#you can argue with me about these but be warned I will not change my mind. I have given this so much thought and I am convinced about it.

[thesilmarillionblog]

A Sweet Distraction

Summary: When you're in a club, you have to make sure Soldier Boy stays out of trouble and doesn't draw attention of other people while Butcher and the boys look for Payback members. Whatever it takes, you have to keep him busy and distracted.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Language, Soldier Boy being a dick, violence

Word Count: 1704

A/N: English is not my first language.

You put on modest makeup, adjusted your outfit, and gave Butcher a brief glance in the mirror as you prepared to go out with the most dangerous and unpredictable supe alive to keep him distracted. Although he was aware of your fear of Soldier Boy and your lack of desire to spend as little time as possible with him, Butcher believed that you were the only person fit for this dreadful task. You already felt bad about accepting Butcher's suggestion after learning about Soldier Boy's outburst and everything.

“Hey, I know you're new here, but while we're away, it might be best if a lady kept him in check. Don't misunderstand me, lovely.” Butcher remarked, placing his hand on your shoulder to encourage confidence in you. You sighed with acceptance at that. 

You reluctantly said, “Fine,” as if you had the option to say ‘no.’

“Oi, I'm not making any sort of suggestion, you know. I just ask that you keep your eyes on him.” 

“I know, I know,” you quickly answered as your cheeks started to blush. 

You were assigned your first job, but it seemed like your last mission because Butcher, who called you "his boys" only a week prior, forced you to join his team. Being aware of Solider Boy's reputation for uncontrollable explosions, you made every effort to stay away from him during your first week. There didn't seem to be any way to get in touch with him, though. Either Soldier Boy himself would be the cause of your death, or Butcher.

“Don't misjudge him; as long as he drinks and fucking sniffs his cocaine, he won't cause a scene. You'll be alright, I promise. He's not all that miserable.”

Even if you had doubts about Butcher's belief in his own remarks, you nonetheless nodded to him.

“Alright. Yes, indeed, I understand.” You muttered to Butcher. “I can handle this,” but in reality, you were talking to yourself.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed while clapping his hands. He was glad you avoided arguing with him. “My car is yours, and we'll get the van. Let's not keep Soldier Boy waiting around much longer.”

As you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, your heart raced, and you took a sip of whiskey from the closest table.

You entered Soldier Boy's room, where a massive amount of cocaine was on his table, and he was already getting high. You did your best to avoid staring at his massive, well-muscled chest while he was somewhat naked. You were afraid that weed use would increase his nervousness levels or something, or worse, cause him to become even more unstable. You were waiting quietly beside Butcher, wanting to say something about the current state of things, yet you uttered nothing. 

“Hey, are you prepared to enjoy yourself in the modern world?” Butcher inquired in a lighthearted manner.

You retreated a step as he approached you, asking, "With her?" with a grin on his face as he examined you from head to toe after standing up from his chair. 

“Buddy, don't be harsh on her; she's already scared of you.” Butcher spoke firmly, and he added, “Y/N will just be your company tonight while me and my boys look for your most devoted teammates. She is one of us.”

You turned your back as your cheeks became red while Soldier Boy raised his eyebrows and turned back to Butcher. He proceeded to smoke while pulling down his sweatpants suddenly and putting on a shirt over his bare chest. 

“I wouldn’t try,” Soldier Boy said as he changed his clothes. “She better take me to a good fucking place. I’m sick of staying in this fucking room.”

“That is not anything to worry about for you.” You all left the room as Butcher murmured.

You and Soldier Boy arrived at one of the most well-known and weird clubs, which was primarily packed with supes, after having nothing at all to talk about while driving. Soldier Boy's mouth curled into a satisfied smile as you became extremely nervous.

As soon as you two walked into the club, he said, “Not bad.”

If you were a supe, you would find it much easier to adjust to the environment and everything, but you weren't, and if you pissed someone off, they could kill you in a second. That's why you got a drink right away and followed Soldier Boy everywhere.

He removed the drug from one of his pockets and said, “I wonder if there is a fine chick to fuck,” before turning to face you. “All the sperm feels heavy in my balls though I jerked off at least five times, fuck.”

You said to yourself, "Oh, god," as he continued to spit filthy words. He turned to face you, licked his lips, and gave you a smile that was so inviting that it stopped you in a moment.

He asked, “What happened now?” as if you were exaggerating. “I thought you all wanted to take away my attention.”

As you were going to say something unpleasant about his actions, you remembered what Butcher had said and changed your mind.

“It is not important.” You sipped your drink and kept an eye on the folks in the crowd who were getting wild, intoxicated, and dancing, and you added, “Everything's fine.”

Soldier Boy smirked as he saw your shy demeanor and chose to focus on you briefly before giving someone a hard and deep fuck. He may even attempt to get you to open you spread your legs for him so he can give you a satisfying fuck. Your bashful demeanor made him wonder if your pussy was as tight as he thought it was.

“You don’t need to be scared of me, you know,” Soldier Boy said and he gave you another inviting look.

You muttered, “How is that even possible? After all, you are a supe on cocaine with PTSD.”

Even though you felt bad right away for speaking out loud, he only laughed at your harsh remarks and replied, “Touche.”

You asked him with an uneasy smile, “Are you having fun?”

"Well, sweet thing, I'll start having fun as soon as my dick disappear into some really tight pussy.”

You muttered, “Okay, okay,” cutting him off from continuing. You took a deep breath, muttered, “You keep having fun, I will be around,” and hurriedly moved away from his side.

You just hoped that the night would end soon enough for you as you faded into the crowd. Should you get through this night without injury, you vowed to spit hate in Butcher's face. 

You chose to watch Soldier Boy from a distance, so you made some space between you and tried not to pay attention to the bizarre and frightening behaviors of the people around you. It appeared to be a massive freak show. You couldn't determine which club was worse, Herogasm or this one. 

As you locked eyes with Soldier Boy, you noticed that his lethal green eyes were already bound to you, as though you were some kind of prey to be pursued. He frowned as he moved to approach you through the chaotic crowd, and you gasped. Perhaps you were just making things up in your thoughts, and he was just staring at someone else. You tried pushing some people and finding a quieter place to avoid him.

But the person you might have shoved hard turned around and yelled, “Why the fuck are you pushing my fucking back?” to you. He became increasingly enraged after you muttered an apology, saying, “Why do they even let ordinary people get in here? You only bring difficulty upon yourselves, fuck.”

Once more, you pleaded, hoping to get out of there without stirring up any more tension. “I sincerely apologize.”

You moaned in agony as the supe's large hands gripped your arm tightly. It was not as if he would give up. You should never have accepted Butcher's suggestion in the first place.

But happily, Soldier Boy's stronger hands grabbed the strangers tightly, saving them from a terrifying situation in an instant and giving them a sense of happiness. If not, it appeared unlikely that you would survive to escape this strange club. As Soldier Boy turned to face the supe stranger and shot you a glare, you touched your arm with a painful moan.

“Is it that, you fuckface, your micropenis gets hard for the weak? You wanna play the big bad tough guy?” Soldier Boy asked angrily as his hands tightened a rough, quick grip around the other man's throat. He wasn't allowing the other supe to say anything. With feeble mutterings, he was urgently attempting to free himself from Soldier Boy's brutal hold.

“Please, don't cause any trouble,” you urged, touching Soldier Boy's big arm. Despite your attempts to calm him down, he continued to tighten his hold even after the supe kept apologizing. 

“No,” he angrily said. “I found a way to have fun. This fucking cocksucker is going to die.”

You tried to get him to move by saying, “Please, stop,” but it was obviously impossible. You panickedly muttered, “Oh, no,” as you noticed his chest suddenly glowing. 

He clinched his mouth, trying to control his chest and halt what was about to happen, but Soldier Boy threw him between the crowd and he growled, “Stay away.”

 You knew that you wouldn't make it to the exit between all the chaos and supes before Soldier Boy exploded, so you disregarded his warnings, softly cupped his neck, and placed your cold lips on his warm ones, hoping to surprise him with your unexpected move and calm him down a little.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

A/N: I might write a part 2, but I don’t know, haha. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated.

You can check my Masterlist for more Soldier Boy / Reader stories. Thank you!!

-`♡´-

[ihrthoney]

christmas regrets

pairing: christmas showdown!chifuyu x f!reader

warnings: fluff, some angst, happy ending! (this is chifuyu centric)

word count: 1k

an: based on the episode where chifuyu is bummed because he can’t get a christmas date :p

It has been a few days since the fight with black dragons and Chifuyu’s leg was still kind of messed up. He can walk just fine if he ignores the pain.

Takemitchy was currently at his house, he said he wanted to make sure Chifuyu was okay. They filled each other in on what had happened. It turns out that after the fight, Takemitchy and Hina get back together. Although, Chifuyu didn’t even know they had broken up!

“Heh, yeah... I kind of broke up with her on Christmas Eve.” Takemichi embarrassingly admits.

The blonde gapes at him, “Why would you do something as stupid as that!”

“Her dad sat me down and asked me to! He asked if I would be able to keep her out of danger. It made me think about whether or not I could! I mean, I told you the future!”

“But that’s why you’re here! To change the future!” Chifuyu argues.

“I know! After the fight, I apologized to her and vowed to do my best to protect her no matter what!” Takeichi exclaimed.

The two continued to talk, going back and forth on their New Year plans when a sudden question appeared in Chifuyu’s mind,

“Speaking of plans, I have a question for you.”

Looking away from one of the blondes’ manga, “What is it?”

Shyly, Chifuyu asks, “Am I married in the future?” 

It takes a minute of digging through memories before he remembers Chifuyu mentioning something about a wife.

“Actually, yeah you are.” Another memory floods his mind, though it isn’t of Chifuyu but Kazutora.

“Do you know how awful it is having to tell yet another person that I couldn’t save their loved one!” Kazutora yells. Anger coursed through his veins, tears brimming the edge of his eyes. 

“Because of scum like you, yn is going to have to mourn for the rest of her life!”

Waving his hand in front of Takemichi’s face, “Hey, are you listening?” 

The latter blinks, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you know her name.” Excitement is written all over his face. 

“Her name is YN.” At his response, Chifuyu’s smile dropped from his face. His reaction confused him, “What?”

“YN? As in, YN LN?” Chifuyu asked.

Shrugging, he replies, “That’s what Kazutora said. Why?”

Looking away, rubbing his neck in embarrassment, “I.. sort of rejected her.”

“WHAT! But all you do is complain about how much you wish you had a girlfriend?!” Chifuyu scoffs at that, the urge to slap Takemichi strong,

“It was before I met Baji, I was a different person. I told you already, I was full of anger and hate. She had confessed to me on the rooftop at school but I said no. I was uncaring and rude, she didn’t deserve someone like that.” After his confession, Chifuyu’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit!” Quickly, Chifuyu got out of bed, threw on a jacket and socks, and ran out the door.

Chasing after him, Takemichi asks what he’s doing, “I’ll be right back!” With that, the door closes in his face.

-

It was the last day of school before winter break, finals were over and Chifuyu was relieved. He stretched in his seat, focused on the plans to stop Hakkai when two girls walked in front of his desk.

Without a word, they drop a note on his desk and walk away giggling. He had half a mind to just ignore it but the shoujo reader in him was too curious.

So, he opened the letter to find the text,

“Meet me on the rooftop. 

- yn”

He blinks once, twice, then jumps out of his seat to run towards the roof. Excitement rushes through his body, Chifuyu was so thankful for another chance with you! 

Although, right before he can open the door, he feels his phone buzz. He wanted to ignore it, but when he sees that it's Takemitchy he pauses his movements.

The blonde can barely get a sentence out before he’s loudly interrupted, “I’m bus-”

“Come to my house! Quick!” 

Chifuyu sighs, the current situation with the Christmas plan is important and the future is quite literally at stake.

Regretfully, Chifuyu turns around and sprints towards Takemitchy’s house, leaving you alone and upset. 

If Chifuyu slams the door open and shut too harshly, Takemichi ignores it.

-

It’s snowing but Chifuyu feels hot after sprinting to your house. How he knew where you lived was a mystery, (Hina once briefly mentioned you live in the same building as her and he kindly asked if he could know the door number).

After catching his breath, the blonde tries to straighten his jacket and smooth down his hair. He stood outside your door, suddenly nervous when he noticed he didn’t bring anything as a peace offering. 

He starts to slightly rock back and forth on his feet when the door suddenly opens, 

“Matsuno?” You questioned, his heart skips at the sight of you in casual clothes.

Blinking, “Hey LN.”

“What are you doing here?” Shit. He was blanking, he didn’t prepare a speech or anything, all Chifuyu just wanted was to see you.

“I came here to see you.” The delinquent answers.

“Okay... Can I ask why?” Leaning on the doorframe, you wait for an explanation.

“I just wanted to see you,” You blushed at the honesty, “I also wanted to apologize for standing you up on the rooftop. I swear I meant to meet you but then I got caught up with other shit and then I just finally remembered today of your note. I’m also sorry for rejecting you a little while back, I was an ass and-”

Chifuyu was rambling and to help reassure him, you ruffle his hair a bit, “It’s okay, Matsuno.”

You were about to take your hand back when he gently held it in his own, “Please, let me make it up to you. Are you free tomorrow?” 

Your brain froze at the contact, you couldn’t believe your crush was asking you out!

“Are you sure you’re free tomorrow?” You tease. 

His face gets a little red, embarrassed at his previous actions, “From now on, I’ll always make time for you.” 

It was such a serious statement that your cheeks matched the red hue on his. 

“Then it’s a date, Matsuno.” Your hands were still intertwined,

“Please, call me Chifuyu.”

© ihrthoney. reblogs & feedback are greatly appreciated𑁤

[misscammiedawn]

Check to see if you have a 'bring your hair dryer to work with you' therapist.

I'm serious. I've been in and out of the mental healthcare system in the UK and US for over 20 years and if I have learned anything about clinicians it is that they divide care into "want to make the client "sane"" and "make the client able to live a comfortable/happy life" categories.

Let me explain.

There's a really good post that can be found here: http://benedante.blogspot.com/2016/12/the-hair-dryer-incident.html

The long and short is a person was struggling with obsessive compulsive disorder who worried that if they left their hair dryer plugged in then they would burn down their house. This had them disrupt their life to check on their fear and their clinician told them to bring the hair dryer to work with them so when the panic set in they could see the hair dryer was with them and it would soothe their fear with minimal disruption.

The blog post above goes into it. Mental healthcare professionals arguing over whether this was "enabling" and a detriment to healing and coping versus those who saw that the life disruption had been solved and it's okay for the client to not be healed if they can live their life.

-

So. Get a 'take your hair dryer to work' therapist. Ask yours about the hypothetical and see where their priorities lie. Are they trying to help you or heal you? They may sound like the same thing but they're not always. Ask yourself what you want from your circumstances?

We have DID and our therapist always treats us as individuals (something the DSM-V specifically warns clinicians against) because she saw how much damage it was doing for us to try and shift and change our behavior to be socially accepteable. It's better for our mental health to embrace "being insane" (my words, not hers) than to repress ourselves to the point of denying anyone the chance to get to know us.

Every clinician will carry baggage with them. That's just normal. But you got to know where their priorities lie. There's a lot of stigma in the mental health field. Knowing if they'd encourage you to act a little crazy for the sake of your peace and comfort helps.

At least. That's our opinion.

[iaeriy]

desire • florian wirtz

summary: a celebration night left you and your best friend upset so you’re determined to find ways to apologize even if it’s too far. (based on this request!!)

word count: 5.98k!!!

warnings: best friends to lovers trope, mention of alcohol, vomiting, angst, smut, oral sex: f!recieving! unprotected sex,

note: NOT PROOFREAD. but uh, anon..i kinda changed it..BUT DONT GET ME WRONG. i loved writing this one ngl, we’re about twenty followers from being to 1k! anddddd…*drumroll* a month of two til my one year on tumblr 🥳🥳. anywhoo! plz enjoy! 💝

“Why are you drinking, put it down.” Florian said, you turned your head to look at him. “What!?” You shouted, he shook his head. “I said why are you drinking.” He said, you snickered. “It’s only once in awhile flo.” You smiled, he looked at you. “Where’s your sister?” You spoke, finishing your drink, “I don’t know..” he spoke, you rolled your eyes. “I’ll be back!” You said, getting off the stool, you pulled your dress down walking over, you bumped into someone looking up at the guy. You’ve obviously never seen him before, “oh sorry..” you mumbled, lost in his eyes. Either the alcohol had gotten into you or this man was just beautiful. ‘Oh shit’ you thought, he was one of the youngsters from the squad.

“You’re florians girlfriend?” The boy spoke, you shook your head.

“No we’re just best friends since we were young..” you spoke. “You’re reno right? I’ve heard about you from flo.” You smiled, he nodded his head. “So you and florian arent a thing?” He spoke, you shook your head. “No, he’s been a brother to me since we were babies.” You smiled, he held your waist. You looked at him, brows furrowing. ‘maybe hes drunk..’ you thought, you felt eyes on you as you looked around and made eye contact with florian. You looked away quickly, “excuse me..” you said, walking to the bathroom.

a few minutes later..

You walked out the bathroom, not from far you saw florian talking to reno. You frowned, before walking over there. Suddenly florian disappeared, reno looked at you. “Hey i have to go-“ he said, you looked at him. “What..why..” you said as he looked at you, “i have to go, i don’t know why..” he said chuckling nervously, you stared at him. “uh huh..” you said, crossing your arms against your chest, “it’s just, i’m not interested or y’know dating you..” he said, his eyes focusing on somebody. And who was that somebody? Ding ding ding, florian. You nodded your head, “alright.” You walked away, leaving reno shocked. You turned around, grabbing florian by the hand. “Y/n-what are you!” He said, you yanked him to the girls bathroom.

“And just what on earth are you fucking thinking!?” You yelled, “what did you tell him! because all i did was just talk to him.” You said, hands moving around while you spoke. “Nothing! I-I just talked to him about the win that was it-“ he said, you scoffed. “Bullshit! It always happens every fucking time!” You said, throwing your arms around. “..no wonder every guy thats around me doesn’t talk to me because you’re always fucking around blabbering.” You spoke, florian’s mouth widened at your words. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Jesus are you just going to stand there or wha-“ he cut you off, grabbing and holding your hands. You looked up at him, startled. “Am not here to argue with you about this, not on the night you should be proud of me or when i win the league title. I’m not doing this here.” He spat out, throwing your hands as he walked out the bathroom.

You scoffed, locking the bathroom door as you bit down on your lip, thinking about what just happened. You sighed, washing your hands as you dried them before flicking water on your face. You walked out the bathroom, “hey i was looking for you!” Marie said, you smiled. “Flo left upset, is everything okay?” She said, you nodded your head quickly. “Yeah! We’re fine..!” You smiled slightly, she nodded her head. “Come on then, you can stay with me and julie!” She said, you giggled.

After hours of partying and 10 shots of tequila down the drain..

Marie held you by your arm as she walked over to the car, “y/n..you drank a lot..” she said, you giggled shaking your head. “noooo…i didn’tttt..” you said singingly, she got you in the car as you rested your head against the seat. “You should’ve been with florian..where is he..” julie spoke from the passenger seat. “a-am not sure..” you spoke giggling, mind in a different type of mindset. You spread your legs, head throbbing in pain. “my head hurts..” you mumbled, resting your head on the window. marie parked the car infront of your garage, julie turned around laughing at you. “flo would’ve laughed his ass off at you!” She said, you rolled your eyes. “you’re funny julie..” you said whining. Holding back a burp.

Marie held your hand, you got out the car carefully. She wrapped your arm around her, as julie wrapped your other arm around her. The three of you stumbling into the house, you looked around the dark area before marie turned the lights on. You winced, looking away from the light, “you look green y/n.” Julie said, you immediately ran to the bathroom getting THAT feeling. Marie walked back and looked around, “where’s y/n!” She spoke, julie pointed at the bathroom as she ran towards the door. “y/n! can i come in..!” she said, you were retching and puking your guts out. You flushed the toilet, as you got up turning the sink on washing your mouth. Gurgling water.

“y-yeah..you can..come in..” you breathed out, you laid your head next to the toilet seat. marie opened the door and looked at you, “feeling better now?” She said, you shook your head. The only thing in your head repeating were florians words, speaking of florian your eyes widened. “Where’s flo..” you spoke, she shrugged. “not sure..i tried calling him when he left.” She spoke, you nodded your head. “do you want me to leave you alone? i could stay and help?” she said, you shook your head. “no no, it’s okay..i’ll be fine..!” You smiled. She hugged you, “okay..i’ll be going with julie then..call me if u need anything!” marie said, you hugged back nodding your head. “mhm..thank you..” you whispered, she got up walking out as you walked out the bathroom, heading upstairs to your bedroom.

You grabbed a pair of matching panties and matching bra, possibly white as you grabbed a oversized shirt and walked again to the bathroom. Turning the shower on, setting the temperature to cold hoping the cold water would sober you up. You undressed yourself as you got in the water, letting the cold water hit your body. You closed your eyes, holding your palms out to wash your face with the water as your mind went back to the moment in the bathroom with florian. Why did you drink? Did you hurt him? Why did you yell at him? Did you overreact? You immediately opened your eyes, your eyes starting to water for some reason. You drowned your face into the water dropping down.

30 minutes later..

You got out the shower, finished getting ready to sleep. You took some pills for your headache as you walked to your bed, hopping under the sheets. You grabbed your phone from your nightstand, texting florian.

{12:22am} you: hey, i’m sorry for what happened

{12:22am} you: i was just drunk, i didn’t know what i was thinking.

{12:25am} you: text me back when you can flo, please.

You sighed, giving up on your hopes. You decided to put your phone on do not disturb mode, the behavior of your best friend, the person you only talk to, the boy you somewhat love. You tossed around until you fell asleep, hoping a message of his came in.

7:56am..

You woke up, your head slightly still hurting. You sat up, grabbing your phone checking the notification center, hopping to see and look for his notification. just to find out he never texted back, you sighed. You got up, walking to your closet finding a pair of grey flare sweats and a pink longsleeve. You quickly changed, before walking to the bathroom, starting to brush your teeth. You put your hair in a clawclip half up-half down as you put your slippers on that florian had gifted you. You sighed grabbing your phone including your keys and wallet before you headed downstairs.

You walked outside your house closing the door behind you, walking to your car as you got in the driver seat, starting the car, driving off to florians house.

A few minutes later, you arrived outside his house. You swallowed nervously, your heart beating fast like crazy. You quickly got out the car, walking to the door. You stood there, taking all the anxious thoughts in before sighing out loudly as you knocked on the door.

No response.

You frowned, this time pressing on the door bell. You waited, balancing your weight onto every foot. you heard the small loud footsteps as you looked at the door, as it opened. Your heart dropping at the sight of the girl who looked a bit older than you, even sounded older. “Hello?” She said, giving you a disgusted look. Oh. ‘Bitchy aren’t we.’ You thought, “..um is flo around..?” You spoke, you looked at her. She was half naked, wearing one of your oversized shirts that flow had kept. Leg and butt naked. Your heart somewhat aching..keep it together you thought. “Yeah..he’s in the shower..” she said in a mean tone. You werent this dumb, your stomach dropping as it hit you. Why would he do something worse now? Did he really have to? He slept with her. “Hello!? Are you going to say anything!?” She said, you stared at her. “Tell him it’s best we distance ourselves.” You spat out, you turned on your heels walking away quickly as she looked back.

You were gone.

You hid behind the gates of his house, waiting for her to go back in quickly. You watched her go in as you got in your car driving off as quick as you could. Your eyes somewhat tearing up again.

“Oh hey casandra.” Florian spoke, going downstairs shirtless and in black sweatpants. The girl looked at him, her brows furrowed. “Something wrong?” He said, she cleared her throat. “Some girl came by..” she mumbled, he looked at her. “Oh..who?” He said, walking to the fridge. She sat on the stool, looking at the boys back. “I don’t know who she even was. She came talking about its better about distancing..I don’t know.” She spoke in annoyed tone.

He stopped his tracks, looking at her. “Cas, how did she look like.” He spoke, she furrowed her brows again. “She had brown hair..she wore something pink and some grey sweatpants, she was wearing these slippers too. She had her hair down too.” She said, he furrowed his brows thinking. “Distancing..” he thought of the word again. His eyes widened as he knew right away, he walked upstairs quickly. “Where the fuck are you going!” The girl screamed. Running to his room, florian grabbed his phone off the charger. His fingers immediately unlocking the screen and tapping on your contact.

He panicked, knowing he fucked up.

{8:02 am} flo: did you come by a few minutes ago?

{8:02 am} flo: it wasn’t what you think it was i swear y/n

{8:04 am} flo: please answer me.

{8:10 am} flo: y/n we can talk it out

{8:11 am} flo: just us

Your phone vibrated multiple times, you looked down to see florians contact. You gulped, putting your phone in your pocket, sincerely you were out with your friends, Vanessa and rachel having breakfast. Your heart still aching, fuck. I guess you did like him. You loved him, how couldn’t you tho? He’s been your best friend since 6 years old? You thought. You zoned out, your hands starting to ache as your body ached from even thinking. “I’ll be back!..” you spoke, excusing yourself walking to the bathroom. You bursted out crying, you wiped your tears off quickly as every tear came down. You breathed shakily.

Who knew what would be more to come.

A few days later go by, you were feeling alright. You havent spoken to florian since the day, you decided to let your friends come over. Possibly not florian, you got ready. As you put on a white dress on, you tied the red lace. You walked over your your closet, finding a pair of white heels, you made your way downstairs. You heard the doorbell ring as you ran to the door, opening it.

“Oh you look so good!!” Vanessa hugged you, you hugged back giggling. “Is marie coming?” She spoke, you nodded your head. Soon your other friends and marie arriving.

A few hours later after a few drinks down the drain..

You were walking around, wobbly possibly not even in a straight line. Feeling tipsy you sat next to marie, your other friends dancing on each other and laughing. “Oh my god y/n..” she sighed out before laughing, you rested your head against her shoulder. “Can we take a fotooo..pleaseeeee” you spoke, she laughed nodding her head. The two of you taking a picture, “oh my god! you’re drunk again!” she said laughing, you shook youe head. “nooppeeee..” you said laughing, laura your other friend took your hand, grabbing you. “Come on! Loosen yourself up more!” She said, you whined. “Finee!” She said, you two walked to the kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of vodka, your eyes widening. She poured some in your mouth, she laughed loudly watching you.

you wiped your mouth, your lipstick smudged. She giggled. “Oh my god! You recorded it too!” You said whining, she laughed nodding her head. “Whyy nott..”she spoke, you rolled your eyes. Vanessa sat down on the couch, as you quickly walked to the living room sitting next to marie. “So, you didn’t invite florian?” She spoke. You turned your head looking at her, “no..” you mumbled, ugh. Why was he brought up you thought. “He was..u-um..” you burped on accident, covering your mouth. “sorry!..he was busy, i forgot to mention!” You said, making a lie up.

Laura grabbed your hand again, “come on!” She said, you whined. “A-Again!?” You said, she nodded her head. “There’s more!..” she said, you rolled your eyes. You got up as the two of you walked over to the kitchen. You sat on the counter, kicking your legs around. “W-What time is it..” you said, she looked at the electronic clock. “twelve twenty-“ she spoke, your eyes widened. She gave you the bottle again, you chugged the lasy bit of it as her eyes widened. “I-I think that’s enough!” She said grabbing the bottle from you, you whined.

An hour later after cleaning and a mess of cups..

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Marie said, you nodded your head. “M-Mhm..i’ll be fine!” You spoke, she smiled. “Okay, well bye!” She said closing the door. You walked to the kitchen, going to the fridge. You grabbed a cold water bottle, you opened it taking a sip out of it. You made way to your room upstairs, just as you were about to sit down on the bed.

The knock on the door made you whine out loud. You lazily got up, “c-coming!” You said, the door bell ringing multiple times now. “I-I said i-i’m coming, jesus!” You whined, running downstairs. Surprisingly you didnt fall on your heels, you opened the door. Your heart dropped. Flo. “guess my invite wasn’t in the mail, huh?” He said, you tried to close the door. Too late. He already had his foot in the house. “Ugh! Can you just get out!!” You whined, possibly stomping. “Have you been drinking again?” He said, you looked at him. “No! Get out of my house! What the fuck do you want!” You whined.

“I came by to talk to you..” he said, you rolled your eyes. “Not. Fucking. Interested.” You spoke, “You’re drunk y/n.” He said, you looked at him, shaking your head. “I-I’m not! Can y-you just get out..” you mumbled, about to turn and walk away before he grabbed you, pulling you to him. “Get off me!” You said whining. He held onto your waist, not letting go. “Stop! Just get off me!” You whined, he didn’t let go. “Florian! Let me go!” You yelled out. “Look can i just talk to you!” He said, putting you down, as you looked at him. You sighed giving in as you nodded your head. “Look, i’m sorry for the day you came over. You don’t get it, i was hurting. She meant nothing, i promise. She didn’t at a-“ you scoffed, “Seriously!? She meant nothing. That’s bullshit!” You spat out, his eyes widened. “You fucking knew what you were doing! She wore my shirt! My shirt that i left at your house when u let me sleep the night over!” You yelled, about to slap his chest he grabbed both your wrists. You looked at him.

“Look, i was hurting. What you said affected me, i’ve been your best friend since we were 6 y/n. Even your soulmate okay. I fell for you. I love you.” He said, your eyes widened. “I couldn’t stand seeing you next to reno at all, same with other guys when we go out and you’re trying to talk them out of something. I’m so-“ he spoke, before you got out his grip, cupping his cheeks tightly as you kissed him. He kissed you back, hand holding your waist, you stumbled back and forth until your back hit the knee wall of the stairs. He picked you up, the two of you still kissing. He walked upstairs, closing the door behind as he laid you down on the bed, he laid himself ontop of you. He kissed you deeply this time, you kissed back.

He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth, his warm tongue exploring around your mouth passionately as your tongue slowly began moving against his. His hands, sliding up your dress. Your hand holding onto the back of his head, knee rasied against his hip. He pulled away sometime, you looked at him breathlessly. “Stand up for me.” He said, you nodded your head. You stood up, slightly wobbily infront of him. You were abt to take your heels off before he held your waist, giving it a slight squeeze. “hm..” you said. “Keep your heels on..” he said, you nodded your head. You untied the lace off your dress, pulling your dress off by the sides. you let the dress fall down, pooling around your ankles as you slipped your legs out of it.

His breathing increasing watching you, the boner aching through the fabric of his cargos. You sat on his crotch, wrapping your arms around him. He kissed you deeply again, his hand squeezing and cupping your breast as you kissed back with a whimper. You slightly moved your hips back and forth against his crotch. He groaned deeply into your mouth, you let your tongue slip in his mouth this time. The two of you playing and exploring each others mouth, he grabbed your back before moving you to the bed as he laid against you. Your legs opening apart, his bulge pressing against your core. Your hands sneaking under his shirt, fingers roaming through his abdomen and chest. He bit down on your bottom lip, you winced a bit.

He pulled back, kissing your lips again before his lips trailed down to your neck. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, you looked at him. Your eyes dilated and big, he chuckled as he watched you raise his shirt to his abdoment. Raising it higher and higher he took it off, discarding it somewhere in the room. His lips going back to your neck, his lips moving against your skin as he sucked on a spot, leaving a mark. You whimpered, holding onto his chest, your acrylics starting to run across his back. Florian began to bite on your neck, leaving small marks around your skin. He pulled back, tilting his head looking at you, seconds later you’re looking down at him having the chance to unbutton his pants. He smiles, caressing your cheek.

“Florian, please..” you whined, he kissed down your chest, his hand fondling with your boob. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking onto your nipple as he used his tongue, flicking his tongue around your hardened nipple. You bit on your lip, his hand kneading with your other boob, his finger pulling and pinching your nipple causing you to moan. He pulled his mouth off with a ‘pop’ a little string of saliva connecting onto your nipple. You blushed heavily, before he moved his mouth to your other nipple doing the same to your other boob. You tugged onto his hair, legs wrapping around his waist attempting to grind yourself onto his boner. He pulled away, moments later you bit on your lip. He pulled his cargos off, he positioned himself infront of your core. You blushed again, his hands wrapping under your lower back, pulling down your white thong.

You looked away, flustered and heated as your cheeks blushed in pink and warmness. You bit on your finger slightly looking down at him, he licked a long stripe letting his wetness stick to his tongue. You arched your back, moaning at the sensation. His tongue, licking the top of your pussy, sucking on your sensitive pearl. You held onto his head, moaning uncontrollably as his tongue did the work. You leaned your head back, as your thighs rested on his shoulder. He moved his mouth further down, his tongue licking between your folds near your entrance. His face burried in between your thighs as you moaned uncontrollably. “Flo..” you breathlessly moaned out.

He continued eating you out, “y-you’re..t-teasing..” you spoke, he hummed as his tongue slipped into your entrance. You moaned loudly, feeling the tip of his tongue hit your opening. You gripped onto his hair whimpering, “k..keep doing—mmngh!..that!” You moaned out, holding onto his head. Your eyes rolling back, feeling yourself slowly closer. Minutes later, your gripping onto his hair as your other hand is gripping onto the pillowcase, “I-I’m gonna..” you moaned out, his index finger rubbing on your sensitive pearl. Your back arching causing your bubble to burst as you came around his tongue with a cry. He chuckled, licking your pussy one more time before moving his mouth away. You looked down at him, breathing heavily.

He sat up, pulling his boxers down giving it a few strokes, precum oozing out. Your eyes slightly widened, he grabbed your chin as you looked at him. He positioned himself against your core, this time pushing himself into your entrance. You gasped eyes rolling to the back of your head, scratching his back at the stretch, he groaned watching your face expressions before he slowly began to thrust into you. Your legs slowly wrapped around his waist, he nearly laid himself on you. His right hand caressing and squeezing your boob, you whimpered before he kissed you. You kissed back, cupping his cheek. He continued thrusting himself into you, keeping up with a rhythm as his cock pulsated in and out into your walls.

He rested his forehead onto yours, looking down as he watched himself pull in and out of your pussy. You held onto his waist, whimpering and slightly moaning. He began to thrust faster into you, causing you to let out a hiccuped whimper. You held his jaw, the two of you making eye contact as he groaned against your lips, you moaned uncontrollably. “Open your legs, baby..” he said, you whimpered at the moan. Your legs opening wide, you rolled your eyes. He stopped thrusting, you whined before he grabbed your hips, your inner thighs touching against his as your lower back was lifted. He thrusted deeper into you causing you to moan loudly already.

“O-Oh god!” You moaned out, his hips thrusting quicker into you, gripping onto your waist. Your hands gripping the pillow case, head burrying into the pillow. Your boobs bouncing up and down with your body jolting forward within every thrust. His free hand, holding and squishing your boob. You moaned uncontrollably, florian groaning feeling your walls squelch around him. “You’re so pretty..” he whispered, you whimpered. He kissed you again, your moans muffling in between the kiss, you held onto his arm.

The room soon filled with the sounds of your moans and grunts including florians deep groans and moans. His breathing getting tense, picking up the pace, lost in pleasure, including you.

Your tummy began to twist inside, your walls slowly tightening. You whined, as he leaned closer into you, your legs closing against him. He looked at you, resting his forehead against yours yet again, you looked up at him. You moaned, feeling yourself get closer. Florian picked up the pace, thrusting his hips faster than he was. You shut your legs quickly, feeling his tip hit your g-spot, moaning loudly as your eyes rolled back. Your legs crossing and wrapping around his waist, your heels still on as they touched his back. He chuckled at the remembrance of earlier, his hips snapping and smacking against you. “Let go..” he breathlessly said, letting his body lay on yours, head resting on your neck as you came around him, moaning his name out.

Hands roaming through his lower back as your other hand held his head. He slowly thrusted into you, you cupped his cheek breathing heavily. You smiled lazily, kissing his forehead. He kissed your lips, you kissed back cupping his cheek. He pulled out, you sighed at the emptiness, “Turn around for me..” he whispered, you turned around. Now in the middle of the bed, laying on your stomach, holding yourself on your elbows. He kissed your shoulder as you leaned your head back, your head resting onto his shoulder. He chuckled, giving your ass a light squeeze, his lips going down to your back. You giggled in between the kisses he planted on your skin, kissing your lower back.

He softly slapped your ass as you giggled again. He positioned himself behind you, pushing himself again. Your eyes rolling back, knowing the sensitivity would come and hit you. You held onto the sheets, he laid his pelvis onto your ass, hips thrusting slowly into you. Your moans slowly starting to come again, “flo..” you moaned his name out, he tugged onto your hair making a shifted ponytail before he thrusted his hips quicker. You gasped, holding onto the sheets as your moans slipped out one by one, uncontrollably. “Fuuuckkk!” He moaned, slapping your ass. You jolted forward within every thrust, you bit on your lip. Still moaning uncontrollably.

You were sweating, panting and possibly crying. Your mascara was smudged, your lip liner and lipstick combo was smudge. He rested his head on your shoulder, laying on you again. His hips slamming onto your ass, you whimpered in between. His thrusts slowly getting sloppier, you looked up at him. “f-flo..” you moaned out, holding onto the sheets. He fell on you, thrusting harder into you. You let out another hiccuped whimper or more precisely a bunch of stuttery hiccup moans. He chuckled, slapping your ass one more time.

“You’re tightening..again y/n.” He said, you whined. “O-Okay!” You rolled your eyes, he chuckled at your attitude. You let your head fall onto the bed, he pushed himself in deeper, finding your g-spot he thrusted quicker there. You screamed, gripping onto the sheets as you cried out from the sensitivity. “F-Florian!” You moaned out, he smirked. He felt himself twitch as he thrusted quicker onto you, you cried out again. Your tummy twisting yet again, your second orgasm of the night.

Within seconds later, you were gripping onto the sheets, a few tears slipping out before you came all over him. Your walls tightening causing him to slip out, just with a few strokes he came on your back, painting your back with his drops of cum. you fell on your stomach again, breathing heavily. legs shaking, you felt florian get off you. you slowly started to fall asleep before you felt a towel on you, “h-hey!” you said, he looked at you. “sit up.” He said, you sat up facing him. He gave you the makeup wipes, you frowned, your eyes closing as you nearly fell. He held your head, holding you. “You’re not sleeping with makeup..then you’re complaining about pimples y/n..” he said, you whined. He took a wipe, wiping off every inch of makeup on your face.

You whined, he tossed the wipe in the small trashcan. He turned your lamp on. Holding you he undid your bed before placing you on your spot as he laid under the sheets with you. You looked up at florian, before you rested your head on his chest falling asleep.

8:38am..

You were asleep, your arms were wrapped about somebody. Their arms wrapped around you as well, your eyes slowly starting to open as the first thing you looked was under the blanket. Great. A naked you. You looked to your side as you slightly startled yourself. “Stop moving around..” florian said, you smacked his head playfully before you rested your head on his chest again, “shut up..” you mumbled, he woke up looking at you. “Oh you’re awake..” he said, you smiled. “How is your hangover..you drank a lot last night..” he said, you rolled your eyes. “Like shit..you reminded me..” you sighed out, “wait. how’d you know i was drinking either way..” you said, he chuckled. “Maries story..especially lauras..” he said, your face heating up in embarrassment.

“Rightt..” you said, he chuckled. You looked down, the scatter of clothes and your heels. “So..about last night..” you said, he looked at you. “You didn’t mean to sleep with her right?” You said, he nodded his head. “Y/n, i love you. You’re the girl i want to spend my mornings and night with, i love you so much.” He said, you smiled kissing his cheek. “What do you think your mom would say..” you said, he bursted out laughing. “Shh..” he said, you giggled snuggling onto his chest. He kissed your cheek.

[httpkaulitz]

could you write a fluff where the reader and Tom get into a fight and then he goes out and late he arrives drunk and she takes care of him? I love your write pookie <3

Drunk

PAIRINGS: Tom x Female reader

CONTENT: Fluff

SYNOPSIS: You take care of drunk Tom.

WARNINGS: none

You stared at the page of the book without actually reading the words. It had been hours since everything had happened, but the thoughts and memories still continued to run through your mind like a movie. You wanted to say that you weren't sad and that you hadn't cried, but you would be lying.

You and Tom always argued like every couple, and you always made up soon after. But this time was different. You exchanged very harsh words and you were both too hurt to try to understand each other.

Tom had left, slamming the door loudly after looking at you hurt.

You woke up to your cell phone ringing non-stop. Tom wasn't home yet so you decided to go to bed early to avoid any future arguments. You opened your eyes slowly, reached out clumsily to grab your cell phone from the bedside.

"Gustav? Did something happen?" You asked worriedly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked at the clock on the bedside and the red light was flashing 2:27 in the morning. Gustav would never call at this hour.

"Yes... can you open the door for me?" He sighed looking tired.

"I am going." You got out of bed and walked towards the door, stumbling a little on the way because of your sleep. You opened the door and Gustav had Tom leaning on his shoulder.

"My God what happened?" You quickly ran over to him helping him carry Tom to the couch.

"I don't know. He called me and I found him like this. It seems like he spent the day drinking, so the fight must have been for some stupid reason." Gustav said trying to make everything sound less than it really was. He knew you well enough to know that you wouldn't like the situation at all.

"Hey, you said you weren't going to bring me here." Tom mumbled in a slurred voice. Anyone could see that he was completely drunk.

"You, quiet." You said angrily pointing your finger at Tom's face.

"Don't point fingers at me. You shouldn't even open the door dressed like that." He shouted, blatantly looking at your body, smiling.

You were so worried about the possibility that something serious had happened to your friend that you didn't even bother to change your clothes. The nightgown was a completely short blue dress and showed more than it should. You just rolled your eyes and turned your attention to Gustav.

"Sorry, you didn't need to waste your time bringing this idiot. You could have left him on the street." You said taking Gustav to the door. He looked at you with a warning look even though he knew you weren't serious.

"I know... it's just that I had a very long day, which apparently isn't over." You look at the sofa and see Tom try to get up, grimace in pain and fall back into his seat.

"Do you need help with him?" Gustav asked worriedly.

"No, you've already helped enough." You almost laughed at your friend's relieved expression. "You can take his car, you won't walk home because of a drunk." You shouted the last part so Tom could hear and he mumbled a bunch of incomprehensible things making Gustav laugh.

"Thanks, don't be too hard on him. Good night." He hugged you, already heading towards the exit.

"Don't defend him." You complained, moving away from Gustav who laughed in his face. "Good night, be careful on your way home."

You took a deep breath and walked over to the couch. Tom was still the same way you and Gustav had left him, he tried to get up a few times, but gave up when he realized he couldn't do it alone.

"Let's go." You said more to yourself than to Tom. You pulled him by his arms, helping him get up, put one of his arms around your neck and started walking towards the bedroom.

"Okay, just a little more." You whispered with difficulty as you lost your balance and hit one of the walls in the hallway.

When you arrived in the room, you let go of Tom, who fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. He leaned up trying to kiss you but you pulled away.

"Stop it, Tom." You said pushing him away.

Tom held you against him until you stopped trying to get away. "You look really pretty dressed like that." He said, lowering one of the straps of the nightgown and letting it hang on your shoulder.

"And you're really drunk." You looked at Tom, he had the same wolfish smile, but his mouth was swollen and a large purple spot was starting to form in the corner. You let go of his arms, finally managing to stand.

''You would look prettier without any clothes on.'' Tom whispered, sitting up and trying to grab you by the waist.

''Tom, stop it. Take off your clothes and lie down on the bed.'' You pushed his hands away, taking a deep breath. You were still upset about the fight earlier, but there was no point talking about it now.

''That's what I'm talking about.'' He said, laughing and tugging at the hem of his nightgown.

You rolled your eyes, slapping Tom's hand away. You rested your knee on the mattress and pulled Tom's shirt over his head.

''Don't even think about sleeping until I'm done.'' You mumbled, noticing his sleepy state.

''I'm not sleepy.'' He replied, with a drunken wave.

You unbuckled his belt with a quick movement. ''You're good at that.'' He said smiling, Tom raised his head to look at you who was completely serious and focused on your work.

''Shut up.'' You said irritably, unbuttoning his jeans and moving them down his legs. You threw it to the ground and stood with your hands on your hips, breathing heavily.

''Come on.'' You pulled his hands trying to lift him up.

''Where are we going?'' He asked confused.

'No way you're going to sleep next to me stinking of alcohol.'' Tom just grumbled in response without wanting to get out of bed.

''Come on, Tom.'' You sighed, dragging him to the bathroom.

He grumbled again, doing nothing to help. In the best case scenario, he ended up putting more weight on you.

''Stay here, I'll turn on the shower.'' You said, placing Tom on the toilet.

You turned on the shower, changed it from hot to cold and waited for the water to change temperature. You felt Tom wrap his arms around your waist and press your body against his.

''Can't you stay quiet even when you're falling down drunk?'' You asked, not expecting an answer.

''Are you still mad at me?'' Tom asked when you moved his arms away from your waist.

''You hate me now.'' Tom said in his drunken state pouting.

''I'm sure I don't hate you.'' You said laughing and turning to look at Tom, he had taken off his underwear and was now completely naked. You quickly looked up at Tom's face, which was smiling smugly.

''Don't pretend you don't like what you see.'' He smiled, naughty. You smiled and pushed Tom under the shower.

He grunted when he felt the cold water and tried to get out, but you pushed him back under the water.

''It's cold.'' He complained.

''This will help with your drunkenness, and you'll thank me tomorrow.'' After a while more listening to Tom complain about the cold water, and other things that you didn't understand because he spoke so quietly. You turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.

''I'm not sleepy.'' Tom complained as you put him in bed and covered him with the duvet.

''Tom please, it's early in the morning and today was very stressful, just be quiet, okay?'' You asked softly, walking away towards the hallway, but Tom held your hand and pulled you back.

''Will you sleep here with me?'' He asked sleepily, already snuggling into the soft covers. There were few times that you slept apart after a fight.

''Do you think I would not sleeping in my comfortable bed because of you?'' You raised an eyebrow seeing Tom smile at your sarcastic tone.

''Smart girl.'' He whispered letting go of your hand.

You walked to the living room to get your cell phone, Gustav had left messages saying he had arrived home safe.

You looked at the time on your cell phone screen 03:15am. You was exhausted, confused and stressed. You walked back to the room and found Tom already asleep. His body was sprawled out on the bed, his head tilted to the side and from the messy state of the bed you knew he had moved a lot until he found a comfortable position.

The duvet had come down leaving his body exposed, the light coming in through the window was enough for you to enjoy the view of his subtle and completely perfect muscles. You felt your face heat up and you knew you were blushing, when your eyes traveled further down his torso, following the trail, eagerly, as if it were a map that would lead you to the pot of gold.

''Stop it, you're still mad at him.'' You whispered to yourself pushing away your lewd thoughts. You put the cell phone on the bed, and pulled the blanket covering Tom's body.

As soon as you lay down next to him, he brought his body closer to yours, hugging you around your waist. You smiled as you watched him sleep peacefully. You guys would be fine.

[invisible-lint]

Something Wrong

AzrielxReader

Summary: Azriel is late coming home and you worry

Warnings: MC death, major angst

Word Count: 1.3k

You pace in front of the fireplace, the warmth coming from it doing nothing to warm the chill in your bones. Something was wrong with Azriel, you were certain. He was supposed to be back  hours ago. Typically when either of you went on a mission, you would put walls up, silencing the mating bond, to keep from being distracted, but if either of you were delayed for any reason, you took down those walls just long enough to let the other know. But he hadn’t. When you had gone to Rhys worried, your mate hadn’t responded to the violet eyed male either. 

You were supposed to go with him, but right before the two of you were set to leave, you had gotten news that changed everything. You’re pregnant. You almost hadn’t told him, knowing that he’d make you stay behind, but had decided being left behind was better than what might happen if he noticed your changing scent while the two of you were away. 

So here you were, pacing in front of the fireplace in Rhys’ office, waiting for him to let you go track down your mate.

Rhys says your name, getting your attention. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’ll be back soon and tell us why he was late and why he didn’t answer. And then we can kick his ass for making us worry.”

You shake your head, you may not be able to feel your bond right now, but you can feel it in your soul. “Let me go after him.”

“Absolutely not. Azriel told me why you stayed behind. I am not sending his pregnant mate, my pregnant friend out into a potentially dangerous situation. If I did, he’d kick my ass and have every right to do so.” You stop your pacing and cross your arms, glaring at the High Lord. How is he so calm right now?

“Send me after him.”

“No.”

“Who are you more afraid of, Azriel or me?”

“Azriel, no question. You’re a very close second right now though if it makes you feel any better.” It doesn’t. You’re about to argue more when a bout of nausea sends you racing for the wastebasket next to the desk. Why it’s called morning sickness when it plagues you at all hours of the day, you’re not sure. 

“Sorry about the waste basket.” Rhys just shrugs and waves his hand, cleaning it. Thank the Mother for magic.

“Don’t worry about it. If he’s not back in an hour I’ll have Cassian go look for him, okay?”

You nod, giving up on arguing with him.

Feyre comes in with a glass of water and a cup of ginger tea. You stand slowly, and move to the couch near the window before taking the glass from her, sipping it slowly. She sits next to you, taking your free hand in hers. She squeezes your hand, trading the water for the tea once you’ve finished it. You sip the tea, appreciating the way it soothes your stomach. 

“It helped when I was pregnant with Nyx. I can have some sent to your house if you’d like?”

“I’d like that, thank you.” 

“Of course.” You sit like that with Feyre, sipping your tea for the next hour. Azriel doesn’t show up.

“Rhys somethings wrong. I know something is wrong.” He looks at you, starting to believe that you may be right.

“I’ll tell Cassian to go search.” You feel Feyre wipe tears away from your eyes. When did you start crying? 

“We put up walls when we’re on missions. Would… If he was… I’d know if he was…”

Feyre rubs your back, trying to comfort you, keep you from breaking down completely. “You’d know. That you would know. He’s still alive.” You nod, letting out a breath. 

“Cassian is heading there now. He’ll find him, don’t worry.”

And so you wait. Feyre continues to rub your back, and you lean against her, taking comfort in your friend. After a while, you find yourself rubbing the spot where your and Azriel’s child is growing. You chew your lip. When Cassian gets back with him, you’ll have to have a talk with him about stepping back, at least for a little while. You need him. And you want to make sure that your child gets to meet their father. 

You must have dozed off, waking suddenly when Rhys and Feyre both stand. You look between the two of them, knowing they’re communicating mind to mind. 

“What is it? Did Cassian find him?”

Rhys’ voice is calm and even. Too even. “Yes. I’m going to go get the two of them and Feyre is going to go get Madja.” It’s bad. It has to be bad if Azriel couldn’t even winnow himself home. If Rhys has to go and get them. In your growing state of panic, you don’t even notice them leaving. You stand, pacing by the fire again. What had happened?

 It’s the smell of the blood you notice first, running towards the source of the smell. When you take in the sight of your mate, you start crying again. You make your way to his side, taking his hand in yours. “Oh, Az… What happened?” 

He tries to reach up to wipe the tears away from your face, but doing so must aggravate his injuries, because he winces, letting his arm fall back down by his side. “You should see the other male.” You shift, pressing your forehead to his. You don’t like the raspy sound of his breathing. The way his shadows seem to be lying dormant, pooling with the blood underneath him. 

“Just hold on a little bit longer, Azzie. Feyre went to get Madja.”

“Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“If I die-”

“No. I take it back. You are not dying. You can’t die. I won’t allow it.”

“I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter, Love.”

You sit up, looking him in the eyes, ignoring how pale he is, how close to dying he is. Where is Feyre with Madja? 

“I don’t care. I need you. I can’t do this alone.” 

“Yes you can. You’re the strongest person I know. I love you. So much.”

“I love you too Azzie. You’re going to be okay.” He just smiles at you sadly. He’s not sure if it’s hope or sheer stubbornness or if you’re just refusing to see the reality of the situation in front of you. He wishes he wasn’t going to die. Wishes there wasn’t so much to live for. Wishes he would get to hold the child you’re growing. He takes a shallow breath, eyes getting heavy.

“No no no no, c’mon Azriel! You’ve gotta keep your eyes open! Keep your eyes open for me, Azzie baby.” He wishes he could listen to you.

Feyre was right. You would have known if he had been dead earlier. You feel it when he dies. Feel it as the mating bond disappears. It’s different from when you would block eachother out. Then, you could still feel it there, a warm presence in your chest, a golden thread connecting you. Now, your chest feels empty, hollow. The golden thread is gone. You cling to him, screaming.

Madja and Feyre appear then, too late. Not that anything could have been done if they had arrived earlier. You pull him into your arms, holding him to your chest as you scream and sob. Your friends watch on, their own eyes filled with tears. Eventually, your throat becomes too raw to scream, so you just hold him, sobbing, ignoring how his blood soaks your clothes. Then, you run out of tears, so you just hold him, not wanting to let go. 

Feyre tries first to get you to let go of Azriel, but you ignore her. Cassian tries next with no success. When Rhys tries, you don’t let go, but you do look up, your eyes meeting his violet ones. 

“I told you something was wrong.”

A/N: I'm a little bit sorry for this one and I don't even have Hozier to blame this time. Feel free to either send in requests!

[theodorenmyth]

I wanna request something where reader had done to much activity to the point their legs are sore. It’s to the point they walk funny and Tom looks at them weirdly before asking if they need help and reader is like “….no.” And tries to run away before the riddle brother could pick them up and take them to the med wing.

-🤓

Carried by Pride

Pairings : Tom Riddle x GN! Reader Summary : After pushing yourself too hard at Quidditch practice, you can barely walk, but refuse help from Tom Riddle. Ignoring your protests, he carries you to the hospital wing, teaching you a lesson in humility and unexpected friendship. A/n : Enjoy (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠) Warnings) : Nothing! Word count : 1k+

The pain in your legs was nearly unbearable. Each step sent a jolt of agony through your body, but you refused to let it show. You had overexerted yourself during Quidditch practice, and now you were paying the price. As you hobbled down the corridor, trying to appear as normal as possible, you couldn’t help but wince with each step.

You cursed under your breath, mentally berating yourself for not stopping when you had the chance. The idea of resting hadn’t crossed your mind then, but now it was all you could think about. Just as you turned the corner, you nearly collided with Tom Riddle.

Tom's sharp eyes immediately narrowed as he took in your awkward gait. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of suspicion.

You forced a smile, trying to act nonchalant. “Nothing, I’m fine,” you lied, attempting to walk past him.

Tom’s eyes followed your movements, his brow furrowing deeper. “You’re walking funny,” he observed bluntly.

You waved a hand dismissively. “Just a little sore from practice. I’m alright,” you insisted, though your legs screamed in protest.

Tom stepped closer, his eyes boring into yours. “You need help,” he stated more than asked.

“I don’t need help,” you retorted, your pride stinging at the thought. “I’m perfectly capable of getting to the common room on my own.”

Tom’s expression didn’t change, and you could see he wasn’t convinced. “You can barely walk,” he pointed out. “Let me take you to the hospital wing.”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, really. I’m fine,” you repeated, hoping he would drop the subject. You attempted to quicken your pace, but the pain shot up your legs, causing you to stumble.

Before you could regain your balance, Tom was there, his arms steadying you. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and for a moment, you were too stunned to react. He looked down at you, his eyes softer now but still filled with determination. “You’re not fine,” he said quietly. “And you’re not running away from me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Tom didn’t give you the chance. In one swift motion, he scooped you up into his arms, holding you bridal-style. You gasped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support.

“Tom, put me down!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I can walk!”

He ignored your protest, his grip on you firm but careful. “Clearly, you can’t,” he replied. “Now stop squirming, or you’ll make it worse.”

You huffed, glaring at him. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” you muttered.

Tom’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I can’t believe you thought you could get away from me in your condition,” he countered. “You’re as stubborn as you are foolish.”

You wanted to argue, but the truth in his words silenced you. Instead, you settled for crossing your arms and pouting, which only seemed to amuse him more. As he carried you through the corridors, students stopped to stare, whispering among themselves. You buried your face in Tom’s shoulder, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled against his robes.

Tom’s chest rumbled with a soft chuckle. “Consider it a lesson in humility,” he said. “You don’t have to do everything on your own, you know.”

You peeked up at him, surprised by the warmth in his voice. “I just didn’t want to bother anyone,” you admitted softly.

Tom’s expression softened further. “You’re not a bother,” he said firmly. “If you need help, you ask for it. Understood?”

You nodded reluctantly, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and irritation. “Understood.”

The journey to the hospital wing felt both endless and too short. Part of you was grateful for the support, while another part wished you could have managed on your own. When you finally arrived, Madam Pomfrey rushed over, her eyes widening in surprise.

“What happened?” she demanded, her gaze flickering between you and Tom.

“Overexertion,” Tom replied calmly, setting you down gently on one of the beds. “They pushed themselves too hard during practice.”

Madam Pomfrey tutted disapprovingly. “You students and your Quidditch,” she muttered, waving her wand to examine you. “This will take a few hours to heal properly. You’ll need to stay here for the rest of the day.”

You groaned, lying back on the bed. “Great. Just what I needed.”

Tom stood by your side, watching you with a mixture of amusement and concern. “Maybe next time, you’ll listen to your body,” he suggested.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t suppress a small smile. “Maybe next time, I won’t let you catch me,” you teased.

Tom’s smile widened. “I’ll always catch you,” he said softly. “Whether you like it or not.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to relax. Maybe asking for help wasn’t so bad after all. As Tom turned to leave, you called out to him.

“Tom?”

He paused, looking back at you. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” you said sincerely.

He nodded, a rare warmth in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound respect for the enigmatic Slytherin. Perhaps there was more to Tom Riddle than you had ever imagined.

──────♡───────

Hours later, after Madam Pomfrey had fussed over you and made you rest, you reflected on the day’s events. You had always prided yourself on being independent, but today had shown you that even the strongest people need help sometimes. Tom's unexpected kindness had given you a new perspective, and maybe, just maybe, you’d be more open to accepting help in the future.

As the door to the hospital wing opened again, you looked up to see Tom entering, a small tray of food in his hands. “Thought you might be hungry,” he said, setting it down on the bedside table.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Tom. Really.”

He shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Just don’t make a habit of running yourself into the ground,” he said lightly. “I’m not always going to be there to catch you.”

You nodded, the hint of a laugh escaping you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tom lingered for a moment longer before giving you a final nod and turning to leave. As you watched him go, you felt a sense of contentment. You weren’t alone, and maybe, with friends like Tom, you never would be.

[sosa2imagines]

Broken Hearts. Part 3

Warnings- Fluff, Idea of hurting someone, threats, mention of sex video, possessiveness, manipulation.

Lloyd, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, suggested an idea that sent a thrill through you.

“We could attack Peggy,” he proposed, his voice carrying a blend of excitement and determination. He passionately argued his case, emphasizing the benefits of taking action against Peggy. “Think about it,” he began, his words compelling and persuasive. “She's got it coming, and it would send a strong message. We've got the resources, the skill, and the drive to make it happen.”

Lloyd's enthusiasm was contagious, and his argument fuelled the fire within you, making the idea a tantalizing possibility.

Your response to Lloyd's suggestion was a light-hearted laugh, though the temptation to follow through tickled the backlines of your mind. “No.” you firmly denied, your voice tinged with amusement. Despite the momentary flash of excitement, you knew deep down that attacking Peggy wasn't the right course of action.

As Lloyd continued to argue in favor of attacking Peggy, Andy stepped in with a firm reminder. “Hey, this is illegal,” he interjected, his voice carrying a tone of reason. “Even if we pull it off, Peggy can turn around and sue you, dragging you through a legal mess.”

Undeterred by Andy's cautionary reminder, Lloyd remained steadfast in his determination. “Because of her, my Sugar's hurt.” he asserted, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and protectiveness.

“Lloyd, please?” “Fine Sugar.”

“It is funny, how he only listens to you, but not us.” Andy jokes, making Lloyd give him a death glare.   You roll your eyes playfully, “Anyway, I have to go to meet May and her family.” You announce. “You're not going out, Sugar...” Lloyd said firmly, his protective instincts kicking in. His voice carried an edge of worry. Relax, I'll be fine. It's just May and her family, Nick is coming along too.” You gently tell him.

Your reassurance and Nick's presence seemed to soothe some of Lloyd's anxieties, and he begrudgingly acquiesced to your plans. “Fine.” he relented, a mix of frustration and protectiveness still lingering in his tone.

“Hey, thanks for coming with me.” you expressed your gratitude to Nick, a gentle smile playing on your lips. He responded with a casual shrug, his signature laid-back demeanor shining through. “No problem,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of nonchalance. “Happy to be with you always.”

You smile and looked down, feeling bad about not being able to go out alone, without anyone being with you. Simply because Steve is not ready to leave you alone. He refused to sign the papers. You even blocked his number, but that has not stopped him. Andy did manage to get a restraining order against him, using the footage from your aunt's house. But then again, he had influences.

Nick senses the change in your mood, he puts an arm around your shoulder giving a gentle press “Hey no being sad okay? Anyway, Lloyd would have bored me to death with his dick jokes.” He rolled his eyes playfully and that made you laugh, but the fear was still there, “When will I get to be free Nick? Why can't he let me go?” 

“He is a jerk, he realized he lost the most expensive thing in his life for trash. Me, Lloyd and Andy will make sure he leaves you alone for good, so for now enjoy with us.” He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eyes “unless you are bored with us?” Nick acts, as if the last sentence made him hurt, and you acted dramatic, putting a hand on your chest “Bored with you guys? Never ever!” You laughed, shaking your head at his jest.

May and her family warmly welcomed you and Nick, their genuine smiles offering a sense of comfort. They took the time to explain the inner workings of the cafe, sharing details about how they had run the business over the years. It was clear that they had put their heart and soul into making it a successful venture.

May and Happy, went on to discuss your aunt's legacy, mentioning how she had always wanted you to inherit and continue the business. The conversation revealed their deep appreciation for your aunt's vision and the hope that her dream would continue through you. While Nick took a special interest in sales and was very impressed. You both got along fine, with them.

“I wanted to help my aunt… but because of my busy married life I couldn't help her.”

“We understand dear, you have nothing to worry about.” May holds both of your hands in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We also know about your husband…” Your eyes grew wide and Nick tensed, but May was quick to escalate the tension “Small town, but we don't judge you, even your aunt hated him” she tells you.

“Yeah, guess she was right about him… I was stupid to believe Steve.” you pity laugh, but May embraces you in a tight hug. It was a nice feeling and knowing no one is judging you.

After bidding farewell, you and Nick left for home.

“They are lovely.” You beamed. “Yeah love how the sales are good” Nick winked at you before focusing his attention, back on the road, making you roll your eyes at him.

Some minutes later you get a call from an unknown number you sigh, ignoring it, but it rings agains. So Nick tells you to pick it up thinking it might be important. “Hello?” “Baby doll, where the hell are you?” Steve demanded, his tone carrying a mix of irritation and false concern. Steve's voice took on a menacing tone as you remained silent, “Don't you dare hang up!” he threatened, his words laced with a threatening edge.

“Steve, please... leave me alone.” Your tone was filled with a mix of exhaustion and exasperation. The weight of his persistent presence and possessive behavior had taken its toll, leaving you yearning for the freedom to move on.

Nick kept an eye on you, along with driving carefully.

Steve's words carried an air of arrogance as he condescendingly asserted, “You're still my wife!” The audacity in his tone was matched only by his disregard for the pain he had caused.

You struggled to maintain your composure as Steve's words echoed in your ears, the memory of his infidelity and the betrayal it represented resurfacing with each syllable. Your voice wavered with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment, “Your wife? You lost that privilege when you cheated on me, Steve!”

Steve's tone turned even more demanding as he questioned, “Is that so? You're not going to obey me?” His presumption and entitlement irritated you, and you stood your ground firmly. “No!” you responded, your voice filled with determination and defiance. You would not bow to his manipulative attempts to regain control.

“You know... when Bucky left for London... he gave me a nice gift.” His words sent a shiver down your spine, hinting at something ominous. The mention of Bucky piqued your curiosity, but the sinister undertone of Steve's words made your stomach churn with unease. Your voice stuttered as you asked, “Wh... what are you talking about?”

“Bucky was kind enough to give me a video of you and him,” he taunted. “I was thinking if Lloyd and who's the other lady... oh yes, May, she works in your aunt's cafe, right? Maybe they'll appreciate Bucky's gift.”

“You are lying!” You yell on the call, making Nick stop the car on the side. “Oh, baby doll I’m not lying.” Steve laughs, before getting serious again, “Now we a good little housewife and come back to me!” “No no no no no no, please…” Steve ends the call and with your hands trembling, you drop the phone.

Nick was quick to hold your hands “y/n what did that bastard want?” “Y/n?”

As the weight of Steve's threat settled in, your world seemed to crumble. The panic rose within you, and your breath quickened. “No, no, no, no...” you repeatedly whispered, consumed by fear and disbelief. Your body trembled, and your mind raced with anxiety.

Nick, seeing your distress, reached out, gently placing his hand on your shoulder and attempting to ground you in the chaos, as he takes your hand and puts it on his chest. “Feel my heartbeats.” He spoke softly, his voice cutting through the whirlwind of your thoughts. “Hey, hey, breathe...” Nick implored, his tone firm yet soothing. His presence alone served as a lifeline, tethering you to reality amidst the storm.

With the echoes of panic subsiding, you found solace in Nick's comforting embrace. Confessing what Steve said, you sobbed, “I swear, Nick, I don't know anything about the video. I don't know what Bucky gave Steve...I swear. I..I..” The fear, confusion, and exhaustion overwhelmed you, and Nick's protective hold served as a reassuring presence, a safe haven in the midst of chaos.

As you clung to Nick, seeking comfort in his presence, he gently soothed you, his voice filled with understanding and compassion. “Shh, I believe you, okay?” he whispered, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “How about we head back home, and let me and Lloyd handle Steve? We're going to find a way to deal with this, I promise.”

Part 2 -

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

@differenttyphoonwerewolf @vicmc624 @thezombieprostitute @nekoannie-chan @emerald-writes

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@geeky-politics-46 @winterslove1917

@whore-for-chris-evans @caplanreblogsfics

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

My beautiful, stupid maid

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, slightly dark themes, Donna's POV

Word count: 5,080

Summary: I don't know why I don't want you to leave...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!! Requests are open!! I love you all!!!

I thought I like to be alone.

Everyone told me: you need some company. They don’t know me. My family, as they call themselves, care about me, or so they think they do. I don't need helpless maids running through the halls. I don't need to waste time on people I don't care about. My life doesn’t revolve around achieving power, around needing the feeling of being above others, like my siblings do.

I was always a lonely woman, and Mother Miranda's gift could change many things, but not that. Not that.

Angie was everything I needed.

I know what they think about me, what they talk about: “Poor Donna, she's so lonely…” “She's not mentally developed,” “she only cares about her stupid dolls…” Comments that they think I don't hear.

To be honest, I never cared about that. I know what I’m, what place in the world there was for me. My dolls, my house, my loneliness. Sometimes I lose my mind and cry without wanting to. Sometimes I want to end the meaninglessness that my life has become. Angie takes me away from those thoughts, she calms me down. I didn't need anything but to keep serene and continue existing.

At least I thought I didn't need anything else.

Then you showed up.

“Mother Miranda has granted me the honor of working for you, Lady Beneviento,” you said, appearing in my house, in my territory. In all this time, many villagers had been stupid enough to approach my house.

None of them returned. Thanks to the gift that was given to me, I could enjoy seeing the fear in their eyes, seeing how terrible their thoughts are. At first I had to admit that I was even afraid of myself.

The human mind is so fragile... How much people can suffer just with their own memories is incredible. For some reason, I didn't feel the need to torture you.

You seemed shy, but you didn't stop smiling, even with my fervent refusal. I couldn't disobey Mother Miranda, and I couldn't stop looking into those bright, strange eyes.

Angie was just a lost part of my consciousness, some thoughts that left my mind when I granted her the gift of life. She thought that for you to work for me was a good idea. Not me.

I didn't even know your name, but I opened the doors of my house to you. Who was I to argue with Mother Miranda's demands? Maybe I just got carried away with Angie.

I tried to avoid you. I didn't want to think that you were here, with me, that I was no longer alone. But you... You came to me, like a fly to a light trap, blinded, surely by your innocence, heading towards danger.

“Is everything to your liking, my lady?” “Would you like me to make you some tea, my lady?” Always those stupid questions. Hearing your voice was nothing but torture for me, a reminder that you were still there, that, no matter how much your presence bothered me, I was not capable of throwing you out or of making you hallucinate so you would run away from here, so you would never come back.

Silence was always my response, the affirmation that I didn't want you to be here. I have never had the ability or the need to talk to anyone, not even to my siblings. You were not going to be an exception.

My lady... What stupidity is that? I didn't want to be your lady. I didn't want you to consider yourself my property. I was alone, and I liked it.

Unfortunately, time only revealed your annoying presence. My routine is always the same and to trip with you was inevitable. I curse the Black Gods for turning my gaze towards yours.

What a maid... You were clumsy. You didn't know how to clean properly. You served no purpose other than to disrupt my existence. But I could never hurt you. It didn't matter how many vases you broke, how many times you burned the food. I felt incapable of scolding you, of throwing you out of my house.

Someday I woke up with the decision to put an end to that stuff, to make you suffer and disappear forever. Those thoughts faded the moment my hidden gaze met yours again.

That smile, those eyes... That messy hair and the dress that framed your figure made me back away, give you another chance. Chance? I didn't want you to be here. I never wanted you to come to my house. I didn't want to see your stupid smile. I didn't want to, and yet, I felt the need to see you.

Are you also a creation of Mother Miranda?

I know that she experiments on villagers, that she creates aberrations. Could you be one of them? What exactly has the Cadou done to you? Were you some kind of sorceress?

I've read too many books about witches, about mermaids who trick sailors into taking their souls. I always thought they were stupid stories to scare children. But the more I look at you, the more I think you're like a witch from those stories, or like a mermaid. Do you want to trick me into taking my soul? Too late, girl, it's been a long time since I had a soul.

“Good morning, my lady, did you sleep well?” you asked every morning. My ability to ignore you faltered over time. Anyway, I couldn't lose anything by nodding.

That was my worst mistake, making you believe that I was somehow communicating with you. That small gesture gave you more confidence in yourself. It made you believe that you could annoy me even more.

One night I tried to relax, sit by the fireplace and read another of those mermaid stories. Suddenly, I felt the need to know more about these creatures. Somehow, I was afraid that you were one of them. That the movement my head made, forcing me to follow you with my gaze, was some kind of spell from you.

“Excuse me, my lady,” you said to me, with the nerve to put a hand on my shoulder. I was startled, but I knew how to hide it so you wouldn't notice.

I nodded for you to talk, even though I didn't want you to, what is happening to me?

“I'm a bit bored, I was wondering if you could recommend me a book,” you said with your hands together in front of your body, with that formality that I knew you didn't have.

I was thoughtful for a moment. My hands shook as they held Homer's Odyssey. Your mermaid song was not going to be able to defeat me, you stupid maid.

“A book?” I asked without realizing it, letting out my voice, a voice that I hadn't used for a long time and that I didn't want to use precisely with you. I had to calm down, or you would trick me.

“Yes, well... Books about plants are interesting but...” You said, looking away from my hateful gaze.

Did you mean to joke? What made you think you could joke with me? Moron.

“I've been looking for something a bit more entertaining but I can't find anything. Also, most of them are in Italian and I… Well, I can’t read them.”

I shook my head. Fortunately, you couldn't see my face. A smile involuntarily spread across it.

“My family was Italian,” I said in a hoarse voice, giving her an absurd explanation, which she certainly didn’t deserve.

“Oh, okay,” you whispered nervously.

Why were you nervous? Oh, sure... In these three months and five days you hadn't heard me speak. I have a horrible voice, right? I'm sure you hate me even more now. Everybody hates me.

The light from the fireplace rested on your face, dancing in your eyes, on your skin. Have you hypnotized me? I couldn’t stop looking at you.

I sighed listlessly, looking for an excuse for your eyes to stop enchanting me. I got up from the couch, looking for something that would keep you entertained, quiet. Your voice is beautiful, but I don't want to hear it. Beautiful?

“For whom the bell tolls... Ernest Hemingway,” you said when I finally gave you a book so you would leave me alone. You just had to take the damn book and get out of my sight. It wasn't that difficult, was it? “It’s a good one?”

“Yes, it is,” I responded with a dry throat, nervous about the subtle contact my hand made brushing against yours. When I touched you, the porcelain of my dolls came to my mind. Soft, delicate…

“Thank you, I promise that tomorrow I won't burn the toast,” you said amused, were you trying to make me laugh? Good luck with that.

Something had changed in your attitude. I wondered if hearing me talk had anything to do with it. I didn't want you to be here. I hate you, stupid maid.

Time passed slowly. I found myself counting the days, the hours you spent with me. Your overconfidence was disgusting. Some nights, you sat next to me, reading that book, commenting each of the things that seemed curious to you. I have already read it, you silly maid. I don't need to hear your... Your beautiful voice.

I've never been right in the head, I know that. Since I was little I had problems. Problems with my appearance, with people... I have never gotten over it and I never will. My past is a field of thorns that stick into my skin every night when I try to sleep.

But... My demons were not keeping me awake, your eyes were, those two beautiful pearls that you had on your face, ones that I couldn't stop looking at. What are you doing to me? What is happening to me? I feel weak, tired. I'm not hungry, I'm not sleepy. I don't feel like getting out of my bed, to face your gaze again.

Sitting at my old dressing table, I look at my deformed face in a mirror. I'm a monster. I should have gotten used to seeing myself like that, to having that horrible thing on my face, just as I got used to the changes in my body when I became Mother Miranda's daughter.

I felt my heart sink as I looked at myself in that mirror. A deformed monster, a strange creature, an aberration. Those statements that were going through my head were more present than ever.

“What's wrong, Donna?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap. My sweet and faithful Angie, I don't know what I would have done without you.

“I'm a monster, Angie,” I murmured, with a tear running down my untouched cheek. I can't tell how many times I have burst into tears because of that. That night was different.

“No, no, that's not true,” the doll said. I wish I could believe her words. Angie was my creation. She was part of my consciousness. She would never hurt me... I don't even know what Angie is exactly anymore. “The maid likes you…”

“What?” I said startled.

I know Angie wanted to make me feel better, but she was never particularly good at it.

She couldn't lie to me. She didn't have the ability to do so.

Do you like me? What nonsense. I know you don’t. I know it's impossible. Anyway…why am I worried? Why I didn’t stop thinking about those words?

Love is a luxury that I could never enjoy. Loving a woman, being loved... Those were just fantasies in my head, a fictitious feeling that, like mermaids, only lived in my books.

Every day I kept seeing your stupid… Beautiful… Smile. You were still here, you hadn't left. I couldn't say when I started to worry about you leaving. I didn’t want you to be here but... I didn't want you to leave. I had never felt so many contradictions at the same time. I had never suffered so many anxiety attacks in the safety of my room.

You never saw me lose my temper. I didn't want you to see me like that. For some reason, I didn't want to.

I tried to push you away, but you were getting closer, touching me with your dress, touching my hand when you handed me a cup of tea. Were you really the one who did it? Was my hand subtly caressing your skin? It didn't seem to bother you either.

You were still here, like every day, torturing me with your eyes, with your smile, with your movements when you walked near me. Your gaze was tender and respectful, but your body wasn’t. Your body caused sensations that I always ignored in me.

“That doll is beautiful, Donna,” you whispered, taking my tea to the workshop. That place was always a refuge, the only place in the house where my thoughts were not focused on you.

“Thank you,” I said. To let my voice speak for me didn’t take long. I had been doing it for so long that I no longer stopped to think why it wasn't difficult for me to do it with you.

“Look, it has my eyes,” you said amused, gently picking up the newly made doll.

A heaviness in my head said there was something wrong. Yes, you were right. That damn doll had your beautiful eyes. Wait, shouldn't I say: That beautiful doll had your damn eyes?

“Yes, well, I...” I stammered, confused. I hadn't even realized it. Even without thinking about you, I was doing it. Even when I made my dolls, I put your same hair to them, your eyes, the marks that I could see on your skin… I was no longer safe even in my own workshop.

“It's very nice,” you whispered, returning the doll to me with a sigh. “Anyway, I think I should start making the soup… You liked it with a bit of dill, right?”

“Yes... I... Yes, yes,” I stammered, nodding, but without looking at your face. I was just looking at the doll, at your vivid portrait made unconsciously. I could no longer deny how obsessed I was with you, that I thought about you even without doing it.

I refused to believe it was love or anything like that. At night I tossed and turned in bed, thinking about what spell you had used on me. Your eyes stopped appearing in my nightmares, and now they were present in my most beautiful dreams. In them I see you, I see us together, close, with our hands intertwined. They were just dreams... Dreams in which I don't have that horrible thing on my face, in which your eyes shine when you look at me, in which your lips... In which your lips are too close to mine.

I felt unable to ignore the sensations that the mere fact of being close to you caused me. Love is something absurd, a waste of time. Everyone wants to hurt you, Donna, don't forget that.

My head fought with my heart, with the trembling of my hands when I was close to yours. You always were here with that smile, with that look, making me unable to think about anything but in your lips on mine, in your body very close to mine.

The nights got worse. Drawing your image in my thoughts usually helped me to stay calm and sleep, dreaming about you. Not anymore. I can no longer let myself be carried away by my feelings. The sensations were different, physical, overwhelming. I no longer imagined your smile, or a simple kiss. No, now your body was naked next to mine, now my caresses no longer wandered over your face, but over your chest, your waist, your legs…

Lust is a sin, or so my parents said. I was never ignorant, or stupid. My body had needs, and even more so after the change that Cadou produced in me. I thought it was routine, something necessary...

One more task to be calm, to relax. My mind traveled to unknown places, imagining faceless women while I soothed myself with my hands. It was pleasant, but empty, lacking in feelings or the desire to do it. I simply wanted to relieve my body so that my mind wouldn't become destabilized.

That night, my body was calling me again. No matter how much I tried to get my excitement to relax, I wasn't able to do so. I wanted something, my body wanted something, and I had to give that to it.

My hands moved down my nightclothes to my trembling erection, stroking it gently. Maybe it was my impression, but I could feel much more than other times... The difference? There were no longer faceless women in my head or erotic stories hidden in one of my books. I was thinking about you.

I felt the need to end that discomfort between my legs as quickly as possible and for some reason, I thought that including you in my lascivious thoughts might help. Quite the opposite. The pleasure of my hand going up and down, the gasps that came out of my mouth involuntarily made me want to go slower. I wanted to keep thinking about what it would be like to be inside of you, to hear you moan with your mermaid voice, to see you closing those bright eyes while I made you mine.

My movements were fast, but intense. My head was imagining how good it would feel to have the images in my head come true. To release myself didn't take long, but I felt I enjoyed doing it too much.

Cleaning myself in the bathroom, I looked the mirror again. My face was red and my breathing was labored. I wiped my hands with a towel and stood there, looking at my reflection, feeling a pang in my heart at the thought that everything I dream of were just fantasies.

I felt guilty for enjoying myself at your expense, for masturbating thinking about you, but... I also felt frustrated by how absurd was to think about how far my feelings had gone. So much so that I lost the little decency I had, the deal I made with myself not to fall in love, not to feel the need to hug a human body instead of a porcelain doll.

In my incipient desperation, I called my sister Alcina, telling her everything that was happening to me. Angie gave me nothing but absurd advices. I needed the opinion of someone more... Experienced.

It was of no use to me. According to her, my need to make that stupid maid mine was absurd. “You are a powerful woman, Donna. If you want something from that girl, just take it. She will never contradict you, for her own sake.”

Everything was so easy for a woman like Alcina...

A dark part of my mind seriously considered following her advice. I never felt remorse for torturing those stupid villagers, why would I feel remorse for taking what I want to make mine?

But no, that part of me that I'm ashamed of had to shut up. I couldn't just… No, I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it, but I wanted to. I wanted you in an unbearable way.

The nights were torture, the days were even worse. At least at night I just had to imagine you, I didn't have to feel you, I didn't have to touch your hand. Yes, you kept rubbing your hand with mine. Have you ever done that? It was me? I wouldn't know how to answer. I would like to ask you, but I don't dare to do it.

You are killing me, you stupid, beautiful maid. You kill me slowly, you make me fall in love with you without mercy, you look at me, you talk to me... You are here with me. I’m here with you. You don't want to leave. I don't want you to leave.

One afternoon, I tried to escape from my carnal desires, from the feelings that filled my head. I was painting dolls, sewing without rest. I had been doing it for hours, I didn't know how many.

“Sorry for bothering you,” you said politely, entering disrespectfully, interrupting my bitterness.

“What do you want? I'm busy,” my words were cold, lacking that softness with which they always spoke to you.

“I'm sorry, it's just that... It's just that I... I have to clean this up. It's the last room before being able to rest,” you said shyly. Was it me or your cheeks were blushing? What were you thinking about? You were thinking about another way to fool me? Stop it. You've already done it. I feel that if I were a sailor, I would already be drifting, desperately searching to hear your siren song again.

“Okay,” I said briefly, avoiding your tender smile, looking at that doll, looking at your eyes on it again.

As you moved around my workshop, my clumsy and trembling hands made the task of painting correctly impossible. With you here, to concentrate was impossible for me.

My thoughts began to spin out of control as I tilted my head to look at you. There you were, leaning over one of the dusty tables. You looked at me, like you knew I was doing the same thing. I looked away and squeezed my hands tightly.

If you want something from her, just take it.

The phrase my sister said appeared in my head suddenly, treacherously, just at the moment when my crazy gaze was directed at the small spot that you had very close to your neckline. One I couldn't forget.

My actions took control of my body, causing me to get up slowly, like a shadow that stalks you without realizing it.

I wanted to tell you so many things... I wanted to be able to talk to you about my feelings before approaching you from behind, running a hand through your hair, brushing it away from your shoulders.

You stood still, but you didn't complain, you didn't turn around and slap me for my impudence. No, you seemed like butter under my touch, under my hands on your shoulders, on your neck.

An unexpected gasp left your lips as I got closer and closer, feeling your subtle but intoxicating perfume, feeling the heat of your body passing through my dress.

“I can't stop thinking about you...” I whispered without meaning to, confessing an undeniable truth, confessing that you are not the stupid maid that I didn’t want to have. You were the girl I wanted to love.

“Donna...” You sighed, when I removed the veil from my face to place my lips on your pale skin, behind your perfect ear.

When I started to be just Donna to you? What about the my lady thing?

Kissing your skin was like a cold breeze on a hot day, like laughing when you're sad. It was a feeling of relief, of pleasure.

Even being behind you, I could feel your heavy breathing. What did you feel? Were you in hell or in paradise?

I couldn't know and I didn't want to know. My hands worked on their own, covering every inch of your body while my mouth was cruel to your neck.

Having your chest in my hands, passing my fingers through the fabric that covered your breasts... All that things I imagined at night were mine in that moment. A part of my conscience was screaming for me to stop, to be sure that you wanted to do it. No, dear maid, I wasn’t going to ask.

You turned around slowly, letting my hands continue roaming your body. You weren't supposed to do that. You were supposed to run away.

“I think about you too...” You whispered, moving my black veil aside. There was nothing to fear anymore. You would be with me or you would disappear from my life. My face didn't matter. I didn’t care if you thought I was a monster. I was willing to force you.

Your smile remained tender, relaxed at the sight of my exposed face. There was no horror in your eyes, disgust in your gaze. No, there was only… Peace, tranquility, and that smile that kept me awake at nights.

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined,” you said, bringing your hand to my deformed cheek, running your fingers over my scar, as if it were nothing, as if it were of no importance to you.

I grabbed your wrist to stop you before leaning towards you, before placing my lips on yours. I had never kissed anyone and I was thankful I hadn't. Your kiss was my first one.

Little by little I moved closer, making your back collide with the edge of the table. I couldn't stop kissing you. I didn't want to stop kissing you. Your lips were addictive. They were everything I had imagined. Your body against mine, your hands going down my waist, you and me...

I could no longer contain my desire to make you mine, to love you, to make love you. I was willing to force you to do it, to not listen to your screams, to make you run away. I didn't have to. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who rubbed my hands with yours. You did it too.

My need to love you was put before romance, caresses, kisses and affectionate whispers in your ear. I had spent too much time thinking about how I felt about you. I didn't want to tell you, I wanted to show you.

I lifted your body by your legs, sitting you on the table, drowning in your kisses, letting my hands touch whatever they wanted... Just like yours. I felt like such a simple act was more than enough to feel my arousal rubbing against my underwear. You were irresistible, a goddess, a mermaid, a witch... But above all, you were going to be mine.

I looked at you, wishing it wasn't a dream and you were really there. You smiled again. What have you done to me? What did I do to you? Have you fooled me? Have I tricked you? Did you also think of me as if I were a mermaid?

Absurd questions that my body didn't have time for. I needed you, my beautiful maid. With a hasty movement, I put my hands into your dress while you hung around my neck, making to concentrate on loving you harder for me, kissing me eagerly, with a desire that I was unaware of.

Your underwear disappeared around your ankles as your hands left my neck, to play on my chest, to free me from my own clothes. Were you in a hurry as I was?

When I finally had access to you, my body moved on its own, lifting your legs slightly, remaining enthralled by those hidden corners of your body.

 You didn't say anything about what was between my legs. You just looked at it curiously. I don't like being looked at, tesoro, you should know that.

You bit your lip, but you didn't say anything. You just pulled me so that my erection rubbed against your wetness. There was nothing else to say, but there were a lot of things to do.

I entered you hastily, feeling a wave of unimaginable pleasure. I was not delicate, nor kind. I didn't know if someone had ever loved you, I didn't want to know either. Your walls hugged me tightly, keeping me right where you wanted, making you moan in a way that I already knew would drive me crazy.

You had more clothes than in my dreams, but the sensations you sent to my body every time they moved exceeded my expectations. You hugged me so well... You took it so well... You were perfect, as if your body was made just for me.

“Don't stop, Donna...” You begged, writhing on that table. My thrusts had relaxed as I looked at you, as I closely admired your beauty without the veil between us. I just shook my head, kissing you passionately as my hips resumed their movements.

“I think... I think I love you...” I whispered with a voice low enough so you couldn't hear it, camouflaging it between our moans. There came a time when I decided to close my eye and not look at you anymore.

Behind you, the dolls that I made rested, looking at me. They were judging me. I wasn't going to let my problems ruin that moment. My sick mind was not going to stop me from continuing to make love to you.

“My God, Donna... I'm so close...” You murmured, ignoring my declaration of love. Why would I want you to answer me? I said it in a way I which you wouldn't hear me.

My hips went out of control and my arms hugged your body, keeping it close to me, not letting you stop hugging me with your walls, not letting me stop making my way inside of you.

I stopped just when the pleasure became unbearable, letting my heat flood inside you, releasing myself inside you, making you mine forever.

You panted, exhausted. Your nails had scratched my skin as I cum. Did that mean you did it too?

“I think... I think I love you too,” you murmured, responding late to my statement, to my confession, hugging me, kissing me with affection, with that affection that I lacked.

“Don’t dare to leave,” I said with a dark voice, before consuming myself again in your kisses.

“I won't do it,” you answered on my lips, keeping me inside of you, not wanting to separate you from me.

I thought I liked being alone, but now I know I couldn't live without you.

[munchkinmarauder]

Let's talk Magneto's letter!

I'm not marking this as spoilers because we've probably all seen the panels from Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver floating around the internet at this point (but I do apologise if I do accidentally spoil it for someone - take this as your warning to scroll past and not read this post).

So after many months of speculation as to what the letter could be and if it has big reveals the contents of the letter is not a lore changing or retcon inducing reveal but .... Drum roll please.... that Magneto thinks the twins should stay apart, that they are dangerous together (particularly that Pietro is dangerous to Wanda and Wanda coddles Pietro) and that Pietro should have stayed dead after Magneto murdered him.

Wow isn't Maggie father of the year? What a girldad!

Jokes aside and let's get this out of the way because I know a lot of the Magneto is right crowd have been calling for Orlando's head over this character assassination or trying to argue Magneto is in fact right about the twins (despite the story and the twins themselves saying otherwise) - Magneto being an abusive douchbag to his kids is the norm, we only have 60 years of their relationship in the 616 verse alone to prove this. Yes there is nuance to this that makes it all very interesting, one of the most interesting dynamics in Marvel, and I personally never expected to hear Magneto saying the silent part out loud because I do think cannon shows that he loves all his kids Pietro included (but is incapable of loving them the way a parent should), but this is simply an over exaggeration and not out of character. Its no surprise he says this to his son. It's also of note that Magneto never actually intended for the twins to see the letter or Storm would have given it to Wanda when she visited in SW#2 to deliver the news of Magneto's passing, it might have been Magneto trying to work out some feelings and opinions rather than protect them as he claims (cause again he didn't actually intend for anyone to see the letter, he sealed it shut in a box). He is justified in feeling frustrated that his last words were weaponised against his children (lol Mags being like how dare my own hurtful words were used to hurt my kids - no one hurts them but me)

Magneto is one of those genderbended boymoms that is jealous of their daughter and views then as competition. Only in this case it is with his son and the competition is for Wanda's affections. The fact is, Magneto is always going to loose that fight and he knows it.

The more I think about it the more I like that this letter wasn't a big reveal (though I'm sure the recton everyone is hoping for will come some day -I'm glad it wasn't today) but something that played into the themes of this series. Their father, the Wizard and the Giver are all saying the twins should stay apart and the story and the twins say no and prove them wrong. A lot of the twins greatest feats are reactive and evolving, tying back to the red queen hypothesis mentioned in issue 4.

On a side note if the Giver really wanted to deal with the twins she should have gone to dear old daddy Mags and he would have nipped that problem in the bud in a jiffy seeing as he and the giver are of a like mind when it comes to the twins. Technically you just need to get rid of one of them seeing as the Givers worry is about the twins together but let's see what the new Scarlet Witch solo has to say about that (I hope Pietro's role in this isn't forgotten but you can never tell with Marvel)

What the letter is is a classic case of a narcissist parent setting up a golden child and scape goat dynamic. Seeking to isolate the twins from each other. It's very clear he's self projecting onto his son (and Lorenzo Tammetta deliberately emphasises the similaries the two have in appearance to drive this fact home) and blaming Pietro for moments that happened that can apply to himself and are in fact caused by his actions for example his willingness to abandon his daughter to die and murder of his son in HoM. Both the major trigger points for the creation of the HOM verse and no more mutants. I'm not saying Magneto is souly to blame here but he does have a big contribution to what happens that he never has taken accountability for (along with the X-Men who play as victims and the avengers who did own up to what they did but otherwise keep silent about the blame the twins get from the X-Men).

A lot has been said about the impact of the letter on Pietro and I don't think I can add much more other than to emphasise how crushing that has be to hear from a parent and abuser even if you hate them. The twins helped each other survive for a very long time and we're each others everything parent, twins, best friend, protector, etc. You've spent time and energy and dedicated a portion of your life to protecting someone to the degree of making it your reason for living for a long time (please note I am not saying this is a healthy mindset for Pietro- hes taken it too far sometimes) and in a hypocritical tyraid are told it's all for nothing. Pietro handles it really well and comes out this with his head held high. Reacting calmly, expressing his love for his sister and throwing Magneto's words back at him. I think as a Quicksilver fan we can be reasonably happy with this outcome (but I do understand some fans frustration to hear Quicksilver be degraded that way and told he's bad for Wanda while she gets forced to interact with men that did treat her like shit like Vision and Magneto - however the point is that Magneto is WRONG and Wanda herself reiterates this point).

Now the one person who's screwed over by the writing and out of character in that scene is WANDA. Sure she tells Magneto he is wrong but that gentle response (even if she does react with a degree of unhappiness to see Magneto back) and effort to be neutral is so odd for her given that she sent the Wizard to a hell dimension for hurting her brother a few pages prior and has been even more vocal than Pietro in calling her father out in the past. She's as protective of her brother as he is her and I can't believe she would be written as a daddies girl and standby while a man who abused them both continues to abuse her brother.

The contents of the letter is also not great for Wanda. And I would argue is a subtler abuse tactic. Like a lot of the focus is rightly on how shitty it was for Magneto to say what he did in his letter to Pietro but we're also not considering the the negative implications it has for Wanda as well. Wanda has been working to establish herself as independent and not defined by the men in her life for so long and here is her "father", infantalising her and saying he knows better than her about her own life and what keeps her safe, that is seeking to take away from her the one pillar of support she's always had and one of if not the important relationship to her, a lot of Wanda's lowest moments did happen when Pietro wasn't even around, when everyone including Magneto abandoned her, her brother was there. The twins do have a codependency and that codependency does have it's toxic elements, Magneto touches on it but doesn't go into detail. Wanda is codasended to and told she is "coddling" her brother and everything else is Pietro's fault. The letter is worse for Pietro but it's shitty for Wanda too, she is a grown woman& a mother here is a man that abused her talking down to her, saying he knows best for her and her opinions are wrong, seeking to isolate her and undermining her authority.

The twins are right for saying Magneto is wrong but wish Wanda would get more angry at this undermining. Maybe like Pietro she is just very jaded and tired of the whole thing with Magneto. These words would be upsetting if they didn't in their own way love their father too as fucked up as it all is.

Now to be fair - does Magneto's letter have any merit? That isn't to easy to answer but in the interests of equal analysis let's try!

So I think one think that Magneto touches on but doesn't go into or outright say is the twins codependancy. He is a few years late to the party but he's been dead and their not dad for a while so well give him a small amount of leeway in his old age. I don't think the twins codependency is necessary a wholly bad thing but it does have it's nagative elements and in some cases has held the twins back. If we are to adopt a charitable approach her Magneto in his own twisted and emotionally constipated way may be trying to encourage the twins to be independent, to discourage his son from defining his self worth around his ability to protect his sister. Ofc I am reaching a bit here as Magneto could have just said this (though we'll never see the full contents of the letter - both Wanda and Mags may be summerising the worst parts of it) and done so in a way that wasnt cruel.

I also do believe that Magneto in writing those words to a degree did believe or convinced himself that he was not writing those words out of Malice and that it was an attempt to protect the twins (though I will reiterate how much it was actually intended to protect them when Magneto didn't actually intend for the twins to see the letter but at least he owns up to the fact he did write those words). In his mind he was being cruel to be kind but the narrative makes it clear that even if he had "good" intentions - he is nevertheless still fundamentally misunderstanding his children and self projecting onto his son. I'm not mad about this -its in character and I feel this letter is set up for a longer plot thread and I hope it's explored but let's see!

It certainly makes me feel that Pietro's lack of mention in RoM was extremely deliberate as was his lack of appearance in last week's FoX issue despite his cameo in the previous one to save the Magneto and Pietro reunion for this comic (the Xoffice are collaborative)

Is the writing for this scene perfect? no! Is Magneto potentially a tad one note? Yes but being a dick to his kids is in character and it's unsubtle but sometimes it needs to be.

[drabblesandsnippets]

The Bet

Hot Bucky Summer - Week 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “Louder, let everyone hear you.” | [Screaming/Noisy Sex | Gangbang | Exhibiotionism] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k words) Bucky’s girlfriend thinks she can stay quiet during sex - Bucky’s more than happy to prove her wrong.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Praise. Brief mention of insecurities. Dirty talk. Domination. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV.

---------------------------

“Wait,” Bucky says, reaching for the remote yet again. “Why does she even care? I thought she hated him.”

Bucky and his girlfriend are cuddling on their king-sized bed, enjoying another quiet night at home - something their friends like to tease them about, but they’ll never change. Home is where all their favorite things are. 

The moment Bucky pauses the show - for what feels like the hundredth time since they started the episode - she buries her face against his chest, her groan slightly muffled by his shirt.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes her body as he asks, “What? I’m trying to understand!”

She picks her head up to glare at him, only slightly frustrated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “You’d understand if we started from the beginning instead!”

She’s been trying to get him to watch her favorite show for months now, and when he randomly suggested they watch the latest episode tonight, she wasn’t going to argue.

She’s regretting that now.

For someone as intelligent as Bucky, he’s oblivious to the inner workings of TV drama.

Bucky blinks slowly at her response, his eyes wide like she just said they should’ve gone to Sam’s impromptu karaoke party. And then he lets out an incredulous laugh, quick to point out, “There are ten seasons of this show! By the time we get caught up, there will be at least five more.” 

Her mouth opens in surprise, and she pushes herself up, one hand on his stomach, her other hand moving to her chest like he’s just wounded her.

“First of all, there are six seasons.” Bucky playfully groans in response, the pout on her face telling him exactly where she’s going with this. “And even if there were ten seasons, you wouldn’t want to watch them with me?”

“Okay.” Bucky’s laughter reaches his eyes as he tosses the remote to the side - it’s clear he’s not going to be pressing play anytime soon.

He looks adoringly at his girlfriend as he sits up with her, his gaze never wavering. “Doll. Sweetheart. Love of my life. I’d enjoy watching paint dry with you.” 

Her smile almost breaks through, but she holds back, patiently waiting for him to continue. He’s either about to make too much sense, or he’s about to dig the hole deeper. 

After a soft, dramatic sigh, he gently tells her, “But, we haven’t even gotten through this episode, and it’s already been over an hour.”

The moment he says it, he has to hold back his laughter, her response exactly what he’s expecting.

Her mouth drops open again, and she laughs at the ridiculous notion that she’s to blame for their time-management issues.

With a quick shake of her head, and resisting the urge to poke him, she quickly points out, “You keep pausing to ask questions!” 

The moment the words are out of her mouth, Bucky seems almost too eager to remind her of several moments that had nothing to do with him. Sure, he’s partly to blame, but most of the interruptions had nothing to do with him.

Like during the first five minutes when she kept getting up because she forgot something. Or when she had to search a familiar looking actor.

“Or,” Bucky continues, his tone gentle, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “When you swore you’d heard that one song before-.” 

She cuts Bucky off before he can finish the last thought, shoving one of the pillows in his face, his hands quickly deflecting it.

“I get it!” she says, laughing with him as he pulls the pillow away from her before she can attempt to hit him with it again.

His slightly raised eyebrow tells her he’s waiting to see if she’s going to try to defend herself.

“Fine,” she relents, giving him another exaggerated pout that makes him grin. “I guess no marathons for us then.”

She glances at the TV where the episode is still paused before turning her attention back to Bucky, her own grin growing. “At least,” she starts, her eyebrow raising suggestively. “No marathons of the TV variety.”

Bucky laughs, a surge of arousal rushing over him at the mere suggestion, but has to shake his head, the disappointment clear on his face.

With a pointed look, he reminds her, “Sam’s down the hall.”

Sam materialized on their doorstep a couple of days ago to stake claim to their guestroom once again, this time while in the city for a friend’s birthday. 

There hadn’t been any objections at the time - and there aren’t any now, as far as Bucky’s concerned.

He really doesn’t care if Sam hears them having sex. It’s not like Bucky’s never overheard him before. But Bucky knows his girlfriend. If she thinks Sam might have heard her, it’ll take her weeks before she’ll be able to be in the same room as him without turning red. 

She’s not thinking about any of that, though.

It’s been a few days since there’s even been an opportunity for them to get lost in each other, and she doesn’t want to waste this one.

With a smile and a slight shrug, she simply says, “So? I can be quiet.” 

Bucky’s bark of laughter rings out, and she narrows her eyes at him. Before she can even think about it, he quickly grabs the pillow still sitting between them so she can’t throw it at him and instead flings it to the side, making her laugh. 

“What?” she asks, still feeling confident in her words. “I can be!”

“No,” Bucky says, trying to hold back his laughter as he shakes his head at her. The simple refusal of her statement makes her lips part in a surprised exhale, but before she can make an argument, he adds, “You are entirely incapable of being quiet, doll.”

He can’t help but lean just a bit closer to whisper, “Especially with me.” 

That feels like a challenge to her. And even though she knows Bucky is probably right, she can’t just give in. She’s just as stubborn as he is, and she knows exactly how to play this.

With a quick flick of her tongue to wet her lips, she leans towards him, their mouths almost close enough to touch, and asks, “Wanna bet?”

Her question has the desired effect, causing Bucky’s stomach to flutter with a rush of excitement. She’s a strong, confident, capable woman, and there’s almost nothing she can’t do, especially once she puts her mind to it.

But, there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’ll have her screaming by the end of the night.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, his eyes glancing at her mouth as he starts to close the short distance.

Her hope to feel his lips on hers fades quickly, though, Bucky pausing to grin at her, needing to set the terms of their deal first. 

“When you lose, we’re finally getting that swing.” 

For the briefest of moments, she hesitates. The idea of a sex swing excites her, and it’s something they’ve been discussing for months - even going so far as to choose their favorite - but the intimidating feeling of being on display like that has never faded.

Bucky’s only ever made her feel beautiful, and sexy, and desirable, but that doesn’t mean he can completely erase decades' worth of insecurities. 

Bucky doesn’t rush her, not with something like this. He’ll give her all the time in the world to decide if this is a bet she’s willing to take. And if she decides she’s not ready, then he’ll accept that without hesitation, no matter how much he wants her to say yes. 

The anticipation is short lived though, because a smile spreads across her face and before she even says, “deal” he’s already hard, imagining how incredible she’ll look suspended and tied up for him, completely at his mercy.

There are so many possibilities, and the sooner he wins, the sooner he gets to make them all a reality.

Her lashes flutter when Bucky’s hand moves along her scalp, his fingers sliding through her hair to softly grip the strands. She allows him tilt her head back, putting her in the perfect position for him to finally kiss her, and she tries to remain patient. 

It doesn’t matter, though, because after just a soft brush of his lips against hers, he’s pulling away again, the grin on his face causing her to let out a frustrated sigh.

As much as Bucky wants to just jump right into this with her, the faint taste of her on his lips making his cock twitch, he’s taking this bet seriously. 

He meets her gaze, holding her head steady, and says, “We gotta set some ground rules first.”

She breathes heavily but doesn’t move, waiting for him to continue, wanting this just as much as he does.

“No covering your mouth,” he tells her, increasing the hold of her hair, making her gasp softly.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way her thighs tense with arousal, and he groans softly, pulling her closer so his lips brush across the corner of her mouth. “That includes no biting me.” 

She lets out a soft exhale of a laugh, but doesn’t object, no matter how much she enjoys sinking her teeth into him when he’s fucking her hard.

And considering this bet and what’s at stake here, there are no plans to go slow tonight. 

With a slight nod of her head, his fingers limiting her movement, she agrees, but she’s unable to stop herself from still being a bit of a brat. “Is that all?”

Bucky pulls back, narrowing his eyes at her, his breathing slowing down as he fights the urge to smile. He loves when she pushes back - it’s her way of telling him not to go easy on her. 

“No,” he answers her, his vibranium hand suddenly coming up to wrap around her throat.

The brief flash of surprise that crosses her face is quickly replaced by a look of pure desire, her trust in him radiating off of her. It encourages him to keep going, his need for her reaching new heights.

“You’re also not allowed to tell me to stop just because you can’t be quiet.”

Her body tingles with pleasure, just like it always does when he takes charge, and she has to bite back a moan as the ache between her thighs intensifies.

She’s playing with fire, but all it does is excite her, even as she briefly wonders if she has an ounce of a chance of winning this bet. 

The moment he asks if she agrees to the terms, she answers without hesitation, telling him, “Yes.”

With a cheeky grin, she adds, “And I look forward to winning.”

That’s all Bucky needs to hear and he pulls her against him, crashing his mouth against hers, his tongue immediately demanding entrance.

With his hand around her throat and his fingers gripping her hair, he keeps her in place so he can kiss her, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.

As much as Bucky enjoys taking his time with her, he’s on a mission tonight.

There’s a primal urge to claim her, to prove how quickly he can make her lose control. And there’s no doubt that he’s going to win this bet.

Within just a couple minutes, Bucky has her naked and writhing underneath him, her head resting on a pillow.

His lips follow a slow trail from her neck to her breasts, taking a moment to focus on her sensitive nipples, giving them both the attention they deserve, his ears trained on the soft noises of pleasure already leaving her. 

Her hands never leave his body, needing something to hold onto to keep her focus, her fingers gently tugging at his hair while her other hand grabs at his shoulder, pressing against the defined muscle.

She’s already having to force herself to take slow, deep breaths, the occasional shift of hips causing his hard cock to tease along her wetness, making her want to beg for more.

She remains as quiet as possible though, her eyes drifting closed as Bucky’s mouth travels lower, taking his time to place tender kisses all over her soft stomach, reminding her how much he loves every single inch of her.

He doesn’t even care that she’s not looking at him right now. He’s just grateful for the way she gives herself to him, trusting him to treat her like she deserves.

With one last glance up, Bucky eagerly settles between her thighs, the smell of her filling his nostrils, making his mouth water.

The soft groan that leaves him makes her hips twitch, and he pauses for a second to take her in, both hands coming up to keep her spread wide for him.

She’s already so wet, the sight of her swollen clit just begging to be licked, and he can’t wait to hear her come apart for him.

The first slow swipe of his tongue along her slit causes her body to tense, the sudden sensation making her breath hitch, almost making her forget all about the bet.

Bucky learned her body so quickly when they first became intimate, and now, the familiar swirl of his tongue around her clit immediately makes her back arch, a moan getting trapped in her throat.

He loves the taste of her, happy to spend as much time between her thighs as she lets him, and even though that’s not what tonight is about, he still takes a moment to appreciate the delicious meal she’s offering him.

He alternates between long licks, and fucking her with his tongue, grinding his soft beard against her pussy to get as deep as he can, as if starved for more of her. 

Despite Bucky’s own noises of pleasure getting louder, hers remain low, and it’s not long before the desire to hear her scream builds inside of him again.

Without warning, his mouth suddenly closes over her clit, his tongue resuming the perfect rhythm against the bundle of nerves and his hands grips her thighs, holding her in place.

She cuts off the harsh gasp that spills out of her, and her fingers tighten their grip on his hair as her hips move against his mouth, chasing her pleasure.

Despite half her focus on keeping her sounds under control, he’s still able to quickly bring her to the edge, and her other hand grips the bedsheet as the tension suddenly snaps.

As much as it turns Bucky on to watch her and feel her come for him, there’s something wrong about not hearing her as she loses control.

He refuses to pull away though, his mouth working her through her orgasm, his hands holding her, letting her ride out the waves. His own hips grinding against the mattress, his cock hard and heavy, aching for relief.

When she becomes too sensitive, he takes pity on her and quickly kisses back up her body, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Her need for him is too overwhelming though, and within seconds, she meets him in a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue. 

She doesn’t allow herself to get lost in the moment for too long, her body craving more, and she reaches between them, her fingers wrapping around his thick cock, ready to remind him that she still has a chance of winning this bet. 

Bucky welcomes her touch, his hips thrusting forward, groaning against her mouth.

She takes advantage of his pleasure-filled state, rubbing her thumb across the head of his cock, the tip slick with his arousal, and proudly states, “I told you I could be quiet.” 

The laugh he makes in return sends a shiver down her back, and she can barely quiet the soft squeak as he pulls her hand away, his fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist.

He’s always careful not to cause her any real discomfort, but the look he gives her still makes her freeze, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky chuckles, slowly pinning her hands over her head as he starts to grind his cock against her. “We’re barely getting started.”

Her body tenses in anticipation, expecting him to thrust inside of her, but he doesn’t change his pace, his eyes taking in how beautiful she looks, all desperate and needy, her skin flushed.

Even after all this time with him, she’s still not used to all the attention he gives her, and she’s grateful that he allows her to move with him.

Each shift of her hips makes her breath quicken just a bit more, the length of his cock sliding along her clit, and she’s pretty sure she could come just like this. 

The thought of it makes her body pulse with arousal, and she quickly nods her head, breathing quickly. “Please,” she whispers, her fingers flexing under his hold.

He grins down at her, tightening his grip slightly, keeping the same pace, watching her fight between completely giving in and trying to silence her noises.

Bucky wants the noises. He needs them. He needs to hear her whines and moans and cries as he brings her pleasure.

She’s clearly determined to win this, but so is he. And the moment he feels her almost reaching the edge, he suddenly stops, pulling his hips out of reach of her.

She has no idea how, but she manages to keep the whine of “no” down, her voice almost betraying her. Bucky’s soft laughter helps keep her focused, though, and she glares at him, breathing heavily.

Her mouth opens in protest, but before she can even think of how to react, his vibranium hand closes around her throat, pushing her down against the bed. 

“Oh god,” is all she can say, her voice trembling as she tries to mentally prepare herself for whatever Bucky has planned.

He knows her too well though, and the moment he moves, she almost loses the bet.

His right hand slides between her thighs, and in one smooth motion, he fills her with two fingers, curling them inside of her to press against her front wall.

She bites her lip hard enough to almost draw blood, but she’s able to dampen her cry of pleasure as she throws her head back, both hands now gripping the sheet. 

Bucky gives her no time to gather her composure before he starts moving, the heel of his hand rubbing hard against her clit while his fingers stroke over her g-spot.

She may not be speaking, but her body is talking, the sounds of her wetness filling the air. He growls his approval and leans over her, his metal fingers twitching against her throat.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, watching her as he quickly works her towards another orgasm. “Your pussy’s talking to me, doll. Just begging for more.”

She pulls her lips inward between her teeth, biting down as she breathes heavily through her nose, the pleasure starting to make it harder to focus.

His words aren’t making it any easier, but she’s grateful that he doesn’t make her look at him, her eyes currently shut tight, her head pressing into the pillow underneath her. 

There’s something so intoxicating to Bucky about being in charge of her pleasure, and he knows he’ll never get enough of her.

For just a moment, he forgets about the bet, his eyes taking in the way she writhes underneath his touch, everything about her encouraging him to keep going. Her back arching, her legs spread, hips thrusting in time with his hand as he fucks her deep and hard.

Except, she’s still keeping her noises to a minimum. Even as she starts to breathe quicker, the gasps turning to shuddering sighs, she manages to somehow keep it all under control.

And it’s starting to get under Bucky’s skin. He can’t be a gracious loser when it comes to this.

That primal feeling resurfaces in Bucky, the urge to take her hard and fast igniting inside of him. But, first, he needs to make her come again.

He quickly moves his left hand down her body, pressing hard against her clit, giving him the ability to fuck her harder with his fingers.

Her eyes roll back in her head, and she nearly screams, his fingers deep inside of her, curled and rubbing hard against the spongy tissue.

She can feel the pressure building, and she grabs her legs, her hands wrapping around her ankles to keep her spread wide for Bucky.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, just as breathless as she is, his body humming with pleasure. “Can feel you, sweetheart,” he moans, grinding harder against her clit, knowing exactly what she needs to get over the edge. “Doing so good for me. Gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

She quickly nods her head, but she can’t trust herself to speak. She can barely breathe anyway as her fingers dig into her ankles, the slight pain giving her something to focus on, reminding her of the stakes here.

She’s so overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even fucked her with his cock yet. She has no idea how she’s going to win this bet.

She can’t think about that right now though, because her entire body suddenly tenses, and she squirts, coating his hand with her juices.

She barely hears Bucky’s groan of approval, but his words of praise quickly flood her brain, and she comes for him, using every bit of energy to not cry out.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you,” his deep voice adds to the pleasure still washing over her and she lets go of her ankles to reach out for Bucky, needing him.

He quickly joins her, resting some of his weight on top of her, letting her cling to him as her body shudders, her hips riding his fingers. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against her neck, his fingers buried deep inside of her, savoring the way her pussy pulses with each wave of pleasure. “I think I should I make you come again, just like this.”

He’s only half-serious, his cock aching to be inside of her.

Her expected whine makes him laugh, and he curls his fingers inside of her again, easily finding that spot that makes her tremble.

She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, but her mind is starting to clear, and she immediately shakes her head. “Absolutely not.” Another breathy moan, and then, “I think you should let me suck your cock.”

Bucky groans, allowing himself to briefly consider it, but kisses her softly and tells her no.

As much as they both enjoy when he fucks her mouth, it’s not going to help him win this bet. Her mouth needs to be free to make all those beautiful noises.

“I think you’re forgetting the point here, doll.” he teases, sitting up between her thighs and slowly sliding his fingers out of her dripping pussy.

She doesn’t even try to stop the soft whine from the loss, and he grins at her, watching her as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the delicious taste off both digits. 

The sight of him clearly enjoying himself makes her want to bring him more pleasure, and she leans up to kiss him again, welcoming the taste of her wetness on his lips and tongue.

When her teeth playfully bite at his bottom lip, his fingers tangle in her hair to pull her head back, meeting her grin with one of his own.

“How about I put my cock somewhere else?” 

The smile on her face grows, despite her slight disappointment at not getting to have him in her mouth. And as Bucky rests back on his knees, she slides her hands down to touch herself, giving him an even better view of her wet pussy. 

The action immediately makes him groan, and his hands move to her ankles, gripping them to steady himself. After all this time, she still has the ability to catch him off guard, and it makes him love her even more.

They both watch as he moves his hips forward to slide his cock along her slick slit, almost slipping inside her before gliding up to tease her exposed clit.

The movement sends a jolt of pleasure through both of them, and she lets out a soft whine, shifting her hips to try to guide him to where he needs to be.

It’s futile, though. Bucky’s doing this on purpose. Trying to make her forget the bet, but she keeps herself under control, breathing heavily through her nose, proving to him she’s just as dedicated as he is.

With a longing look on her face, and another shift of her hips, she pleads, “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s fingers tighten around her ankles, but he stays exactly where he is, continuing to tease her with the head of his cock. “You sure you’re ready?”

His gentle tone makes her laugh softly, but he shakes his head at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m serious, doll.” His breathing is just as heavy as hers, his body tense from trying to control himself. “I’m planning to fuck you until you scream for me.”

She’s far from making objections, her need for him overwhelming. As if he needs any more encouragement, she licks her lips and raises her brow at him, declaring yet again, “I’m going to win this bet.”

His laugh sends another shiver down her spine and a pulse of pleasure straight to her clit. There’s no way she’s winning this bet, but she’s going to have fun losing.

Bucky angles his hips, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and as the tip of his cock pushes against her entrance, he tells her, “Arms over your head.”

She narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t question it, knowing there’s a good reason for it. And she’s excited to find out what it is. 

The moment her hands grip the pillow under her head, he smirks at her and snaps his hips, burying himself inside of her.

A harsh gasp leaves her, but it’s not loud enough to make her lose and she throws her head back, biting her lips to keep her mouth shut as he starts to fuck her hard. 

Bucky pushes her legs back, spreading her wider as he finds a quick rhythm. His own noises of pleasure get louder, but he does nothing to quiet them.

He knows how much she craves the sounds he makes, the pleasure she gives him like nothing he’s ever experienced. 

“Oh fuck,” he groans, trying not to squeeze her ankles too hard, “you feel so good, baby. So wet, oh my god.”

She can’t look at him. She clings to the pillow underneath her, her forearms cradling her head as she does everything in her power not to cry out. His cock feels so good inside of her, reaching all the spots that make her toes curl and her body shudder in pleasure.

Bucky is more than desperate to hear more from her. The soft gasps and whimpers doing nothing to quell the ache to experience her pleasure at its fullest.

He’s used to her cries and moans filling the room, and while everything about her is telling him she’s enjoying herself, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Stay just like that,” he orders her, sliding his hands down, squeezing her thick thighs as keeps moving, his hips never faltering.

She’s in no mood to disobey, willingly letting him fuck her towards yet another orgasm. Bucky can feel her tightening, her walls trying to keep in place on each outstroke.

“That’s it. You wanna come for me again? Wanna come all over my cock?”

She can’t trust her voice and all she can do is nod her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at him.

He immediately growls and leans forward, letting her thighs spread around him as his hands go to her bouncing tits, making her back arch, allowing him even deeper.

Bucky curses again, her wetness allowing him to bottom out each time, and he can feel his own orgasm building, the sight of her writhing underneath him almost too much.

“Fuck,” he growls, his right hand moving to her stomach, loving the feel of his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his hips never slowing. “You feel so good. Come on, come for me, doll, let me feel you.”

All it takes is one brush of his thumb over clit and she comes again, her fingers sore from her tight grip the pillow. But all she can focus on is the electric current of pleasure rushing through her, the tension causing her to clench her teeth.

She resists the urge to press her face against her arm, and somehow manages to make it through the intense pleasure with only making soft, breathy moans.

It’s at this point that something in Bucky snaps.

He fucks her through the waves of pleasure, waiting until her body finally starts to relax, before he suddenly pulls out.

The whine she makes is louder than all the sounds she’s made tonight, and she opens her mouth in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not quite done with you yet,” he promises her, the gruffness of his voice making her hips shift.

Bucky chuckles softly and runs his hands over her body, his fingers dancing over her throat before sliding down between her breasts. 

Before he does anything else, he checks in with her. “You ready to keep going?”

Her words come easy this time. “Yes, please," she smiles, lifting her hips again as if to entice him.

He has other plans though, and instructs her to turn over, the roughness of his voice returning. The excitement on her face is clear as she quickly obeys, getting into position - head down, ass up.

Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the view, the desire to claim her burning him up. He controls his breathing and reaches out, running his palm along her back and down to her ass, relishing the way she immediately spreads her thighs even more.

“Good girl,” he praises her, his voice deep with admiration. And then he slaps her ass, hard enough to make her gasp, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him.

They grin at each other, and he does it again, making her groan softly, but she pushes back, welcoming the sting. 

Bucky’s hand rubs across the pinkening skin as his metal hand slips between her thighs, teasing her with his fingertips.

She’s more than ready for him to keep fucking her, but he still asks again, needing to hear her give him permission one final time.

As soon as she utters the soft plea of ‘yes, please’ he’s lining up behind her, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft to guide himself back to her welcoming pussy.

He wastes no time and sinks into her with a soft groan, her hot, slick walls enveloping his hard cock like she was made for him. 

Bucky takes her slowly at first, the feel of her pussy fluttering with each long stroke of his cock making it difficult to focus.

She’s so sensitive, and with each deep thrust, her soft noises start to get just a bit louder, reminding him he’s on the right track.

His tender touches start to become a bit firmer, and as her hips begin to meet his with more force, he suddenly grips her waist.

Bucky plans to do whatever it takes to elicit louder noises from her, and without warning, he starts to piston his hips, making her take all of him, over and over. 

This time she’s expecting it though and has just enough time to grit her teeth, each thrust making her gasp, her breath coming quick and shallow.

It’s taking all of her focus not to give in and let herself lose the bet already; she’s just too stubborn to give in, no matter how good Bucky is making her feel.

The irritation grows in Bucky, her lack of noise starting to feel personal, and his hands move to her hips, grabbing fistfuls of her ass as he starts to fuck her harder.

He watches as her back arches and her fingers grip the bedsheets, each deep thrust causing her legs start to shake again. She’s almost there. He can feel it.

She whines his name, and her hands scramble to grip the edge of the mattress, keeping her head turned, refusing to bury her face in the covers.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs, the tenderness a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking her. “Gonna squirt for me again, aren’t you?”

All she can do is nod her head, her eyes shut tight, trying her best to keep her noises under control. But, with each thrust of his cock, she feels herself slipping, her skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat. 

It’s like a breath of fresh air to Bucky, watching as she starts to slowly lose control.

Any other time, he might take it easy on her, wanting her to be proud of herself for doing something she didn’t think she could do.

But, he’s way past that point now. 

Now, all he wants is to make her lose control and scream for him. And he has one more trick up his sleeve.

Bucky’s strong hands slide up along her back as he raises himself up, placing his feet flat on the bed in order to crouch over her, keeping his cock buried inside of her.

“Oh god,” she breathes, her eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to prepare herself.

She loves this position, but it’s going to be her downfall. And it’s clear Bucky knows it, because the moment he starts moving his hips, he starts talking to her, the growl in his voice pushing her closer to the edge.

“That’s right. Told you I was gonna fuck you until you scream for me.” 

He fucks her hard, the angle making his cock rub against her g-spot with each stroke, and she can feel the coil in her belly tightening.

She can no longer stop her noises from getting louder, and without thinking, she makes a desperate move to regain some semblance of composure.

With a quick pull of her elbows, she buries her face between her forearms, trying to quiet the cry of pleasure as she reaches a breaking point.

Bucky won’t allow it though, and grabs a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to the side.

“Fucking take it,” he demands, grunting with each hard thrust, “fucking take all of me.”

It’s too much. She can’t hold on anymore and her body tenses, her tightening pussy almost pushing him out.

“That’s it!” he growls. “Come for me, baby! God, I love you so fucking much.”

She sobs as her stomach tenses and she squirts, each hard thrust causing her wetness to run down her thighs and soak the sheets.

He talks her through it, like he always does, telling her how beautiful she is, how good she feels, and how much he loves making her come for him. 

Even as her body pulses from the aftershocks, Bucky keeps going, slowing his pace as he settles back to his knees behind her, trying to help her come down slowly.

She was loud, but not enough to satisfy his need to hear her scream.

“I need you to give me one more,” he murmurs, running his hands along her sweaty back. 

She whispers his name and shakes her head, her trembling limbs trying to give out on her.

Bucky’s quick to guide her onto her back again, this time slipping a pillow underneath to raise her hips.

He’s already fucked her senseless - she’s barely able to keep her eyes open - but he knows she has one more to give him.

Bucky starts slow again, giving her time to come back down, waiting until she can finally look up at him, still clearly cock-drunk.

He murmurs words of praise, telling her once again how beautiful she is, splayed out like this for him, her arms over her head, her thighs spread wide.

“You’re gonna look so good in that swing, sweetheart. All tied up and on display for me.”

Whatever insecurities that usually run through her mind are absent, and she moans at his words, starting to slowly move her hips against him, welcoming his cock back inside of her.

The image of being completely at his mercy makes her body pulse, and Bucky smiles down at her, sliding his hands along the sensitive skin of her thighs, just taking another moment to truly appreciate her. 

At this point, it doesn’t matter how he makes her come. She’s going to scream for him either way, all her inhibitions now gone that the bet is over.

And that frees him up to give her everything she could possibly need. “Tell me how you wanna come this time.” 

She breathes heavily and just slowly shakes her head for a moment, still not sure she has anything left to give.

But, if there’s anyone that can pull it out of her it’s Bucky. 

He waits patiently, fucking her slowly, barely pulling out before sliding back in until he’s completely sheathed. “Do you want me to keep fucking you like this?”

His fingers slowly move to her pussy, watching the way her body takes him so perfectly as his thumb finds her clit.

“Or do you need something else?” 

The shaking of her head turns into nods and she tries to find her voice as her back arches, her body welcoming the intense pleasure.

Her body is so sensitive, like every nerve ending is exposed, and she’s still not sure what she needs. Bucky will give her whatever she asks for, but she’s too lost in the moment to answer him.

As much as he’s enjoying the unfiltered sounds coming out of her, he needs her to talk. He needs to know she’s still with him, that she truly wants him to keep going.

“Sweetheart.”

There’s a slight edge to his tone, and she meets his eyes again, a soft smile forming on her face.

He grins down at her and nods encouragingly, “I need your words.”

She nods again, but as she starts to say “I want-” her words are cut off by a soft whine, Bucky’s cock bottoming out inside of her, finding that spot that makes her legs shake.

They both laugh softly, and she shakes her head at him before she finally finishes her thought, “I want you to come with me.”

A deep moan leaves Bucky at her request, his grip on her thighs tightening as he resists the urge to start moving faster.

“Is that what you need?” he asks, starting to lean forward, peppering kisses along her breasts and collarbone.

Her answer of ‘yes’ comes quickly and he starts to rock against her, grinding his pelvis against her clit.

“Yes,” she repeats, the simple word causing pleasure to race up Bucky’s spine.

He drops to his elbows, caging her in, and they both start moving at the same time, her legs wrapped around him, encouraging his hard thrusts.

“Yes, fuck me, oh my god.” She doesn’t care how loud she is anymore, the cries and moans leaving her without a second thought. 

Bucky’s already close, her pussy practically milking his cock, each flutter making him groan. But, he’s a man of his word and he’s not going to let himself give into the pleasure until she comes one more time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, panting above her, unable to tear his gaze away, committing this moment to memory. “Such a perfect pussy, baby. Just made to take my cock.”

She clings to him, her nails scratching down his back, sure to leave marks. But he welcomes it, the sting adding to his pleasure, watching as she cries out, her body starting to tense, her final orgasm building.

When she whines his name, he hears the apprehension in her voice, as if to warn him that this one’s going to overwhelm her. 

Bucky’s fingers slide through her hair, and he cradles her head, forcing her to keep looking at him.

“It’s okay,” he promises her. “Give it to me. Give me everything.” Her back arches and her pussy tightens, the sounds of her wetness filling the air as she starts to squirt again. “Fuck yes, come for me!”

And she does, her breath hitching as the sudden explosion of pleasure rocks her body.

Bucky doesn’t stop, moving hard and fast against her, forcing his cock to stay inside of her, even as her walls clench around him, almost pushing him out.

She cries out, finally giving him what he’s been working towards all night, her scream of pleasure sure to wake the neighbors. 

Bucky can barely hold back, his own orgasm threatening to consume him, but he fights through it, giving her a few more seconds of his attention.

“That’s it, scream for me. Let everyone fucking hear you.”

But then she’s begging him to come too, her sobs of pleasure pushing him over the edge, and he kisses her hard, his tongue sliding along hers.

All his senses are consumed by her, every single part of him entirely overwhelmed with pleasure, the rhythm of his hips faltering as his cock pulses, filling her up with his cum.

After a few more lazy thrusts, their hips finally come to a stop, and he groans against her mouth, collapsing on top of her. 

They’re both panting, their arms wrapped around each other, Bucky’s weight a welcome feeling as he starts to nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent.

They take their time coming back down, murmuring words of love and affection, their lips eventually meeting again in a soft, tender kiss. 

She barely registers him rolling them over, but makes a soft noise of protest when he slowly pulls out.

Bucky’s own sigh joins hers, the loss of her warmth making his softening cock twitch. If it wasn’t so late, and she wasn’t clearly spent, he’d happily go another round.

For now, they snuggle quietly, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while his fingers make slow, soothing strokes along her back.

Bucky’s sensitive ears pick up the steady rhythm of her heart as well, the sound a constant comfort to him even on his hardest days. 

Eventually, they finally move, sharing another brief kiss and exchanging words of love yet again, neither of them ever tiring of hearing it - or professing it to each other.

But, they need to clean up, his release still leaking out of her, leaving her slick - and he’s not much better off, their combined fluids matting the hair at the base of his cock.

Bucky’s first to finish in the attached bathroom, and he’s already in bed when she returns, the covers pulled up to his stomach, his phone in his hands.

The silly grin on his face makes her laugh, and she climbs onto the bed, asking him, “What are you up to?”

He gives her a quick glance, his bright smile making her heart flutter as he returns his attention back to his phone.

“I’m purchasing that sex swing.” 

---------------------------

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Hi, I have a question not directly tied to the roleplay (though I don't mind if you answer it in that direction): A while ago, you talked about your theory of a potential 16th Fear emerging to balance the emerging Extinction: the Dull. I find that concept compelling, but in that post you also said that each of the powers has an "opposite" due to how people like to categorise things and I'd be curious what you would consider the opposite of each power. (Mostly because I like lists and sorting things xD)

Some do have a pretty clear opposite (Vast/Buried, Lonely/Corruption), but with a lot of the others it's less immediately obvious or simply up to a bit more interpretation. iirc Elias says the Stranger is the antithesis to the Eye, but the Dark and the Spiral similarly foil its central concepts, and I'm not sure what else their opposites would be, really.

Let me just preface this list by saying that this is my own opinion and interpretation, and thus 100% right and correct and indisputable.

I will also say that there are Fears which I would call near opposites, but imperfect mirrors - such as the Stranger and the Eye - and some that just seem to hate each other without being antithesis - such as the Desolation and the Corruption. It’s also worth mentioning that overlap always exist between mirrors, of course; this is why there is a classic duality between the moon and the sun, but no one talks about the duality between the moon and a giraffe, even though they have much less in common.

That said, here is my list:

The Vast - The Buried: the most widely agreed upon. Spaces too large versus too small. The terrible freedom of being adrift in an endless ocean, of freefall, versus being crushed in place with not the space to crawl an inch. You get it. The comparison is so clear and easy that it kickstarts the speculation about all the others.

The Eye - the Dark: extremely straightforward; just as much as the Vast and the Buried, to me. Knowledge versus the lack of it. Stark light versus impenetrable darkness. What sees you versus what you cannot see. Literally symbolized respectively by an open eye and a closed one.

The Corruption - the Lonely: Toxic love versus miserable isolation. An overabundance of company, much too close, under your very skin, a swarm of uninvited guests within your deepest sanctuary who will not leave, versus a life so barren of any company at all that that you might almost start to crave the former. The heat of fever versus the cold of fog.

The Web - the Desolation: careful planning versus reckless destruction. A trap so intricately laid, hundreds of delicate moving pieces and redundancy measures waiting for just the right time… so easily laid to waste by an unthinking, spontaneous act of cruel hunger for rubbles. Man’s quest, since the dawn of time, has been to tame and leash fire. And we still haven’t mastered it.

The Hunt - the End: a wild fight for life versus its cold ending. The journey versus the destination. The two oldest fears. The Chase wants more than anything to never End. The End doesn’t Chase; it just waits. And you’re the one that walks towards it every instant.

The Stranger - the Slaughter: here is the part of the list where people start to look at me oddly, because they’ve often never considered those pairings; but hear me out, and remember that I am inarguably correct. The fear of something Else pretending to be human versus the fear of what truly lies at the core of every human person. The fear of being tricked by an elaborate disguise versus the intimate knowledge of the truth: that those who hurt others aren’t monsters disguised as people. They’re just people. And the urge is in you too. Masks, versus what is revealed when all masks are cast off. And they both have musical motifs which makes for some fun parallels.

The Spiral - the Flesh: the horror of the mind versus the horror of the body. Unreality versus a reality only too physical, only too inescapable. Your brain is lying to you, but your body keeps the score. Follow the patterns, the Spiral says, there is more, they are lying to you, just follow me down - this is all there is, the Flesh whispers, this is the raw and dripping truth, this is all you are and you will never escape it. The Distortion even admits it can’t digest an avatar of the Flesh.

[worlds-worst-dad-competition]

im very sad now bc i just saw the frigid take that manfred wasn't abusive :((

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

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[taintedcigs]

— fall into pieces

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: steve comes in his pants from eating you out. that's the plot. (wc: 1.3k+)

warnings: smut without plot basically, or*l (f!receiving), praises, steve cums in his pants, soft smut!, steve is attentive, MINORS DNI.

author's note: not proof-read. this is dumb and doesnt make sense bc i wrote it in 20 mins bc i desperately needed to get out of my stupid slump sooo just pls support me in my shitty writing era thank you.

pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Steve loves eating pussy.

Scratch that, Steve just loves eating you out.

Because let's face it, before you, he didn't really care that much about the other girl's pleasure, or he just wasn't really that keen on eating pussy.... that was until you came along.

He didn't know what it was, that had him hooked on you this much, how much he enjoyed tasting you like a man possessed when it came to eating you out.

You taught him how fucking pleasurable eating pussy was, and it unironically changed him.

Once he realized how much it mattered to him to make you cum, he decided to make it his mission. Make a mental note of how you responded when he did anything.

He studied the noises you made when his fingers lightly traced your inner thighs, the shaky breaths you gave him as you silently pleaded, begged for more.

He started picking up on the way your body gave into him, slowly at first, and then all at his mercy. Padded thumb circling around your clit, velvety lips puffing a huff of cold air, making you whine while he wore that cocky smirk, hook, line, and sinker.

He just didn't realize how much it got him off to see you like this, to taste you fully, not until now.

"Such a gorgeous fuckin' pussy," he hummed, pressing upwards, just a little bit, reveling in the way your back arched for him. Once he finally got you prepped, smearing your juices all over, earning more sounds from you, then he pushed a finger inside of your soft walls, drawling the sweetest sounds.

"God, s'fuckin soaked, honey, all f'me?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, lips turning into a mocking pout, earning nothing but incoherent babble from you. He adds another finger, drumming his fingers inside of that sweet spot, turning you into gooey mess, his cock twitching in his pants.

Only when you pathetically murmur out a "S-steve!" that he finally kisses you all over, tongue licking up a flat stripe up your cunt, making your brain short-circuit.

"Y'like that, sweetheart?" He hums, and you nod all dumb, making him chuckle in that arrogant tone, yet you can't even argue.

He is that good.

The tip of his nose brushes against your clit, "ride my face, honey," he murmurs, but it's more like an order, that perfect chocolatey gaze so full of lust that you can feel yourself clench, nothing but a little "okay" coming out of your glossy lips.

And he groans at your fucked out face, you look so perfect. Spread out in front of him, glistening with arousal, head thrown back, plushy lips slightly open with your uncontrollable moans.

He buries his face in your cunt before you can beg him to, teasing with kitten licks before sucking your clit into his mouth, you cry out in all glory, thighs squeezing his head, hands crushing the sheets beneath the two of you in need.

His cock twitches at the sound, caged beneath his boxers the more you grind against his tongue, and he fucking smirks at you, watching your face twist the second he slips his index fingers inside of you, words roll out of your tongue as nothing but disordered sounds.

His cold fingers curl inside of you, making you arch your back against him, you want to beg for more, but you can barely speak.

And of fucking course, he can tell, his devilish smirk growing wider before his padded thumb circles around your clit, the tip of his tongue keeping the rhythm.

His cock feels stiff, so fucking stiff that it feels uncomfortable, wanting, needing to feel your walls, to be inside of you, watch the way his huge cock stretches you fully.

"S-steve!" He knows that tone all too well, singing for him, the sweet sounds of your whimpers, letting him know that you are close to the edge, and he doesn't hesitate to add another finger.

"Doin' so good for me, sweetheart, you close, huh?" He mocks all knowingly, tongue sucking your clit while his fingers circle around it, it's all the stimulation you need and more, body going frail with how attending he is.

You give a slight nod, body flushed with lust, cunt clenching around him, "Use me," he begs, desperate, needing to see how heavenly you sound when you come around him, the prettiest face you wear.

"Use me to get yourself off, baby." The words sound filthier with his whiney tone, you know he's close too, just by eating you out. And it makes you want that sweet release so much more, chasing it eagerly.

His tongue picks up his movements, fingertips rubbing your clit with vigor, and you ride his face in all glory, chasing that little taste of heaven.

You don't know if it's the "Good girl," praise he offers, his fast-paced fingers on your swollen buds, or that celestial tongue of his sucking on your clit, but you lose it all. "Oh, f-fuck!" You moan out, every control of your body, gone.

Going to pieces when he makes you cum, your taste flooding his senses, overtaking him as well. It's all he wants, worship you, taste you on his tongue, watch your face contort over and over again.

That's the routine normally, but now it makes him realize how much more he enjoys this, having you spread apart in front of him, pussy fluttering around his tongue and fingers, and that's all it takes to have him leak all over, hips grinding into nothing but the sheets, cumming in his boxers, groans leaving his mouth.

It takes you a minute to register it all, barely able to catch your breath. "Steve, d-did you-" You looked down at his boxers, all warm and wet.

"S-shit, baby, I'm sorry, I just-" He mumbled, almost embarrassed, words jumbled together, blushing furiously.

God, that was so fucking hot.

He avoided your gaze, looking down on the mess he made, warm load spread all over his boxers, sure to leave a stain. Sticky and embarrassing him. "You just looked so fuckin' hot and tasted so good-"

"Steve," You interrupted him, his attention all on you, gaze so sweet that he can't avoid it. "What are you apologizing for that was so fucking hot," you blurted out, eyes blown wide with lust all over again.

"W-what?"

"Baby, you cumming your pants from eating me out just made you ten times hotter." You groaned all whiney, leaning in closer to him.

"Do you need me to take care of you now, Stevie?" You asked, tone sultry, and your doe-eyed gaze, dangerous, making his cock stiffen in record-breaking seconds.

"Keep talkin' to me like that and I'll cum in my pants once again, baby," he teased with a whine, lips still curled into a grin, making you giggle with your head thrown back.

"C'mere," you grabbed him by his shirt, kissing him roughly, teeths clashing and lust filling the room again as you tasted yourself all over his tongue.

Eager to make him fall into pieces again.