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#does this count as a valentines day piece??
covetyou · 2 months
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stupid cupid
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected P in V, a few ass slaps, sex toys (butt plug and a dp dildo), anal play, anal sex (with a dildo), double penetration, creampie, vague fluff and emerging feelings (gross), the wings stay ON. word count: 5.2k summary: Joel makes a return to your home, this time with another gift to give. Will you be his Valentine?
A/N: he's here. he's back. baubles joel, big bawl joel, the holiday king himself. and yes, yet again something that probably shouldn't be a series is becoming a loose-fit series because I just can't quit.
I guess you can all be my Valentine's if you'd like and we can smooch and hold hands and stuff, idk (I love you 💛) gorgeous V day divider by @saradika-graphics
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You didn't expect to scream the moment you entered your bedroom after a long day at work.
Of course, you had wanted to scream all day. First, when you spent the morning fighting with a piece of software that just did not want to work. Then, when you watched your colleagues trickle out of the building well before 5pm, all on their way to romantic dates, while you were stuck in your seat making up for your - and their - lost time this morning. And when you finally stumbled from the building at 8pm, only to sit in traffic for another fucking hour? You may just have let a furious squeal escape your throat as you gripped the steering wheel.
As you finally pulled into your driveway, the only things on your mind were a hot shower and takeout food.
The first part had gone without a hitch. Mostly.
Stripping off your work clothes before you'd even got to the bathroom, you hadn't noticed a single thing different about your home. As you tossed your clothes into the hamper, nothing was amiss. Stepping under the hot stream of water, you felt totally at peace for the first time that day. There was a kind of serenity to be found in your own bathroom that didn't exist anywhere else. No, nothing was unusual at all.
And then you'd loosely wrapped a towel around you, not bothering to dry yourself, and crossed the short distance across the hall to your bedroom. You weren't to know you never closed the door this morning when you left - that was 14 hours ago, afterall. Sunset had long since been and gone, so how were you to see anything, or anyone, where it shouldn't be until you sleepily flicked the light on after closing the door behind you.
So, naturally, when your brain finally registered DANGER - INTRUDER you screamed, almost dropping your towel in the process.
And that's where you still are, locked to the spot, fight or flight truly fucking off from your mind entirely, as you stare straight ahead.
There's a man on your bed. A very familiar man. His hulking figure splayed across it like some kind of fucking renaissance painting, naked as the day he was born, except for the fairy wings strapped to his back with elastic and... is that a bow and arrow? And a pacifier?
"Santa Joel?"
Joel rolls his eyes, pulling the pacifier from his mouth with a pop.
"I ain't Santa. Does this look like Santa to you?" he says, with a sweeping broad gesture down his body. He decidedly does not look like Santa. You're not sure what he looks like, and you're not sure you care when you can't help but notice he's at half mast already. Dragging your eyes from his crotch, you look at his face, somehow sweet and angelic even with his dick out.
"Okay, well... what are you?"
Looking at you in disbelief, he slaps the pacifier down onto the bed before swinging his legs over the edge to sit upright. Only, now you're not so sure it's a pacifier. It looks like a - but why was he sucking on it?
"Ain't it Valentine's Day? I'm Cupid, stupid."
"Cupid Joel?"
"Cupid Joel. It really that difficult to work out?" With a lopsided grin he picks up the bow, miming shooting you, before resting his elbows on his knees. The soft trickle of water down your body feels more and more like you're melting by the second. A practical stranger like Joel shouldn't have been able to do this to you the first time, but the fact he was here again, charming and suave, despite the nudity and criminal activity, told you all you needed to know. You were painfully and woefully attracted to him and you would do just about anything to have a night with him again.
"Well, Cupid Joel, you broke into my house. Again."
He ignores you, lounging back on your bed and spreading his knees wide, picking up the - yep, that's definitely a butt plug - again and sucking it into his mouth. Removing it with a flourish, he looks you up and down, a question in his eyes before looking to his own cock, now much harder than it was a moment ago.
"Different guy, you said that was Santa Joel." You can see him holding back a laugh, and you'd be tempted to wipe the smirk from his face if you weren't rooted to the spot. "Anyway, that guy told me he didn't see any pictures when he was here, guessed you didn't have a Valentine. Figure everyone deserves some lovin' on the big day," he says with a shrug and a quirk of his mouth. "So, here I am. Your very own Cupid, if you'll have me, 'course. Don't gotta stay, I can leave if you want me to."
You didn't want him to leave. He'd broken into your house again, and you were exhausted, but seeing him lie there, naked in your bed with the evidence of his little dress up game strewn around him, stirred things in you. If he was willing to give you some lovin' then who were you to turn that down. You're only human, after all, and it is Valentine's Day.
So, you do the only logical thing in that moment and drop your towel without another thought.
"'Atta girl," Joel chuckles patting the bed beside him. "C'mere, got you a present."
Incredible, if slightly strange, sex with a stranger, and he bought you a present? Suddenly the day isn't feeling quite as shit as it was an hour ago, and damp and naked, you approach your bed. You're close enough to him now that you can smell him again, that soft oaky smell throwing you back to the twinkling lights of Christmas Eve. You didn't know any more about him now than you did that night, really. Though, truth be told, you hadn't tried too hard to find him. You had a good time, and the soft lit fantasy of Santa Joel was something you enjoyed exactly as it was. Unveil the man, and you threatened to ruin that fantasy. But a night with Cupid Joel? That could be a new fantasy altogether.
"S'not Christmas any more, don't remember ever having to sit on Cupid's knee to get a Valentine," you murmur, sitting back on your heels as Joel's large hand slides up your thigh. You watch as it moves from your knee to your hip and back again, fingers gently teasing your sensitive inner thigh on the way down. The only hands that had touched you since Christmas were your own, though you had spent night after night imagining his all over you. You were starting to think you'd fallen asleep at the wheel and this was all some wonderful stress dream.
But then he presses a soft kiss to your knee, the scratch of his facial hair rubbing just enough to let you know this is all very, very real and you'd very much like more of it.
"Ain't gonna make you sit on my knee for it. Might want you to sit on somethin' else though."
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Real smooth, Cupid."
And then he's smiling up at you as he leans forward to kiss your thigh, then your belly, pushing you back with one large hand until you're laying beneath him, spread bare and open as he makes his way back down to your thighs.
It's so easy to get lost in it. The soft scratch of the scruff on his chin, rough fingertips moving gently across your thighs, soft lips pressing and sucking delicately on you, catching the last specks of water from your skin with each pass of his mouth. Your eyes drift closed just as his breath ghosts across your mound, another soft kiss soon following, and another, and another.
Until, blissfully, his soft mouth connects with your clit, tongue peaking out to swipe across the sensitive bud. It had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, long before you made the move to Texas last year, you'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Stuttering for a while, you're about to feebly mumble how good it feels, but all thoughts grind to a halt when he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning before softly releasing. You had never had a man moan eating your cunt before, and now here you were, fairly certain angels were real and you'd gone to heaven, taken there by Cupid Joel and his wings.
"You always this late home, or did you have a date that went to shit?" he mumbles around your clit. It's a small sneaky way that he asks, wanting clarification on something he was almost certain of but you had yet to confirm. There were no pictures in your house, but that didn't mean there wasn't anyone in the picture.
Shaking your head, you gasp out a response. "Work - work went to shit. Ohh."
"Bad day?"
"Yeah, it - fuck, Joel."
It's then that you take your first opportunity to look down and see him between your legs. His hair looks even fluffier, his hands pushing your thighs open while his fingers pull you apart at the seams. His eyes closed, lashes fanned against his cheek, tongue softly lapping against your center, gusts of his hot breath billowing against your mound. He's beautiful.
And he's still in the fucking fairy wings.
A laugh primes itself, ready to explode out of you, but another firm lick sends you reeling, head hitting the mattress with a thud. Whatever he's doing to you, whatever this fucking day has done to you, you're going to come, and fast.
"Cu-Cupid Joel. Don't fucking stop."
Joel stops mid-lick, earning a frustrated moan from you, eyes widening from where he looks up between your thighs. "Already?" he asks in disbelief, noticing how quickly your legs and cunt have started to twitch.
"Stupid fucking cupid, don't stop, please."
His mouth finds your clit again and he's devouring you, lapping quickly against your cunt as your squirm into him, hips rocking your cunt against his tongue. Another day you'll wonder if it was his tongue or your movement that got you there, but right now all you know is the thick syrupy feeling in your veins as an orgasm quickly rockets through you, a strangled moan leaving your throat as you fist your sheets in your hands. You've muffled him, your thighs clamping around his head as he pushes further forward, tongue buried in your folds until you can't take it any more and you're desperately pulling away from him.
When you release your grip on his head, he gasps, cursing into the plushness of your thighs. Sitting up, he looks down at you, the bedroom light illuminating him from behind, making the wings glow on his back like your very own heavenly creature.
"Wanna see your present now?"
The fog in your head has barely cleared, your ears still fuzzy as you take in his words. Somehow a tongue on your pussy wasn't your Valentine's gift from Cupid?
"Wha - that wasn't it?"
"Nope."
"Is that it," you say, letting a thread of hope feed into your voice while you nod to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs.
"Not exactly, but you can have that too if you want it, darlin'."
You don't know what you expect, but Joel reaches over and picks the butt plug from where he'd discarded it on your bed earlier, and holds it out to you.
"Don't know if you're into it but," he holds the plug out to you, base first. The pink glass looks so delicate in his fingers, and it takes a twist of his hand for you to see it, but the heart shaped base of the plug soon becomes clear to you, brain foggy as it is, and you laugh, the sound bubbling out of your lips as your head tips back, laughing so hard you can feel your tits shake.
"You had that in your mouth."
Joel shrugs. "Better now than after it's been in your ass."
"Why're you so sure it's goin' into my ass?"
Got him, flashes through your mind when you watch his face drop. You don't let him suffer for long.
"I'm fucking with you. You're tellin' me you broke into my house but didn't go through my shit? I got three in the drawer over there."
"Three?!" he says in faux shock, rolling you over onto your front and grabbing at your ass cheeks. He pulls them apart, the cool glass in his hand pushing into your cheek as he tugs you open.
You shriek, swatting behind you as you laugh again. "Joel- what the fuck are you doing!?"
"Checkin' where you keep these three assholes."
"I'm lookin' at one asshole right now."
Now it's his turn to laugh, a deep rich sound that has your toes curling and your pulse sky rocketing, pulling you out of it with a gasp when he slaps a hand down on your ass only to watch it ripple with the impact.
"So, do you want it in?"
"Mhm, I have lube in the bedside table."
A rummage later, you wait, kicking your feet in the air, resting your chin in the cup of your palm. When he turns again, he sees you waving your ass from side to side, ready for him. Slick is coating your pussy, your upper thighs glossy with it too.
"That a present all for me?"
Pulling your cheeks apart again, he kisses each one, lightly nipping on the soft flesh as he does. And then, without much warning, he burries his tongue between your spread legs, licking a thick stripe from your clit to your asshole, groaning with every lick over your tight ring. Fisting the sheets, you press your face into the mattress. If he's going to keep doing this before he even fucks you, you're going to come again and fall asleep before he can get inside you.
"I thought this was a present for me, you're acting mighty excited back there."
"It is. Never said I wouldn't get anythin' outta it though."
A cool trickle of lube drizzles into your crack, quickly spread by Joel's large finger. He teases for a moment, circling your tight hole a little before gently pushing in.
"Fuck."
Moaning in agreement, you almost speak to agree, but then his finger is gently fucking your asshole and all words fail you. Coming just a moment ago did nothing to stop the need you had for this man, the feeling in your core growing tenfold as each moment passed.
"Fuck, Joel, put it in my ass and fuck me already."
The strangled noise from behind you startles you, and you look back for a second to see Joel's eyes pinched together and his head thrown back as his hand grips tightly around the base of his cock, wings falling forward over his shoulders as he desperately tries to relax himself.
"You can't say shit like that to me, darlin'."
"Then stick it in me, stupid."
Fingers slick with lube, he strokes the plug, before sliding the cold tip across your hole.
"Wanted go slow. Wanna watch you take it."
With a soft push, he presses the tip forward, watching as your hole accepts the cold tip with ease. This was always something you loved, even playing with your plugs by yourself when the feeling took you. It had been too long since anyone else had played with your ass, and you can't say you were too mad about Joel being the first to touch you there in so long.
The stretch is soft, and soon the bulb of the head pushes past your tight ring, making Joel hiss behind you as he watches you take it. He fucks you with it once, then twice, before pushing firmly, letting your ass take the entire length of the plug. Twisting it, he sits the heart upright, before leaning forward to kiss it. It's not often you get a man's face buried in your ass so, figuring it's karmic justice for the species, you push back into him, holding back a laugh when a small oomph escapes his lips when your ass collides with his face.
"Gonna tell Santa Joel you did that. No nice list for you."
"Then if I'm already on the naughty list, fuck me already. You promised me lovin'."
Wiggling your ass, you arch your back to expose your pussy to him even more. He hasn't so much as put a finger in you yet, and part of you is glad for it. You want to feel his cock pull you apart as it fills you, pushing past the ridge of the plug lodged in your ass. You want to feel stretched and full and ruined.
Joel seems to be on the same page, shuffling forward, dick in hand, sliding the tip through your slick folds. Catching on your entrance, he runs the tip of his dick across the plug where it's nestled inside you before pushing down, slipping into your empty hole.
And fuck is it tight. If it feels this good for you, the half-filled and stretched wide feeling of his cock in one hole and the plug in the other, you wonder how it must feel on his dick. You're wet, dripping really, soaking his cock and letting him in with ease, but there's the solid lump of the plug dragging along the top side of his cock as he pushes in.
Deciding he's going too fucking slow, too tentative when all you want is to be filled, you push back. In one swift rock you take him to the root, gasping and hitting the bed with your fists as he bottoms out, his own fingers digging into you flesh harshly.
"Sh-fuck, fuck."
Stopping, you almost pull away, worried you might have hurt him, but his grip stops you. Before you can turn or question him, he's pulling back, slamming in hard again, groaning when you take him completely.
If Santa Joel destroyed you, Cupid Joel is going to wreck you entirely. And you welcome it.
He's fucking you steadily in no time, relishing in the sound of your moans getting higher and higher in pitch with each pound.
Your knees buckle first, planting you face first in your sheets. Joel tries to pull you up, but his own knees are slipping, dragged down by the grip of your cunt on his cock. Giving in, he crowds over you, pumping deep into you despite the tangle of limbs you've became in the last few seconds. Somewhere in the scuffle you've kicked the bow and arrow, listening as they clatter to the floor just as tangled as the two of you are.
He's warm, and sweaty, and heavy above you, holding just enough of his weight on his elbows to let you breathe. Making a few more shallow thrusts, he suddenly stills, nose breathing deep into your hair.
"Shit. Can't come yet. I got one more surprise for you," he pants into your ear, offering you a soft kiss to your shoulder before his weight shifts.
You want to grab him and hold him to you, beg him to come in you already, but he has other ideas and he's pulling out before you can grab him. "Ugh."
"Gimme a sec," he grunts from behind you. "Can't - hmfph - get it over - god damn it - my balls. There. Got it. Snug but, damn, look at that."
Looking behind you, you watch as he sways from side to side, looking down where his cock bobs between his legs. He's mesmerized, and soon so are you.
He's strapped another cock just below his own, the tapered black dildo just shorter than he is. It sits flush to his full balls, anchored to them by a thick ring, another wrapped around his length. Even with the sounds of his struggle, you're amazed he got it on so quickly.
"Don't have to take both but," and he shrugs - fucking shrugs all coy and uncertain as if he hasn't reached into the depths of your brain and pulled out your most desperate fantasy of taking two cocks at once.
"Didn't wanna spook you, but given you like gettin' your asshole played with," he says with a press to the plug still sat in your ass. "Worth finding out if you're into ass fuckin' too."
You were. Fuck yes, you were. You had your own collection of toys and plugs for a reason, but it had been a criminally long time since anyone had really fucked you there. Other than Joel, it had been a criminally long time since anyone had fucked you anywhere.
"If I say yes, what else are you gonna pull out from back there? You got a bag of tricks around here somewhere."
Joel gives you a toothy grin, stroking his hand over his slicked cock before sliding two fingers straight into you. "Tool bag is downstairs, but ain't got anythin' in there I'd like to put in here darlin', don't worry."
Fingers slipping slick and wet inside you, pressing firmly upward with help of the plug still lodged in your ass, you're rendered speechless again. Reaching out for him you hold his hand in place, fucking yourself on his fingers for a moment before reaching further toward him.
Joel gasps when your hand gently cups around his balls, the thick rings of the toy strapped around them making them seem even fuller with the press of the dildo into them. You roll reach one beneath your fingers, catching the dark look in his eyes.
"You like 'em, huh? Know you liked havin' 'em in here."
"Fuck. Thought about it so much since. Dreamed of you coming back to fuck me with them again."
"Tsk, ain't disappointing you, am I?"
"Joel, you have two cocks and you're threatening me with a good time. You couldn't disappoint me right now even if you tried. And you broke into my house. Again. Now, if you don't fuck my ass with either of the cocks you have there soon I'm going to do it myself," you say, fingers stilling on his balls, before you think again and add, "Please."
"Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart. C'mon now, lemme take this out. Can put it back in this needy hole after. That's it."
It's surreal, looking up at him as he gently tugs the plug out of your ass, offering you sweet murmurs of encouragement. You know nothing about him, save for his first name and penchant for dress up games. And yet, the desire you have for him is steadily creeping upward as time ticks on. Truthfully, you didn't even really remember what he looked like when you thought about him, fingers toying with your clit as you came to memories of Christmas eve. Low light and mind melting orgasms will do that to you. All you knew was his voice and the soft filthy way he fucked you. Now, getting a proper look at him without the shield of twinkling lights and that red jacket, you can truly appreciate him. He's fit, though you suspect he's never stepped foot in a gym a day in his life. He's soft too, in the way that strong sturdy things are soft. You want nothing more than to pull him into you, to press his softness against your own as he ruts into your holes, but that's decidedly not what this is. Whatever this is, between the mild crime and fucking, it isn't that sort of soft sweet thing.
You don't know how he's going to do it, which cock is going to take which hole, but you decide you don't care when he's leaning over you to press a soft kiss to your lips. When your legs wrap around him of their own accord it's all but decided, and he takes his cock in hand - his real one - and lines up with your dripping slit, pushing in slightly before fumbling below for the other. It takes a moment - the lubed up dildo slipping from his grasp as he huffs and tries, but fails, to slot it against you. Briefly tangling your fingers with his, you take over, positioning the toy at your ass, feeling it slip in a little already as he grinds his hips forward, desperate to be balls deep in you again. With both cocks poised and ready you moan, quivering and clamping your eyes shut at merely the thought of being fucked in both holes at once.
With one more press forward, Joel slides in, the glide of lube easing the dildo into your as as his cock reclaims it's place inside your pussy.
And fuck, you have never been so full, and Joel has never fucked something so damn tight. The space his cock would normally make is taken up by the dildo, fighting for position inside of you as he rocks gently, sliding in and out of you with gradually deeper movements. The deeper he presses, the more desperate your moans become, and you catch the hesitation in his face before he can move.
"Don't you fuckin' dare stop."
This time he doesn't, wordlessly pushing into you and filling both your holes to the brim as sweat trickles down his face. You want to lick it off him, to sink your nails into his back, wings be damned, to lick the salt from his skin and bite down into the the firm flesh at his neck. But the only thing you can do before he's fucking you in earnest is grab hold, careful to avoid snapping the elastic of his wings against his shoulders as he pounds forward. There's no candlelight and rose petals here, just the raw sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts heaving into the air as you pull yourselves into each other.
"Tell me how it feels," you rasp into his ear, watching the flap of wings over his shoulder. "Tell me how it feels fucking me with both of your cocks."
"Oh, shit, it's good. So good, baby. Someone's definitely goin' on the naughty list next Christmas. You likin' this? You likin' being fucking in the ass and pussy?"
A frantic nod is all you can manage as he starts hitting a spot in you you didn't know existed, building pressure in your cunt like never before.
"I know. You're just so full, ain't you. Take two dicks so well. Pulling me in so good."
Hoisting your legs over Joel hips, you grip around him, a loud moan bursting out of your chest as he fucks back down, deeper now at the new angle. This is it. This is how you die, you're sure of it.
"How close - How close are you. I think I'm gonna - fuck - die -AH!"
He stops grunting for a moment to force out a breathless "Am I hurtin'?"
It only takes one look at you for Joel to realize he's not hurting you at all. There you are, fucked all the way to oblivion and back, a chorus of angels screaming in your ears with each snap of his hips. You're going to come again, clit untouched and holes filled, a way you've never managed to before. You don't even know how it's happening, all you know is that suddenly your soul feels like it's being pulled straight from your bones, through the middle of you and out through your cunt and asshole at the hands of Cupid Joel himself. And then you're gushing, mind and pussy totally detached as you come, soaking his cock and your sheets.
"Yeah that's it," he grunts, his weight surrounding you once more as he pushes into your spasming holes over and over, chasing his own release. If it wasn't for the damn tight rings around his cock and balls he would've come already, but your moans in his ear and your fingers gripping his shoulders spur him forward.
"Joel."
"Gonna come. Gonna fuckin' - uh - come in your tight fuckin' pussy."
"Yes, yes, come in me, please, I can't, I'm gonna -"
Joel stiffens, hips stuttering as he gives you a few hard, shallow thrusts, before he explodes inside you, groaning so loud it makes your ears ring and cunt make one last attempt to clench around him. As much as you soaked him, he's just filled your cunt, cum pushing deep inside you with each spurt, locked in place by the fullness of the two cocks inside you. You collapse back, your ears still ringing and your limbs feeling soft and heavy.
This time you're certain black out for a moment.
But when you peel open your eyes, Cupid Joel is above you again, halo'd by the bright yellow light on your bedroom ceiling. His hair is damp, wet even, from sweat, a bead trickling down his neck and glittering in the light. And in his eyes there's concern, a worried pinch in his brow as he searches your face.
"You passed out -"
"- You're still here."
He rolls his eyes. "Way to make a guy feel special, sweetheart," he says with a cocky smile. "Just checkin' on you, but I can get goin' as long as you're okay."
You nood, the movement feeling as slurred as your speech. "You left. Last time. Saw you walkin'. Jus' wonderin'."
"Wait... you saw that? Shit, I thought you were asleep."
"No, wasn't 'sleep."
"You gonna sleep now?"
"No," you murmur with a nod, closing your eyes as you feel the last sweep of his hand down your neck, pulling a sheet over your limp form, just for you to mumble one last thing before the soft darkness takes you. "Balls... next time... please."
"You got it, darlin'."
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It's an arduous journey to the bathroom when you wake up in the dead of night, remnants of cum trickling down your legs and thighs sticking together. Quickly cleaning yourself up, you check the house for signs of him, already knowing that he's long gone. You wonder how he left this time, whether he kept the wings on, whether he still had a second cock strapped to his own as he escaped into the darkness. For all you know, your cupid could have flown away on glittered fairy wings.
And then you're crawling back into bed, takeout long forgotten, any hunger you had satisfied in a different way than you expected. Somehow there's comfort in the wat patch you curl yourself around. Cupid Joel is gone from your house, but there are still traces of him here. The cum on the sheets, the ache between your legs and, as you reach to turn the light off and let darkness take you, the butt plug on your bedside table. Between the Christmas decorations stashed in a box in your closet and this plug, you were slowly amassing pieces of a man you didn't really know - gifts from a stranger that made you feel more at home in this place you'd moved to than anything else had managed to in ten months.
Tracing the outline of the heart with your finger, you stretch and snuggle back down into bed, letting exhaustion take hold and when you dream, you dream of flying.
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proxima-writes · 2 months
Text
along for the ride
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pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader
rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)
word count:
summary: when joel finds out tommy put out a craigslist ad to get him a date for valentine’s day, he doesn’t expect it to go as well as it does.
author’s note: i finally finished something! was it anything from my extensive wip list? no! don’t think about it too hard! anyways, if you enjoy this fic, please consider giving it a reblog, a comment, or dropping into my ask box 💕
warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors dni), no use of y/n, pre-outbreak!joel miller, no mentions of sarah, little shit!tommy miller, blind date, internet safety whomst, vaginal fingering, oral sex, woman on top, p in v, dirty talk, pet names. let me know if i’ve missed any!
“I have a surprise for you,” Tommy says at dinner. Joel pauses, fork scraping against his plate.
“That can’t be good,” he sighs. “What now?”
“Why do you assume it’s somethin’ bad?”
“Last time you said you had a surprise for me, I had chickens in my backyard.”
Tommy laughs. “It’s nothin’ like that this time.”
“Well, then, spit it out,” Joel demands.
Tommy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper that he opens on the table, smoothing out the creases before sliding it over to Joel.
“Reservation confirmation?” Joel reads. He recognizes the name of the restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters dress in all black and the menu doesn’t have prices listed beside the items. 
“Yep. I got you your first Valentine’s Day date,” Tommy replies proudly. Joel glares at him.
“What do you mean?”
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seeking valentine
36M looking to treat a lady to a date to remember. pic attached. email [email protected] with a pic and bio for consideration.
[img01.jpg]
You’re half a bottle of wine deep when you stumble across the Craigslist ad. When you click on the picture, your interest is further piqued by the handsome man that appears on the screen. He’s standing in front of a black pick up truck dressed in jeans and a t-shirt that stretches across his tan muscles. His brown hair is cut short, just enough length for you to notice that it’s beginning to curl across his forehead and by his neck. His beard frames a bright smile that crinkles the corners of his dark eyes.
Whoever he is, he’s hot. He’d be the perfect way to get over being dumped two weeks ago by your boyfriend of two years.
Your logic was lost somewhere between your second and third glasses of wine, which is why you click on the e-mail address in the ad and start typing. The reply is normal, at first, facts about yourself like your name and age and occupation, but you quickly end up derailing the message with an explanation about why this handsome guy should pick you, making sure to include that you’ve already got a reservation at a popular restaurant for the occasion. The picture you add is a recent photo from a cousin’s wedding that your aunt had e-mailed to you. 
Before you can think better of it, you click send. You take one last look at the man’s photo before shutting your laptop and stumbling off to bed to dream of brown eyes and tan skin.
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Joel taps his fingers against the white tablecloth, eyes fixed on the door of the restaurant. This is stupid, he thinks. Why did he agree to this? Why did he let Tommy convince him this was a good idea? He should have just told him no and been done with it but somehow he’s here, sitting at a table for two in a fancy restaurant and feeling like a sore thumb in the only suit he owns. 
He’s lost enough in his thoughts that he doesn’t see you when you first come in, doesn’t realize you’re here until the hostess is walking up with you close behind in a beautiful dress and he suddenly remembers exactly why he agreed to Tommy’s idiot scheme. 
“Joel?” You ask. He stands, nearly knocking the table in his haste to greet you. You lean in for a brief hug and he catches the warm vanilla scent of you before you pull away and smile at him. 
He rounds the table to pull your chair out for you and makes sure you’re settled before returning to his seat. A waiter swoops by to offer the wine menu and explain the pre fixe menu for the evening while he pours two complimentary glasses of champagne into the crystal glasses beside your plates. An awkward silence settles when he leaves, Joel’s leg bouncing anxiously beneath the table as he tries to think of something to say.
“This is weird, right?” You finally say. “This feels weird.”
Joel breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s just what I was thinkin’.”
"Oh, thank god." You take a long sip of your champagne. "I can't believe I actually responded to a Craigslist ad for a date."
"I can't believe my stupid brother came up with this whole thing," Joel replies. "I could'a killed him."
Your eyes go wide. "Wait, your brother made the post? Why?!"
"He seems to think that at thirty-six, I should have had a date for Valentine's Day by now," Joel explains. "Why did you respond to the ad?"
"I had been drinking a lot of wine and having a lot of feelings and the internet was unfortunately not helping the situation."
Joel laughs, tension leaving his shoulders as he does. "We're an interestin' pair, huh?"
"Cheers to that," you reply, lifting your glass for him to tap his against with a gentle clink. 
As the dinner progresses, the conversation starts to flow with surprising ease. No topic goes untouched, from jobs to hobbies to a long list of favorites. When you’ve exhausted those topics, you move on to swapping stories about your friends and families. By the time he finishes paying a hefty check (and declining your offer to split the cost), Joel feels like he’s known you for a lifetime.
"I had a really nice time, Joel.”
"Me, too," he replies. Christ, you're pretty, bright eyed as you look at him with a soft smile. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer until your chest brushes his and can wrap an arm around your waist. "This okay?"
"Mhm," you hum with a little nod. Joel's gaze drops to your mouth and he finds himself wondering what your pretty lips would feel like as he kissed you. Would he be able to taste that chocolate torte from dessert on your tongue?
“Joel?” You whisper. He didn’t even realize how close he’s gotten, a few scant inches separating you now. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”
He chuckles. “You want me to?”
“Please.”
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Joel kisses you, warm lips moving in perfect harmony with yours. It’s chaste, until it’s not. It’s chaste, until his tongue sweeps against your bottom lip and dips inside to tangle with yours. It’s chaste, until his hands are pulling you closer with a tight grip on your hips and—
“Get a room!” 
You break apart, startled by the shout from someone passing by on the sidewalk. You can’t stop the laugh that breaks free, your shoulders shaking with the force of it.
“You wanna get out of here?” Joel asks. “I can walk you to your car.”
“I took a cab, actually.”
Joel smirks. “You want a ride, sweetheart?” 
Your face grows hot from the look in his eyes, the double meaning to his words not lost. He holds a hand out and you slip your palm against his, fingers folding together so that he can lead you to the parking lot down the street from the restaurant.
Joel opens the passenger door of the truck you recognize from the photo in the ad, helping you step up into the cab and going so far as to pull the seatbelt down, reaching across your body to fasten it. He looks up at as he pulls away, hand dragging across your stomach and making you shiver.
He shuts the door and gets in the driver’s seat, pulling out of the parking lot and following your directions toward your apartment. At the first red light, he settles his broad palm on your thigh, just above your knee, giving you a little squeeze. Feeling bold, you spread your legs the tiniest bit and Joel takes the invitation for what it is, sliding his hand higher. 
The light turns green and the sudden movement presses you to the back of the seat, jostles you enough that your legs fall open further. You move to close them, but Joel’s hand moves again, high enough now that if you moved the slightest bit, you could probably get some relief from the ache that’s been building since he kissed you.
His pinky stretches, barely grazing your pussy, but it makes you gasp nonetheless, squirming in your seat from the want. At the next red light, he abandons all pretense, slipping his hand beneath the elastic of your panties and dragging his fingers through the embarrassing amount of wetness that’s already gathered there for him.
“Fuck,” he groans. You turn your head to look at him, his sharp jaw clenched tight as he circles your clit with his index and middle finger. “This wet for me already, baby?”
You moan in response, unable to form words as he touches you, alternating between soft strokes and fast circles over your sensitive clit. Your hips chase his every movement, desperate for relief from the pressure building in your core. 
“Joel,” you whimper, grabbing his forearm, digging your nails into the muscle. Your eyes squeeze shut against the overwhelming sensations.
He turns the truck and hastily throws it in park, pulling his hand from you just as you were cresting that wave. You whine at the loss but he shushes you, undoing your seatbelt and getting out of the truck with a slam of the door. It takes you a second to realize he’s stopped because you’ve reached your apartment complex.
The passenger door opens and Joel is there, gripping the door tightly. “Let’s go.”
You lead him to your door on unsteady legs. He follows you inside your apartment, pressed close to your back while you set your bag on the table by the door. 
“Where’s your room?” He asks, hands already rucking up the fabric of your dress. “I gotta finish what I started.”
You hurry down the hall to your room together and you silently thank your past self for cleaning up before your date. Joel wastes no time reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head and tossing it into a heap on the floor.
“Fuck, even prettier than I imagined,” he groans, dropping to his knees. “Soon as you walked in wearin’ that I knew I was a goner.” He eases your panties down your thighs, helps you step out of them without toppling over. “On the bed.”
You obey without hesitation, crawling across your familiar mattress and lying on your back, head on your pile of pillows. Joel removes his suit jacket, eyes dark as his gaze roams across your body and makes your skin prickle under the intensity. His shirt and pants follow in quick succession, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs that highlight an impressive bulge.
Joel joins you on the bed and you’re hypnotized by the movement of muscle beneath tan skin. He urges your legs apart, calves draped over his broad shoulders to give him room to settle between your thighs. He looks up at you, holding your gaze as he takes his first taste of you with a deep groan you feel through your whole body. 
Your head drops back to your pillow with a shout, legs tensing around Joel’s head. You bury your hands in his hair, holding on tight while he devours you. His tongue circles your clit before dipping down to your dripping center to curl inside of you. A thick finger follows, pressing deep and withdrawing slowly.
“You taste so fuckin’ good,” Joel says. “How’s that feel, huh?”
“So good,” you moan. “More, please, Joel.”
“Since you asked so nicely.”
He eases another finger into you, curling them along your front wall with pointed focus. That knot of release tights again, your muscles growing tense with it the longer he moves with your body. He wraps his lips around your aching clit, alternating between sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth and working it with his tongue until you’re shouting a string of curses and shatter beneath him.
Joel works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping for breath, more puddle than human. He crawls up your body, leaving kisses on what seems like every inch of you as he does and you pull him close when he’s face to face with you, kissing him deeply and chasing the earthy taste of yourself from his mouth.
His hips press against yours, grinding his length against your inner thigh. The kiss turns sloppy, his breath coming in sharp pants and thrusts growing frantic, skin dappled with sweat in the warm air of your room. You tilt your hips, pushing a hand against his shoulder to get him flat on his back with you straddling his waist, stomach flexing beneath you.
He’s deliciously disheveled beneath you with messy hair and kiss swollen lips. His hands find your thighs, sliding upward over your stomach to find your breasts, pinching a nipple between his fingers and making you hiss. Your hips rock over the softness of his belly and you reach behind yourself to palm his cock.
“Look real good like this,” Joel pants, flexing into your touch. 
“Well, you did ask me if I wanted a ride,” you tell him. 
You lean over towards your nightstand, tugging the top drawer open and rummaging around for a condom. Foil packet in hand, you lift off of Joel for a moment to allow him the chance to hastily shove his underwear off before settling back down on top of his thighs and taking his length in your hand with a slow stroke that makes his mouth drop open, cock pulsing against your palm. You lean forward, licking the flushed tip clean of the pre-cum gathered there. 
“You’re killin’ me,” Joel says through gritted teeth. “Wanna feel you, quit teasin’.”
You decide to put you both out of your misery, ripping the condom wrapper and rolling the latex over him. You lift up and he holds his cock steady with a fist around the base as you position yourself over him on your knees and slowly take him into your tight heat, twin moans echoing in the room as you do.
When your hips are flush with his, the wiry curls at the base of his cock grow damp with your arousal as you rock above him, grinding your clit against him and clenching around his length. He holds your hips in a loose grasp, not urging your movements but feeling them as you chase your pleasure. 
“Christ,” Joel moans, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. He plants his feet, thrusting up as you grind down and making you gasp. “Ain’t lastin’ much longer, baby.”
You lean forward, changing the angle and allowing him to pound inside of you, his cock pulsing as his release nears. You’re right there with him, the drag of his cock against that sweet spot inside of you making you tip over the edge with a shout muffled into the sweat slick skin of his neck. 
He slams himself deep, cock pulsing as he spends himself into the condom inside of you. You collapse against his chest, the two of you catching your breath in the aftermath. When you roll off of Joel and onto the mattress, he’s quick to pull you back against him, your head resting on his chest.
“That was—“
“Yeah,” you interrupt breathlessly. “It was.”
After a moment, Joel quietly asks, “What now?”
“You can stay…if you want.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. “I want that.”
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Joel’s phone rings at an ungodly hour the next morning. He struggles to find his discarded pants in the dark but when he finally unearths the obnoxious device, his greeting is a snapped, “What?”
“He lives!” Tommy cheers from the other end. “It was a fifty-fifty chance you were dead or in bed.”
“What do you want, Tommy?”
“Just checkin’ to see how the date went. Must’ve been pretty good, seein’ as how I’m at your house and you’re nowhere to be found.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Fuck off,” he says. He’s about to hang up when he hears Tommy shout, “Wait!”
“What now?” Joel asks.
“Ain’t you gonna thank me?”
Joel snaps the phone shut, tossing it into the piles of clothes and crawling back into bed with you.
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Joel Miller masterlist
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astralstarlight · 2 months
Text
flattery
for jjk valentine's day 2024
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summary: he invites you to hang out (fuck) on valentine's day
word count: 3.5k+
warnings: NSFW content (under the cut!), minors DNI, fem! reader, no curses AU, fwb relationship, FINGERS IN MOUTH, sukuna bites you, sucking him off, he calls you princess + brat, he's big and a little mean but he gives you praise (and begrudgingly gives you aftercare), he likes you messy, he tries to be in control but reader's kinda bratty
divider from @/cafekitsune!
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Sukuna opens his apartment door, a look of disapproval already plastered on his face before he’s even made eye contact with you. It’s a sharp contrast to the cheeky smile you’re giving him. He doesn’t invite you in yet, merely leans against his door frame with his arms crossed, giving you a greedy once-over. Awful. A cold breeze ruffles your dress and you shiver. Tilting your head sheepishly, your hands reach down to readjust the bottom of your dress, fingers tantalisingly lingering on your upper thigh before retreating to your side. 
Sukuna’s mouth twitches at the action. “Don’t act coy.” He murmurs finally, offering a hand for you to take. 
You accept, fingers resting on his palm while you bow dramatically. “I’m so flattered that you called on me today, out of all of your maidens.” A familiar dramatism lingers throughout your form, even as your head tilts upwards to catch his reaction. 
“There isn’t a string of maidens.” He’s watching you carefully, unperturbed by your over the top attitude. He’s probably grown used to it after all this time. “You’re the only one.” 
A beat of silence. 
“The only one who sticks around as your friend, you mean.” The denial leaves your lips before you can really process what he’s even said. 
Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “If there was anyone else, you’d be the first to know.” He huffs. “Because I’ll stop calling you.” 
Your heart does an odd little skip, and you ignore it. He’s being honest, you think. You can’t really tell. Maybe he’s just messing with you. The urge to avoid whatever he’s making you feel is strong. 
You snort. “Okay, never pegged you for a liar.” You take your hand off of his palm, and squeeze past him to enter his living room. There’s a sound that sounds like frustration from Sukuna as you do so, and the door is left to slam shut as he trails after you. 
“I’m not lying.” Sukuna grabs onto your wrist, pulling you towards the couch instead of the bedroom. 
You let him, feeling a gentle heat brewing in your stomach as you remember what you’ve really shown up here for. “Huh.” You say intelligently. He really does look pretty from the back as he’s pulling you gently across the room. “You were feeling lonely or something on Valentine’s Day? Felt like you were missing out?” You tease, twirling a piece of hair around your hand with an overemphasised giggle. 
Sukuna doesn’t let you contemplate your words any further, shutting you up by pulling you into his chest and tilting your chin up so he can kiss you. “You really have a lot to say today, you know?” He mumbles against your lips, pulling back so you can see his annoyed face. A thumb immediately presses over the middle of your mouth as you open your mouth indignantly to retort. He groans, eyes closed. “Please. Just be quiet.” It almost sounds like he’s mumbling the last part to himself. 
“Make me.” 
Your eyes are bright and cheeky. Sukuna decides he wants to stamp out your bratty behaviour before you realise that you’re really getting under his skin. 
“Oh, this is how you want today to play out?” 
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You’re laughing, even as he’s roughly pulling off your clothes and pressing his lips to yours, only breaking apart briefly when you accidentally knock over one of his lamps in the midst of it. You both look at it before looking back at each other. 
A guilty look is on your face. “Oops.” But when it’s combined with that wide smile on your face, he knows you don’t really mean it. 
Sukuna chases after your lips, holding you tightly against him, kissing you again and again until you’re both a little breathless and until you’re both finally bare. He can feel you thinking about something, even as he runs his teeth up your neck. 
“You’re acting kind of weird today.” 
“Mm? How so?” He pairs the question with a sharp bite to your shoulder, lips curling into a smile when he hears you let out a surprised squeak. It doesn’t bleed, merely tinged red. He knows your limits, and he knows how much pressure he’d need to put through to really make you bleed. But neither of you are in the mood for that today. 
You shiver in his grasp, and his arms circle around you tighter so that you can’t move away from the sting of his teeth. 
“You’re…” You bite back your words, eyebrows furrowing. This isn’t good. You should be focusing on the moment, not on letting your thoughts wander off. But still, this feels weirdly like foreplay. Usually, the most foreplay Sukuna indulged you with were lovingly traded insults and harsh words, but these kisses and the way his hands are clutching you feels a bit more than usual. “Never mind.” 
Sukuna pulls back, squeezing your hips. “Spit it out.” He says, annoyed now. 
“Nope.” 
He grumbles something that suspiciously sounds like an insult against you into the crook of your neck, but he lets it go. Instead, he’s nudging you to your knees in front of his hard length while he settles onto his couch. He doesn’t need to tell you what to do, you’re already kneeling in front of him, licking your lips in anticipation. You lick up his cock tentatively. Another grumble of annoyance leaves his lips as he pats your cheek with his fingers. “Open up. You want to impress me, right? You’ll need to really get into it if you want to be filled up.” He narrows his eyes. “Especially with your attitude today.” 
Sukuna slides a thumb past your lips, groaning as you start to suck without any further instruction. It’s a sound that sends a heat down to your core.  “There we go.” He hisses, swapping his thumb for two of his fingers that he uses to press down on your tongue. A spluttering, choking sound comes from your throat as he pushes his fingers to the back of your mouth without any warning, but he doesn’t stop. His eyes narrow. “Nervous today?” He asks, nonchalantly. And you know he expects you to answer, even with your mouth full. 
You shake your head, too busy tensing your thighs together at the low whisper of his voice. 
“You’re usually more prepared than this.” He mutters, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “Alright, come here.” He pats his leg and you clamber up onto it eagerly. His thigh tenses under you as he realises how wet you already are. “If you make a mess, princess.” Sukuna says the pet name with barely any semblance of fondness. “I’ll make you clean it up.” He places two fingers into your mouth again, letting out a breathy laugh when he feels you clench your thighs around his at the comment. “Suck.” 
Two fingers turn into three, and he’s not satisfied until he’s got you rocking your hips in small motions against his leg, hoping for more friction. He doesn’t tense up his thigh again, only watching you with a piercing gaze as your mouth pulls his fingers in and back out again. Sukuna pushes his fingers to the back of your throat once more, dragging them out slowly and praising you with a whistle of satisfaction as a strand of saliva clings to his fingers, snapping midway and leaving a trickle of drool down the side of your mouth. You whine, hands perched on his upper thigh as you grind your hips a little harder. 
“Hey.” He cups your cheek in a rare act of kindness, swiping a thumb over your drool. “You look all fucked out already.” His voice is soft, almost affectionate as he leans in, speaking against your lips. You shake your head at the thought. You’re just imagining things in the heat of the moment. You try to move your hips a little faster, but he stills you with his hand, pushing you down until you’re seated properly on his thigh. Sukuna rolls his eyes, nudging you off him and situating you between his legs again. This feels more familiar. 
He lets you touch him for a bit, letting your hands pump his length briefly and allows you to press kisses to his tip as he shudders. You drag your warm tongue along his shaft, taking him into your mouth before letting go with a satisfied pop. Sukuna’s stomach tenses as you do so, only relaxing once you go back to your gentle, peppering kisses. It doesn’t take long before he’s annoyed by your gentleness, and his hand comes up to twist at the roots of your hair. 
“Stop messing around and just…” A sigh leaves his throat as he pushes you down onto his cock, getting you to take him inch by inch. He doesn’t really let you catch your breath, too busy with how pliant you are once he really tells you what he wants. He holds you there once he hits the back of your throat, until you’re scratching at his bare thigh, and he lets you go with a sharp breath, a little dribbly and sloppy. It’s a little too messy. “I like you better like this, you know.” He grunts, his other hand brushing your hair out of your face for you. “It’s so much nicer when you just take it.” 
He laughs, a mean-spirited tone in it that has you sending him a small glare, even as you’re hungrily glancing at his cock again. 
“Mmm, c’mon gorgeous, let me guide you a little. You prefer it that way, right?” He smirks down at you, and you throb painfully at the thought of him finally filling you up like he promised. Sukuna doesn’t wait for you to nod, holding one hand onto the back of your head and coaxing you to open your mouth again for him. And you do. Perhaps a little too willingly, as your mouth fills with the taste of him. His fingers entangle themselves into your hair, and every tightened grasp has you moaning around his length. He’s close, you can feel it in the way that his length throbs in your mouth. There’s barely any warning, only a deep grunt from Sukuna before he releases into your mouth. Good thing he’s given you so much training in your previous meetups. 
You pull off him as he finishes spurting, closing your full mouth and looking up at him with affectionate wide eyes. More dramatism. You’d thought Sukuna would roll his eyes, but he’s only got his eyes on you, slightly dazed from his release. You decide to bring his focus back properly, swallowing the bitter taste of his cum and letting your tongue hang out with a happy smile to show him it’s all gone. It’s an image you know will sear into his mind for days to come. 
A small feeling of victory sprouts in your chest, his cock twitches at the sight and his jaw falls open slightly. Sukuna clears his throat, pulling you up to stand by your arm and pushing his lips on yours before you can protest. It’s careless and sloppy, all tongues mashing together and he ends it as abruptly as it began, giving you a pat on your cheek again before he’s turning you around so you’re facing away from him. 
He pushes into you slowly, a stretch that has your eyes rolling up into your head and a quiet huff of pleasure leaves his lips. Sukuna’s weirdly kind enough today to rub your clit in slow circles to take your mind off of it. But it’s only for the initial stretch. He’s pulled you down by your hips onto him once he notices your form relaxing at his fingers, and you whimper at the feeling. 
“Shh, shh. You can take it, I know you can.” Sukuna traitorously rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your waist as though he hasn’t just bullied his way inside you. 
“Too b-big. Wait–” You whimper out, sentence broken once he gives a small jerk of his hips and you’re reminded that you’re seated in his lap, all filled out. You cry out his name instead. 
Sukuna laughs, grazing his hands up and down your sides. “Look at that.” He marvels, tracing a finger from your neck to the bottom of your spine. “Took me all in one go.” He spanks your ass lightly, seething as you clench around him. “You’re clinging onto me so tightly. Talk all you want, but you like me being mean to you, huh? You wouldn’t keep coming back if I was nice to you.” A stuttering breath leaves his lips as you clench down again at his words. “Thought so.” 
You squirm in his lap, only thinking about how it’ll feel when he’s pounding into you, filling you up again and again until you’re satisfied. Your actions are quickly stopped. 
“Why the rush? I’m not bored of this sight yet.” His hands have clamped around your thighs, halting your movements. “Stay still.” There’s a warning edge to his voice that makes you listen, stilling your resistance against his hands and ignoring the urge to whimper indignantly at his command. 
“S-Sukuna–!” You’re babbling and he hasn’t even started yet. But it’s not enough. Between the brief moments of grinding on his thigh and just sitting on him as he fills you up, it’s definitely not enough. The warmth in your stomach is building slowly, going nowhere. 
His hand gently caresses the sides of your neck, hovering his fingers around it and letting go. If you could see him, you’d see the admiration on his face. But you don’t. A feeling of frustration overtakes your mind instead. 
“What’s that?” The cocky smirk on his face bleeds into his words. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” He thrusts his hips up into you quickly, squeezing your hips again when you moan out. “You’ve always been such a brat, with so much to say. It’s nicer to hear you like this — desperate and needy.” A hand wraps around you to tickle your clit, hissing as he feels you tighten around his cock. 
“I’m… I’m not desperate.” You still fight him, although you quickly regret it once you feel his hands leave your skin. You whimper out his name at the loss of the pleasurable touches, turning your head around to try to look at him. 
Sukuna’s words cause you to freeze. “If you turn around to look at me, I’ll leave you here like this.” 
You dutifully turn your head back to the front, wiggling your hips slowly at how full you feel. It’s enough, just barely enough for a twinge of pleasure to run through you, but you know it could feel better. It’s not enough to calm the heat between your legs. You feel yourself squirm again at the sensation of some of your wetness leaking out of you in your desperation. “Hmm. Why don’t you try it then, princess?” He’s mocking again, and you whine as you feel it light something inside you. “Use me a little.” 
“I don’t know if I can.” You sob at the idea, achingly moving your hips up and down as you try to mimic the pleasure you know he can offer. 
“Try.” He orders. 
Your breathing comes out shakily as your hands come up to your chest to play with your nipples, while his hands finally move back to rest on your hips. He really doesn’t move, even holding back any moans that threaten to slip out so that all you can hear is your own thumping heartbeat and quiet mewls as you feel him filling you while your hips thrust. It’s not until your hands are down on his knees and you’re frowning with frustration that he chuckles. 
“Want some help?” 
“Please, Sukuna!” You turn your head to meet his gaze and he gets a full view of your pitiful expression, tears threatening to spill from the corner of your eyes. He gives you a mocking replica, all pouty lips and a hand coming up to stroke your chin. 
“Keep trying, as hard as you can.” He coaxes you instead, and you do, until a faint tinge of exhaustion creeps up on you again and you shiver, hands desperately trying to reach behind you to grab onto him for a reason you can’t even think of through the dissatisfaction. 
Sukuna’s on to you as soon as you reach for him, pulling your arms back towards him so that you’re left arching against his chest while he thrusts up into you. It’s hard and fast, just the way he knows you like. “There, there. You did such a good job at trying.” He sneers. “I suppose you deserve some sort of reward.” 
It’s a punishing pace he sets, emptying your mind with nothing but pleasure from being filled up over and over again. This angle has him reaching your soft, sensitive spot easily, and you choke everytime he does, your mind blanking. His hand comes down to your clit to toy with it, holding your wrists behind you with his other hand now. You're squirming and moving so much, and you know it’s taking most of his efforts just to keep you still. But you’re not thinking about that too much, too busy focusing on the way he feels inside you and the coil in your belly tightening. Your breathing quickens and you lean your head back onto his shoulder as you feel yourself going weak, your mind going blank– 
Sukuna bites you on the shoulder. His teeth sinks into your skin, just enough to draw a prickle of blood, and it has you trembling from the feel of it. The sudden pain mixed in with his thick cock filling you up is what sends you over the edge, thrashing in his hold as you whine out his name. He follows soon after, with a kiss against where he bit you, releasing hot spurts into you that has you wriggling in his lap from the sensitivity. 
It’s quiet after, only the sounds of your breathing. You’re slowly coming down from your high, feeling his chest rise and fall against your back and his breathing on your skin. 
“F-felt good…” You huff out, your whole body limp against him. 
He lets out a quiet ‘tsk’, but doesn’t seem to mind your weight, a hand trailing circles around your stomach. “I know.” He nibbles at your neck, smiling as he feels you tremble. “Where do you feel me?” He mumbles quietly into your hair, and you use what strength you have to push his palm over where his length reaches inside you. 
You feel his cock throb inside you, and you let out a pleasured sound. “Just right.” You mumble. 
“Really?” There’s a bite to his voice that has you knowing that you’re about to be teased incessantly. “I could have sworn you were moaning about how big it was earlier.” 
You don’t give him a response, still feeling small waves of pleasure shudder through your form. He gives you a couple more lingering touches along your skin, and then he’s lifting you off him, placing you down onto the side of the couch to lay down. 
“Don’t look at me like that.” Sukuna frowns at you, noticing the distraught look on your face. 
Now that the main event is over and done with, you know you’re supposed to leave. But some weird part of you wants to stay, and unable to voice it, you feel your bottom lip tremble. Your face scrunches up, and you feel a little empty – not just because he’s not filling you up anymore, but also from an ache in your chest. 
Sukuna lets out an annoyed sigh, but pats your leg gently. “Alright, fine. A needy thing like you probably wants cuddles and affection, right?” 
You nod, closing your eyes from embarrassment. You’re never like this with him, but after all the oddly kind way he was treating you today, on top of all the other things you’re familiar with from him, you seem to want a little more. And the fact that he wasn’t chasing you out sends a feeling of hope through your heart. You’re not really expecting him to go along with your whims, so when he pulls you into his chest, lifting you up off the bed into a bridal carry to the bathroom, you’re a little surprised. 
Sukuna chuckles at the squeak leaving your raw throat. “You sound like a parrot.” 
“Shut up.” You mumble. He doesn’t say anything to that. 
He makes sure you’re steady on your feet when he places you down before leaving you to turn on the shower. He returns to your side as you both wait for the water to warm up. 
“Stupid.” Sukuna grumbles, shaking his head at your antics with a slight fondness for you. You dare to peek up at his face at his word, only to find he’s already looking at you. As soon as he notices your gaze, he trades the slight curve on his lips for a neutral expression. He crosses his arms over his chest. “You look so enticing when you’re all pouty like that.” 
Before you can object, his hands are already feeling around your midriff, tugging your weak legs towards him and catching you as you stumble into his waiting arms. 
“Don’t worry, brat.” There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes that definitely has you worried. “I’ll take really good care of you.” 
423 notes · View notes
mo0nfairy · 10 months
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART TWO !
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summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 5.8k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, sexual themes, stalking, gore, nightmares, weapons, breaking and entering, drugging/drug mentions, nudity, kidnapping, noncon touching, jill is a greasy rat basically lol.
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jill valentine's yandere traits are . . .
possessive, dominant, & stalker
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──── Jill Valentine hates the taste of coffee. Yet still, her kitchen cabinets are full of it.
Littered around her apartment, there are mugs stained with days-old coffee. The caffeinated scent clings to the walls and makes her stomach coil. A mess of documents sits on her cluttered desk. The October wind whistling through the window sends a few pieces fluttering down to the dirty floorboards. 3:57 AM is read on a digital clock in its neon red hues; the flickering lamp light on the desk illuminates the mess of broken pencils, coffee stains, and case files. With an accelerated heartbeat and heaving breaths, Jill hastily analyzes the CCTV footage on her jagged laptop.
Every person, every street sign, every single pixel on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she'll find you among this mess.
Other tabs display missing persons' documents, reports from private investigators, and checkpoints on satellite imagery. Ms. 'I don't mind a little detective work' has spent every day of the past six years doing this exact thing. Weaving through any bit of information and manipulating every resource she could get her hands on. Everything she does is to try and find the one thing that matters more than anything to her.
Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.
Jill remembers your sultry body, your delicious gratitude, your sweet blood staining her clothes; she will never forget how you sparked the beginning of her life in Raccoon City. She will always remember how she didn't know what emotion was until she met you and how Raccoon City was the best night of her life because of it. A raw flurry of fuzzy, warm feelings embraced her, as well as the cold fingertips of rage, envy, and fear. It was messy, but it was so, so beautiful.
There is nothing now.
Her worst fear had come alive. To continue to live every day just for the sake of living while desperately trying to fill the empty void within her — it had all come back in a flash. Just when she had wrapped her fingers around happiness, it was torn from her grasp like candy from a baby. And if you had asked where Jill thought she would be six years after that night, the image she would paint for you would be far more illuminative than the life she now lives. A rundown studio apartment infested with rats and cockroaches, but she'd be able to endure any germ-infested danger with the light of her life beside her. Every day would be spent deconstructing your facade and dissecting the beautiful person you are; every day would be spent dragging her fingertips along every inch of your body, blithely taking note of what makes you blush and squirm.
She would be happy. And you would be, too.
Jill is now stuck in a cave. Adorned in darkness and devoid of life. In a city she doesn't know, becoming a person she doesn't recognize — she can't fathom how disastrous her life had become since she lost you. She can't fathom the idea of you not being here with her, to begin with.
Skimming through the fatuous clues laid out before her, Jill takes a peek at the satellite imagery in one browser and something catches her eye. A habilitation, of some sort. Located in the middle of nowhere, overwhelmed with heaps of endless trees. She searches for any further information regarding this strange building, only to find there is no trace of this place even existing. It is certainly odd, yes, but does not relate to you in any shape or form. With that, she lets her curiosity go and occupies her time with more productivity.
Another hour drifts by. Waiting for a returning email from one of the numerous private investigators she hired, Jill reads through medical records in hopes of finding anything reminiscent of you. Maybe by some brush of luck, you'd still be treated for your broken arm six years later. However, this mysterious building still fogs up her mind. How could such a large structure be built with not a single trace existing? Surely, someone would have stumbled upon the property by now, right? Snuffing out her pride, Jill gathers the coordinates and sends them out to Tyrell. With his technology skills, he may be able to uncover something about the strange place. Even though Jill knows in her heart it's nothing but a dead end, it's still something, nonetheless. And after all this time of relentlessly doing the same thing over and over again, she has become desperate.
A sudden flare of lethargy envelops Jill. With her persistent intake of caffeine, this isn't anything abnormal. She's prone to just crashing at her bed, her desk, or sometimes, even onto the floor. With drooping eyelids, Jill folds her arms on the table and rests her head against them. There's no harm in a little shut-eye, right?
What she didn't expect is to be abruptly woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. And she most certainly didn't expect to find you standing there beside her. Saccharine-sweet smile, skin clean of any zombie-induced grime — you're at her side wearing an old S.T.A.R.S. hoodie with your upper thigh peeking out of your sweatshorts (inevitably sending a flare of heat to Jill's core). In your hand is a cold beer, a prize for Jill after the hours of hard work she has endured at her desk. And she is just in pure awe at the sight of you. She discards the beverage in favor of pulling you into her lap. You swing your arms around her neck like a newlywed bride with that damned, heart-stuttering smile of yours growing from the sudden act of affection.
Jill's eyes peer down to your hips. Her rough fingers fidget with the elastic band of your shorts, subtly asking you to let her hands wander further. Her touch wanders beneath the hem of the ragged sweatshirt you were wearing. When her hand makes contact with the warm skin of your stomach, a gasp escapes her chest at the intimate contact. You gently place your soft hand atop hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and rapture. You're here; you're alive. Her sweet, adoring, blue butterfly has returned to her and Jill can't handle the sheer euphoria that comes from the revelation.
It isn't until she feels your chest begin to stutter from silenced coughs does she finally return her focus to your face. Only to find your eyes had gone milky white, your skin growing purple in rotting hues, and decomposing gashes opening themselves all over your body as they gush out with puss. The wheezes protruding from you accelerate into harsh gags. A splurge of red-hot blood then spurts from your mouth and onto Jill. She has no time to revel in the burning fantasy of being covered in your bodily fluids, she can only stare in complete horror at what has befallen her beloved. You then push yourself off of Jill, to where you begin convulsing on the ground like a dying insect. It is horrifying. And to suddenly be without your touch after so long of hungrily basking in it — Jill hates to admit how badly it hurts her.
A sharp cry accompanied by a horrified gasp permeates the lonely air. Reality suddenly washes over her and Jill buries her face into her hands with a sigh of defeat. Another nightmare. Another fucking nightmare of millions. She should've known it'd be too good to be true; she should've known that a perfect life with you by her side was nothing more than a fantasy. And God, does it fucking kill her.
Stepping away from her disordered desk, she walks to the dresser sitting on the other side of the room. Jill digs through the unfolded mess of dirty laundry until she's finally able to dish out what she intended. The old S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt you had worn in her dream. Despite the loose threads protruding from the hems and gaping holes littered against the fabric, you made it look like a piece of high fashion etched with velvet and silk. She wraps the article of clothing around her figure and snuggles into the article, pretending it's you she is holding in her arms. Jill then crouches down at the foot of her bed, plucking out a dilapidated shoe box from underneath. Inside is a singular item that has and always will remain the most important object Jill has ever possessed.
A bloodied bandage. Covered with dirt and riddled with age, this singular bandage was what she had taken from Kendo's first aid kit six years ago.
She remembers how your skin felt beneath her as she wrapped the bandage around you; she remembers how she slyly slipped the garment into her pocket when Carlos was caught up in tending to your broken arm. Jill presses the bandage to her cheek, pretending it's your comforting hand against her face instead of some tattered piece of gauze. If only she had known what the future had in store for her that night, she would have never let you step foot onto that train. Hell, she would have never let you step foot out of her sight ever again. Until the end of time, however, Jill will continue to search the world over and over again to find you. You are the only thing keeping her alive, after all.
The quick tune of an email alert brings Jill out of her lovesick, grief-burdened daze. She discards the precious cargo in her hands back to its home beneath her bed, then returns to her desk. In the three hours Jill had been knocked out cold, Tyrell had managed to bypass the security system that was "a bitch to get through" (his exact words). In the email, he provided several files that contain security system footage from cameras scattered around the area. Feverishly, Jill double-clicks the links and analyzes the pixelated footage. She knows what she is looking for, and despite the voice of logic on her shoulder whispering of what a waste of time this was, she still persevered.
A hallway filled with bustling doctors, a garden filled with meditating patients, and a cafeteria swarming with warm food and activity. Lastly, the final file shows a library. Unlike the others, the peaceful environment was scattered with little activity. The only form of life in the room was a few faces around who had their noses buried in books. A figure then ventures around the corner of a bookshelf, a stack of books held tight to their chest. Through the mess of pixels, a familiar face comes clear into frame.
You.
Something bright fills her chest. Hope, relief, elation. It bubbles in Jill's heart and paralyzes her entire body. The only thing she can do is stare at the screen with her jaw on the floor. You are her butterfly, beautiful and fleeting. She's been nothing but a worm trying to squirm its way through the soil and into the sky. Now, however, she can finally hold your hand in hers; she can finally fly with you at her side. Her teeth chatter behind her smile as she leans closer to the laptop, watching intensely. You merely bring the collage of books to a lone couch and flip open the page of a new book. Little do you know the sheer effect such a mild action would do to the woman you presumed to be dead. Her thumbs grasp the corners of the monitor, caressing the surface as if it were your skin beneath her.
"I found you... I found you...!" Tears seep from her eyes uncontrollably. Finally, this void within her is filled.
Pure laughter, a sound she hasn't expressed in years, bounces from her tongue with glee. It's as if a symphony of angels had invaded Jill's apartment, pervading the lonely silence with euphonious melodies. They sing and cheer for her success, promises of a new beginning filled with light and laughter tumbling from their lips. It appears as any other CCTV footage you'd see, but to Jill, she has never seen anything so breathtaking, so magnificent. Jill rewinds the footage for what may be the umpteenth time, just to ensure this wasn't another dream she'd inevitably wake up from. Fortunately, it is the truth. And she can't refrain the pure joy from escaping her body.
Despite her heart pulling at her strings in an attempt to give in to her desires, Jill knows she must learn more before she can finally get you back. As desperately as she wants to storm the place, guns-a-blazing and all, being messy with her efforts may send her back to square one. Alone, without the one she loves most. The thought itself sends a cold shudder down her spine. She pours herself another cup of coffee. This will be the last one, she guarantees. From thereon, Jill begins her research into this lion's den. Located directly in the middle of the woods, this mysterious habitat began its organization exactly six years ago. Mere months after the incident in Racoon City, to be precise. With a few more hours of digging, the truth practically slaps Jill across the face.
This "sanctuary" is just a facade for Umbrella.
Even after all these years, that damned corporation still has its bloodied claws sunk into every fraction of Jill's life. They had been keeping survivors of their personalized epidemic safe in this establishment, under the guise of 'healing them through these tough times.' In reality, it was to ensure they kept their mouths shut and Umbrella's mistake could be safely swept under the rug. Seething with rage, Jill asks herself: why not me? Why am I the only exception? The last thing she could ever want is to be held captive by Umbrella of all people, but to be locked up with you? That's a different story.
It doesn't take long for Jill to connect the dots. Her occupation gave her that extra layer of protection against Umbrella. So, she remains untouched. However, with your job as a cashier at a gas station, you weren't as fortunate as Jill. Otherwise, you and she would have spent every day of these past six years at each other's side in euphoric harmony. Jill is sure of it.
The sun begins to set after a long, exasperated day of breaking the immeasurable walls Umbrella had built to protect their precious organization. Jill, heavy-eyed and exhausted, has finally concluded the great mystery that is your disappearance. She takes every penny of her rent money and urgently gives it all to Tyrell in exchange for more security footage. When asked about her desperate efforts, Jill makes the excuse that it is the location of a potential crime scene. And in a way, she isn't wrong. It is about to be.
With footage from every camera of the past month (as well as some good spank bank material for later on), Jill has a firm layout of every nook and cranny within the building. She fawns over the videos of you meditating in the garden and reading the hours away in the library. She also tenses up with jealousy over the clips of you laughing with your friends in the cafeteria and bonding over shared experiences in group therapy. It should be her you're doing all these things with. With a pout, Jill then plans her route on retrieving you. Although she has enough anger within her to tear the entire premise asunder, she is humble enough to recognize the extensive security is out of her element. After hours upon hours of trying to find the best way to carry out her plan, Jill accepts defeat.
As much as she wants to, she cannot do this alone. So, she contacts an old friend.
A simple email that reads "I found them" and Carlos Oliveira is at the door of her apartment within hours. His face sheen with sweat, hands trembling at his side, eyes blown wide in crazed worry. God, it's almost like he ran the entire way here. It isn't until Jill sees his face does the all-too-overwhelming revelation settle. It's time to finally get you back.
Deep in the middle of the woods, Jill and Carlos have nothing but the brimming sunset and heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate their path. A maze of trees and tight security kept the establishment well hidden from any wandering eyes. With swift movements from the two military-trained individuals, they were able to pass all barricades with ease. Out of sight from any cameras and wandering security guards, Jill and Carlos soon make it to a single window that has been left slightly ajar. It was your attempt at enjoying the last gusts of seasonal warmth before Winter arrives. A tame smile forms on their faces at the prospect. You'll be able to enjoy every season forevermore with them at your side. Whether it is your skin glowing beneath the warm haze of summer's heat or cozying up with the other during the harsh chills of Winter. They'll make sure everything is perfect. Just for you.
An ear-piercing screech pervades the late October air as Jill pries the window open. They cringe, wait for the other shoe to fall and bring this plan to its fateful end. But, there is nothing. No blaring alarms there to jeopardize their schemes, no wonderful, perfect you there to run into the arms of your surprise guests and drown them in kisses. Nothing. Continuing attentively, the two manage to slip through the window, where they then find themselves in your bathroom.
Jill and Carlos become entranced with the mere sight of your bathroom and the utilities within. Rested by the sink is your toothbrush, sat beside a tube of toothpaste and accompanied by a clutter of skincare products. Jill shakily brings the brush into her hands, fingers hovering over the bristles with belated breath. Your teeth, your tongue, your spit. Your mouth has been on this item and Jill salivates from the idea alone. Before she can quaff out every bit of you she can garner from the toothbrush, she snaps out of her fantasy and shoves the brush into her pocket. For later use, she assures.
Carlos, however, is trapped tight in his own daze. By the shower, a cluster of damp towels had been leisurely swung upon a towel rack. He takes one into his hands, shivering at the idea of this cloth once making contact with your nude body. Squeezing, the water that seeps from the tight contact and down his fingers causes a pool of vehemence to form within him. Lips trembling in response, Carlos then brings the towel to his face. His warm breath wafted back onto his face as he heavily inhaled the scent still lingering upon the fabric. Oh, Y/N, how he worships you. Carlos imagines how your scent would sit in your body while he drags his lips among the skin of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and then your-
A harsh smack to his arm brings his thoughts to an abrupt, depressing halt. Just when he was about to indulge his tongue in the taste of what was once on your wet body, Jill had to go and ruin his fun.
The dulcet tune of humming diffuses through the area like a soft fragrance. Whatever libido-stained hysteria these lovesick fools had found themselves in faded away as quickly as it came. Jill feels her heart bloom like a spring flower — your voice. One of your most important attributes her deadbeat brain had so frivolously forgotten. It has finally returned to her. And the way you fill the air with such heavenly sounds is something straight out of a fairytale, the two think to themselves. Like a siren, leading the people who love you more than anything to their inevitable demise. And if they're being honest, the sight of you after six years without you may kill them with its sheer force.
In a way, they were correct. Jill takes a step out of the bathroom and into your kitchen, peering around the corner of a wall to find you on a couch. Your back to her, headphones nestled on your head and book held tight in your hands. Nothing could have prepared her for such a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching sight. Nodding your head to the tunes blasting in your ears, foot tapping in rhythm against the floor. God, how much more beautiful could you get? How much more can you do to Jill and her sanity by simply existing?
With a deep, shaky inhale, Jill continues with the plan at hand. She tiptoes past the threshold of your living room and ventures further into the kitchen. With gentle, yet expeditious movements, she opens every cabinet and searches through for anything of importance. On the very edge by the stove, Jill opens the cabinet door and finds shelves full of jumbled mugs and different tea flavors. Taking a paranoid glance behind her, she finds Carlos peering around the same corner she had stood behind moments before. And the man is just relishing in the pure sight of you. His eyes drooping and coated in a dreamy luster; his mouth hung agape with the corners curling into a weakened smile. She'd say how pathetic he looked if it weren't for the fact she was in his exact state just seconds ago. With a roll of her eyes, Jill returns to her work in your kitchen.
How clueless you are to what is happening just over your shoulder. Who knew that you catching up on some late-afternoon reading could conjure up such staggering emotions within Jill and Carlos? And who knew that the two people you presumed to be dead had crushed up sedatives and hid them in your teabags?
Mere minutes go by as the two reside in your bathroom, waiting for you to unintentionally complete the next part of their plan. The creaking sound of a door opening halts their enthusiastic exploration of your bathroom. A voice, one that certainly does not belong to you, pervades the air of your home. Apparently, you and this stranger have some plans to go stargazing? Jill and Carlos give a confused, knowing look to each other. Who the fuck is this? Jill buries her unkempt fingernails into the palm of her hand. Clenching her fists inevitably causes moon-shaped scars to form. They're mine, they're mine, they're mine. Her nails soon break through the skin, to where blood oozes into her hands. It seeps down her wrists and onto the white tiles beneath her boots. The faint drum of your footsteps prevents her from acknowledging how she has left a trace of her behind.
Through the crack of the door, Jill finds you entering the kitchen with a thick blanket draped upon your shoulders. Like clockwork, you tread to the cabinet at the far end of the room and begin to make yourself a cup of tea. For the second time that day, Jill gives a harsh smack to Carlos' arm to stop him from inhaling your towels like a depraved junkie and pay attention. The two now watch in trepidation and enthrallment as you go about your nightly routine. Sitting at your rickety kitchen table, watching the kettle steam upon the stove, strolling down memory lane. How can you be so perfect in such simplistic ways? 
You inadvertently shape your future by placing the tea bag into the messily painted mug made for you by one of the younglings who survived Raccoon City. A fond smile grows at the thought of them while you pour out the boiling water. You have absolutely no clue what is in store for you by doing this. And to the people standing in your bathroom, it is so endearing.
Taking a small sip as you walk back to the table, a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over you. Your vision doubles, overlapping every perceivable object in front of you into a blurry, distorted mess. The mug falls from your weak hands. It shatters against the floor and the sound reverberates like a blaring alarm. You hear muffled voices, a sharp ringing, and your own panicked breathing. What the fuck is going on? Once your vision goes black, you can barely feel how your numb body splats against the ground. Your hyperventilated gasps decelerate into tame breaths when oblivion finally welcomes you.
The only thing you can do is lay here and hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago. You hope so.
There are black holes in your memory. Collapsing in your kitchen to being nestled in the backseat of a car. Trying to piece together this puzzle was nothing short of a pipe dream. When you wake, however, you find yourself enveloped in a strange sense of warmth. The senses in your body awaken from your head and travel down to your toes. Almost as if it was rain cascading down a window; as if it was a teardrop coursing down your cheek. From your waist down, you can feel how your nude body is submerged in warm water. You inhale and are overwhelmed by the stench of body soap that perfumes the humid air. Candle lights flicker in their calm hues and bounce against your closed eyelids.
In an attempt to thrash around and escape whatever has taken you from the safety of the sanctuary, your body fails you in your attempts to move. You are completely and utterly paralyzed, much to your dismay. The only control you can accumulate is nothing but a choked whimper that you push out of your throat. The immediate cooing that purrs into your ear from someone behind you causes your blood to run cold. You then sense how your back is pressed against someone's naked chest. The strands of their choppy short hair stick to your sweaty face. Hot breath fans against you as they press long, gentle kisses to your neck.
A bathtub. That's where you have found yourself in. It is romantic, in a disturbing sense. You could almost be convinced this was nothing more than a fulfilling Valentine's Day. A pair of scrawny arms then tighten themselves around your form with possessive constriction. Their chapped lips trail down to your shoulder; their wet tongue adorns the expanse in an array of affection. The intimacy sends a shudder down your skin. Calloused hands grope your chest and indulge themselves in the feeling of your flesh touching theirs, seemingly drunk off of you. The graze of their jagged teeth against you causes a gasp to escape you. A hum of quiet laughter vibrates in the chest of your assailant in response.
"My butterfly, you have no idea how long I have dreamed about this..." The soft tone of their voice lulls you back to sleep. This is getting old, you think once more before unconsciousness envelops you once again.
Jill simply cannot believe it. At this moment, you are here, alone with her. She couldn't imagine a better fantasy if she tried. And in a way, the effect your mere touch has on her made all six years of suffering worth it. Only now, she can scrutinize you completely and thoroughly. As opposed to the zombie-induced nightmare being the only contact she had with you. And your physicality has haunted Jill. She traces the jut of your cheekbone, the curl of your lashes, the texture of your lips. More importantly, she indulges her greedy taste buds in the taste of your mouth-watering skin, your delicious sweat, and your candy-sweet saliva. 
Your flavor — never has Jill known she could be transported to such paradisiacal heaven. And never has Jill known she could ever be so... vulnerable.
Vulnerability has always equated to weakness in the eyes of Jill for as long as she's been alive. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat and constrict the overflow of bottled emotions these past six years are certainly no strangers to her. Raccoon City, however, opened the floodgates to a tsunami of revelations. To bask in emotion, to revel in you. Most importantly, to feel you here with her right at this moment. She can discard the facade of a cold heart and thick skin, to where she can embrace the exhilaration that follows with your presence. There will never be a second where Jill isn't thanking the universe profusely for such a wondrous gift.
As much as she disdains the idea of breaking contact with you, the hour spent in such stifling heat would not be good for you. And the prospect of your deteriorating health causes her to persevere through her selfish desires. This doesn't refrain her from being a little too touchy while drying off your body, though. Jill then dresses your unconscious form in a fresh, newly bought pair of fuzzy pajamas (despite the incessant suggestions from Carlos to please have you wear his clothes). The sensation feels like a cloud against your skin that had just been massaged with warm water, loving hands, and ambrosial lotions. So cozy, so cuddly.
With easy effort, Jill nestles you into bed. The late-night brume and heavy rain complement the tranquility within the room, naturally soothing you into a deeper sleep. She then presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead, whispering a promise of returning soon.
Her gaze and her hand linger on you before returning to the bathroom. While you are now sleeping, Jill sits on the tiled floor of the bathroom and rests her arms against the rim of the tub. Her fingers cascade among the still-wet walls of the tub, shivering over the prospect of your naked self touching the surface just moments before. She takes her index and middle finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue around the digits and cleaning them of any excess of you still left on them. The other hand is used to caress the parts of the bathtub you had sat in before as if she were touching you. And it is just heavenly. Having you beneath her, her tongue tasting every inch of you, all the sounds you would gift her in return. It practically makes her feral with desire.
Shakily sinking her hands into the lukewarm water, it pools in her hands before escaping through the slits of her fingers. Mouth agape, skin gleaming with sweat — the only thing present in Jill's mind is how your flavor has mended with the bathwater. With rapid movements, she scoops some of the water into her palm and slurps the liquid with fervent haste. Six years of her lust-ridden head overcome with these fantasies, Jill has finally come one step closer to turning this dream into a reality. Her eyes fall shut and she lets the reverie flood her body. Wrapping her lips around your sex and adorning it in a mess of her saliva and your essence; every whimper and moan that escapes your mouth making her slick with arousal. After turning your brain into mush, she would then wrap you in her embrace and soothe you to sleep, still preserving the taste of you on her tongue.
Oh, one day. One day...
Birds singing, rain dancing. Once again, it is the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. The sun has now risen, hidden beneath an array of stormy clouds. Daylight bleeds into the room you have awoken in. A bedroom, as it appears; you are in a bedroom you are oblivious to the location of. With its pristine environment, expensive comforters, healthy plants, and modern decoration scattered around, you can't help but be astonished at how gorgeous it is. A window takes up the entirety of two walls, displaying nothing but miles upon miles of endless forestry. You would assume this was a gorgeous retreat if not for the confusion staining your mind. Have I been kidnapped? The thought bounces back and forth in your brain like a ping-pong ball.
Your original idea of being held captive consists of a dank basement, restraints around your limbs, and a lone mattress on the dirty ground. If you had been kidnapped, it would be nothing as luxurious as this, surely. Had the sanctuary brought you to a new location? Had your friends taken you on some sort of a surprise vacation? What the fuck is going on here!? Trying to venture down memory lane to find out how on Earth you have ended up here, your efforts are unfortunately brought to no avail. All you had done was drink some tea and somehow in the span of twelve hours, it had led you here. The only thing you can do now, however, is find some answers.
Wobbling like a newborn fawn on legs, you try and catch your balance after you attempt to stand. A door stands to the right of you, which you stumble to. Using every fiber of strength in your exhausted body, you try and turn the doorknob. The wall is there to catch you when your body then gives up on you. With a few deep breaths upon collapsing, you fight to regain consciousness and continue to tread forward. You would not let yourself pass out again, you're determined of such.
Upon opening the door, a hallway presents itself to you. The scent of something cooking pervades the air. You only realize you had skipped dinner the previous night when the aroma of natural spices and flavors makes your mouth water. You hear the clanking of pots and pans, as well as the murmur of two strangely-familiar voices. The decorations in the hallway also grasp your attention as you stroll through, tip-toeing past any squeaky floorboards. Numerous other plants sit around the area and picture frames are placed neatly on the walls. The frames are all empty, ready to be filled. It causes a strange chill to course through your body. However, the only thing you should be concerned with right now is receiving some answers. As worrying as it is, the prospect of your kidnapper potentially filling these frames with new pictures of you is irrelevant right now.
Treading forward, you then find yourself on the threshold of the kitchen. And what you find within makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.
You catch sight of no other than Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira. At the breakfast bar is Jill, whose legs are crossed and resting upon the surface of the counter. Carlos stands by the stove, stirring something delicious in the pan before him. The conversation between them is cut short upon your entrance and the three of you all stare at each other like a group of deer in headlights. Silence sits like a thick stew.
You're the first to break through the quiet.
"What the fuck?"
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⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ RECURRING VISIONS
OF SUCH SWEET DAYS . . . ❞
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for anyone wondering, this, this, this, this, and this are what i imagined jill and carlos' house to look like. also, i will delve into characters and whatnot in further chapters. so dw!! and thank u!
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Confesser
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Summary: Spencer is a criminology professor, and Reader is a French professor. Separate focuses managed to get tangled together once, which makes Reader even more suspicious when he stops by her office on Valentine’s Day.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Light flangst
Content warnings: Slap
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: a little last-minute Valentine scenario
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The bulb in your desk lamp flickered, as if it was begging for you to call it a night. You've been working late nights at the office recently, not only to help your students before midterms but also to keep your mind at bay from the lingering anguish.
There’s nothing wrong with being alone on Valentine’s Day. It’s been the case for you for years now. Solitude has been your most consistent and prosperous state. It’s how you earned your place as tenure after just five years at Marbury University (Go Cardinals). A job for life. Many people aren’t lucky to have that like you are. So you can’t stop now and get comfortable. Your students love you, and over the years have advocated this position for you. Stopping now would be nothing but a disservice to them.
If only you hadn’t been so stupid your fourth year here (and the first half of your fifth), then the feelings you get when in Jefferson Hall might be less painful. You were stupid enough to believe that the number one workplace rule didn’t apply to you.
Don’t fuck your coworkers.
Perhaps you thought your achievements from back to back earned you a place of immunity in that pool. Well, Dr. Spencer Reid was happy to prove you wrong there. Things like that can always risk being casual, unrequited, awkward. And you were stupid enough to go back more than once, and sully the place and position you rightfully earned.
Spencer first noticed you speaking to some of your students outside the hall. When approaching, he spoke in French, assuming you were a foreign exchange student. But when you turned to face him, he saw your staff badge, and put the pieces together quickly. It’s not too far off of an assumption, as most people think you’re French when they see how easily the language and history flows from you. You applauded his French (both pronunciation and accent) regardless.
That meeting turned into a coffee date. Coffee turned to grabbing lunch, then grading papers together, moral support to keep one another going. That quickly trickled into a friendship as you learned about Spencer’s specialties, multiple degrees, and current employment at the BAU in Quantico. You’ve both been to France for pleasure and to study. One was coincidentally in the same year as each other, where you both visited the city of Orléans. The rich architecture and vast history as far back as the Merovingian era made you both agree you prefer it over Paris any day.
Those days were during your fourth year. And it was just over a year of friendship where you made the mistake of agreeing to a drink after work.
The bulb flickers, as if to mock those memories or distract you from going too deep. Does it really matter? Spencer made it clear it was a mistake. None of it was meant to happen — the kiss, the confession, the sex. And with your shared brilliance mixed with two vodka sodas, you both unraveled what used to be a genuine friendship, a trusting relationship among coworkers. You cut your desk lamp off with a click, muttering to yourself as you collect your bag and some books. It’s a good enough sign to call it a night and head home. At the very least, you could spoil yourself with a nice bath and some wine. You question if you should grab a bottle on the way home or use what you’ve got stashed.
Your keys rattle in the door as you lock up your office, and you jerk on the doorknob for the sake of double checking. Spencer told you most break-ins occur because people fail to check the locks in their homes or cars before leaving. You don’t know how many of your students or fellow professors in the Language Department would be eager to bust into your office, unless they need some spicy ancient French poetry or books on Rococo architecture. No issues of the sort have arisen yet.
That is until you spot him at the end of the hall, drenched in fluorescent lighting and paused as if you caught him in the act. Of what, you didn’t know. It’s not like Spencer was short on French books or books in French. You hesitated to speak, questioning if it was even worth speaking a word to him. Regardless of the fact that you have to go his direction to get to your car.
Of course you caved. “Spencer.” You tried to not make your gulp so audible.
He just stood there awkwardly, like this wasn’t as much his fault as it was yours. Like you were in his way.
You scoff. Seeing him there, just feet away, it’s a cruel feeling blooming in your chest. The idea that maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe he’s here to confess what he really feels. On Valentine’s Day, no less. A bit of a cliché, but you’re not in a position to be too picky about how you might make up. If that’s even what’s happening.
With reluctance, you walk toward him. “I’m heading home for the night,” you say. “Are you parked out front too?” It pains to ask as if this is all casual. It feels like your heart’s about to burst or crush because he’s not saying a word as you approach him. Not until you actually approach him.
“Hi,” he meekly says. He looks pale. He looks sick with worry. If you were more concerned, you would feel inclined to ask about it.
You try to avoid sighing too loudly. You need the air. Since the bar (and everything after that), you two haven't been this close. “Do you want to walk out to the parking lot?”
Spencer shakes his head. “I, uh, I got you something.” He digs around in his satchel and pulls out a frame delicately. Like it was an old piece of art. Spencer hands it to you.
It’s not an old piece of art. It’s an old piece of poetry. Two of them in a single frame.
“They’re not the originals. But I have a friend in Germany who knows a guy in France who could exchange some pretty old copies.”
You stared at the pieces. Gawked is likely the more accurate word. They were definitely old copies. It was all handwritten and translated to Middle English.
You looked up at Spencer. “Charles d’Orléans?”
Spencer nodded, lips pressed together in a boyish, nervous smile.
You were so stunned by the decoration of the parchment, the distinct age of the pieces (well before the revolution), you almost forgot to ask, “Why are you giving this to me?”
“Had some spares around the apartment. Figured you’d appreciate them more than me.” He chuckled.
You turned your head and narrowed your eyes.
And you saw Spencer’s audible gulp. Much more audible than yours earlier (yes!). “Read it.”
You scan over the parchment, translating in your head:
Let men and women on Love’s party
Choose their St. Valentine this year!
I remain alone, comfort stole from me
On the hard bed of painful thought.
As he is well this day has caught
A Valentine that loves him, as I guess,
Whereas this comfort me here alone
Upon my bed so hard of painful thought.
You looked back up at Spencer, hoping this time he’ll put some more context behind the words instead of leaving you to fill in the blanks (again). You waited.
“I’m sorry about what I said. Or I guess… the way I said it. Maybe both. Both is probably the safer option to go with. The point is that I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
You didn’t know what to do with the poems. It is instinct to keep them close to your chest like a book, but (like with you and Spencer) you’re afraid of ruining them. Somehow cracking it or damaging them. Firmly held in your hands, you are hyper-aware of its value. You also try not to let your emotions take a grip for the sake of your pieces. “You said it was a mistake.”
“It was a mistake that we went that far in one night. That’s… not who I am.”
You quirked a brow.
“That’s not who I usually am. I went too far in every way, and I’m sorry.”
You clamped your lips closed, looking around like students were present, ready to eavesdrop and gossip later. If your favorites were here, they would beg you to dish it all out over lunch. But no one was here. It was just you and Spencer (and Charles, kind of). “But what if my feelings were genuine?”
“I-I assumed they were. And I hurt them, and I’m sorry. I understand if I blew it and you may want to forget those feelings now, which is completely understandable. I destroyed it all in one night. And I can’t hold your hands right now, but I want to, and just say that you’re very important to me. And I miss you being around. And, uh, whatever context that might be, I hope we can be around each other again. A-at some point in the future.”
You sighed. It was heavy but concentrated. You needed a fresh breath of air. Spencer had the look of a sad puppy. It’s the way he looked whenever he was worried. How could you kick a sad puppy when he’s already down?
Well, you didn’t. You slapped him.
And he instantly reached for his cheek, already burning red.
“That’s for hurting me.”
Spencer nodded, not objecting to that part.
You then took that same cheek and pulled him closer, locking his lips with yours. And you both inhale deeply upon recognizing the contact. You’re hesitant about getting closer, given Charles is between you. “That’s me forgiving you.”
Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he held your face, but he didn’t initiate a kiss. The nerves in his fingers show he was hesitant to touch you so suddenly. He wasn’t messing this up again. “Can I walk you to your car?”
This time, it’s you who doesn’t hesitate. You hold the frame in one arm, cradling it like a baby. And you reach for Spencer’s hand as you walk out of Jefferson Hall.
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halfmoth-halfman · 8 months
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forever is mine with you
Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!Reader Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: cheating (reader gets cheated on) & fluff Prompt: Neighbors Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: we've got more gaz for @glitterypirateduck’s GazFest 2023 💜
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January
Kyle's new neighbor moves in the day after New Year's.
He hadn’t even known his old neighbor had moved out, so rare was it that he spent time at home. He sees the moving van just as he’s returning from his morning run, slowing to a curious pace as he passes by to get into the apartment building. The van doors are wide open, revealing a few larger boxes and a long, black couch, but there’s no one around. 
He knows this area is safe, that there’s very little chance of someone making off with any of the boxes–and no chance of someone getting away with the couch–but he’s a worrier at heart. So, he hovers near the entrance, pretending to be occupied on his phone while keeping an eye on the van through the large glass windows of the building.  
His breath hitches in his throat the second you step into the lobby. You look positively exhausted, dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings with stray pieces of your tied-up hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. Deep bags run under your eyes as you blink away sleep and what Kyle suspects is remnants of a New Year’s well-spent. Despite your tired appearance, there’s a wide smile spread across your face that has his heart skipping a beat as you head out to the van and start pulling out another box. 
The box could be heavy, Kyle thinks, watching you slide it across the floor of the van. It would be rude not to offer help. 
He gets two steps toward the door when someone rushes past him, and a man hurries to the van to lift the box from your hands. You stick your tongue out at him and lean over the box to give him a quick kiss before you disappear into the van again. Kyle decides to wait to introduce himself and, with one last look at your grinning face, turns to head back to his flat.
February
He doesn’t see you again for a month. 
It’s not that he didn’t want to properly introduce himself, he just never had the chance. It seemed the two of you were operating on different schedules, only catching small glimpses of each other like ships passing in the night. 
He has one week of leave left, and Kyle intends to make every second worth it. He spends the day outside, enjoying the fresh air and treating himself to his favorite takeout. He’s reluctant to return to his flat, but the moment he steps onto his floor he can’t seem to remember why. 
All of his thoughts go straight to you, and the way you’re standing outside of your door looking like something straight out of his dreams. 
Not that he would ever admit to dreaming of you, of course.
You’re all dressed up, more beautiful than anyone Kyle has ever seen. Hair done and decorated with tiny pearls to match the string of pearls around your neck, makeup flawless right down to the velvet red painted on your lips, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. It’s the dress that does him in. All crimson silk as it clings to every curve of your body, a slit in the leg that is so sinfully high. 
You must feel him staring because you turn your head and meet his eyes with shocking quickness. Kyle composes himself, not wanting to be labeled as the creepy neighbor, and gives a wave with a polite, friendly smile. You smile back, almost bashful, as you shift on your feet. 
Say something, he scolds himself, don’t just stare.
“What’s the occasion?” he asks once he’s managed to find his voice. You raise a brow, something like amusement crossing your face. 
“Valentine’s Day?” you laugh softly with a tilt of your head. 
Right. It was the 14th, wasn’t it? It’d been so long since he’d celebrated–or had someone to celebrate with–Kyle had stopped thinking about the holiday. 
“Fun plans, then?” he says, nodding to your dress and trying his hardest not to stare at the way your pearl necklace dips into the deep neckline. 
You shrug, and there’s a quick, nervous glance back to your door, “Not sure, yet. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”
Your smile falls just a bit before you overcompensate and replace it with an even bigger one, but Kyle–too observant for his own good–sees right through you.
“Not a fan of surprises?” Kyle asks before he can stop himself. 
“I–”
Your door opens, and Kyle notices the way you jump at the noise. He keeps the smile on his face, but he can feel his jaw tensing as your boyfriend steps out in his crisp black suit and red tie. He ignores Kyle altogether, sliding a hand around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. The two of you exchange quiet words before he begins to guide you toward the lift. 
You glance over your shoulder, giving Kyle a quick smile. You turn away before he has time to smile back, and Kyle resigns himself to a night alone. 
April
He’s gone for a month, but he thinks about you every day. 
He tells himself it’s curiosity, that there’s nothing wrong with wanting to get to know the new person living next to him. It’s all purely platonic. 
He knows he’s lying. 
When he finally returns home, after a draining month of blood and dry sand, he finds himself hoping to see you.
He doesn’t, not for a few days anyway. You don’t appear until he’s coming back from his morning run. He’s walking into the lobby, too busy looking at his phone, just as you’re walking out, too focused on the drink in your hand. 
You collide with him, falling into a tangle of limbs and hot coffee. There’s a flurry of apologies from both ends, only worsening when Kyle notices the coffee stain on your cream sweater. You shrug it off, telling him you weren’t going anywhere important anyway, but the guilt is still there. 
He knows he should make it up to you, so he does the only thing he can think of.
He offers to bring you up to his place and take one of his sweaters while he cleans yours.
Your face drops into an expression of shock, and worry courses through him, but you shake yourself out of your daze and, surprisingly, you agree. 
He tries to ignore the hammering of his heart as he leads you up to his flat. You don’t seem bothered, perhaps a little too trusting, following him inside without comment. 
The first thing you do is compliment his home, and Kyle feels shyness creeping up his spine. He points you to his bedroom, telling you to pick anything you want while he waits in the kitchen. He makes himself a cup of tea, trying to soothe the nerves building up in his chest. 
This isn’t how he expected his day to go, but he’s not complaining. Not when you’re feet away in his bedroom, looking through his closet so you can wear one of his shirts. 
She has a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop it. 
No matter how much he bullies himself, Kyle can’t find it in him to care.
“Military, huh?”
Kyle looks up, ready to give some snarky retort, but he sees you wearing that worn grey sweater with his last name faded across the back and his mind stops working. 
You stare at him expectantly, clearing your throat as you hold out your ruined sweater. “You alright?”
Kyle snaps out of it, taking the sweater with a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 
He most certainly is not fine and is quick to distract himself by setting your sweater on the counter as he fills a bowl with warm water from the tap. You take a seat at the counter, watching him mix vinegar and dish-washing detergent together with an adorable curiosity. 
“I had a cousin in the military,” you speak, leaning your elbows on the counter. 
Kyle chuckles, taking a rag and soaking it in the bowl. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “He never had any interesting stories, though.”
Kyle glances up at you, right in time to catch you looking at him with a sly, curious smile on your face.
“I take it you think I do?” he asks, smirk pulling at his lips as he dabs at the coffee stain on your sweater with the damp rag. 
“Do you?” You lean forward slightly, eager interest laced in your voice.
If you were anyone else he would say no, shut down the conversation before it could even begin. But you’re not anyone else, and all it takes is one look at those eyes for him to give in. 
He keeps things vague and harmless, enough to be interesting for you without revealing any important information or going into gory detail, and you hang on to every word with a refreshing fascination. You ask thoughtful questions, laugh at his cheesy jokes, and listen with an intensity he’s rarely seen, even on base. 
You urge him to continue once he’s done, pressing for more, and he’s all too happy to oblige. 
You spend the entire day with him, moving from the kitchen to the living room once your sweater is coffee-free. You don’t bother changing out of Kyle’s, far too interested in what he’s saying to consider even a few minutes of distraction. 
When the conversation shifts to lighter subjects, neither of you seems to mind. In fact, Kyle offers to make lunch, and you agree with a speed that has both of you laughing.  
You’re so easy to talk to, Kyle finds. He would talk to you forever if you allowed it, and he hopes you feel the same. He thinks you do, judging by the way you ignore your phone every time it chimes in favor of continuing your conversation.
Eventually, the sun begins to sink behind the horizon and your phone starts ringing. You roll your eyes, answering with a calm voice despite the way your shoulders tense. 
The conversation is short, and you hang up with a huff. 
“I should probably get going,” you sigh, offering him an apologetic smile. 
“It’s alright,” Kyle shrugs, an easy smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s not like you don’t live right next door.” 
You excuse yourself to change back into your sweater and bid him goodbye with a sweet smile that almost has him begging for you to stay. 
He finds his sweater folded up on the end of his bed, and his heart aches at the lingering scent of your perfume.
August
In the following months, you and Kyle become close friends.
Almost as close as he and Soap, which is saying something.
When he has to leave again, he lets you know, and you surprise him with a care package of homemade cookies and a letter the day before he leaves. You say it’s from you and your boyfriend, but you both know it isn’t; the man has actively ignored Kyle despite your best efforts to introduce them. 
Soap eats most of the cookies, but Kyle doesn’t mind, too enamored with your letter. Your letter is as cute as you are, well wishes for him to come home safe, and carrying the soft scent of your perfume. He reads it almost every night, and Soap has no problem making fun of him for it. 
“Some friend, ye got there,” Soap laughs. “Sure that’s all it is?”
Kyle knows what he should say. 
She’s seeing someone else. We’re just friends.
But Soap gives him that knowing look, and Kyle knows he can’t continue to lie to himself. 
It’s not like you’re happy with him. He’s heard you and your boyfriend fighting through the walls–voices raised, but not quite yelling–and he sees the irritation that causes you to tense when he calls or texts. You don’t smile the same when you’re with him, not like the happy carefree grin you give Kyle.
When the mission is finally finished, and Kyle is granted permission to go home, he’s made up his mind. He’s going to tell you how he feels, and let you decide where to go from there. 
Or that was the plan until he knocks on your door and you answer with red eyes, obviously swollen from crying. 
You don’t give him a chance to ask what’s wrong, throwing yourself into his arms as you sob into his chest. He guides you into your entryway, closing the door behind him with his boot. He calms and soothes you, cooing soft words and light kisses of comfort into your hair as he runs his hands up and down your back. 
He lets you cry as long as you need to, and it takes almost an hour for you to calm down enough to tell him what’s happened.
You had come home from work two days ago to find your boyfriend with another woman in your bed. He used the excuse that you had Kyle, so it was only fair that he got to get some for himself too. You had screamed and yelled and raged, throwing him out that same day as he spewed obscenities at you.
The crying starts again, and Kyle is quick to calm you, assuring you that everything’s going to be alright. 
“Didn’t need him anyway,” he huffs.
“Yeah, fuck him,” you pout, and Kyle agrees wholeheartedly.
The wallowing takes its toll on you, cries shifting to a long yawn as your eyes begin to droop. You lean your head on his shoulder, body sagging against the solid weight of him. Kyle urges you to get some sleep, offering to take the couch if you need him there. 
“No,” you mumble. “I can’t sleep here. Not in that bed.”
If he were a better man, he’d suggest the couch while he slept on the floor. 
Instead, he leads you next door, straight to his bed, where he helps tuck you in. Your eyes shut the moment your head hits the pillow, and something tugs at his heat when you subconsciously curl into his blankets. 
He turns to leave and let you have your much-needed rest, but the moment he does, your hand reaches out and wraps around his. You blink at him, eyes wide and sad, and whisper into the room, “Stay.”
And in that moment, Kyle knows he’ll never be able to deny you anything.
December
Kyle insists on taking time for yourself and letting you properly heal before jumping right into things with him. 
He’s frustratingly right, and you appreciate his concern for you, but that doesn’t change how much you feel for him. 
Your now ex-boyfriend had been right to an extent; you certainly felt things for Kyle you hadn’t felt for him in a long time. Of course, you never acted on those feelings–unlike him–staying close to Kyle while keeping things platonic. 
You’d seen it coming for a while, if you were honest with yourself. The new place was a temporary fix, a flimsy band-aid slapped over an ever-growing crack in the glass of an aquarium. You knew you deserved better than his dependency and weaponized incompetence.
You knew the flood was imminent, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.  
But now he’s gone, and while you know you need time to recover, it’s hard to concentrate when Kyle hands you a key to his flat and tells you you’re welcome anytime. 
You try to tell him you’re fine, that the ending of your relationship had been more like a weight lifting from your shoulders, but he insists you take at least two weeks and one therapy visit before making your decision.
You oblige, and you have to admit he knows what he’s talking about. When the two weeks are up, you tell him you need more time, ignoring the smug grin on his face. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t taunt you with an I told you so, but you can see it in his eyes. He does tell you he’s proud of you, and you ride the high that gives you all the way to your next therapist visit. 
Kyle leaves in the last week of August, letting you spend his last night with him in his bed. He doesn’t make a move on you, simply holding you close while murmuring impossible promises of safety and success to your sleeping form. 
It’s agony waiting for him to return, never knowing what could be happening to him while you’re safe and sound in the comfort of his home. The space is good for you, though. It gives you time to process things, to really talk through your emotions and concerns with your wonderfully patient therapist. 
You’ve barely been in your own home in the past few months, the anxiety and betrayal that stalks the halls too much for you to handle, and she helps you realize that you need to make some changes. 
So, when Kyle returns at the end of November, he finds you in his kitchen, dancing along to a song on your phone as you cook something that smells positively delicious. 
He’s content to watch you, welcoming the sight of you after a long and tedious mission.
It’s something he could get used to coming home to. 
When you finally notice him, it only takes a second for the realization to hit you before you’re leaping into his arms with an excited cheer. Kyle wastes no time, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as he can, welcoming your familiar warmth and scent. He tries to lean forward to tuck his face into your neck, but you stop him, placing your hands on his jaw.
He stares at you curiously, watching your eyes dip down to his mouth before you pull him forward to close the gap. A year’s worth of swallowed emotions pour into the kiss, and when you pull away, Kyle chases after you to kiss you again. 
You spend the rest of the night attached to one another. Kyle “helps” you cook, keeping his hands on your hips as he peppers smiling kisses and gentle nips down your neck. You push him away with sweet giggles, but he always comes back seconds later. 
When dinner’s done and eaten, he pulls you to the couch into his lap, so he can continue smothering you in kisses. You meet him kiss for kiss, unable to get enough of him. It takes nearly an hour before you’re able to separate yourself from him to give him your news. 
“I’m not renewing my lease,” you murmur against his kiss-swollen lips, a shy glance up to look him in his beautiful, brown eyes. “Figured I should look for a new place that isn’t littered with memories of that bastard.” 
Kyle hums thoughtfully, trailing kisses along your cheek. “Plenty of room here.”
You click your tongue, laying a hand on his cheek to turn his face to look directly at you. “Kyle–”
“It’s not like that’s not where this was going anyway, right?” He gives you another chaste kiss and a cheeky smile. “You already have a key. Might as well–”
“Make it official?” you laugh. 
“Exactly.” 
You let out a long, exaggerated sigh with a dramatic roll of your eyes. “Fine, you’ve managed to convince me–”
You don’t get to finish, as Kyle cups your jaw and pulls you into another kiss.
January
After a long night of celebrating and congratulations from his teammates, Kyle’s girlfriend officially moves in the day after New Year’s.
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493 notes · View notes
swanlakebaby · 2 months
Text
— valentines special | pjm
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about: spending valentine’s day night with jimin.
prompt: valentines day w/ jimin.
⸝⸝ pairing: dom!jimin x sub!reader
⸝⸝ warnings: orgasm, smut, dom jimin, sub reader, bf jimin, hair pulling, bondage, fingering, squirting, etc
⸝⸝ word count: 1.1k
⸝⸝ note: n/a
nsfw, 18+, minors dni
-
“tell me if it’s too tight , okay?” jimin says , tightening the ropes on your wrists. you nod silently , watching as he begins to rub all over your body. you shiver at his touch , aroused in a way that you’ve never felt before. he stands in front of you shirtless , wearing nothing but his boxers.
he hovers over you , rubbing his hands all over your chest area , applying oil onto your stomach. he quickly opens your legs , spreading them as you lie there watching him. he gets in between your legs , lowering himself to give you a quick kiss. he grabs another piece of rope , tightly tying it around your ankles.
he grabs his cock from his boxers and takes it out , stroking himself slightly to get himself hard. he grabs the strings of rope from your ankles and holds onto them , lining his cock up with you. he forcefully pushes himself inside of you , making your insides tense up at the sudden pressure.
not being able to move , you shut your eyes and bite your tongue. jimin looks down at you with no identifiable expression on his face. the room is dim and low volume music plays in the background. he doesn’t move right away , allowing your body to adjust to the feeling of him deep inside of you.
holding onto the ends of the ropes , he puts your legs together over his chest. he wraps his arms around your legs , beginning to passionately stroke inside of you. you whimper , throwing your head back. you try to bring your wrists closer to your face but the tightness of the rope doesn’t allow you to.
jimin smirks , not slowing down. jimin then places your legs around him , lowering himself on top of you , sucking on your neck and leaving territorial marks on you. he nibbles on a small piece of your neck , making you yelp at the pinch feeling from his teeth. he giggles placing his hands around your neck , and squeezing slightly , sure to not actually hurt you.
once he has a firm grip on your neck , he begins to roughly fuck you , the bed shaky and squeaking with each stroke. aggressive moans fill the atmosphere , the sound of sticky skin slapping together. slowing down , he slides out of you and begins untying the rope from your wrists. your wrists are burning and slightly red.
“put your hands together” jimin says in an orderly tone. you do as he says , jimin grabs one of the pieces of rope and ties your wrists together now. he turns you around on all fours , making you use your elbows to hold yourself up. he rubs his tip against the entrance of your vagina before pushing himself in. he groans loudly and curses under his breath. he grabs the oil and begins rubbing it all over your butt. he slowly strokes in and out of you as he does so , making your butt slick and shiny.
he cups his hands on both sides of your waist , fucking you. you arch your back in pleasure , either begging him to go faster or harder. a sharp jolt of pleasurable pain sends a shock through your body as jimin begins to spank you , telling you to shutup and take it.
after a few moments , he slides out. he slowly inserts one of his fingers inside of you , fucking you with his finger. you shake your legs , trying your hardest not to cum. jimin notices and laughs at how much pleasure he’s causing you. he inserts another finger and picks up the pace until you’re practically fucking your self on his fingers. suddenly , he holds you still , ramming his fingers into you at a fast speed.
your breath skips , your stomach feeling tight and tense before a wave of relief comes over your body. you cum onto his fingers , the sounds of your cum on his fingers as he slowly fingers you now. he slaps your butt , taking his fingers out and licking them clean.
your body feels tired , but you know jimin isn’t done.
he grabs onto your hair , lifting your face up from the bed. he pulls you off of the bed and onto your knees as he stands in front of you. he reaches over and grabs a small piece of chocolate , placing it into your mouth. you look up at him as you chew and he softly smirks down at you. “good” he says.
with your wrists still tied together , you place them in between your legs as you sit up on your knees. jimin grabs his cock and puts it on your mouth , letting you take over from there.
you begin to suck him of , his tip feeling slick and firm. he groans huskily as you let his tip rub against the side of your mouth. he curses under his breath , getting a firm grip of your hair before beginning to fuck your mouth. saliva quickly filters out of your mouth and drips onto his cock and the floor. he doesn’t stop , cupping his free hand under your chin as he continues. your eyes begin to water as you beg for him to be softer.
he listens to this request , slowing down. he seems out of breath , but stands you up and bends you over the bed with your legs spread. he lowers himself and gives you a lick on your clit , causing your now extra sensitive nerves to flutter a bit. he places his hand on your clit and begins to harshly rub against it. your moans are loud as you beg him to be harder and faster.
your knees go weak as you suddenly feel liquid rush out of you and onto his hand. he slaps your butt , slowing down his pace. squirt runs down your thighs as he stands up , leaving you bent over the bed in a shaking orgasm.
he wipes his hand off with a towel , before beginning to stroke himself from behind you. you turn your head to face him as you watch , not moving. he slaps his cock against your butt before throwing his head back , releasing his cum all over you. you see as his chest rises and falls rapidly as he finishes. he runs his hands through his hair , tired and worn out.
bending down over you , he kisses you , biting your lip softly , still out of breath.
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written by swanlakebaby™
186 notes · View notes
rileyslibrary · 1 year
Text
Meal, Under-the-Stars
Summary: Simon’s inability to show affection irritates you. Until Valentine’s Day arrives.
Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: 1,360
Notes:
angst/fluff
*sighs* it’s almost Valentine’s so *gestures aggressively at the fic*
i made sure it’s the least amount of cringe, pinky promise
Want more?
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You collapse in your bus seat, travelling home after another long day at the office. The chair feels too stiff, and the ride is too bumpy. That’s what you get for missing your bus and taking a different route. Damn it. Your neck is tense from the hours of hunching over the computer, and a pulsing pain has settled behind your eyes, threatening to rip your skull apart. As if your physical agony wasn’t enough, the bus’s noises aren’t helping. Without your headphones, you’re left to suffer in silence and listen to the people around you.
The two women in front of you talk nonstop about their upcoming Valentine’s Day plans. The first, with a smug look, reveals how her boyfriend has planned a romantic getaway to Europe. You can almost hear the silent “aren’t I lucky?” that hovers at the end of her sentence. Her friend humbly brags back about her partner taking her to a jewellery store where she can pick out whatever she wants. You suppress a groan and roll your eyes instead.
You turn to your left. Your attention is drawn to a man whose face is concealed by a towering bouquet of flowers. The sight of him and the enormous gift next to him makes you wonder. Could it be chocolates? The package seems too bulky for that. Lingerie maybe? It looks too heavy for delicate lace. Perhaps it contains the embodiment of his love for his significant other, ripped from his soul and transformed into a tangible form, you ponder sarcastically.
The image of Capitalism, dressed in a three-piece tailored suit and hat, sitting on a throne made of kitschy teddy bears, comes to mind. He sips a glass of wine made from rose petals and sneers at the spectacle before him: people spending their hard-earned money on unnecessary gifts and experiences, all in the name of love. When did a simple and sincere “I love you” become insufficient? When did it become necessary to spend a fortune on extravagant trips, sparkling diamonds, and wrapped boxes filled with empty promises? Did your grandparents go to such lengths to express their affection, or is this just the plague of your generation?
And why does this all bother you so much? Could it be that Simon’s inability to express his affection for you is causing your bitterness? You recall Aesop’s fable about the fox and the grapes. Like the fox, you cannot grasp what you want, so you try to convince yourself that what others have is, like the grapes, sour. Admit it: you’re envious of those who are happily celebrating Valentine’s Day, surrounded by love and affection, while you’re on your way home to a strained relationship, where love is shown through practical acts like fixing the thermostat or reminding you to take an umbrella on a potentially rainy day.
You knew he was reserved and guarded the moment you met him. “A mystery wrapped in a balaclava”, you used to jokingly call him. It took months of building rapport and earning his trust before he finally revealed his face to you. But, despite this, you find yourself wanting more. Wasn’t this enough? Get a grip, sweetheart; Valentine’s Day is for the rest of the world, not you two.
As the bus pulls to a stop, you rise from your seat and step off, feeling heavy and reluctant as you make your way home. The weight of your expectations slows your pace as if you are afraid to face reality—that the love you seek may not be the love he is capable of giving...
You reach the front steps, the cool metal of the key turning in your hand as you unlock the door. You push it open, the emptiness inside greeting you like an old friend. Something on the floor catches your attention; military bags and tactical gear are neatly arranged near the entrance. You look across the kitchen table to see a map with checkmarks on it. Has he been summoned for a mission and forgotten to tell you? No, it cannot be; this is far worse than you expected.
As you make your way down the hall, the noise coming from the bedroom fills the silence. The door is slightly ajar, and you push it open to find him standing before you, freshly showered and wrapped in a crisp white towel from the waist down. Droplets of water cling to his damp hair, with strands hanging over his forehead. His towering stature is imposing, his muscles resembling those of a Greek statue carved by a master artist. Like faded memories of battles fought, scars are dotted across his body, each telling a tale of modern warfare.
He smirks as you enter the room, but you can’t help the flare of anger that rises within you.
“You’re late,” he says, continuing to dry himself.
How dare he.
“Traffic,” you respond, trying to steady your voice. “Where are you going?”
“We are going,” he corrects you nonchalantly.
Huh?!
“W-we?” you stammer. “Simon, where are we going?”
“Out,” he says with a smirk.
You frown at him. You’re exhausted—tired of work, tired of the long trip back home, tired of his mysterious demeanour. You need answers—complete, coherent, straightforward answers—and you need them fast. Now.
“Care to explain further, Simon?” you ask, trying to compose yourself.
“We're going camping,” he says as he starts putting on his gear.
Your heartbeat quickens. Suddenly the grapes are not sour anymore. They seem sweet again.
“So, camping, huh?” you ask with a cheeky grin. “Why?”
“Don’t make me say it,” he says sternly. “I’ve seen enough atrocities to know what today is.”
“You never struck me as the romantic sort, Mr Riley,” you reply.
“Oh, but I am romantic, my love,” he corrects you. “Just not the cliché type.”
But, of course! That’s why you fell for him in the first place. He’s not your typical guy. He may not serenade you, but he’ll fix things with his own hands. And he won’t kneel on one leg to recite poetry, but he’ll ensure you’re warm, safe, and fed.
Fed. Food. Did he think about food?
“I’ll prepare something quick to take with us,” you tell him.
“No need to,” he replies. “I’ve prepared an outstanding variety of MREs for us.”
What a guy.
“What about me?” you ask pointing at his gear. “I don’t have the appropriate clothing for this.”
He looks amused. “That’s weird,” he comments. “I’m sure I saw something at the entrance earlier today.”
You stare at him, confused, dash to the front door, and inspect the gear you saw earlier. To your surprise, it’s all your size.
You slip into the gear, feeling its weight and texture against your skin. The material is rugged yet flexible, allowing you to move easily. You run your hand over the pockets, checking to ensure everything is in place, before returning to the bedroom.
As you enter, Simon looks up from his bag, and his gaze travels down your form. You stand tall and proud; sure, you’re still tired and in pain, but at least you’re happy. You twirl for him to get a better look.
He nods his approval with a smile. “You look like a proper camper,” he says jokingly. “I had no idea you had it in you.”
“Come on, Simon!” You shout, fists clenching at your sides as you stand in the doorway. “It’s Valentine’s Day,” you implore, your voice growing softer. “At least say something nice.”
He regards you, his lips curling upward in amusement. “Alright, alright,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. “You want something nice?” He asks, and you nod, smiling.
“You got it.” He steps closer, towering over you, and gazes down with warm and tender eyes. “You look beautiful,” he says. “Absolutely stunning.”
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1K notes · View notes
changisworld · 2 months
Text
Kisses & Ribbons
What better day to write my first Hyunjin one-shot than on Valentines day <3
MDNI, OBVIOUS 18+, Smut warnings under the cut.
Word count; 2,301
©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.
PSA FOR ASKS/REQUESTS: i WILL get around to posting everyone’s requests i’m just sorry if it takes a bit of time but whatever you request i’ll post it!! IM ALSO MAKING AN ANON LIST!! just send me anything & tell me what emoji u wanna be!<3
Any reblogs/ Comments are deeply appreciated<3 This is just complete smut with literally no plot.
main masterlist here
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SMUT WARNINGS: Marking{f receive} Shibari, PIV, Use of vibrator, lots of praise, a few spanks, spit, creampie, lovemaking, quite fluffy, aftercare, oral {f receive}, experimenting, mention of safe word but not used, flavoured lube, subspace, multiple orgasms,
++ Hyunjin & Reader are married, non idol au, Hyunjin is still a hopeless romantic because DUHH.
You & Hyunjin are just back from a live Jazz music restaurant where you had both decided to spend valentines day, eating delicious food & slow dancing to the music surrounding you but cancelling out as you enjoy the closeness of your husband.
You both practically tumble through the door already kissing eachothers lips, his feeling like mini pillows against your own. You take off his long cream coloured coat & he takes off your matching one.
You both somehow make it to the bedroom before he softly places you on the bed, him following after you & his stomach on your chest, keeping his weight on his elbows & hands before breaking the kiss. "You still up for trying what we discussed, beautiful?" he asks, stroking your hair softly as his eyes glisten. You smile at him & lean up to kiss his nose & you let out an affirmative hum. "of course, i've been thinking about it ever since you mentioned it hunny" you say in a quiet voice, cheeks blushing. Hyunjin hums back at you & he disconnects himself from you, now standing up as he walks over to your shared wardrobe as he fishes out a red velvet box.
He walks over & places it on the bed, not opening it but instead looks back at you. "why not you get undressed for me baby, hmm?" He asks, his ears red & yours equally so. You undo your beige blouse & hyunjin settles himself behind you, helping you wiggle out of your black skirt & tights, kissing your shoulder & back of your neck as he does so.
Hyunjin takes his clothes off too after setting you back down on the bed, leaving him completely bare & you in your red lace thong & matching panties. Hyunjin crawls over you & begins kissing you, his knee in-between your core, your hands reach up to cup his cheeks as you subconsciously begin slowly grinding against his thigh, seeking friction. "You that desperate already baby?" he asks you, hand reaching to your core & cups it. "We can start now then pretty, as stunning as you look in this set, do you mind taking it off for me hm?" he asks you as he lifts himself off of you to reach for the red box still sitting unopened on the bed.
You wriggle your thong off your skin & unclasp your lace bra, your nipples getting hard instantly at the slight temperature change since the material has now came off. Hyunjin opens the box & pulls out a set of red rope with some pieces of ribbon still laying in the box. Your breath hitches slightly as your stomach gets butterflies looking at hyunjin, your husband, holding the rope in his hands. "Can touch it? I wanna feel it." You ask, holding your hand out, he hums & holds the rope out so you can take it as he sits down next to you.
"Are you definitely are you wanna do this sweetie? We don't need to if you're having any sort of second thoughts." Hyunjin says softly, taking the rope back off you as he leans in to your neck & gives your earlobe a couple of kisses. "Of course i want to, you know i'll tell you if i change my mind babe" you reply, eyes closing to fully take in how nice his kisses feel. Hyunjiin hums again & pulls away from your neck, your back shivering at the loss of contact.
"Okay, do you remember the safe word y/n? You can use it any time.. of course." His voice soft in tone, now straightening out the rope in his hands. "red. I won't forget." You blush as you watch hyunjins veiny hands feeling the rope. He smiles back.
"Okay baby, lie down for me for me please." You don't even think twice before crawling up so your head is on the pillows, hyunjin following behind.
Hyunjin begins tying the red rope around each of your limbs & torso, creating chriss-crosses in-between your tits, slightly pinching them before slightly manhandling you, flipping you on your back to finish the ties, kissing each inch of skin he covers. By the end, your hands are tied to your stomach, immobile, your legs connected to your hands so you're in a mating press & you have rope on the very insides of your thighs, causing a slight pinch & burn on your outer flaps. He grabs the ribbons that were still inside the box & ties them to your knees, one above your pussy & the other one on the bits of rope that cross over in-between your breasts.
Hyunjin finishes tying you up before standing up to admire hiss work & also to admire you. "Does anything pinch or hurt more than it should?" He questions, finger stroking your leg. "No, i'm fine to continue hunny." you reply, showing him a smile.
Hyunjin walks over to the bedside table beside you & pulls out some strawberry flavoured lube & a small bullet vibrator. He kisses you from the side which you gladly reciprocate, feeling extra needy. He walks around & crawls up the bed so his face is now at your now dripping cunt. "Look how wet you are jagi, my mouth is watering even looking at it.already swollen, your clit is peeking through already." He shoots you a smile & you blush instantly, getting a bit shy.
He flicks open the small bottle of flavoured lube & lets a few droplets drip onto your cunt which makes you flinch but the rope makes it impossible to move away. He opens his tongue & puts a bit of the lube on it before he moves down & takes a long, slow lick the entire way up your core, making you gasp as he lets out a groan. He pulls back to spit onto your core. "I don't know why i ate dessert earlier when i knew this can't be compared to anything on any menu in the world. Pussy is so plump & swollen because of the rope isn't it? You enjoy it this much hmm?"" He hums out, looking at you with his cat eyes. "Feels so good jinnie, don't stop, please." You tilt your head sideways to avoid the eye contact, getting shy of the position & helpless position you're currently in but he is quick to tug at one of the ropes up at your tits, making you jolt & you look back in his direction, eyes slightly watery from the burn. "Don't get all shy on me now, we're just getting started." He doesn't give you a chance to reply before he basically dives back into your folds.
He begins slurping, nibbling, kissing & straight up moans into your core which obviously sends vibrations to your clit, making you whine out even louder than hyunjins noises. He adds a finger into your wet walls & that tip you over the edge instantly, your legs try their best to shake despite the rope keeping you set in place as you come undone all down his fingers & tongue. You open your eyes as you come down from your high & realise hyunjin has been giving you kisses & sucking dark marks onto them while he waits. "Ji-jinnie need you, p-please" you pant out, still trying to catch your breath & tugging against the ropes holding your arms. "Soon, y/n, be patient. I'm not quite full yet mkay? let me show you how much i love you." you can't help but get butterflies in your stomach, despite being together for so long now.
You open your mouth to reply but the words get caught in your throat as he dives straight back into your cunt, letting his nose nudge against your clit repeatedly as his tongue now makes its way inside you, making you practically squeal. You try your best to jolt your hips away but also closer to his face at the same time, you don't even acknowledge the now buzzing vibrator now making noise until it presses against your completely ruined clit which makes you quite literally scream. "J-jin-baby too-too much!" you say, tugging against your ropes, to no use.
Hyunjin doesn't reply verbally as he now releases his tongue from your hole, your juices dripping off his tongue onto the bedsheets, joining the huge wet patch already formed on the bedsheets with the lube, spit & your juices. He drags the vibrator down from your clit & inserts it inside you as he now suctions his lips back onto your clit & begins wiggling his tongue & spitting his saliva all over your clit as he swears he can feel your clits heartbeat, at the same time he begins grinding his naked cock against the bed, getting some friction & stopping his movements every time he feels himself getting close. You are thrashing around, eyes watering & drool leaving your mouth, leaving you in a complete babbling mess.
Your next orgasm hits you before you can even warn him.. your orgasm making itself known by spraying all over the bedsheets, hyunjins face & in his mouth. He unlatches himself as you're legs are shaking uncontrollably & he smacks your thighs & red raw pussy, making you scream even more.
Hyunjin takes his breath back as he rests on his knees, looking at the state you're currently in, sweaty, drool everywhere, tears staining your cheeks, skin all red from where the rope has been rubbing against it, leaving marks he will be appreciating even after tonight & your cunt, red, pulsating & 1.5x the size it usually is.
He crawls up the bed so he is beside you,face still covered & glistening in your juices & rests his head on his hand as he grips your jaw to make you look at him. "You already floating hm? That's way faster than usual.. new record, you still wanna continue?" He asks, fingers still holding onto your jaw as he slithers his thumb into your mouth & you let him, tongue circling it slowly as you nod at his words, giving him the go-ahead.
Hyunjin gets off the bed before walking around to your side of the bed & he pulls you so your ass is against the edge of the bed & your head is in the middle. He drags his cock up & down your folds because he can't help but be addicted to the way you slightly gasp at his touch but too far in your own world to even properly react or flinch.
He spits onto his cock to lube it up that extra bit & then pulls out the vibrator, completely soaking wet as he turns it off & lays it on the bed. He pumps his cock once then lines it up to your folds before slowly pushing in.
He lets out a loud groan as his eyes snap shut & his head rises up to face the ceiling, trying his best to not blow instantly. He looks down at you to already see you looking at him, mouth slightly open as your eyebrows are slightly frowned, making faint noises. He thrusts into you slowly, both of you making noises, his much louder than yours, He wants.. needs to be closer to you so he unties your legs from where they're connected & he spreads them enough so he can lie forward, chests connecting as he begins kissing down your neck, whispering things in your ear. "so good for me hunny, trusting me like this.. you are the most beautiful person.. thing, in this entire existence, you.. feel s-so amazing my love, g'na cum in your..my pussy mkay?ffuck." He raises himself off your chest & stands back up, moving his now damp, sweat drenched hair out of his also sweat covered face.
He reaches down to tug on the rope against your tits again, dragging red marks into your flesh which makes him whine even more just simply at the sight. Your eyes are completely glossy as your tongue is rolling out of your mouth & your babbling incoherent words. Hyunjin reaches down to play with your clit again & you let out a choked louder whine at the feeling, twitching as you clamp around hyunjins dick as you come again, even stronger than the previous ones if that's even possible which makes Hyunjins hips stutter.
"cummin' around me b-baby? g-g-d you're a w-w-work of art, my own muse, gna cum, t-t-you feel too good." He grunts as he leans into you again, stroking your cheek & your hair s he cums inside you, biting down on his pink plump lips as his own orgasm shoots through his veins.
You both stay in this position for a few minutes, heavy breathing & little whimpers filling the room. Hyunjin uses the rest of his strength to pick himself up again & he begins untying you from the rope, kissing all of the red marks & soothing them with his fingers. He leans up & kisses your lips & tip of your nose before he grabs a damp towel he set on the dresser before the scene started & slowly wipes your cunt, cleaning it up & trying to help calm down some of the swelling.
He positions you back up so your head is on the pillows & comes up & lies next to you as he gets the bottle of water he had left in the bedroom & opens it & holds it to your lips. "cmon baba, you gotta drink this, hm? this took a lot out of you" he whispers in your ear, you don't reply but you part your lips for him to feed you some water which you swallow. He places the water bottle back on the bedside table & he cuddles into you, surrounding you in his warmth as he kisses all possible areas he can reach of you. "Happpy valentines day, my love" he says, kissing your earlobe, admiring you as your eyes shut, breathing now calming down as you nuzzle yourself in his chest, skin on skin as you're both still lying naked, no noise in the room except the clock ticking & your breathing.
254 notes · View notes
crazyunsexycool · 2 months
Text
My Little Love
💖It's Valentine's Day 💖
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word count: 2.1K
warning: none this is just some pure fluff. Maybe Lottie trying to play cupid....
A/N: I wasn't going to write anything for Valentine's Day but I was inspired by @jvanilly 's ask so here it is.
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“Dada no wook.” Charlotte says loudly as she hides around the corner from the living room. 
“Should I close my eyes, doll?” 
“Yes, pwease.” 
“Ok, they’re closed.” Bucky says with a smile at whatever it is that Lottie is up to now. He can hear her footsteps although they’re light against the hardwood floors. 
“Ok wook it.” 
Bucky opens his eyes to find Charlotte standing in front of him wearing a white shirt with a big pink heart, a pink tutu and white fluffy wings that look like they belong to angels on her back. Her hair is up in a twist held up in a heart shaped clip.
“Who do we have here? Are you Cupid?” 
“Mmhhmmm. You wike it?” She asks as she does a spin for him to see the whole outfit. 
“You’re the prettiest Cupid I’ve ever seen, doll.” 
Lottie gets bashful and giggles at the compliment. 
“Habe suwpwise.” 
“For me?” 
Lottie nods her head and holds out a handmade card for him. It’s a heart cut out of red construction paper glued to a white piece of paper and so much glitter. 
“This is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Did you make this yourself?”
“Yeah.” She says shyly while looking up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. 
“Thank you, doll. I love it.” Bucky picks her up and gives her a chaste kiss on her forehead.
“Dada?”
“Yeah, doll?” 
“Dada be my vawentine?”
Bucky smiles down at his little girl. “I would love to be your valentine. Are you going to be mine?”
“Yeah. I be dada’s vawentine.”
“Good. Your first valentine’s day has to be special.” 
****
“Hi mama.” Henry said almost as soon as you stepped out of the master bedroom. 
“Hi sweet boy. What are you up to?” 
“Nothing. Well something.” Henry gives you a sheepish look. 
You narrow your eyes in his direction with a bit of suspicion. But his innocent smile let you know whatever he’s up to isn’t anything mischievous. Henry holds up a construction paper heart, and a few paper flowers. 
“Will you be my valentine’s mama?” 
“I would love to be your valentine.” You accept the flowers and the cards before giving him a hug. “Are you going to be my valentine’s too?”
Henry nods against your midsection before pulling away. 
“Well we have to make your first valentine’s day super special, sweet boy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~
At Charlotte’s request you had curled her hair, pinning half of it up with heart shaped pins. You even let her wear a pink tinted lip balm and some soft pink eyeshadow. She was all smiles as she looked in the mirror. 
“Do you like it, sweet angel? You look beautiful.” You said from behind her. Looking at her through the mirror.
“Is so pwetty mama.” 
“I’m glad you like it. Now come on, let's get your dress and shoes on.”
“Kay.” Lottie hops off the stool she was sitting on and gets dressed up in her pink tulle dress with hearts all over. 
“Alright, I’m going to finish getting ready ok.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Alright bubs.” Bucky fixes the collar of Henry’s shirt so that it goes over his graphic tee. Then he smoothes out the cardigan Henry was wearing. “When we knock we give them the flowers and chocolates ok? Also remember to tell them how nice they look.”
“Yup.” 
“Let’s go get our girls then.” Bucky smiles as Henry grabs the flowers that he had picked out himself. 
Bucky follows suit and they walk out of Steve’s apartment where they went to get dressed. Giving you and Lottie privacy to have your own girl’s day as you got ready for the family date. 
At the door Henry knocks and waits for someone to answer the door. Lottie opens it with a huge smile on her face. It’s obvious she’s more than ready and excited for the evening. She lets Henry and Bucky in to wait for you to finish getting ready.
“Hi bubba. Hi dada.” She says. 
“Hi baby. You look so pretty.”
“Tank you bubba.”
“Hello my valentine. You look like a princess.” Bucky takes a knee. 
“Tank you dada.”
“These are for you.” Bucky holds out a small bouquet of flowers for her and a box of chocolates. 
Charlotte gasps as she takes her gifts. She buries her nose in the flowers and inhales just how she has seen you do so many times. 
“Is so nice dada, tank you.” 
“You’re welcome, doll.” 
You walk out a few minutes later, just as Bucky is putting Lottie’s flowers in a vase for her. He lets out a wolf whistle as he watches you reach the living room. You wore a red dress, the sleeves were short but puffy. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt flared out with a slit up one leg. You smile over your shoulder at Bucky before turning your attention to Henry. 
“Hi my sweet valentine.” You tell him.
“Hi mama, you look very pretty.” 
“Thank you, sweet boy.” You smile before giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. 
“These are for you.” 
Henry holds out a box of chocolate and a bouquet of flowers similar to Lottie’s, just a bit bigger. 
“They’re beautiful. Thank you so much. I love them. We have something for you too.” 
Lottie runs off into your room coming back with some boxes of candy for them as well. It’s obvious that Henry and Bucky weren’t expecting anything so it was nice to see their matching smiles.
“Here,” Bucky offers you a vase with water in it already. 
“Thanks baby.” 
You place the flowers in the vase and give him a kiss on the cheek. 
“We should get going.”
“Yeah,” Henry adds. “We have reservations.” 
“Oh you do?” 
“Yup. It's for our date.” 
“I thought we were just going to Tony’s party?” You look up at Bucky who is already helping Lottie into her coat. 
“Well it wouldn’t be a proper date if we didn't take our girls out first now would it?” 
You smile and grab something from your purse. When you stand in front of Bucky you place a red pocket square into his suit pocket. As usual he dressed in an all black suit and a more casual black t-shirt. The red added a little pop of color to tie in everyone’s outfit together. 
“Here mama.” Henry, following Bucky’s lead, holds out your coat.
“Well what a little gentleman.” 
You put on your coat and let them lead you and Lottie out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was still new, the four of you going out as a family. The kids were always excited going out to new places and experiencing new things. Bucky stopped the car at the entrance to the restuarant. The attendant makes his way over quickly to the driver’s side. Bucky steps out and gets the door for Lottie who was sitting behind him. Henry quickly gets out of his seat and gets out to open your door. 
“Thank you my sweet boy.”
“You’re welcome, mama.” He says as he takes your hand. 
The four of you walk into the building. Before you can say anything Henry steps up to the hostess stand.
“Hi ma’am.”
“Hello, how may I help you?” The young woman asks with a smile.
“We have a reservation under Barnes.” 
You couldn’t help but beam as Henry started to get more comfortable interacting with strangers. 
“I see the reservation for four people here. Please follow me.” The young woman walks you through the restaurant to a booth in the back. “Enjoy your evening.”
Lottie sits with Bucky and you sit with Henry. While the restaurant is full of couples you wouldn’t trade being here with the kids. You knew you’d share more than enough one on one time with Bucky later. The four of you have the time of your life at the restaurant. The kids try new foods and get loved on by you and Bucky. They also have the attention of the server that’s taking care of your table. She makes sure to ask them questions, getting the most interesting questions out of Lottie for sure. You can’t help but look across to Bucky and share that magic little moment in which you both relish in being able to enjoy this moment with them. Soon enough though dinner is over and you head back to the tower. 
~~~~~~~~~
Before heading to the party Charlotte insists on going back to the apartment for her cupid getup. Soon enough there’s a four year old running into the main living room with wings and bow and arrow. Her first stop of course is her favorite person ever.
“Steebie am cupid.” She says as he picks her up. 
“And a very cute cupid at that.” 
“Hi.” Lottie calls out to Bruce’s assistant. 
“Hello Charlotte. You look very pretty in your dress.” 
“Tank you. You pwetty too, wight Steebie?” Steve goes beet red in an instant.
“Of course. Your dress is very pretty.” Steve looks at her.
“No Steebie.” Charlotte sends a small glare in his direction. Lottie says her name, “Is pwetty.”
“Please don’t.” She mutters.
“No is kay. Steebie?”
“Yes, you are very pretty.” 
She opens her mouth ready to sass him back but decides against it due to Lottie’s enthusiasm. 
“Thank you, Steve.” 
Lottie feels as if she’s done her job so she wiggles her way out of Steve’s arm’s and does her usual round through the party. 
****
Bucky holds you close as he leads you in a dance. One hand around your waist, the other holding yours against his chest. His cheek rests against your temple. Both of your eyes are closed as he hums along to the song. 
“Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose.
When you kiss me heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose.”
You smile as Bucky continues to serenade you. The song ends but another quickly starts up. Your dancing is interrupted though. 
“Daddy, mama is my valentine. I should be dancing with her.” Henry looks up at him, arms crossed over his chest.
“Ok, ok. Do you happen to know where your sister is?” 
Henry points to the other end of the room. You and Bucky look over to find Charlotte sitting on the bar sharing a cupcake with Sam and laughing. 
“I guess I’ll go get my valentine. Thanks for the dance, Sugar.” Bucky gives you a quick kiss.
“Wanna dance mama?”
“I would love to.” You say as Henry takes your hands and swaying side to side.
****
“Is so yummy Sammy.” Lottie holds up a cupcake with red frosting up for Sam to try. 
Sam narrows his eyes in her direction causing Lottie to giggle. “Are you trying to play a joke on me?” 
“Noooooo. Habe some.”
“Ok.” Sam leans in to take a bite out of the sweet treat but Lottie boops him in the nose with it leaving frosting behind. She throws her head back laughing while Sam playfully grumbles. 
“Is so funny.” 
“Oh you think that's funny?” Sam asks and Lottie nods. “What if I do this?” He takes a big bite of the cupcake she had in her hand. “No cupcake for you.” 
Charlotte is a giggling mess as she grabs another treat from the tray Sam had taken just for them. 
“Are you trying to steal my doll?” Bucky asks as he walks up to them. 
“Maybe I am.” 
“Habe one dada?” Lottie holds up another cupcake for him. He’d seen what she did to Sam and was sure she’d do the same to him. But the laughter was worth a little bit of red frosting on his nose. 
“I would love one.” 
Lottie pulls at the cupcake liner with heart designs on them, then offers it up to Bucky. He’s surprised when Lottie doesn’t try to get the frosting on him so he just eats it.
“Hey,” Sam says with a faux annoyed expression. “Why didn’t you get him?” 
“Dada my vawentine.” She looks up at her dad with so much love that it makes him weak in the knees. 
“Yeah Sam, I’m her Valentine’s go get your own.” He looks back at his little girl. “Wanna dance, Doll?” 
“Yes, pwease.” 
Lottie gives Sam a kiss on the cheek before going into her father’s arms. Bucky walks over to the dance floor and begins to sway. Not too far from him, you stand with Henry in your own dance. You catch each other’s eye and smile. He mouths an I love you which you return. 
All in all it was a very good Valentine’s Day. 
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brokebonewritings · 2 months
Text
Be Mine, Forever?
Matt Murdock x Reader
Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special
Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye
Word Count: 4.4K
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The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day. 
You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.
As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.
Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"
"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"
Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."
"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison. 
She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."
"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.
"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."
You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.
"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.
"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."
You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."
"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."
"Oh shit, really?" 
You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.
"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"
She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."
"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."
"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.
You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."
"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"
You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?
It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.
Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.
"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"
There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."
You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"
Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"
"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"
"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."
You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."
"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.
"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.
"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"
The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."
"That sounds lovely, very romantic."
As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you. 
"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"
"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."
As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.
Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.
You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit. 
"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."
"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."
"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."
"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."
"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.
You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.
"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.
"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."
"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states. 
"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."
They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.
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You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though. 
Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.
Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.
As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.
With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.
You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.
The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.
Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.
The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.
Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.
"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.
"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."
"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.
"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.
You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.
"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.
The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.
Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.
"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."
The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.
Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.
Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.
"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.
As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."
"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.
As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.
"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.
Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.
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On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.
"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.
Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.
His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.
With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.
As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.
"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."
You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."
"Our bed?" 
"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.
He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.
Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.
"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.
You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.
He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.
His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync. 
"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.
"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.
With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.
You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.
"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"
You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"
"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."
"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.
His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."
With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.
"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.
He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.
Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.
Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.
Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.
His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.
"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."
He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."
He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.
Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.
"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.
He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.
A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"
You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table. 
"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."
Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.
He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.
"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."
He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.
He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.
"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.
He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good. 
"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."
That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.
He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.
He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."
He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.
You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. 
"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.
"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.
He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.
"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.
Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.
You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.
He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.
Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.
You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.
"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle. 
"Sorry, too much?"
"Not at all."
"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.
As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.
Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you." 
You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.
"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"
"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."
"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."
"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."
This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."
A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."
As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.
"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.
He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."
"Though I do have one complaint."
"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.
"You never asked me to be your valentine."
Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
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faith-forgxtten-land · 2 months
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Hihihi!
I'm not sure if your requests are open, but the fic I just read was a request and was posted within the last 24 hrs, so I'm gonna take the chance that they are (can you tell I'm autistic yet?😂)
Could I request a slightly nsfw (just a lil spicy) Bay!Raph fic where the Fem! Reader is watching him workout and offhandedly mentions that she wishes she could lift as much as he does?
Her question prompts him to let her lay on the bench and "lift" the weights (obviously he's carrying almost all of the weight). Just a corny little piece that shows our Big Red some love.
Thank you for your time!💜
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Spotting | Raphael
requests are open dw!! honestly feel free to send as many requests as you want at any time, if they're not open you'll know because i'll plaster it somewhere obvious. and corny pieces are the best kind <3
since its valentine's day, i kind of went extra corny with a vague valentine's plot... i hope you like it and lemme know what you think! it's only slightly spicy and suggestive because tbh i wasn't sure how far to go.
warnings: suggestive, slight choking? (oops) valentine's day mentions, single people try not cry too much. everyone is 18+!! never proofread
summary: it's valentine's day and for some reason you have nothing better to do than watch raphael lift weights
word count: 1195
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Why are you lifting weights on Valentine’s Day?”
“Why are you watching me lift weights on Valentine’s Day?” Raphael retorts quickly and it’s such a good question that you pause.
Well, then. You sniff in mock indignance. “I’ll have you know that I was asked out by 12.5 different people ahead of today, thank you very much.”
You can’t see it, but you can tell he’s smirking. “12.5?”
“I figure Mikey only counts for 0.5 since I’m pretty sure he’d ask every woman he sees if he could.”
Raph snorts and your mouth pulls into a stupidly wide smile knowing you’ve amused him. He’s so relaxed like this, when it’s just the two of you, and your smile turns soft at the thought. There’s no one you’d rather spend the day with – Valentine’s Day or not – and the view isn’t bad either.
Speaking of... you tilt your head. Rivulets of sweat trickle down his green skin and you bite your lip watching the flexing of his muscles. He’s so much bigger than you, you’re pretty sure his bicep is bigger than your head, and he could cover your entire face with his palm – he’d done it just yesterday when you wouldn’t stop pestering him about a romcom you wanted to watch (it’s okay, you knew they were secretly his favourite kind of movie too, he didn’t have to protest so much – even grown turtles should be allowed to indulge in some Richard Gere and Julia Roberts). 
His size had intimidated you at first, had made you hesitant, but now it makes your knees weak and makes your heart accelerate with something entirely different to fear. It’s quiet apart from his breathing and the clang of his weights and you wonder if he can hear the thundering of your pulse.
“You’re staring.”
“Hmm?”
His muscles flex again and you’re quick to press your thighs together. You’re certain it's deliberate at this point. “You’re staring,” he repeats, his voice a little deeper.
You flush as you realise what he’s saying. “Not my fault you can bench press a truck,” you grumble to hide your embarrassment. “I’m jealous.”
The terrapin smirks again and sits up, his eyes bright. “C’mere.”
“Ex-squeeze me?”
It’s Raph’s turn to grumble. “You’ve been hanging around Mikey too much.”
You grin because it's true and walk slowly towards where he’s waiting. Your feet are clearly more sensible and less fuzzy than your brain (you are definitely not still thinking – and staring – at his arms, nope) because they stop just before you can stand between his legs. His eyes run along the curves of your calves and his gaze feels like a dizzying caress as it glides up your torso, lingering on the bare skin around your throat in a hungry way that makes you swallow just to watch him watch the movement. “What’s the plan, Red?” 
Your voice doesn’t feel like your own and you’re kind of impressed by how put-together you sound. It’s not the breathless wheeze you expected, it's low and sultry and suggestive and your eyes flutter as his breath hitches. The two of you have flirted before but this feels different. It’s intimate beyond your typical friendly banter and you have the urge to touch him.
He reaches for you first, pulling you closer and resting his hands on your hips. His hands are huge, and your mouth feels dry as he squeezes a little too hard to be innocent. “Raph...”
He squeezes again at your murmur. “Lie down.” His voice is rough and you shiver. He brushes his fingers across the goosebumps he’s raised, and you let him manoeuvre you with ease.
It probably looks so silly, and you fight the incredulous laughter that bubbles in your chest. The bar above you is ridiculously oversized and heavy and the thought of you lifting it is absurd and your laugh can’t be stopped this time as you look at the green-skinned ninja above you. His lips are twitching as you cackle and your eyes focus on the scar that decorates them, longing to soothe your tongue over it, as you regain your composure. “You good?”
“I’m good,” you reassure him. He’s so fucking cute, you think. You can see his nervousness now even if he tries to play it off and you feel like you’ve just swallowed a bucketful of butterflies. “Are you spotting?”
Raph runs his tongue – you do not shift your hips at how thick it is – across his upper lip, over that scar you want to taste for yourself. He looks torn for a moment, building himself up, and places his heavy hands on the bar above you. “Something like that,” he agrees before instructing you on how to position your hands.
You push up and immediately swear at the impossible weight. Raph snickers and you pout and glare simultaneously. “Don’t be mean.”
“You haven’t seen me be mean, baby.”
Oh. Your glare falters. That’s just not fair and he knows it. He’s grinning now and you curse him in your head. You push again and this time the bar lifts, as light as a feather. His hands are still wrapped around it and you’re not lifting a single thing, but the moment feels heavy. He hasn’t let his eyes drift from yours and you don’t dare look away. It feels intense and intimate and you can admit that your skin is on fire and your pulse is throbbing knowing how easily he’s carrying a weight that you couldn’t budge with all your might.
He guides the bar back down after a moment that could have been seconds or minutes or hours and you release a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. He’s still looking at you as you sit up and he invades your personal space. You have to tilt your head back to maintain eye-contact and you shudder as his palm cups your chin.
He’s so tall and imposing and you have to bite your tongue as his hand trails further down. You let him wrap his fingers around your neck and you rest your hand on top of his in encouragement, unable to stop a needy whine as he heeds your silent request and squeezes gently. His pupils are blown and he’s breathing harder than he had been while working out and you feel smug knowing you’ve caused this reaction. In a blink he’s pushed you back and he’s leaning over you. He smells like sweat and his skin is damp from exertion and it's kind of gross and it really shouldn’t be turning you on, but it is and your legs spread involuntarily.
You expect him to close the gap between your lips as he hovers above you and your eyes that had fluttered shut open again when it’s clear he has no intention of moulding your mouths together. He’s got a soft look in his eyes paired with a devilish smile and it makes your chest burn. You don’t expect the next words out of his mouth.
“Be my Valentine?”
You splutter and he laughs as he finally presses his lips to yours.
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lilywastaken · 1 year
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⇝ LOVE LANGUAGES !
CC!DreamWasTaken, CC!Sapnap, CC!GeorgeNotFound, CC!Wilbur Soot x GN!Reader.
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SUMMARY: CCs and their love languages <3.
WARNINGS: SFW! Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and fluff.
A/N: I'm alive!! Very late valentine's post, but classes and homeworks have been crazy :(( anyways, I hope these are good!! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the post, it helps a lot!! Thank you for reading! <333 If you see any mistakes, do not hesitate to let me know, please!!!
MASTERLIST.
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DREAM.
Physical touch — Dream thrives on your touch, whether it be a quick caress to his hand or one of his long required cuddle sessions. He loves the feeling of your skin on his (he's a bit touch starved, a global pandemic and being a faceless YouTuber will do that to you.), and will take any opportunity given to hold your hand when he walks along with you or sneak up behind you to press your body against his.
Due to him not using a cam on his streams, he sometimes asks (more like demands) you to pull up a chair next to him just so he can just feel you next to him, your hands playing absentmindedly with his free one, playing with his rings and slowly making your way onto his lap, where you have a better view of his monitors and an easier way to press kisses onto his freckled cheeks.
Words of affirmation — Much like any other person, Dream enjoys the simple reassurance that his partner appreciates him, a small "I love you." will cause him to shut down immediately. He as well is very vocal when it comes to his love for you, complimenting you on the daily and expressing how much you mean to him even when you've just woken up and you're pretty sure you're comparable to the girl from The Ring, but to him, you're breathtaking whenever and however.
He also likes the small moments you both spend at night in bed just whispering how much you love each other, soft giggles and the wet sounds of kisses resonating around the bedroom.
Dream's very fond of sending you short and sweet messages at random times of the day, even when you're a few inches away from him, he'll start giggling like a schoolgirl as he watches you read over his sappy message.
Quality time — He has a lot of free time on his hands when he's not working on content, and he prefers to spend it with you and his friends, going out to restaurants and just walking around, enjoying the time he can now spend outside without worrying about anyone recognising him.
Dream likes eating out with you a lot, before his face reveal dates consisted of whatever take out was available and some shitty movie Sapnap had chosen before falling asleep on the sofa. But now they consist of some fancy restaurant of his choosing and holding your hand over the table, thumb rubbing over your knuckles and talking about whatever.
Receiving/giving gifts — Dream LOVES spoiling you. I mean, have you seen how he acts with George? He's an unofficial sugar daddy for you both. He sees your eyes linger on some piece of jewellery or an item of clothing he thinks would look amazing on you, expect for it to appear in a little box or a bag on your bed the next day. He also goes all out on Valentine's Day, booking a table for two at a fancy restaurant and gets you a single rose, since he knows it's more meaningful than an extravagant bouquet of flowers (Don't let him fool you, he's given you many bouquets before.), and some small present he knows you'll love.
Like any other person, he likes receiving gifts, and can always count on you to get him something he will love, like a little teddy bear with a Sooners jersey one with his name on the back.
Acts of service — Although he's not very good at it, Dream does enjoy cooking for you at times, and although he does try and make the end product look fancy, you can always tell that it's box Mac and cheese or some fancy ramen he got out of a packet, but it's the thought that counts. He also is very keen on cleaning for you when he's over at your flat, he likes helping on mundane chores like washing and drying the dishes or lifting up furniture so you can reach those pesky corners full of dust.
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SAPNAP.
Physical touch — Sap is very big on physical touch, he enjoys being close to you in any way he can, brushing his hand against the small of your back when he walks past you in the hallway, melting in your arms when you come behind him while he's on his computer and hugging him from behind, he lives for your affection.
He's also very cuddly during your down time together, needing to have you in his arms whenever he's sitting or lying down on the sofa and subconsciously gravitating towards your own body during nighttime, hands grabbing at your waist to pull you into his warmth.
Words of affirmation — I don't see Sapnap really being in touch with his emotions until further into your relationship, so at the beginning, you'd have to be the one to initiate that type of communication with him, but he won't actively confirm his feelings until a few months into your relationship.
Once he's comfortable, he will spend hours at a time just lying in bed with you murmuring about how much he cares for you, loves you, appreciates you being with him.
He's the kind of person to ignore any previous texts you've sent him just to send out an "I love you" text and go back to ignoring you.
He does really enjoy being reassured about your love for him as well, please cup his face in your hands and tell him how much you love him.
Quality time — Sapnap spends a lot of his time playing video games, we know that, so he doesn't really get much one on one time with you that isn't hanging out on a discord call together or having you perched up on his lap doing your own thing while he shouts obscenities at the other players.
So when you two get your time together, he makes the best of it, taking you to ridiculous places you'd never have gone to before, fancy restaurants that would inevitably end up giving you food poisoning, or just lying with you on the sofa watching a movie until George comes in and ruins it.
He honestly doesn't really care what you two do in your spare time, having your hand in his and listening to your ramble on about anything is enough for him, no matter the place or time.
Receiving/giving gifts — Sometimes, just for shits and giggles, Sapnap just buys your entire wishlist and watches your reaction when tons of boxes arrive at your porch, laughing and snickering as you run after him to chastise him for using up so much money on you.
But he doesn't care, he has money for a reason, and he likes the sparkle in your eye whenever he gives you something or he accepts some gift from you, he just enjoys spoiling you AND being spoiled.
Acts of service — When it comes to him, it's the little things. Standing in the corner of the kitchen waiting for you to ask him to cut or peel something, holding the Christmas decoration box while another hand lays on your back making sure you don't fall as you hang baubles on the tree, washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen after you make a meal for the both of you, brining you snacks or a proper meal when you're working… Just small things that show his affection towards you.
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GEORGENOTFOUND.
Physical touch — George is not that big on physical touch, but he won't actively run away from it when presented with a hug or a kiss from you. He's not the type of person to initiate touch out of the blue, he's the type to take it slow and move towards a nice cuddle session while taking it easy.
But when you finally get him to yourself, know that he will be putty in your hands almost immediately, head slotted in your chest and eyes drooping closed, your warm touch and soft kisses and reassurance enough to send this man to sleep.
He's also the type to roll his eyes or groan out in disgust whenever you kiss him in public or in front of his friends, but secretly gets nervous and giddy whenever he sees you lean in to press your lips to his or move your hand to grasp his.
Words of affirmation — George isn't really good at expressing his emotions, but he does show them through other ways like his actions. That doesn't mean he won't ever say "I love you" or tell you how much he appreciates you, it's just very rare for him to actually find the words and way to express them to you.
He finds it easier to communicate those kinds of things through text, so expect a few messages written in such a way that are able to rival those 16th century love letters randomly sent throughout the day.
Quality time — George doesn't spend much time streaming (as we all know) so he's got quite a lot of time on his hands to spend with his friends and you, whether it's just sitting next to you while you work doing his own thing or actively going out on a date or staying inside to play a game together ( he always loses but makes you think that he did on purpose ).
Also please be the one to organise dates, because although George does reservate date nights at nice restaurants or clear his schedule to take you somewhere, he will forget. You'll be in the middle of a cuddle session with him, half watching the movie, half focusing on your boyfriend's pretty face when he suddenly jumps in place, eyes wide as he shouts about a reservation he just remembered. But he tries, at least. He won't always forget your reservations, but there will be a few moments where he does act like a dumbass.
Receiving/giving gifts — This man likes being spoiled, that's a given. See how happy he gets when Dream just takes out his credit card unasked? He's a prince who loves to be spoiled by his partner. So don't hesitate to get him something, even if it's a small thing like a scarf or a piece of jewellery you think would look good on him, he will take it and appreciate it a whole lot, even if it's the most useless thing in the world, he'll love it. It came from you, one of the people he loves the most and will treasure it as if it's the crown jewels themselves.
Acts of service — He's quite lazy sometimes, but that doesn't mean he won't do anything for you. As stated before, he doesn't really show his love through words, so his actions are the way to show his appreciation for you. He does chores for you around the house, the dishes, cleaning up any dirty laundry he can find strewn across the floor, cooking any random shit he can find and trying his best to make it look appetising for you, etc.
But apart from those mundane chores, he also does more little things like Sapnap: helping you with your makeup or hair or clothes, trailing after you while you cook waiting to help, instantly taking over whatever task you're working on whenever you need a break, making sure you're week hydrated and rested when you spend more time than usual in front of a screen.
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WILBUR SOOT.
Physical touch — Wilburs a very touchy person as he's confirmed himself, always finding his hand wrapping around yours or resting on your shoulders, pulling your back to his chest so he can rest his chin on the crown of your head, enjoying how flustered you get whenever he pulls that kind of shit in public or around your friends.
He immediately gravitates towards you whenever you're both in the same place/room, his eyes finding yours and sending you a flashing smile before scurrying towards you just to press himself to your side, hand running over your back and busying himself with drawing on your skin; or if you're facing away from him when he finds you, he'll grab your waist from behind and watch you scream out of shock before hitting his chest, snickering as he pulls you into his arms.
Words of affirmation — Wilbur is a fucking poet when it comes to his love for you, spending hours at a time at his desk writing sickengly sweet verses in his little notebook about you and how fucking in love he is, leaving his notes around the house just so you'll pick them up and read through them, smiling brightly whenever you bring them back to him and ask him about it. He's very open with his love, whispering soft "I love you"s into your ear at random times of the day, strumming idly in his guitar and trying to find some type of melody that fits in with all the beautiful words he's written about you. Also expect lots of compliments through text as well, a "you look breathtaking today" sent when he's across the room from you, a goofy smile on his face as he watches you read it.
Quality time — It's the little things for Wil, like the feeling of lifting you in his arms and peppering kisses across your face the moment after a concert ends, adrenaline rushing through his veins making him more brave than usual; taking you out to bars and pubs with your friends just so you both can curl into one of the leather sofas and sip your drinks together; sitting on your bed while you scroll through your laptop as he strums on his guitar, singing softly to you or asking for your opinion on whatever riff he just came up with.
You don't really get much one-on-one dates. Let me explain. Wilbur tries his best to get a nice restaurant reservation, and when he finally gets a table, he's waiting for you to show up with a bright smile and a positive outlook on the evening, only for you to end up arriving with Tommy or James somehow tagging along with Wilbur when he leaves the office. Doesn't mean you don't have a nice time, though.
Receiving/giving gifts — Wilburs not a big gift giver, so he doesn't really mind if you don't either, but he will appreciate it massively if you do. Get him a new guitar and his old one will be out of the window (not actually, he'd probably give it to Tommy or just mount it on the wall), or some new sweaters that look amazing on him and he'll just burn every other item of clothing he owns. He isn't one to never buy stuff for his s/o, though, you see something you like and don't think you have enough for it? He's waving his card in front of your face. Tommy comments on something he heard you say you wanted? It's showing up a few days later. Also does his best to go all out on holidays/birthdays.
Acts of service — Wil enjoys showering with you a lot. Like just rubbing in the shampoo into your hair and playing with your locks, then leaning down so you can do the same to him? Peak acts of service for him. Also making tea for you (or coffee, but his specialty is tea) and bringing it to you on a cold night, cooking some recipe he saw online and making sure it's perfectly done so you're able to stomach it, and just doing chores around the house while you work or are busy.
Also will melt if you do small things like change his guitar strings or clean his desk while you're at his office.
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frostironfudge · 1 year
Text
Baby, Keep Those Off - Bucky Barnes
Summary: based on this request by @angieptt 'I was wondering how would Bucky react to listen to you mention about you being insecure walking around the house without pants on even though you love it but hate your body at the same time, and last time you mentioned something your last partner said "to me you are okay" , the last word breaking you and confirming in your head you are disgusting and not desirable even "when they love you".'
Word Count: 1.5k
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, you are responsible for your media consumption. fluff, angst, reader is insecure as stated in the summary, bucky comforts reader, insecurity over body mentioned, mild smut, allusions to implied future smut, also it's their first valentines together, they got together a year ago just after valentines day (basically last week of feb 2022 for reference incase their timeline is confusing), oral f receiving mildly described, bucky is a starving man, also bucky on his knees a delicious sight.
A.N. 1: thank you so much for sending in this request! i hope you enjoy what i came up with!❤️ i didn't go into a lot of detail into the insecurity because this is something i struggle with too and i didn't want it to get too much for me, i'm glad you sent this in though because mr. barnes knows how to take care of his girl 💖
Main Masterlist || AO3
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Dust specks dance in the bright sunlight peeking through the blinds. The bed is warm yet cold. The sheets carry only your body lotion’s scent. The soft sheets nor do the blankets envelop you as you crave this morning. 
You miss the warm arms sleepily pulling you closer, lips slightly chapped that brush against your shoulder and neck. The stubble that draws laughter with your first breath when he nuzzles into you. The sleep laden smile that is whispered against your forehead. Cedar and amber surrounding you, grounding you. 
Unfortunately away on a mission leaving you pulling the pillows closer, burying your head into the piece of clothing that isn’t holding your favourite scent. Sighing against the pillowcase. 
The alarm clock has you know the date, it stares at you mockingly. Lifting up your phone does uplift your mood. A plethora of messages from the man who graces your lockscreen wearing the cat ears from the winter funfair you went to on a date for new years eve. 
You remember the laughter bubbling from your chest and Bucky’s scowl turning into a grin, the way he pulled you close, as snowflakes fell on your shoulders and hair as he kissed you senseless before stealing your phone from your back pocket and squishing his cheek to yours to take a picture. It had been your matching lockscreen ever since that night.
Bucky: Happy Valentine’s Day, my doll, I’m on the quinjet and you have me for the whole day, not sticking around for debriefing (don’t let the team know) 
Bucky: i know you’re sleeping, can’t wait to come back into bed with you just wanna hold you close and maybe let my hands wander 
Bucky: definitely let my hands wander. 
Bucky: I miss you doll. Counting down the hours to celebrate our first valentine's day. 
You laugh, sending him messages right back. 
You: Happy Valentine's Day, Bucky. Counting down the minutes till you get home. Can’t wait to feel your hands wander, maybe I could wear the gift I got.
You: I even brought a backup in case you rip the first one.
You: Yes there are two. Lacy and very pretty.
You know he has no option while on the quinjet, but teasing Bucky had its perks that led to a delicious ache between your thighs. Skin warming you roll out of bed, Bucky’s oversized shirt caresses your thighs and you chuckle as you spot the typing dots appear. 
He was letting your house sit since Alpine needed someone to be there. You smile thinking about how you met him just in the last week of february last year and now he’s yours to love and cherish.
When you exit the bedroom, flower petals trail from the door to the living room. You pause. Your phone chimes.
Bucky: Well, your early gift should be ready despite being a little tease. Go on see it.
Giddy with excitement the walk to the living room is even shorter as you round into the room a gasp leaves you. Bucky stands there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. Breakfast arranged on the table. When you look back from the table to Bucky his eyes are on your legs.
Oh shit, shit, shit. 
He was not supposed to see this apart from when you two were getting intimate.
Bucky traces his eyes over your limbs, his shirt being very lucky this morning. Well luckier than him. His lips part to declare his admiration before you scurry back. He frowns.
“Doll?” His feet carry him in strides to you.
“I’m, I’m putting on pants, I thought–, I know it isn’t that good of a thing to see…” 
He catches the door in time before you shut it, “What do you mean? This is honestly,” He just stares at your bare legs again, licking his lips, “Doll, fuck, is this how you roam around when I’m not home?”
“I, um,” Your fingers gripping the sweatpants halfway up your legs and you look everywhere but at him, twisting your fingers you try to find the words, “I don’t like how pants feel… for the most part… sometimes I don’t like how…” you pause, the day would be ruined.
“So you mean to tell me, I could have had this glorious, gorgeous, and fucking beautiful sight greet me everytime I’m home?” He pushes the door open wider. 
Your cheeks heat, “B-Bucky you don’t have to say that, I know it’s just okay.” 
His brows furrow at your voice growing quieter.
Bucky walks over to you cradling your face, “Doll?” your eyes meet his, he’s smiling. Softness and tenderness wrap around your heart at his loving gaze, “Doll, you look absolutely beautiful and I don’t need you wrapped up in lingerie to appreciate the beautiful woman I have and call my girl.”
You smile at his words, “But sometimes I don’t think I look good like this.” your admission is met by his lips brushing over your forehead.
“Doll, some days with our bodies are hard, but you know how you remind me to love my body and be kind towards it? Thank it for getting me through so much?” He rewards you with another forehead kiss when you nod.
“I’m right here to remind you to be kind and loving towards your body. Maybe even give a physical demonstration to allow me to thank your gorgeous body.” He laughs when you swat his chest lightly.
“It will be a long road or a short one, it's different for everyone. I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.” He promises.
The crack in your confidence fills in the slightest, he was right it would be a while before you’d be fully confident, “Thank you for saying that, Bucky.”
“I hope you know I’m not just saying that, I believe it, and we’ll work on it so that you won’t have to depend on me to make you feel confident, you will be confident from within.” He assures, you kiss his cheek.
“But I want you there to be jaw dropped each time I’m without pants roaming around our place.” You let the hope for a future with him slip. 
“Trust me Doll, all my blood went to my dick when I saw you. I had this whole cute speech planned and it all flew out the window. I was tongue tied. I still am but thats only till I look at those fucking gorgeous legs again, want them wrapped around my head.”
You bite your bottom lip, “Really?” 
“Baby, keep those off. That is my gift for this year and the next several years.” He smiles as he affirms his own want for a future with you, “And if anyone made you believe otherwise then I’m going to change your belief today. Also then track down and beat the shit out of them for making my girl feel underappreciated and made doubt her beauty.” 
Bucky moves his hands from your face, grabbing your hips, in a fluid motion you’re propped up against the door, legs wrapped around him and you can feel his hardness. Your sweatpants are a forgotten article and thought.
“No panties too? Fuck Doll.” He groans, the fabric rubs deliciously over your folds. Your whine goes right to his cock, “You aren’t wearing pants or panties at home anymore.” He groans, lips latching onto the exposed skin of your chest, his flesh hand rubbing the flesh of your thighs.
“Bucky–,” you moan as he nips at your skin, your legs tightening around his waist. He undoes all the buttons of the shirt.
“Can’t waste a drop, Doll.” Your legs are placed down, Bucky kneels, eyes darkened he stares at you like a man starved.
Your right leg over his shoulder your fingers move to his hair as he stares at your dripping cunt. The sight of him turning feral only sends thrums of arousal through you, your need for him increasing. 
“I’m going to show you exactly why the sight of you just in a shirt is fucking magnificent.” He kisses your inner thigh, licking his way to your folds. He kisses your aching clit then hums in delight. 
You ask for more of him needily.
He pulls away, looking back up at you with those darkened eyes and glistening lips and chin.
“You don’t mind that I’m skipping breakfast for my dessert right?” He smirks when you glare at him.
“James,” Your angered tone turns breathless as his mouth returns to devour you.
He moans against your folds, palms digging into your flesh. Oh you weren’t leaving the apartment as he had planned, he’d stay right here and worship you, hear you only remember his name.
-x-x-
A.N. 2: he's a menace. bucky is a menace. also happy valentines day to all you lovelies!!
bucky permanent tags: @slutforsexyseabass
permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke
959 notes · View notes
paranormalactivity5 · 5 months
Text
✮If you film me while I suck it you can be a superstar!✮
Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Famous!Fem!reader
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*This takes place in 1990 simply because cameras were smaller*
A/N: ok second ficc!!! I kinda don't like this tho but it got me out of writers' block soooooo. Also, love the writers' block after one fic. I welcome feedback and constructive criticism!
WARNINGS: P in V, oral sex (f receiving), one thigh slap, chocking, lmk if anything else but I don't think so
word count: 1.2k
You were sitting there staring at yourself in the mirror occasionally taking a nervous peek at the not yet recording camera set on the table next to you, waiting for Eddie to get home. It was Valentine's Day and you finally had the day off but just your luck, Eddie had press all day for Corroded Coffins' new album, you really couldn't be more proud of your boy but…really? Today? You had loved Valentine's Day even before getting into a relationship, just seeing people be happy and in love was nice, and now you were one of them but of course, Eddie's manager Brenda had to take that away, however, you still had some tricks up your sleeve.
Eddie had bought up the idea of possibly recording yourselves having sex, which you were apprehensive about considering your status but you were very intrigued by the idea…..you didn't tell him that though. You wanted to wait for the right moment to bring it back up and this was it. You were dressed up in a light tan sheer little two piece that was littered with little red hearts, it fit you fucking perfectly. He was going to lose his mind.
The second you heard his car pull up in the driveway you threw on your regular fluffy black robe with little comic skulls on it and put the chicken pot pie you had prepared earlier in the oven, you only put it in now because you knew you would be occupied for awhile. You greeted him at the door saying your hellos, and a quick peck on the lips “mmmhp is that chicken pot pie?” he asked smiling “yup, just put it in the oven”. He tells you about his day and all the interviews he did but all you can think about is how hot he looks in those black jeans, that black tee shirt, and leather jacket. He turns around to hang his jacket up and you quickly drop your robe, exposing yourself. He turns back to face you and you swear you can see his Brian short circuit, he does that every time he sees you like this but just as he also does every time he rapidly gatherers himself and a smirk appears on his face. “Well damn baby…” he always speaks so smoothly “I mean I knew you would probably do something but shit, I wasn't expecting this” You can already see him beginning to harden in his jeans which in turn makes heat pool in your stomach.
He walks over and pulls you into him, kissing passionately, only ever pulling apart for air. “Jump” the command from him is so simple but it makes you oh so excited. You do as he says wrapping your legs around his waist and his hands grip your ass, he always holds you so effortlessly, he really is one of those guys that is so much stronger than they look. He begins to walk into your bedroom, never breaking the kiss. Once he gently sets you down on the bed he pulls up to remove his shirt he leans down again but you put your hand on his chest to stop him. He looks confused when you walk over to the dresser, until you hand him the camera.
He looks like he could blow his load right then and there. “...Are you sure?” he asks “Yes.” you say breathless and quickly reattach your mouth to his. He lays you down and turns the camera on but confuses you when he hands you the camera. He lowers himself and starts laying kisses down your stomach and on your hip bones, your breath starts to quicken and you can feel your clit throbbing with need. He continues down, now sucking hickeys into your inner thighs. After what feels like forever he ghosts’ his lips over right where you need him, you can feel his long hair tickling your thighs. He looks au at you with nothing but want in his eyes “Record this baby. Record me making you cum on my tongue”.
He peels your sheer panties off you, the string of your wetness to your underwear could be considered pornographic. The feeling of the cold room was quickly replaced by his warm mouth. You let out a loud moan. the second his mouth is on you he goes to work. Licking around and sucking your on your clit. You use your hand to rub your tit through your bra but he quickly stops his 
actions and slaps you on your thigh causing you to let out a whine. “Keep the camera on me. Or I stop.” he says sternly but you know its killing him not to have his mouth on you right now. You place the camera back on him and he dives back in. You can feel the tension building in your abdomen. For the first time, you look down and you can see him grinding himself into the edge of the bed, and feel him groaning into you; the vibrations are what send you over the edge.
He continued his work on your pussy letting you ride out your orgasm. As soon as you come down from your high his mouth is on yours and he tugs his pants off and puts the camera on the side table where it can get the perfect view. He looks at you for permission, you breathlessly reply “Yes” looking up at him with so much want you can barely see straight. He lines himself up with your entrance. As he pushes in you both let out moans of relief. He quickly begins to build up his pace, You're both moaning so loud  “fuck. Fuck yes. Take it” he groans. he’s pounding into you so good it’s mind numbing.
He pulls the cups of your bra down “Lemme see those perfect tits babe” and begins palming your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Oh my god Eddie” you moan out shakeily. He slides his hand up your body and around your throat just barely putting enough pressure on your pulse point to make your head spin. For the second time tonight, you feel the pressure build and you can tell he’s feeling the same from the way his thrusts are becoming more sloppy and his glorious abdominal muscles are tightening.
“Cum in me, please, Eddie cum in me” you beg him. He leans down to kiss you and his pelvis rubs against you triggering your orgasm, the feeling of you clenching around him triggers his own. You both ride out your highs moaning into each other's mouths. You now lay next to each other with him still inside you feeling the after shocks of your orgasms. “Oh my god….when was the last time I told you how much I love you?” he asks while chuckling sarcastically and you lightly slap him on the chest. Just in time for a nice dinner, after which you will probably show him some gratitude on your knees. 
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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months
Text
The Other Side Of Paradise.
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Makima x F Reader.
Synopsis: Makima has grown on you like a parasite, minus the grossness. You think you have grown on her too.
Warnings: Slightly unhealthy relationships because, uh, you know, Makima.
Word Count: 1.5k.
Ten Songs Like This Piece:
Lilith by Ellise
she calls me daddy by KiNG MALA
Strawberry Blond by Mitski
Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo
Maneater by Nelly Furtado
Everybody Loves Me by OneRepublic
How I’d Kill by Cowboy Malfoy
Kiss Of Fire by Georgia Gibbs
Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde
Rule #4 - Fish in a Birdcage by Fish in a Birdcage
You don’t think she is the same as when you first met her.
You don’t think she is the same as when you first met her, because her body always faces you regardless of the situation. Whenever she visits you at your apartment, sitting on your couch while watching television, she is more often than not closer to you than she would perhaps admit. Her arms and legs are usually uncrossed too, though anyone could argue that she never does with anyone; co-worker or friend. 
You fidget when she gets lunch with you or some other activity that is supposed to be calming towards those involved. It’s embarrassing whenever you think back on it; thinking about how you shifted in your seat a bit too much that you fell over onto the grass, the shame burning into your memory whenever you try to go to sleep. 
You know you aren’t the same as when you first met her.
But has she? You hope so because you plan to confess to her today. It’s Valentine’s Day after all, and you think that there couldn’t be a better time to do so. The only thing you hate about Makima now is how difficult she is to read, especially in the workplace. It’s an improvement, you think, because you used to think much less of her. You most likely will never be able to tell if Makima found your once hateful feelings towards her amusing, pathetic, or didn’t even realize it at all. 
Maybe it is a good thing though, because ignorance is bliss.
This both fuels and puts out the flames of your fears of rejection, like water mixed with gasoline.
The sound of Makima’s phone ringing only gets louder with every step you take towards her office. “Tsk. Troublesome.”
You take note of her slightly frustrated expression as she puts her phone on silent and places it face-down on her desk. “Um, hi Miss Makima.”
“Hello, Miss [Last].” You used to say her name with such passive aggression, envious that you will never be a director of public safety yourself and can only be an assistant to one. She, however, says your last name as she always has; with a calm and neutral tone. “Happy Valentine’s Day. You look nice.”
“T-Thank you.”
Her eyes smile more than her lips do. “I mean it.”
“Really?”
Every time Makima nods her head with a for once readable expression, you could swear that your pulse rate shoots up. 
The proof is in how blood rushes to your cheeks, making you blush and turn away.
“Really. You are beautiful, Miss [First].”
You feel lightheaded, the amount of sanguine fluid moving to your head being heavy enough to almost make you fall forward and fall straight onto your face. “T-Thanks. You too.”
As you turn away from her and look at the gift piles next to Makima’s desk, so does she. There are at least ten bouquets and at least twenty small other presents. A large teddy bear too, is hidden beneath it all with only its face showing fully. Makima has never been short of admirers, another reason why you used to always be so jealous of her.
“Since it’s Valentine’s Day,” you mutter. “I just wanted to give you this.”
In your right hand is a gift bag with a few huskies on it. 
Makima had mentioned that that was her favorite kind of dog to you before, and you archived the memory for later reference.
She leans forward and her fingers wrap around the string handle, pulling it towards her gently. “Oh, thank you. I have something for you too.”
You don’t know how it is possible, but you can sense your cheeks getting even redder. Even though you aren’t looking at her, you can sense her amusement based on her humming alone. Inside the bag is a box of dark chocolate truffles of a brand you both like as well as a framed photo of you two together. It probably isn’t the most original gift she has gotten today though, and that makes your stomach aches worsen from the anxiety.
“You didn’t have to give me anything, Miss Makima.” You smile only faintly. 
“Then why did you give me something?” She asks, her tone slightly teasing, and you want to scream into your pillow tonight as compensation for your awkwardness. As a response to her question, you start stuttering out excuses one word at a time before restarting, over and over again.
I just thought you’d like these, you wanted to say, but emotion is taking over your ability to speak.
She waltzes over to her desk like a slow dancer, her movements much more elegant than yours ever could, would, and will be.
As if your heart was a drum, it beats in an irregular rhythm. 
Bum bum, thump thump, dun dun.
She crouches down, curling her knees and putting a hand on her chin as her other hand opens the cabinet beside her desk. She takes three books out in total. Crime and Punishment. The Metamorphosis. I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream. All of these books you have mentioned to her before on one occasion or another, that now is leaving you genuinely touched by her present actions.
She leaves you feeling warm, a feeling you don’t think you have felt for anyone else.
“If I remember correctly, these were some of the books you have mentioned wanting to read in person, correct?” At the sight of your head bobbing up and down with pure and unfiltered delight with a mmhmm leaving your throat, she in turn finally allows her lips to move upward. No longer is the smile she wears cordial–instead it is bright like fireflies in summer, her eyes being the very sun itself.
It is a sight you will never forget, its beauty is too mesmerizing to be left out of your core memories. “I can’t believe you remembered that I wanted those.”
There is a chuckle that leaves her mouth that threatens to sweep you off your feet. 
Her fingers graze against yours as she hands you the novels. They are softer than yours, cleaner. 
“Well, believe it then.”
“I-I will.”
“Good,” She says, the praise only makes your face that much more hot. It feels like you are in a dream sweeter than cotton candy and just as soft as it. If this is a figment of your imagination, you would much rather stay in it for the rest of your life. “You’re quite adorable, blushing like that.”
She receives a gaze from you that can only be defined as being captivated by her stardom. “I-I gotta ask you something if you don’t mind.”
Her grin widens with each stumble of your speech.
“Go ahead.”
“Are you doing something after work tonight?”
For a brief moment, she rests her chin in her hand and lets out a thoughtful hum. Her gaze shifts towards the ceiling as she ponders whether any post-work plans are awaiting her today. After what feels like an eternity, she shakes her head. “I am not, why?”
“Oh, well…” You pause for a second, looking down to try to somewhat cover your embarrassment. When you finally work up the courage to speak again, you sound hopeful. “You know how it’s Valentine’s Day today?”
She nods in turn, acknowledging the obvious. “It is indeed.”
“Uh, I was wondering…” You pause again and try to focus on your shoes instead of your stuttering words. “Would you want to, you know, go out or something?” As you both lock eyes in silence, a surge of determination prompts you to expand your inquiry while assuming a more upright stance. “If you’re not doing anything, of course.”
Once more, her lips curl into a smile and she affirms with a subtle nod. “Sure. But Miss [Last], is this a romantic date?”
Your face flushes, betraying your hidden desire for this outing to be more than just a casual hangout. Despite your efforts to conceal it, deep down, you know she can sense your longing for it to be a date instead. 
“Er, yes,” you finally say, the ends of your shoes rubbing against one another as you fiddle with your fingers. You hate how awkward you can be, especially with Makima. “I was hoping it could be… a romantic date.”
Once more, her laughter echoes as you stumble over your words, and you brace yourself for the impending disaster. Anticipating her rejection, you find solace in the darkness behind closed eyelids, fully aware that this could lead to your demotion.
“Then it shall be. I’ll pick you up.”
You don’t process her words at first. You are still preparing for the carpet to be pulled from underneath your feet and for you to be ridiculed. But that never comes, because after a few more seconds of silence, you open your eyes to see that Makima’s cheeks are light pink, barely noticeable.
“R-Really?”
“I mean it.” 
You know that she does, and that makes your heart flutter like a bird.
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