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gay-dorito-dust · 21 days

Note

I wanna kiss HSR men on the forehead and tell them I’m proud of them. May I request some HCs of their reaction?

Aventurine practically melts the moment your hands held his face with a warm tenderness as your thumbs softly caressed his cheeks, causing him to close his eyes and eagerly lean into your touch.

He could feel every ounce of love you had towards him in such a simple touch that he wondered how that could even be possible.

How easy you made it seem to be able to convey all your thoughts and feelings in something small like a touch of a hand, a brush of shoulders, or even a nudging of a foot; something that shouldn’t convey as much heavy emotions but did whenever you were the one performing those small gestures.

Not to mention that most of those small but impactful gestures were directed towards him made Aventurine wonder whatever could he -out of everyone else- have possibly done to even remotely deserving of any of it.

‘I’m proud of you Kakavasha.’ You said as you lifted a hand to push away his bangs and press a loving kiss to his forehead, making him whimper and press further against your lips, silently begging you for more. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ You add as you pressed another kiss to his forehead.

Such simple words and a peck to his forehead shouldn’t have so much effect over Aventurine but it did as his eyes shot open the moment he felt you pull away, looking at you with his pretty eyes with something you’ve never seen before as he muttered under his breath.

‘What was that?’ You then asked as Aventurine sighs, leaning back against the bed. ‘I said I wanted more…please can I have more.’

‘You can have as many as your heart desires.’ You tell him, pressing a third and a fourth kiss to his forehead as he allows himself to properly relax under your seemingly magical touch, letting kiss away his thoughts until only you remained.

Argenti would smile sweetly as he watched you push his bangs back to reveal his forehead, feeling your warm breath fan across his skin as your lips closed the distance between you as you pressed a tender kiss to his forehead.

‘I’m so proud of you Aregenti.’ You whispered but the cherry haired knight hear you clear as day.

‘Whatever for my beloved rose.’ He’d replied as he kept you close, wishing for nothing more than to commit this tender moment to his memory ever more.

You shrug. ‘Am I not allowed to say that I’m proud of you in general rather than say it after you’ve done something spectacular? Don’t that seem a little redundant?’ You asked as Argenti chuckled, bringing his face close and nudging his nose gently against your own.

‘It does indeed.’ He agrees before posing a question of his own. ‘But wouldn’t the words loose their meaning after a while if we were to say how proud we are of each other after everything?’

‘No.’ You answered without hesitation as you looked into his pretty eyes that you loved to see first thing in the mornings you’ve shared together thus far. ‘Not if they come from your lips they don’t. I don’t think I could ever grow tired if you were to tell me how proud of me you were.’ You admit and Argenti made a face.

‘Do I not do that enough already?’ He asks genuinely curious as you smile, kissing his cheek.

‘You do but at least let me return the favour now and then. I want to praise my beautiful knight more often than not.’ You murmured against his skin.

Argenti hums as he kisses your forehead. ‘You already do so just by smiling lovingly at me. I don’t need words of praise to fall from your lips when your actions speak far louder but if that’s what you wish, then it shall be granted my beloved rose.’

Sunday

His wings would flutter when you kiss his forehead after a long day of preventing The Family from collapsing in on itself.

‘I’m so proud of you.’ You uttered into his ear, making him gasp as his wings would instinctively twitch at the sound of your voice due to their hyper sensitivity.

Then he would regain composure and smile graciously at you. ‘Thank you my beloved. It is truly a relief knowing that I’m doing right by you to earn your love and your praise, I shall not waste them.’

Sunday lives and breaths on your praises as though they were the only things giving him life. So whenever you do give him praise for anything, Sunday feels more and more validated into continuing whatever he was doing in hopes of earning more in the future.

You had a powerful, powerful man who had an innate need to prove himself to you in order to gain your trust, love and respect and won’t stop until he had it in droves.

All this was within him and locked behind a calm, cool and levelheaded facade.

He may not look like he was heavily affected by your actions and sweet words on the outside but internally his need to keep you happy and proud of him outweighed everything else as the happier you were, the less likely you were to attempt to leave him later on.

Boothill

He impatiently waits for the days where you bless his face with kisses and whatnot.

It’s his ultimate weakness and you knew that face very well whenever you watched as his cheeks went all flushed, making this shark teethed man looked about as harmless as a puppy dog, when in actuality he was anything but harmless.

‘I’m so proud of you.’

You had this man weak in the knees from that alone, but the fact that you went out of your way to press a kiss to his forehead oh so sweetly had him practically kneeling before you in worship.

‘Whatever for darling?’ He’d ask.

‘Just for being genuine yourself.’ You would response, kissing his forehead a second time and pulling back to watch as he smiled dopily.

‘If me just being myself is enough to earn me some forehead kisses and sweet praises from someone as sweet as you, then count me in sweetheart.’ He would then say as he practically melted he felt your hands as they held his face still as you kissed his forehead for a third time.

Boothill thrived off of your affection.

It was his personal drug that he could never get enough of.

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ghcstao3 · 3 months

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(x)

It’s… different, having a teammate held for a genuine interrogation, and not just for some qualifying exercise they’ve all had to participate in.

Soap and Ghost’s fight hadn’t been very fun, for as long as it had lasted. Nothing like their spars where teasing remarks were made around skillful manoeuvres, where at the end of everything they knew what limits could be pushed and what boundaries to respect. Instead it was fought dirty, viciously, and only because Soap knows Ghost was he able to stand his ground at all.

In the end, though, as the targets were detained or killed and the illegal fighting ring shut down—Soap came out victorious, when Ghost had been tranquilized.

The lighting is hardly any better in their makeshift interrogation room, but it’s enough to show Ghost’s withered state since his capture; gaunt cheeks, new scars, hollow stare. He hadn’t come into the arena with a shirt, so he doesn’t have one now—and it hurts Soap to see the outline of his ribs with every haggard breath he takes.

Soap is off in the sidelines as Price pokes and prods his lieutenant for answers—Soap had been deemed too injured to risk getting close, even when Ghost had been restrained. He holds a melting ice pack to a swollen, split lip with the one arm that hadn’t been recently dislocated and reset. He’ll admit that Ghost did a number on him.

He just prays they can get the lieutenant back.

But as the days stretch on, it gets increasingly difficult to hold onto hope. With no information, no signs of breaking, no signs of Simon—he might become a lost cause. And Soap doesn’t think he’s prepared to accept that yet.

Two weeks later, after they’ve moved location and shifted accommodations, Price resigns to finally let Soap help. He’s in much better shape, though the same can hardly be said about Ghost; he barely eats, hasn’t spoken once, and no one on the team is sure he’s really been sleeping.

Soap’s approach is slow. Ghost has already been roused and restrained yet again, perhaps only to be pushed and questioned to no avail like every other time. He barely spares Soap a glance upon his entrance into the room.

Their eyes properly meet for the first time in years when Soap kneels on the ground before Ghost, almost pleading. As if in prayer.

Simon’s eyes were always warm. They were the colour of Simon’s favourite tea, flecked with honey gold when the light hit his irises at just the right angle. Now, his gaze is frigid, his eyes nearly black. It takes everything within Soap not to mourn then and there.

“I’m sorry,” Soap murmurs. “I was supposed to have your six.”

Ghost stares at him with indifference, his attention in a faraway place. Soap misses his lieutenant now more than ever.

“I’d understand if you never forgive me,” Soap continues, itching to reach out and touch, “but I at least need you to come back, yeah? Please, Simon.”

Ghost’s jaw twitches almost imperceptibly.

Against all orders Price had given Soap, and against all training that has Soap’s instincts screaming—he leans his head against Ghost’s knee. He exhales shakily and just… sits like that, for a little while. Ghost doesn’t move, so neither does Soap, and maybe this will be the best thing the sergeant could get ever again, so he relishes.

Soap almost misses the hitch in Ghost’s own breathing, but he certainly doesn’t miss trembling, curious fingers dragging through his mohawk, now nearly overgrown. Soap freezes.

Ghost’s voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper when he speaks, but Soap’s heart is pounding loudly in his chest as he listens anyway.

Quiet, broken, and nearly inaudible, something slips from Ghost’s lips for the first time in two weeks.

“Johnny.”

#this has not been read over and it is 4am so pls overlook any mistakes #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

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namelessuchiha · 1 year

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mdni, nsfw, not reviewed for errors

thinking about virgin!armin

the two of you meet each other well into your twenty’s, so when you learn that he is still a virgin you have to hold back from your jaw dropping.

“so like… what have you done?” you asked one night, genuinely curious.

“i—well uh…” he paused, a stuttering and blushing mess. “n-nothing. nothing at all, if i’m being honest.”

his answer was the beginning of the end. the beginning of many nights entering his apartment, under the guise of teaching him all the things he had been missing.

virgin!armin who whimpers and chases your lips when you pull away from his soft swollen lips.

virgin!armin who’s whole body is twitching and squirming the first time you pump your fist around his cock. “f-feels so good, so much better than when i do it.”

virgin!armin who sees stars at the feeling of your lips wrapping around the red and leaky tip of his hard cock. he cries out apologies when his hips accidentally thrust up, causing you to gag. the apologies continue when he pulls out of your month in a frenzy right before cumming all over your lower face and chest. he gasps when you bring your fingers up, collecting the liquid and licking them clean. “s-stop that’s so embarrassing!” “but you taste so good armin, couldn’t help myself.”

virgin!armin who feels like he’s forgotten how to breathe when you’re lowering yourself down on him for the first time. he thinks he’s going to die of pleasure, right here buried in your warm and tight pussy. his hands are shaking as he brings them up to grip your hips. breathy moans and whimpers leave his lips as you relentlessly rock your hips, riding him.

“slow—ah—please slow down angel!”

you want to slow down, you really do. you want to make his first time memorable and lengthy. but the way he feels inside of you is too mind numbing. “can’t slow down ‘min, you feel so good inside of me.”

“please!—” he desperately cries, “if you don’t slow down i’m going to—hah—”

his head is thrown back into the pillows, eyes screwed shut as his grip on your hips tightens to a degree you know will leave bruises. you pick up the pace, bringing your feet up and positioning into a squat, bouncing yourself even faster.

“going to what, armin? hmm? going to cum already?” you giggle, “don’t be ashamed, i want you to. go ahead, cum for me baby.”

only when he falls apart, shooting thick hot ropes inside of you, only then do you slow down. you gently wipe the tears that have gathered at the corners of his eyes and run your hand through his sweaty hair. “did so good armin, how did that feel?”

he swallows, trying to catch his breath. with pink cheeks and a soft smile he looks up at you, “mhm— never felt anything better.”

virgin!armin who is no longer a virgin, who is a quick learner and easily figures out how to have you desperately withering underneath him, the same way he had been for the last few months.

#armin arlert #attack on titan #attack on titan armin #shinjeki no kyojin #armin arlet x you #armin arlet smut #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet imagines #smut #aot #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #aot smut #aot x female reader #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x you #armin arlert smut

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what-even-is-thiss · 6 months

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What do you think gay men are attracted to in men that they can’t be attracted to in women?

It can’t be anything about femininity or masculinity obviously. That’s both sexist, and cultural so can’t be what drives men-only attraction.

It can’t be anything about stated identity because someone could lie just as easily as they could tell the truth in such a statement, and it makes no sense because homosexuality and heterosexuality exists in other species with no stated identities. It’s not like other animals without gender are all pan.

Saying idk it’s the vibes or some indescribable trait men have that women can’t but “I can’t explain” is a nonanswer.

Soooooooo what is it? Or do you think any sexuality but bi/pan is just cultural performance or an identity rather than an inborn orientation?

- [ ]

There’s whole subsets of philosophy and science dedicated to this sort of thing, dude. If you’re looking for one particular answer that applies universally to all gay men or all of one orientation or gender etc that’s not useful and if you insist upon getting that one particular answer you come across as dangerously ignorant.

Asking what it is that makes someone gay is a bit like asking “What’s an American?” or “What’s a country?”

At first they seem like straightforward questions but once you dig even a bit below the surface you’ll find that everyone and every place and every situation has a different answer. Is the EU a country? Is India? Is Idaho? Why? Why is a Mexican an American in Spanish but not in English? Spanish speakers will be insulted if you say they’re not American but Canadians will be insulted if you say they are. And Americans as in persons and from the United States of America aren’t as clear cut a group as that quick little definition I gave you would suggest. Why would someone living in the US for over a decade not consider themselves an American? Why would someone who just moved here insist they are American? Is it citizenship that makes you American? The continent you live on? How do you draw lines between continents? At what point do you identify more with your adopted country than the one you were born in?

Being gay is similarly complicated. What makes you gay? Your gender? Your attraction? Who you’d prefer to marry? Who you’d prefer to have sex with? Is gay a political position? Does it mean you’re happy? Is it a girl’s name? A surname? Is it only for men? Is it also for women? Is it a slur? Is it a reclaimed slur? Is it just a word? Where are you in time? What language are you speaking? Are you personally more attracted to genitals or hands or smells or the whole package? Can you sometimes fall for someone not typically your type? Is it a personality thing? How much of your attraction is influenced by your genetics, the balance of hormones in your parent’s womb, your society, your upbringing, your friends?

The only available answer is a non-answer because sexual orientation isn’t an arithmetic question. There’s no A+B=C that can be applied universally to all people who identify with a certain term. Any more than one singular definition can be given to a country, a gender, a continent. There’s some things that just don’t have one solid iron clad definition and anyone attempting to give them one typically has an agenda.

Anon, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and hope that you’re not here attempting to cause trouble and that you’re genuinely curious. But if you’re here attempting to set up bait, please reconsider how you think about definitions and queer identities and identity more broadly.

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itslixtoyou · 4 months

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Research purposes

Satoru Gojo x fem reader

Fic type - NSFW/smut (minors dni)❗️

Warnings - fingering, p in v sex, role play in a way I guess, I suck at warnings so lmk if I need to add more.

Summary - You’re a writer, struggling to figure out how to write an explicit scene for one of your romance novels and so your husband suggests “helping you out” by demonstrating how the sex scene in your book should go.

Word count - I didn’t count yet lol

Imagine being a writer and your curious husband, sensing your frustration, joins your side as you type away at your computer. His head tilting to skim across the pages of the latest romance book you’re currently writing.

“How’s this one coming along, babe?” He asks with genuine interest as he tries to follow along with you while your eyes re-read over the paragraphs you wrote a day ago. The same ones your agonizing burst of writer’s block was preventing you from adding on to.

“I’m stuck on how to write this scene.” You groan, letting out a frustrated sigh before quickly closing your laptop altogether and muttering an annoyed “forget it” as you stand up.

“Whoa hold on.” Satoru quickly places his hands in front of you to block you as you tried to walk away. “Don’t stress, it’s okay if it’s not done right away.”

“But every time I try to-“

Satoru quickly places his fingers to your lips and shushes you. “I said don’t stress. I can’t have that pretty face of yours looking so upset.” He says in a gently scolding tone before he smiles, urging you to sit down on the couch with him. “Just talk me through it babe. Tell me how the scene is supposed to go and I’ll try to help you figure it out.”

Imagine explaining to him the entire premise of the scene, one that, thankfully, happened to be a sex scene.

His lips formed into a smirk as he started to see where things were heading, his mouth opening to let out a teasing “So do they kiss?” Despite knowing they’d do much more than that.

“They definitely do a little more than kiss, Toru.” Your face scrunched into a gentle smile as you laughed, unaware of the way Satoru’s was forming into a smirk.

Imagine Satoru’s hand soon appearing against your thigh and his face leaning to whisper against your ear unexpectedly as he asked “Really now? And do they do this as well?” His hand soon trailed upwards, sneaking past the pair of lounge shorts you’d been wearing till he reached your clothed clit.

His fingers started to rub in a circular motion, causing your breath to hitch in your lungs at his sudden actions.

“Well a-actually, they really just-“ you tried to speak through heavy breaths, but a low voice interrupted you.

“No? What a shame. You should add this part then.” He says with a smirk as he applies more pressure, making you squirm gently.

“I’m only trying to help you, babe. So take notes, you’ll need this for your book.”

Imagine the way his fingers soon plunge into your cunt as he keeps you under him, occasionally whispering taunting sentences that consist of “do you think he’d make her moan like this too?” or “Would she like it if he added another finger?”

Silly sentences to which you answer, quiet breathlessly, “I don’t know, maybe you should try it… just so I know.”

His fingers thrust deeper at your words, pulling another desperate whine from you as he stretches you open. “You’re right, I have to, for the sake of your book, of course.”

Imagine the intensity rising as he asks more questions, giving himself a plethora of excuses to keep going.

“Do you think she’d look this pretty under him?”

“Would her back arch the way yours does?”

“Do you think she’d want him to go faster?”

Your whiny moans fill the air as your husband thrusts his cock relentlessly inside you, gripping your ass with both hands and using it as a guide to push himself deeper within you. “Babe please, just drop the act already.”

You try to speak between panted breaths, wanting your husband to focus simply on you, and not on the ridiculous book that caused this passionate lovemaking session in the first place; a novel in which you found yourself caring less and less about as your husband’s cock drilled pleasantly inside you again and again with each passing second.

“Hush sweetheart,” he interrupted you, “I’m trying to help you envision the scene better.”

Imagine the minutes that seem to turn into hours as he continues his hungry thrusts, his lips almost sucking the flesh off your neck as he kisses it repeatedly.

How his body sticks to yours through a layer of sweat and his hips seem to maintain their momentum far after you feel your legs go numb from the position he’s holding them in over his shoulders.

His eyebrows knit together as he groans deeply, feeling the clench of your tight walls around him as you climax for the third.. fourth… how many times has it happened now?

How long have you both been going at this?

The answer remains a mystery as you lose all capacity to even ponder an explanation, too focused on the sliding of your husband’s cock inside your needy pussy as he renders you useless underneath him.

“D-Do you think she’d… Ngh… do you think she’d last this long too?”

Satoru mumbles with a breathless moan, his self-control depleting as he recognizes the familiar drench of another one of your orgasms covering the entirety of his swollen tip.

Imagine the way he’d keep this silly act going just so he can continue pleasuring you by hiding behind an excuse.

When every time you questioned him about whether or not he’d be waiting for an opportunity like this, he immediately denies it, insisting throughout the entire session that this whole thing was simply for “research purposes” and nothing more.

How he’d urge you to keep going every time a whiny plea jerked out your lips because “the sake of your book depended on it.”

He takes his time, milking this excuse to the fullest as he satisfies the much needed urges he’d been keeping bottled up since earlier today. The same urges he quickly realized you had, coincidentally, been hiding the entire day too.

Imagine the grin that washed across your husband’s exhausted expression as he heard you playfully say “I think I know what to write now” soon after he’d already collapsed on your bare chest.

“Good.” He spoke as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “Now make sure you remember to add all the juicy details okay? My character won’t be happy if you leave anything out.”

You giggle breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath from the intense feeling that lingers between your legs. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you know if I need you to refresh my memory.”

#satoru gojo smut #satorugojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk satoru #satoru smut #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru smut

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ameliora-j · 6 months

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— fame f❊cker 𐐪𐑂 michael clifford

𐐪𐑂 summary -> the four times you fucked a different member of the same band, and the one time they all found out 𐐪𐑂 A 5 PART SERIES

𐐪𐑂 content -> part one!, alcohol, bar meetcute, reader not rlly having boundaries, tipsy sex, non australian implied reader, tons of pet names (kitten, pretty girl, my love, etc.), unprotected piv, soft dom!mikey, stranger sex, degradation, praise, humiliation, slight feelings of insecurity (mikey), daddy kink, choking, oral (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), slight size kink, creampie, THIS BLOG IS 18+ MDNI

𐐪𐑂 words -> 4.01k

Michael sits inside the dingy city bar, beer bottle in hand. The rest of the band are all strewn about the bar, having their go at girls, dancing and chatting them up—but he sits alone. Michael always was the least approached of the band members. Though, he didn’t mind—he liked being alone. He sits at the corner of the bar, his leather jacket hanging off the chair beside him so no one would attempt to sit with him.

That’s why, when you walk up to the bar and sneak right in between his legs, Michael is shocked. “‘Scuse me” you murmur to the man quietly, setting a hand on his thigh as you fit yourself between him and the bar. “Peach margarita please” you smile at the bartender.

By this point, he senses you’re already nearing drunk, the hand on his thigh being used to stabilize yourself rather than invade his personal bubble. He sets a hand on your hip to aid in your stabilization. His hand is large, warm and igniting a fire in your belly as he squeezes lightly at your hip.

“Sorry hun we’re out of peach flavor. I can do raspberry, strawberry, mango, or watermelon” the bartender smiles apologetically at you. You pout a bit, your shoulders sinking slightly in disappointment.

“Well… Can I get the most non-alcohol tasting drink with alcohol in it?” You ask, causing the girl to laugh a bit.

Michael’s interest is piqued further now, he thinks you’re just about the prettiest thing that’s ever come and forced itself upon his lap—and he’s thanking all his lucky stars you had. “She’ll take a tequila sunrise” he speaks up, smiling at the bartender, then you. “Put it on my tab” he adds.

At this, you turn to the mystery man who’s buying you alcohol—and whose lap you’re practically sat atop of. “If you think this means you’re getting your dick wet tonight, you’re insane… I hope you know” you hum softly.

Michael smirks a bit as he eyes you up and down. “Let me get this straight… You invade my personal space… practically sit on my lap… and then I’m insane for wanting to get my dick wet?” He lets out a genuine belly laugh at this, gazing at you.

Your face heats with embarrassment, finally realizing the position you’re in as you pull back and sit in the seat beside him. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t… Uh…” You stammer, shaking your head nervously.

He smiles at this, gently tipping your chin up. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it” he mutters lowly, kissing the corner of your lips. “To answer your question,” he sips his beer, “no hun, don’t wanna get my dick wet” he shakes his head. “I’d like to chat a bit if that’s alright?” He tries. “If not, you can just take the drink and be on your way.” He nods.

You smile softly as you finally get a good look at him. He’s cute… Sweet. He kinda reminds you of a kitten. “Well… I suppose you did just buy me a drink” you smile softly. “And I could never in good conscience sit on a strange bar man’s lap and not offer him something in return” you joke softly as you make yourself comfortable.

The bartender brings your drink over quickly and you smile, thanking her as she sets it in front of you. “So… What brings you to this skimpy little dive bar?” You ask Michael.

“A beer” he smirks, holding up said drink. “And you?” He reciprocates.

“Apparently a tequila sunrise, Mr. Mystery Man” you giggle softly.

“Mr. Mystery Man?” He raises a brow—questioning, curious. In truth, he’s a bit shocked you don’t know who he is—but simultaneously thankful that he can just be himself. “I like that, Tequila Girl.” He jokes back.

“Tequila Girl is a new one” you hum softly, sipping your drink. “WOW! That is really good” you emphasize as you look over at him.

“Well I’m glad you like it, Tequila Girl” he smiles—soft but prideful as he lifts his glass bottle and tips it towards you. You clink your glass against his botte and smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Mystery Man” you say genuinely.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ°

Mr. Mystery Man—Michael, you had learned to be his name—was an excellent conversationalist. Not only that, he was easy to talk to. Charming, funny, smart—and extremely good looking.

The two of you fell into an easy conversation—about video games, cars, hobbies, music, your dreams, his dreams, you even delved a bit into each other’s backgrounds. The two of you became so absorbed in talking to each other that your drinks were long forgotten—until the bartender was telling you it was last call.

“Would you like to come hang out at my hotel?” Michael asks as you lift your purse onto your shoulder. “It’s been amazing talking to you, and I… Don’t want the night to end yet” he smiles—shy for the first time that evening.

That seals the deal for you—this guy could absolutely not get any cuter. You hum, pretending to think for a second before offering him a cute smile. “Only if you let me borrow more comfortable clothes” you nod, looking down at your short, sparkly sequined black dress and high heels.

“It’s a deal” he smiles back, nodding as he takes your hand. If you weren’t so infatuated with the man’s scent and eyes, you’d have noticed him hiding your face as he leads you out of the parking lot and up to a big black Range Rover. You’d been swooning over Michael all night, but when he opens your door and holds your hand to help you step into the truck, you downright fall in love on the spot.

The drive to his hotel is short, only about 15 minutes from the bar. When he opens your door for you and helps you out, you finally realize that for some reason or other he’s still hiding you in his jacket. You let out tipsy little giggles as you stumble a bit over your stilettos, walking so close to him. “Why am I hiding in here?” You whisper.

“I’ll tell you in the morning… Deal?” He hums softly, rubbing your back as you get into the elevator. “Just keep your head down, pretty girl” he hums, kissing the back of your head as you two step into the elevator.

For the moment you’re thankful your head is down because if you think your face was warming up as he calls you ‘pretty girl,’ then it’s damn near on fire as his lips press to your head. “Okay…” You whisper in a slight daze, your head swimming with lust and attraction. The two of you stand in the elevator for what feels like eternities, and when you step off, you see that you’re on the 60th floor.

“Room 60-304, love. Here we are” he smiles as he unlocks the door with his key card. You hold in a gasp as you step into the room, stilettos clicking against the marble floor.

“It’s beautiful” you whisper, spinning around slowly as you glance at everything. He smiles softly, watching you twirl around the room. “Oo, Krispies!” You exclaim in excitement, rushing over to the mini bar. You reach forward, but pull your hand back a bit, remembering hotels charge for practically everything you touch.

“Go for anything you want, beautiful” he smiles softly, nodding in reassurance. You squeal in excitement, reaching forward once more and grabbing the Rice Krispies Treat. If he had to, Michael would pinpoint this moment in time as the first time he truly fell in love. “I’ll be right back hun, I’m gonna get ya some comfortable clothes.”

You smile softly around the treat in your mouth, nodding as you look at him. He then retreats to the bedroom, and you walk to the couch, making yourself comfortable. Michael was back within ten minutes, now shirtless and wearing a pair of sweatpants. He held a pair of basketball shorts and a large t-shirt in his hands for you, neatly folded as he held the stack out to you. “Thanks Mikey” you smile softly, wiping your Krispies crumbs on your dress as you take the clothes and go change in the bathroom.

He sits on the couch, flipping through for a movie as he waits for you to come back. Michael begins to worry when you take longer than ten minutes, and just as he’s about to go and check on you, you come out—hair wet, face cleaned and refreshed, and body swimming in his clothes. Michael never in his life would have imagined that the sight of a woman wearing comfortable clothes would turn him on this much.

He’s unsure if it’s because it’s his clothes, or if it’s because it’s you in his clothes… Or maybe it’s just you. But no matter, he’s fighting for nearly his life to hide the large boner straining against his sweatpants as he watches you walk over and sit on the couch. “Sorry… I felt sticky and wanted a shower” you explain shyly.

“Don’t apologize” he smiles softly. “Feel better?” He asks, smiling again as you nod. “Here, love” he hums, passing you a water bottle.

“Thanks, Mikey” you smile, taking a sip of your water. “So the accent tells me you’re clearly not from here… What brings you to town?” You ask curiously as you sit criss-cross applesauce and turn to face him.

“Would you believe me if I said vacation?” He asks, humming as he turns to face you.

“Honestly, not really. But mainly cus I live here so it’s so boring to me” you giggle. “How’s your vacation so far?” You smile.

“It’s only day one but I’d say it’s going really good so far” he smiles. “Have you lived here your entire life?” He asks you, causing you two to delve into your backgrounds and a bit of family history. It’s then when you realize you could listen to Michael speak for hours, even if he just spoke in circles.

You don’t even realize you’re not paying attention to him until a smirk begins to play on his lips. “What?” You whisper, blushing as you finally make eye contact with him.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl” he hums softly. “Or… Were you not paying attention?” He taunts.

“I… No I was paying attention” you pout softly. “I was just… thinking” you mumble lamely, biting your lip and racking your brain for what question Michael possibly could have asked you. Going with the safest probability you hum and look up at him. “Yes” you nod.

Michael’s smirk widens, and he snorts a bit over an attempt to bite back a laugh. “Yes?” He asked softly, raising a brow.

“Don’t laugh!” You insist, crossing your arms with a frown. “What’s so wrong about it?” You huff.

“My love…” your face burns in embarrassment at the nickname, forcing back a smile. “I asked you what you like to do for fun,” he hums softly. Your face burns hotter now, realizing you’d been caught not paying attention. Maybe he doesn’t know why you’re not focusing on his words. This thought saves you from your embarrassment untill he proceeds to ask: “What’s got you so distracted, kitten?”

You whine softly at the petname, your hips shifting. “Mikey…” You whisper softly, looking up at him with wide, dazed eyes.

“Oh baby… You want it, don’t you?” He mocks, moving closer to you as he pushes your hair behind your ear. You nod, pouting at him as you reach to touch him. He tuts softly, shaking your head as he holds your wrists. “No my love… tell me what you want” he smirks.

You whine again, frowning at him. “Mikey…” You insist, trying to wriggle free. Michael, however, is having none of it. He raises a brow, doubling down as he stares at you with a fiery gaze. You get lost in the green of his pretty eyes, tugging your lip between your teeth as you whine a bit. “Want you, please…” you whisper.

“Awh honey… Just a few hours ago you were calling me insane for wanting to get my dick wet and now you’re practically begging for it” he mocks, pinching your cheek tauntingly. “You’re so cute” he murmurs, leaning in and kissing up your jaw.

“But you need to be louder” he orders. A gentle one, but assuring you knew that he was in charge, and you’d follow his orders for the night. Not that you had any qualms about that… This beautiful man that you’d met no more than four hours ago could throw you around like a ragdoll and you’d sing praises to his name without him having to ask.

“I want you… Mikey, I need you. Know you can make me feel really really good… Want it pretty please” you look up at him with a cute pout. The innocent look in your eyes has Michael’s cock twitching in his pants, biting his lip and groaning at your pathetically cute whiny voice.

Michael would be lying if he said watching you beg for him didn’t inflate his ego just a bit. There was a ton of guys in that bar tonight, hell the rest of his band was in that bar… but you chose him. You went home with him. He was the man you were about to spread yourself out for, give your body to. The man that you were begging to touch you and make you feel good.

The knowledge of the power he currently holds over you makes his cock even harder in his pants. He groans, giving up on his attempt at keeping composure as he pushes you back against the couch cushions, enveloping your mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. You moan against his mouth, arching your back as his hands run over your body. “Pretty little thing” he mumbles as he pulls your shirt off, immediately kissing across your chest.

Michael’s hands are quick, but skillful as well. His fingers calloused due to the years of guitar playing, and you moan as the rough pads pinch at your already hardening nipples. You whine again, your hips bucking, causing your pulsing pussy to grind against his thigh as he fits himself between your legs. “Michael…” You breathe, moaning quietly.

“You make the prettiest noises baby” he murmurs softly, nipping down your neck. “‘Specially when you’re moaning my name” he mumbles, trailing kisses and hickies down your neck, to your chest. “Do it again” he growls quietly.

You gasp softly, arching your back a bit as you follow his orders, moaning his name once more. This time when you do, you lean up directly into his ear, breathing his name quietly as you tug at his hair. Michael groans at the sound of your voice, wrapping his hand around your neck. “Are you a virgin, pretty girl?” He teases.

“No, Daddy” you breathe softly, flushing in complete embarrassment as the honorific easily slips from your lips, your mind slipping quickly into a submissive haze. “I-I’m sorr-“ Michael stops your sentence almost as soon as it starts, squeezing a bit harder at your neck.

“Don’t apologize… Just keep saying it, Kitten” he smirks, leaning down and swallowing the moan that slips past your lips as he kisses you. He runs his hands down your sides, squeezing at your hips before sneaking a hand beneath your basketball shorts. “Did you leave your panties off?” He smirks, rubbing his thumb over the bare slit of your pussy. “Naughty, naughty girl” he tuts softly, shaking his head.

You whine as the pad of his thumb circles your swollen clit, unable to help the jerk of your hips as you grind against his hand. He sucks in air through his teeth as his middle finger pushes into your slippery hole, grunting as he presses down on your tummy a bit. “That’s a tight little hole, baby… Dunno if my cock’s gonna fit in it.” He mocks.

“No… No can make it fit” you moan louder as he pushes another finger into your cunt. “You can make it fit I need it” you whine loudly, arching your back.

“You’re so adorably pathetic” he laughs, crooking his fingers up to hit your gspot. “Keep making those pretty noises for Daddy ‘n maybe I’ll get you nice ‘n wet with my mouth before I split you open on this big cock.” He chuckles.

“Yes” you moan, nodding. “Yes, please,” you whine, fucking yourself on his fingers. “Oh fuck Daddy, please” you moan, circling your hips on his fingers. “Y’make me feel so good… Stretching me so good” you moan. By this point, your moans have become practically incoherent, stringing any word you could think of together in an attempt to form a sentence as you fuck youreelf on his hand.

Michael can’t take it anymore. Your whines and begs nearly have him busting out of his pants before he’s tearing off your’s. He groans at the sight of your bare cunt, pushing your legs up to your chest before diving in. He moans, spitting on your cunt before licking a bold stripe from your weeping hole up to your pulsing clit. You whine, your hands flying to his hair and pushing his face impossibly closer to your cunt.

His beard drags against your sensitive pussy lips as his mouth envelops your cunt. You’re whining out his name, leaking into his mouth as tears of pleasure leak from the corner of your eyes. You’re nearly sent over the edge as his lips wrap around your fat clit, puckering as he roughly sucks at the sensitive bud, his tongue swirling circles around it.

You whine loudly as you feel his fingers push into your entrance once more, a moan from him sending a shockwave to your cunt and igniting each nerve in your body causing your toes to curl and a loud moan to spill over your kiss-swollen lips. When you look down, you see Michael’s left hand wrapped around his thick cock. The head red and angry, dripping precum down onto the cushions of the couch as his hand strokes over it in quick motions. He’s grunting and groaning into your pussy, getting off on the taste of your and the sound of your moans alone.

Both of your heads are swimming in lust, Michael lost in his head as his ego inflates like a balloon hearing the amount of pleasure he’s causing you. The sound of him eating your cunt is filthy, making you impossibly wetter as you hear Michael’s slurps and grunts as he drinks from your cunt as if it’s a fountain of eternal youth. You tug at his long pink locks, the whiny little ‘Daddy’s spilling from your lips spurring him on as he moves faster. “Oh Daddy… Daddy please ‘m gonna cum” you whine, arching your back as you push his face even closer.

Michael chuckles as he pulls back, causing a perturbed whine to spill from your lips as you pout at him. “Oh baby… As much as I'd love to lick this little pussy until you cum… I wanna feel you squeezing my cock while you cum for me” he growls in your ear as he runs his cock through your slit.

Your hips buck as the head of his leaking cock nudges against your clit. Mikey pulls his lip between his teeth, taking a breath to calm himself as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight cunt. You whine at the stretch, pouting at him with wide eyes as your legs spread. “Please, Daddy…” you gasp.

“Fuck, Kitten” he groans as he slowly pushes his dick into you. “This tight cunt is gonna make me burst…” he grunts. “Gonna fuck this little pussy raw… Fill you up with my cum, pretty girl. Would you like that?” He taunts, moaning as he bottoms out, pressing down on your tummy.

“Yeah” you whimper. “Yeah, I like it a lot. Please” you breathe. Mikey’s awestruck at how quick he’s reduced you to nothing but moans and whines—soft cries of his name spilling from your lips as he fucks you slowly.

“You feel so good baby” he mumbles, his thumb coming to stroke against your clit. “Tightest little pussy I’ve ever had” he groans, pushing your leg up over his shoulder. You whine loudly as he pulls out and thrusts in once more, his cock kissing your gspot as your hips twitch.

“Big” you moan back, arching your back into him as he pulls your nipple between his lips. “Big-biggest… Big” you whine dumbly as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Michael chuckles at how pathetic you sound, squeezing at your throat as his hips pick up the pace, chasing his impending orgasm as he licks, sucks, and bites at your nipples. “Whose pussy is this baby?” He teases, smoothing your hair back as he holds you close to him. “Tell Daddy who you belong to ‘n I’ll let you cum.”

You whine, clenching tightly around him as more arousal spills from your cunt, making your opening more slippery and allowing Michael easier access to fuck you as he pleased. “I know you want to, baby… I feel your little cunt squeezing me… Tryin’ to milk me dry” he groans, his forehead falling to your shoulder as sweat drips off of him. “All you gotta do is tell me who you belong to, Kitten, Daddy’ll let you cum” he cooes mockingly, gently stroking over your clit.

Your voice is stuck in your throat, your jaw dropped in pleasure as you practically fight to breathe. You choke over a loud moan, your nails clawing down his back as you look into his pretty green eyes. Then and only then do you finally find a voice as his cock presses to your gspot. “You” you finally choke out loudly. “It’s yours… Your pussy I… It belongs to you!” You whine. “Oh fuck please let me cum, please!” You beg, your legs shaking as you try to hold off for him.

“Only because you beg so so pretty, Kitten” he smiles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as you moan. He holds your hip with his hand, keeping you pressed against his chest as he strokes over your clit. “Come on baby… Cum for Daddy ‘n I’ll fill you up” he whispered softly. “Keep your eyes on me baby, don’t close them” he hums, his hips stuttering as you squeeze around him.

You nod dumbly, your forehead pressed against his as you blink slowly. You swallow hard, your jaw dropping as your eyes roll back. “I’m… I’m… Cumming, ‘m cumming” you gasp around whines, your body shaking as you cum around Michael’s cock.

He groans as he feels the way you squeeze him, your cunt becoming impossibly tighter as he ruts into you. A cacophony of whines, moans, cries, and whines spill from your lips—your eyes never once breaking contact with Mikey’s as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Th-thank…” you gasp, your eyes rolling as you feel Mikey’s hips stuttering, his cock twitching against your gspot a few times before he presses his hips to your’s. His pelvis kisses your clit as the head of his cock kisses your cervix, spraying his cum deep into your awaiting womb as he lets out a symphony of moans.

He holds you to his chest as he cums, leaning in to press a passionate kiss to your lips. You let out soft whimpers and whines against his lips as your body twitches against his. He pulls back slowly, smiling lovingly as he smoothes your hair back. “Such a good girl, baby” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your head.

You hum softly as you smile lazily at him. “Thank you, Daddy…” you whisper quietly, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“You’re so welcome, pretty girl” he smiles, kissing your nose gently as he pulls out slowly. “Now, let’s get you a bath.”

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ

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#nsfw.nani #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford x you #michael clifford x yn #michael clifford x y/n #michael clifford smut #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford angst #michael clifford x reader smut #michael clifford fic #michael clifford fanfic #michael clifford fanfiction #michael clifford blurb #michael clifford dialogue #michael clifford headcanon #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford drabble #michael clifford #fem!reader

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darylas · 1 month

Text

Chapter 3 - Ghost of a Chance

John "Bucky" Egan x singer!fem!reader first ♫ previous ♫ next ao3

You go on a double date to distract yourself from thoughts of Bucky, a task made more difficult when he is sitting in the same pub.

4.2k words

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Non-consensual use of drugs, Attempted sexual assault, Mild violence

Disclaimer: Most of the characters mentioned are based on the dramatic portrayal featured in the Masters of the Air limited series, not the actual historical figures they represent.

A/N: Please read the warnings! MAJOR tone shift coming in from the north. I promise next chapter will be lighter!

“So, how long have you been in merry old England?”

“Less than a month, though it doesn’t feel that way,” you answered, swiping your thumb across the condensation that had formed quickly on your glass in the humidity of the pub. You were sat across from Lieutenant Tom Foyle, a pilot in the 351st. His dark hair was styled neatly with pomade, his handsome face clean-shaven. Next to you sat Millicent “Millie” Vance, another Red Cross girl who had somehow roped you into being one-fourth of a double date.

“Oh? Does it feel longer or shorter?” Tom asked. He seemed genuinely interested in your answer, as he had with everything you’d said that evening. He had kind, curious green eyes that made you feel like the only person in the room.

You looked down at your glass, half empty. “Both. Neither. To be completely honest I’m not quite sure. The work gets so repetitive that time seems to stand still some days, but other times it feels as though the clock is ticking faster than a runaway train. I suppose there’s nothing like war to make time feel rather short.” You gave Tom a reassuring smile, ending your little monologue before it grew any more depressing and soured the whole evening. “Sorry,” you said, holding up your glass. “It appears that gin makes me a tad melancholy.”

The blond pilot sitting across from Millie spoke up. “That’s funny, it makes me giddy. Of course, that could just be our present company.” He leaned forward, addressing Millie. “I told Tom that you had to be the prettiest girl this side of the ocean.”

Millie grinned and replied, “Glad we’re not on the other side of the ocean, then,” causing the pilot, Dan, to let out a surprised wheeze of laughter.

While Dan continued his boisterous flirting, saying something about Millie having wit as well as looks, Tom leaned toward you, filling your nostrils with the pleasant scent of his aftershave. He smirked and said in a low voice, “I believe his exact words to me were, ‘What a dish!’.”

You chuckled softly, pleasantly surprised that you were actually enjoying yourself. “I suppose we can’t all be Humphrey Bogart.”

“Sure, we can.” Tom cocked his head slightly to the side and spoke with Bogart’s deep and gravelly voice. “We’ll always have Paris.”

You laughed as he sat back in his chair with a smile. “You saw Casablanca?” you asked him.

“Yep, right before flying over. I’d go see movies whenever I could.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Used to think I could be an actor. Wouldn’t that be something? Seeing yourself on the big screen?” He certainly had the looks for it.

“Maybe after the war, you could pursue an acting career. I’m sure Hollywood would snatch you right up.” Tom smiled bashfully at the compliment. “I actually wanted to be in movies myself when I was younger. Particularly musicals. I’m not much of a dancer but hell, neither is Bing Crosby, and he gets away with it.” You took another sip of gin, inwardly wincing. It was stronger than the drinks you normally favored, but Dan had ordered a round for the table. You had never liked when a man ordered food or drink for a woman, but you didn’t want to embarrass Millie by declining.

“I’d see your films over Bing’s any day,” responded Tom, who managed to combine flirtation and authenticity with such ease that you were beginning to feel skeptical. You couldn’t help but glance toward the back of the pub, where Major Egan had been sitting with some of the other men for the past hour. You were surprised to find him looking right back at you. He gave you a small smile and a subtle nod. No wink, no devilish grin. Curious. Reflexively, you smiled back, then looked away.

Much to your annoyance, John Egan had begun to appear in your thoughts almost regularly and uninvited. Ever since that night at the club, he had gotten under your skin like a persistent itch. An egotistical, irritating, handsome, intriguing itch. You kept these thoughts to yourself, as you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that his asinine attempt to insult you into a conversation almost worked. By the same token, you were still wary of him, knowing his track record with women.

You knew, not so deep down, that you had agreed to come on this double date to distract yourself and perhaps meet someone else to occupy your thoughts. Someone like Tom, who picked up his glass and said, “To our Tinseltown dreams, then.”

You clinked your glass with his and said, “To Bing Crosby and his two left feet.”

Millie spoke up. “You know, our Red Cross canary here sings an old Bing song just beautifully. The one from that short with Mary Kornman. Anyone who’s ever made coffee and doughnuts with this one in the morning has heard her sing it.”

You shrugged one shoulder. “Anything to distract me from throwing that blasted doughnut machine out the window. I swear, my poor old Zippo is more reliable than that thing.”

“I thought you said your lighter doesn’t work anymore,” said Millie.

“Exactly,” you replied, to the laughter of your companions.

Tom, with laughter still in his voice, looked at you and said, “I’d sure love to hear you sing it sometime. After all, when some bigshot movie producer calls to ask me about your talents, I want to give him an accurate description.”

Dan scoffed. “Why would a movie producer call you about her?”

Tom lightly smacked his friend on the shoulder. “Why would anyone call you about anything?”

Dan’s blond mustache twitched as he smirked. “You’re hilarious. Anybody ever tell you what a gasser you are?”

There was a brief pause, during which your traitorous eyes suddenly flicked back to that table in the back of the pub. Major Egan was not looking at you this time, his attention currently fixed on his friend Lieutenant Curtis Biddick while he seemed to be mimicking various boxing forms. Egan laughed and hollered with the rest of the men at the table. He looked younger when he laughed, less like a commanding officer and more like a carefree young man. You assumed he shouldered a great many cares, and that the weight of them would only increase as the war continued. The humidity of the pub had caused a few curls to come loose over his forehead, the fire behind him giving his skin a warm glow.

“I’m sure the pianist knows it,” said Millie, breaking you out of what you could only describe as a trance before the Major caught you staring.

“Knows what?” you asked, praying to high heaven you weren’t blushing.

“The song! You could sing it here!”

“Oh, Millie, please. Most of these boys hear far too much of my caterwauling back at base. They come here to get away from that. Besides, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m in the middle of a date.” You gestured between yourself and Tom.

Tom smiled. “As much as I’m enjoying said date, I think the one thing it’s missing is a beautiful song sung by a beautiful lady. And I think all the guys in here would agree with me.”

“I don’t think they would-”

“What, you want me to take a poll?” asked Millie, teasingly. “Dan, sweetie, would you mind?”

Alright, maybe she wasn’t teasing. Dan stood up and shouted, “Gentlemen! Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” His question was answered with a chorus of affirmative shouts and whistles from around the pub.

Tom looked at you and grinned. “Sounds like you better head over there.”

You grinned back and let out a resigned huff of breath before standing up. “I suppose orders are orders, Lieutenant.”

═════ ♫ ═════

Bucky heard your laughter from across the pub. His eyes immediately turned towards you as the sound reached him, his instincts taking over before his thoughts could catch up. He’d seen you walk in with one of the pilots in the 351st, decked out and chatting with Millie Vance. You were smiling at that pilot now; not the plastered-on, rehearsed, all-American smile he had grown used to seeing at Thorpe Abbotts. This was the real thing, and it was beautiful. What would he give to be the reason for that smile? To be the one to make you laugh like that?

He would fly through a thousand miles of flak.

Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. He might just be the most pathetic man in the entire fucking world.

He couldn’t remember the last time he was so keen on someone. You had to be some sort of siren, luring him out to sea with your alluring voice, only to drag him down, down, down, to the depths of the ocean. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind. With a barely concealed smirk, he realized that being eaten alive by you would not be a terrible way to die.

You had glanced his way once or twice, no doubt feeling his eyes on you. He had tried to look away, to focus on the stories told around the table, but he simply couldn’t help himself. His gaze kept falling back on you. He had never seen you without your Red Cross uniform, and the dress you were wearing had clearly been custom-designed to drive him crazy.

Bucky was grateful for Curt’s loud voice and enthusiasm as he talked about boxing. The distraction was a welcome one, though he supposed that you were the true distraction in this case and not the other way around.

“I can’t believe Buck didn’t come,” said Curt, finishing off his whiskey. “He knows exactly what I’m talkin’ about. The high guard stance ain’t shit in the ring. It’s all about-”

“Gentlemen!” called a voice from across the pub. “Who wants to hear our 100th canary sing us a song?” The place was filled with the sound of whoops and hollers from nearly every table. Bucky watched you grin at your date–Foyle–and stand up before walking to the piano.

Curt didn’t miss a beat before saying, “Uh oh. Look out boys, you might see Bucky cry. The music really gets to’m.”

“Yeah, the music’s lookin’ like a solid sender in that dress,” said Hambone, earning a round of laughter from the table.

Bucky smiled good-naturedly, used to the ribbing at this point. “Alright, alright, laugh it up. Since when is a guy not allowed to appreciate a beautiful dame, huh?”

"Bucky, you've been eyeing her all night," Jack interjected. "You stare at her more than Douglass stares at that photo of Betty Grable he keeps in his pocket." Another round of laughs. Bucky took a long sip of whiskey as Curt patted him on the back with a grin.

He watched you lean down to speak softly to the pianist before standing up straight and clearing your throat. “Don’t you boys hear enough of me as it is? I don’t know what’s gotten into you; well, I suppose I have some idea,” you said, tapping your nail against someone’s glass to make a plinking sound. The crowd laughed, many raising their drinks. “I’m going to sing an old song, but I asked my new friend Alan here to keep it short. I have a drink of my own I’d like to get back to.”

Next to him, Curt laughed before leaning over and saying, “She might be too much of a firecracker for your sorry ass.” Bucky elbowed him in the arm, making him laugh harder. As the pianist started playing a slow, pleasant melody, Curt leaned in again and said, “Or…she just might be perfect for your sorry ass.” Bucky furrowed his brow and turned his head to look at his friend, who smirked and shrugged. “What? I get sappy when I drink.” Bucky didn’t have time to reply before you began to sing.

I need your love so badly

I love you, oh, so madly

But I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You sauntered between the tables as you sang, the patrons smiling up at you. Bucky preferred when you sang slower songs like this one, the drawn-out notes more sensuous and poignant. As you came within ten feet of his table, you stopped moving. Your eyes met his and lingered for a moment as you continued your song. He was spellbound.

I thought at last I'd found you

But other loves surround you

And I don't stand a

Ghost of a chance with you

You walked back to the piano, leaning elegantly against it as you finished the last line of the song. Applause rang throughout the pub and you nodded graciously before shouting, “How about my new friend, our amazing pianist, Mr. Alan Bennett?” The applause and shouts continued as you said “Thank you; enjoy your evening,” then headed back to your seat.

When Bucky saw you smile once again, genuinely, at Foyle, the spell was broken. No, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of that smile yet, but your shared moment just now gave him a glimpse of hope. You had looked at him differently then, not with contempt or that devastating neutrality from before, but with something else.

Christ, he really was pathetic, knowing that look would be all he thought about for the rest of the night. He deserved the boys’ ragging, as well as another glass of whiskey.

═════ ♫ ═════

You listened to Millie tell an amusing story about an old neighbor back home as you finished your drink. Even though you weren’t currently talking, you noticed Tom stealing frequent glances at you. You smiled encouragingly at him before fanning yourself with a napkin, the heat in the pub somehow having gotten worse.

As Millie continued her story, your thoughts drifted to Major Egan. When your eyes met his grey ones during the song, you were struck by the tenderness and reverence in his gaze. He hadn’t looked at you like a prize, like an object to be used until he grew bored of it. You had held that gaze for longer than you intended; it didn’t change, but you felt like you did.

For that brief moment, no more than five seconds, you were no longer in the pub, but somewhere else entirely. You weren’t sure exactly where you were during this momentary lapse of reality, but you knew you had gotten there through his eyes. You had always heard of getting lost in someone’s eyes, but in that moment, you didn’t feel lost. Instead, you felt as though you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Perhaps you had been too quick to judge him.

Perhaps you should get to know him better.

Perhaps it had just been a man watching a woman while she sang.

All of these confusing thoughts were beginning to give you a headache.

In fact, the noise of the pub seemed to grow louder by the second, and the lights seemed to get brighter. You squinted.

“Honey, are you alright?” asked Millie. You hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking. You gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, yes I’m fine. I think the crowded room is getting to me. I might need to step outside for a moment; get some fresh air.” You scooted your chair away from the table.

Both men stood as you did so. Tom pushed in his chair and came around to your side of the table, looking concerned. “Can I accompany you outside? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Of course. I’d appreciate it, actually.” You looked at Millie. “We’ll be right back.”

As you stood up, you lost your balance and braced your hands on the table, causing the legs to make a loud noise as they shifted. You flushed with embarrassment as multiple patrons looked in your direction, some sniggering to each other. Millie put a delicate hand on your arm. “Are you sure you’re alright? I think we need to head back.”

You waved her off. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m fine. I just stood up too fast. A few minutes of fresh air and I’ll be good as new. Don’t you dare move; this is your one night out. I’m fine.”

Millie continued to look at you with skepticism and concern, but Tom offered you his arm and you took it, walking toward the front of the pub with slow, deliberate steps.

Suddenly, you were outside the pub, still holding on tight to Tom’s arm. You breathed in the night air, hoping it would clear your head. It didn’t.

“Feel any better?” asked Tom.

You looked at him and were alarmed to see that you were no longer outside the front entrance, but alone with him around the side of the building. You couldn’t remember how you got there, but Tom’s arm was still in your grasp. You continued to cling to it, as your dizziness had gotten worse and you were afraid you might fall flat on your face if you let go.

“No, I….don’t,” you answered, having difficulty forming the words. This sudden ailment was clearly something that needed more than fresh air to fix, and you knew it was time to call it a night. Could you really be this drunk? Yes, the gin had been stronger than what you normally drank, but you only had one glass.

Tom looked at you with concern. “I’m so sorry. Are you feeling well enough for the trip back? It would probably be safer to book you a room for the night.” He stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

“I think I’d like to…to go back to base and get in bed.”

“Is that an invitation?” he asked softly, brushing the backs of his fingers down your bare arm.

“Nnnn…no.” The pain in your head was worsening, your mind telling you that you needed to leave. Now.

Tom spoke your name, his voice still soft. “I think that you and I go together so well. You’re incredibly witty, charming, and so lovely.” You felt him stroke the side of your face. You went to push his hand away, but it was gone when you lifted your hand to your face. “I’m curious to see if our compatibility goes beyond the conversational level, aren’t you?”

When you looked at him again, your head spinning with the effort, his handsome face still held the same charm and sincerity from before.

“Tom, I want to leave. Right now!” You wrenched yourself free from his grasp and turned toward the street. Your movements had been too sudden and you stumbled forward, haphazardly throwing your hands out to avoid falling on your face. You closed your eyes and braced for the feeling of asphalt on your palms, but it never came. When you opened your eyes, you saw the dark olive drab of a military uniform and felt strong arms around you. Of course Tom had easily caught you. You prepared to scream for help—

“The hell is going on out here?”

The person who’d caught you hadn’t been Tom. It was that major. He stood with you still limp in his arms, Millie close behind him looking panicked.

He looked at you, then at Tom, then back at you, his expression quickly morphing from confusion to alarm. You must have been quite a sight.

With urgency in his voice, he spoke your name. “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

You stood up, another wave of dizziness crashing over you as Millie rushed to help you. “I think I’m…quite unwell, Mister…sorry, Major…” You looked at him quizzically, his name escaping you. Why couldn’t you think of his name? His face had been in your thoughts constantly over the past few days.

The man reluctantly removed his arms from around you and allowed Millie to support you. “It’s Bucky. But you still only call me Major Egan, remember?” He looked terribly worried, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to address it. Your only concern right now was getting away from Tom and into bed. You were so tired. When you didn’t respond to him, stumbling once more into Millie, his expression changed again to one of fury. He turned toward Tom, who had begun inching his way out of sight.

Bucky moved fast enough to exacerbate your dizziness, grabbing Tom by the lapels of his jacket and shoving him against the wall. “You put somethin’ in her drink? Did you do this to her?” The quiet, menacing calm of his voice was a stark contrast to his violent actions.

Tom had the good sense to look frightened for a moment, before flashing his handsome smile at the seething major. “I was just offering to escort her back to base,” he said. “Clearly the poor thing can’t take her liquor. I didn’t do a damn thing to her drink.”

“Like hell you didn’t,” replied Bucky, before he let go of Tom’s jacket and punched him in the face. Hard. Millie shrieked.

Tom fell to the ground in a graceless heap, his nose bleeding and misshapen. Putting a hand up to his nose, he yelled, “What the hell was-”

“You need to get the fuck out of here right now or your nose won’t be the only thing I break tonight.” Bucky’s fist was clenched, blood on the knuckles. Tom scrambled away and was soon out of sight.

Bucky turned back toward you and Millie. “She needs to see a doctor,” he said to your friend.

Millie let out a sigh and replied with a tired voice. “No, she doesn’t; not right now anyway.”

Bucky gestured furiously at you. “Look at her!” You frowned and looked away.

Millie spoke with a cold gravity you had never heard from her before. “I see her, Bucky, and unfortunately, this isn’t the first time I’ve seen something like this. I know how to help, and I’m taking her back to base. Her symptoms should be gone tomorrow, but she needs rest.”

Bucky said nothing for several seconds, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He said quickly, “Alright. Fine. But if anything, anything, seems off, you take her straight to Smokey, understand?”

“I understand. I’ll take her tomorrow, just to make sure everything’s okay.” Millie began leading you toward the front of the building and the street, with Bucky following close behind. Eventually you were back in front of the pub.

Bucky looked at you, began to reach toward you, then put his hand in his pocket. “Let me take you home. Or would a room here be better?”

You stiffened.

“Excuse me?” you said, your head pounding.

Bucky looked taken aback at your sudden tone. “I just wondered if it would be better for you to get a room here for the night so you can rest.”

Son of a bitch.

You pointed a finger at his chest, missing and poking his shoulder. “You. Is this what you wanted?”

Bucky furrowed his brow and shook his head. “What are you talking about? You think I wanted this to happen?”

“I saw you. I saw you looking at us…looking at mm..me. Was this part of your plan?”

Millie, who had her arm looped through yours, put a hand on your shoulder and said, “Honey, I know you’re confused, it’s not your f-”

“Did you think that you would play the knight in shining armor and that...that I would fall into your arms, overcome with- with gratitude? You thought I would g..go to bed with you?” Bucky shook his head vehemently and opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going. “I knew it. I knew that a dance would never just be a dance with you. I knew it.” You swayed, but Millie tightened her hold on you and you stayed upright. “I knew it,” you said to her.

She rubbed your back soothingly. “Okay, honey. Let’s get you in bed, alright?” She turned to Bucky and spoke so quietly you couldn’t hear her over the noise of the music inside. You watched as Bucky nodded, his lips pressed tightly together. He looked back at you, nothing but concern in his eyes. But that’s how Tom had looked.

Fighting the pain at the front of your skull and the increasing urge to vomit in the nearest waste bin, you let go of Millie’s arm and took a wobbly step toward him. He removed his hands from his pockets, ready to catch you again, but you stayed upright. You said to him in a low voice, “I think you’re despicable.” The major said nothing, still watching you with the same worried look on his face. Inside the pub, you heard the pianist start playing “Blue Skies”, followed by at least two shouts of Bucky’s name. “Sounds like you’re missing your ‘signature song,’ Major. Please, don’t let me keep you.”

With that, you allowed Millie to once again wind her arm through yours and lead you away from the pub, hopefully on a path toward your bed. She sighed. “Don’t worry, I told him you didn’t mean a word you said.” You frowned at her, confused. “I’m so sorry; if I had any idea that Tom was such a…” She sighed again. “Never mind. It does no good to apologize to you now when you won’t remember it. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

As you made your way back to your barracks, fighting sleep the whole way, all you could think of was a slow song and two grey eyes staring into yours.

#guys i wasn't kidding about the tone shift but I promise things will get better!#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john bucky egan #john egan #mota #masters of the air #mota fic #callum turner #reader insert #fanfiction #Spotify

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ithaquasbbg · 9 months

Text

Almost done yay.. then I’ll find myself some more prompts sk I can stay active (I’m proud of myself)

Won’t you stay, my darling? - Ithaqua x reader

Pairing : Morningstar! Ithaqua x reader

Experimented with the idea of a very down bad, and very touch starved Helel here. Also with the idea that under his persona he shows the world, he’s still the same scared young man he was before his exile.

VERY loosely inspired by the song “curses” by the crane wives

….

The king was utterly obsessed with you, to say the very least. From the way your eyes had a lovely shine to them, to your smile that made his heart flutter every time he saw you; a sensation he believed he’d no longer be able to feel. Every single part of you made him weak at the knees, you were his dream. Though, he could never bring himself to say anything. You were like a fire in his mind, per say, and try as he might, he couldn’t put that fire out.

None of the towns men or women could enthrall him the way you did, make his heart skip a beat like you. Every day he spent without you, it was like the fire of longing in Helel’s mind and heart would grow more and more. It was embarrassing to him, the way he, the king of a utopia had fallen so head over heels for a mere commoner such as yourself. The way he was more than willing to forget his position and do everything to please you was humiliating!

But it’s not until he hosts a ball for all the townspeople to attend he speaks to you for the first time. “My, you look quite lovely tonight, my dear.” He muses, corners of his lips peeking up in that confident smile he’d show to the public, eyes hidden from the world by the mask he’s adorned. You look nervous, getting ready to boy to him before you feel a hand gently grabbing your chin, tilting it upwards towards his face. “No need to bow to me, really, just tell me your name.”

All this time of watching from a distance, and Helel didn’t even know your name! Though you didn’t know of his admiration, and seemingly thought he was looking for another person. “I’m (Name), your majesty.” His smile brightens upon hearing your name, mumbling it to himself in a tone that sounds almost adoring. “That’s a lovely name, really.” His remark causes your cheeks to heat up, a smile creeping onto your own face.

By the end of the night, you find yourself in the ballroom with the king after everyone else had left, even his guards. You had only seen him in his speeches, an imposing ruler in those circumstances. Though, when he was here in front of you now, he seemed awkward to an extent, smitten, that couldn’t be towards you.. could it? Helel’s smile never leaves his face, he can think so much clearer when you’re with him, like the flames had calmed down in his mind, though the longing for you still remained.

And that’s why he finds himself reaching for your hand as you turn to leave that night, holding onto it like a lifeline as you look back at him, a curious expression on your face. “Won’t you stay with me, my darling?” He asks, his normal smirk replaced with an anxious, almost pleading look. Though he’s overjoyed when you nod, a soft smile adorning your lovely face that he loves so much. “Is there any specific reason?” You inquire, to which Helel quickly answers, embarrassment visible on his face afterwards; “I don’t want to be alone tonight, please.”

You think it’s a little strange that the king, one who had seemed so fearsome before this, is begging somebody as low as yourself to stay with him. But something about him makes your heart beat faster, gives you the feeling of butterflies every time you see his genuine smile, not just the smirk he shows the world. A maid walks up to you two as he walks you through his palace, a smile on her face as she asks if she could get the two of you anything.

“Just a nice change of clothing for (Name), if you will” he replies, voice hardening a little more in front of her, though there’s still that hint of gentility he doesn’t have to the public when addressing her. She nods and comes back shortly later with some of the finest clothing you’ve ever seen, handing it to you with a smile. “Tell me if you need anything else tonight, my dear.” She tells you, before walking away, likely to tend to her other duties.

Helel shows you to a room and allows you to change. You meet him a moment later when you step out of the attached bathroom, seeing him sitting on the bed slowly undoing the braids in his hair. “Here, let me help with that.” You whisper, not knowing what makes you sit behind the king, hands running through his hair as you undo the braids, listening to the way he hums as you do so.

Though when it’s time for him to sleep, he hesitates, hands over his mask as if he’s afraid to take it off. “You’re alright, my lord, I will not tell anybody what I will see beneath.” You promise him, watching as he slightly calms down, taking off his mask, albeit cautiously. Though you’re shocked to see the soft features of the former prince in front of you, the man who had been presumed dead years ago. “ ..Prince Helel?-” you ask, feeling a finger press against your lips before he takes your hands, moving them so they cup his cheeks.

“(Name), please, just address me as Helel..” he whispers, shaking at the sensation of hands on his face. It’s been years since he’s been touched in this way, handled carefully by anyone. His desire for affection being buried down under a harsh persona he spent years building up, only for it to come crashing down at the hands of you.

You feel yourself acting without thinking, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs as he crumbles even more into your touch. It’s only a matter of time before he’s laying in your arms under the covers, still shaking at the lovely sensation he seems to have missed so much. “…Stay with me tonight, (Name), that’s all I ask..” he mumbles, eyes dropping in exhaustion.

You nod and whisper a quick “good night” to him as you feel Helel slowly fall asleep in your arms. You were still confused, left unsure why the king had attached to you the way he had. While Helel, on the other hand is filled with happiness for the first time in a while, not only to be good enough to be graced with your presence, but to be held by somebody for the first time in forever, to be cherished the way he craved, even if he would have to worry about putting his act back up the next day.

To Helel, you staying with him, easing the burning in his mind for tonight was better than anything, falling asleep in the arms of his Angel.

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v ithaqua #ithaqua idv #ithaqua x reader #night watch #night watch idv #idv

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amusingmusie · 12 days

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Is Evie canon to the Yours Truly universe? I absolutely love her already, and I can only imagine the kind of hell she put poor Nel through growing up. Al would be so proud. Good on Nel for starting a law firm, too! That’s our queen!!!

But also the general heartbreak that Nel must have felt as every day Evie looked a little bit more like the man Nel thought she knew. Just looking at her daughter one day only to see someone completely different but so familiar staring back. :(

I’m also so curious how the realization that Nel was pregnant went down. Not well probably. Was it before or after Al died? How would Al have reacted if he was alive (He very clearly didn’t want kids). How on earth would he have behaved around a pregnant Nel?? Also not well probably.

And of course I can’t forget about the extended family. Where’s Grace, my beloved, in all of this??? The absolute agent of chaos that she is, she and Evie would cause so much havoc — I just know it. And I can’t tell if Marie would be ecstatic up in heaven or rolling around in her grave at the news lol. I’m assuming by this point in time she’d have passed away, but to know she just missed the big news — damn. Poor Grandma Marie. Nobody thought Al had it in him 😔

Sorry for the giant block of text lol. I adore Evie and she’s got my brain in overdrive rn. Your writing is amazing, and Yours Truly is genuinely such a wonderful read! Also don’t feel pressured to answer any of the questions if you don’t want to or if it’s spoiler territory — I just had to get all that off my chest :)

Stay safe out there and take care of yourself!!

No PLEASE send me asks about Evie I fucking love her and barely ever get to talk about her because I've kept her so private for so long!

Evie is "canon" to Yours Truly but not in the way you might think. She is never going to be born, she doesn't exist, but she will eventually have a small cameo in a later chapter. The rest is a mysteryyyyyyy for now. However, I love thinking about the au where she's alive since I LOVE family drama and angst.

The girl is a menace. She's a strange mix of Darla Dimple, Jessica Lovejoy, and Heather Chandler but also can be oddly endearing? There’s a strange innocence to her. Yes, she did stab that man but she hugs her momma extra tight when that haunted look comes over her face. There are a lot of layers to the silly gay girl that VERY few people will ever see let alone notice and process.

If Al was around for Nel actually being knocked up and aware of it, he'd be annoyingly overbearing. 100% he'd treat her like she's made of glass even though she's trying to bite his throat out for being so condescending. It would be a giant clusterfuck of Nel randomly crying cuz her hormones are raging and she’s too big to bend over and buckle her shoes, and then Alastor is staring at her like she’s insane because it’s Nel, crying. They’d make it work though. Well, in another universe at least, because in the drabble-I-posted-verse uuuhh….he wasn’t really around to know that he has a child kicking around on earth.

But heeeeey she and Grace are BFFS! They definitely gang up on Nel together while she smokes 28 packs of cigs with a thirst for blood in her eyes. Little shits of a feather flock together.

If Marie was around, she would SPOIL that child. Her only grandchild, and a little girl??? Whatever Evie desired Marie would deliver and you wouldn’t be able to tell that child no without her granny defending her. It’s probably for the best that they never met since Evie would be worse than she already is.

Thanks for asking more about her cuz I like to yap :D I can't really say too too much since I don't wanna accidentally spoil YT, but man do I adore this strange child of whimsy.

#my asks #shoutout to poor Gem for listening to me holler about this child for so long in DMS

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bitchlessdino · 1 year

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hey, i’m back. recently i’ve been in my chanrot era so if you could please write a daddy kink chan smut i would really appreciate it. also thank you for the he mingyu smut, i was freaking out inside.-🎧

Pairing: bf!chan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, light fluff

Word count: 2.1k

tags: initial reluctance (lighthearted), blossoming established relationship, daddy kink (initially just Chan), slight degradation, reader has tits, mentions of voice kink, asphyxiation, wall sex, pussy slapping, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay

Summary: You've heard of dadless behaior but what is daddy behavior? You found it unlikely that the answer would be right under your nose. Better yet, already balls deep inside you.

author note: hiii, I'm back. and what a way to be back than to finish up a dino request. SK was amazing, everything was new and exciting. I'd be happy to answer any travel questions or if you wanna just pop in my inbox, I’ll graciously respond. I missed you guys <3

P.s. to 🎧 bestie I’m so glad you enjoy Mingyu’s fic and I hope you enjoy this one too!

He had you by your throat, cock plunged balls deep in your cunt, slamming into your cervix with every calculated thrust. A pool of arousal soaked into your bed sheets as your shallow breaths barely escaped. His upper body weight pins you stomach down on the mattress and his gaze falls on you, emitting unadulterated power. Lost in the world he’s created, he feels you shudder beneath him while you desperately call out to him in your beautifully strained voice.

A smug smile hangs low from his lips. “That’s right. What’s my name?”

“Daddy?”

You sputter, coughing on your own loud laughter as your boyfriend stares back at you with an unamused face in part to your reaction. This was how you initially reacted to the request of his suggested name in bed, pale in comparison to the idea of a reaction Chan had in mind when he thought to bring it up to you. He could only huff in annoyance as you doubled over on your stomach in playground laughter.

“Come on. It’s not funny. Just say you’ll try it out with me.” He whines.

“You think begging is daddy behavior?” The teasing persists with tears in your eyes.

He sighs in relinquishment before pulling himself up from the bed, his bare torso feeling the draft of the conditioned air as his eyes glaze over in the direction of the shared bathroom. “Forget it.”

“Wait, Chan.” You stretch out your arm to claim his wrist in your grip. Your laughter falters seeing the genuine disappointment in his eyes, forcing you to render yourself to a calmer manner, aiming to uplift his spirits, “Come on. I’m just playing. Don’t be upset.”

He scoffs, “The love of my life is laughing at me, in my face, how am I supposed to take it?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” you pull him back onto the bed, “Just…daddy? Really?”

“Yes, really. It wouldn’t hurt to try once.” He says in an utterly soft tone, and you feel your hard shell melt all at once.

Chan is many things. A good friend, a doting boyfriend, and an amazing lover (at least from what you could tell since you only started to have sex recently). ‘Daddy‘ was…different from what you were used to, and frankly just seemed uncharacteristic for Chan.

“Aw, love,” you run your hand through his hair, those pretty eyes looking back at you in a brew of longing and lust, “You’re so sweet and sexy as is. It’s…overdone. Why would you want to be called something like that anyway?”

“I’m curious. I mean…your voice is so pretty I wanna hear how you say it.” He whispers, and that alone causes whatever is in your stomach to do flips.

You roll your eyes in defeat, a love-struck grin on your face, and tug his arm to have it buried between your exposed breasts, their warmth causing a flutter in Chan’s chest. You tuck your chin on his shoulder, looking at him wide-eye, batting your lashes at him in keen interest. “Well. If…daddy…could tell me what this entails, I may just be a bit more interested.”

He digs his teeth in his bottom lips, pleased, and takes a hand to the side of your jaw to trace over it. His soft baritone voice drops an octave and his eyes narrow at you, “It can be whatever my baby desires.”

Your eyes glint from the reflection of the sun peaking through the bedroom window and bouncing off the vanity mirror. The corner of your lips turns up in a small smile, “How would me calling you daddy make things anymore different from what we already have?”

His hand smooths over from your cheek to trail over your shoulder and settles on your hips beneath the sheets. He presses his smile against your forehead, ghosting over your skin to do the same to the tip of your nose, just as delicately, and finally tucking them in the pillowy texture of your lips. You purse your lips to deepen the kiss, but he kisses you just as swiftly as he pulls away. He watches you through his heavy eyelids, seeing how your lips twitch at the loss of his presence, silently laughing to himself.

“Cute.”

How quickly he takes you by surprise by slamming back in the sheets, your eyes shooting back open immediately, heart pounding out of your chest. His hips gradually dip into yours, the outline of his bulge imprinting into your thigh, and you feel one of his hands creep down to the thin fabric of your underwear. A corner of his lips perks up feeling your anticipation soak through and create a thin film between the pads of his fingers.

“Wet? So early? I hardly done anything.” He snickers.

You let out a small whine, hand cupped over his cheek, thumbing its texture, “Can’t help it…daddy.”

He rubs into the fabric, tracing along your slit repeatedly until both his middle and index were evenly coated, your hips shifting beneath him, helplessly under his control. He hears how your breathing got more irregular. A shift of focus is obvious within you and you could only do one thing at a time; breathe or enjoy the show. Lucky for you, he’d make it an easy choice.

“Well,” he draws his face close to hover over your ear, smiling wide as he says, “too bad you don’t get to cum.”

He pulls his hands away from your body, sticking his fingers in his mouth and retreating to the bathroom giggling. You sit up from the bed in disbelief, throwing the covers back on your body, “Chan! Really?”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have laughed.”

Chan would be proud to know that you were eating your words. He was all you could think about for the rest of the day. His eyes and their allure, then his arms and their strength. You craved his attention, crossing one leg over the other, suppressing your innermost desires of him feasting on you like thanksgiving dinner. The hours of the day would drone on, and you were counting the second of every minute until you’d finally be reunited back home after a long day’s work.

You needed it, especially from that morning, which would only replay countless times in your mind. Heat running to the apples of your cheeks remembering his musk, you felt a teenager again thinking about their crush as they passed the hallways. It seems as though he was no better as his hands were immediately on you the moment you greet him. Your hips parallel to one another, your wrists pinned above your head against a wall, and his heavy breath ghosting over your jaw. The scene brought a familiar shiver down your back, like a return of an old friend.

“Well, don’t you look pretty?”

The shape of his cock knocks at the surface of your core, gripping your wrists single-handedly, and drawing shapes on your skin with his lips, feeling you swallow from the base of your neck.

“Daddy, please…”

“What,” he taunts, tightening his grip, “what does my baby want?”

You gulp, “Fuck, daddy. I want you so much.”

You spoke from the pit of your stomach, clenching your abdomen as he presses up against you closer, already unbuttoning the top of your slacks.

“What a dirty mouth you have.”

He abrasively tugs them off you, hands slipping underneath your underwear and feel proof of your words. “Fuck, you weren’t kidding.”

The obscenities that’d leave your lips the moment you felt his middle finger dip inside your warmth made Chan prideful. His eyes bore into yours while his fingers worked inside you, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“God, I could fuck you here and you’d be happy about it, wouldn’t you?”

He pours every ounce into his hands, your body uncontrollably sliding erratically over the wall, “Mmh, daddy, yes.”

“Such a good slut. All for me.”

He fucks into faster, the spillage falling to even down his forearm, you achingly gorgeous sounds of pleasure playing surround sound in his ears. He muffles them against his lips, hiking up your legs to embrace him as you leverage against the wall behind you, thrusting his still-clothed lower body into you. God, he wants to fuck you like a used-up rag doll.

“Fuck, daddy…you fingers…”

He slowly their pace, pumping them at controlled force in every interval. His sweat-damp hair reached his eyes, meeting your dumb-fucked gaze, “Yeah, yeah, they good?”

You choke on a breath as you feel him thrust inside deeper, “F-fuck, yes…”

You vibrated around him and he knew he couldn’t take it anymore. He holds you to the wall with his upper body but soon bares his lower body. His length teases your slit before his fingers flick at your pussy so suddenly, causing you to wince with a soft moan to follow.

“You think you can take me up against this wall, like a good little slut? Hmm?” He slaps them again.

“Mm, daddy, please. I want it…I want your cock in me…”

A smug grin takes over before he watches it swallow inside you, pushing his filthy fingers in your mouth, defiling you in both his favorite ends. He drags his mouth over your nipples, hard to the touch, and readily available after your top was the first thing you undressed for him before he put you in such a situation. Squeezing them in a free hand, he mouths over it starved, flicking his tongue and sucking as if he was raging with thirst.

His hands were now knuckle-deep in your mouth, hips lacking in remorse, and your gasping for breath would otherwise be concerning, but in this case, indicated the ravenous sin that took over your body, coating your tongue with your taste. He takes out his hand to wrap them around your throat, watching the sanity leave your body as he fucks you until pure submission. You were more object than human at this point. Yet, you felt so alive.

Your body was not used to something like this. You felt flushed at the touch, ecstasy mainlining in your veins, screaming a name you wouldn’t even say in your dreams, now rolling off your tongue like water flowing through a river. “Daddy, daddy, daddy—”

“I’m right here baby…You’re taking me so fucking well,” he groans.

“Daddy, more, daddy…”

“More? More?” He teases.

“Please daddy.” You spoke from the depth of your throat, feeling him return with more speed, knocking your ass back into the wall.

A manic smile spreads across your face and you gasp out in excitement, clutching around him until you could feel your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Yes, fill me, daddy. I want my pussy full of your cum.”

“You know just what to ask for, hmm? You want daddy’s load inside you?”

“Yes, daddy’s cum, please…”

Chan was growing tired but not of you, never of you. “You think you’ve been good enough for me to deserve it?”

You nod rapidly, “I’ve been so, so, so, so good. I want it. I deserve it.”

“Okay, well you better hold on tight. I have no plans to give you mercy.”

He takes either one of your legs to his side and you oblige, holding on to him as he delivers his promise. Your head knocks back into the wall rhythmically with no delay. His lips plant against yours naturally, harshly claiming your kiss and chewing on your bottom lip to sustain his momentum. Your hands ran through his hair, over his back, clawing at his ass; your orgasm wasn’t far along your path.

Your hips jerk against him, clenching his full length in your walls, vibrating to the kiss, unknowingly dripping so far past his thigh until practically reached his knees. He follows soon after. Thick warmth paints your insides one coat, a second coat, and then a third, but does not stop the man from pushing it deeper back into you, spilling into the floor without a second thought.

He ruts into you until you’re spent, which seems like it’ll never be the case at that point, and even carries you to the bedroom to use you again and again. Chest to sheet, your head being held up by his hand on squeezing the base of your neck, and your ass in the air fitted against his cock and torso. You could practically hear the echo of skin slapping and human suction bouncing off your walls. His stamina felt endless and you loved every restless second. As did Chan, realizing your answer to his questions and demands was a joy like no other.

“Ask again. Do you find this to be daddy behavior?”

“Yes, daddy.”

#dino smut #seventeen smut #lee chan smut #chan smut #lee chan #dino #seventeen #seventeen dino #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #dino fanfic #dino x reader #chan fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n

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gaybitchfx · 1 year

Text

-🍓 Character(s): Albedo

-🍓 Type of reader: M!Reader

-🍓 Category: SFW

-🍓 Warning(s): None

-🍓 Edited: ❌

“Albedo albedo! Guess what!” Klee exclaimed as she ran up to the man who looked at her with a soft smile. “What’s up?” Albedo hummed as he crouched to her height level. “My big brother is coming to visit! I haven’t seen I’m in ages since he travels with our mom!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air with a smile.

“Oh? You’ve never told me about your big brother.” Albedo raised his brows, surprised. “That’s cause he doesn’t like being talked about, duhhh.” Klee giggled as she took Albedo’s hand in hers.

“C’mon! I know where he is since Amber told me someone was looking for me!” And so the two went all the way to Mondstadt to see if you were there or not. “Just know he’s a bit of a shy guy,” Klee added as she looked around before seeing you staring at the statue of Barbatos.

“Y/nnn!” Klee shouted as she ran towards you making you turn around and look at him with a smile, crouching down beforehand as she jumped into your arms peppering your face with kisses and giving you the biggest hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever! How’s mom?” Klee exclaimed as you stood up, holding her like she was a baby, which she still was to you besides being seven years old.

“I saw you only three years ago Klee, and mama is doing just fine.” You said and held your little sister close. “I have SO much to tell you about! Oh oh! This is Albedo, Albedo this is Y/n, my big brother.” Klee introduced you two, and you visibly became introverted. “Hi.” You mumbled as Albedo walked up to the two of you.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Albedo held his hand out for you to shake which you did. Now seeing you up close you were quite the looker. Having the same eyes and nearly the same facial features as Klee allowed him to know you both were related. “Um, could you let go of my hand..please?” You cleared your throat. Albedo hadn’t realized he’s been holding your hand the whole time making him quickly let go and apologize.

Klee looked at both of you with a grin. “Klee, why are you looking at me like that?” You mumbled as you raised a brow. “Oh, nothing, nothing at all!” She giggled as you put her down. “Albedo come with me for a second! Y/n you stay right there!” Klee grabbed Albedo’s hand and quickly brought him somewhere that wasn’t near you.

“Ok.” You hummed, tilting your head to the side a little. “Do you like my brother?” Klee asked as she kicked her foot back and forth and grin on her lips catching Albedo off guard as his cheeks were dusted with light pink. “Of course not, I just met him.” Albedo sighed making Klee squint her eyes.

“Just because I’m seven doesn’t mean I’m stupid Albedo! I saw the way your eyes softened looking at him!” Klee huffed as she folded her arms, offended. “I- I know Klee, I’m sorry.” Albedo sighed.

“Apology accepted. And there’s this thing called love at first sight and I think that’s what you have with my brother! If the two of you do start being together I won’t mind, my brother is always lonely and is such a sweet guy! Besides when he’s really really REALLY upset!” She emphasized the really as she extended her arms. “What happens when he’s really really REALLY upset?” Albedo asked, genuinely curious. “Mass arson.” She answered calmly making Albedo’s mouth slack open slightly.

He couldn’t see such a pretty face twisted with anger, but it was possible. “I’ll go ask Y/n if he wants to go on a date with you!” Klee quickly ran off before Albedo could even get a word out. “Klee! Wait for a second!” Albedo exclaimed as he chased after the small girl, but it was too late she was already near you.

“…date with Albedo?” Albedo heard making his face explode with an embarrassed blush. Your brows raised quickly hearing this before your cheeks began tinting with a very light shade of red. “Sure..” You mumbled, tucking your face into the scarf you wore a little.

“Great! Klee and my friends will help with my big brother's date!” She said and ran off to tell QiQi, Diona, and many others leaving the two of you here.

-🍓tags: @jkloserdazai @reallyromealone @secretivemessenger @lostsomewhereinthegarden

#albedo genshin impact #albedo x male reader #albedo x you #albedo x y/n #albedo x reader #fiction #anime #fluff #male reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x male reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 months

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I see you post some detailed stuff about TWST, so I was curious about what your take is on this.

We know scars are big for Leona and I'm guessing most of the Sunset Savanah, but what do you think about medical scars?

Would they be just as impressive or seen as a weakness?

Hi, are you referring to one of Leona’s Dorm Uniform voice lines? “Back at home, scars are proof of your bravery. I hear the King of Beasts had a big one on his left eye.”

I don’t think my answer to this one needs to be particularly detailed 🤔 In the voice line, Leona doesn’t distinguish between different kinds of scars or between different causes for those scars. He never says anything specific like “scars earned in battle are marks of courage”. This leads me to believe that any scar, regardless of the reason for it, is seen as proof of one’s bravery.

I don’t think medical scars would be arbitrarily discounted because like… it can be genuinely terrifying to undergo a procedure that leaves you with one. That’s why medical professionals are also meant to counsel their patients beforehand—to let them know what to expect and to hopefully alleviate their fears. You steel yourself for it all the same as someone preparing for a fight. You deserve that badge of honor.

I also don’t fully understand where this idea of “medical scars are weaknesses” comes from (although I do realize this stigma may exist in real life 😔)?? These procedures can be literally life-saving or drastically improve one’s quality of life 💦 so to dismiss them as “weaknesses” (even if it was meant only in reference to the realm of a fictional culture) is somewhat iffy to say the very least…

Please do take care to be more mindful when wording your asks. I’m sure no harm was intended from it, but it just… can still come off the wrong way or imply something rude. This can cause discomfort for others (myself included, in regards to the final line of the ask).

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #advice

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pastanest · 1 year

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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @dreatine - thanks so much!! ♡

Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader

Nightmares

A thrashing body in bed beside you wakes you from your peaceful slumber, and your eyes open to complete darkness. Although you cant see anything, you can feel the absence of Spencer’s arms around your waist, which is where they had been, and usually are, when you sleep. Something hits the bed again, and it’s the scared whimper that leaves Spencer’s lips that tells you exactly what is going on. Without any further hesitation, you turn over to face your boyfriend’s side of the bed, and you reach out to touch his chest, using that as your guide as you gently trace a path upwards towards his face, until you can caress his cheek.

“Spence, you’re dreaming, it’s alright.” You whisper, and you can feel his jaw unclench as the sound of your voice reaches him, even in the land of the unconscious.

Leaning closer to him now that he’s not flailing his limbs and at risk of accidentally hitting you in his sleep and then waking up to feel immensely guilty, you kiss his nose. Your hands cup his face and you run your fingers through your hair, a sensation that Spencer has previously described as “the closest thing to heaven” that he thinks he’ll ever experience, and a sensation powerful enough to wake him from his nightmare with a gasp. As soon as his eyes open, he lunges at you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and clinging to your small frame as you fall onto your back.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Im right here.” You coo, continuing to run your fingers through Spencer’s hair with one hand while the other rubs gently circles in his back.

He nods into your neck at your words, and then sniffles. “Just...dont let go of me, please.”

You kiss his forehead. “Wasnt planning on it, love.”

And for a few minutes, you lie with Spencer in your arms, your bedroom silent with the exception of your boyfriend’s hard breathing, which eventually slows to a calm rate.

“Why do you stay with me, (Y/N)?” Spencer blurts out suddenly, his question hanging in the dark.

The absurdity of his question makes you frown, and you answer without having to think about it. “Because I love you.”

Spencer places a soft kiss on your neck at your words before he continues. “But you never complain. Not once after I’ve woken you up like this have you complained about losing sleep, you never make me feel like less of a man when Im upset, you never seem irritated at the amount of times I’ve needed your comfort and reassurance. Logically, over time issues like this would affect you, but they havent...why?”

His genuinely curious and slightly afraid explanation shocks you. Spencer is a man of logic and facts, he’s researched as much as he can into love to gain a better understanding of it, but the fact is, he sometimes struggles to wrap his head around what comes with being in love. And the idea of you being utterly besotted by him baffles him more than anything else.

“Spence, if any of those things bothered me, I wouldnt be loving you. Being in love with someone means that seeing your lover in any unpleasant state causes you pain, and you will do anything in your power to make them feel better. No matter how many times that happens, every time it’s the same pain, and the same determination to help them heal. Loving you is my number one priority, and there is nothing else in this world I would rather be doing.” You reassure him, honesty delicately laced in your every word.

Spencer is quiet at this, and you can practically hear the cogs turning in that magnificent mind of his as he processes what you just told him. But it is more than that, and you can tell, because you can feel his heart pounding as he continues to think about your words. The sniffle that comes from him confirms what you already know to be true: he’s holding back tears.

“Oh sweetheart, dont cry!” You coo, holding him close to you and kissing the top of his head.

“I dont deserve you, I never will.” Spencer chokes out.

You shake your head frantically “Spence, you deserve every wonderful thing you can ever receive, every piece of love I can possibly give you and so much more. Just because you cant see that, doesnt mean that it isnt true.”

Spencer sighs. “You speak in a way that makes it impossible for me to argue.”

Giggling, you kiss his head again. “Good. Do you think you’re alright to go back to sleep?”

Spencer nods into your neck, his voice quiet and getting progressively hoarse as exhaustion takes over every fibre of his being.

“As long as Im in your arms, Im alright to do anything.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #x reader #imagine #imagines #headcannon #fanfic #fanfiction

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sintowinemily · 1 year

Note

Heyyy could you please write a spencer reid fic where he sees y/n stretch marks for the first time xx

hello anon <3 thank you for the request!

pairing: Spencer x gn!reader

summary: Spencer and Y/N share a hotel room after the case, and he comforts their insecurities.

warnings: pure fluff! Mentions of stretch marks, lack of body confidence, body insecurity, no mention of weight or actual body shape

word count: 740

click here to submit your own request!

You and Spencer had formed a close bond while working together the past months, Derek teased Spencer about how he followed you around like a lost puppy; but you chose to pretend like you didn’t hear him. You liked Spencer’s company, and he seemed to like yours. You would be lying if you said you didn’t think of him in a romantic way, but despite Morgan’s teasing, you knew deep down, he didn’t feel the same.

After a long case, Hotch informs the team that they have to pair off into hotel rooms, Hotch shares with Morgan, Emily and JJ share, and Rossi, well of course he paid for a deluxe sweet all to himself, so you and Spencer are left to share. You two had shared a hotel room before, it wasn’t a big deal.

“Hey, Spence. I’m going to take a shower first.” You tell him, gesturing to the bathroom on your left. “Do you mind?”

“No, it’s all good.” He smiles back, holding up some obscure Russian novel he had begun reading while perched at the edge of the bed.

Once you had showered, you unpacked your go-bag only to realise you had only packed shorts and a tank top as pyjamas, you were in the deep south in the middle of summer after all, and it was a million degrees outside. Immediately your heart started to race, you knew you had deep purple stretchmarks across your thighs, and the last thing you wanted was for Spencer to notice and thing badly of it. You shook your head, and thought to yourself, the last thing Spencer Reid will be looking at is my bare legs. You put on your PJs and head out of the bathroom and rush to the bed as quickly as you can, snuggling deep under the covers before Spencer can even look up.

You sit in a comfortable silence for what seemed like forever, Spencer speed-reading his novel, before you realise you’ve started to sweat.

“Is the AC on?” You ask him.

“Broken, I think.” He shrugs, not looking up from his book. He’s already changed into shorts and a Star Trek t-shirt, comfortably sitting atop of the sheets.

“It’s so warm in here.” You groan, staring at the ceiling and trying your best not to think about how warm you are.

“Get out under the sheets you fool.” He laughs and looks down to see you nestled up to your chin in the sheets. “Why are you under there if it’s so warm?”

You don’t reply, and don’t meet his eyes either. “What, are you worried I’m some kind of perv?” He asks, half-joking, half-serious. He doesn’t want you to think badly of him.

“Not at all!” You answer hurriedly, “it’s not that, I promise.”

“Well, what is it?” He’s genuinely curious. You look down at yourself under the sheets and back at him. “You’re not self-conscious, are you?” He doesn’t ask to ridicule you, it’s as though he’s genuinely surprised.

“Maybe.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

“I think you’re beautiful, and I want to see you.” You’ve never seen Spencer so forward; this is so unlike him at work, but you can’t help but blush at the order and cautiously step out of the bed. You trust him, more than anything.

You’re lingering awkwardly next to the bed, feeling his eyes rake across your body. He stops when he notices your stretch marks. “Is this,” he gestures to your legs, crawling across the bed to get a closer look, “what you were so worried about me seeing?”

You nod slowly and he tuts, disappointed. “Don’t you realise how beautiful you are?”

“Am not.” You don’t mean to be coy.

“You know, stretch marks, or striae distensae are caused by tearing of the dermis during periods of rapid growth but can also be caused by hormonal changes. Everybody gets them, but you are more likely if you have a genetic predisposition. Actually, I think they’re amazing.” He rambles, this is more like him.

“You do?”

#spencer x reader #Spencer x y/n #Spencer reid blurb #Spencer reid #criminalminds

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dreamsgazer · 1 year

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OK SO mine isn't really a request because I have ideas but I can't write so they go nowhere and stay in my head because I'm incapable!!! anyway, I was thinking about a situation where reader and tangerine met on the train and they hit off right away like there's something special between them eheh, like they like each other but turns out that they're both on a mission and have the same goal - so they fight because reader steals the WHATEVER IT IS IDK that's in both their interest and manages to get off the train right under tangerine's nose when he was about to stop them, doing so in a fight reader rips tangerine's necklace, and basically breaks it and ultimately keeps it (and fixes it) . just in case. because they like him. genuinely. in fact she's very sorry for ruining the mission of the twins but it's a matter of life or death sooo rip AND they're also indirectly but maybe directly? the cause of the nasty scar tangerine now has on his neck because he risked his life because of this failed mission. and then I mean we all know what happens canonically but we Dont Care do we.... it's all a scar and a memory in the end.

ANYWAY they finally meet again when they're forced to team up by their handlers for another mission and like tangerine and lemon are mad mad because everyone was about to die on that train!! because of reader!!!! duh. also R feels very guilty because all that has happened / could've happened. and tangerine of course is angry because he was losing his life but also because he kinda was disappointed in their behavior and maybe in himself for trusting so easily a person.. anddd idk maybe there could be some angst because I love it and that's it THIS IS SO DUMB AND LONG I'm sorry I know I'll probably look to this request in a while and cringe so bad. but I'm just curious to see how you would continue it, like what do you think would happen, what are the first things they say to each other, how does it evolve things like that 🥰

of course, if you don't feel like writing anything that's totally fine and don't worry at all❤️❤️

p. s. : im sure ive taken the prompt where reader steals / ruins tangerine's mission from other fics as well so kudos to whoever came up with the idea :)

Dear Anon, first of all, thank you so much for your patience. I’m usually slow to answer, and with things being very busy at work I’m even slower. Please, do not cringe, it was awesome to read your ideas, and I was so happy you sent this message. Thank you so much ❤️ , and I hope you enjoy how this turned out!

A Darling Mess

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you groan, letting your head hit the wall behind you. The golden necklace glints between your fingers.

You didn't mean to steal it. You really didn't. You didn't mean to run into the Twins and most certainly didn't mean to hook up with the moustached one in one of the bathrooms on that cursed train either.

More accurately, you shouldn't have wanted to hook up with him, but as soon as the two of you had crossed paths in one of the carriages, you knew it was going to happen. And when it happened it was quick and glorious and earth-shaking, and you hoped you were going to see him again.

Then everything went to shit, you two fought for that damned suitcase - his hands apparently were really good for many different things - and you barely ran away from that train with all your limbs.

Your smartphone buzzes incessantly. It's your handler.

"Where are you?"

It's not like him to sound so distressed.

"Not sure about the exact position, it's an alley near Nagoya station. I think I need a lift."

He tells you about a derailed bullet train and how it seems a lot of people - assassins like you, but still... people - died. One of the Twins as well, according to the info he got. The moustached one. You feel a pang of pain in your chest, which is stupid because he was just a stranger you fucked on a train.

A year has passed. Tokyo has slowly just started to become a mission you will remember with regret for a long time when you find yourself pointing your weapon at Moustache Guy again. While he's doing the same. And his brother is aiming a gun at you as well.

Shit.

You are more surprised to see him most definitely alive than to have him threatening you.

“You owe me a great deal,” he hisses, low and dangerous “You fucked up our mission, stole my fucking necklace, and almost got me killed. Almost got my brother killed as well! Why shouldn’t I murder you on the spot?”

You frown “First of all, the necklace got caught in my jacket while you were using me as a human punching ball. Second,” you add, eyes only quickly flickering on the huge, angry scar on his neck “one of you is going to kill me for sure, but I can guarantee you I will take the other down with me.”

Anger blazes in his eyes and you push further, adrenaline pumping in your veins “Third, asshole, you and your brother here screwed up since the moment you decided to leave the suitcase and the boy you were supposed to escort unguarded! What utterly morons do that?”

A pause and then you decide to further test your luck “Last but not least, I’m sorry you two almost got killed. I can apologize for my part in that, even if it’s a small one. But I won’t accept you blaming me for the rest, Moustache Boy!”

His nostrils flare, and he glares at you. It’s unfair that he looks even more ravishing with that savagery seeping from him in hot waves. Also, you probably shouldn’t get distracted by that, since the danger of being shot is a very real one.

Lemon’s laughter is short, and he nods at you, interrupting the impasse “This one got quite a temper, uh? I kind of see the fascination with the... situation.”

Tangerine snarls an insult at him, but it carries no real venom.

In the end, after some calls from your handler and his reminders to the Twins that they have to collaborate with you on this mission and an offer to triple the pay for all of your messed up trio, guns are put away, hands tentatively shaken, and scowls mostly kept under control.

You know they still blame you for your part in the train debacle. Yet, true to their professional reputation, they carry through the mission. It’s a long one.

Living in such proximity inevitably leads to some kind of tepid intimacy. Lemon is the first one to soften up a bit. He starts to ask you if you want some coffee. He asks you about your favourite book, once he spots you reading it to fight your insomnia. He thanks you after you retrieve a USB pen that will help with the job. And one day he gives you a sticker of some train and tells you that despite everything you are not a Diesel. You are not sure what it means, and Tangerine indeed scoffs at the words, but after that things are a little less tense, between the three of you.

Tangerine slowly stops glaring at you and once he almost compliments your ability in combat, after you knock out a goon that was going to stab him.

The progress is little but steady, and one night, for a hilarious twist of the events, the moon finds you two looking outside the same window, in the little apartment you have been given as a base.

“I’m sorry you got shot.”

He nods at your words, slightly sniffing and making his moustache move over his very kissable lips.

“Thanks,” he hesitates before quickly murmuring his own apology about blaming you and only you “I think my ego got a tad hurt realizing you shagged me just because of a honeypot mission.”

“I didn’t,” it's the quiet murmur that gently interrupts his gruff confession.

He scoffs “I very much think we did it in that bathroom, love.”

“Not that,” you roll your eyes at him “I meant it wasn’t a honeypot mission. I- I did not hook up with you because of work. I didn’t even know you and Lemon were the ones having that cursed briefcase, at the time.”

Tangerine just looks at you, and you look back at him “I have your necklace. It got a bit damaged, but I had a jeweller fix it. I know it’s stupid, but I thought-”

Your voice dies down a bit and you are not really shocked to feel his calloused hand gently cupping your face, making you look at him “What did you think?”

You swallow “I thought I was going to find out where Lemon put your grave and bring the necklace there.”

You feel a tear roll down your cheek, and then another, and another. He kisses them, one by one, his lips lingering on your soft skin, and you sob “I’m so stupidly glad you didn’t die.”

He chuckles against your lips “So am I, my darling.”

You kiss him and he kisses you back, and the morning after Lemon is not surprised to catch you coming out from Tangerine’s bedroom.

Sensing your hesitation, he winks at you “Glad it happened. Be good to him, ya?”.

And of course, you nod back, with all your heart.

#tangerine x reader #lemon and tangerine #bullet train fanfic #bullet train movie #lemon bullet train #tangerine bullet train

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