#surely motorcycles can’t be that different

[tortoisebore]

HI! I have been thinking about a situation.

REMUS IS A MECHANIC AND SIRIUS MET HIM BECAUSE HIS MOTORCYCLE BROKE AND THEN SIRIUS BEGIN TO ACT LIKE THE MOTORCYCLE BROKE AGAIN BUT ITS AN EXCUSE TO SEE REMUS

I need you to write this ❤️

Anyways, I love your FIC and I’m obsessed

this is so real & true omg omg

*adds to my list of prompts to write when my fic is done hddhdhdhdh*

[coconutdays]

going crazy

s. your boyfriend, handsome and secure suguru geto, doesn't get jealous

w.c. 4.8k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: based on my seat taker biker!geto au! also I feel this does not live up to seat taker! but I tried my best! so I hope you can still enjoy! likes reblogs and comments r always appreciated to know y’all liked it!!!

your boyfriend does not have a single jealous bone in his body. it’s convenient you suppose?

you’ve heard nightmares of insecure men who have to know where there girlfriends are every second of every hour, the direction they’re even going to utter a breath in. the occasional story of a girl who can’t speak to any men whatsoever because her boyfriend will berate her for doing so. 

although you do always keep suguru in the loop about what you’re doing and don’t really talk to guys because at the end of the day, more often than not, they always do not plan on just being your friend, he never expected those things out of you. It was a silent form of showing your respect for him. and he did the same out of instinct too, first too. 

but aside from that, he doesn’t show any jealousy.

there was a time he even tried to set you up with toji zenin when he was still crushing on you. 

your boyfriend is a little peculiar, you’re very well aware of that, but you find his confidence in himself sexy. because you couldn’t look anywhere else if you wanted to. he was handsome, his face chiseled so prettily it was painful. his smooth voice that always had you reeling to get him to talk more. and his spine tattoo that always made you blush at the sight of it befriending your scratch marks after a particularly rough night, 

so you don’t care about the way you dress, because he won’t control what you wear. in fact, it’s one of the things you both love about each other, a recent discovery now that you’ve been dating for a month. suguru is an avid fan of the way you dress, relishing in what new outfit he’ll see you in whenever he sees you that day, and if not possible, asking for a picture. and you love how he loves it. appreciating the fact that he loves when you wear booby shirts to campus or dates with him or particularly tight jeans that attract eyes aside from his, but are worn for the sole purpose of serving cunt–and riling your boyfriend up.

it all comes together to why you wear the dress you do tonight to go clubbing with him and some friends. it’s honestly the hottest thing suguru will have seen you in so far. yes, your previous halloween costumes were something alright, but this…was different. halloween was like a month ago and the outfits for those events were meant to be slutty, purely slutty. this look was meticulously planned by you the moment you ordered the dress online. the sheer dress and its sparkles had been running across your mind that entire week of shipping with the perfect sultry way you planned to do your hair and makeup. 

you 

hey can we carpool later tonight, my dress isnt motorcycle proof :/

suguru

sure princess.  can i get a peek?

you

don’t feel like it hehe wait for it sugu <3

suguru

tease

any other time, he would’ve more than likely have gotten his peek at your outfit, you are weak to his demands naturally, but this was something he genuinely would have to wait for. pictures would not do you justice and you wanted to catch your boyfriends raw reaction when he saw the look for the first time . 

and you were right.

when he went up to your apartment to pick you up and you opened the door, the reaction was worth the wait. the constant warmth your boyfriend’s gaze always held fell the moment his eyes landed on you and took a moment to breathe you in. 

you saw his pupils dart to your cleavage first, staring for a hard second, then to the tightness against your waist and hips bringing attention to your figure. the small quirk of his eyebrow seconds within that let you know he spotted the thong hugging your body under the sheer dress. he did a once over of your legs, looking at what shoes you were wearing, before he brought his eyes up to look at your face again.

he doesn’t say anything, instantly moving forward and getting rid of the space between the both of you to take your head in his hands and plant his lips on yours. you press a hand against his chest when you feel him swipe his tongue across the top of your mouth so hungrily. 

“you’re going to kiss off my lipgloss sugu.” you giggle, heaving a little as you press your forehead against his, blinking up happily at him. 

his stare is firm as his blown up pupils stare back into you, “sorry pretty girl, couldn’t help myself.”

“and why’s that hm?” you bite your lip through your smile, eagerly waiting for his answer, still forehead to forehead with him, his hands still holding you in place.

his hair is in that half up half down duo you go so feral for, you realize this detail when he says, “you know why.”

“no I don’t,” you drag on, a teasing lilt in your voice

“because,” he drags one of his hands down to caress your neck softly with his thumb, you can see a slight crease in his eyelids at your playfulness, “my girlfriend is trying to get away with first degree murder right now.”

“you like the dress?” you give him a toothy smile and you can slightly catch his gaze turn hungry at the sight of it

suguru suddenly raises you up by clasping his arms behind you, below your butt and on your thigh, so you’re above him when he looks at you lovingly, “like is an understatement.”

“well i like your hair today,” you compliment him, still giggly

“yeah?” he smiles, “i’m glad.”

it’s your first time ever going to the club with suguru, so there’s some sort of powerful feeling lingering when you enter the loud building holding hands with him. you’re going in belonging to someone and so is he, as opposed to other people going in and hoping to catch a body tonight or at least a good grind on the dancefloor–satoru cough cough.

the white haired maniac’s influence gets all of you a vip table with liquor already waiting for you and when you get there, suguru sits and plants you on his lap, arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

It’s when you look forward, you see toji zenin give you a quick once over from where he’s seated near satoru. and you ignore it, you always do. he’s never made an advance on you ever since you and suguru became a thing, he’s respectful of the relationship, but his eyes can never lie, he’s into you. it’s why you’ve never uttered a word to him and why he doesn’t either. and you can’t really blame him if the purpose of tonight's look was to turn all heads, not just your boyfriend’s.

“you smell good baby,” suguru mutters into your ear as he brushes a hair away from your face, “are you using the perfume i got you?”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders when you respond with a nod of your head and, “yeah. I finally ran out of my old one.”

“good girl.” he smiles appreciatively before placing a tender kiss on your neck

the softness of it makes you giggle a little and crane your neck a little, suguru pinches your side to tease you for it. 

it’s when a certain lullaby of a song comes on that your ears perk up and your boyfriend observes the reaction, looking up at you and rubbing circles into your waist, “what’s up baby?”

within an instant all the girls at your table begin to get up and rush to the dance floor and you turn to suguru, already starting to unwrap his arms from your waist.

“i have to go dance this babe,” you say hurriedly, like a little kid leaving their mom the moment they see the bouncy castle go up.

suguru can say nothing before he watches you run off to join the other girls on the dance floor, eyebrows raised in amusement at your antics then in reaction to your immediate inclination to start dancing. 

you look pretty, he thinks as he reaches over to serve himself a glass of whiskey. 

and he continues to think it as he ‘talks’ to his friends, nodding and giving small mhms when all he’s really doing is watching you live it up at the center of the club. 

you’re ethereal, the only star in that murky puddle of bodies. maybe your dress is part of the reason for all that shine and glow you’re giving off, but nothing beats the pretty little smile on your face that says you’re having a good time. it’s turning him on to be honest. he always wants to shove himself inside of you when you bear that toothy smile at him. 

and other people think the same, he notes. 

he’s always seen the stares, he knows you’re a sight to behold. there hasn’t been a day where he isn’t aware that so many other people want you. he knew it when you were merely the smart, hot girl he had a crush on his lit class, with so many other guys obviously paying a little more attention when it was your turn to speak, and he knows it even more now with your male following on social media and the way he constantly gets sized up just for being next to you. for fuck's sake he's heard toji zenin talk about how bad you are before he knew about your thing with suguru at the halloween party, hell, he still catches the frat president unable to control the way his eyes eat you up when you're near.

“done already?” satoru asks haughtily when he sees all of the girls that went to dance come back heaving a little

it’s been an hour since they all left at the start of that first song.

“y/n’s still there though,” one of them breathes, taking satoru’s drink from him, “she does not stop.”

“yeah, she doesn’t,” suguru laughs a little, looking back at you, still as energetic as when you first got there.

fuck, you're beautiful.

speaking of before,

he’s painfully more aware of it when he notices the number of eyes gravitating towards you from the dancefloor, tables, and the bar.

it’s like a bunny in a room full of wolves. or those scenes where scooby and shaggy are in a dark room and a thousand red eyes pop up to blink at them. the eyes to you ratio is beginning to get a little mind boggling now that he sees it in a real life setting. this is not the handful of guys checking you out when you go to the library with him or the nth guy staring at you when you walk past with your boyfriend next to you. this is a huge club with you in the middle and catching the eye of almost every guy in here, most of whom come to this place with plans of taking a girl home or putting moves on her. 

the thought manifests itself when a blonde frat bro walks up to you and tries to dance with you. suguru’s heart stops a little for some reason. he’s seen guys come up to you before, actually talking to you and trying to get your number, so he shouldn’t feel this irked when he knows the guy is going to be disappointed by your answer. he actually wants to go up to the guy and beat his face in.

the surge of pride that courses through his body is immense when he sees you put a hand between you and the guy and you make an annoyed face, all before strutting off and making your way back to the table. 

he manspreads a little more for you to sit between his legs, draping one arm on your thigh, the other holding onto his whiskey.

“a guy tried to dance with me,” you huff when you sit down, reaching for suguru’s drink, which he hands over without a second thought, now using the other free hand to fully hug you.

“I saw,” he says, perching his chin your shoulder, watching as you take a sip of the whiskey and cradle the cup in your hands.

“dance with me,” you turn to look at him and pout, “i don’t want guys coming up to me.”

“but you look so good rejecting them.” suguru teases, smirking a little at you

when your face deapans, he laughs and hugs you tighter, “we’ll go in a bit. rest your pretty feet for a second, don’t want them to tire out.”

“okay,” you slump into his hold, pouting

and suguru did keep his promise, like always. he took you dancing after a few minutes of rest and letting you drink the rest of his whiskey.

he protected you from any other guys trying to come up to you, evident in the way no guys even dared get close from a ten feet radius.

he kept you close and let you dance with him, hands appreciatively holding onto you when you pressed your body against his. it was much different to the dancing from that first time at satoru’s party, he was really holding onto you this time. his hands always found your ass, your hips, even the underside of your boobs during every second of every song.

and suguru isn’t a jealous guy, so it was a little weird to you when you saw him notice a guy oogling you and he immediately pulled you in to makeout with him on the dancefloor. it was unlike any other makeout session you had ever had with him before. he was gripping your ass while his other hand held your neck, that wasn’t new, he always did that, but his energy about it was so…all consuming. 

all you know, is that instantly had you horny and you couldn’t help the mewl you let out after he squeezed you in his hold.

“let’s go,” he spoke a bit tensely into your ear so you could hear him past the music.

and you were never one to go against him because everything suguru did always made sense and worked for you, so you nodded mindlessly and said, “okay.”

when you got to suguru’s apartment, he immediately pushed you against the door and resumed the makeout session he had started at the club. one of his hands was planted against the door while the other roughly gripped your waist to keep you close to him. 

“If you ever see toji, i want you to run the other direction,” he spoke ominously against your lips

the command had you furrowing your eyebrows, you mean of course yes you'd do that, but you never would’ve thought he’d ask it from you. he never really cared to address your actions when it came towards other guys. suguru wasn’t ever jealous…nonetheless, you agree meekly, taken aback by his roughness, “okay.”

all your boyfriend did in response was let out a gruff sound of acknowledgement before pressing his body further against yours and beginning to tug your dress off. he started by pushing down the straps, then pushing the upper half down, including your strapless bra until your tits popped out. 

he pushed both of them together the moment they peeked out and then let a glob of spit drop down onto one of your nipples rather obscenely before he went down to mouth at that same breast. it had you keening, you could feel your thong becoming nonexistent with the way you were starting to drench through it.

a bite from suguru had you squeaking before he continued his ministrations on your other breast while his hands worked on pushing the rest of your dress all the way down, even your thong since it caught onto the tight material of the dress.

you were left completely naked in front of him now and he manhandled you by suddenly picking you up and pinning you against the wall next to the door. he let one hand hold one of your legs to his waist, while the other went under and quickly swiped a finger across your folds with ease due to the wetness

“so easy baby,” he muttered against your lips before plunging a finger all the way in and curving it upwards

“you’re being mean,” you complain, feeling completely flustered at his brash actions

“what’s so mean about making you feel good hm?” he leans back to get a good look at you when he plunges another finger in and starts to push them in and out quickly, watching as your eyebrows knit and you start to mewl, “atta girl.”

“nothing,” you mumble, brainless as you wrap your arms around his neck and hook him in closer with your legs, “ow!”

he started adding a third finger when he felt like you were starting to open up more, however your small complaint started dying into a moan when he increased his pace with the third finger. 

“that’s a lot sugu,” you heave through delirious breaths, flustered at the fact that he was staring so intensely at how you were sucking him in

your comment had him finally looking up at you and you dont know if you’d rather he go back to staring at your pussy, because he was giving that same intense stare to you now. the all heavy pressure of his gaze was entirely being directed at your own eyes now, and how could you meet that same gaze equally when he was three fingers into you and making you moan like a slut.

suguru might have granted you a quick mercy when he leaned against you, quickening the pace of his fingers so you could get louder, and breathed into your ear, muttering lowly, “my cock’s a lot more than three fingers but you always cream all over it.”

the dirty sentence has you pulling suguru closer to you, and trying to trap him where he was so you wouldn’t have to look at him in the flustered state he put you in. but your boyfriend didn’t have it, forcing himself out of your grip, and craning his neck back to go back to looking at you.

he pulled out all three of fingers just to land a sharp slap across your pussy before plunging all of them into you again, “let me watch you baby. be good for me, okay?”

he honestly expects you to be able to answer him when three of his very large fingers are stretching you wide open and curling on that one spot that always has you crumbling, you know he expects you to because he turns his head a little when you don’t answer and lands another slap before going back to fingering you.

“speak up princess,” he orders so easily and so sweetly, like he’s not torturing your body right now

and you do your best to force the words out of you, legs quivering and resisting the urge to writhe in his grasp when you gasp, “ok–okay.”

“good girl,” he almost groans with a snarl as he suddenly stops fingering you open and hoists you over his shoulder, a squeal leaves your mouth at the action.

he’s walking you both to his bedroom, you notice from the path of his hallway made out from your view, and the realization doesn’t last long before suguru brings you down again, then pushes you down and bends you over his bed. he lands a slap to your ass and you can makeout the rustle of him getting naked when he says softly, “grab the pillows and put them under your stomach angel.”

and you listen, reaching easily for both of his large and fluffy pillows, and putting them under your abdomen.

you feel suguru’s heavy length press against your ass and bare pussy when he presses up against you, gripping onto the crease between your thighs and ass, and starts mouthing hot and heavy kisses across your spine. you whine a complaint at the fact that you feel so good, but you know you could feel so much better if he just put it in already.

“what?” suguru notices the pitch that you always make when you’re complaining, continuing his line of affection down your spine

“put it in,” you pout, wiggling your ass for emphasis and hissing a little when you feel his cock graze your lips at the action

suguru gives a last kiss to the bottom of your spine before coming back up and grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your head up so he could look at you, “how bad do you want it?”

“really bad sugu.” you mewl, feeling gratification from the sting of his hold on you

“you want me to fill up your little hole? even when we both know you’re gonna start crying that it’s beating your pussy up, yeah?” he questions cruelly 

“mhm,” you nod pathetically, “even if i do.”

his lips twitch a little at your admission and he yanks on your hair a little harder when he lands a sloppy kiss on your lips that has a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths when he pulls away.

he stands back up and lands another stinging slap across your ass, groaning, “my pretty fuckin ass.”

as if he couldn’t get any dirtier, suguru then grabs either of your cheeks and spreads them apart to get a good view of your sex, the sudden exposure of which makes you feel even wetter. that last fact seems of no use to suguru when you feel a large glob of spit land and run down your hole.

you suck in breath when you feel suguru start to rub his tip across your folds.

“sloppy little pussy,” he mutters before pressing into you. and you both groan when he starts to inch himself in even further.

the moan you let out when he completely pulled out and slammed back in was sinful and the noises that followed when he started doing that again and again at a faster pace without mercy had you outright screaming. 

you felt like you were constantly breathless, constantly trying to breathe. he hadn’t ever been this hard on you before.

and you thought you knew what hard was from him before.

“i know, i know,” he whispered against your neck when he pressed himself down against you and started jackhammering even closer to your cervix, so on point with your gspot too that you felt your orgasm starting to build up

a particular gutteral squeal from you had him breathing a “so cute” while he never relented his brutish force against you

“sugu–sugu,” you reached around for one of his arms, heaving, grabbing onto it while he violently moved the both of you, “i’m gonna–mmm–i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum!”

the confession had suguru suddenly changing positions, hooking his arms up and under your armpits to pull you up to stand flush against his body while he slammed up against you ferociously. it unexpectedly had your high crashing against you after a graze of your gspot.

“that’s it baby, that’s it.” suguru consoled when he felt you twitch in his hold and your juices dripping all over his abdomen and cock, “such a good fucking girl.”

all you wanted to do was fall down and rest, but the most you could muster was letting your body go limp in your boyfriend’s unrelenting hold, letting him use you as he pleased.

“ ‘s too much sugu,” you whined as the overstimulation started kicking in

It didn’t get him to stop at all.

“remember what you said earlier hm?” he brought up, breathing heavy as he lifted a foot up to plant it against the edge of the bed. it was leverage for the scream worthy pace he started forcing on you now.

tears started to fall down your cheeks at the overstimulation. it was so good, too good. It was all so sinfully good. 

you felt your walls start to flutter again at your second nearing orgasm when you sniffled from the tears. and although your boyfriend still evilly abused your pussy, he leaned down and moved your face to the side with one hand so he could be face to face with you. 

you thought he was going to kiss you, but instead he started licking your tears off.

it was the catalyst for your orgasm and you thrashed rather hard against suguru, who you could feel suck in a breath at the sporadic clenches of your pussy.

“fuck,” he breathed harshly, pulling you even tighter against him to more easily meet his thrusts and you could feel his cock twitch as a symptom of his incoming orgasm.

that, and he started to speak up filthily.

“Mine–mine–mine–mine.” he reiterated quickly, punctuating each time with a thrust, “fuck ‘s all mine. god can’t get enough of you pretty baby. so fucking slutty and pretty. fuck–fuck–next time i see toji giving you heart eyes im gonna pump my cum inside you so he can see it running down your fucking legs. fuck–you like that baby? what–a–good–good–fucking–girl. tell me you want that baby.”

scrambling for any piece of sanity just to tell your boyfriend what he wants to hear, in hopes of spurring his lust, you moan out weakly, “i want it sugu i want it.”

“yeah? you want him to see me dripping out of your pretty fuckin pussy? god–i fucking–want–it. he’ll never get to fucking know what it’s like to cream this little hole.”

“so–so dirty sugu,” you moan sheepishly at the embarrassing realization that he might just make you cum a third time because of the added spur of his pussy drunk words. 

“pussy’s fucking dirty,” snarls back at you, pulling you closer to him, “can feel you clenching around me. know you fucking like it.”

the shut down of his words had you shaking in attraction to his ability to shut you up like no other.

“never–forget–you’re–mine,” he thrusts through, “ ‘s fucking pussy, your ass, your tits, your body, your pretty fucking face, ‘s all mine. you don’t need anybody but me. i’m yours i’m yours i’m yours. ‘s dick ‘s all yours, everything, baby. take it–take it–take it.” 

his breathing was starting to get heavier and you could feel his abs start twitching against you, a sign of his orgasm building up just as yours was all over again.

so it surprised you when suguru pulled out and threw you onto the bed, your legs hanging off the edge before he picked them up and slanted them up against his body by hugging them close. “come here, come here,” he quickly let one arm go for a second to guide himself into you again before wrapping it around your legs again. he repositioned the one leg of his back on top of the bed for his leverage and leaned forward a bit to go back to his brutal thrusts. 

“wanna see your face when you cum again.” he muttered as he stared at you squealing and moaning lewdly at his ministrations

suguru started kissing and mouthing at your calves while keeping you in a deadlock of eye contact. his cheeks and ears were tinged pink and his hair had fallen out of the half up half down do he had it in earlier. 

the worshipping of your legs and eye contact had to have been the last straw for you, because after a certain lick of your skin, you started crashing, feeling yourself let go across the entire lower half of your boyfriend, resisting the urge to cover your face in embarrassment because he recently made it a point that he really really liked seeing your face when you came.

the point was proven when he followed soon after you, thrusting half haphazardly into you as he blew his load inside of you in time with every squeeze of your cunt. it was accompanied by a litter of painful bites across your calves and heavy breathing from your boyfriend. he looked like he came hard, it felt like he did, considering how every spurt of his cum was sharply thrusted into you, making you wince in pain every time his tip kissed your cervix.

both of you were breathing heavily after, especially suguru, his skin covered in a thicker veil of sweat than you, who was simply taking all of that force he was exerting. he was still holding onto your legs, resting his forehead on the bare skin of your foot that wasn’t covered by your heel. 

his eyes were closed and he licked his lips, a bit tired, as he spoke, “i think i do get jealous after all, i’m sorry.”

his confession made you slightly clench around him, making him suck a breath in at the sensitivity while you breathlessly giggled, “that’s okay, i never said you couldn’t.”

suguru lazily bit your calf again as a sign of retaliation, "you could sound less excited."

[venusstorm]

𝘽𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨

The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle.

ෆ Warnings: 18+ – MINORS DNI, fluff, insecurity, Bucky can’t stop lifting you up

ෆ Bucky Barnes x Reader

ෆ w/c: 1.2k

̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟

"Isn't this yours, honeybee?" Bucky questions, dangling the bright yellow bumblebee with a pastel pink heart in his hand. He inspects it carefully, turning it around before offering it back to you.

You shake your head, "It was, yea...but..."

Bucky stares at you expectantly and suddenly the entire idea sounded foolish. You couldn't help but envision him laughing at you, snorting at how ridiculous he'd look flying down the highway with your dumb keychain flapping in the wind. It'd stick out like a sore thumb against his jet-black bike, the rev of his engine alone probably sending the poor bee soaring into the clouds.

"I put it in there by accident," you laugh nervously, reaching out for the tiny bee. But his hands clenched tightly around the keychain before you could grab it.

Almost tauntingly he lets it hang in front of your face, staring at you with a half smile.

"On accident?" He hums. "So the keychain that's been on your backpack since the day I met you just somehow found its way into my birthday present?"

You shrug. "I took it off and must've misplaced it."

His eyes glimmer with question but instead of pushing further, he lets it go. He shrugs, "Okay."

Your face falls as he hands the keychain back to you. You squeeze the poor ball of fluff, trying your best not to belittle yourself for being so nervous.

It's for the best, you told yourself. I'm sure he doesn't want some weird form of "staking claim" on his bike. His buddies would make fun of him for it anyway. It's better if it stays with me. Yea. Better.

Hurriedly you try to direct your attention away from your thoughts, shoving the keychain into your pocket.

Your solemn expression brightens into excitement. "I have another surprise!"

You take Bucky's hand, leading him towards your living room which noticeably had a different ambiance than usual. He happily trails behind you, watching your joyous face with adoration.

Every time he's with you his brain goes fuzzy. You allow him to decompress, relax, and think about nothing besides the moment he's in. He craves getting off of work and coming straight to your apartment, still sweaty and dirty from working at the bar, and yet you run up and give him the biggest hug. "Hang on, let me take a shower, honeybee." But you'd ignore him, smashing your lips against his until he gives up rationalizing and allows you to strip him bare.

"I know it's kind of corny and if you'd rather go out and celebrate I completely understand. I just thought this would..."

He can't focus on your words. Not as he's looking at what you had done. Candles lit around the room, the whole place smelling of warm vanilla and cinnamon. Fairy lights twinkled around the ceiling, draping over the windows. The coffee table has been shoved to the side and in its place is a bundle of blankets and floor pillows. Balloons and streamers are scattered across the room, and finally, he zones in on the blue and white cake.

"Happy Birthday James!" it reads. He could tell that you made it because of the bright red heart dotting the i.

He whispers your name in pure disbelief.

"Yes?" You stare up at him with admiration. You truly love this man and want to do everything in your power to show it.

"C'mere, baby." Bucky scoops you up into a hug, hiking you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds you close against his chest, kissing you sweetly. "You did all this for me?"

You nod, eyes wide as he stares at your lips. A look of pure hunger ravishes you. Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He couldn't recall a time before you when his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest. Nor a time when his eyes became so glazed over with pure adoration that he swore he'd cry right then and there. He was hesitant about this future, the new world that he found himself forced to live in. But the moment he saw your sweet smile for the first time, all that faded away.

"Thank you, Princess." You whimper as he whispers into your ear, his hands traveling up the Henley that you stole from his drawer. He didn't mind you stealing his clothes. The first time he caught you he handed you a pile of his shirts, begging you to take them and wear them as your own.

He kisses your shoulder softly. "Thank you for being here for me."

"For taking the time to know me and care for me."

His lips press against your neck, a soft groan rumbling within his throat. "I still remember the day we met...felt like the universe was finally giving me my happy ending."

You state his name breathlessly. "I'm supposed to be celebrating you, not the other way around."

He ignores your remark, his eyes narrowing as his brain begins to churn. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"

You respond without hesitation. "With everything."

"And you'll always tell me the truth, right?"

You nod reassuringly.

He releases his grip on your legs, setting you back onto the ground. "So tell me what this is about." His hand shoots into your pocket, pulling out the black and yellow bee. He squeezes it in his hand before laying it out in his palm.

"I told you–"

He raises an eyebrow, "The truth."

You didn't want to come off as too clingy and you didn't want to hear Bucky reject your gift. Thank you baby but...it's a little childish. You could hear the words flowing from his lips perfectly. He'd hate it.

"I–"

Bucky pulls you closer. His eyes flooded with warmth. "Please."

"It was for your bike," you whisper. "And before you say anything. I know it's dumb...that's why I took it back."

"My bike?"

You nod wordlessly. "I thought it'd be cute if you had a little piece of me wherever you go. But the more I thought about it the more I realized how stupid it'd probably look. I mean...none of the other guys have–"

Bucky cuts you off, lifting you off the ground and back into his arms. "Oh, baby...is this what you were hiding?"

You nod sheepishly. "It's stupid."

He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You're perfect. M'gonna tie this onto it right now, honeybee. The guys are going to be so fucking jealous when they see what you got me."

Your lips broaden into a smile. "Really?"

Bucky hugs you tightly, his hand caressing your head against his shoulder. "Gotta let the whole world know I've got the most thoughtful, gorgeous person by my side. M'never taking it off, baby. It goes where I go now."

You squeal as he races into the garage with you in his arms, flicking the lights on and heading towards his bike. He sets you down gently, making a show of the keychain in his hand before attaching it to his key ring. Happily, he throws his leg over the bike, twisting the ignition. The bike roars to life and the sight of your bright yellow bee against the black exterior makes you burst out into laughter.

Bucky grins. "See? It's perfect, baby. Told you."

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Irresistible || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: A one night stand comes back to haunt you when your father plans to marry his mother. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, time skipping, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 6.1k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

December 2019

Two years ago you had spent an amazing week in Monaco during a European getaway. It was meant to be a once in a lifetime trip but now you sat opposite your father at the kitchen table in your family home trying to understand what he was saying.

“…the kindest woman. You’ll love her, just like I do.”

He fell in love so now you were expected to leave behind everyone you knew and just start a new life with his new family. You knew he had been happier since the trip but you never would have thought it was because of some long distance relationship. He had kept that to himself for a long time.

“Can’t you just have a midlife crisis like everyone else?” you asked. “Why are you moving us across the world for a stranger?”

“Did you not hear me? Pascale is not a stranger. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I love her.”

Resentment built and you pushed your chair back as you stood up. “You loved mum too, and look how that ended.”

Your father sighed and you immediately felt guilty for the heaviness in that one breath. It wasn’t his fault your mother decided domestic life wasn’t for her and left when you were just a baby. It wasn’t his fault that she met a man who had a motorcycle and flirted with the wrong side of the law. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that they crashed in a high speed police chase when you were 15.

You sank back into your seat and picked at the chipped Formica table top. “I’m sorry, dad.”

A calloused hand from a life of hard work gently patted yours. “It’s a big adjustment, pumpkin, but you said Monaco was a beautiful place. I thought you would be happy.”

“It was, but I’ll never see my friends.”

“I’m not saying you can replace them, but you’ll make new ones. And even with the different timezones I’m sure you can make arrangements to video call each other.”

He was making an effort, you could recognise that at least. “Fine. I suppose it won’t be that bad.”

August 2017

All of the streets seemed to look the same, the stonework buildings towering over you as the afternoon sun dipped even further below the mountains that bordered the place. You had no idea which way it was to get back to the hotel and you weren’t going to risk the international roaming charges to use the internet on your phone, you already spent most of your savings on the clothes in the bags that hung from your wrists.

You were too busy looking up and trying to get a sense of direction that you didn’t see the man getting out of his car. Pain flared in your knee as a door slammed into it and you dropped the bags to clutch your leg that throbbed and drew a groan from your lips. It was worse than hitting your funny bone and you grabbed the hood of the car to balance when you nearly teetered over.

“Mon Dieu, est-ce que tu vas bien?” 

You couldn’t understand a word he said but the accent was almost enough to make you feel better, until you looked up. The setting sun cast a golden glow around the man and you swore he was more beautiful than the godlike statues you had seen in Rome the week before. 

“I, I,” you stammered stupidly as he knelt down beside you and repacked the bags that had fallen to the street. His bright green eyes lingered on the red lace bra and panty set you had spent a small fortune on before he cleared his throat and shoved them in the bag. “I don’t speak French.”

“You should really be watching where you are walking,” he said as he stood up, his accent saturating his words and making the scolding sound sexy. And it was most definitely a scolding. “You could have been hit by a car.”

“I was,” you pointed out as you tested your leg and winced when you put your weight on it.

“I meant one that was driving past. It was a good thing I was parked.” He looked down his nose and shook his head. Somehow this stranger had managed to make you feel guilty for disappointing him, and it started to infuriate you.

“I really don’t think this is all my fault,” you snapped as you swiped your bags back. “This is a footpath, and that is a no parking zone. Maybe you should concentrate more on where you should be driving than how I should be walking.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he did the same until his lip twitched and a smirk broke out. “You think I am a bad driver?”

You looked at the double yellow lined he was parked over and squared your shoulders. “Does a duck quack?”

He mouthed the question back before he understood what you were implying and laughed as he took a step closer. “I like you, you are funny, and delusional. What is your name, and what are you doing tonight?”

You were still trying to figure out if he had complimented or insulted you when someone called out and stole his attention before you could answer.

“Charles, dépêche-toi!”

You both turned to the group that had arrived, all of the young men looking almost as handsome as he did. They had to be from the same modelling agency, or there was something seriously strong in the water here.

“Well?”

You looked at Charles and found he was still waiting for an answer. “Probably still trying to find my hotel.”

“Funny,” he chuckled before waving his friends off. “Je te rattraperai plus tard.” He took your bags and stuffed them in the backseat of his car before offering his hand. “I can’t have you walking these streets all night, god knows what trouble you could cause.”

“I was doing fine, until you hit me with your car, and now you want to drive me in it? Nuh-uh, I would rather take my chances on foot.”

You stepped around him to get your bags back, or at least you tried to but your aching knee gave out. You would have fallen to the pavement but a strong arm curled around your waist and pulled you against him. 

“You could have just asked if you wanted to hold me, biche.”

“Excuse me?” You pushed away from him and gritted your teeth through the pain. “I’m not sure in what world you think that is flirting, asshole.”

Charles threw his head back with a laugh and easily caught up to you, his palm heating the small of your back as he guided you around to face his car again “Biche, not bitch, it’s a cute little deer. I can call you Bambi instead, I quite like that. Unless you want to tell me your name?”

You rolled your eyes, unsure whether the endearment was an improvement at all, but stepped into the car when he opened the door for you. “No thanks, I don’t know if you are some sort of stalker.”

He laughed again before walking around to the driver's seat. “What hotel are you staying in?”

“The Fairmont.”

The flashy car roared to life and you turned to face Charles when his laughter grew. “So you would tell a stalker where you are staying but not your name?”

“That sounds to me like you are admitting you are a stalker,” you shot back with a daring arch of your brow. “Besides, I’m staying with a man that would snap you like a twig if you tried to turn me into a skin suit. I don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Your boyfriend?”

You snorted at the question and shook your head. “My father.”

He smiled at the news as he pulled out into the traffic and drove the short distance to the hotel. Your meandering had only left you two streets away from it so it was probably more of a nuisance to drive you there but Charles didn’t seem to mind. 

“Are you enjoying the city?”

“It’s beautiful,” you said with a nod. “It’s almost a shame to leave tomorrow.”

“Have you been to Jimmyz?”

“Not yet.” You had heard of the club but most nights had consisted of a late dinner with your father and then bed. It was actually the first day you hadn’t spent hanging out with him, he had gone to get a haircut that was long overdue after all the travelling and you had used the alone time for a little girl shopping.  

“You should come tonight, my friends and I are going and I owe you for hitting you with my car.”

January 2020

Your father thought it would be a good idea for Pascale to come and stay for a week before the big move. She owned a hair studio so it was easy to take some time off and she was due to arrive any moment. He had all but begged you to make an effort with Pascale before leaving for the airport. He had never brought a woman home, or at least while you were there, so it was strange to see how he fussed over the crumbs in the kitchen sink. 

You did a quick final inspection through the house but with most of the belongings already sold or shipped off to Monaco there was next to nothing that could make a mess. You only hoped all your things arrived in time at the other end. It was bad enough you were going to be staying with one of your step brothers to begin with but it was only for a few weeks while the renovations on the new house dad and Pascale had bought were finished. He promised that your room would have a view of the ocean and your own bathroom - it was absolutely a bribe but you were fine with that.

The car pulled into the driveway, past the large real estate sign with an unmissable SOLD sticker across it. You had seen a handful of pictures of Pascale on your dad’s phone but when she stepped out of the car you realised they didn’t do her justice. Despite being on multiple planes that never made for a decent sleep, she looked refreshed and even her hair was still in a perfect blowout. She was really pretty, or maybe it was the bright smile she gave your dad when he parked the car.

“Do I look alright, Peter?” she asked as she touched her hair nervously and straightened her blouse.

“It’s not an interview, sweetheart,” he chuckled as he grabbed her suitcase. “You look beautiful.”

August 2017

The club was unlike anything back home. The music seemed to seep into your skin, the bass vibrating in your bones. Even the air was intoxicating with the promise of a night of bad decisions.

“Bambi, I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You turned away from the bar and found Charles drinking in the sight of your short, tight dress. His eyes followed every line, dip and curve of your body and he bit his lip as he dragged them back up to your face. For the price you had paid you were happy it had the desired effect.

With your confidence bolstered you sent him a smirk and grabbed your drink that had been placed down. “Well you did say you owe me, you can start with my drink.”

Charles didn’t look away as he reached into his pocket and stepped closer, his hand reaching past to slap a bill on the bar top. His scent reached you, the cologne inviting you to lean closer and inhale the decadence of vanilla and bergamot. “The usual, please.”

He could have stepped back while his drink was made but he chose to stay close, his eyes flicking down your cleavage to see the red lace set he had been daydreaming about all evening. “How about we get out of here?”

You had fantasised about a summer romance since the trip began, what young woman wouldn’t when they were going to Europe? But you hadn’t been able to conjure a face as handsome as his when you closed your eyes late at night and your hand drifted beneath the blankets. Now you had the opportunity in the palm of your hands and you weren’t going to let it slip from your fingers.

Tipping your head back, you met his green eyes that dared you rise to the challenge. “Lead the way.”

February 2020

You were jet lagged and exhausted when you finally reached your temporary accommodation.

“Charles is just on his way back from work but he shouldn’t be too far away. Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” Pascale said as she helped you with your bags.

The apartment was bare with mostly blank white walls and a few framed pictures of Ferrari cars. It was a typical boy space that was in desperate need of soft furnishings to liven it up, but that wasn’t your problem to deal with.

“He just bought the place so he’s still finding his ‘vibe’,” Pascale noted when she saw you eying up the empty space, the words sounding like they were verbatim and not her own. “But there’s two bedrooms and two bathrooms so you’ll have your own space. The builder said our house will be finished in a few weeks.”

“It’s great, Pascale,” you assured her as you set your bag down on the bed with a long yawn. You were surprised to find it had a floral duvet and a sheet set already made up - something you were sure she had done for you.

She nodded and placed your other suitcase down before leaving, closing the door most of the way. “I’ll let you rest for a bit.”

You woke to voices down the hall and found a blanket had been draped over you at some point.

“Can’t she sleep on Enzo’s couch? I don’t even know her, she could try to sell my things. There have been stranger things done before.”

“Ah-ah, no, and she doesn't even watch racing. Peter said she had no interest in the sport.” Pascale sighed heavily, the same way your father did when he was having to repeat himself. “She’s a lovely young lady, and she’s going to be family so please treat her as such.”

August 2017

“Where are we going?”

Charles just smiled and kept driving through the quiet streets before pulling into a hotel far nicer than the one you were staying in.

“You live in a hotel?”

He laughed and tossed his car key to the valet driver. “No, but I have a roommate who would probably not be very happy with me if we woke him.”

He already had a room and led the way to the elevators with the confidence of a man who had certainly been here before. You didn’t mind, you were hardly a saint, and you knew exactly what you were doing when you dressed for the night out. You knew how you wanted the night to end.

For a man who looked eager to undress you, like he had done with his eyes, he didn’t touch you until the door was firmly closed behind him. But once that door locked shut it was as if the leash he had kept a hold of himself with was dropped and he pinned you against the wall, his lips finding the hollow of your neck.

The temperature in the room seemed to swell as his kiss climbed higher and he finally reached your lips. You moaned at the feel of his hands roaming your body and his tongue slipped past your parted lips when he dragged the zip down your spine.

“J'ai envie de le faire depuis que je t'ai vu pour la première fois. You are so fucking sexy.” [I have been wanting to do this since I first saw you.] He stepped back and watched the material fall away to reveal the tempting red lace he had been dying to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the hunger in his eyes and you reached behind your back to unclip the bra. It was thrilling to watch the colour of his eyes fade to black as you revealed more skin to him but when you reached for your panties he spurred forward to stop you.

“Mine,” he stated as he brushed your hands aside and hooked his fingers into the waistband instead. Falling to one knee, he dragged the lace down your thighs and let them tangle around your ankles before kissing your hip. Your head fell back against the wall with a thud as he nudged your legs apart and pulled one leg over his shoulder. “What’s my name?”

Your forehead crumpled as his breath warmed your cunt and you buried your hands in his hair to hurry him up, but he was too strong.

“What’s my name?” he repeated.

“Ch-Charles,” you stammered as his fingers teased your entrance without delving further, driving you wild with need.

“Good girl, remember that when I make you scream.”

The words left you drunk and you would have dared him to make good on them but his tongue found your clit and two fingers curled into your cunt. All thoughts left your head while he was knelt fully dressed before you and all too soon his name echoed across the room as he brought you to your first of many highs.

You could barely walk by the time you collapsed on the king bed and your head was spinning from the various positions you had found yourself in. You only bothered to move when a phone vibrated on the bedside table and you reached over to see if it was yours.

Giada: When are you coming home?

“Need a break, Bambi?” Charles teased as he returned from the minibar with a bottle of water, cracking the top off and offering it to you first.

You took the bottle with a grateful smile and swallowed a few mouthfuls to ease your dry throat. “Who’s Giada?”

His eyes flicked to his phone and he grabbed it, quickly replying to the message before tossing it aside and caging you beneath his body. “My roommate. Now, where were we?”

You should have been in a dead sleep but something had woken you. It was an ungodly hour given the darkness that was still outside but it did mean you saw the light of Charles' phone. His soft snores were silenced by the pillow he buried his face in and you took a second to admire the sight of his toned body in the moonlight.

Giada: It’s so hard to sleep without you here. I love you xxx

You slipped out of the bed without waking him and hated how good the ache between your legs felt because of him. You should have known a man like him was bound to have a girlfriend. She was probably a model.

You quickly gathered your clothes and dressed on the way to the door, closing it silently behind you. No one had to know you were even there and in a few hours you would be heading to the airport, never to see Charles again.

It took far longer than you expected to find your way back to the hotel and your father was already awake when you entered the room.

“You look like you had a rough night.”

You continued on your way to your bedroom in desperate need of a shower before packing. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fair enough.”

You reemerged looking refreshed but you still felt contradictory inside. You told yourself that you did nothing wrong but it didn’t help when you knew there was a woman waiting at home for the man you had fucked. Fucked didn’t begin to cover what you had done - he had hung the stars and the moon, he had expanded your mind to the pleasures that could be sought with the right experience and partner. He had ruined you for all the men back home.

You fought to tug the zip of your suitcase closed, more than ready to leave the place behind, and growled in frustration. Your dad knew better than to bring attention to your mood but he gently moved you aside and closed the stubborn zip himself.

“How was your night?” you asked as you went to the kitchenette and made a strong brew of coffee.

He smiled to himself and picked up the suitcase to add it to the pile by the door but his smile dimmed when he saw how miserable you looked. “Nothing special, I just had dinner and a walk by the water.”

Normally you would have picked up on the lie, but you were too self centred to notice how happy he looked. He was glowing.

February 2020

You followed the voices to the living room and found Pascale in the doorway saying her goodbyes. You couldn’t see the face of the man she was talking to, only a head of dark hair, but he turned when his mothers attention was drawn away. 

“You…” you breathed as you recognised the green eyes that had haunted your dreams for two years. Pascale frowned and you plastered a fake smile as you held your hand out. “You must be Charles.”

“I am,” he hummed as he looked at your hand before enveloping it in his much larger one. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’ll see you both for dinner tonight, Charles can drive you until we get you a car.”

Charles seemed to be hearing the news for the first time. “I can?” 

“Yes, you can. Now make sure she feels at home alright, maybe introduce her to some of your friends.” Pascale blew a kiss and left Charles to close the door.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he locked it and you realised at that moment just how fucked you were because, despite the quick prayer you had sent, Charles had recognised you too. “Hello again, Bambi.”

“Fuck me,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Charles smirked and booped you on the nose as he walked past you and towards his kitchen. “No thanks, you’re going to be my sister soon.”

You hated that for a second you were disappointed before common sense returned and you went to your room to find your phone. “Dad, I can’t stay here.”

“Why not?”

“Charles is an asshole, that’s why,” you whispered angrily, your eyes scanning the bottom of your door to see if he was eavesdropping. 

“It’s only for two weeks, three at the most, plus he will be heading back to Italy for work on Monday.”

“Who the hell works in Italy and lives in Monaco?”

“He does, you would know that if you had a conversation with him and got to know him.”

“I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“This is home now,” your dad said quietly as you heard Pascale arrive home at the other end. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

You flopped onto your bed with a groan as the call ended. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. You groaned again as you realised that it may be just two weeks of living with him but there would be a lifetime of having him as your step brother. “Fuck!”

“I might have to get a swear jar to cover your half of the utilities.”

You surged upright and found Charles leaning against the balcony door, a balcony you apparently shared with his room next door. “Can I just make one thing very clear? As far as I am concerned, whatever happened two years ago - it didn’t. Nothing happened. I never saw you before today.”

“Nothing happened?” he chuckled as he walked into the room. “You still have that sense of humour because I remember a lot happening. Do I need to jog your memory?”

You hated how your body betrayed you, how your eyes followed his every step as he closed the distance between you. “You’re actually sick. Our parents are getting married.”

He stopped in front of you, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face and his eyes traced your lips. “You were gone when I woke up.”

“Giada wasn’t your roommate.”

“No, she wasn’t,” he admitted with that same smirk that simultaneously had you wanting to both slap it or kiss it away. “I have a new roommate now.”

“Not for long, I am gone as soon as the house is ready.”

“Oh, Bambi,” he laughed, swaggering his way back to the balcony door. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Asshole.”

“Biche.”

“Charles, you should introduce Y/N to Charlotte,” Pascale said as she poured another wine for you. “That’s his girlfriend. You would probably get along with her, she’s about your age and a very nice girl too.”

You bit your tongue as you raised your glass to your lips and stared at Charles over the rim. Placing the glass back down, you smiled sweetly. “Is that right? I could do with making a girlfriend here, someone to talk about boys with. Maybe she can set me up with a handsome Frenchie.”

A foot kicked you under the table and you chuckled at the glare he was sending you over the greek salad. 

“We go to brunch on Sunday,” Pascale said with a pat to your hand. “You should come.”

“Count me in.” You stabbed a sweet cherry tomato with your fork before sealing your lips around it and humming in delight. “This was a delicious meal.”

Charles soon declared he was exhausted from the drive back from wherever it was he worked in Italy and Pascale looked a little disappointed that the first family dinner was cut short. Since he was your ride, you had to say goodnight to everyone too and followed him out to the car that was even flashier than what he had two years ago. His Ferrari fixation was more than just pictures of the cars in his apartment but he drove one too. 

“You are quite eager to leave,” you noted as you lowered yourself into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into the leather. Charles inhaled sharply as he saw the hint of your panties peek out and slammed the door shut before storming his way around the car.

“I’m in half a mind to take you over my lap and turn your ass red,” he growled as he pulled out of the driveway. 

“Arthur is lovely,” you commented as you smiled at your reflection in the window. You were absolutely enjoying the way Charles gritted his teeth, but he had started this dance in your bedroom. “He offered to keep me company while you are away next week. I think I might enjoy his company more than yours.”

“Biche,” he warned as he broke the speed limit and practically skidded to a stop in his reserved parking spot. “You’re mine. No one else touches you. Ever.”

You slipped out of the car and felt his eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs to the apartment. Though you had a key you waited for him to open the door and kept your voice low while he fumbled with the lock in his frustration. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“Everything looks good on me,” he argued as he turned the key and shoved you through the doorway. 

“Is that what your girlfriend tells you?”

“No, she prefers me with nothing on.” 

You could understand why that was but didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you agree as you went to your room. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Night, ma biche.”

It was still early but you refused to leave your room, instead opening your laptop to watch a movie. You were halfway through a stupid rom-com when you heard a feminine voice in the apartment and you paused it to check you weren’t hearing things.

“Oh, Charles, bébé, baise-moi!”

You rolled your eyes at the sounds of the headboard banging on the wall you shared and rifled through your bag to find a pair of headphones. It seemed that they grew louder or you became hyper aware of what was happening in the room next door, and a needy throb began between your legs when you heard Charles moan deeply. 

Your frustration built until you disappeared into the bathroom and doused yourself in a cold shower, cursing him the entire time you waited for your blood to cool. You could finally think clearly after drying off and recognised he was only making his next move in the game he had started. It was time to start planning yours. 

Charles' steps faltered when he emerged from his bedroom shirtless but he recovered quickly and walked past your position on the couch as he went to get himself a drink of water. 

“You should try Gatorade,” you suggested as you flipped through the channels leisurely. “I find it better than water after a good fucking.”

“What are you wearing?” he finally asked after emptying the glass in one breath and wiping his lips dry.

“This is how I sleep,” you said as you stretched your legs out onto the ottoman. “Is that a problem for you?”

His eyes followed the line of your legs to the edge of the black and red babydoll you wore and cleared his throat. “No, no problem.”

“Charles, who are you talking to?” A pretty brunette emerged from the room and scanned the room, taking in her half naked boyfriend talking to you who was barely dressed much more than him. 

You rose to your feet before Charles could recover and bounced over to the young lady, wrapping her in a hug. “You must be Charlotte, maman’s told me so much about you. I thought I would have to wait until Sunday to meet you.”

“Maman? Sunday?” she asked as she looked at Charles for the answers.

“This is Y/N, my step sister - or soon to be -” he added quietly. “Maman invited her to brunch.”

“We are going to be great friends, Lottie,” you sang as you stepped back with a grin. “I just know it.”

Charles nearly broke his glass as he tossed it in the sink and headed back to his room, returning a moment later with a sweatshirt and jeans on. “Allez, mon amour,” he called to Charlotte as he grabbed his keys. 

You pouted playfully as he led her to the door. “She can sleep over, I don’t mind - I have earplugs.”

Charlotte flushed pink and clearly had no idea you were in the house while they were getting down and dirty. It made it all the more entertaining as you waved goodbye. “I’ll see you Sunday.”

Charles waited until Charlotte had passed the doorway before following, casting a final glance your way. “Don’t wait up.”

You felt his presence in your room before you saw him step out of the shadows with just a towel slung low on his hips and the bed dipped under his weight. “Well played,” he admitted, flopping back and making himself comfortable. 

Rolling over, you turned to face him and tucked your arm under your head. “Did you think about me when you were with her?”

His lips twitched before he gave in to the smile. “Every fucking second.” 

“She’s pretty.”

He reached out and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You’re beautiful.” 

You could feel yourself falling to the temptation that his lips provided and it was getting harder to resist taking what you wanted. “You should go back to your room.”

“Your lips say one thing but these say another,” he teased as his touch drifted over your collar and down to your breasts, the thin babydoll doing little to hide your nipples that had hardened since he laid down in the bed. “They are begging for something else entirely.”

“Charles,” you whispered as you leaned into his touch before you could think better of it. 

“I forgot how good my name sounded on your lips,” he hummed as his hand slipped beneath the material, “but I like it better when you scream it.”

“This is a bad idea.”

It didn’t stop him from rolling your nipple between his finger and thumb and drawing a soft sigh from you. “Why is this a bad idea, biche?”

“Because you have a girlfriend, and you’re my step…step…fuck…” Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand slipped between your legs and he touched you over your panties.

“Let me worry about Charlotte, you just relax and spread those lovely legs wider for me.”

“This is going to end badly.” You knew it but it didn’t stop your knees from parting for him. There was something about him that threw caution to the wind, it had been that way the first time you met too. He was pure temptation. He was the apple and you were Eve, unable to resist taking a bite. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay.”

He bit his lip as he watched how your body danced for his touch. “But not tonight.”

“Not tonight,” you conceded as you watched his eyes darken with lust. “Now please fuck me.”

Charles woke alone for the second time after sleeping with you but he smiled when he heard music playing in the living room. “You stayed,” he teased as he walked down the hall, trying to tame his hair along the way. 

“Didn’t have another option but I have found some short term rentals to view next week.”

He froze and his hands dropped to his side. “Wait, you were serious?”

“Yes, this isn’t going to work because if I’m anywhere near you this will just keep happening, and it was a mistake.”

The pop music suddenly grated on Charles' nerves and he grabbed the remote, changing it to another channel before tossing the remote away. You knew he was sulking at the thought of losing his plaything but you ignored him and watched the French news that you couldn’t understand. 

Something on the tv caught Charles’ attention though and he sat up straighter, his arms unfolding as his mouth parted in surprise. The breaking news headline was one that was universal and you realised something big was happening. 

“What is it?” you asked as he remained fixated on the tv. 

“It’s that virus,” he murmured. You had seen it on the news at home before the move, the outbreak reaching all across the globe as it spread person to person. You had been worried about it on the plane with each cough you heard. “It’s spreading here.”

“Okay, and?”

 His hand found its way to his mouth and he bit his nails as he listened, translating and relaying the information for you in sporadic bursts. “You won’t need that rental, Bambi.”

“Why?”

He turned to you with an odd look that you couldn’t quite figure out, possibly apprehension or anticipation or a mix of both. “At midnight tonight the whole country is going into lockdown.” 

His phone started ringing almost immediately and he excused himself to take the call. “It’s work.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” You grabbed your phone and dialled your dad. “Did you hear what’s happening? What do we do?”

“Relax, pumpkin, it’s going to be fine,” he assured you. “It’ll all blow over quickly, I’m sure. They can’t stop the world from turning, can they?”

You laughed in agreement and felt a little better by the time you hung up the phone, but Charles returned looking stressed as he dropped onto the couch beside you.

“Good news or bad news first?”

You didn’t think it mattered either way and just shrugged.

“Italy is also going into lockdown so there’s no reason to go back on Monday.” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pull you into his side. “Looks like we are going to be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“Is that the good or the bad news?”

“Well, I like my job so not being able to do it is bad for me, but being trapped with you indefinitely certainly sounds good to me.”

“Indefinitely?” you laughed and shook your head. “As soon as the house is done I’m gone.”

Charles' laughter silenced you and his kissed your temple. “Oh, Bambi…The builders will be locked down too, nothing will be finished any time soon. You’re all mine.”

“Shit,” you groaned in realisation. It was going to be impossible to keep your hands off him and from the grin on his face he knew it too.

“This is going to be great.”

Click here for part two.

[kakujis]

do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline. 

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him. 

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him. 

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing. 

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening. 

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach. 

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him. 

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him. 

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn. 

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden. 

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand. 

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.  

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia. 

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.” 

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message. 

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity. 

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?” 

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.” 

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.” 

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?” 

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.” 

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier.  it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop. 

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there. 

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his. 

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.” 

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him. 

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran. 

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?” 

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.” 

“liar.” 

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.” 

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room. 

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision. 

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?” 

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?” 

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“ 

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.” 

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.” 

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin. 

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.” 

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire,  “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?” 

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.” 

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover. 

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout. 

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?” 

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.” 

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.” 

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.” 

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow. 

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?” 

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou: 

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them. 

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club? 

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.” 

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor. 

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes. 

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing. 

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.” 

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby. 

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him. 

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?” 

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.” 

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.” 

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.” 

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens. 

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible. 

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask,  tilting your head. 

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback. 

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…” 

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?” 

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?” 

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.” 

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.” 

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard. 

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together. 

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?” 

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it. 

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep. 

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you. 

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

[joonieskinks]

dbf!Simon Riley who has always kinda just been around. Your father and him have been good friends for years, always coming over and hanging with the family, no one minds. You’ve always been comfortable with him, interested in his company and found him attractive of course.

dbf!Simon Riley who can’t help but start to notice you more so as you’ve gotten older and become of age. Well, he always thought you were endearing and a sweet girl, never in a creepy way- but now that you’ve developed into a 20 something, he sees you in a new light. You’re the same way but with him too. Sure, you’ve had your little fantasies about the older man, but now as a grown woman you were determined to be seen different, and now to act on them.

dbf!Simon Riley who agreed to come over on his motorcycle one summer day and help your dad with his truck. Only, your father had to run and aid with work, asking you to help Simon with whatever he may need. Leaving the two of you alone together, a hot, sweaty Simon shirtless before you and yourself in a little sundress. Truly intentional on both sides.

dbf!Simon Riley who comes into the living room to ask for some water, just in his jeans. The sight makes you shift in your seat on the couch, twisting your legs together to help alleviate the ache between them. Fuck, he looks so good. You wonder how he’s never been married in all these years, cause certainly you can’t have been the only interested party.

dbf!Simon Riley who watches as you writhe on the couch, trying desperately as to not gawp at him. Yet he makes an effort to let you know he’s very much interested. You’re alone together, you two know each other well enough, you’re hot, he’s hot - why not? He’s wanted you for longer than he would care to admit. He just needs you to make the first move over him. Especially with your dad, him not wanting to be creepy and all... but Simon very much wants you.

dbf!Simon Riley who never breaks his gaze on you, watching as your eyes darted everywhere to the floor to his defined arms, to the door to his pants. It makes him smirk at how coy you're being with him, but he's not a patient man today.

dbf!Simon Riley who approaches you from across the room, your eyes shooting up to meet his. They widen as he kneels before you, his toned stomach just pressing against your knees, as if he's asking to be let in. You're embarrassed as you slowly spread them for him, a clear wet spot outlined on your panties. But Simon can only cuss under his breath at the sight, fuck- just for him? He feels like a lucky man indeed. He leans in closer to you, hovering just above your lips, daring you to please make this a reality. Finally, the man you've dreamed of after all this years, he wants you too. So how could you be expected to resist?

dbf!Simon Riley who moans into your mouth at your contact, pushing you back onto the couch until you're trapped beneath him. His length straining against his pants, grinding against your core. He can't help but want to explore every inch of you now that you've given him permission- your breasts, your throat, your folds. It doesn't take long for him to push your dress up and your soaked panties down, along with his belt and jeans discarded. Simon needed you now, no time to take you to the bedroom. He thinks that he'll have plenty of time for that later.

dbf!Simon Riley who brings your legs to his chest as his thick length slips into you, pumping deeply, trying to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. He's absolutely determined to make you forget everything but his name in this moment. God, he wants all of you, and he's certain 1000 times with you will never be enough. Simon thinks you look so gorgeous taking him over and over again till the tears start to leak from your eyes, till you're begging for one more release. His girl now, he thinks.

dbf!Simon Riley who thinks about taking you out on his bike together, who thinks about waking up to you in the morning and sneaking kisses when your parents aren't looking. All while making you cum around his cock, your back arching and mouth falling open. Till he fills you up and you're squeezing him relentlessly.

No, he's never been the relationship type, but he thinks deep down maybe you'll be the one to change his mind.

[literaryavenger]

Not So Bad

Summary: It's Bucky's birthday, but he doesn't want to make a big deal out of it.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language. None, really just fluff. No mentions of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1K

A/N: He's my second story for today. Happy birthday, Bucky! Thanks to @ordelixx for the idea and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for read proofing it.

Masterlist

Ever since he’s rejoined society and gained the closest thing he can have to a normal life, being a supersoldier and all, there’s one thing that Bucky can’t bring himself to do: celebrate his birthday.

The more memories he regains, the more he remembers a time where he used to celebrate his birthday with his family and his friends.

Sure, they didn’t have much, but he had his mom and his sister and Steve. It was a simpler yet happier time, and he now all he feels is gloomy.

So every year he treats it like any other day. He trains and goes on missions if he has to, and if he’s in the compound he chills with a book or maybe takes a motorcycle ride, never once even making it known to the rest of the team that it’s his birthday.

“Seriously, Buck? That’s how you’re gonna spend your whole day?” Steve asks Bucky as they walk down the hallway towards their rooms.

“Yes, seriously.” Bucky answers with a roll of his eyes. Every year Steve tries to get Bucky to do something more to celebrate his birthday, but Bucky never budges. “You know damn well what I think about my birthday.”

Steve groans and stops walking, causing Bucky to stop too, and tries one last time before leaving Bucky to his sulking. “I know, but come on! Let’s at least do something together. Let’s celebrate your birthday like we used to, go to Coney Island or something. Don’t spend the day alone!”

“We spend everyday together, Rogers. Sometimes it’s nice to get a break.” Bucky jokes with a smirk before he starts walking again and leaves Steve to chuckle and roll his eyes before he walks to his own room.

What neither of the supersoldiers realized is that they had stopped right in front of your room to talk, just as you were about to walk out. You stopped in your tracks and listened to their conversation.

It’s Bucky’s birthday? How did you not know that? Sure it’s not like you’re the best of friends, but you’re still pretty close. You should’ve known that.

So you decide to do something nice for him today while still respecting his wishes of having a low-key day. You take your purse and jacket and head to the garage, getting into your car and driving towards the city.

Truth is, you’ve always had a crush on the Sergeant. It was hard not to when he looked the way he did, and he was as sweet as Bucky was. 

As intimidating as he might look, you knew how shy he could be. He got flustered easily when he got a compliment, and you found him so adorable when he started blushing and stuttering.

You go to the bookstore you know Bucky loves to browse when he is in the city, it’s a small store that’s filled with second hand books. Bucky always said that he loved to give books a second chance, just like he got one after Hydra. 

You look through the books until you find the perfect one: Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck.

The team saw the movie together when it was Steve’s turn to pick, and as you sat next to Bucky you heard him quietly talk with Steve about the details they remembered from reading the book in the 30s. 

You go to Bucky’s favorite bakery next and buy two dozen of his favorite cupcakes, and when you see that they sell different colors of candles you have to buy a gold and black one.

You drive back to the compound and, after dropping the rest of the cupcakes in the kitchen for the team, you take one, putting the candle on top of it and taking a lighter. You go to Bucky’s room, cupcake in one hand and gift bag in the other, and knock on his door. 

“Come in.” Bucky says from inside, thinking it’s Steve coming to bother him again.

You open the door slightly and look inside, seeing him sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard and a book in his hands.

“Am I bothering you?” You ask hesitantly.

“N-no, you’re not. Come in.” Bucky says quickly, closing his book and sitting up straighter.

You open the door completely and enter his room, taking a couple of steps towards him before stopping. “I… I got you something.”

Bucky’s eyes widen a little as he sees the cupcake and the gift bag you’re holding out to him.

“Did Steve tell you?” His eyes narrow a little, and you squirm a little under his gaze and shake your head.

“I overheard you talking about it…” You say quietly, a little embarrassed. “I get that you don’t want a party or anything, but I thought… I don’t know, I just wanted to do something nice for you on your birthday…”

You start to second guess yourself as he just looks at you and, just as you’re about to backtrack on your stupid idea and leave him alone, he smiles brightly at you, sitting on the edge of his bed and patting the spot next to him.

You sit next to him and you put the bag on his bed so you can light the candle and hold the cupcake out to him with a smile. “Make a wish.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. He knows what he wants to wish for, the thing is he already got his wish: you in his room, sitting with him on his bed. But he makes his wish anyway before blowing out the candle.

He wished for you to be his.

You smile at each other for a moment before you snap yourself out of it, shaking your head a little and picking up his present and giving it to him.

He puts the cupcake on his nightstand as he takes the bag and opens it and you can see his face light up when he sees it as he runs his fingers down the cover before looking at you with a smile. “Thank you, doll.”

You smile back at him and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Happy birthday, Bucky.” You say before getting up and leaving, letting him have his peaceful day of relaxation. 

Bucky watches you go with a slight blush, his hand over his cheek where you kissed it and a goofy smile on his face.

Perhaps celebrating his birthday is not such a bad thing after all.

[neuvistar]

BIOHAZARDOUS ! signed: satoru gojo . wc 2.3k

— featuring ┊satoru gojo x fem!reader (bits of suguru)

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! heated arguments (quite literally heated), mentions of cheating, toxic behaviours (don’t date red flags guys), car sex, vaginal fingering, titsucking, riding, he’s kinda mean here ngl . 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. | 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔’𝐒 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄? (tbd soon.) tags. @yuutx

— a/n ┊ok guys ☝️🤓 so the whole point of this title is kinda ironic… yk how the definition of biozardous is like it’s toxic n shit n poses a threat 2 humans??? YEAH. it’s like how toxic n stupid people poses a threat 2 everyone bc of their toxicity n how it’s dangerous (don’t get into relationships w red flags guys 🙅‍♀️) this is also a make-up post for not posting my silly tattoo artist blade sooner but it’ll be posted at some point!! AND guys i love gojo i swear i don’t see him like this at all!!! this was jus created all bc of that one frat boy art i saw 😢

suguru crossed his arms over his broad chest, his hard stare drilling into one of the motorcycles he was inspecting. he chuffs out a gentle laugh, knowing exactly what was wrong with the bike before leaning down with his screwdriver, unscrewing a few screws here and there. his ears picked up the sound of footsteps, glancing to his side.. his eyes follow your every movement, a mixture of gentleness and curiosity in his gaze. he watches as you turn away from his direction, packing your bag thoroughly. he can't help but take in the view of your hair. you’ve.. always been beautiful to him, but his thoughts are quickly pushed aside as he clears his throat and calls out to you, “leaving already?” his gaze was soft, soft as they always were, the creaking of the metal echoed through the garage while you gathered everything.

“yeah, my boyfriend’s pissed. i didn’t tell him i was working for you here,”

“yeah? he’s that type of guy?” suguru cocked his brow at you, holding the screwdriver firmly against his palms, “y’know, sweetheart.. i’m not sure if you can handle satoru. listen, i’ve heard some things about him. i know i can’t be judging your new relationship but i don’t think he’s good for you.” you pause, eyes lingering momentarily on him, lips curving into a grin. “i’ll be fine, suguru. i know he’s far different from you, but i think i’m alright, thank you for checking up on me.”

suguru’s eyebrows furrow, the hint of concern marrying his otherwise stoic facade. he nods, walking over as his towering stature looms over you, offering a semblance of protection despite the bond that faded away between you and him. "alright, i believe that.” he waves a hand dismissively, shooing away any lingering doubts or fears, even as his own heart rate accelerates with the aspect of more challenges, he was worried about you. he watched you finish packing, holding the bag firmly against your side, “i’ll be off then. i’ll see you tomorrow.” just as you were about to exit, suguru immediately took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin, “wait.” he stared at you with a sense of worry, pressing your hand against his cheek. “.. if you ever want us to go back to how we used to be.. i would accept that in a heartbeat. you know that, right?”

“yes. yes i’m aware.”

“ … i’m glad.”

…

yet to your dismay, your boyfriend saw and watched the entire thing while he was inside his car, seeing it all unfold right infront of his eyes. satoru bit the side of his mouth, clenching his jaw as frustration flowed through his veins. you had a lot of explaining to do.

you knew he saw, you knew that fact for sure. you were dreading every step you took to his car, but you couldn’t afford losing your composure now.. you had to act natural. once you opened the car door, you were met with a familiar silence that caved in between the both of you. three.. two.. one..“well, i hope you come bearing good news.” and.. there it was. you couldn’t help but glance towards his direction, a firm yet smug expression on his face. you sat there with your knuckles all white, from how tightly you were gripping your bag. “satoru.”

satoru groaned, rolling his eyes at your stern tone, knowing you were about to ramble him on how he shouldn’t be jealous because of something small like this. "you think i’m blind, huh? i’m practically a natural, baby," he retorted, attempting to lean against the window of his car beside him, "still not over him?" his grin was crooked as he tried to hide the smugness. "you think you found someone better than me?”

“toru, why are you always like this? every single damn time, it’s getting repetitive.” you turned away from him, staring off into the sunset, his voice ringing inside your ears. “i could say the same thing about you, [name]. you go crazy even at the sight of another girl being in my presence. so i think this is even.. am i right?”

“does that girl you hooked up with a few months ago count as even to me just speaking to someone i used to be acquainted with? you’re insane.”

"oh, come now," satoru drawled with a click of his tongue, rubbing his temple. you knew you were getting on his nerves, but that didn’t matter in a situation like this! "you don't seem to understand what i’m sayin’ at all. she was just a hook up. nothing more. it’s been months, baby. plus, weren’t we on a break?”

“nothing more? are you just disregarding the fact you practically cheated on me? even if we were on a damn break, that doesn’t mean you can go whoring around with another woman behind my back. are you fucking sick?”

despite the irritation twisting his face, satoru forced a smile. “and i suppose you're here to save poor, fragile me from my own recklessness? how cute." he chuckled softly, his eyes filled with mockery. "if you really cared, you wouldn't be working for your ex when i told you not to.” your body paused, frozen in place. amidst the silence, he could tell there was pure frustration radiating from your body. you glanced at him, raising a brow. “excuse me? why are you dragging suguru into this.. he hasn’t done anything!”

satoru raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips as he noticed your reaction. "he has. he dated you.” he chuckled dryly, shifting uncomfortably on the car seat. "working for suguru?" he let out a low whistle, shaking his head. your boyfriend’s smirk widened, turning into an annoyingly charming grin. "or maybe you're just another pawn in his grand scheme, huh?" he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, his expression challenging. "whatever. just do your job, babe. don’t bother fucking around with my business. tell suguru i said hi. and next time, bring some smelling salts for when he faints from surprise that we’re still together.”

unexpectedly, the sound of the seatbelt unbuckling rung through satoru’s ears. his breath hitched when he felt your hands pull on his shirt, tugging him towards you with a cold look in your eyes. “me working for someone i am not romantically linked with at all is nothing compared to you going out with someone you hooked up with months ago.” you leaned even closer.. “i’m not afraid to break up with you, right here right now..” satoru snorted at your words, barely suppressing a laugh as he took in your delicate display. hm. you were smaller than he was, that’s for sure. “your determination is almost impressive," satoru spoke, leaning forward slightly as his crystal gaze drifted downwards momentarily before locking with yours again. with a sardonic grin, satoru tilted his head at your words looking amused. "you need to separate us? sure thing, doll. just like you need to separate yourself from suguru’s puppet strings.”

you were tired of arguing. you knew one thing and one thing for sure, you were not gonna stay here with him. atleast not for long, until you have the last say in this. “then if you wanted to break up, you could’ve just told me straight up. don’t waste my damn time like this.”

"oh, believe me, i’ve considered it," satoru retorted, chuckling softly. "but then i’d lose all this fun, wouldn't i?” he gestured vaguely around his car, a smirk playing on his lips. "maybe i just like this sort of thing. it keeps things interesting. and besides, where would you be without me?” his gaze flickered to you, holding your stare for a moment. "i’m taking you home after this. i’ve got more important things to do than argue with my girlfriend who thinks she's got me figured out."

“i don’t want to figure you out.” you argued, the tone of your voice held such rage.. it was almost enough to break through him. “fuck you and your ego. you’ve done nothing but ruin every single relationship you’ve been in, yet you complain? you’re a fucking jerk.”

“whatever floats your boat then.” he muttered under his breath as he sank back onto the car seat, his body screaming at him to rest. but there was no peace to be found, not with his mind swirling with thoughts of the long heated argument you both just had.

… quite literally, heated.

now this.. you didn’t know how you even ended up like this.

“fuck, satoru…”

you were seated on his lap, breathing heavily with your shirt all ruffled up, your breasts in display for him like eye candy as satoru sucked on your delicate nipples. your skirt hiked up to your stomach as he held you gently. satoru groaned, his lips still wrapped around your nipple, fingers probing deeper into your warmth. he released your pert nipple with a pop, trailing kisses down your chest as he slowly slid a finger inside your heat, licking his lips at the damp feeling of your slickness coating his digit. “shit, you're so wet for me, baby," satoru whispered against your ear, his voice thick with amusement. your boyfriend then added another finger, stretching you out. with a slow, steady motion, satoru’s fingers pumped within you slowly inch by inch, allowing your body to adjust to his digits. satoru devoured your moans, he knew he wouldn't last long with you all pretty like this. he reached up and cupped your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone in a gentle caress.

“satoru, you fucking jerk…” your breath hitched your breathing grew completely ragged and uneven, your skin flushed and your eyes fluttered shut. yet, satoru couldn't help but smirk as his fingers delved deeper inside you, drawing out your moans that were like perfect melodies to him. “you’re so tight, baby," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.. coated with lust. he wanted more of you. he could feel his cock twitch painfully against his briefs, desperate to free itself from its confines. “makes me want to bury myself inside you right here, right now." he paused, letting the words hang in the air between them, “right infront of your workplace. it’d be nice if suguru caught sight of this, wouldn’t it?”

your boyfriend’s cock throbbed the more he spoke, desperate to be inside you as soon as possible. satoru’s mouth was completely busy, his tongue lavishing attention on your sweet nipples as his fingers danced within your folds. he could feel your arousal building up through your aching body as you trembled with pleasure, and it only fuelled his own desire. he sucked harder on your nipple, slowly pushing another finger deeper inside your wetness, crooking it slightly to hit that sweet spot you loved so much. “you’re not really mad at me, aren’t you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "you like feeling me inside you, making my cock feel good like this. after all… that’s why we’re dating, right?” … this asshole. you could feel his other large hand cupping your breasts, thumb brushing against the nipple he was licking just a few minutes ago. "i could do this all night, y’know?" he murmured, his voice husky with desire, “keep your pretty little stubborn ass right here, right in my lap, and never let you go."

“you should let me go.”

“oh but i won’t.“ his eyes locked onto yours, with a slow, calculated motion, his fingers were now replaced by the head of his cock. true inch by agonizing inch, he pushed inside you, feeling your tightness enveloping him, and he knew he was lost. “you know why? this pussy is too good for me to give up to someone else.”

“satoru!” you gasped out loud as you felt his member slid inside your entrance, the uncomfortable space of the car taking a toll on you as your ass nearly pressed against the steering wheel.

"wow, look at you," satoru soothed, his voice low and cocky as he held you close against his body. “taking it so well like always," he whispered as his lips brushed against your ear. his hips rocked gently as he pumped his cock deeper into your warmth, the car creaked and groaned around the both of you. satoru savoured the feel of your body wrapped around his, swallowing your moans and gasps of pleasure. “shit.” his fingers dug gently into your hips, holding you firmly in place. the sounds of your passion mingled with the rustling of your clothes and his.. the soft moans that escaped your lips were enough to hypnotize him, he’d always been obsessed with them. satoru’s hands roamed against your body, tracing your breasts, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips. his lips pressed against yours deeply, his tongue dancing with yours as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, cock thrusting deeper into you with each pass. you hated how your body responded to him, your own hips meeting his, and especially how your pussy was squeezing him tight as you came messily all over his cock, your sweet moans muffled against his lips.

satoru’s own orgasm washed over him, his body tensing as he emptied himself into you, the feeling of you enveloping him like a velvet glove drove him to the edge, making him want to ruin you once more a second time.. but he can wait. the taller male’s breath came in ragged gasps.. holding you close against him, heart pounding in his chest. “such a sweet girl like you shouldn’t be with me, babe. i almost feel bad for you,”

…

“you know i’m trouble, don’t you?”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ｐｉｎｋ ｒｏｖｅｒ♡

♡ Pairing: biker!boyfriend!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: When your boyfriend accuses you of cheating, you go to his shop to tear him apart but a revelation brings you closer than you were before.

♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluffiness

♡ Word Count: 1.2k-ish

♡ Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence/criminal activity, hwa & y/n are unhinged (but v sweet to each other), daddy hwa, pet names (pretty girl/good girl), unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving)

♡ A/N: I'm just down bad for Hwa with that goddamn grill in, ya'll. Outlaw Hwa is hitting different rn.

“Just go down there and talk to him!” your best friend shouts from the window of your 4th-floor apartment, “Don’t overreact!” Don’t overreact? My boyfriend’s accusing me of cheating and you don’t want me to overreact? You hop onto your hot pink motorcycle, the one Seonghwa gave you for your birthday, and smile up at your roommate. “Calm down! I’m not gonna hurt---him!” She says something else but your bike’s already roaring down the street, headed straight for Hwa’s shop. 

It’s a good thing that the streets are empty tonight. Your mind’s so clouded that nothing good could come of you dipping in and out of cars, dodging drunk partygoers. Hwa would kill you if he knew you were riding like you had a death wish. Then we’re even. You already want to kill him for implying that you’d ever cheat on him with anyone. Let alone Yeosang.

Before you met Hwa you were on your own in this city. As capable as you are of handling yourself, there are bigger badder things out there than you. Not only did Hwa protect you from them, he introduced you to the girl who’d become your best friend, and accepted you into his little family like there’d always been an empty spot there waiting for you. 

The love you have for each other is precious to you. It’s the one thing in life you’ve never questioned, making it hurt that much more to find out that he does. When he called you tonight saying that Yunho saw your bike outside of Yeosang’s apartment a few times you didn’t think much of it. Hwa’s been getting into some pretty dangerous things lately and he wouldn’t listen to you when you tried talking him out of it. 

You thought, out of everyone, maybe you’d be able to get Yeosang to talk some sense into him. Would it be sorta awkward to tell Hwa that? Probably. What you didn’t expect was to be defending yourself against this after all you’ve been through together. 

You pull up to the shop and the garage door’s open as usual. Music’s blasting while Yunho and Jongho work on their bikes, knocking back soju like it’s water. “Ah, shit” Yunho mumbles, eyes widening at the sight of you charging towards him. Stepping into the fluorescent lighting of the shop, you grab the baseball bat Jongho keeps by the door and bust a headlight on Yunho’s bike. 

Yunho rushes to the aid of his baby, “My bike! What the hell?” “Did you tell Hwa I slept with Yeosang?” you ask, arms ready to take another swing. Jongho, unphased but not stupid, moves his bike out of the way to avoid being caught in the crossfire. “Hi, y/n” he says innocently, flashing you that gummy smile. You can’t help but smile back, “Hey honey, how’s it going?” 

“I didn’t say you slept with him!” Yunho shouts, “I said I saw you two together…” “You said you saw us ‘together’, Yunho? Together?” Your next swing lays waste to a workstation full of tools. “Where is he?” Jongho points to the office, Yunho much too busy weeping over his baby to be of any use. Tossing the bat to the ground, you gently pat Yunho on the shoulder, “My condolences.” 

You push your way into the office and, surely enough, there’s your boyfriend. Hwa sits at his desk, toiling away at his comfort engine, a piece he’s taken apart and put together a million times. Something about it helps his nerves and you’ve never questioned it. 

There’s a half-empty bottle of soju on his desk and his eyes are puffy. Almost as if he’s been crying. His eyes flick up at you for a split second when you close the door only for him to continue what he’s doing as if you’re little more than a gust of wind. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I came to talk.” 

“And fuck up my shop?” 

“Yeah and fuck up your shop because you’re an idiot!” you yell, snatching the tools from his hands, “How could you ever think that…” Hwa shoots up from his seat, angrier than you’ve ever seen him, at you at least. “Then what were you doing with him? Hmm?” “I was…” “You were what?” “I was asking for his help to stop you..” you admit. The anger on Hwa’s face turns to confusion, “Stop me?” “From doing this…this…suicide mission!” 

Tears well up in your eyes at the thought of anything happening to him. You try your best to choke them down but they’ve already begun to fall. “You trust Yeosang so I thought if I could get him to change his mind it’d change yours too.” You lower your head to dry your tears on your sleeves but Hwa’s already rounding his desk, pulling you against his chest. “I’d never do that to you” you sob, breaking away from him. 

You dig the keys to your bike out of your pocket, slipping them into his hand. Hwa stares at the keys, his heart skipping a beat as he soaks everything in. “Y/n, I didn’t…” “Don’t, okay? Just…I’m sorry about your shop. I’ll pay for it” you apologize, turning to leave. Hwa blocks the door, wrapping his hand around the knob before you can grab it. “I don’t care about the shop!” he snaps, “Now sit down!” 

His shoulders drop, his body language softening, “Please. Sit down.” Noticing your hesitance, he goes back over to his chair, patting his lap. “Please.” Since the day you met, he’s been using that sweet voice and those puppy dog eyes to disarm you. If he thinks it’s gonna work this time he’s…correct. “I’m sat” you huff, plopping down on his lap. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing your soft body. “I’m sorry” he sighs, resting his head against your shoulder, “I don’t think you’d do that to me. You know if I did he’d be dead by now.” A quick reach into the recesses of your brain reveals flashes of what happened to the last man who tried to touch you. Rest his soul. “Then why’d you say it?” Hwa bites at his lip, looking as if he’s ready to cry. 

“Hey” you whisper, stroking his cheek, “Talk to me.” Staring into his eyes it becomes clear that what you saw before wasn’t anger at all. It’s fear. “I’ve been on edge all day. I haven’t eaten or slept. I used to be so sure about this mission but now…” Hwa hugs you even tighter, “I have something to lose and that scares me. I have to do this though. They need me.” 

He’s right. You can’t even argue with him about it. Trying to stop him has been a lost cause from the start but you had to do something…anything…in case there was the slimmest chance that you’d be able to keep him safe. You kiss him on his temple, petting his head, “You’ll never lose me, Hwa. Promise me you’ll come back and I promise I’ll be here waiting for you.” 

Running your hand down his face, you feel his lips curve into a smile. Hwa looks up at you, the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, “I promise.” Instinctively you kiss him and, as his hands dance along the curves of your body. What was meant to be a peck on the lips quickly becomes something deeper. Turning to face him, you straddle his lap, arching against his chest.

Hwa groans, fingers kneading your plush ass. “Are you starting trouble?” You giggle, grinding down against him, “I am.” “Good” he grins, “I like trouble.” He slips away from your kiss a moment to remove the silver-plated mouthpiece adorning his bottom row of teeth. “Oh baby” you whine, lips brushing against his neck, “You know I like it when you eat it with the grill in.”

When you talk like this it makes him go feral, just like you knew it would. Lifting you onto the desk, he shoves everything behind you to the ground. Metal clicks and clanks into the darkest corners of the room as you tear at each other’s clothes, your mouths drawn back to each other with every movement. You’re two magnets bound only to each other.  

Hwa pushes you back on the desk, your arms dangling over the edge as your back hits the warm wood. “Ah! Don’t let me fall!” He tosses your legs over his shoulders, pressing your knees to your chest. “Never, my love,” he says through mouthfuls of your thick thighs. Hwa grabs you by the hips to keep you still but you’re still squirming and giggling. 

In your defense, his tongue moves so lightly over the surface of your skin that he makes the touch of a feather seem like sandpaper. Hooking two fingers between the cotton of your panties and your clit, he moves his hand up and down, knuckles teasing you each time they graze you the slightest bit. 

“You want it?” he asks, fingertips dipping into your moistening entrance for a fleeting moment. You say something unintelligible. An answer jumbled by the loveliest moans. Taking his fingers away, he wraps his lips around your mound, taking all of you into his mouth. The heat that he breathes against you, his tongue running over the outline of your pussy, has you grabbing at the back of his head. 

He tilts his head back, licking his lips, “Be a good girl and use your words. Tell daddy what you want.” “I…mmm…fuck” you stutter. You’re doing your best to focus but he presses his tongue against your slit and your mind goes blank. “Eat my pussy, daddy. Pretty please” you pout and he’s ripping your panties off before you can finish your sentence. 

Hwa’s tongue dives into your core, feverishly traversing the ridges of your warmth to stroke your sweet spot. Fingers tangled in his hair, you swear you’ve gained x-ray vision with all of the stars he has you seeing. Every curl of his tongue in your center, every slurp of your folds, radiates through your body. Pleasure knocks through your system like dominos. One nerve ending sparking another. Each sensation more intense than the last.

Hwa twists his fingers into you, massaging your walls while his tongue pulses against your clit. The tighter you pull his hair, the faster he moves, driving you higher and higher until you’re ready to implode. “Mmm, that’s it. Cum for me, pretty girl” he hums, his mouth not leaving you for a second. He reaches his free hand up to grip your breast, tearing it free from your bra to thumb your stiffened bud. 

“Hwa! Oh my god! Aah…yes, daddy. Yes…y…” A fire sparks inside of you, consuming your entire body. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you clutch your hands over your mouth to muffle your screams. Hwa delights in how wet you are, creaming all over his fingers, drenching his wrist. Taking your hands away from your mouth, he kisses you, swallowing every noise you make. 

“Gonna cum one more time for me? Hmm?” he asks and you feel the head of his swollen cock rubbing against your still core. Hwa thrusts into you, coming down to kiss and lick between your cleavage. You lose your grip on his hair, hands sliding down his back. “Fuck, you’re so sexy baby. Feel so fucking good around this dick.” 

There’s no moment of tranquility. No chance to catch your breath. No calm before the next storm begins to roll in. Hwa’s so deep inside of you, so determined to make you take every thick throbbing inch of him. “Hwa…I…I can’t feel my legs” you gasp, clawing at his back. Hwa hisses at how wonderfully it stings, “Good.” 

Heart racing, sweat coating both of your bodies, the pressure comes to a head again. “Shit…mmph…don’t stop. Fuck me, daddy!” you cry out, going limp. Hwa cradles you in his arms, his movements becoming sloppy. A uniquely strong twitch of his cock introduces a new warmth to your core as he fills you with so much cum that there’s a fullness in your belly. 

He collapses onto your chest, the two of you desperately gasping for air. “Y/n, I…have…something…for…you” he says, his breathing still labored. Hwa reaches down and pulls one of the desk drawers out, digging around for something for a second. You arch your back to stretch your tightened muscles, “Is it a chiropractor?” “Not quite.” 

Hwa dangles a familiar looking set of keys in your face. You pluck them from his fingers, inspecting them. Keys? His keys. “To the shop? Hwa, why are you giving me these?” He props himself up on shaky arms, “Someone has to take care of business while I’m gone, right?” “Take care of it? I can’t…I’m not you.” “No you aren’t. You’re better.” 

A cacophony of twisted metal, crumbled concrete, and arguing blares out in the garage. Jongho and Yunho rush into the office, immediately turning their backs to keep from seeing more than they already have. The two of you jump to your feet, scrambling to throw your clothes back on. “Seonghwa, we have an uh…problem” Yunho coughs, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

Jongho peeks out the corner of his eye, grinning, “It might get a little physical so you might wanna…uh.” Yunho slaps him on the back of the head, “Shut up.” In the distance, you can hear the screeching of tires. “Go! I’m right behind you!” Hwa shouts, clearing them out of the office. 

“Are we ripping heads off?” you ask, hopping back into your combat boots. He shrugs, tossing on his jacket, “Maaaaybe.” “Yay!” you cheer, kissing him and running to catch up with the boys. Hwa rests his hand on his heart, utterly smitten with you, “Fuck, I love you! I’m gonna marry you one day, woman!”

[cas-backwards-tie]

Wonderstruck

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Ex!Reader

Summary: Simon Riley finally takes it upon himself to check up on his childhood best friend and ex lover. He's been torturing himself reminiscing on your relationship and what went wrong for years now. Little does he know... you're in the same boat. Having seen someone today you swore was Simon on your way to work, you too, reflect on the past.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Stalking(?),

Mentions of: Drinking, Smoking, Motorcycle Riding

A/N: I don't know why but I constantly am getting inspired by certain songs, or am reminded of certain characters, and all the lyrics were just screaming childhood best friends to estranged lovers, right person wrong time Simon Riley. Nevertheless, if you'd love to listen to some versions of the song which inspired me, here we are! Line divider credit: @saradika-graphics and I'd also love to thank @penelopepine for helping me with the ending <3

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as it'd crossed his mind, yet somehow he couldn't rid himself of it time and time again. That's how he found himself here; watching you cross the street, he can't help but notice the vintage band t-shirt you have on, frayed at the edges with the little strings of the hem coming undone that you've refused to cut off. In you hands you clutch a new phone, no doubt an upgrade from the last one he'd seen you with- though it's been a while.

As you mindlessly tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he can't help the way his insides churn. You were always effortlessly beautiful; you never had to try for anything. Even now, the way you can walk across the busy cobblestone side streets of London in high heels without seemingly second-guessing yourself, body language still poised on guard and ready in case anyone tries anything, just like he'd taught you.

It's clear from your outfit and the lipstick you’re donning that you're attempting to sway the officials at work. Maybe trying for that promotion you’d always been talking about, but never had the gumption to make today the day. What’s different about today, he wonders. You'd always been a go-getter, and truthfully, it was something Simon admired about you. Even in the moments where he'd resented it the most, the constant pestering and prodding at him in an attempt to get him to move and drag him out of the holes his dug himself into...

Where would he be now if only he listened?

What if you knew better?

He couldn't deny that the thoughts kept him up at night while he was away. Though, admittedly, more often than not it was the string of random memories that he’d get glimpses of during the day. It’d always be at the worst times, too. Two weeks ago in Berlin he’d been clapping Kyle on the back, hoping he’ll get it together as he stumbled out the pub. While Soap had the camaraderie to slug half his mate’s weight over his broad shoulders, Simon found himself unable to help as his eyes were drawn in by a couple a few paces down the block.

“Bollocks!” He’d shouted out in frustration. Double-checking himself, he didn’t have a spare cap on him, and he knew he sure as hell didn’t bring an umbrella on your little last minute ‘trip’. Not that he’d really call walking down to the local Tesco for snacks late one summer evening a trip. ‘It’ll be an adventure! Just think of it like that.’ You’d persuaded him.

“What? Are you going to melt?” He hears you joke. As his brown eyes land on your face when you turn to meet his gaze, a few steps ahead of him down the road, he can’t help the smile that breaks out across his lips upon your laughter. Sure, you may both be a little drunk after spending the evening in and having a drink or two. But it doesn’t change the way he feels about you, if anything, it makes him even more keenly aware of the way you affect him.

“Maybe. Who knows?” He teases in responses, tugging his jacket up and over his head to shield himself from the cool summer rain. Despite the time, now he’ll most likely need a shower when you get home. As he jogs to catch up and bring you under his little makeshift cocoon, you do the unexpected.

It was you, of course… he should’ve known better, always testing him, pushing him. With a gentle drop of the plastic bag full of snacks upon the side of the road you’d been strolling down, he watches as you run into the empty street. The streetlights illuminate you in a hazy orangey-yellow light as you begin to spin and twirl, dancing in the street.

With a shake of his head, he’s left stunned once again by the vast difference of your personalities. Your jeans and t-shirt are starting to get damp and discolored, and there’s a taunting, displeased remark sitting on his tongue just waiting to be made. It’s the utter joyous smile on your face as you tip your head back and relinquish yourself to your fate that leaves him wonderstruck, he thinks.

“Come on, Simon!” You beckon, finally meeting his gaze once again with that familiar carefree, hopeful look behind your irises. With an outstretched hand, he knows he can’t deny you this… and really, there’s something inside him that tells him he doesn’t want to, either.

“It’s her, innit?” He hears his Captain’s voice call over his shoulder. Pulled from his memories, Simon dismisses Price with a nonchalant grunt. As the old man tries to place a hand on his shoulder he dodges it, realizing he’s been watching the couple for longer than he’d thought. With Soap and Gaz almost to the end of the block, Simon sighs before shrugging his shoulders to right his jacket and head off in their direction for backup.

That was a time when your playfulness been more easily taken and accepted without question. No fighting, no push back, resentments… maybe that was it: he’d stopped going with the flow. He’d stopped accepting the punches and started dodging and weaving your advances at fixing things and picking up where he left you. Because while it’s too late now, he’s finally realized it for what it is: he left you in the dark, he’s the one who pushed you away, closed himself off.

That night he’d curled up in the temporary bed he’d been assigned, more memories continued to consume him. The way you’d effortlessly ease his worries on nights he’d come home stressed, feathers ruffled from whatever petty drama went on during the day. Whether it was something the guys said that stuck with him, or something he couldn’t get out of his mind when he came back from deployment. Your kisses always seemed to be the cure, your love… or maybe it was just… you.

“You know furrowing your brows like that will cause wrinkles,” you inform him, reaching out to run gentle fingers over his bunched skin.

A grunt of acknowledgment leaves his lips. “More for me to worry about, hm?” While it’s all he says, his eyes are searching over your composure.

“No,” it leaves your lips without thought, “just something to think about, be mindful of. If you’re not upset, then why furrow them?” Voice quiet in the moonlit apartment, your fingers smooth out his brows gently as you admire him. “I read something the other day about how it’s possible our body informs our mental state. If you’re tensing all the time, it won’t help your stress, Si.”

He simply hums in response, doing nothing to stop you as you ghost your lips over his for a moment before planting a loving chaste kiss to his. While big and wide warm hands find the exposed bit of skin between the hem of your sleeping pants and the shirt you wear, it’s the unexpected cool sensation that elicits a muffled gasp. Your much smaller hands are sneaking up underneath his sweatshirt to explore his abdomen, caressing him like he were made of soft silk. Your lips meet again for a chaste kiss.

Then it’s turning into something more; you have to take it slow, your lips dancing against one another, his hand rubbing your back to let you know it’s alright. As you begin to run out of breath, it’s only when you pull away, lashes fluttering against his skin that you ask him. “You know I’d love you even with wrinkles, right?”

Taken aback, he can’t help but stare. Unsure how to respond or what to do, his lips part in search of words. “Is that so?” He finally questions, hand giving your side a soft squeeze.

“My favorite boy… I love you to the moon and back… scars and all. I always have, and I always will, Simon,” you whisper, ghosting his lips again before planting one on him, “I just hope you know that.”

And at the time, he swore he did. It’s odd, really, and he wouldn’t lie to himself about it either. Simon tried dating after you, he tried hooking up, he tried it all… but it never felt right. As many times as he replays the memory, he can never get past the feeling of home. With you, it felt like home. You never made him feel expendable, or worry of the abandonment he knew would inevitably come.

For years afterward he blamed you, he saw it as your fault that you left, you abandoned him… when, maybe, really it’s finally time he admits it was him. He made it a self-fulfilling prophecy, and there was nothing you could do.

It's on your way home from work that you see them; while waiting for the bus, there's a playground in the park a few meters away. Really, the idea that human nature is predictable is always laughable at first, but only after watching people and stepping back to become an observer you've noticed from time to time that... it's more than true. Even from a distance, the children in the park look happy... but that's not what catches your eye. There's a blonde boy, and a girl, much like yourself when you were younger, playing what you can only assume is something halfway between hide and seek and tag, considering the playground offers more space and obstacles than hiding spots.

Perhaps it's the joyous looks on their little faces, or the way they unabashedly play, carefree and unaware of the adult worries and burdens the world hangs above their heads, just waiting any day to drop upon their shoulders unexpectedly. However, you can't help but reminisce on the ways you'd spent your childhood playing games much like the one the children are playing in the distance with a boy, very similar to the one before you, loving life, content, happy, simply aspiring to be the best at finding your ultimate hiding spot.

The soft squeak of the wheels coming to a halt before you and the mechanical release of air as the doors open brings your attention back to the present. Before you know it, you're on the bus, unconsciously taking a seat along the windows, hoping, just maybe you'll catch a glimpse of them as the bus drives down the road down its route. Though as you pass, the sun is beginning to set in the distance, the children departing the playground their separate ways as dusk begins to take its toll and curfew sets in place. The whole time you'd been focused on yourself, it's entirely possible that your own boy wound up beating you at your own game, finding the best spot and hiding himself away from the rest of the world.

Maybe it's the fact that you could've sworn you'd seen someone that looked almost identical to Simon on your way to work this morning, but memories continue to plague your mind for the first time in months. All the weekends he'd spent over at your house doing aimlessly silly things to fill your time, from science projects, to playing 'warrior' outside, you never felt more alive than the time you two spent together.

"I'll keep ya safe, yeah? Nothin' to worry about," Simon insists, gently guiding you to the side of the vehicle. Despite going out with your friends to the city for dinner, you both were sober. It should be fine, it would be. You'd been with him a million times... how different could it be? He'd run it by you as many times as you'd asked.

You swear it's not a good idea, but you trust him to the ends of the Earth. With a look over your shoulder, his brown eyes are steady, not uncertain in his unwavering gaze as he nods in assurance. Swinging a leg over the seat, you're in front this time. Helmets in place, hands on the clutch and brakes, you make eye contact with Simon once more before he flicks both your visors down. "Ready?" You ask him.

"More than ready, Love," he quips. With a quick shove to the kickstand, balance (with Simon's help of course), and a rev of the engine, you start the motorcycle off slowly. Gloved hands around your waist, he gives you a gentle squeeze.

He was always pushing you out of your comfort zone, that one. It was the first time you'd driven his motorcycle, and while it'd been scary and daunting for the first fifteen minutes, you eventually got used to it and it blossomed into something freeing. You understood then why he likes it, and you'd never been more grateful for someone pushing you out of your bubble. While flashes of all the kisses, caresses, and intimate moments between the two of you start to effervesce, you force yourself to remember the last time you'd seen him.

With a lingering hug, you're hesitant to let him go. Even if you know it's necessary, it's still hard... it always has been. "You'll let me know when you get in, right?" You ask, searching his eyes. They stand out from the black warpaint, his uniform always made him look handsome, even if you couldn't imagine how intimidating seeing his actual attire would be in his enemies position.

A dismissive and irritated grunt meets your ears as he shrugs your hands off. He'd packed quickly, something he's been doing more recently; taking more and more jobs, you've begun worrying for his health, not that he'd talk about it, of course. "If I 'ave time."

While you weren't able to get all the details on this excursion, you did manage to get that it was essentially a 'clean-up' for him. He had to go in and make sure that the hostages they'd had a lead on were all rescued and no one was left behind, no assailants or informants lingering or hiding. You've known that his job is hard on him. Losing people can't be easy, especially when you feel like you could've done things differently and changed the ending to their stories. Yet, you also know that throwing yourself into work the way he's been doing without talking to anyone, simply managing to pass debrief counseling by whatever meter their measuring is... not working. Not anymore, at least.

"You're running from this! You won't even answ-" you shout, gesticulating as you do everything in your power to keep the anger and worry that's tightly wound wrapped up in your gut under control, not to let anymore of it seep out than already has.

"An' you're one to talk?! You don't get to interrogate me," he argues, rounding the couch to get closer. The dark circles under his eyes scream volumes, even if he's unwilling to acknowledge whatever's going on for him. "I deal with that enough in my line o' work. Don't-"

"Simon," you say, tone holding that familiar warning tone.

You'd gotten home safely and were able to change and make something to eat. The feelings haven't left the cavity of your chest, still lingering there, the way he always does. He may be 'Ghost' on the field, yet he still haunts your memories, always making you question whether or not you did the right thing. What if only you'd done more? What if you hadn't pushed him so much? It wasn't always in a bad way, either, in fact, most of the time you'd find yourself chuckling randomly at some inside joke only the two of you share, or something he'd find funny. The stolen sweaters and hoodies you know for a fact long ago washed away his scent. Even if you swear sometimes that you can smell the faint odor of cigarettes he used to smoke. In the city when you're out with the girls you'd find yourself fondly inhaling the smell whenever a stranger would be smoking one nearby.

You'd cursed him: Simon Riley. Yet, the aching inside you he left often made you feel like he there's some sense of closure he never fully gave you. The SAS would tell you that he'd get your letters, even if you stopped writing years ago a little while after the split. You never got a response, and you never really expected one. Simon never really was one for letter writing. It was the only way you felt like you could get that closure, that part of your life done with. Ultimately, it did help you move on in some way.

A sigh tumbles past your lips as you change the channel on the television, unsure what you really feel like watching. A reality comedy show is on, something of a local prank show. It wasn't the best show, really, but it's one you used to watch a lot as a kid, and thus, another reminder of him. This one makes you smile, nonetheless. It's a good memory; nostalgia envelopes you in the way that makes you crave times that felt easier. Just when you wrap yourself in your fuzzy blanket, there's a soft rapt at the door.

Heart accelerating, eyes widening slightly, you slowly rise from the couch. The television volume isn't on loud, and while there may be light coming from it to inform a stranger you're home, that isn't enough to say that you're alone. With slow and cautious steps, you approach the door, careful to check the window near the door from a vantage point you're unseen. It's a man in a black hoodie. Panic sets in and you turn to skillfully head back toward the couch in search of your phone with quiet and quick steps. That's when it strikes you.

With all pretenses abandoned, you rush to the door and fling it open, lips parted in shock and awe. "Simon?" Searching and attempting to scan the partially shielded face, you're able to see tufts of blonde hair lit from the porch light.

"I know you've no reason to-" he starts, hands removing themselves from his hoodie's pocket, "but please let me come in and explain."

"You came back," you whisper. It's more for yourself than him, and whether it's out of bewilderment, intuitive knowing, or a premonition; you were right.

As he takes a step forward and reaches out for you with shaky hands produced from the familiar black pocket of his hoodie, you don't retract. Slow and tentative movements on both ends, he grabs ahold of one hand, thumb consciously skirting back and forth repeatedly in a form of grounding and seeking comfort. "You were right," his deep voice rasps.

Your hand cautiously seeks his cheek beneath the shield of his hood. Fully expecting to meet the spandex material of his balaclava, you're surprised by the warmth of his skin underneath your gentle touch. Wrist pushing against the cotton hood, it gives way, revealing his face. Searching his deep brown eyes for any sign he's genuine... you're met with truth.

With a weak nod you turn, leaving the door to shut softly behind the two of you.

~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 7: Are We Old Friends Or Old Enemies?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter seven of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm going to rate this 18+ just to be sure. References to Past Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Cursing, Blood, Guts, Graphic Death, (spoilers?), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

*********************************************************

Present Day

Your motorcycle crunches loudly against the black gravel driveway outside of Crimson Countess' trailer. It looks worse than you imagined, shoved behind Vought-land, and sprouting out of the ground like a fungus. Not an unusual thought given it's ogre-like inhabitant.

You weren't looking forward to seeing her after all these years, because you knew it wasn't going to end well. Deep down you hoped that she had let go of everything that happened in the past, like you had tried, well, until Butcher and Hughie showed up at your apartment. Then again, you're not sure that you've really let go of everything that happened. Sometimes it felt like you just shoved all your feelings into the deepest darkest part of your brain where they’d been festering for the past forty years.

And ever since Butcher and Hughie showed up, those feelings had been clawing their way out like a banished Titan climbing out of Tartarus.

You think again about driving away. If you saw her, there wouldn't be any going back. You couldn't go in there pretending to be your daughter, you had to be you. Which meant the possibility of losing the life you'd constructed in the aftermath that followed your long superhero career.

Was it worth it? Was Ben worth it?

You sigh considering that thought. After the fight it was difficult to answer that question. If the answer was no, you might as well just leave. But the answer was yes. You hated that after everything that happened between Ben and you, the answer was yes.

And that meant you needed to know the truth, needed to see it in her eyes. Which also meant there was only one choice.

You look around the clearing where the trailer sits. It’s in a circle of trees that filter the setting sunlight through their lofty branches, making patterns on the gravel where weeds and patches of grass break through every few feet like an oasis in a desert. Further down the road to the right you see a collection of empty circus carts that rust onto yellowed grass, rising from the earth to tangle in the wooden wheels of the carts.

At least the trees are pretty. You think to yourself trying to focus on the positive. They were, after all, one of your favorite things to paint.

You consider your apartment downtown, the open floor plan and large windows, very different from how she chose to live her life. Your eyes trace the mobile home thinking back about the fungus analogy.

The trailer was covered with peeling white paint stained black and yellow in some areas where sticky mold had begun to fester against the structure. The rickety porch was rotted, so much so that when you walked across it, it creaked loudly beneath your feet and you stepped around several foot-sized holes, where others had fallen through.

She definitely didn't budget her money well. I wonder how much money she got when she was a hero? I know that my salary wasn't amazing. Ben definitely did better than me because of his films.

Then again, you were living off money from your father, and your grandfather's investments in real estate, not to mention your artwork was selling better than it ever had.

Your knock against the flimsy front door of the mobile home, not using your supe strength, but the entire house still shakes.

Probably wouldn't withstand a thunderstorm. Hopefully she's invested in an umbrella.

No one answers and for a moment you hope that she's not here or she's dead, but just like always you’re disappointed.

"Who the fuck is it?" You hear Countess' familiar voice shout from inside.

A swarm of memories flock across your mind at her voice, but you push them aside.

"Your best friend in the whole world." You respond, before you can stop yourself. Sarcasm was an easy fallback. If your mother was here she'd say that it wasn't ladylike.

Really just disappointing her in every century. The thought makes you happy.

"What?" Countess rips open the door so savagely that you wonder how the door didn't come off in her hand. You watch her eyes widen and her face pale as her gaze lands on you.

Well, that's certainly not a normal reaction to seeing me.

"Y/n?" You hear her heartbeat spike in her chest. "You're-" She sputters to look for the right word.

"Alive? Yes." You smile at her. "Well, aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Um-"

A flash of the last time you saw her comes roaring back. The smug look on her face when you caught her and Ben together, the way her face was flushed bright red, sweat dotting her hairline while he- You clear your throat to stop the memory.

You push past her into the small residence, not waiting for her to invite you, and your nose wrinkles as the smell of sweat and her rancid perfume invade your nostrils. It was barely two rooms, the small kitchen/living room was separated from the bedroom with a red beaded curtain that doesn't hide the unmade bed and clothes covered floor.

This was unusual given the fact that she was wearing her supe suit, complete with cape and mask. It was a little tighter in some places than you remember, her reddish hair reeked of cheap dye, her perfume like a cloud of sulfuric acid, and her pointed, cruel face was more wrinkled that the last time you saw her.

"I'd like to say that this is cute," You turn to look back at her from the small kitchen/living room, that was covered in dirty plates and take-out boxes. "But it's kind of a shit hole, isn't it?"

That was fast. So much for trying to be civil. Too much history I guess.

"What are you doing here?" She keeps her voice calm, but the tempo of her heart suggests otherwise.

Your eyes trace the lines of her face, the wrinkles, the subtle graying of her hair that the dye couldn't cover. "Just thought I'd check in. See how things are going. You definitely didn't age well."

"What the fuck do you want?" She snarls this time.

You can't help but smile at her. Something about this whole situation was utterly ridiculous to you.

She said Ben died. Why am I even here? What did she have to gain from his death? The thought swishes around in your brain. But then why was she afraid when she saw me? You think about all the times you spent watching her manipulate the others on Payback and all the other times you were around her, she never showed fear. Why now?

"I'm here because somebody showed up the other day asking me about Ben." You shrug, running one of your hands against the dirty kitchen countertop examining the tip of your finger as if looking for dust. "And it's funny, because as they were asking me questions I realized that you and I never talked about what happened that day. I mean I heard what you said through Stan and Legend, but I never heard it from you. Thought it was time we had a little heart to heart."

Her pulse spikes again, but she covers it with a smirk. "You want to talk about Ben?" Her voice drips with false sweetness. "Well I'll say this, he was a good fuck. But I'm sure you knew that."

Your entire body goes rigid, remembering the night that you found them together, the night after you finally told him you loved him and he pushed you away.

"I mean, after all, he popped your cherry didn't he? Made you a woman." Countess' smirk turns into a rueful smile. "You definitely waited long enough. Ben told me how long you’d been friends. He told me the sex was so boring, that you were so inexperienced, that he wanted a real woman who could actually please him. A woman who wasn’t quite so-." She sniffs, tapping a bright red fingernail against her hip. “Big.”

Her words are like a slap in the face and you feel the cold disapproval of your mother for the first time in eighty years. The anger that surges up underneath your skin flares hot against your cheeks.

Ben wouldn't have said that about me. He- he knew how special that was for me. He said that he wanted it to be special for me.

You remember how happy he looked when you woke up in his arms the next day, before you said the three little words that you couldn't hold in anymore, the ones that you had wanted to say to him since you were eight.

"Poor little y/n. You worshiped the ground he walked on for so long  and finally he decided to pity fuck you. It’s so sad. You wasted your life pining for someone who will never love you. And you thought you could just come here and intimidate me? You’re still the same little girl who begged Ben to fuck yo-"

Her body flies forward telekinetically into your outstretched hand, that clamps down around her throat.

"But I do intimidate you." Your eyes shift to purple with your display of power. "Your heart rate hasn't dropped below 120 since I got here. So obviously there's a reason why you're afraid of me." She gasps against your hand, but you don't let go. "Tell me what happened that day." Your voice has slipped into a monotone, tinged with rage. “And I promise that I’ll let you live. In what condition, well, that's up to you.”

"I don't have to tell you anything!" She spits, pushing her hands together and sending you flying backward as the ball of fire hits you just under the right side of your rib cage.

There's a high pitched popping sound, an immeasurable amount of pain, and everything goes black.

It wasn't the first time you'd died. You'd heard of other supes being able to come back from the dead, and of course the others like Ben and Homelander who were almost invulnerable to injury, but your gift was different. Yes you had enhanced senses, speed, and strength, which were the original powers that were displayed after you received the injection of Compound V, but there was more to it than that.

It took you the first two deaths to figure it out, and you could remember both clearly.

The first was a few weeks after you took Compound V, when you and Ben were on his tour overseas promoting the might of the United States. It was supposed to be safe. The shot fired from the crowd was meant for Ben, but you pushed him out of the way. It was before you figured out he was bulletproof. Your gut reaction was to protect him as it always was. He ripped the guy in half for what he did and turned back to you. You remembered how he looked, remembered the fear in his eyes he never allowed to break through the façade he wore as Soldier Boy as he held you across his lap, holding a hand against the wound where blood poured freely from your chest. You remembered gazing up at him for what you thought was the last time and then the darkness that followed, welcoming you like an old friend.

And then thirteen seconds later you woke up, gasping for air, the bullet wound healed leaving only a circular scar behind. You didn’t understand at first, it wasn't until you died the second time that you realized how powerful you could be. The second time was Ben's fault, a scorned lover, a telekinetic, with a bone to pick with him. When you got in her way she'd snapped your neck with her powers. But this time when you woke, it was different, you felt different. You could feel her powers stirring beneath your skin, and it wasn't until you flicked her away from Ben that you understood. When you died a normal way you came back after 13 seconds, but when a supe killed you, you came back in 13 seconds with their powers.

You didn’t know why 13 seconds. In fact it was Ben that told you it was exactly 13 seconds, why he knew that you didn't know. It seemed that for everyone else 13 was an unlucky number, but for you it was the difference between life and death, literally. You also didn’t understand why you kept the powers. Sometimes you wondered if when you were killed by a supe your body analyzed how you died, understood it, and then you came back with that forbidden knowledge like you’d just eaten the fruit off the wrong tree. 

Ben was the only one who knew and when anyone asked, you attributed your sudden ability to move things with your mind as something you never used in public. Having that much power scared you. You weren't sure what people or Vought would do if they found out, so you kept it to yourself and so did Ben. Honestly, sometimes you think the reason why he kept it to himself was because he didn’t want anyone to be more powerful than him, but you didn’t care about the abilities. You didn’t think you were a god despite Vought’s constant worship and praise. If anything, you felt closer to hell and in a binding contract with the devil.

Exactly thirteen seconds later, you sit up from the floor completely healed while Countess stands there over you, a horrified look on her face. She'd never seen you die before.

"Did you just try to kill me Countess?" You ask.

She puts her hands together to shoot another fireball, but you make a motion with your hand to that flicks her away. Her body soars backward illuminated in the purple glow that manifests with your telekinesis, into the small hallway that leads to the bathroom on the other side of the mobile home.

"You know," You stand from the ground looking down at your melted motorcycle jacket. "This was my favorite jacket. Had it from the 80's it was vintage. Damn.”

“How-“ She groans stumbling to her feet and leaning on the wall for support.

“We all have our secrets don’t we? And I'd love to hear yours."

Her eyes flash to where the front door is, but you beat her to it, yanking her back towards you by the arm, crushing her right wrist in your hand. Her scream of pain quenches the anger fueling in your chest from the words she snarled at you earlier.

"You're pretty worthless, even with your powers." You sigh. “I was hoping for more of a challenge.”

She cradles her broken wrist to her chest, backing away from you. Fear flashes in her eyes when she realizes that she's made a mistake, but instead of it making you feel powerful, it makes you pause.

Being a hero was difficult. You watched how so many others abused their powers over the years, feigning to be pure and heroic but really succumbing to dark urges when no one was looking. It was also why you hated Herogasm.

You hated it because you knew what happened to the normal people, the ones that thought they would be safe with the heroes they admired so much. You'd watched Ben lose control more than once, knew stories of innocent people that were hurt, not that Countess was innocent. But you never liked to hurt people with your powers. Standing here in this trailer made you guilty and watching her cower away from you made you guilty despite your shared history and her harsh words.

"So I'm just going to ask one more time, what happened to Ben?" You force your voice into a snarl, shaking off the guilt.

Because it was necessary. It wasn't just about you settling something from years ago, it was about Ben.

She deserves this, she isn't a good person.

"Go to hell." She spits at you.

You grab her by the front of her red suit and throw her away into the small kitchen. Countess' body crashes into the lopsided brown cabinets with a solid thwacking sound smashing through the flimsy structures. Blood drips down the side of her face from where she hit the cabinet corner, blending into her reddish hair. She rises from the ground with an angry snarl, clutching a dirty knife in her hand.

"I don't want to get tetanus from that. I can't remember when my last shot was-" You begin to say with a sigh.

She swipes the air in a vicious arc, but you grab her by the wrist, dodging the knife. "You never learn do you?"

The wrist twists to the side in your hand with a loud snapping sound followed by Countess' scream that reverberates in your skull as you break her other arm. "Pretty soon you're gonna be out of limbs, so I'd start talking."

Countess drops to her knees as the pain begins to seep into her body. "Fine. I'll tell you-"

"Then do it."

"He's not dead."

As the world stops spinning a high pitched ringing in your ears takes over, filling the monotonous drone of seconds ticking past. The past forty years no longer matter, the next hundred wouldn’t either, because Ben wasn't dead. As much as you hated him, the thought chilled you to your core, because then where the hell was he?

"Or at least he wasn't when they took him." She mutters, holding her arms to her chest.

"What did you do?" Your voice comes out in a whisper because you can hardly speak let alone comprehend what she's saying. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" You scream, grabbing her by the front of her suit.

"They wanted him." She spits.

"Who did?"

"The Russians. They wanted him and they took him!"

"You sold him out to the Russians?" You roar, hauling her up into the air so close you can smell what she ate for lunch. "Why? Did they pay you?"

"No. We all hated him!" She snarls. "But you were always around." Her mouth twitches into a painful smile. "It was so easy to get him to fuck me. I knew it would drive you away, you'd wanted him for so long and he didn't give a damn about you. And then you weren't there to protect him!" She laughs through the pain that builds in her chest.

I was right. She fucked him to make me angry, to get me to turn my back on him. I wasn't there to help him and they sold him out the first chance they got.

"He always wanted me more than you, knew that I could satisfy him better than you ever could. You really thought that he could love you? Ben doesn’t love anyone!” Her eyes glint with malice. “And you’re still the same pathetic little girl who begged Ben for his co-“

Her head tears from her shoulders in you hands cutting off her next words, the explosion of blood from her carotid artery spraying your face, and soaking into your ruined clothes. The ringing is back, filling the void of silence in the air that followed the tearing of bone and sinew.

You stand there for a minute holding it, not quite comprehending what you've just done. You hadn't lost control in a long time, not since you had the fight with Ben about Countess, or when you threw your sofa through one of the walls in your apartment and then broke every piece of glass, windows included, and had to move when you found out he was dead.

Or not dead. The thought chills you. Payback handed him over to the Russians, where he's been for the past 40 years? Why? Just because he was irrational, angry, and a dick? There's got to be more to it than that. Stan would have never allowed that. Soldier Boy was his golden boy, his meal ticket-

You think about the last forty years of hating Ben, cursing him, trying to forget him, wishing that you'd never loved him. The night you fought washes over you, bringing the anger, frustration, and heartbreak roaring back. The head in your hands smashes into mush as the memories barrage your mind, surging over the dam you built to keep them away.

You and Ben had always watched each other's backs. It was the promise you made to each other before all of this started, on the night he asked you to come with him and leave everything you knew behind. You knew him better than anyone else.

And yes maybe he fucked me once and I told him I loved him and he immediately went out and fucked Countess-

Your heart cracks in your chest with the thought, the heartbreak coming back in a wave of sadness that makes you shudder.

But you couldn't leave him, because you knew he would have never left you. Ben may have said that he didn't care about you, but you knew in your gut that Ben would have torn anyone apart who hurt you. He's always protected you. Even before you became supes together.

You stare back down at the mush coating your hands and the front of your clothes.

Why the fuck is everything so complicated?

********************************************************

When you get back to your apartment you're covered in a thin layer of soot, from blowing up the trailer, and a layer of blood and brain matter from removing and crushing her head. You hoped that by blowing up her home and burning her body with your newfound abilities that it would be enough to cover your tracks, but you were uneasy. The buzz of killing her and the shock of her revelation had worn off, but was now replaced with a numbness when you think about what could have happened to Ben, what could still be happening to him.

The shower does little to ease your mind and sleep evades you, despite the exhaustion that pulls at your limbs for using your powers. Dying usually meant that you needed to replenish that energy, but you couldn't muster the enthusiasm to do that. You just felt listless. The last forty years felt like a lie, felt like a waste, because as you’d been living your life Ben had been trapped in Russia.

So you open your laptop on the counter, wet hair soaking through your sleepshirt, and begin to research flights to Russia leaving within the next few days.

I have no idea where I'm going. I go to Russia and then what? Where in Russia? The Kremlin? Yeah let me just waltz right up to that.

You lean forward with your head in your hands thinking about Butcher. He came here because he wanted to know more about Ben. Maybe he knew where he was. He was the one who mentioned Russia.

You pull the card he left behind on your counter towards you, rubbing your thumb over the number. Legend said he kills supes. So is that what he wanted? To find Ben and kill him? The thought makes a chill travel down your spine, immediately followed by the primal urge to protect Ben. But what had Ben ever done to him?

You look at the number again.

If I call him, he's going to know that I was lying. Not that I'm scared of him.

You finally pick up your phone and dial the number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Hey this is Y/f/n Y/l/n. I just remembered a few things about Soldier Boy and thought you'd like to discuss them. Just give me a call-back whenever you get this."

You hang up the phone and sit there for a minute, eyeing the coffee that sits untouched next to your open laptop.

I killed someone today. The thought should be chilling, but you feel no remorse, no guilt.

Is that because I think she deserved it?

Your mind goes back to what she said about Ben sleeping with you, what he told her about you. The urge to cry rises in your chest with the memory of her words.

You remembered that night. You had been so excited. Ben had taken you out to dinner for your birthday, despite your insistence that you'd celebrated enough of those. The restaurant was quiet, secluded, different than the flashy world the both of you were living in.  It had reminded you of before you took the Compound V, when you were still normal. The food was good, there was flirting and hand holding at dinner, and finally a slow dance when he kissed you for the first time.

And when he took you back to your apartment and to bed, it didn’t seem like a quick fuck, it didn't feel like cheap sex. The way he took care of you, held your hand, said your name, looked at you, held you close to him after, and the soft smile on his face that he had only when it was the two of you- it felt special. He made it special for you because he knew how important it was for you.

Tears slip down your cheeks. It would have been one of your favorite memories if you didn't know what followed, what was going to happen the next morning or in the next 24 hours. 

"Guess it was just a lie." You mutter to yourself, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes.

The next morning when you woke up in his arms you couldn't help but tell him that you loved him, whisper it to him, more happy than you'd ever been curled against his chest. You remembered the way he looked at you, like you were crazy and then he left for his movie premiere even though we were supposed to go together muttering flimsy excuses as to why he had to leave. And finally the image of him and Countess in the bathroom crashes over you, sending shards of glass back into your heart.

You thought that by now you'd picked them all out.

More tears drip down your cheeks, as your thoughts drift back to Ben and the years that followed that night. You sigh considering what to do.

I wish I could just forget, wish that I could leave him, but I can't.

But that didn’t mean you had to forgive him.

**********************************

After a night of no sleep, you stand poised over the wooden chest in the back of your closet. Packing for the flight that left in two days was turning into a bigger task than you'd thought.

Your current wardrobe wasn't suited for storm the capital city of Russia and kill everything in your path to find Ben, it was more suited for late night painting and art shows. The amount of paint stained overalls, oversized band t-shirts, sweatpants, and dresses in your closet was astounding and none of which screamed "fear me." You would definitely need to go to the mall to find more things that you could move in, if need be, and find things that hid your identity. All it took was one photo or video linked online and everyone would know that you weren’t dead.

You knew that no one would be willing to talk to you, give up the information willingly, not to mention if you really had to break into the Kremlin it was not going to be a walk in the park.

It wasn't that you were out of shape. You still trained during the week, took self-defense classes, and worked out to prevent yourself from going soft, but fighting Countess was the first time in forty years that you had faced another supe and you weren’t up to speed on the supes that the Russian government employed.

You also didn't like the idea that you were going in blind. There could be any number of men there, any kind of supes, and anything waiting for you.

But the truth was, deep down you didn't care. What the rest of Payback did had ignited something deep inside you. You knew that people were going to die if they stood in front of you, but the urge to protect Ben rose above all else. Because you still loved him, despite everything he said, despite everything he did, he was still Ben after all this time and you couldn't let him go that easily. 

You hold up your supe suit in front of you. It was made specifically for you, designed of a breathable material that made movement easy, not to mention the hood and mask did a wonderful job of concealing who you were.

I really don't want to wear this again. You think to yourself, eyeing the smooth material. It wasn't that you hated your suit, it was what it represented. If you wore that again, you'd be Indigo and you'd spent the past forty years trying to put as much distance between you and your superhero career as possible. You would be recognized instantly.

Could I even squeeze into this thing again?

You look at yourself in the floor length mirror on the opposite side of your walk in closet. You looked the same as you always had. Countess’ jeer about you being big makes you flinch again, bringing another cloud of insecurity over your mind.

Maybe that’s why he never slept with me before that night. Maybe that’s why he ran to Countess.

The thought is immediately followed by the image of Missy Callahan at your 16th birthday and how Ben clung to her. Then followed by your mother’s constant attempts to hide your figure. And finally, followed by all the other women you had ever seen Ben with. None of the others had looked like you. You shake off the urge to cry and look back at the suit.

Maybe I can paint over the purple, make it only black? Would that really change it that much?

Suddenly your phone rings, shattering the still silence in your apartment. For a second you hope that it's Butcher returning your call, but when you lift the phone to your ear you realize that it's something much worse.

"Hello?"

"I need you." The familiar voice says.

Shit.

******************************************************

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs @bughill126

[chvnnie]

Deserving

han jisung x reader

word count: 3k

genre: smut — MINORS DNI

warnings: switch!jisung, switch!reader, mentions of alcohol, smoking (cigarettes — jisung), mentions of weed, jisung gets slapped, kinda enemies to lovers to kinda friends to lovers???, jisung refers to reader as his “property”, dirty talk, unprotected sex, mutual orgasms, rough but ✨sweet✨ and really i think that’s it? if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: is there really much of a difference between hate and love?

a/n: if y’all have any issues, take it up with @j14sung!!! it’s all her fault!!! also no breath play? in one of MY fics? what is happening

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents han jisung as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @hugs4chan, @stranger-thighs, @beautifulcolorgarden, @scottmcallisdaddy, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @humayraaaa, @americanokisses, @djeniryuu, @epiphanynaffit

The back patio’s railing really needs to be replaced. White paint falling off in mid sized chips, shudders in even the lightest breeze. This has to be a safety hazard; it’s shocking the fraternity hasn’t been fined for this.

So when Jisung leans against it, the creak of the wood can be heard over the heavy bass of the music. He flinches slightly, praying that tonight is not the night it decides to crumble. Once he realizes that he is stable, his shoulders relax, digging in his jacket pocket for the half empty pack of cigarettes.

He’s really not much of a smoker; the smell lingers, making all of his clothes smell like the mistakes he continues to make. Still, when he’s a little drunk, he can’t help but reach for the crutch. Placing the stick between his lips, cupping the flame so the wind doesn’t blow it out. One click, two click, three — god, he needs a new lighter. Can you tell how often he smokes?

It’s necessary for tonight. Jisung can’t face the idea of going back inside that party without a little buzz. Something to distract him from the fact that you showed up.

You were expected to show up. The circles you run in are so similar. If Jisung is invited, chances are, you are too. That’s not really the issue.

The issue is the goddamn mini skirt you walked in wearing. The issue is the thin strapped crop top that’s so tight, he can tell you’re not wearing a bra. The issue is that fucking silver waist chain, decorated with pretty metal hearts. Hugging your hips perfectly.

The issue is that you didn’t come to the party alone.

From the back patio, Jisung looks through the kitchen window. All of these people, most friends of his or at least friendly to him, careless. Happy. Not worried about a single thing, dancing and drinking like the night isn’t going to end.

Like he’s not shivering outside. A scowl fixed on his face as he watches you and this guy pass the window, in search of the bottle of vodka you like.

Fuck. This cigarette isn’t enough to numb this shit.

Stubbing it out with his boot, Jisung decides to go back inside. Maybe he’ll play pong with Lix, or smoke with Changbin. There has to be something inside to distract him. Navigating the crowd, he barely gets into the packed living room before there’s a hand on his arm, halting him from going any further.

“There you are.” A sickening sweet voice says, and he has to close his eyes so she doesn’t see him roll his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you!”

Someone from his chem class. Not very notable; she’s pretty, sure. Smart, though she always seems to be asking him for help with the easiest assignments. He doesn’t really care for her. Voice grating, her interest overwhelming. But that made her easy. All he had to mention was the fact that he was going to be driving past her place, and she was begging for a ride on his bike.

It was timed perfectly; Jisung’s motorcycle “conveniently” parked outside of the lit building. Right where you have class on Thursdays, ending at noon. The same time his chem class gets out. There was no way you could miss him putting an extra helmet on the girl.

Especially considering the way he wet his lips. Smiled. Waved at you. Making sure that you saw the girl get on his bike. The look of annoyance and distaste was so satisfying. Jealousy. God, it looked so good on you.

Was it worth it, though? Jisung was sure that move would be the end of this back and forth game the two of you have been playing — that you would reach your limit, lash out. How dare he take another girl on his motorcycle? What kind of fucking player flirts with you nonstop just to turn around and get another girl wrapped around his finger?

Or, at least, that’s how he expected you to react. He never thought you would retaliate.

Pulling his arm out of the girl’s hold, he glances down at her. Bored expression on his face. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I thought we could dance a little.” She moves in front of him, inching closer and closer until her body is practically pressed against hers. “Maybe you could take me for another ride—“

Over her shoulder, he sees you. Leaning against the wall in the corner, sparkly eyes staring at the guy who stole you. He has a hand resting by your head, leaned down. Whispering something to you that makes you laugh.

Oh, come on. That guy? You can’t seriously think he’s funny.

He barely hears the girl continue to go on, telling him all the things they could do when they get back to his place.

“Look.” Finally, he makes eye contact. “I’m not interested.”

She looks almost shocked, as if he hasn’t been fully checked out of the conversation the entire time. “What? But—“

“All I did was give you a ride. I don’t want to fuck you; don’t you think you would have seen my sheets sooner if I had?”

A hand strikes his face, hard. The rings making his cheek sting. Head turned to the side, he hisses in pain, temper rising like the color of his cheeks.

“Fuck you, Han Jisung.”

Fine. Maybe he earned it. He did use her. But what he thinks is really unnecessary?

The fact that you saw the whole thing. Smile on your face as you huff a laugh. Lips parting, mouthing something to him.

Deserved.

It’s like rubbing salt in a wound, the way you grip this guy’s jacket. Pulling his body into yours before you tilt your head back slightly, and bring your lips to his.

All the hard work he did to numb himself, the jealousy, the possession, the anger, fades in less than a second. A dull warmth climbs up his body rapidly, the blood vibrating beneath the skin. The entire party fades, silence replacing the joy. The fast, steady sound of his heartbeat the only thing Jisung can hear.

That, and the sound of his footsteps.

Just like you, Jisung grabs the guy’s jacket. Expect from the back, and not to kiss him. With an unnecessary amount of force, he pulls him off of you, shoving the taller man to the side.

Before you can even say anything, he glares at you. “Enough.”

The sounds of that fucking asshole’s protest are nothing more than an annoying buzz. Like the sound of a fly, something easily drowned out as Jisung grabs you by your wrist. Pulling you out of the party and onto the back patio.

It still smells like cigarettes outside. When the backdoor slams shut, your body is pressed against it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Jisung—“

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice has dropped a few octaves, a foreign sound to the both of you. “Who was that?”

God, you’re so annoying. Giving him the exact the same he gave you when he put that girl on his bike. You’re so fucking pretty. “What, you can give desperate girls a ride but I can’t bring another guy to the party?”

“Oh, you can.” Jisung agrees, nodding his head though his face is still cold. “But to let him touch you?”

“You don’t—“

“He’s lucky I didn’t fucking break his jaw.”

Your eyes narrow at him. “I’m not your property, Jisung.”

It’s his turn to laugh. Low, chilling. Tongue in cheek as he smiles at you. “Yes, you fucking are.”

He waits. Bracing himself for another slap to his already sore, possibly bruising cheek. After all, it is what you think he deserves. Instead your eyes drop to his lips, lingering only for a brief second before they flicker back up.

“Take me back inside.”

The two of you barely get upstairs before your bodies are twisting together; Jisung’s hands in your hair as you let your head fall back. Tongue rubbing against your own, sweet moans filling his mouth.

Neither of you know who’s room you’ve stumbled into. Does it even matter? Your body is against his, the smell of your perfume giving him the buzz he’s been chasing all fucking night. The world around Jisung doesn’t exist when you’re his entirety.

“I’m so sick of you.” You gasp, pulling your lips from his. Hands eagerly slipping under his jacket, you shove it off from the shoulders. “You’re so arrogant—“

“Yeah?” He huffs out, smirking when you shiver from his touch. Chilled hands under your pathetic excuse for a top, pushing the fabric up. “What else?”

“You’re an ass.” His shirt is next, buttons hardly hanging by a thread as you yank it open. “So fucking entitled—“

“Mm, I am.” Teeth nipping at your jaw, thumbs flicking over your nipples. Under his touch, he can feel your goosebumps rising. His touch driving you just as insane as you drive him constantly.

“Y-you—“ it’s getting harder to speak; his touch making you melt despite your best efforts not to. “You are such—“

When he looks up at you, you’re rendered speechless. Every strong opinion you’ve ever had of him fizzling away, extinguished by his gaze. Brown eyes blown out, darkened with lust and loss of control. But something. Something about the way he’s looking at you.

Jisung first met you in algebra. The first day of freshman year, in that class that started before the sun even fully rose. Three days a week, ninety minutes. Far too much time spent in a prerequisite class.

You were the last student to arrive, forced into the remaining empty seat at the back of the class. Right next to Jisung. Your hair was still wet, a pimple patch stuck on your left cheek.

Ever since, he was helplessly in awe of you.

Almost four years have passed, and he still looks at you the way he did when you first met. When he pretended to lose his pencil just to talk to you. When he would wake up earlier than necessary just so he would be the first face you would see when you arrived. All this time, and he’s always looked at you the same as he did when he fell for you.

It’s just taken you this long to realize it.

“I hate you.” You whisper, though the taste those words leave are disgustingly bitter.

Jisung gives you a lazy smile, not convinced even in the slightest. “Take off your fucking skirt.”

He makes you keep the waist chain on. The second your skirt falls to the ground, he’s yanking off your panties, sitting down on the end of the bed before making you straddle his lap. Lips catching yours, he keeps one hand on your hip, twisting the chain around his fingers, while the other slides down your back. Grazing over your ass, riding up the side of your thigh. Memorizing your body with his fingertips as a path is drawn to your core.

He moans louder than you when he starts to trace your folds. The slick makes it easy to feel you, taking his time rubbing from your clit to your entrance. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, tugging lightly when he starts to circle your hole.

“So wet.” Jisung mumbles against your lips. “Is this what I do to you, pretty?”

If time has taught you anything, it’s that he’s nothing but a tease. The circles are slow, hardly pressing down. Giving you just enough pleasure to make you whimper without actually entering you. Over and over he traces the shapes, not satisfied until you’re whining his name.

And then, he takes it all away from you. Moving his hand before you can grind down on it, chuckling when you yank at his strands in protest. He was so close, you fucking asshole. Why would you—

Jisung shushes you, bringing the pretty whines to an end as he pushes the wet fingers into your mouth. “Stop fussing. Let me play.”

You should bite his fingers. Take the control that rightly belongs to you. You’re not to be toyed with like this — but there’s a reason why you never fully pushed him away. Why you dealt with the torment, the push and pull, why you never told him no.

When he looks at you like he is now, starry eyed in wonder, there’s a feeling that only he gives you. One that’s been sought out, but never replicated. Only Jisung can make you fall hopelessly with just a look.

With a nod, your tongue works around his fingers. Lapping them clean, letting the weight on your tongue soothe you. Bringing you a peace you’ve been longing for since the day you met him.

“That’s my girl.” He mumbles, pushing his fingers back a little further. Stopping only when you gag around them, twitching in his lap. “So good for me.”

He lets go of your chain, working on the button of his jeans while you’re occupied. Once satisfied, he eases the fingers out of your mouth, entranced with the way drool clings from them to your lips. He takes the hand to his now freed cock, working the spit and slick mixture over his length.

Your eyes followed each movement, watching the slow motion of his fist. It’s almost shameful for you to admit how long you’ve been thinking about this moment — what he would look like. Taste like. Bigger than you expected, a girth that makes the breath catch in your throat.

Jisung catches your staring. “What, baby?” He coos in almost a condescending way. “Want my cock?”

God, there’s only so much more you can take of his incessant teasing. Rolling your eyes, you place your hands on his chest and push him, forcing him onto his back. Jisung tries to sit back up, but you keep one hand firm between his ribs while the other grabs his cock. Tugging with a firmer grip that he was allowing himself, causing his head to roll back and Adam’s apple to bob.

“Stop fussing.” You mock his earlier words, positioning yourself over his length. “Let me play.”

It’s almost too fast. Sinking down fully without giving yourself a proper chance to stretch. The sting runs up your legs, making your lower stomach ache where the tip hits. Your lips are parted, a breathy gasp overshadowing Jisung’s deep moans. His hands come to your hips, nails digging into your skin and fingers lacing through the waist chain.

“Fuck.” His voice could be a growl, head heavy as he looks up. Staring at where you’re sat on his cock. “Goddamn, baby, you feel so good.”

Dizzy from the pain, room spinning from the need, you use the hand planted on his chest to lift yourself up. Almost allowing yourself to get to the tip before slamming back down, skin slapping against skin. It’s not enough — falling into a pattern of slow upwards, but quick downwards. Teasing and chasing at the same time.

Jisung helps by lifting your hips, taking the exhaustion off your shoulders so you both can enjoy.

“I like the way you look underneath me.” You chuckle, words broken by pants. “It’s cute.”

He bites his lip and smiles, pinching your hips hard enough to make you yelp. “Don’t get used to it.”

Walls fluttering around his cock, heart bursting from your chest at the implication. Knowing this won’t be the last makes it even better, driving you to move faster and faster.

Moans have to be heard on the first floor, both of your throats turning raw as you cry into the unfamiliar bedroom. Jisung has started to us his hips, tongue between his teeth as he fucks into you roughly.

Stars are starting to dance in your field of vision, an ache in your core spreading through your body. It tingles your toes, shakes your thighs. Body almost falling limp at the yet to come.

“T-tell me.” You say, gasping when Jisung hits the perfect spot.

His brows furrow, sitting up on his elbows. He’s close, too — the tremble of his lip is a dead give away. “What? Tell you what—“

“Who—“ your nails dig into his chest, eyes squinting shut as tears start to sting them. Everything. Everything is fuzzy, and he is solid ground. “Who you belong to—“

“Fuck. I’m all yours.” He groans, barely letting you finish your request before he responds. It’s so easy for him to say, giving into your every wish. “I’ve a-always been, baby.”

With his words, you crumble. The ache overbearing, making your body start to fall slack. Jisung is quick to pull you into his arms, chest to chest as the rhythm of his hips slow. Working you through your orgasm and bringing him to the apex of his.

He smells like sweat, cigarettes, and oaky cologne. His hands are soft as they rub soothing circles on your back, lips feather light against your shoulders. When your name leaves his lips it’s like a hymn; your praises filling the heavens and earth.

“Okay?” You ask Jisung breathlessly.

His laugh could outshine the sun. “More than.” Having grown used to his cold, teasing demeanor, it’s almost as if you’re with a different person completely. The soft, gentle side of him blooming for the first time. Only because you were there to help it flourish. “You?”

“‘kay.” You mumble, nuzzling into his neck. “Better than, actually.”

A hum in response, more kisses to you shoulder. The party carries on beneath your feet, buzzing with excitement. Not a care for the world around them, no attention paid to what’s happening beyond their little bubbles.

Like Jisung isn’t in a perfect state of peace, the heat of your body helping ground him to reality. You’re here. You’re his. What does he need to numb?

When you turn your head, you accidentally bump into him. Tip of your head hitting his swollen cheek, the pain making him groan. You apologize profusely, cupping his face and kissing the now bluish marks left by rings.

That. That could use some numbing.

[adventuringblind]

Could you write something with max dating a MotoGP rider

Four is better then two

Max Verstappen x reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: reader takes Max for a rider on her bike

Warnings: none (for once)

Notes: written in second person. I’m expanding my horizons with these fluffy things. I’m cringing at my own writing because my imagination is to vivid. Also this is short sorry T_T

Masterlist

You had known Max liked bikes. He owns a Harley himself. It makes sense that he would be into what you do. Actually getting to race on a motorcycle around a track. Different then formula 1 sure, but still racing nonetheless.

Normally, Max hates marketing and the videos they make him do. But he’s making an exception this once since his girlfriend is taking him around the track on a bike. Not her bike because that one is for racing only, but something similar.

Max introduces you and him to the camera and sets himself behind you. A GoPro strapped to his helmet. She to having to wear pull helmets, it’s not going to get face reactions, but you have a feeling it’s going to catch a lot of swear words.

“You wanna ease into this?”

“Absolutely not.”

You rev the engine and pull out onto the track. Swerving a bit to warm yourself up. You start speeding up as soon as you hit the grid. Max’s grip around your torso tightening.

Your yelling for the fun of it as you brake late into turn one. The bike leaning farther into the ground then Max was expecting.

“You alright?”

“Simply lovely.”

You take that as a challenge. In turn two you hug the inside corner, almost hitting the chicane at an unrelenting speed.

Bikes are different then f1 cars. It’s easier to see and feel the speed because you’re more exposed even if you’re not going as fast. Something Max was not as prepared for as you continue taking the corners with amazing speed.

“I think- I don’t like this anymore.”

“Do you want me to slow down?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Your call!”

Then your speeding up into the last few corners. Max is holding on for dear life and you can’t stop laughing.

As you pull in to the pits and park the bike, Max falls to the ground with a thud.

“I love you and your sport. But I think I’ll stick to four wheel from now on.”

You lean down and kiss his forehead. “It’s okay Maxy. Next time you can drive.” You send him a wink as you walk back towards to camera.

[ozzgin]

WORST Characters x Reader

Featuring Tsukishima Hana, Kawachi Tesshou, Hisashi Amachi, the Muroto Brothers, Tsukimoto Mitsumasa and a reader in her senior year of high school.

If you’re not familiar with the characters and want to give it a try: it’s high school delinquents, the leader of a biker gang and a pair of hired thugs that got out of juvie. (Once again I’m begging y’all to read the manga so I can share my delinquent daydreams with other people ;-;)

Tsukishima Hana

Hana is such a sweet and honest boyfriend. At first he can’t even tell he’s in love with you. He really enjoys spending time with you, just like he does with his other friends, like Sakota, Renji, Tora, Takumi…Which can only mean you’re also part of the group. Right? It takes a whole intervention for him to understand it’s an entirely different feeling. The rest of the Umehoshi household members are gathered around the table and offer him examples to make it clear: he wouldn’t hold Sakota’s hand and Tora would probably be dead if he tried to kiss him on the cheek (not that he’d ever want to, anyways). So no, whatever he has with poor (Y/N) is not just friendship. It finally clicks.

He will be very shy initially. He’s barely interacted with girls before and has no idea how to handle you. Before he would just treat you like any of his friends, but as a girlfriend? He’s a fumbling mess. Once he becomes comfortable with the idea, he’s extremely affectionate. He’ll insist on holding your hand everywhere and loudly introduce you as his girlfriend to everyone. Often he’ll get an incredulous reaction of “How the hell did you pull someone like her?” and he’ll scratch the back of his head, goofy and proud. He has no idea either.

Hana can’t wait to introduce you to his grandma. You know once things get serious he’ll insist on bringing you to his village in the middle of nowhere. Unlike the time Tora accompanied him, though, he’ll be hovering all over you making sure you’re not tired or uncomfortable. The moment your breathing becomes audible from the effort he’ll pick you up and carry you the remaining way. He lives to serve you.

Kawachi Tesshou

Similar to Hana, Tesshou is incredibly awkward and wary of you at first. He’s head over heels the instant he meets you, but the idea of dating you is just too ridiculous to him. He might be the leader of a fearsome biker gang, but when it comes to you he feels like a scoundrel that has no business being around a pretty girl. So there’s two possibilities: either the other members will eventually let him know he’s an idiot and should just ask you out already, or you’ll have to confess first. He’ll stare at you in disbelief and ask you to repeat yourself several times, wondering if you’re joking or just teasing him, his blush gradually turning into a deep red.

Let us assume that no tragedy happens in this scenario. Tesshou is extra careful on his bike and he frequently takes you on rides, so he can’t afford any accidents. Now that you’re dating, he might as well be a cool boyfriend for you, eh? He likes to wait for you outside the school or part time job, resting against his motorcycle as people pass by whispering and glancing over. He wants everyone to know you’re his.

Naturally you’re now a package deal, so you often hang out with him at the junkyard belonging to TFOA. If you sneeze or mention it’s getting cold, he’ll instantly rip his jacket off and carefully place it over your shoulders. He’s thought of getting you your own custom leather jacket, but if he’s being honest, he just loves having you wear his instead. It emphasizes your small frame compared to his, and afterwards it will smell just like you. The other guys may or may not be planning his assassination, having to deal with his constant cocky grin and offhanded comments about having a cute girlfriend. Sometimes they will tease him by approaching you with “Hey (Y/N), if Tesshou’s ever being an asshole, you can always date me instead.”

Hisashi Amachi

In a way, Amachi acts a lot like a spoiled child. Things must go his way and rejection only challenges him to press further. So if he sets his eyes on you, in his mind, you either accept it now or after some convincing, but at the end of the day it will be a yes. He has money and authority, what else could you possibly want? So his initial approach will be rather cocky, mainly focusing on impressing you with his plans of ruling the city. Once his army crumbles and he loses to Hana, he finally begins to accept that you’re not with him for money or influence. He will be terribly frustrated and ashamed for losing, although this motivates him to try harder for your sake. He’s not like his father. You’re his reason to continue living no matter what.

I feel like he has the biggest potential as a yandere. He probably has significant trauma around abandonment and would immediately cling to you once in love, but in a not so obvious way. He doesn’t want you to see him as weak or needy, so instead he’ll act jealous and possessive towards anyone that could pose a threat. Hell, he might even doubt his own subordinates. He needs the occasional reassurance and secretly adores being praised by you. He wants to be the kind of man you trust with your life.

Amachi is more of a stoic boyfriend and prefers to listen to you talking, quietly going along with whatever you’re doing. While he has dropped his arrogant act, he still has some leftover tendencies, mostly in the shape of gift giving. Every now and then he’ll show up with some ridiculously expensive item he thought you’d like. Old habits die hard. Especially when they involve spoiling his Princess. I suspect he might be into slightly kinky jewelry, like dainty necklaces that need a key to be opened. He enjoys the visible, tangible proof of owning you.

Muroto Zenmei & Koumei

Now, the Arson brothers were paid for a very specific task. That doesn’t mean, however, they can’t take their time and have some fun while at it. The town has plenty of cute girls, but you really caught their attention. And they’re not very fond of sharing, but they can always figure it out as they go. What’s certain is that they won’t give up easily in their almost predatory pursuit.

Koumei is the more reserved sibling. He’s a bit cautious about parading you around, because he doesn’t want to put you in any danger. He has a lot of enemies and he worries about you becoming a potential target. That’s not to say he wouldn’t be able to protect you, he does have quite the reputation after all. He’s a bit clumsy when it comes to romance, but he does his best to spoil you. He’s always been preoccupied with fighting, so he hasn’t really considered the scenario of having a girlfriend. If he’s completely honest, he didn’t even expect you to actually accept his confession given he’s…well…the worst of the worst. Worry not, you won’t regret it. He’ll prove to you no other guy compares.

Zenmei is the cockier sibling. If he had patience or self-control, he wouldn’t have landed in juvie. He wants you and he won’t make it a secret. In fact, he’s a big fan of PDA and loves letting everyone know you’re his. Your designated seat whenever you’re with him is his lap. He’s not too worried about others harming you because either him or his twin lackeys will always have you under their watch. Additionally, who would be mad enough to mess with the girlfriend of Muroto Zenmei? Most small fries will cross to the other side of the street if they see you. And you can’t blame them, really. Zenmei can be very territorial and dominant. He can’t help it. You’re his pretty little thing.

Tsukimoto Mitsumasa

Mitsumasa has two younger sisters, so he’s probably the most relaxed when it comes to approaching you. He can be very charismatic if he wants to, and what better motivation than the girl of his dreams? I also feel like he’d be so easygoing in general. He’s one of the strongest students in Housen, yet one wouldn’t know it when he’s with you. He’s all smiles as you brush and braid his hair, occasionally blushing at your compliments. God forbid anyone messes with you, though.

His biggest hurdle are his brothers. It’s an inside joke that in terms of looks, he’s the least threatening. They didn’t expect the statement to come bite them in the ass once the blonde brings you home for dinner, introducing you as his girlfriend. His mom is over the moon and immediately begins to call you “daughter in law” (to Mitsumasa’s great embarrassment), occasionally asking you if her son didn’t somehow coerce you to date him. You reassure her awkwardly while simultaneously avoiding the burning stare of the other boys. “This bastard, landing a cute girlfriend out of nowhere” is the unified inner monologue at the table. You don’t know it yet, but poor Mitsumasa will be harshly interrogated after your departure.

Bonus points if you like playing video games or have nerdy interests. Mitsumasa spends most of his time playing, so he would absolutely love to share this hobby with you. Then he could spend his lazy days with you in his arms as he finishes quests or levels up, and you could do your own thing, whether reading, watching something or also playing a video game. As long as you’re cuddling him. He’ll be giddy all day in anticipation and can’t wait to hang out with you. Even better, he gets to brag about it the next day. He’ll yawn dramatically and apologize with a cheeky grin: “Sorry guys, I was up all night with (Y/N). Time sure flies when you’re having fun, you know~?”

[starfxkr]

if you don’t like when “dad” is used or freudian behaviors THIS IS NOT THE ASK FOR YOU also this is just the more tame stuff bc i’m still scared to say it all tehehee because it gets icky like fauxcest icky and idk if y’all vibe with that

The first time JJ realizes something isn’t right is then he angry-fucking her. He realizes he’s doing it as a correction like a father does. He’s not *mad* at her, he’s making sure she doesn’t make the mistake of let’s say… being in the bad part of town alone at night again. It makes him spiral at first; pushing her away. He can’t feel like that it’s perverse, disgusting and wrong. She’s so young and hell, he watched her GROW UP so he shouldn’t even be fucking her in the first place. But then again he watched her grow up so even though they’re in a relationship, he still feels he has to give her fatherly protection. So he does just that.Lets say she’s still in school (college- maybe she’s got a scholarship idk) he makes she’s that’s she’s on top of her school work because who else will? Who makes sure she’s eating well? (okay maybe her but who’s giving her the money to?) Who makes sure she’s going to bed on time? Brushes her teeth? Him, him, and him.

So maybe it doesnt COMPLETELY surprise him when she calls him “dad” for the first time in a sleepy, post-sex haze. But that’s when he first notices how tiny she are compared to him, how much baby fat she still has on her face. It REALLY confuses him because why does he like it? why does it make him feel in charge? why does he want more?

and so maybe while he’s fucking her he brings up her massive crush on him when she were little. Making her tell him EXACTLY what she wanted him to do. Kidnap her,and make her open up all her little holes, make her feel wanted.

One day he does it; sets her free into the woods to run so he can hunt her down. (Because JJ in every universe is insanely primal- even if hes) He definitely has the hunting knife you got him for his birthday.

“Go on sweetpea, dad’s right behind you” like a dad comforting his daughter. When he catches you he wrestles you to the mud,pressing your face into the disgusting muck, pounding into you mercilessly, flashing the dad knife in your face. “There we go, you like dad’s big dick stretching you out babydoll?” When he’s done, he carries you back to his motorcycle, helping you change into new clothes he already had in his backpack and running some water into your hair to help with the mud. When you’re home, he cradles you, putting on your favorite show and giving you sips of water, waiting for your favorite food to get there. He doesn’t coo at you but he reassures you as best he can, “you did so good for me baby. You made dad feel so good”

fucking her hard as a correction yeah...yeah because in jj's mind its different because he's not hitting her not like his dad would hit him but fundamentally he's still hurting her. and in many ways the fact that he watched her grow up is what makes him so rough, she thinks she's ready to be a "big kid" so to speak but he knows there's a lot she doesn't know and he relishes in being the one to show her the rough ways of the world because in his head there's much worse people than him. in a way he's doing her a favor.

and a really fun and interesting contradiction about reader is she's very self sufficient, she's been working since 13, shoulders lots of responsibilities and when she's not around him she really does feel older because like she has to be but jj just makes her revert into this needy, petulant little thing because for all his faults he takes care of her. the first time she slept over his house he didn't even fuck her, he just tucked her in on the the couch and said good night like there's lots of weird layers. nobody's cared about where she goes and who she's with before. nobody's made sure she ate or got some sleep or did her work but he does all of that. and jj doesn't necessarily like or dislike doing these things, but in a way he feels like he's obligated to because again there are much worse men out there than him. he may be mean and scary and taking advantage of her but he's feeding her and housing her with no real expectations? like even if they fuck thats not a requirement for what he does for her.

so yeah the lines start blurring because he blurred them from jump, he always knew she had a crush on him despite his disinterest when she was younger but again he's not a nice person so he mocks her for it, makes her tell him all the things she thought up just to feel some shame for it. again this is the luke in him coming out because things can never be easy. and she makes him sick, because he thinks he was never this needy, this desperate, this pitiful for someone to love and take care of him (he was).

jj hates and loves how small she is compared to him, how she's still got a layer of baby fat on her body, how she looks to him for guidance and direction, because all those layers she wears in front of people come off and he sees her for this mewling little pathetic thing she is and he likes having this control. so he lets her have the fantasies, he plays them out, he becomes her mean angry dad looking for an excuse to hurt her because isn't it so good to be on the other side of that for once?

[vendetta-if]

Damn the last update was so 🥺 can I ask you which is Luka's most cherished memory of little MC and little Ash when Viktor was alive and when he bacame their surrogate father?

Oohh 🥺🥺 Good question. He, of course, has a lot of cherished memories of times spent with his family and loved ones, but some stand out a bit more than the rest. Since I can’t really choose, I’ll do two for each ☺️ So, buckle up, this will be a long one.

Also, quite a number of these memories revolve around Christmas. Christmas celebrations has always been a memorable and cherished tradition for the Morozovs, especially for Viktor and Luka because it was one of the rare moments where they got to spend a lot of time with their father.

Pavel would always make sure to clear out all of his schedules weeks surrounding Christmas and New Year, and sometimes, he even cleared the whole December and first half of January. This is of course to spend more time with his wife and two sons, and to just take a break and even vacation with his family.

It’s not a surprise that Viktor and Luka end up continuing the tradition when they have their own family as well.

So, with that additional context out of the way, let’s start with when Viktor was still alive! 🥲

One of his most memorable memories from back then was MC’s fourth birthday. He didn’t really know what to gift his four-year-old nephew/niece/nibling, so he went with Cara to go scour for presents.

He had gifted Ash one of those ride-on toy motorcycles for their birthday that year and Ash loves to ride it around (It’s like a mini Ducati one 🥺). So, when he stumbled on those ride-ons vehicles toys again, he decided to go safe and buy one of the car ones for MC. He totally forgot that Viktor and MC were living in an apartment and didn’t have too much space for it 😭

The afternoon ended up being spent hanging out in one of the parks in the city with Viktor, Luka, and Cara hanging out and watching Ash and MC zooming around on their little vehicles 🥺🥺 Somehow, that little memory sticks to him to this day.

The other memory from back then that is memorable for him is actually that first Christmas where MC met their grandparents for the first time, even though the night went a little bit chaotic at the end. But to him, it was one of the few times before Viktor’s death where the whole family was reunited—even Ash and Cara were there too…

Now after Viktor’s and Cars’s death and he became MC’s and Ash’s guardian…

One of the memories he cherishes is the first time the three of them actually celebrated and enjoyed Christmas together. Before that, the mood always ended up being too sombre to really do anything festive other than having dinner together and opening gifts.

It was around 3 years after Viktor’s death (and around 2 after Cara’s), when MC and Ash seemed to finally get out of that slump period in their lives. They decided they want to celebrate Christmas cheerfully like before, even if it’s only three of them now.

So, they ended up baking—or more like trying to bake—cookies and cupcakes for Christmas and keeping it a surprise for Luka. The results were… less than stellar (although, depending in your headcanon for your MC’s interest and skill in cooking and baking, they might end up being edible at least 😆) and they made a huge mess out of the kitchen.

Luka was, of course, surprised in more ways than one and found the situation funny. The mood lightened for the rest of the night and the three of them actually ended up enjoying Christmas Eve together, watching classic Christmas movies together all night while drinking hot cocoa and eating cookies after having dinner. It was also kind of a turnaround moment for the three of them, so it is memorable to Luka.

The other memorable memories are attending Ash’s and MC’s graduation ceremonies, simply because they are milestones moments that every parent would remember for the rest of their life—Luka’s no different, although he always gets a little wistful reminiscing on that… Because it should’ve been Viktor and Cara sitting where he was sitting in those ceremonies.