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daycourtofficial · 12 days

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Now I’m in exile seeing you out

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 4k | warnings: none

Summary: a follow up to you’re losing me - You've reached your tipping point where you can't forgive Azriel's constant choice of work over you. Can he fix things? Or did things get wildly out of hand and it's too late?

Author’s note: you guys loved part one, hopefully this offers a satisfying conclusion 🥰

2k celebration masterlist

Your new apartment was quiet, not even your neighbors were making noise. You had grown accustomed to the silence the past few months - Azriel always being gone had left the house a certain way - too large, too quiet, too much without him. This silence felt different.

It wasn’t full of expectation - of wanting Azriel to come through the door or expecting him to treat you like he did in the before.

Now you’re in the after, your finger feeling light from the lack of the ring on it. Fae don’t usually wear rings - a human custom that Feyre had told you all about, one that Azriel found quite romantic.

“So that way when we are buried and our scents are gone, if anyone found our bodies, they would know what we were.”

His words were romantic, but now the tan line on your finger just made you feel hollow, as if this wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Any sound you made just echoed through the too empty space - you had foolishly gotten rid of most of your previous furniture when you and Azriel bought a house - your new furniture not arriving for a few more days. Feyre had found you this apartment rather quickly when you showed up at the River House in the middle of the night, uncertain of where else to go. She and Rhysand had agreed to let you stay there until you found a place of your own and they also agreed to not tell Azriel where you were.

“We could start fresh,” you had said to him, mainly wanting a good enough reason to throw out the couch you’ve had for half a century. But now all the new furniture was left behind, in a house too big for one occupant, probably laughing at your past words.

A knock at the door interrupts your thoughts, and you look through the peephole to find Feyre standing outside with a large plant of some sort. You unlock the door, letting her in. She gives you a soft smile and hugs you, the absurdly large plant making it somewhat difficult to get your arms around her.

She chirps a greeting to you, rubbing your back gently as you pull back from her. She knew why you had done it - you spent several nights over the past year on her couch crying to her over Azriel and his lack of time for you.

Behind her came Rhys, carrying several buckets of paint, rollers, tins, tarps. Your eyebrows raised, “is this your new art studio, Feyre? Are you going to teach Rhys how to paint?”

She giggles and Rhys rolls his eyes at you, setting the things in his arms down before kissing you on the top of your head. You lean into his touch before he pulls away, softly telling you, “we’re helping you paint the place - white walls are boring.”

In the days to come over the next week, you had multiple visitors. They all made you feel better while they were here, but whenever they left you felt that Azriel shaped hole in your heart all over again. Cassian had been the first after Feyre to visit, barreling into your apartment, nearly squeezing the life out of you once he got in the door, upset he had to wait so long to see you.

“Cass, it’s been four days.”

“The house’s not the same without you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Cassian gave you a look that you didn’t like, and the two of you were teetering on the edge of the forbidden. You had asked Feyre to tell everyone they can come visit, but not to talk about Azriel in any way.

Unfortunately, much of Cassian’s life involves Azriel so he had a much harder time than everyone else. Any time he’d veer into Azriel territory, he’d quickly go, “oops” and cover his mouth very quickly, as if he had cursed in front of a child.

Elain had visited the next day, offering to help you prepare some potted window plants. The two of you walked through the Velaris markets, Elain prattling on about different kinds of plants. You knew she was trying to distract you, help you pick up the pieces of your broken life. So you picked out different plants for your windowsill, the weight of them in your arms much lighter than the weight of your emotions.

It was hard wandering the streets with Elain - this city felt so much like him, the streets littered with cafes the two of you frequented. Elain, whose presence you enjoyed greatly, felt like a stabbing reminder of what you lost.

You know Elain came in with you when you got back to your apartment, repotting the plants into the window planter she brought. Fresh dirt covered their roots, allowing them to grow in their new place. You can’t remember what Elain spoke about, just nodding along with her until you eventually found yourself alone again.

Each day brought a new member of Azriel’s family to visit, and you loved them, truly loved them, but it was hard to feel like they were coming for you as opposed to coming on behalf of him. You knew they loved you, despite whatever was happening between you and Azriel, but your interactions were always colored with him in the background.

You had been expecting Nesta to show up when you opened the door to find Azriel looking back at you.

You were a bit surprised at the restraint he maintained waiting so long, a whole week passing since you had left, but you said all you wanted to say in that note. You wanted him to feel awful, to finally see how you were feeling.

You just hated that it came to this to get him to see you.

He looked terrible. His shadows were pooled at his feet, darting towards you with affection, dancing around you. His wings were practically dragging on the floor, his shoulders sagged, his hair was a mess. His eyes looked lifeless, his jaw covered in stubble.

Good.

“Azriel,” you bit out, not an ounce of affection in your tone. “May I help you?”

“I want you to come home.” His words were clipped, agitation clear in his voice.

“This is my home, you may come in for a few minutes if you want to talk.”

You didn’t really want to invite him in, wanting him to stand outside your door, feeling as unwanted as you had for so many months. But you had new neighbors, and you weren’t sure you wanted to find out how nosy they were with this conversation.

The sight of him made you so angry, but a tiny part of you wanted to reach out to him, running your fingers through his hair, and coax him to come to bed so the two of you could actually sleep.

He shut the door behind him before turning back to you.

“Please, come back. I’ll be better.”

Your hands nestle onto your hips, your jaw rotating in annoyance. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He sighs, his feet moving of their own accord across your floor, pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor.

“Was I not enough for you?”

His words send you into a tailspin of rage, your vision going red. “Azriel,” you say, voice rising, “that’s a funny thing to ask, when you were never there! I gave you everything. Endless excuses, endless empathy. I spent so much time telling people that what you were doing was okay, that I forgot it wasn’t! You weren’t there!”

His hands run down his face, shaking his head in denial. His shadows swirled the room, and you could hear them whispering to him, but what they were saying you couldn’t make out.

“You’re the one who decided that everything I had wasn’t enough for you.”

Your words hit their mark, and the Illyrian before you halts and removes his hands from his face, looking nothing like the formidable soldier he was, but rather the boy he had been. You take a deep breath, opening your door once more behind him.

“I needed you to risk something, I needed you to choose me.”

You stop forward, pushing him through the threshold.

“Most of all, I needed you to choose yourself, too.”

You shut the door on him, leaning your forehead against the wood. The place was suffocating you with its silence. It was a new silence, compared to the one you’d wait in while Azriel was off.

This one felt full of hope and possibilities.

Three decades passed since that fateful night, but you could still see Azriel’s eyes in the shadows some nights. You hated burning candles - the way the shadows flickered and danced reminded you of the shadows that curled your fingers, the ones that kept you company whenever Azriel spent too long away.

You had dated here and there since Azriel - none of them lasting more than a few years. They were fine - all attractive, all nice, but they all ended for one reason or another. One moved to a different court, which you didn’t want to do. Another’s mother didn’t like you and it just didn’t work out after that. Several relationships fizzled out because there just wasn’t a spark between you two. You felt cursed, unlucky in love, destined to be alone.

Or perhaps destined to always be heartbroken.

It wasn’t all bad - you just weren’t lucky with romance. You had fallen back in love with Velaris a few years after leaving Azriel, the city lights coaxing you back. You had actually considered leaving entirely, the city feeling too much of him.

Until one day, about five years after you left, you had walked the Sidra one night, the reflections of the street lights giving the city and the river a new glow.

It enchanted you, waking you up from the stupor you had been in for so long.

After that, you spent a lot of your time around Velaris - running events for the city, making friends with several of the business owners. It felt good to find a new support system in the city - one not connected to your ex boyfriend.

You clutch your coat tighter around yourself as you weave through the streets of Velaris, heading back to your apartment. You walk by some apartments, a few men standing around outside, their boisterous laughs making you feel uneasy. One of them starts calling for you, but you ignore his words and walk faster.

You heard footsteps behind you, and you turned a corner hoping he’d stop following you.

“Leave her alone.”

You knew that voice - the deep timbre one you heard in occasional dreams, calling to you even after all these years. You stop your fast walking, turning just in time to make eye contact with those hazel eyes you’ve been dreaming of forever. You can’t run - he’s already stopped still at the sight of you, as if time was stopping for this unexpected reunion.

He stands behind the guy who was following you, his face peering over the male’s shoulder at you.

“She your bitch?”

Azriel’s growl shocks you, and the male turns, allowing his siphons to glow bright in the night. The male stops his chuckling, replaced with deep apologies, running off in the other direction as Azriel moves closer to you, and the two of you start walking in the direction towards your apartment.

The streets are quiet as Azriel follows your lead, his boots scuffing the cobblestone street. It felt strange to be next to him again, the wind rippling against the skin of his wings a sound you never thought you’d hear again.

He clears his throat, “sorry about them.” He gestures behind himself before adding, “I saw them yelling at some female and just wanted to keep anything from happening.”

You look up at him, drinking in his appearance. Thirty years had passed since he came to your apartment that day - since you yelled and screamed at him. You had wanted to yell more that day, but you were so drained from how things ended, you just wanted to move on. He looked much the same - his jawline sharp, his large nose littered with the freckles you loved so much. They were more prominent now, likely a result of the summer sun. His hair was a little lighter, cut a little shorter than you remembered it, the curls lightly dusting the top of his forehead.

You had hardly spoken to much of his family recently, your new job and not living in one of their properties making it quite difficult to schedule dinners and lunches. The last time you saw any of them was either when Elain visited you about six years ago or when you saw Cassian in a coffee shop, a tiny babe in his arms some odd years ago.

You had caught glimpses of the inner circle over the years - a wave to Feyre across a restaurant, the sight of Rhys’s smirk through a window, the bookshop clerk down the street mentioning Nesta. Glimpses of their lives, but you never allowed yourself to stop for too long to get caught back into their orbit.

You had once been so integrated into the family, but it was hard to continue when you pulled away from Azriel. They loved you, you knew that, but they were his family and it never felt quite right without him, every one of your conversations with them overshadowed by the lack of Azriel. So, you had pulled back. It’s not what they wanted, it’s not what you wanted, but it was what you needed.

So many things were the same, but he somehow looked lighter, as if the weight of the world weren’t on his shoulders anymore. It made him look so free and so beautiful.

Maybe he found someone who could finally help against his demons.

“It’s quite alright - I actually should thank you for that and for walking me home. I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking home alone after that.”

You two continue on in silence, the only sound your shoes against the cobblestones and the fae moving about on the streets, heading off for their nights to start as yours ended on this strange note. The silence was lingering for too long, old emotions stirring beneath the surface. You had to break the tension.

“Is Cassian a dad now?”

Azriel’s eyes widened before throwing his head back laughing. You had almost forgotten just how beautiful that sound was. Almost. “Fuck no.”

His chuckles bounce off the streets of Velaris as he mutters, “but he and Nesta still fuck like they’re desperate for one.”

“But I swear I saw him out with a kid with wings a few years ago.”

Azriel stops to think for a moment before squinting his eyes a bit, “do you remember the issues we had with wing clipping?” You nod, remembering how just the details of some of the things Azriel’s seen at the hands of his people made you queasy. “We helped a few of the women escape the camps - we’ve been trying to make safe spaces for them to live in to prove to the males that they don’t need them. It’s slow, but we’ve got a few dozen living in and around Velaris.”

Wow, you thought. Your smile is genuine as you congratulate him, “that’s impressive, Az!” He shakes his head at your celebratory tone. “Really, I know progress is slow with them, but that’s great.” You beam up at him before scratching the back of your head, “but it still doesn’t explain the kid I saw.”

“A few of the females brought their kids with them, and Cassian likes to spend time with each of them one-on-one. He says it’s a good excuse to get ice cream, but I think he just likes seeing them have a present male in their lives.”

You two continue winding through the streets, a cool breeze lifting through your hair. It was so odd to be here with him, odder still for this to feel normal. Azriel clears his throat, his voice a bit uncertain, “I’ve been uh delegating more.”

You pause, feet stopping on the road. They’re just words, nothing more, but Azriel’s never delegated. A true perfectionist to his core, he never even considered delegating any task Rhys asks of him. You turn to look at him, his hazel eyes looking back to you full of regret and longing.

“I’ve been uh, using some of the spies under me more. I’ve been trusting them with more important work.”

The two of you reached your apartment door, the same one Feyre had painted silver all those years ago. You can hear his shaky breath as he continued. “I don’t deserve you. I never have. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I don’t-“ he sighs. “I don’t deserve you, but I do deserve love.”

His voice breaks at that and some piece of you shatters all over again at how poorly he was treated to never feel like he deserved anything good or kind.

“This is coming out all wrong,” he huffs, tugging lightly at some of his hair, “but Madja’s been helping me for a long time. I- it’s so hard to let me be deserving of love. I always felt I had to earn it. I felt I had to do the impossible things asked of me and that would finally make me worthy.”

He sighs, a slight thump from the door as he leans his forehead against it.

“I am worthy of being loved. And so are you.”

His hands are shaking, but his shadows wrapped around them, forming something similar to tight fitting gloves, offering some kind of security to him to continue.

“If the damage is too much, I understand. You can tell me to fuck off at any point. But if… if you would let me, I’d like to.. I’d like to show you that I’m trying. That I’ve been working on myself.”

You continue to look up at him, gobsmacked at this confessional from him.

“It’s hard. I couldn’t make progress overnight, hence my long absence. But I have made progress. I’ve uh actually been taking days off. I started going on trips to Day and Summer a few years back. I read three books at the beach a few months ago, actually.”

He laughs at the absurdity of his trip - a vacation. Something he’s never done. To spend days on his own, nothing but a book to keep him company is all you’ve ever wanted from him.

A pause. A breath. But he keeps going, needing to get his jumbled thoughts out of his head and into yours.

“It’s been a long time, but I think about you every day. I’ve probably made a fool of myself out here, but if there is any way you aren’t seeing anyone and if any part of you misses me at all…” He trails off, his fist lightly hitting the door. “I just wanted you to know that I’m trying. I’m bettering myself. I am better. I know it’s late, but..”

He trails off, unsure of how to finish his sentence. Your silence was eerie, leading him to keep talking, his words unable to stop.

“I just- I never wanted things to get here. I was foolish, and I didn’t appreciate you. It took you leaving to realize I could not continue like I was… I can’t.. Let myself hurt the people I care about anymore.”

You stay rooted, pressed against the door, not moving.

They were just words, the same things that hurt you over the years of broken promises and missed dates. But they’re so thought out. He’s had thirty years to mull things over, and he feels so much lighter than before.

You’re conflicted, but the optimist in you wins out as your voice finally finds you.

“Show me.”

Every Sunday for several weeks at 8 AM Azriel would stand on your doorstep and knock gently. You would open the door and he would present you with a bouquet of flowers - varieties of colors and species made their home on your dining room table as the weeks go by.

The two of you stroll through the city. The city you loved so dearly and for so long, parts of it feeling impossible to look at without thinking of the male next to you.

He would usually open up with some story about Cassian or Rhysand to break the ice. Then he’d tell you about his week - where Rhysand had sent him off, what he did on his days off that weren’t Sunday, anything that stood out. The two of you wander the streets, only stopping for occasional treats to eat while continuing your walk.

As the weeks go by, he starts filling you in on the past thirty years. For a long time, he saw Madja almost daily. She began providing him with herbs that helped regulate his moods, helped him sleep better, and helped him feel better. She also began having him comb through the deepest parts of himself he tried to forget, the memories of that little boy abandoned in that dungeon. He’d also tell you about how the rest of the Inner Circle was doing - Feyre and Rhys were trying for a baby, Elain was traveling a lot, Nesta and Cassian were… Nesta and Cassian.

Now he only sees Madja every other week, and she seems quite impressed by his progress. She should be, you think, he’s a far cry from the male you kicked out of your apartment all those decades ago.

After a few weeks, you began opening up to him as well. How hard it was to leave, your relationships in your time apart, how empty everything had felt without him, how you’d developed some strong friendships in the years apart.

“I had to pick up the pieces of myself too, Az.”

His heart pangs with guilt, but you reach out for his elbow, eyes bright with beginnings.

“I always wondered what I’d do if you came back to me, but I never thought you’d be how you are now. You seem so… light?” Your voice comes out more like a question, and you chuckle. “You just seem so different, but in a good way.”

“I feel different. I feel like I’m not… like I’m not that little boy anymore. Like I don’t have to prove myself to be loved. If not by you, by someone.”

His words linger in the air and you couldn’t help the pride that swelled in your chest at his words.

“I do want it to be you, though. If you’d have me, that is.”

Your heart wanted you to lean forward, wanted nothing more than for you to wrap yourself in his embrace. But before either of you could move forward, you had to know, one way or another.

“Why did you keep pushing the wedding back?”

Your voice was soft and shaky, but the question had been lingering on your mind for so long, it was on the tip of your tongue every time the two of you met up.

“I couldn’t tell you before because you would have been so nice about it, but I- I thought I was ruining you. I didn’t want you, so kind, so wonderful, to be tethered to me for all eternity. But I was too selfish to let you go. I still am, I suppose.”

He shrugs, his shoulders folding inward toward you, his wings drooping a bit. “I know now how ridiculous that sounds, but I.. wanted you but I also wanted better for you.”

He turned toward you, his skin shining like gold in the sun. He was radiant - a word hardly ever used for him before. He looked as Helion does, as if the sun was redirecting its rays through him.

“So I became better for you, for myself, for my family.”

And that was what you needed to hear. It was never about you (in many ways it was), but at the end of the day, you always wanted what was best for the both of you.

And he became that.

On a beautiful summer day, you stood on your tiptoes, your hands reaching upwards to pull his face into yours.

And by gods even his kisses felt lighter.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

People who asked for a part two: @piceous21 @itsswritten @leeknows-wife @12344321heyyy @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @naturakaashi @janebirkln @slut4acotar @kaitttttttt @queerqueenlynn @anuttellaa @dee-writes-smut @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @michealharrypotter @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @dyingsinglecuzimfangirl @crazylokonugget @yearninglustfully

Thanks for reading 💕

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel #azriel x y/n #azriel angst

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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months

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wakanda

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, sex in Bucky's hut, he has one arm, woman on top, unprotected sex, dirty talk, insecurity.

Author's note: posting my old fic, while I'm working on that tattoo artist x bookshop owner one👀 If any of you have smut ideas (with some kinks maybe), feel free to write your requests

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. Unfortunately, Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky, so you weren’t allowed to see him.

The last time you were there with Steve and, even if you loved him to death, you couldn't deny the disappointment that you barely spent any time with Bucky alone. He was your best friend since you and Steve saved him in Bucharest, and you had the biggest crush on him for about the same amount of time.

At first, you had to visit Shuri and TChalla to talk through some moments, and that whole time you were bubbling with nerves and anticipation to finally see Bucky.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face in your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, not to mention that he looked fantastic. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two rushed to his hut with the food you had bought from a local cafe owned by a kind old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill.

Bucky talked about his goats and the way he felt better living in Wakanda, while you unconsciously moved closer to him, needing to fill the void that formed while you couldn’t see him. Bucky just stopped in the middle of the sentence, as if he realized that you were too close, looking at him with your big, pretty eyes.

Food was forgotten. Somehow, you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and hot kiss you had ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to keep you close.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth; your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss. Bucky couldn’t get enough of your taste; he bit your lip, then licked it with his tongue to calm down the delicate skin.

It felt so natural, like it was meant to happen a long time ago, and now you could not keep all of your emotions inside.

Bucky couldn't help but groan under his breath when your hand slipped into his hair, completely destroying his low bun. Your nails on his scalp felt majestic, and his brain became fuzzy with your gentle yet confident touches. Bucky moved his hand from your waist to your thigh, squeezing the soft and warm skin a little bit lower than your shorts.

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m so sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink blush on his cheeks.

"I want it, Bucky; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?" He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to express your unsaid feelings. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.”

You got closer, sitting more comfortably on top of him. One of your hands pressed onto the pillows near Bucky’s body, and the other one landed on his firm chest, playing with the red clothes that he was wearing. Bucky lifted his hand, gently grabbing your face and kissing you again. His soft lips and slow movements of his tongue inside your mouth made you moan.

“Can I take it off?” You mumbled, slightly pulling down the red material. More of his soft, tanned skin was shown, and you tried to hold yourself together and not overstep the line. Bucky’s pupils were dilated, almost completely hiding your favorite blues. He was closely watching your moving lips, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“If you feel more comfortable that way, then we can. But we don’t have to, if you suggest it only because of me.” You started to untangle his clothes, still watching his face to notice any signs of discomfort.

“Just leave it on, okay?”

“Okay.” As you removed the clothes from his chest, leaving the cover on his left shoulder, allowing you to see his perfectly sculpted body, your lips left soft kisses on Bucky’s cheek, going down to his neck and to his abs. You stopped there, feeling how the body underneath you tensed, and his hand gripped the duvet so hard that his knuckles became white. “Bucky?”

“‘M okay, it’s just been so long for me. Didn’t get used to feeling that way. And I want you so bad, doll, I can’t even explain it.” He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. You felt that his cock was painfully hard underneath you, and just thinking about touching it made you ten times wetter.

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked stunning with his slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and lustful and needy eyes. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.”

You placed a quick kiss on his lips before getting up. Bucky’s eyes were following your every move as you took off your shorts and t-shirt, staying in the cooling air only in your simple black underwear. But Bucky was looking at you like you were the most delicious and precious thing in the world, like he wanted to make love to you and completely destroy your body at the same time.

“Doll– fuck, everything else too, please.” He licked his lips, unconsciously moving his hips from the lack of attention. Your eyes slipped to his crotch, seeing how his cock was very visible through layers of clothes.

You just smiled at his desperation but still reached to the back to unclip your bra and then slide your panties down your legs. You didn’t waste any more time, going back to Bucky and finally completely taking off his clothes.

“Holy fuck…” Your mouth went completely dry when you pulled down his black boxers. You never found this part of a man’s body that attractive, but it was the prettiest dick you had ever seen. Thick and long, with a vein going around it and a slight curve towards his press. The shiny drop of pre-cum on the head made you instantly want to lick it, but the mumble of your name and calloused hand on the lower part of your back brought your attention back to Bucky.

“You’re going to kill me, doll. C’mere, please, I want– need to touch you. Need to kiss you.” Before you could even say something or move, his hand slipped under your ass and, without much effort, lifted you on top of him. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I want to worship you and make you feel good; I’m so sorry that I can’t.”

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however and wherever you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Shit– how are you so soft…” Bucky's hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and reaching for your sensitive nipples. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he did at that moment—to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Bucky!” Your hands pressed against his chest, and your head fell back with a moan when he pinched your nipple in between his fingers. He chuckled softly before sliding his hand down, right to your dripping core.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?”

“Y-yes, Bucky, please…” You almost cried at the feeling that he gave you. Even if it was a long time for him, Bucky definitely didn’t forget how to please a woman. Your legs desperately wanted to close from the stimulation on the clit, but since you were spread on top of him, you couldn’t do anything but whine and dig your nails into the hot skin under your hands. “Don’t tease me, just—fuck!”

“Taking my fingers so good, doll.” You knew that he was smiling because of your reaction as two thick digits slid inside of you, filling you so well but not enough at the same time. “You’re already ready for my cock, huh? Wanna feel how this pretty pussy stretches around me. C'mon, baby, help me.” Bucky moved his hips upward, and you felt how his dick was pressing on your ass.

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching behind you, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky placed his hand on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside.

It was too much. The burn of him stretching you was slightly painful, but it made you feel so full, as if the two pieces of puzzles finally added up. You both moaned, your head fell back, and you tried to go slowly and adjust to his size.

Bucky’s hand tightened on your hip, probably leaving red marks. He breathed deeply to control his fast-beating heart. You felt so fucking good, all wet and tight for him, that it was hard not to move his hips into you. But it was obvious that you needed some time based on your tensed body and slightly opened mouth.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, and you were not able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers.

You found a comfortable position, holding yourself with one hand on Bucky’s chest. The first movement of your hips was shocking, sending goosebumps all over your body. You both loudly moaned when you moved up, until he almost slipped out of you, and then down, burying his cock deeply inside.

Bucky’s lower half slightly moved up when his non-existent left arm wanted to grab your hips, and you must’ve noticed the disappointment and anger written on his face because you leaned a little bit lower and freed your hand from his grip, moving it to his face.

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, as well as skin slapping against skin. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end.

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, drawing you in for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body.

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm.

“Such a good pussy, takin’ me so well. ‘M close too, baby; ride my cock, c’mon. Get what you need.” He slapped your ass, encouraging you to move faster. “So pretty wrapped around me. Can I cum inside you, hm? Will you let me feel you up?”

Your head quickly nodded while you didn’t break eye contact with the man in front of you. Bucky bit his lip, trying to control himself and get you to the finish first, but you looked so fucking good on top of him, with your boobs jumping up and down, that he knew he couldn’t hold himself any longer. So he brought his hand to the lower part of your stomach, pressing his thumb against your swollen clit.

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me; ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated.

You felt the last movement of his hips until he froze, moaning into your ear, and emptied himself deeply inside of your spasming pussy. You unconsciously continued to squeeze around his cock, getting every single drop, as if your body was greedy to get more of his load.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body.

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him.

You weren't sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.”

part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky smut

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mickyschumacher · 9 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friends with benefits is never a good idea. friends with benefits with carlos sainz especially isn't a good idea.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors dni), jealousy, fwb to lovers trope!, let's hear it for the google translated spanish!!, unprotected sex again (using a condom is hot behaviour ♡︎), remnants of gaslighting?, oral sex, p in v, pussy eating, overstimulation, cumming inside, love confessions, set it up reference!, carlos realising his red flags, mention of rebecca donaldson as the other girl but she isn't vilified or anything (some peeps scare the shit outta me), idk anything about granada (except the memories of the alhambra! can i get an amen?)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x fwb!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6k+

𝐀/𝐍: this was a messaged request so i hope it was up to par! kinda long but we get there eventually. plot holes? yes. proof-read? um... to my sore eyes, yes.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆ •°. 。 .°• ⋆

There were many things the world still couldn't explain. The human body, the brain especially, why humans yawn, the cause of Alzheimers, or why tomatoes have 10,000 more genes than humans do.

In addition, you couldn't explain how you had gotten to be friend with benefits with none other than Carlos Sainz, an F1 driver for Ferrari.

Well... there were some parts you could explain. Like how you met. You were simply a girl from Pampaneira, Granada going grocery shopping after eating up the last of what was in your fridge and Carlos was a fresh bachelor who decided to spend a part of his vacation with his friends over 400 kilometres away from his Madrid home in Granada.

A fresh bachelor who also happened to need grocery's for his cousin's raging hangover.

To say you were the town's golden girl was a bit of an understatement. You were far too busy greeting all your local residents. You didn't notice Carlos when you first walked into the store.

But Carlos noticed you. Actually he noticed you before he even laid eyes on you. Your sweet floral perfume roamed the air and engulfed him, luring him without any words. And then he saw you.

You were a beautiful woman. Everything about you... the long hair, your glowing skin, curves every lover goes to dream about at night, eyes that you would never want to let down, your lips... God your lips, one look at them and no sane person could stop thinking about them... at night; and then there was your smile, a social service that could get rid of all the tension in this world.

You didn't notice Carlos until you felt a pair of eyes staring at you from the health isle that was poorly across from all your fruit. There was no shortage of attractive men in your town let alone Granada. But you had never seen a man like Carlos before.

The thicket of brown locks that you craved to run a hand through, his gorgeous tan skin that God must've given, the mysterious chocolate eyes, the perfectly plump lips which made you think he just had to be a good kisser, the slight scruff on his face that made you wonder how it would feel on your skin, the taut body... a gorgeous man.

You didn't know who Carlos was. In Pampaneira, although you new what it was, no one really cared for F1. It was a village that bordered on as a small town. Everyone here knew each other well and spent every second socialising.

You couldn't decide whether you wanted to talk to him or whether you were too nervous to. But it didn't matter because Carlos made the first move and introduced himself. You introduced yourself. He complimented you. You complimented him.

And that was that.

By nightfall, he was in your bed and the both of you had the most sinful, steamiest sex of your lives. So much that Carlos saw you for the rest of his time there. So much that when it was time to leave, Carlos told you to come with him.

And you did.

It was all of that that had led up to all of this. This being your attendance to a dinner at an F1 event as Carlos' plus one in Barcelona. He couldn't hide a beauty like you. Besides, the Spain paps had already managed to weasel their way into your relationshpi with Carlos. Most people thought you were dating. But Carlos had firmly laid the rule out as one did when you became friends with benefits: you don't fall in love. Neither one of you. You agreed for the sanity of your brain because you were far too attracted to the man to fall into the tricky waters of love.

"Holy shit, Carlos..." Lando swore when his eyes landed on the entrance of the dinner.

Carlos raised a brow at this driver, turning his head to the direction of Lando's gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw you. Every time he saw you, he couldn't be more thankful that he had eyes.

You had captured everyone's attention no doubt. How could they not look? Not when you were dressed in a light yellow satin material that hugged you in all the right places. Not when your neck was adorned in the diamond lariat necklace Carlos had brought you, hiding all the hickeys he had place there this morning. Not when the back of the dress scooped so far down that it only rested a few inches above your ass.

Christ, Carlos thought as he discreetly adjusted his tight pants. You were a sin.

You greeted all the drivers, laughing softly when Lily and Alexandra started to fawn over your appearance.

"I'm telling you, you are probably killing Carlos right now," Lily whispered on one side of you.

You rolled you eyes as Alexandra quipped on the other side, "Probably? Look at him. He is suffering."

You pressed your lips together, preventing a full-blow grin from washing onto your face.

That was kind of the point.

You tried to avoid as much of Carlos as you could because riling him up was one of your favourite pastimes. But in your endeavour, you felt a familiar hand graze your bare back, sending a warm tingle up your spine.

"All of this when we don't get to finish the night together? No juegas limpio, mi niña bonita," Carlos' lust-ridden voice whispered as his head dipped down, letting him place a small kiss behind your ear. You don't play fair, my pretty girl.

You gave him a meek smile. As much as you loved his compliments, they were starting to get you these days. The endearments combine with his actions were stirring up feelings that should be sounding alarms in your head.

"Jugar limpio no es divertido," You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to divert you eyes to the dinner. Playing fair is no fun.

"That's true." Carlos poked his tongue in his cheek upon hearing your remark. You reminded him of a firecracker. Always ready to burst and come back with something to say.

"You have to admit it is sad though, hmm? Because all I want to do is take that dress off you and fuck you. I want to make you cum over and over again till all you can call yourself is mine. I want to watch my cum fall from your pussy because you can't take it all, niña bonita. And then I want to push it right back in so you can walk around with it all day. Soon. I promise."

You let out a shaky breath as Carlos' breathing became heavier and heavier. You chewed down on your bottom lip, standing a bit straighter to discreetly clench your legs together. With a small smile, you turned to Carlos. "I hate you," You told him in the softest and sweetest voice you could muster.

Carlos grinned, making your heart skip a beat. He put his hands around your waist, his chest facing your back, and his chin resting on your collarbone. "Please. You love me."

You blinked blankly at the cold splash of reality that fell over you. You gave a dry and short laugh. You patted his hand with your own. "En tus sueños, Carlos." In your dreams, Carlos.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Mornings without Carlos usually meant you had energy because you weren't having your brains fucked out. But your usual opening of your socials had brought something that drained you entirely.

You stared at your ceiling of your hotel room blankly. Regardless of whether Carlos was awake right now, he wouldn't have even seen this. He didn't read any other news other than his favourites like ESPN or the CBS Sports Network.

You rubbed your eyes tiredly. What was this feeling in your stomach? Anger? Annoyance? Jealousy? You couldn't really put a finger on it and nor could you tell why.

You turned to plant your face in your pillow and let out a muffled groan.

How did you even get here?

Right. The grocery store.

You missed home. Home was an almost 2 hour flight or an eight hour car ride away. You missed when things were simple. When they made sense. Because lately, nothing had made any sense.

The thought of home brought you to the next train of thought: food. And as if on cue, your stomach growled at you with demand. So with the motivation of not starving to death, you got ready to have breakfast and headed down to the nearest cafe because hotel room service sucked.

Opting for a mocha with an extra sugar to counteract the bitterness in your life, you sat down with some a variety of churros and croissants to choose from.

Your phone blared it's default ringtone, capturing your attention. Your eyes flickered over the name and your heart softened and your bad mood had slightly eased. You grabbed the device and slid your thumb to the right.

"Buenos dias, mamà," You greeted. Good morning, mama.

You could hear her exclaim with joy, a sound you hadn't heard in a while. "Ah, mi niña bonita, buenos dias! ¿Cómo estás? No has leído las noticias, ¿verdad?" Ah, my pretty girl, good morning! How are you? You haven't read the news, have you?

You winced at your mother's pet name. You hated this. You hated that the lines between before Carlos and during Carlos were blurring.

"Sí, mamá, lo hice. Don't worry. It's just gossip. All fake," You told her even though you had no idea yourself. Yes, mama, I did.

You heard a sigh of relief from the other side of the call, making your heart hurt. "Right? I thought so. Carlos would never do that. Es un buen chico." He's such a good boy.

You could only tightly smile, agree, and be thankful you weren't seeing your mother in person otherwise she would've been able to tell straight away. You didn't know because all you had agreed on with Carlos was attraction. Nothing more and nothing less.

You caught up a bit with your mother. The conversation ended with her demanding a family dinner to which you told her you would see if Carlos had the time.

It was a simple conversation yet it was eye-opening.

You wanted that family dinner so badly. You wanted to be able to go see your mother and Carlos hang out. Hell, his own mother wanted you to call her mom. You wanted the stupid romantic things like dates, a person who would listen to you, the whispers of sweet nothings because... because you were in love with him.

Of course you were. Sure Carlos slightly had a quick temper and he wasn't that great at being emotional with you or anyone for that matter... but there was that saying: you like because and you love despite. Despite all of his flaws–because no matter how great a man is, he has his flaws–you loved him.

“Buenos dias, cariño,” A familiar voice greeted behind you. Good morning, sweetheart.

You turned your head, finding the root cause of all your problems stand before you with the most handsome smile.

"Carlos," You said with a slightly surprised tone.

Carlos smiled in return, placing a lingering kiss on the side of your head before he sat in front of you. The both of you waited for his coffee to be placed on the table before any conversation between you resumed.

"It's a beautiful day, no? I feel good about this weekend too. It kind of feels like everything is coming together," Carlos told you, raising his brows excitedly at you.

You gave a gentle smile, taking a long sip of your mocha. Slowly you placed the cup down and took in a sharp breath of air. "Carlos... can I tell you something?"

Carlos furrowed his brows and softly laughed at your almost worried tone. He nodded. "Sí, cualquier cosa." Yes, anything.

You looked down at your cup, fingers tracing the rim of the glass as you wondered how to start. Your mouth opened and closed, uncertainty closing in on you. Your eyes snapped up at the taunt of your name slipping from Carlos' mouth.

Okay... you got this.

"Carlos, I... I don't think we should do this anymore."

The crinkles in between in eyebrows and amused smile on his face told you that you had lost him. "You are going to have to be a lot more specific than that, mi niña bonita."

You chewed at your bottom lip. This nickname was getting tiring if he didn't mean it the way you wanted it to. "I mean us, Carlos. This... whatever this is. Friends with benefits... our relationship... it has to stop."

Any amusement on Carlos' face had dropped. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he tried to think back on how you had come to this decision. "I–what? What do you mean? Did something happen? I thought this was going fine... amazing, even."

"This isn't working for me anymore. I don't want to do this anymore," You shrugged with the pretence you didn't care.

Carlos grabbed your hand with his, rubbing the back of yours gently. "Is this the stupid headline thing? Cariño, they don't know what they're talking about."

"You didn't even deny it," You laughed softly as a bitter taste arose in your mouth and you slipped your hand our of his grasp.

Carlos stared at you for a while, unable to defend himself. "I don't understand. We agreed from the start that this wasn't going to be exclusive all the time. Three rules: it's open, we respect each other and we don't... we don't fall in love."

You paid no attention to where Carlos had paused. You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal. "It's not that... I just... I don't want to do this, okay? Just leave it alone."

"Then what is it? I know you. You can give me a better explanation than 'I don't want to do this'. I can't leave this alone. Did someone say something to you? Did they do something? I swear, Y/N, if they did–"

"No," You quickly and sharply interjected. You took a deep breath. "Carlos.. I want more from you. I don't just want to see you every night and morning. I want to see you when we go out to have dinner. I don't want to be your sidepiece, Carlos. I can't... not when I feel like this."

The silence from Carlos was deafening. He struggled to open his mouth. His eyes twinkled with pain. "But you know I can't give you that."

Right. Carlos Sainz didn't do relationships. He was an F1 driver. They liked pass the parcel. And it just so happened, you were his parcel.

You nodded slowly. "Lo sé. Por eso lo siento. I'm sorry for ruining things between us but I can't do this anymore. Because if I do... I'm afraid I fall even further. And that's not fair on me." I know. That's why I'm sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

As much as you would like to say you were a responsible citizen who didn't make bad decisions when you were upset, you couldn't.

The offer of clubbing by some of the girlfriends of the drivers was far too appealing in your situation. Your agreement excited the girls because you rarely joined them on these outings because you were too caught up with a certain Spaniard. Granted they didn't know the real reason behind why you were so ready to join them but what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

As you arrived to the club, Lily let out a low whistle when she laid eyes on you. "How do you say hot as fuck in Spanish? Because my oh my you are hot as fuck right now."

She wasn't wrong. You felt hot as fuck right now. It was a warm night in Barcelona and the sexy black long sleeve mini dress, the same one you reserved for Carlos, was staring at you, begging for you to take it out of your suitcase. It stuck to your curves, it had some scandalous cuts, and it was backless. A perfect dress for Carlos? Sure. But a perfect dress to let go of yourself in a club.

You almost snorted at the golfer's theatrics but instead you opted for a flutter of your eyelashes and a stretch of your hand. "Oh dear madam, you flatter me!" You thanked her in a poorly imitated British accent.

Heidi and Alexandra laughed quietly as Lily rolled her eyes before grabbing your hands. "Let's go! I need some tequila!"

Quickly all four of you were by the bar, taking shots of cava (Spanish wine) instead of tequila. Well, you watched them take shots of cava. You may not be having the best day in the world but you were smart and sober enough to know that you and alcohol was not a good mix right now. And all the pleas of these girls could not convince you to do it.

Soon enough, you were all on the dance floor. The club couldn't be more of a club: sweaty bodies dancing on each other, old 2000s' music thrumming so loudly that you would think it was coursing through your veins, neon lights flashing rapidly across the room.

You... you were a vixen, dancing your way through all the bodies, relishing in all the lingering eyes you had captured. Every move you made was unintentionally alluring; your long tresses grazing your skin seductively, sticking to your skin at times as the humidity of the club made you shimmer in the flickering lights while you controlled the pulsing rhythm.

Lily, Heidi, and Alexandra watched in a shortly-lived awe before their eyes widened as a guy behind you edged closer to you. You could feel his breath brush pass the nape of your neck while the heat of his body began to circle you as his chest neared your back.

You couldn't feel a damn shiver down your spine that made you feel good as you once did but you weren't sure if you care that much. With the music blaring and your urge to escape reality without a sip of alcohol, you got closer to the man.

Dancing slowly to the music, you moved your ass closer to the man, feeling his hand lay on your waist. Your head fell back on to his should as he began grind his body into you. You squinted at the purple and pink lights floating in the air, frustrated. Why wasn't your body reacting the way you wanted it to?

The man's lips ghosted over the shell over your ear and he whispered, "Let's get out of here, baby."

Your mouth opened to respond but before you could let out a syllable, you felt the man's presence disappear and a hand grab your forearm, pulling you towards them.

You snapped your eyes to the figure, eyes widening slightly at the familiar brown locks, flushed cheeks, and the same chocolate eyes. Only those eyes were far darker. The host of pure craze.

"Carlos–"

"I think she's fine. You can leave," Carlos said curtly, ignoring your call of his name, brown eyes firmly planted on the stranger.

The man, sensing Carlos' anger and annoyance, held his arms up in defence and walked away.

Without looking at you, Carlos held his rigid grip on your arm and hastily walked you out of this club with heavy steps. You could spot the trio of girls nearby whispering their apologies, concerns, and how they forgot to mention they invited the guys.

"Carlos," You called wearily, watching him open the door of his Ferrari.

"Entra," He looked over at the door, waiting for you expectedly as he leaned on the car. Get in.

"What? No, Carlos, let's talk about this–"

"Get in the damn car and then we'll talk about this."

You let out a huff at the absolute resolve Carlos sported on his face. With a clenched jaw, you dipped down into the Ferrari, immediately finding the comfort in the familiar seat. You peered over towards Carlos, who was walking to the driver's seat.

Fucking hell. What had you gotten yourself into?

Silently, Carlos slammed the door shut. He took a glance at you and sighed before reaching out to grab your seatbelt and click it into place. The cologne you had gotten to used to infiltrated your nose as heat radiated off of his body. Putting the car into drive, Carlos was off onto the streets.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The ride to your hotel was fast. Carlos was well over the speed limit and all the buildings zipped past you like lightning. It was unnerving to see the combination of speed, silence, and anger in Carlos but you were lying to yourself if you said you didn't find it somewhat attractive. Carlos' hands firmly on the wheel, his taut jaw, hardened eyes... God, you were awful.

Not wanting to cause any commotion for all the gossiping fans, you both quietly arrived to your hotel room. You both took off your shoes silently by the door. You took a little longer, fiddling with the straps of your heels in hope to by you some time to think of something... anything to say.

With nothing coming to mind, you turned around to Carlos standing in front of you. His brown eyes stared hard at you while he chewed the inner corner of his mouth. You let out a small exhale when you felt his hand caress your cheek, the soft pad of his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.

"Carlos..." You called once again.

Carlos momentarily closed his eyes at the feeling of your breath against his hand. "We barely finished our conversation this morning and you were going to fuck some stranger? Hmm?"

"I–" You wanted to say no. You really did. But you weren't raised a liar. "Yes. I was," You stated almost apathetically. You returned his sharp stare with a pointed look. "What is it to you?"

Carlos sucked in a sharp breath of air. His other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you so you were flushed against him. He pushed down the grin that was beginning to form once he felt your hardened nipples against his chest. He dipped his head down to your ear. "Say it again. I dare you. Try it again and see if I won't fuck you and edge you over and over again."

Your mouth fell open at Carlos' declaration while your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. You swallowed all the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, letting out a nervous incredulous sneer. "You wouldn't. You're driving tomorrow."

In addition to the three rules, Carlos had a special one of his own: no fucking the day before driving or throughout the weekend. Because of his addiction to your body and the animal he was, sex expended far too much of his energy and he knew for a fact that his team would be able to tell.

The hairs on your body stood straight and goosebumps began to travel down your skin as Carlos' thumb trailed from your lips to the valley of your breasts. His head tilted to the side, eyes moving from your tightly covered tits to your face. The corner of his mouth tugged up, forming a humoured smirk. "You don't think I will? After the shit you pulled? I made you a promise yesterday, cariño, and I'm going to fulfil it."

You let out a soft exhale. Your heart was racing in your ears. "Carlos... this isn't right. I meant what I said. I can't pretend like everything is fine like you. Besides you said it was open, right? You, out of all people, can't react like this."

Carlos' possessiveness was something you could never entirely wrap your head around. Sometimes it was there and other days it wasn't. He was all over a model yesterday and now he was pulling you away from other men? It was ironic.

The gaze that Carlos held told you there was something he wanted to say, right on the tip of his tongue. But he couldn't say it. No... he couldn't admit it.

But you gladly would for him.

"You're afraid, Carlos. And I don't blame you. You've never had a serious relationship, you never committed, you never fallen in love so I'm not that surprised. But you've got to understand that I can't stay with you like this."

Carlos huffed in amusement, shaking his head shortly after. "You're wrong."

You raised a brow. "Am I?"

He nodded slowly. "I mean you're right about the relationships and commitment," He started, ensuring his eyes were firmly planted on you, "But I've fallen in love."

Your shoulders slump at his admission. Great. This was exactly what you needed right now. "Y-You have?" You asked with a small voice and a want to blare some heavy music through yours ears.

Carlos nodded once again. "At first sight. In a grocery store. There was this girl. She walked in, didn't notice me. But I saw her. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She laughed and smiled with the locals and I thought that for a second I died and went to heaven. I caught her eye and introduced myself. She did the same–"

"Carlos..." You interjected, feeling your heart pick up it's pace once again.

But the Spaniard continued his story. "We complimented each other, we talked and joked. Then we went to bed that same night. It was perfect. And after we finished, the thought of losing someone like her scared me. It was so terrifying that instead of asking her out, like a normal person, I asked her to become a bloody sidepiece out of all things. Can you believe it? I was an idiot... an idiot in love. I still am an idiot. Because she told me she loves me and I haven't done anything about it. Well, till now."

Carlos let out a long exhale, eyes nervously darting across your face, trying to draw any conclusions of your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes. "I hate you."

"What?" Carlos spluttered.

"Kidding!" You broke out into smile. "I love you too, Carlos. Not as much as you though. First sight? You are down bad," You jested, trying to not let all the fluttering feelings swirling in your body burst out of you.

Carlos blinked blankly at you. You were unbelievable. He shook his head at you, feigning a look of disappointment as he pulled you towards the bed. The soft sheets morphed around you, lulling you to a comfort you had been craving ever since you had put on your heels.

You eyed the lust-ridden look Carlos had. "I was being serious, Carlos. You're racing tomorrow. You have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere. Besides, sex after a podium sounds nice," You offered, hanging your arms around his neck as he hovered over you.

Carlos smiled gently at your confession, heart warm at the thought of you by his side. He pushed your hair behind your ears. "As sweet as that is... I was also serious about my promise."

Carlos' leaned in, taking in one last glance of you before pressing his lips to yours. Goosebumps began to swarm every inch of your skin as his hands trailed down your body, finding your hips. If only he knew his tracks the way he knew your body.

You let out a small moan, giving Carlos a new access to your mouth. Your skin prickled with a new wave of heat that was unlike any before. Because this time you knew things were different. He loved you. And you loved him back.

You felt Carlos' tongue invade your mouth while his warm hands had moved to your bare thighs. His grip on your skin tightened as he revelled in the feeling of your plump skin rolling and burning in his hands. All because he touched you.

He removed his swollen lips from yours. The very same lips quirked at your whine. "You know this dress was driving me crazy?" He told you, planting his lips on your neck. His fingers skated up your thigh, inching loser towards your heated pussy.

Christ.

You leaned into his touch, losing yourself as he marked your skin with his love. His lips sucked on your soft skin with a greed the both of you had never felt before.

"Yeah? When? When you first saw me or when I was grinding on that guy?" You teased, running a hand through Carlos' dark brown locks.

Carlos paused, looking up at you with narrowed eyes. His fingers continued to travel, finding the soft and soaked fabric of your panties. "Niña bonita, you sure talk a lot for someone who is so wet from only kisses," He murmured against your lips as he pressed a finger on your cloth-covered folds and lightly grazed your clit.

You gasped at the sharp tingle shooting up your body. "Fuck, Carlos," You sighed, feeling a certain craving begin to settle in.

Carlos sported a grin that you almost wanted to smack off of his face. A feeling which only intensified once he removed his finger from your clit, leaving you breathless as he removed your dress. He sucked in a sharp breath coming across your bare body. "You know... going braless I get," He started while he trailed his finger down the valley of your breasts and towards your pussy. His finger stopped right above your clit. "But no underwear?"

You stayed silent, chest heaving at his touch. You were waiting for Carlos to push you right into the ecstasy you had been bordering on. "Carlos, please."

Carlos smiled at your strained plea, bringing his lips to your stomach. "Your pleasure is my pleasure," He remarked.

You watched as Carlos' head dipped down between your legs, hands firmly wrapped around your thighs. "Fuck, you are soaking, cariño," He called out, eyeing your glistening folds and feeling the heat radiate off of them.

You squirmed at his breath travelling up your spine. "Only for you," You rasped.

Carlos could only feel his heart pace as he watched you clench around nothing. His cock was flushed against the fabric of his pants and his underwear. Fuck, the pain was almost a dizzying as the arousal he was receiving. You were so good to him... oh the things you did to him. Good girls deserved rewards, did they not?

Your mouth fell open as Carlos' tongue laid flat against your folds, taking one long lap at your arousal. You could feel him smile against your thighs. "You taste so good," He murmured before plunging his tongue back into your warm folds.

He explored every crevice of your pussy while you hand shot out to his brown locks, pushing his head further into you. The obscene grunts that echoed in the room after leaving Carlos' mouth were nothing compared to the pace he had taken. He was devouring you; inhaling and savouring your very essence.

You removed your hand from his hair and the back of your head fell into the soft sheets. Your hips bucked against his tongue while soft moans fell from your swollen lips. "So good, Carlos, fuck," you cried out, voice straining from the pleasure.

Carlos took your praise as encouragement, pushing his tongue further into your slick folds while his thumb found your needy clit. He circled the sensitive bundle with a teasing gentleness that sent bursts of throbbing pleasure down your core.

A groan fell from his mouth upon feeling your hand in his hair once again. The slight tremble of your thighs and the clenching of your pussy told him that he was doing everything right. You were on the brink of losing it.

"Cum for me, niña bonita," Carlos urged, thumb rubbing your clit faster and tongue lapping at your puffy folds.

Your hips quivered against Carlos' tongue, thighs tightening around his head as your eyes shut tightly, finding a white light in the dark abyss. Your eyes watered while your mind became absent in your climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Carlos!"

Carlos momentarily stopped his actions, watching your face contort in pure pleasure. You looked beautiful. Hot, naturally, but beautiful. The thin sheen of sweat made you glow and your swollen lips with the few traces of lipstick were a hot mess but he loved it.

"No, no, no," You mumbled in quick turns when you felt his tongue and thumb return not a return a single second later.

"I said multiple orgasms, cariño. You can give me another."

Despite your refusal and the slight burn of your sensitive folds, your body liked to betray you, convulsing once again. Your hips trembled against his touch while your fingers grasped the bedsheets tightly.

Christ. Carlos was going to be the death of you.

Carlos greedily and happily watched your overstimulated pussy grind against him involuntarily. By the last quiver of your hips, he gave you a warm smile, mouth lowering to leave a trail of kisses across your stomach. "Well done, mi hermosa princesa." Well done, my beautiful princess.

You gave a tired smile, feeling a little less than beautiful with your sex sweat-ridden hair and skin sticking to the sheets.

"Princesa, are you sure you can handle my cock? I haven't tired you out too much, have I? Carlos queried, half with genuine concern and the other half with a tone that was almost patronising.

You narrowed your eyes before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Well, you did promise to fuck me. If you can't, then nevermind."

Carlos couldn't tell whether he was proud or tired of your shit. You were clearly tired yet you had a lot to say back. Like he said, you were a firecracker.

With one hand, he removed his polo shirt. His brown eyes bore into yours as he slowly removed his pants. His lips quirked at your sharp intake of air once your eyes feasted on the throbbing bulge in his underwear.

Your heart thudded against your chest while you sat up from your position and inched closer towards him. You looked up at him with big eyes, hand trailing down his taut chest.

Carlos heaved, feeling the you skim past his body hair. His tongue darted out, resting on his lips as he carefully watched you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the waistband of his underwear.

"Fuck me," Carlos muttered under his breath, eyes glued to you while you pulled his underwear down.

Carlos quickly removed his underwear from his feet and in hast movements, pushed you onto your back. He rolled his eyes at the teasing laugh that fell from your lips despite it being the most pleasing sound to his ears.

You looked at the Spaniard hovering above you, hand gently brushing his cheek. You smiled, running a hand through his hair. "I love you, mi amor." I love you, my love.

Carlos held your gaze, chest heaving at your sudden admission. He felt impossibly warm. It was like the first time he had met you all over again. He felt the same way the night you first had sex. He whispered, "Again. I want to hear it again, please."

Your eyes softened and your heart ached at his earnest plea. "I love you, Carlos. Forever."

Carlos stared at you for another second before bringing you into a long kiss. "I love you more."

You let out a small whimper, feeling Carlos' thick cock against your engorged pussy. You watched as his eyes became clouded with lust. Just rubbing his cock against your folds was an obscene high that made the both of you shiver.

The sudden jerk of your hips as his cock rubbed your sensitive and overstimulated clit made you cry out. "Fuck...," You moaned out, "I need your cock, mi amor. Please."

Carlos was so lost in the pleasure it took the slight dig of your nails in his forearms to ground him once again. "Me too, princesa," He grunted, selfishly grazing your clit again with his cock just so he could watch your hips jolt once again. Fuck. Your reaction drove him crazy.

Carlos forced himself to get ahold of himself and focus on pushing his cock into your pussy. Your hands fell to his neck, steadying yourself while a gratifying burn ached through your core. "Me estás llenando, amor. Muévete, por favor, Carlos." You're filling me up, love. Please move, please, Carlos.

A groan flew from Carlos' lips as he fell into your plead, hips beginning to rut against you. Your swollen folds clamped around him, holding a vice-like grip on his aching cock.

Your sweaty skin stuck against one another while Carlos brought this lips to yours, consuming all your lewd moans with sloppy kisses. He pushed his cock further into you, feeling his balls slap against you, making the most immoral and obscene sounds known to man.

With one hand placed on your hip, the other travelled to grope your breast. Rubbing your nipples in a circular motion, a shudder erupted through you, feeling your clit brush against his cock with each thrust of his.

Carlos looked down at you, feeling his cock pulse at the fucked out expression that teetered on your face. You could barely breathe with all the air escaping your lungs as the familiar white light edged near you. You clenched around his cock, signing Carlos that you were close.

"Carlos, fuck. I'm going to.... I'm going to..." You panted, unable to get out the words as the lust rang throughout your brain.

"You're going to cum? Tell me, mi amor, who did this to you? Who makes you feel this good, hmm?" Carlos beckoned, increasing the snap of his hips.

You cried out, right on the cusp of pleasure. "Tú, mierda, tú lo haces. Fuck!" You, fuck, you do.

Everything around you became a blur, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pleasure. Your moans were silent but your body said it loudly: shaking against Carlos' cock.

"That's right. Me. No one el–shit," Carlos cursed, feeling your orgasm in his cock as you clenched around him. A high-pitched sporadic whine fell from his lips, hips stuttering against you.

The both of you moaned as his hot white cum spilled into your walls. Your folds clamped around him, taking every last droplet into your pussy.

You fell against the bed with an exhausted sigh. You felt the bed dip as Carlos did the same. You felt his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You turned your head to the side, raising a brow at the chocolate eyes flickering over you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, cariño. I should've never ever let you be in a position where you felt like a fucking sidepiece. You are so much more than that. The love of my life," Carlos murmured, pushing a greasy lock of hair behind your ear.

Fuck. This was a new side of him you were seeing. The emotionally available one. And you loved it. "Well, as long as I'm not a sidepiece again," You shrugged, laughing softly.

"Never," Carlos confirmed. "You can beat me with those heels of yours if I ever do."

"Hmm... tempting. Although the guy from the club looks so much stronger. Did you see his muscles? So big," You fawned, fluttering your eyes dramatically.

Carlos sighed, shaking his head. An amused smile spawned on his face upon hearing you burst into laughter.

You were going to be the death of him.

#mickyschumacher #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #formula 1

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murdrdocs · 9 months

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kiss me | s. stilinski

description. stiles loves nothing more than to have a taste of your lips

includes. SMUT 16+, stiles is a munch, oral sex (f receiving), AFAB! anatomy, no pronouns, sweet boyfriend!stiles, takes place after s3b (like right after probably), they have a pool day!

a/n: I was singing the song as I typed this document up hence the title plus I wrote this just to get back in the flow of writing okay enjoy (deff not proofread that well I'm busy)

word count: 1.8k+

His hair is clearly dripping wet, blobs of water falling down onto his shoulders with each step that he takes. The water that falls from the rest of his body to meet the concrete is expected, you pay it no mind, and maybe you would’ve felt similarly about the droplets from his hair. But Stiles is approaching you with a mischievous grin, one that tells you he’s up to no good. It’s almost unsettling; mouth turned up at the corners in a thin smile, brown eyes widened. There’s just enough humor in the amber orbs for you to know that he’s not planning anything too evil, but you’re still on edge.

“Stiles…” you warn, legs already shrinking in on yourself, book folding closed with your thumbs in the center to keep your page. He’s just a few steps away from you now and up close you can see the tan he’s gotten from the pool day. It sits prominently along his shoulders and across his nose, the color standing out against his usual paleness.

He looks good. Especially with his trunks hanging low, clinging to every part of him, summer conditioning for lacrosse treating him well as he has muscles cut into his abdomen, along with a newer definition to his shoulders and arms. He looks good. And you could admire that more if your borderline-evil boyfriend were not standing right beside you, bending down, tilting his head towards you…

The squeal you let out is girly, high pitched, one you would see in a movie and remark about how people don’t actually sound like that in real life. Turns out: they do. Usually when water is slinging all over your previously dry body, just barely avoiding the book that you move out of the way just in time.

Stiles laughs, the sound joyous and pretty to your ears. You can’t help but echo it, letting go of your book to hit his forearm, barely any malice in the touch.

“Come on, you know I couldn’t help myself.” His smile is infectious, too. Your faux stern expression that you’d quickly painted onto your face melts into a grin, one that has Stiles leaning down to kiss you this time, a soft kiss that sticks your lips to his even as he tries to pull away. There’s a layer of chapstick added to his lips when he comes back in for a second kiss, and a third.

You let him, taking advantage of the loneliness in the Martin backyard.

Lydia went inside a half hour ago to do god knows what, while Scott and Kira went on a run to grab lunch. Which left you and Stiles alone, with a large pool, and an even larger backyard to yourselves.

If it weren’t for your lonesome, you wouldn’t let Stiles lay between your legs, head on your lower belly while his big eyes looked up at you. The position is innocent, for now at least, but you know Stiles, and you know that even the presence of his friends wouldn’t get rid of his one track mind.

His motives start coming to the forefront when his long fingers teasingly pull at the string of your bikini bottoms.

“This suit is nice. Did I tell you that already?” He did. And he knows he did.

You hum, reopening your book to your last page, focusing your attention on the sentences instead of Stiles with hopes of deterring him.

“You did. Multiple times.” Once when you asked his opinion as you were buying it, another when you tried it on for him after it came in the mail last week, another when you packed it for the day in front of him, and a final time when you came sauntering out of Lydia’s house in it, oiled up and ready to sunbathe.

Still, Stiles plays dumb, brows furrowing in the way that tells you he knows the answer to whatever question is about to slip past his lips. “Did I?”

You roll your eyes, already starting to form a snarky reply, but then his fingertips dip below the thin string of your bottoms, and his lips graze the material at the front, just a few inches above your clit.

You jump involuntarily, lowering the book from your face to glare at him once you recover. He flashes a brief, innocent smile, then his eyes lower back to their main focus. His thumb and forefinger rubs the silky material of your suit bottoms, the slightest tug loosening the bow just a little.

“If you want me to stop …” he licks his lips, glances up at you for a split second to gauge your reaction. “Then you gotta tell me now.”

He hesitates, one end of the string pinched between his fingers, and he stares at you, waiting. You take a breath, glance behind you at the backdoor which is still closed, look towards the back exit of the mansion to try and see if Scott and Kira are returning.

Your teeth trap your bottom lip between them and you roll the flesh a few times before sighing. “Scott and Kira probably won’t be back for a while, right?”

Stiles nods.

“And Lydia is … busy, yeah?”

“Pretty sure she went to meet her new boy toy and just didn’t tell us.”

A soft, gentle smile from you. “Then okay.”

Although he was the one doing the convincing, Stiles still seems shocked to hear you agree. His eyebrows shoot up, an appalled look on his features. “Okay?”

Your nod is barely complete before Stiles is peeling your bottoms off. They’re completely dry, at least in terms of treated salt water. It just makes the wet patch inside of them more noticeable. Stiles stares in awe, lips parted, borderline drool slipping out of them. He licks his lips, throws your bottoms off to the side, and then he’s level with your cunt, hands sliding under your thighs to open you up for him.

“I just want a little taste,” he’s murmuring, most likely to himself.

You nod anyway, pushing your hips towards him. “Be quick,” comes your warning.

“Mhm. Yeah.” But Stiles is already leaning in, tongue licking a wide stripe up from your hole to your clit. It makes you shiver, as the first touch always does, but his kiss into your clit is expected and welcomed, a deep sigh emptying from your chest.

His kitten licks to your clit are appreciated, providing the stimulation needed if he were teasing you, but when the return of your friends is random, and they could come back at any moment, you need more if you’re going to get off quick.

Your hand reaches down, tangling in Stiles’ dark locks, nails scratching at his scalp. He hums, just when his lips are wrapped around your clit, and the vibration is heavenly, akin to the ones you get from the toy under your bedside table. But like always, having the pleasure come from your living, breathing, insanely hot boyfriend is unsurpassable.

You tug gently on the wet strands, pushing aside the intrusive thoughts centering on how unpleasant the feeling of wet hair is when Stiles moans this time. You know how much he loves going down on you, and you know how he likes to have his hair pulled just enough, so his tendency to get lost in the feeling and the act is expected. Doesn’t mean it’s wanted.

You tell him you want more, the simple word almost a growl from your lips. He’s quick to obey, adjusting his grip on your legs so he can practically dive in.

His tongue makes quick work of sucking up your juices, and adding to the slip with his saliva. Stiles licks and sucks and flicks his tongue in ways that you can barely even comprehend, his skillset coming from nothing other than determined practice where he’s made you cum again, and again, and again, just so you can tell him what he can do to improve.

The sessions were tortuous at times, a little humorous when approached from outside of the bedroom, but you’re thankful that you did them in moments like this.

Because it barely takes anytime before you can see the start of an orgasm just over the horizon. You’re climbing up the hill, Stiles pushing you further and further as he probes your entrance with his tongue, a warning for his middle finger that quickly follows. The ring finger is added in a succession that makes you gasp, the stretch just enough to provide the right amount of stimulation.

His long, deft digits replace his mouth, giving him time to peel back and speak to you.

“That’s right. Right there, yeah?” His fingertips curl at your favorite spot, brushing the sensitive area before attacking it head on. You nod, eyes squeezing shut, cutting off your view of the clear sky. “Uh-uh, none of that.” The demand in his tone makes your lower stomach swirl, a feeling that tells you to go another round, even when the first one has yet to end.

“Look at me.” His voice reaches a depth that you’re used to hearing, usually towards the end of the night when you both need each other in ways that only the steamiest sex can satisfy. He’s commanding you, easily as you do as told, eyes opening and head swiveling down to bring your gaze to your boyfriend.

His hair has started to dry, the strands a little awkward as they dry in an untidy pattern, but it looks good on him. Dark hair hanging over his forehead, almost reaching darker eyebrows as he’s due for a cut. His cheeks flushed from the sun, the lightest freckles dotting them. He’s pretty everywhere, gorgeous even, but your focus zero in on his lips.

They’re pink, and coated in glistening essence. It makes you groan, saliva released by your glands like you’re fucking Pavlov’s dog or something. Stiles notices where your attention has gone, a cocky smirk on his lips.

“Wanna kiss me? Hm?” He’s so attentive to what you want, always. It’s both a blessing and a curse, embarrassment entering your body, but quickly replaced with gratitude since you didn’t have to voice the want yourself, surely leading to your words being disjointed and broken up.

Your nod suffices as an affirmation, and you start to reach down to meet him halfway. But Stiles doesn’t move. Instead, his fingers stuff deeper into you, clearly on a mission as his thumb of the other hand comes to your clit, rubbing tight circles that are driven by a motivation to send you over the edge. To have you reach the horizon.

“Then cum for me.”

And of course, you do as told.

#stilesworld!#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinski #celeste writes misc #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf smut #teen wolf x you #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf

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dermatouchskincare · 8 months

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How to remove tan from hands immediately

Removing tan from your hands immediately can be challenging, as most methods take time to show noticeable results. However, you can try some quick remedies to reduce the appearance of tan on your hands:

How to remove tan from hands immediately

Lemon Juice:

Lemon juice is a natural bleaching agent. Squeeze fresh lemon juice onto your hands and rub it in. Leave it on for 10-15 minutes, then rinse with cool water. Be cautious if you have sensitive skin, as lemon juice can be drying.

Potato:

Rub a slice of raw potato on your tanned areas. Potato contains natural bleaching agents that can help lighten the skin.

Cucumber:

Cucumber has soothing and lightening properties. Apply cucumber slices or cucumber juice to your hands and leave it on for 15-20 minutes.

Aloe Vera:

Aloe vera gel is known for its cooling and healing properties. Apply a thin layer of aloe vera gel to your hands and leave it on for 20-30 minutes.

Milk and Saffron:

Soak a few saffron strands in milk and apply the mixture to your hands. Saffron has skin-lightening properties.

Yogurt and Turmeric:

Mix yogurt with a pinch of turmeric and apply it to your hands. Turmeric is a natural skin brightener.

Baking Soda:

Make a paste with baking soda and water and gently scrub your hands with it. This can help exfoliate the tan.

Oatmeal Scrub:

Combine oatmeal with a little water and scrub your hands with this mixture. Oatmeal is a gentle exfoliator.

Hydration:

Drink plenty of water and moisturize your hands regularly. Hydrated skin tends to recover more quickly.

Wear Sunscreen:

To prevent further tanning, always apply a broad spectrum sunscreen with SPF 30 or higher to your hands before going out in the sun.

Please note that these methods may not produce immediate results but can help over time. If you need quick results, consider using makeup or self-tanning products to cover up the tan temporarily. Also, it's essential to be gentle with your skin, as harsh or excessive exfoliation can damage it. If you have severe or persistent tanning, consult a dermatologist for professional advice and treatments.

If you need to remove tan from your hands immediately, you'll want to use makeup or cosmetic products for a temporary solution, as natural methods typically take time to show results.

Let’s see How to remove tan from hands immediately. Here's a quick way to remove tan from hands immediately.

Use a Self-Tanner or Bronzer:

Self-tanning products or bronzers can help you achieve an even skin tone on your hands instantly. These products provide a temporary tan that can cover up existing tan lines. You can find self-tanners in various forms, including lotions, sprays, or mousse.

Exfoliate your hands gently to create a smooth canvas for the self-tanner.

Apply the self-tanner evenly to your hands, following the product's instructions.

Blend the product well to ensure there are no streaks or uneven patches.

Allow it to dry completely before putting on clothes or washing your hands.

Use a High-Coverage Foundation or Concealer:

Choose a full-coverage foundation or concealer that matches your skin tone or is slightly lighter if you want to brighten the area.

Apply the foundation or concealer to your hands, focusing on the areas with tan.

Blend it thoroughly for a seamless finish.

Setting Powder:

To ensure the makeup stays in place, lightly dust a setting powder over the concealed areas.

Avoid Sun Exposure:

Once you've covered up the tan, it's essential to avoid sun exposure to prevent further tanning.

Please note that these methods provide temporary solutions for concealing tan lines and do not permanently remove the tan. To address tan lines more permanently, you should follow the natural remedies and preventive measures mentioned in the previous response over a more extended period.

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voidpetrova · 4 months

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reader & rafe at midsummers/cameron family event and getting in trouble for basically fucking right there bc rafe doesn’t care who sees😩😩😩

put on a show — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, softish!bf!rafe, explicit unprotected sex, tit play, spanking, vouyerism, public sex, dirty talk — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: they'd give it all up to spend a second in rafe's shoes, with you on their arm, but some wishes do more harm than good

✧.*

oh, to have it all. to have everything you've ever wanted and so much more. to throw money at any problem in your way, to rely on everyone but yourself in order to have what you want. big villas, expensive champagne, fresh seafood, fast cars, pretty women, and parents who never gave a shit about their kids. that was the life you had dreamed of, and the one you were currently living.

on the ocean course of kiawah island, you seemed like nothing but a dazzling accessory on rafe's arm—pure eye candy, all eyes on you, none of the attention on him. everybody was looking at you. midsummer events were made to live in the moment, to rid yourself of stress in order to feel the wind in your hair and the cool summer breeze on your aching tan lines. unfortunately, they were also made to show off by, not saying, but showing—my cars are faster than yours, my mansion is cleaner, my pockets are heavier, and with you standing with someone like rafe? it was only fair to assume you were just a trophy he could show off.

that wasn't the case. nobody had to know it, it was nobody's business but yours amd rafe's. you were well aware of the reputation your boyfriend had gained, the infamous status he had earned through the consequences of his own actions. you had been aware of it from the moment you met him, but you did something for rafe that no one else had done for him. something that had unintentionally broken down his stone cold walls of confinement he had spent his life building, revealing a treasured part of him that no one got to see, but you. you gave him a chance.

you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to sit through his anger issues, his fits of rage. you'd be lying if you said you haven't ended up in tears, sobbing on the cold floor after an argument, after he had gone off the rails once more, but you never gave up on him. he would leave you in an attempt to seek solace on his own, to calm down. each time he was on his way back, he had expected you to be long gone, but you never were. you would always be there, waiting for him with opens arms.

it softened his heart, knowing that someone was willing to put up with his issues. he couldn't put up with his issues, yet you found a way. you found a way past the misconceptions people had of him—past his jealousy, his need to control and manipulate, his fits of pure aggression that often led to threats and punches. you met him at his worst and stuck it out with him. he was still flawed, slightly more than your average kook, but nothing you couldn't handle.

the sun's radiant rays practically bounced off your skin, illuminating your eyes as you gazed up to look at your boyfriend. he was so fond of the sight of you, eyes soaking in admiration as a smile graced his lips. you were so magnetic to him, so stunning. it was a popular opinion amongst both kooks and pogues, but nobody would have you the way rafe did. “how are you feeling?” you murmured, voice gentle as you gestured toward john b's group yards away from the two of you. rafe was tense, you could feel it even as you held his hand, but he shook his head. “it's not worth it.”

he had all the time in the world to go after the pogues, all he wanted to do right then and there, was to spend some time with you. nothing more nor less to it. although, during every event, there always came a pivotal point where rafe's feelings would get the best of him. he would try his best to stay strong, to refrain from causing anybody harm, but sometimes? he had to do this his way, just to make his point. this was one of those times.

“hot for an ex-pogue, that's what i think,” one voice from behind commented. the unfamiliar face was accompanied by two more unfamiliar faces, who also chimed in. “nah, rafe can't handle allat. she's a knockout.” you were a knockout, that was a common fact. rafe was no longer looking at you; his eyes were glued primarily on the group of guys sitting in the background, his blood boiling as he listened to their shared snickers and comments. you desperately called for his attention.

“rafey, come on,” you held onto his hand, tugging at it ever so gently as you frowned, face drenched in worry. if you weren't able to stop him, who knows what would happen? he was capable of just about anything. “don't do anything to them, it isn't worth it.” for a split second, he glanced back at you, face softening the second he saw how worried you really were.

truth be told, in that moment, rafe felt as if he was the most intelligent kook to ever live. every thought about how long he could beat those guys without security coming, and how fun it would be to peel back their nails for every apology they uttered, went right out the window. you were right, they weren't worth it. not in front of everyone, at least. you were worth it. you were the grand prize men spent drooling over the minute you showed up—the same one women spent sneering at. ever since you had gotten together, it had been nothing but the same condescending comments. it pained him as much as it angered him, knowing everyone wanted what was his.

“you're right,” he replied dryly, and you swore his eyes darkened. it was his turn to hold your hand, pulling gently as he turned on his heel. “come with me, princess.”

more confused than worried, you did as you were told, following his tracks as he pushed past all the eager hands and widening eyes glued to you, his grip tightening with every step. he led you down the halls and helped you down the stairs. as the crowd's laughter died down, you neared a secluded room down the hall. you couldn't figure out what it was, for whom it was, but you didn't bother to question rafe as he forced the door open, ushering you inside.

despite the closed door, there was a wide and tall array of windows—more windows than walls themselves, actually. rafe noticed this, muttering a quiet “fuck,” under his breath before leaning against one of the windows. you frowned, walking towards him as you watched everyone outside, analyzing the tiny selections of unaware bystanders. “rafey, what's wrong?” you whispered, the back of your hand caressing his cheek. “can't stand it anymore, (y/n),” he shook his head. “can't stand the way they all leer at you.”

his jealousy had been an ongoing, consistent problem for him all throughout his life. as a kid, he was jealous of the other kids with better shoes. as a teenager, he was jealous of the ones with loving fathers. during his young adult years, all he's been jealous of was the way people stared with watchful eyes, praying that someday you could be theirs instead of his.

“no one else will ever have me,” you assured him, stroking his hair as he gazed up at you. “not the way you have me. not now, not ever. i can promise you that much.”

he loved knowing, despite it all, that you were his. you were his, despite the stares. despite the ongoing, blood-boiling comments. despite the praises and the compliments and the sheer amount of people submitting to you every day, just for an ounce of attention, you were still his. he couldn't make anyone accept it, but he could definitely make them wish they were dead.

“rafey,” you didn't have time to finish, not a second longer. he stood up, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes fluttered, as if a common reflex, as you kissed him back just as sweetly. the kiss deepened, your mouths melting together as you stepped back, looking for leverage before your back hit the wall. his hands slid up your waist, right up your back as he pushed your arms up against the wall, kiss never coming to a halt.

the air was hot as you moaned quietly against his mouth, put in your place and unable to fight against his grip. he held your arms down with one arm, using the free one to explore every crevice of your body. he traced every curve, hands calloused, cold and rough against the bare, warm skin under your dress. “so perfect for me,” he gasped out, inches away from your mouth as he savored the drool from your lips. he couldn't control himself, rough palm squeezing your barely-clothed tits, thumbing each nipple as he tsked. “almost like you want everyone to stare, yeah?”

you moaned at the sensation, at a complete loss of words. he brought his knee up, sticking it in between your legs. a gasp left your mouth at the feeling of his rough knee, decorated by his dress pants, against your lacy underwear. you couldn't help but rut your hips against his knee, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and mouth open as you chased a friction of any kind. your boyfriend retracted his knee, a smirk playing on his lips as a whine of protest left his lips. “rafey, no—”

“why don't you answer my question first, yeah?” you frowned, eyes glossy as you stared at him. “don't want anyone else to watch, rafey. just you.”

he seemed pleased with your answer, hitching your dress up, the sight of your soaked lacy pink panties causing the strain in his pants to tighten. “i'm so glad to hear that, baby,” he cooed. before you could even smile, you were flipped toward the windows, hands pressed against the glass. “unfortunately, that won't be the case tonight.”

you couldn't even struggle with the position you were in, eyes widening as you realized what he was planning. “you aren't serious, are you?” all you earned at first was a dry laugh in return, but the sound of his pants dropping was enough for you. you caught the sight of him in the mirror, his collared shirt hanging just above his hips, v-line toned and his cock erect in his grey boxers. you swallowed at the sight, failing to catch his smirk. “there a problem, sweetheart?”

his rough hands traced your bare ass, fingers desperately pulling down your panties as he groaned quietly, watching you spread out and bent over for him. a string of slick connected your bare cunt and panties as he slid them down your thighs, and that was enough for him. he slid his own boxers down, sighing as the cool air hit his flushed, painfully hard dick. he brought his palm down against the flesh of your ass, a yelp leaving your mouth as the sting spread across your skin. he couldn't help but laugh.

“careful with those noises, princess,” he nodded toward the window. the one with a picture-perfect view of the inside catastrophe that was unfolding. all it took was for one person to turn around, and a nightmare would come true. “or, don't. let them see and hear how good i fuck you.”

that should have been your warning, because you had absolutely no time to react. not with him pushing into you, his tip squeezing between your tight, wet walls. you gasped, the foreign size intruding sending you into pre-oblivion. “shit, fuck, rafe, 's too big,” you barely croaked out. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy sucking him in raw ready to send him over the edge. he watched the people outside, waiting for someone to finally turn around and get a load of the sight he had especially prepared for them. he wanted them to see past their delusions, realize who you belonged to.

“pussy suckin' me in too good,” he grunted, hands gripping the sweet flesh of your ass as he slowly began to drill your sopping cunt. you moaned at the sudden change, taking in every vein and every inch that fucked into your cervix. “drippin' all over my cock, baby.” his words made you whine, back arching as he watched your cunt engulf his cock whole.

he stared at you wherever he got the chance. his eyes watched the way your back curved for him, the way your ass rippled with every thrust that came your way, the way he'd just look straight and watch your tits jump with every second he spent plowing your cunt. he watched the way your mouth hung open, a string of moans passing your glossy lips. “never gonna get fucked this good,” he growled, and it was a promise. he grabbed a fist full of your hair, twisting and pulling your head back as he leaned in, pressing his lips against your ear. you moaned at the way your scalp tingled, the way he went even deeper, the sound of your pussy squelching accompanying your moans. “let'm know who fucks you this good, princess.”

he didn't have to tell you twice. it was all too overwhelming, anyway. the way he bit your earlobe while pounding your sweet, abused pussy, hitting your sweet spot while his free hand toyed with your tits, twisting and flicking the nipples beforw dropping to your clit, giving generous rubs to your slick, sweet bundle of nerves. “rafe, please, i'm gonna cum,” you moaned, and all he could do was continue, rubbing faster and harder as he continued to pound into you, balls tightening as your cunt gave his dick a sweet, hard squeeze.

he grunted, and looked up and through the window. he watched carefully, eyes scanning the lawn before stopping once the gaze had been returned. he stopped, a devious smirk playing on his face the minute he realized who was staring. the guy from earlier, the one who was so eager to get any kind of reaction from you. he stood there, alongside one of his friends, jaw hanging and eyes wide in pure shock. he gestured with his eyes toward your face, making sure he watched the way your face scrunched up in pure pleasure as he continued to fuck your pussy open. he made sure all of it was seen.

“right behind you, princess.”

#outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #obx smut #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader smut

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onsomenewsht · 3 months

Text

now playing: Don't Tell My Mom

< track 3 || track 5 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader (past), María León x Reader (platonic), Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic)

》 words count: +1.5k

》 what you don't know won't hurt you, oh / Mama, I'll lie, just for you

As soon as your phone lights up with a Facetime call, you know.

No warning message, no text just to make sure you’re free to talk. A cold Facetime request from María, one of your best friends but definitely someone who means trouble if calling like that.

Launching yourself on your sofa unceremoniously, you accept the call and your fate as Mapi’s grin appears on your broken screen. How can she be so smug even miles away goes beyond you.

“Who died?”

Not the most warm way to start a conversation.

“Hola a ti también, nena” (Hello to you too)

“You look awful”

She looks amazing, she’s practically glowing and you’re happy for her.

Also, you’re happy for yourself too. It’s a relief this is not the scolding call you’ve been waiting for quite some time. It’s coming, you can feel it, but Ingrid enters the frame and you immediately know this is good news.

“Tienes que ser buena conmigo” (You should be nicer to me)

Mapi really isn’t the type to tiptoe around something so you don’t get why she didn’t start this conversation by screaming the news. Or making the journey and knocking on your door directly.

You let her be, she probably wants to enjoy it.

“Why should I? I moved to another country just to avoid it”

“Nena”, she pauses and her smile dims for a moment.

She knows English better than she lets everyone believe, so she gets the quip - or your attempt to joke about it. You’re not sure if it’s because of what you said or something else entirely, the two of you have yet to talk about the reason why you’re single and in another country.

Your transfer was eventful, to say at least. The faded blonde didn’t handle it very well, having taken you under her wing when you first moved from a mid-table club in your home country to Barcelona Femení - after a couple of years on a loan in different leagues too.

María’s the one who welcomed you in the locker room with rapid words and contagious enthusiasm. She kept talking with you in Spanish, even if you needed an entire year to be able to hold a simple conversation in your third language, but she’s someone you relied on since the very beginning.

María’s also the first one to realise something was growing between you and Alexia, the first - and the loudest - to cheer when you mindlessly kissed in front of the team mid night out, the first one to give you both a shovel talk.

Sometimes it’s way too easy to forget how many people you can hurt with a decision that’s just your own to make.

You feel the need to take the conversation back on track.

“When is the wedding?”

“¿Quién te lo dijo?!” (Who told you?!)

“Your stupid face”, thankfully the Spaniard gets her brightness back at your words, “And I can see that huge rock even from here!”

Ingrid is matching a beaming smile, moving her hand closer to the camera and you can’t hold back your own joy. They truly deserve the devotion and support they share with one another. If you have to be happy for someone else’s love, you’re glad it’s for them.

And that ring is impressive.

The memory of a beautiful ring hidden in a shoe box in the back of a closet makes you shiver. Is it still there or she got rid of it as first thing after dropping you off at the airport? Does Mapi know about it?

“Show off, that’s worth my value”

“Tonterías!, no eres tan buena” (Bullshit, you’re not even that good!)

“You are, she’s just too proud to admit it”, at Ingrid’s first words you immediately remember why lately she’s the one you like the most of the two.

“Haz la maleta y no quiero excusas, volverás aquí” (Pack you beg and no excuses, you’re coming back here)

Mapi’s witty remark is not missed, she saw you growing up and developing your very own unhealthy coping mechanism. Maybe you have a tendency to avoid confrontation, what about that? She goes for any adrenalin rush activity available when in denial so she’s not in the position to judge.

You shift uncomfortably under their gazes, sitting upright but hitting the back of the sofa with your head.

You may be in a different country and there may be a screen between you and the pair, but María is still like a big sister to you and the other girl is basically the only reason you’re still sane and survived throughout your friendship with the Spaniard.

However, you can’t let them know how broken you are, not when you regret nothing that led to this.

“Why not Norway?”, worth a shot.

“We’re basically going to celebrate in any corner of the world, I don’t think you can miss this”

“Then I can be anywhere else, Ingrid”

“Mapi’s family is gonna be here”, and you’re her family too it’s what she’s too considerate to say aloud but you all hear anyway.

“I don’t think is a good idea, no one want me there”

“That’s not true”

“Nena, por favor!”

The silence is deafening, when you find the gut to look at your friends it’s easy to remember the love, the support, and respect that bond your relationships.

A transfer to another country, all the attempts to hide from the consequences of your own choices, the hearts broken. None of those things are really able to cut those kinds of connections.

“I’m happy for you two”, you say with the biggest and most sincere smile in a while.

Mapi accepts your decision to keep the conversation light, focusing on this happy and long awaited news.

She’s glowing and you really are happy for her, for them. The desire to celebrate their love, to be there when they will share such pure joy with all the people they care about, sweeps away your fears of being confronted by the human form of the consequences of your own choices.

When the call ends, the usual weight you feel between your ribs doesn’t make your breathing heavier and the familiar bitter taste of guilt doesn’t pervade your mouth.

You book a ticket to Barcelona before it all comes back to you.

“Mapi and Ingrid are getting married”

“It’s a plague!”

Leah is unlacing her boots, the two of you the last ones in the changing room after an additional training session the blonde insisted you needed.

You’re playing in a slightly different position here, but you feel like those extra hours are more for her sake than your own, scared that you will find a way to avoid your new teammates if not involved in any possible activity.

You indulge her, you’re used to demanding and perfectionist captains after all.

“I have to go back to Barcelona”

“I bet, she’s gonna drag you there personally otherwise”

“María is not that―”

“I’m talking about Engen”, she smirks and she is right, Ingrid is way more effective in her convincing methods.

Still sitting on the bench in your training gear, you let her understand you’re not ready to leave yet. Not the room nor the conversation.

“What’s the problem, trotter?”

She managed to give you the worst nickname possible, making fun both of your way to run on the pitch and the fact you spent the past ten years in five different countries - it’s probably also a quip about the circumstances that bring you here but you give her the benefit of the doubt.

“No problem at all, I’m happy for them”

“They’re really cute”

“They are”, you miss them.

You miss the familiar embrace and the easy banter you share with María, you miss the warm support and the nights out with Ingrid, you miss the silence and the comforting methods Keira always found to take your homesickness away, you miss the funny and the cheerful attitude you wrap yourself around with Jana, Claudia and Ona. You miss them all.

You miss Alexia.

You miss how she always finds time to walk her dog out, doesn’t matter the weather or her busy schedule. You miss the subtle way she turns the radio’ volume up when a song she knows you like is on, and the not-so-subtle way she pretends to hate them all just to sing with you on the first chorus. You miss her body fitting perfectly all over your life, when moving in your house like it’s built around her, or when she’s ideally positioned on the pitch to receive your pass, or even when her hands find yours despite everything and everywhere you are.

You miss Alexia but you don’t deserve to grieve something you killed yourself.

“Do you need a pep talk from Kim?”

“Don’t you dare!”

Last time Leah called on your team captain to put up with your somber mood, you ended on the bench for two games yet sent her a nice bouquet as an apology - and as a thanks for the help.

“Look, you can’t hide from her forever”

“I can definitely try”

The smile she directs to you is both amused and bushed.

“I just don’t think our closest friend’s wedding is the best occasion to meet her for the first time after… well, after everything”, you admit while repeatedly hitting the changing room’s wall with the back of your head.

“Maybe not, maybe we will have to face them in the next Champion League’s draw”

She jinxed it.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #ap11 #leah williamson x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon x ingrid engen #here we go again #my wo(rd)so #dont know how to fell about this #let me know if you hate or love me #as always #please forgive my english and my spanish #Spotify

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muchosbesitos · 5 months

Text

what happens in vegas

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: unplanned marriage, smut, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected p in v, nipple play, miguel reassuring reader, biting

author’s note: i know i said i was gonna do requests but i got this idea and i felt like i rly needed to execute it 😭

word count: 4.7K

"Let's get married!"

You and Miguel had taken a trip to Las Vegas after he got a job promotion at Alchemax, wanting to commemorate the occasion. While the two of you weren't too necessarily invested in gambling, you both figured that losing your money in Las Vegas would make you guys learn the rules of the game fairly quickly. Miguel was able to retain the information with much more ease, making a profit of a hundred bucks at the end of the night.

After a couple rounds of blackjack had passed by, you turned to look at Miguel with a small pout on your face. "Can we go to the bar?" You asked him, still reeling from your previous loss. He turned to look at you, pressing a small kiss on the corner of your lips as a way to get rid of the pout. "I thought you were so excited to try out blackjack," He whispered, getting up from the stool regardless. "Yeah but I thought it'd be easier to learn," you responded, following after him to the bar. He compensated for the fifty bucks that you'd lost tonight, telling you that you were doing good for your first time each time that you fumed to yourself.

He motioned for the bartender to come over with one movement of his finger, heart-eyes practically replacing her pupils as she approached the two of you. You wrapped your arm around Miguel’s instinctively, holding him close to you as you shot the bartender a small smile. Miguel didn't say anything about the small act, simply ordering the two of you shots of tequila. "Tan bonita que te ves cuando estas toda celosa," he teased you, his hand coming down to your thigh as he gently squeezed the flesh. (you look so pretty when you’re all jealous) "But you have nothing to be jealous about. You're the only one I want," he added, his minty breath ghosting on your skin as he leaned into whisper in your ear.

You clenched your thighs together and thanked the bartender for your shot, gulping it down in one take. "Alright, let's try to keep ourselves under control this time. Last time we drank together, we ended up on a yacht to Miami," you spoke up after he gulped down his shot, his lips curling into an amused smirk. "It was a nice yacht to be fair. Very accessible places if you don't recall," he responded, motioning for the bartender to come refill the cups. Luckily for the both of you, the bar wasn't too full so you were able to get quick service. "Let's just get three drinks. Safe number I'd say," you said after a couple seconds, extending your hand out towards Miguel. "Might as well make it five, y'know? End on a nice clean number."

The two of you did not in fact stop at five shots, both of you laughing as you asked the bartender for more and more shots throughout the course of the night. After taking a few too many shots, you decided you wanted to do something reckless and stupid as a way to end the night which is how you came to essentially asking him to marry you. "You sure you wanna get married in Vegas, nena? Wanna get you a pretty dress like you deserve," he told you, slightly slurring on his words as the two of you waited for a cab outside. "I don't want a big wedding, I just wanna be with you," you told him, your words coming out slurred as well. He tapped on his chin, seemingly pretending to be lost thought before shrugging. "Let's get married in Vegas!"

The two of you ended up at a small drive-in wedding chapel near the hotel room, the taxi driver struggling to navigate with the directions that you were giving him. "What's the whole legality of this place? Is the Elvis lookalike at the front even qualified for this?" Miguel mused, always the smartass even when he was under the influence. "It's really easy to get ordained so I'm sure it's all legal," you responded, grabbing hold of his hand and leading him inside the chapel. The inside looked more like a commercial for another casino, bright neon signs of poker chips hanging on the walls. "It's just going to be you two?" You heard behind you, a woman standing at the front desk asking.

"Yeah, it's just us two. We wanna get married!" You told her, clasping your hands together as you turn to look at her. "Why else would you be at a chapel then?" The woman muttered to herself, grabbing a document from one of her folders before placing it on the desk facing you. "I'm gonna need the two of you to sign this. It's essentially your form of a marriage certificate, the two of you could share your own vows and whatnot. It is a legally binding agreement so make sure the two of you consider this carefully before the two of you sign," she spoke to the both of you, leaving the room so you two could come to a concrete decision. Despite the fact that you would probably end up regretting doing it this way when you were sober, you didn't have any objections at the moment.

"I don't feel like backing out, do you?" You asked Miguel, grabbing a pen from the side and scribbling your name on the line to the best of your ability. "I don't feel like backing out either," he replied, grabbing a pen of his own and doing the same thing as you. While the two of you looked at the paper, the signatures that the two of you made seemed to be prettiest in the moment. In reality, the two of you had completely slanted the words of your name and signed two inches below the line but luckily enough, the lady didn't exactly feel like arguing too much. She led Miguel out of the room, explaining to him on the way that she was taking him somewhere where he could rent a tux for the night.

The lady came back when the two of you had changed into your proper attire, carrying a small box of plastic rings. "Since I'm guessing the two of you don't have rings, feel free to pick one out," she told you, your attention immediately drawn to the one with a plastic diamond in the middle. Even though you knew that it wouldn't sparkle the same way a real one did, your eagerness to get married in the moment overpowered anything else. Miguel picked out a simple silver band, the material stretching out a little as he tried it on. He extended his arm out to you, your hand wrapping around it as he led you two where the Elvis lookalike priest was waiting.

The other couples that were there served as the perfect spectators, staying quiet as the two of you tumbled and laughed your way to the front of the church. "Alright alright, tonight we're here for the union of these two lovely people," the priest started off, his voice sounding forced as he tried to get the same Elvis twang. The ceremony went on without a hitch, despite the fact that your wedding vows had been improvised on the spot. Everyone there stayed quiet as the two of you simply stated how much you swore to love each other, how much you two honored this marriage. "By the power vested in me by lasvegasfreemarriagelicense.com, I now pronounce you two husband and wife!" The priest announced, your arms wrapping around Miguel’s neck once he approached you.

He pushed the veil away from your face, a couple of tears glossing his eyes threatening to break through his rough exterior before he leaned in. He pressed his lips against yours, dipping you down to give the other people in there a show. Scattered claps came out as a result, the two of you too eager in the newfound union to really pay any mind to anyone except each other. Miguel completely forgot that the outfits you two had on were simply for rent, leading you to the hotel down the street. You'd walked in with every intention to celebrate your wedding night with him, but as soon as you got onto his lap, you ended up falling asleep with the warmth that his body provided.

Your body felt like you'd just been ran over by an 18 wheeler, your head pounding as you opened your eyes to adjust to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. You wiped away at your eyes, the events from last night coming out in brief appearances, but the more that you tried to think about it, the more that your head ended up hurting. You turned over to see Miguel dressed up in a black tux, the material wrinkled from all the tossing and turning he'd been doing the previous night. You recalled getting married but you had dismissed it as one of your dreams. You shook him awake, his lips smacking against one another as he sat up.

"Is there any reason why you're waking me up this early? Especially after a night out," he grumbled, rubbing his eyes while his hair stuck out from every direction. "Did we get married last night or was that all just a part of my twisted dream?" You asked him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to look at you. "Well, you're in a wedding dress so I'm gonna have to say it's the first one," he responded, leaning back on the bed as he turned away from the sunlight. "Oh, this is a disaster!" you exclaimed, looking over at Miguel to expect him having the same sentiment that you did. He looked eerily calm about the situation, like he was actually content about the events that had taken place.

"Why is it a disaster? I mean, it's not the most ideal way to get married but I think that's taking it too far," he told you, your eyes widening slightly as you got up from the bed. "No, no! We need to get a divorce now," you exclaimed, watching as he stood up from the bed to stand in front of you. He placed his hands on your shoulders as he looked down at you, letting out a small sigh. "Why is it that you want a divorce?" He asked you, his tone sounding gentle as a way to calm you down. It wasn't supposed to go this way, you were usually the one that had to calm him down. "Well, I don't know. What if you get tired of me and you end up not liking me? Or what if you end up resenting me because of this marriage? Or like, you could still want to be with someone better."

Miguel kept his gaze on yours, his thumb coming down to your chin as he forced you to look up at him. "Ay mujer, we could be on our death bed and you'd still be convinced i could find someone else. I don't know how many times I need to tell you but I'll tell you as many times as you need to hear it, I don't want anyone else other than you," he told you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest with how fast it was racing. "Look, I'll go get us some breakfast and we'll talk it over then. Go take a shower and let yourself calm down for a second before we jump to things like getting a divorce," he added, waiting for you to nod before leaving the room.

You got out of the shower to see a plate with chicken soup on it, your favorite flavor of Gatorade by the side of it. "How about we do this? I'll give you a three month period, just to test out the marriage. If you don't like it, then we get divorced. If you do end up liking the idea of us being married, then we can renew our vows and have a proper ceremony. How does that sound?" He asked you, taking a sip from his own soup. "That sounds manageable. Okay, we can do that," you responded, taking small sips of the soup so you wouldn't hurt your stomach too badly. After the two of you were finished eating, you settled down onto his lap and pressed your lips against his neck. "We didn't get to celebrate our wedding night the way we deserved, Mr. O’Hara," you told him, your voice sounding like pure sin to his ears. "We should change that, Mrs. O’Hara."

He led you to the top of the bed, laying you down slowly as his body hovered on top of yours. He took a moment to take you in, how the light coming from the curtains accentuated your every feature. He leaned in, pressing a small kiss to your forehead and moving on to your cheeks. "You’re so breathtaking Mrs. O’Hara," he whispered, his mouth coming to yours as he kissed you with such an intensity you'd never faced before. For someone that had a lot of doubts about the marriage at first, you didn't mind the sound of being called Mrs. O’Hara. in fact, hearing him say it with such pride had you clenching your thighs together.

Your tongue danced with his in what seemed to a synchronized tango, the two of you treating each other with as much love and affection that your bodies could exude at the moment. His hands toyed with the hem of your towel, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh. You brought your hands up to his face when you two pulled away from the kiss, pressing your lips against the tip of his nose. "There's no need for you to give me that three month period. I overreacted, I want to be your wife," you told him, coming to the realization that you’d just been spiraling. His lips connected themselves to your mouth once more, a smile on his face as he did.

He undid your towel after you gave him a curt nod, tossing it off to the side. he pressed his lips to the side of your neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses on the surface. You moved your neck to give him more access, offering what you could of your body so he could take. his hand moved downward, cupping your breast in his grasp. His fingers rolled around the nipples, pinching and tugging them the way that would have them hardening underneath his grasp. He bit down on your neck, his tongue running over the affected skin to soothe the sting a bit. His mouth moved down to your other breast, engulfing it and treating it the same as the other one.

You brought your hand down to his hair, grasping at the strands as his teeth gently tugged on your nipples. The buds started to erect with every swipe and lick that he took at them, his eyes locking on yours with every movement that he took. Your mouth slightly parted, your breathing starting to grow a little heavier as he stimulated your nipples. He pulled away, leaving a small kiss on the top of your breasts before pressing his lips against your stomach. He trailed kisses all the way down to your cunt, stopping where he knew that you needed him most. His lips moved to your inner thighs, pressing kisses against the delicate flesh. He bit into your right thigh, his fangs leaving their indenture when he pulled away from you.

His mouth eventually did make itself to your cunt, his tongue swiping across your folds to collect the slick that had accumulated. You closed your thighs around his head instinctively, watching as he looked up at you while licking a stripe up your pussy. "Always did taste so good for me, could spend hours buried in this pussy," he spoke up, his tongue going inside your hole after he finished with what he had to say. Your hands made their way to his hair, your fingers gently stroking his hair as he started to push his tongue in and out of you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head when your slick coated his tongue, often taking more pleasure in this than you. "Oh fuck, right there," you moaned out, your voice sounding needy as you felt his tongue hit that one spot inside of you.

You felt the bed moving with every lick that he took, your eyes drifting downwards to see that Miguel was thrusting his hips into the mattress with every lick and swipe that he took. He'd told you before that he could get off on just tasting you, on seeing the way that you reacted to him but you'd never quite understood the extent of his words until now. He pulled away, licking at the slick coating his lips and chin before moving his mouth down to your clit. His fingers took place of his mouth, two of them already filling you up to the brim as he stretched out to his liking. His fingers curled as his tongue circled around your clit, your hips practically grinding against his face to get the friction that you needed.

"That's right baby, use me however you want to. I’m yours to use however you want to," he told you, the vibrations from his voice providing your clit with extra stimulation. You began writhing underneath his grasp, tugging at the bedsheets and at his hair as you felt yourself approaching your orgasm. You weren't sure where to tug at, how to express your need and desire to cum, but you didn't have to. Miguel could read your body almost better than you could at times, his movements remaining the same as he worked you through your orgasm. "That's good, you're doing so good for me mama. Just come when you're ready," he told you, the last vibration on your clit had you gripping his hair while your release coated his tongue.

You looked down to see him licking the slick with a blissed out look on his face, the release shining as the sunlight hit his face. You got up from the bed, pushing him to the edge as you got on your knees. You were eager to please him after seeing how much he seemed to be affected by just eating out, his cock straining against the thin material of his boxers when you tugged his pants down. You traced the outline of his cock, hearing Miguel take a sharp intake of breath. Your palm gently pressed against his cock, watching as he began to unravel for you. "Please stop teasing me, mi amor. Need to feel your mouth wrapped around me."

You took off his boxers, your lips pressing against his thighs the same way that he'd done to yours. You gently bit down, your teeth leaving their print on the same thigh that he'd left his in. Your lips gently ghosted at the tip of his cock, stopping yourself for only a couple seconds just to see the sheer desperation cross over his features. His brows were furrowed as he looked down at you, his pupils blown as he waited for you to started. You pressed a small kiss on the tip, giving it a small kitten lick. At the small motion, his cock already began to twitch underneath your grasp. Your tongue began to trace the veins of his cock, his hand coming to the back of your neck as his mouth slightly parted.

You'd seen Miguel in a number of positions and situations, but you always thought he looked the prettiest when he was like this. All needy and desperate for your touch. Your hands gripped his thighs as you took the tip of his cock in your mouth, your tongue swirling around it. "Oh shock," you heard from the man above you, a sense of pride at how much you affected him coursing through your veins. You took more of his cock in your mouth, trying not to trigger your gag reflex so early on. You began to push your head up and down as your cheeks hollowed, more of his cock being able to fit in your mouth. Small groans and moans came out from miguel, the sounds filling up the room along with your slurping.

You spat onto his cock, the messiness only becoming more appealing to Miguel as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. He watched the fake diamond of the ring reflect the sunlight with every stroke you took, getting distracted when your hands came down to his balls. His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the sensation of your tongue and hands working in tandem to provide him with every sensation he desired. You pushed his cock deeper into your throat, ignoring the tears threatening to come out before pulling away with a 'pop.' Your hands tugged at his balls, massaging them in your grasp as you stuffed your mouth full of his dick.

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth a couple seconds later, a telltale sign that he was approaching his orgasm. "Shock, I'm so close. Keep going, mama. Make me cum," he groaned, his head moving back while you kept stimulating him. You continued with the same intensity from earlier, his cock shooting ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away from his cock once every drop of cum had landed on your mouth, swallowing the substance. He extended his hand out to you, helping you up from the floor before dipping his head down to meet yours in a kiss. You could still taste your previous release in his mouth, the combined taste of both of you making your head fuzzy.

He led you to the bed once more, setting you down on your back as his cock ran through your folds. "I'm gonna keep showing you how much I love you. Every day. Until you get it stuck in that little head of yours that there is nobody else other than you for me," he told you, pushing his cock into you in a swift motion. The response you were planning to give him died in your throat, getting replaced by a small gasp when you felt your walls engulf his cock to the best of their ability. Your walls fluttered around his cock while your cunt got used to the intrusion, no matter how many times the two of you had sex, it was always a bit of a stretch at the beginning. He held your hand while he waited for the sting between your legs to subside, kissing your temple.

"You always take me so well, you know that? Don't know why you think I want someone else when you take me so well," he whispered, kissing your cheek before retracting his cock when you gave him the okay. He pushed his cock in once more, the length and thickness of his cock filling you up to the brim. Miguel kept his eyes locked on your face, to gauge for any reactions of discomfort or pain before pulling away again. He started off slow, his thrusts slow and deep as he got you to ease up around him. "That's it, that's my girl. Pussy's practically gripping my cock," he told you, his voice coming out slightly breathless as he pushed his cock inside of you once more.

Once he saw that you were more receptive to the movements that he was making, he started moving his hips faster inside of you, his heavy balls slapped against the back of your thighs with every thrust that he took. His hands came underneath your legs before he placed them onto his shoulders. The new angle felt like his cock was drilling into your cunt, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix every time that he moved. Your hands came down to his arms, slightly clawing at them as your mouth parted. The entire hotel room screamed sex as moans escaped from the two of you and as your fluids mixed together in the bedsheets. Even with the lewdness of the scene, the entire action between the two of you was nothing less than a display of love.

You'd had sex with Miguel where it was a rush to take each other's clothes off, teeth nipping at each other as your mouths collided together, but this was everything that those times weren't. This time was slow and sensual, his main focus being to prove to you the amount of love that he shared for you. You felt it with every thrust that he took inside of you, his touch and love imprinting into your skin with every second that passed. You gripped his arms as a form of keeping yourself grounded, your back slightly arching from the bed as he started to speed up the intensity of the thrusts. He brought his head down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. While you loved to have sex with him, it was the little fleeting moments of intimacy that had you giggling when you recalled the events at a later time.

Your walls clenched around his cock like a vice, engulfing him even deeper with every push of his hips. Even with the sweat that was starting to drip down from Miguel’s forehead, you couldn't help but think about how breathtaking he looked. He looked so heavenly as he focused on your pleasure, the sun kissing his tan skin in the perfect way. "Keep going, I'm almost there," you moaned as you felt his thumb touch your clit, the sudden touch making sparks run down your body. Your legs began to tremble as you got closer to your orgasm, the coil building up inside you threatening to snap with every thrust that he took. "That's it, you're doing so good," Miguel whispered, talking you through your impending orgasm.

Your release coated his cock completely as you came, the slick giving him easier access into your cunt as he chased his own orgasm. Your back slumped back against the bed as you started to come down from the high, watching the determined look on Miguel’s face as he worked through his own orgasm. He let out a groan as his head lolled forward, ropes of cum shooting inside of you. With his cock still of you, he leaned in and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "You always do such a good job, y'know? Truly an outstanding performance," he mused, pulling his cock out gently so as to not hurt you during the process. "Wasn't aware I was getting graded," you mumbled, looking over at him as he grabbed some towels from a dresser nearby.

He ended up taking you to the jacuzzi room downstairs, letting the jets cool down the coils that'd built up in your legs. He held you in between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist while his head dipped down to your neck. He gently pressed some kisses there, his hands gently scratching on your back as the warm water filled you with a feeling of relaxation. "I'm sorry for overreacting about the wedding, I know that the circumstances aren't exactly ideal but I wouldn't change anything about being your wife," you spoke up after a while, his mouth moving to your shoulder. "I know Mrs. O’Hara. Trust me, I know," he whispered, his voice laced with pure affection.

Despite the fact that you told Miguel that you wouldn't be needing the three month trial period, he still asked you at the end of it if you wanted to get divorced. After hearing you say no, the two of you began to arrange a small ceremony solely for your family and friends to renew your vows. While the situation wasn't something ideal at first, it provided you both with the type of comedy material that had everyone laughing when you told the story at parties. You loved to see the way that Mayday clapped her little hands as you told her the story at a Christmas party once like she understood, Miguel’s hands all over you when the two of you got home that night. "How would you feel about starting a family in Vegas?"

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shoyostar · 5 months

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MARY ANN.

── HAJIME IWAIZUMI ┊ HAIKYUU!!

“Ginger or Mary Ann?” A common question referring to the old American sitcom from the 1960’s “Gilligan’s Island” that essentially asked what type of girl you were into.

content. childhood friend!iwaizumi / f!reader. fluff. cali!iwa. longterm pining. vv short. LDR (kind of?).

haikyuu!! masterlist.

❥ love letter from vie. i shit this out last night and i can’t bring myself to make it into a full oneshot rn so i just refined it a little . . .

Culture shock is a funny thing.

Iwaizumi has no idea what his California classmates mean one day when they walk up to him after his lecture — new to the country and knowing only the bare basics of english when they ask him;

“Ginger or Mary Ann?”

Not knowing the implications of their question he shrugs unsurely, “Ginger” he says, thinking of the warm spice he uses when cooking meals, reminding him of his home back in Japan.

They click their tongues, patting him on the back and jeer about how he has good taste and invite him out to a bar that weekend. And Iwaizumi — still as unsure as before, accepts.

It’s now been a few years overseas. Iwaizumi is on his way to finishing his degree in Sports Science, eager to finally be rid of university and all the gripes that comes with it.

California took some time to get used to, it’s a lot more different than Japan in every way possible, only amplified by the reverse culture-shock that occurs whenever he visits Japan again for school breaks.

When he is reminded of you.

Standing at the airport, waving him over with a sign in his native tongue his feet move just a little faster than before, tired eyes lighting up as his carry on bag’s wheels drag on the floor and skid to halt when he reaches you.

Big, strong and tanned arms envelope you in a hug, Iwaizumi smells of hot sand and sea water always when he comes to visit, you’ve only learned to grow more fond of the scent each time you greet him.

You always make sure to visit the same areas you and Iwaizumi used to hang around at when you were little — as if Iwaizumi will never come back to Japan again. “For old times sake,” you say, even if Iwaizumi has told you he’s already planning to come back when summer hits because California summers are harsh.

Watching you wade around in that old creek searching for salamanders like you always do when he flies over brings Iwaizumi back to a simpler time in his life, and he is again reminded of that one question from several years prior by his friends.

“Ginger or Mary Ann?”

It took some getting used to, but Iwaizumi soon learned from his American friends, the ones he made by accepting their bar invite, what that peculiar question meant. Originating from an old sitcom, containing the names of two characters in the show — each displaying a different character archetype.

He’s even watched a couple of reruns of the show with them, where it was then they had told him it was the equivalent of asking what kind of girls he was into, and that his initial response, “Ginger,” did not mean of the spice but instead that he was into a more sophisticated type of woman.

Glamourous even, they’d say.

But after every school break, when Iwaizumi is forced to endure another 12 hour long flight back to California and back into the little pocket of sun and heatwaves, his friends ask him again with knowing smirks, “Ginger or Mary Ann?”

It’s a running joke at this point with their friendgroup, since Iwaizumi had no idea of it’s meaning the first time they always bring it up in conversation, cackling at how red he turns with embarrassment before the next topic is brought up.

But their little tease ignites something in Iwaizumi.

He thinks back to you, all the way in Japan, who is probably still going to that same old family run convenience store the two of you have been raiding of their snack stock since you were seven.

Thinking about how you probably still take that old shortcut behind the forest he found when he was eight to make it to the bus on time for work.

How you’ve always lived two doors down from him before he flew to California, always coming home from his house late into the night because you two were trying to catch fireflies during late spring in your teenage years, hoping to jar a few as a night light while camping out in his backyard.

Iwaizumi asks the same question thats been brought up several times before, once as genuine curiousity and others as just a tease.

Ginger, or Mary Ann?

And despite telling his American friends “Ginger” the first time they met, every subsequent question, jeer and laugh has been met with the same new response without fail.

“Mary Ann.”

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

#im not american btw so #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu drabbles #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #( 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑒𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝑜𝒻 : 𐚁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒞𝓁𝓊𝒷 )

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xoxoladyaz · 11 months

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You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops).

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband –

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and –

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute –

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and –

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD –

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ”

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT -

“I missed you too, Eds.”

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room.

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!”

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve.

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?”

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could –

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation.

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.)

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum

#it's me I'm the girl who fainted and broke her nose at work #I told the doctor hey at least I've finally broken a bone and he said it didn't count #which is honestly super rude so fuck you doctor jones #anyways #steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie fic #paramedic Steve harrington #rock star Eddie munson #yes Eddie knows my fair lady #Steve forgetting both Superman and Gollum #trigger warning: brenda #also I took a weed hard candy while I wrote this so if the grammar is weird whoopsie I'll fix it later #Chris Hemsworth is for the lesbians

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fanaticsnail · 5 months

Note

Mitski - My love mine all mine

Comfort fic with Mihawk?

Pretty plz oh my sister of mine

(Add smut if you must-but you’re really pulling my arm)

Comfort fic, you say? You get some angst too, sis.

Masterlist here.

Word Count: 1,178

Warnings: angst, longing, fluff, sleeping, embracing (no smut)

Song Suggestion: Mitsuki - My Love Mine all Mine.

Nothing in the world belongs to me // But my love mine, all mine // Nothing in the world is mine for free // But my love mine, all mine, all mine

The halls in the great castle had naught a sound resounding in the chasms. The polished cobblestone lay bare and cold, the warm light of the crystalline chandelier reflecting its small flames atop the surfaces. The darkness from nightfall glistened starlight through the stained glass windows; the moon cascading it’s crescent shape on one of the many portraits that hung high and out of sight within the room.

He had been gone for two weeks, his presence not gracing the ornate floorboards with his silhouette for nine days longer than he promised. He thought the contract would be over swiftly, the great blade Yoru able to cut through anything with one fell, booming swipe. His cloak was dishevelled, his cross was laying slightly askew atop his bare chest. The large, fluffed, white feather in his broad hat was slightly singed around the edges, tanning under the scorch marks to tint it a smoked yellow. It did not go at all according to his plan: get in, get it done, get it over with, and get back to you.

The individual he was stalking had managed to raise an army, something the world government did not anticipate him having such sway nor ability to execute. He was to be brought in alive for questioning, his bounty nullified should he perish below a blade. Dracule Mihawk was tasked with not only capturing this person alive, but also ridding the amassment of pirates that had so readily come to his defence. It took him nine days of combat; never resting, always pushing to get to his target. He was exhausted, his energy resources depleted completely.

As he stalked slowly along the grounds, his staff would turn and halt their movements and chores; offering a swift stoop at acknowledgement of his presence. Mihawk’s shoulders were slumped, hunching down from his great posture as he reached your shared bedroom. Turning the circular handle, he lifted the small latch from its brace against the door and slowly allowed the hall light to break through the darkness.

Atop his large four-poster bed lay his love, his hidden treasure known only to his staff and a handful of others he trusted enough with his secret. His eyes softened, leaning his towering form against the post of the doorframe slightly to take you in. Allowing a soft smile to rise to the corner of his lips, he raked his amber-eyes over you to take in your sleeping form.

You lay in a white silken bed-robe, the fabric of the many layers pooling at your wrists in their lengthy decline. Laying on your side, facing the door, your hair lay gracefully cascading atop his pillowcase. Your right leg bent at the knee, the duvet laying beneath it as to mimic your embrace with your lover; as you would most commonly be cradled against the chest of the warlord as you both slept soundly. Your hand was clutching a single red rose, laying wilting and dried over the mattress alongside his promise to return to you before the cut, thorny rose should ever require water. A single petal fell to the floor as you took a deep breath to indicate your slumber had become interrupted.

Mihawk quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the softest click of the latch could be heard as he attempted to silence his decent. He took his hat off, placing it on the desk beside his armchair, alongside removing Yoru and laying the great blade on it’s wooden, decorative resting hilt. He sighed in relief as the weight had been removed from his shoulders, rotating them to remind his muscles how to behave without harnessing such a weapon. Slowly, he drew his arms out of his cloak, wincing as his biceps contracted beneath the material.

He had overexerted himself, went too hard for too long; something you would chastise him for, he’s sure of it. Placing the cloak on the back of his armchair, he removed his boots and socks from his feet and slotted them beneath the bed. His fingers halted their retract as you let a slow, sleepy moan fall from your lips. Your brows began to furrow as your lucidity continued to propel you within haunted dreams of your love’s demise. Mihawk hastily unclasped the buckle on his belt, pulling in one swift movement to rid it from its place within his pants and tucked the object in one of his boots.

Kneeling his right knee on the bed, he began a stumbled and exhausted crawl to fall his body next to your own. He laced his left arm beneath your right and flattened his forehead against your chest, listening to the slow, rhythmic thump of your heartbeat. The remainder of petals fell to rest atop his curled, darkened locks as he closed his honey-coloured eyes tightly shut. He lifted his right arm to rest over your manubrium, focussing more on his concentration listening to the rhythm of your heartbeat and the rise and fall of your breathing.

In your subconsciousness, you drew down your right hand and laced it within Mihawk’s hair; body completing this soft and gentle embrace from muscle memory alone. The furrow in your brows completely fell from your face and softened in your slumber once more. Mihawk smiled into your embrace, relishing being in the arms of his hidden love once again – albeit nine days late.

He hoped you did not hold such tardiness against him, tracing low circles atop the small of your back before drawing his hand down to clutch the back of your right thigh to hook your knee over the bottom of his ribcage. Sighing into the embrace, he felt your body completely relax into him with a sigh of his own to follow in reaction. The two of you feeling the weight of the absence fleeing from your bodies in this gentle embrace, falling from you in waves of bittersweet reunification.

The gentle light of the crescent moon continued to follow into the room, its light illuminating your embrace through the small partition within the heavy charcoal curtains. Mihawk reopened his yellow eyes, tilting his head up and removing his hand from your chest in favour of brushing a single strand away from your face. Your lips were parted, eyelashes forming a small shadow atop the apples of your cheeks under the light of the moon. Mihawk felt his heart swell knowing you were safe in his castle, slumbering soundly while remaining hidden away from the world government.

Finally having something that was truly his own, not an ability to be used for exploit, nor his vast array of wealth in riches and land. You were his, something that was only for him.

“Sleep now, my love,” he sighed, pressing a lingering kiss against your throat with his eyelashes flickering against the bare skin as he leant in to your embrace. He withdrew his soft touch and whispered against your flesh: “May you forgive me when you wake. I love you, may you continue to be mine. Only mine.”

#one piece #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #mihawk #Mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #fic request #moots #opla mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader

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inmyicyworld · 9 months

Text

Wakanda

pt. 2

Summary: You visit Bucky in Wakanda, and the hidden feelings are finally coming out.

Words count: 2.6k.

Warnings: smut, best friends to lovers, Bucky has one arm, he's insecure, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pet names.

Author’s note: I finally wrote this because this scenario couldn't let me sleep peacefully. I also have an idea for the second part (with Bucky’s new arm🤭), so I'll write it if you like this part <3

*English is not my first language, sorry if you find any mistakes*

masterlist my ao3 ko-fi

You finally got permission to visit Bucky in Wakanda again since he was permanently living there to get rid of the Winter Soldier program and learn how to live a normal life again. You were there only three times because Princess Shuri and Ayo insisted that too much contact with other people might distract Bucky.

You jumped right into his arms as soon as you walked down the hill and saw him standing near the lake. He hugged you back, burying his face into your neck, and it was truly the moment that you never wanted to end. Bucky smelled like fresh air mixed with some kind of seasoning, and fuck, he looked good. In traditional Wakandian clothes that were covering his missing arm too, a low bun on the back of his head with a few springs of hair around his face, and smooth and tanned skin from the work under the sun.

You two quickly moved to his hut with the food that you bought at the local cafe owned by a sweet old man. And somewhere after that, when you were eating on the floor covered with many blankets and colorful pillows and talking about your lives, everything went downhill.

Food was forgotten. Somehow you ended up sitting on Bucky’s lap while you were connected in the most passionate and dirty kiss you ever had. Your hands were tightly holding his face, and his right one had a strong grip on your waist to hold you closer.

“Bucky…” You moaned in his mouth while your hips were grinding into his hardness, which was so obvious through the clothes. You both were so lost in the moment, sharing a desperate kiss full of tongues and teeth, trying to get to each other as close as possible.

It felt so right, like it was supposed to happen a long time ago, and now all of your feelings just couldn't be kept inside.

When he pulled away, you tried to follow his mouth, almost addicted to the taste and the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Fuck, doll, that’s not how I imagined it.” His face became sad and almost apologetic, and you saw that the corners of his now red lips moved downward in disappointment. “Not here, not with only one arm... Fuck, I can’t even touch you the way I want to.” His hand tightened on your hip, and you gave him a sad smile. Not that those things mattered to you, but your heart still hurt because Bucky felt that way.

“I don’t care about it. I just want you, Bucky, if you want me too, of course.” Your voice was soft and gentle, soothing his nerves a little bit.

“You can’t imagine how much I want it, but I can’t do much with one hand; fuck, it’s so bad, I’m sorry...” Bucky’s eyes closed and his head fell lower, but you could still see a pink flush on his cheeks.

“Bucky, I want it; I want you, and your hand is not a problem, okay?” He deeply inhaled when your hands took his face and your lips were back on his. The kiss wasn’t so harsh and desperate; it was more deep and passionate, like you both tried to feel each other. “Why don’t you just lay back on the pillows, and I’ll do everything?” You bit your lip, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and put your right hand on his chest, pushing Bucky back on the pile of pillows behind him so he was sitting in a reclined position.

You saw the hesitation in his eyes, and you waited a few seconds, gently rubbing your fingers over his beard, so he could process your idea.

“Okay.”

“Mhm, but— please, can we leave this on?” He pointed to his shoulder, covered in blue material.

“Just leave it on, okay?”

“You can have me, Bucky. Do you want me to take the rest of our clothes?” You moved your hips a little bit, getting an almost desperate whine from Bucky. He looked so good like this: slightly disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, red lips, and eyes full of lust and need. And he was completely yours, fuck.

“Yes, please.”

“Bucky,” you said, laying down on his chest. “I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? But for now, I want to take care of you.” The feeling of your hard nipples pressing against his firm chest sent shivers down your spine, and the hand on your back made you want to grind on Bucky like a bitch in heat. “Please, touch me, baby.”

“You shouldn’t say shit like this to me, doll. I won’t let you go until you can’t even fucking think straight. Fuck– how are you so soft…” Bucky’s hand was now exploring your body, gripping your ass, tracing your stomach, and going straight to your sensitive boobs. He never wanted to have both arms as much as he does now, to touch every curve of your body and find everything that makes you feel good.

“Doll, look at you.” His eyes were glued to the place where his fingers traced your folds. “Is this all for me?”

“You have a dirty mouth, Barnes.” You laughed before reaching to the back, grabbing his cock, and lifting your body at the same time. You put the tip at your entrance, running his length through your folds and letting the head bump your clit as he collected your wetness, until you both couldn’t handle the teasing anymore. Bucky put his hands on your ass, pressing on top and allowing you to slowly take him inside of you.

“Bucky…” Your eyes were flattering, not being able to completely focus on his face. You thought that you could just fuck him and take control, but you didn’t expect to be this cock drunk before either of you even made a move.

“So pretty lookin’ like this baby.”

“‘M so full…” You moaned, gripping Bucky’s hand and interlacing your fingers.

“That’s okay, Buck, just relax, please? Don’t worry.” You cooed in the softest voice. Your hips started to slowly move at a stable pace.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He mumbled, and you felt that his body started to thrust into yours, so his cock perfectly touched your g-spot.

It became more intense with every minute. The little hut was filled with the smell of sex and the sound of your moans, combined with the skin slapping. You were too desperate for each other, trying to reach your climaxes but not wanting this moment to end.

Bucky tried to touch you as much as possible; he wanted to make you feel good, give you satisfaction, and fulfill his own needs in your presence. He moved his hand from your ass to your stomach and boobs, then to your face, bringing you closer for another hot and passionate kiss. He was all over you, hungry to get more and to remember every centimeter of your perfect body.

You two moved in perfect rhythm, meeting each other's movements.

“Please, Bucky– it’s so good, fu-uck, I’m gonna cum.” You cried out loud, feeling that your body was starting to go numb from your approaching orgasm.

That was the breaking point for you. You completely lost control over your body, barely being able to stay still when the waves of pleasure were breaking through you.

“Good girl. You can almost feel me in your stomach, yeah?” Bucky’s palm was feeling every thrust of his dick with the palm of his hand, and it felt fucking insane. “Fu-u-uck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, ‘m not gonna last longer.” He moaned, losing his rhythm too, while you fell down on his chest, too overwhelmed and overstimulated.

“I don’t feel m’ body…” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy, and wrapped your hands around Bucky’s body.

“Sleep, baby.” The soft material fell on your back, covering your naked bodies. You felt a light kiss on top of your head, and Bucky’s arm hugged your back, holding you closer to him.

You couldn’t be sure, but right before you drifted to sleep, you heard something that weirdly sounded like “I love you.”

pt.2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky smut #one shot #smut #x reader

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