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#I'm getting my new glasses tomorrow too
becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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It's been a really busy week so I'm just going to indulge myself and talk about exactly what I'd love to be doing rn with CEO!Bucky
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When I imagine CEO scenarios though, I don't think of the reader as his assistant or an intern. Maybe the CEO and his comms director. Someone he considers an equal because I think that's a hell of a lot more sexy and still has a power imbalance 🥵
He knows you're incredibly capable. He knows you've got more drive than anyone else in the company. He knows you've spent years pushing yourself to get to where you are and you're determined to keep climbing.
But at the same time; it's nice to get a break from that too. Sometimes it's nice to just be tossed around and given orders. You get to switch your brain off and give in to whatever feels good.
And that's how you found your knees hitting the plush grey carpet of the CEO's office on a Friday afternoon.
"Good girl. So fucking pretty." Bucky's hand on your chin directs your face upwards. He's continuing the task you started a few minutes prior; stroking his own cock at a leisurely place and enjoying the sight of you in front of him with your blouse missing the top few buttons.
There's nothing else you'd rather be doing right now. There's no other release that lets you unwind like this. You don't have to think about anything other than the glossy bead of precum gathering on the tip of your boss' dick and the way that even the sight of it makes your mouth water.
His other hand is still holding your chin but you don't want to just watch when you can do so much more than that. You lean over, taking the head of his cock in your mouth, flicking your tongue over the very tip to lap up the precum you've been craving.
Your hand replaces his, jerking his length slowly with a measured pressure while your tongue swirls, keenly licking away any fresh evidence of his arousal.
"Fuck." He groans, melting into your eagerness. He's had a long week too. You know he needs this as much as you do but he's just as respectful as ever, conscious not to press himself into your waiting mouth.
"I bet you're wet already, aren't you? You look like such a sweetheart. No one would ever guess that you get off on sucking my cock. I bet everyone thinks you're so innocent but they don't get to feel the way you drip down your own thighs after you swallow my cum." You imagine that mouth of his has got him in plenty of trouble over the years but fuck, you love it. You swear he could probably get you off just by talking to you.
You hum happily, taking as much of his length into your mouth as you can manage, wincing slightly the first time his tip nudges the back of your throat. Your flat tongue rolls against the underside of his length, your hand cupping his balls and you feel his palm settle on the back of his head.
"You're so fucking keen." His blunt fingernails scratch gently against the nape of your neck and it feels like such a tender gesture. You get to be unashamed of how keen you are with him. There's no embarrassment or reservation. You don't have to hold yourself back to save face and it's refreshing to want someone this much.
You head bobs on his length, your lips forming a perfect tight ring and every now and again, you're rewarded with the sharpness of some fresh precum smeared onto your tongue.
"You should slow down, sweetheart. I don't want to finish yet." His voice is a little strained and it's beautiful. Now you're torn though. You don't want this to end but you're desperate to feel hot ropes of his cum splash over your waiting tongue and across your face.
Somewhat selfishly, you do as you're told. Your body reminds you of your own desperation and you don't want to ruin your chances of getting bent over that desk.
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kakusu-shipping · 1 year
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Been really overwhelmed with the need to kiss Koro-Sensei on the mouth recently. Which isn’t like, a new feelings, but I think this is the first time it’s really be this strong.
#Emile's Arts#Koro-Sensei#Just in a general Koro-Sensei mood I guess?#It's almost March so that tracks#Too close to March actually I'm not prepared#It's 70 DEGREES IN MY HOUSE I'M MELTING#also I might have to get new glasses soon and I'm being veeeeeeeery picky about it#Because I really like the ones I have now they're Yellow#And I love yellow#The only color i'm willing to replace them with is Red#And Adult glasses don't come in the Vibrant Reds I want#They come in loser Maroon shades#anyway that's what all the trying on glasses sketches are about#Maybe I'll get framless shape glasses this time who knows#I've always had thick frames they fit my face and eye size better#Kissu Koro Kissu Koro Kissu Koro#Glasses later right now we Kissu Koro#Tomorrow who knows#Okay ACTUALLY#I've been brainrotting about a very specific scene in my AssClass S/I plotline#Well the entire thing honestly#but right now there's a VERY hyper specific thing in my brain about this one scene and it's so DUMB and NOT CUTE#But I'm obsessed with it like stupid obsessed with it and idk if I'll ever talk about it anyhere#I'm even back and forth about posting it in the discord because it's SO specific and again not cute like in the slightest#It's not even sweet or wholesome or shippy really it's just this funny gag moment I'm so insane about#Maybe one of these days I'll write my favorite AssClass Self insert moments WHO KNOWS#Probably not.#But maybe.#I have so many that are just goofy and weird and silly but also a couple of cute moments and some really good ones with Irina#idk idk there's no such thing as too self indulgent this is my blog after all
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peony-pearl · 1 year
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Finally managed to get out a bunch of built up trash and junk that had been lingering in the spare room; a lot of it is packaging and boxes. I should honestly cull my wardrobe so laundry isn't some big to-do.
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velvetydream · 3 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..
Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader
Word count : 3549 Words
Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)
Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,
Death penality, Corpses
a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡
Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.
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1933'
You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.
Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.
"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.
Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.
Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.
"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.
Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.
The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.
"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.
Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.
"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.
Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.
"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.
The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!
The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.
When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.
Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..
Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.
"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.
Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.
A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?
But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.
Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?
He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.
The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.
Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."
Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.
Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.
In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.
1935'
"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.
"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.
Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.
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queers-gambit · 8 months
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Curiosity Killed The Cat
prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Marvel
word count: 5.1k+
note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.
warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.
browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here
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Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.
You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.
Rooted.
But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.
You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.
This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.
You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?
Curiosity, indeed.
Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...
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"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."
"And the jalapeños?"
"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."
"Cream cheese?"
"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."
Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."
"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"
"Lemme pick you up."
"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."
He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"
"Let's do a white tonight, please."
"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "
"Hang on," you pleaded.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"
"We haven't been to Paris in months."
You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."
Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."
"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"
"So, is that a yes?"
"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"
"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"
"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."
"I'll bring the camera."
"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"
"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.
"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"
"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"
There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "
"It's 15," he growled.
"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."
"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "
"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."
"Don't hurt her - "
"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."
The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.
He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).
For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.
"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."
You sniffled, unable to respond.
He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"
You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."
The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."
"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."
"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."
You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.
At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.
"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.
"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"
You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.
Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.
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And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.
You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.
Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.
Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.
So now... To hear this... You were devastated.
You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.
You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.
"She's different, man."
"How so?" Sam wondered.
"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "
"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.
"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."
"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.
"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."
"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."
"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"
Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"
"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."
"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."
"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.
"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."
"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."
"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"
There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.
So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."
"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"
You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.
"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.
"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"
"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."
"Peach - "
"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.
"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"
"Sure."
Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"
You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.
Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.
Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?
You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"
"Out with Nat," you eased.
He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"
"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."
His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."
"I know."
"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.
And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.
When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."
The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.
You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.
Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.
Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.
Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.
After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.
"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.
"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.
"What?"
"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"
"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."
"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"
"About...?"
"Me."
"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."
Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.
"Huh?" Nat wondered.
"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.
"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."
Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"
"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"
"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."
"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.
"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."
"Isn't that what you wanted?"
"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."
"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."
"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."
"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."
"They can take it."
"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"
"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.
"Bucky," she growled.
He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."
"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."
"Why lie, then?"
"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."
"No shit."
"Well, did you get into a fight?"
"No."
"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"
He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."
"You had to do something."
"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."
Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"
Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."
"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."
"I didn't mean - "
"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."
Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"
"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"
Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.
The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.
Clingy...
You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...
His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.
When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"
You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.
He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."
"I'm here."
"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.
"What's wrong?"
"You. You're what's wrong."
"What the fuck does that - "
"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."
You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.
"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "
"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."
"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."
You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "
"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."
You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."
"It's not."
"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."
He nodded, "What else can I do?"
"Nothing - "
"Peach."
You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"
"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.
"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"
"All right... Sure, okay..."
"And face masks."
He sighed, "Okay."
"And mani-pedis."
"Baby."
"You said you were making it up to me, right?"
He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."
"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."
"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."
"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."
"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."
You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.
Felt okay.
Appeared okay.
And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.
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d10nyx · 2 months
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don't hold your breath(nobody's home)
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk
a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3
word count: 1.9k words
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Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.
He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.
Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.
He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.
Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.
He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.
He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.
Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.
You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.
Fuck this.
He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.
“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 
He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.
“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.
“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”
Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.
Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.
You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”
He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.
“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”
There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?
He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.
“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.
You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.
“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.
“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”
Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.
“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.
“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.
“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”
“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”
That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.
“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”
Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.
He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.
“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.
When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.
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lovekendri · 1 year
Text
inexperienced | peeta mellark
request: hey! can you do headcanons or a fic about your first time, um, “doing the deed” with peeta? or like how he would be with someone who’s inexperienced. thank you! i love your writing 🤍 - anon
omg i love this! thank you so much for the request AND being my first request!! i'm a bit newer to writing smut, so i hope it lives up to your expectations! ♡
peeta mellark x fem!reader
summary: it's your first time, and your boyfriend, peeta, is determined to make sure your first time is magical.
cw: 18+ only! fluffy smut, p in v, soft and hard dom!peeta, inexperienced!reader, established relationship, first time, fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)
wc: 2.9k
type: ✽ | ❀
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As you poured another glass of a fancy sparkling pomegranate juice to end off the bottle, you tossed it into the bin next to the table and walked yourself over to the couch where Haymitch and Peeta sat, the room still buzzing with other District 12 residents.
The television was on, playing some sort of instrumental music, but you could barely hear it over the chatter in the room.
Haymitch and Peeta were deep in conversation about Haymitch's new relationship with Effie, and you've never seen Haymitch look so happy to talk about something.
You sat down next to Peeta, and you could tell he was ready to leave soon, probably after he finished the conversation.
You had indulged in homemade bread from Peeta with oil and vinegar all night, as well as fresh berries picked from the bushes in front of your house with the sparkling juice, and you were starting to get tired of eating to cure the boredom.
You had followed Peeta around all night like a lost puppy, and it wasn't a good look for you, but you were ready to go home after a few conversations.
"I personally didn't expect Effie to be your first choice," Peeta snorted, "I thought she drove you crazy."
Instead of paying attention to the rest of the conversation like you should've, you began to fully admire your boyfriend for the first time all night.
He wore a gray button up with the top two buttons undone, the sleeves tucked up around his forearms. It was tucked into a pair of blue jeans that appeared slightly too tight, the fabric straining against his legs. Finishing off the outfit with a brown belt. He sat manspreading, holding a bottle of something you couldn't see, the logo hidden in his hands, but you knew it wasn't alcohol.
Looking at him tonight brought a different feeling to your chest and stomach, an odd, tingly feeling you hadn't very much felt before around him. Watching him talk, watching his lips move as he responded to Haymitch, the nod of approvals he would give.
"But anyways, you two better get going," Haymitch said as you tuned in to the conversation once again, standing up from the old couch you all sat on. It was getting later in the night, and you were thankful for him to say that, as it was almost one in the morning.
Peeta stood up as well, taking your hand to help you up from sinking into the couch.
"Alright, good to see you," Haymitch said, giving Peeta a small hug, and clapping him on the back, like a brother would do.
Haymitch turned to you, and reached out for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gave him a short hug before pulling away from him.
"I'll see you tomorrow, probably," you said, smiling, subtly reminding Haymitch of your lunch plans tomorrow.
"Of course you will, sweetheart," he gave you a small clap on the back, weaker than Peeta's, but still a loving tap. A small lopsided smile appeared on his face and he turned away.
"You ready to go?" Peeta asked, looking down at you.
His eyes were trained on you, reminding you of what you felt just seconds ago about the tingling of your stomach and the tightness in your chest.
"Yeah," you smiled, trying to hide the fact you could feel the blush creeping up your face as you looked past him toward the coat rack near the door.
He grabbed your hand once again, grabbing your coat and slinging it over your shoulders, not bothering to have you put it on when you're a mere twenty feet away from his house.
You waved goodbye to any people who were paying attention at the slowly dying party, and walked out the door, hand in hand with Peeta.
"You enjoy the juice?" he asked as you reached the sidewalk, playfully giving you a little shove to the shoulder to knock you off balance a bit.
"You know I did," you replied, recovering your feet and taking his muscular arm in both of your hands. The crisp, cool air of the night nipped at your cheeks, and the leftover snow from the recent fall crunched beneath your feet.
It was a short walk, and by now you were at the door of Peeta's house. He took the keys out of his pocket to unlock his front door. The light over the door was still on, coating the walkway you stood on in a dim, yellow light.
"You looked beautiful tonight," he said as he unlocked the door, pushing in the door with more force than intended.
"Thank you, you looked rather handsome yourself," you replied, hearing a small chuckle escape his throat at your comment.
Without bothering to turn on the lights, he walked through the living room to reach his bedroom, and you ran inside before him to kick off your shoes and jump on his bed.
The softness of the mattress engulfed your body, and you rolled into the knitted quilt on top of his bed.
Tonight felt like a cuddling night, but something about the air felt different.
"Save some room for me," he said, having just taken off his shoes.
The feeling you had earlier watching him rose in your body again as he set his knee on the edge of the bed, climbing over to your side and collapsing next to you with a hand on your hip.
You turned to your side, throwing a side of the quilt on top of him.
"There's plenty of room for you," you said, looking down past his jaw. You saw the same outfit as before, but now his belt was slightly looser, his shirt half untucked. You tried your best to avoid looking toward his jeans, but you didn't have to force yourself anyways.
"Eyes are up here, darling," Peeta's hand reached out gently to your jaw, lifting your face to look at him.
Your face heating up immediately, you made eye contact with him. A small grin was growing on his face, a cheeky smirk you'd seen so often. He kissed you with the same pecks he always did when you were cuddling, but even after you'd kissed him hundreds of times the same way, you couldn't shake the feeling that something felt different tonight.
Doing your best to ignore the prying thought, you snuggled up to his warm body, basically steam rolling him to get on top of him. You laid on top of him, one of his hands loosely around your waist and the other lightly stroking your back. Your arms hooked under his.
After a while of laying in silence listening to each other breathe, you started to close your eyes, letting comfort and sleep take you over. Just as you began to feel the entire pull of sleep, you felt him sharply exhale. He dug his face into the crook of your neck at the same time his hand grabbed tightly onto your hip.
"You've never had sex, have you?" he murmured lowly.
The question startled you, increasing your heartbeat and waking you from any slumber that started to take you over. You turned your face into his neck as well, too embarrassed to lift your head and face him when you felt the heat radiating off your cheeks.
Is this what felt different? Did the air feel different because Peeta wanted to have sex with you?
"Absolutely," you say, the uneasiness in your voice a dead giveaway that you most definitely have not.
He knew you, he knew you hadn't. In fact, he knew that he was the only boy you had ever dated, the only boy who you'd ever kissed.
"Oh, really?" he says, his hands sliding from where they rested to lightly graze over the back of your thighs and your ass, one hand giving a light squeeze to your thigh.
A barely audible but obviously desperate exhale escaped your lips, your head dropping down completely to his shoulder.
He had never touched you like this before. Butterflies were exploding in your stomach, your chest and throat growing tighter as he continued to move his hand over the hills of your body.
"I thought so, baby," he whispered. "It's okay."
He didn't stop moving his hand, but his head dropped back down to the bed, an exhale leaving his own lips.
"Would you let me be your first time?" he said breathily, his hand moving up to rub over your back once again.
You felt like you couldn't say anything, your throat feeling so closed with his hands touching you in ways you'd never felt before, the feeling of his rough hands stroking across your body was enough to send you spiraling.
He noticed your silence, moving his hands to sit up. You refused to let go of your tight hold on his body, trying to catch your breath from the unnecessarily overwhelming feeling blossoming in your stomach.
"C'mon, baby. Talk to me," he whispered.
"Please, Peeta," your voice came out strangled. It didn't sound like your own, plagued by the tightness of your throat and the desperate want for him to touch you like he was before.
It took him a moment to register what you said.
"That's my girl."
His hands reached up to your arms, gently prying them away from his body in order to get you off of him.
He laid you gently on the bed, and you felt like a total mess. You knew you shouldn't be so obsessed with the way he was making you feel, but it felt so right to be touched by him, to be held in the erotic ways you didn't know he wanted.
He was on top of you, his arms out straight and his legs on the outside of yours blocked a cage around your body. You were in for it now.
At first though, he only kissed you.
The low light of the room added to the needy ambiance of the room. Kissing felt more erotic, less controlled, the way his lips moved familiarly but yet so foreign at the same time, the soft dominancy from him that you'd never felt before threatening to take you over. The way he would stop to take a short breath before continuing to kiss you, sometimes biting your lip as he pulled away. When you felt one of his hands creep up your hips onto your breasts, it was an explosion of feelings you hadn't had before.
Your gasp almost breaking the kiss, you felt him grin against your lips as his hand slipped under your shirt to run it over your torso.
His touch was so gentle, so polite, allowing you to feel the entire moment of what he was doing to you. Again though, it was so different from ways he had touched you before. So new and arousing.
His kisses began to trail down your cheek to your jaw, down your neck, and back up to your lips. He kissed you all over the neck, anywhere he could.
You felt so many butterflies and tingles in your stomach, and a warm heat between your thighs growing as he touched you more, lips and hands working in unison to sweetly prepare you.
His hand now moving down to pull the waistband of your pants ever so slightly down, pausing his kisses. He took the moment to move a knee between your legs, giving them a little nudge to open.
His eyes met yours, darkened with arousal and excitement. His lips were swollen and slick with saliva, his cheeks a light rosy tint.
"You ready?" he murmured, watching your face closely.
Though you were so nervous, you were eager.
You wanted this to happen, the more he touched you and the more he caressed your body allowed to the heat between your legs to grow, the unfamiliar tingles and butterflies in your stomach fluttered with anticipation. He was all you ever dreamt of, and the way his eyes bored into yours with lust and hungriness, you were as ready as you'd ever be.
"Yes," you forced out, the constriction of your throat still very prominent.
You watched as the grin on his face grew to a sinister smile, his eyes squinting with pride. He removed your pants with such swiftness you'd barely noticed, and he took the time to admire your bottomless body. Nothing he hadn't seen before, but something he got to see in a totally different manner.
He exhaled sharply, pushing a rough hand into your panties, a finger sliding through slick folds.
He wasn't near being inside you, but the first few circles around your clit felt like heaven, your mouth opening in shock and a strangled gasp forcing its way through. A white heat began to grow in your stomach quickly, and you pushed your head into the softness of the bed.
"Attagirl," he whispered, praise quickly falling out of his mouth as he watched you squirm underneath his fingers.
A slick finger suddenly pushed through you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. His fingers worked magic on your clit while he pushed his finger in and out of you.
"Yeah, baby?"
Heat, heat, and more heat grew, the pleasure becoming almost overwhelming under your boyfriend's control, the praises coming out of his stupidly pretty face driving your body insane.
Gasps sweetened with whimpers and small moans fell out of your mouth like a sailor's cusses, your eyes screwed shut as Peeta worked your body perfectly. In no time, he pushed in a second finger, earning a loud gasp and a grab to his forearm, his legs tightening around your leg to keep you from wiggling away.
"You feelin' good, love?" he whispered. You could hear the curl of his evil smile, absolutely delighted to be making you feel the way you were. You desperately nodded your head, your grip on his arm growing tighter as the heat in your stomach grew, an overwhelming feeling threatening to fall.
He felt your walls beginning to tighten, and pulled his fingers out.
"Why?" you whined, the feeling in your stomach immediately dripping down to the small heat you had before. You grabbed for his hand, wanting him to make you feel amazing again, but he pulled it away from you.
"No, sweetheart, I want you to experience more than just my hand."
You watched as he undid the rest of his belt from before, your jaw falling open slightly in shock as he unbuttoned his jeans, undoing the zipper as well. His black boxers showed through the small opening in his pants now, and you could see what he was hiding beneath them.
"You okay?" he asked, aware of your jaw now basically on the floor. You nodded at his question, snapping your jaw shut once again.
Your face was hot, your body was shaking a little. You were so ready in anticipation of how he was going to make you feel. You didn't dare look at him, because you knew that you were basically going to finish at just the sight.
"You're sure you're ready?" he said, a hand holding steady on your hip and the other you could only assume holding his cock.
You nodded, your hands going to the quilt for a hold on something, your body beginning to tense.
"Good girl."
You felt him push into you.
A loud gasp pushed from your throat, your body jerking in surprise. He definitely filled you out, your eyes rolling back and heat beginning to grow again.
"What's wrong?" he said, the concerned tone in his voice loud, keeping still inside you.
"No, no, keep going," you whined, your eyes screwing shut.
He began to move slowly, only pushing in a few inches every time, preparing you for the full.
The friction felt so good, quiet moans falling out of your mouth as he pushed more and more inside of you, growing faster with each movement of his hips.
He pushed all the way into you, hitting a spot that sent white heat coursing through your body, electrifying, your vision blanked.
He dragged his cock out once again, pushing all the way inside of you once more.
The tingly heat grew quickly in your stomach as he found a medium pace, cock sliding easily in and out of your cunt with his hands gripping tightly on your hips.
"You look so pretty underneath me," he praised, so close to pushing you over the edge.
Uncontrolled moans forced themselves out of your throat, the heat building up so close to a release. His hips became sloppier and uncontrolled, his pace increasing as he worked to finish.
With one harsh thrust, your vision went white and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. A loud cry left your mouth as you came, your legs tightening around his hips.
He finished quickly after you, his thrusts extremely sloppy.
Pulling out of you, he collapsed next to you and pulled you into his arms, his body warm. You were both breathing heavily, his muscular arms engulfing you in a blanket of comfort,
"I love you so much," he murmured, tucking his head down, his forehead rested on top of your head.
"I love you," you whispered, "thank you."
He didn't say anything, kissing the top of your head and tightening his arms around your body.
"Thank you, pretty girl."
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main masterlist | my profile | thg masterlist | request | proof read: ✓
4K notes · View notes
finelinefae · 2 months
Text
soft
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synopsis: girls with cute tummies and soft thighs and extra chub in different places can also date hot popstar boys okay? okay.
word count: 2.1 k
contains: plus size reader, non au harry, fluff, mentions of body image and insecurities, harry being obsessed with his girlfriend
A/N: the start of a new thing called 'soft girl sundays' which I'm starting !! i wrote this for wp a few months ago but it's one of my fave things I've written so I'm re-posting it here. it's cheesy and fun and harry's obsessed with his girl !! i know for a lot of us girlies sometimes it feels like we take up too much space and we're always made to feel smaller mentally, physically, in every way really but you have much of a right to be here as everyone else so take up alllll the space u need !! women are beautiful and majestic no matter their size 💘
. . .
My girls' in the audience tonight.
I look past the curtain across the stage and see her in the VIP section.
Even without the stage lights shining on her, she's glowing.
She's wearing a shirt with my initials stitched over her heart and every time she lifts her arms, I see her soft tummy and the dimples on her back when she spins. Her thick thighs are on show as she wears the smallest pink skirt known to man. Her hair falls past her shoulder and down her back and her cute cheeks turn pink as she smiles when she speaks to some of the team who stand with her. 
She's the living embodiment of the divine feminine and I can't ever seem to get over the fact that she's all mine. 
The music begins to play and I watch as her face lights up with excitement. She's seen this show over a few dozen times but she never fails to be just as excited as the first time she saw me walk on stage with a hickey on my neck that she'd put there moments before.
When it's my queue, I skip onto the stage and my ears nearly burst as the sound of people screaming over the music starts to fill the stadium. She's smiling, she's cheering, she's singing the words to every single song. She's so pretty and she's all I see.
When the show ends, I walk backstage to my dressing room. Normally I'd run into a car and get the Hell out of there before crowds of people start to fill up the streets to get home, but this time, Y/N was here and I knew how much anxiety she felt whenever we had to rush to be somewhere.
I walked in and accepted the compliments from my team after another successful show. Paris was a city I held close to me so it was always a fun time when we played.
I gulped down a glass of water and felt arms snake around my waist. I immediately grinned when I saw the lilac-painted nails that matched my very own. I feel her nuzzle her face into my back before I twist in her embrace and look into the eyes of the girl I love with everything in me.
"Hi baby," I whisper, stroking her cheek that still had glitter on it.
"Hi Harry," Y/N murmurs, her eyes tired but full of happiness.
"Y' okay?" I hold her, feeling her soft skin beneath my hand. She was so soft and cuddly.
"I'm okay." She smiles, lazily. "You did so good up there. I nearly cried,"
I laugh, "You always nearly cry."
"That's because I'm proud of you." She shrugs.
We sit on the couch and she straddles my lap, her skirt riding up and I nearly choke when I catch a glimpse of her lacy underwear. I put my hands on her thighs and squeeze them softly. "You excited for our trip tomorrow?" I asked, staring at her lips and suddenly feeling the temptation to kiss them. I did and she happily accepted.
We had a few days before the next show so we decided to head down to the South of France and spend a few days in Nice. We haven't been on a trip together in a while other than the tour locations so we made the most of the little time we had in between shows to spend as much time as we could together.
She nods, "I bought a new swimsuit just for the occasion."
I groan, my head falling back against the couch, "You kill me."
She giggles, "love you."
I immediately smile. "I love you too," I kiss her.
The morning after the show, we woke up early to make our flight down to Nice. Y/N whines the entire time because she's not a morning person and refuses to step one foot out of bed until I force her.
She sleeps on my chest the entire journey there, wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood up. "My whole heart is inside y'." I murmur as her cheek presses against my chest and makes her lips all pouty, light snores falling from them. I lightly push some of her baby hairs back from her face and trace my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.
We arrive and head straight to our room at the hotel to drop our bags off before heading to the beach. Y/N immediately opens the doors to the balcony and gasps when she looks out at the view. "Harry, it's beautiful," Y/N says in awe.
I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her tummy, squeezing the softest part of her. I loved all the parts of her but her tummy was my absolute favourite. She always complained about it. How it stuck out when she wore tight clothing and even more so after eating. 'Harry I already have a tummy? Why punish me further by making it bigger after I eat? Seems unfair don't you think?'  I'd spend the whole journey home telling her how beautiful she looked and how I loved watching her enjoy the food she loves and then I'd hold her in bed and run circles on her little, bloated belly because I had made it my life's mission to show as much love to the little chub of a tummy she had.
I pull on my swim shorts and a white linen shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I pack my beach bag for our beach towels and my book as well as my film camera and sun lotion.
Y/N walks out of the bathroom. Her hair in loose curls from the heat and her face already sunkissed and pretty. My mouth falls open when I take in the small, blue bikini on her body, revealing her soft curves and every perfect inch of her.
"Do you like it?" She blushes, acting like she's not the hottest girl I've ever seen in my entire life.
It tied at her waist and around her neck, my immediate thought being how easy it would be to take it off her and spend the entire day in bed, making out or whatever. I honestly couldn't care less as long as she's there.
"Baby," I dropped the bag on the floor and made my way towards her, pinching her chin between my thumb and forefinger and tilting her head back so I could kiss her at the perfect angle.
She whines and the sound nearly has me dropping to my knees. "You're fucking unbelievable."
"You really think so?" She bites back a smile, "You don't think I need to hide my stretch marks?" My heart aches at how unsure she sounded, the fact she even had to ask made me want to pick her up and kiss each stretch mark on her body.
"No, my love," I shake my head, kissing the stretch marks at the top of her left breast and feeling her heart racing at the delicate touch. "You have absolutely nothing to hide from anybody. Y' beautiful and you're mine,"
She smiles and kisses me again.
We head down to the beach to the reserved sunbeds. Y/N lays out her towel and sits down to apply sun cream to her arms and legs. I help her do her back, massaging her shoulders and trying not to combust as she rolls her head to the side and moans at the feeling.
I literally have a crush on this woman.
And she's my fucking girlfriend.
What did I do to get this lucky in life?
"Let's go in the water baby," I held her hand and we walked to the water, stepping in together.
She wraps her arms and legs around me when we're deep enough in the water. I squeeze her ass and she gasps, swatting me gently. "What?" I look at her innocently.
"There's people watching." She hides her face in my neck and I turn us both around to catch sight of the paparazzi hiding behind the trees and snapping pictures of us.
I release a sigh and pull her face back to get a better look at her. If there was one thing that could make my girlfriend second guess herself, it was the paparazzi constantly posting her pictures online and allowing people to berate her for how she looked.
"Please don't let them ruin your day my love," I kiss her shoulder, still holding her in my arms. "I promise, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"You promise?" She pouts.
"Feel this," I reach for her hand and guide her to the small bit of chub on my hip.
She gasps, "You have chub too!"
I rolled my eyes but smiled at the same time, her excitement was adorable. "Everyone's got something they're insecure about. No matter how hard I've tried I can't seem to get rid of it, maybe it's from all the cakes you've been making but how am I meant to say no to such a pretty face?"
She squeals in delight when I pinch her sides and giggles as I press kisses to her face. "Wanna go and sunbathe for a little, baby?" She nods and we both walk out of the water so she can sit in the sun for a bit.
I spend more time in the water and come out to find Y/N verging on the brink of sleep. I smirk as I crawl between her legs and lay between her thighs, sighing softly as I turn my head away from the sun and press a kiss to her inner thigh. She reaches down and runs her fingers through my wet hair, her nails scratching my scalp.
After midday, I order food to be sent up to our room. Y/N's passed out on the sunbed so I gently shake her awake, "Hi baby," Her pretty eyes flutter open, "Need you to drink something darling, you've been in the sun for a while." She slowly sits up and rubs her eyes with the back of her hand. I unscrew the cap of the water bottle and pass it to her, watching as she almost drinks the whole thing.
"I got us room service to be delivered. Want to head back upstairs for a bit?" Her cheeks were red and her hair was all frizzy due to the humidity. She nodded and we packed our things up and made our way back to our hotel room.
Our food was already laid out on the balcony by the time we walked into the room. I had left the air conditioning on so the room was nice and cool since Y/N struggled to sleep when it was too hot and stuffy.
She was wearing my linen shirt over her bikini and I couldn't help but stare at her ass as I followed her to the table outside.
There was fruit, bread and pastries laid out on a spread at the table as well as a glass of red wine and some orange juice. Y/N sat on one of the chairs with one leg hitched up as she ate some of her baguette and cheese, her favourite snack to eat when we were in France.
"Are you having fun, my love?" I asked, taking a bite of fresh watermelon.
She nods quickly, "It's the best. Anytime with you is always the best,"
"Come sit here," I motion and move my chair out, patting my thigh. She doesn't hesitate and stands up to sit down on my lap.
I kissed the back of her neck and put one hand on her hip, my thumb traced the edge of the waistband of her bikini bottoms, slipping under the material to trail soft circles over her hip bones.
"I'm keeping you forever, I hope you know that," I murmur, appreciating this intimate moment between us which didn't happen as often as I liked them to but we made do.
"I hope so," She whispers.
I loved this girl for all she was. There is nothing in this world that could change just how much I adored her.
"Harry," She says my name, "This bikini is pretty easy to take off you know."
I choke, eyes widening and seeing the smirk on her face. I pick her up, her legs wrapping around me and her ankles locking behind my back. "Is that a challenge or a request?" I kiss her lips, tasting the saltiness of the sea on them.
"Both," She says in between kisses.
This girl. 
663 notes · View notes
straykidsholicleigh · 4 months
Text
Sit On My Face
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Pairing: bf!minho x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: kissing, cunnilingus, face sitting, reader is kinda insecure? subby minho kind of lol, implied second round
a/n: I hate it but it is what it is 🤷🏻‍♀️
important: this is a work of fiction. none of the characters act this way in real life.
credits: deviders by @not-the-herb-sage <3
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The sound of the clock made you anxious, waiting for Minho to come home. He told you he'd be home soon and for you not to wait up, but he should know you better because now it's 1:36 am and he's still not home.
You sighed, getting up from the couch and making your way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As if on que, the sound of keys rattling and the squeaking of the door made you put your glass down, walking over to the front door to see Minho standing there. His expression was cold, his eyes dark as he pulled is jacket off and hung it on the rack.
You wanted to be mad at him. To scream at him and ask him why he came so late. But seeing his tired and sleepy face made you feel sorry for him. It was comeback season and you knew how serious the boys take it. Especially Minho when it comes to choreo, so you decided not to be mad at him.
“Sorry...” He mumbled, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and chugging it down. You sighed, sitting on top of the counter as you looked at him. “It's okay,” You said, smiling weakly. “Did you eat something? I can make you a ramyeon cup-” “No.” He simply said. He made his way over to you, caging you between the counter.
He brought his lips to your neck, inhaling and letting out a shaky sigh. “You smell so good,” He said, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “New perfume?” You nodded, wrapping your hands around his neck, bringing him closer to you. “Versace bright crystal. Hyunjin recommended it.”
Minho chuckled dryly. “Cute. You smell heavenly.” You blushed, looking away to the side as Minho admired you. “Your so pretty.” He said, kissing down your neck.
He slowly unbuttoned your shirt, sucking purple and blue marks on your skin. “Min, I have work tomorrow.” You said, rubbing down his back as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Call in sick. I want you now.”
He attached his lips to your neck again, removing your bra and pulling it over your arms before discarding somewhere on the floor. He hastily grabbed a nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly as you let out little moans. Your hand got entangled in his long brown hair as you gently tugged on it.
“I love your hair Minho. So soft and smooth.” You sighed. Minho smiled, his mouth moving down as he kissed your ankle. “Thanks baby. If you really like it that much I'll keep it for longer.” You desperately nodded your head, moaning as he gave your nipple a squeeze.
He tapped your thigh to get you to move, which you did. Once you were off the counter, he picked you up and carried you to your shared bedroom, throwing you on the bed and attaching his mouth to your stomach, grabbing your boobs in his hands.
“Fuck, such pretty tits,” He grunted, slapping your right boob and pinching the nipple. He worked his way into getting your shorts off before taking your underwear into his mouth. He gently removed it before looking down at you with an eyebrow raised, your panties hanging from his mouth, showing off his cute bunny teeth.
He dropped it onto his hand and threw it on the floor, before hovering above you as his mouth moved closer to your neck.
“Sit on my face, darling?” He asked. You looked at him with wide eyes, looking down at his hard on. You weren't sure if you were ready to sit on his face.
You shook your head, hesitantly wrapping your hands around his neck. “I- I don't know Minho. W-what if I'm too heavy for you or I suffocate you? What-what if-” Minho cut you off by smashing his lips against yours.
The kiss was firm as you grabbed him by his hair, pulling him closer to you if that was even possible. He bit your bottom lip and you whimpered, letting him in your mouth as he explored your mouth with his tongue. He was the first to pull away, a string of saliva keeping you two together.
“You won't crush my face. Now be a good girl and do as I say, hmm?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You knew he wouldn't do anything if you weren't comfortable with it. Minho was that type of person. You knew that if he sensed you didn't want to do it he wouldn't force you.
You nodded you head muttering a small "alright" before rolling over so you were on top of him. “That's my girl.” He smiled, looking at you as you pulled his shirt over his head, a blush appearing on your face. You let out a shaky sigh, positioning yourself over his mouth. You stayed there, not sure when to sit down exactly, just hovering above his mouth.
He started to grow impatient. “Just sit, love,” He tried, his voice desperate. You hesitantly sat down on his face, not to much and sighed as he licked your folds. You let your hands fall in front of you and grip the headboard.
“God, you taste perfect angel,” He moaned, sucking on your clit making you whine. He hooked his hands under your thighs, pulling them down so now you were actually sitting on his face properly. “Fucking keep it there, don't move.”
You let out little moans and whines as he feverishly sucked on your clit, lapping away at all your juices. You felt the knot inside you slowly building up, about to burst any second.
“M-min, c-” You couldn't even form proper sentences as you felt your whole body was on fire, sweat dripping down beneath the valley of your breasts and falling down onto your boyfriends face.
“Gonna cum?” He mumbled against your clit. “Cum baby, squirt all over my face. U-use me.” And use him you did.
You pathetically rutted against his mouth, like a dog in heat and pulled his hair to keep him in place. You were rough and Minho seemed to like it.
Your breathing became heavier, more sharp as you let out a silent scream, your juices splashing all over your boyfriends face and making a mess as he tried to lap it up. You really felt like you suffocated him now.
You legs shook as you gently got off of him and sat on his abs, about to apologize but stopped as you saw his face.
He looked fucked out, happy even as a lazy smile spread across his face, his hands resting on your thighs.
“Thank you...” he mumbled, you smiled leaning down and kissing along his jaw, smirking as you could finally take care of him the same way he always took care of you.
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barbieaemond · 2 months
Text
The order of things
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Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: mild angst, masturbation, oral sex (m receiving), grinding
Word count: 3k
Taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee @credulouskhaleesi @bunbunbl0gs @alphard-hydraes-blog
MASTERLIST
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There is a raven that flies towards the rookery as soon as the sun is high enough to bathe the Keep in orange. It always comes at the same split minute, Aemond sees it every day, because it is the same split minute in which his training ends. Sometimes he even manages to get the better of the bird, then looks up as he sheathes his sword and awaits him. As soon as it crosses the sky he leaves the courtyard.
His day is like a prayer, devoutly tenacious and unchanging. A bath, breakfast, a flight on dragonback, a book. A visit to Helaena and the twins if the reading bores him.
Someone might say that even his walk is always the same. Rigour and order, to be everything Aegon is not.
This time, he disarms Ser Criston well in advance, so much that the raven has yet to show itself, and when it does, Aemond will be blind to his passing.
"Mother," he says curtly as the Queen passes by. She goes to pray as she does every morning, always at the same time. She too is a creature devoted to rigour, and duty; she has seized her days and clutched them in her fist to prevent them from floating through her.
She pauses to greet him, her voice as mellifluous as ever and her eyes just as warm, and then suddenly, he turns to look at her as if he is looking at a stranger, as if she is speaking a language he does not know. "I wanted to tell you that I'm going to see some girls today, to choose your new maid."
"What's wrong with my maid?"
"Well, I figured she might ask for a leave as the wedding approaches."
He blinks, he stalls, he bogs, unnaturally, the sand stops in the hourglass. The raven glides over the towers, unnoticed.
"Yes, of course." he says, sheathing his sword, and the sand flows again, grain by grain; the funnel shrunk.
Everything in his life is part of that rigour, even people, even her.
She has been in his service long enough to know without asking when the scar pulls to the point of requiring medication. She has been in his service long enough to know that a slight frown in his eyebrows is enough to make her close the curtains and prevent the light from worsening the pain in his head, to know that he likes his venison rather raw, that he hates that doublet because the sleeves are puffed and he feels like a court jester. And she tacitly made it disappear.
She does everything without uttering a word. She doesn't need to ask, she moves when he moves, she has adapted to him like a second skin, and she doesn't seem harmed by the edges.
Yet he is harmed by something, as she pulls off his boots in front of the fireplace. He sees a flat sea where he would like to see a storm. He sees grains flowing and wishes to crash the glass.
"Do you need anything else my Prince?" she has a seraphic expression on her face, and he sees deception. She speaks in a firm, devoted voice, and he hears betrayal.
He stares at her with the eye that looks like a needle, feels like it, then shifts his gaze to the fire and says "I will be in need of your assistance tomorrow, for the whole day."
"The whole day?"
"Yes. Why? Do you have something better to do than the duties you are paid for?"
She is no novice to his bitter tongue; somehow, stupidly, naively and recklessly, she is able to imbue it with treacle when it enters her head. It doesn't matter anyway, her foolishness will end as soon as she takes her vows.
"No. Of course not. I'll be at your service, my Prince."
"Hmm, until?"
"Until?"
"You should be the one to tell me. When is the wedding due?"
Her eyes widen like two large moons and she seems to crumple in on herself, on the floor she is kneeling on, under the Prince's unwavering, iron eye. She feels her throat tighten and yet his hands are steady along the armrests. She feels her lungs crackle against her ribcage. "I—"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Why didn't she?
"My prince, I thought your Grace should not be bothered with such trivial matters."
"I decide what to be bothered about." He says in an imperative tone. "When would you have bothered to inform me? Is this how you show loyalty to your prince? Keeping things from me?"
She glues her eyes to the floor, she cannot hold the Prince's gaze, not when he is like this, even though he has never been like this. He looks angry, he looks outraged? As if he has been wronged. That look makes her blood run cold, and then it melts in red down her cheeks and neck. It would be too easy to blame the chimney behind her back, easy but necessary, to keep things in order. Prince and servant, nothing more. What else is there?
There are heavy sighs falling in the dark, stranded between the sheets as his bones boil and tense at the climax, desire spilled, wasted. But that's fine. To not be all that Aegon is. This too has become rigour, part of the order of things.
It is the order of things to watch her kneel at his feet and wish to spill his desire into her mouth. As is seeing her nails always neat and tidy scratching the floor as her back arches against him, as is seeing the blood reddening her cheeks and neck, and wanting to lick it as far as it goes. 
Someone else will do it. An ordinary man of no consequence in the order of things, the real one.
"You may go." he says coldly, hoping the frost of his tongue will cool the feverish blood under his skin.
She rises from the floor with a bowed, desolate head. "I bid you good night, my Prince."
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The next morning he asks her to change the sheets, and he turns his back on her, ashamed, as if she knows she is in those sheets.
He takes a bath while she does her chores, finishing exactly when he does, because she moves when he moves. She helps him put on a dark green robe, unperturbed by his nudity, because that is her duty and it no longer makes her blush.
There's never been clumsiness in her hands, but there is today. Aemond feels her hands heavy as boulders when she prepares the ointment for his eye, when she leans over him to remove his eyepatch. She doesn't speak to him as she always does, oozing that glimmer of amusement when she brings up the servants' petty feuds and wars.
"You're rather quiet today." He asserts later, as she buttons his doublet "Has the armistice been reached in the kitchens?"
She opens in a brief smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I don't know, Your Grace. I find myself spending a lot more time outside the Keep these days."
"Is that so?” He retorts, narrowing his eye “Hmm, is that why my books are still on the desk?"
She finishes her buttoning and ties her hands on her modest skirt. "I am sorry, Your Grace. I will see to it that they are put in order at once."
"I have no use for your apology. Why didn't you do it when I told you to?"
"Your mother gave me a leave for a few hours yesterday."
"And why did you ask my mother and not me? You are in my service, not hers."
She keeps looking down like a suspect on trial and swallows. "I went to Flea Bottom to buy some fabric for my wedding dress. I was ashamed to ask you for a leave for something so frivolous. As a woman, I thought your mother would understand."
"You will do no such thing in the future. Hide things from me and leave the Keep without my permission, or I'll have you punished. Am I being clear?"
"Your Grace, I…” she pauses, she looks down, she swallows, but it’s now or never. “You should know that I will no longer be here after the wedding. I am going to formally resign my position. Your Mother has already-"
His eye goes wide, and wild, and he breathes loudly until he is snarling. "Are you deaf or dense? Did you not hear me? You will not leave my service."
The moons in her eyes are full now. She looks at him, begging him to let her go, because that is the natural course of things. She will marry a common man, give him a couple of children and live a quiet life in the country, where her groom has a smallholding of land, their only source of wealth if they do not want a life of misery in Flea Bottom. And she is fine with that. She has accepted it. She is like any other common girl, she cannot dream, her blood is only red, there's no castle nor crown waiting for her.
She has accepted her fate with the calmness of a stream that lets itself be carried along by its current. She is happy like this, because as far as she could, in that silly way in which all ordinary girls dream, she dreamed, even though her dream is made of flesh and blood.
She had shivered when he had leaned over her when he taught her to read. She had breathed in deeply to know what he smelled like. She had felt ice in her stomach under his gaze when she read a few pages to him. And that is more than dreaming.
She cannot remain in his service, because she is an ordinary girl and more than dream, she cannot want.
"Your Grace..." she begs, going down to the floor "I beg you. Let me go my way. I believe I have always served you to the best of my ability and if I’ve ever failed you in something, name it. I will do anything to make it right."
Aemond bogs again, but in something far more paralysing and at the same time overwhelming than all his rigour. Perhaps it is the sight of her on her knees again, her head bowed and devoted, and the fact that he wants to touch that devotion, wants to taste it and swallow it.
Slowly, he lifts her chin with two fingers, eye blind to everything else; his thumb moves over her lower lip as if to know its edges, as if he has wanted to do this all his life.
"Anything?" he asks in the voice of another, the one stranded in the sheets.
She nods slowly, and the movement rubs his thumb against her teeth for a moment, forcing him to swallow, to give himself control, not to push his finger in. He is not Aegon, He is not Aegon, he is not Aegon.
"Would you be willing to please me?" he asks, and his question reaches some remote place in her, that place where a girl can dream and want freely. In that place, if he had asked once, twice, a hundred times, she would have bent to his will, not to the duty of the servant who must please her lord. Sure, that too. But first of all to her will. It is a question that need not be asked, for there is but one answer.
"Yes..."
Blood flows into her cheeks, breathing out fire from her lips. "How...? How do you want me to please you, my Prince?"
"With this..." he replies, pushing his thumb over her lip.
Her hands move fluidly over the belt and buttons of his breechers as if she had done this countless times before. She helps him dress, she knows his body even though she has never touched him. She has never touched a man in her life, not like this. Aemond reads the embarrassment on her cheeks and he basks in it with a glimmer of pride, because he will be the first.
Gently, he places a hand behind her head, tilting it a little, and looks at her with his heavy, clouded eye, enthralled. "Open your mouth..."
He knows she's never done this before, but the hot alcove of her mouth is enough to make him open his mouth and let out air in a broken cadence. She raises her eyes as if to ask if she is doing something wrong, and the sight, real and not the outcome of some delusion hidden in the dark, smothers his breath. He begins to thrust into her mouth slowly, hardening quickly as she continues to look at him and welcome him into her mouth with the devotion with which one kneels to the Seven.
"Gevie..." he pants hoarsely, brushing his fingers through her hair "You look more beautiful than I thought like this..."
His hand in her hair never tightens, though his hips move faster and the wet sound is the only one that keeps his panting company.
"Your cheeks..." he instructs her "Hollow your cheeks..."
And just as when he was teaching her to read, she listens , sucking agonisingly slowly. “Fuck—” he curses, threading his long fingers through her hair and pulling at the roots; he thrusts faster so that she has to grip his waist with her hands but when he senses she can’t breathe, he lets of her head and slips out of her scorching lips, hissing at feeling the cold air of the room.
She’s panting hard, with her mouth open and slick with him. But she has little time to catch a puff of air. He thrashes her on the carpet, with a rough kiss full of teeth and growls, and his hands move like talons, pulling her modest skirts up to her waist.
“No—My Prince—” she muffles on his mouth, pleading but desperate all together “We can’t—”
“I won’t ruin you, I promise.” he says rummaging through her garments “Just let me feel you this once—”
He finds her core with his large hand, hot and slick, and she whimpers loudly in his open mouth. “Do you get this wet for your groom, hmm? Or just for your Prince?” 
She unconsciously bucks her hips against his hand and he smiles, delightfully, against her neck, licking a stripe down her throat. “I’m in need of an answer, my sweet girl…” he says raising his head, the leather piece is about to fall behind his disheveled hair. “Have you touched yourself thinking of me?”
Shame washes over her as well as pride does him. “You did, didn’t you?”
His retrieves his hand and licks her off his fingers as if he was waiting for nothing else, staring at her with his eye pitch black.
“Do it.”
“M-my Prince?”
“Touch yourself. Now.”
She looks away, reddening even more, but he grasps her chin and forces her to look at him. “Do you want that permission to leave my service?”
It takes her a minute to swallow her shame, and then her hands is slipping between them. He pulls himself up on one arm to give her space to spread her legs some more, to watch closely as she starts to move her little hand on her bundle of nerves. “Look at me.” He commands, and she flutters her eyes with a bit of prudery before obliging.
Her breathing becomes heavy, just as his, slowly touching himself to mimic her, as he has done countless of times before but this is different. This is like the first time. He can watch her chasing her pleasure because of him, with him. He can watch the sweat beading her neck, her lip trembling. He can hear the sweet lewd sounds she makes for him.
She grows more desperate by the moment, swaying her hips on the carpet, grabbing his shoulder and neck until he falls on her. He groans upon feeling her cunt against his cock and by now they’re both too close to need hands anymore. He starts to grind against her, his hard flesh slicking ever so easily on her wetness, swallowing her whimpers and moans as he pants and rasps on her lips “Go on, sweet one. Come for me, hm?”
She does so, gripping his shoulders until digging her nails on the fabric, moaning with her mouth slack open.
He keeps grinding against her, frantic, panting, the eyepatch is somewhere on the ground and she watches him in the stupor of pleasure, like she’s experiencing a vivid dream, but the weight of the prince on her is real, his cock rubbing against her core making it twitch for more, his coarse voice as he rasps “Gods—‘M so close…” and then the jolt of warm seed on her belly.
He falls on her breathing hard, making her wince, but she can't find the strength to slip away, to pull down her skirt or move the long silvery lock that has gone into her mouth. She must leave everything as it is, and then leave it to be the ordinary girl without dreams.
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For two days, her presence around the Keep is rather scarce, barely traceable in the Prince’s chambers. But his breakfast is always ready on his desk, his clothes always clean and well folded on the chair.
Aemond does not send for her nor does he seem to care where she is. He returns to his rigour, to his books, to his training as soon as dawn breaks.
One of the Kingsguard shows up in the courtyard and stands there to watch, waiting for the Prince to finish his duel.
"My Prince, I've done some research after our last conversation."
"Well?"
"Just as you said, your Grace. A modest cottage and a piece of land near Duskendale."
"Good." He says, sheathing his sword and glancing up upon hearing a distant caw. "I want you to send two city guards there, and burn it all down."
The guard blinks, widening his eyes. "My Prince?"
"You heard me."
The guard leaves and Aemond hears cawing again, closer this time. He glances up and the raven greets him, flapping his wings in the newborn sun.
Everything is in order.
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royalarchivist · 4 months
Text
Tubbo: I swear to God, Chat - I promise you, if it's the last thing I do, I am going to break up Fit and Pac.
Mike passed the crown of #1 Hideduo hater to Tubbo, and Tubbo took that title very seriously.
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[ Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]
-
Pac: I have a date with Fit tomorrow! You know the news, Tubbo?
[ Tubbo's Homophobic Arc ]
Pac: I got a date with Fit tomorrow!
Tubbo: You're - no... You're kidding..
Pac: Yeah, for real! Look - Mike shaved my hair you know, and gave me a new outfit so I can be like, sharp for tomorrow. ...You guys like it? You like it, Sunny?
[Judgemental silence]
Tubbo: That's so cool man, what he hell. That's fckin' sick.
Pac: Yeah, thank you! I knew it, I knew you'd- Oh, thank you, Sunny! I knew you guys were gonna love it, you know? I knew it.
-
Tubbo: I swear to God- I swear to God- We need to add homophobia to the QSMP, I swear to God- I swear to God-
-
Tubbo: Guys, I have to do everything in my power to break them up. What do you mean "no"?! This is awful, Sunny! This is awful!
Sunny: But why Pa?
Tubbo: THEY WERE NEVER MEANT TO GET TOGETHER! The stars told me so! They were never meant to actually get together!
Sunny: WHY PA
Tubbo: It's just wrong, Sunny! It's just wrong! I dunno how to explain it to you. It's just wrong!
Sunny: But it's loveeeee
Tubbo: ...If that's what you want to call it.
-
Tubbo: HOW IS THERE GONNA BE ENOUGH SPACE BETWEEN THEM FOR ME NOW, SUNNY?!
Sunny: You're telling me you've never been in love Pa?
Tubbo: Listen, it's just not right.
Sunny: But I like bodyguard Fit and driver Pac :(
Tubbo: I like them too! They're my best friends! But they can't be together.
Sunny: I think you are projecting
Tubbo: PROJECTING WHAT? HUH!?
Sunny: I will find you someone, Pa.
Tubbo: I DON'T WANT SOMEONE! I DON'T WANT SOMEONE IT ONLY SERVES TO DISAPPOINT ME AND GET MY HOPES UP AND LEAVE ME- LEAVE ME NOTHING BUT A SHELL! A SHELL OF A MAN!
-
Tubbo: Sunny - They're gonna hurt each other, Sunny- they're gonna hurt each other! And how will there be enough space between them for me now?
Sunny: Why would they do that if they care for each other?
Tubbo: People that care about each other, Sunny, hurt each other all the time! ALL THE TIME!
Sunny: But I care about you, and I don't hurt you.
Tubbo: No, that's different! That's different! The love that we have for each other is unconditional. Ok?
Sunny: Pa, I think you're just scared.
Tubbo: I'm not scared, I'm logical. All flags look red when you're wearing rose-tinted glasses.
-
Tubbo: [In response to Sunny talking about Aypierre's agreement to build her a statue] You already have a statue! [Sunny hits him] Ow!
Tubbo: What about the one Fit and Ramon made you for your birthday? [Tubbo has an idea] See? Do you think Fit would have time to do stuff like that if he's too- if he's too preoccupied with his little shag buddy? I don't think so! I don't think so!
Sunny: Wait.
Tubbo: See? You see what I'm saying? You see what I'm saying!
Sunny: You have a good point now
Tubbo: See? You under- yes, exactly! We HAVE to break them up! They can still be friends! Fck it, friends with benefits! But they cannot be together. We cannot let them.
Sunny: OK I'M IN
Tubbo: [Claps] I KNEW I COULD COUNT ON YOU! I knew I could count on you!
-
[Looking at fanart of Pac, Fit, and himself]
Tubbo: We- we have to split them up. We have to fckin' split them up. Oh, but I'm in this one! Oh, that's so-[Realizes it's him crying as a third-wheel] SEE?! SEE?! THEY KNEW! THEY KNEW! THEY FCKIN' KNEW! THEY FCKIN' KNEW!
-
Tubbo: [In a thick "red-blooded American" accent] Wha- I just don't understand why they have 'ta keep shoving it down our throats! Goddamnit! I JUST WISH IT WASN'T MY SMP! [He hits his desk and laughs]
-
Dono: Streamer becomes homophobic 'cause he can't get any
Tubbo:
Tubbo: Sunny, I'm just gonna need to brb for a moment.
Tubbo: [Stands up from his desk, walks away, and screams]
-
Tubbo: I swear to God, Chat - I promise you - if it's the last thing I do, I am going to break up Fit and Pac.
603 notes · View notes
moinsbienquekaworu · 2 years
Text
Someone pay attention to me (please don't look at me) someone pay attention to me (I socialised too much the last few days don't) someone pay attention to me (I'm going to be stuck 24/7 with friends for a few days don't even think about me) someone pay attention to me!!!
0 notes
miguelhugger2099 · 4 months
Note
Omg first off LOVE!!! your wiring literally *chef’s kiss* imagine Miguel x reader suggestive smut where they’ve been both super busy and haven’t had time for each other and tension has been building up to this point.
Worth the Wait
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nonie im gonna sob. not only was i so excited to see you be my first ask, this is also my first ever written smut!! aaaa im so nervous so please have mercy !! i jumped on my laptop as soon as i saw this and its so late right now haha im a little tired but i didnt want you to wait at all !! im not sure if i wrote too much or too little lol regardless i really hope you enjoy and if not i'm more than happy to make something else and thank you sososo much for the compliment <3333 the ask wasnt specified if it was fem!reader or not so i made it gn!reader just in case <3 Miguel x GN!Reader, Smut, too embarrassed to proofread it, Word Count: 3,681
“Hey, Miguel, do you think you could stay late tonight? Boss wants you in the lab for testing.” A short woman popped her head in his room, her hair neatly tucked in a high bun. Miguel stopped his pacing in his office, his glasses lifted on his head using it as a headband to pull back his fringe. He placed the beakers in his hands down and took off his gloves while ruby eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. He was supposed to leave in a couple minutes.
Miguel’s eyebrows scrunched up, tsking under his breath and turning to look at the woman. “Can’t someone else be there? Peter can oversee it instead.” He pleaded, exasperated. She gave him a sympathetic look and sighed.
“Sorry, Miguel. He specifically asked for you.” Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news anymore, she slipped out the door and shut it behind her, leaving Miguel to groan and slump his shoulders. He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, breathing in and out to calm his anger. It seemed like these days all he ever did was overtime at work. He fiddled with the golden band around his left ring finger, his other hand twirling it mindlessly for some comfort and also a silent apology to you.
His heart ached as he made his way to his desk, picking up his phone and dialing your number. He licked his lips while he brought the phone up to his ear. Miguel wasn’t prepared to hear your voice, happy and hopeful and only be met with disappointment.
“Miggy?” You answer happily. A small smile forms on Miguel’s face.
“H-hey, baby. You doing alright?” He asked, taking a seat on his swivel chair and leaning back to stare at the photo of you two on his desktop.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m finishing up dinner. Are you on your way home?”
Miguel’s smile dropped a bit, realizing once more why he had called in the first place. “Um, about that, mi corazón. I have to–”
“You have to stay the night, don’t you?” You cut him off, disappointment evident in your voice. Miguel’s heart clenched at the sound.
“I…I do. Believe me, I don’t have a choice or I’d be there in a heartbeat.”
“It’s okay, really. I’m not mad or anything. This month has been hectic for both of us. I just… I just miss you is all.” You speak softly over the phone. He missed you more. He wanted to be there.
“Lo siento, bebé. You know how much I hate being away from you.” He apologized. “How about tomorrow, huh? I have off. We can go out and get a drink. Or maybe stay home? I know how much you love my cooking.” He offered, his heart beating faster at the thought of spending time with you again. That feeling sank when he heard you let out a quick puff of air in annoyance.
“I can’t. I’m working this weekend. Six days in a row,” You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. Your job always had a way of pushing your buttons. Miguel’s jaw clenched as he heard you. Miguel never really liked this recent event of work taking up his time from seeing you. He hated it even more when your job took you away from him. “God, I really thought we’d have tonight together at least.”
Miguel was quick to reassure you. “Hey, hey. Listen. We’ll have a day together. Eventually there’ll be a day for just us–all about us, I promise.”
When Miguel had arrived home, it could barely be even classified as night time with the way the sun had been peeking through the horizon. He dragged his body through the door, a cold home awaiting him. After kicking off his shoes, he dumped his coat and bag on the floor and made his way to the kitchen, eating the leftovers of the dinner you two were supposed to eat together before trudging back to bed. He saw you lying there on your side and he felt exhaustion drag him down.
Miguel slipped in under the covers beside you after striping himself of his clothes, leaving him in his underwear and slipped his arm around you. He pressed your body flushed against his, Miguel’s larger body enveloping yours protectively. His nose buried itself in your neck, his lips grazing your shoulder. His hand rubbed your stomach and then slid up to rub up and down your waist. Sneakily, he ran his hand under your shirt while his lips left small kisses on your neck and shoulder. You stirred awake as you felt the sudden touch of someone else.
Miguel felt you move so he pulled you tighter to him, keeping you caged in that position. “Mig…?” You called out sleepily. You felt something poke you from behind and groaned. Miguel continued to kiss your neck, his teeth coming out to gently nip at the skin making you shiver. He simply hummed his response.
“‘M home.” He murmured. He slowly turned you on your back, towering over you slightly with your leg between his. Miguel’s arm rested by your head while his attacks became more intimate. You leaned your head back, allowing him more access and his other hand on your hip squeezed you in appreciation. You bent your leg up on the bed slightly, your knee caressing his growing bulge in his boxers. Miguel let out a low groan, his hips grinding on you for some friction.
Your hands finally reached up to his hair, curling your fingers around his soft wavy brown locks. Miguel took this as an opportunity to capture your lips with his, muting the soft moans you were letting out. His own knee spread your legs apart, rubbing in between them to add to your pleasure. You felt a jolt of pleasure run down your spine, bucking your hips up instinctively. Miguel sighed against you, his hand on that had been gripping your hip, moved down to the hem of your pajama pants. He teasingly pulled it down, letting it snap back to your body and making you whine. You felt him grin through your kiss. Cheeky bastard.
Before he could ease his hand down your pants, your alarm had blared through the room, shocking the both of you and separating yourselves off each other. Miguel scowled while you clambered up to grab your phone. “The hell was that?” He grunted, displeased with being interrupted. You fumbled with turning it off, placing a hand on your chest to calm your fast beating heart.
“My alarm. I have a morning shift.” You moaned, tossing your phone back on the counter and standing up from the bed. Miguel blinked twice before getting up with you. He reached out his hand to grab yours in an attempt to stop you.
“Woah, woah, hey–what’s the rush?” He asked, turning you around and cupping your cheek. “We can at least have these couple minutes, can’t we?” His voice dropped an octave, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. Miguel tried to kiss downwards but you stopped him, albeit unwillingly.
“Amor, you know damn well how Nueva York’s traffic is in the morning. I’m not gonna be late and get my ass in trouble ‘cause you can’t keep it in your pants.” You slipped from his arms with a playful roll of your eyes and walked to the kitchen. Miguel scoffed, slightly offended, his eyes watching you walk away and looking down at your ass.
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it.” He grumbled, looking down at the tent in his boxers wondering what to do with it now.
For the next week, it had been nothing but just pure torture. With the month making you and Miguel work away from each other, this week was stretching that limit. When Miguel worked in the morning, you’d work at night and vice versa. Each time without fail, you managed to slip in a few teasing touches. Waking up Miguel by sitting on his lap and peppering kisses on his cheeks with his hands grinding your hips down on his hardening cock. Miguel cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze when you came home from work while he was on his way out. Both of you were on the brink of breaking by this point. These small acts were supposed to tame the fire within you, not burn it brighter.
Eventually, it was finally your day off after a long weekend. A break from customer service and passing out as soon as you got home. Miguel had work today but he texted earlier that he’d get off on the hour he was supposed to this time around. You felt bad. He’d been working so hard and today had been no different. He took a shift earlier than usual so he could come home earlier without anyone being there to suddenly ask for him to stay. Lord knows he’s pushing those forty hours into overtime.
From the bedroom, you heard the door open, keys jingling as it was turned to unlock it. You got up from the bed and peered out the door, seeing Miguel kicking off his shoes and coat while tossing his bag carelessly on the living room chair. “Welcome home.” You greeted him. He dragged his feet closer to you with his head down, the top buttons on his white button up were popped open, exposing a glimpse of his collarbone. Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a comforting hug. You followed suit, hugging him back since you sensed he probably had a rough day. He hummed in response, settling for resting his chin on your head. You stayed like that for a while just holding one another until you felt his hand run under your shirt to feel your soft skin against his calloused hands. They continued up and up your spine until your shirt was lifting up with him. “Miguel.”
“What?” He grumbled. One hand slid down under your pants, getting a quick feel of your ass and pulling your pelvis to him. You gasped and tightened your hold around him, feeling the warmth of arousal ignite in your stomach. “I need to have you. I can’t wait any longer.” His soft touching became more possessive, roughly grabbing your ass and tugging on your shirt and pants.
“Miguel.” You repeated his name, this time in a whimper. Your own hands slipped down his collared shirt and lightly scratched your nails on his large back which made him shiver. He pulled back and you saw his eyes hazed with desire, pupils blown wide.
“Please…” He whispered, his lips brushing up against yours. Your hands fell to his buttoned shirt as you looked up at him. Your heart raced in your chest–the sheer want of having you all to himself finally after weeks was too good to pass up. You nodded and the pleading look on Miguel’s face dropped as he immediately bent down to kiss you. You let out a squeak of surprise between his lips right before giving into his needs and kissing him back.
He tugged your pants down to your ankles before lifting you out of the puddle of clothes and bringing you to the bed. Once you were laid on top, you watched Miguel fumble with his belt. His large hands quickly unhooked the metal making it chime and the soft zipping sound of the leather sliding out his belt loops. He practically ripped himself free from his clothes, not even unbuttoning his shirt and just lifted it up and off his torso. You saw his girthy length, standing tall and proud with a slight red color tinged at his tip while the rest of him was a slighter darker color than his skin. His tip was already oozing with precum. A sight you had always welcomed. It became clear to you that Miguel had been thinking about this for a while–maybe all day. Miguel crawled on top of you, helping you out of your shirt and underwear and kissing you again while his hands roamed your body.
“I’ve waited so long. Did you miss me like how I missed you, cariño?” He sighed between your lips. Your hands clutched his shoulders, one leg hooking around his waist.
“Always.” You whimpered back.
“On your knees. Now.” He growled. You felt your heart skip a beat, another heartbeat going straight to your core. Stumbling, you got off your back and got on your hands and knees like Miguel wanted. This position has always made you flustered. It was both embarrassing and exhilarating not seeing what Miguel could do to you, or even get to put your hands on him–solely relying on feeling.
Perfect timing, his hands met your ass, grabbing them and massaging them. “So perfect,” He murmured. His finger grazed your aching hole where you were the most sensitive, purposefully teasing the nerves on your body. He took pleasure in the way you writhed beneath him, succumbing to his hand. His thick cock rubbed up against you, smearing his leaking fluid on you for even better access. Then ever so slowly, gliding in his fat weeping tip inside and penetrating your walls.
You both moaned in unison. The feeling of being stuffed was like finally feeling that last puzzle piece snap in place. “Uff, fuck–I’ve missed you,” He groaned, his breath shaking as he leaned over your body. His one hand held the headboard in front of him while his other hand held the plushness of your hip tightly. Miguel’s body was shaking as he entered you slowly, stretching you out after a long time of not seeing each other like this. You whimpered, falling from your hands onto your elbows as you shook with him. “Ease up, cariño, así es.” He praised, leaning back to watch his cock disappear inside you. His pride swelled at how easily he seemed to slide in you even after so long, his mouth curling into a sly smirk.
“Mi–guel…” You choked out a moan. You whined and gripped the pillow underneath your head tightly in your fists. You had forgotten just how huge Miguel was, his covered bulge was nothing compared to the real thing. Panting, you heard your heartbeat in your ears, turning your head to rest your cheek on the pillow.
Miguel’s hand left the headboard by this point, choosing instead to rest on your back, running down the curve of your spine to press your head down. You whimpered and clenched around him which made him let out a string of curses under his breath. You felt him push himself to the hilt, his balls gently smacking against the curve of your ass. He groaned, his hand on your head gripped your hair to still himself from pounding you immediately. The two of you stood there, breathing heavily while you felt each other. You could feel him throbbing inside you, twitching ever so softly. Miguel bit his lip to hinder himself from cumming on the spot with your walls convulsing around him, weakly attempting to suck him in deeper.
You wiggled your hips, bucking them back against Miguel with a pathetic whine. “M-move…plea–” You got cut off when Miguel slipped out of you, and then he slammed back inside making you scream and shake. He then began a steady pace, enough for movement but not as quick as you wanted. Still, you mewled and clutched at the sheets while his cock was ravaging your guts. The hand on your hip wrapped around your lower stomach, his bicep flexing as he held your weight up to fuck your from behind.
“Too long. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve fucked this needy hole properly.” Miguel sighed, huffing with each thrust of his hips. Your eyes rolled back and your jaw slacked open. Skin slapping echoed in the room along with the wet smack of sweat between your bodies. It was a symphony of lust and desire. An aching instinct to be reunited like this. You pleaded for more–a little quicker, a little harder– and Miguel who loved you so much didn’t want to deny either of you this ecstasy. He then used both hands to grab onto your hips and started to drag your body back and forth on his dick, drilling himself in you like a toy. Miguel used up all his frustrations of not being able to see you all this time, his eyes drinking in your writhing form while he bucked into you abandonly.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck–Miguel…!” You squealed, involuntarily squeezing him which made me grunt and buck his hips faster. You babbled nonsense while your core bubbled up the feeling of an orgasm. You screwed your eyes shut as you allowed Miguel to hump against you. He leaned over you again, pressing kisses on your back, murmuring things you could barely hear over the sound of your own moans.
Suddenly, Miguel had pulled out again leaving you feeling empty and light headed while the feeling of an impending orgasm disappeared. He let go of you, your hips bouncing on the bed without the support of his strength holding you up. You opened up your eyes, glazed with pleasure and shakily tried to look behind you. Before you could, Miguel took your body and flipped you on your back. It all happened quickly before you could even register what was happening. He took your legs and tugged your body closer to him like a ragdoll. He spread them wide then pressed them up against your chest. You lolled your head up and you saw his fringe had fallen to his forehead, sticking to it with his sweat. His chest was heaving up and down, the glow of the moonlight highlighting the carvings of his muscles perfectly–it made your breath hitch.
Miguel then loomed over you, nuzzling his head into your neck again. You leaned your head to the side making him gain more access to you. His teeth bit your soft flesh, his lips suckling your skin to leave tiny bruises along the side. “Ah–” You squirmed and gasped when you felt Miguel slide back into you again. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, your hand running through his already messy hair. You pressed his head closer, your eyes opening up hazily to stare at the ceiling while Miguel starts his pace again.
“So tight, just f’me, hm? You have no idea how much–” He moaned in between speaking, the lust clouding his mind. “H-how much I needed you. I should’ve just brought you to work, bend you over my desk and fuck you however long I want,” He shuddered at the thought, his hips stuttering while you whimpered and arched your back off the bed. “Oh, you like that?” He grinned, his voice oozing with arrogance. You nodded, your eyes shutting closed again and desperately lifting your hips to match his thrusting.
“Next time, bebé, next time. I promise. You’re doing so, so, good. You feel so good.” He slurred softly, his hips snapped harder, his cock twitching and swelling inside you.
“Mig–Mig–I can’t,” You moaned, your screams getting louder the harder Miguel went. “Oh, god, Miguel!” Miguel kissed you, swallowing all your moans while he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist the moment he let go of your thighs. His hands traveled around your body, feeling the shape of your silhouette back into his memory. He grabbed at anything he could hold onto before curling around your ass for a small squeeze.
He pulled away from the kiss, breaths mingling for a moment until Miguel rested his forehead on your shoulder. Your hands raked down his back and you dug your nails into his giant back, leaving streaks of red in their wake from scratching him. He moaned from it–the pain only adding to his pleasure-fueled mind. Miguel peppered kisses on your shoulder, making his way down to your chest.
“Miguel, I’m so close–so, so close…” You whimpered.
“I know, ángel, me… me too. Solo enfocate en mí, hm? Just let me have you.” He pleaded, his rough moans turning into whimpering as he neared his end. You responded with a weak ‘uh-huh’ then clinging onto Miguel for support.
He murmured in a jumble of Spanish and English, his breath hot on your neck while you screamed and pleaded for more, how good it felt, anything to get both of you going. Miguel lifted your lower half up, relentlessly pounding into you while he cursed lowly, burying his head in your shoulder again. You felt the bubble in your abdomen about to snap.
“Miguel, I–!” You tried warning him but instead the waves of your orgasm flooded your body, cumming on Miguel and making a mess between your legs. You twitched around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth. Your legs shook until you went limp, fucked out of your mind. Miguel whined, speeding up to catch his own release.
“Fuck–!” He moaned, feeling his cock pump out his creamy fat load inside you, painting your walls white. Miguel’s entire body tensed up, stilling up against you while he slowly came down from the high. His strokes gradually slowed down, pumping the final ropes of cum, while he softened inside you, huffing and puffing with you. He shakily but carefully pulled out of you after a few moments. You whimpered when he completely left you with a soft wet shlick.
Miguel fell beside you, exhausted and spent. Still, he reached for you, bringing your shivering body in his arms. You curled yourself in his chest weakly, feeling his hand play with your hair. He kissed your forehead, basking in each other's afterglow. He brought the covers up over you two for some extra warmth.
“I’ll…get us cleaned up in the morning…” He huffed with a tired smile. You grunted in response, too numb to speak but satisfied nonetheless.
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can you tell this is my first smut? hahaaaa dontanswerthatillcry
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roosterforme · 6 months
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The Adventures of Dr. Tits | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: Jake gives you the world's most obnoxious nickname. Bradley has an identity crisis. And you're the one making sure everybody gets home safely on New Year's Eve.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, suggestive language, drinking, beer pong
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time! Banner by @mak-32 Check out my masterlist for the reading order
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Bradley walked into the bedroom and froze as you were putting on your favorite pair of earrings. "What's wrong?" you asked, shaking your head at him. "Why are you staring at me like that?"
"You look fucking hot."
"Oh," you said with a smirk.
"This is a new dress," he rasped, running his fingers along the black fabric at your shoulder. "I really like it."
You kissed his cheek and whispered. "I knew you would, Beer Boy. It has a very low neckline."
He scoffed, "That's not the only reason I like it." But his eyes hadn't strayed from your chest for nearly thirty seconds. When his gaze finally met yours, he added, "My wife looks beautiful in everything."
"We're not married yet," you reminded him as his hand skimmed down your arm to your left hand and your engagement ring. 
"Only because you didn't want to get married the day after I proposed."
"We were standing in a Denny's parking lot!"
He just shrugged and laced his fingers with yours. "Sounds perfect to me. As long as it's us."
"A Denny's parking lot," you emphasized, and you could tell he was trying not to smile at your look of indignation.
"Nothing's too good for my girl," he replied, barely concealing his laughter. 
"Incredible," you muttered as you tugged him closer for another kiss. "You can take the Beer Boy out of the fraternity..."
He followed along, fingers linked with yours, as you led him into the dining room so you could finish setting up. "Wait, wait, it's like mistletoe. We have to kiss when we stand here," he said, leaning down to kiss you hard and proper in front of the doors that said SUGAR WILL YOU MARRY ME?
"Like mistletoe? I can't believe how sweet you are," you whispered as his lips trailed down to your neck.
"Let's call everyone and cancel." His tone was coaxing and his lips felt amazing.
"No," you moaned softly. "It's your Top Gun holiday party. And it's New Year's Eve."
When his mustache grazed the top of your chest as he said, "I'd rather tell everyone else to beat it so I can fuck my fiancée," you almost caved. But you promised everyone months ago, when you first moved to San Diego, that you and Bradley would host the annual party. There was a running joke that they got so wild one year, they almost got kicked out of a restaurant. But there was no way that was true. 
"We have to host. I promised."
"This better be low key. Seriously, I just want a nice, quiet night in," he grumbled.
You laughed while he acted like he was being tortured as he helped you carry the pretty punch bowl and crystal glasses you found at a thrift store into the dining room. "Everyone will be gone right after the stroke of midnight," you promised him. "And I thought you liked your coworkers?" 
He grunted and shrugged. "No, I like Nat. Bob's okay. Jake's annoying. The rest of the guys are fine."
"Oh my god," you whispered in awe, wrapping him up in a hug. "You love me the most, and I'm the only person you're not cranky for, Beer Boy." 
He chuckled and pressed his lips to your temple. "You're just catching onto this now? Ten years away from you has made it so that I want to be with you all the time."
Okay, well now you were thinking about canceling after all. If he was going to be extra sweet like this, you wanted him all to yourself as well. But then you heard someone knocking on the front door. Before you let Bradley go, you said, "If you're well behaved tonight, we can talk about wedding plans tomorrow."
He perked right up. "I'll be so good."
"But it's still a firm no to the Denny's parking lot." 
When you let Nat inside, she gave you a hug and said, "Hey, nice tits," before carrying a bottle of champagne to Bradley. At least now he had his friend to talk to. And you really didn't think your dress was that low cut...
After another knock, you let Bob in, and as soon as he looked at you, he was blushing profusely and stuttering. "Welcome, Bob," you said, really starting to regret wearing this dress in front of anyone except Bradley. When you leaned out onto the porth, the neighborhood was all lit up with twinkle lights. This was your first December outside of Virginia or Chicago, and it was still fairly warm outside. As you propped the door open for the others, you didn't think you'd ever get used to this kind of luxury. You had warm weather and the love of your life.
Soon Javy, Mickey and Reuben arrived with three identical smiles as they looked at you and gave you lingering hugs. "Okay, yep, that's enough," you said as Mickey squeezed you extra tight.
"Hey, Baby! Sugar!" Bradley was calling from the kitchen as you followed the guys in. "Oh, there you are. Do we have any solo cups and ping pong balls? And didn't I buy a case of PBR?"
You just looked at him like he'd lost it. It was New Year's Eve, and you were in your new dress. You even made sure he actually looked nice tonight instead of wearing one of his ratty old tee shirts. You had champagne, and he made crab dip and mini quiches to serve everyone. 
"Maybe in the hall closet? And I'm pretty sure I talked you out of the case of Pabst Blue Ribbon," you said with a frown. "That's cheap fraternity beer, Bradley. We have actual incomes now. Only good beers all the time."
"That's okay," he told you with a quick kiss as he headed for the hall closet. "We can just play with the champagne!"
"What?" you asked, ready to follow him, but the guys had turned up the music. When you looked in the dining room Nat was moving your punch bowl to the floor in the corner, and Reuben was carrying four glasses precariously stacked up in each hand. "What's going on?"
"Rooster said he's a beer pong master," Javy said, before shoving three mini quiches into his mouth at one time. 
Reuben was laughing. "He said he used to party at his fraternity house, but we don't believe him. Not Rooster."
"No," Mickey added. "Rooster always follows the rules. Never breaks them. And he never gets drunk."
"We're playing fucking pong," Bradley said when he returned wearing a backwards cap and holding red solo cups and a pack of ping pong balls. Everyone cheered. "They don't believe I'm a ringer, Sugar," he whispered just to you. "I'm about to fucking smoke their asses."
"Don't get too drunk," you said as Nat took the solo cups and squatted down to fill them using the punch you made with extremely expensive champagne. "Oh god."
"Happy New Year," drawled a voice behind you, and you spun to see Jake holding two more bottles of champagne. His gaze dipped quickly down to your cleavage before returning innocently to your face. He shook his head and said, "You know, sometimes I think Bradshaw might be onto something here."
"I'm never wearing this dress again," you muttered as he handed you both bottles with a huge grin on his face. 
"Now where's everyone else?"
Just then, loud cheering erupted from the dining room, and you walked through the doorway to find Bradley and Javy playing against Bob and Mickey. Nat changed your playlist to one that sounded like it belonged at an actual frat party, and Reuben was scooping one of your crystal glasses into the crab dip and eating it with a spoon. 
"What the fuck?" you gasped. It was like you were back at the Beta Gamma house ten years ago as Bradley took his nice shirt off and tossed it onto the doorknob of the door that said MARRY.
"I'm about to kick your ass, and the dining room table isn't even regulation size," Bradley told Mickey as the WSO missed a shot. "Sugar, we need to look for a table that's regulation dimensions, okay Baby?" he shouted over P.I.M.P. by 50 Cent. He just kept sinking shot after shot into the cups, and Bob was already looking drunk.
So maybe they all really did almost get kicked out of that restaurant before? 
Jake was unbuttoning his shirt as well now as he said, "I have next game. There's no way Bradshaw can get this lucky all night long."
Bradley smirked and laughed as he looked at you. "I can, and I do, Hangman. Don't act like you haven't seen Sugar before."
Jake laughed, and the other guys cheered. You cradled your forehead in your hands as Bradley wolf whistled at you. "Jesus," you muttered, trying to decide if it was a good idea for you to get drunk yourself or if you needed to babysit the whole group.
"Why isn't your wife playing with you?" Nat shouted, and you contemplated closing the front door before your neighbors complained about the noise.
"We're not married yet!" you replied, but Bradley had his arms wrapped around you immediately. 
"Sorry, Baby. I got excited and just grabbed Javy. You know what they say about old habits, and I haven't played beer bong in years. You're my partner next, okay? Your boobs will help distract the opponents."
You gave in and started laughing, because this whole thing was ridiculous. You let Reuben serve you some crab dip in a crystal glass, and you ate it while everyone around you got progressively drunker on your champagne punch. 
Once Bradley and Javy handily won the matchup, he kicked Javy to the other side of the table to team up with Jake who was now completely shirtless. "You're up, Baby," Bradley said, reaching for you with so much excitement. "We're going to kick ass like we used to." His lips tasted faintly of champagne when he kissed you, and you were surprised. He was so good at this game, he rarely had to drink anything. 
"Winning team goes first," Jake said, rolling the balls across the table to you as Nat set freshly filled cups in front of you. Bradley arranged the cups perfectly like this was actually his profession instead of aviation. And you just stood there and laughed as he stepped behind you and helped you square your hips.
"Okay, now, you need to be awesome, Sugar. Just like college. Because I've got like street cred on the line here."
"I got you, Beer Boy," you promised him and he moaned softly in your ear.
"Remember, it's all just a math problem, and you're so fucking good at math." He released you with a little pat on your butt, and then he was peeling his sweaty undershirt off and tossing it aside before fixing his hat. As soon as you were able to stop laughing, you tossed the first ball with a perfect arc, and everyone in the room watched it splash into the solo cup right in front of Jake while Bradley whooped. 
"What did they teach you people in Virginia?" Jake asked, looking at you like he was thoroughly impressed. And then you watched Bradley toss his ball into one of the cups, and Javy groaned as he and Jake picked up their cups and drank. 
"Roll those balls back over here, boys. We made both of our shots, so we go again," Bradley said before he kissed you hard in front of his friends. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to marry you in that Denny's parking lot tomorrow?"
You were laughing as Nat, Reuben, Mickey and Bob all lined up on your side of the table to cheer you on with the crab dip. "Kick their asses! Jake and Javy are good at everything!" Nat shouted over Big Pimpin' by JAY-Z. You did a little dance and then tossed your ball directly into another cup.
"It's just math!" you said with a smile.
"It's math!" Bradley reiterated to Javy and Jake. "And I feel bad for the two of you, because she's a mathematician." Then he made his second toss, too. "And I lived in a fraternity house for three years."
Jake and Javy looked miserable as you chanted, "Chug, chug, chug!" until they emptied their cups. Then you made another absolutely beautiful throw, and Bradley didn't let you down. In fact, the two of you made every single cup, and Javy and Jake didn't even get a chance to throw a single ball.
"House rules! You drink our cups, too!" Bradley informed them, gesturing to the untouched solo cups lined up at your end of the table. 
"Get to it boys," you said as the others cheered. 
Bradley was all over you again as Javy coughed and sputtered as he tried to chug champagne. "I swear to god, Sugar, if we weren't already engaged, I'd propose right now," Bradley told you as you adjusted the cap on his head and ran your fingers through his curls that stuck out from beneath it. 
"I'd say yes again," you whispered just for him. "Who's ready to get their asses kicked next?" you asked everyone. 
You and Bradley cleaned up so handily, the two of you were barely buzzed, but everyone else was hammered by midnight. The front door was still wide open, and the TV was on as you waited for the countdown to the new year. Bradley popped a bottle of champagne just for you and he to sip as Nat sat on the floor right in front of the TV with the punch bowl on her lap. Most of the guys were lined up on the couches, but Jake came right over to you when he stumbled out of the bathroom. 
"I need to know how you did it," he slurred to Bradley as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pointed at your chest. "How did you manage to get Dr. Tits here? She's exquisite."
You sputtered as you laughed. "Did you just call me Dr. Tits?"
Jake leaned in close to your ear and laughed. "I'm sorry, but I can't even remember my own name right now, darlin'."
"Okay, Hangman," Bradley said as he handed you the bottle of champagne and pulled Jake off of you. "Clearly she has a thing for fuckboys. You can look, because she's smoking hot and it would be impossible not to, but you don't get to touch."
Well, you couldn't deny that. Jake winked at you as he sat down next to Nat before laying on the floor. Bob had the hiccups, Javy was asleep, Reuben was still eating the crab dip, and Mickey was running to the bathroom to throw up as the clock struck midnight. "I love you," Bradley promised before he kissed you sweetly. "And I think we should spend the day tomorrow laying on the couch and talking about getting married. What do you say, Dr. Tits?"
You pressed your lips together and then said, "Only Jake is allowed to call me that," as you erupted into laughter at the scandalized look on Bradley's face.
You kissed his cheek as he said, "I swear, just for that, it's Denny's or nothing, Sugar."
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," you replied laughing as you looked at the sloppy mess of Bradley's coworkers on all of your living room surfaces. "Now help me get all of them in Ubers so you can help me out of my dress."
"Oh, hell yes," he replied as he started clapping loudly. "Wake up guys. Rides are coming. Time for you to go so I can get lucky."
The two of you herded everyone outside and into the two cars when they showed up. "Night, Dr. Tits," Jake announced loudly to your entire quiet street as he kissed your cheek before Bradley shoved him into the waiting SUV. 
"Dr. Tits..." Reuben said with a laugh. "Sounds like a superhero who is very good at beer pong."
"She is a superhero. She puts up with Rooster's shit," Nat said as she climbed in behind Jake. 
"I think my sister went to Comic Con as Dr. Tits one year," Mickey said deliriously as Bradley helped him with his seatbelt. "The many adventures of Dr. Tits. She's my favorite Avenger."
Javy was already asleep on Bob as the cars pulled away, and Bradley scooped you up on the driveway and carried you back toward the porch. "You wanna go on an adventure with me, Sugar?"
You took his hat off and put it on your own head. "Are you talking about undressing me or marrying me right now?"
"Both," he replied easily as he kicked the front door closed behind you.
"Then yes."
---------------------------
Beer Boy and Sugar warm my cold, dead heart. Fuckboy Jake, drunk on champagne, also warms my heart. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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perlukafarinn · 1 year
Text
Okay so I have a few experts I need to share from the story "Surprise!" by Nichelle Nichols, published in The New Voyages II in 1978.
It's about the crew throwing Kirk a surprise party, and Spock running around trying to keep Kirk from finding out (at Uhura's request), and it is bonkers. Kirk and Spock flirt so much, both with each other and also with Uhura (get it, girl!). Let's just get into it...
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Talking about birthday spankings on the second page of the story. Nichelle is not messing around.
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Then a couple of pages later, Kirk is teasingly asking Spock to tuck him in and Spock actually teases him back and then Kirk has to back down because he's not sure Spock wouldn't follow through.
Afterwards, Spock is all "phew, resisted that temptation" and talking about how his Vulcan decorum is "none too secure" when it comes to Kirk and this was published in 1978.
And then.... oh boy, I have to include this entire page and a half. I have to!
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(Scott's eyes "did not even widen" what fresh gay hell is this)
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I do not wanna know what mental gymnastics Spock performed to go from "must distract Kirk" to picking him up and carrying him around but I'm sure it was all very logical.
(Also, "Kirk whispered silkenly"? Nichelle actually writes Kirk as not only very flirty in this story but kind of seductive in an almost demure sort of way. I'm very into it)
Then later, Uhura is in Spock's cabin for plot related reasons, while Kirk is in the shared bathroom showering. And then for whatever reason
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Kirk enters Spock's cabin in nothing but a towel, still dripping wet from his shower. Is this a common occurrence????
Next is my favorite bit (aside from Spock's completely necessary and flawlessly logical decision to pick Kirk up and carry him around like his newlywed bride, of course)
Kirk and Spock are in Spock's cabin and Kirk thinks he hears something in the next room. It's Uhura and co, but since Kirk isn't supposed to know about the surprise party juuust yet, Spock goes full gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss on his ass
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Spock knows exactly which buttons to push to most effectively distract Kirk. Kirk's actually blushing and I am going insane
(1978!!!)
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That is a direct reference to Amok Time. Nichelle Nichols, you beautiful genius.
But we're not quite done!
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I just. I can't get over how obvious this is. Kirk is blushing and bashfully looking at Spock over the rim of his glass and flirting like there's no tomorrow. Insane. Insane!
In short, thank you, Nichelle Nichols for your service and thank you @1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt for bringing this story to my attention.
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starrshaddow · 4 months
Text
part 2 of that university mizu i wrote
So you have her hoodie right?
Its so big on you btw (reaches your thighs) but it's also very comfy.
You're on your way home, on the bus. She waved at you goodbye from outside the window. Of course you waved back. Without her hoodie, she's just wearing a plain tee shirt.
It's not even cold in the bus.
Hell, its not even that cold outside too.
So u cant help but smile at her caring gesture.
Your hand goes up to your lips to suppress the big smile on your face.
then you realize her hoodie smells like her too.
Now her perfume is stuck on you too.
You could still smell her perfume even after you've taken off her hoodie
___
You texted her that you'll return it tomorrow. You both have your respective classes. she has morning class while you have afternoon classes.
Lmk if your class is done, im waiting outside ur building :))
That was your mesage an hour ago. She didnt respond.
You constantly looked at the time and checked her schedule, double thinking whether or not this is her actual building.
Ding!
I'm omw
it wasnt too long until she walked out of the building with her bag slung over her shoulder. You smile.
Then you notice there was someone else with her.
Whoever he was, he was creating years amount of stress on mizu's face
"Why'd you keep telling me to go away? Not like i'm going to scare her off! Or maybe you're scared. You scared she'd ditch you for me once she sees me? What? You scared?"
"shut up." mizu said through gritted teeth
Then her serious and annoyed expression quickly shifted to a more softer and gentler when she sees you.
Her brow relaxes and she stops walking fast, trying to escape her chatterbox of a 'friend'.
You smile at her and you wave.
You look at the man beside her a polite smile and an acknowledging nod.
You walk to Mizu to give her a paperbag
"thanks"
She looked confused as she peaked inside the paperbag
"its- uh, your hoodie," you point yourself, "the one you let me borrow? Remember? Yesterday?"
She huffed a laugh at your stammering
"i was hoping you're not going to return it."
Huh?
She gave you back the paperbag
"keep it."
You look at it in uncertainty, you glance at the man beside her who also seems kinda surprised, then to mizu who looks at you encouragingly.
Take it.
Is what she seems to say.
So you did, but unable to look her for long in the eye from being flustered.
"Thanks?" you laughed. "Do you want to have breakfast?"
"It's eleven."
You rolled your eyes
"then brunch."
Then you remembered her friend,
"oh,- uh, he can come with if he wants to! What's your name, by the way?"
"Taigen!-" "Absolutely not."
Taigen looked at Mizu like she just told him to go to hell. (she kind of did, in her mizu way)
even you were taken back by her cold COLD COLD voice.
"he's busy." mizu said with finality.
Taigen frowned
"What's with you? Can't i atleast meet your new friend? Its not everyday you get a new friend! Dude, come on!"
Mizu turns to him with a sharp glare behind her glasses.
Taigen huffs and walks away.
"Whatever. Fucking rude." then he smiles at you, a very good smile that probably has the intent in looking handsome. "My names Taigen by the way, if you ever get done with Mizu's bitchiness my number is-"
Mizu just pushed him away by his face and went to you, grabbed you by the hand and speed walked out of there (it was hard to keep up, she walks fast).
"he's something."
"something to get rid of, more of." she responded quickly, it made you laugh.
That was when you started asking her if she have other people in the uni she's close with. She said yes and told you about akemi and ringo.... and taigen.
"out of all of them, i like being with you the most."
GIRL COME ON
SHE'S SUPER INTO YOU BUT YOU DONT WANT TO JUMP INTO CONCLUSIONS
THIS UNI READER AND MIZU IS MAKING ME PULL OUT MY HAIR
Mizu: i am literally in love with you
Reader: oh haha i love my friends too
___
Mizu started introducing you to her friends one by one after that. She wasnt surprised to see you and ringo get along since you both share a very calm and kind vibe.
Akemi, you were a bit hesitant at first. I think you felt somewhat insecure? She just looks so pretty, and...
"Oh, this is (Y/n)? It's nice to finally meet you!"
But when she spoke to you and you start talking to her, she's a very interesting person. She's kind, have that fierceness in her, but honest and polite. She's cool, and you got along well with her.
Then there's taigen.
You didnt hate him, but he does get overwhelming at times. He does say funny comments.
You thought him and mizu's interaction was the best it can be but man, is seeing him, mizu, and akemi banter is the best.
It's like a sitcom. Insults thrown here and there which usually ends with taigen with his ego or face bruised.
___
the most memorable thing you two had was during a party
Its so full of people, like touching shoulders at how many there were and you were both just there to pop in and say hi to akemi, wish her a happy birthday. Stay a few hours and leave to hang out somewhere.
You two love doing that. going in a very extroverted place just to say you went only to leave early to do whatever introverted stuff you two want to do (like stop by the grocery because you needed to restock, or stop by the park on mizu's way home because there are cats there)
anyways, so there were so many people right?? And they were havng fun, its loud, they're dancing. and you're starting to feel bothered by them. You and mizu are holding hands to get through the people. You both want to go home but you still have to find akemi.
She stops to make sure you're close behind her, and just as you were about to catch up to her, the crows moves like a tidal wave you end up being caught in it like a fish caught in the currents.
You get shoved so hard that you let go of mizu's hand and end up stumbling forward.
Youre pressed up to someone
and youre too embarassed and too scared to look.
Then you smell their perfume
Mizu.
Your heart thumps.
And you stopped breathing when she shifts, so your head is tucked under her jaw. Her hand finding its way around your waist
it was like she was shielding you away from the people, a crowd that you hate so much.
She's warm. super warm
Or maybe its just you and your lesbian disaster tendencies?
The fact that your height difference was even made more obvious in this situation wasnt helping
Then the crowd shifts and finally there's space again.
And even when there was space, she didnt pull away.
So you did.
You pulled away because you didnt want to make her uncomfortable, not knowing she cherished every single second of it.
That was the first time you two even made physical contact. Like straight up somewhat intimate physical contact that goes more than hand holding and arm touches.
None of you mentioned it on the way home.
But you were both thinking about it.
(i bet mizu felt giddy over it but her face remained stoic lmao)
___
i think mizu thinks you dont like her back the same way she likes you. (come on, she might as well marry you at this point)
So i think what she did was she wanted to enjoy your presence and convesations and decided she'll tell you when she can see that you feel the same way. if you still dont reciprocate her feelings then she'll definitely court you (in a non obvious way) until you do
___
when she came over to your apartment it was when you definitely trust her lotsa to be there.
You guys watched movies in a projector. Overtime it made mizu sleepy and she drifted off.
You were so invested in the movie you just noticed it when you heard her low soft breathing. (she's quiet during the movie, she made little comments and remarks like "why would she go there? Is she stupid?")
SHES SO CUTE WHEN SHES ASLEEP OKAY
She looks so unguarded.
So you took your phone and snapped a pic. You even replaced her contacts picture to it.
Her hair was down today (rare times). You think it looks great on her too.
when she woke up, she was super embarassed and apologetic
"no, its fine! Dont worry about it." then you showed her her picture. "you look really cute by the way."
Mizu didnt know how to react??? But she did march towards you to grab your phone but you easily held it away and dodged her.
She gave up
so she stood there and looked you directly in the eyes. Face half amused and adoring
"you're such a fucking brat."
Then she left and went back to your couch. Her long hair swaying behind her.
i'd be lying if i said that statement lived rent free in your mind
That was the first time you heard her curse
___
if she went in your home, you did too in her dorm. it was during a school break. Her roommate was away visiting her family.
Turns out she lived closer to the uni than you. It's just a few minutes walk away.
it made you feel warm knowing she had to walk maybe ten minutes? just to wait for the bus with you, and walk another ten to go back here again.
She never mentioned it too
Mizu's a real clean freak kind of person, she wants everything to be organized. But you also learned she cant cook. She even burned a pasta, how do you burn a pasta?!
"i didnt know i had to boil water first."
"well what did you do first?"
She was silent then she turned away from you
"...i placed the pasta in a pan with oil."
You dont know what to say anymore
I think youre the one to teach her (other than ringo) how to cook.
Also when you both were cutting vegetables, mizu held her knife wrong so you'll correct her and teach her how.
"here, let me show you."
You held her and positioned the knife properly on her hand. While you explained and taught her how to easily slice a cabbage, you missed how she cheekily smiled.
We all know how great mizu is with a knife.
She just wanted a reason to hold your hand.
"ringo, i dont think i'll be going to your cooking lessons next week."
"what? why? Is my teaching skills not good?" ringo asked worriedly
"no, you're great, ringo. I just..." she smiled, "want to learn from someone else."
___
I think the gang had enough of you two pining each other like a bunch of idiots, so they all had the plan of getting you both drunk after exams under the excuse of 'celebrating'.
But it didnt work
Because you were incredibly responsible and drink slowly (two hours have passed and you're still drinking from the same glass)
While mizu didnt drink at all (she knows what they're doing and she doesnt like it because she wants you or her to confess during the right time and place while being sober. hell no is she going to drunkleny confess to you at the sidewalk).
The gang (mostly taigen) tried to force either of you to drink but it didnt work.
Akemi nudged taigen from under the table. And that was their cue to go to Plan B.
Plan B? Taigen starts hitting on you (was supposed to be inconspicuously but he's bad at being inconspicuous)
compliments you, jokes that made you laugh, and jabs of insults to mizu.
anyways, i think mizu got annoyed and went up to go to the bathroom.
You notice and excuse yourself from the group. You go after her.
She was cleaning her glasses with the end of her shirt when you got there.
You see the slight furrow in her brow and the tightness on her jaw.
You smile comfortingly at her.
"Wanna ditch this place with me?"
"You can stay. You look like you're enjoying yourself, anyways."
She doesn't return your smile like she usually do. She wasn't joking.
your smile falters and you slowly approach her.
"What do you mean? Of course i am, they're our friends."
I think mizu's upset because she's starting to think you really dont like her at all. Or maybe you just don't like a 'her' in general. You don't giggle the same way as you did to taigen, nor do your eyes shine when he compliments you.
She wants to leave and think.
Mizu sighs and turns to you
"i'm going. Tell them that for me."
"what?" you grab her hand when she walks past you. "Mizu, what- where are you doing? What's wrong?"
Should she say it?
Say how much she likes you that it's absolutely breaking seeing you not realize it?
She wanted to scoff.
Hell no. She's not going to admit just because fucking Taigen started hitting on you.
Then she looks at you, and just like that all her frustrations and annoyance washes away.
You looked genuinely upset and worried for her.
Your eyes are sad, and you're looking up to her like she just told you she's leaving forever.
Oh
She sees it now.
That all this time you have been looking at her differently, but she wasn't able to see it because she sees you all the time.
You look at her with so much longing and care that it made her feel weak.
So she holds your hand that's gripping her wrist and offers you a gentle smile.
"I'm going to tell them we're going. How's that?"
There it is.
Your heartfelt smile.
"Okay."
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