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#and it seems like I barely drew anything else!
caroll-in · 1 year
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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And I saw sparks —
1.2k Words,, Lucifer x reader
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a/n — So this was actually a request at some point but it was literally lost to the tumblr void. I cannot find it for the life of me but it had to do with brushing Lucifer’s feathers so here we are.
summary — Date night for the reader and Lucifer quickly turns into a bonding session where the reader grooms Lucifer’s unkept and touch starved wings.
warnings — Fluff, gn reader, obnoxious flirting, getting together (officially), Lucifer being touch starved and sad.
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Lucifer groaned as he tried uselessly to comb the feathers on his far back. He didn’t know if he had enough time to finish pruning when he started, and now, barely a third done, he was sure he didn’t. 
His third date with you was in ten minutes. In ten minutes you would show up at his door and expect a fully prepared, well put together, king of hell to sweep you off your feet.
How could he do that when he couldn’t even brush his own damn feathers? What are you going to think when you see him? Maybe, he thought, you’d simply scoff and leave him totally alone with poorly groomed wings.
How pathetic would that be? He grumbled to himself, dreading the last few moments he had to prepare. What was it now, six minutes? If he’s lucky, eight.
Lucifer was so wrapped up in these pessimistic thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind him as he scrambled and whined over his knotted feathers.
“Lucifer, you okay over there?” You asked from the door way. 
He jumped back, brush getting caught up in the fluff of his wings and yanking two feathers out, making him let out a yelp and fall over. 
“Jesus christ, Luci—“ you laugh going over to help him up.
A blush spread across his cheeks. “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon,” he explained brushing himself off, “Wait how did you—“
“You left the door open and I heard very loud groaning so—“ You gesture to him, “—I thought i’d figure out where it was coming from. Oh, and you being demon royalty and all, I don’t think you should just leave your door open like that.”
He could tell you were joking and he was overjoyed that your attention hadn’t fallen to his exposed wings yet, so he played along.
“Actually, i’d argue that’s the very reason I can leave the door open,” he puffed his chest in his attempt to gloat his power.
This backfired when your gaze drifted to his roughly unkept feathers. Embarrased, he drew back.
“Uh, I was just finishing brushing them. They’ll be going away now, bye bye feathers,” he awkwardly laughed and rambled as he turned around him to hide his wings. 
“Wait, if you’re trying to groom them then,” your hands hovered over the wings before retrieving the brush from the table, “I can help with that. I had a friend way back when who—“
“Nononono,” he chirped, scooting back slightly, “I’m supposed to be taking you out and— and I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Lucifer, it’s seriously no trouble. Shit, if anything it’s fun. Let me see,” you gently sit him down and take a seat on the floor behind him. 
Your hands find his feathers and begin combing through the unkept bits Lucifer couldn’t reach himself.
He tried with all of his might to stop his wings from flapping about. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel incredibly soothing having someone else care for his sensitive wings. 
“Oh god,” he sighs, letting his head fall back slightly as you work your way through his feathers. He collected himself seconds later, not wanting to seem weird, “Sorry, it’s just been a while since anyone’s…”
He trailed off so you took pity and finished the sentence for him, “No, it’s okay. It’s cute how flustered you get over shit like this, anyways.”
Your teasing smile makes his shoulders tighten and his head snap back in your direction, “I am not flustered,” he corrected, cheeks reddening, “maybe just discombobulated.”
“Uh huh,” you grin, “Of course, your highness. Are you too good for a little flirting, now?”
“Oh, Lucifer Morningstar is never not ready for a little flirting,” he smirked, trying to hold himself together under your gentle touch.
“Oh yeah? Hit me with your best line.”
“I—“ He struggled, “Uhm. Okay, well maybe I’m a little rusty.”
You rake your fingers through his feathers once more, softening them to the touch, “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that the king of hell had game.”
“I do ‘have game,’ excuse you,” he did air quotes with his hands, “You just put me on the spot. It doesn’t help what you’re doing with my wings, either.” 
His snobbish royalty tone was alarmingly present and he had his arms crossed as he pouted.
It’s true, usually, Lucifer was quite the flirt. If there’s one thing he knew about himself is that he was a hit with the ladies, in his experience, at least.
But maybe it’s because you’re the first person he’s been on a date with since Lilith. Or maybe it’s the way you’re softly raking your fingers through his knotted feathers. Either way, it was making his brain feel fuzzy.
“I’ll believe when I see it, Luci,” you laugh to yourself.
“Oh, i’ll get you good when I catch you off guard, believe me.” Lucifer bragged.
After a moment, the laughter died down as you focused on your work. Every now and then you drew long content sighs from Lucifer. 
Although you seemed happy enough with the silence, Lucifer squirmed uneasily. He felt guilt build up in his stomach.
“So this is some date, huh? Curtesy of the King of Hell, you’re welcome,” he said glumly, picking at a scratch in his marble floor, “Sorry I couldn’t have made this more enjoyable.”
You caught him off guard with a deep, warm-hearted laugh. The kind that made him else feel like he’s  missed a totally obvious joke or reference.
“What’s so funny?” Lucifer asked, clearly perplexed by your response.
“Luci, we’re in literal hell. Compared to everyone else in shit-hole, you’re one of the better people I’ve dated.” You smiled, freshening up a few feathers, “There, done. Good as new.”
Lucifer grabbed a mirror from off the table and examined your work before realizing what was just said.
“Dating?” his spirits rise, hands coming up to his chest before turning to you, “Are we dating?”
The surprise on your face makes him smile cockily. “Catch you off guard, with that one?” he brags.
“In your dreams,” you recover quickly, “And, yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?” You look at his expectant face, he grinned brightly.
“Well, you heard it yourself, pretty boy. It seems like we’re dating now,” you laugh and caress his cheek with your thumb.
Completely dumbly, he giggles and leans in your touch.
“Wow,” he simply says. He rests against your hand for a while longer before you pull him in for a kiss.
It’s gentle and sweet while it lasts, and when you break apart, you pepper kisses on his cheeks and nose.
“Stop it, stop!” he laughs as you come to another finish on his lips. “So, uh, do you still want me to take you out?”
“Actually, where’s your tv in this place? Let’s watch a movie, instead.”
And so you do, cuddled up on the couch together with Lucifer’s newly groomed wings draped over you both. 
He nuzzled into your chest, desperate for human contact after being alone for so long. And oh, he was especially glad he was getting it from you.
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a/n — Was listening to sparks by coldplay ON REPEAT while writing this, so that’s why the title is like that <3
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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months
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No Regrets ~ HJS [MATURE WARNING]
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CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE
WORD COUNT: 3.9K
GENRE: Mafia AU, fluffy, first meeting, meet cute, fluffy jisung, soft mafia jisung being soft for reader, always there to protect her, bank heist and shes injured in the process, SMUT MINORS DNI, protected sex, sex in front of the fireplace, oral (female recieving)
PAIRING: Jisung x Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of blood, killing, stealing, heists, reader being held at gun point,
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Lightening slashed through the darkened sky making you jump a little and scoot closer to Jisung, the rain pounding against the windows of a cafe. Somewhere that had become your refuge from the storm that was growing worse by the second. Jisung glanced over at you, ever since you'd walked into the cafe he'd barely been able to take his eyes off you but he'd been trying. Not once was he able to though, it was like there was some kind of curse drawing him to you.
Years had passed since he'd ever been with a woman and he'd practically sworn off everyone he met, not wanting to get distracted by them but there was just something about you, something so warm and fresh that drew him in.
"Are you sure you don't need anything else?" Jisung questioned, his gaze solely on you as you shivered a little, you felt frozen to your core but Jisung's men had already given you a shirt, a pair of pants and a blazer you didn't want to take anything else from them. That was, you didn't want to be in debt to the man beside you.
All of the stories you'd heard about the man from the underworld but they'd all failed to mention how kind his eyes were or just how sweet he was...toward you at least. It was a strange contrast between what people said he was like and what he was really like, something you hadn't really been expecting until now.
"No...T-Thanks." Your chattering teeth gave you away before Jisung snapped his fingers at his men, who swiftly sprung into action. Moments later, a steaming cup of hot chocolate was in front of you and a dry blanket was wrapped around your shoulders.
"I can start the fireplace if it gets too much," Jisung offered, his chest tightening as he watched you closely, eyeing you up as if he were waiting for you to shiver and give him the chance to jump in and be the hero of your story. Not that Jisung was the hero in anybody's story, he was always the villain. 
There was something about you that made him feel at ease, something that made him feel at peace as you sat beside him but there was also a nagging feeling inside of him, one that wanted him to protect you. It happened the second you'd barged into the cafe, shivering and dripping wet onto the floor. It was the reason he'd demanded his men into action before they could kick you out, there was no way he was going to send you out in the freezing weather.
"I hate the storms too," He finally mentioned, whispering so that none of his men around could hear the admission come from his lips. He'd never been one to tell people what scared him, not when it could possibly be used against him but you seemed in need of someone to talk to.
"You do?" Your voice cracked a little as you swallowed the lump in your throat, the tightness in your body loosening ever so slightly as Jisung put you at ease.
"Yeah, ever since I was a little boy they always scared me." He holds his cup in his hands, letting the warm ceramic warm up his cold hands. 
"I would never have expected you to be scared of anything." You admit shyly before he beams at you, he liked that you were feeling comfortable around him more than he cared to admit.
"There's a lot you might not know, but I'd be happy to fill you in." Your cheeks warmed at the kindness coming from him and you nodded.
The storm raged on outside but the cafe was suddenly becoming a warm sanctuary amidst the darkness. It was an unlikely friendship growing between you both, a mafia underworld leader and a frightened girl who'd stumbled into the cafe by accident.
"My favourite colour is pink but if anyone ever asks it's black," Jisung smirked at you, making you giggle a little as you sipped on your drink. 
"Mine's blue, but the colour of the sky on a really nice summer's day is blue." You admit to him, smiling while you forget the storm completely as you get to know Jisung just that little bit more. 
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The night had flown by too quickly for either of you and you hated as you saw the sun coming up through the windows. 
"We stayed up all night?" You laughed nervously, trying to remember the last time you'd ever stayed up this late and it must have been years ago. The light burnt your eyes as you and Jisung stepped out onto the streets, you were still dressed in his guard's clothes and he couldn't help the jealous twinge he got thinking about it.
"Must have," He chuckles softly looking around for a car for you but there was none in sight except for his own.
"Vinny," He whispered in a low voice to one of his men nearby.
"Make sure she gets home safely." Vinny nodded understanding the unspoken order from his boss,
"Don't worry boss, I got this," Vinny told him as he got into one of the waiting cars and Jisung turned his attention to you. Searching in his pockets and handing you a small piece of paper with his number scrawled on it.
"In case you need anything. Don't hesitate to call." You gently took the piece of paper, staring down at it with a mix of surprise and gratitude flickering across your face. You never would have expected his number after a night of just talking,
"Thanks." You whispered before carefully tucking into your pocket and making your way to the car with Vinny inside.
"I'll be seeing you," Jisung called out, watching you with one last lingering gaze before you disappeared into the city and Jisung couldn't shake the weight of concern sitting on his chest.
He knew the dangers that lurked in the streets, especially to someone as unsuspecting as you. He was glad Vinny was going to drive you home but something still weighed down on him as he thought about you more and more being alone and he would do anything to ensure your safety. Maybe he could hire someone to watch over you all of the time, or would that be going too far?
"Boss, we have a meeting with Dante Moretti in an hour." A voice informed him snapping him from his daydream and he sighed nodding his head, there was no rest for the wicked. 
"Can you make sure Vinny stays close to Yn, I want updates on how she's doing." He grumbled as he got into his car, ensuring your safety felt as though he was protecting a piece of his own humanity in the chaos of the world and he was going to do as much as he could to keep you safe.
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Someone had been following you and you knew who, he wasn't as sneaky as he thought he was since he was almost 7 feet high and built like he could knock down a brick house with one flick of his wrist. Sighing a little you turned on your heel making Vinny almost crash into you from how abruptly you'd stopped in place.
"Vinny, I'm fine." You told him plainly, staring up at the man who looked as though he'd barely slept a wink in days. Ever since your rendezvous with Jisung a week ago, Vinny had been outside of your apartment and everywhere you went. Part of you thought it was sweet that Jisung had asked him to watch over you but after no contact with Jisung, it was beginning to get annoying.
Maybe he did this to everyone he met and the reason Vinnny was watching you was because Jisung wasn't sure you could be trusted but you'd had enough. You wanted some space and Vinny following you everywhere was drawing attention to you that you didn't need nor want.
"Boss said to watch you." You scoffed a little, if Jisung was that bothered about you being looked after he should have come to check on you himself rather than sending a babysitting,
"Your boss can come and watch me himself, I don't need an armed guard." You gestured to the gun that was on his belt and he glanced at it, it was something all of Jisung's men were issued with.
"But-"
"Go and take a break, I'm going to the bank...okay? Nothing bad is going to happen to me in there. Go get food or something." You pointed to the cafe across the street and he bit down on his lip, disobeying a direct order from Jisung meant he'd probably lose his life.
"I have to go, I have a meeting and if I'm late I'll never get the loan I need." You mumbled, straightening out your outfit and walking in the direction of the large building while Vinny looked at you. He knew you were right and he needed a break and what was five minutes going to do if he went to grab a muffin?
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The glass shattered around you as loud popping sounds began to ring out, you ducked a little as you flinched. The man you had been speaking to you dropped to the floor instantly and frowned,
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!" Someone screamed out, your eyes darted in the direction of the voice and your heart began to race. Armed robbers were storming into the bank, their faces covered by clown masks and you cursed yourself for sending Vinny away. 
"Everyone be calm and do as we say and no one has to die." The main man called out as he turned to a man reaching for his wife only to shoot him in the head. Panic gripped you as you sank down onto the floor, none of the masked men had been able to see you since you'd been toward the back of the bank. With trembling fingers you began to hit Jisung's number, you'd had him saved ever since your night together and he was the only person you could think of helping you right now. 
As you continued the rings Jisung answered and your voice barely came out above a whisper,
"Jisung, please...you have to do something." You held your hand over your mouth trying to calm yourself down, if any of them found you, you'd be dead.
"There are robbers...they're holding us hostage." You whispered frantically. Jisung's blood ran cold as he listened to the desperation in your voice. Without hesitating he sprang into action, issuing orders to his men and racing to the scene.
"I'll be right there baby, just stay hidden," He kept you on the phone as he raced to his car, he needed to make sure you were safe.
"Where's Vinny baby, is he with you?" Your breathing was frantic but you tried your best to focus on Jisung rather than the yelling and shouting that was going on.
"I sent him away, to eat...I-I thought I would be okay," You sniffled a little and Jisung wanted to reach through the phone and comfort you, wipe away the tears he knew that were streaming down your face.
"I'll kick his ass for listening to you," He chuckled trying to make you laugh but your breathing stilled as you heard someone coming toward you. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you held your breath trying to hide further under the table,
"Found you, sweetheart." Someone sneered, his voice dripping with malice as he dragged you out from your hiding spot his grip so tight you knew it was going to leave a bruise. 
"Yn?! YN?!" Jisung screamed down the phone, forcing his men to drive faster down the streets toward the bank you were in.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt the cold metal of the gun pressed against your temple, you were shoved through the bank toward the front once again.
"Lookey what we have! An example to make of." He smirked as you struggled against his grip, your heart pounding with every beat as you thought about a way to get out of this or a way to drag it out.
"What did we say? Stay calm and no one will get hurt, it seems someone can't listen to rules." The metal of the gun was dragged down your cheek until he placed it underneath your chin, the tears free-falling as you whimpered a little. 
Suddenly, amidst the chaos of the other men shuffling money into banks, the sound of sirens pierced through the air, signalling that police were outside. The grip the man had on you faltered for a second, his attention on the threat of the police. Mustering up all your strength and with the surge of adrenaline, you twisted free from his grasp, ducking out of his grasp and making a run for the safety of a desk. The man cursed as he scrambled after you, just as he got close a shadow emerged from nowhere and stared down at him.
"Jisung." You breathed out as he stared down at the man who had grabbed you, his moments were swift as he subdued the robber and put him to the floor aiming a gun at him this time.
"Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?" Jisung stared over at you, your breath catching in your throat as you watched him closely and you shook your head.
"I'm fine, just scared." You admitted as he nodded, turning his attention back to the other robbers who were all on their knees with their hands behind their heads. Everyone knew not to fuck with Jisung if they knew what was good for them and Jisung waited for the cops to come in. 
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"How are you doing?" Jisung asked as he sat beside you in front of the fireplace, after the robbery Jisung had taken you back to his place deciding that he didn't want you to be alone tonight.
"Fine, just like I was fine the other twenty-two times you asked," You said, teasing him a little for how often he'd been asking you the same question since getting there.
"I just want to make sure," He sighed, wrapping the blanket around your shoulder more and smiling at you. Your heart began to beat faster as you were cuddled so close to him.
"You're the first person I wanted to call when it happened." You admit, after the events of the day you weren't going to hold back telling him how you felt about him since there was no point, you never knew what could happen.
"Why?" He blushed a little as you watched him closely,
"I like you...a lot, and I wanted to hear from you one last time in case...In case I died-"
"I would never let anything happen to you," He whispered, clutching your hand in his and holding it on his lap.
"No?" You giggled a little as he ran his hand over your cheek and gently rubbed his thumb over your skin,
"No. I should kick Vinny's ass for leaving you." He grumbled, he'd wanted to do it after getting you from the bank but you'd begged him to take you home, not wanting to stay there any longer than you had to.
"I told him to." You reminded him but Jisung scoffed at the thought, the only person Vinny should have been listening to was Jisung and Jisung alone.
"He should only take orders from me." He grumbled a little and you inched closer to him, 
"You're cute when you're mad." Your voice came out low and seductive as you gently kissed his jawline.
"Y-Yeah?" He stuttered a little as he felt you closer to him, his heart racing as you began to kiss his jaw again.
"Yeah, and hot when you're being the hero for me." You added before kissing his neck a little, his whole body flaming as his cheeks burnt bright red.
"Yn...Y-You went through something traumatic today, we should probably wait,"
"Why?" You stopped still and looked up at him, his eyes staring down at you, he wanted to, more than anything, but he didn't want to rush you into something.
"I don't want you to do something you'll regret." You smiled warmly at him,
"I promise I won't," You whispered before kissing him softly, his arms wrapping around your waist as the blanket you were wearing dropped from your shoulders. 
Jisung carefully laid you down on the floor, kissing down your neck as he pulled the shirt you were wearing off your body.
"I've wanted you for so long," He groans, kissing down your bare chest and sucking on your nipples causing your back to arch off the floor.
"So don't waste any more time," You pleaded with him as he smirked, kissing down your chest until he reached your panty line which he quickly tore off you and threw somewhere in the room.
"I don't let anyone order me around but for you, I'll make an exception." He groans before putting your legs on his shoulders before pushing his face into your cunt. His tongue slowly licked through your folds as you let out a strangled moan of his name.
"J-Jisung," You cry out, your hands pushed into his hair and you ground your hips against his face needing more than what he was giving to you. Jisung didn't miss the hint though as he picked up the pace, eating you out like a man starved as he moaned against your clit sending vibrations up and down your spine.
"F-Fuck! R-Right there," You cry out as he continued to suck on your clit, his fingers pushing into you and sending you closer to the edge. Jisung smirked up at you, your eyes were screwed shut and your head rolled back as you gave into him.
"G-Gonna..Fuck I'm so close," You cried out louder, Jisung curled his fingers to your g-spot, moving his fingers at a brutal pace until you screamed his name out as your first orgasm hits you. 
"So loud for me, I love it." He groans as you pull him up and kiss him deeply, not caring if you could taste yourself on his lips but just desperate for him.
"Want you," You grumbled as you quickly stripped him of the suit pants he was wearing and rubbed his cock through his boxers earning a grunt from him.
"I've got an IUD," You whisper to him when you see him searching around for something and he relaxes a little, kissing you deeply as you lay back down on the floor, your legs spread on either side of his hips.
"You sure?"
"Jisung, please," You whined out, spreading your legs further apart as Jisung lined himself up, easing into you at a slow and torturous pace.
"M-More," You begged as you rocked your hips up a little until he was pushed to the hilt, a strangled moan leaving both your throats. Jisung smirked at you as he slowly pulled out of you, only to slam back into you as you let out a scream of his name. He began thrusting into you, harder and faster than before as your hands dragged down his back. 
"You're so tight, angel, you close?" He groans out as you clench around him again, moaning out his name as he continues his brutal pace. You'd had sex plenty of times but nothing compared to this, Jisung had you on the edge from just a few thrusts.
"You make me insane for you," He growls out as he continues to fuck into you,
"G-Good, you do the same for me," You whine out, rolling your hips in time to meet his thrust as you feel the familiar tension building inside of you.
"S-Shit, Jisung." You moan out as he grips your hips, his thrusts getting more determined,
"C-Cum for me angel," He groans, as if on his command you came around him, screaming his name out as you rocked your hips riding out your orgasm. Jisung wasn't far behind as he panted into your neck, his hips slowly to a still making you giggle a little.
"Let's go and get cleaned up," He whimpered a little, his hips shaking as you nodded and wriggled beneath him.
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The morning sun filtered through the blinds in Jisung's room and he cursed himself for not getting blackout ones like he wanted to. The memories of last night began to filter through his mind leaving him smirking as reached out beside him. He frowned, a pang of unease gripping his chest as he stared at the empty space beside him. Had you regretted the night before?
With a heavy sigh, Jisung rose from the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. Your clothes were still in his room along with your bag and phone which meant you were still around somewhere he just had to find you. He padded down the stairs, an overwhelming sense of gratitude filling him when he saw you standing in the kitchen with your hands on your hips yelling at someone.
"I wanted to cook for him, what's the big deal!?" You cried out at the old lady who had swatted your hands away with a spatula when she found you cooking.
"He only lets me cook for him, it's the safest way." You rolled your eyes, about to tell her who you were when someone wrapped their arms around you.
"Come back to bed, let Sophia make our food so I can fuck your brains out," He whispered in your ear, biting down on your ear as you let out a small moan following him without question.
"So no regrets?" He asked, threading his fingers between yours as he led you back to the stairs.
"No regrets," You smirked kissing him on the cheek and rushing off up the stairs to his room again.
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"I hate you," Felix's date said as he stood beside her, her arms folded across her chest as she stared at him looking completely pissed off that she had to be there.
"I hate you more, my little firecracker," He smirked down at her and you cuddled closer to Jisung as you watched the exchange.
"It's strange that's how they express their love," You giggled a little as Jisung took your hand in his, gently kissing the top of it before pulling you into his chest.
"Hmm, think we should uninvite them from the wedding?" Jisung smirked as you slapped his chest softly, hushing him. A charity event wasn't the place to announce your upcoming wedding, you wanted to do it properly and at a dinner with all of them together.
"We'll see you later," Seungmin's date whispered before hugging you and running off toward the stairs with Seungmin.
"They're going to fuck," Jisung laughed softly making you roll your eyes at him.
"They could just be wanting a private moment," You elbowed him in the chest as he chuckled to himself he knew what the couple were up to, since he and you had snuck off at parties to do the same thing plenty of times in the past.
"To fuck." He added as you groaned at him, pulling him to go and dance with you.
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lovemouche · 3 months
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lovesick all over my bed ౨ৎ
satoru x fem reader
18+ / mdni
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It was never meant to end up like this.
Satoru had stated the boundary of no strings attached prior to entangling himself with you — metaphorically and, quite literally too. The relationship was meant to start and end with physicality only. That was the one rule he made sure to implement for himself. That was where he drew the line. 
"Y-yes. right there. Please."
And yet, these days, he's been finding himself caught in the cavern of a predicament, worn down to the point where he can't think of much, besides tangled limbs and open mouthed kisses, hot and wet as he'd breathe heavily against your form. Worn down to the point where he can't think of anything else besides you. 
Even now, as you lay underneath him, needy and bare, shaped like a deity, challenging the outline of divinity, he's still thinking of you. Always.
And it's driving him crazy, consuming every waking thought of his. Because he just doesn't know how it all led up to this. Satoru can't fathom how an inkling of affection he dismissed as nothing more than a momentary impulse burgeoned into something more profound. Into something so alarming. Into—
No. 
No. No. No.
No. He doesn't want to name the emotion just yet. He can't. Labelling it just solidifies his fear into truth, and the prospect that the feeling blossoming inside his chest aligns with what he’d dreaded feeling the most crosses every boundary he had set for himself. 
Love, the most twisted curse of all. 
"Ah, Satoru—"
The call of his name drags him out of his reverie. It's whispered softly against his skin, flushed as he clings to you desperately, secure enough to hold you in place, but never too much to hurt you. 
"Yeah?" he asks tentatively, his movements being put to a pause. After loosening his grip around your body, he shifts the bend of legs on the mattress to keep his weight from overwhelming you. "You okay, princess?" 
His hand travels from the curve of your waist to trace the outline of your jaw, carefully and, much too lovingly for someone who's only meant to use you for emotional release. "Does anything hurt?" he asks, thumbing the apple of your cheek with gentle strokes, noticing how you shiver under the touch. 
You shake your head, but it's not enough to convince him otherwise; the lack of a verbal response only has his mind flooding with concern even more, especially because you've never stopped him mid-sex. Not once in the entire seven months of your arrangement. 
"Talk to me," he encourages. 
Instinctively, you lay your hand on top of the one toying with your cheek, your fingertips lightly rubbing at his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down. Satoru feels his chest constrict. It's not a big gesture, he knows. But it feels so intimate—so sweet. 
Anyone would assume he would've gotten used to it by now, but even with familiarity and time, everything you do only seems to make his heart race even more. 
He's grateful the dim lights don't manage to catch the flush beginning to spread throughout his features, but he's certain you can feel the way his cock hardens inside you, even if you don't comment on it—which he's also grateful for.
God, he's hopeless. 
The control you have over him is dangerous, he realizes. Part of him wants to pull away before any damage can be done. But the other, bigger part welcomes the peril with open arms. 
"It's just..." you trail off, letting out a sigh of frustration as you try to find the right words. 
"Should I pull out?" 
"No," you huff, tone authoritative. Out of reflex, your legs tighten around him, thighs caging his waist to keep him in place—because you definitely don't want him to pull out. Not with how good he's filling you up right now. "Just... shut up for now." 
Satoru acquiesces to your request. Despite his reservations, he nods, albeit a bit reluctantly, and makes a testament to his obedience by pretending to zip his mouth up with pinched fingers. 
"You just... seem a little out of it nowadays, like you're distracted. So I wanted to know if you were okay."
You take a brief pause. Satoru waits with bated breath. 
"We're friends too, you know? You can talk to me about these things. It doesn't always have to be sex," you add softly, probing gently to gauge the situation while making sure to leave enough room for him to make the decision to open up. Because really, he doesn't owe you any explanation. 
He doesn't owe you anything at all.
Satoru feels his heart swell, pressing up against his sternum, too big for his chest—everything he feels for you is too much for him to carry. 
I know, he thinks bitterly to himself. That's the problem. I don't want to be your friend anymore. 
But he doesn't want to lose you either, and he knows that if he let the dam break, if he let loose every emotion he's been struggling to keep at bay, he'd only ruin everything. 
He'd lose you. And he'd lose himself in the process.
So Satoru parries your question with ease, because honesty isn't his forte—both towards you and himself. 
"Nothing's wrong," he insists, raising an arm to pin your hand up against the bedsheet, intertwining your fingers with his. "Don't worry." 
Resting his forehead on top of your sweat kissed one, he resumes his movements languidly. "Just...just focus on how good I'm making you feel, o—oh—okay?" 
He trips on his words at the sensation of being sucked in and out of your sweet cunt, and he prays—god, he prays—that the feeling of being inside you is enough to compensate for not having you entirely, even if just for a moment. 
But it's not enough, and Satoru can't help but feel that it never will be. 
He slides in and out of you, his desire heavy. And you moan in response, chest rising from the laboured breaths that follow each sinful thrust, hips gyrating automatically to match his pace. 
And it feels good. It feels so fucking good. But the pleasure isn't enough to cloud his senses and dispel his anxiety. Because he's looking at you and his heart is already tugging at its seams. And Satoru feels helpless. 
And he's not sure what it is—if it's the high that ensues being wrapped around your tight walls, or the way you fit so perfectly against him, as if you were made to be held by him, as if he was made just to hold you—but something about tonight has him desperate for more than just late night messages that lead to loveless fucking. 
Something about tonight has him desperate for all of you. Mind and body, heart and soul. 
The notion is heady, and the revelation steals his breath. It roots itself inside his chest and demands his attention, aching to be acknowledged. 
He's so caught up in his head, so lost in thought that he doesn't even register the fact that his movements have been put to a halt and his cock has stilled inside you. Not until you press a shaky palm to his chest in worry.
"Hey," you breathe out. "What's wrong?"
Satoru has to bite his tongue to refrain from telling you that: everything is. There are so many things he wants to tell you, but he's scared it'll poison every next moment. He's scared he'll lose you in the only way he knows he can have you. 
Everything is wrong, he wants to say.
Instead, he stays quiet. 
There an ugly feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach. He wants, so badly, to say something—anything. But he can't. The only reaction he can offer you is the widening of eyes, and his mouth parting in shock before his lips purse into a disappointed frown.
Being in... fuck he'll name it. Being in love shouldn't indemnify him from acting like an idiot, but love has a way of blurring all reason, all rationality. 
He waits for you to speak again, unwilling to break the silence himself—too afraid of what might follow, too afraid that you've already seen right through him.
And he feels pathetic, of course, for being reduced to such a scattered mess, because he's supposed to be the strongest. And for the most part, he is. He really is. But when it comes to you, he can't seem to live up to that title. When it comes to you, he can't seem to be anything else but yours. 
The yearning—to mean something more to you, to be everything to you—settles in his bones. It's draining his soul. He's standing on the edge of a cliff, left to teeter somewhere in between unbridled emotion and self restraint. It's a precarious position to be placed in, and he's hanging by a mere thread. 
Seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity. The air feels like it's heavy with impending demise, and the silence engulfs him like black tar. It's suffocating, to say the least. Satoru isn't sure if he wants to prolong the moment or get it over with. He feels his heart pound against his chest—that treacherous thing.
So when you finally say something, he breaks.
"Satoru, what's wrong?" 
He falls apart. 
"I'm sorry," he chokes out, voice timid and exceptionally apologetic, head hanging low in refusal to meet your eyes. The sight of him is pitiful; you can't, for the life of you, understand why.
It's strange seeing Satoru in such a vulnerable state. Not because you don't assume he doesn't have his own baggage to carry, but because you never thought he'd be willing to expose this side of himself to you.
It's everything out of the ordinary, like witnessing god crumble at your feet, or having an executioner beg to be pardoned for all his killings.
"I'm sorry," he repeats. Only this time, it feels more resigned, like he's admitting defeat. It almost feels like he's apologising to you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
But how could that be? and why would it ever be?
"What? Sat—ah."
Satoru falls slack on top of you, pressing the weight of his body against yours. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, chin moving to rest on your shoulder as he evades your gaze. You feel his hands travel south as he continues whispering a mantra of apologies into your skin.
It's a vain endeavour, trying to lift yourself up to get him to talk to you properly. The grip on your hip keeps you anchored, leaving you no room for anything other than compliance; it's as if he's scared you'll leave if he lets go even for a second.
And honestly, he is. 
"Satoru. Don't be like this please."
"I'm sorry," is all he says. 
"Satoru, look at—"
"No."
"Look at me." 
"I'm an idiot."
"No," you interject. "You are not."
"But I am." It's muffled, his voice. A Little shaky too. "I know I'm an idiot, so don't," he pleads. "Don't look at me. I don't want you to see me right now. I can't." 
"You need to tell me what's wrong."
"You're going to hate me. I'm going to ruin everything."
"How?" 
"I'm sorry."
"Satoru."
"I'm sorry," he repeats, his grip on you tightening, fingernails digging soft crescents into your skin. "I'm sorry; I got too greedy." 
Your eyebrows pinch. 
Satoru can practically feel your confusion, and he wants to die, because you don't get it. You just don't get it. Not at all. Not one bit. Not until he whispers five words that knock all the air out of your lungs:
I love you. I'm sorry.
There's a pregnant pause, hesitant, unsure. And then:
"Wha—what? No. You—you're lying." 
Satoru shakes his head in disagreement, vehemently refusing your claim. 
Lying? How could he ever lie about such a thing? He could feign indifference at most, try to brush past it and let the feeling linger until it subsides. But he can't, and it hasn't, and he's tired of pretending that he doesn't love you anymore. Because he does. He loves you too much to push those feelings away. 
"It's true," he admits. "I—I tried not to... you know? I tried not to—fuck, I'm sorry." 
The confession should have lifted the burden, or at the very least, eased it. But his lips struggle to form words, and his heart ricochets against his ribcage. 
"Look at me," you implore.
"No."
He's certain you must hate him now. That by tomorrow, or tonight even, he'll leave the place—the person—he's associated with home as nothing more than a stranger. 
Even worse, a mistake. 
"Please?" 
But your arms crawl to wrap around his torso, and your legs squeeze around his own in silent reassurance, like you're trying to convey to him that you're not going anywhere. And if that isn't enough to convince him to listen, Satoru doesn't know what is. 
When he finally raises his head, your eyes linger on the contours of his face, studying his crestfallen expression. He's anguished, that's for sure. You just can't wrap your head around the fact that it's probably you who's causing his misery. 
Because Satoru is... well, Satoru—he's the strongest.
So who are you to be able to wreck him this much?
"Do you..." you swallow, still unconvinced, words quieting down to a whisper. "Do you really love me?" 
Without looking at you, Satoru nods. it's not enough of an answer, though. 
"Tell me, please." 
He lets out a slow, shuddering exhale, chest stuttering on his next breath. He's silent for a few seconds, thinking. Until finally, with a slight crack to his voice, he says. "I do." very tremulously. "I love you." 
Which is painful to admit, because he doesn't even know what to do now that it's been said. Satoru's not sure how he can give you something he's never been shown. He's not even sure if he deserves it, or if you'll even want his affection. 
But there's so much of it, so much love growing in his chest that he fears it'll crack his ribs. So he's willing to try, even if it might ruin him in the process, 
He's willing to do anything, so long as it's for you. 
It's as simple as that, really. 
"You're lying. I—you can't be serious."
Well, maybe not really.
"I am." Satoru nods pathetically, like a wounded puppy, like his heart is in tatters because you can't believe him even after he's laid himself so embarrassingly bare like this. "I love you." 
"But you said—"
"I know," Satoru interrupts, and his lips are bowed. "I know. I'm a hypocrite. I got too selfish. But I can't help it anymore, I'm sorry. I love you too much to push these feelings away." 
Satoru feels every muscle in your body go stiff at the admission. You're rendered speechless, once again; hesitant in your words, even more so in your actions. And he feels like he's made a grave mistake, that right then and there, he's ruined everything—he's lost you.
But then the right corner of your mouth quirks, hinting at the faintest of smiles, and an obtrusive feeling of hope sparks within him, fizzling out his nerves like cheap soda. 
"Why would you be sorry?" you scold, flicking his forehead. "The only thing you should be sorry about is worrying me. Do you know how scared I was seeing you go MIA while you were still inside me?"
"I'm still inside," he reminds you. 
You groan. "this is not the time." 
"I know." He frowns, but the tension from earlier is nowhere to be found, and Satoru feels even more at ease now that you've begun playing with his hair, twirling the strands between your fingers. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to say." 
"You don't need to say anything else."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"You aren't upset or anything?"
"Why would I be?"
"I don't know." He lowers his head to rest on top of your chest, all watery and emotional, pressing his cheek just above where your heart lies to find solace in the rhythmic pitter patter of beats. "I just expected you'd be mad or... disappointed, you know?" 
"Well I'm not, so don't worry about anything, okay?"
"Okay," he hums.
You don't say anything after that. Neither does he. It's quiet for a while, and you take the time to think while basking in the afterglow of such a raw moment. 
It's all still so surreal. 
You feel like the universe is playing a prank on you, like Satoru's orchestrating a sick, cruel joke to mess with your system. But you're cradling his head in your hand, lovingly tracing arbitrary shapes on his scalp, and you swear you can hear how fast his heart is racing. 
It's in tandem with yours.
And perhaps, that's all that matters. 
Maybe you were an idiot not to have realised it sooner. Maybe you were just in denial too. But it's as clear as day now, and you really can't deny the fact that it has always felt like you and Satoru were made for each other. Because when you take his hand into yours, and it feels like the spaces between your fingers were shaped just to hold him like this, you're certain that it's always been more than just sex. 
"Satoru?"
"Yeah?"
"Me too."
He gives you a quizzical look. You smile.
"I love you too."
480 notes · View notes
withahappyrefrain · 10 months
Note
I wish you would write a fic where... College!Tasm!Peter gets reaallyyy jealous at Reader talking to her ex bf and fucks her on his bed until she’s a bumbling mess 🫣
I think it's time for blonde!Peter to come back
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It was stupid. Absolutely ridiculous.
You were barely engaged in the conversation, more focused on the condensation forming on your red solo cup than what your ex had to say.
The interaction shouldn't have bothered him. You were his. Hell, you were even wearing his snapback.
And yet, his blood still boiled at the sight. His hands still balled up into fists. Wade joked that he could steam coming out of Peter's ears.
The dickbag was trying to flirt. Key word was try.
It was awkward as hell, clearly trying to evoke the 'oh remember how much fun we had, minus the part where I ghosted you and refused to eat you out because I'm a little bitch?' card. Every step he took towards you, you'd take a step away. With your arms crossed and the way your eyes focused on anything other than him, it should have been obvious you weren't interested.
And yet, the fucker still had the audacity to put his hand on your shoulder and squeeze it.
Peter didn't have to wait for you to send him the look. He was over there immediately, arm wrapped around your waist.
"She's busy," was all Peter curtly said, before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.
Despite your shrieks, you didn't mind it.
Nor did you mind when he brought you to his bedroom.
You especially didn't mind when he had you on your back, knees pressed to your chest as he thrust into you.
"You look so good underneath me babe," He grunted, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he watched your body wither from his touch.
"Y-yeah," his touch was overwhelming, your body reeling from your previous orgasms.
Peter simply smirked, his fingers trailing down to right above where your bodies connected.
Jolts of pleasure sparked throughout your body as his long fingers drew circles on your clit. The band in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter with each thrust. His teeth sink into your exposed collarbone, eliciting a gasp from your lips.
Only he got to see you like this, back arched with your head thrown back in pleasure. Only he got to make you feel like this, causing your cunt to clench and spasm in pleasure around his cock.
No one else.
"You gonna come again baby? Let me hear it. Let them all hear how much you love my cock."
Normally his dirty words would fluster you. Your cheeks still burn, but this time they're intensifying the ache between your legs, fueling your need to be consumed by him and only him.
What could best be described as a broken wail fell from your lips. In reality, it was doubtful that those in the hallway could hear you over the blaring music. But the idea that maybe they could hear you, could hear the bed frame slam against the wall, could hear the grunts Peter was letting out as you fell apart around his cock, fueled a deeper desire in you two.
Your hands weakly grabbed his bleached hair, making a feeble attempt to tug on the thick locks.
"Don't worry baby, not done with ya. Fuck no," Peter's chuckle was dry, his body trying to hold on, trying to stall off his own release, "You're gonna come again. Whatcha think about that? Ya wanna fall apart on my cock again?"
A whine fell from your lips. Sensitivity surged through your body, mixing with the euphoric pleasure.
"I......I, Peter I-" what were you even asking for?
"Aw, is my baby already fucked dumb from my cock? You're so smart, until my cock is inside ya. Can't focus on anything else can ya?"
"Peter....want...." Normally you were so good at multitasking. But with the way his cock was thrusting in and out of your soaked entrance, the idea of being able to focus on anything other than the sensation between your legs seemed next to impossible.
"C'mon baby," His breath is hot against your ear, "Use ya words."
A feeble moan fell from your lips as you shook your head. It was too much, but somehow also not enough.
What did you want? The words were on the tip of your tongue, tricking you into thinking you could express them, only to run away as soon as Peter's cock brushed against that one spot that made you see stars behind your eyelids.
"C'mon, use your words," His speed increases, his hands now grabbing the flesh of your hips as he drives into you, "What. Do. You. Want?"
Each word is emphasized with a pointed thrust. His honeyed eyes are overtaken with lust, irises overblown by a pure black. The scent of cinnamon is overwhelming your nostrils as his stubbled jawline brushes against yours.
It's only when you feel his cock twitch inside of you that you find the words, now driven by a red hot burning need.
"Want your cum! Want your cum inside me, please, want it so bad, wanna be filled with you, want you to fill me up, please Peter!"
His thrusts slow down, which you think is done to tease. In reality, Peter knows if he doesn't, he'll come immediately. And he wants to draw this out as long as possible. Wants people to notice that you and him have been gone for quite some time.
Peter's imagining your stupid ex still lingering around. Dumbass was probably wondering how you two weren't done yet, given the man's notorious record for the quickest, saddest sex ever.
"Peter-"
"I got ya baby," he leaned down, hovering over your body as he pulled your thighs to his hips. He was now (somehow) deeper inside of you, hips rutting into yours.
"Gonna fill you up real good. Make you mine." You can only whine at his words, your body overstimulated from the immense pleasure.
His lips swallowed your moans. You didn't even need to look, you could feel that smirk radiating off of him. A deep groan fell from his lips when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.
Between the bass from the outside music vibrating the floor to the smell of cinnamon that always engulfed Peter, you felt completely at bliss, content for him to continue to use you until his own release.
With one final tug on his hair, Peter's hips stuttered before coming inside of you. What were once moans and wood slamming filling the room were now heavy pants as you both tried to catch your breath.
"That was...wow."
Peter lifted his head up, a boyish grin overtaking gus face, "Was? Who said we were done?"
"Peter....you already..." You froze upon realizing he was still hard. Still inside of you.
"Perks of a radioactive spider bite. I'm far from done with you babygirl."
You were in for a long night.
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jackactuallywrites · 2 months
Text
Purely Professional
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Medic Reader
Rating: Mature (nothing too explicit but dick is hinted at)
Warnings: Ghost has a boo boo 😔 (blood, facial injury - split cheek and bruising)
Summary: You are the only medic Ghost trusts to treat him. Also you guys are friends with benefits!
Notes: Yes I do always headcanon Ghost with a broken nose. It’s HOT. Also I’m cleaning out the drafts
Word Count: 1,712
ao3 link
“He’s here.”
You didn’t need to ask to know who the other medic was talking about, nodding thanks to the medic as she left, and you quickly finished up with the young woman you were patching up, “You can take ibuprofen as needed, no more than two pills at a time, and space out the dosage to every four hours.” You wrinkle your nose, “I mean, you know how to take ibuprofen, just basic over-the-counter stuff. But come back if there’s any problems.” She nods, “Thanks, Doc.” You weren’t sure how many times you’d specified the difference between a combat medic and a military doctor, but at this point, it wasn’t worth the air, so you just nodded, gesturing for her to take her leave, “Anytime.” She grabbed the pillbox and made her way out of the room, leaving you to clean up the empty wrappings, tossing them into the nearby bin. You tore off the paper that was covering the bed, binning it as well and then rolling out another cover, making sure everything was fresh and clean. When you were satisfied, you walked out of the room into the waiting room, your eyes immediately landing on the one man who didn’t need to be named.
Ghost.
The intensity of his gaze was intimidating, his dark eyes glowering from underneath the skull mask as though he wanted nothing more than to take down every single person who dared to breathe the same air as him. At this point, the other medics had learned that he wouldn’t accept their help, refusing to utter even a single word until you were free. You leaned against the frame of the door that led into the hallway, beckoning him with a jerk of your head. He rose from his seat, seeming to dwarf everyone else around him as he walked through the room toward you, brushing past you without a word and striding straight into the open examination room, the cold silence seeming to emanate off him like a tangible aura, visibly affecting those around him, the other medics shrinking away from him as he passed.
You followed him into the room, closing the door behind you, “So, what can I help you with today, Lieutenant?” He sat down on the bed in the room, resting one forearm on his thigh, gesturing with the other hand to his face, consistently a man of few words. You stepped closer to him, “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that.” He grunted, reaching up to take off his helmet, setting it on the bed beside him, and then unclipping the skull mask, revealing the balaclava underneath. Finally, he pulled off the balaclava, revealing his clipped blond hair, and then his face, bruised and bloody, his cheek split open, blood already dried to his skin. His eyes, thankfully untouched, the black paint surrounding them unmarred, were on you, boring into your face as he watched you.
You didn’t waste time, reaching out to probe his face, your fingers gently holding onto his chin as you turned his head from side to side, inspecting the damage. It looked worse than it was; facial injuries always bled more, and though he tensed when you gently pressed his cheek, there was no sign of anything broken. After taking a moment just to be sure, you drew back from him, walking to the medical cupboard and taking out an antiseptic wipe, talking as you did, “You won’t need stitches.” He grunted, and you took this as permission to begin wiping the blood away from his face.
“So,” you began, always one to make idle chitchat as you worked, “who did you piss off this time?” Ghost watched you, his face solemn, searching your eyes before he responded, his voice barely more than a whisper, “Couple guys.” You smiled as you brushed the wipe over his split skin, “You know if you want to see me, you only have to ask.”
All the tension in his face seemed to ease then, his eyes softening as he looked up at you, “I know.” You took this as permission, gently nudging his legs open so you could stand in between them, closing the distance between you, allowing him to reach out in his own time, and after a brief moment, he did, his hands reaching out to gently rest on your hips, his fingers hesitant, still unused to the intimacy you shared. You cleaned up the rest of the blood on his cheek, giving him time to get used to your close proximity as you brought out a small plaster to cover his wound. In a moment of impulsivity, you pressed a gentle kiss to his damaged cheek, your reward his sharp intake of breath and the tightening of his fingers on your hips, pulling you closer toward him.
“You know,” you began, letting your hands rest on his shoulders, “the other medics are going to think you’re sweet on me.” Ghost let his face rest in the crook of your neck, his voice low, muffled by your shoulder, “I’m not sweet.” You smiled, letting your fingers trace over from his shoulders to the back of his neck, “No? What would you call this?” “Desperate.”
There was no mistaking the longing in his voice, the yearning, the way his fingers pulled you closer to him until your body was pressed against his. Already, his fingers were pulling at your shirt, just like he’d done so many times before, secretive fumbles in whatever vehicle or armoury was nearest, all beginning with some injury he only allowed you to treat, all ending with you wrapped up in his arms. You smiled, shifting one hand to stop his fingers on their insistent path underneath your shirt, “I think they’ll notice if I spend forty minutes in here with you.” Ghost didn’t seem entirely put off by the idea, his face tilting up as his lips began to move over your neck, gently nipping at the skin, his voice husky, “You love this being our dirty little secret, don’t you?”
It was impossible for you to lie to him; after all, he was special forces; no doubt he could sniff out every last secret of yours if he truly wanted to. His hand was already moving from your hip up to your cheek, forcing you to look at him as he pulled away from your neck, his pale eyes searching yours, “Admit it.” Every part of you seemed desperate to touch and be touched by him, and you held back a groan, “Yes. Which is why we can’t do anything in here.” His lips quirked in a smirk, “We wouldn’t want them to think you give this treatment to everyone.” You smiled, “I am supposed to be a professional, after all.” His thumb reached out to brush your cheek, “Couldn’t we both use a little unprofessionalism right now?”
The idea was tempting. Too tempting. You could feel those eyes of his melting away your resolve, and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, biting the inside of your cheek, “What exactly did you have in mind?” There was a wicked look in his eyes, luring you into sin, to submit yourself to his will entirely, “What I have in mind would make too much of a mess and needs more time than we have.” You tilted your head to the side, curious, “So what do we do?” He was quiet for a moment, his eyes flicking over every single facet of your face, your eyes, your cheeks, your lips. He leaned into you, his nose bumping against yours, letting you feel that little ridge where it had been broken. His words were a murmur against your skin, softer than he ever seemed capable of, “I’ll be content with a kiss for now.”
It never seemed to make sense that a devil could be so sweet; you knew what he was capable of, you’d patched him up, you’d seen his medical records detailing what he’d been through, yet here he was, asking you for that simplest of intimacies. You obliged his simple request, leaning forward to press your lips against his, feeling the slight stubble on his skin prickle yours, his hand shifting from your cheek to the back of your neck, the one on your hip moving to the small of your back to pull you closer to him, encircling your body, his lips soft against yours, yet insistent, needy. He pulled away before you, leaning his forehead against yours, letting out a strained sigh, his hand moving from your back to his crotch, adjusting his trousers to disguise the growing bulge there. “The things you do to me.” His voice held some frustration, his fingers tightening on the back of your neck but loosening just as quickly, always in complete control of himself.
You could see the Lieutenant return, the way his back straightened, the grim determination returning to his lips. His hands fell away from your body, reaching for the balaclava and mask he’d put to the side, and you knew your time with him was coming to a close. You stepped back from him, tucking in your shirt, allowing him to resume that persona, covering his bruised face with the black balaclava and then finishing with clipping his skull mask back into place, his helmet finishing the transformation. All that remained of him were those soft eyes, out of place, surrounded by blackness. He reached up with one hand to tuck a loose hair back under your beret, his gloved fingers gently stroking against your cheek. “I’ll be seeing you.”
There was no doubt that he would find you to finish what you’d started here, but for now, he was back to business, standing up off the table and straightening out his uniform. You crossed the room to open the door for him, allowing the outside world view into your privacy, not that there was anything for them to see. He stalked past you without a word, yet as he passed, his hand reached out to gently squeeze your arse, sending tingles up your spine as he left you wanting, trying hard not to look like a lovesick dog as you watched him go.
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nataliasquote · 21 days
Text
Mustang | cowgirl nat au
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Summary: The mayor’s daughter. A bounty hunter. One has freedom, the other does not. But will one fleeting night be enough to convince Natasha to leave everything she’s ever known behind?
Warnings: Natasha is a hot cowgirl, cowboy slang
wc: 4.3k
note: this is for all the cowgirl Nat simps out there (yes you know who you are @katyaromanoffpetrova ). And also for @milfs69420 who drew the inspiration for cowgirl Nat in this scene (i’m obsessed with that drawing no joke). I hope this lives up to expectations!
-⧗-
A loud yell echoed across the grassy plain, rising above the sound of thundering hooves and the distant shriek of a stream train whistle. One lone rider, racing across fields she knew like the back of her hand. Strong thighs squeezed the flanks of the midnight horse beneath her as she raised her arms above her head and tilted her face up to the sky, letting the golden rays of the sun soak into her skin. Not once did her balance falter, years of riding making her feel like an extension of the steed beneath her. Her cheeks started to burn with how hard she was smiling, so she placed both hands back on the reins and kicked her horse to speed up.
There really was nothing that Natasha loved more than riding. It was her escape, her outlet, her way of breaking away from her usual daily duties. Was she out on her horse a bit too often? Her father would say yes. But if there was one thing Natasha Romanoff hated, it was being told what to do.
She’d caught up with the train rolling steadily along the tracks and Natasha leaned forwards, scarlet hair, tied in a single braid, flying behind her from under her hat as she raced beside it, trying to keep up. She could feel the muscles of her horse flexing with every stride they took and the rusted green walls of the carriage were almost in reach of her fingertips if she stretched out towards it. The smoke puffing out of the chimney tainted the air that she breathed in, but she barely noticed it through her euphoria. She knew where this train was headed, towards the larger cities, so she broke away and turned back to her hometown, slowing up as they trotted under the town’s welcome sign.
Most walked their horses through the streets on foot, but Natasha stayed seated, guiding her horse through the swarms of townspeople and down to the large house at the end of the main street. She hopped down and tied him to the fence temporarily, making sure he had enough hay and water before she strolled into the house.
Not even bothering to take her boots off, Natasha waltzed into the kitchen and flopped down on a chair. She tossed her hat onto the table and let out a sigh, staring at the small red symbol on the front of her hat.
“Natasha,” a gruff voice called after her. She rolled her eyes. “Where the hell were you?”
“Out,” was all she replied. She didn’t turn around but could feel her father’s eyes boring into the back of her skull. And his disapproving tone was nothing she wasn’t familiar with.
“You were supposed to be home two hours ago, for the opening ceremony.” Without looking at him, she knew how he was standing. Arms folded across his chest as he took up almost the entire doorway. “Yelena was upset you weren’t there.”
Natasha scoffed. “No she wasn’t, she couldn’t care less.”
“I felt betrayed, actually.” Great, now her sister had joined in. “You’re always choosing Liho over me, don’t you feel my pain?”
“I’m sure you’ll live,” Natasha deadpanned, wanting nothing more than some peace and quiet.
But that was a rarity as the mayor’s daughter. Her whole life was scrutinized, and many people disapproved of her non-traditional ways. “Is there anything else required of me? Or can I leave now?”
Yelena appeared in the corner of her vision, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Well, I was going to ask if you would come by the range, seeing as you-“
“Ok, so that’s a no.”
“Natasha, be nice to her please. It’s Yelena’s big day!” Alexei’s voice seemed to be in constant ‘public speaker’ mode, which was fine for pretty much everything except quiet conversations in the kitchen. He was too close, and Natasha scraped her chair back and reached for a glass to fill up from the pitcher of sweet tea on the table. Reluctantly, she offered one to Yelena, who accepted with a soft smile. Alexei took their ignorance of his statement to disappear back to his office, and Natasha breathed a small sigh of relief.
“I knew you liked me really.” Natasha deadpanned her comment but Yelena only stifled her giggle behind a sip, the sweet beverage coating her tastebuds deliciously. “I’m not mad, it’s fine. But promise me you’ll shoot this week?”
“I was planning to anyway,” Natasha admitted. “Do you have riding targets too?”
Yelena let out a ‘ha’ and leaned back in her chair, chin tilted towards the window. “What do you take me for, an amateur? That’s like asking if Barton sells beer.”
“Speaking of, fancy a drink?” Yelena gestured to her half full glass with an eyebrow raised. “I was going to go down to Barton’s if you want to join me?”
Yelena thought for a moment, watching a lone ice cube float around her glass. “I would, but I promised Kate I’d meet her at the stables and you know what she’s like if I cancel on her.”
“Suit yourself,” said Natasha. Ok, so maybe she did feel a little remorse over missing the ceremony, but never would she admit that out loud. “I’ll see you later. Oh, and tell Ma to not wait up for me at dinner. I’ll sort myself out.”
“Roger that,” Yelena gave a mock salute and Natasha just rolled her eyes in jest. She grabbed her hat, slipped it on her head and wandered back out of the door, but not before she slipped a few snacks for her horse. Liho was still waiting patiently for her and he swished his tail as he approached, rather fed up of just standing around in the sun.
As Natasha brushed him down and gave the stable a quick tidy, her mind wandered back to the open grassland. What she’d give to never return home, just riding to her heart's content and staying in whatever town she came across. Or just sleeping under the stars, listening to the howls of the coyotes and the thundering hooves of wild horses echoing behind the mountains on the horizon. She craved the freedom that the cowboys had and the small taste she could get would never suffice; she lusted for more.
With a small threat to Peter, the stablehand, to not hurt Liho, Natasha wandered back into the town centre, stopping off at the ammunition store on her way for a magazine refill. She shot the test targets to pieces purely for the fun of it, knowing her aim was impeccable. The owner just rolled his eyes but let her continue; this behaviour was expected. After all, Alexei was a well respected and slightly feared man, which rubbed off onto his daughters too. And Natasha’s fiery temperament was almost as famous as her father was. No one with any brains would ever challenge her to a duel if they wanted to keep their life.
The redhead’s eyes cast over the centre-most building, the brim of her hat concealing the sign on the front. But she didn’t need words to tell her what it was- she knew her second favourite place like the back of her hand. The heels of her boots clicked against the tiled floor as she pushed the wooden saloon doors to swing open, hitting the walls beside them with a crack.
With her hat still dipped low, she paused, surveying the entirety of the room in one fast sweep. Partially content with what she saw, Natasha tipped her hat from her head and tucked it under her arm, feeling strands from her messy braid to fall and frame her face. Green eyes darted across every familiar face, occasionally leading to the subtle tug of a smile to play on her lips if she felt particularly fond of someone, but not many had that blessing. She didn’t pay two minds to the rest of the townspeople once she’d locked on the one person who didn’t think she was completely crazy.
Wild yet utterly desirable, Natasha somehow held every single person captive within her presence. The general chattering subsided as she moved between the tables, even the men who spent their days airing their lungs over bottles of brandy and rum paused their drinking to take a good look at her. If Natasha even cared, she’d be repulsed, but noticing the way the men of the town looked at her had become a thing of the past. She would never settle down so why bother?
The red velvet-topped bar stools were smooth under her jeans as Natasha slid onto one, her hat coming to rest atop the wooden bar. She unbuttoned the cuffs of her green plaid shirt and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows, exposing her forearms with a sigh.
“Didn’t see you at Yelena’s gun range opening today,” the bartender commented as he slid an open bottle of beer in Natasha’s direction. He knew her well, and he should, as her childhood best friend. And Natasha may be unpredictable but her beer choices never wavered.
“Oh don’t tell me you were there too. I swear, if one more person asks me about that I’m going to put a bullet in someone’s head.” Her hand fell to her holster for effect, making the bartender step back, hands raised in surrender. Natasha rolled her eyes and smirked before taking a sip of her beer. “My Pa gave me an earful when I was barely through the door. I don’t see why it matters, Barton, it’s just an opening.”
Clint threw the tea towel he was holding into the sink over his shoulder. “I’m just talking, but she’s your sister, so isn’t it in your duties to go to that kind of thing?”
Natasha shot him an unimpressed look, her brow bone casting a shadow across her eyes in the dim light. “You mean that as her sister, or as the mayor’s daughter? I plan on using the range anyway, so why do I need to show my face now? It’s not even about me.” She puffed out her cheeks and rested her chin on the hand that was placed on the beer bottle rim. “If I was Lena, I’d be happy my sister didn’t show up. She can have the spotlight for a change.”
“Where did you go, exactly?” Clint was the only one who would listen to Natasha’s tales, so he just let her talk whilst he worked. Gave him something refreshing to think about instead of his unruly customers.
“I caught wind of a new group riding out by the Ridge yesterday, so I wanted to check it out. Saw nothing but Ol’ Joe moving his cattle. Swear that man digs for his cannon ev’ry chance he gets.”
“Well, he’s not the best with people,” said Clint, only realising afterwards that he’d just stated the obvious. “Is that what you want though? A group like that?”
Natasha pursed her lips. She hadn’t thought through the logistics of what her future looked like, she knew it involved a lot more open space and a lot less… people. “Not a group, I couldn’t handle that.”
“Nat, you know it’s not safe out there on your own. You need your home, a family.” Clint was family orientated to the core, but the same couldn’t be said for Natasha. “You know it’s even worse for women.”
“I can handle myself,” Natasha scoffed, feeling rather put out by his insinuation. “I don’t need a bunch of asshat guys telling me what to do!
“I know, but-“
“If I wanted an argument, I would have stayed at home,” she pointed out. Clint’s mouth opened before he closed it with a huff, thinking better than to protest again. Natasha’s hands tugged her hair out of her braid, reveling in the feeling of it falling loose around her shoulders.
She chewed on her lip, trying to suppress the anxious feeling bubbling low in her stomach. With each passing day, the small town life rattled her and the walls of the village seemed to close in. It had taken root in her chest since she was a child, that feeling of longing never quite subsiding.
Clint moved off to serve customers further down the bar, leaving the redhead lost in her own mind. Slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the glass bottle.
What did she want? Natasha knew how her dreams played out, but Clint was right; where was her stability? The thought of being alone was heavenly, but that was coming from someone who had never truly experienced it. She’d been surrounded by people since the day she was born, and those fleeting moments of freedom with just Liho for company were the best she’d felt.
But what did a future full of that entail? She’d idealised it to the point where she was biased, getting defensive whenever anyone tried to make her see sense. She may not see eye to eye with her father anymore, but the stubbornness she inherited from him was a clear determiner of her roots and more importantly, her home.
A cacophony of whistles erupted from the tables behind her, snapping her out of her spiral and Natasha turned on her stool to take a look at the source of the commotion. A woman stood in the doorway, dressed similarly to Natasha, which was rather uncommon in this town. Most of the women wore skirts, so seeing another in jeans that wasn’t Natasha, Yelena or Kate had heads turning.
Natasha watched the way the stranger’s hand instinctively flew to her holster as her eyes adjusted to the darkened room, a bitter contrast to the sun blazed street just outside. The saloon was always kept dark, just the way Natasha liked it, but it did look a bit intimidating from an outsider’s perspective.
Ignoring the outstretched hands of drunk men that grabbed at her from their seats at the closest tables, the woman picked her way through the crowd, her hips swaying in her jeans and brown fringed chaps as she rounded the final table and slumped down onto a stool. Natasha peered at Clint out of the corner of her eye and tried to hide her smile, taking a long sip of her beer bottle as the stranger sat four seats over.
“What’s the strongest stuff you’ve got?” The stranger asked Clint, her hat still sat squarely on her head. A strange move in Natasha’s eyes, but it added to the air of mystery around her and the redhead couldn’t help but watch her reflection in the glass opposite.
“I’ve got a couple bottles of whiskey if that’s what you’re after?”
“I’ll get a glass of that, thanks.”
Natasha pulled a face, impressed. “Going for the hard stuff, I see.”
The stranger didn’t turn her head, keeping her eyes down and focussed on her hands that rested atop the bar. “Something like that.”
There was something different about her, something refreshing. Natasha stood up, grabbed her beer bottle and wandered down the bar, now appearing on the seat beside the stranger. She leaned on the bar, one leg crossed over the other, accentuating the curve of her hips in her jeans. The stranger’s head moved slightly, trying to get the best view of Natasha that she could.
Clint read his friend’s body language like he was fluent, and quickly swapped her bottles so she was presented with a fresh drink. Natasha waited a couple of seconds before striking up conversation again, not put out by the stranger’s lack of enthusiasm.
“Is this seat taken?”
The stranger shook her head and scooted over, nursing her glass of whiskey with both hands. She was nervous and guarded and Natasha saw the twitch of her fingers that seemed uncontrollable.
“I’ve not seen you before. You not from around here?” Her southern drawl was laid on thick, emphasising the rasp in her voice that came out when she spoke properly. Natasha’s skill set didn’t stop at shooting. She was incredibly proficient at flirting and Clint loved to just stand back and watch her pick her next target that wandered into his bar.
The stranger finally turned to Natasha and lifted her hat from her head, revealing her face and piercing eyes that bore into Natasha’s. “Is it that obvious I’m not from around here?”
Natasha laughed around the rim of her bottle and readjusted her stance, using her movement as a way to take in the woman with a quick flick up and down. “I know my people,” she replied, gesturing to the full tables behind them. Her eyes fell to the stranger’s lips. “And I’d remember a face like yours, darlin’.”
The mysterious woman’s cheeks flushed red and she took a swig of whiskey, welcoming the burn that flooded her chest. The hot feeling racing through her body was purely alcohol induced… wasn’t it?
The brunette ducked her head down, embarrassed. “I’m only passing through. Had to stop off at the stables to get my horse’s hooves checked. Ran across a thorn patch, she did.”
“Well, Bishops’ will take good care of her. And in the meantime, does the gorgeous woman have a pretty name to match?”
Whiskey was by far the best choice she could have made- it could account for the now permanent flush that took residence in her cheeks. The woman turned on her stool and let her knees fall open loosely, her body language much less guarded.
“I’m Y/n. And you are..?”
“Natasha Romanoff, at your service.” The redhead quickly put her hat on and tipped it forwards, eliciting a laugh from the woman opposite. Clint eyed their interaction as he dried some glasses, grinning to himself at how effective Natasha’s charm truly was. She turned it on with the tip of her hat and a flash of her smile, making men and women alike stop dread in their tracks.
“You’re the mayor’s daughter?” Something flashed across Y/n’s eyes but it was gone as quickly as it came and Natasha couldn’t decipher it.
“Yeah,” she trailed off, frowning slightly. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Not at all,” Y/n gave her a smile, nodding to the stool beside her. Natasha sat far too quickly, like an obedient dog. One glance from a gorgeous woman had turned her to mush- what was happening?
A couple of loud thuds resonated from the back of the room and Natasha rolled her eyes, knowing exactly who sat there regularly. “Hey, Romanoff, give us a dance, will ya?” A leering voice echoed above the general hum of conversation and Y/n watched as Natasha rolled her eyes and adjusted her gun that sat in a holster on her hip.
“Give it up, Stark, you’re barking at a knot.” The man in question jeered at her and banged his beer bottle on the barrel table, several men around him doing the same. “If you wanna watch me dance, you better pay me for it.” This only gained her more nonsensical yelling and a man on Stark’s table threw a dollar bill in her direction.
But Natasha just stood up, squared her shoulders and fired her handgun in their direction, the bullet slamming into the wall mere inches above Stark’s head. She blew the smoke off her gun with a cocky smirk and shoved it back in the holster. The entire saloon fell silent, aside from Clint’s mutterings about yet another hole to fix thanks to his fiery friend.
Natasha waited a second longer, almost daring Stark and his guys to test her again. But they didn’t, now only watching her warily as she turned back to her new woman who was watching with a slack jaw. Natasha felt a burst of pride surge through her chest and she puffed it out slightly, sinking down into her seat with one foot up on the footrest, her legs manspreading.
“I’m sorry about that, that was no way to treat a new lady.”
Y/n snickered, shaking her head. “Oh please, I ain’t a lady. I’ve seen worse men than that in towns over, they really never change.”
Natasha’s gaze had drifted to the way the brunette’s hair fell over her shoulder, and how soft it looked despite being so exposed to the elements. But at the mention of different towns she snapped, eyes wide.
“You’ve visited other towns?” She tried to keep her cool, but there was truly no hiding her excitement. This woman had everything Natasha wanted and more.
“I’m a bounty hunter,” she admitted, watching Natasha’s face change. “But I ain’t got much work at the moment. There’s not many people that trust a woman to do what a man can do.”
“So you’re just… floating between towns?”
Y/n nodded, taking a sip of her whiskey. “Yup, it’s just me and my girl. And the occasional over-friendly landlord who tries to get up in my business.”
Natasha’s mind was racing like a mustang. She felt almost childish, wanting to hear stories of her travels and what the world was really like. Y/n could see her curiosity, it was too apparent to mask, and it was like a breath of fresh air. All too often she was met with disapproving glances and was often the butt of circulating gossip, housewives and prostitutes judging her uncommon way of life. But she was happy, and no one was about to take that away from her.
“Where are you from?”
Y/n’s smile faltered and she traced the rim of her now empty whisky glass. “I don’t think about that. Doesn’t matter where I’m from, I’m never going back. There’s nothing for me there. My life is out here now.”
“I wish,” Natasha muttered, more to herself than anyone else. Y/n heard it but didn’t comment. After all, they were just two strangers in a bar, nothing more.
“So, if you’re the mayor’s girl, you must know what there is to do around here.” Her words had an element of teasing to them, which didn’t go unnoticed by Natasha.
Natasha shook her head with a laugh. Ten minutes in and already poking fun at who she was. Why was that so attractive? “There’s a barn dance later if you want to come?” Natasha suggested. “That is, if you’re sticking around for that long.”
“I’ve got a compelling reason to now,” Y/n teased, toying with the hints Natasha had been sending her way.
Natasha quirked her brow and raised an arm behind her head, her bicep flexing slightly under her scrunched up shirt sleeves. “Well, I never turn down the chance to take a pretty girl to a dance.”
“Sounds like you have experience.”
Natasha narrowed her eyes in playful accusation “Is that a problem to you?”
“Not at all. I like a woman who knows what she’s doing.” Her words were heavy and even Clint raised his eyebrows, having been listening in to their conversation whilst he polished glasses.
“Then you’re in for a real treat, darlin’.” Natasha held eye contact and took a swig of her beer, licking her lip as a drop escaped. Y/n stared back at her and then coughed, using that as her excuse to look away. Anyone could feel the air shift and Clint walked away, shaking his head with a smile. God, Natasha certainly knew how to play this game.
“Where did you say you were staying?” Natasha continued, probing yet more information out of the poor woman.
“Here, actually,” Y/n answered, gesturing towards the door that led to the small assortment of lodgings that the saloon housed “ ‘S the only place willing to take someone like me.”
“Barton!” The man in question looked around guiltily. “Keeping things from me now, are we?”
“You were out! When was I gonna tell ya?”
Natasha grunted and jutted her chin out at him, furious that he’d watched their interaction knowing exactly who this woman was. And Y/n found the whole ordeal rather funny, having made the connection that they knew each other a little while ago.
“Well, if you’re stayin’ here, I know where to pick you up later.”
“Inviting me to a dance and picking me up? Do all foreign girls get this treatment from you?”
Natasha winked coyly, sliding her hat along the bar where she’d left it. “Only the special ones.”
“Oh you’re flannel-mouthed!” Y/n exclaimed, to which Natasha only shrugged cockily. “I’ll be waitin’. Right here, so don’t be late.”
“Roger that,” Natasha responded, mimicking Yelena from earlier. She stood up with a flourish, placed her hat on her head and took Y/n’s hand to place a kiss on the back of it, treating her like a proper lady. Clint wolf whistled her, receiving an insult thrown his way before Natasha had disappeared back through the doors she’d come through, leaving them swinging back and forth with the momentum.
“She’s a wild one, watch out.” Clint nodded after the redhead, silently laughing to himself at her dramatics. Always one for the exits, she was.
But Y/n didn’t even notice his amusement. She was gazing at the gunshot hole left in the wall across the room, and more specifically, thinking about the woman that put it there.
“The wilder the better, I always say,” was all she replied, her mind now miles away. Sure, she said that about horses, but Y/n was starting to think that applied to the women she surrounded herself with too.
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ddejavvu · 8 months
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can I request reader x James but they are meeting for the first time and reader is dating one of James’ asshole friends and James gets really jealous - I love your writing so much it’s genuinely always perfect
"'Drew? Can I have the marshmallows, please?" Your sweet voice rings out across the campfire, but apparently it doesn't induce the same butterflies in your boyfriend's stomach as it does in James's.
"Yeah. Don't eat 'em all." Andrew passes you the bag without even looking, tuning back into the conversation he'd been listening in on.
Your tongue pokes out of your mouth as James watches you skewer the marshmallow, sticking it into the fire and watching the flames slowly blacken the surface.
"You like it when it's burnt?" James asks, and you almost seem surprised that he's speaking to you. Most of his friends are engaged in other conversations, and it takes you a quick second to acclimate to being included in one of your own.
"Yeah, I do." You grin bashfully, "Andrew says it's gross, though. What about you?"
"I like them burnt," James agrees, even though it's a lie. He barely gets his marshmallow warm enough to melt it, but he's not about to oppose you.
"You want this one?" You offer, but he shakes his head with a kind smile.
"S'alright, love. You have it. You want the chocolate?"
"Yes, please." You nod, and James chucks a pebble at Andrew's shoulder across the fire.
"Mate, toss me the chocolate."
"Ow! You git," Andrew snickers, launching the chocolate over the flames and watching James catch it, "Nice save."
James hands two pieces over to you as you withdraw your charred marshmallow, helping you balance them atop the surface.
"Andrew? The graham crackers," You feel bad interrupting him yet again, especially when he lets out a sharp scoff.
"Alright! Jesus, how many fucking times are you gonna interrupt me?" He snaps, the cardboard of the graham cracker box warping as he holds it too tightly.
"As many times as it takes to build a s'more." James laughs incredulously, his brows furrowed. "S'not her fault you're hoarding the food over there. Don't be a dick, man."
"There." Andrew drawls, shoving the box in your direction, "That's it, right? You don't need anything else?"
"That's it." You grumble, "Thank you."
Andrew mumbles something under his breath as he turns away. It makes James's blood boil, and he's sure he'd be even more upset if he had heard whatever Andrew had said.
There's a tense silence over you and James as you smash your chocolate-covered marshmallow between two graham crackers. Andrew's still paying rapt attention to the conversation beside him, but the words have long since stopped registering in either of your heads, and you're thinking about how awful your boyfriend is in unison.
James watches as you swallow, the action thick as marshmallow blends with chocolate down your throat. Andrew's sitting beside the stash of water bottles you'd brought, and he watches you eye them, though you don't dare ask for one.
"Here," James grabs his own, holding the half-empty bottle out towards you, "You can have the rest of it, m'not thirsty."
You meet his eye and James is pleased to see a miniscule smile curving your lips upwards, even if it is overshadowed by the dismal reason he'd offered.
"Thanks," You hum, and that saccharine tone is back in your voice where it belongs.
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professional-yapper · 3 months
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Proximity pt. 3
Neteyam x Olangi! Reader
Warnings: awkwardness, more denial, pretending certain things didn't happen, Neteyam is STRESSED, reader is homesick and anxious af, Omaticaya girls hating on her cause they want Neteyam (who could blame them), Lo'ak is Lo'ak
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Neteyam didn't know what he'd done wrong. He'd been pacing the floor of the hut you two were supposed to share, to live in together forever in less than a week, vaguely aware of the fact that he was probably going to wear a hole in the floor if he kept this up but decided he had bigger problems to worry about.
Like how you hadn't spoken to him beyond a few words, ducking your head, letting your braids cover your face every time so he couldn't see your expression, since he'd kissed you.
Had you not liked it? You'd said you didn't mind, but... maybe he'd misread the whole thing. Maybe he'd scared you off for good by kissing you after barely a few days of knowing you.
He couldn't help himself. You'd just looked so good, standing there with the sunlight bringing a warmth to you that he'd never seen before, with that starry look in your eyes like all your worries about the impending union had been wiped away. By him.
Or, at least, the home he'd built for you.
Even if you hadn't spoken to him in what felt like weeks, the hut was still rich with your presence in sweet, subtle ways.
Neteyam searched for them now, eyes flicking about the room like a child scrambling for a security toy. He found himself doing this often, in the same order, whenever he was stressed. It had been subconscious at first, then grew into an unshakeable habit.
First, your cloak, hung neatly on a peg near the entrance, smelling even now, albeit faintly, of dry grass and direhorse.
Secondly, a few small pots of paint. You'd use it for your ceremonial paint for the union. But for now it remained untouched, sitting on one of the shelves. Waiting.
The wind chimes. Your wind chimes, now, really. They'd confused you at first, but even on days without wind, now, you'd set them going with a simple brush of the fingers as they passed by.
A half-carved direhorse. You'd been making wooden animals for Tuk lately, possessing a talent for woodcarving even Jake or Neytiri couldn't rival. But you hadn't finished this one for some reason, and so there it sits on the window sill, as it has for weeks now.
Your knife sheath. Tough, practical, like everything else you owned.
Not that you had a lot of things. The Olangi were so minimalistic, which, to Neteyam, seemed something of a miserable existence.
The Omaticaya adored beautiful things, surrounded themselves with them. Pretty trinkets, sparkling stones, colourful, intricate clothes...
Neteyam wanted to share all of that with you. He didn't even know if you wanted anything to do with the Omaticaya culture and way of life, but he knew he wanted to share it with you. Badly.
But you wouldn't even look at him.
Neteyam sighed, stepping in the middle of the hut, clasping his hands over the back of his neck as he looked at your few belongings, wondering if he'd rushed things, ruined it all, ruined what could have been a perfectly good union.
Meanwhile, across the village, you were having your own problems. Well, you didn't have a problem. But the slender, rich blue Omaticaya girls adorned in pretty, delicate clothes approaching you seemed to.
"You're the Olangi, right?" the girl at the forefront asked with a smile.
"Yes," you said, brow furrowing in confusion as they drew nearer, though they seemed a little wary of your direhorse, your precious Akicita, who was quite a bit bigger than the Omaticaya direhorses and nowhere near as gentle.
Well, he behaved for you, but you'd been with him from almost his birth. You were all he knew, and now more than ever, since you'd brought him to this strange place with no familiarity to it whatsoever.
"Did you need something?" you began, turning from Akicita to face them fully. "Only I'm busy, I-"
You were busy. You knew brushing them off probably wouldn't endear yourself to the Omaticaya further, but you were.
With bomb-proofing Akicita, that is.
There were a lot of new distractions and things to scare or startle him. You didn't want any accidents, so you spent your morning walking and riding him alternately around camp, introducing him to everything.
"Neteyam will never love you," the same girl said, interrupting you, her words punctuated by her friends' laughter.
You kept your expression carefully impassive, and turned back to Akicita, stroking his shoulder to calm him as he stamped his hoof, shaking his big head unhappily as he felt the hurt strike through you. "I know," you said, voice taut with the effort of not snapping at them for having the audacity to even speak to you about such things. "What is it to you? You have an even lesser chance of winning his affections than I do."
She looked like she'd been slapped.
You'd only spoken the truth, so you couldn't even begin to imagine why she then hissed at you, causing Akicita to whinny, trying to bully his way between you and them.
"You are nothing to him, just a-" she began in a voice that was unsteady with false brightness, only to be cut off.
"Just a what?" a familiar voice piped up, and the equally familiar form of Lo'ak entered your vision as he ducked under Akicita's head to stand next to you, nudging the direhorse out of the way fearlessly.
Lo'ak and Akicita had taken a liking to each other for reasons you couldn't decipher. Neteyam said it was because they were both troublemakers.
Damn. You'd been trying not to think of him. After the kiss and everything... You'd barely been able to look him in the eye. What kind of Olangi were you, to throw yourself so shamelessly at him like that? You were a disgrace, plain and simple. He'd been the one to kiss you, but you didn't have to be so pathetic about it.
It made you dizzy just thinking about it.
"Go on," Lo'ak encouraged, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes bright as he stared at the girls. "My brother's future mate is just a what?"
She hissed at him too, but her friends withdrew, melting back into the village like they'd never been there, clearly not wanting to square up to the second son of Toruk Makto. She had no choice but to go too, casting you a nasty look over her shoulder.
Lo'ak shrugged, then turned and gave you a lopsided smile. "They're bitches."
You repeated the unfamiliar word back to him, though it felt clumsy in your mouth. It must be English. Neteyam had told you their father had taught them a little. Damn. You had to stop thinking of him.
It did nobody any good, not you or him. You'd made a silly mistake, blinded by the allure of your first kiss and him, and you shouldn't have kissed him. You were supposed to wait.
Not that that was the way of all Olangi, but you were the youngest child of the olo'eyktan. You couldn't just go around kissing people like that.
"Hey," Lo'ak said, giving your shoulder a shake. "You okay? Breathe, bro. You look like you're about to pass out."
"I'm fine," you managed, shaking your head.
He shrugged again. "If you say so." He seemed uncomfortable for a second, looking at you intently. Then he spoke again. "I don't actually like you all that much, y'know?"
You blinked slowly, absorbing that. Then you mimicked his shrug. "No one seems to around here." You turned back to Akicita, feeling like crying, which you hadn't for years. How could you, when you had been so happy?
You missed your home. No one had ever insulted you there. You were with people you loved and who loved you.
"Hey, no, wait, I'm not done," Lo'ak rushed out, following after you as you took ahold of Akicita, leading him away. "I don't like you, but my brother does. So why have you been ignoring him? He's really upset about it."
You raised your eyes skyward, asking the Great Mother for patience. "We kissed," you said bluntly, slowing your walk to let Lo'ak catch up.
His eyes went wide. "Wow! Really?"
"I have brought shame upon myself and my family by throwing myself at him so shamelessly," you continued in a monotone.
The way Lo'ak tilted your head told you he had no clue what was so shameful about it.
"We must be joined before the eyes of the Great Mother before we can... kiss," you explained, curling your lip and baring your fangs at him in exasperation. "And everything else."
"Dumb," Lo'ak announced loudly, clasping his hands behind his back as he walked alongside you. "We don't do that. You can kiss him if you want. You don't have to be mates to kiss someone."
"You have to where I'm from," you sighed. "And I did want to kiss him. I still want to."
Lo'ak's nose scrunched, brow furrowing. "Ew. You can keep that to yourself."
You rolled your eyes and shoved him. "Are you trying to help or trying to make things worse?"
"I'm not making it worse. You're making it worse by not talking to anyone except your giant fuckin' horse," he pointed out.
He was right, and you hated that. "How was I supposed to know the cultural differences ran so deep? I thought Neteyam would be ashamed too! That he would not want to see me!"
"Eywa, you're stupid. He's giving you space," Lo'ak huffed at you, tail lashing out and hitting you smartly on the back. "Just talk to him. Please. He's so depressed. It's driving everyone crazy."
"You are truly annoying," you said, hitting him back across the leg with the flat of your tail. "Fine. I will talk to him. And then we will kiss." The last part was just to annoy Lo'ak more, and he wrinkled his nose again, shoving you.
"Bro, shut up!" he laughed.
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Taglist: @luvv4j4ybe11 @ikeyniofthetayrangi
@ikeyniofthetayrangi @rivatar @lunamochii
@mochamochimoch1015 @oakbuggy
some people who wanted to see part 3 too I couldn't tag, sorry if I missed you 🥺 let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!
Also rip to everyone who wanted more fluff, I couldn't resist 👍
Part Four >
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badnoahmens · 9 months
Text
Sweep Me Off My Feet
Noah Sebastian x Reader
A/N: this was an anon request - I hope I did you proud! “Reader and him are bffs and she gets really depressed staying alone during the shutdown, so Noah picks her up and she ends up living with him during it all. So everyone else in the band quickly realizes that they are more than besties, just in the way they act with each other.”
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42 days into this ‘lockdown’, you think. 42 days since it was all over the news, ‘stay in your house, don’t leave unless it's for a medical reason. Blah blah blah’. The panic has started to subside, people are somewhat used to the idea now, despite how upsidedown the world is seeming. The days were just so long, and the nights seemed to drag on forever. There wasn’t really an end in sight, just more and more delays of the inevitable. “Lockdown extended another week…month… the rest of our lives”.
There was only one thing helping you get through this, and that was Noah. He would be the one who always answered the phone, answered the messages, sent you hilarious videos or photos of himself. It was this connection that was what was stopping you from going insane.
Your house was otherwise empty. You lived on your own, along with your dying house plants. A blanket of darkness was getting ever so comfortable to live in, and it was becoming dangerous. You would go days without showering, the house was a mess, and the food you were eating could barely even be called edible.
It was 4pm, and you still hadn’t left the couch. Staring mind-numbingly at the TV as a show that auto-played in front of you. It was like your brain was paralyzing you, stopping from being alive. Instead, just existing; taking up space.
The only light in the room came from the TV as figures from an unknown show ran about their lives. The curtains were shut and all the doors and windows closed. A sudden brrrrrrrr from your phone drew you out of the shroud you were in, the phone screen lighting up with a new message.
Noah: Have you drank any water today?
You scoff. Was this man stalking you?
You reply: since when are you tracking my vitals?
You stand, bones creaking and cracking as you finally show some sign of life, and then saunter over to the kitchen. A cup that looks relatively clean sits by the sink, so you fill it up with water and drink it as quickly as you can.
Your phone lights up again.
Noah: You just drank some, didn’t you?
Your response? Nothing. He knows he’s right. You won’t even need to say anything.
Noah: knew it.
You: shut up.
You look down at your phone, and then around at the house. It was embarrassing. The smell was suddenly becoming apparent, and it was a concoction of body sweat, dampness and something else that might have been the dead plant.
You sigh. Knowing this wasn’t any way to live. Leaving the TV playing, you walk upstairs and to the bathroom, twisting the handles in the shower so the water comes pouring down. The steam begins to hollow out and you strip from your clothes, tossing them to the side. The waterfall feels clean, it envelopes you and you close your eyes in bliss. Why has this been so hard to do? The scent of your shampoo brings a slight smile to your face when you wash your hair, and it may just be because you were proud of yourself just for doing that. As you rinse your hair, there was a noise from outside the bathroom. A bang. Then a crash. Then a… clink?
Your heartbeat rises. Someone else was there, it wasn’t from the tv and you knew it. With shaking hands you shut off the shower and grasp your towel, wrapping your body in it roughly. Your mind starts to race. Will they leave without knowing you were there? Will they find you? What will they do if they do? Looking around the room, you panic when your phone is missing. It’s still downstairs. Fuck.
The footfalls grow louder as they climb the stairs, slowly. And then, as though he knows you would be hiding, Noah calls out.
“Are you home? It’s just me! Please don't attack me!”
The breath you were holding onto finally is let out, and you stomp over to the door, swinging it open aggressively.
“What the fuck, Noah!” You yell at him, hair dripping onto the floor as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. His hair was longer now, coming close to sitting on his shoulders. His dark brown eyes were wide as they stared at you, in a towel, in the middle of the hallway, with an angry expression twisted in your face. “I thought you were coming to kill me!”
It was then that you noticed a bag in his hand, a garbage bag, full of the rubbish that has been littering your house for weeks. “Are you cleaning?”
He still is looking at you, “I thought it would help…” he says sheepishly.
“Why are you cleaning?” you ask, quite literally dumbfounded.
“I know what you’re like. This isn’t healthy. I’m cleaning and you’re going to pack a bag and come live with us” he stated matter-of-factly.
“Come live with you?”
He nods his head, then turns and walks into your bedroom. You see the light in the room shift as he slides the curtains and opens the window, letting a light breeze slowly waft into the room and down towards you. You’re still confused as you see him rummaging around in your bedroom, throwing rubbish into a bag, then looking up to meet your confused stare.
“I can pack a bag for you if you’re just going to stand there” he remarks, and you respond quickly.
“I’ll pack myself, thank you very much. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I don’t trust you”
“What do you mean!” Noah calls back in disbelief.
“Grass shoes!” You yell back.
He stands in silence for a moment. “Enough said,” he states finally in defeat.
As you walk into your room, you start to feel overwhelmed watching Noah already having a full bag of trash. He was here all of 5 minutes and had done more around the house than you had in a month. Guilt started to eat away at the pit of your stomach, and Noah noticed the energy shift in the room. When he looked at you tears started to form.
“Hey…. Hey hey hey hey” he says, dropping the bag and coming to your side, wrapping his long arms around you. You bury your head in his chest and loop your arms around him. Breathing in his scent helped, but it didn’t stop the tears completely.
“I can stop if it’s not helping”
“No, please, I’m just sorry. It’s a lot. I haven’t seen you in so long”
“I know, but I knew I had to do something.”
It took all of a few hours to get the house into a relatively clean state. With bags of rubbish out of the way, clothes and dishes put back into their place, weeks of dirt and grime finally cleaned, you started to feel alive again. There was something about spending time with Noah that made you feel better. When the sun was starting to set, your house looked normal, bags were packed, and you were closing the door behind you as you left and walked towards Noah’s car.
The drive back to his house was quiet. You watched out the window as the view zoomed past. It seemed odd being outside, to be moving somewhere especially when you were not supposed to be leaving your house. But this was essential. This was for a medical reason. If Noah had not come to help you, who knows how long it would have taken to start completely falling apart.
When you finally pulled into the driveway, Noah stepped out and collected your bags, then headed straight inside having you follow him in. Although it was early, you were exhausted.
“I think I might just go straight to bed,” you murmur to Noah. He nods, then leads you to a bedroom. It was mostly bare, but it would be perfect. After how much clutter you had been surrounded with lately, the minimalism was refreshing.
You drop your bags on the bed, then turn to see Noah at the door.
“If you need anything, you know to come find me” he speaks softly. You nod in response. He then closes the door leaving you with nothing but yourself.
You look around the room. A bed was pushed up against the wall. A painting hung opposite it, and a plant stood tall in the corner by the door. The view out of the window showed the tall tree that stood in the backyard by the timber fence, and it looked like there were a few small birds taking up residence in a nest off one of the branches. You smiled at the birds, admiring their own peacefulness. They were content. Happy. Living with what they had. You were determined to get there yourself.
After a restless night’s sleep, you awoke to the sun shining through the window. The birds had left for the morning, possibly to get their food, and you decided you needed to do the same.
As you exit out of your new bedroom, the house is quiet aside from the muffled sounds of the tv from around the corner. You come around to see the animated faces of unknown characters playing out. It was an anime, and you were unfamiliar, but you did recognise the back of 2 heads facing the screen with their back to you. Noah and Jolly were sitting down on a couch lost in the adventure they were watching. You rounded the couch and slumped next to them. Nothing needed to be said, and nothing was said. They just shifted over to give you more room and continued on with their show.
This is what you needed. This new normal. With people around you. People that made you smile, made you actually want to get up in the morning, and to watch funny shows with.
As the anime continued, you started to ask some questions. “So who’s side are we supposed to be on?” “Aren’t they supposed to be the bad guy?” “What do you mean they just died?” “How old are these characters supposed to be?”
Noah and Jolly answered every single one of them, explaining plot points, theories and sometimes even loopholes in the storytelling.
After an hour, Jolly left to retreat to the kitchen, leaving yourself and Noah sitting side by side. He looked over at you, sharing a smile, and threw his arm over your shoulder. The action made you fall onto his side, a strangely comforting feeling after being so distant for so long. But a feeling that you knew you could get used to pretty quick.
2 months have passed now. You were still living with Noah and the boys. He still made you laugh and smile like you never had before. The days were simple, spending time with each other, watching shows, writing music, and playing games. But tonight it was another night on the couch. It became a tradition these days to all be sprawled out, limbs over limbs, invading personal space, all in an effort to spend quality time together and work as a close unit of friends. It felt so natural with them, they were beyond welcoming, and made you feel like a part of the family.
Just like all the nights that had passed previously, Nick was the first to go, standing with a sigh, rubbing his belly, and sauntering off into his room. Next to follow was Jolly, after many arguments about his falling asleep during the show, he finally admitted defeat and retreated back to his bedroom.
This left you and Noah alone. The growing haze of sleepiness was creeping ever so close to taking over. Your eyelids felt so heavy that it was impossible to keep them open. I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute, you say to yourself, knowing full well this was the biggest lie. It was mere seconds until the dream state took you under.
You were abruptly awoken by the feeling of rummaging coming from beneath you. Lifting your head from its place, you peer between the slits of your open eyes. You’re met with Noah’s face looking at you, perplexed and a little worried.
“Go back to sleep, I’m sorry I woke you” he whispers in a soft tone, a little raspy and sleepy himself.
Twisting your head you can see you laying by his side, squished between his body and the back of the couch pillows. Noah was laying on his back, dangling close to the edge, one leg hanging off at the knee to stop from slipping off altogether. His hands rested on your back, gliding up and down in a soothing motion. His arm was twisted around your side, with you nestled comfortably and quite perfectly fitted under his arm with head resting on his chest.
A hand of yours was tucked under your head, and it takes a second to realize how you got here. When you fell asleep, you must have slipped down onto Noah, and him being the gentleman he is, didn’t want to wake you. Was he asleep himself? By the look of his hair, spread across the beige pillow in a tangled mess, it’d be a good guess to say that he was.
You lay your head down once more, gazing drizzly up at Noah, who tenderly brushed some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.
“You know you talk in your sleep” he uttered quietly, as if not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.
Still half asleep, you close your eyes and sigh.
“I was afraid of that” you whisper.
“It was adorable,” he says, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Noah leans his head down, straining it at an almost awkward angle, to meet your face. Suddenly, you weren’t so sleepy anymore. He was so close. His breath washed over your face and wafted down past your neck. He was lingering, slow, questioningly. Did he want this? Did you? Shivers were running down your spine, possibly from the surge of butterflies in your stomach. Noah was your friend, your closest friend, and would this ruin it? Thoughts were running wild in your head, dancing dangerously close to ruining what was about to happen.
Noah notices, he sees you hesitate, and he pulls back. Your stomach drops.
“I’m sorry, I-“ he starts.
You interrupt him by leaning up and meeting his lips with yours. He flinched at the impact, but didn't pull back. Instead, his lips move like yours, mimicking the motion you create, parting slightly to allow just that tiny bit more of a connection. You slide up, straddling Noah so that your thighs are at the sides of his torso, moving your hands so they are on either side of his face, fingers tangling with his long hair in a feeble attempt to ground yourself in the moment. His hands move too, gingerly griping at your hips, but not as to hold, but to caress. You feel a tremor of anticipation across your body, the light pressure that he creates between you two, rolling his body to be closer to yours, makes the sensation even more intimate.
You’re still kissing him, heavily. His mouth parts more, flicking the tip of his tongue over your lips as though to ask for more. You respond with the same motion, with tongues now intertwining as you begin to taste him. The fears and worries from before are long gone, and all that you could think of now was him, was that he wants this just as much as you do.
The intensity between you and Noah grows more. It's as if the universe has narrowed down to this singular moment, where every touch, every sensation, becomes heightened and electrifying. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the softness of his skin — it all consumes your senses.
With each passing second, the kiss deepens, evolving into something more profound and passionate. Your tongues dance together, exploring the uncharted territory of each other's mouths. It's a delicate balance between fervor and tenderness, a beautiful symphony of desire and affection, orchestrated perfectly just for the two of you.
Noah's hands glide up your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. As his hands slip beneath your shirt, his fingers gently caress your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body and intensifying the sensation. Time becomes irrelevant as you revel in this newfound closeness. The outside world ceases to exist, and it's just the two of you, entwined in an embrace that speaks volumes without uttering a single word. In this intimate dance, you feel a profound sense of trust and vulnerability, knowing that you are sharing something special and rare.
You can feel him begin to writhe beneath you, legs shifting and pressing against the space between yours. You pause momentarily, letting the moment linger, before reciprocating the same passion, grinding down with your hips to create friction between your clothes. The moan that elicits from Noah echoes into your mouth, the feeling of pleasure taking over him for a moment. As the kiss lingers, your hands wander, discovering the contours of each other's bodies. His hands now gripping desperately at your body, one cinched below your thigh, pulling it up closer to him, the other hooked around the back of your neck, thumb rubbing delicate shapes into your skin. Every touch, every caress, elicits a gasp or a sigh from both of you, like a plea for more.
But eventually, the need for air becomes undeniable, and you reluctantly break the kiss, your lips still tingling from the connection. Breathless and flushed, you meet Noah's gaze, searching for reassurance and affirmation. He looks back at you, with the same search in his eyes. Almost like he’s looking for answers too, like he’s asking if he could continue. You lean your forehead against Noah's, your breaths intermingling as you revel in the afterglow of that passionate kiss. Both of you are out of breath, panting in an effort to regain some kind of consciousness. Time seems to stand still, as if the universe itself is holding its breath, acknowledging the significance of this shared moment. That is, until the rattle of the fridge door, and the flood of its light tears you from the moment, violently throwing you back to the reality around you. With a jolt, your head darts towards the source, the silhouette of Jolly in the fridge gives you your answer.
“Bout time you guys kiss and make up” he says, with such a carefree nature, a hint of humor playing in his last words. “Nick, you owe me 20!” He calls, exiting the room and around the corner.
“We’re they fucking, or just making out?” You hear Nick call from another room.
“Just making out. Thank Christ” Jolly answers to himself, leaving you and Noah to giggle, flushed red with embarrassment. Despite being caught in the act, it didn’t dampen the mood. You were still straddling Noah, but sitting more upright now. He sits up, readjusting so you sit atop his lap. He brushes a loose strand behind your ear, and looks at you tenderly.
It might be the lack of oxygen, but the way the colorful light from the tv dances on Noah’s face makes him seem more beautiful, like something you’ve never seen in him before.
In the room's shifting shadows, the illustrations decorating his neck come alive, dancing in the changing colors that starkly contrast with the white of his shirt. His hair was a mess, tangled and knitted from your fingers, but it was his eyes, and the way they looked into your soul, that made you feel at home. With your hands draped around his neck, you lean in once more, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into you again, pushing his hands against your back to make you closer to him as you both revel in the fleeting moment. Even if it did change things in the future, you didn’t care.
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letstrip13 · 2 months
Text
🌫 - paris
reader x matt
summary: y/n is getting tired of people constantly commenting on her and matt's relationship so she dreams of escaping it with him
no warnings, slight use of y/n, fluff, influencer couple, inspired by "paris" by taylor swift
word count: 1,229
author's note: i apologize if this messy, i got the idea from a dream and it was kind of hard to remember so i had to make up some details
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you and your boyfriend, matt, are laying in his bed together while both of you are on your phones. the relationship between the two of you has been going strong for a little over a year now. both of you have your own social media careers going, but you often make appearances in the triplet’s vlogs since you and matt are together all the time.
you’re not cuddling but you’re still very close, his shoulder against yours while your legs are tangled with his under the blankets. you’re doing completely separate things on your phones; knowing matt, he’s probably playing clash of clans or something while you’re scrolling through instagram. suddenly, you receive a new message.
“did you see the photos? no, i didn’t, but thanks, though.”
you check the message and it was someone asking if you had seen the new photos teatok had posted of you and matt. of course you hadn’t looked at the post, you didn’t want anything to do with that because of all the lies they spread. usually their posts are ignored by you and matt, but curiosity gets the better of you this time. you go to their page and check their latest post.
it’s a picture of you and matt out together where you’re walking a few steps ahead of him. you can’t help but roll your eyes at the absurd headline, “influencer couple, matt sturniolo and y/n l/n are splitting up?! 👀” of course the one time you weren’t holding his hand, they had to get a picture.
“i’m so in love that i might stop breathing.”
you put your phone down on matt’s nightstand and you glance over at him. he looks so perfect even when he’s barely doing anything. the glowing screen of his phone lights up his face. he’s like a dream; everything from his beautiful blue eyes, to the way his nose looks so perfect from his side profile, the dark stubble covering his cheeks and jaw, and the curve of his soft, pink lips.
you cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder while burying your face in his neck while wrapping your arm loosely around his torso. without diverting his focus from the game on his phone, he wraps his arm around you to pull you even closer. “he’s so perfect, it’s unreal,” you think to yourself.
“drew a map on your bedroom ceiling.”
your mind starts drifting as you lay in comfortable silence with matt. you can’t help but wonder how different your lives would be if you two weren’t in the public eye so much, if you had a “normal” life. you’re grateful for your fans and success and you know he is too, however, you can’t help but wonder.. how different would your lives be if you traded it all in, even just for a day?
“no, i didn’t see the news, cause we were somewhere else.”
matt gently rubs your back while still playing his game. the gesture is comforting and a few minutes later, your eyes are fluttering closed and you're falling asleep on him.
suddenly, you wake up on a plane. matt is sitting next to you and an announcement comes on, saying that the plane is about to land. before you can fully register what's happening, matt is putting your luggage in the trunk of a car and you're in the back of a cab. he holds your hand the whole ride. as you're looking out the window at the beautiful city, you realize that you don't exactly know where you are. the scenery looks like something you've seen in pictures before, but you can't quite name it. it seems that matt knows something you don't, judging by the excited smile on his face.
the cab stops in front of a big building. matt gets out of the car and opens the door for you so you can step out. he grabs the luggage and leads you into the building. you enter a beautiful hotel lobby. it looks like something out of a movie. you get into the elevator and he presses the button to go up to the penthouse suite. he unlocks the door and lets you step into the room first. it's even more amazing than the lobby. it looks more like an apartment than a hotel room with the huge sitting area and flatscreen tv, the king-sized bed that looks like it would feel like sleeping on a cloud, and the bathroom which has a shower and bathtub easily big enough for two with lots of extra room. the best part is the sliding glass door that leads out to a balcony.
“i was taken by the view like we were in paris, like we were somewhere else.”
he takes your hand and leads you out to the balcony. he wraps his arm around your waist as the both of you look out at the view. the sun is setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the city scenery and the clouds have started to turn a little orange. in the distance, you see the eiffel tower. that’s when you realize that you’re in paris. matt places a gentle hand on your cheek and starts to turn your face towards his. just when he’s about to kiss you, you hear his voice but it’s not coming from him.
“baby?” you wake up to matt gently shaking you awake. he smiles down at you. “did you have a good nap, my love?” you yawn and give him a sleepy nod. “yeah, i had a dream that we were in paris. i really want to go someday.” he smiles and kisses your forehead. “i’ll take you there one day.”
you give him a quick kiss on the lips before checking your phone to see if anyone had texted you while you were asleep. your best friend sent you a tiktok so you turn on your phone to check it but it opens to the post about you and matt from earlier. you roll your eyes out of annoyance when you see it and matt looks down at you. “what’s wrong?” “look at what they’re saying about us.” you hand him your phone so he can see the post for himself. he reads the headline and almost laughs at how stupid it sounds.
“romance is not dead if you keep it just yours.”
he gives your phone back as you let out a soft sigh. “i hate that they always have something to say about us, not even just them.. but so many people are constantly commenting on our relationship. i get that it comes with our career but i’m getting really tired of it.” matt pulls you into a hug and gently rubs your back. “i know, baby. so am i.” you slowly pull away to look up at him. “can we keep our relationship offline? just for a little while, until people are distracted with something else.” “yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”
you and matt take some time to write out a statement saying that you’re choosing to keep your relationship private for a while then you both post it to your instagram stories. matt gets out of bed. “wanna go for a drive?” you nod and he pulls you out of bed, leading you out of the room.
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sharkksee · 5 months
Text
THE BIRD AND THE CAT !!
──── Damian Wayne x Thief!Reader. 934 words. Part one here.
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He had let you go. You escaped thanks to him, he didn't use violence, he didn't chase you, he didn't send you to the police. He let you go, he easily let you go with all those bills of your goal. Why? Why did you have to steal his heart?
He can't think about that, not when it's about you. You are a criminal, he should put you behind bars. But he knows he can't, and you know it too.
“You haven't been stealing in a while, fleabag.” Damian spoke coldly as he watched you approach a window that you silently opened of the jewelry store, preventing you from even entering.
His eyes look at you penetratingly, analyzing your every move. Is it attraction you feel? He can't feel that, not with a thief like you. He is Robin, he is a hero, not a hypocrite like Batman.
You turn around, seeing the young man in the Robin costume behind you. You sigh with disapproval and descend from the window that you failed to interrupt, landing on the ground.
“Oh, my bad.” You say, with a hint of sarcasm, as you leans towards the boy, attentively. “I returned to action because I knew you would come, little bird.”
His eyes watched you and studied you for a few moments, his gaze was curious, but he continued to hide it. “Were you waiting for me?” Damian asked calmly, the smile on his face becoming more subtle but more threatening, he didn’t trust someone like you.
“Yes, I was waiting for you.” You said as you walked until you were in front of him, as if you were challenging him to a duel, as if you weren't afraid of him. Because you know that, despite his attempts to catch you, he will never dare let you go to the police. This is a game that will only continue if he lets you get away with the robbery with dirty hands.
“You know, you really should leave the stealing for people.” Damian said with a confident tone. But his curiosity was winning over him.
The young hero enjoyed the fact that, despite his best efforts, the thief could escape his watchful gaze, and that the more he thought about you, the less sense it made. You seemed like the type of character he would despise the most, yet something drew him towards you, sending shivers down his spine.
“Nah, It's obvious you adore me, admit it.” You smirked at him. “You can't get bored of me.”
“You’re wrong, cat.” Damian said, looking at you intently, his words sounded cold and harsh. Damian’s voice had completely changed when he addressed you directly. He seemed unapproachable and intimidating, yet something else lurked beneath his gaze. Perhaps the little thief wasn’t as bad as he thought.
As if he couldn't do anything else but look into your eyes, he was hypnotized by their color beauty. He wanted to look away, but something about them was calling his name. He was confused, but he liked it.
“Ah, is that so?” You smile as he took a step closer to Damian, who remained still in his same spot, not moving. Damian stares at you. He watches your movements, and it seems to him that you are doing it on purpose to make him feel jealous, to make him lose your concentration. He's not sure, but the little smile on your face is adorable. “Your mouth says one thing, but your mind says another.”
He tried to hide his attraction, and failed miserably. His heart was racing as he got closer to you, his movements becoming slower. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to kiss you, to hold you in his arms. The idea was so appealing, so strange…
“Don't think you can trick me, cat,” Damian said, calmly, barely moving a muscle. There was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you, he couldn't deny that his heart was beating at a furious pace. He wanted to do something more than just kiss you and let you go.
“How does this game end? Does the thief finally get captured and sent to the police, or does the criminal escape with the hero's heart?”
“Why don’t we find out?” You leaned closer, your breaths touching the other's face with an intoxicating softness. Damian's mind was bursting with questions, were you doing that to distract him? Or was this a real scene, beneath the veil of crime alley?
His body trembled, and he felt his heart beating wildly. You were beautiful as you leaned forward, closer to him. The heat of your breath was something else, that was it, he couldn't resist you anymore.
Damian’s heart raced, he closed his eyes and captured your lips with his own. He moved his hands to your hair and let himself go, kissing you passionately, he could no longer hold back, and that scared him. His feelings for you were real, and they weren't supposed to be.
You had captured him without even realizing it, you had conquered his heart. He knew this was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so damn right. The feeling was new to him, he never felt this way for anyone. Was there something more? Was it possible that he really liked you?
Damian opened his eyes slightly, looking at you, damn. He was doing what he swore he would never do. He was letting the thief steal his heart.
“You know what they say, little birds like you aren't too hard to catch.”
“Just shut up, fleabag.”
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xylianasblog · 4 months
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Playful touches
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Pairings: So’lek x FemHuman reader
Summary: Admiring the new male afar can only get you so far, until you start picking and teasing.
Warnings: MDNI, tail play, mutual masturbation, external masturbation
꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦DMNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦
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It was no secret, well at least to yourself that you admired this brooding Na’vi male. Something about him just drew you in, was it the deepness of his voice? The way he commanded attention from everyone even the humans in the camp.
You were only coming from another camp to help with resources and to give aid to the humans who were hurt or sick, you aren’t mean to stay.
That definitely didn’t stop you from speaking and bothering him at every chance you got. You were so that your presence bothered him, being a human and all but you didn’t care not one bit. You knew how sensitive a Na’vi tail could be, everyone had different ways they responded. Yet he didn’t seem like he ever reacted.
You hand tugged gently on his tail, your fingers gently tracing along the length of it until he moved it away. He didn’t glance at you, not one single look or reaction and that made you frown. You peeked around his body, your eyes trialing over the vest and dog tails until they reached his face. His plump lips set in a scowl yet nothing else, his eyes trained on anything that wasn’t you.
It had been a few weeks yet still no reaction from the male, your touches alone his tail became more persistent. Lingering touches that started at the base of his tail, your fingers sliding along its length until he moved. Each time resulted in a barely noticeable shiver from him and a scowl on his handsome face.
One day you were out near the river, it was a lazy day for you. Having the chance to get away from the hustle and bustle of the camp, the air around you quiet as you watched the fish swim.
“Why are you always so persistent tiny human?” Your eyes widened the moment you heard his voice. “So touchy, do you humans always behave like this?” You said nothing but that only gave him reason to continue, not aware that each time he spoke he took steps closer and closer to you.
“Why must you pester me, I have seen your looks. You are not very discreet.” The tone of his voice sent shivers down your spine. “What is it that you want? Tugging and touching on my tail, as if you wish to be bred.”
You couldn’t find the words to say as you stared at him, eyes trained on his face. His gaze was hard yet full of lust, the needy to have you bent over growing. He was close enough now, crouched down before you, thumb and finger holding onto your chin as he tilted your head back. His gaze held yours until you found yourself face down and ass up, your pussy exposed for him.
His groan was deep, the sound itself felt like it caused your entire body to vibrate. You rested there only adjusting to a more comfortable position as you felt the length of his cock pressed against your slightly slick folds.
“I will not use your tiny body yet” he grumbled just as a small sigh left your lips. You felt his hands rubbing your ass in gentle circles before his hands made themselves home on your hips.
The slow glide of his length against your folds had your hand flying up to your mouth to hold muffle your soft little moans, his quiet grunt and the throb of his cock had your body craving to be filled. “So’lek please..” you whined. “You do not have to be gentle; I know I am small, but you can do as you please.”
You heard his grunt as he continued to thrust the length of his cock along your folds, your body shuddering each time his tip brushed and rubbed along your clit. Your soft cries the only things his ears focused on; his eyes trained on the way your body willingly submitted to him.
“I will play with you as I please, I will train you.” He adjusted himself so the tip of his throbbing cock was pressed against your entrance. “Teach you to behave for me. To take all of me.” He leaned down nuzzling into you as he continued speaking, thrusting forward just an inch so the tip slipped inside. “Do you understand?”
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Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @hiddensnow1 @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @strongheartneteyam @blue-slxt @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @justcaptainnoodles @Neteyamyawne @erenjaegerwifee @oakbuggy @hotdsworld @itchaboi-itchyboy @luvv4j4ybe11
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milo-manheim-luver · 10 months
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The Night We Met- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
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summary: rafe thinks you two met at a party years ago, but finds out you two had actually met a year before that. but why can’t he remember? and what happened that night?
warnings: major drug use, drug overdose, angst, mentions of alcohol, fluff, ooc rafe, suggestive content and defs cringy at the end lol. also might be a bit short? idek.
a/n: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THE WARNINGS ABOVE don’t know how i feel about the ending but i’m gonna yolo it. thought of this idea/concept when i was listening to the song below:
“you know, i’m so fucking happy you said ‘yes’. i honestly don’t know what i would’ve done if you hadn’t” rafe spoke as he held Y/N in his arms, curled up in the bed at his father’s house in the bahamas. one arm wrapped around the young woman’s back as the other gripped her bare thigh against his hip. the young woman’s hand drew imaginary shapes against his chest before looking up into his deep blue eyes.
“i could never say the word ‘no’ to you my love. never. i’m yours. forever and always. you’re the best thing that’s happened to me and i’m so happy i’m finally a cameron” Y/N face cracked into a wide smile, as she continued to gaze into rafe’s eyes, as he broke into a rare, genuine smile. the two had just gotten married the night before, and were now just relaxing in the privacy of rafe’s, father’s home in the bahamas.
“im so happy we met. truly, i am. i love you baby” rafe whispered down to his newly wedded wife, moving his hand from holding her bare thigh, to push back a piece of her hair from her face, as he planted a gentle, but passionate kiss to her plump lips.
“i love you too hunny” she whispered as their lips detached from one another’s. “d-do you remember the night we met?” Y/N continued, swallowing the lump in her throat. she knew she’d have to tell him her secret eventually, and now seemed like the perfect time as they were about to spend the rest of their lives together.
“uh yeah… i think so? pretty sure it was that banger of a party top was having my senior year of high school. you had come to the party with sarah. you guys had only been friends for about a year or two by then? i couldn’t stop looking at you” rafe chuckled at the memory as he continued. “i got you on my team as we played beer pong… and we killed it. everyone else we went up against sucked so bad” rafe continued to hold her in his arms, looking down to admire the woman he’d just gotten so lucky to marry.
“uh… r-rafe um m-my love. c-can i tell you something?” Y/N stuttered out to rafe. she was so scared to tell him how wrong he was, but she knew it had to be done.
“babe, you know you can tell me anything. what is it?” rafe questioned, as his hand on her bare thigh, began to rub soothing circles into her soft skin.
“that’s not the night we met… um… do you remember that story you told me about your overdose incident you had when you were only seventeen?” Y/N whispered out, not wanting to upset rafe by bringing up a hard time from his past that he was never proud of.
“uh, yeah. i do. that night is kinda a blur still to this day. all i remember is doing a few too many lines and waking up in the kildare island hospital two days later. doctors said if whoever had made the call, called five minutes later i’d be dead. why?” he spoke softly, as he replayed the memories in his brain. he’s hurt so many people during that period of time. he wished he’d never even started doing the drug, but at the time he felt as if that was the only thing that could save him from himself.
the young woman began to shake involuntary, getting her lovers attention, “babe why are you shaking? did i go too hard earlier?” he chuckled out lightheartedly, trying to lighten her mood.
“i’m shaking because i feel bad for keeping something from you. and yeah you did go hard, but i’m not complaining…. but that’s besides the point. please hear me out and don’t get mad. i only did it to protect you” she rambled on as rafe’s facial expression changed from a smile, to a stone-cold look, going completely serious.
she took his silence and stare as a sign to continue on what she had been keeping from him for the last 5 years. “that night you overdosed, i had come over to tannyhill to talk to sarah about something a-and when i got there…. there was nobody home… u-until i walked past your room a-and you were just pacing back and forth like some crazy guy” Y/N sniffled out as she moved her hand from drawing imaginary shapes from rafe’s chest, to cradle his left cheek as she spoke.
Y/N had just arrived to tannyhill, as her and sarah had to start working on a school project soon. but as soon as she arrived to the house, it was completely empty. she was always welcomed in, even when nobody was home. rose and ward had adored her as soon as they’d met her six months before tonight. it also helped that Y/N family were close business partners with ward as well.
as soon as Y/N walked up the spiral staircase, calling out sarah’s name, to see if she was home, she rounded the corner trying to find sarah. instead of sarah, however she found sarah’s brother, pacing his room back and forth, mumbling words to himself. he’d seemed to be twitching, and almost shaking as he was pacing, alarming Y/N a small amount. she’s decided to step into his doorway to see if he was okay.
rafe’s eyes softened as his girl spoke of what really happened that night he’d almost died, nodding his head in her hand, signaling her to continue. “i approached you babe, and you started getting all paranoid, you were yelling at me, which i guess wasn’t that abnormal for you at the time from what i’d heard from others. you started marching over to me as you continued to yell, i think you were going to push me, but i don’t know, but then you just fell to the ground and started dry heaving involuntarily, as your breathing became unsteady. it scared me…. i’d never seen anyone like that before. b-but then y-you turned all pale and completely passed out. i-i didn’t know what to do so i ran over to you to see what happened” Y/N started to whimper, as a single tear fell from her tear duct, and rolled down her soft cheek.
“hey, rafe, right? it’s Y/N, sarah’s friend. are you okay? you don’t look too good” Y/N asked politely to the young teenage boy, who stopped his pacing to look up at the girl.
“who the hell are you? what are you doing in my house? huh?” the young man yelled, as he began to walk up towards the girl, ready to shove her out of his room, but before he could get close enough, he hunched over, involuntarily dry heaving, as his breathing became more rapid, drawing even more red flags in the young teenage girls brain.
his face started to turn as white as a ghost, before he ultimately lost consciousness completely, falling limp onto his bedroom floor. Y/N immediately ran over the boys sides to see what she could do.
rafe’s eyes began to water, as he stared down at Y/N, seeing her slowly crack and break down into his arms. something he had dwelled forever; seeing his lover heartbroken and distraught. he’d never wanted to see her this way. it ached him to see her this way, and to know he was the cause made it 10x worse. “b-baby, continue…. finish the story. i can take it” rafe’s voice cracked as he urged his lover to tell the rest of the story. he was in shambles at the moment, tears welling up in his eyes as they started to pour out one by one.
“as soon as i’d ran over to your body, i picked your head up, trying to talk to you. i was just trying to figure out what you had taken. but then i’d remembered hearing from sarah before that you’d been doing a lot of cocaine, but in all seriousness i don’t think anyone noticed how bad your addiction really was.” Y/N whispered out, as she relived that night in her head one more time. she soon continued, “i was trying to find a pulse as i still held your head in my arms. i could barely hear it, and your skin was on fire. i’d just assumed it was a drug overdose, s-so i called 9-1-1”
the young teenage girl cradled the young drug addict’s head in her arms carefully, immediately feeling the extreme heat radiating from his skin, alarming the girl further. why was he on fire? and why did he completely pass out? Y/N soon came to realization what was possibly happening as soon as she remembered the conversation her and sarah were having the week before. sarah had been complaining to Y/N about her brother’s ‘slight’ drug problem. the drug of his choice however had been cocaine. sarah was always telling her how everytime he’d do a line or two, he’d get extremely paranoid and more aggressive than normal.
“rafe, wake up” the worried girl cried out to the passed out boy. “rafe, what did you take? how much did you take?!” she cried out again, but no answer to avail. she huffed and puffed as she started to cry, trying to find a pulse. she could barely hear his heartbeat through his carotid artery. she could not be responsible for his possible drug overdose. she would not. so, Y/N grabbed her phone from her back pocket of her jeans, and dialed 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the older lady spoke through the phone.
“hi, um i need an ambulance to the Cameron estate at tannyhill immediately! there’s a possible cocaine drug overdose! please come quick! i-i don’t know how much longer h-he will keep breathing” Y/N weeped into her phone, as she tried to keep her cool.
“ma’am, i need you to calm down. what’s your name?” the older lady asked through the phone to the young distraught girl.
“y-Y/N. what’s yours?” Y/N asked the lady.
“my name is susannah. Y/N i need you to tell me if they’re still breathing.” susannah spoke calmly to the young girl.
“u-uh yeah, it’s super faint though. is he gonna die?!” Y/N started sobbing as she continued to cradle rafe’s head.
“Y/N… do you know what possible drug they could’ve overdosed on? and do you know how much they took? their height or weight?”
“h-he does cocaine i believe. or at least that’s what i’ve been told. he’s uh maybe 6’2ish? i’m not sure. i-i don’t know how much he did though. i-i’m not sure how much he weighs but i do know that hes more of a muscular build if that helps” Y/N stuttered out to susannah, the 9-1-1 dispatcher.
“okay, Y/N stay with me. take deep breaths. help is on the way” susannah continued to speak to Y/N.
“y-you we-were the one who called the a-ambulance?” rafe croaked out to Y/N as he finally cracked. he was a mess. tears streaming down his cheeks as he tried to hold in his sobs, but no longer could. he was so tired of fighting to not show any emotion, so he didn’t fight it anymore. he continued through his sobs, “y-you were m-my savior t-that night?” the young man was wrapping his head around the realization that his newly wedded wife was the angel that saved his life all those years ago when he almost ended it after taking too much of the white drug.
Y/N just softly nodded her head, “i was baby… i was. i know i should’ve told you sooner. but i didn’t, i-i wanted to protect you from knowing the full truth because i know you’re gonna beat yourself up over it. that’s how you are; you will get so mad at yourself for something you’ve done that you slowly start to hurt yourself. i can’t let that happen to you baby” Y/N engulfed him into a hug, as her arms cradled his head into her chest as he wept.
“as soon as the ambulance got there, the cops also arrived. i gave my statement and since i was under eighteen, for legal reasons, they never put my name in that statement. that’s why you never knew and why they never told you. my love…. d-don’t be mad please.” the young woman stuttered out, scared her new husband was mad at her.
rafe lifted his head from her chest, sniffling, “i-i could never be mad at you baby…. never. i-i wanna tell you w-what the doctors told m-my dad and i… can i tell you?” Y/N wiped away rafe’s tears that continuously leaked from his eyes, as she nodded in response, wanting to know everything he knew.
it took rafe a moment to compose himself then began, “when i woke up two days later, obviously i told you that the doctor said that if whoever hadn’t called when they did or even 5 minutes later i’d be dead. i never told you why that was”
“what do you mean my love?” Y/N softly spoke as she looked into rafe’s deep blue eyes, with a look of worry in her own eyes to know the truth.
“i mean… the cocaine i took that night had been laced with small amounts of fentanyl which is why i lost complete consciousness and almost stopped breathing. they had to give me three doses of NARCAN and wait for the best. my dad made sure to keep that part secret, because having all of his business partners know about my cocaine problem was bad enough. he didn’t want anyone to know i’d accidentally done fentanyl as well.” rafe sighed as he remembered the look on his father’s face when he woke up: pure disappointment.
“really rafe? really? cocaine overdose? laced with fentanyl?! how do you think that’s going to make the family look? huh? i’m going to have to pay people off from telling others. this cannot get out” ward went on to his son about how he’d screwed up. it’d only been a day since rafe had woken up from his small coma and ward was already being insensitive to the teenage boys drug problem.
“d-dad i’m sorry. i didn’t know how else to cope with my feelings. it was the only escape i had from feeling like shit. w-when i take it, i feel-i feel almost happy” rafe tried to explain to his father, who in return just scoffed harshly.
“rafe… you need to get your shit together. i’m so sick of you coming up with all these excuses. you keep this shit up and you’re out of the house. got it?” ward sneered back to his only son, who only cowered his head down and nodded in return.
“rafe… you never told me that. why?” Y/N asked sweetly as she continued to gaze into rafe’s blue eyes.
“i’m not proud of that moment in my life. i was embarrassed for so many years. my father paid off people from telling others. he was so disappointed in me. you should’ve seen the look in his eyes the day after i woke up.” rafe sighed softly as he spoke.
“hunny, i’m sorry you went through that. never feel embarrassed about your struggles. i hope you know that no matter what, i will always love you. i will never be disappointed in you. i know that’s different coming from me and not him, but just remember i’ll always be by your side” Y/N thought thoroughly as she spoke every word with love.
“after the overdose incident… and seeing how scared my sisters were, and rose, i wanted so badly to get clean but i couldn’t go to rehab because then word would get out and it’d ruin my father’s deals and business. so i had to do it myself. it took awhile… and it was hard. but i eventually did it. after meeting you, well, from when i thought we met for the first time, you gave me strength to stay clean even when i had the urges” rafe smiled through more tears as he looked down at his wife.
“my love, i’m so proud of you. nothing you went through was easy. i hope you know that. and i hope you know i love you so much and if you ever feel like you have an urge you tell me. got it?” she spoke softly as she still caressed his cheeks looking into his eyes and to his lips.
rafe leaned down, planting his lips onto Y/N, kissing them repeatedly, as did she, and planting one last kiss that was full of love and passion, then pulled away.
“i love you baby. you’re my everything. i promise to come to you if i ever need anything or have an urge. i promise to not hurt you like i did to others i love in the past. i won’t put you through all the shit i put everyone else through all those years ago” rafe smiled again down at Y/N.
“i love you too with all my heart. now prove your love mr cameron” Y/N smirked up at rafe as he chuckled loudly.
“your wish is my command… but are you up for it?” he raised an eyebrow in question with a smirk planted on his face.
“i think i’ve rested enough… just give it to me” she smirked as rafe leaned down placing his lips onto hers harshly, pulling away once more.
“got it mrs cameron. got it. i’m gonna give it to you now” he smirked as he flipped the two over so he was hovering over her again.
“love you” she smiled as there noses briskly touched.
“love you too, my savior. now how about some kids?”
tag list:
@slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover
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lilacsareinbloomagain · 4 months
Note
Ik you said you’re on break but that’s okay! I can wait lmao
I’m obsessed with your yandere lu writings. I would love a yandere Time x fem reader where he like extra creeps on reader? I’m talking like spying on them n shit and maybe stealing an article of clothing just bc it smells like them
Lord help me that sounds so weird
Why am I like this
Help
Thank you so much for requesting for my boy Time!
Notes: No no I like your way of thinking, give me your worst. Me, personally, I can be way worse than that lol
In fact, I may have accidentally made this creepier than I meant to, idk
By the way, when I said underpants in this I meant those white pants thing Link uses, which is probably called tights or something, but I didn't want you guys to read this and imagine reader with, like, fishnets by accident lmao
Time has anxiety and I'll not elaborate
I was gonna post this tomorrow, but ya know
TWs: Yanderism, stalking, suggestiveness, clothing stealing.
Yandere! LU! Time x Reader
In a way, Time was like a cat.
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There was no way you could just ignore random articles of your clothes going missing every time you went to bath.
No matter where you went to clean yourself, it was like one part of your outfit was picked out by hand and evaporated, be it your undershirt, underpants, socks, and sometimes even your underwear!
You tried everything to prevent it, hiding your clothes, setting up traps… You only drew the line when it came to anything to do with poison, since you couldn't bear to possibly end up killing an innocent animal just for the sake of clothes.
Even if said clothes somehow always ended up randomly returning unscathed to the rest of your laundry.
Time and time again, this topic was brought up in conversations with the men you traveled alongside. Yet, for some reason, the matter was also time and time again swept under the rug. It never got solved, neither did it ever get discussed, more often than not.
Starkly different from your point of view, Time found it pretty cute how you got all fussy over some little clothes, clothes which he could easily just make you throw away and buy new ones, it's not like he was lacking the rupees for it, after all.
Yet, he couldn't find it within himself to keep pressing on that matter, not when you looked just so embarrassed protesting against the idea of throwing away your under clothes, stressing about how comfortable your clothes were and about how they were your favorite because of that exact reason.
From what he's noticed, you barely ever wore anything else, no matter how many clothes they could offer you, which was proof of just how much you adored that outfit, each part that composed it having been carefully thought out before being picked out by your hand back when they first went to the market to look for an appropriate Hyrulean attire for you.
It was more than obvious by now that you weren't planning on getting rid of it any time soon.
Still, despite all your best attempts to keep your clothes safe, you couldn't really stop them from randomly disappearing, that is, unless you stopped bathing, and that was something you obviously couldn't even consider doing.
So, you simply sighed with resolution as you took off your clothes to once again go into the river next to the camp, wanting to wash off any grime that may have rubbed on you from the last battle the Links went through before you guys left for the next village.
A little ways down in the same river, you knew the other men were washing themselves, that way, a scream would be all they needed know to come over to help you, should anything happen.
Not that anything had ever happened to you while you were bathing.
You kind of felt like you were being watched, but then again, you learned to not pay attention to that, after all, your brain always seemed to like playing tricks on you, be it making you think you saw the shadows in the corner of your eye moving, or strange noises coming from bushes, all of which always proved to be absolutely nothing at all. Especially the strangely distinctive smell of Time rubbing off on your clothes...
Besides, whenever you looked around yourself to see if your senses were correct, you'd only be able to hear the calm silence of the river waters, almost as if the fish itself held back from swimming every time you tensed up.
The regular calming ambiance noises returned when you finally stopped being paranoid, going back to washing yourself with a relieved sigh, knowing the feeling of being watched was just a product of your tricky mind.
Sound doesn't travel much underwater. Should it be sounds of heavy breathing, sounds of something much larger than the river fish swimming, or even the heavy sounds of metal boots sinking into the sandy floor of the river with every step their wearer took.
Time observed with certain amusement as you walked around the shallow part of the river, your head just above the surface, your feet dangling dangerously near the deeper part. One wrong step and you could risk drowning.  
However, you seemed to be having fun while cleaning yourself, enjoying the cool, clean water. The elder, though, was having his own fun watching you.
He had to give it to you though, no matter what you did, your movements were always so captivating to him. He had already seen a lot in his life, many races, creatures and even monsters. Yet you had such a… Human way of behaving. Even if humans were so alike hylians, you still seemed different in a way, a very good way in his eyes.
What was even more interesting to him was the fact that you were still different from the other humans he'd met through his life.
More often than not your actions were unpredictable and random, not at all serious, it was like you somehow weren't very phased after getting kicked out of whatever universe you originally belonged in and into another. An universe that was extremely dangerous and distinct from yours. His universe.
You were very, very far from your home, yet he could still see some of it in the way you spoke, behaved and reacted to the things and beings around you.
Sometimes, he'd catch himself becoming infatuated again with the stuff that he was already used to, simply because you seemed so surprised and excited by them. 
Things he saw in his everyday life and just happened to ignore. Places, people, animals, creatures, plants, you name it. You gave him a renewed view of life, the whole "enjoy the small things in life" a concept so simple that still managed to make him feel truly alive again.
When he was with you he felt like Hylia and the Golden Goddesses themselves were paying him back for all heroic deeds he performed. In his eyes, you saved him.
In no time, watching the stars with you became a new routine, you were always so interested in them, yet still didn't seem to mind when he preferred to do something else, as to avoid looking at the moon.
Therefore, counting and catching fireflies was the next best thing.
And before he even noticed, he had bought an extra satchel at the market just so he could collect and buy those things that reminded him of you, things he noticed you pointing out whenever you saw. Pretty rocks, shiny crystals, colorful shells, and even those silly little trinkets that, in his eyes were useless, yet brought happiness to yours.
You'd even managed to make him blush the other day, when you told him he was acting like a cat, placing gifts by your bedroll at night, while you were asleep.
Yes, you made him blush. Him, The elder, The Hero Of Time that was also The leader their group, a group made up of the strongest men known in the history of Hyrule.
But, in a way, you were actually correct. 
Cats are very attached to their favorite person, enough to follow them around and watch them do the most simple things, like sleeping, or bathing.
He didn't feel like admitting to those things though, especially not to stealing your clothes.
At first, he assured himself that he was doing all that watching just to make sure you were safe, after all, bathing time was the only moment of the day when you were “fully alone” or so you thought. Time would never forgive himself if you accidentally got hurt because of his lack of attention to you, even if the “hurt” in question was merely a scratch on your knee from accidentally slipping while bathing.
He knew better than anyone that too much peace meant something bad could happen at any time, and too little peace was even worse! Therefore, there was no middle ground, you needed to be protected at all times. And the fact he also got a little fun out of guarding you didn't hurt anyone. After all, what the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel.
He didn't even try lying to himself about stealing your clothes, he wasn't that delusional, after all, liking your smell didn't sound like too good of an excuse to tell you, should you find out about that little habit of his.
In a way, he wasn't even hidden right now, per say, he was just not in plain view. 
In fact, sometimes even hoped you saw him, so that he'd be able to stop just watching and join you already.
After all, you wouldn't be able to get hurt if he was right there beside you, right?
Let him keep pretending that's the only reason he wanted to join you in the bath.
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b-o-e · 1 year
Text
cookies
Howdy Pillar x Reader
Warnings: tickling aghahbg, howdy uses his many hands for evil lol, kissy kissy fluff yuhhh, I was gonna scrap this fic n don't wanna look at it anymore so it may have mistakes lol
You and Howdy bake a batch of cookies together, and it is quickly learned how impatient you are.
“And there we are!” 
Howdy placed the sheet of cookies on the stove top, shutting the oven. Two hands rested on his hips, the other pair crossed over his chest, puffed with pride.
 “They look perfect!” He grinned. “Surely because of your help, of course!” He hummed, nudging you gently as you ogled the freshly baked treats.
“They smell so good,” is all you could utter. 
You were so tempted just to grab one of the ooey-gooey pastries, despite the fact it would more likely than not immediately fall apart. Howdy could sense this oozing desire.
“Now, don’t go burning yourself. I know that look of temptation in your eye,” 
Your gaze met his, your eyes widened slightly in surprise. You flashed a sheepish smile, slumping.
“They just look so tasty…” you sighed dreamily, eyes returning to your awaiting prize. The two of you had put so much work into making them. Howdy made a great mixer with all those arms! Made for easy cleanup, too!) How could you not want to test a sample?
“They’re not quite ready yet. Just a little longer, bug,” he assured, watching your hands clench in and out of fists with resistance, finding it to be nothing less than amusing. 
“No touching, okay? I’m just going to run these eggs we borrowed back to Sally, then I’ll be right back!” one of Howdy’s hands set on your back as he moved around you to grab the carton. 
“No touch,” he pointed a finger at you, squinting playfully as the others rested on his hips. He repeated, “I’ll be right back. I’m sure they’ll be cooled by then. Just wait for me,”
“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up!” You laughed, pushing him along towards the door. 
With a final promise he would return quickly, Howdy was off, leaving you and the cookies alone. Unsupervised…
And man, it was tempting. It really, truly was. You looked over your shoulder at your foe on the stove, glaring. You’ll be mine soon…
You stole a glimpse at the clock, exhaling dramatically. The two of you had already tidied up your mess while waiting for the timer, so what were you to do now? Admire your wondrous creations from afar?
Unable to come up with anything else, that’s quite precisely what you did. 
Your elbows rested on the countertop, chin on top of your hands. The sweet aroma wafted through the house, a gentle breeze flowing in from the open window.
Tick, tock, tick, tock 
The steady click of the clock made time feel like it was moving extra slow. Each second dragged on for what felt like an eternity. Huh. You had less self control than you thought…
Your fingers drummed against the counter. Your toes tapped against the floor. Your eyes darted between the cookies and clock again. Come on, Howdy, what was taking so long?
Another hefty sigh escaped you. A look at the clock, a look at the cookies. Just one couldn’t hurt, right? It was Howdy’s fault you were waiting an eternity!
Despite the slight pit of guilt in your belly, you reached toward the sheet, knowing the satisfaction of the cookie would fill that pit right up. Finally, it was yours!
A hand grasped your wrist, an arm looping your waist.
“Ah-ah-ah,” 
 Whelp, spoke too soon. You tried!
“What do you think you’re doing, you little stink bug?” Howdy hummed, amusement dripping from his tone as he turned you around to face him. Ah. Trapped between him and the counter. Not a good place to be for what you reckoned the consequences to your actions would be
“Come on!” You drew out, giving a pleading pout. “You were taking so long!” 
Please let you be spared, please let you be spared… it didn’t look too promising with the quirk of his brow and smirk he wore.
“I was barely gone five minutes!” He cackled with mirth. “And you know how I feel about thieves,” 
That smirk seemed much more threatening all of a sudden.
“No.” You eyed him warily, knowing exactly what was to come. “Don’t you dare,”
“I think you deserve some form of punishment,” he shrugged with a grin. His upper set of hands had taken yours into his grasp…
“Howdy…” You attempted to reason. “Please!”
No chance.
His fingers glided along your sides, digging into the carefully. You laughed and squirmed, begging for him to stop.
“You need to learn your lesson somehow!” He chuckled, pausing his attack to give you a chance to own up to your actions. “Will you try to defy me again?”
You only giggled, body twisting away with what you knew would come after your response. 
“You’re asking for quite a lot there, mister…” You really weren't doing yourself any favours, were you?
His fingers returned to their attack, poking and jutting into your sides.
“Okay, okay, okay! I yield!” You cackled, the pitch to your voice fluctuating. To your pleas, Howdy paused.
“Have you learned?” He eyed you warily.
“Yes,” you panted out with a grin. “Yes, I have learned.”
“Well, I think you owe me an apology,” he said, “some compensation, you know?” He smiled innocently, earning a roll of your eyes. His hands had found your waist, the two that had trapped your hands trailing to rest on your sides.
“Yeah, yeah. Close your eyes, there, big guy,” you played along, a hand cupping his face. Once his eyes were closed, though, you made your move.
Your free hand snuck to the stove top, snatching up a treat.
“Mm,” you hummed in delight as you took a bite, 
“Why, you deceiving little–”
“Have a taste!” you grinned, pulling him in for the smooch you knew he desired. It took him by surprise, but he was not opposed. 
When you pulled away, you snickered softly at the shock on his features.
“We did pretty good, right?” You flashed an innocent smile, taking another bite.
“I’ll forgive you this time,” he grumbled, cheeks pink and a playful glare on his face. “But you’re a little scoundrel sometimes, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
howdy!! I hope you liked this lil oneshot B) this is just something to fill in some space so I can hopefully have some more time to try to get ahead again on wally stuff. I was going to scrap this fic, its been in my docs for like a week and a half or two, n I'm not the biggest fan, but maybe I've looked at it for too long. I'm not sure if I'll write for howdy again, this may be all I've got in me for him, but I hope you enjoyed it B) here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me!
likes and reblogs are extremely appreciated!! DOPAMINE!!! RAGGGHHH!!
Posted Thursday, May 4, 2023, at 12:06 PM
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