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totheblood · 11 days

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shiver | s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.

warnings: angst, avoidant!reader

a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!

wc: 3.1k

"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."

The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.

It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk.

He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting.

When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated.

It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away.

Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily.

He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears.

His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why.

Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you.

And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you.

Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of.

6 months ago - November

“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you.

“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”

“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke.

“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”

“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk.

“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her.

“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”

“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,”

“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”

“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest.

Present Day

Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work.

The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.”

As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms.

“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.

“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”

It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low.

“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.

“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”

“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.

“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine.

“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”

“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,”

“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”

“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”

“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things.

“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror.

“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”

Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”

The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off.

“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road.

“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”

“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”

“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”

“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest.

“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”

You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked.

Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back.

You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input.

Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls.

Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first.

You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could.

As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly.

Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close.

And everything went black.

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547 notes · View notes

allisonlol · 11 months

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HII !! could you do dazai, chuuya and fyodor with a s/o that forgot pretty much everything from their past/forgets a lot in the present due to trauma? if possible male reader, and if not gn works aswell! thank you :))

a/n: felt this req hard LOL

warnings: memory loss, past trauma (not elaborated on)

(Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor) With a S/O with Memory Loss From Trauma

Dazai

i feel like dazai can relate in some ways because he too has immense trauma but instead of forgetting it, he remembers it too well

therefore in a way he's grateful that ur brain is blocking those memories so u don't have to remember the pain

dazai had noticed your forgetful behavior the second he met you, and had already categorized it as due to trauma in your past

honestly finds your forgetfulness adorable but it also enrages him bc someone hurt you enough to cause it

simply does not comment on any of this though. if you mention that you forgot something that happened literally yesterday he'll simply smile at you (is that a hint of sadness in his expression?) and reassure u that it's okay

will text u updates throughout the day to make sure u aren't forgetting anything

pictures pictures pictures!!!! literally photographs everything u guys do together so you can always look back to remember :)

but unbeknownst to you, dazai will secretly do some deep digging into your past to find out exactly what happened and who to get revenge on <3

^trust me when i say they will deeply regret everything they had ever done to you

Chuuya

it's canon that chuuya can't remember what... the first 7 years of his life? so he totally understands

he won't question u at all abt the reasonings for your memory loss unless u wanted to talk abt it

does get worried abt your current forgetfulness though. with a job as strenuous as being in the mafia, having a good memory is important

^if any of the higher ups knew you weren't "sufficient enough" in that department, despite your other strengths, you would be disposed of

this added stress doesn't help you at all but chuuya does his best to keep you safe

^having a boyfriend who is also your executive is very useful in this aspect

leaves little notes and reminders on your desk so u won't forget anything important

hell, chuuya will even fill out reports for you if u were having trouble remembering the events that took place

i feel like he would also pay very close attention to everything u guys do together so, if you forgot, he would be able to tell you all about it

Fyodor

another one who categorized your memory loss as due to trauma the second he met you

unlike the others tho, he will question u about it

if you’re honest with him & say that it’s due to traumatic events, he’ll ask if you want him to do anything about it for you (in other words, find and eliminate the ones who caused it 😊)

^if you say no to this, he’ll nod and agree with u but secretly hunt them down on his own

however if you lie to fyodor and say that you’re just forgetful (not due to trauma) he’ll frown & keep asking probing questions until he gets the truth out of u

has he heard of privacy? like damn

^its out of love tho. not saying it’s right but fyodor shows his care by learning as much abt u as possible. he needs to know everything, good or bad

finds your current forgetfulness adorable, albeit irritating at times (remember who we’re talking abt here)

if you forgot an event or important piece of information he will get slightly annoyed with you & might say some insensitive things 😬

^tho once he sees that he’s upset you, fyodor will usually sigh and apologize

recommends u keep a journal for reminders, however he also logs all events that u do alone or together so you won’t forget in the future

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster

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sorrowsofsilence · 15 days

Text

Cymbal-ism • Folio

Pairing: Nick Folio x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: smut 18+ (unprotected pnv, pls wrap it b4 u tap it; male!recieving, slight degrading, rough!folio) enemies to lovers, arguing/bickering

Prompt: You're the new bad omens drum tech, and Nick Folio sure does get on your nerves. Is he a pain in the ass? Or is it the fact you two have some un-discussed sexual tension? Sent via anon

Author note: its hella late, ive had three margaritas, and this is not proofread lol

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

“You’re fucking insufferable,” you muttered under your breath as you brushed passed the short-haired brunette, shoulders knocking against him.

He scoffed, his golden brows narrowing as he hollered after you down the hallway, “Huh? What did you say?”

You glanced his way, flashing him the middle finger with a sarcastic smile while you opened the studio door, before slamming it loudly behind you in frustration.

Nick fucking Folio.

You two got off on the wrong foot the first day you met him two weeks ago. You had bought coffee for the team as a kind gesture, hoping to make a great first impression since you would be with them around Europe for two months.

However, shit hit the fan when you and Folio collided in the hallway as you got off the elevator, spilling the drinks all over him, and immediately giving him a childish vendetta.

To him, if his new drum tech was that clumsy, this tour would be the longest two months of his life. But to you, he was the one who entered the elevator looking down at his phone, not paying attention.

And even though you two barely knew each other, he already made your blood boil.

Perhaps it was the fact he was always trying to nit-pick every little thing you did or the way his attitude was always witty, having a sarcastic retort for everything you said.

It’s also possible it was the way Jolly, your childhood best friend and how you landed the job in the first place, was constantly teasing you about the sexual tension budding between you and Folio.

Or deep down, you thought that maybe it was the way Nick’s annoyingly perfect hair slicked back so effortlessly, or how flawless his ochre eyes were when he glared at you, the deep abyss titillating every time his brows furrowed in your direction.

Everything about him, and to do with him, pissed you off.

But it made you even more mad that you found him extremely attractive, his presence making your heart pound with anger and infatuation.

Nick stormed into the room, kicking the door closed with his foot, “If you’re going to insult me just do it to my face, you coward.”

“Wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings,” you said, kneeling next to the drum kit, loosening bolts on the boom stand.

Folio hovered over you, analyzing your movements as you adjusted the cymbals, taking them down one by one to place them in their cases. There was less than an hour until sound check, and none of the drum gear was moved from the studio room to the stage- thanks to somebody.

Groaning, you stopped to look up at him in annoyance, “I’m glad you think I’m pretty Folio, but maybe you can take your eyes off me and help? Instead of ogling?”

He scoffed, shaking his head as he started sliding the copper off of the loosened bars, “I’m just making sure you’re not fucking up my set.”

“Sure buddy,” you said, standing up and starting to unscrew the kick drum.

The two of you worked in tense silence, the air thick as miffed glances were shared taking apart the kit.

You tried not to watch the way his arms would flex as he twisted the rack tom, tattoos glistening slightly as the room heated.

You averted your eyes for a final time when they met his once again, stacking the cases onto the trolly to wheel it out to the stage.

Folio pushed passed you to grab the handles, ready to cart it down the hall even though it was your job.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” You asked as you trailed way too closely behind him, just to push his buttons. The smell of his faint cologne and slight musk of weed on his tanktop left your heart picking up pace.

“Of course I do,” He mumbled, about to walk past the stage entrance.

“To the left- the left-” you shook your head, staring at him with disdain, as he completely ignored you and continued walking, “Oh my god- Folio! it was left!”

You heard a chuckle behind you as Jolly and Ruffilo walked down the hall, stopping at the backstage door as they watched you humorously.

Rolling your head back you gave them an exasperated look, sighing audibly.

“You two ok?” Jolly smiled, folding his arms.

Shaking your head in frustration you bitterly laughed, “He is the biggest pain in my ass. I’m seriously debating quitting the industry as a whole.”

Ruffilo snickered, glancing at Jolly and then Folio, “He only does that because he thinks you’re cute.”

“Excuse me-” Nick interjected, shaking his head in disagreement, “I’d rather kiss a wall for five hours. At least it would be quiet.”

Shooting them a pointed look you walked passed the boys as they chuckled, letting Folio follow you onto the stage.

It only took about ten minutes to set the kit back up before you sat on the stool, practicing a few solos to test the position.

Nick watched in irritation from the side, but what you didn’t know was under all that show, was an immense amount of admiration. The brunette loved watching you play. He was always impressed with your coordination and keen ear, the ability for you to instantly stop playing and slightly adjust a drum before falling right back into a quick rhythm, breathtaking.

He’d never want to admit how good you are; but he would always be biting back a smile as he watched you test out his kit for him, making sure it was set and tuned to perfection.

You sighed once you finished your adjustments, before tossing Nick the sticks.

“All yours pretty boy.”

“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, before looking at the kit, “Also, your dumb ass forgot the hi-hat.”

Not believing him at first you glanced at the drums before swiftly swearing to yourself.

He was right.

Getting up you pushed past Nick, but he followed you back down to the studio, an annoyed murmuring coming from your mouth. As you entered through the door Folio closed it behind you, locking it.

“Nick seriously what-” You began, but were cut off by the brunette.

“God, do you ever shut that annoying fucking mouth of yours?” He said, standing close to you as he leaned forward, eyes narrowed.

“If it’s so annoying to you, make me,” You scoffed, tilting your head to the side.

The proximity of Nick subconsciously began to make your face warm as you backed up from him, but he was right on your trail.

You hit the soft padded wall of the studio, Folio’s body millimetres from pinning yours against the surface.

The tension grew as you both stared at each other with hatred.

“Fuck, you.” Nick spat, false venom dripping off his words.

Without hesitating you sneered, “You wouldn’t, pussy.”

It took all of two seconds before his auburn eyes flicked to your lips, a greedy hand reaching up and gripping your jaw as his mouth attached to yours.

It didn’t take long before you melted into Nick’s touch, angry at how good his tongue felt swiping against yours, the grip on your face tightening as his other hand reached to grip a fist full of your hair at the back of your head.

Fury, hatred, and lust fueled the fire between you two as your fingers gripped his belt loops, tugging his hips toward you as you began rutting against him.

You wanted nothing more than to claw down his skin, begging to dig your nails across the ivory and ink, embedding your mark. You wanted him to wince in a mix of pain and pleasure as your imprint but decided that grazing your teeth along his lips would have to do.

Nick moaned into you, quite literally ready to tear your shirt off, tempted to rip the cloth from its seam and destroy the fabric; but he withheld himself, aware that the two of you were hallways away from the exit to the tour bus.

The two of you pulled away panting, catching your breath.

“What the hell are we-”

Nick stared into your eyes, attempting to shift his desire into a glare as he leaned down to bite against your neck, nipping and kissing down the skin, “Just shut up, for five minutes. Please.”

A small whimper escaped you as his tongue grazed your collarbone, Folio’s fingers fiddling with the button on your jeans. You shimmed the fabric down your legs, kicking it off as you tugged at his tanktop, pulling it over his head.

His fingers gripped your hips, pulling them toward his own as he rubbed against your underwear, the bulge and stiffened desire evidence of how badly he wanted this. Reaching for the bottom of your shirt you tore it off your torso, exposing your chest.

Folio pushed your hips into the wall as his fingers danced along the hem of the thong you wore, threatening to dip lower to where you wanted him most.

“Please,” You whispered, desperation falling from your tone.

Folio shook his head, almost throwing his head back in humour, “We need to do something about your mouth.”

He pushed your shoulders, beckoning you to the ground before pulling his belt from the clasp. Freeing himself from his jeans, you watched hungrily as he gripped the back of your head, lining up his hardened desire to your lips.

“Open. Now.”

You obeyed, too turned on to fight back his commands. Wrapping around him you began to suck along the skin, closing your eyes as you relished in the feeling of how hard he was, all for this.

You reached up to stroke the base but he gripped your wrist, holding you in place as his hips thrust forward. He took complete control of how fast and how deep he went, using you to his desire.

“Your whore mouth exists for me to fuck,” Nick swore, his other hand holding the base of your neck as if feeling for himself through your skin, “All that backtalk can be shoved right down your pretty throat.”

Moaning at his words you closed your eyes, gagging on Nick’s thrusts as you took your free hand between your thighs, allowing yourself to slide past your panties to trace small circles against the skin.

Your arousal coated your fingers as your hips rutted against your hand, Nick’s fingers leaving your wrist to grip the back of your head. He pushed you down further on him, your eyes watering as he forced you to gag along his cock.

Air dissipated from your lungs, your body shuddering from the lack of oxygen momentarily before Nick pulled you away, causing you to cough.

“Fuck,” he groaned, almost chuckling.

You licked and sucked against him for a moment longer, before he pulled you up, gripping your hips. He kissed you desperately again for a few more minutes as his cock pressed against your thigh, before you pulled away, a hand against his chest.

“Are you going to just kiss me, or fuck me like you said you would?” You pushed, your hand gripping his erection, fingers dancing across his skin.

Nick moaned into your lips again before taking his hand between your thighs, slipping his fingers between your folds as he prepared your body for his, “Don’t make it a challenge, or you won’t be able to walk after.”

The brunette lifted your leg, gripping underneath your thigh as he hoisted it up to his hip, positioning himself against your arousal. It was a matter of seconds before he slid between you, your body taking him eagerly as your head fell back, mouth agape at the sensation.

He filled you fully, satiating the hunger you always had for the drummer as he began to thrust into your core, pounding senselessly. The angle gave him access to where you wanted him most, soft cries heaving from your chest as your brows furrowed.

Frustration dissipated into pleasure as Nick gave you everything, fucking you with complete adoration and need. Your nails gripped his shoulders, digging into the skin with haste as you rested your forehead against his neck.

“I hate how gorgeous I think you are,” Nick mumbled into your ear, soft groans escaping him.

Your laugh turned into a moan as his fingers trailed to stimulate you while he thrust, your body convulsing from the bliss, “I hate your perfect laugh, and how you have a lopsided smile.”

“I hate how talented you are.”

“I hate the way your eyes light up when you’re happy.”

“I hate how you walk with a skip when you’re excited.”

Your eyes lidded as Nick gripped the back of your head, forcing you to watch him as he spit on himself, lubricating your combined story as you pushed into him to meet his hips.

His thrusts began to waver as you clenched around him, the stimulation from his cock and fingers causing your legs to shake. Nick was close himself, trying to push you to the edge first before allowing himself release.

“I h-hate how-” You tried to get out your words as complete bliss took over, but Folio’s lips attached to yours once again, his pace never ceasing through your orgasm. Your walls engulfed him as Nick succumbed to you, his breathing staggered and haste as his chest vibrated in contentment.

His hips jerked into you as he allowed himself relief, taking over your body.

You watched him for a moment before his eyes met yours, lips agape in a pant.

The brunette shook his head as his fingers squeezed the skin along your torso, “We have two minutes till sound check.”

“Of course, you’re making us late,” you frowned.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Tags: @sammyjoeee @spicywhenspeaking @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @foliosgirl @thatchickwiththecamera @blackveilomens @xserenax-13

#nick folio fic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio smut #nick folio x reader #Nick folio #nick folio bad omens #bad omens smut #bad omens #bad omens band #bad omens cult #sorrows of silence #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers smut

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averydayss · 2 months

Text

Look At Me⋅˚₊‧୨୧ ‧

>>contents: in which Sunghoon becomes jealous of his admirer, y/ns new friend

>>warnings: fluff, angst, kinda cliche romance

>>now playing: Look At Me - Twice

Everyone in the campus knows of y/ns crush on Sunghoon, its no surprise that she follows him everyday, gives him lunch which he never eats, tries to strike up a conversation which he never answers and so much more. The head over heels girl was so in love with the quiet popular boy that never considered her a choice

"Sunghoon, good morning!" Greeted y/n with a happy smile, after all it was always a good day when she meets sunghoon first thing in the morning

As always Sunghoon didnt answer anything, instead walking away from the interaction. leaving a disappointed but not suprised y/n to stand alone in the hallway

"i don't get why you still chase him y/n, hes such a cold guy that doesnt even appreciate what uve been doing to him for the past months" said Sana, y/ns best friend who saw her interaction with him

"Dont be like that! Maybe one day he would finally see me as a someone, i just need to have patience" said y/n enthusiasticly

Sana only sighed and shook her head before dragging y/n to class

After class finished, Sana, y/n along with Danielle and Hyein all went to the cafeteria to eat. As always y/n prepared sunghoons meal beforehand

The daily routine goes about how y/n would approach Sunghoon to give him his cooked meal only for Sunghoon to give a slight nod and later throwing it away

As y/n was about to approach the cold boy, Hyein stopped her. "I don't think you should do it today y/n. I heard he failed his history exam and is in a bad mood today"

"Nonsense! I do this everyday, im sure by now its a natural occurrence to him" said y/n stubbornly, Hyein can only sigh at the realization that her best friend was head over heels for the boy.

Y/n approached his table, there was him and his other popular friends. "Hi Sunghoon, here's ur meal" said y/n while giving Sunghoon a lunch box which she cooked before school

She didn't expect sunghoon to suddenly snap. "God y/n why can't you realize that i don't like you? Is that too much to comprehend for your stupid and stubborn head? Do you not realize that i never ate your lunch? Do u not realize that i would never like someone as low as you?" Said Sunghoon furiously.

Y/n felt her heart shattering at his words, sure Sunghoon never said thank you to her, but he never snapped at her especially in front of the cafeteria, where everyone was watching

Sunghoon continued to bash her and humiliate her infront of the cafeteria, y/n just stood there trying to hold back her tears, looking at the ground

Danielle and the rest quickly approached the commotion and pulled y/n to the girls bathroom to fix herself. All y/n did was cry, she didn't expect for Sunghoon to humiliate her for the entire school to see, all she can think was the revenge she wants. She wasn't sure of whats happening but she is sure about one thing, she doesn't like him anymore

They comforted her and walked her to her next period

"Listen up students, today we have a new student" said their teacher

"Hello, im Soobin. Please treat me well" said the new student whos name seems to be Soobin

Y/n wasn't paying attention though, she was still in shock about what happened at lunch earlier

"Soobin can sit next to y/n, y/n raise your hand" y/n heard that and raised her hand

"Hi, I'm Soobin" said soobin who saw the gloomy girl

"Hi im y/n" said y/n shortly, again still sad about what happened

Although it turns out, y/n and Soobin seems to have a click. They enjoy the same tv shows, has the same opinions, understands each other's humor, they instantly became close friends by the end of the lesson

The next day, Sunghoon didn't expect her to not greet him first thing in the morning, instead avoiding him. At first he was feeling good with this change, it was one thing off his plate and now he didn't have to be annoyed by another admirer

Y/n was having a good day, she spent time with Sana, Hyein, Danielle and Soobin. The people who appreciates her and loves her for who she is

At lunch time, Soobin and y/n ate at the cafeteria together. Sana and Hyein was busy studying for their history test in the library, while Danielle was practicing tennis at the school field. Which ultimately left them both together to get lunch

Y/n had so much fun, Soobin's jokes were making her mood so happy today.

Unbeknownst to her, Sunghoon who arrived at the cafeteria before her was staring at her, he was confused on why she didn't even greet him, nor did she give him lunch today

"Seems that uve got a staring problem, u like her or smth?" Jay jokingly asked

"No? Why would i like her? Im happy that she's finally not clingy to me anymore, i never liked her anyways" said Sunghoon. Y/n heard that sentence and she feels her heart shattering once again

"Don't say that, she put a lot of effort on ur lunch that u throw everyday, atleast give her some credit" Heeseung, Sunghoons friend said

"Yeah, if i had an admirer that put in that much effort i would be honored, besides she's quite cute" Said Sunoo, who in return received a glare from Sunghoon

"Hey do you know that guy? He keeps glaring at our direction since we've arrived" Said Soobin, pointing to the person not other than Sunghoon

"Hm? I don't know him, he is probably just spacing out" reasoned y/n while trying to drag soobin out of the cafeteria

Sunghoons deathly glare at both of them certainly was a shock to y/n, usually he never even looks at her even if she tries to talk to him, but she ultimately brushed that thought to her just being dramatic

This went on for weeks, Soobin and y/n became practically attached (platonically) and Sunghoon would always often stare at them the whole time

Sunghoon still wouldn't admit to anyone (even to himself) that he misses y/n, her talks, her lunch, and just her being clingy to him. Until one day he finally had enough

It was lunch break, as usual y/n along with her friendgroup was walking to the cafeteria to get some food, Sunghoon knew this and took the opertunity to approach y/n and her friends

"Y/n can i talk to u?" Asked Sunghoon who was still giving Soobin glares. Before y/n can answer Danielle did. "What do you want sunghoon, leave y/n alone she isn't bothering you anymore" said Danielle while the others agreed.

"No i promise it's not about that, can i just speak to y/n privately for a moment? It won't take long" Sunghoon tried to reason. Finally y/n said "Fine, you guys can go to the cafeteria first ill catch up later" said y/n

Once they were finally alone, Sunghoon immediately said "Why do you keep avoiding me these past few weeks? I thought u liked me" said Sunghoon

Y/n scoffed "How do you expect me to keep clinging on to u after what you said? Its true, u never appreciated my efforts. I should've listened to Sana" said y/n with a slight crack in her voice

"What about Soobin, what is with that guy and why are u guys suddenly close? Do you like him now?" Asked Sunghoon bitterly

"Don't bring Soobin in this conversation, you know very well that this is your fault, me and Soobin are just friends, but whatever we would be is none of your business. I thought u hated me anyways? What happend to u having one thing off ur plate?" Said y/n

"I didn't mean it i swear, i was in a bad mood. Im sorry, i genuinely miss all the things u usually do to me in the past, i don't like it when u look at anyone else, look at me" said Sunghoon with a slight pout

"it's okay, i forgive you. Besides i kinda miss making you lunch" y/n said half jokingly

"I promise ill change" said Sunghoon while kissing her forehead

Since that day, sunghoon and y/n ultimately started dating (against Sana, Hyein, and Danielles will)

💳: divider: @iluvrei & @chilumitos! Other pictures are from pinterest, credits to all the owners

A/N: feel free to send in a request xx

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sukunasweetheart · 8 months

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can i just say i love your fics SMMMM my serotonin boost fr!!! what do we think abt him with an s/o who has a lot of admirers 👁

THANK YOUU here is a treat 4 u <3

sorry i ended up doing too much and also going off-topic a bit oops

it ended up becoming modern au!sukuna 😭 forgive me (gender neutral reader)

sukuna is so used to being the one overshadowing the others - he's used to being the one admired, revered, respected, for his power and intelligence. it's safe to say he'd also be used to seeing people fight each other just for a lick of his attention - desiring for even just a glance from his way. so it's a given that he's not used to feelings of possessiveness or jealousy.

but now that he has you, someone who always has others admiring you from both closeby and afar, he's beginning to understand those petty sensations and thoughts. he's obviously never one to be insecure about your popularity, on most occasions, he even likes to make a show of it - he enjoys seeing them gnashing their teeth with envy as he flaunts his relationship with you in front of their faces - "see this? all mine," he seems to say, as he openly kisses you in public.

but when it catches him on a bad day, perhaps following a bad argument, he sees you with someone who is obviously interested in being more than just a friend to you (which you're not aware of, frustratingly so), and he starts feeling sick to his stomach. with everyone else who came before you, sukuna would simply tell them "don't like it? then leave," whenever they voiced complaints to him about their relationship... but now it's the opposite of what he wants. just the thought of you being with someone that isn't him gets his heart dropping to the ground, making him feel restless.

he knows he isn't the best at being soft. nor at using the kindest words when he gets heated. he'll always be more selfish than selfless, and he's not the most emotionally intelligent. it's unlike him to use words like 'i'm sorry' or 'i love you' so he's uneasy for the moment where you might find someone who'll be everything that he isn't amongst your sea of admirers, and that you'll leave him and never look back.

it's simply so humiliating, feeling this way... he's not sure what to do about it. you seem to be seriously upset this time around, and he knows brushing past it or glossing over it using his usual charm (which is a bad habit that he has) isn't going to work. you're not acknowledging him or responding to his texts properly or saying good morning or goodnight and it's driving him insane because he misses it... you're not looking at him. he's the one gazing at you, longingly.

sukuna will pin you down eventually, somewhere, somehow, and trap you so that you're not able to avoid him any longer. he'll drag you away from your stupid little crowd of spectators and talk to you in private, where'll spend ten minutes trying to apologise in a strange, roundabout and aggressive way because he knows it's his own damn fault. you know him, so you're able to recognise that he's trying to say sorry. your gaze is still elsewhere, looking off to the side instead of him. and that bothers him immensely.

"why won't you look at me?" god, he sounds so sad and pathetic.

truth is, sukuna now simply withers out and dies a little without your attention. what can he do to have that spotlight upon him once again? why are your eyes on anybody, anything, that isn't him? pay attention to me, and me only.

when you finally spare him a glance, he feels like breathing again. and he'll fight tooth and nail to keep that gaze of yours on him. fuck your insignificant and measly admirers. he's all you need, and sukuna's going to make sure of it. (he'll compromise for you, if he has to.)

he's definitely overstimming you in bed that night, in order to catch up on all the lost pride and attention that you'd deprived him of.

tagging; @gojos-thot-patrol <3 hope its to your liking.. even tho its not as angsty as i originally intended it to be haha

Masterlist

#he's basically like a cat meowing at you for attention #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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vixensbrainrotts · 5 months

Note

Could u write one for baji where he has sort of a black cat gf? Like they're dynamic is: "staring into someone's soul" gf and "stares too just bc his gf is staring" bf

Opia - Keisuke Baji

Content: FLUFF

Warnings: a fight (relationship, external) mentioned, not proof read

Tropes: Black cat! reader, (kind of golden retriever! Baji), established relationship

Summary: You observe everyone maybe just a bit too closely for most people's liking, but Kei really doesn't mind.

Vixens two cents: I don’t really write for Baji but I’ll take the challenge, sorry if he feels a little out of character! Thank you for requesting and let me know how this is! If you find yourself enjoying this, please please please feel free to request something cause ASKS ARE OPEN!!! yeah, alright, now enjoy some fluff!

"OPIA" - verb, emotive

" The ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can be simultaneously invasive and vulnerable. " --

Baji knew you had a staring problem, he knew before he started dating you. Alone your dead-looking eyes was one factor in the equation, but since you had a distinctively bad case of „resting Bitch-face“, all scores were multiplied by ten. He was used for your glossy eyes to be staring dead at people, things, sometimes nothing even, just sorta dissociating out into space. At first he was a little confused, concerned even that maybe you weren’t getting enough sleep, or eating right, but upon asking you he found out that it really just was the way you were.

He thinks back to how he confessed to you: spilling some ill-rehearsed, grammatically poor lines of poetry he had smushed together over the past week after he found out you liked literature. You looked him dead in the eye the whole time, watching him fumble with his big hands and stumble over his words over and over again, because fuck the way your eyes were piercing his soul made him nervous, but your deadpan face didn’t move a bit until he finished with an embarrassing account of „Yeah so basically i was hoping you and I could maybe go out some time?“.

Then, your lips curled up into a small, sweet smile and you looked down at your desk and the letter and the little charm he presented you with. „Ok.“ was all you said, hands reaching up to the charm and securing it around your key-chain and looking back at him inquisitively. „Wanna ditch and go now?“ You actually isn’t give a damn, and he thinks that its one of the most attractive things about you.

And just like that, your first date was spent in a little cafe you suggested because „it has a great view onto the main-street“. So, over a creme-cake and a macchiatos you spent hours just people watching, which Keisuke came to find out was one of your favorite activities. When you first told him, he almost slumped together in his seat because who the fuck watches people for fun? But after you started pointing out little things to him; like the way that man was wearing two different shoes, or the way that that couple over there is passing for the third time already, he starts to see why you find it so interesting.

Soon enough after figuring out that you really didn’t mean any harm to the people you were staring at, Baji often caught himself turning to look at what caught your attention too. To his surprise, it often payed off, you had an eye for interesting, pretty, kooky things, so he made it a habit to look at whatever fell into your line of sight for too long.

This time, it was whilst the two of you were supposed to be studying at your place. Both of you were sort of failing the current Math topic, and with an upcoming test, you had decided to invite him over to yours to tackle the topic together. However, after around 45 minutes of hardcore struggling, you had lost a good bit of will and now chose to spend your time looking out of your window. Baji had noticed that the hypnotic rhythm of your pen scratching the square paper had stopped, so he turned to at you, half-expecting you to have fallen asleep.

When however he found your gaze fixed on something outside, his interest was piqued almost instantly. He found himself tracing your line of sight to see what you were seeing. Scanning the area outside your building, his eyes immediately found the hook.

There was a couple standing just outside your window, in the shelter of the bus stop that stood across the street. There was lots of articulation and hand motion going on, the man swinging his arms wildly as the woman tousled her hair and stomped her feet in retribution.

"They're arguing." Keisuke states into the comfortable silence between you two, but the words don't disrupt the atmosphere. A few moments pass in which you both watch them shout at one another, the woman now furiously pointing her finger all over the place, the man slapping a hand across his face almost comically.

"They have been for a while." you say back, head still resting on your folded arms, eyes trained on the scene.

"I wonder what it's about." Keisuke pondered, listening to the rhythmic in and out of your breathing, accompanied by the occasional crackling of a scented candle that sat on your windowsill.

A few more paces passed before you answered him. "I think its about a missed date." Kei hums in response, eyebrows furrowing as he glances to you. "How are you so sure?"

"Hmpf." You huff and shrug, the movement making your shoulders pop. "Just got a feeling about it... And look at the way she's moving her hands, pointing to something on her phone- looks like a serious thing, but not serious enough for something extreme like cheating."

He listened intently to your voice, but he didn't turn back to the scene, choosing instead to scan your body closely. The way your hair fell, the stretch of the shirt's fabric over the expanse of your back, the way your jewellery glimmered lowly.

Keisuke folded his arms akin to yours and lowered his head to rest right next to yours, finally getting a good look at your face. "That wouldn't happen to us, no?" he whispered to you.

Finally, you looked at him with those piercing eyes, and despite all the times he's looked into them, a shiver still ran down his spine and he felt his cheeks tinge with warmth. Your face was as blank as your eyes, but still you shook your head.

"Never." you whisper back to him, turning your head to lay on your arms like Baji's did. Kei felt a smile tug at his lips at how serious you sounded. "Good." he replied, voice still hushed as he came in closer to you, nuzzling both your noses together before giving you a tiny, soft peck on the corner of your lips.

When he pulled away and lay on his arms again, he saw your eyelids flutter to a content close and watched as your straight lips curled into a small, happy smile as you breathed deeply and allowed yourself to relax next to him.

Keisuke watched your breathing even out for a while longer, the gentle rise and fall of your ribcage, the occasional sleepy sigh and the sometimes rapid fluttering of your lashes as you seemingly drifted into sleep.

Kei allowed himself a bit of peace too, satisfied with how you've adapted a regular breathing pattern, and closed his eyes, intently listening to match the pace of his breath to yours. Right then and there Baji decided that perhaps people watching really is something wonderful when you're watching someone you love.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokrev #tr content #tokyo manji revengers #tr headcanons #tokyo rev #baji x reader #baji keisuke #keisuke x reader #keisuke x you #tokyo revengers fluff #fluff #tr fluff

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ladylannisterxo · 2 years

Text

Tell Me You Love Me

Pairings; Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Words; 3.1k

Warnings; S M U T (18+ only), fingering, unprotected sex, established relationship, fluff, angst but the kind of angst with a happy ending, ya know?

Summary; A heated argument leaves you standing alone when Steve slams the door behind him. You're not certain when he'll be back but you're determined to remind him just how much you truly love him when he does.

A/N: *slaps the roof of this fic* Ooooof, you can fit so much into this bad boy... we got angst, we got smut, and then to wrap it all up in a bow? We got tooth rotting fluff. Steve just really wants and needs love in this one, okay? And who are we to deny him?

This was requested by @harringtonforhire (thanks so much for requesting!) and this one kind of took on a mind of its own. I had plans for how I wanted it to go down but this is where we ended up sooo hope you enjoy!

{ masterlist }

Moving in together was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be fun. Up until this point, you had been convinced that every adult ever was full of shit when they gave you that knowing look and said, “moving in together is the real test, that’s when you find out how truly compatible you are.” No, it was you and Steve against the world—that’s what the two of you had said anyway—just you and him in your ridiculously small one bedroom apartment drinking and laughing and curling up on the couch to watch movies, eating absolutely terrible food because neither of you knows how to cook, and spending each evening making love because he was yours and you were his.

So how did you end up here?

The fights hadn’t started right away. For awhile, months even, it was true, paradisiacal bliss. But maybe the one bedroom apartment was too cramped or Steve was frustrated because Family Video wasn’t paying much or you were always stressed trying to balance a job and school. Regardless of whatever contributing factors may or may not be in place, none of them prepared you for the full screaming match that occurred or the words that should have never been said or the slamming of the door as he left.

Steve had come home in a sour mood, barely speaking, and then spent the next hour sulking around the apartment. You had been in the kitchen trying to sort out dinner and as soon as the front door had opened, you could feel the tension crackling in the air. He was acting like a child, that was your first thought, as he wondered from room to room mumbling under his breath and avoiding your concerned gaze.

“Steve,” you snapped, pulling him out of his mind and back to reality. “Can you just talk to me?”

“Nothing to talk about.” He shrugs, then departs the room as if that was going to clear everything up.

You gape, watching his retreating form as he exits back into the living room. A seething anger begins building inside of you as you follow closely behind, refusing to let this be your entire evening. In retrospect, you should have just let it go; let him sulk around for a bit and sleep it off, he’d be fine in the morning. But this wasn’t the first fight of the week and you were beyond annoyed by this point.

“Steve,” you say again, crossing into the living room and staring at your boyfriend who has now deposited himself on the couch, eyes focused on the tv. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?” His eyes remain on the tv.

“This,” you emphasize, waving your hands around wildly. “You come home in a bad mood and you instantly push me away.”

His eyes snap over to you. “I’m not pushing you away.”

“Then what the fuck do you call it, Steve?” You inhale deeply, trying desperately to quell the anger bubbling up inside of you. “You won’t tell me what’s wrong, you won’t talk to me. I mean, is it me? Am I the problem, am I not doing enough?”

“No.” He sighs, doesn’t elaborate.

He turns his attention back to the tv and you scoff, a biting sound if you’ve ever heard one. You move further into the room and place yourself directly in front of the tv, effectively blocking his view. His jaw tenses and his eyes grow hard.

Good.

“Stop ignoring me! You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to come home and be in a shitty mood all the fucking time. You don’t get to push me away, Steve!”

“Push you away?” He scoffs, pulling himself to his feet. “I’m the one pushing you away? No, you’ve got that backwards, honey, I’ve been fighting for your attention for weeks now. I come home once, maybe twice, in a bad mood and suddenly I’m the bad guy? No, no fucking way.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’ve been distant for weeks now. You’re rarely ever home and when you are, you’re always tired, you never want to talk. I mean, let’s be realistic for a second here, when’s the last time we had sex?”

“Oh my God,” you breathe, a sardonic laugh flowing from your lips. “Is that what this is about? Because I haven’t fucked you lately? I have a job, Steve, and school!”

“But I only have a job, right? Because I couldn’t pull the grades to get into a good school, any school.”

“Don’t,” you warn, “you know that shit doesn’t matter to me.”

“So, what? You’re the only one who gets to be in a tired, shitty mood from time to time because you have a job and school?” He laughs, a bitter and unkind sound. “But me, I should be fine, right? Because I only have my simple minded, ridiculously low paying job which I hate by the way but nowhere else is hiring right now so I’m stuck taking extra shifts and working longer hours just so I can provide for you, for us.”

“No one told you that you had to do that,” you yell, “I didn’t even know you were taking extra shifts because you never told me you were going to because you don’t talk to me anymore!”

“Oh my God,” he says, rubbing his hands across his face. “This is such bullshit!”

“Yeah? Well, I think you’re bullshit, Steve.”

He flinches, hard. All the anger seems to immediately drain from his body as he downturns his gaze to the floor. You stare back, unwavering, refusing to bend. In hindsight, you’re not proud of it.

He nods once, sniffs lightly and then whispers, “Yeah.”

And then he’s snagging his keys off the coffee table and marching towards the door. You almost call out to him, but you don’t. You almost run over to catch him by the arm, beg him to stay, to talk, but you don’t. It feels as if the moment stretches on forever in slow motion, giving you more than enough time to stop him from leaving… but you don’t. Then he’s out the door and slamming it so hard, it rattles the pictures adorning the walls.

You stand stock still watching the door, waiting for him to come back inside. He doesn’t. You wait in that exact same spot for another ten minutes, waiting. He doesn’t come back. You take a shuddering breath and slowly begin turning off all of the lights as you make your way back to the bedroom. He still doesn’t show. You fight the tears threatening to spill as you curl up into a ball wishing he was right there next to you, pulling you into his space, wrapping his arms tightly around you. But he’s not.

He stays gone all night.

==========

Steve still isn’t home when you awake the next morning and by the time noon rolls around, you figure it’s time to finally crawl yourself out of bed. You’re sure he’s at work anyway, giving Robin an earful of everything that had happened. The thought makes your heart ache. You’ve already skipped your morning classes and while you successfully managed to pull yourself out of bed, you end up dropping back down onto the couch to sulk there instead. Fuck being productive.

By the time six o’clock rolls around, you’re pretty positive he’s not coming home again until you hear keys jingling in the lock and quicker than you can process, you’re on your feet, breath stifled in your lungs. The door opens way too slowly for your liking but then he’s there, in his normal Steve Harrington glory that still makes you weak in the knees. He looks exhausted—his hair is an absolute disaster and his eyes are red rimmed, from lack of sleep or crying, you can’t be sure. But then those eyes are trained on you and it’s as if you’ve forgotten how to function entirely.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hi,” you whisper.

“I, uh, I just came by to grab some things and then I’ll be out of your way so no need to worry, okay?” He brushes past you, heading for the bedroom. “I won’t be long.”

“Steve,” you begin, following closely behind, willing the sob to keep itself from bursting forth. “You don’t have to go. I don’t want you to go.”

He doesn’t respond, only keeps his back turned to you as he begins rifling through the drawers. You approach him slowly, reaching out to rest your hands against his back. He stiffens at your touch but doesn’t move away. You take that as a slight win, a go ahead and you run your hands softly up over his shoulders and then back down to wrap firmly around his waist. You press yourself flush against his back, head resting between his shoulders.

“Please don’t go,” you implore, voice catching as tears leak from your eyes. “I was upset, angry but I didn’t mean it, baby, I didn’t mean it. I love you so much, please stay with me.”

He sighs but then he’s loosening your grip so he can turn in your arms. He wraps his own tightly around you and that’s when the dam breaks and the sob you’ve been holding back breaks free. He rubs his hands soothingly over your back, soft shh’s and it’s okay, I’m here’s falling from his lips. It’s just like Steve to comfort you even though you’re the one who hurt him—you squeeze him tighter against you.

“Hey,” he says after a moment, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

You unhook your grasp from around his back and let your hands trail up over his chest before you cup his face in your hands, keeping him looking at you. You couldn’t bear it if he looked away now.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I’m so so sorry and I understand if you can never forgive me—”

“—Baby, I forgave you the second I got into my car and drove out of here last night. I just, I think we both needed some space after what happened, after what was said, you know?”

You nod, your bottom lip quivering softly. He brushes his thumb softly over your lips, eyes searching your own for any hint that your apologies may not run as deeply as you claim.

“Do you—,” he stops, clears his throat, eyes blinking rapidly, “do you really think I’m bullshit?”

You shake your head vehemently. “No and I can’t believe I said that. I shouldn’t have said that, I’ve never meant anything less. You’re not bullshit, Steve, you are perfect, you are everything and I love you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes.”

“Say it again,” he whispers, brushing your hair out of your face, “tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Steve, I love you so much.”

He chokes on a sob and then his lips are on yours, forceful and insistent, and it steals all the breath from your lungs. You tangle your fingers in the ends of his hair as one arm snakes around your waist and the other cups your cheek. He begins walking you backwards toward the bed, lips kissing every inch of your face.

“Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

Then your back is hitting the bed and he’s hovering over you. You stare at each other then, taking one another in as it feels like days have passed when in reality, it’s only been a handful of hours. His lips continue their path from your lips to your jaw down to your neck as his hand snakes up underneath your shirt, thumb running against the underside of your breast before he’s rolling a nipple between his fingers. You arch up into his touch, a gasp falling from your lips.

Your hands are roaming all over his body as his lips and fingers continue their ministrations and without waiting, you untuck his polo from his jeans and forcibly rip it up and over his head. You toss it haphazardly to some far corner of the room before you’re running your fingers up his stomach and through his chest hair. He kisses you again, harder, and you readjust your position to spread your legs, slotting him completely between them. You can feel the firm press of his cock against your thigh and you whimper softly at the friction, wanting him closer, needing him closer now.

“Steve, please,” you whisper against his lips, “I want it. I want you.”

“Tell me what you want.” His fingers cascade down your skin, pushing your panties to the side to slide two fingers through your slick folds. “Tell me, baby, what do you want?”

“You, all of you, inside me.”

“Oh, you mean like this?” He pushes those same two fingers deep into your dripping pussy, pumping them in and out at a torturously slow pace.

You moan loudly at the intrusion, rolling your hips against him but you shake your head, fingers already scratching down his torso to begin unbuckling his belt.

“No?” He purrs, tongue flicking against the shell of your ear. “Well then you gotta tell me, baby. I can’t give it to you unless you tell me.”

You hastily finish unbuckling his belt and unfastening his jeans then you’re shoving your hand down to wrap around his hard cock. He hisses at the contact. “This,” you whisper, eyes staring deeply into his own. “This is what I want. I want your cock buried so hard and so deeply inside of me that I can feel you for days after it’s over.” His jaw drops open slightly. “Then, when the sensation starts to fade, I want you to fuck me again but harder until I can’t think straight, until I can’t remember anything but you. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, a teasing smirk adorning his face. “I love when you get hot for me.”

“I’m always hot for you, Steve Harrington, don’t you ever forget that.”

Your hands scramble alongside his own in an attempt to shove his jeans down his hips, just enough to free his cock. His eyes lock onto your own, a single breath passing between the two of you, and then he’s pushing himself fully inside. You moan loudly at the feeling of being so completely full. Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, you grip the back of his neck and bring him down for another heated kiss. His hips roll gently against your own, allowing you to take him slow and steady but oh so deep.

His hands come down to the hem of your shirt, shoving it roughly up your body and then off of your head. You arch your back, pushing your heated skin against him and melding your lips with his own once again. His fingers twine together with yours tightly as he pushes your hands up above your head, holding you gently but firmly in place. The stretch feels divine and every deep thrust punches the air from your lungs.

“Steve, fuck,” you breathe.

His thrusts are slow, precise, methodical but that familiar coil begins winding tightly in your belly and you know you aren’t going to last much longer. You tighten your legs and roll your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust for thrust.

“That’s it, angel,” he grunts, lips against your ear, breath hot on your neck. He releases your hands, one of his own diving into your hair while the other hitches your leg higher on his waist. “I’ve got you, let go.”

Everything is heightened. His thrusts feel harder, his touch seems hotter, his eyes look brighter. Your fingernails rake down his shoulders before you grasp firmly onto his neck for purchase as the pressure builds and builds and he takes you higher and higher. Steve drops his forehead onto yours, eyes alight as he holds your gaze… and then you’re falling fast and hard into the waves of pure ecstasy. A cracked moan falls from your lips, your back arches, and he releases your leg to wrap his arm fully around you, holding you closer than before, working you through your high.

You come down slowly, breathing deeply and he’s thrusting harder, faster chasing his own release. You brush his damp hair out of his face, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. A choked moan tumbles from his lips and then he’s ducking his head into the crook of your shoulder, moaning softly, thrusts becoming erratic. You press your lips against the side of his face, leaving gentle kisses anywhere that you can.

“Come on, baby,” you murmur, wrapping yourself tighter around him. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Steve thrusts one, two, three more times and then a broken sob emits from him as he crushes you completely against his body, finally finding his own release. A moment passes, you both breathing deeply from this unexpected excursion, and then he’s lifting his head to meet your gaze. A soft, sweet smile plays at the corner of his lips and you bring your fingers up to wipe a fallen tear from his eye.

“Are you okay?” You ask, trepidation winding itself around your heart.

“Never better,” he muses, “sorry, I think my emotions got the best of me there.”

You breathe a laugh as he rolls off to lay next to you. You turn on your side, resting your head on his chest and twisting your fingers with his own. His arm comes up around you, pulling you flush against his side, fingers tracing patterns into the skin of your arm.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head up to look at his face.

He’s staring wide eyed at the ceiling, breathing deeply. You furrow your brow in confusion and pull yourself up to be able to look down at him.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

His eyes flit to yours, softening immeasurably. He cups your cheek in his hand, thumb brushing against your cheekbone. You smile, turning your head to kiss his palm.

“I know you’re probably getting tired of hearing me ask this but could you, could you tell me again?” He flushes deeply, a dusty pink blooming across his chest and up his neck. “Please tell me you love me again.”

You grin, leaning down to peck his lips with your own. “I love you, Steve Harrington. Mind, body, heart, and soul. With every single fiber of my being. I am yours.”

“And I’m yours, every part of me,” he says, “God, I love you so much. I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shush him gently, feeling the emotions building up inside of him like waves on the ocean. “Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? Let’s just be, you and me.”

“Okay,” he whispers and then softer, “again?”

You giggle. “I love you, Steve.”

He sighs, elated. “I love you.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things #writing by 's'

5K notes · View notes

assembletheimagines · 2 years

Note

If ur still taking requests, hear me out 👀

Bucky x reader smut, were the reader is insecure about her looks, weight, appearence. Whatever, shes just not happy with how she looks, shes insecure. But!! 👀 hear me out. Shes got a praise kink, she loves it. But she also has a hard time accepting compliments cause, u know its hard XD so! Bucky finds out and essentially worships her relentlesly in bed, absolute best dude super sweet but isnt afraid to man handle. Like, oh u think ur too heavy? Bam im picking u up and fucking u against the wall, try me.

Im going insane. The THOTS im having 🥴 uhhhhhh ya anyway. Hed be so good and caring but relentless at the same time hed be so good i just know it broskee

Show You | Bucky x Reader

lmao broskee

warning: slight exhibitionism, praise, pet names, cream pie, 18+ to interact, smut

tag list: @potatothots @elle14-blog1 @getwellsoontana @avengetheunnatural @littlelightnings @alternativeprincess

summary: Bucky decides to show you how beautiful he thinks you are

You did try your best to be positive, truly, you did. But when you were walking past a mirror? Or when you caught your reflection in the shopping windows? Your mind couldn’t help but whisper.

Whispering negativity in your heart and twist your confidence until the smile that was gracing your lips only moments ago was replaced with a frown. It caused you to tug your shirt down to hide and move your hair to cover anything you couldn’t stand to look at.

And Bucky just couldn’t understand it.

His eyes catching the small moments that you thought no one noticed.

So, he started off slow.

When walking by you as he headed to the training room to meet with Sam. He directed his smile at you and greeted you with a, “Hello, Beautiful.” He enjoyed the way your cheeks darkened red from his compliment but you were quick to dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

And you see, Bucky was a man who had been touch starved for a long time and he wasn’t used to reaching out. But meeting you, it had changed him. And to simply put it, he couldn’t get enough. Wanting to be around you, to hold you, to tell you how beautiful he really thought you were.

He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see it yourself?

So he tried again, when he saw you in the kitchen struggling to grab a snack from the pantry; he didn’t hesitate to slide over. His height towering over you as he held onto your hip with his metal hand and grabbed the snack you wanted.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly and Bucky smiled, squeezing your hip in response as he nodded his head.

“Anything for you, Beautiful.” But like before, you shook your head in denial and left him with a frown as you went back to your room.

So, that’s when he decided, maybe you needed a different approach.

On a quiet Sunday, you were surprised to find yourself in a store with Bucky.

The handsome super hero following behind you diligently as you browsed the store slowly. You weren’t sure why he invited himself to join you but you did enjoy his company so you didn’t object.

Your fingers brushed along the clothesline, eyes roaming over various patterns and colors of dresses as you walked.

And you did your best not to pay attention to the other women who gaped and fawned over the handsome brunette behind you.

“That one looks nice,” he hummed as you lifted one dress up to look at it closer. You could feel his warmth as he stood close behind you and it burned a heat through your body. “You should try it on.”

You’re not sure if it was because of how close he was too you or because you actually agreed but you found yourself in a dressing room with Bucky right outside.

The dress was beautiful. Perfect for the summer and actually didn’t look half bad on you. You turned every which way to get different angles but we’re distracted by the shuffling outside.

“You have it on?” Bucky’s voice filtered through the door and you instantly felt nervous as you remembered the handsome man right outside. “Can I see?” Was his next question and you second guessed yourself as you stared further into the mirror.

“Uhm,” your voice went up in pitch from your anxiety and you tugged the bottom of the dress that fell just above your knees.

Your hesitation was enough for Bucky and he shocked you as he popped into the dressing room, quickly shutting the door behind him so no one else got a free show.

“Bucky!” Your alarm had him turning around and finally getting a look at you.

His eyes slowly raked over your body, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Fuck, you looked good. And with his lack of response, you shuffled from one foot to the other more nervous now you were trapped in a small space with the handsome man. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he whistled and your blush darkened as you pushed on his chest lightly.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you huffed and Bucky’s hands found your waist as he tilted his head down at you. “We could get kicked out!”

“You’re definitely buying it, right?” He completely ignored your chides and turned you around so you faced the mirror. He hugged you from behind and met your eyes in the mirror. “I’m definitely buying it for you.”

“Bucky!”

His hands ran down your sides and played with the hem at the bottom, ghosting over your thighs. You held your breath. “But you might be too irresistible wearing this around the tower.” He whispered right into your ear and your eyes widened, his words bringing a warmth between your thighs.

You tried again, weakly calling his name, “Bucky.” And his hands disappeared under your dress. His blue eyes darkening as he kept your gaze in the mirror.

“If you can’t accept my compliments, then I guess I’ll have to show you.” He murmured and your lips parted in shock, your back now pressed firmly against his chest. “But you gotta be quiet, Bunny.” He mused, a smirk dancing on his lips now. “Don’t wanna get kicked out.”

Your body froze as Bucky’s fingers danced up your leg, his eyes staring intently into yours through the mirror. “Don’t stop watching,” he whispered and you gasped as the pads of his fingers dipped and brushed along your clothed pussy.

You and him both groaned as he felt just how wet you were and he immediately used his free hand to cover your mouth as his fingers slipped under your panties and into your slicked heat. “Are you this wet for me?” He hummed lowly and your eyes clenched shut as he pumped two fingers in and out of you slowly, your moans muffled by his hand that was still over your mouth.

A jolt of pain stung through your shoulder suddenly and caused your eyes to fly open. You watched through the mirror as Bucky’s tongue swept over the bite he had placed on your shoulder as he continued to fill you with his fingers over and over. “I told you too watch,” he said and the soft noise of his digits working inside you filled the room softly. You blushed harder.

“I knew you’d be good for me,” Bucky hummed and added another finger. “You’re taking me so well, baby.” His praised enticed a whine from you and he felt your pretty pussy clench around his fingers. He smirked.

“You like it when I tell you how good you are?” He mused and his thumb connected to your clit. Your body jerked and he made sure your legs wouldn’t give as he rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves as he curled his fingers just right.

Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as his fingers brushed the gummy spot inside of you and you were thankful that his hand was over your mouth. The moan you let out was beyond sinful and had Bucky pressing his hard-on against your ass in response.

“Stay quiet,” he warned and then let go off your mouth as he slipped his fingers from between your thighs.

Bucky could see through the mirror how hazy your eyes were as you caught your breath. He gave you a wink as he licked his fingers clean, groaning softly at your taste. “C’mere,” he ordered and you instantly obeyed.

Bucky sat down on the small bench in the dressing room. He had unbuckled his belt and freed himself from his boxers. His length curving up to his abdomen as he pumped his fist over his girth, your eyes couldn’t stop watching the bit of pre-cum that leaked from his red tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Once you were close enough, Bucky pulled your panties down your legs and brought onto his lap. Your knees on either side of his hips as he lined his cock to your entrance.

He teased his tip up and down your folds, using your slick to coat his shaft as he pulled you into a loving kiss. “You’re going to be a good girl and stay quiet, yeah?” He hummed and you nodded your head dumbly your mind only on Bucky’s cock.

With one hand on your waist, Bucky slowly pulled you down and entered you. He eyes clenching shut as his head tipped back, he had to bite his lip from groaning loudly because you felt like heaven.

You on the other hand, clutched onto his shoulders as you felt every inch fill you slowly. He had to be the biggest you’ve ever taken and the stretch brought both pleasure and pain as you tried to contain your moans.

And once he was entirely in, his hand found the back of your head, pulling you into another kiss as you adjusted to his size. “Ride me,” he ordered and his hands grabbed your ass squeezing and earning a moan from you.

You followed his instructions and held onto his shoulder with one hand as your other hand rested on the wall behind him.

You lifted up on your knees, feeling his veiny shaft slide along your walls perfectly before going down again and stuffing yourself full once more. Your wall clenched around his girth and you began your pace. Bouncing yourself faster on his lap as each time brought you more and more pleasure.

“Looking so pretty, fucking yourself on my cock, Bunny.” He whispered the words and you felt more slick gather around his base. Bucky held onto your waist, helping your movements as he watched you. “Making a mess, you like it when I praise you, huh?” He cooed and the coil in your abdomen burned as your bounces sped up, chasing your release.

“S’big,” your eyes watered as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your thighs began to shake as your movement grew sporadic. “Feels so good, Bucky.” You whined and Bucky could have come just from that.

Your slick smeared down his balls as you continued to ride him and Bucky could hear the creaking from the bench underneath him. Fuck it.

Without hesitating, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you as he stood up, still inside you. The new angle had him sliding deeper and hitting your soft spot perfectly.

And when he moved you gasped, surprised and turned on by his strength as he fucked into you harder. “Watch,” he hummed and your eyes flickered to the mirror.

You could see your face over Bucky’s shoulder as he pressed you against the wall, bullying his cock deeper into your pussy as he brought you closer to your orgasm. “Bucky, I’m close,” you whimpered, nails digging into his back as he buried his cock into you faster.

“Cum on my cock, Baby.” He grunted and your pussy throbbed around his shaft at the thought. “Show me how good I make you feel,” his lips attached to the curve of your neck and your head tilted back, granting him more access.

It was too much, the drag of his cock hitting your gummy spot with each roll of his hips as he kissed your neck and whispered praise. It pushed you over the edge, your lips parting in a silent sob as you saw white.

You gushed around Bucky’s cock, squeezing him as he continued to rut into you, helping you through your orgasm. “That’s my girl,” he praised watching as your eyes screwed shut and your back arched in pleasure. “Fuck you look so perfect.” He cooed and his hips stuttered as you continued to clench around his shaft. “You gonna be a good girl and take my cum?” He asked you felt your head nod as you babbled a yes.

That was all Bucky needed before his cock twitched inside of you, his cum filling you up as he kept you pinned against the wall.

Once you felt your breath regulate, you felt Bucky slowly slip out of you. His head dipping down to kiss you as you felt him tug on your dress. When he pulled away, the tag for the dress was ripped and now in his hand as he fixed his slacks. He gave you another wink.

To say you hid behind Bucky as he handed the ripped tag to the cashier ten minutes later was an understatement. The cashier was probably blushing as hard as you as she rang you up, noting Bucky’s messy hair and both of your disheveled looks.

You probably won’t be able to step a foot inside that store for a while. But you can’t pay attention to that, not when Bucky leans over to you when you get in the car to head home and he tells you that if he ever catches you feeling bad about yourself again he would show you otherwise again and again and again if need be.

#assembletheimagines #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #smut

2K notes · View notes

sushiwriterhere · 1 year

Text

new rules

summary: "Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone. Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again. Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him." rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 8.5k (this got away from me sorry y'all) warnings: angst (lack of communication!), idiots pining, PiV (unprotected), oral (f receiving), hangman x phoenix (blink and u will miss it), no use of y/n. notes: thank you to @waklman for letting me bounce ideas off you! im very nervous abt this one, i feel like its dif from my other stuff so pls pls let me know what u think! my other works are here

Friends with benefits is maybe an inaccurate way to describe what’s going on between you and Bradley. Friends? Sure, since he asked you if you were using that bench at the beach and then he’d introduced himself. With benefits? You’re not sure if they really could be classified that way.

Bradley’s almost always a perfect gentleman.

He doesn’t ignore you in the daylight, but the two of you never talk about the way he finds himself in your bed most nights rather than not, drunk or sober.

It had started one night when you’d turned down an invitation to go to the Hard Deck, instead choosing to do a night of self care. You’d spent too long doing your eyebrows and managed to get a sheet mask to fully cover your face for once. You lost count of how much time you spent in the shower as an indulgence, and threw on the comfiest clothing you owned. Then, you sat yourself down in front of your TV to numb your mind with some perfectly trashy reality television.

Around 11:30, your phone had rang. Picking it up and squinting at the brightness, you saw Bradley’s face grinning back at you, the picture from one of your many beach days since you’d met.

Despite your best instincts you’d picked up. What if he was stranded? What if something had happened? You’d steeled yourself for the worst.

Instead, Bradley had just opened with a simple, “Hey.”

“Bradley? Is everything okay?” You could hear the noise of the Hard Deck in the background, but it had been yelling and there weren’t any sirens.

“Yeah,” His sigh had come over extra loud through the speakers, “Just uh, was just thinking about you.”

“Okay,” What the hell? You remember mouthing the words to yourself as someone on screen had thrown a drink in someone else’s face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He hadn’t responded to your question, instead he’d just said, “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I’m here. Bradley is everything–”

“I’ll see you soon.” And with that, he’d hung up with a definitive click.

You’d stared at the dimming screen of your phone for probably almost five minutes. Surely he couldn’t have been that drunk–god, was he planning on driving? Calling him during that was probably a bad idea.

Great, leave it to Bradley to stress you the fuck out on a Friday evening when you’d been aiming for peace. You’d tried to refocus on your show, but you weren’t even paying attention to the words.

No more than five minutes later, there had been a knock at your door. You’d stood slowly, not sure that this was actually happening.

You’d opened the door to a Bradley with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye, leaning against the railing outside your apartment. It was only after a moment of silence that you realized you were wearing an old Navy shirt of his, loaned to you at the beach a few weeks ago. You could feel the way his eyes started at your legs and dragged up your frame, taking everything in.

“Bradley?”

He’d pushed off the railing and backed you into your apartment, letting the door swing shut behind the two of you. You’d backed into the living room til your back hit a wall, your heart in your throat. You couldn’t look away from him, not with the way he’d been crowding into your space, leaning into you.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice was a tone he’d never used on you before, and you remember the way your heart had hammered in your chest.

He’d been so warm and so close, setting all of your nerve endings on fire. It wasn’t that you hadn’t realized that Bradley was attractive–the man’s whole job was to stay in shape and be clean cut. He was beautiful. But you’d kept that to yourself, afraid of crossing that line, afraid that you’d ruin something that was turning out to be one of the strongest friendships you’d had in years.

You still feel that fear, despite all the lines that have been crossed since that moment.

The way he’d kissed you had wiped every thought from your head. His hands had slid up your thighs to grip at your waist under his shirt hanging loosely on you. His mouth had moved smoothly against yours, making you sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

By the time the two of you had made your way into your bedroom, he’d lost every piece of clothing but his briefs and his dog tags. They’d dug into your sternum as you’d pressed yourself against him, the cool metal warming quickly between the two of you.

The way your blood had been rushing in your ears from adrenaline had drowned out the way he’d murmured to himself as he’d kissed down your body. He never did pull his shirt off you. He’d simply maintained his grip on your hips, lifting your thighs over his shoulders as he’d pulled your panties down and licked desperately into you.

Your hands had gone to his hair out of reflex. He had been rocking you steadily and you think you’ll always remember how you felt when you’d realized it was because he was grinding his hips against the bedframe, so turned on from getting his mouth on you.

He’d eaten you out like a man starved, his nose bumping into your clit as his tongue fucked you. It had been messy and loud but you hadn’t cared about the neighbors or your dignity, not with the way his fingers had finally curled into you.

“Bradley,” You’d gasped when you finally came, back arching and fingers tightening in his hair to the point where your knuckles ached.

He’d held you through it, had let you rock your hips against his face and not complained at all. In fact, he’d seemed delighted by the way you’d let yourself just feel, pleasure wracking your body and consuming your mind in a haze.

Kissing his way up your body, he’d slid his hands under the shirt and groped you gently. You remember the way your mind had stayed cloudy and you’d floated, tethered only to the real world by the way his thumbs flicked gently at your nipples.

“I’m here, I’m here,” He’d panted into your mouth as you whined when he’d sat back slightly to kick off his briefs and hitch your thighs over his waist, “I’ve got you.”

The first time Bradley had ever slid his cock into you, you knew you’d never be the same, that you’d never be able to go back. Not when he’d kept himself hovering over you just barely, propped up on his elbow, with his lips still brushing yours and his dog tags catching in the sheen of sweat along your sternum. Not when he rocked into you inch by inch, making the world around you blur into nothingness.

You’d let yourself fall apart under him, let yourself sink into the mattress and just take whatever he was willing to give you. He’d fucked you deeper and more gently than anyone before–to this day, you’re not even sure you can classify it as ‘fucking’, that always felt too vulgar for the way he’d brushed his lips over your cheekbones and murmured sweet nothings.

But saying Bradley had, and still does, made love to you means trying to find something from nothing, means discerning some sort of level of connection he’s never made clear. You’re not trying to break your own heart more than you already are.

In spite of that, you can’t forget the way he’d held you like you were precious, like you were everything to him. He’d cum inside you with a guttural moan, a punched out gasp at the way you’d clenched around him. It had made you realize that was all you’d ever wanted, Bradley warm around you and inside you, him making you feel complete in a way you hadn’t known you weren’t whole before.

He’d been a perfect gentleman when you’d both come down, easing out of you so he could clean up. He’d massaged your thighs and hips where you were sure you would’ve been aching the next morning if he hadn’t, had apologized under his breath at the fingerprints now dotying your hips. He’d thumbed at the collar of the Navy shirt where it had stayed on your frame the entire time, looking pensive but never saying anything.

You’d woken up alone the next morning, a sticky note on the bedside table reading–Had to run for work. Thanks for having me over. A messy heart and a hastily scrawled Bradley closing off the message.

And so it went. So it goes.

During the day, you and Bradley are the paragon of good friendship–he’ll send you memes when he gets access to his phone in between flights and lessons, you’ll pick him up after work to go to the beach. The two of you don’t talk about it–because what is there to talk about?

No words are ever exchanged about the way that Bradley clears out a drawer for you at his place, you just find a few of the things you’d left at his place in there one day. You never give back his Navy shirt, not when you find yourself wearing it more often than not. Nothing is said about how you start picking up his favorite flavors of ice cream and his preferred brand of coffee creamer, you just make a habit of throwing them into your cart when you go to the store.

And everything is fine. It really is. You disregard the side glances from Phoenix and Bob as they see you leave with Bradley on Friday and Saturday nights, you ignore the way Hangman wiggles his eyebrows at you when Bradley insists on paying for your drinks. Just friends, is all. Just friends.

They can make their assumptions, whisper while you’re out of ear shot, but they don’t see the quiet, comfortable domesticity that you and Bradley engage in when the two of you are alone. You go back to his after beach afternoons since it’s closer to your favorite spot, and the two of you will shower (separately) and make dinner together. Sometimes you’ll sleep over if you’re working remote the next day, sometimes you’ll go home.

On weekends, Bradley picks you up in the morning, trunk holding a cooler full of drinks and snacks, and you two will go to the beach again or go on a hike. Sometimes Phoenix or Bob or the whole crew will come along, sometimes they won’t.

Just friends. And it’s fine.

Until everything isn’t fine.

Bradley and you have been at this for a few months now, and you can feel yourself cracking. You’re reaching out to kiss him when you do wake up together, before your brain is awake enough to stop you, reminding you that that’s not what you two do. On an outing to a boardwalk teeming with life and populated by those games you can win stuffed animals at, you resist the urge to press him against the railing of the pier and lick the taste of your shared gelato cone out of his mouth.

When the dam finally breaks, it begins like any other night. You have a margarita and a half in you, some concoction that Phoenix insisted you try that’s actually good. Bradley’s already done a rendition of My Way at Penny’s request, but for now the jukebox is blaring some 80s hit Hangman picked out.

You can feel yourself swaying to the beat, just letting the warmth of the moment sink in as you’re surrounded by your friends, the people you love.

“Hi,” Bradley breathes into your ear as he sidles up next to you, his arms coming to settle around your waist. You can feel his warmth through the flimsy fabric of the dress you’ve got on.

“Hi Brad,” He hates it when people call him that–lets you get away with it though. “What’cha doin’?”

“Waitin’ for you.” He leans his entire body weight against you, making you slump against the table you’re standing next to.

“Ah! Bradley, stop it.” You try to stand, but the way he’s laughing makes it hard to shake yourself from his grip, “What do you mean you’re waiting for me? I’m waiting for you.”

The grin he shoots you is electric, and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, right here in the middle of the Hard Deck, with all your friends around and in Penny and Mav’s line of sight. That thought makes your heart skip a beat.

“Come home with me?” He whispers, just barely letting his voice rise above the background noise, and when you don’t respond immediately, “Or let me take you home?”

That’s all it takes, really, for you to agree. The way he’s so willing, so malleable, for you. You’re leading him out by the hand without responding to his questions, making your way to the Bronco that’s parked in the back corner of the lot.

Bradley keeps the foolish grin on his face the entire time he drives back to your apartment. The warmth radiating from him doesn’t abate when he licks into your mouth once the two of you are inside. One of his palms rests against your heart, the other working its way up your thigh and inside your panties that are already damp.

“You’re so good to me,” He murmurs, dipping his fingers below your waistband and brushing through your curls, feeling just how slick you are.

All you can do is whine as he picks you up and makes his way to your bedroom. For once, he doesn’t trip or stub his toe on anything, and it somehow heightens the intensity. Normally, you and Bradley seek comedic relief of some sort, something to cut the tension and keep it from making your chest tighten in a way that feels like a warning. This time, you aren’t granted any such reprieve.

He undresses you slowly and deliberately, letting his fingertips drag lightly up your sides and over your shoulders. He shrugs his Hawaiian shirt off easily, and lets you yank his wife beater over his head without complaint.

Then, the two of you are just staring at each other, both panting lightly. You’re propped up on your elbows, staring up at him only in your panties. Bradley’s got one hand about to pop the button of his jeans, but he’s frozen. You feel like you can’t move but also like something might be changing.

You don’t want it to change, you don’t want to lose Bradley in more ways than one. If this is what he’s willing to give you, you don’t want this to change.

He nearly falls over when his foot gets stuck in his jeans, and even that doesn’t break the tension. Once he’s climbing over you, enveloping you, kissing up your stomach and neck, you forget all about decorum and keeping up appearances.

The whine that echoes around the room is pathetic and high pitched, but it’s the only way you think to communicate to Bradley how bad you need him in that moment. His hips are rocking gently against yours and you want the layers gone, you need to feel him.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” And his hands are around your hips, dragging your underwear off you unceremoniously.

Although he makes a good attempt at going down on you, you don’t let him. You dig your fingers into his shoulder and yank at his hair to keep his face level with yours and kiss him desperately.

“I want to eat you out, please?” The depth of his voice sends a shiver through you.

Normally he wouldn’t even have to ask, but you don’t want that right now. You just want to feel him inside you.

“Need you in me, please,” You take a heaving breath before the pleading spills out of you, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

He shushes you as you scrunch your face up, not knowing how else to convey your desires in that moment, “Okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

You almost wail in protest when his fingers slide into you. You can’t figure out why you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out, why you feel so fucking needy.

“Sweetheart you gotta let me prep you somehow, just–”

You feel like the embarrassment might kill you when you keen at the feeling of his fingers inside you. The way you’re trying to be good, you really are, because he does have a point. Plus, you have to be fair to Bradley, this isn’t just about you.

So you hold still, let him work his fingers in and out of you as you pant and clutch at his shoulders like a lifeline. His mouth presses against yours, works its way over your cheeks and down your throat. He sucks a mark gently into your collarbone, and you ignore the way your brain reminds you about having to cover that up for work.

He doesn’t shut up the entire time, just keeps telling you how good you’re doing for him, how good you feel, how he’s been thinking about this all night. The world seems to go right-side up again when he pushes into you.

You whimper at the way he rocks his hips ever so gently before pulling out. He kisses you again and again, only letting his lips leave yours so he can kiss your forehead or cheeks. The motion of his hips is a steady tempo, he keeps time with your breaths that turn into moans when you start feeling that telltale coil in your stomach.

He runs his tongue along your teeth and you’re done for. You clench down on him and dig your nails into his skin, bucking your hips up as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave.

Bradley fucks you through it like every other time, yes, but this time there’s something about the way he stutters out a moan and his hips match the faltering rhythm as he finishes right after you. The shallow rocking of his hips continues and you try to ignore the prickling of tears at the corners of your eyes.

Something tells you that this time, you shouldn’t have let Bradley take you home. When he pulls his face back from yours and he rolls the two of you onto your sides without pulling out, he’s got this look on his face that screams unspoken words. He cups your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb without saying anything.

The two of you are quiet as he cleans you up, as you dress yourself in another one of his shirts.

When you wake up the next morning, Bradley isn’t there. It doesn’t shock you necessarily, sometimes he stays, sometimes he has to leave to be on time for work.

What does send a terrible feeling trickling down your throat and into your stomach is the post-it, all four square inches covered in sloppy hearts. Bradley had signed his name in the bottom left corner, characteristic chicken scratch labeling it as him even if the name wasn’t enough.

This has to end.

Don’t pick up the phone, he’s only calling because he’s drunk and alone.

You last about three rings before you cave in, waiting for the sound of his voice to echo around the apartment. You’re holding your breath.

“I knocked.” Is all he says before you’re on your feet, making your way to the door.

There he is, and although you know he isn’t really drunk, you know he’s got a beer or two in him from the way he doesn’t try to hide how he looks at you. You hate the way you’re weak for him.

You’ve been caving to him more than once a week since that first night, since Bradley had knocked your world off kilter. Though you’re in bed together almost every night, whether at his place or yours, you don’t have sex nearly every time. Part of you thinks that might make it worse. It really had been fine at first, but the first morning you’d cried at the sight of that sticky note covered in hearts, you’d known you had to try and put an end to this.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” He tries, a crooked grin splitting his face as he walks toward you, but you know he doesn’t mean his words at all.

“Bradshaw, have you been drinking?” You want to not want this, want to not want the way his gaze pins you down, the way the length of his body against yours just feel so right.

Let him being drunk and you being sober be the excuse, you beg silently. You can’t manage to force out that maybe he should go home, sleep this off in his own bed. You can’t find it in yourself to tell him to leave, to reject his advances. Watching as if outside your own body, he shuts the door behind him and walks up to you.

Your chest aches with unconfessed feelings when he takes your face in his hands and lets his forehead rest against yours. His lips are soft and warm against yours, his mustache tickling you lightly when it brushes against your face. The whine you let out matches his soft groan, and the two of you stand there making out for a few minutes, almost as if you’re both content to just drink each other in without further motives.

“I’ve got you sweetheart, I’ve got you,” And he’s picking you up.

You yelp at the way you’re suddenly lifted from the ground and you bury your face in his neck. You hate heights, your feet off the ground anything more than a few inches sends you spiraling in short order. But it’s Bradley who’s holding you, and some part of you knows he’d never let you fall, never let you crash into the ground.

The way you two fall into your bed is too natural, it makes your stomach churn. His fingers find their place on your hips, around your thighs. It’s all too easy. You wish it would be a bit more awkward, that the chemistry could be imagined or false–instead you’re confronted by the way your bodies flow with one another’s all too easily.

Again, somehow, you’re in nothing but his Navy shirt.

Maybe I should give it back, the thought flits through your mind and you feel guilty immediately. Bradley always seems to take a special sort of pleasure from fucking you in his shirt, and you selfishly want to keep that bargaining chip, to have something that tethers him to you. If he won’t come back to press you into your sheets, then maybe he’ll come back one last time to get his shirt when this inevitably unravels.

“Sweetheart,” He groans softly when his fingers reach the way you’re embarrassingly wet between your legs.

It takes everything in you not to jerk back from his touch–you still don’t know how to confront the way you’re so responsive to his touch. His mere presence.

“I missed you.”

It slips out before you can stop yourself, your lips part and you breathe the words before you can do anything about it. He chooses that exact moment to dip a fingertip into your fluttering, but empty, hole, and you arch your back and moan. Instead of responding, he kisses you hungrily, all pretense gone.

This isn’t something entirely tender, not anymore. He’s searching for something, a certain reaction, with the way he adds and then curls his fingers inside of you. He finds it when you jerk underneath him at the way he pets at that spot inside you you can never seem to reach on your own.

He mumbles against your lips, “There you go,” As you squirm under him, the press of his fingers inside you relentless.

He works his fingers in and out of you, not taking anything in return. It’s all you can do to hold on to him and whine pitifully. Every sensation feels amplified, feels electric because it’s him.

The two of you settle into a familiar rhythm for as long as it takes for Bradley to make you cum the first time. You’re rocking against him through the aftershocks and you can feel the way he’s hard against you through his clothes.

He’s still dressed. The realization sends a bolt of shame through you, but it doesn’t linger long.

He’s shoving his jeans down his legs, not bothering with wiping his hand clean and you shiver at the thought that he’ll have to put them on again, you streaked across them. He makes quick work of his boxers too, and it occurs to you that he must’ve lost his shirt somewhere along the way when he presses his bare chest against your still clothed one.

“Bradley, Bradley,” You chant, “Take off my shirt.”

It’s the most demanding you’ve probably ever been with him, but he laughs at you anyways. There’s a glint in his eye as he sits up, his hard cock bobbing between his thighs. The sight of his naked form between your spread legs makes you swallow hard and your mouth water.

“I like you in my shirt.” There’s something unsaid there, something about claims and ownership that isn’t truly possession, but a reminder of who belongs to whom regardless.

You pull it off your head in protest, and grab his wrist to drag him back down to you. You let yourself indulge in trailing a hand down the firm planes of his body down to where he’s smearing precum against your thigh. He’s heavy and pulsing in your hand and a light hiss rushes through his clenched teeth when you grip him tightly and twist with your wrist.

“Fuck, fuck, not gonna last if you–” Bradley cuts himself off with a groan as you swipe your thumb over his head.

It’s your turn to laugh, “You just got here.”

“Well, have you ever had sex with yourself? It’s tough out here–give a guy a break.”

The both of you dissolve into giggles at that, as you try to imagine how you would look sprawled under yourself. You can’t picture it, but the image of Bradley under or over you makes you think you might understand.

He lines his hips up with yours once you’re both done making fools of yourself at the thought of you having sex with yourself (it reminds you of a drunk hypothetical you’d spent thirty minutes on with Hangman once–would you have sex with a clone of yourself?).

The first push of him inside you cuts through the lighthearted mood immediately. It always shocks you how perfectly he fits inside you despite his size, how incredibly full you feel when his hips meet yours. The gentle friction of the neat curls at the base of his cock against your clit always provides a stimulation that makes your brain go fuzzy.

The snap of his hips against yours is more intense this time, a sort of rhythm that makes you briefly think about the way the headboard might start knocking against the wall. But all thoughts, really, fly out of your head when Bradley brings a hand up to your nipples, the steady stroke of his fingers over the swell of your breasts as practiced and knowing as everything else he’s doing to you.

All you can do is run your hands down his back, scratch your nails against his skin ever so often when he brushes against something so sweet and perfect inside you. You clench around him just to see the reaction it’ll get, and you’re rewarded with a broken groan.

“You’re not fighting fair,” He gasps, and he hitches one of your thighs up so he can press more insistently into you.

You have a clever comeback somewhere in you–something about how you weren’t aware that the two of you were fighting, but it’s swallowed as he presses his lips into yours again. He seems absolutely intent on showing you exactly how you make him feel because the sensations of pleasure become overwhelming.

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel perfect, god you’re so wet for me,” He’s rambling mindlessly, but you let it happen, clinging to any expression of emotion, any sliver of dedication in his tone that you can hold on to til the next time you find yourself in this position.

You know he’s close when his grip on your thigh tightens forcefully and the strokes go from long and deep to slightly shorter and stunted. He’s grunting and gasping, but it’s all the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“Come for me Bradley, I want to feel you,” And at that, he follows your orders, listens to you for once in his life.

Everything is hazy as he keeps himself hovering over you and continues to rock his hips. You start to try and tell him he can pull out before his fingers find your clit and he dives back in to kiss you passionately.

Bradley is a perfectionist at heart, an overachiever. You suppose it isn’t entirely ridiculous that that extends to his performance in the bedroom–he’s insistent you finish every time, and always more than him. Feeling the way he’s still warm and heavy inside you, his lips firm against yours, brings you over the edge more quickly than you’d like to admit.

Still, you heave a shuddering gasp and let the pleasure wash over you. It’s overwhelming and all consuming, but he’s there through all of it til you feel yourself come back into your own body.

You think he might be writing something on your skin, the way his finger loops and dips softly over your hip bone as he kisses you gently. He’s softening inside you and you can feel the mess the two of you made under your hips, except he isn’t moving, not yet at least, to rectify that situation.

For once, you don’t push him to go clean up or scold him for another set of ruined sheets, you just let yourself bask in the moment as you imagine a world where the two of you will talk about this in the morning. You think of a timeline where this is where you end up because it’s where you’re meant to be, not because it’s something you’re choosing despite how it hurts you every time. You think of a place where Bradley is yours and you are his, wholly and completely.

Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again.

“Didn’t you have a date tonight?” You breathe into his mouth.

Bradley just hums in response, brushing his lips over yours, down your jawline and your throat. His breath comes in warm puffs over your collarbones before he pulls back.

Hands pinned above your head, you squirm under his gaze. There’s something so intense about the way he’s looking at you, but you can’t bring yourself to squeeze your eyes shut to avoid it. Both of you lost your clothes somewhere on your way to the bedroom, and you’re thinking about how to persuade him to be the one to pick it all up when this is inevitably over.

He smells like expensive cologne, and he’s got some product in his hair that made it difficult for you to brush your hands through it earlier. Plus, Phoenix had been dropping unsubtle hints earlier in the week (Hangman had affectionately called her out, a little sigh following— “You’re being such a shit stirrer.”)

“Bradley,” You try again, this time with a slight whine.

Did he seriously ditch some girl that’s probably been waiting on their date all week for this?

He responds by whispering your name back to you, the same tone undercutting the way he says it, “That doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

The urge to keep complaining rises in you but he preempts your worries by licking into your mouth when you open it.

He presses you into the mattress, weighing you down as he kisses you languidly, as if he’s trying to taste every part of you, as if he’s trying to memorize the sounds that escape you when he does. The warmth of his body makes your mind fog, and for the time being, everything else but this goes quiet.

Distantly, you know that in the morning, he’ll have to leave. At the very least, he’ll have to go back to his to grab his stuff for the beach, a change of clothes. It isn’t kicking him out, but watching him leave again and again has started to build this pit at the bottom of your stomach.

It would be different, you think, if the two of you were together. Because then, him leaving wouldn’t mean much where there would be an implicit promise and understanding that he was going to come back. Every time he closed the door behind him, you swallowed the fear that that would be your final memory of him.

You’re selfish though. And you want to focus on the feeling of his touch instead of thinking about how you may never get to have this again.

He makes it easy. Bradley pulls his shirt off and his dog tags make a gentle clinking sound as they hit each other and then finally come to rest on his chest. He looks like a god, backlit by the setting sun coming through your windows.

This is how you want to remember him. Smiling down at you as he dives back in to kiss you breathless, twitching when you skim your fingertips up his sides because he’s ticklish.

He makes short work of your shirt and sleep shorts, then his jeans are discarded. He stops briefly when his fingers reach the waistband of your underwear, a silent question that you answer by lifting your hips and letting him pull them off you.

Every time he’s between your legs, he has this reverent look on his face, and it makes your chest twist at the fact that this time is no different. He holds your thighs open gently but firmly, and he presses his face into your pussy. Then, his tongue is darting out and licking up your core, flat and wide.

You’d asked him once, if he likes going down on you. With a gleam in his eye, Bradley had said it was second only to being inside of you. You think of that as he eats you out enthusiastically, as you bury your hands in his hair and pull.

He slides his tongue in and out of you, curls it around your clit and sucks in a way that makes your back arch and your thighs clenched around his head. Then, he’s slipping a finger inside and fucking you slowly with it. It makes you shiver as you realize how close you are.

“Sweetheart, fuck, you taste incredible,” He murmurs, more to himself than anything else, pulling back briefly to make eye contact and you feel the way your breath quickens at the intensity of his gaze.

It only takes a few more minutes of him licking into you, tonguing at your clit, and adding another finger before you feel that familiar swooping in your stomach, before you’re choking out his name. Your back arches so much it aches, but it’s all you can do as the pleasure is all consuming. Bradley works you through it like every other time, holding you and letting you take what you need from him.

Then, he’s on you in an instant, kissing you furiously and sliding his hardness up and down you, covering himself in your slick. It’s filthy and sloppy but neither of you seem to mind. He lets himself rut against you til you’re hooking your legs around him and digging one of your heels into his back.

“Alright, alright,” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but you know he’s more affected than his light tone lets on.

The first push into you is always the most intense, but you suck in a deep breath that you force out through your teeth.

“I know, I know,” He croons, pressing little kisses all over your face as you adjust to him.

Bradley inches into you slowly, inch by inch. The initial stretch subsides til it’s replaced by the sweetest feeling of fullness, the way you can feel all of him.

If there’s one thing the Navy’s good for, it’s the sheer strength Bradley possesses and has to maintain. You feel it in the way he fucks you, his back muscles rippling as you hold on for dear life. You feel it in the way his hips press into yours, shunting you slightly up the mattress.

For a while, the only sounds in the room are his hips meeting yours and the slick between the two of you. Momentarily, he pulls away from kissing you to look down to where he’s disappearing inside of you, that ring of you collecting at the base of his cock. His groan is guttural and broken.

“Fuck, Bradley, it feels so good.”

He leans down again to kiss you sloppily, and the simple action of him burying a hand in your hair and twisting his wrist makes your heart skip a beat. He always knows exactly what you need when you need it.

“C’mon, come for me, sweetheart, let me feel you.”

And because you’ve never been able to deny him anything, there you are, hurtling over the edge again. He’s everywhere around you, inside you, and his tongue in your mouth is the last thing you need to feel that wave crest inside of you. Bradley’s moan is deep as he feels you bare down on him and he follows you shortly after.

The moments after, when the glow is still settling and your mind is still hazy, are your favorite. Your mind is too foggy to focus on the fact that you know he’ll be leaving, but present enough to feel the way he doesn’t stop pressing kisses to your lips. You’re cognizant of how he cleans you up tenderly and presses his fingers into the skin of your thighs and hips just to watch it dimple.

In those precious few minutes, that’s all that exists to you.

Don’t be his friend, you know he’s going to wake up in your bed in the morning. If you’re under him, you’re sure as hell not getting over him.

You’re trying to ignore him, you really are. You start going to the beach an hour earlier than you usually do, hoping that he’s maintaining his schedule. Every tall brunette jogging across the sand sends your heart into overdrive.

You still see Bradley when you go to the Hard Deck for a drink, but you keep a respectable distance between the two of you. If Phoenix mentions a round of pool, you jump at the chance, while asking Bob and Payback if they’d like to be the opposing team. You ignore the way your heart jumps into your throat when you can feel his eyes on you.

Every note of Great Big Balls of Fire feels like a stab in the chest, and you hold back tears of frustration when you see some girl wrap her arms around his neck and rock along with him as he belts out the lyrics. You’re a fool.

You’ve been ignoring his calls about Saturday morning beach runs and the memes he sends during the day go unanswered except for the little reactions iPhones let you send. You suppose it’s only fair that he gets to ignore you a little bit too.

Your little charade doesn’t last long, not truly in the grand scheme of things. Bradley doesn’t put up with you skirting his advances for long–he knows what he wants and he’ll be relentless til he gets it. And right now, he’s trying to corner you.

And you’re weak for him. You should’ve known from the start that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You can’t even now, even when you’re only getting him in pieces.

It’s not exactly your bravest moment to be hiding slightly behind Phoenix so he can’t see you (if you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?) while she stares at you with an endlessly amused expression in her eyes. She doesn’t move to expose you, though.

“What’cha doin’?” Her tone is light, but you can tell she means business.

The two of you are friends yes, but she’s known Bradley for a million times longer. There’s some girl-girl solidarity, but if you were in her shoes, you might have a few bones to pick about potentially throwing Bradley to the wolves on this one. You wonder for a moment if he’s been talking to her about all this, but again, is there even anything to talk about?

“Just uh, trying to see where Hangman’s at?” You sound like you’re asking her a question, and she quirks an eyebrow.

She stretches the syllables of her next word out, letting it hang in the air, “Right. Even I don’t look at Hangman with that sort of intensity.”

That’s not entirely true, but you don’t really feel like getting into a competition with Phoenix of all people, over who’s looking at whom how.

“Sweetheart? Can we talk?”

You’d let Phoenix distract you for just a split second, and there he is, in all his glory. Bradley is beautiful, yes, but he looks tired. His sunny’s are hanging haphazardly from a floral button down that looks like it’s maybe seen better days, and he’s got dark circles marring the perfect tone of his tanned skin.

This time, Phoenix just side-steps you and lets Bradley into your space.

His presence is just as affecting there, in the middle of the Hard Deck, as it was the first time you saw him on the beach. Even with how tired he looks, he’s still glowing just slightly in the evening sun.

“Hi, Bradley,” You breathe, not daring to speak louder, as if that would make the moment real.

You can feel Phoenix’s eyes on you, the way that Bob and Payback are starting to let their attention drift to from the game of pool. This, you don’t want anyone else to be witness to. This is something between just the two of you. You don’t really need the whole world to witness your imminent heartbreak.

“I don’t want to do this here, is my place okay?” He looks so nervous, as if you’re going to push him away. It’s funny really, what you know is about to happen, and yet he still looks like this is about to break him entirely.

Nodding, you let him lead you out of the bar. It feels like deja vu, how however many weeks ago you were tracing these exact steps but making your way towards a very different fate.

The two of you are silent in the Bronco, and Bradley doesn’t bother turning the radio up to belt along to the 80s classic on the radio. Everything feels like you’re underwater, like the world is out of focus. You think you might start crying, but you try and swallow it down, be an adult.

Pulling into the driveway, it’s silent in the car when he turns the engine off. Neither of you go to get out, but you know you can’t sit here forever. This had to happen at some point, had to come to a close. That doesn’t make getting out of the car and waiting for Bradley to unlock the door any easier, though.

You toe off your shoes and let him get you a glass of water. Then, you’re standing on opposite sides of his kitchen, the pristine shine of the countertops and appliances making him feel a thousand miles away. You two are usually tumbling in, mouths locked together, or walking in with groceries, prepared to spend a comfortable evening cooking and watching a movie. This is everything coming apart at the seams.

“Bradley,” You start, not really knowing where you’re going, but just wanting to break the silence.

He looks distraught and your stomach drops with guilt.

This is your fault.

He says your name once as he settles back against a countertop, and it hangs in the air between the two of you, til he starts speaking again, “I’ve been trying to figure out where I went wrong, what lines I crossed, and I guess at some point I realized it was all of them. I shouldn't have pushed you, I shouldn’t have–”

“I thought that that was all I could have of you, so I was selfish and I took it.” You say, the words tumbling out of you before you can stop yourself from interrupting him, but still unable to tear your eyes away from him, “But I was hurting you. I still am, and god, Bradley, I’ll make it up to you somehow, I’m so sorry.”

It’s almost funny, really, the way you’ll look back on this moment a year from now and laugh at the way the two of you are talking past each other, unwilling to acknowledge that your deepest desires could be attainable. But for now, all you can feel is the guilt in your veins, your heartbeat pounding your chest.

“What?” He’d looked at the floor for a moment, but when you finish speaking he’s looking at you intently. “What did you say?”

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and start from the beginning, “I thought that you coming to me, like that, was the only way I could have you. And, and maybe it was me taking advantage because you were sometimes not super sober, but I would never–”

“I was always sober. Every time. I would never do that to you. What do you mean that was the only way you thought you could have me?” Bradley’s standing fully now, not leaning.

“I thought you drank before, to, y’know, make it tolerable.” You regret the words as soon as you say them, “Sorry, that’s–you’re not that kind of person.”

He smiles ruefully, “I’m still focused on the part about that being the only way you could have me.”

Here it is.

“I love you, Bradley. And not just as a friend, but more. But I didn’t want to push that on you, and so I thought–”

“You love me?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Then, he’s laughing in that hysterical way when people are so overcome, the only way it’ll escape them is if they double over in giggles. But he’s trying to compose himself as quickly as he started.

“I tried to tell you so many times how I felt, I left you all those post-it notes, god, I thought you were seeing them and just didn’t feel the same.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“The hearts. That’s how I,” He heaves a shuddering breath, his voice thick with unshed tears, “That’s how I told my parents I loved them before I could really write. I was saying it to you every time I left.”

“You love me?” You’re crying now, and he squeezes his eyes shut til tears run down his cheeks too.

His laugh is bitter but you know that’s not directed at you, “Was the sticky note covered in hearts not clear enough?”

You feel the way your cheeks warm and your stomach churns as you try and defend yourself, “You were thanking me for letting you sleep over?”

At that, he laughs, genuine this time, breaking the sadness that has been building in the air. Finally, he makes his way across the room to you and crowds into your space, wrapping you in his arms and pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes are closed.

“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, a plea, and a prayer all in one. “I meant every heart, every I love you, from the very first one I left.”

“I kept them all. In my bedside table.”

Then his lips are on yours. The kiss is salty, reminding you of all the emotion that’s been building for the past few months, every moment you didn’t confess, every moment you assumed the worst, it’s all there. But you don’t want to dwell on that now, now that you’ve heard him say something plucked from your wildest dreams.

“Say it again,” You whisper when his lips leave yours ever so briefly as the two of you are stumbling to the bedroom.

And he does. As he’s undressing you, he says it. He mumbles it against your lips and into your mouth.

He says it against your bare skin as he presses you into his bed, the sheets smelling like him before he puts on cologne. It’s muffled momentarily by the way he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, but you feel the way his jaw works anyways as you cup his face. You let your legs fall open around him and feel the way he slides his fingers into you.

When he’s pressing into you, he’s saying it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

In those moments between start and finish, when the world falls away and all you know is the warmth of his body against yours, the slight slick of sweat on your skin, that’s when you think you realize that he means it. The motion of his hips is deep and insistent, as if to try and leave a permanent reminder that he was there.

You’re crying, you realize. And he’s kissing the tears away like it’s the most natural thing in the world, pressing his forehead to yours as his lips keep forming the words. At some point, you’ve started saying them back to him too, choking them out despite everything so that you know that he knows that you love him.

When you finish, it feels like a supernova exploding inside of you. It starts in the center of your body and pushes its way to your fingertips til you’re gasping for air and he fucks you through it. Bradley cums moments later, filling you with his warmth in a way that’s both familiar and still thrilling.

He rolls gently off you, and you hiss as he slips out. That’ll be a mess to clean up.

But he’s looking at you, brushing your sweaty hair from your face, and his eyes are shining so brightly that it feels like looking at the sun. You want to look away, but you think that losing your vision in return for staring at the way his eyes crinkle in genuine happiness is well worth the price.

I love you, he mouths. And you believe him.

You whisper it back.

tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @bradshawburner @gretagerwigsmuse @sometimesanalice @joaquinwhorres @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @bradshawsbitch @seresinsweetie @notroosterbradshaw @genius2050 @peachystenbrough @rhettabbotts @theharddeck @wkndwlff - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #no use of y/n

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hearts-4-vicky · 5 months

Text

ugh this girl shes so cute like… im actually so down BAD its not even funny

Hi my loves🫶🏼 this was supposed to be longer n come quicker but i forgot to save my draft n i was so fucking done UGHHHH.. I just wanted to put something out for you guys as a thank you for all the support my last post got❤️❤️❤️ I never thought id be postin on here but 😛

anyway, tall! bodyguard! fem reader x wonyoung has been taking over my mind lately yall dont even understand 😭🙏 (this isnt proofread cuz im so done, so sorry my loves if theres something wrong😔)

lets say ur a bit older than Yujin (like by a couple months) n ur first official job as a bodyguard is to make sure Ive makes it to a pop up event safely😝 Starship hired so many of u guys because sasaengs have been appearing more frequently than before. So here comes you and like nearly 3 dozen more guards though you stand out due to how tall u r😍😍😍(like taller than 6’4 cuz babygirl wony is already tall asf😔🙏) n your build (muscular women r so fine UGHHHH)

You and the rest of the squad were walking to the girls big ass dressing room, though you felt many eyes on you. Its something you’re used to, always being the tallest in the room (cant relate😭) Arriving at the dressing room door gets you a bit nervous since you know how big ive is as a group and how stunning they are😍😍😍 Once you guys were given the green light to enter, you need to lean down to fit through the door. seeing this, one of your colleagues snickers, making you roll your eyes.

Ive’s manager introduces you and the rest of your crew to the members, short n sweet. As their manager was just giving a brief run down abt whats gonna happen once you guys arrive, Wonyoung notices you. You were much taller than her and stronger too from what she can see😍 baby girl would be so shocked since most girls shes met have never been taller than her🥺 She was so focused on you that she didnt notice how one of her members eyes were also glued to you😛

ur bitch ass was zoning the fuck out but still kinda listening to the manager but you noticed how drop dead gorgeous the members were (same) though you were always drawn to the tallest member. Her beauty had you practically fawning over her that you didnt even notice the rest of the squad (ayeee pull up wit da gang😝😝😝😝 im so sorry) left to go to the vans you all arrived in😭 Flustered at this, you jog to the door to catch up, hitting your head on the doorframe in the process 🥺🥺🥺 You hear giggles after, but failing to notice how Wonyoung’s eyes were full with concern. Whimpering at the slight sting, you hold your head while still trying to catch up with the rest.🥺🥺🥺

Wonyoung watches as you disappear into the distance, pouting as she hears her members talk about how cute you were🙏 she starts paying attention after hearing yujin ask if they was a chance you were single😭 “Maybe, but not after im done talking with her..” Gaeul says proudly, though its short lived as Wonyoung hears Rei respond “Unnie, she’d have to go her her knees to kiss yo-“YAH!” The room fills with laughter as the eldest sulks in her spot, mumbling how unfair life is. Wonyoung’s mind goes back to you, not wanting to hear her members talk about how they want to get to know you more😜

timeskip to the event cuz im SICK AND TIRED OF THIS APP.

You and the other bodyguards line up behind each side of the rope safety barriers (is that what its called…) You were near entrance of the building and could already seen waves of people try to get a glimpse of the idols that were soon to arrive

As the van pulls up you can hear the crowd getting louder by the second. They only get louder as the girls start to come out, first with Yujin, then Gaeul, Rei, Wonyoung, Liz, and lastly Leeseo. Camera flashes and screams fill the air as the girls walk to the entrance of the building. They do their best to get there in a short amount of time while also interacting with fans

It was going smoothly, with the three eldest already at the door, waiting for the other members. Wonyoung was just a couple steps away from them before a man grips her wrist and pulls her closer to him. She tries to fight back but he is much stronger, tightening his already harsh grip. You act quickly, making the man let go and shoving him as hard as you can. He has a pissed off look on his face but it soon turns to fear as he sees you towering over him. The man nearly shits his pants after you bend your knees to be at eye level with him, hearing you call him the harshest words that come to mind.

After that, you let another bodyguard deal with the man as you turn your body to face the shaking girl. (babygirl was a bit scared cuz u seemed so pissed🥺🥺🥺) Your eyes soften at her state, shes frozen in her spot with widen eyes. Wonyoung focuses on you as you lean down to quietly talk to her. Her eyes are pretty is the first thing that comes to Wonyoung’s mind. She gazes upon your features for what feels like years, her admiration soon turning into attraction for you as she holds her now red wrist. You notice this, cursing the man in your head as you take a closer look at her wrist. holy fuck that shit is red, you meet her eyes once more, taking note on how hers seem to shine in the sunlight. “Are you feeling alright, Miss Jang?” you say in a sweet, soft tone. Wonyoung feels her heart start to race at how soft you are with her, a big contrast to how you acted to the man (duh)

“Oh-Yes! I’m okay, just a bit shaken up..” Wonyoung didnt respond right away since your warm aura made her start to relax. You nod, “Do you want me to escort you to the door?” She starts to nod, but is interrupted by her members rushing to her side asking her if shes okay. You step back, giving them their time but also waiting for her answer. After Wonyoung reassures them that shes fine she turn to you, nodding to your question from before. You failed to notice how her cheeks flushed a light pink as you walked behind her to the door🥺🥺🥺

time skip cuz its literally 1:30 am rn….

You didnt just walk her to the door but instead everywhere. You would only leave her side if she needed to take photos or use the restroom (though you were right outside the door just in case) You were following her around like a velcro puppy (clingy dog) 🥺🥺 Wonyoung thought you were so cuteee😭 she thought you were like a newfoundland puppy cuz ur so big UGH🥺 She watched as your eyes practically sparkled whenever you say something you liked or if someone brought up a topic you were interested in❤️❤️❤️ Babygirl was falling for you so hard rn

As the event was coming to an end, she wanted to go to the restroom before they left (it was an excuse to get you alone with her🫶🏼) She stopped right in front of the ladies door, making you confused. Wonyoung turns to you, leans toward you while slipping a piece of paper in your hand. She ran away shortly after to go to the rest of her members. It all happened so fast you were slow to comprehend what just happened. Reliving the moment for a few seconds you realizing she had kissed you on the cheek.

You place your empty hand over the cheek, now adored with a lipstick mark, as you smile like a dumbass😭 you hear your name being called to leave as well but before going over there, you read the note.

“Yn, I just wanted to thank you for making me feel safe and for getting to know me. I hope we meet again, as friends or maybe more?

XXX-XXX-XXXX

-Wonyoung <3”

You nearly fainted reading that last part.

OH MY GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG💀

guys if u ever write on this app MAKE SURE YOU SAVE PLEASE…. (my asks r open if u want this to be continued or if u wanna request something❤️)

kk love you guys🫶🏼 be safe, and have a good day❤️

#wonyoung date me #ive wonyoung #jang wonyoung #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyoung x reader #stan ive #ive x reader #izone #I MISS IZONE #izone x reader #wlw #fluff #my bbygirl #vicky thoughts

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makethatelevenrings · 1 year

Text

Breakfast for Three // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: reader has a kid, swearing, talks of poverty (if u haven’t been able to figure out, I am a leftist and I am tucking my lil handkerchief into my collar and preparing to eat billionaires)

Summary: Being a single parent is hard. Being a single parent in Gotham feels impossible sometimes. Two people change things for the better.

Listen, raising a child on your own was a test on its own. But being a single parent in Gotham? You had to be absolutely out of your mind.

But you loved your kid. You wouldn’t go back and change your decision. Every morning, you woke up to the giggles and shrieks of your four year old climbing all over you. Lucy was always up before your alarm and while you needed every minute of sleep, you would miss these moments whenever she became too cool to hang out with her mother. So you just bundled her wriggling body up into your arms and peppered her head with kisses as she laughed and wrapped her little octopus limbs around you.

Breakfast had moved from a coffee and a granola bar as you rushed out the door to work to Bluey pancakes for Lucy and even more coffee for you before you rushed out the door to get her to preschool and you to work. Every day felt like it was flying by too quickly.

Her birthday was quickly approaching and that’s how you found yourself out on the fire escape of your apartment with the baby monitor clutched between your hands and sobs escaping you despite your best efforts to stifle your cries.

You couldn’t afford any of the popular toys or games that kids were obsessed with. Hell, you could barely afford rent this month. Living in Gotham wasn’t as bad as other places in terms of rent but raising a kid was expensive and you were struggling to make ends meet thanks to work being slow. God, she was going to be so disappointed. Maybe you could start eating only one meal a day? That would save some money on groceries…

“Are you okay?”

The voice came from the shadows and the subsequent heart attack you received practically launched you into the air. The person cursed and then stepped out of the shadows. Okay, less scary but still pretty fucking terrifying. Red Hood stared down at you, or at least, you thought he was looking at you. The helmet made it difficult to figure out what direction he was facing.

“I said, are you okay?” he repeated in a gruff, no-nonsense voice. You nodded quickly and swiped away your tears with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Don’t you have skulls to bash in or something?”

A huff of laughter escaped the vigilante’s helmet and you cocked your head to the side. He could laugh? He was capable of humor? Surprises were all around tonight.

“Already did that. And then I heard someone sounding like they just watched Marley and Me three times in a row and figured I should come check.” He eased himself into a crouch next to you and you admired how large and imposing he was yet he didn’t seem terrifying when he was next to you. You weren’t his target so there was no reason to fear him.

“Gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s stupid,” you muttered. You turned your attention back to the baby monitor to see Lucy fast asleep in your bed. The one bedroom apartment you rented didn’t have space for another bed so the two of you shared one. Luckily, she was a deep sleeper so she never stirred when you crawled in a few hours after her bedtime and got up early in the morning to get ready for the day.

“Nothing that makes you cry is stupid,” Red Hood retorted. “Hit me with it.”

“My kid’s birthday is coming up and I don’t have the funds to pay for anything. I can barely keep our heating on. She’s going to hate her birthday and I’ll have ruined it forever. I’m already working sixty hours a week, but I can’t ask Mrs. Hayes to watch her longer. Fuck.” You scrubbed a hand down your face and bemoaned your rotten fucking luck. Fuck your shitbag ex. Fuck the system that prevented single parents from succeeding. Fuck it all.

Rustling beside you made you look up to find Red Hood rummaging through his pockets. He let out a triumphant hum and then outstretched his hand. A stack of bills rested in his gloved palm and your eyes widened at the offering.

“Absolutely not,” you blurted out. “I’m not taking blood money from you. Who knows where that’s come from? And what if you show up in five years demanding the money back with some huge fucking interest rate?”

He chuffed out another laugh. “Christ, your mind is an interesting place. It’s legit, I promise. And it’s not a loan. It’s a gift. Take it. I’ve got enough cash.”

You watched him warily as you reached out and grasped the money. Your lips moved as you counted out the values silently and inhaled sharply once you got to the end. Three thousand dollars. That would pay rent for two months, leaving your paycheck to cushion you.

“Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you so much,” you gasped. But when you looked up, there was no sight of Red Hood. He had simply disappeared into the shadows once again. Only the rough paper of cash in your hands made you realize that it wasn’t a dream.

You spent the rest of the night going over your finances and figuring out where you could use the cash and how much you could spend on Lucy. With enough to bolster you for a bit, you decided to take her by a bakery on her way to pre-school. With her dinosaur backpack firmly settled on her back, Lucy bounded towards the bakery with you hot on her heels. Where the hell did she get all this energy?

“Woah,” a man exclaimed as Lucy tripped on a raised edge of the sidewalk. He caught her before she went sprawling onto the pavement, saving you from a torrent of tears and skinned knees.

“Gotta be careful there, kiddo,” he said as he righted her. You caught up to her finally and kneeled down to check her for injuries. Unscathed, thanks to the stranger. You raised your head to meet his eyes and thank him and found yourself captured by searing teal eyes.

“Thank you,” you blurted out. “I should really get her one of those backpack leashes.”

His full lips curled up into a grin and your heart stuttered at the sight of it. Small scars littered his tan skin, but it only added to the handsome rogue look he had going for him.

“I get it. The cinnamon rolls at this place are fu-” His eyes darted towards the squirming child in your hands. “Freaking amazing. I practically run here every morning to get one.”

Lucy gasped. “You like cinnamon rolls?”

The man shrugged. “Well, yeah, who doesn’t?”

“Sad people,” she replied wisely. You burst into laughter at the solemnity of her words and leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“I love you, kid,” you announced.

“Love you too, mommy. Can we go now?”

You stood up to your full height and the man did the same, but he was much taller than you. He offered his hand and you shook it.

“I’m Jason. How about I buy you two breakfast?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do it. If anything, I owe you.”

His smile grew and you marveled at the slight dimple in his chin. “Yeah, but this way I can be a gentleman before I ask you out.”

There was no way this exceedingly handsome, Adonis-like man was asking you on a date. No fucking way. You had toothpaste on your shirt and a four year old currently clinging to your leg. No man had even looked at you since your ex knocked you up and left.

But he was kind and genuine and there was some kind of soft emotion in his eyes that made you want to ask him how the world had hurt him. And Lucy seemed to like him from just their first meeting.

“Okay. Breakfast sounds nice.”

If only you knew how a simple breakfast would change your life forever.

tag list: @mcrmarvelloki @gone-batty-fics @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @kat-nee @khaylin27 @igotanidea @princessbl0ss0m

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd fluff

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lemon-natalia · 4 months

Text

Gideon the Ninth Reaction - Chapter 20

i just wanna apologise in advance for how long these posts are getting lol, i have a lot of Thoughts about this book

oh wait nope they are going back to the creepy lab where two people just got murdered. great plan guys

Dulcinea wanting to team up surprised me a little, but it really shouldn't have. she's been paying a lot of attention to the Ninth, and especially Gideon.

'thousands of years after you're gone ... is when you really live' this is such a different, almost warmer, perspective on death and necromancy, and i can see why it appeals to Dulcinea specifically, who's clearly had to come to terms with her mortality pretty early on in life. but its also part of the more disturbing theme that the past never really goes away, and can't help but view this line along the same lines of discovering the ancient study last chapter, and the ancient laboratory, and Canaan House in general, which are only just now having their secrets revealed, and the terrible consequences of those secrets becoming apparent, after thousands of years

'she grasped a railing, leaned over, and proffered her hand' well this is getting very courtly romance

ah yes lets go through the door decorated with a swirl of human teeth, i'm sure there's happy fun times to be had in there. harrow, resident goth interior designer who specialises in bone decor, is probably taking notes as we speak

even after hurting her hand twice, Harrow really just can't resist experimenting even further huh. she's so very reluctant to accept that her existing powers aren't enough by themselves for this

ooohhhh, having to literally suck the life force out of your cavalier to win?? thats so sick and twisted and i love it. these challenges are, again, clearly relying on this intense relationship between the pair, both in trusting them absolutely and in this literal soul-siphoning/melding link thing.

however, it feels like Gideon's really getting the brunt of it in these challenges. Harrow's absolutely putting in an awful lot of effort and power, but it's the cavalier who has to fight the bone amalgamation, the cavalier who has to have their life literally siphoned out. they're about trust and a bond between them, but also seemingly about a willingness to sacrifice your cavalier to achieve that goal, and i have a really bad feeling about where exactly this is going in terms of how exactly one achieves lyctorhood

'under no circumstances will i ever desire your juice' Harrow you may wish to revisit this sentiment when you guys (to my limited knowledge) eventually become girlfriends

'none of this is worth it, at all [...] i'm sorry. We take so much' i'm like 90% sure the voice talking to Gideon throughout all this was Dulcinea, largely because it doesn't really make sense for it to be anyone else, but there were certain lines, specifically these ones, that made me suspicious at first it might be some(one? thing?) else. but it also feels fitting that its Dulcinea coaching her through this.

wow, just wow, i'm really impressed with the writing in this chapter, and how the pain Gideon is feeling is expressed. its such an abstract experience/feeling to describe, but i think its done incredibly well

'Ha-ha, said Gideon, first time you didn't call me Griddle, and died' ok i know she didn't but THANKS for giving me an absolute heart attack with that sentence Tamsyn Muir

Harrow i get understand u are protective of Gideon but let Dulcinea comfort her plz

'you can't just ask someone why they want to be a Lyctor'. ahh the duality of Gideon the Ninth. this just evocative prose about how it feels to be on the brink of death, and then immediately afterwards hits you in the face with a mean girls reference. beautiful, iconic, effervescent.

#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb #tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb liveblog

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b1mbodoll · 9 months

Note

can you do g!p gamer sakura, being like her cum dump/urinal, so like while she’s streaming or sum she’ll just have you kneeling under her desk for her to use whenever she needs like why have her waste her time and walk all the way to the bathroom when you’re there?

pairings: miyawaki sakura x f! reader

warnings: g!p + perv! hentai addict’ kkura + oral + omorashi + pet play + breath play + collars

💌: omg omg omg this is so !!!!!!! 😵‍💫 !!!!!!! thank u sosososo much for sharing this im kissing u on the lips rn this is so important to me ps !! i kinda took some inspo frm this hentai lmfaoskdf its filthy

sakura’s addicition to using every single one of your holes is almost scary. her brain is fucking fried from all the dirty video games she plays and the disgusting hentai she watches. makes you sit under her desk and suck her off <3 likes to dress you up like her favorite characters too! there’s countless animal ears n tails to choose from and every time you wear them expect to be covered in cum.

your girlfriend’s been fucking your mouth for what feels like hours n whenever you try to take a breath she pulls on your leash, making you gag around her dick. “kkura! stop please, need some air.” you whine, words slurred from the amount of cum and spit leaking out of your mouth and her girthy cock violating your throat. “no ‘s okay. onaholes dont need to breathe,” is all she says before angling her cock upwards and pinching your nose, her cum releases in thick spurts and globs of it even shoot out of your nose.

you should know better than to think she’s done. she doesn’t let you get up once and your knees are starting to hurt but there’s no place you’d rather be, even with her cock covered in creamy cum, as well as your tiny little outfit and puppy ear headband. “you thirsty, pup?” she asks, not even bothering to look down at you. the passive look on her face as she games makes you want to cry, you’re making her feel so fucking good and she’s not even paying attention, regardless you moan out an “mhm” not wanting to part from her dick.

she’s absolutely sick in the head but you’re just as bad. without warning she pisses in your mouth, moans when you suck the tip n hollow your cheeks. you swallow everything she gives you and the warm stream makes your pussy clench around nothing. when she’s done, sakura cups your cheek and you finally have her attention, making you whimper and lean into her touch. “you’re such a good little girl for me, puppy” she tugs on your leash to pull you up, kissing you tenderly n it makes you giggle, “you’re unreal, kkura.”

#♡.signed. sealed. delivered.#♡.the honeypot #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim #miyawaki sakura x reader #miyawaki sakura smut #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim smut #💌.oral #💌.breath play #💌.omorashi #💌.pet play #💌.collars

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girlboybug · 1 year

Note

writing request for a smut fic with established relationship with javi x reader? dialogue prompt: javi: “he looked at you funny” reader: “i didn’t know you were the jealous type..”

OOO i like this muahaha >:) i hope you enjoy hehe, thank u for requesting!! <3

art deco

"shining like gunmetal, cold and unsure. baby you're so ghetto, you're lookin' to score."

or the one where jealousy happens to be a good look on javi.

what’s playing 🎧 : art deco by lana del rey

content warnings : SMUT, jealous!javi, blowjobs, face fucking, car sex, semi public sex (?), unprotected sex (extremely unwise w javi idk wtf he got goin on down there), creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, themes of slut shaming, threats of exhibitionism, threats of restraints e.g cuffs, brat tamer!javi (been dying to write that)

trigger warnings : mentions/threats of gun usage, alcohol, both reader and javier are tipsy at best, if there is anything i missed pls lmk!

word count : 4k

a/n : im pulling SO MUCH out my ass w this bc i havent finished narcos and only rlly pay attention when pedro or boyd is on screen and even tho im half mexican my ass cannot speak spanish for the life of me teehee sorry yall

you’re a bad actor.

you’re also bad at lying and honestly, just generally bad at the things javier happens to be especially good at.

but that’s okay, javier likes you like that. it’s refreshing, endearing, to be with someone who hasn’t gotten good at lying or pretending to be someone they’re not. and actually, he’s currently watching you fail at that right now.

you’re at the bar, swirling around your drink that he bought for you, pretending to not notice the way he’s eyeing you from across the club. he thinks it's cute how you keep stealing glances at him, giggling to yourself whenever he catches you.

you two do this little song and dance every now and then, it keeps things exciting and fun, and you never have complaints about it.

you pretend to be the single, bored girl sitting alone at the bar, and javier just so happens to swoop in, introducing himself as the man who’s been ordering drinks for you all night, ready to charm you into his bed for the night. it’s stupid when you say it out loud, but the way he fucks you when you do this little act makes it seem like the best goddamn idea he’s ever come up with.

it’s harmless fun between a couple, and the tension you two create throughout the night is always a recipe for mind blowing sex. however, it seems things are going a bit off script tonight.

a man invites himself to the empty barstool beside you that was reserved for javier, but he’s oblivious to the little game you’re playing right now. “hi there,” he says, grinning, and you try your best to hold back a long sigh while you greet him back politely.

javier’s hand tightens around the beer he’s got, wishing the neck of the bottle belonged to the man staring you down. he decides he’ll keep watch for awhile, he trusts you, and wants to see how this’ll play out, despite his patience already wearing dangerously thin.

“can i buy you another drink?” he asks, motioning towards the dwindling liquid in your glass. its not a difficult question, but the answer isn’t coming to you like it should be.

you are playing the role of a single woman tonight, and you won’t let anything go further with this guy than receiving a free drink.

eh. why not?

“yeah, sure, thank you.” you smile back, and he hurriedly calls over the bartender, asking for two glasses of whatever it is you ordered. javier shifts in his seat, his jaw coming down harder than it was just a moment ago as he watches you share a drink with someone that isn’t him.

javier follows his wandering eyes, how they trail up and down your figure, making it obvious he’s wondering what you’ve got on underneath.

javier wants to walk up to him to tell him how he knows what you’ve got under that dress, because he picked it out.

god, this night fuckin’ sucks so far.

“i noticed you for awhile now, what’re you doin’ here all alone?” he asks, and you get a little nervous with the way he gets closer to you. “i’m just waiting for my boyfriend to show up.” you answer, deciding the single woman role didn’t feel as fun anymore.

“ahh, i see.” he replies, and you expect him to scoot farther from you, or better yet, leave. but much to your dismay, he stays.

“it’s just,” he starts, and you glance down at your shoes, saying a silent prayer for him to get on with what he’s got to say before he leaves you alone for good.

“you’ve been here for awhile now, you sure he’s comin’ honey?” he questions you, faux concern in his voice and you close your eyes for a moment to hide the way they roll at him.

“yeah, i’m sure.” you reply curtly. “how about i keep you some company while you wait for him then, how’s that sound?” he gets closer than you would’ve liked, boldly resting his arm around your shoulders, and yep, that’ll do it.

javier’s beer clatters down onto his table as he shoots up from his seat, stalking over to you. he’s quick to join you, standing tall behind your seated figure, his strong chest a familiar surface against your back.

“uh who’re you–”

“her boyfriend.” he answers, eyes lowered testingly, practically itching for him to give him a reason to swing. “hi baby,” you beam, turning around and craning your neck up to give him a kiss. he leans down, holding your chin while he kisses you.

with your lips still connected, he stares at the scoffing man that just sits and watches.

“yeah well i wasn’t the one who kept her waiting all night so why don’t you get lost? we were havin’ a conversation, weren’t we sweetheart?” he looks at you as if you’d actually agree, and you open your mouth to defend javier, but he doesn’t need you to, he’s more than eager to put this guy back in his place.

he steps away from behind your back, moving right in front of you now, leaning in close to the man. he reaches around to his lower back, sliding his gun to the side of his waist before he’s got it in his clutch, pressing it to the man’s ribs.

“you have 3 seconds to get the fuck out my face before i stop being so polite.” he whispers in his ear, and the man stiffens with immediate fear once he registers what’s being pointed at him.

he swivels out of the stool, hastily hopping out to make his way out the club all together. javier turns back to you once he’s out of his field of vision, expecting a profuse thank you javi, but he gets quite the opposite.

“what the hell was that?” you question, sounding angry, and uh oh, you saw that.

“baby,” he starts off but you just huff, climbing off the stool. “that was way too far,” you point at him and he sighs, holding your arms, rubbing them up and down, trying to settle your irritation down.

“but he was making you uncomfortable, and you didn’t see the way he was looking at you–”

“and what way was he looking at me for you to pull a gun out on him?” you whisper yell and he starts to join you in your frustration.

“he looked at you…funny, like he was just thinking about fucking you the entire time.” he sounds upset that he even has to explain himself to you about this, and you catch it, deciding to throw it back at him when you turn on your heel to leave.

he growls with annoyance as he follows you out the club, grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn back and look at him.

you exhale sharply, looking up at him, switching your weight onto your left foot. “i knew you could be a little…impulsive sometimes but jesus jav, i didn’t realize you were the jealous type that would do something so…stupid.”

his annoyance is fast to turn into a hard glare, and you see the sudden shift, instantly feeling regretful. he purses his lips to the side, laughing dryly. “stupid huh?” he clicks his tongue and you shake your head, walking closer to him now.

“javi, i’m sorry,” you try to remedy the mess of this situation, but unlucky for you, what little patience he was holding onto is now gone.

he grabs the hand of yours that’s reaching towards his jaw, he isn’t in the mood for it. he pulls you along by your wrist to the parking lot.

“yeah, you’re about to be baby,” he mutters, and your heart picks up, your heel clad feet in turn picking up speed to keep up with him.

he ushers you into his backseat, slamming the door behind you once you’re both in. he tugs you into his lap, your legs on either side of him, your knees making contact with the cold vinyl. his hands find their way to your ass, squeezing it hard.

you gasp a little, arching into his chest. the second you move in closer, his lips are on your’s. it’s not gentle, it’s not slow paced, and it’s not soft, no, that’s for when you’re good. and you’ve been anything but.

you’re grinding in his lap, his growing bulge feels perfect right up against your dampening panty clad cunt, too perfect that you can’t stop yourself. you’re moaning in his mouth, struggling to keep up the pace and intensity in the way his lips are moving with your’s.

he tastes like beer and cigarettes, smells like it too, with traces of his cologne that you love. he’s like paradise incarnate and you want to live in him forever.

when he pulls away you're left panting in his hold, lips parted, brushing against each other, stealing the other person’s breaths. “you know,” he sighs lowly, his words trailing up your spine, leaving shivers in their wake.

“just because i let you pretend you’re single for the night doesn’t mean you actually are,” he says, and he sounds serious, but there’s something hidden in his air, something challenging, like he wants you to argue just so he can put you right back where you belong.

you nod heavily like he speaks words of righteousness, cupping his jaw in your hands. “i know javi, i know,” you pepper his face in kisses, but he remains still, outwardly unphased.

“guess you just got too excited at the thought of bein’ a slut huh?” he breathes out flicking a brow at you, keeping you in close when you try to inch away from him at his accusations.

“i’m not a slut–” he unfolds your offended arms, hands leaving your wrists to hold your thighs that rest on either side of his lap. “no baby it’s alright, s’not a totally bad thing. i like sluts. they let you do whatever you want to ‘em,” he grips your thighs, forcefully sliding you off his lap and letting you land down on your knees before him. you gasp, holding onto his legs for steadiness.

“and they let you all while tryin’ to convince you they aren’t sluts. isn’t that funny? he chuckles, caressing your cheek, peering down at you while he does so.

“javi,” you say, you don’t know what to say next, the only certainty that remains is that his name never sounds wrong coming from you.

“if you wanna be a slut so bad then go ahead, i won’t stop you.” he shrugs, leaning back into the seat, arms stretched out beside him. you swallow away your stuttering, running your hands up and down your thighs. “what do you want me to do?” you ask smally, looking up at him from under your lashes.

he readjusts, lifting his hips in the air, settling back down closer to you. he tilts his head, eyes flickering from his crotch back to your gaze, “what sluts do best baby.” he says under a gravelly breath. your thighs close just a little tighter at that, feeling eager to oblige to his insinuations.

you unzip his levi’s, unbuttoning them before you’re pulling him from out his boxers, throat getting tight at the way he pulses in your hands. precum is already beading at his tip, and you lean forward, flicking your tongue over it. he hisses quietly, a hand coming behind your neck.

your lips envelope the tip, shutting your eyes when you trail down until you can’t take any more of him down your throat. he groans, throwing his head back, bucking his hips into your mouth. you gag around him, hand trembling while you try to jerk off what you can’t fit into your mouth.

he rolls his head forward, holding you by the back of your head, starting to thrust further in, chuckling to himself at the way you gag. he lets you slide off him, jerking his slick cock off while you catch your breath.

you’re staring at each other in the thick air, the night breeze sneaking in from the cracked windows, making your nipples perk from behind your lacy bra.

the moon glimmers through the side window facing javier, and it panels his cheekbone, across his jaw and down his chin, trickling over the curve of his collarbones.

he looks so beautiful like this, sitting tall in front of you, looking at you like he could tear you apart with one hand, jaw clenching when your thumb slides over the head of his cock.

the way he’s looking at you elicits a reaction from your body before your mind can reach it. you lean back down, taking him deeper into your mouth.

you don’t mind the way he keeps your head still, using your mouth the way he likes.

he fucks your mouth like he wants to prove a point, and at this moment he doesn’t even know what the point is, he hardly even remembers where he’s currently at, the only thing that makes sense is how fucking good you’re taking him down your throat.

you’re being so good, so perfectly compliant for him, and what’s fueling you is the tingles exploding between your thighs at the way he’s using you.

the grunting utterances of your name in his spewing breaths adds propellent to the roaring fire building in your lower tummy.

his groans get a little airier, picking up in quantity, coming out one after the other, fucking your mouth so deep your nose brushes against the brown curls sitting just above his cock. “look at me,” he instructs through gritted teeth, and you listen, blinking away your teary eyes to look up at him.

he sends one, two, three, hard thrusts into your mouth before he pulls out, resting the tip over your lips. he pants to himself, shutting his eyes closed while you take this time to do the same and catch your own breath. “what’s wrong?” you sound a little rasped, and he can’t fight the smug look on his face at your voice.

“as much as i’d like to let you continue, i got better things planned baby,” he chuckles breathlessly, pulling you back up into his lap.

he pushes your dress up, exhaling when he sees how wet you are in the panties he picked out for you. “javi, i didn’t bring any condoms, do you have one?” you press your hands to his chest, momentarily halting him, and he looks at you, scoffing quietly.

“huh. sluts don’t usually care about that kinda thing.” he rubs the head of his cock over your clothed clit, watching your lowered eyes fully shut, a moan slipping out at his ministrations, proving him right. “s’not gonna fit like this,” your whimper when he moves your panties to the side, flicking himself up and down your folds. “it will baby, i’ll make it fit.” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you rarely ever got on top, he was always very adamant about taking care of you, whether that means you’re on your back, legs thrown over his shoulders or you with your wrists being hoisted by his tight grip while he fucks you senseless.

the constant is, he’s always on top.

he’s big, no matter the position he’s got you in, it’s always a stretch he has to ease you into. which is why you’re typically reluctant to get on top, but right now he isn’t asking, he’s telling.

“javi, s’not gonna go in like this,” you whimper nervously, curling into his chest. head on his shoulder. he rolls his eyes, fingers gliding right over your clit to shut you up. and it works, naturally, he chuckles.

your breath gets faster when he swirls over your clit with his fingers, squirming around in his lap. he holds himself from the base of his cock, circling over your fluttering hole. your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, fingers playing with the back of his hair.

he starts crowning into you, pushing in the fat head of his cock, pausing the breath in the middle of your throat. it rumbles out as a pained moan when he continues pushing in. “god javi,” you whine, legs on either side of him flexing with nerves at the intrusion.

“doin’ all the work for you baby, jus’ take it for me,” he mutters in your ear, his mustache tickling your jaw while he rubs your clit to ease you into it.

“actin’ like i haven’t fucked this pussy before, know you can handle it, sè una niña grande para mí,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek, and you melt, nodding desperately. “i am,” you mumble, bracing yourself for when he bottoms out inside you. he thrusts upward, holding you by the fat your ass, pulling you down onto him.

the air is knocked out your lungs, and all you can do is hold on to his leather clad shoulders for dear life. your hips start moving in sync, rolling into each other, and you feel insane, it feels so good, you start thinking maybe you’ll do this more often.

the sting from the stretch subsides soon, but the feeling of being full stays, and you keep it, loving how good it feels. the head of his cock nudges deep inside you, bobbing up into your throat and you fall apart, fucking yourself on him, addicted to the way he hits every little spot inside you that you need.

you’re moaning, panting loudly in his ear, and he eats every single one of them up, gripping your hips when he guides you down onto him. kisses lay wetly across the side of his neck, teeth graze over his ear, praises of how fucking big he is, and how good he feels inside you, relay to him over and over, making his cock twitch when he picks up the pace in his thrusts.

“you’re so nice while i fuck you baby, maybe this is how i should shut you up more often huh?” he teases, but you don’t care, you’d start arguments with him if it meant he’d always feel this good in you.

“in so deep,” you whimper more to yourself but he hears you, he hears it all. he hears how fucking soaked you are around him, hears every little breath, every little moan that comes out of you.

he smacks over your ass, chuckling to himself when you whine and clamp down around him. “maybe i should go find that guy huh?” he leans forward, lips on your shoulder when he ruts up into you deeper, right there to hold you closer when you keen into him at the hard thrust.

“ ‘should find him and fuck you in front of him, show him how its done, what do you think of that baby?” he grunts, hands tightening over your hips.

you just moan, babbling something incoherent when you grind down onto him, his words acting as a lighter underneath the growing flame while you bounce on him. you squeeze around him, your body unashamed of how much you like the idea of such a dirty act.

he feels the way you clamp down around him, chuckling breathlessly, his hand traveling behind your neck to force you to look at him. “or maybe it’s you who’d like that,” he taunts, expecting a shy shake of your head, but you just nod, trying to meet his thrusts. "i'll do whatever you want javi," you whimper pathetically, and god, that does something to him.

"know you will, so sweet baby," he groans, leaning back to watch where you both meet, loving the sight of his cock entering and disappearing into your cunt.

you tug at the hair from the back of his head, messily kissing all over his jaw and cheek, and he takes it all, adoring how clingy you are with him right now. he pulls the front of your dress down, hooking his fingers under the cups of your bra and groaning to himself when he sees your tits, pretty and pert under the bra, he of course, picked out for you.

black see-through lace, his favorite.

"gonna be the death of me, mi vida," he murmurs to himself, latching his hot eager mouth over them. he assaults the soft skin with his tongue, teeth grazing over your sensitive nipples, a smirk forming around the flesh when he teases the ghost of a bite, wanting to laugh when you squirm and arch your back at his actions.

his fingers find their place back to your clit, rubbing over the nerves like clockwork, syncing the way you bounce on him with harder thrusts, making the pleasure surrounding you inescapable.

breathing is getting harder, but it feels unimportant, everything does when it comes to javi. in this moment if he told you to stop breathing altogether you honestly just might listen to him.

but it's so much so soon, and you want to hold onto the moment for as long as you can, enjoy each stroke of his cock deep inside you longer, and if he keeps touching you like this, you know you won't last. you paw at his hand, trying to push the relentless wrist away. "no more javi, m'gonna cum too fast please," you whimper, but he doesn't agree. you're finished when he's finished.

"do i need to cuff you to the headrest or are you gonna keep those hands to yourself?" he spits, sounding harsh, sounding serious. you whine like a wounded puppy, shaking that empty little head of yours.

"but javi," he grabs your chin, guiding your gaze downward when he moves his jacket to the side, revealing the cuffs that hang from his belt loops. "think i'm kiddin'? hands to yourself or around me. otherwise you get these. your choice," he's still inside you, and you can't take it, you throw your arms around him, hugging him close while trying to get him to move again.

"gonna be good, gonna listen, m'sorry, please move javi, please?"

he senses your desperation, and gives in, continuing his thrusts. you sigh in relief, following the way his hips piston up into you with your own.

"can i touch you?" you whisper, unsure if you're allowed to, but javier relents, nodding with a kiss to your neck. you slide his jacket off eagerly, quickly unbuttoning his shirt before your hands are running along the warm skin of his shoulders, squeezing them when he thrusts right there.

your hands drag down his chest, nails lightly digging into his tanned skin when your head falls back, rising and falling up and down on his cock. his mouth is on you again, tongue swirling over the curve of your chest, gripping them roughly in his wide palms.

he watches you from this view, how you lose yourself when he's got his cock in you, and he thinks maybe he should have encouraged you to ride him earlier.

he's getting close, watching you has only pulled him closer to the end, his cock twitching the more he imagines how good you'd look dripping in his cum. he imagines your trembling thighs being parted by his hands, your abused hole just leaking and leaking from his cum.

"m'close, gonna let me finish inside mi vida?" he grunts, and you nod heavily, clamping harder down around him when he asks. "please, please javi," you beg, and who is he to deny you?

his fingers run around your clit once more, those tight circles from the pads of his fingers bring you right there alongside with him, moaning his name in an incomprehensible voice while his face rests in the crook of your neck, bouncing you on top of him.

"always wanted to cum in you baby, always wanted to fill you up nice an' good —fuck—, make you fuckin' full of me, just know you'd look so fuckin' good just drippin– shit," you're squeezing him like you never have before, his confessions, the ferver in the way he fucks you is just too much, your body acts before you can even process what’s happening.

you cum all around his cock, and the pulsing of your walls, the whimpers of his name from your pretty lips is all he needs to join you in your blinding orgasm. he's cumming inside you, grunting your name and how fuckin' good you are for him, his mouth hot on your neck while he fucks you through your shared orgasms.

he doesn't let up on your clit until the pleasure bleeds into pain, and you can't take it. with heavy breaths you collapse in his arms, panting like you've just ran a marathon, sweaty forehead resting on the cool leather of the seat.

he gently shifts your hips backward, looking down at his cum that pours out of you. he likes the mess, likes how your cunt looks when he rubs his cum across your throbbing clit, you jump at the stimulation, begging him in a tired voice, no more javi.

he listens, taking sympathy on your spent body. he puts your panties back over you, tucking himself away before he repositions you so you're properly sitting in his lap, letting your legs stretch across the rest of the backseat.

"you okay mi bebita?" he murmurs softly, and you hum a sleepy yes, still buzzing from your orgasm. "still mad?" he asks jokingly, pulling a hazy giggle from you.

“i think you just fucked any anger i had left out of me." he laughs proudly at that, rubbing your back. "yeah? maybe that's how we should settle all our fights then."

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