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#i was waiting for someone to pull out the hate on that post because i knew it would happen eventually
dirt-str1der · 11 months
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Yaoi has poisoned all of your fucking brains !!
#Yakuza HATEblog#i dont want to hear about the new yakuza trailer where kiryu proposed to soemone he wouldnnever do that thats so scary#also they refered to sayama as the cop lady like please show some respect to her she didnt be annoying for you to forget her#ive become homophobic now because i hated seeing a particular post so much like that will never happen you are crazy#like no this isnt how kzmj can win they have never even once considered a future together because kiryus foreplanning ended when he lost#his brother and majima has spent half her life waiting for saejima to come back like they have more important things to worry about#and kiryu is not able to share his kids with anybody he cant simultaneously raise haruka with someone he has to either be a single dad or an#absent dad no in between and sometimes haruka is left parentless in the middle of that mess but its not kiryus problem hes driving cars amd#beating people up .... well he does care sorry for insinuating he doesnt ... he thinks about his kids every day#but i guarantee you he does not think about majima every day i swear it to you he does not care about her that much !!! i have to forever#stress this doesnt mean that he hates majima but it simply means that shes not his priority AND SHE WILL NEVER BE !!! kiryu will never#risk it all just for a suckle on that majiwilly like he doesnt like her that much ... if kiryu didnt even give majima so much as a phonecall#when he was ignoring her the entirety of y3 AFTER tossing her back to the wolves just so he can play house at okinawa.. hes not going to#suddenly realise that he wants to spend the rest of his life with majima hes going to be pondering how miserable he is while beating the#fuck out of people because sorry i didnt actually pay attention to the gaiden stuff is kiryu a hitman now or some sort of mercenary either#way its so hot that hes paralleled by y0 majima because hes so depressed and wants to kill himself and forced to wear a nice suit and do#things he doesnt want to while being kept on a tight leash like hohooho ... have sex with me ...!!!#im going to kill him myself to put him out of his misery if i have to ... just let kiryu run off to america and join the cia im kidding but#wait i just thought of him actually running off and sayama pulling some strings in the force to keep people from looking for him because#shes like a bigshot cop now ... i think she should be able to cradle him gently and keep him like a show cat#a shivering wet penis in the rain and she takes him in and gives him a loving home ... i feel a little embarrassed talking about hetships#but the concept of kiryu just being in her house and living with her is making me laugh like wow ... hes straight now.... like obviously hes#still not going to be like lets get married 🥰 but sayama would want to... i believe that she could forge their documents so kiryu isnt an#illegal immigrant anymore and she gives him an american name so john yakuza can become real ... its like a fake dating au but they really#arent dating theyre just having sex and acting out scenes from a kdrama but eventually kiryu will have to go back because hes so sad#without his kids and he needs to see them one last time to pass away peacefully. sorry i just remembered how much older kiryu was than#sayama like thats a bit funny ... like i still think kiryu should be into older guys or girls but like we cant always have that happen#like how majimas options for getting fucked by creepy old guys are getting lesser year by year because those old geezers keep dying and hes#old now too ... like theyre so old thats fucked. i know ive been saying how kzmj can never win but i do think majima should breastfeed kiryu
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flying-cat · 1 year
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lol???????
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weaselle · 2 months
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it was too much i had to make my own post
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line cook here. ACCURATE
if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.
it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.
The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.
So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.
(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)
Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.
More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.
So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.
all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.
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while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays
Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.
Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.
The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.
Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself
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you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)
If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.
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Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there
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Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in
oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?
water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.
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Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!
The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.
You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)
THE POINT IS
by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.
For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.
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if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.
you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.
See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?
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those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...
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And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...
Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.
In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.
IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO
open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.
Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.
It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.
but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.
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landososcar · 3 months
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lover ; LN4
pairing(s) ; lando norris x swiftie!reader
summary ; in which y/n just wants to post pictures of her boyfriend, not expecting people to get the wrong idea
warnings ; smau, lots of fluff
note ; its 3am and i didn’t want to sleep til i finished this so idk what mistakes there probably is lmao😭 also just pretend the twitter stuff says 2024 i cba changing it all
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instagram ; yourusername
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liked by nando4lorris, carlossainz55 and others
yourusername i saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent 💓☺️
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user1 who are you
carlossainz55 you tagged the wrong account silly
yourusername you replied with the wrong account moron
nando4lorris you two aren’t slick
yourusename yeah ok mr nando lorris
nando4lorris you’re supposed to be on my side wtf
user2 i’m so lost 😭😭
user3 i’m confused someone explain
user4 babe everyone’s confused
user5 wait so is this carlos’ gf or not
user6 idk who you are but you’re hot as fuck
user7 ok i swear i’ve seen carlos wear that top in the 4th pic before
user8 yeah i think i’ve seen lando wearing it too tho
user9 but lando isn’t in this girls likes and comments
nando4lorris yeah guys you’re right she’s gotta be carlos’ girlfriend
yourusername nando4lorris fuck off i hate you so much 😭😭😭😭😭
user10 ????????
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instagram ; yourusername
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liked by landonorris, nando4lorris and others
yourusername i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life 🤗🧡
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user1 crying because lando liked on his main AND his burner (confirmed)
yourusername p.s. the tag in these pics is for PHOTO CREDS 😁
user2 LMFAOOO HER COMMENT
user3 girl said my mans is NOT carlos sainz jr🙅‍♀️
user4 i have so much to say
user5 the taylor love lyrics, the orange heart emoji, the flowers, the ladybugs, THE CAT CARDIGAN
user6 i think i would die for her
nando4lorris 🧡🧡
yourusername 🥰
carlossainz55 i thought you guys were still trying to be sneaky
yourusername carlos you’re the one making it hard to be sneaky
user7 oh it’s so lando
carlossainz55 oh well it’s been 4 years everyone already knew
user8 ITS BEEN WHAT JEHFKSKKS ????????
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instagram ; landonorris
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and others
landonorris i’ve loved you (five) summers now honey but i want them all 😁😁
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user1 oh my god
user2 FIVEEEEE SUMMERS????? EVEN MORE THAN CARLOS SAID !/?;&2!@:9(
carlossainz55 i’m sorry i just guessed how many years because i didn’t know exactly just that its been a long long time
yourusername it’s ok carlos you were close
user3 SHES BEEN TO RACES AND NO ONES EVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT HER OH MY GOD
maxverstappen1 finally mate
oscarpiastri wooo secrets out 🥳
user4 he used a taylor lyric for the caption im gonna be sick
user5 if you zoom in on the second pic you can actually see me drowning myself in the background
ciscanorris1 💓💓
yourusername love you🥰
user6 wait i don’t have twitter can someone explain
user7 oh BABE you’ve got some catching up to do
yourusername my fav boy love you to saturn ☺️🧡
landonorris i love you more than you love taylor swift🥰
yourusername ok settle down babe don’t go too far
landonorris no sorry you’re right
user8 when he understands that ones love for taylor is never beaten >>>>>
user9 i need them biblically
user10 i still don’t understand how they hid her for 5 years lmfaoooo
user11 yourusername ok y/n but did he take you to the eras tour
yourusername he got us tickets for a uk show later this year 🥰🥰
user12 now, how’d that curly haired vroom vroom bitch pull HER
liked by landonorris!
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sturniozo · 4 months
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Can you make like a one shot of this post I saw it said this: People usually say matt gives them a submissive vibe, or that hes a mommy kink typa person, in my opinion, i feel like hes way too dominant that he would absolutely destroy you, his eyes, their so dominant, i feel like when u tease him in public hed whipser “just wait till we get home, ur gonna beg me to stop” LIKE COME ON LOOK AT THAT SEXY CRACKER ISTG🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
Wait Till We Get Home
matt x reader smut
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Masterlist
WARNINGS: Smutty smutty smutty smut smut orgasm denial p in v unprotected sex
The loud music played in the background as I sat on my boyfriend’s lap at our friends party. His arm wraps around my waist, pulling me closer to his chest. He laughs at something one of our friends says and I close my eyes.
I hate parties with a passion. I’m only here because Matt begged me to go with him. A mutual friend of ours had thrown this party for whatever reason, and Matt hadn’t talked to them in a long time. So he begged me to go with him so he wasn’t alone durning the outing.
So here I sit, on my boyfriend’s lap, thinking about the comfort my bed would bring me at this moment. My nice warm bed with soft blankets and smooth sheets. With fluffy pillows and my many stuffed animals. And my favorite part, sleeping next to my boyfriend.
I love waking up next to him. I love when he wakes me up by kissing my neck and groping my body. I squeeze my eyes shut, a familiar feeling growing between my legs. I move my hips back, grinding against Matt.
He huffs and holds me still, continuing to talk to our friend as if nothing happened. I bite my lip as I get an idea and grind backwards against him again.
Matt’s jaw clenches as he holds me still by my hips. I try again but he holds me still. I roll my eyes and lean back against him. He continues to talk to our friend as if nothing is happening right now. I sigh and give up, turning around a bit to face Matt.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” I mumble to him. He only nods and lets go of my hips, letting me get up and make my way through the crowd of people to the bathroom.
I close the door behind me and set my purse down on the counter by the sink. I dig through to find my emergency makeup bag to fix up the smudged eyeliner on my eye. I hear the doorknob of the bathroom door turn, and immediately turn around.
“Someone’s in here!” I shout. I mentally face palm for not locking the door.
The door opens and Matt comes in. He closes the door behind him and says “I know, you told me you’d be here.” He locks the door.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
Matt steps closer to me and pulls me close to him by my waist. “You should wait to fix your makeup, darling, I’m about to absolutely ruin it.” He whispers in my ear.
I blush deeply. “What?” I ask.
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t plan for this.” He murmurs. Matt pulls at my shirt and slips a hand under it to cup my breast from over my bra.
“Matt..” I whisper. His hand slips under my jean shorts, tugging them to the side to touch my core over my panties.
“You’re already so wet, baby.” He says.
He pulls his hand away and I whine from the lack of contact. “Matt.” I whine out.
“Just you wait till we get home, baby.” He whispers in my ear.
“What happened to ruining my makeup?” I ask as I slink my hands over his shoulders and pull him closer to me.
“You’re not getting anything until you beg for it, and we’re at home.” He grabs my hands and pulls them off of his shoulders.
“But Matt-“
“But Matt!” He mocks me. He steps back. “We should get home.” He says and unlocks the door of the bathroom.
I pick up my makeup and place it all back in my purse. I walk quickly behind Matt as he pulls me by my wrist, saying his goodbyes to our friends and then leading me outside to his car.
We both get in and he quickly pulls out of the driveway. Before I can even get my seatbelt on, Matt’s hand shoots for my thigh and travels inward to my dripping core. He slips his hand under my shorts, rubbing my clit through the fabric of my panties.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He tells me. I nod and do so while his fingers softly trace up and down over my panties.
“Matt-“ I moan softly.
He only smirks as he turns the wheel with one hand, taking a left onto the street his house is on. He pulls into the driveway, pulling his hand away from me. I whine from the lack of contact as he shuts the engine off and gets out of the car. I quickly undo my seatbelt and follow him into the house.
Matt pulls me by the wrist to his bedroom, harshly slamming the door behind us. He yanks me to the bed, taking off his shirt before towering over me, and pressing a feverish kiss to my lips.
I fiddle with his belt on his jeans, beginning to undo them. I pull the belt through the loops and discard it on the floor. He pulls my shirt over my head and does the same.
His hand reaches to skillfully unclasp my bra in one quick motion, as he’s done so many times before. I press the palm of my hand against his bulge in his boxers. He groans and takes my hand by the wrist, grabs my other wrist, and pins me down to the bed.
He smirks as he uses one hand to pin my wrists down, and uses the other to reach for a discarded tie on the bed, an undecided option from earlier when getting dressed for the party. He uses the tie to bind my wrists together, tying them to the headboard.
He then trails soft kisses down my body to my shorts, before almost yanking them down my legs and throwing them on the ground. He presses a soft kiss against my clothed clit. He lifts back up and pulls his boxers down, releasing his cock as it slaps against his stomach.
He presses the tip against the soaked part of my panties. He rubs himself slowly up and down my clothes core. I whine and twist my wrists around, trying to beg him for more.
Matt smirks. “So needy.” He mumbles. He taps his tip against my clit before movies my panties to the side, slipping his cock over my clit, collecting my wetness and then bringing it back up. He repeats this motion over and over and I squirm around.
I whine once more. “Matt please, I need it. I need you!” I beg.
“Do I need to gag you?” Matt asks as he leans down, his hand reaching up and squeezing my throat lightly. “Or will you be a good girl?”
I gasp through the shirt breaths I’m offered. “I- I’ll be good.” I manage to say.
He presses a kiss to my lips. “Good.” He mumbles. He lets go of my throat and sits up. He then pulls down my panties and throws them on the floor.
Matt uses his tip to collect my wetness once more, using his hand to spread it around his cock. He positions himself at my entrance, slowly inching his way all the way into me.
We’ve done this a thousand times and I’m still not used to his size. I gasp and writhe as he lets me adjust to him. He holds me still by my hips. “Oh, baby. You’re gonna be begging for me to let you cum.” He says as he begins to fuck into me at a fast pace.
His pace gets quicker, he raises my hips to meet his as he pounds into me. I feel the bulge from his cock inside me, the outline showing in my lower abdomen. Matt smirks and presses his hand over the clear bulge, saying “Feel that, baby?”
“You have, ngh, no idea!” I say through moans. Matt chuckles as he continues to pound into me.
His thrusts begin to hit that sweet spot inside me and I moan out loudly. I feel the familiar bind in my stomach begin to form. “Matt, Matt!” I moan out. “I’m gonna cum, please Matt!”
“Not yet.” He says. He thrusts into me just enough to make me edge, before pulling out right before I could reach my orgasm.
“Matt!” I whine. He only chuckles and unties me from the headboard. He lays down next to me. “What are you doing?” I ask as I sit up.
He pulls me over to sit on top of him. “Ride me.” He says.
“What?” I ask.
“You wanted to fuck so bad, fuck me. Fuck yourself with my cock, darling. Go on, do it.” Matt’s hands find their way back to my hips. He helps me lift myself up and position his cock at my entrance, before I sink down.
I moan out and stay still for a moment to adjust. I move my legs to get a better position to ride him. I lean back and place my hand in his thigh, helping me to steady myself as I raise my hips up and down his length at a slow pace.
Matt groans and grips my hips. “Faster babe, come on. Don’t pretend like you weren’t begging for this just a little bit ago.” He says.
I begin to quicken my pace, bouncing myself up and down his cock. Matt moves one hand to grip my ass cheek while the other stays on my hip, helping me to ride him.
“Fucking love this view.” He grunts out.
I moan softly and reach my hand down to rub my clit, only Matt stops me.
“Not yet.” He says with a groan. I whine lower myself down so he’s all the way in me.
I lean forward and kiss his lips feverishly, grinning down on him to get some friction to my clit. He smirks, knowing exactly what I’m doing.
Matts hands grip my thighs in place as he positions himself to pound upwards into me. I moan loudly as he begins at such a fast pace.
“Matt!” I scream out. “Oh god, Matt!”
“Beg for it baby, beg me to let you cum.” He says as he pounds into me. I feel his cock twitch in me, knowing he’s going to cum. It’s now or never. If I don’t obey him, he won’t let me stop cumming like last time. I’m not sure I can handle that overstimulation again.
“Matt, Matt please let me cum! Please, please Matt, I need to! I need to so badly, Matt!” I beg, tears forming in my eyes from his harsh grip on my thighs and is relentless pounding into my pussy. “God, Matt, please!”
“Since you asked so nicely, and we’re so good to me.” He grunts as he thrusts into me sloppily. “Go on, darling. Cum all over my cock like the food girl you are.” He says into my ear, his breath sending chills down my body as I moan out, immediately obeying him and releasing all over him.
He follows just a few thrusts after. Our white liquids mixed together as he pulls out of me. They spill out of my pussy as he pulls out.
“That’s the best part.” He mumbles against my shoulder.
“What is?” I ask breathlessly.
“Cumming inside you. Maybe I got you pregnant this time.” He smiles.
I shake my head. “Matt, I don’t know that I’m ready for that.”
“But you’d be such a good mother.” He mumbles as he moves us over to lay on our sides. I lay my head on his arm as his hand plays with my hair. “You’re so good with kids.” He murmurs against the top of my head.
“Matt, I want to. Just not right now.” I tell him.
“Okay.” He mumbles. He nuzzles my head against his chest. “Do you need anything?” He asks me.
“Can we just lay here for a bit before we clean up?” I ask.
Matt nods. “Anything for you baby.”
TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris
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lighteyed · 11 months
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you and i (back at it again) / steve harrington
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summary: steve's left standing alone after starcourt, until you show up for him.
word count: 2.2k
author's note: inspired by this tik tok because i nearly shed a tear also this is my first time posting in awhile be nice pls
He watches his friends reunite with their families, mournful. He stands alone and contemplative by a cop car, the various spots of bruising and swelling on his face beginning to pulse with pain the more his adrenaline began to fade out of his bloodstream. The cops at the station said they'd called his parents house, his house, but no one had picked up. He knew they were home. He kicks a rock near his his foot, shoving his hands in the pockets of the bloody uniform he was still wearing. He wants a shower. He wants to go to bed. He wants to go to bed with the serenity of someone who knew they were loved. He wouldn't be able to do that if he went home. The word home a loose term.
"We can take you home if you need a ride, son," one of the cops says to him. Steve kicks at another rock. Home.
"That's alright," Steve says dismissively, ignoring the tight twist in his chest. "Someone will have gotten in touch with my parents by now. I'm sure they're on their way." The cop looks doubtful. Steve hates that he looks doubtful. Steve hates that he's also doubtful. "Couple more minutes," he swears. He knows he might as well walk his ass home, though.
He leans against the hood of the car, rubbing at his jaw. His hand comes away bloody. He's about to accept the cop's offer for a ride, maybe, he figures, he'll just go to Robin's and sit there for as long as her parents will have him, when a car comes careening into the lot like there's not fifty officers of the law standing around, the tires screeching loudly across the gravel. It's barely at a stop, practically still moving, when you throw the door open and throw your body out of it.
"Steve Harrington, what the fuck?" You leave your car door open, leave it in the middle of the road, still running, to get to him in time. He gazes at you, and it's a stupid look in all honesty, mouth agape, his brown eyes big and tragic looking, his face torn up and swollen. He wasn't expecting you. Why would he have been? You'd been broken up for a few months now and he was still nursing his wounds from it, knowing it was supposed to be for the best; you felt like he was hiding things from you and he knew that he was, hiding all the stuff about the Upside Down, not wanting you involved, wanting you safe. And in a way he was glad for it. He'd gotten through this with you unscathed, and who knows what would have happened if you guys had still been together. When he looks at you, though, when he allows himself to be pulled in closer, your hand coming up to graze his cheek, examining every scrape on his face with softness and worry, he allows himself to want. To miss you.
You tilt his face back, scrutinizing his features. He keeps his eyes on you. You showed up for him. No one else but you. You were here. "The fire is all over the fucking news and I didn't know if you were working tonight so I was sitting by the phone waiting to hear from someone and then your friend Robin called and said you were waiting here for someone to come get you so I just came in case and- and what happened to your face? And where are your parents?"
He shakes himself out of his stupor. "They didn't answer the phone." But you did. You answered and you were here. A wave of pure love rushes through him. He knew a thing or two about being alone, had felt that way for as long as he could remember, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with or how many parties he threw, but you were here, and he wasn't alone. Steve wraps his arms around you in one sudden movement, an outpouring of affection he hadn't realized he'd been reserving for you. Always you.
You stand there for a moment, processing, before you respond, leaning into his touch. The sirens wail around you. Neither of you move. He's safe. You breathe relief into the embrace, holding him tighter to you. He's hardly talking, and usually he's the one talking the absolute most, but he's stunned, both with what's just happened, what he's borne witness to, and with the way you care about him despite everything, more than anyone he's ever met, and the way he cares about you and how could he ever, ever let himself let you go? How could that ever happen? It's all he thinks about as he holds you, feeling safer than he's felt in awhile, the smell of your hair and your skin filling his brain with serotonin.
"Am I taking you home?" You pull away, staring up at him, his ruined face that is still so painfully gorgeous, still so hard to look at. Your hand is remains poised on his cheek. It's warm and welcome.
"No, no, your house, please," he brings his hand up to meet yours.
"I got you, c'mon, honey." He turns and thanks the officers who'd been waiting with him before letting you lead him to your car. He keeps his hand on yours. It tethers him to reality. He's here and he's okay. Or he will be, soon. He's here and he's safe, at the very least. He's not trapped and being tortured. No one's going to hurt him. He's got your soft hand in his and he's okay for right now.
The drive to your house is silent, but it's not awkward. You try to keep your eyes on the road as much as you can but you can't help that they keep finding themselves back on Steve. You've never seen him so reserved. You're sure it was more than a fire that happened back there, and you're sure he won't tell you a thing about it. You drive one-handed the whole way home. You let him need you.
At your house, you get your bathroom set up for him to shower, placing fresh towels on the rack for him, laying out your products on the counter. He would've been able to find them regardless, but you busy yourself with it anyway. When you go into your bedroom to tell him the bathroom is ready, his shoes are off and put into the corner he used to always put them in, and he looks exhausted. "I didn't bring clothes to change," is the first thing he says.
"That's what you're most concerned about?" You give him a funny look. You open your closet and rummage around on the ground for a second before tossing him a pair of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stares at them in his hands. "I didn't know if I should give them back. So I just... didn't." He smiles a little. The first you've seen all night.
"Thanks," he waves them in the air before retreating down the hall. The door shuts and the shower squeaks on.
The way you loved Steve was unconditional, as much as you wish it wasn't sometimes. Even when he was pushing you away, even when he kept things from you, you'd always be there for him. He didn't have anyone in his corner like that. And you wanted to be. It wasn't something you felt obligated to do. You cared about him, and so you went to him. He'd do the same if the roles were reversed. It was unconditional because even when being there for him hurt, you still stayed. You still loved.
When he comes back into your room, his hair dripping but clean, God, he feels clean, his face devoid of dried blood but bruised and wounded, you're waiting for him with a first aid kit and a fresh ice pack. You must've heard the water shut off and gotten everything ready for him. The old sweatpants and t-shirt smell more like you now than they do like him but he's not complaining in the slightest. Something about you keeping them instead of throwing them away or lighting them on fire makes him think maybe there's hope. Not that you had a bad break up to begin with, it was more sad than angry, nothing that warranted a clothes burning, but still. Still, still, still.
He sits down where you indicate, rubbing his towel across his head to soak up the sopping water. His face is flushed from the hot water. You sidle up next to him with the medicine and bandages and try not to get too caught up in him. He places the ice pack on his puffy, blackened eye. He doesn't get it, this gentleness. He doesn't think he deserves it, really. After everything, does he deserve it? Does he get this peace?
"You're fidgeting," you mutter, narrowly missing the spot you were aiming for.
"Oh, sorry," he lifts his chin up a bit more and tries to sit still. You're so patient and kind and it makes him ache a little. You take care of him and it's not for any reason other than you caring about him. He's not used to anyone caring about him. "Are you sure this is alright? You don't wanna... be alone?"
"No, I wanna make sure you're okay," you answer easily, as easy as breathing, swiping medicine across his wounds with the lightest touch you can manage. He hisses in pain, and you wince, feeling it, too.
"Are you sure? You don't have to."
"I want to, Steve, I promise." You pat his cheek, another gentle, affectionate maneuver from you. If he's okay, you're okay. He takes this in. He thinks he really feels his heart expanding.
As you start dabbing at his other wounds, you speak, finally. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," he replies, blinking up at you with his good eye.
"Was this..." you hesitate. He probably won't answer. "I don't doubt there was a fire but this..." you gesture to his face. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than just escaping a fire, Steve, you look seriously fucked up."
"What, you don't think I look pretty anymore?" He smiles again and you roll your eyes at him, but you smile back all the same.
"You're very pretty, Steve, but you have a black eye and there was blood all over your face and you're all cut up." He swoons just a little when you call him pretty. He's got an ego, what can he say? He continues smiling at you, a little high off painkillers, a little high off being here with you. If he's gotta be tortured he may as well get you back out of it.
"You look pretty, too, y'know," he says softly, his free hand twisting a strand of your hair around.
"Dodging the question I see," you raise your eyebrows at him but say nothing else. It was to be expected.
He takes a deep breath, looking up toward the ceiling, thinking maybe all this time he's just been stupid and silly for not telling you sooner, maybe he could've been with you all this time if he'd just told you, maybe it wouldn't have been the end of the world to have you involved. Maybe it would all be fine. "I wanted to keep you safe from all of it. See what happened to me? It could've been you, if you had been there."
"I would've wanted to be there with you," you insist. "You know I would."
"I do," he nods. "And that's why I don't involve you, babe, if something happens to me it doesn't matter to anyone but if something happens to you-"
"Why would you say that to me? You think I wouldn't care if you died?" You take his face in your hands, and he drops his ice pack. "Steve, are you an idiot? It would matter to those kids you spend all your time with if you died. It would matter to Robin, and to your family even if they take you for granted, and it would matter to me. I love you so much you moron, you can't say it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter. I go out of my mind worrying about you, don't tell me you don't matter."
His head spins, in the best possible way. The pain from his wounds doesn't register. Your hands on his face registers. You words register. Everything else is background noise. "You still love me?"
Oh. Your face warms. It's not like it had been that long since you'd called it off, it should've have been a surprise to him, but hearing you say those words makes him light up. You see him light up. "Yeah, of course I do, it doesn't go away just 'cause you won't tell me anything about your life," you grumble, taking your hands off him.
"Hey," he whispers, grabbing for you before you can tear yourself away from him. He brushes the hair back from your face. He has that look in his eyes that make people fall to their knees. Heavy-lidded and tender. Soft. Loving. "I love you, okay? I do. That's why I try to protect you. I'll tell you anything you want." He knows it now, for real, that he can't lose you again. Not this time. "C'mere, come back." You let him pull you in. "I'll tell you anything, please don't leave me, okay?" You shake your head at him. Never, never. He's pleading, desperate. When he moves to kiss you, the desperation is laced in it, he's lurching forward and he's hungry and yearning and your lips meet soft and fast because he wants to savor it after so long.
The disconnect of your lips sends him reeling, he wants to dive back in for more, for more of everything, but you stop him. "It's me and you, okay, always. But you gotta let me all the way in this time." You tap his heart lightly. "All the way, Steve. Everything."
He leans back. He is hesitant and bruised and bloody, a little bit broken, but mostly he's in love. Mostly he wants to give you the world. So he takes your hands in his. He tethers himself to reality. And he talks.
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burnthatbridge · 24 days
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if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 
pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place
“Can I get you another beer, man?”
Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”
Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.
Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.
“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”
Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.
“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 
But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 
“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 
Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”
It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 
“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”
Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.
“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”
Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”
Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 
“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”
Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”
Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”
“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 
“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.
And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 
“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”
“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.
But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”
Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 
“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”
While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 
“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”
He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.
“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”
Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.
Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 
“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 
Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”
Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”
It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 
“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”
Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”
Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 
But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 
“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”
“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”
Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 
Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 
Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.
“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 
“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?
“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”
Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.
Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”
Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?
Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”
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ellemj · 6 months
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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 3
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**If you haven't read Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 yet, read those first!**
Summary: You and Bucky give into the chemical that's influencing your bodies in the most hellish way. Round one leaves him planning round two.
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, mention of choking, sex pollen (dubcon), possessive!Bucky, minimal use of y/n, teasing, profanity, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 3.3k
Author's Note: Someone stop me, because I have another few thousand words of smut to add to this but I didn't want to post a whole novel and drive everyone away. Can you blame me though? As soon as the dog tags came into play my mind went rogue. Also, every single one of y'alls comments on part 2 made my whole night. Definitely going to be checking out a lot of y'alls blogs tomorrow. Enjoy this one!
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Something dark came over him as soon as your fingertips brushed over his dog tags. Something possessive and primal, something that only partially came from the chemical you were both exposed to. You saw it every bit as much as he felt it within himself, like a switch had been flipped. He couldn’t help himself honestly. If you weren’t going to let him kiss you, the only way he felt like he could pretend you were his was to see you in his dog tags. He wanted to watch you fall apart for him, with his name wrapped around your neck and falling from your parted lips. He would’ve been perfectly satisfied with feeling you fall apart for him as he kissed you, but no, you took that from him.
            You fight the urge to push him away as he brings his flesh hand up to the side of your face, cupping the curve of your jaw and looking down into your eyes. Too. Fucking. Intimate. What the hell is he trying to do here? Make love? Fuck fighting the urge, you push him back just like you did in the bathroom doorway, giving yourself enough space to step away from the wall and take a couple of steps into your room. As soon as you’re two steps from him, another stomach cramp hits you like a punch to the gut, and you’re doubling over just past the threshold of the door.
            “Stop fucking pushing me away and you won’t have to feel like this.” He spits out, quickly entering the room behind you and pushing your hair to the side to expose the back of your neck to him. He wastes no time in attaching his lips to your skin, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on each raised point of your spine above the collar of your t-shirt. If he can’t kiss your lips, he’ll kiss every other inch of you until you’re begging for him to give you the one thing that you asked him to withhold. Your breath hitches in your throat at the way even just his mouth on your neck makes the cramping in your stomach reside, allowing you to stand straight up once again.
            “Do we really need foreplay?” You ask between breaths. You hate how you’re already panting from his actions. You’re sure he can tell how needy you are, even though your words are making it sound like you can’t wait to get this whole thing over with. You’re trying so hard to convince yourself that this is a transaction, a swapping of favors between partners, and absolutely nothing more. You need this to be over with as fast as possible so you don’t have a moment to let yourself believe it’s really happening. You can’t dwell on the fact that you’re about to have sex with the one person that you trust above anyone else, the person that you put your life’s hands in every time you go out in the field. You can’t let your feelings creep into this. You need to hate him more than you’ve ever hated him right now, in this moment.
            “I don’t.” Bucky answers your rhetorical question, punctuating his response by grinding his hard-on against your ass, causing your t-shirt to pull up above your ass ever so slightly. He groans when he realizes the only thing between you both is his boxers and your panties. “But I’m not an ass, and we both know that physical touch is what’s helping the pain stop right now.” You want to argue with him but you know he’s right. Every part of you that he touches seems to feel instant relief.
            “You’re still an ass.” You retort. He laughs lowly in your ear as his hands find purchase on your hips.
            “Keep acting like you don’t need me to fuck the shit out of you and see where that gets you.” Biting your lip proves to be fruitless as you let out the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard leave your own lips. Who knew dirty talk could be that much of a catalyst for you? Bucky is instantly encouraged by the prettiest sound he has ever heard sneaking past your lips, and he pushes you forward to the foot of the bed. You climb onto the mattress quickly, not wanting to delay the inevitable any longer. You’re on autopilot now, moving up to the head of the bed as the mattress dips behind you. “Shirt off, now.”
            You’re getting really fucking tired of your body doing things without your permission, just because he gives you a command. You pull your shirt over your head and toss it onto the floor before he’s even fully on the bed. You don’t have time to overthink, to worry about how exposed you are right now, he doesn’t give you a second to form a thought. You feel his flesh hand wrap around your ankle and pull you toward him at the end of the bed until you’re flat on your back and he’s between your legs. Fuck. He’s good at this. He’s too good at this.
            “Look at me.” His tone is demanding and surprisingly calm considering his heart is beating out of his damn chest right now. He can hear his own heart beat in his ears and yet, all he can think about is how fucking pretty you look laid out in front of him like this. You watch as he slowly reaches up to his neck. He’s sitting on his knees in front of you, the sweat on his body gleams in the moonlight that streams in from the window across the room, highlighting every ridge and curve of his muscular form. You take your time dragging your eyes up his torso and once your gaze lands on the action of his hands, you swallow hard. He’s staring you right in the eyes, holding your lustful gaze as he lifts his dog tags up over his head and grips them in his flesh palm for a second. He looks down at them briefly, like they have so much meaning to him, before leaning over you and draping them over your head. You lift your neck and hold your hair to the side, allowing him to slide the chain down and rest the tags on your bare chest. He studies the sight before him, frozen in time. You don’t know it, but he’s memorizing the scene before him. Memorizing the way his name looks laying there on the smooth skin between your breasts, memorizing the way the tags shift with every inhale and exhale. Fuck. He’s done for. He shouldn’t have made you wear them. He knows that. But is he really thinking clearly? You’ve both been basically drugged. He can’t be held responsible for the stupid shit that he does now. Not when you’re laying here like this, ready to let him do anything to you. Well, anything except kiss you.
            “It hurts…” You whimper, dropping your head back on the pillow and closing your eyes as you wince. The stomach pain is back since he’s stopped touching you, and you’re noticing the wetness in your panties is approaching a near uncomfortable level. You want them off.
            “I know, baby, I know.” Bucky murmurs. He lowers himself down, keeping his weight on his arms beside your head. Baby? Fuck, you should have told him that pet names were off limits. As soon as you feel his hard length pressing against your soaked panties, your legs spread all on their own, and he rewards you with a soft kiss to your collarbone.
            “Fuck this.” You groan, reaching your hands down and pushing the waistband of your panties down. You only get them down a few inches when Bucky sits back once more, finishing the task for you. He drops them on the floor beside the bed and much to your relief, lays right back over you, sending your core into a frenzy of pleasure when he grinds his clothed cock against your clit. You bend your knees and spread your legs more, giving him all of the access that he needs to practically fuck you through his boxers. And he does just that. He ruts into you, giving your clit just the right amount of pressure and friction. Moans fall freely from your lips now, needy noises mixed with a few profanities and heavy sighs that make Bucky wonder how the hell you’ll sound when he’s actually inside you.
            “God, I can’t wait any longer, shit.” He groans. In one swift movement, he pushes himself off of you and stands beside the bed, pushing his boxers down his thighs and letting them fall to his feet as you watch. His cock, freed from the tight fabric it’s been trapped in for far too long now, stands against his lower abdomen, boasting an impressive size and making your mouth water. You have to mentally curse yourself and remind yourself that this is just a means to an end, nothing more. It can’t be anything more. But fuck, if he isn’t the most well-endowed man you’ve ever seen. He feels a surge of pride when he notices the way you’re staring at him, licking your lips and not showing a single ounce of shame. That’s one thing he can thank the super soldier serum for.
            “I need you.” You say softly, looking up at him with desperation and lust painted across your features. Your pleading eyes nearly send him over the edge right then. He has to remind himself that you’re in pain, that he’s doing this to help you get through the night. He’s back on top of you in a second, and your legs spread automatically once again, like you’ve been under him a thousand times before and know just what to do. As soon as his tip brushes against the wet folds between your legs, you’re both losing touch with reality. He closes his eyes, stilling above you, forcing you to grind your hips upward in search his dick. “Are you going to make me beg?” You ask innocently, sliding your hands from his waist up to the sides of his neck, hoping the contact will make him look back at you. He opens his eyes slowly and meets your gaze, licking his lips as his eyes dart down to look at your mouth. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me.
            “No, I don’t think I’d last through a word of that.” Bucky’s admission spurs your hips into action again, but he pulls his away from you. He tsks softly, balancing his weight on his vibranium arm as he uses his flesh hand to pull one of your hands away from his neck, guiding it down to your clit. “You’re going to touch yourself when I tell you to.”
            “Fuck, why won’t you just—” Your impatience gains you exactly what you needed. Bucky doesn’t even have to pay attention, he doesn’t have to line himself up with your entrance, he simply snaps his hips down and forward, his cock instantly finding where it belongs and sliding in. You scream out at the unexpected intrusion, the sting of his cock stretching your walls almost more than you can stand. “Oh my fucking god.” You moan, biting down on his shoulder as he stills once again. He’s nice enough to give you a moment to adjust to the few inches he has inside of you before he so much as takes a breath. For a few seconds, every ounce of pain in your entire body is gone. You feel only bliss with him inside of you like this.
            “Stop fucking rushing me.” Bucky snaps, taking a deep breath as he fights to contain his own release. You’re so fucking tight, so wet for him. He hasn’t felt ecstasy like this since the first time he ever had a sexual experience, and even that was a muted version of this. It’s taking all of his focus to keep from filling you up with everything he has before he’s even started fucking you. You find yourself smiling, a real genuine smile. Not even solely from the bliss that you feel, but from how fucking funny it is that he looks like he’s losing his virginity right now. The man who’s over a hundred years old, fighting to compose himself so he doesn’t cum too soon. “Is something funny?” He asks, and only then do you realize that he’s staring down at you.
            “You’re close, aren’t you?” You tease, letting out a small laugh. The euphoria you’re feeling right now is unmatched. Bucky shakes his head, tsking at you again, before leaning down until his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear, his stubble brushing against your cheek.
            “You know, I said I wasn’t going to make you beg for me to fuck you…” Something in his tone sends a chill through your whole body, and the smile falls from your face in an instant. In one swift movement, he snaps his hips forward and buries his entire cock inside of you, his swollen balls pressing up against your ass as he holds his position. You cry out from the mixture of pain and pleasure, seeing stars as your eyes fly shut. “But I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you beg me to stop.” You’re a moaning mess beneath him as he begins to thrust into you at a medium pace, making sure he pulls out nearly completely before thrusting into you again and again. You’re being as vocal as you’ve ever been, but with one key difference between this moment and every other moment that you’ve ever had sex with someone. You’re not saying his name. You won’t let yourself say his name.
            “Oh my god, oh my god that feels so good.” You gasp the words out as you fight to maintain control of your breathing. It’s obvious that encouragement does something for him when he picks up speed at your words, setting an unrelenting pace that has you sure you won’t be able to walk in the morning. “Just like that. Holy fuck, that’s it.” He groans and dips his head down, kissing your shoulder and sucking a mark on the smooth skin there. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths and moans filling the room, and the weight of him on top of you has your mind reeling. This has to be enough to abate the chemical compound, it has to be. You haven’t ever felt this kind of pleasure, not a single damn time in your entire life.
            “Shit, you’re so fucking tight. Rub your clit for me, baby. Touch yourself.” His voice is strained and you can tell he’s holding back. Using the hand that he previously led to your clit, you start rubbing fast circles, matching the pace of his deep thrusts. You can feel your climax rushing to the surface faster than it ever has before, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. “You’re close, aren’t you?” Bucky asks in the most teasing, condescending tone, paying you back for asking that exact question earlier. You moan out a needy yes and he smiles down at you, looking so fucking smug and confident. “Yeah, that’s it baby. You’re gonna cum on my cock while you wear my fucking name, aren’t you?”
            “Yes, oh, fuck, yes. I’m so close.” You can’t speak normally anymore, every word that leaves your lips is a sultry moan. Bucky leans back on his knees, his hands gripping your calves and pushing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. “Oh my god.” He thrusts into you hard, the new angle causing you to scream out as his cock brushes against just the right spot. Something about the way you scream for him makes him feral. He reaches a hand toward your neck, and you think he’s going to choke you, but no. He grabs onto the chain that his dog tags hang on and pulls you forward by it, until you’re nearly folded in half. His vibranium hand moves to grip the back of your neck as he fucks his cock into you relentlessly, his head falling back as he edges himself inside you.
            “I’m gonna cum, Y/n, I’m gonna cum inside you.” He groans out, his thrusts growing sloppier as he nears his release.
            “Please, please fucking cum inside me. Don’t pull out.” You beg, hearing how desperate you sound and not giving a single fuck. Bucky practically whines at the sound of you begging. He never knew how badly he wanted to hear that, and now that he’s heard it, he fears he’ll spend every waking second doing everything he can to hear it again.  You can’t help yourself. Tony’s words are still repeating in your head, you know that you need Bucky to cum inside you to have any chance at lasting relief tonight. You need it. “Promise me you won’t pull out.”
            “I won’t pull out, Y/n. Fuck, I’m gonna—FUCK.”
            “That’s it, don’t fucking stop. Just let go, cum inside me.” You encourage him with every ounce of energy that you have left. You’re thankful for the vibranium hand locked behind your neck as your head falls back.
            “Oh, shit baby, I’m cumming. Oh, my fucking…” Bucky cries out, his pace quickening for a few seconds as he pumps his load into you. You feel the hot spurts of cum painting your walls and filling you as full as you’ve ever been. The added pressure inside you mixed with his deep thrusts and your hand working on your clit sends you over the edge right after him, and your pussy clenches on his cock as your orgasm travels through you in waves of pleasure.
            “I’m cumming, holy fuck…” Your voice trails off as you temporarily lose touch with reality, your legs shaking and back arching as much as it can in your current position. Bucky holds you on his cock, thrusting into you at the perfect pace to prolong your orgasm. When you open your eyes again, his thrusts are slowing to a stop, and he’s staring down at you, his chest heaving with exertion and his cheeks glowing pink. Neither of you say a word as he lays you back on the bed, slowly pulling his cock out and helping you straighten your legs on the bed. You find yourself playing with his dog tags that are still around your neck, as he collapses on the bed next to you.
            “I feel…better.” You admit quietly, noting the distinct lack of pain in your body and the heightened sense of euphoria and fatigue you feel. You see Bucky nodding out of the corner of your eye, but he remains quiet, staring up at the ceiling. “You should sleep here.” You turn on your side to face him, fighting to keep your eyes open after such a powerful orgasm. You can’t even keep yourself awake long enough to find out if he has a response or not. You fall asleep right there next to him, still naked, totally blissful in your fucked out state.
            Bucky lies awake for a few more minutes after you’ve crashed. He also feels much better, but conflicted at the same time. You didn’t say his name once. Not one damn time. He was fucking you like your lives depended on it and his name never once left your lips. It shouldn’t matter that much, it’s not like you were making love or something. You were fucking to survive the night. He can’t blame you for maintaining some boundaries, but still. With how fucking perfect you sounded moaning everything else, he would’ve given anything to hear you say his name. Just once. As he drifts off into sleep next to you, he decides that the next time you fuck, he's not letting you cum until you say his name.
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daddyy333 · 1 year
Text
Needy | Eddie Munson x y/n
if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it
word count: 2.6k
summary: Eddie has never given it all to you because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but you refuse to wait any longer. You want all of him and you want him now.
warnings: smut, p in v, oral (I think), squirting, overstimulation, ?
sorry this has taken so long I don’t know writing hasn’t exactly been my top priority because I’ve got a lot going on but I’m still writing as often as I can so new fics are gonna be slow but I promise I’ll be back to posting like I used to soon
The first time you saw Eddie’s dick, you were honestly worried. One, how the hell does he find pants and underwear big enough to fit that thing. Two, how were you ever gonna get it inside you.
He knew that look. A lot of girls wore the same look when they saw him for the first time. He didn’t understand it really, he knew he was a little blessed but he thought he was just a little above average.
So naturally, he went down on you and fingered you till you came 3 times to make sure you were relaxed and wet enough for him to stretch you out. You’d honestly never felt anything as good as Eddie’s cock, and ever since then you’d been obsessed with it.
You’d be calling every night begging him to come over, or to come pick you up just so you could feel him deep in you, feel that overwhelming stretch that felt better than anything you had ever felt before. He didn’t mind too much, he found it adorable how needy you’d get, whining about how much you need to have him inside you.
You almost always got what you wanted, but not entirely. He never sunk all the way in. Majority of the time he was on top, and even when you were on top he’d still be holding you still while fucked up into you. He didn’t want you to sink all the way down and hurt yourself, he knew he was thicker at the base and he didn't want you to go too far.
You had begged and begged him to let you try and see if you could take it, but he would never let you. No matter how hard you begged or how much you tried to force yourself lower, he always managed to stop you.
But tonight, oh you were getting what you wanted. You’d been the horniest you’ve ever been in your life the entire day, feeling your slick stick to your inner thighs whilst you worked and noticing a wet patch on your seat when you got out of the car, you knew you needed him and you needed all of him.
“Ed’s, put the book down” you said as you came in, throwing your bag on the dresser and unbuttoning your work shirt. Holy shit did he hate that shirt, he hated it because it was so provocative and they always gave everyone a size smaller so they would attract customers with their “attractive waitresses.”
But right now, oh god you looked sexier than ever. Your hair was a little disheveled, your makeup making your eyes look darker and even more attractive. He wanted to devour you and make you cum till you couldn’t think anymore.
You worked your shirt off, stepping closer to him as you unbutton your shorts. You got to the edge of the bed and kicked your shoes off before slipping your shorts off as well. He grinned at you as you climbed on top of him, resting your hands on his ribs as you leaned down and kissed him.
“Mm, baby” he groaned through the kiss, his voice low and raspy making your pussy clench around nothing. You moved your hands to his chest, grinding down on his half hard cock. He moaned softly into the kiss, his hands gripping your waist hard.
You lightly tugged at the bottom of his shirt and he pulled away, nodding at you. You got his shirt off and he smiled up at you, toying with the straps of your thong. You bit your lip and he sat up, running his thumb along your bra strap.
You reached behind you and unclipped your bra, letting him slide it off of you. “God, you’re so fucking perfect” he said and scoffed, burying his head between your breasts. Kissing, licking, sucking, he was all over your boobs for a good few minutes.
Once he seemed to finally move on, you got off the bed and said “take off your pants and boxers…please,” He shook his head and complied, groaning when you took your panties off and he saw your bare cunt, slick spreading on your inner thighs.
You whimpered softly as his huge cock sprung out, leaking precum as he hissed, jerking himself off for a little relief. You smiled and crawled on top of him again, running your hands up and down his chest and stomach, watching his cock jump as you felt his thighs up a little.
“Baby please…I need you. It hurts…” he said and you giggled. You bit your lip and lined yourself up with him, sliding down a little and stretching yourself. He sighed relievingly and squeezed your tit in one hand, the other keeping a firm grip on your hip as he moaned at the feel of your tight, warm, and wet pussy on his sensitive tip.
“Go slow, babe. D-Don’t hurt yourself” he grunted out, he’d kill to pound into you till the sun rose but he never expressed it, because he would never risk hurting you. You groaned and started bouncing on him, not going all the way just yet.
He moved a hand to rub at your swollen clit, moaning loudly as your pussy sucked his cock in over and over again. “Baby…fuck, I love this pussy” he said and you smiled.
You grabbed his hands, forcing him to lie on his back slightly and held his hands as you continued bouncing on his cock. He grunted, abs tensing slightly as the pleasure consumed him. Perfect, just what you wanted.
You smirked, kissing down his jawline and neck. Once he was plenty distracted you sat up, his arms still above his head squeezing the pillow now to ground himself. You placed your hands on his chest and bit your lip, quickly sliding all the way down till your clit touched his little patch of pubic hair.
You gasped, moaning loud as your pussy stretched around him, feeling so so full you couldn’t believe it. “Babe!” Eddie shouted and grunted, shuddering as his cock throbbed. Your brows furrowed, jaw dropped as you moaned like crazy.
“Eddie…oh- oh I can barely take it- y- y-your so big- Eddieee!” You moaned, digging your nails into his chest. He breathed a little heavy as he wrapped his arms around your back, kissing you gently.
“Holy shit, you’re so perfect!” He said and you whimpered. You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, nearly knocking the wind out of yourself. He was so deep, and so thick you could already feel yourself getting close.
You only bounced a few more times before you were cumming hard, screaming Eddie’s name and squeezing his cock so good he couldn’t even think straight. “Haggh! Good girl…yea, cum so f-fast on daddy’s cock” he said and you cried his name, whimpering as your orgasmed continued to hit you in waves, your clit twitching hard as your pussy spasmed around his dick
“I- Uhh! Eddie! It’s too much- it- ahhh!” You moaned, tears streaming down your face from overstimulation. He gently pulled you off and you panted heavily, resting against his chest. “Eddie…” you giggled and he hummed, caressing your hair.
He was a little upset at you for doing it without warning and pushing yourself too far, or so he thought. “Need it again…please?” You begged and he furrowed his brows. He sighed and said “it was too much for you”
“No, I want it again” you said and looked up at him, straddling his lap. He kissed you softly and said “you just calmed down from the first one, baby you need to relax for a second” “Ed’s…” you whined, pawing at his chest.
He rolled his eyes and said “turn around then,” You smiled and turned around so your ass was facing him and he sat up, getting ready for you to sink down on his cock. He kissed your neck a few times and said “come on, babe, let me feel that pussy again,”
“Thought you wante-” “shut up,” he whispered as he pushed you down on his dick, making you whimper. You let out a strangled moan, your thighs tensing slightly as you got used to the feeling again.
You took all of him, whimpering and writhing on his fat cock. He grunted and squeezed your hips, biting your shoulder slightly. You groaned and started to bounce, holding one of his hands and reaching behind you to pull at his hair with the other and keeping him buried in your neck, just where he liked.
“Fuck! It’s so good- it’s so good!” You babbled mindlessly. He grunted and chuckled, palming your ass. You were so fucking sensitive, you didn’t know if you were gonna be able to get him there before you came again.
He smiled as he watched you bounce on his cock, face twisted in pleasure as you pulled at his hair and squeezed his hair. He grunted and said “could watch you ride me all day, gorgeous…”
You mewled at that, groaning harshly when he started to fuck into you slightly, feeling like the wind was being knocked out of you. He smiled and ran a hand over to your front, pushing down on the bulge of his cock in your lower tummy. You gasped and looked down, moans growing louder at the realization of how big he was and how deep you were taking him.
You whined, crying out as you started to clench hard around him. He groaned and bucked his hips harder, wanting to cum with you. You gasped as your legs shook, a sob racking your body. You didn’t know what he was doing to you, you were cumming so easily and so hard you couldn’t handle it.
“Fuck, babe…so sensitive,” he said, rubbing your clit. You nearly screamed, your pussy clenching so hard as you squirted all over him. Your whole body was shaking, your breathing all kinds of messed up and your moans and whines flowing out freely.
Your mind felt fuzzy after you finally stopped, nearly slumping over if not for Eddie holding you. He got you off his dick, laying you next to him as you panted hard, clinging to him. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at his angrily red cock. He needed to cum so bad, and he knew you didn't mean to but fuck he was really worked up.
“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you started to apologize and he shushed you, kissing your head and holding you close to him. He smiled and said “it’s alright, princess. I know, I know, you just can’t handle me, hmm? Too big for my little princess”
You mewled, peppering kisses on his jawline as slick gushed from your pussy again. You were so tired and sore but you wanted to make him cum and you’d do anything to get him there.
“Ed’s…” you whimpered, grabbing his hip. He shook his head and said “babe, uh uh, you’re gonna overdo it. I’m good, I’ll take care of it” “no, no Eddie….please” you said and he sighed.
“One more,” he said and you nodded, biting your lip. He kissed you softly, swallowing the moans you let out when he cupped your pussy, playing with the stickiness between your folds and toying with your clit.
“So wet, baby,” he said, jerking himself off a little to get him somewhere. You gasped softly, your breathing shaky and irregular. He grunted and you mewled as you watched him fist his cock, the tip reaching above your belly button.
“I want it Eddie,” you whined quietly, looking up at him with pinched brows. He cursed at how adorable you looked, getting into missionary so he could see your pretty face while you came around his cock.
“Yea? What do you want, baby? Tell me,” he said and your breath hitched as his mushroom tip circled your clit. You whined and said “I…I want your cock, I want all of it! I want your cum inside me, please!”
“Shhh, pretty girl. I’m gonna give it to you real good, don't you worry” he said and kissed you softly, sliding himself in and thrusting at a good pace. Not too slow, not too fast, just enough to let you adjust to the feeling.
“Awh, so fucking tight…” he grunted and you whimpered. You squeezed his shoulders, nails digging in his skin. You furrowed your eyebrows, moaning Eddie’s name and squirming as he began to drill his cock into you.
He grunted, sucking your tits into his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. God, he was a slut for your tits. Whining into your boobs, he sped up his pace as much as he could.
“Mmh…Ed- E-Eddie!” You moaned and he grunted, panting softly as his eyes squeezed shut. He thrusted hair, your pussy swallowing his dick and making him see stars. “fuck…” he whispered, squeezing the sheets beside you.
You whimpered, hands tangled in his hair as your pussy fluttered around his cock. “Shit- shit uhh…oh god, I’m close!” You moaned and he moaned into your ear, your pussy squeezing him deliciously.
“I’m almost there baby….agh! Almost there!” He said and kissed your neck a few times, squeezing your arm slightly as he tried to keep the same angle that was making his dick throb so hard he thought it might fall off.
“I can’t….ahh! Don’t stop, don’t stop till- shit- till you…fuck!” You cried out as you squirted around him again, you were so sensitive but you needed him to cum at least once. He rubbed your clit, making your eyes roll back as your legs shook hard, stomach clenching as he thrusted as fast as he could until he finally exploded in you.
He nearly screamed as he came, burying his cock deep inside you, grunting and panting as he came endlessly. “Y/n- fuuuck! It’s too good- it’s too- ughhh!” He groaned, pumping his cock into you a few more times as his cock throbbed inside you.
“Baby…hey, hey look at me,” he said and caressed your face. Your eyes fluttered open as you whimpered, looking up at him. “Hurts…” you whimpered. He kissed your head and said “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Fuck, I knew I should’ve stopped I’m sorry. Why didn’t you use your safe word, huh?” “Just wanted to make you cum…” you muttered tiredly.
He sighed and started to pull out and you winced, pulling at his hair. “Ahh- babe! You know it’ll be okay once I’m out. Just relax,” he said and you sniffled. You curled over on your side once he pulled out, panting slightly.
Eddie grunted and stood up, collecting himself as he quickly realized that was not just any orgasm. He groaned and grabbed a towel to clean himself off. He winced, his dick super sensitive from the most amazing sex you two have ever had.
He put on clean underwear and made his way to the side you were facing, brushing your hair out of your face. “You don’t have to do anything, you know? We don’t have to finish with each other, I don’t have to finish inside you, none of that. I only want you to feel good” he said and kissed your head a few times.
You moved to lay on your back and sighed as the exhaustion took over. “What about you though?” You asked, playing with his hair. He chuckled and said “I always feel good with you baby”
You rolled your eyes and he chuckled, wearing stupid boyish grin. He smoothed your hair back and kissed you softly, humming into the kiss. “You’re perfect, you know that?” He said and you blushed, looking away.
Taglist: @readsalot73 @hellfire1986baby
As of now l'm writing for
Eddie Munson
Lo’ak
Neteyam
So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)
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bridgetoesoteria · 2 months
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💌💟Realistically...What would they write in a love letter to you?
Surpriseee bish! Here is my double post as puh-romised. Its spring break, I aced my midterm, I had a nice lil chit chat with my crush where I high key let on to having feelings . *ahem* Now I wanna smoke and pull cards with my internet besties <3
So, I don't like those mushy-gushy readings that tell you the most ideal outcome, not the most realistic outcome. I am hoping to channel an authentic "letter," from the person you are here for.
Options are left to right. I hope it resonates 🥰
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Pile 1
4-card spread: Page of Swords, Girl w/ Violin, Strength, The Sun. BOTD: 3 of Swords
I just want to see you happy. I hope you know that. I miss the feeling of you holding me. I think about all the times, I got to hold your hands in mine. I think you are amazing and angelic. If I ever seem difficult, or like I am pushing you away, its just because I don't want to hurt you even worse. You're the whole package. You can shine with or without me.
If there is still bad blood, I will make it right. At least that's what I think about doing. All the time. Can I step up? Can I really have my happy ending; The car, the house, the family, building a life together. I need to get over my cold feet, because the only person I see is you.
P.S.
I love your eyes. I love how much hope I feel when I look into them. I love your hair, especially the length/thickness. I love how balanced you are, and how you can consider different points of view. It has taught me to be more compassionate. It has taught me to care about someone other than myself. You show me that I can get over my demons. We could be a power couple.
(If you have a "butt chin," your person loves this too lol)
Pile 2
4-card spread: 8 of Swords, 9 of Swords(R), 9 of Wands, The Star. BOTD: The Emperor
This person is definitely very attracted to you, but we are here for a love letter, mkay? Not a sext.
I don't know why you are acting like you don't want me anymore. You better not be giving away my ____ to anyone else. I want to be with you. I consider us to be a couple, no matter what happens. If you question where my head is at, my loyalty is with you. I don't want to see you with anyone else. I hate thinking about you being out there, living like you're single. I think about us having kids, animals, a family life. (If you already have kids they want to keep the family together).
I am working on my temptations. I know I need to be more responsible and I am willing to do that. I want to try having self-control. If that means cutting other people off, or waiting until you are comfortable being physical, I will do that. I respect your boundaries. You have every right to have them. I know you are just trying to love yourself. You should always stand your ground...even with me.
P.S.
You have a beautiful heart. You are so nurturing. You keep everything flowing. You completely fulfill me. You are more than enough. You definitely know what you are doing. I wouldn't have taken you for a "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets" type.
Right now, you probably are focusing on yourself. I hope you find the happiness that you are looking for. After pouring into everyone else so much, I hope you will start pouring into you now. I hope you will be receptive to all the good things you deserve.
Pile 3
4-card spread: Ace of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, Page of Cups, The Empress. BOTD: Justice
I can't figure you out. And its...amazing! It keeps everything so fresh. Maybe you don't feel like you are being mysterious but you are. I want to know what goes on "behind-the scene." I don't mean that in a pervy way. I mean, I want to know who you are, where you come from, what is currently going on in your life. I want to make the cut. Do you ever think about what your favorite diamond cut is? 💎
(Where ever your connection is, move up a step. This is not a literal proposal for everyone)
I want us to be on track. If I have to apologize, I will do that. I want to finally start something new. I want to make you feel like the king/queen that you are. I want us to be happy together. Especially if we are expecting 🤰
P.S.
Can I just brag on you really quick? I love your face shape. I love when we lock eyes. I love how you style your hair, even if I have never said so aloud. Even if I tease you about it sometimes. Its cute and so you. Everyone says we (would) go well together, and I have to agree. We could be our town's MGK and Megan Fox 🤣🤣
On a more serious point, you make me want to do better. Internally, I always feel challenged by you. I have my old beliefs, and then there's you. You make me want to throw out all the BS I believe about myself and start valuing myself more. I see how magical life can be, because I see how many miracles happen when we are together. I know I can do better.
Pile 4 4-card spread: 8 of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Emperor, 8 of Swords. BOTD: Ace of Swords.
(Your person could actually be the type to spill their feelings over texts or in the notes section of their phone)
I think about saying this all the time. I build up the courage to start typing, but I can never hit send. I just feel this lump in my throat. I'm a man! (or they are just someone who suppresses their emotions). I shouldn't have all these feelings. I feel overwhelmed by my attraction, my thoughts, my unexpressed feelings.
That's kind of what I grew up with. It was normal. People call it "traditional." I always thought (one of their parents, but I am really getting mom) could do better. Why are you still with them? I don't want that to be you. I don't want that to be our story. You always carry yourself well. I'm proud to be with you. I know you're a catch. I know you are the full package. I can't let you go. Please reconsider. I want to be with you.
P.S.
I hope you're getting rest. Don't lose sleep over me. Which is hypocritical, because I stay up thinking about you. Don't be scared...but I may have watched you sleep. I like how peaceful you look. I feel like I have privacy to fully process my emotions. I look at your face and I think about all the possibilities. It makes me nervous. If I have made a proposal of some kind, maybe to reconcile, I hope you sleep on it before you make a decision.
Pile 5 4-card spread: King of Cups, 4 of Swords, 9 of Wands, The Sun. BOTD: 8 of Swords
I think a lot of you are asking about a feminine energy, but flip the roles if needed. You could be the feminine energy being described, so maybe they want you to know you are "seen". It just started raining, so that makes me feel like this person is definitely more on the feminine side, or in touch with their emotions. You could both be young, or they're younger, or someone has a baby face.
I think about you all the time. Even when I am sad. I don't know if you know how much I struggle. My mental health isn't always in the best place. But you take my mind off of everything. I love when you look deep in thought. I come up with all these random ideas about what you could be thinking of. If you are away getting better, overcoming an ED, I hope you are being strong. I look forward to seeing you again.
You make me so happy. I miss being playful and messing with you. I could see us having babies. I think I would be a great mom/dad. But I know that's daydreaming and wishful thinking. I don't always understand your moods or what you want from me. Could you make it clear without it becoming an argument. I don't want to make you upset.
P.S.
You are soo pretty. I think your haircut really compliments your face. I love your side profile too. You are so smart. You know so much about the world around you or you are always willing to learn. I am impressed by your writing and/or creativity. I love everything about you. If I were an artist, I would make a portrait of you. You would be my muse. I just want you to know how special you are. You are 1 of 1 forreal. I am so grateful to have ever met you. You bring so much joy to my life.
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Whew. GD! That was a lot lol. This took me two days. I am going to relax and enjoy the start of Spring Break. Whoop whoop 🙌
And don't laugh at me...but I just discovered archives so I might stop updating my masterlist, since you can find all my readings there too.
Lastly, I am also doing personals if you have not heard! Take a gander.
~ K
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nishibons · 2 months
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𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐌𝐄 . . .
or piwon pining thoughts/texts
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warnings na genre fluff word count eight hundred excluding texts
note hiii everybody!! sorry i disappeared for a bit but ive been busy with uni TT i got an 85 on my recent assignment tho so everybody cheer… anyway ive been obsessed with piwon lately hence this post but fear not i have an enha version coming soon
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keeho
confident but humble. he doesn’t have any expectations for your relationship but hopes that you’ll eventually catch on to his borderline obnoxious flirting, and better yet, reciprocate. if you do happen to return his feelings, he doesn’t waste any time in asking you out properly, because why wait? his friends say he laughs too loud around you for you to not know about his feelings, but he swears that they’re just being dramatic… he’s so normal and chill about you, really, that joke about the refrigerator or something was just funny!
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taeyang
an absolute menace. you end up assuming that he hates you with how he stares you down whenever you enter his vicinity and with how he exchanges hushed whispers with his friends from across the room, silenced only when he turns his head far away enough to steal glances at you. eventually, once he asks for your number under the guise of it apparently being weird that you were the only two between your mutual friend groups to not have exchanged numbers, he plays into this idea, hoping he can pull off some sort of enemies to lovers trope, because it always works in books, right? in truth, he’s just a little bit apprehensive about the vulnerability that comes with liking someone, and tries to preserve his pride with thinly veiled insults that upon second glance quickly fall apart. can you melt his icy cold heart? (the answer is yes.)
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jiung
likes you from the very beginning, but is a strong believer in the idea that lovers should be friends first, so he tries his best to establish a genuine relationship with you before he even begins to think about making any moves. he shows strong initiative even throughout your friendship–whether it’s invitations to meet up for lunch, to see that movie you’ve been eagerly waiting the release of, or even paying for your coffee every single time, he’s quick to assure you and dispels any worries you might have about repaying him with a wave of his hand and a bright smile–your company is enough, he says, and if you end up falling for him (who wouldn’t?) he, of course, eagerly awaits the day he can take you for an actual date, but enjoys every moment he spends with you until then just as much.
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intak
by far the most shameless with his affection. he can’t help it–you have him hopelessly whipped from the very beginning and he’s terrible at hiding it anyway, so why not lean into it? the first to jump up from his seat when you mention being thirsty–water or juice? and the first to compliment you regardless of the circumstances of your meeting, even on those days you can’t manage anything but a sweater pulled hastily over your shoulders and a messy updo. it’s impossible not to feel flattered around him, and he’s honestly not even actively trying to flatter you, he’s just being wholly honest. if you ever want to shut him up, just compliment him back–hopefully you have a stretcher on hand!
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shota
the cutest ever. you catch him staring at you more than a few times before he eventually works up the nerve to approach you, and initially you’re intimidated–but the moment he opens his mouth you know that he’s harmless, and obscenely adorable to beat. he’s not the greatest at expressing himself with words, so he makes sure to show that he likes you by sending you things that remind him of you–songs from an artist he likes, those little figures you collect he sees in the window of a store on the way to work, a rainbow in the sky after a rainy morning. sometimes he provides some commentary, or a cute emoticon, and other times he says nothing, sending only a simple picture and hoping that you can feel even just some of the many emotions that rush through him at the thought of you and have his heart fluttering in his chest when you eventually reply.
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jongseob
the sweetest of angels. he doesn’t crush often, but when he does, he crushes hard, so he doesn’t want to mess it up. though he’s rather reserved on the flirting front, he makes sure to send good morning and good night texts every day, without fail, on top of the seemingly random yet innocuous questions he asks throughout the day–what did you eat for lunch? how was work? any thoughts on this new album that just came out? part of it is in hopes that eventually you’ll fall for him as he did you, but he does also take genuine interest in you as a person and wants to know everything about you there is to know if you’ll just give him the chance. flirt with him at all and you’ll very quickly have him turning into a giggling, indecipherably stammering mess.
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rynwritesreid · 5 months
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You belong to me| Spencer Reid
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A/N: The rest of my uploads this week will be ones that have being requested, as I have a few waiting to be posted and I feel bad for the people waiting for their requests:) Jag älskar dig 🫶🏼
Summary: You and Spencer had called it quits on your “relationship” when Spencer refused to commit himself to you fully. However, Spencer didn’t realise how much he would hate seeing you flirt with somebody else. Happy ending(I promise).
Content: Smut and angst. Fem!reader. Dom!Spencer and Sub! reader. Possessive and to an extent asshole Spencer. Oral (F! receiving). Vaginal penetration. No mentions of contraception. Creampie. owning/claiming kink. overstimulation. 18+
Masterlist| Requests are open| Navigation
You stood in Spencer’s hotel room, filled with anger. Spencer had made it clear he didn’t want to be in a relationship with you, you had also seen him happily flirting with other women. So, why did he have a problem with you flirting with a man who was very clearly into you.
 
“Spencer, last time I checked you didn’t want to be in a relationship with me. So, you do not get to tell other men to back off when they are flirting with me.” You stated through gritted teeth.
 
Spencer's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching as he absorbed your words. His silence was heavy, thick with the tension that hung between you. The room seemed to shrink, suffocating you both in a cloud of unresolved emotions.
 
Finally, he spoke, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and possessiveness. "It's different, okay? I mean... I didn't think you'd actually go out and find someone else so quickly," he muttered, his gaze avoiding yours.
 
Anger surged within you at his audacity. "Oh, so it's all about your ego then? You want me to pine away for you while you have your fun? Newsflash, Spencer, I have needs too. I deserve to be happy."
 
His eyes flickered with regret before hardening again. "I never said you didn't deserve to be happy," he rebutted defensively.
 
Your voice dripped with sarcasm. "Right. So, when I find happiness elsewhere, you suddenly have a problem with it? Sounds like double standards to me, Spencer."
 
Spencer's face flushed with frustration, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "It's not about double standards," he argued, his voice growing louder. "I just... I didn't expect to feel this way. Seeing you with someone else, it hurts."
 
“Oh, but you didn’t think how I would feel seeing you flirting with other people. God why is everything always about you?” you sighed; frustration etched into every line on your face. Spencer's words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the tumultuous nature of your relationship.
 
Spencer walked over to you, his steps measured and deliberate. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The touch sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the undeniable chemistry that had drawn you together in the first place.
 
“Not everything is about me. But I can’t let what’s mine flirt with somebody else.” Spencer's words hung in the air. Your breath caught in your throat as his words hung in the air, an intoxicating mixture of possessiveness and longing. The intensity of his gaze locked you in place, his touch branding your skin, igniting a flicker of desire deep within you.
 
“Spencer, you don’t get to say that anymore.” You tried to pull away from his grasp, but his grip tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh. The pain shot through you, mingling with the remnants of anger and desire that swirled in your veins.
 
"I do get to say it," he growled, his voice thick with a mix of dominance and desperation. "Because no matter what we've said or done, I can't shake this feeling that you're mine."
 
Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the conflicting emotions swirling within you. Spencer's possessiveness was suffocating, but a part of you couldn't deny the thrill it ignited deep in your core. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, melting your resolve with every passing second.
 
But you refused to let him dictate your happiness any longer. With a surge of strength, you wrenched yourself free from his grip, stepping back and putting some distance between you. The pain lingered on your skin where his fingers had dug into you, a stark reminder of the toxicity that had seeped into your relationship.
 
"No, Spencer," you said firmly, your voice trembling but resolute. "I am not yours to claim. I deserve freedom, happiness, and someone who respects me enough to let me make my own choices."
 
His face contorted with a mix of anger and hurt; his breathing ragged as he struggled to regain control. "You don't understand," he spat out, his voice dripping with venom. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. You're all I think about, all I want. And you're just throwing it away for some cheap fling."
 
"No, Spencer," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "This is not a cheap fling. This is me reclaiming my worth and refusing to settle for less than I deserve."
 
"You're mine," he repeated, his voice filled with a mixture of desperation and frustration. “You’ll always be mine. You’ve just got to accept it.”
 
Spencer’s lips than found themselves on yours. You wanted to protest, to pull away from the kiss. But you couldn’t, this is all you ever wanted. You just wanted Spencer, and you knew you were just flirting with that officer to see if Spencer would get jealous.
 
The kiss was electric, a collision of passion and longing that left you breathless. Spencer's lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling inside both of you. As his hands roamed your body, igniting a fire that had never fully extinguished, you couldn't help but succumb to the seductive pull of his touch.
 
Spencer's lips curled into a predatory smile, sensing your surrender. His grip tightened even further, bordering on painful, but you found yourself oddly drawn to the discomfort, craving the mix of pleasure and pain that only he seemed capable of providing.
 
You melted into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his every command. The familiar dance of dominance and submission played out between you, the lines blurring as pleasure mingled with the lingering pain from his earlier grip.
 
Spencer pulled away from the kiss, his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered darkly, "You may think you're your own person, but deep down, you know it's different between us."
 
Your heart raced in your chest, conflicted, and torn between the intoxicating desire that Spencer ignited within you and the boundaries you were determined to set. His words sank deep into your subconscious, stirring a primal need to surrender to him completely.
 
“I’m yours Spencer, I’ll forever be yours.” The words slipped out before you could fully comprehend them, a whisper of submission that hung heavily in the air. Spencer's eyes widened with a mix of surprise and triumph, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. His hold on you tightened possessively, his fingers digging into your flesh as if marking you as his territory.
 
Spencer's triumphant smile sent chills down your spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through your veins. The possessiveness in his touch both thrilled and frightened you, but the undeniable connection between you made it difficult to resist.
 
Spencer’s hand found their way to your shirt, his fingers undoing the buttons slowly, revealing the vulnerable flesh beneath. His touch was both deliberate and tender, his gaze never leaving yours as he explored every inch of your exposed skin.
 
As the fabric fell away, exposing your bare chest to the cool air, Spencer's eyes darkened with desire. His fingers traced a path of fire along your collarbone, down your abdomen, until they reached the waistband of your pants. With a quick flick of his wrist, he unbuttoned them, his touch igniting a trail of need that burned through you.
 
You could feel the hunger radiating from him, a primal urge that matched your own. There was no denying the raw connection between you, no matter how toxic it may have become. It was a dance, an intoxicating game of power and surrender that neither of you could resist.
 
Spencer's lips found yours once again, claiming you with a ferocity that left you breathless. The kiss was a maelstrom of passion and possessiveness, fuelling the fire that raged within both of you. His hands explored every inch of your exposed skin, igniting a trail of desire that consumed you both.
 
As his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a fiery path in their wake, your mind struggled to reconcile the conflicting emotions raging within. Sensation mingled with uncertainty; pleasure intertwined with doubt. But in that moment, none of it mattered. All that existed was the intoxicating connection between you and Spencer.
 
You hadn’t realised but Spencer was pushing you towards the bed, his touch guiding you with an intensity that made your heart race. The sheets beckoned, a sanctuary where the turmoil of your relationship could be momentarily forgotten. As you sank into the softness, surrendering to the desires that consumed you both, the world outside ceased to exist.
 
Spencer's eyes held yours, filled with a mixture of hunger and adoration. Each movement, each touch, was a delicate balance between dominance and tenderness, awakening a whirlwind of emotions within you. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume everything in its path.
 
The air brimmed with anticipation as Spencer lowered himself beside you on the bed, his body radiating heat. Your souls seemed intertwined, bound by an unspoken understanding that surpassed words. His lips found your neck once again, leaving a trail of kisses that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.
 
With a gentle touch, he traced a path down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. His lips worshipped at every inch of your skin, leaving no part untouched by his fervent desire.
 
As Spencer's lips trailed lower, his hands followed suit, caressing your thighs with a tender touch that made every nerve ending tingle. The anticipation built with each passing second, the air heavy with desire and the promise of unbridled pleasure.
 
Spencer's eyes met yours, you knew he was asking for consent, but you could sense he was asking for redemption. You hesitated for a moment, caught between the allure of surrender and the boundaries you were determined to set. The toxic history of your relationship with Spencer tugged at the edges of your mind, warning you of the potential consequences of giving in to his desires once more.
 
But as you looked into his eyes, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability beneath the seductive gaze. It was a plea for redemption, an unspoken promise that this time would be different. And so, with a mix of trepidation and newfound hope, you nodded, granting him the consent he sought.
 
Without hesitation, he lowered his head, his hot breath grazing against your sensitive flesh. His tongue delved between your folds, exploring, and tasting every inch as if committing it to memory. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, each lick and suck sending shockwaves through your body.
 
The intensity built with every passing second, reaching a crescendo that threatened to consume you entirely. Your fingers threaded through Spencer's hair, urging him closer, deeper. He responded with a primal growl against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you. His mouth became a vortex of pleasure, his tongue expertly tracing patterns that drove you to the edge and back again.
 
You were lost in a symphony of ecstasy, the boundaries of pleasure and pain blurring as Spencer pushed you further towards the edge. His touch was both tender and possessive, his tongue exploring every inch of your intimate depths with a voracious hunger that left no doubt of his intentions.
 
The room filled with your gasps and moans; the air heavy with the scent of desire. Spencer's fingers joined in the dance, tracing maddening circles on your swollen bud, coaxing you closer to the precipice. The tension built within you, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap.
 
And just when you thought you couldn't take any more, he plunged two fingers inside you, filling you completely. The sensation sent shockwaves through your body, pleasure spiraling outwards from the depths of your core. Your back arched off the bed involuntarily as he expertly curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot that had always driven you wild.
 
The world faded away as pleasure engulfed you, every touch from Spencer a symphony of ecstasy that echoed through your body. The boundaries you had set were shattered in the wake of the pleasure he provided, replaced by an insatiable hunger for more. Your mind became clouded with desire as he continued his relentless assault on your senses, pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion.
 
Spencer's movements grew more intense, his fingers plunging deeper inside you, as if he was determined to claim every inch of your being. The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths, mingled with his low growls of satisfaction. The intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure heightened your arousal, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.
 
As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, each crest stronger than the last, you surrendered completely to the intoxicating abyss. Your body writhed beneath Spencer's touch, aching for release as he skilfully brought you to the precipice of ecstasy.
 
The tension built within you, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap. The room filled with your gasps and moans; the air heavy with the scent of desire. Spencer's fingers joined in the dance, tracing maddening circles on your swollen bud, coaxing you closer to the precipice. The intensity grew with every passing moment, until you were teetering on the edge of an explosive climax.
 
Just as you were about to tip over into blissful release, Spencer withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting, throbbing, and desperate for more. A whimper of frustration escaped your lips as he grinned wickedly above you. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of satisfaction and mischief.
 
"Patience," he whispered huskily, his voice dripping with promises of pleasure yet to come.
 
You watched as Spencer slowly shed his clothes, revealing every inch of his sculpted body. Your breath hitched at the sight, desire coursing through your veins like a wildfire. The hunger in his eyes mirrored your own, igniting a primal need that threatened to consume you both.
 
With a predatory grace, he prowled towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. The weight of his presence filled the room, intoxicating and overwhelming. As he reached the edge of the bed, his hands moved to grip your hips possessively, his touch searing into your skin.
 
"I want to taste every inch of you," Spencer growled, his voice dripping with raw desire. His words sent shivers down your spine, anticipation coiling tightly in the pit of your stomach.
 
His lips crashed against yours again, a fierce kiss that left no doubt of his intentions. His tongue tangled with yours in a dance as old as time, exploring and staking claim to every corner of your mouth. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady combination of desire and something deeper, something that spoke of a connection that went beyond the physical.
 
Spencer's hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. He traced the curve of your waist, the swell of your breasts, as if he were memorizing every inch of you. His touch was possessive, but tender, an embodiment of the conflicting emotions that filled both your hearts.
 
With a deft motion, Spencer pushed himself up so that he hovered above you. His eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. There was a hunger there, but also a vulnerability - a vulnerability that mirrored your own.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, "I want to show you how much I love you." His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and the weight of past mistakes.
 
In that moment, you saw the truth in his eyes. His words weren't just empty promises, but a genuine declaration of love and desire. The toxic history between you and Spencer had been a tumultuous journey, filled with heartache and pain. But now, in this moment, there was a glimmer of hope, a chance for redemption.
 
You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to let go of the past and embrace the present. With a surge of courage, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, pulling him closer to you. The taste of his lips ignited a fire within you, fuelling your hunger for him.
 
Spencer's hands roamed your body with a renewed passion, his touch setting your skin ablaze. Every caress was filled with purpose, a testament to the depths of his desire for you. You surrendered yourself completely to him, allowing him to explore every inch of your being.
 
As the world around you faded away, it was just the two of you locked in an intimate dance of love and lust. The room seemed to disappear as you and Spencer became lost in each other. Every touch, every kiss, was a testament to the fire that burned between you.
 
His hands moved over your body with a reverence that spoke of the love he had for you. With each caress, he worshipped every curve and every inch of your skin. It was as though he wanted to memorize every detail, etching it into his memory forever.
 
You felt adored under his touch, cherished in a way you had never experienced before. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel desired, beautiful, and wanted. In his embrace, you found solace and passion intertwining, creating a powerful connection that surpassed mere physicality.
 
The heat between you grew with each passing moment, igniting a hunger that consumed every fibber of your being. Spencer's lips trailed along your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. His breath was warm against your skin as he whispered words of love and longing, his voice husky with desire. You shivered under his touch, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.
 
With a fluid motion, Spencer eased himself inside you, filling you completely. The connection between you was electric, a fusion of bodies and souls coming together in a moment of exquisite pleasure. His movements were deliberate and measured, each thrust taking you closer to the edge of ecstasy.
 
Your hands clung to his back, nails digging into his skin as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. Every stroke, every collision of flesh against flesh sent shockwaves of delight rippling through your veins. The symphony of your moans and sighs mingled with his own grunts of pleasure, creating a harmony that echoed through the room.
 
The rhythm between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect synchrony. You lost yourself in the dance, surrendering to the primal urge that consumed you both. The world around you ceased to exist as pleasure became your only reality.
 
Spencer's thrusts grew faster and more urgent, each one driving you closer to the edge of rapture. The room echoed with the sounds of your bodies colliding, a symphony of raw desire and ecstasy. The air crackled with tension as you both chased that elusive release, the anticipation building to a crescendo.
 
Your senses were heightened, every touch from Spencer igniting fireworks within you. His hands roamed your body with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his devotion. You could feel the intensity in his movements, his need to bring you to the pinnacle of pleasure.
 
As his lips claimed yours once more, you felt that familiar coil of desire tighten within you. It was as if the whole universe had condensed into this moment, this connection between two souls hungry for each other. Spencer's name escaped your lips like a prayer, mingling with gasps and moans.
 
With each thrust, you soared higher, teetering on the edge of an explosive release. The intensity of Spencer's touch, combined with the overwhelming love and longing between you, sent your body into a frenzy of pleasure. The world around you blurred into a haze as your senses heightened, every nerve ending electrified.
 
Spencer's movements became more desperate, his thrusts reaching a fevered pace. He was so close, as were you. With each collision of your bodies, it felt like an eruption of pure bliss was just within reach.
 
Your eyes locked, the connection between you unbreakable. There was an unspoken understanding in that moment, a shared desire to push each other past the limits of ecstasy. You wanted to give him everything, to show him how much you loved him.
 
As if sensing your thoughts, Spencer's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh. His breath mingled with yours in ragged gasps as he whispered words of love and devotion against your skin.
 
Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the symphony of your moans and the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. The tension that had built between you was unraveled in that moment, as you both gave yourselves completely to the pleasure that surged through your bodies.
 
Time seemed to stand still as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. You clung to each other, lost in the intense pleasure that consumed every inch of your being. The room filled with the sounds of your cries and moans, a symphony of passion and desire.
 
As your climax approached, you felt a surge of warmth intertwine with the pleasure coursing through you. It wasn't just physical release anymore; it was something deeper, something that transcended the boundaries of mere pleasure. It was a connection forged in love and vulnerability, a sacred bond between two souls.
 
In that final moment, bliss washed over you like a tidal wave. Your bodies trembled and convulsed together, locked in an embrace that defied explanation. It was an explosion of sensation and emotion that left you breathless and sated. The world seemed to fade away as you clung to each other, riding out the aftershocks of pleasure.
 
As your breathing slowed and your heart rates steadied, you remained tangled in each other's arms, basking in the aftermath of your passion. This moment, this connection, felt so different from anything you had experienced before. It was more than just the physical act; it was an affirmation of your love for one another.
 
Spencer pressed gentle kisses against your forehead, his touch filled with tenderness and adoration. You could feel his chest rise and fall against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in perfect harmony with your own. The room was filled with a blissful silence, a peaceful sanctuary created by your union.
 
In the tranquil aftermath, you and Spencer lay entwined, bodies still humming with the echoes of pleasure. Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his bare chest, revelling in the warmth that radiated between you. The weight of his arm draped across your waist provided a comforting reassurance, grounding you in the reality of your newfound connection.
 
As the room filled with hushed whispers and soft sighs, you marvelled at the journey that had led you both to this moment. The toxic history that had once plagued your relationship now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the raw love and desire that now bound you together.
 
Spencer shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your temple in a tender kiss. His breath danced against your skin as he whispered words of affection, promising to cherish and protect what you had created. With each gentle word, he washed away any lingering doubts or fears, replacing them with a deep sense of security and belonging.
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ms-demeanor · 3 months
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IDK that I've ever put it in one post before, but here's the transplant speedrun.
1 - Valentines day 2021, he's admitted to the hospital. We take a pre-hospital selfie then I shave his head and he shaves his beard because he doesn't want to deal with hair at the hospital. Me and his mom drop him off; at that point you can only visit someone as they are actually dying and we're told that he's going to stay in the hospital until he gets a transplant or he dies, and if he's rejected as a transplant recipient he'll receive palliative care in this hospital.
2 - First week of March, they allow patients to have one screened visitor; this is our first visit - I take photos in the hospital to show his mom because at this point he has a pump in his shoulder and it is difficult for him to move his arms to use his phone. He has also been confined to a bed since the week he arrived because he's on the ECMO machine, so he can't walk or move around, though they stand him up every once in a while. At one point one of the ecmo tubes pulls out of his femoral artery, which is Not! Great! He also needed a blood transfusion about every two days at that point, which worried the doctors because it increased his likelihood of rejecting. But he had been approved for transplant at that point!
The first thing he said to me on this visit was "look, I have abs" and then he showed me his abs because it turns out when you're really really dying of heart failure your body begins to eat itself.
3 - Now That's What I Call Jaundice (cardiac cirrhosis is liver failure as a result of heart failure and it's pretty much the big giant neon flashing sign of heart failure that says "hey you're fucking dying" so if you've got heart failure and your bilirubin number is off or the whites of your eyes are yellow please kick up a gigantic stink until they check your liver; large bastard's GP, who is my doctor, who I hate, saw his bloodwork with a very high bilirubin number a month before he was diagnosed with cardiac cirrhosis and wrote it off as a testing fluke fuck that guy)
4 - Don't let the sad face fool you, he's acting pathetic so that his mom will stop yelling about the fact that I'm bringing him cookies. He's allowed to have cookies. At that point he weighed 98kg and was outsourcing his heartbeat, he was allowed to eat whatever he wanted. (have i mentioned that I was moving us from Vegas to LA at this time? I was bringing him cookies because I'd baked hundreds of peanut butter cookies and other cookies to use up the flour, sugar, and peanut butter in the vegas house)
5 - Mid-march, he's got a match! He called me when I was in Vegas filling up the truck with another load and I drove right back and to the hospital. Once he went in for surgery I drove to his mom's house and crashed, then woke up and drove to our storage unit and unpacked the truck while I waited to hear from the doctors. I was unloading a bookcase when I got the call. (There wasn't any point in waiting alone in the hospital for sixteen hours; either he was going to make it or he wasn't and someone was going to have to unload the truck at some point. People have been weird about this, like I should have been sitting at his side all the time, but there was a two-hour daily limit for most visits and look i have sat in a waiting room while this dude had a thirteen hour surgery i do not need a repeat of that experience without the soothing balm of nicotine getting me through it; so unloading a truck it was)
6 - Two days after surgery and kind of mad about it. His chest hurt a lot (obviously) but, like, a lot a lot because they'd had to open him up for the bypass just two years earlier.
7 - First walk outside of his room after transplant in early April; he needed a LOT of PT because of how much muscle he'd lost. He lost sixty pounds in the hospital before the surgery, and only gained back about twenty while he was in there.
8 - A visit from the tiny doggo
9 - I come to visit and I've got a new phone with a portrait mode so he steals it and takes stupid pictures for a few minutes. Dude is bored and restless; this is in late april and he's feeling well enough to be moody. ETA: There is a jar of pickles in front of him because he'd been fluid limited for a long time and his salt levels were off and when he got to the hospital they were like "you need electrolytes and a lot of salt" and he was like "sweetheart can you please please please bring me delicious salty things" so I was bringing him jars of pickled mushrooms and garlic stuffed olives and just a huge number of pickles that he kept trying to share with the nurses. "Alli brought the mushrooms again; would you like a pickled mushroom? I have fancy toothpicks to share them with!"
10 - He comes home for the first time in early May; he ends up getting readmitted two more times because of complications before finally being released in early July. ETA: The second time he got readmitted it was for something that he wasn't at all worried about but that they needed to monitor for a couple weeks so he was *SO BORED* and actually feeling pretty okay; so at one point when I was leaving the parking garage at 8pm my car wouldn't start, I did some troubleshooting with the manual and the internet and didn't figure it out, so I called him and he tried to troubleshoot over the phone and got frustrated and was begging his nurses to let him come out to the parking structure to work on my car (they refused) - I ended up getting a tow and fixing it when I replaced the battery terminals.
Photos are all posted with his permission.
Also I dyed my hair purple between photos one and two because it's his favorite color. I also bought a blue dress, red tights, and yellow shoes to wear to visit him because he always teases me for wearing so much black.
I just love him a lot. It was a hard couple years there, but things are getting better.
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kalims · 1 year
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˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "who i like? do you seriously think I'm gonna tell you that? anyways its—"
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大好き
premise. someone asks who you like.. and you respond with their name—said person right beside you!
characters. all dorms and their prominent students
includes. gn reader
note. after a long wait! and the almost month this has been on my 'to be added' category it's hereeee.. fun fact.. I actually finished another work because I liked the idea of it more even though this was my prioritized.
was 20 mins late because I was fixing my posts aksbja
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heartslabyul
looks at you like you're insane. I'm confident everyone can envision riddle's face like that. it's in between the verge of being flustered and being appalled by your lack of filter. heat practically steams out of riddle's ears as his movements stutters, clearly struggling to comprehend what you said. maybe you should get ready for an earful but you're pleasantly suprised when riddle sets aside his.. passionate emotions to shyly ask a confirmation. (with admitted aggression as if he's in denial)
trey's eyebrows shoot up but the action looks way more casual than it should be. I mean, surprisingly he's pretty calm on taking it into account but he ends up just being a smiling fool beside you as you continue your conversation with your friend. he's like... ‎◜◡◝ beside you as your friend looks between the two of you in a hurry before breaking into a laugh. should be be worried that you're this bold..? well, it did work in his favor so he can't say a thing.
happy go luck cater looks even more happy than you've ever seen him in your life. hanging lowly by his sides, his hands twitch and he itches to pull out his phone to basically renounce to the world that his feelings are very much reciprocated and probably lowkey shitting on the people with one sided loves because, ha! he wins!! you bet he's gonna settle for screaming in his private account and then proceeding to scream in his pillow.
before he could foster up a grin and break out of the 'calm and responsible' honor student, deuce had to keep his lower lips under his teeth lest he looks like a weirdo smiling uncontrollably tinged in flush. the whole time he was just staring at you goofily.. like he's on cloud nine, which I concur. because he is. the one who gets gaslighted (not by you) into thinking that you both now are in a relationship like.. deuce be for real you didn't even ask me on a fate. (actually both of you might think you're in a relationship because of the way you're acting like yall are)
contrary to beliefs I think ace would be on the more casual side. you know? throwing an arm around your shoulder and shattering whatever personal space criteria there was. clearly there's no need when you 'like' him so much. he's using your words as an excuse to do whatever he wants, like leaning strangely close, letting a hand linger longer than it should. whatever restraint he had before is gone now because now he's moving onto a new level of personal. you'd either hate or secretly like the change. hate because ace wtf we're in class and like because,, who wouldn't want your crush to be overly affectionate with you?
savanaclaw
you'd think leona wasn't listening at all just from the indifferent look on his face but you know better just from the way his eyes perk up, tail sticking up in dormant but still a signal of alert and attention. for once he doesn't quip a tease, or a smart-ass remark that would want you to shovel your way to the ground on embarrassment. he just.. sits there, staring seemingly into the void of thin air itself. maybe it's because he's feeling particularly sentimental or sensitive today that his heart feels like it's encased in warmth. it feels good.
a laugh too shaky for his preferences, ruggie hopes he didn't look too nervous for his sake. I mean, this is literally his suprise of the century and when I tell you that it's a big shock to him, it's an understatement. come on, if he did think you had feelings for him ruggie imagined the confession going normally. either buttering him up or going straight to the point—the latter, which he prefers but when he said to be direct he certainly didn't expect this! the hyena runs away with jitters and a skip to his steps but he comes back a few minutes later looking more relaxed than you've ever seen him.
once again. contrary to expectations which the savanclaw boys had practically shattered those, many would think jack would go all shy. from the previous savanaclaw boys you'd think I'd go against expectations again but you're.. wrong hehe. i don't know how to explain other than he wills himself to show a reaction other than fluster, maybe it's just in his pride to now show you an ounce of weakness but literally how could be when you're the weakness? he doesn't know if you making him soft is good or not.
octavinelle
if it was real and possible to actually happen without a third party force, azul's glasses would've definitely shattered the moment you said the direct confession. he's torn between wanting to excuse himself to scream like a school girl or intent to not let the fluster show. well, either way he does both. keeping his emotions hardly in check, sometimes slipping up multiple times but when the time comes where you both part ways you know he's silently smiling to himself when he turns round a corner. the twins are suspicious and curious as to why azul had been in a good mood nowadays..
either jade maintains his cool, natural closed eyed smile or he crinkles his eyes when he breaks into a large sharp toothed grin. of course both has the lingering ominous feeling around it because it's jade.. and even you have to agree that him openly cracking a grin isn't exactly a good sign of peace, rather so a harbinger of trouble. if you were bold enough to say that in his presence I wonder how that previous confidence will fare when he's practically picking at your earlier words to gouge a reaction. no jade, I only said like. not love (yet).
no one other than floyd would be more than ecstatic. he didn't hear it at first, blinking then tilting his head to the side when he pauses to register it. so when he finally processes it you bet he's giggling in his head but in real time? he's practically sweeping you off your feet to hug you in the air. figures with the strange merman strength.. you find out that floyd is quite clingy when he's immensely happy, he even refused to let you go through classes and when you insisted he just sat down next to your seat and promptly kicked out whoever sat there before! floyd atleast hide! I mean the professor would surely notice the eel that's not in supposed to be in their class.
scarabia
if there was an option where he could purchase everything in the world then giving it to you without expecting anything back kalim would surely choose it. you got him so happy to the fact that he's willing to do practically anything that you ask. he doesn't mean to be over the top but.. he just wants to make you happy, which is more than you deserve. no matter how many times you tell him that you don't need any gifts but rather him only, it seemed like it only did worse since he practically fell a hundred times harder which brings us to the conclusion that he wants to give you the world a whole lot more now..
a complete opposite of kalim. jamil merely blinks and casts you a side eye. for the record, he is a little impressed you're that bold because if it was him he would've just brushed this person away or claimed that he liked no one but here you are. completely obliterating the concept of secrets. perhaps that's why he likes you in the first place, your personality is certainly a force to reckon with.. but sometimes you just have to tone down the chaos.. *please* 😐
pomefiore
vil is no stranger to bold proclamations but he can't deny he's a little startled. well, he didn't pick you out to be that type of person. either way usually he'd plaster a quick smile, the words not hitting anything other than the skin of his heart. strangely enough he can't keep the smile wider than he'd like off his face, he's immensely pleased by your words and pomefiore has never been so happy by the obvious good mood their dorm leader had. cause he left them alone for the whole day to practice stick to your side.
his eyes immediately crinkle in joy, rook has to look away and cover the lower part of his face to shy away the flush in his cheeks that would give away his thoughts. rook wouldn't mind if you knew how he felt, but this time he feels as though he's doing this to contain the excitement off his face. you can practically hear the tremble in his voice as he giggles out. "oh tricheur ! mon coeur bat pour toi dans ma poitrine!" it looks like rook completely forgot to existence of the person right next to you. if he got madol from the amount of times he practically sang of his love for you rook would be rich.
just like any other time where you say something off handed epel quickly goes out of character and nearly screams. asking, shaking your shoulders, out of breath by the amount of times he aggressively shook you for the answer of "really?!" his voice becomes that of a boy you aren't used to, but if he's really that willing to show you the person he truly is it makes you like him more. if you do agree, admittedly with your surroundings growing distorted he yells out a happy "YESSS." then coughs and resumes to his soft persona like he wasn't the complete opposite a minute ago. (the person that asked was shook)
ignihyde
it's hard to say if idia is actually gonna be next to you since,, he's idia and do you really think he'd entertain the thought of being in a conversation with someone who he doesn't know? so let's just pretend his tablet is floating next to you, it's better than nothing you guess. you spared a glance to the electronic when you literally confessed your type, idia himself fitting the category perfectly. you swore you heard a squeak but ehh.. maybe it was a rat or something.
meanwhile. ortho comes inside idia's room expecting his elder brother to just be sitting on his bed, gaming chair or something but no. idia shroud is on the floor, with his headphones hazzardly over the floor like it fell over when he did. his hair is sprawled around the floor, heating into a concerning passionate pink as he rolls around and... squeals..? just from the headphones ortho can vaguely hear a "my type..? oh you know idia? I'd kill to have a boyfriend like him." playing on repeat.
diasomnia
he would be like: ˘ ˘ and then: ‎◜◡◝ after he hears you. if there a sound for a big, happy dragon malleus would be excluding them. when I tell you he wishes nothing but to just whisk you away on spot he's not kidding, unlike everyone else who unintentionally forgot the person who asked. this man forgets them intentionally because he can't keep his eyes off you like.. 'hey other human. me and my child of man are having a moment here. will you please leave now. did you not get the sign'
giggles but with his deep voice it sounds kinda weird, but nice to the ears nonetheless. lilia labels you as his main target now, perhaps scaring you shitless at the random times is his love languange because he does it a lot. don't worry though, he always says a half hearted apology with a smile and showers you with affection right after. how could you be mad with how he treats you? even though he cares for you after you can't help but pray that the glint you saw in the ceiling was just some shiny thing.. maybe malleus got it from him because he doesn't care for the other person too.
sebek scolds you period. not only have you mentioned his name (which he's embarrassingly torn between being disgusted and fluster) but you've also mentioned that he's your type?? but I honestly think he approves your taste. "OF COURSE I am the ideal man! I applaud you for once human. not everyone can see the value of loyalty and devotion to waka-sama!" he says but with the increasing pink in his face you know better than to think that it's for the sole reason of malleus.
with the increasing time you've both spent together, silver has practically devoted himself to following you around whenever he's awake. (sebek says something about him always needing to be by malleus' side but quickly shuts up after silver comments that sebek is more than capable to look after him) the surroundings are growing hazy when you say it but he hears it nonetheless. he's happy to say that he dreamt a pleasing dream he's ever gotten in a long time. and since you were in it, it's safe to say that he's positively infatuated now.
clarifications
translation for rook is,, "oh trickster! my heart beats for you in my chest!"
I connected ignihyde parts since I REFUSE to leave out ortho!!
I really liked how those ^ parts came out. my favorite actor cause I think it's cute for idia to be freaking out like that lolol. especially with the idea of recording of your voices to listen to cause he's that down bad
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4wkjun · 4 months
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rude | lhs
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pairing: lee heeseung × afab!reader
summary: heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.
contains: heeseung riding a motorcycle (🥵), smoking, cursing, toxic father, sugestive.
obvious note: inspired by magic!'s rude (don’t kill the magic, 2014).
♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡
“marry me” heeseung said, looking at you. you were laying on top of him, his own body occupying at least 80% of his mattress. you laughed, covering his mouth with your hand.
“stop saying that!”
“i’ll stop when you say yes” he said in a muffled tone behind your palm. his long fingers wrapped around your wrist and he kissed your palm before removing your hand from his lips. his other hand held your lowerback as he turned the both of you on the mattress, laying your head in his arm. “you know i can make you happy.”
“you already make me happy, lee heeseung.” heeseung sighed, frustrated at your answer. you chuckled and lifted your head a little to peck his lips. “it’s getting late. c’mon, i gotta go home.”
“why can’t you sleep over?” heeseung asked and tightened his grip around your body, not letting you get up.
“you know why...”
“your dad is not a good reason. gimme a good reason.”
“well, when he is the one who pays for my bills, he is a good reason.”
heeseung pouted.
“i can pay your bills” he said, smiling. you laughed, shaking your head. “if i give you my credit card, will you stay?”
“oh, please. i already love you for free” you said. he smiled big. “hee, i want to stay” you said and your thumb circled his bottom lip when his smile faded. “but you know i can’t, my dad’s gonna kill you.”
“worth the price” he sighed.
you smiled, getting rid of his grip. heeseung groaned when he saw you reaching for your purse sitting on his chair, knowing you’d walk home by yourself if he didn’t drive you. he got up behind you, upset because he couldn’t even spend the night with his girl.
heeseung parked his motorcycle in front of your gate, waiting until your feet reached the floor before getting out himself. you smiled when he took his helmet, fixing his smooth hair – or at least trying to, because the wind wouldn’t stop blowing. he looked so good like that, still holding onto his helmet, his leather jacket zipped up to his chin, trying to protect him from the cold wind announcing the autumn was coming to an end. the sunset was so pretty, reflecting golden streaks of light into his beautiful skin.
“are you cold?” he asked, his gaze fixed on your face. his hands fixed your sweater, pulling the collar up to protect more of your skin. “i know you hate the wind when riding, i tried to come as slowly as possible...”
he pouted, now focused on fixing your wild hair post-helmet. you smiled, holding his waist. your hands felt cold inside of the gloves and your face hurt as if all of your blood disappeared, but your heart always felt warm next to heeseung.
“i love you” you said, your eyes fixed on his. he lowered his gaze to meet yours, smiling.
“and i love you, silly.”
in your tiptoes, you reached his neck and pulled him closer to kiss his lips. he kissed you back, his hands holding you in place for a little longer than needed. you chuckled when he let you get away from his touch.
“go, get inside and take a warm bath. i’ll wait you get inside” he said.
as always, you waved to him while closing the gate, his smile never fading until you closed it entirely.
heeseung sighed, leaning against his motorcycle and taking the cigarettes pack out of his pocket. with the cigarette between his freezing lips, he searched for the lighter inside of his pockets. it took him a while to find it and when he lifted it up to his face, he saw your dad’s car pulling over.
“fuck” he groaned, finally lightning his cigarette. the smoke filled his insides, warming up. heeseung watched closely as his lovely father-in-law got out of the car, closing it behind him. he let the smoke out of his mouth, making a cloud. “what’s up?” he grinned.
your father sighed, clearly annoyed.
“what are you doing here?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
“just passing by” heeseung shrugged. he couldn’t tell your father he just dropped your by, he didn’t know you spent almost everyday with heeseung in his house.
“if you’re planning on taking y/n out, drop it. she’s not going anywhere with you, specially at this time.”
heeseung checked his clock between his puffs. 18:02. he laughed.
“don’t worry, old man. before you notice, we’ll be a married couple” heeseung started, taking his time with his last puff. he let the smoke out slowly, directing it towards your father’s face. your father tried to fan the smoke away with his hand, his eyebrows frowned. “i’ll let you visit us, though. even past six.”
heeseung smimed at him, throwing the rest of the cigarette on the sidewalk. as your father filled his lungs to start speaking, heeseung grabbed his helmet, ready to leave.
“she’s not gonna marry someone like you. i’ll never get you my blessing.”
“we don’t need your blessing, we need a priest” he responded, getting on top of his motorcycle again. he laughed at your father’s facial expression before actually leaving.
it was half past three in the morning when heeseung finished his shift at the bar, tired as hell. he drove straight home and doze off without even a shower, completely worn-out. he woke up around noon, his phone blowing up with random texts you sent, just like every morning. he smiled at his phone, finding amusing a specific text you sent: “did you see my father yesterday?” he opted for speaking about this when you got out of class. heeseung took a long shower and cooked a quick meal for the both of you before taking off to pick you up.
you felt like you could almost drool at the sight of heeseung riding that motorcycle, with his usual leather jacket and skinny jeans. unfortunately, the other girls waiting for their rides also could drool at the sight of him. you almost lost your shit when one of them said “i wish he was picking me up like this.”
heeseung knew the thirsty girls around you made you go nuts, so everytime he parked to wait for you, he would take his helmet off so he could peck your lips, allowing you to show them he’s yours.
the drive back to his place was chill, he would rub your hands around his waist at every red light, trying to keep you warmer. you waited until he properly parked the motorcycle in his driveway before throwing yourself in his arms, kissing his lips.
“i missed you” you muffled before kissing him again. heeseung chuckled, kissing you back. he caressed your hair when you let go of him, smiling.
“i missed you too.”
he held your hand as you walked into his apartment complex, taking a good look at your ass while you walked in front of him in the stairs.
“so” you started, taking your shoes off and placing your helmet inside of the tiny closet in the hall. “did you meet my dad yesterday?”
“it’s more of he met me” heeseung answered, laughing behind you. he followed your steps, putting his helmet away along with his shoes. “i was outside and he arrived, that’s all.”
you hummed.
“why?” heeseung asked, reaching for his pack of cigarettes on top of the table. “did he say something?” he mumbled, holding that damn cigarette between his lips.
you sighed, walking towards his mini kitchen – pretty much delimited by his counter. you reached for the top shelf while scolding heeseung:
“what do i have to do for you to stop smoking?”
heeseung laughed, letting go a cloud of smoke towards the opened window he was standing next to.
“say you’ll marry me and i quit right now.” you sighed again, placing the plates you just grabbed on the counter. “won’t you answer my question?”
“to marry you?”
“hmm, i was talking about what your dad said about me, but... y’know” he said, puffing the cigarette again. the nicotine rush made him feel completely calm and relaxed, but he meant it. if to you said yes, he’d quit immediately.
you turned around with a plate in your hand, opening the budaejjigae pan. as you filled your plate, you said:
“he said something among the lines of my boyfriend being disrespectful towards him and i should leave him, just the usual” you shrugged. heeseung laughed, shaking his head as he exhaled the smoke again. “did you say something i should worry about this time?”
“no” heeseung said before inhaling and exhaling again. “just told him he won’t have to worry about controlling the time you go out with me in a while...”
“let me guess” you said, putting one of the plates on the counter and grabbing the other one to fill with food. “because we’re gonna get married?”
“yeah” heeseung smiled. after two seconds, his smile faded. “i mean... you’re always rejecting my “proposals” and i assumed you were joking because we’re young and... i don’t know, do you actually want to marry me someday?”
you turned around, only to face heeseung with a worried expression on his face, still sucking onto that damn cigarette.
“of course i do, heeseung” you said, serious. “i just can’t run away and marry you right now, but i dream about the day i’ll be able to say yes.”
“oh” he said after exhaling the smoke for the nth time. “i thought you were like bella in eclipse.”
you let out a loud laugh, walking towards him. ignoring the smoke on his tongue, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. he smiled during the kiss, throwing his cigarette down the window to properly wrap his arms around you. he loved you so much.
you were only officially “allowed” to see heeseung during weekends. he would call an uber to your place and pretend as if he didn’t give your personal helmet as soon as he bought his motorcycle so you could ride with him. he would get inside, greet your lovely mom, your annoying younger brother, pretend he could deal with your father and leave as soon as possible, desperate to kiss your lips. however, when you and heeseung were walking towards the door, your father stopped you.
“we need to talk.”
“right now?” you whined. “we have thirty minutes to be inside of the movie theater, dad.”
“the movie can wait, y/n. i pay for your credit card, i can afford to lose the money of a ticket.”
heeseung fought the urge to flip your dad off and tell you to get your stuff upstairs so you could move in with him.
“sit down” your father pointed to the couch in front of him. you and heeseung took a seat, heeseung already running out of patience. “you know, y/n... i ran across heeseung smoking in front of our house a couple of days ago. he said something about marrying you. did you accept marrying this man without my approval?”
“i didn’t. not yet.”
“not yet? do you want me to ground you?”
heeseung took a deep breath and bit his cheek. he needed to smoke immediately or at least punch your dad in the face, otherwise we would lose his shit.
“ground me?” you laughed. “i’m 21. you can’t ground me.”
“i can stop paying for all of your crap and let you starve while you do that shitty university course – which i pay for the tuition.”
“she doesn’t need your money, mr. choi.”
you tried your best not to slap heeseung and say: i do, actually.
“oh, yeah? and who’s gonna provide for her? you? a barman?”
your blood boiled inside of your veins. “stop talking about him like this, dad. you’re no better than him.” your dad scoffed.
“that’s ok, love. he wouldn’t understand what it means to really love someone” heeseung said, caressing your head as he always did.
“no, this is not ok. i’m in love with heeseung, dad. i’ll go anywhere he goes.”
heeseung smiled at your sudden confession. your mother and brother watched the whole show from the kitchen, afraid to step in.
“oh, yeah? then grab your things and go.”
“fine” you said, getting up and pulling heeseung’s hand. he followed you towards the stairs, proud but worried. you slammed the door behind your back and locking it. heeseung stood there, confused. “help me get that bag on the top shelf” you said, sliding the door of your closet.
“babe, wait...” heeseung started. he grabbed your hands, stopping you from walking around the room. “take a deep breath. are you sure you wanna do this?”
“why? aren’t you the one who asked me to marry you literally everyday?” you asked, confused. heeseung pulled you close, hugging your tiny torso.
“yeah, of course. i dream about marrying you everyday, baby. but... your father provides you a lifestyle i won’t be able to continue. i am a barman at the end of the day, love. i’m afraid i won’t be enough.” your eyes filled with tears as you hugged him back.
“you are enough, hee. i don’t need a fancy house or diamond earrings as birthday gifts. i need you. only you.” heeseung smiled against your hair, kissing the top of your head right after.
“ok, then... let’s make your bags and leave, hm?” he said, slowly getting away from your figure. as you turned around, heeseung searched through his pockets inside of his signature leather jacket. you heard the sound of the leather rubbing against itself, turning around.
“you’re not gonna smoke right now, are you? we’re gonna asphyxiate here.” heeseung laughed, kneeling down.
“i’m not looking for my lighter, babe” he said, pulling a tiny box inside of his inner pocket. “i’ve been keeping this around for a while now, waiting for the right moment... honestly, this seems like a point of no return of our lives, so... y/n, will you marry me?”
the next three weeks were though, but you loved them. heeseung lived in a tiny apartment – really tiny with only one bedroom, a single bed, a bathroom of the size of your actuall mattress and a kitchen you could barely cook in – but now that it was also your apartment, everything felt different. you enjoyed the nights you spent smashed against heeseung’s chest, and enjoyed even more the nights he smashed you against that mattress with no intention of sleeping at all. you loved coming home, taking a shower and dressing your clothes that were tidy inside of heeseung’s wardrobe. you loved cooking and cleaning the tiny house while heeseung worked at the bar of the club, saving all of his tips for you. you loved that he actuall quit smoking right after you said yes.
right after you shoved all of your bags inside of his small living room, heeseung drove you to the official registry so you could pick a date to get married. heeseung paid for the fee right on the spot, surprising the employee behind that desk. the two of you called your closest friends to attend the wedding at witnesses and now you were ready to take this step.
“maybe i should be at jay’s right now” heeseung said, zipping your white dress for you. “the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding!”
you laughed, putting your earrings on in front of the mirror. “we don’t need any of this superstition, baby. we’re gonna be happy no matter what, remember? you’ve been telling me that all of the time since we started dating.”
“yep, saying the same thing for about four years paid it’s price” you laughed, turning around to kiss his lips.
three hours later, the both of you signed all of the papers you needed and exchanged your rings. with a lovely kiss and weird applause from your best friends, you and heeseung were officially married.
“i told you i was gonna marry you anyway” he whispered against your lips. you smiled, kissing him again.
he did say it, a million times. and you realized as time went by that he was actually right. you moved out of that tiny house, he got a more stable job, you graduated and started working in your field. sometimes the money was indeed a problem, but by the end, everything was worth it.
heeseung is worth it.
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thesuperiorrobin · 7 months
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𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
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Pairing: Damian Wayne x Florists!Fem!Reader
Word count: 570
Warning: Damian and reader are in their twenties, mentions of flowers and their opposite meanings(hatred,Stupidly, etc) this post was on Pinterest that was taken from tumblr but lost it and now I can’t find OG creator. If you know the OG creator of if this looks familiar please let me know so I can tag them. Mentions of the word skank.
A/n: i never realize how horrible 2000s magazines were until I read some my mom kept😭 Also this is all Bs. I’m sure all of these are not right bc I looked them up.
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the flower shop was quiet today, it was nice but boring. When the shop was running slow time I’m the place slows down too. And you hated it. You were stuck making sure the flowers were perfect even if they were and you were just trying to make your shift go faster. But none of that seemed to work.
You somehow find yourself reading old magazines from the two-thousands you found in the back of the shop. Your elbows are rested up against the top of the displaced case, flipping through the reach page as you read every box and bubble carefully.
“What makes a girl a skank? Huh?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you flip the page “Two thousands magazines are something else”
(and trust me they are).
The sound of the bell ringing makes you perk up, indicating someone entered the store. You close the magazine before you walk around the display case to face the customer who entered. You stand there surprised, eyes coming in context with green ones that you recognize from pictures and the news—also ones you see everyday when you go to sleep and when you wake up in the morning.
Damian Wayne stands in front of you and he doesn’t look happy. You smiled at him, welcoming him in. You bring him in a small short hug before pulling apart. Your lips lock for a short second before pulling away again.
“Hey. It’s a surprise seeing you here today. Do you need something?”
He gives you a nod “Do you have anything—flowers, that are symbolic of hatred? Maybe stupidity?” You were taken aback by the question.
Not that many people come in asking for flowers with bad meaning towards them—normally they come in asking for flowers that mean love.
You cleared your throat. “I believe I do, follow me”
You take him further down the shop. In the back laid different kinds of flowers, separated by name and by color.
“There’s a couple I know by heart that have both good and bad meanings to them” You start off eyeing every flower carefully as you try and remember the bad. You point up at the orange butterfly weeds, and Damian follows your finger “Those are very beautiful ones but no one gets them because they literally mean ‘be warned’. Which is shameful because they always die out here”
“Is that why you have so many back at home?” Damian asked softly, placing a firm hand behind your back.
You hum “or orange lilies maybe? They mean hatred and other rough emotions. There are also carnations, which mean disappointment. You can also get black roses. Those work too. What do you think?” You look up at your lover waiting for a response as he looks over the flowers.
He pulls out his wallet “How about all that you just named?” You give him a grin. Collecting the flowers and putting them together to make a beautiful bouquet.
You ring him up. “Are these for your wife Mr.Wayne?” You tease playfully.
“Nonsense, my wife deserves better flowers that do not mean hatred” he scuffs as he plays along.
“She’s a lucky girl”
“Yes, she is” he smiles down at you lovingly. He hands you a fifty dollar bill for a bouquet that cost thirty-five and seventeen in change. He refuses the extra amount left over.
“Keep it. Use it to bye more butterfly weeds” you sigh.
When Damian made up his mind he’s too stubborn to change it.
“Who are they for anyway?” You asked. Tilting you head as you put the rest of the money away.
“Tim was being idiotic during patrol and landed himself in the hospital”
“Oh”
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