#which is why I can’t tell random people I do that

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Someone asked me what my favorite genre of book is and I said “I like fantasy and romance” and when they asked things like “what are you reading now?” And mentioned a few authors it’s like, how do I explain that at the moment I’m reading textbooks and fanfiction?

[fingertipsmp3]

I am once again asking why I can only flirt when I have no intentions whatsoever of following through with the person I’m flirting with

[ryukatters]

swipe right — k. bakugo x fem! reader

✮ a/n: i remember seeing a post on here a long time ago about a character making a fake tinder profile for their gf and realizing how many people want her. (if someone knows the OG post please lmk so i can link it!) so now i present to you: bakugo falling to his knees in the middle of your apartment bedroom for the exact same reason.

✮ content/warnings: dubcon, quirkless/college! au, jealousy, possessiveness, breeding, creampie, unprotected sex, cum eating, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, biting, bkg gets a little rough with you, and bkg's also a fucking simp but when do I ever write him as being otherwise??

✮ summary: your boyfriend decides to make a fake tinder profile for you just to see how many matches you get. he comes to a realization just how many other people want what’s already his.

✮ word count: 4.2k (i'm so sick)

Bakugo can remember how this all started. In very vivid detail, actually. He remembers because Kaminari had pissed him off so much to the extent that it took him a very substantial amount of effort to refrain from bashing his friend’s face in.

It all started during the last monthly hangout amongst Bakugo and his friends— one day out of the month designated to make sure that they all had time to catch up with one another despite their busy schedules.

Everything was normal, with all of them getting more than enough of their fill of food and alcohol while idly playing video games and talking about random topics to fill in the silence in Kaminari’s living room. 

Perfectly normal, until Denki decided to open his stupid mouth, at least. 

He goes off on a tangent about a trend he saw on social media where someone makes a fake Tinder profile for their partner to see how many matches they’d get. He proceeds to tell Bakugo that he should try doing it, for “funsies,”— to which Bakugo scoffs at. 

“Aren’t you curious, Kacchan?” Kaminari smiles cheekily, wrapping an arm around his blond friend’s shoulders, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Bakugo’s becoming visibly more upset with every passing moment. 

“Your girlfriend is really pretty,” Mina chimes in, sticking her tongue out when Katsuki whips his head to glare at her. “I’m still surprised she’s with a grump like you.” 

Kaminari butts in, “I bet there’s a whole line of guys around the block just waiting for a chance to get with her. I mean, just look at her! Hell, I’d even let her peg m—”

For a moment, Bakugo swears he wants to bash Kaminari’s face into his flatscreen. And for a moment, he lets that impulsive thought win— getting up and grabbing two fistfuls of Denki’s shirt before promptly getting cut off by Kirishima.

“Alright alright,” Kirishima forcibly pries Bakugo off of the other blond, pushing him off to the side. “That’s enough, you two. Kaminari was just messing around. I’ll admit, it wasn’t a good joke, but no need to hurt the guy, okay Bakugo?” 

Kirishima knows that Kaminari wasn’t being that serious, but Kirishima can also admit that what he had to say held some ounce of truth. And Kirishima knows Bakugo well enough to see how your boyfriend tends to be rather skittish and protective with matters concerning you— which is exactly why Eijiro had to stop him before it was too late. He really didn’t feel like preparing for Denki’s funeral or helping hide Katsuki escape from a homicide charge.

And that was that…up until a few minutes ago.

Katsuki’s tried to forget that conversation. But try as he might, his mind betrays him and can’t help but wander back to what Denki said that night.

He trusts you of course, and has complete faith in your relationship. However, he’s curious to a fault, just about perhaps too curious for his own good. 

How badly could this end?

As it turns out, this whole scheme seems to be playing out very poorly. 

Dozens of photos of you— screenshotted from your social media accounts— fill Katsuki’s screen. He had to choose photos you uploaded yourself, because most of his photos of you were either too…suggestive or too domestic (and he wants to be the only one to see you in those moments).

He swipes through “your” profile one last time before clicking “done” to officially put you on the market. And just like that, Bakugo’s met with the faces of men who are nowhere near your level. He goes through the batch of profiles, scrutinizing each one he comes across. He’s (un)surprisingly selective with the ones he chooses to swipe right on— making sure that they’re at least somewhat conventionally attractive. To his surprise (or dread, rather), his phone pings right away with a notification from someone who swiped back. Another ping. A message. 

You free tonight? 

Bakugo scoffs. He looks through the guy’s profile— a picture of him at a party with his arms around some girls, another with him doing a victory pose presumably after hiking, and one with him holding a fish. He feels his mouth curl in disgust, about to give into the urge to reply and give this guy a piece of his mind, before he realizes he’s pretending to be you. He takes a deep breath, closes out of the app, and puts down his phone. 

He’s starting to regret this.

Bakugo’s phone has gone off 15 times in the last hour. Bakugo has also felt the need to strangle some stranger through the phone 15 times in the last hour. Your (read: his) profile has existed for less than 60 minutes, and you already have a whole address book of nobodies trying to link with you and get a quick fuck. 

He feels the familiar beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of his skull. He thinks he might need a drink. Why did he decide to do this again?

In hindsight, he probably should have known this is exactly how it was going to go down. 

What was that saying? Curiosity killed the cat?

Yeah.

He was never great at self-preservation in the first place. So this, the feeling of overwhelming jealousy, frustration, possessiveness brewing up a storm threatening to pour out of every single fiber of Bakugo’s being— was no surprise.

He watches as the numbers at the bottom of his screen increase steadily, before tapping on the star icon. 

‘99+ likes!’ it reads. Over 99 people who saw your profile and thought you were beautiful. Bakugo pales, and he can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of his neck. He grips his phone, knuckles turning white. Is he shaking from anger or nervousness?

Anger because all these guys think they even have the slightest chance with someone as amazing as you. Nervousness because what if you decide that they do? You wouldn’t actually leave him for one of these guys, right? Right?

None of these men would walk through hell and back for you. They don’t know how you like your coffee, the details of your skin care routine, how you like to binge watch shows and talk Katsuki’s ear off about them (not that he ever minded, of course). They don’t know you, not like he does. Katsuki looks at you like you hung the moon. In fact, he’s pretty convinced that you did. Everything good in his life— the warmth, the color, the joy,— is encompassed by you. He’d be damned if he lets some greasy little nobody take that from him. Because the moment Bakugo fell in love with you, you became a part of him— inextricably and indefinitely. Loving you has become so intrinsic to him, that even the mere thought of another person loving you or looking at you the same way he does has him going insane. Not that anyone could love you like he did, though. That thought brings him some comfort, but not for long. 

One last notification he sees sends him spiraling. Bakugo swears that he can see red. That’s when he deletes the app, and throws his poor phone in some random corner of the living room, which is markedly one of the smarter choices he’s made as of late. He marches to your bedroom with a fire burning in his chest. 

He stops short of the door and finds you sitting at the edge of your shared bed, fresh out of the shower. You’re applying lotion, and he watches the cream absorb into your skin wordlessly, in awe at how overwhelmingly beautiful you manage to look in the most prosaic of tasks. For a second, he almost forgets the reason he was upset in the first place.  

Your hair is still damp, water droplets accumulating at the tips, and Katsuki feels his mouth run dry the minute he watches a stray bead fall and make its way down your neck and stop perfectly in the dip of your collarbone. Your very existence is forever etched into his heart, every inch of you carved into his memory, but even still he can never get tired of looking at you. At every angle, in every lighting, he needs to see you in it. You could call him obsessed, but he’d simply laugh and agree, because what’s so wrong with that? Especially if it’s you. 

You’re one to be studied— to be adored, Katsuki thinks, to the greatest capacity. It’s what you deserve. And what better person for that task to fall upon than him?

He finds himself naturally gravitating towards you, his finger tracing the same exact path the water had carved just moments before, wordlessly. You try to pay no mind, but it’s difficult as you realize just how close Bakugo was and how your towel barely manages to cover up your most intimate parts. One wrong move and you’d be exposed. With how things were playing out, and the predatory glint in the blond’s eyes, you don’t think your boyfriend would be too perturbed with your current predicament. 

Katsuki presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before he crouches down. Suddenly, you’re at eye level with one another, his hot breath tickling your lips. You think for a moment he’s going to kiss you so you lean forward, lips waiting. But he merely grazes them before he sucks a deep bruise into the juncture of your neck, biting slightly. 

You’re barely given any time to react before he’s grabbing the hand that’s securing your towel and ripping it away, the offending garment falling off your body. Your flesh prickles with goosebumps as its exposed to the sudden chill.  It’s quickly replaced by the heat of Bakugo’s body as he pushes you lightly, your back hitting the mattress. He crawls on top of you, muscular thighs on either side of your hips, your head placed conveniently between his forearms. He’s trapped you, a nonverbal challenge for you to try and escape. 

You’re a work of art, he thinks, but much more valuable than any pièce de résistance framed in any museum. 

Beautiful, yes, but far too blank for his liking. He wants to ruin you, make you his own personal magnum opus. And so he does. 

He presses a clothed knee against your bare cunt, pressing firmly. His lips continue their assault on your neck, leaving angry purpling bruises in their wake. Rough hands find your breast, and you moan in surprise when he gives both of them a harsh squeeze as he shoves his tongue into your mouth. Katsuki kisses you like a man dying of thirst, hungry for everything you can offer him and more. It’s all too much already, the way he’s kissing you has your mind reeling, and you have to turn your head away for a moment to catch your breath. Katsuki thinks it’s a moment too long without you, so he coaxes you into locking lips with him once more. A wave of mischievousness washes over you, prompting you to take your boyfriend’s lower lip in between your teeth, biting down lightly. 

You feel his breath hitch, before he lets out a low groan as he grinds his clothed dick against your bare wetness. He returns the favor, sucking on your bottom lip before letting it go with a wet pop. He pulls back with a lazy smirk, his lips pursing together to scatter messy kisses down the base of your throat and down your chest, alternating between sucking and biting at the flesh. 

He gives you a good once-over, scanning every surface, committing them to memory. You feel the need to curl into yourself with how intensely those vermillion eyes are piercing into you, memorizing every single curve, scar, freckle like he’s done time and time again. 

He drops down to his knees, broad shoulders bullying their way in between your legs, forcibly prying them open. He grips your hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh, and drags you down the mattress until your legs are dangling off the bed.

“Jesus, Kats, be more gentle.”

“Shhh. I know you like it when I’m not gentle,” he chuckles. As if to prove a point, he pulls you down even further, giving a harsh bite to your inner thigh. He smiles deviously when you yelp. You try to pull at his hair but his reflexes are too quick, pinning both of your wrists down on either side of you easily. “Besides, this is the perfect height for me to eat you out, dontcha think baby?” 

You want to chastise him for being so crass, so Katsuki, but the words die on the tip of your tongue the minute he gives a sweet, loving kiss to your clit, sucking lightly. 

“You’re mine. I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this except for me.” 

You’re not entirely sure what brought this on, but you find it hard to complain when Bakugo drags his tongue from your throbbing clit to inside your pussy, drinking everything you have to offer. 

Your hands automatically try to find purchase in his blond locks, struggling against the vice grip Katsuki has on your wrists. He decides to take pity on you, loosening his hold so you can slip your hands into his hair, moaning appreciatively when he feels you tug. He rewards you by flicking his tongue on your clit over and over again, just the way you like it. He does it until your moans begin to pitch higher and higher, the same way that they do when you’re close. He doesn’t stop his ministrations even after you cum, riding out your orgasm until your thighs are shaking from overstimulation. He pulls away from you with a loud pop, taking in the sight before him. 

He runs a hand up and down your thigh soothingly. “So fucked out already and we’re barely getting started, baby.”

Your mind is barely processing his words before you feel Katsuki’s erection brush against your stomach, his clothing haphazardly discarded on the floor. He taps the head of his dick against your clit to tease you, a feeling of satisfaction swelling when you cry out from under him.  

He watches in fascination as strings of your arousal cling to him. He positions his length at your entrance, locking eyes with you as you hold your breath in anticipation. Katsuki likes you like this. Needy for him. 

 “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” He slips into you with a stuttered groan. 

Katsuki’s always been big. You never get used to the initial stretch, no matter how many times you two fuck. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sliding in with ease from the slick of your last orgasm. It easily coats his cock as he gives a few experimental thrusts. He groans in rapture. How do you manage to feel so good every time? It’s enough to drive him insane. Perhaps he already is. 

“So fucking perfect, no wonder why all those losers want you.” He mutters out the last part, and you’re not sure if you caught that right. 

“What?” He chooses not to respond, and you aren’t given the opportunity to think any further before your legs are thrown over his shoulders, Katsuki’s weight effectively pinning you in place. The stretch knocks all the wind out of your lungs, and all you can do is cling to Katsuki, nails leaving red, angry lines on his well-defined back.

He wastes no time before he starts drilling into you, hips slotting in between your legs perfectly. The position has him pressed against your clit, and your entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze, with Katsuki holding both the power to have it burn even brighter and the ability to extinguish it. And you’re almost there, you can feel your soul slowly ascending, your room filled with hymns of pleasure, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, threatening to unravel along with your sanity. Katsuki can feel it too— the way you’re squeezing him tighter, how your gasps and moans have climbed just a note higher, how absolutely ruined you look, how he’s responsible for your current state. Which is exactly why he wants to push it even further, he wants to see how much you’ll break for him— and only him. 

Katsuki cuts you off right before you can reach your peak, pulling out but making sure just his tip is inserted. You come to and take a look at your lover and marvel at the sight. He has a crazed look in his eyes. The way he smirks is absolutely wicked. 

You feel distraught— having been so close but having it ripped away from you. You give your boyfriend a petulant pout.

“Katsuki,” you whine, slapping a hand against his sweaty chest, “Why’d you stop? I was so close!”

“Because I didn’t want you to cum yet,” he says simply. “You’ll be good for me, yeah? I’ll give my baby what she deserves, as long as she’s good.” 

You roll your eyes, huffing. That won’t do for him.

As much as he loves seeing you indulge, he feels a need to punish you— at least a little bit to even begin to atone for being the wicked temptress you are. 

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” Bakugo growls, gripping your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, causing your lips to purse slightly. “I said be good, okay? Wanna take my time with you.” 

There’s a moment of respite, until you sigh in defeat, knowing better than to argue with him lest you wanted to dig your own grave. “‘Kay, ‘ki.”

He flashes you a smile. Obedient, just how he likes you. “Good girl.”

Katsuki draws his hips back, thrusting just enough to fuck his tip into you. He’s teasing. The amount of willpower on his end it takes not to cum is nauseating. 

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” he rasps, one hand finding their way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make your head spin. Your hands reflexively grab his wrist. 

All you can manage is a fucked out moan. Katsuki has to resist the urge to coo, about how he’s managed to turn you into a cockdrunk mess in such a short matter of time. The wave of possessiveness that’s been gnawing at the depths of his soul begins to seep out, and he’s reminded of the reason why the two of you are in this position in the first place. 

He gives your throat another squeeze and a rough slap to your clit. “C’mon princess, answer me. Say it.” He slowly adds more and more pressure until your ears grow hot and air feels like a precious commodity. 

“I-i’m pretty,” you manage to gasp out, tears spilling from your lash line as you begin to lose yourself between the space of pleasure and pain. 

Good. Always so pliant for him.

“That’s right, baby,” he concedes. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He punctuates the last word with a deep thrust, right against that spongy spot that feels so good. You’re so sensitive that it’s enough to send you spiraling into your second orgasm, walls spasming around him uncontrollably. 

Katsuki stills, staving off his own release with all the restraint he can summon. He silently thanks whatever divine forces are out there that he didn’t cum the minute he felt the first clench of your orgasm. 

He grits his teeth as he wills himself to move, trying not to get lost in the wetness that envelops him. You’re babbling now, senseless moans filling Katsuki’s ears like a sweet melody. 

“Kats, please, I’m too sensitive—” You’re shaking now, muscles trembling with every thrust. 

“But I’m not done with you yet,” he says simply, drawing his hips back with a particularly rough thrust. You choke back whatever you were going to say with a loud cry. “What’s your color, baby?”

You take a moment to answer, brain trying to comprehend the words just uttered to you. You look at Katsuki firmly, “Green.”

“Atta girl,” he praises, the drive of his hips beginning to shallow. He’s close, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. But for you, he tries. “You’re mine, right?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, shivering as goosebumps dance across your skin. 

“Say it,” Katsuki pleads, thrusts growing sloppy by the second. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours, ‘ki.” 

With that, Katsuki’s fate is sealed. He’s left groaning as a flash of pleasure shakes his very soul, filling you up with so much cum that it dribbles onto the mattress even while he’s still inside you. You follow suit, an embarrassingly obscene rhythm of squelching noises fill the silence as you spasm around his dick. He collapses on top of you, but he’s still coherent enough to not dump all his weight on you. 

Your labored breaths fill the room as the two of you come to. Katsuki pulls out of you with a wince, still a bit sensitive. He gives you a peck on the lips before he drags himself down, settling in between your legs much like he was earlier. 

You tense up, “Kats, wait—”

Any and all protests cease the moment Bakugo works his tongue inside of you, slurping lewdly as he drags out the mixture of your cum and his, swallowing. He tries not to stimulate your puffy clit in an attempt to be merciful, but you still feel yourself steadily climbing to what would be your fourth orgasm this session. While the past three have been intense and drowning, this one comes to you in waves, dull pleasure invading your senses as Katsuki continues to eat you out to clean you up. 

He pulls away when you finish, your slick and his saliva coating his chin before he wipes it off on the back of his hand. You stare at his half-hard erection with a half concerned, half quizzical look. “Do you…” you lick your lips, “need help with that? I’m a little sensitive down there  but I could use my mout—”

“Nah, I’m good babe,” he says earnestly, flashing you a smile that he only ever shows around you. “I’ll be back.” With that, your boyfriend leaves the room only to come back with a bottle of water. 

“Drink.” You comply, finishing half the bottle graciously before handing it to him. He downs the rest before he settles next to you on the bed, laying on his side. You mirror him, shifting your body so that you’re both facing each other. 

Katsuki reaches out, finger idly tracing random shapes and lines onto the bare skin on your hip. He has a pensive look on his face, one that he usually doesn’t hold after stolen moments like this; it’s an expression he wears when he’s in deep thought. 

“Baby,” you call out. His eyes snap to yours, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“Whatcha thinking about?” You watch as a hesitant look flashes across your boyfriend’s face before he shakes his head.

“S’nothin’. Just thinkin’ about us two.” He speaks lightly. It’s always been difficult for him to voice his inner thoughts and feelings, so he tends to beat around the bush. You’ve learned that if you ever want something out of him, you’d have to pry a little. Katsuki always indulges you though. 

“What about us?”

“Do you- do you think you’ll ever get tired of this?” He repeats himself, clearing his throat. The question is followed by a weaker, “...of me?”

You think it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever asked, because the answer should be obvious. “I’d never get tired of you, Katsuki. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replies automatically, “but if I ever do anything that upsets you, or if I get too much for you, or if I—” he’s rambling now. Yes, it’s difficult for Katsuki to talk about his feelings, but once you manage to get him to open up, all the walls of his self-made fortress come crashing down and it’s up to you to pick up the pieces. 

“Baby,” you giggle, pressing a kiss to his lips, cupping his sharp jaw with one hand. “Look at me.” And he does— ruby eyes meeting yours. “I love you because you’re you. And I choose to be with you everyday. It’s not always gonna be perfect, no relationship is. But I know that I will always wake up and choose you.” 

You can see the anxiety melt away from Katsuki’s body, shoulders slumping as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Love you too, sap,” is all he says before he’s pulling you against his chest, squeezing you into a bearhug. You two stay that way until both of you are lulled to sleep. 

You’re laying in bed with Katsuki, both of you dozing off when you hear a slight buzz from your phone on the nightstand. You squint as you try to read the notification, and make out that it’s from your friend.

Denki Kaminari: So did it work?

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing, giving a quick glance over your shoulder to check on your boyfriend— fast asleep. You turn back to your phone, your thumbs making quick work at your keyboard. 

You: Just like I said it would. Thanks Denki :)

Writing belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not share my work on Tiktok.

[tiza0925]

okok hear me out but Akaashi dating reader and she has a spit kink 👉🏻👈🏻 you don't have to write anything about it but i would love to hear about it from you! (i love your works sm 💗)

…i think you’ve just woken something inside me, anon 🫠

Intimate | 18+

Warnings/Tags: nsfw, afab/female!reader, praise kink, jealous!reader, dom!Akaashi, raw sex, multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, squirting, pussy slapping, petnames, little bit of choking, overstimulation, creampie, spit kink ♡ SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You’re not a jealous person, you swear.

Your relationship with Akaashi is the most secure relationship you’ve ever been in—not once has he ever given you a reason to doubt him. 

To not trust him. 

He’s shown you nothing but respect, kindness—god, so much love and patience—ever since you two started dating. 

But—

Your jaw ticks as you watch a random girl get a little too close to him—watching how she laughs a little too much and looks at him with stars in her eyes. 

You can’t blame her, though—you look at him the same way—he’s good-looking and deserves to be appreciated for that. 

But that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t get to you whenever you see other people do it. 

Especially this particular girl who seems to refuse to leave his side ever since you two arrived at Kuroo’s house party. 

Because apparently—she’s close with Bokuto. 

Which means she knows Akaashi. 

But you barely hear Akaashi talk about her so it’s either he doesn’t see her as close as she thinks they are—

Or he’s hiding something from you. 

But that would be ridiculous—it’s Akaashi. 

He wouldn’t.

Right? 

You take a sip from your drink, then you turn to the person who’s currently talking to you—you think her name is Yachi—and you give her a slightly apologetic look as you walk away and straight towards him. 

And the girl that’s seemingly too giddy with whatever Akaashi is saying. 

It’s why you come up to his side with a small smile at the other girl, your arms around his waist, and Akaashi stops mid-sentence to look at you with a slightly concerned look—his one eyebrow raised as he asks in a soft murmur, “You okay?” 

You hum, a small smile threatens to pull at your mouth as he wraps one arm around you, holding you closer, and you nod. “Just tired.” 

He gives your waist a small squeeze, his voice a soft rumble against you. “Wanna go home then?” 

You blink up at him, then you quickly glance at the girl that was talking to him—and you feel a slight bud of satisfaction in your chest when you notice how annoyed she looks—and you nod, blinking up at him all sweetly. “Please?”

You end up in the passenger seat of his car a few moments later—looking out the window—as he drives you two home.

It’s quiet—comfortably so—as you watch light posts and buildings until—

“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” 

You hear him ask that, his voice calm and quiet, and your eyes widen with surprise as your heart flips. 

You blink, turning to look at him—his eyes remaining on the road ahead—and you frown. “What?” 

“Suddenly wanting to go home and hugging me like that,” Akaashi then turns his head a little to give you a look like he knows something. “What was that about?” 

Oh. 

Was it that obvious how you felt? 

You blink. 

Silent. 

Then you swallow hard, playing dumb as you look away, murmuring, “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

But then you hear him let loose a low, caustic laugh—as if he doesn’t believe you—and you feel his hand, heavy and large on your thigh, with the heat seeping through your pants and skin, as he gives it a small squeeze. “Alright.” 

It’s how you end up with your face stuffed into a pillow, back arched, and ass out the moment you two arrive back home—

“Oh fuck—”

And you’re cumming around a thick cock with your moan getting muffled into the cushion. 

“Look how well you take me,” His voice comes out a low drawl, sounding so nonchalant as if he isn’t fucking you deep into your cunt with a harsh grip around your waist—holding you in place as Akaashi makes you take all of him with your orgasm throbbing through you. 

Your mind goes numb, and you whine when he drags his dick against your G-spot, overstimulating you. 

“Keiji—fuck—please—”

But then he pulls out—leaving you empty and pulsing around nothing—causing a trickle of your juice to leak out, and you let out a sudden cry when Akaashi leaves a harsh slap against your wet pussy with his hand. 

“Turn around.” 

Fuck. 

You listen almost immediately—moving to lay on your back, breathing heavily, and Akaashi smiles down at you from the bridge of his nose, admiring you for just a moment—

Then he’s hooking your legs over his shoulder—and your eyes grow wide when you feel the head of his cock slide over your drooling pussy, bumping your clit that has your head going dizzy, and then—

“Do you think she’d be able to take me as well as you do?”

Then he starts to ask that—in that taunting, calm voice of his—and your cheeks grow hot at the mere mention of that girl, jealousy pricking the edges of your vision and—

You whimper when he pushes his cock back inside you, filling you and making you feel so full as he rolls his hips against yours, building that sweet buzzing ache in your pussy again. 

Akaashi watches the way your cunt swallows him so perfectly—his girth opening you up as you cream all over him—and he wets his lips, his smirk turning lecherous. “You think she’d look this pretty around my cock too, baby?”

He’s not blind.

He can pick up on the small signs of jealousy from you with just a small look, word—even the way you act.

He’s observant—and he clearly didn’t miss the way you were eyeing that girl from earlier.

You suck in a large breath, feeling him in your damn throat as he fucks you languidly, and your voice is breathy when you bite out a response. “Why don’t you go and find out for yourself then.” 

Akaashi leans down and god—you sob out a moan when he nearly bends you in half, shoving his dick so deep into you that your entire body goes limp. 

You’re practically shaking as his lips hover over yours, and his eyes—all half-lidded as he observes you—grow alight with something darker and amused as he hums lowly. “I don’t think I will.” 

He pulls out, the tip of his dick catching your hole, then he immediately thrusts back in with one, harsh slap of his skin against yours—making you gasp as your juices gush out. “Nobody else can get messy like you do, baby.” 

His smirk comes slow and syrupy, his hooded eyes observing you—how your eyes are glossy with tears threatening to spill out—and he goes to pull on your lower lip with his mouth, kissing you so achingly soft despite the harsh fucking. “Nobody else feels this tight around me.” 

You moan against him, your arms numbly wrapping around his neck as you take his cock pushing in and out of you—your pussy swallowing him whole like it needs his dick in there. 

It’s so fucking needy that even when you feel him digging into your lungs with his cock—you still want more of him, that swelling ache in your clit just begging for it.

And god—he gives it to you. 

He fucks you with one hand coming to thumb your sensitive clit—rubbing it in slow circles with your juices coating it until you’re clenching around his cock, squeezing him and throbbing as you cum for a second time. 

“Shit,” Akaashi groans, driving into you as his head gets foggy with lust, and heat overwhelms him as you make a mess on you both—clear liquid squirting out of your poor little pussy with every rock of his hips, and tears finally spill down your cheeks with oversensitivity. 

“Don’t cry, angel,” Akaashi soothes you, his voice throaty and heavy, and his hand that was on your clit comes up to wipe your tears—spreading your fluids all over your face and getting you dirty as he calmly shushes you. “You asked for this.” 

You know. 

You just didn’t anticipate how intense Akaashi will be to make sure you know that you were being irrational for feeling jealous—to fuck you until you felt all loose and dumb from his dick that you can’t do or say anything but whimper and cry for him. 

God—

You suck in small, gasping breaths as he slides his hand down until he’s rolling his thumb over your bottom lip, and—

And then his pupils grow wide and dark, there’s a small tick at the side of his lips that looks carnal, and your heart leaps into your throat as he forces your mouth open as he presses down onto your lip—your heart thundering in your ears as you watch with shiny eyes, unsure what he plans to do until—

Until he also opens his mouth as well, and your mind grows heady with submission with your tongue out for him, your pussy clenching him so fucking tight as he lets a small, pearly glob of his saliva string down onto your tongue. 

And fuck—he lets out a low groan of approval, making your chest swell at how satisfied he looks as you please him. 

“Swallow.” His voice is so deceptively soft.

But you listen and swallow. 

With no hesitation. 

And it should feel gross with him spitting in your mouth like that—making you feel like some whore under him—

But instead—it does things to you. 

It makes things so much more fucking intimate. 

You keep eye contact with him as your throat bobs with an obedient swallow, your body moving with every thrust of him inside you, and Akaashi can’t help but lean down to kiss you so deeply that you shudder against him—

“Such a good girl for me—shit,” His hand comes to the front of your neck, his calloused fingers wrapping around it and giving it a little squeeze, making you moan as you sloppily kiss him back, your vision growing blurry. 

Then he leans back, hand still on your throat, and his chest rise and falls as he continues to fuck your abused pussy, your fluids making a mess, and he turns his head to brush his lips against your calf. 

“I want you to cum on my cock again, love, you do it so well for me.”

Then he brings his other hand to press on your lower stomach, making you keen with a wet moan—and you feel so fucked out and dumb in the head as another orgasm steadily pulses through you. 

“And say my name when you do, love,” Akaashi breathes out lowly, his dick in your guts as he pushes his hand down a little more, “Because nobody else gets to do that except you.” 

More clear liquid gushes out of you, spraying and squirting all over him as your legs shake with another orgasm for that night—his name on your tongue, making his head spin as he fucks you through it. 

And then he’s spurting out thick loads of his hot cum into your sore pussy, shoving it further into you with every push of his cock inside your walls—making sure you know that only you get to be marked like this by him. 

end.

Masterpost

[celaenaeiln]

JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.

Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.

JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?

Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.

JL: Did something happen?

Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.

JL: ???

48 hours earlier

Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.

Bruce: …hmrgh

Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.

Bruce: ……hmrgh

Dick: Damian always looks up to you

Bruce: *side eyes*

Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.

Bruce: ….hmrgh

Dick: And-

1 hour later

Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.

Bruce:

Dick:

Bruce: ……...hmrgh

Dick: I’m waiting.

Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*

Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.

Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-

*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.

[navybrat817]

How often does Dad!Bucky get hit on when he's in the baby aisle grabbing diapers?

A lot, Cia! And you get to see it one day.

The Dad Diaries: Diaper Aisle

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You witness a woman flirting with Bucky, but you don't react the way you expect. Word Count: Almost 1.2k Warnings: Fluff, flirting, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), parenthood, random woman thirsty for Bucky (we get it), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?). A/N: Next part of The Dad Diaries and from your perspective. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky doesn’t like to make a big deal out of people flirting with him. For starters, he’s a married man and has made it clear that he has no intention of ever stepping out on you. He would never. You are his wife and soulmate, the love of his life, and the mother of his child. You’re all he needs.

Second, he’s unassuming. You tell him regularly how handsome he is, but he isn’t arrogant about his looks and doesn’t think every woman who looks his way has the intention of hitting on him. He may give a polite smile or nod if he catches someone staring, but will immediately divert his attention back to the task at hand, such as getting those diapers for Jamie.

Fatherhood is sexy on him.

“Your Dada is amazing,” you say to Jamie as you wait beside your cart for Bucky to grab the box.

You smile to yourself when a woman nearly runs her cart into the shelving when Bucky walks past. Not that you blame her for staring. With his luscious locks flowing free, his worn jean jacket fitting like it was made for him, and the sweatpants leaving little to the imagination, you would’ve gawked at him, too.

Which you did earlier and were now.

“Excuse me,” the woman calls out loudly, making Bucky pause as he puts the box under his arm. “So sorry to bother you, but would you mind grabbing a jar for me off the top shelf? I would really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, giving you a small smile from across the aisle as he goes to help the woman.

You wait patiently as the lady thanks him with a grin. You get why she wants Bucky close by. Beyond his overall gorgeousness and kindness, he displays a responsible side of himself when he walks through the baby aisle. He never carries himself in a way that says he’s annoyed or inconvenienced by being there. Carefully selecting the diapers and anything else needed shows how attentive he is. And responsible.

You understand the appeal.

Though, you do wish the lady would stop undressing your husband with her eyes. You practically hear her inhale when he’s close enough. He does smell good, but does she have to step into his space?

“This one?” Bucky asks.

The woman has to blink a few times before she responds. “Oh, sorry. The one next to it. You really are too kind,” she answers, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe as he reaches over for another jar. You have to bite the inside of your cheek when she takes it from his hand. “It’s too bad you can’t help me bring this stuff in when I get home.”

Yeah, it is too bad.

Clearing his throat, Bucky nods in your direction. “Well, my son might miss me if I’m away for too long. And I’ll miss him and my wife.”

The woman goes rigid as she looks your way. “Your wife?”

Bucky smiles from ear to ear when you wave. “Yeah, my wife,” he proudly states, making your heart skip a beat.

Any jealousy or bad feeling you have slips away when you see some of the light leave the woman’s eyes and the sag in her shoulders. It’s almost like seeing her in a different light because you know how you’ve felt since giving birth. At times, you feel less attractive than normal, that your body won’t be the way it used to be. You wonder if Bucky still wants you.

And you want to be seen.

While you don’t know her story, you understand the need to feel wanted and desired. It doesn’t go away when you become a mother. You don’t even know if she is a mother or if she’s in the aisle shopping for a sister, friend, or someone else. Maybe her partner isn’t giving her the attention she needs. Maybe she isn’t with anyone.

Maybe she just needed a win today.

“Take care,” Bucky says politely before he walks toward you, leaving the woman alone to stare after him. “Anything else we need?” He asks once he puts the diapers on the bottom of the cart, giving Jamie a small tickle and making all three of you smile.

“I think we’re good,” you say, glancing down the aisle. You could grab Bucky’s hand and stake your claim as the woman makes eye contact with you, but you give her a small nod and a sympathetic smile instead before you push the cart away. “That was nice of you to help her,” you say once you’re out of sight.

Bucky raises an eyebrow as he glances your way. “I don’t usually say this outright, but I’m pretty sure she was hitting on me.”

“Oh, she was,” you agree.

“Does that bother you?” He asks, brushing a kiss to your temple and making your heart race.

You shake your head as you think about it. “It did at first because it’s only natural to feel that way, but it went away pretty quickly. I have no reason to feel jealous or defensive. If it would’ve been bad or crossed a line, I would’ve stepped in. But you proudly proclaimed that I’m your wife and she backed off right away. And I know you’re coming home with Jamie and I, so why would I let it bother me?” you explain, spotting something soft in his gaze.

Like he’s amazed by you.

“That makes sense,” he says.

“I can only hope that someone like you comes along for her,” you add, your heart going out to the stranger.

The blue of Bucky’s eyes shine a bit brighter when you catch his gaze. “I love you,” he says so tenderly that you feel butterflies in your stomach and heart.

“I love you, too,” you promise before you nudge him. “And you know what? I don’t fault her at all. You know what wearing those pants does to people. It’s like some sort of sexy magic.”

His nose crinkles as he laughs, the sound making a few turn their heads. Once again, you don’t blame them for gawking. “Did you just say ‘sexy magic’ in front of our son? Is that why you like these pants?”

“Oh, yeah. You put a spell on me,” you smirk before you smile gently at your son. “And I’m very lucky for that because now I have you.”

You don’t know it yet, but Bucky will write in his diary to Jamie about how you handled yourself today. How you could’ve stormed over and grabbed him or made a snide comment to the woman, but you didn’t. And that if you felt jealous, even for a moment, you didn’t let it cloud your judgement. You know when to observe and when you need to step in. You know when to lead with your heart.

Just one of the many reasons Bucky Barnes considers himself lucky to call you his wife and the mother of his child.

And no matter how many times he gets hit on in the diaper aisle, he’ll always come home to you.

I adore this family. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[foreveralbon]

Hey, could you write one where y/n is in a long distance relationship with Logan Sargeant. Like when it’s off season she still is in a different country and she decides to surprise him at a Grand Prix and he has no clue but the team helps her

All fluff please ❤️

thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻

back in his arms - ls2

the side of your bed that is normally warmed by logan’s body is occupied by the still figures of your cat rupert and his dog coco. rupert’s small head is resting on your stomach as you stroke your finger up and down his nose, and coco is curled up at your feet.

your phone brightens up your dark bedroom and logan is watching you fondly from the other side of the tiny screen.

“show me rupert,” he demands, propping his phone up so he can watch you at a normal angle.

“what? have you gotten sick of my face or something?” you accuse him with a laugh.

but you still tilt the screen to show logan, who coos at the sight of your cat. rupert meows before turning his body so that he faces away from you.

“now look what you did, you scared him off!”

he just laughs and insists that it was you. the screen is so bright that you squint when it glares in your eyes, and logan tells you to turn the light on and your brightness down before you hurt your eyes.

“i can’t be bothered to.”

he just rolls his eyes, feigning dismissal though he already knew what your response would be. there’s something about the fact that he’s trying to recreate everyday life with you over the phone - teasing comments, cuddles in bed, bullying your pets, random conversations at the most random times. it has you feeling giddy inside, and it’s more than enough to keep you satisfied for now. at least until the next time you see him, which, if things go your way, won’t be too far long.

“you’re wearing my jumper,” he notes. “are you cold?”

“no. why so many questions today?”

“just wanna look after you. it’s the next best thing i can do considering i’m not with you.”

and it quite probably is the next best thing he can do - he’s in las vegas, with drunk people stumbling down sidewalks, with men who’ve gambled big and loss hard and with led billboards blinding his sight everywhere he goes, while you lay at home in bed, smothering yourself in every single thing of his you can find - his clothes, his blanket, his cologne.

you’re wearing his hoodie now, sleeves tugged down to your fingers and hoodie strings tied to below your chin. you look warm and cozy and logan wants nothing more than to be with you in that moment.

“i know, lo. i want you here more than anything too.”

“i wish you could’ve come with me.” he hasn’t stopped saying that since he first called you half an hour ago, eyes drooped with sleep and lips pouted as he tried to imagine you beside him.

i know, is all you say. and seeing as how there’s an unread message from alex albon asking you what time your flight lands in nevada, and your suitcase is sitting in the corner of your room, packed full of clothes and necessities for both you and your boyfriend, it’d be quite embarrassing for you if you rocked up to quali to surprise your boyfriend only for him to not want you there.

truthfully, the only reason you’re wearing his hoodie is to hide the plane clothes that you wear beneath - though, you’re not too sure why he hasn’t questioned the hoodie despite the fact he knows it’s hot out.

“i’ll be there for abu dhabi,” you promise, and he nods before blowing a kiss goodbye through the screen.

your room is shrouded in darkness when he hangs up - you really should open up the blinds or turn the lights on, but the thought is pushed to the back of your mind by the bubbling anticipation in your stomach at the idea of seeing logan before the end of the day.

—

your flight had been delayed. one hour, two hours, three hours and your nails would have started bleeding if it had been delayed an hour extra.

you’d planned it in your head - if the flight leaves at three, you get there by seven and have some time to yourself before going to track and surprising logan. that was the one thing that didn’t go your way.

now, it’s 10:30pm and you’re rushing your way through the paddocks, praying that you make it to catch a glimpse of logan driving.

lily’s trailing behind you, hand gripped tightly in yours so as not to lose you. she’d picked you up from the hotel, freshly ironed clothes in hand because she’d known you wouldn’t have time to prepare your own yourself. you arrive in the williams garage with 15 minutes to spare.

james greets you with a hug before doing the same to lily, and you move to stand behind him. someone comes up to you both, offering you a headset, and almost immediately, logan’s voice comes flooding in. his familiar drawl, though strained with effort from racing, has your blood pumping. you’re here, he’s here, and you’re only minutes away from being back in his arms.

“how are we doing?”

“good,” james replies. “if you push, you can set a much faster lap time.”

there’s a bite of determination in logan’s tone when he replies with a firm “will do” and you just know he’s about to try his hardest. your eyes follow the little blue dot on the screen that’s supposed to be him and there’s so much happening on the screens that you don’t know what to focus on.

but it’s when he sets a lap time that puts him in p7 - and with alex, both williams in the third row for the race - that sets your blood alight, celebrations erupting from the whole garage. lily cheers for both alex and logan and pulls you in for another hug.

“great job, everyone,” logan says, voice crackly over the radio one last time as he pulls into the pit lane. “that was for my girl, i hope she was watching.”

you can’t help the blush that creeps up your cheeks, hiding from the gaze of every proud team member who watches you in place of your boyfriend.

logan’s car comes rolling into the garage and you step into view when he jumps out. it takes a moment for him to go around, accepting congratulations, and well done’s, and good luck’s from the team. it’s only when he turns around to place his helmet on the closest table that he spots you, a proud smile stretching your face and his jacket hung over your shoulder to shield you from the cold las vegas air.

he freezes. he raises his hand, half-pointing to you, like he’s asking if everyone else can see you too. alex just laughs and pushes him forward.

logan’s hands come up to squish your cheeks, jaw dropped in disbelief as his eyes scour your face as though to check that you’re really real. “you came here and surprised me. you were at home this morning.”

“i did. i was.”

he falters over his words, kissing you between each stutter. around you, everyone goes from watching you to busying themselves, giving you as much privacy as possible in a crowded room. “how?”

“alex and lily coordinated flights and timing, james hooked me up with a hotel room. you have to thank them.”

“i will,” he nods. “you’re here.”

“i am,” you whisper. he holds your gaze now, sky blue eyes spilling every untold i love you, i miss you, i’m never leaving you again in yours. “you did so well, logan. i’m so proud of you.”

his face splits into a bright grin. “it’s ‘cause you’re here, now. and i talked to you earlier. kinda like you’re my lucky charm.”

“i like the sound of that.”

“don’t ever let me be alone again, okay?”

“i promise.”

author’s note: sped through that second half so i could have it out in time to manifest a good quali for logan

@namgification @queen-aria-things @lipringlrh let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

[dumplingsjinson]

List of random dialogue prompts (pt. 3)

“Truth be told? I miss the times — the me — before I fell in love with you.” 

“You know, I can see myself in, on top of, or under you. What do you say?” “I can see you buried six feet under my very feet if you don’t stop joking about this shit with me.” 

“Was there a point when you fell out of love with me?” “There was a point when I fell in love with you, but never out.”

“When did you fall out of love with me?” “That’s the thing: I never fell out of love with you. You’re the one who fell out of love with me.”

“Right person, wrong time… What if this is the right time? We’re just the wrong people for each other.”

“You have me wrapped around your fingers. Crazy part is, I don’t mind it.” 

“Don’t forget this: I made you. I can easily break you if I wanted to.” 

“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed.” 

“Don’t give me that look.”

“You okay?” “No. I need hugs. From you. I need you to hug me.” 

“I just wanna fucking get over you so I can be okay again.” 

“Stop trying to remind me that you’re still in my life. I’m trying to not think about you, for God’s sake.”

“I wanna kiss you so badly right now but we’re in public and I know you hate public display of affection—“ “I’ll allow you to do it this time.” “Wait… Really?” 

“I make shitty decisions and you’re a testament to that matter.”

“I have things to do, and most of them include me trying not to think about you.”

“I’ve never cried because of someone, you know? I didn’t have anyone to cry over. You’re the first, and you’ll also be the last, or so God help me through this embarrassment.” 

“Breaking up with me does not mean you had to kick me off your Spotify playlist, you know? Because damn. As much as I’m upset, your list had some bangers.” 

“You don’t get to do decide my feelings for you.” 

“I’m not bitchless, you fucking dickhead. Take that back!” 

“Every little thing reminds me of you, which sucks because you’re not in my life anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird not seeing your name on my phone when I wake up. It’s gonna take me some time to get used to this.”

“I think I knew this wasn’t going to last when I realised it’s not that I trust you. It’s that I don’t care what you do, and who you might be fucking around with.”

“One text from you has me happier than a child whose mother bought them their favourite candy. It’s not okay.” 

“I don’t share my Spotify playlist with just anyone. It’s like a secret love language of mine, reserved for those I want to let in. You’re one of them, yet you’re here thinking I don’t feel the same way about you?”

“I dunno, I just… Kinda fell for you.”

“You’re the reason why I fell in love with you. You, as a whole.” 

“There are some songs that I can’t listen to anymore, because they remind me of you; of all the times we’ve had together. And it sucks because some of them are great songs. And you fucking ruined them, you asshole.”

“I’m tired of acting like I don’t care, because I do. I fucking do, and that’s what makes this even worse.” 

“One thing you should know about me is that I suck at letting go.”

“So you’re telling me I’m supposed to sit here and give a fuck? You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. I have places to be and things to do.” 

“You need to stop being such a dramatic bitch.” “It’s the only way I can entertain myself, okay? Now piss off and leave me be.” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let you go.”

“You deserve someone better than me—” “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“You ever think about how good we could have been together?” “Yeah. I think about it all the time, and then I remember how badly you fumbled. So yeah, good job.”

“You’re blushing.” “I’m not.” “…Then I guess I’ll have to give you something to blush over.”

“I lost myself while trying to find the good in you.”

“I think it’s comforting that they’re somewhere out there… Even if we never speak again, you know? They were a part of my life, even if it was only for a little while. They made me feel good, even if it was only for a short amount of time.” 

“Remember when you said you’d catch me when I fell? Well, you’re a fucking liar. Figuratively and literally. Now I’m hospitalised and also emotionally scarred. I hope you’re fucking happy about that.” 

“If we break up, I’d look for you in other people and be reminded that they are not you, and that I’d never find someone like you again. And… I don’t think I can bear the thought of that.”

“I give you permission to break my heart.” “And I give you permission to end me if I ever do break your heart.” 

“I have things to do—“ “And I’m one of them.”

“You’re only saying sorry because you want to make yourself feel better, so you can go shove that sweet apology up your ass because it doesn’t mean shit. I hope you continue to feel like shit over what you did, because I’m never forgiving you.”

“I had expectations for someone I knew couldn’t meet those expectations, so that’s my fault for expecting anything from you at all.”

“You? Breaking my heart? It’s funny how you think you even have that power over me.”

“You were like a routine that I loved and it felt… comfortable. But I guess that’s not the case anymore.” 

“You fell in love with the idea of someone that wasn’t even real. You fell in love with your own projections. How are you so foolish to think that it would have worked out?”

“I’m fine. Of course I’m fine.” “Everything about this interaction is telling me you’re not fine — not even close.”

“The idea of us was perfect. Blame me for thinking it would turn out into something good and as fantastical as what I made it out to be in my head.”

“Because no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s about to drive me to the very brink of insanity, so if you’ll excuse me for not wanting to be near you, that would great.”

“I would not be who I am today if not for you.” 

(pt 1.) | (pt. 2)

[sam24]

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

[catmiemy]

New Life, Old Problems (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Summary: You're trying to fully settle into your new life in London with your girlfriend. But when you get sick your past stops you from reaching out.

A/N: Finally managed to put something on paper again! By now I have about 6 stories (some multiple chapters) fully planned out in my head, but I struggle so much with actually writing any of it. Although it's getting a bit better, so I might become more active again.

This is the third part of the New Teammate series (Part 1, Part 2 Arsenal version). Although I think you should be fine to read this without reading the other parts first. Also this was definitely helped along by @holly-wallis, who reached out to tell me she was excited for the next part. So thank you again!

You thought you were doing well. You thought you had settled perfectly into your new life in London. You thought your relationship with Leah was going great. And all this was true, but only to a certain degree. Underneath the surface there were still many gaping wounds and you had a long way to go, which would take even longer because you refused to accept it, pretending like you were already at your destination.

How hard it really was for you to fully trust anyone, even Leah, to be vulnerable around her, became glaringly obvious when you got sick. As much as you wanted comfort, someone to take care of you, you couldn’t allow it. The thought of trusting anyone so much when you were in a vulnerable state left you panicked.

However there was no hiding your sickness. Leah and you had plans that day and if you came up with some random excuse your girlfriend might end up checking on you since it was unlike you to cancel without a good reason. And sadly you couldn’t think of a single good reason why you were unable to meet up with Leah. How were you supposed to do that when you could barely muster up the energy to go to the bathroom when needed?

In the end you decided that the truth was your best course of action. The defender had been exceptionally understanding about your situation and the multitude of struggles you still faced because of your past trauma. Honestly more understanding and patient than you were with yourself.

Despite being reasonably confident for a positive reaction you still were too much of a coward to call your girlfriend, opting to text her instead. ‘This was better for your sore throat anyway’, you reasoned with yourself.

R: Le, I’m sorry I have to cancel today. I got sick.

L: Oh no! Are you okay? No wait, scratch that. How bad are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Bring you something? Or do you want me to come over to keep you company? I’d be happy to!

You looked at the sweet and caring words, Leah’s concern noticeable even from these few letters on your phone. The urge to text back and ask the Englishwoman to come over was huge. She would take good care of you; make you feel safe and loved. But you couldn’t allow it because what if…

You couldn’t even begin to describe what was hiding behind this what if. Maybe it was actually that, the big unknown, the completely unexpected. Never in your life would you have pictured what had gone done with Jimena and the whole team in Barcelona before it had actually happened. It had left you afraid to fully let your guard down because who knew when something unpredictable would happen again. And right now you were definitely too tired to keep up any guards, so your only option was to keep everyone far away from you.

R: That’s very sweet, but I can’t…I’m sorry.

With a rapidly beating heart you watched your phone, practically hypnotizing it, scared of your girlfriend’s reply. What if this was the final straw?  As much as this possibility scared you, it was still more bearable than the alternative. At least it was an option you had already considered. You wouldn’t be blindsided by it. Plus if there was one thing you had gotten good at in the course of your life it was dealing with pain and people leaving you.

L: I understand, babe. But if you need anything please text or call me. And I’ll be right there! Take care of yourself! Sending you some remote cuddles. Love you!

Your whole body relaxed as you read this response, even some tears of relief rolling down your cheeks.

R: Thanks, darling, I will. And thank you so much for being so understanding!! Love you too!

And with that you put your phone away, buried yourself under the covers and fell asleep relatively quickly. The cold medicine you had taken before texting Leah doing its part in helping you drowse off without too much of uncomfortable shuffling. Your last thought was that hopefully you’d already feel better when you woke up again.

Unfortunately the opposite was the case. You were startled awake by a violent coughing fit that just wouldn’t stop. You thought that you could ride it out, but when it got to the point where you felt like you had to throw up from coughing so much, you forced your tired body out of bed and into the bathroom.

First you collapsed in front of the toilet, bending over the bowl, but once it became clear that you didn’t actually have to throw up, you dragged yourself into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.

As long as you were drinking you were fine, but as soon as you put the glass down the scratchiness in your throat returned with full force, swiftly followed by another cough attack.

You resigned yourself to keep standing there, leaning heavily against the counter, too tired to support your body weight with only your legs, and drink glass after glass, until finally you could put the water down without instantly dissolving into a coughing fit.

At that point you were trembling because of the cold, your teeth chattering and every single bone of your body seemed to be hurting. Still you didn’t immediately crawl back into bed, instead you gathered all of the supplies you might need to ride out this cold. You filled a bottle with water, grabbed some crackers and medicine and then you decided to also get a bowl to be on the safe side should you actually have to throw up at some point.

When you finally returned to bed, your breathing was labored and you all but fell into it. You quickly buried yourself under the blankets. It did little to warm you up though and you debated for a moment to get back up and get more blankets. The idea of moving again seemed entirely impossible however.

This time it took you a lot longer to fall asleep, silent tears streaming down your face because you felt so miserable. You yearned for some comfort, for Leah’s arms around you really, and you knew she would come in a heartbeat if you asked her. Still, you couldn’t. You just couldn’t!

The next time you woke up you felt even worse and it was at this point that you realized that you needed help. Somewhere in the hazy fog of fever and misery you managed to form this one rational thought. However you had little recollection of what happened next.

You remembered staring at Leah’s contact on your phone for a while, although you couldn’t say if you did so for a few seconds or minutes or even hours. In the end you decided against calling her, instead opting to get an Uber. How you managed to get to the hospital was beyond you. You had some vague memories of a very concerned and helpful Uber driver who even walked you into the ER.

Another thing you recalled was sending Leah a message once you sat in the waiting room, slumped against the wall and shivering violently.

R: Fine. At hospital. But fine. Don’t worry!!!!

You even remembered feeling very proud of this text; convinced that it would soothe all of your girlfriend’s concerns. If you would have been coherent enough to read Leah’s answer you would have known that it had the opposite effect. You did feel the constant buzzing of your phone from when the Englishwoman tried calling you over and over again, but it felt kind of nice against you aching body, so you didn’t do anything about it.

---

“She’s not answering her phone and she hasn’t texted me back, Lia! What do I do!?!”

Your girlfriend was crying as she basically screamed these words at her best friend. When she had gotten your text and couldn’t get a hold of you, she had called the Swiss woman for support and because the midfielder was known for being helpful in difficult situations.

“Okay Leah, first take a deep breath…” Lia began with a soothing tone.

“Are you kidding me?! How do you expect me to breath when I don’t know where my girlfriend, my very sick girlfriend might I add, is!” Leah yelled, feeling the need to punch something like some sort of cliché from a movie. Or even better, the blonde would have loved to have a ball at her feet right now, that she could pund with all of her strength into the back of the net. And then maybe get into a slightly too aggressive scuffle with an opponent. Just something to get rid of this nervous energy.

“You know where she is though, she’s in the hospital, so they’ll be taking care of her,” Lia reasoned, continuing quickly before your girlfriend could blow up at her again, “And fine let’s skip the breathing. Here’s what I think we should do; you pack some things your girl might need and I’m going to call the hospitals closest to her. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out where she is. Then I’ll come pick you up and drive you over because you definitely shouldn’t be driving.”

Despite her earlier refusal Leah let out a deep breath, relief smoothing out the edges of her panic, at least now they had a reasonable plan. This was exactly why she had called her best friend and once the Englishwoman was less preoccupied with her fear for you she would be thanking Lia profusely.

A little later the two footballers arrived at the hospital, Lia once again taking the lead and asking about you. There was a bit of a back and forth where the staff had to figure out if they could even give them any information about you.

It was a big test for your girlfriend’s brittle composure, every second that ticked by brought her one step closer to bursting into tears or unleashing her fury on everyone that got into a five meter radius of her.

Leah managed to keep it together however, not using the healthiest coping mechanisms. The Englishwoman kept pinching herself to let at least some of the overwhelming emotions trickle out of her.

Lia frowned when she noticed, but decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to risk a full-blown outburst which might then keep them, or at least Leah, from seeing you even longer.

Finally they managed to find the right information and saw that Leah was in fact your emergency contact, something that the blonde had been telling them all along. If only they would have believed her then this wouldn’t have taken so long!

Thankfully things went quickly after that. Leah was led to your room while Lia wasn’t allowed to tag along. The Swiss woman promised that she would stay in the waiting room until your girlfriend had updated her, in case either Leah or you needed something.

Leah entered your room quietly, not wanting to disturb you even though with all the meds you had been given it was unlikely you would wake up anytime soon. Still she didn’t want to take the risk. So the defender tiptoed into your room, coming to a sudden halt once she had a good view of you.

It filled your girlfriend with fear and pain to see you so sick. You were pale, even more so than usual, almost the same color as the bed sheets. There was a tube connected to your arm, most likely to replenish you with everything you needed. You were also hooked up to a monitor, and it was a small relief to Leah that everything on it looked and sounded normal. As far as she could tell at least. Most of her medical knowledge stemmed from watching doctor shows, so that probably wasn’t the most reliable source.

After getting used to this sick, fragile version of you the blonde approached you, standing by your bedside. She looked down at you with teary eyes, gently stroking your cheek before smoothing out your tussled hair.

Your girlfriend craved more contact. She wanted to snuggle up next to you, wrap her arms around you and basically attach every centimeter of her body to yours. But Leah didn’t know how you would feel about that. Not when you weren’t awake to enforce your boundaries, not when you were in a vulnerable state which usually made you push people far away from you.

So with a sigh she pulled up a chair and sat down next to your bed, not even allowing herself to hold your hand. The England captain didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable even the tinie when you woke up.

It was about 30 minutes later that Leah suddenly remembered that Lia was still waiting for her. She rushed down to the waiting room, not wanting to leave you alone for a second longer than totally necessary.

“She’s okay, I think. Or not too bad at least. So you can go home,” Leah explained, sounding very unsure. Everyone had told her that you would be okay, all the signs pointed to it, but she would only be able to believe it once you woke up and she could see for herself. And maybe not even then.

“That’s good! I guess you want to go back now, but call me if you think of anything you need, yeah?” Lia replied, giving her friend a tight hug.

Leah nodded, before turning around and walking as fast as she could back to your room. She would have run, but had the distinct feeling that that wouldn’t be appreciated by the hospital staff. And the Englishwoman didn’t want to annoy anyone, not when she was aware that they were already breaking the rules for her by letting her stay with you way past visiting hours.

---

When you woke up you noticed with a pang of sadness that there was no warm body next to you. It wasn’t like you and Leah stayed over at each other’s place every day, but definitely more often than not. And lately every time you woke up alone you felt some dismay. Everything was just better when you got to start the day with your girlfriend.

The second thing you became aware of was that despite just waking up you still felt exhausted, drained was the better word really, and also somewhat hazy and achy. It was then that you remembered that you were sick and that you had this weird fever dream where you took an Uber to the hospital. If you would have had the energy for it you would have laughed at the absurdity of this.

However as you opened your eyes you realized with a silent ‘Oh’ that it hadn’t been a fever dream after all, you really were in the hospital. Panic bubbled up in you, but got quickly cut off before it could become overwhelming by your favorite voice speaking up, even if you didn’t like how worried it sounded.

“Babe, are you awake? How are you feeling?”

You turned around, your lips turning into a smile when you laid your eyes on your girlfriend. She had gotten up from the chair she had presumably been sitting in, staring down at you intently. The Englishwoman’s eyes were trailing over your entire body, however not in the way they usually did, this felt more clinical, like she was attempting to spot anything that might be wrong.

“Could be worse,” you replied.

Leah gave you an unimpressed look. “But it also could be better?” She double-checked and you nodded sheepishly.

“Is there anything I can do before I get the doctor?” Your girlfriend asked softly.

For some reason Leah was still standing a good fifty centimeters away from your bed, her arms hidden behind her back as if she had to stop herself from reaching out to you. If only she would! You longed for some comforting touches and maybe a good, reassuring hug from the blonde.

“Get me home?” You joked with a pleading look. You definitely wanted to get out of the hospital but you knew that it wasn’t up to your girlfriend, and she would never do anything to endanger you.

“No can do, sorry babe. Anything else?” Leah prodded, hoping you would ask her for a hug. She could barely contain herself from launching at you, but the fear of crossing your boundaries in such a difficult situation kept her back.

“Maybe a cuddle,” you mumbled so quietly and rapidly that Leah couldn’t decipher what you were saying.

“What was that, babe? Sorry I didn’t quite hear you,” Leah apologized, taking a step closer to you.

You locked your eyes with your girlfriend’s, letting all the love and concern shining in them wash over you and give you the strength to utter your request more loudly. There wasn’t even a reason to feel weird about it, you knew that Leah wouldn’t deny it, would most likely be happy to oblige.

“A cuddle?”

Within milliseconds your girlfriend closed the distance between the two of you, sat down on the edge of your bed and leaned down to gather you carefully in her arms. You both felt and heard the relieved sigh Leah let out when you were tucked into her arms.

It made you wonder why the blonde had kept her distance before, a certain guess at the forefront of your mind. And in the safety of your girlfriend’s arms you managed to ask about it without much over thinking or fuss.

“Why did you sit all the way over there?”

All the way over there was a bit of an exaggeration, but also not really. Any sort of distance between your sick self and your girlfriend felt like way too much.

Leah tried to lean back a bit to look you in the eyes, but you held her firmly in place. You weren’t ready to lose the comfort of her body on yours, even if she put now weight on you, not sure if it would negatively impact you in your current state.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable with me being too close when you woke up. I know allowing closeness when you aren’t feeling too good is still very difficult for you,” Leah explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though your girlfriend showed you over and over again, day in and day out how amazing she was, the level of understanding and love behind this gesture still knocked you off your feet, or it would have if you were standing. It almost made you believe fully that you would always be safe with her. Almost. There was still a tiny bit of fear and insecurity left. It would probably take a good while longer until you got rid of that last remnant and you were once again very grateful for Leah’s patience.

“Thank you so so much, love,” you whispered, pulling the blonde even closer to you.

“Always,” Leah stated, not an ounce of doubt in her voice. She would always do whatever she could for you, to make you feel comfortable, loved and safe.

Your girlfriend allowed you to cuddle a bit longer until she gently extracted herself to get a doctor. At first you were somewhat annoyed at this, you would have preferred to stay wrapped up together for the rest of the night. However when the doctor announced after a quick exam that you would be allowed to go home later that day, you didn’t mind so much anymore. The thought of going home made up for losing contact with your girlfriend temporarily.

Especially because she instantly stated that she would be staying with you when the doctor pointed out that you could only go home if there was someone around to supervise you. The way her voice sounded slightly offended that this wasn’t abundantly clear to everyone made you smile fondly.

That’s how you found yourself sitting in Leah’s car that Lia had brought to the hospital early in the morning with help from Viv and Beth a few hours later. The short walk to the parking lot had tired you out and you couldn’t wait to get to Leah’s apartment and crawl into her cozy bed.

You were half asleep when your girlfriend asked you, “Home?” Still you managed to nod and echo her words. “Home,” you confirmed.

In your drowsy and still a bit feverish state you hadn’t realized that Leah was actually asking where you wanted to go, your apartment or hers. In your mind it was already decided that you would be going to the Englishwoman’s place. You loved her apartment more than yours at this point, everything about it homey and safe.

So when the blonde announced that you had arrived and you opened your eyes from the half-sleep you had been in a wave of unhappiness hit you as you took in your surroundings. You were parked in front of your own apartment building.

Tears flooded your eyes, which you tried to blink away hastily before Leah could spot them. It was stupid to be upset because of this, it wasn’t like your apartment was bad or anything, you were just really craving the comfort of your girlfriend’s place. Where everything smelt and felt like Leah.

Of course the defender detected your distress instantly. She had been watching you like a hawk ever since she had gotten to the hospital last night.

“What’s wrong, babe? Does something hurt? Should we go back to the hospital?” She asked you in rapid succession, trying unsuccessfully to keep her voice calm and steady.

You shook your head, mumbling that it was nothing. To emphasize this point you reached for your seatbelt, determined to get out of the car and into your apartment without any more of a hassle. Everything was fine. It didn’t matter that you had wanted to go to Leah’s home. Everywhere was better than the hospital anyway.

Leah didn’t give up so easily though. She put her hand on yours lightly, not taking a hold of it however, leaving you the option to pull it back if you wanted to. You didn’t, just this small contact made you feel better instantly.

“Please tell me what’s bothering you,” your girlfriend begged, her eyes looking suspiciously wet.

“It’s stupid,” you waved Leah off.

“Please,” Leah asked again, demolishing the last of your resolve to keep this to yourself.

“I really wanted to go to your place,” you explained, rushing to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Let’s just go inside now.”

Again you tried to make an attempt to leave the car, and again Leah stopped you with a gentle touch.

“We can still go over to my place if you prefer,” she offered, already turning her car back on.

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m just being silly,” you argued, but Leah just reached over to buckle you back in and pulled out of the parking space.

You didn’t have it in you to continue arguing. Plus you were too happy at the prospect of getting to go to your girlfriend’s place after all. So you just leant your head against the car window, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“I thought you said you wanted to go home,” Leah said before you could fully fall asleep.

“I did, but I meant your place,” you answered tiredly.

“Oh,” your girlfriend exclaimed, her voice heavy with emotion. The idea of you thinking of her apartment as your home meant a lot to Leah. Every once in a while she couldn’t help but worry if she was doing enough to help you move on, to be the best girlfriend possible, to make you feel loved and safe. So this undeniable confirmation that she had been succeeding in all of these aspects meant the world to your girlfriend.

When there was no more reaction from you after this, Leah glanced over, smiling when she saw you sleeping soundly. You looked so young and open and vulnerable when you slept. Leah cherished the fact that you were comfortable being like this around her, that wouldn’t have been possible a few months ago.

[tayytayy12]

𝗦𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 | 𝗟𝗻𝟰 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

Summary | After a bad brake up, reader soft launches her relationship which her exes friend along with a special song

Warnings | Swearing, previous bad brake up

Faceclaim | Gracie Abrams

Requested | Yes - No

Type | SMAU

Yourusername

Liked by, Sabrina Carpenter, ChappellRoan and 1,008,007 others

Tagged | @/Kika.cgomez

Yourusername - I’ve been away for a while, but I’m back and here to stay thanks to my favourite girl for making me stop being sad in bed. Love you Kika 💕💕

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User1 - How did Carlos fumble THIS hard?

User2 - She’s literally so beautiful

Kika.cgomez - MY FAVOURITE BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL SWEET-HEARTED GIRLFRIEND !!!

Yourusername - I LOVE YOUUIOUII

ChappellRoan - Hottie

Yourusername - all you gorgeous

User3 - Chapell would treat her better than Carlos ever would I’ll say it now

Comment liked by Chapell Roan

User4 - LMAO THIS IS WHY I LOVE HER

Lilymhe - Good to see you back beautiful 🫡

Liked by author

User5 - Okay now that you’re back, MUSIC WHEN BBY?

User6 - Carlos cowering in a corner knowing his time is coming

User7 - he shouldn’t have cheated on her then

User8 - real like hold him accountable

Yourusername

Liked by, LandoNorris, OliviaRodrigo and 3,998,096 others

Yourusername - You ask, I’ll always deliver 🤍 While I was away I was hard at work, but just for you, but for me. This has been a rough time for me these past few months, so as always I’ve channeled all the emotions I’ve been feeling into writing music, and this is the result of that. My brand new album, ‘Good Riddance’ is out on April 22, and I can’t wait for you to hear her, she’s a work I’m so incredibly proud of. But I will be honest with you, get your tissues ready 🫡 (well except for one song about a very special somebody, I’m not that cruel) I love you 🤍🤍🤍

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User9 - NEW Y/N ERA

User10 - I can feel the sadness through the phone

User11 - ARE WE GOING TO IGNORE THE LAST PART? WHO IS THE SPECIAL PERSON?

User12 - It might now even be a guy, it’s probably Kika or Chappel or something

User13 - Real people are so delulu

SabrinaCarpenter - I can’t tell that you devoured

Liked by author

User13 - All these sad ass sing titles then a random ‘so high school’, you can’t tell me that doesn’t sound like a love song

User14 - so soon after Carlos is icky

LandoNorris - Can’t wait!!

User14 - ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!?!?

User15 - Is it April 22nd yet?

LandoNorris

Liked by Yourusername, MaxFewtrell and 1,008,291 others

LandoNorris - Back on the podium !!!! All thanks to a certain good luck charm 🤍

User16 - UM HELLO LANDO??

User17 - That’s me guys

User18 - The fact that he and mystery girl are in an orangey papaya light is so cute

User19 - Y/N IN THE LIKES HELLO?

User20 - A podium with Carlos, and no Carlando pics for the first time ever? What happened 🤍

User21 - THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED

User22 - My man Carlos was glaring DAGGERS into LN 😭😭

User23 - ‘good luck charm’ brb sobbing

Twitter

User24 - HELLO SO HIGH SCHOOL? SCREAMIN?!?!!?

User25 - I WAS SOBBING THE WHOLE ALBUM THEN THIS CUTE HORNY ASS SONG COMES ON

User26 - I need to know who it’s about like right now

User27 - ‘And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined’ I want a relationship written by THE Y/n Y/l/n

User28 - We all do

Text messages

Yourusername

Liked by, LandoNorris, Kika.cgomez and 2,082,292 others

Tagged | LandoNorris

Yourusername - My one and only, Mr. So high school 🤍

LandoNorris - Cutie

LandoNorris - I love you baby

Yourusername - Squealing

User29 - UM HELLO?

User30 - WHAT WHEN WHERE AND HOW?

Kika.cgomez - Couple goals fr 🫠

LandoNorris - Thanks Kika (first nice thing she said to me btw)

Kika.cgomez - Was talking about me and Y/n but okay

PierreGasly - Um okay?

Yourusername - Sorry guys, me nd Kika forever

User31 - Carlos’ best friend is moving dirty

User32 - She’s in her revenge era and I’m so here for it

LandoNorris

Liked by, Yourusername, MaxFewtrell and 1,998,997 others

Tagged | Yourusername

LandoNorris - My favourite, most beautiful girl

Yourusername - Crying I love you so much

Kika.cgomez - She is actually shedding tears

LandoNorris- Cutie

MaxFewtrell - Just listened to Y/ns new song, do me a favour mate, never play GTA with me again?

Liked by Yourusername and LandoNorris

//////

[fingertipsmp3]

I never leave mlm groups I get invited to on fb, and I’m sure the people who start the groups are really annoyed and confused by why I stay despite never contributing or buying anything, but the thing is I just find it so interesting to observe how these people peddle their wares

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Random thought:

You and August Walker sneaking out of a work party to get some time in his private office.

Zombie

Well, Zombie, I'll tell you what I think would happen...

Title: Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Warnings: (responsible) alcohol consumption, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

When the elevator dings and the doors open, he holds out an arm to let you enter first. As you step inside, you catch the eye of your coworker, who is making an obscene gesture with her hands. You can’t exactly blame her. You did just get into an elevator with the damn CEO of Walker Logistics LLC.

That’s right. You and August Walker are in an elevator on the way to his private office to speak more discreetly. 

A million different things went through your mind when he first asked you to step away to his office, and it showed on your face when you first stuttered through an excuse to stay at the party. 

“Tell you what, why don’t we just continue our conversation about your ideas over better booze than what they have down here? I’ll behave as long as you do,” he offers, his sonorous baritone washing over you like a warm bath.

It was more than easy to agree with him; he just had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the room.

As the elevator lifts, August leans against the left wall while you stand in the center. You try to maintain the silence that is only interrupted as the floor indicator dings every few seconds. The anxiety of feeling like you have to perform is strong, and you want to come up with something that he will find interesting.

But all you can come up with is, “You know, you can’t say happiness without saying penis.” 

August’s head whips to you so fast, you think his neck may have broken. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Sometimes, when I’m nervous, I spout useless trivia. It’s the worst superpower,” you admit, hoping he would let it go.

“Sex is ten times more effective than Valium. So, maybe we shouldn’t be so coy,” he hums, pushing off of the wall and coming to stand next to you when the elevator stops.

When the doors open, you are greeted with quite a sight. The entirety of the top floor is closed off by walls, except for his secretary’s desk, which sits just outside double doors. 

You are so surprised by the fact that you are in the CEO’s space that you just gawk at everything while staying in the elevator. It’s only when August stops the doors from closing on you that you close your mouth and follow him to the doors to his office.

Once they open, you’re greeted with a modern office space with two conference rooms around the left and right corners. His L-shaped desk sits in the center of the room, and the polished ebony wood stain reflects the lights of the city from the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the back wall. A leather sofa and armchair set that seems rather inviting fills the carpeted area in front of the mini-bar. You spy the bookshelves that line the right and left walls and wonder to yourself if he’s even read half of them.

Walking around the desk, your feet carry you to the right bookcase. You read the titles of book after book about business and the economy. How fucking boring!

From his spot at the mini-bar, August gets your attention. “So, what would the lady like to drink while she snoops?”

“I’m not snooping. Just looking,” you advise, your fingers swiping the various spines as you walk toward him. “And I would love some bourbon if you have it. No ice.”

“I think I’ll join you,” he remarks, retrieving two lowball glasses and a decanter of the amber liquid. Pouring about two fingers into one glass and then the other. He takes both glasses and places them on the glass coffee table that sits between the sofa and the two comfy chairs. He picks up his drink and turns to you. “What shall we toast to?”

The anxiety running through you is replaced by lust as you join him on the couch, close enough to feel his body heat. Pheromones must be wafting in the air because he smells like sex on legs. You bend forward to pick up your bourbon, and the top of your dress reveals some cleavage. Out of the corner of your eye, you see August tilt his head as he sneaks a peek.

“To not being coy,” you insist, offering your raised glass.

August clinks his glass with yours and says, “To not being coy.”

You both take a sip and when you put your drink down after a sizable gulp, August mirrors you and sits back against the couch. You turn, and he is watching you with hungry eyes. Now or never, you think to yourself.

Leaning in, you kiss the smirk right off his face. His soft, pink lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you allow him entry and massage his tongue with yours as you move to his lap. His hands caress your thighs before sliding up your leg to land on your hips. You know what he is after, so you start to rock your hips and are awarded with a deep rumble of a groan from August.

With his hands grabbing onto your ass, you grow bold and swivel your hips once, then twice. As August bucks up into you, you whimper, and he breaks the kiss. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches up your dress and stops when his fingertips touch your panties.

“May I take these off?” he asks, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he looks up at you.

“Fuck, yes,” you yelp, your desire becoming too much to handle.

With your permission, he pulls them down your legs as far as they will go with you kneeling in his lap. Positioning you to lay back on the couch, he removes them completely, then dives in between your legs with his hands wrapped around your thighs to hold you close. 

He kisses your inner thighs before focusing on your wet pussy. To say he must have been starving for you is an understatement. The way he licks from your hole to your swollen nub was just this side of overwhelming. Swirling his tongue around your pearl, he waits until you begin to buck your hips to take your clit into his mouth.

Your hands go to his hair, clutching his chestnut locks as he sucks your soul out of your body. You’re near tears when he slowly inserts a finger between your folds. You barely hold yourself together as he strokes your inner walls, paying attention to the inner bundle of nerves that drives you wild.

Inserting another finger, he picks up his speed while massaging your G-spot. Listening to your body, he knows that you are on the very edge. One wrong move, and he could ruin it completely. 

But, lucky for you, he knows what he is doing.

He lets your clit slip past his lips, changing his tactic. Flicking his tongue up and down on your bud while adding a third finger to stretch you out, he puts on a master class at foreplay. Within moments, the hold you have on your faculties is all but forgotten as you are brought to orgasm. Your walls clench around his fingers, and he continues to play with your sweet spot. The noise of your sopping hole echoes in the office.

“That’s it; let it go. Such a good girl for me. So fucking delicious, too,” he praises, talking you through it. “You sound so fucking sexy right now.”

When you come down from your high, August is right there to kiss away the tear that escapes your eye as he caresses you. Your entire body is afire with sensations. His hands on you feel feather-soft. Looking up into his face, you can’t help but bring him down to kiss him. The kiss starts slow, but as it continues, tongues and teeth make an appearance. He nibbles and sucks on your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from deep in your throat. 

He breaks the kiss again to kiss and nip at your jaw and neck. You wrap a leg around his waist, shoving your hand between you to stroke him through his slacks. The groan from him at the contact radiates through you. You can tell he has a monster under those clothes, and you want it.

Echoing his politeness from earlier, you speak up, “May I?”

“Please,” he gushes, sitting on his heels to give you better access.

You unzip and unbutton him, reaching inside to take him out. You thank him silently for prepping you with three fingers, because damn. The uncut snake in his pants is heavy in your hands. While you want nothing more than to have it inside you, you would also love to gag on it. August’s hand under your chin lifts your face until your eyes meet.

“As much as I would love your pretty lips around me, I need to be inside you,” he implores, his thumb ghosting over your lips. “I promise you can choke on it later.”

You gasp as he removes your hand from his dick and pushes you slightly to lay back down. He throws your legs over his shoulders, lining himself up with your core, before pushing in slowly. He takes his time, letting you get used to being so filled and allowing him to adapt to your tight heat.

Folding you into yourself, he retracts his hips and thrusts forward. You groan in unison. Pulling out until just the tip remains inside you, he slams back in, kissing your cervix with his cockhead. He picks up the speed, and you can hear how fucking wet you are. The sloshy slaps of flesh on flesh are enough to have you close to orgasm already.

The entire room smells like sex, and it is intoxicating. Your gasps and whines as he fucks you only spur him on to help you chase after your climax. Parting your legs, he grips your thighs, fucking into you harder and faster. The look of determination on his face has you reaching down to play with your sensitive clit.

He swats your hand away in favor of using his fingers to make you cum around him. It happens quicker than you planned, a testament to his expertise. He fucks you through your release, your overworked pussy leaving cream all over his cock. He slows down to a more intimate pace as you come back to yourself.

You tangle a hand in his messy curls and pull him down to kiss you. With your hand on his hip, you urge him to move again. He kisses you deeper as his hips pick up the pace fucking you. You swallow every grunt and grumble from his thrusts. When his lips part from yours, you see the want in his eyes. You know he’s close by the way his hips stutter and his dick twitches.

Tightening your legs around his waist, you push your heel into his ass, and he gets the hint. 

“You want my cum? Ugh, fuck, I’m so close. Shit! Argh, fuck,” he gasps, his cock spasming as he spills inside you. He collapses on top of you with his face in your neck, and you rub his back while he comes down.

Once his softening length slips from you, he grunts and picks himself up to sit back on his heels. He watches as his cum leaks out of you and licks his lips. He gets up and tucks himself away before motioning for you to stay right where you are. He grabs a towel from the mini-bar, coming back to clean up his mess from between your legs. He tosses the towel on the coffee table and picks up his drink to take a sip.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, you know,” he discloses, moving to sit down when you pull yourself into a seated position.

“Huh?” you ask, wracking your brain to find out what he’s talking about.

“I still want to hear your ideas on how to expand our market reach. I mean, you don’t even work in our marketing department, and your ideas have my attention,” he praises, his voice sincere in tone.

“I do have a few ideas on how the company can grow,” you beam, happy to be noticed. “But I think I’d like to discuss that first thing on Monday. Right now, I’d rather enjoy this bourbon and spend time not talking about work. If you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all,” he affirms, sipping his drink before smiling at you. “I am actually looking forward to Monday for a change. But before then, would you let me take you to dinner? I promise there will be no work talk.”

You look into your glass, swirling the amber liquid while you think about it for all of three seconds. “I’ll let you take me to dinner on one condition,” you advise, a smirk playing on your lips.

“And what would that be?” he asks, his arm going to the back of the couch.

“You let me choke on it before tonight is over,” you flirt, holding in a giggle.

The way his eyes darken is a thing of beauty. He lowers his drink from his lips and says, “Fuck, where did that coy little thing go? I’m not complaining, by the way. I’ll make sure you get a taste; don’t you worry.” 

You suddenly feel very warm, and you can’t believe this man is real. You wonder how his words can make you want nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe. You put down your glass after downing the last bit in one go. Liquid courage, don’t fail me now, you think to yourself.

August puts down his glass and leans back. You crawl into his lap again, a knee on either side of his hips. Entwining a hand in his hair, you lean forward and capture his lips again. This time, the kiss is slow and sensual. Your tongue dances with his until your lips touch again. Nipping at his bottom lip elicits a whimper from him that is music to your ears.

His hands move to your ass, gripping the globes as if his life depended on it. When one hand leaves, you only miss it for a second before it lands back on your cheek with a slap. You moan into his mouth, and you can feel the rumble of a chuckle in his chest.

He’s got you right where he wants you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: This story was super fun to write. I would love to know what you think!!! Feedback is appreciated!

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[munsonbrackets]

Astarion x undying male reader

Just imagine Astarion having to lure back someone who can’t die for Cazador. 

Like Cazador didn’t tell him anyone specific, just someone pretty, which you are. Undeniably.

So he lures you over from across the bar, gets to talking, does the chatting he usually does. And you are so nice to him, but he refuses to be locked in another coffin for 200 years for not doing what Cazador said, so he lures you to Cazador.

But just a small problem with you being lured to Cazador to be turned into a spawn. You are a random dude who just cannot die. Not in the “nothing can kill me, i'm unkillable and immortal!” kind of way. No. That would be too simple. You cannot die in the “bone snapping, skull shattering, viscera brought to life once more.” kind of way.

So when Cazador attempts to turn you, you just kinda wake up again. With all of your blood still in you and a REALLY pissed off true vampire looking at you. And Cazador tries, tries again, tries 100 more times and he just cannot turn you. 

And you really can’t be bothered to stay for another 100 trials, so you just leave, first chance you get. All of the spawn think you’re one of them, Cazador being too embarrassed to tell the truth. That he was too weak to turn you.

You leave Baldur’s gate, no need to have a pissed off old vampire coming after you. Especially not when all of his plates are silver, the dude has got money.

And a while later, when you get kidnapped and forced onto the nautiloid. You were scared for the first time in a long time. You had never had an illithid parasite put into your skull. The nautiloid then came crashing down and you were half expecting to just vomit it up. The other half of you wondering whether or not your affliction with death would prevent you from becoming a mind flayer. You always heard that mindflayers very much lacked in the soul category, maybe that’s why you could never stay dead?

But you decide to go at it, you’ve been gone from Baldur’s gate for a few 100 years, maybe someone there could help. On the way you find many companions, Gale of waterdeep, Lae’zel the githyanki, Shadowheart and the rest of your astounding group.

But most importantly, Astarion. Astarion the vampire spawn. Which the group found out about fast enough, specifically when he tried to bite you. You just could not tell whether or not he knew you. Recognized you.

That is until you and him sit alone, watching the stars. 

“You remind me an awful lot about someone I used to know.” Astarion practically whispered it out, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether or not he was gonna let the words out.

“Do I now? What was he like?” You mutter back, your eyes still fixated on the stars. But you are still so aware of him next to you.

“He was… I can’t completely remember. I met him once, maybe twice.” Astarion pauses and a shuddered breath is forced out of his lungs, he’s tense. Possibly remorseful. “But he was beautiful. He would look at everyone like they were infinite. He did that to people. Made them feel invulnerable.”

You ignored Astarion’s indirect, very direct, compliment.

“What happened to him?”

The words left your lips faster than you could really think about them. You tried easing the tension by laying flat on your back, using your palms as pillows for your head. 

Astarion’s breath almost hitched at your words, but he took a second, seemingly in thought. He was probably considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. You realized you had put him into a curious position, and with the battles ahead, you were inevitably going to see Cazador once more. Cazador would definitely recognize you.

“You handed him over to Cazador, didn’t you?”

You forced the words out this time. Every single part of your very being, screaming at you to be quiet.

Astarion swallowed harshly.

“Yes. I did. I wish I could say I would do anything to bring him back from whatever wretched fate Cazador forced him into. But I can’t. It’s never that simple is it?”

An involuntary chuckle left your throat and you saw Astarion whip his head towards you, his anxiety rising a thousand fold. You quickly sat up, looked at him reassuringly, and then you gently folded his hand between yours.

“I’m certain he forgave you long ago. Especially knowing what you went through, I highly doubt he blames you.”

And in Astarion’s eyes you recognized the same man from all those years ago, the insecure vampire spawn with the twinkle of the entire universe locked in his eyes.

You hoped that you made him feel as invulnerable as the first time you met him.

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (pulling out), alcohol, dick (being a slut), frats (?)

dick grayson had a questionable reputation on campus. playboy, daddy’s money, beer pong champ, finance bro, and the king of hookups and god does everybody he’s been with know. there’s a reason all of his previous partners shoot him 2am texts asking what he’s doing.

but tonight he has his eyes on you.

loud music blasts in the frat house that feels awfully tiny with the mass of half naked people who are standing and grinding inside of it, random strobe lights are placed in all corners and the theme of "save a horse, ride a cowboy" is obnoxiously obvious with random cowboy hats hanging on walls and flannels being worn by everyone.

you were dragged by your friends to attend this party, one of which you’d never attend, knowing the man-whore personality of the house you’re standing in right now.

you’re leaned against a counter, solo cup of jungle juice in your hand as you’re buzzed, but still aware enough to know you still don’t want to be here.

the only thing giving it away is your bored expression—because your shorts that are uncomfortably too short, the tied flannel, and cowboy hat on your head tell a different story.

people watching was fun at parties, the outfits, the who’s talking to who, and the who’s dragging who upstairs was entertaining to your tipsy self.

your eyes didn’t spot the ravennette who was familiar with everybody coming towards your way till he was beside you, his body heat radiating onto yours and his breath against your neck as he tries to talk to you.

and the appeal of the man wasn’t hard to understand. he’s wearing a white crop top that his abs are peaking out of, an open flannel and jean shorts that show his quads beautifully.

everyone thought the man was hot, but to be attracted to him was another thing.

"can’t tell if you look lost or don’t wanna be here anymore," the smell of liquor too apparent in his breath that touches your neck, making you slowly meet his blue eyes and obnoxious smirk.

you only raise a brow, scoffing and leaning into his ear now. "don’t wanna be here," you say, leaning back on the counter.

and if anybody knows dick, you know he gets what he wants, and tonight his eyes are on you and your pretty tits that are held up by a push-up bra that you obviously wore for him, he just knows it.

he leans over again, this time snaking an arm around your back and moving his fingers along the exposed skin. "c’mon, i gotta room upstairs that’s practically sound proof." and honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him. the man has money to spend, and maybe he did soundproof his single in his frat house, just because he can. or, maybe he says that so that you can scream and his brothers can fist bump him in the morning. who knows?

but your mind is a little hazy and your speech a little slurred and dick’s arm doesn’t feel awful around you, so you lean in again, this time with a grin playing on your lips. "what’s in it for me?"

dick’s eyebrow arched, his smirk upturned and his hand tightening around your back at the question.

"wanna find out?"

and a few more teasing words of banter were said, a shot thrown down both of your throats, and a few inappropriate gropes placed on your body before he had your hand in his, leading you up stairs shamelessly while smiling at his friends on the way.

dick’s door closes with a kick of his foot, not locking it because… why would he? he doesn’t care if somebody walks in on the two of you.

when he turns around and you’re sitting on the bed for him, he’s grateful you’re wearing skimpy clothes, less hassle and easier access. he can only smirk, asking himself how dumb you are, you obviously dressed like this for him.

the man walks over, kicking his shoes somewhere in the dark room and slipping his flannel off, his biceps seem bigger than they did in your finance class you had with him last semester. his hands are big, veiny and long and fuck they feel good when he cups your face, looking down at you and moving his knee to spread open your thighs.

his thumb moves to your bottom lip, pressing the soft skin until you open your lips all pretty for him, taking his thumb in your mouth and sucking.

"good girl," he says, the hand that’s not cupping your cheek going down to unbutton his jean shorts.

then, dick takes a step back, slipping his thumb from between your lips and moving to the other side of the bed, sitting down and looking at you expectantly. "c’mon, show me more of your pretty self," he leans back on the heel of his hands, his broad chest sticking out and his lap looking like the perfect seat right now.

and all you can do is nod with wide eyes and listen to the man who was slowly but surely talking his way into your pants.

his dark blue eyes watch as you rid yourself of the cowgirl boots you were wearing. he licks his lips when you take your flannel off, eyes darting down to your hands that fumble to take your shorts off. you stand there with your cowboy hat sitting on your head and dick chuckles, "you’re doing real good with the theme, y’know?" he slurs.

you roll your eyes, "not proud of it," you slur right back, stepping forward while placing your knees on either side of his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in.

"i’ll make you proud," dick says, his big hands resting on your hips, fingers playing underneath your thong that should just be considered a string at this point.

he leans forward, biting your bottom lip enough to make you whimper before he attacks your lips, forcing his tongue in and kissing you sloppily. saliva coating both your lips, threatening to spill out by how feverish his force is, his hand pushing you against his cock that’s already hard. and jesus you’re glad you wore the stringy panties you decided on because the feeling of him—even through the shorts he’s still wearing is painfully delicious.

you pull back, eyes half lidded and view not as straight as a sober persons, "gonna make me wait?" and maybe if you were sober the quickness of dick’s moves would seem normally paced, but he was quick to push you off of him to the side of his bed and throw his shorts to the side, followed by his boxers. all he’s wearing is a little white crop top and fuck he looks real good.

he’s toned and defined beautifully. not jacked like some guys are, letting it know that they’re juiced up. no, dick was the most naturally beautiful man to exist. (unfortunately, you weren’t the first to realize that… and definitely won’t be the last).

you lean back on your palms this time, watching him walk over to you painfully slow, his cock hardened all for you. "take a picture, it’ll last longer," he smirks, climbing on top of you while pushing you down and letting your legs wrap around his waist that feels so small in comparison to his broad shoulders. he takes your cowboy hat off, setting it to the side because that will definitely come back up.

you roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, arms wrapping around him and lips reconnecting again. the man is quick to arch your back off the bed, one finger sliding behind you to unclip your bra—which almost feels sickening how fast he was to do so—but your brain doesn’t let that register with the alcohol in your bloodstream.

dick remembers your words from earlier, gonna make me wait? and next thing you notice when you look down is your bra thrown on the ground and dick’s lips on your stomach, kissing down with hands on either side of you on the mattress until he’s sat at your pussy that’s embarrassingly wet for him.

"next party’s on thursday, you should come out," he starts while tugging your panties to the side with a curl of his index finger. "dress real pretty for me again."

and dick says that to every girl, sometimes giving a hint on what he wants them to wear, knowing once he hits, he will always quit and find the next person untouched by him.

"i’ll think about it," you say, broken into a whimper as his lips are quick to suck on your clit and his index and middle finger plunge into your wetness. if the music wasn’t booming from downstairs, maybe the sounds of your wetness would be more embarrassing, but dick just thought it was hot and your moans were real pretty.

and again, if you were sober, you’d probably arch a brow at the minimal time dick stayed down there, but you weren’t and were real hungry for him to fill you up.

"show me what the hype’s about," you say as he climbs up to you, one arm beside your head and one groping one of your breasts enough to illicit small whines from your throat. "i’ll see if you can handle it," he says cockily, voice dripping in ego as the hand that’s groping your breasts goes down to line his cock up with your hole.

in one quick motion he’s filling you up, your back arching off the bed and a loud pitched moan leaving your lips with eyes squeezed shut. dark blue eyes watch your face, cocky smirk not leaving his lips for a minute until he’s sucking on your neck. dick is shameless, he’s purposely leaving marks wherever he wants on your body, knowing he won’t let you do the same even if you tried.

the man above you is going to make sure you remember him fucking you, even if it’s just by you waking up with blotches on your neck and chest in the morning.

"too much?" he asks teasingly, showing no remorse with the deep groans he spills out with every time he fills you up. and dick is girthier than you thought he’d be, everytime he pushes into you feels like the first no matter how wet you are. it feels like he’s ripping you open with the hard and fast pace he’s maintaining.

an answer to his question is impossible, the only sounds are moans and whimpers, more so when his lips are on yours. your sounds mixed together are delicious to your ears and you pull him closer, sweaty body’s and breath tasting like liquor feels intoxicating.

he flips you both over with ease, his toned back resting on his mattress and pillow with you on top now. a loud groan escapes your lips, his full length filling you up but from another position was brutal at first. dick gave you a few more seconds to adjust before his big hands guided your hips up.

"you got it baby," his voice is low and full of desire, blue eyes taking over your frame that feels made for him. one hand comes off your skin to grab the cheesy cowboy hat and he motions for you to put it on with a shit eating grin.

coming to realization, you roll your eyes, "really?" you ask, rolling your eyes with a small laugh. but you put it on, and then fall back onto dick, riding him slowly and at an angle that makes him hit the spot deep inside of you repetitively. "fuck, fuck, fuck," you moan, your eyes closing and neck thrown back from the delicious feeling.

while dick is groaning, he can only smirk up at you, knowing he’s getting exactly what he wanted when he chose the theme for the party that night. "you look so fuckin’ good, riding me so good, yeah?" he’s verbally and physically fucking you at this point.

"takin’ this cock so good, baby," he groans, feeling himself twitching and turning you back over again, so he’s on top when he finishes.

in no time dick’s pulling out to spill his cum all over your lower abdomen, chuckling to himself as he pulls off of you and looking down. it’s his favorite view, flushed red cheeks, chest heaving up and down (making your breasts look even more delicious), and his cum painting your sweaty body.

if he was feeling more like an asshole, he’d ask to take a picture. but he knew you were a nice girl from one of his past semesters and decided not to be a total dick.

"you look good," he says it like it’s a reminder, like you’re already supposed to know—because why else would you be in dick grayson’s bed if you weren’t hot? and he walks away, going to the bathroom that’s connected to his room and returning with a wash cloth, cleaning you up with a laugh. "i’m leaving after this," you say, wiping your lips with the backside of your arm.

and dick let’s out an internal sigh of relief at that, he hates when girls are insistent on spending the night or staying for more of the party, latched to him. "fine by me, want me to get an uber?" he asks, throwing the rag to the side and sitting there for another second, looking at your fucked out state—the one he put you into.

you nod your head, sitting up in the bed, knowing if you stay with spread legs that dick will attempt a round two before the car he’s called you gets here. "wanna hand me my clothes?" you ask, not as slurred of words as before, the fucking sobering you up slightly.

"y’don’t wanna borrow a shirt?" because dick has a drawer full of old shirts from varying events on campus that he gives to his hookups, another reminder to everyone else that he’s the one who fucked you good tonight.

"fuck no," you roll your eyes, moving to get your clothes yourself and slipping them on as dick slips his boxers and shorts on, staring at you as you get dressed from the ledge of his bed.

the clothes weren’t as comfortable as what could’ve been a comfortable and baggy shirt, but you were trying to move as quick and invisible as possible out of the party and to the uber that just rang its arrival on dick’s phone. "it’s here," he says, standing up beside you and wrapping a hand around your waist. "sure you don’t wanna spend the night?"

"positive," the exact answer he knew he was going to get.

"this was fun," he says, leaning into you slightly. "you have my number, i’m always available," if it wasn’t dick, that sentence would’ve been cringey and gross, but his voice sounded too good right now and you nodded. "i’ll keep that in mind."

his hand moves to your cheek, tilting it to press a kiss to your face. "i’ll follow you out," which was code for you to leave and close the door behind you as dick freshens up.

and now you understand. dick knew how to fuck.

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, come on, there’s just —” Will blows an errant curl from out of his eyes, cheeks red with exertion, balancing nimbly on his feet to put both hands on his hips. “There’s no way, Nico.”

Nico, not blessed with such balance, has to hold all footholds with all limbs, staring warily at the lava wall’s snake holes.

“What? I’m just not as good as you.”

Will flops his right arm outwards, narrowly avoiding smacking it against the rock. “But you are!”

Nico shifts his wary gaze from the snake holes to Will’s rope harness. Is it tight enough? It better be tight enough. Will is putting a lot of faith in it, right now.

“You scaled those cliffs in — in the place —” he trips, still, over the pit, on the odd time he mentions it, and it always makes Nico wince — “like it was nothing! And whenever Percy visits and challenges you you’re suddenly the lava wall expert!” He turns stern blue eyes to face Nico’s head-on. “Not buying it, di Angelo!”

A gush of lava forces him to resume climbing, but there’s an aggression to his movements — a specific, stiff, curated aggression, that Nico has learned means anxiety in people known as William Andrew Solace. That, and coupled with the rapid muttering which, in between the roar of molten stone, Nico believes is a a repetition of “dumbass” “always tryna act a goddamn fool” and “I’m gonna kill him before he sends me into cardiac arrest again”, interspersed with random swears in English, Latin, Ancient Greek, and also — gods — Klingon.

“Will.”

Will ignores him, scampering the last few feet up the wall and slapping the top before relaying down. Nico sighs, following him (albeit significantly slower).

“Will.”

“You’re hiding something from me.” He practically rips the harness off his body — do not think about that do not think about that do not think about that — and shoves it on the hook so hard it damn near snaps off. The look he levels in Nico’s direction practically turns him to stone, it’s so frigid, and he has to resist a shiver. “I can tell.”

It takes a good amount of pushing to make Will all testy like this. Sure, his buttons are easy to push, but most of that is for show. He likes to be dramatic. (Especially because he knows Nico will indulge him, more than anyone else ever has. He relishes in it, Nico thinks; he likes that Nico will watch his productions. An Apollo kid through and through.) He’s not usually one to show his genuine frustration.

But, hoo, boy, when he is frustrated.

Nico has a bad, bad habit of making it worse.

(As if it’s his fault that Will’s hot when he’s mad.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nico says, forcibly lightly. He sticks his hand out defiantly. “Check me, why don’t you? Not hiding anything.”

He really isn’t. No injuries, no illness, hell, he’s not even tired. Had a full three meals and everything. Even his perpetually achey joints aren’t bad today.

All of this, obviously, is communicated when Will touches him, squinting suspiciously at their joined hands.

“You’re heart rate is high,” he mutters petulantly.

Nico looks at him patiently. “That’s ‘cause my smokeshow boyfriend is holding my hand.”

Grumpy as he’s trying to be, his ears redden. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.

“Shut up.”

Nico grins, pulling his hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the knuckles.

“No.”

“Whatever,” Will says, snatching his hand back. His smile spreads widely across his face, now, and he looks away, as pleased as he is exasperated. “You’re still being a weirdo. I should not be so far ahead of you on the wall, Neeks.”

Success — back to nicknames. Crisis averted.

“Have you considered that you’re the camp-wide record holder for a reason, you spider monkey?”

“Still!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nico gets up on his tiptoes, pressing a lingering kiss to the bridge of his freckled nose. “Stop worrying about me, Solace. I’m fine. Burn off some steam, I’ll watch.”

Will huffs. “Fine. But I’ll find out, y’hear me? Truth can’t hide from me for long.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watches as Will suits back up, helping him with his more complicated straps (because Nico was raised to be a gentleman, obviously, why else) and shooing him away when he opens his mouth for more interrogations. He switches to sticking out his tongue, and after a moment of hesitation, bounds back over to his first true love — being a big nerdy jock dork.

Nico settles on the grass several feet away from the wall, pretending to clean his sword. After a few minutes, he hears footsteps, and two people sit next to him on either side.

“So,” says Lou Ellen, ignoring Nico’s suspicious look as she tosses a glowing ball of something around, “how come you’re not climbing?”

Nico shrugs. “Only so many times you can climb before it gets boring.”

On his other side, Cecil makes a loud buzzer sound.

“Nope! Wrong answer. Try again.”

Nico is a dignified grownup who refuses to stoop down to Cecil’s level by responding. Instead, he reaches over and pokes him in his ridiculously sensitive ribs, hard, sending him sprawling with a screech.

“Shut up,” he says mildly, as his friend flails. “I’m trying to be a supportive boyfriend, and I can’t do that with all your whining.”

Will has, in the ten minutes since he started, made it halfway up the wall. He seems to have it programmed to the Super Extra Mega Evil Insane mode that the Athena and Ares kids invented just for him, since he smoked all the other levels. He dodges a shot of lava with a laugh, throwing himself to the side and hanging on with three fingers and one scuffed sneaker poised on the tiniest sliver of rock. His attention is broken when Lou Ellen sticks her face right in Nico’s field of vision, tracing Nico’s eyeline with narrowed eyes.

“Ah,” she nods knowingly. “You’re staring at his ass.”

Nico falters, damn near slicing his own fingers off. “No idea what you’re talking about,” he says blithely. He gestures without looking at his sword. “I’m busy, see?”

She scoffs. “Real busy. That’s why you almost just did emergency surgery on yourself.”

“Exactly.”

Will pushes up a foot, shifting his hips and launching himself upwards. He makes a little shout of victory, plastering himself to the wall to keep balance, every muscle tensed.

From his place on the floor, Cecil makes an appreciative noise. “He does have a nice ass. Can’t blame you for looking.”

Nico frowns. “Hey. Stop objectifying my boyfriend.” He reaches out and smacks a hand over Cecil’s eyes. “That’s my job.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”

Nico reaches over and puts a hand over her eyes, too, ‘cause there’s no missing where they’re pointed.

“Shut up or I’ll literally put shadows into your retinae and blind you forever,” Nico threatens. (Is this a thing he can do? No. Do his friends know this? Also no.)

“You’re a dictator!” Cecil protests.

“Depriving us of basic human rights!” Lou Ellen agrees.

Nico shrugs. He glances back up the the climbing wall, where he has a very perfect view — and a great reason to never even try to climb faster than Will does. He grins.

“Too bad for you guys.”