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#tropical drink name
rinhaler · 5 months
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Not me being an absolute slut for step dad Gojo and Uncle Nanami!?!? 😩 sharing is caring!
-Very Much Embarrassed Anon🫂
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PERHAPS i got carried away but i hope u enjoy this !! luxe write something under 1k challenge: impossible x
warnings: 18+ MDNI, step/incest, fem!reader, step dad!gojo, uncle!nanamin, implied virgin!reader, threesome, vaginal sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, tit sucking, possessive!gojo, daddy kink, praise, pull out method, orgasm denial, noncon photo taking, slight oral fixation, hair pulling, face fucking.
words: 2.7k
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“You know you’re too young for boys, right?” your step-father reminds you, like it’s a mantra he’s told you again and again for years. It isn’t a suggestion or a thought he’s choosing to share. It’s an instruction. “I don’t want you to think because you’re all grown up and going to college now that you can be reckless.”
“I- I know, Satoru.” you smile at him.
Both of your attention is stolen as you hear your uncle, Kento, laugh out a scoff. He tries to conceal it as he ruffles his newspaper and drinks his coffee. You see your step-dad’s brows furrow in annoyance. Or, anger. He looks at you, again, and his expression softens.
“I know you’re a good girl, sweetheart.” he tells you, wrapping his arms around your form and placing a kiss atop your head. Nanami’s eyes peer over his newspaper, locking with yours. A knowing glance to each other before a smirk finds his features. He raises his newspaper, shielding his face completely as he tries to focus on reading.
He lets you go, reluctantly, as you pick up your college bag and grab your phone.
His expression sours as he sees you reach for your phone, smiling at a text message you received. He shouldn’t pry. He knows he shouldn’t pry. But he can’t seem to stop himself as he finds himself leaning across the kitchen island and snatching your phone from your hands. And now he scoffs, scrolling through your messages and looking at the name at the top.
“What did I just say?” he speaks, only an octave away from yelling at you. Your lip wobbles, and he keeps your phone at arm’s length as you try to grab for it. He tosses it towards the kitchen table so Kento can look for himself.
“He was just asking if I needed picking up for my classes, Satoru! You don’t need to worry…” you tell him. Of course this would happen. He’s always been stupidly over protective.
“Well you don’t, do you? That’s what I’m here for. Hell, I’m sure even Nanami would be happy to take you since he came all of this way to spend his off time visiting you.” Gojo reminds you. And you feel a slight pang of guilt at that. You know how hard your poor uncle Nanamin works. He could be on vacation, somewhere tropical, unwinding from the humdrum of his boring office job. But here he is, sitting reading the newspaper and listening to you two argue with each other. “In fact, you’re grounded. I’m keeping your phone and you can forget about going to class today.”
“But—!”
“Don’t whine, I’ll write you a note.” he adds, walking around the counterspace to collect your phone from Nanami. He finishes scrolling, locking it, though he keeps hold of it. “Go upstairs.”
You huff, but grab your bag and do as you’re told. It’s not like he can stop you from being online. You can talk to people on your laptop, after all. Though given the mood he’s in you suppose you’ll have to be stealthy about it.
“You’re too harsh on her.” Kento tells Satoru, earning another disgruntled glance from him. He closes his newspaper and rests an ankle over his knee as he leans back and drinks the remainder of his coffee. “She’s curious, you can’t do anything about that. It’s not like she’ll stay a virgin forever.”
“Tch. Spare me.” he laughs lightly. “You think I don’t know why you’re here? I hear you, you know, when you sneak into her room at night.”
And Gojo revels in how the colour drains from Nanami’s face. He sits upright, his back stiffened straight and he starts to loosen his tie. He should have known, really, it was too good to be true. He should have known he’d always get caught eventually. But by Satoru Gojo of all people?
“I haven’t…” he clears his throat. “It’s not what you think.”
“Sure.” Satoru rolls his eyes. “If I’m bein’ honest… I don’t really care. Who am I to stop you? I’m not blood… like you. Sick fuck.” he laughs, sitting down at the table and looking into Nanami’s panic-stricken eyes.
Your uncle rests his elbows on the table and holds his head in his hands. What is Gojo plotting? Blackmail of some kind, maybe. It’s not like he’s concealed his disapproval for his sisters relationship with him. He’s tolerated him, sure, but he’s a nuisance he thinks his family would be better off without.
“I don’t like this either.” he throws your phone towards the white-haired man and sighs. “But she doesn’t respect you, Satoru. She doesn’t even call you dad. I think she sees you as temporary, so of course she isn’t going to listen to you. Not really.”
“But…” he leans over the table with a smug grin. “She respects you, doesn’t she? Her favourite uncle. I don’t like college guys, I remember what we were like in college, I don’t want her around that.”
“No… maybe she won’t go searching for it if she’s better educated.”
Gojo’s brow quirks in intrigue, a sadistic smile soon follows.
“Who knew a corporate goon could be such a sick fuck, hah?” Gojo laughs, picking up Nanami’s coffee mug for him and walking it to the sink to clean. Nanami rolls his eyes, burying his reddening face in his newspaper again.
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You feel a surge of fear stab through you as you hear footsteps climb up the stairs. You hide your laptop back into your bag and turn on your TV, hurrying to find something to watch as a cover. But when you hear a knock, you relax, Satoru never knocks.
“Come in!” you speak, happily, welcoming your favourite and only uncle Nanamin into your room. Though your heart sinks as your step-father follows, crossing your arms across your chest as you huff and pout petulantly.
“Don’t be like that…” Nanami speaks softly, sitting on the edge of your bed and resting his hand on your thigh. “We need to talk to you. And we want to ask you something.” he continues. Your pout fades, then, a slight feeling of anxiety creeps into you as you wonder if something serious has happened.
And Satoru sits on the edge of the bed, too, his beaming blue eyes almost pierce through your heart as he begins to explain. How he’s just worried about you because he knows from experience how college guys can be. How he’s your dad no matter what and he just wants the best for you. And he thinks you need a little help in the right direction on your journey of self-discovery.
“I know you’re a woman now, sweetheart, but you’re still daddy’s little girl. Yeah? So, let daddy help.”
“He- with what?” you blink at him, dumbly, and the delighted snarl on his face almost chills you to the bone. He doesn’t speak right away, so you look at Nanami. But it’s like he can’t bear to look at you as he sinks his head low with shame. “With what?” you ask again.
 “Well, Nanami said you’re curious. So he’s been fucking you, right?”
“No!” you and your uncle yell simultaneously. Did he really tell your insufferable step-father something so personal?
“I told you, I haven’t slept with her. Don’t tease her or you’ll make things worse.” Nanami clarifies before he focuses his attention on you. “But you are curious, aren’t you? You’re getting attention from boys and you’re enjoying it, clearly. They aren’t good for you though, princess. They don’t know how to treat girls right.”
You hum, softly, as he pushes your legs apart, revealing your pink cotton panties to the two of them as they continue to talk you through their thought process. And the touch of your uncle Nanamin is your ultimate weakness. They both get a live response to his action as your pretty pussy starts to gift your panties with a dark, sticky patch between your dewy folds.
“Boys that age, sweetheart, they don’t know what they’re doing. Do you touch yourself? ‘m sure you do, I’m not naïve enough to think otherwise. But that means you like to cum, yeah? These college guys don’t care about that. They just want a little hole to cum in and defile. And we think you deserve better than that.” Satoru explains, his inquisitive fingers begin to prod at your puffy cunt, though you trap his hand between your plush thighs.
“Satoru…” you respond, bashfully.
“No.” he speaks, grabbing your thighs and pulling you down the bed and towards himself. He looks mad, but there’s no real malice behind it. Still your heart is pounding. “I’m your dad like he is your uncle. I’m not Satoru. Who am I?” he asks, reaching under your skirt to pull down your panties.
“D-Daddy… you’re daddy. ‘m sorry.” you whimper. Your eyes flutter as his long fingers invade your pretty, virgin walls. “Hng—!”
“Gooood girl.” he smiles as he begins to curl them upwards. “I slipped right on in, has uncle Kento gotten you used to taking his fingers?”
“Mhmm…” you blush. The man in question bends down to kiss you.
It’s sweet, though you find yourself grabby and desperate as you follow his lead. He pulls away to undress you, unbuttoning your shirt and then his own after throwing away his tie. He helps you out of your bra, and you instinctively go to cover your nipples as you remember who you’re actually in the company of. But Nanami doesn’t want that. He locks his fingers with yours, holding your hands above your head as he begins to suckle on them until they’re both puckered and raw.
“Sit her up, and sit behind her.” Satoru tells his brother-in-law. And of course he acquiesces. You’re moved like you’re weightless as your uncle sits behind you, his clothed cock pressing angrily into the curve of your spine as he continues to torment your tits. Satoru pulls his fingers out of your cunt and sucks them clean, smiling at how your eyes begin to sparkle with wonder as he puts on such a display. “Do not tell your mother about this, understand?”
You nod, obediently. You wouldn’t dream of telling her something so scandalous. Though it does fill you with a slight sense of pride as your Satoru makes it abundantly clear how desperately he’d longed to be the first person to explore your untouched core. He pulls down his trousers and you moan at his smooth, pink cockhead. Though right now it’s closer to an angry shade of red.
He really is desperate.
You wince, slightly, as he pushes his tip inside. Though he retracts it, coating his head in your wetness.
“Fuuuuck, you weren’t lyin’. You really never fucked her, huh Nanami?” Gojo chuckles as he pushes in deeper and deeper. Nanami slots his fingers into your mouth to suck on as you accommodate to the length. “Relax, baby. Clampin’ so much you’re gonna push me out.” he laughs shallowly, his thrusts matching as he begins to work you open.
“D-Daddy!” you gasp, back arching against Nanami’s chest before he pulls you back towards him.
“We’re so proud of you, princess.” Nanami shushes you, placing a kiss to your temple. You look at him with wide, trusting eyes, though he can’t really concentrate as his own fixate on the way your tits bounce with each thrust Gojo inflicts onto you. “Why don’t you show your dad how I taught you to suck cock, hm?”
“Oh? Now that I’d like to see.” Gojo smiles, pulling out of you briefly. The sound of your sticky walls echoes through the room as he pulls out. The men help you onto all fours, and your daddy slots himself right back into your tight heat. The adjusted angle makes you fall forward, your head lolling as he finds a nice little trigger inside of you. “Oh… there, huh? Okay, baby. I’ll fuck you right there.” Satoru tells you as he begins to fuck into you before slowing down.
Nanami takes his cock out of his briefs, tapping the tip against your swollen lips. They open, obediently, and you lick the precum he’s spilling directly from the source. Your hole flutters as he hisses, enamoured by the sensation.
“Perfect, princess. Such a good little girl for me.” Kento comments, and your heart beats harder. You’re almost robbed of all sense as Gojo pistons his hips into you, and he leans forward to grab your hair and wrap it into a makeshift ponytail.
“Now that I’m thinking about it, Kento, maybe we should teach her how college boys fuck. Since she wanted that experience so badly.” Satoru proposes, and Nanami considers it. He really considers it. And Gojo chuckles at that. “Go on… show her.”
Nanami nods, grabbing the sides of your head and fucking your face like you’re his own personal cocksleeve.
It’s relentless and dizzying and you don’t know how to settle. You can’t possibly as you’re ruined from both ends. There’s no reprieve, there’s no way to relax. You’re trembling and moaning and fuck you never knew sex could be so intense. Nanami is always calm and patient with you. But this isn’t that.
They’ve ran out of patience with you.
It doesn’t matter which way you try to retreat, you’re only encouraging the other one. More of Nanami’s cock down your throat and more of Gojo’s hitting your g-spot.
“W-We’ll have to get you on the pill, sweetheart.” Gojo tells you, but it’s more like he’s telling himself. He knows he can’t cum inside. He can’t, but fuck, he wants to. He fucking needs to. “College guys, they like- leaving their- mark.” he thrusts again and again until he’s on the very brink of blowing his load. But his life won’t be worth living if he knocks his cute little daughter up. His marriage will be over. He’ll lose everything.
And with that, he pulls out and coats your pussy lips with his sperm. The loss of feeling from inside makes you cry out around Nanami’s length, though you still can’t pull away from him as he continues to use your mouth as his own personal toy. You never knew your uncle Nanamin had this side to him.
He’s usually so sweet and patient.
He pulls out, too, depriving you of the taste of his cum and the chance to prove what a good girl you are. Though you take his load beautifully as he shoots soupy ropes across your pretty face. His heart skips a beat as your false lashes flutter and he realises a heavy glob stuck to them.
“College guys, sweetheart, might take pictures of you like this.” Satoru pulls his phone from his back pocket and takes a few photos of your quivering cunt. You’ve been neglected in the worst way, and it’s dawning on you now what he had meant by giving you the college experience. He tosses his phone to Nanami, encouraging him to do the same. Your innocent and betrayed face is captured so perfectly through the lens of the phone, Nanami’s pearly seed is the perfect colour for your complexion.
“College guys would send these around to their friends too, you know.” Nanami warns you.
“But we’ll just keep these between ourselves.” Satoru promises you. “I think it’s only fair we didn’t let you cum this time since you were so intent on disobeying your daddy.”
“I think she’s learnt her lesson, though, Satoru.” Nanami speaks, pulling your hair so that you can look up at him and he can identify if you dare to lie to him. “Fucking college boys doesn’t sound that fun anymore, does it? Say sorry, princess. Your dad might let you cum next time if you’re a good girl.”
You sniff, and hiccup, unsure of where to look.
“’m s-sorry, daddy.” you sniffle, Nanami releases your hair and allows you to look back at Gojo, a wild grin on his face.
“Awe… sweet.” Gojo smiles, circling the bed so he’s standing beside Nanami, both of their eyes bore down at you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “I think we’re owed a thank you, we took the time to teach you such an important lesson, after all.”
“T-Thank you,” you sniff, again, “Thank you, d-daddy. Thank you, uncle Nanamin.”
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© 2023 rinitxshi
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Ricky Martin - La Bomba 1998
Puerto Rican singer-songwriter Ricky Martin began his musical career at twelve as a member of Puerto Rican boyband Menudo. His solo career started in 1991, and his third album, A Medio Vivir (1995), helped him rise to prominence in European countries.
"La Bomba" was the third single from his fourth studio album, Vuelve (1998). The album earned Martin his first Grammy Award. The song's title, which translates to "the Bomb" in English, is derived from the Afro-Puerto Rican dance music of the same name. Lyrically, it is a metaphor in which Martin compares the bomba music "to a drink that makes you drunk; the listener is high from the rhythm of the dance".
"La Bomba" is one of Martin's most commercially successful songs in his career. It was a top-five hit in Central American countries, including Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Nicaragua. The song peaked at number 27 on the US Billboard Hot Latin Tracks chart while in the same week, the song peaked at numbers 11 and 13 on Billboard's Latin Pop Songs and Tropical/Salsa charts, respectively. In Spain, it reached number five, giving Martin his second top-five hit in the country, following his 1998 chart-topper hit, "La Copa de la Vida". "La Bomba" also peaked in the top 40 of several non Spanish-speaking countries, such as Australia and Sweden. It won the award for Best Danceable Tune at the 1999 Premios Eres.
"La Bomba" received a total of 85,3% yes votes!
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roosterforme · 8 months
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Do You Wanna Touch Me? | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.
Warnings: Fluff, swearing, age gap, and smut
Length: 5800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written for my Top Gun Rocktober playlist! Check out my masterlist for more!
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"Oh, my god," you whined softly, drying and polishing the rack of pint glasses in front of you as Rooster Bradshaw came strolling into the bar. "Fuck me," you sighed, barely able to keep your eyes off him as you fumbled one of the glasses.
"Yeah, you'd like that," Lizzy said with a laugh as she cut up some lemons before the Friday evening rush.
You didn't even know you spoke out loud. That's how much of a ridiculous crush you had on that big, sexy man. But he strolled right past you on his way to the pool table, barely even sparing a smile in your direction. 
"I really would," you told her, watching the flex of his bicep as he high fived Hangman. It wasn't like your coworkers didn't know you had a thing for Rooster. You'd been working here for six months, and you'd been crushing on him since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there.
He still occasionally called you Babydoll. He never called Lizzy or Jasmine by a pet name. Just you. And you held onto that little glimmer of hope that it meant something. That maybe one day, he'd look at you as more than just one of the bartenders.
"What's wrong with you?" Jas asked, waving a hand in front of your face. But then she looked where you were staring, and she asked no further questions. "Oh. Rooster's here."
"He sure is," you added, forcing yourself to focus on the customer in front of you who looked impatient for a drink. As you finished pouring him some tequila shots, you looked up eagerly, and Rooster met your eyes. It had been a solid week since you'd seen him, and he just always looked so good.
You pushed the shot glasses across the bar and collected payment, trying to stay as cool as you could. Because Rooster was heading your way now in his snug vintage wash jeans and bright tropical shirt. 
"Hey, Babydoll," he rasped, and your whole body clenched with need as your eyes fluttered closed. When you met his gaze again, he was leaning on the bar, closing in on your personal space. 
"Hey, Rooster," you replied, sounding a lot calmer than you felt. When he smirked and looked down at your shirt, your heart pounded even harder. Your name was embroidered on your Hard Deck top, just above your breast. He knew your name, but he always called you Babydoll anyway. So was he just simply staring at your tits?
He cleared his throat and asked, "Get me a beer? Please?" 
"Am I starting a tab?" you asked, reaching for one of the pint glasses you'd just finished cleaning. He responded by humming and sliding his credit card across the bar. He held eye contact with you while you expertly pulled the perfect pint of his preferred beer. The way his lips parted in a soft smile that matched yours, the twitch of his mustache...it all felt like foreplay that had been going on for months.
"Thanks," he muttered when your fingers brushed against his. He winked at you before turning back to the pool table, leaving you with his credit card and a desperate need inside of you.
As you set up his tab, Jasmine ran her hand along your lower back so you wouldn't bump her as she walked behind you. "Why don't you just invite him to join you in the bathroom and fuck him out of your system?" she joked. 
"Because," you sighed, "that would only make me pine harder. Getting a small taste of him would be worse than nothing at all."
"Oof," Lizzy replied. "You're a mess over Bradshaw."
"I wonder how old he is?" Jas asked.
You hummed and shrugged, watching him drink his beer across the room while you shook a vodka martini. "Gotta be at least thirty five."
"Ask him," Lizzy said. "Next time he comes over, ask him how old he is."
Your cheeks were warming up. He was bending at the waist, playing pool, and you were taking way too long to serve this martini. "No. What if he thinks I'm being rude? Or worse...what if he catches on that I like him, and he shuts it all down."
"Fine," Jas said, uncapping some ciders. "Next time Rooster comes up, I'll wait on him."
But that really didn't sit well with you. Rooster always came to you for his drinks, anytime he could. You liked that about him. You liked his attention. Jas wouldn't pour his pints quite as well as you could. You knew so well how much foam to let spill and how close to the top of the glass you could get. You loved pulling those pints of lager for him. And you loved pouring him bourbon when he asked for that instead. You knew which brand and that he liked it neat. You didn't have to ask. He didn't have to tell you.
No, you should always be the one to wait on him. And when he finished his pint and strolled back up to the bar after Phoenix beat him at pool, you stepped in front of Jasmine. "I got it," you said confidently, and Jas walked away chuckling. This time Rooster eased himself down onto an empty stool between two women who looked at him like they'd just won the lottery. But his eyes were on you. 
"Lager or bourbon?" you asked, and you were rewarded with those perfect, white teeth and his deep laughter. 
"You got everyone's regular drinks memorized?" he asked as you reached for his empty glass. But he didn't let you take it. He kept one hand on the glass for a few beats while your fingers met his. 
He was making you feel bold tonight. He was even more gorgeous up close like this, with a few gray hairs at his temples and some laugh lines around his eyes. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile faltered when you said, "No, Rooster. Not everybody's regular drinks. Only the hottest guys. Lager or bourbon?"
He grunted and swallowed hard. "Dealer's choice." Then he finally let you take the empty glass, and it was a good thing, too, because you needed to turn away from him. You took a few extra seconds to reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey. Your nipples were hard, your skin felt like it was on fire, and you were turned on just talking to him.
When you turned back to face him, his gaze was neutral again. You uncapped the bourbon and poured it for him, neat. 
"Thanks," he murmured, moving like he was standing to leave. 
And then your mouth worked before your brain, and you said, "Anytime, Sexy."
You watched him pause halfway out of his seat, his eyes dipping down to watch you nervously lick your lips. If he left for the pool table, you really were going to have to let Jasmine wait on him next time. Embarrassment flooded your veins, leaving you uncomfortable with a sheen of cold sweat on your neck. But he eased himself back down onto the stool and kept his eyes on you. "Alright. Babydoll."
You laughed softly, pulling out some glasses for the woman who wanted two cosmos. Rooster sipped his bourbon and kept his focus on your face and your body. He grunted as you took a shaker in each hand, and as you poured them out at the same time, he asked, "What's your favorite drink?"
He was hyper focused on you now, leaning in just the slightest bit further as you served both pink drinks. "To have or to make?" you asked, taking more orders.
"Both. I want you to tell me both."
You smiled at him, and he matched it right away. "Nothing is more fun to make than an expertly crafted Bloody Mary, but those are best as breakfast cocktails."
He nodded, accepting your answer, and then he asked, "And what do you order when you go out?"
You shrugged. "I don't often get to have someone make my drinks for me, but when I do, I usually order a Manhattan."
"A Manhattan?" he asked, balking at your answer. "How fuckin' old are you, Babydoll? People in their seventies drink those things!"
"I'm twenty three," you told him, laughing so hard you were doubled over. He looked delighted when you were finally able to stand up straight again. Your smile was still bright as you leaned on the bar until you were only two feet from his face and softly asked, "How old are you?"
The song on the jukebox changed as Rooster rubbed his mustache and said, "I'm a lot older than you are." His little self deprecating laugh just made you want to get closer to him. He looked amused by you and also resigned to the fact that he thought his age was something you wouldn't like about him.
"How old?" you asked again, biting your lip. 
His brown eyes found your mouth, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. Oh god, you wanted him to, so badly. "I'm thirty eight."
You hummed softly as Phoenix came to stand next to him, and you started to get her favorite kind of beer ready. 
"You coming back to the pool table?" she asked Rooster, but he just grunted something about needing to finish his bourbon first. When you handed Phoenix her drink, Rooster told you to put it on his tab, and he looked relieved when she walked away.
"Thirty eight," you said, watching him down the remainder of the drink in his glass. "That's why you're so good at flirting? You've had time to practice?"
He coughed a little bit as he set his empty glass down on the bar top. "Babydoll, I'm fifteen years older than you."
"So?" you asked, pulling another perfect pint for him. "You don't want to flirt with me?"
"Now wait, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just surprised you don't want to flirt with someone your own age."
"I don't like boys my age," you told him fearlessly. "I like men."
"Oh, hell," he groaned, taking a long sip of his fresh beer. "Just look at you. You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you don't find a nice guy."
He looked flustered now. You were making Lieutenant Bradshaw flustered. His cheeks were pink, and he kept sipping his beer, avoiding your gaze. He looked adorable and boyish, and you didn't know quite what to do about this. Or about the fact that talking to him was making you wet. 
"Hmmm," you hummed, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Are you a nice guy?"
"Fuck," he groaned, adjusting himself in his seat. "Sometimes."
"You're always pretty sweet to me," you whispered. "What's it like when you're not a nice guy, Rooster?"
You wanted to touch him for more than a few fleeting seconds. After six months, you thought you were going to. His long, thick fingers were just resting there in front of you. But then Fanboy came to the bar and asked you to close out his tab. And then you had to help Lizzy pour a massive round of shots. And then when Rooster asked you to close out his tab as well, you did it with a pout on your lips. 
As you slid his credit card, the slip he needed to sign, and a pen across the bar, he smiled at you. "Aww, come on. Don't give me that look. You know how it is."
"I don't, actually," you replied, watching him sign the credit card receipt for you. "How is it?"
He looked up and studied your face. "You're too perfect to mess with, Babydoll. Too young. Too pretty to touch."
You chewed on your lip and squeezed your thighs together. You had to know. Your voice was soft and unsure as you asked him, "Do you wanna touch me?"
He didn't meet your eyes again as he scribbled on the receipt and then left it and the pen for you to collect. He stood up from his stool, gave a quick salute to his friends and then headed for the door. 
You moaned helplessly. You blew it. He thought you were just a kid, and you never stood a chance. And now he'd probably never even look at you again. 
But when you picked up the receipt, you read one word written there under his name. YES.
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When you strolled into the bar the next evening, you got right to work. You had no idea if Rooster would show up, and you weren't sure if you even wanted to see him or not. You'd torn off the bottom of his credit card slip and taken it home with you. That little scrap of paper on which he'd admitted he wanted to touch you was hanging on your bedroom mirror. But it was the fact that he was probably never going to touch you, even though he was more than welcome to, that was making you frustrated. 
"What's wrong with you?" Lizzy asked as she arrived a minute later. "You look hot."
You glanced down at your Hard Deck top, denim skirt and beat up sneakers. "I look the same as I always do," you told her, continuing to dump buckets of ice into the cooler behind the bar. 
"Maybe it's your makeup," she replied. "I think you're hoping Rooster comes in tonight."
You rolled your eyes. "I always hope he's going to be here. He's pretty. I like looking at him."
"I'm not going to dispute that," Lizzy said as she cut up the lemons again tonight. "But I think you actually like him. Not just the way he looks."
You didn't respond, because it didn't matter. You'd keep the flirtation to a minimum the next time you saw him. The last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were desperate. He wanted to touch you? He could go right ahead. But you weren't about to beg him to.
As the bar got crowded, Jasmine showed up as well. The three of you got into a nice rhythm. A lot of the aviators were back again tonight, and you were serving them drink after drink. And then it was like you knew he was there before you saw him. After you handed a couple their drinks, your eyes automatically shifted toward the doorway, finding it filled with Rooster's big body. And he was already looking at you. 
"You want me to wait on him?" Lizzy asked you softly as Rooster approached the bar. 
But you just shook your head and reached for two different glasses, holding them up as he took a seat in front of you. When he pointed to the pint glass, he said, "Lager. Please."
"Sure," you replied, setting the smaller glass aside and pulling a perfect pint of beer for him. "Start a tab?"
"Nah, I'm not staying long tonight," he told you as you placed the beer in front of him without meeting his gaze. "Just wanted to see you and get one drink."
"Mmkay," you said. But when you pulled your hand away, he reached for it. 
Stunned, you let him take your hand in his large one, and then he asked, "Does this mean you're done flirting with the old man now? You got it all out of your system yesterday?" His eyes were guarded, cautious, and he held onto your hand, expecting an answer. 
You shook your head slowly, running your fingertips along his rough calluses. "I was just getting started."
A crooked little smile danced across his lips. "I am too old for you, Babydoll. And it's a shame."
Your heart jumped in your chest, hand still tangled up with his on the bar top. You could hear Lizzy and Jasmine working extra hard to take all the orders, trying to give you a moment here. So you smiled back. "You think you're old. So what? You expect me to call you Daddy?"
"Shit," he grunted, squirming a bit in his seat but keeping your hand in his.
When he didn't respond right away, you leaned a little closer, one eyebrow raised. "I asked you a question."
His eyes were wide, and that little grin was back. "I could be a... Daddy. Maybe for the right girl."
You pulled your hand free of his and planted both palms on the bar top and leaned closer to him. "And just how is a girl supposed to know if she's the right one?"
But his cheeks were tinged with pink once again, and he looked flustered. It was flattering, such an ego boost. You were the one who made him like this. But he wasn't responding now, and you needed to help Jas pour some chardonnay for the impatient ladies at the end of the bar. You sighed and said, "Well, I work until eleven. So just think on it."
But he wouldn't let you leave. Rooster reached for your hand again, but this time he was the one leaning closer. "The right girl would be one that I can't seem to stay away from. You said you work until eleven?"
"Yes," you replied softly, his large hand completely covering yours on the bar top.
"Right. Then ask me again if I want to start a tab."
You pressed your lips together, trying not to giggle. "Would you like to start a tab, Rooster?"
"You're damn right I would, Babydoll. I can't get enough of you. Think I'll just hang here until eleven. If that's okay with you."
This time you did giggle. "Yeah. That's okay with me." As he pulled his wallet out and handed you his credit card, you asked, "Bourbon or lager?"
"Make it a Manhattan."
"I've been told these drinks are for people in their seventies," you said with a straight face as you reached for the vermouth, secretly pleased he wanted your favorite. "You're only thirty eight."
"Listen," he said, watching you fix his drink. "You said you don't like boys your own age. And maybe I'm a little older than you, but all the parts are still in working order."
You felt giddy. When you set the glass down in front of him, you couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you'll let me take you for a test drive?" 
You had to work to keep an innocent expression on your face as Bradley's blush deepened. He took a sip of his Manhattan, licked his lips and said, "I don't do test drives anymore."
"Oh," you said with a little pout. "You don't?"
"No," he replied a bit cautiously, taking another sip of his cocktail. "I'm getting too old for that. I like at least a little bit of commitment from the driver. Don't wanna feel like I'll get dinged up."
You shivered at his words, mesmerized by his voice and his demeanor as he looked down into his glass. Could you do more than a test drive? Of course you'd thought about it. You were crushing so hard, you'd imagined what it would be like if he was your boyfriend. But you'd barely even let yourself hope for a one night stand. Even that much seemed too good to be true.
"Oh," you said again in a softer tone. When he glanced up, his dark eyes were no longer guarded, and he was looking at you warily. Without giving it much thought, you pushed up onto the bar and leaned until he met you halfway in a kiss. It was just the softest brush of your lips against his. But the sound he made and the prickle of his mustache on your skin left you wide eyed and out of breath as you eased yourself back down. "No. You're too handsome to get all dinged up. I'm a great driver."
"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "I can already tell. And that's what I was afraid of last night. There's just something about you, isn't there?"
"You have a thing for me?" you asked him, gripping the edge of the bar top. "Because I definitely have a thing for you." You had stopped breathing now, and your heart was pounding in your ears. 
With a little grin, he said, "Yeah, I do, Babydoll."
"Well, what are we going to do about it, Daddy?" you asked with another giggle as Jasmine thrust a bottle of prosecco into your hands. 
"We're going to go out my Bronco the minute your shift is over. We'll figure it out there." 
You nearly dropped the bottle when you met his eyes. "A quickie?" you asked softly, but you were sure he heard you.
"No," he groaned, running his big palm along his mouth and shaking his head at you. Then he finished the rest of his Manhattan in one gulp and pushed the glass your way. "Nothing about this is gonna be quick. I'd like to take my time, especially with someone as perfect as you."
You sounded like a feral animal, thighs clenched together and gripping the bottle of prosecco with both hands. 
"Shit," Rooster grunted. "You're making it hard to just sit here, Babydoll."
"Hard?" you asked with a grin. 
"You'll find out."
After another embarrassing noise, you had to excuse yourself to the other end of the bar for a few minutes. Jesus, you needed to keep your job, after all. But his eyes followed you everywhere. Any time you looked his way, he was transfixed on you. When you pulled a pint of lager and set it down for him, he whispered, "Thanks, Babydoll," sending shivers along your skin again. 
"Anything else you want, Rooster?" you asked him sweetly. 
His gaze dipped down to your chest before returning to your face. "Nothing I'm allowed to have inside the bar."
"At least not when we're open to the public, sir," you replied, giving him a little salute that had him reaching for you across the bar. But you managed to skirt away from his grasp with another laugh. 
"You coming back over here?" he asked between sips of his beer. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you'll make me a Bloody Mary for breakfast tomorrow morning."
"Breakfast?"
"Yeah. Breakfast," he confirmed with a smile. "At my place?"
You pressed your lips together to keep from screaming. "So since this isn't a test drive, what are my options, exactly? Am I looking at a lease? A financing package?"
"I'm sure you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. And I'm going to need you to stop saying package right now."
"Just go," Jasmine told you suddenly. "It's after ten, and you're useless. You and he have had hours of foreplay already. Go."
"Are you sure?" you asked, already reaching for your bag and Rooster's credit card.
"Yes," Lizzy confirmed. Then she looked at Rooster who was already standing up and told him, "Pay your tab next week. And get her out of here."
"My pleasure," he rasped, and you practically ran for the opening in the bar, ducking underneath the counter. And when you stood up again, he was right there. He was so tall and broad, and with a coy smile, you slipped his credit card into the pocket of his jeans. When your fingers trailed closer to his zipper, he grabbed your wrist gently. 
"Just checking for myself to make sure all the parts are working," you mused as he raised your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. In the middle of the crowded bar. Then he wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss. 
He kept it pretty clean as he promised, "Wait until we get outside."
"Now," you demanded, pulling him along behind you by his shirt collar. As soon as the cool, night air met your hot skin, he had your bare thighs in his hands, and your back was pressed against the side of the building. "Oh my god," you gasped. Your body was pinned between the siding and Rooster, and the rough denim of his jeans was rubbing you deliciously through your underwear. 
"I told you I'm not going to rush," he whispered, pressing into you as you held onto his shoulders. He teased you with that delicious mustache and his lips on your neck before he kissed your ear and said, "Now, I'm gonna need verbal confirmation, Babydoll."
"Yes!" you nearly shouted. "Everything!"
He chuckled next to your ear and asked, "You wanna fuck in my Bronco?"
"Yes," you moaned so loudly, you were sure Jasmine and Lizzy could hear you. 
"I don't have any condoms with me," he said, looking you in the eye. "Do we need them?"
"No, I'm clean, and I take the pill," you said, leaning in to kiss his lips. He tasted you, running the tip of his tongue along yours before pulling his lips away. 
You whined for him, but he was undeterred. "I need you to tell me that you'll come home with me and make me that Bloody Mary in the morning while I make you breakfast."
He already wanted you to sleep over with him. He wanted to make you breakfast. He didn't want to have a one night stand. He was waiting for an answer. "You'll have to let me know if you want it traditional or extra spicy."
"Fuck," he grunted before his lips came crashing against yours. His big hands held your thighs wide as he rolled his hips gently against you. 
"Rooster," you moaned against his lips as he let you gently slide down his body until your feet hit the ground. 
"Please call me Bradley," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your waist and quickly guided you across the dark parking lot. 
When you saw the Bronco, you ran the last little bit hand in hand. His laughter mixed with yours as he unlocked the door. "Come on, Bradley," you sang, looking up at him over your shoulder before climbing up onto the driver's seat on your hands and knees. "Do you wanna touch me?"
"Babydoll," he moaned, keeping you still as he guided your skirt up over your butt and around your waist. You cried out as he kissed the backs of your thighs. He slipped his fingers inside the thin strips of lace fabric that made up your thong, and you couldn't ever remember being this turned on before. 
"Bradley!" you gasped loudly when his lips and tongue met the globe of your rear end. He slid the lace to one side and kissed your slit from behind until you were panting. You might cum. You might actually have an orgasm on your hands and knees with your ass in his face. Boys your own age couldn't get you like this no matter what they did.
He gently swatted at you before palming your ass and saying, "Get in the backseat."
Oh yes. He was about to show you what else his age and experience had to offer, and you were already shaking with need. "Yes, sir," you whispered, and you heard him mutter a string of obscenities as you scrambled onto the backseat. As he slid the driver's seat forward and climbed in the back, you carefully pulled your underwear down your thighs. He helped you and then pressed the lace to his nose before pulling you onto his lap. 
"I've thought about this so many times when I touched myself," you blurted out as he teased your clit with his thumb. "Bronco sex," you whined, head tipped back, enjoying the perfect pressure he applied to your body. "Bronco sex with Bradley Bradshaw."
"Forgive me, Babydoll," he whispered, voice harsh. "But last night was the first time I jerked off thinking about you. Too afraid to go there before that, thinking there was no way in hell you'd want me."
"I want you," you swore, meeting his eyes in the near darkness. If anyone else was out in the parking lot, you couldn't see them. And you didn't care if they could see you, because he was slipping one thick finger inside you. "Wanted you for so long. Months and months."
"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, sliding your snug top up to your chest as you rode his hand. "And you skipped a bra tonight like a good girl."
"Bradley," you gasped as he cupped your bare breast in his big hand. He lazily swirled his thumb around your nipple before bending to take you into his mouth. "Oh my god!" 
Your orgasm was already building. You had only been in the backseat with him for a few minutes, and he was still fully clothed. But now you were riding two fingers, and his thumb was delicious against your clit. As he licked and sucked on your breast, you started to clench. 
"Damn," he muttered against your body. "Already?"
You just nodded before guiding his lips up to yours, and you came as you moaned loudly against his mouth. "Bradley." You raked your fingers up into his hair and kissed him. He was hard through his jeans, and when he withdrew his fingers, you felt them trail up your body. 
"You're so pretty," he whispered, pulling your top over your head. "You'll look even better in my bed."
You wanted him to fuck you here first, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't already thought about his place and what he might make you for breakfast. And as you sat straddled his hips in nothing but your skirt up around your waist and your sneakers on your feet, you felt adored by him. He was kissing a trail down between your breasts and rubbing his thumbs along your thighs. 
"Bradley," you whined, rubbing your pussy against his jeans, already feeling a little wrung out. "Please."
The street light at the corner reflected in his eyes, letting you know he was looking at your face as he raised his hips and unzipped his jeans. And a few seconds later, they were down around his knees along with his underwear. Your lips met his as you felt the velvety soft tip of his cock resting against your core. As you kissed him and tugged on his hair, he throbbed for you. And suddenly you weren't in such a hurry either. 
"Let me make you feel good," he whispered, and as you slid down around him, Bradley guided you with his hands on your hips. "You're so wet, my god."
"You always make me wet, even when you just talk to me at the bar," you admitted softly, your voice shaking as he kept pushing deeper inside you. "Oh. You're huge."
"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing where he was. But you just shook your head and rolled your hips slowly until he was completely inside you. He kissed you softly as you gasped and got used to him. "I don't wanna hurt this sweet pussy," he whispered next to your ear. "Perfect."
And then he brushed his knuckles along your clit and leaned his head back, watching as you rode him. "Take it off," you gasped, and he let you push his shirt down his arms and pull his tank over his head. You explored his broad chest with your hands and his shoulders with your lips. He was warm and rough and oh so sweet. His chest hairs brushed against your nipples as he guided your hips with his hands.
"Bradley?"
"Hmm?" 
You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips. "Fuck. So good." He felt delicious, his big hands everywhere, sliding up to span your back and keep you close. He fucked you in long, fluid movements that just got faster and faster. His pubes were coarse against your clit. His little grunts and words of praise kept you going as you started squeezing around his cock.
"Don't stop, Babydoll," he coaxed as you got closer. When his lips met your sweat slick chest again, and he pulled your nipple between his teeth, you came for him.
"Oh!" 
As your legs shook and your fingers went loose in his hair, Bradley fucked up into you until you were screaming his name. 
"Good girl," he grunted, and suddenly you were on your back along the seat with your legs spread wide. He fucked you with long, hard strokes that made your tits bounce and prolonged your orgasm. His lips were everywhere, and you were surrounded by his voice in the dark, holding onto his biceps as he came inside you.
You scrambled to get your mouth on his as you both caught your breath together, and as your heartbeat started to return to normal, you pressed a dozen soft kisses to his lips, one after the next. "Will you take me home?"
His hands stilled on your thigh and your neck. "Yeah," he said with a tone of sadness. "I can drop you off at home."
When he started pulling away without so much as another kiss, you reached for him, keeping him firmly inside you. "No, no. Take me home with you, Bradley."
"My place?" His voice was still soft, but it sounded hopeful now.
"Of course," you reassured him, and his kisses returned. "I'll spend the whole morning tomorrow making you Bloody Marys with little heart shaped garnishes."
He smiled against your lips before he said, "I'd like that, Babydoll."
---------------------------
The Hard Deck was pretty busy the following evening, and you were so physically exhausted from your night with Bradley, you could barely keep up. The Sunday crowd was keeping you on your toes, and Jasmine wouldn't stop asking you how your night ended. 
"Did you go home with him? You did. I can tell," she said as you just shrugged at all of her questions. "Are you going to see him again? Come on! Tell me!"
When you saw movement on the other side of the bar top, Jasmine's eyes went wide. "Hey, babydoll." The deep rumble of his voice was so distinct, you didn't need to look at him to know it was Bradley. He had whispered dirty, sweet things in your ears all night and all morning. You knew the sound of his voice by heart now.
When your eyes met his, you reached for a pint glass and filled it with his favorite beer. "Hey, Bradley. Wanna start a tab?" you asked with a soft smile.
You giggled as he reached for your hand and tugged you closer. Then he leaned across the bar and kissed you as his nose brushed against yours. "For you? Always. And don't close the tab until your shift ends."
---------------------------
No more test drives. I'm sure she's already considering her options to make him hers permanently. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32. Also, the pretty banner was made by Mak!
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3K notes · View notes
rheya28 · 8 months
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Club Tropics [ Nightclub + Restaurant] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC
Welcome to Club Tropics, a place to let loose and dance the night away under tropical neon lights! Club Tropics is an exclusive nightclub known for its DJs and tropical-inspired food and drinks. The main nightclub is located on the ground floor, which has multiple bars and seating and, of course, a dance floor. On the second floor, there is a restaurant that overlooks the nightclub.
This is another multifunctional lot that can be set as a nightclub or as a restaurant. Once again, I suggest downloading LittleMsSam's Lock Door mod in order to lock doors in commercial lots and if you wanna lock one or the other OR just leave it as it is.
READ ME ♥ Please make sure to turn on bb.moveobjects on! ♥ Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ♥ Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file but please make sure to credit me. ♥ Thank you to all CC Creators
SPEED BUILD VIDEO
0:02 Intro
1:43 Speed Build
17:24 Photos
♥ Lot Details:
Lot Name: Club Tropics
Lot size: 40x30
Location: Arts Quarter, San MyShuno
♥ MODS:
TOOL MOD by TwistedMexi
♥ CC LIST:
Note: I have all parts of all sets in this list, so I highly recommend you guys dl them since I frequently use them in all my builds!
Harrie: Bafroom, Brutalist, Kwatei, Octave pt 2, Shop the look 2, Spoons pt 3,
The Clutter Cat: Bussy Bee, Dandy Diaries pt 1
CharlyPancakes: Light house collection
Felix Andre: Chateau, Fayun, Colonial pt 3, Kyoto pt 2, Paris pt 1 3, Shop the look, Florence, Grove, Shop the look
Cowbuild: Millionaire Quinn Walk in Closet (only used wall slats)
House of Harlix: Harluxe, Jardane, Livin Rum, Orjanic
Little Dica: Greasy Goods, Rise & Grind, Sleek Slumber
Myshunosun: Lottie, Macaron Kitchen
Peacemaker: Bowed Living, Caine Living, Pointless Renovation, Terratiles horizontal
Pierisim: MCM, Oak House, Unfold, Winter Garden pt 2, Woodland Ranch
Max 20: Poolside Lounge Pack
Charly Pancakes x Pierisim: Precious Promises
Rusticsims: Simple Kind Modular
Sixam: Dreamy Outdoor, Furniture Showroom, Hotel Bedroom, Teen room
Taurus Design: Lilith Chilling Areas
Mycupofcc: The Modernist
Tuds: Cave, Ind, NCTR
♥ Tray file
♥ Origin ID: Applez
♥ Twitter: Rheya28__
♥ Tiktok: Rheya28__
2K notes · View notes
ceridescent · 9 months
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carribean summer heat — m., wanda
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wanda maximoff x female!reader
summary: it's a lovely sight to see wanda maximoff sweating and blushing due to the tropical heat. sometimes it's tricky, because one moment she looks like a baby, and the next, well...you could ask the particular group of people who...but you suppose not. it's impossible they could have seen the hot flush on her cheeks as she handled you then and there, out in the open.
warning/s: top!wanda, bottom!f!reader, dom/sub dynamics, thigh riding, dirty talk, semi-public, mommy kink, use of strap-on, creampie, & teasing.
word count: 4, 300
author’s note: hiiiiii hiiii hiiii i'm so happy i finally have some content to post on my rotting account. ٩(◕‿◕。)۶ (i did have multiple drafts but i forgot tumblr existed 'cause i had off notifs the whole time since may.) it was a giddy, high school girl crush feeling of me to write this filthy fic. (/▽\*)。o○♡ i hope everyone's having a wonderful Hot Girl summer!! or a Hot Slutty summer, whichever you prefer. o(>ω<;)o
18+ only. men and minors do NOT interact.
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the sun rays barely strike your tanning skin, serving only as an illumination toward the breathtaking view of the caribbean sea as you situate on the patio.  
three ivory-colored recliner beach chairs are included in the rental villa, wherein you occupy one whilst the woman who flew a helicopter in saint-barthélemy island, makes piña coladas in the kitchen. a few hours ago you woke up earlier than her, and it was a relieving feeling, of hearing the rise and fall of her breath. a pink blush coated her entire face, unused to the tropical weather. hair stuck on the oval of her face, grinning at how baby-ish she looked. you didn’t bother rousing her though, as you were both selfish for being the sole witness of the rising sun behind the full glass window of the villa, and considerate to allow her more time to rest. 
not long after though, she woke up moaning your name, rubbing a whole limb on the empty space you left behind. 
“you left me,” wanda whined, her eyes glazed and her red lips pouty.
“they gave us fresh coconuts,” you purred, showing her the fruit. helping her sit up on the white mattress, you plant a chaste kiss on her cheekbone. this feels like a true vacation, you thought to yourself, appreciating the beach elements surrounding the entire villa, and the hard-to-miss view of the sea outside. although, the other thing that left you breathless was wanda’s bare breasts, the only clothing clinging onto her body was the thong she changed into right after she showered last night. 
you rested the open edge of the coconut in between her lips, “here,” tipping it upward so she could drink the coconut juice. wanda’s eyes fluttered close, a long and pronounced moan gracing your ears. she covered your hands with her own to hold the fruit, gulping the liquid into her parched mouth. she sighed as she finished, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes. 
she suggested, “we can eat the insides for breakfast, honey,” bending low toward the bedside to fetch her matching bra. you blushed at the recollection of last night. “i’m sure they have some honey in the kitchen somewhere…” you added, watching the tips of her peaks disappear into view. 
wanda teased, “you like what you see?”, lightly slapping your face in the process in a playful manner. you tried to forget how her plump breasts felt in your hands as you suckled her dry, returning into the present moment of the beautiful day. 
“i would like to eat,” you diverted the topic back into the fruit in your hands, which wasn’t successful as wanda raised an amused brow, pursing her lips together to fight back a smile. you pointed to the coconut to counter her silent reproach, giving her a light blush. “get your head outta gutter, ma’am,” you said and retreated to the kitchen before she could come up with a witty remark, which you’d most likely shut her up with a kiss. 
wanda hums the tune from maroon 5’s sunday morning as she exits the indoor, clutching a wooden tray filled with food and replenishments. a board of charcuterie sits in the middle of the two piña coladas. you gasp at the precise detailing, “i’m not done,” blinking your eyes in anticipation, revealing a coconut with a straw strapped to the side. wanda caresses your hair, gives you a kiss on the forehead as you look up at her adoringly. “help yourself, angel,” she said before pecking your cheek. you mewl and melt at her service, appreciating the beautiful woman even more. 
the drinks are astounding, satisfying your thirst for something cool in this caribbean summer heat, as well as your insufferable stomach—literal paradise—blinding your attention away from the oval-rimmed eyeglasses, but most especially, her gorgeousness in a bikini. “is that-“
wanda maximoff grins like a cheshire cat, “yes, angel, it’s the one you picked for me!” sometimes wanda does it, she sends you a fitting room pic of her in bikinis—and if you were blessed enough—lingeries—needing a different perspective of what looks flattering on her.  
this particular bikini that clings onto her glistening skin is a green tie-front bandeau matched with a thin-string bikini bottom that leaves little to no imagination; highlighting the fullness of her hips down her voluminous thigh. her exposed tight stomach that has a small bruise on the side of her belly button, the heavy cups of her chest. you love how wanda never fails to wear something as if she was born with it and that it never leaves her skin. 
you don’t realize until later that your mouth hangs open watching wanda cozy herself onto the beach chair next to you, laying it all out for the sea to see. 
“oh,” you choke on your own spit, sight glued onto her cleavage. and if temptation could get any worse, sweat trickles down on the valley of it, getting envious (and more) of how close it is to where you want to be. stammering “you look-l-look-so look so marvelous, w-wan,” you gulp down your insistent saliva and grab the cool piña colada, biting hard on the straw as you sip in the flavor to replace the volcano on your tongue, before saying another that would jeopardize this peaceful, sunny day. (although it isn’t bad if it heads toward that direction.)
“you’re sucking so hard on it, princess,” wanda chuckles, “is it that tasty?” facing you now, leaning her weight against her right arm. her cleavage sag toward gravity, you fear it might actually fall off. short-circuiting for a moment, registering her question, her intention, and her innuendo. trying to calculate and rethink your response as you now, gently, sip the straw, sensing the coolness of your throat and skin, staring at the vast sea. 
you turn your gaze on her nose, so wanda would think that you are brave enough to have a staredown with her striking olive green eyes. then you take another hard sip, hollowing your cheeks in the process, at the same time moaning loudly, rolling your eyes back. “oh yes,” you sigh, “it tastes so good, wan! would you like some?”
she grins like a proud mother, “yeah,” reaching for the other glass but you swat her hand away. “nuh-uh,” you spurn, shaking your index finger whilst you stand up from the chair. you take three slow, deliberate steps sipping on the cocktail, not breaking eye contact with her. wanda watches every move in a relaxed position, however, her eyes carry primacy and eagerness—she’s like a hawk with it. 
you bat your eyes at her as you lower yourself down, dipping one knee on the beach chair in the open space of her glistening legs, at the same time resting the piña colada on the wooden tray. wanda scoots facing you, realizing what is up your sleeve. a shiver runs down your spine when she holds your love handles, positioning you in place. you swear to not have done anything but sit, like a moan, when she plops you down against her lap, her grip on your knees reluctant as if she’s trying not to clench on you too hard. 
wanda’s specs tumble out of place for a second ‘cause you clip the loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear, taking your time. she whines, “i’m getting so thirsty!” jerking your body up and down, making your legs quiver, the friction of your cores heating your bundle of nerves. 
sticking an index finger against her complaining lips only to pinch her jawbone to force an opening, without saying a word, you connect your mouth with hers, slowly pushing out the piña colada into her “parched” throat. 
wanda flutters her eyes close and hums at the sensation, gulping it down, caressing your back in the process. sluggish and soft, fingertips against your shoulder blades. upward your hair, combing through them. and finally, your neck, massaging your nape in circular motions. 
when you pull away you return a soft smile, giddy and grateful, reaching for the glass to give her some more. wanda’s wandering hands begin to become playful, toying with your bikini strap, stretching the fabric just to let it strike your skin. you hiss, slapping her hands away, yet she reprimands you with a smack on the ass. you sigh in relief for not having anything in your mouth. 
more perspiration covers her milk skin, moaning at the liquid tantalizing her throat, and you who cannot help but bounce against her, the heat crawling through your body caused by not only the tropical heat of the island. 
“princess, wanda whines, pushing your hips hard to stop you from bouncing like a bitch in heat, “what is it?” acting as if she doesn’t know what you’re asking for. “do you want to ride my thigh?”
or maybe she does. 
nodding eagerly, you slide your hands over wanda’s arms to intertwine fingers, descending to land on her thigh. “don’t let me go,”
wanda shakes her head, relaxed, rubbing her thumb over, “how am i going to play with your nipples then, honey?”
that particular sentence made you grind hard on her, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. it’s all up to you though, so you begin to feel her voluptuous thigh at home between your legs, at home to be used by your needy pussy. “let me play with them, yeah?”
you allow wanda to let go of your hands, although it doesn’t stay dangling and out of place. she puts them around her waist, “there. so you have something to hold on to,” gathering your hair around her grip. “get on it, little girl. give me a great view.”
you do as told. 
somehow, you always need wanda’s approval and permission before doing something that includes her, because it’s different with her. you utterly have faith that she would keep you safe, because most exciting things are dangerous. you become your truest, unapologetic self with her, dependent and clueless. wanda adores it, serving you, treating you like a princess. 
hoarsely, “there we go, nice and slow for now, huh?” wanda stares at your whole frame, your legs automatically spreading wider, draping over the chair. she bites her lip, dragging her fingers over your thighs, as you increase your pace. you squeal, pressing your clad pussy against her thigh, “that’s what i’m talking about, baby. make yourself feel good for me,” whilst wanda encourages you with hunger. 
you whimper, watching her watch you. blood rushes into your cheeks, bowing down to relieve the tension of being under wanda’s gaze, still unused to the pierce of her green eyes. you only look back when she begins fiddling with your top straps, teasing you with her next move. 
you believe you know what’s about to happen and yet she lets them go, cupping your tits with her hands, kneading them into her calloused palms. you topple over at the pleasure, and she holds you up with your breasts, almost crushing them. the action causes you to let out a high-pitched whimper, casually rubbing yourself to take off the insufferable itch in your clit. 
“oh god,” you sob when wanda pries the cups open without taking the top off, only setting them aside, as if she’s washing off sand from a seashell with her slender hands. “oh, oh!” feverishly you buck your hips, and “wanda!” a scream follows as she steps on her heel, her thigh going on a slope. 
“that’s my pretty girl,” wanda husks, “keep moaning for me,” encouraging you. a simultaneous long moan erupts from both of you as she pinches your peaks, rolling them in between her fingers. a hungry grunt vibrates through her before diving into your tit, sucking it full with her mouth. your hand goes straight through her blonde hair, gripping it through the scalp, and then her shoulder where you find better leverage. 
“that’s it-“ wanda huffs, “g-good, good, my good girl,” lost in the pleasure of sucking your chest. “yeah baby come for me-“ 
wanda guides your hips, setting a quick, solid rhythm. she pulses her heel up and down, and then it hits you,
“come for me, pretty girl. come for mommy-“
screaming and thrashing on top of her. 
you crash against her chest, quivering all over, moan after moan tumbling out of your mouth, your hips still moving but at their own accord, with wanda’s hands resting on your buttcheeks. wanda hums when you quiet down, the vibration reaching your nipples, grazing you with a scream, cum dripping out of you. “dirty,” you mewl, referring to your soaked and sticky bikini bottom 
wanda groans, “all mine,” palming your pussy through it, shoving her lips onto yours. you happily obliged, probing your tongue in her mouth, which she gladly accepted. massaging them together, suckling, and then nipping her lower lip, brushing your noses together. 
“mhm!” you squeal as you pull away, giving wanda a radiant smile. she pinches your cheeks and pecks your nose. “okay then!” she claps her hands together, an eager woman with a plan. she kisses the side of your neck just below your ear. she pulls you away from her, settling you down in between her legs.
she gets up, get cozy, princess, mommy’s just gonna take something inside, okay?”
“mommy,” you whine, “can i come with?”
“no no, princess. it’s a surprise for you, okay? i’ll be back before you know it!” and then she’s gone. 
you probably should have added “please” then she would’ve surely brought you in with her. but you do entertain yourself with the little time alone: rearranging glasses back in place, disregarding your wet bottom because wanda would take it off as usual, and finish the cocktail. you also spooned a bit of the coconut’s inside. 
a loud chatter pulls you away from your little bubble, a group of people jet skiing echoing through the space. multiple arms wave in your direction, a booming “HELLO” as you wave back, blush coating your cheeks. you push your legs tight together. realizing the openness of the patio, you make a double take behind the place wanda has disappeared off, knowing that there’s more to come out of after your stunt, and most especially that you have brought her dominant side out here. 
you drink wanda’s piña colada to pacify your nerves. 
wanda isn’t scary, per se, she just gets super duper mega hot and towering—sometimes to the point of la petite mort—but this time the possibility of somebody else kayaking their way into your location makes you palpitate.
kayaking, the deliberate effort of rowing through this calm ocean—the agonizing trail of the canoes—it is something worse than a damn jet ski. this is driving you crazy!
“i’m sorry for the long wait, my darling. mommy couldn’t find it for a while ‘cause she’s thinking about you…”
you take a huge gulp, refusing to look at what's behind you. a hand ghosts on top of the beach chair. “it’s okay, wanda, i like the view here…”
“i know, princess. but it’ll look nicer if you see what mommy packed for you!”
this is her cue to come forward, blocking the peaceful view of the sea, showing her thick strap. you roll your eyes back, trembling all over, making her chuckle at the expected reaction, taking your hand to stroke her cock. 
“i love the sound of your whimpers, baby. shows how much effect i have on you,” wanda husks, her desire of giving it to you palpable, because she dirty talks her way into your pussy as she does so. you gasp, “it’s big,” gripping the tip, feeling the faux veins coating the shaft. “you can take it, princess. i know it.”
“i don’t think so…” you dissent, shaking your head, at the same time anticipating it. but surely you can’t take it in you, it’ll hurt so bad. wanda shakes her head and palms your drenched clothed pussy before setting it aside. 
she puts a finger in without warning, making you arch your back, a cry “mommy!” leaving your shocked mouth. 
“now you’re calling me mommy,” she gives you a disapproving look, but urges you on smiling at the motion of you sucking her middle finger in fully without resistance. “i knew you’d be so wet, so i didn’t bring any lube.”
wanda takes her finger out and puts it in her mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of your cum. “mmm, i might just have to eat you out instead. would you want that, my princess?”
you nod your head rather aggressively, your face contorted in desperation. anything not to take her monster dick. however, wanda must’ve noticed your not-so-subtle calculation because she changes her mind, shaking her head, trying to hide her cheshire smirk. 
“no,” she hum, “i think my tongue can wait for this sweet pussy. ‘cause then what’s gonna keep my baby girl’s boobs occupied?”
a squeal leaves your mouth as wanda drags your legs to the edge until it’s draping off the chair. you stick your legs together in the wind, your cum glistening on your pussy. wanda traces the slick that coats your inner thigh, just to get a rise out of you. she bites her lip in anticipation as she lubes her cock with your pussy juice, rubbing the tip over your clit. 
“fuck,” she moans, “listen to it,” slapping it the toy against your pussy. “mommy,” you could only respond, already over the whole teasing fit. “please!”
“please what, princess?”
“plea-pl-“
she chuckles. wanda groans as she lines her cock in your opening, “use your words, darling. makes it easier for us,” waiting for you to vocalize. 
you fling your hand forward to intertwine them with hers. “please fuck me, mommy. pleaseplease fill meplease!”
wanda whimpers.
“that’s my good girl.”
she enters you slowly, encouraging you to take deep breaths as she spreads your hole, tearing you open to get used to the size. your brows knit together at the sharp pain, mewling at the sensation. wanda peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, distracting you from the initial process, “hey, hey, baby. it’s okay, mommy’s here–mommy will take care of you.”
your “thank you” gets swallowed by her lips, capturing yours in a languid tango, firm and warm in the tropical heat. your eyes flutter close alike battling sleep as, fighting the urge to just stay open because if you stare long enough at wanda’s eyelashes, you would be able to count them, but you settle with feeling it caressing your cheekbone. she breathes you in with each inhale, her hands coming to your cheeks to get a hold of you even more. you let out a keen for the numerous times she bites your lip, sliding her tongue in when you moan at the first thrust. 
you break the kiss, “mommy,” giving her a pleading look. “please.”
she presents you a peck and nods her head, “oh yes,” beginning a pace. “is that okay, princess? does it hurt?”
“little only now, mommy. i like it,” you reply, taking her tongue in yours again. 
“yeah?” she pulls away from the kiss, “you like mommy grinding down on you?” pushing in her length harder, her pace controlled. you hear the beach chair thud against the movement. your tits bounce at the same time, whimpering, tugging her hand, “faster please-“
“no, no. mommy’s gonna take her time, my love. i need to feel every inch of you before we get back. fuck! i’ve never fucked you in a bikini! it’s been in my bucket list for months now and i could finally-!”
wanda finds her pace, a grunt leaving her, pumping deeper into you, “-do this!” a cry leaving your swelling lips as your back arches in the process, her cock stuffing you full. “thank you, feels so good,” you slur, eyes rolling back, seeing the blue of cloudy skies. you think you begin to drool. 
wanda makes an incoherent statement, her lower lip bitten to hold back her moans. a bucket of sweat forms on her forehead, little bubbles that slide down through her forehead and blushing face. her hair tangles in knots like a wet mop, clinging against her back. 
her hands slither through your body, tracing patterns on your stomach, playing with your belly button. “you’re welcome,” she sighs, “anything for my favorite lady,” whispering over your ear, her hot puffs making your spine quiver. she nibbles your earlobe. 
and your neck, sinking her teeth into flesh, planting a bruise, gripping your waist tight to pull you forward to meet her pounding. “ah fuck, wanda!” you yelp, as she stretches your pussy hole open and full. bucking her hips with no abandon, chasing that high that belongs in between your legs, her primal urge to please you—to hear you scream her name in your favorite vacation spot—to make you come apart only for her to build you back up. 
“oh baby, uh,” wanda keens, clipping her hair out of the way of seeing you fucked out, “play with your tits, y/n. come on, please! show me your pretty bits,”
a high-pitched moan sounds out of you from wanda’s desperation, mimicking her movement a sex ago, setting your cups to the side. your fingers shake as you pinch and roll your nipples, your moans getting higher and prolonged the more you tug at them. your whole body spasms, thrashing under wanda who makes it her life’s mission to make you come around her cock. 
you hear her chuckle close to your ear, licking a column of your neck, peppering kisses down onto your chest, replacing your fingers with her lips and tongue. 
“so hard, so ha-“
“harder!” you sob, jackhammering your hips to meet hers, every snap ending with the sound of your juices thwacking around wanda’s big dick. 
“hey, hey, princess look,” wanda slaps your face lightly to catch your attention, at the brink of tapping out, your brain unable to cope up with the situation anymore. you push your hoods open—screaming at the shock—the sight of wanda’s bare breasts bouncing up and down, looking so supple and fresh. 
“mommy,” you whine, “i wanna suck you,”
how you managed to let that out you don’t know. 
wanda whimpers, “oh baby,” purring as she downs her pace, “here princess,” taking one tit and holding in front of your mouth, “suck mommy good yeah?”
you only nod your head, speaking less to more. your mouth envelops in the hard peaks of the older woman, flicking it with your tongue before you actually suck it. wanda lets out a shaky breath, “y-yeah princess. be a good girl for mommy-“ driving her cock in your wet cunt in one swift thrust, frantic to hear you once more. 
“y/n!” wanda writhes, the only leverage she has over you is her hands clenching your sides, “fuck fuckfuck me- mommy’s so close princess-!” screaming along with you.  
“mommy, mommy,” you slur, attempting to wrap your legs around her waist but it’s too imposible with the energy you have. although wanda takes notice, helping you, wrapping one leg around her, whilst the other takes your hand the way you intended to in the first place. “yes, princess. mommy’s clo–come with me, please? come with me m’kay?” 
repetitive words tumble out of wanda’s lips with the way her mind untangles as well, lost in the pleasure of having you fucked brainless. her tit falls off your mouth when you fling your head back, nearing into your climax. one more thrust—
a familiar loud chatter enters your hearing, pointing toward your direction, wanda noticing the same thing as she pauses for a beat, and before shame could creep into your head, she jolts her hips recklessly, fucking you with a few visitors. 
“fuck yeah? we got an audience, baby. better give them our best sho-“
wanda chokes out a sob the same time as you, convulsing and trembling together at the climax. multiple expletives grunts out of her filthy mouth, complementing your sputtering. 
wanda screams the same time as you do, crashing together. multiple expletives come out of her filthy mouth, complementing your whiny sounds. 
“m-mommy!” you whine, drool dripping out of your mouth, “please–“ wanda grinning down at you, the loud chatter that once was powerful now weak and non-existent. “yes princess?” she purrs, washing the orgasm out of you. “i think you made them shut up, baby,” she chuckles breathlessly, her face red and wet. “but…we’re not done yet.”
you whine, exhaustion already painted all over you. “nope,” wanda pops the p and fixes your disheveled hair. you look so fucked out, not even a workout excuse is going to hide that. 
“i just…” wanda takes her time to come up with something, a sugarcoated truth, maybe? or a white lie?
“…i wanna put all my cum inside you,” she lets out quietly, batting her eyes at you. 
you cry with your legs spread open and shaking, ropes of cum filling your pussy hole. wanda giggles and moves her cock in a sensual pace, making sure nothing goes to waste. 
“i’m so full mommy!”
“so full of my cum! how does it feel being filled with cum, huh, princess?”
you can barely open your eyes at this point, but wanda insists, slapping your face lightly to catch your short attention span. “you like it?”
“yes, mommy. makes me wanna suck you,” you whimper as wanda moans. “i’ll fuck my cum in you some more and then i’ll get to fuck your face?”
“yes, you offer breathlessly, drifting off. she takes your chin so you could face her, “no, no,” giving you a demanding look, “yes what?”
she puts her thumb in your mouth and you automatically suck. “yes, mommy.”
2K notes · View notes
buckyispunk · 6 months
Text
Aloha
Aloha part one ~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N), read part two here!
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)
Summary: You arrive at a Hawaiian resort for your ex's wedding and a man named Bucky buys you a drink. You proceed to spend the next day with him, getting to know him and his friends.
A/N: New series! There will probably be five or so parts, with much more smut, angst, and fluff to come :) let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this series!
Warnings: unwanted touching (not by Bucky), dom!bucky, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, spitting, choking, orgasm delay/denial, oral (f receiving), fingering, drinking, Bucky's got a filthy mouth
Word Count: 11k
Fucking Brock. You sit on the couch staring at the little cardstock rectangle in disbelief.
Join us in celebrating Brock and Marisssa’s special day! surrounded by hibiscus flowers and a tropical design. The flowery invitation theme makes sense when you read that the wedding is in Hawaii. 
You hadn’t seen Brock in years. Three, to be exact. It had been in the soup aisle of the grocery store.
You had been reaching for a can of tomato paste to make spaghetti to eat alone in your little apartment. You looked a mess, having stopped at the store on your way home from a long day of work. You heard him call your name - his nonchalant, egotistical voice recognizable anywhere. 
“Oh my god, how’ve you been? It’s been too long!” He had said, as if he had made any attempts to reach out to you - or had any desire to - since you had broken up. 
“Oh,” you turned around to face him, “fine, you?”
“I’m doing great! Just here to buy some soup for my girlfriend, she’s been under the weather lately.”
Not even a minute into conversation and he’d mentiioned his new girlfriend. You had just broken up two months before. You tried your best to keep the look of shock and sadness from your face. How had he moved on so quick? Did your almost four year relationship meant so little to him? 
You managed to give a small noncommittal smile and nod. He wasn’t paying enough attention to you to notice anyway, grabbing a couple of cans of chicken noodle soup and turning back the way he came. 
“We should get together and catch up sometime!” he had shouted over his shoulder as he walked away.
That was the last time you had seen him. It wasn’t like the two of you were on bad terms or anything. The break up had been civil - civil as a breakup can be, anyway. You and Brock had begun dating in your freshman year of college. One day, in the middle of you and Brock’s senior year, he sat you down and said he needed to talk to you. He said that you were great and he’d always have a special place in his heart for you, but he just couldn’t picture himself with you for the rest of his life - so there’s no point in wasting anymore time, as he had put it. To be honest, you didn’t disagree.
You had been unhappy towards the end of the relationship. You could tell that Brock was distancing himself and the two of you got in little fights almost every day. You knew it wasn’t going to work out, but it had still left a huge hole in your heart. Brock was a big part of your life every day for four years, then all of a sudden he was just gone. A big piece of you was missing and you had to rebuild it yourself. Turns out Brock rebuilt that piece with another girl. If he ever had a piece that needed rebuilding in the first place, that is. 
You really had wanted to stay friends with him after the breakup, or at least remain civil with him. He had never reached out after that day in the grocery store and you had no desire to reach out to him - you had healed yourself and decided you were better off without him. 
You sit on the couch running your fingers over the rough material, rereading the words over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. You really don’t care that Brock is getting married, it’s not like you want him back or anything. But, at the same time, you weren’t necessarily chomping at the bit to go watch him and his fiancee celebrate their special day. 
A vacation did sound nice, though. You’d always wanted to go to Hawaii. Plus, you figured some of you and Brock’s friends from college would be in attendance. The two of you had been in the same friend group when he asked you out. You lost touch with the friend group after the break up. You would see some of them in passing or in classes and share small talk, but you had stopped getting invitations to hang out with them. You weren’t one to hold a grudge, though, and it would be nice to see them again. 
You mull it over for a little while before deciding that it would be a good move on your part to go, show Brock that you were still on good terms with him and that him getting married doesn’t bother you. You could take a break from work and get some much-needed sun and relaxation. You RSVP and check no, you will not be bringing a plus one.  
The months leading up to the wedding follow the same, monotonous routine. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. Occasionally your coworkers would drag you out to the bar after work and you would go - desperate to feel some sort of belonging. Despite your efforts over the years, you had never gotten close with any of the girls at work. You got along with them okay, but you wouldn’t exactly call them your friends. Acquaintances was a more fitting term.
You do, however, have one best friend. The only issue is that she lives almost a thousand miles away. You had moved to New York for school and she had stayed back home in Illinois. You stay in contact with her and your family. Most days, talking to them makes you more homesick than anything else. You’d considered moving back more than once, but had ultimately decided against it each time - you’re scared to look like a failure. You don’t want to come running back home at the first signs of struggle. You want to prove to everyone back home that you can make it in the big city by yourself. 
As the days go by, you find yourself looking forward to the special day. Not because of the wedding, but because you’re ready to escape the numb hell that your life has become. The wedding is on a Friday. You’re flying in on Monday and leaving Sunday morning. Six nights at the tropical resort Brock and Marissa have picked. 
It’s the Sunday night before you leave. Your bags are packed and waiting by the door. Sleep comes easy, knowing that by this time tomorrow you’ll be drinking cocktailas at a pool-side bar, free from work stress and city traffic. Away from the city where you feel lonely among millions of people.
Usually when the ear-piercing, dread instilling sound of your alarm rings, you hit the snooze button and pull the covers tighter in attempt to hang on to your last moments of comfort and peace - or as close as you can get to that, these days. Today, however, is different. When you hear the all-too familiar noise coming from your phone, it leaves you with a feeling of excitement rather than depression. 
You sit up, smile on your face, and get ready for the day. After showering and putting on your comfiest plane clothes, you grab your bags and head outside. You hail a taxi and can’t even bring yourself to be upset when he doesn’t offer to help you with your luggage. You smile the whole way to the airport.
I repeat, flight DL4567 is delayed by two hours. Boarding will begin at 12:10.
The universe has found a way to put you in a bad mood again. You’re certain whatever higher power there is had sent this sudden thunderstorm just for you. You look at your phone to check the time - 9:45. You had been sitting here for an hour already. The hard chair is starting to get uncomfortable, so you decide to get your second cup of coffee for the morning. You stand and grab your luggage, making your way to the end of the Starbucks line. You order your go-to drink and some breakfast.
Once you get your coffee and food you find a little table to sit at and pull out your book. You find yourself enthralled in your book and the time flies. A voice over the loudspeaker breaks you out of your trance. 
Flight DL4567 now boarding. 
You snap your book shut and clean up your table. You grab your bags and head back to your gate. After waiting in line for a little while, you finally take your seat on the plane. You put in your earbuds and watch the grey clouds outside - thankful you got a window seat. By the time the plane starts moving, you’re smiling again and counting down the time until your arrival. 
You spend the first five hours of your flight reading and watching TV - you’re pleasantly surprised to see that they have your favorite show. Sometime after they serve lunch, you fall asleep. When you wake up, there’s only two hours left until arrival. 
You watch the fluffy clouds outside your window and find that time passes quickly when you think about all the things you want to do in Hawaii. You also find that the time passes impossibly slow when you let your mind drift to New York and all your responsibilities. How is it that you haven’t even landed in Hawaii yet and you’re already dreading returning back home?
You see the beaches and the luscious green that fill the ground beneath you. You take in all the sights as best you can as you get closer and closer to the ground, preparing for landing. Your ears hurt slightly from the pressure change, but you’ve got other things on your mind.
After waiting some more to get your luggage, you finally manage to get on a shuttle and you’re on your way to the resort. You watch the mountains in the distance and the palm trees on the drive. You’re listening to your playlist through your earbuds and this is the happiest you’ve felt in a while. You could get used to this, you think. 
Your jaw drops when you pull up to the hotel. The huge building is right on the beach. Sure, that’s what it had said online, but the real thing it’s even more staggering in person than it had been in the pictures. The sun beats down on you as soon as you step out of the shuttle, but there’s a nice breeze that makes it enjoyable. A worker hands you your bags from the back of the bus and you thank him. You roll them inside the resort, eyes widening even more when you see the inside of the place. You can’t wait to get your bags in your room and explore. 
The receptionist is nice as can be and tells you to enjoy your stay as she hands you your key cards - like you’ll be needing more than one. You wheel your luggage into the elevator and press the number five. You’re astonished by the view when you step into your room. Your balcony faces the beach and you can see mountains in the distance. The evening sun is still shining bright and there’s not a cloud in the sky. 
It’s just after seven o’clock by the time you’re done changing. You head down to the main floor and set off to explore. There’s a spa, an indoor and outdoor bar, a pool, a hot tub, a gym, and a restaurant. You decide to hit the outdoor bar and enjoy the last of the daylight. 
You slide into a barstool. The warmth of the sun and the refreshing sea-side breeze, along with a couple cocktails, quickly put you into a relaxed headspace. You’d been looking forward to this for so long and it’s definitely all you’d imagined it would be. 
The resort is pretty full, but not to the point where it gets on your nerves. The bar is occupied by a group of girls who look a little younger than you and some married couples.
You’re just finishing your second drink when something catches your attention - a loud, boisterous laugh coming from the other end of the bar. You lean forward to see a group of guys you hadn’t noticed before. The laugh comes from a man with chocolatey, smooth skin. He’s sitting with a gigantic blond man who is currently looking down at the bartop and shaking his head, a half smile on his face. The last man, though, is what makes you do a double take. 
He’s got dark, fluffy hair. Though his stubble tries to hide it, you notice his sharp jawline. His shoulders are broad and his biceps stretch the sleeve of his t-shirt. He’s smiling, pearly white teeth on display. You find that you’re still watching him as he brings a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a swig. 
You’re only snapped out of your trance when he looks in your direction. You quickly divert your eyes, but you aren’t quick enough. He catches your gaze for the briefest of seconds. You might be imagining things, but you swear you see the corner of his mouth curl up into a smile before he looks back to his friends - still laughing and yelling about something.
The sun has finally set and you decide on having one more of the fun, tropical drinks before heading up to your room. 
You prepare to flag down the bartender, surprised when you find him already stopping in front of you, one of the cocktails you’d been drinking in hand. 
“Courtesy of the gentleman at the other end of the bar.”
You quickly thank the bartender and look back to the other end of the bar where the group of guys had been sitting. They’re the only men sitting at that end of the bar.
The brunette is already looking at you. He gives you a million dollar smile and shoots you a wink before he turns, following his friends back into the hotel.
You sit in shock for a solid minute, replaying the wink over and over in your mind. Sure you’ve got a solid buzz and you haven’t been laid in a long time, but even if that wasn’t the case, you’re sure it would’ve been just as sexy. You’re only slightly ashamed of the small amount of wetness you feel in your panties.
You down the free drink and head back into the hotel. On your way to the elevator, you notice the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the last 30 or so minutes standing at the reception desk. His hair is wet and his clothes are soaking through. 
You quickly make your way to the elevator and repeatedly press the up arrow. You’re not sure where the sudden embarrassment is coming from, but your cheeks are red and you don’t want him to see you right now. 
Unfortunately for you, you hear footsteps behind you and turn to find the same piercing blue eyes you had met across the bar staring back at you. 
“Friends stole all the towels out of my room,” he tells you, holding up a stack of fresh ones.
Well that explains why he was at the reception desk, also why he’s soaking wet. 
“Oh,” you manage a small chuckle as you look down at your feet. 
You can’t help but feel embarrassed when he’s looking at you so intently, like you’re the only thing on his mind right now. It doesn’t help that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen and he’s talking to you of all people. 
You force yourself to meet his eyes again, “Thank you, um, for the drink earlier,” you manage in a somewhat steady voice. 
 “Course, doll,” another smile. 
The elevator doors finally open and he extends his arm, “After you.”
He follows you into the elevator and presses the number five. 
“What floor are you on?” he turns, waiting for your response.
“Same as you, apparently,” you smile up at him. 
You weren’t close enough to tell before, but he’s tall. At least six feet. 
“I’m Bucky, by the way. Sorry ‘bout leaving before I could introduce myself earlier, but my friends were being a pain in the ass - pardon my language.”
You tell him your own name and he holds out his hand. You put your hand in his and expect him to shake it, but what he does next surprises you.
He gently raises your hand to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“Pleasure to meet you,” he rolls your name off his tongue, still holding your hand.
You try your best not to make it obvious that you’re swooning over this man. Heat returns to your core at the feeling of his rough hand engulfing yours. 
The elevator bell dings, letting you know you’ve reached your floor. Bucky carefully drops your hand as the doors open. The two of you step out of the elevator and he stops.
“I’ll be seeing you around,” he says, holding eye contact with you.
“I hope so,” your buzz encourages you. 
You smile at each other and when he turns to head to his room, you do the same. 
“Goodnight, doll,” he shouts over his shoulder before disappearing into his room.
You can’t keep the smile off of your face the rest of the night. You’re in fucking Hawaii. A man straight out of your fantasies had bought you a drink, and he plans on seeing you around. You know it’s too soon to be thinking this, but maybe you’ll find a more unconventional way to relieve stress this week. 
After you wake up and get dressed for the day, you head down to get breakfast from the buffet. You load your plate and find a table. You’re in the middle of chewing a bite of waffle when you see Brock. Him and a woman, you assume it’s Marissa, are grabbing plates and getting into the breakfast line. 
Brock doesn’t notice you until after him and the woman have gotten their own food. You watch him as he scans the room for a table, his eyes eventually landing on you. 
He calls out your name and leans down to tell the woman something. 
“So glad you’re here! Are these seats taken?” he asks, not waiting for a response as he sits down, leaving the woman to follow. 
“Go ahead,” you say. You’re somewhat glad to have some company, even if it’s a little awkward.
“This is my fiancée, Marissa.”
“So nice to meet you,” she offers her hand and you shake it. 
Breakfast is filled with awkward conversation. You and Brock catch up a little bit, telling each other what you’re up to these days. After a few minutes, Brock pulls out his phone and doesn’t put it away for the rest of the meal. You talk to Marissa about the wedding planning and do your best to seem interested as she talks about flower arrangements for ten minutes. 
Eventually, conversation lulls and you take the opportunity to get up. 
“So nice catching up with you, Brock. And nice to meet you Marissa!” you say, heading to your room.
You decide on heading to the pool today and change into your bikini. It’s a black set that shows off your body without being too skimpy. You throw some clothes over it and grab your book before stepping out of your room. 
Before you reach the elevator, you hear your name being called. You turn and see Bucky standing by his door.
“Where are you headed to?” 
“I’m gonna go lay by the pool for a bit, wanna join me?” you answer, not sure where your courage is coming from.
Bucky grins as he responds, “Nothing else I’d rather do.”
You feel your face heat up.
“Lemme put some trunks on and I’ll meet you down there?”
“Sounds great, Bucky,” you nod at him before slipping into the elevator.
Once at the pool, you grab two towels. By some miracle, you manage to find two empty lounge chairs together. You set your things down and lay the towels over the chairs. You strip out of your clothes, leaving you clad in only the bikini, and apply sunscreen before laying down. You put your earbuds in and close your eyes and bask in the sun. 
Maybe it's the sunshine, maybe it’s the fresh ocean air, or maybe it’s something else entirely, but you’re feeling the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You notice that instead of your usual RBF, you've been smiling almost constantly since your arrival.
When you open your eyes, you see Bucky standing a few feet away from you, steel blue eyes raking up and down your body. 
“Oh, Bucky,” you pause your music, blush returning to your cheeks, “how long have you been standing there?”
“Shit,” he says your name, realizing he’d been caught staring, “I swear I just got here like ten seconds ago. I’m so sorry. Feel free to revoke my invitation because I was being a creep,” he grimaces, expecting you to be mad at him.
The way he looked at you was different than the way most men would look at you in a bikini, though. It wasn’t gross or pervy. It looked like he was genuinely just appreciating your body, rather than plotting how to get you into his bed. And he didn't make any disgusting comments or cat call you like other guys have in the past. Besides, you'd be lying if you said you didn’t get a boost of confidence from the way he looked at you.  
“Hmm,” you put your finger on your chin, pretending to mull it over, “I’ll let you sit down, but only if you buy me another drink first.”
That familiar grin spreads across his face again. 
“You got yourself a deal. You want another one of those gross cocktails you were drinking last night?”
“Um, excuse you, Mr. I’m too manly to drink cocktails, but I’ll have you know those were delicious.”
He chuckles and promises to be back shortly before walking toward the bar. 
You play your music and wait for him to return. After a couple minutes, he returns holding a colorful, fruit filled cocktail and a beer bottle.
Bucky takes his seat next to you, beer bottle in hand. He lets out a sigh of relief as he lays back in his chair. 
“So, not to be rude, but is Bucky your real name?”
“My full name is James Buchanan Barnes, if you must know. All my friends and family call me Bucky.” 
You nod and take a sip of your drink. 
“Man, it’s hot,” Bucky takes a drink from his bottle before setting it down and reaching down to grab the bottom of his shirt. You find it’s your turn to stare as he pulls it over his head, exposing tan skin and rippling muscle. Bucky gives you a cocky smirk when he notices you staring with your drink frozen midair, on its way to your mouth. 
You quickly avert your eyes and feel the familiar dusting of pink return to your cheeks. 
“Like what you see, doll?”
You simply shake your head at his teasing and smile, flustered as can be.
“So what do you do for work, Bucky?”
“Well I was in the army until a couple years ago. Now I’m a mechanic, I got my own shop with my buddies.” 
You make a mental note to thank the army for mandating PT as you watch a drop of sweat roll down Bucky’s washboard abs.  
“Is that who you’re here with?”
“Yeah. Me and Steve have known each other since we were little, actually. We met Sam when we joined up and after we all got out we opened up shop together,” a reminiscent smile plays upon his lips. “Those two knuckleheads are basically family. We decided to take a trip to celebrate the shop’s one year anniversary.”
“Speaking of family, do you have any?”
“My, uh,” his brows furrow, “my dad died when I was little, but I have a mom and a sister who’s a little younger than me. About your age, probably.” 
His expression returns to normal in a split second, “Enough about me. Do you have family?”
“Yeah, but I moved away for college and never went back home.”
“Where’s home?”
“Ohio. I live in New York now.”
Bucky seems almost excited at this bit of information. 
“Is that so?” he raises an eyebrow. “I live in Brooklyn.”
“Me too,” you share a smile.
Needing a break from the sweltering sun, you stand and grab your drink. 
“I'm getting in the pool, care to join?”
Bucky wordlessly stands and follows you to the pool, smiling. You walk down the steps, drink in hand. Bucky, however, stops at the edge of the pool and watches you. 
“You coming in or what?”
“In a minute, doll.”
Surprisingly, the pool isn’t that crowded. It’s huge, so the people that are in the pool are able to spread out and stay out of each other’s way. 
It’s only once you’re standing in the pool, water up to your bikini top, that Bucky decides to enter. 
Via cannonball. 
You register what he’s about to do as he jumps in the air and wraps his hands around his knees and you yell at him, Barnes don’t you dare! but it’s too late. Next thing you know, you’re drenched. Your hair and face are soaked and there’s pool water in your drink.
Bucky emerges from under the water, smirk dancing across his lips. His expression falters for a second when he notices your angry expression, but you can’t keep the smile from your face when he shakes his hair out like a wet dog. 
“You ruined my drink.”
“I’ll buy you another,” he says, taking the drink out of your hands and setting it on the edge of the pool. 
He walks closer and closer to you until you’re just inches apart. He tentatively moves his hands under the water until they’re resting on your bare hips. His grip is soft, barely there. He’s giving you a chance to reject his touch, but all you do is gently move into his hands. 
His grip becomes more firm and his eyes light up with a glint of mischief. Before you know what hit you, you’re being lifted out of the water, Bucky’s muscles flexing as he raises you up. Before you have a chance to stop him - as if you’d stand any chance against his nearly super human physique - he launches you back into the water. 
When you emerge from the water, you see Bucky nearly doubled over laughing at the angry expression on your face. You really do try your best to be mad at him, but his shimmering smile and the crinkles in the corners of his eyes makes it hard. 
“What. The. Hell,” you make your way back to him and move to smack his chest. Bucky has quick reflexes, though, and you find that your hand is trapped between one of his own and his muscular pec. 
“That was revenge for the way you’ve been staring at me all morning when I’m unable to do anything about it.”
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his flirty words in an effort to keep up your mad facade.
“What if I drowned Bucky?” you deadpan.
“Wouldn’t let that happen,” he says matter-of-factly. 
“Well, you’re still a jerk.”
“A jerk who’s talking to the prettiest girl in this resort,” he counters with a shit-eating grin.
Bucky drops his hand and, instead of moving yours away, you wrap both your arms around the back of his neck. 
“Not for much longer if you pull another stunt like that, Barnes.”
“Sorry, doll,” the amused grin he’s still sporting makes you doubt his apology.
His hands return to your hips and he pulls you closer. He’s a fair bit taller than you and you have to tilt your head up to look at him. The sun is reflected in his ocean blue eyes and water drips down his face, getting caught in the scruff spanning his jaw. 
Bucky leans down and lifts one of his hands to gently grab your chin between two long fingers. He softly directs you toward his own face. You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down to his pink, pillowy lips. You close the rest of the distance on your own. 
Bucky is quick to kiss you back after your lips meet his. He caresses your lips with his own and he moves his hand to the back of your neck, pressing you against him harder. He swipes his tongue across your lips and you part them for him. You let out a small moan into his mouth and he gently takes your bottom lip between his teeth.
He pulls away, letting your lip free. You feel a throb in between your legs when he gives your neck a quick squeeze before letting his hand fall back to his own person. 
“Fuck, doll. Don’t make me throw you into the water again.” He waits until he thinks you’re not looking before reaching down to adjust his swim trunks.
“You started it,” you reply as you make your way to the steps and climb out of the pool. “I need another drink,” you make sure to sway your hips as you walk back toward the bar, not needing to look back to know he’s watching. 
You lean against the bar and are waiting to be helped when you suddenly feel a hand on your hip. You turn around and expect to see Bucky, only to be met with the sight of a man you’ve never seen before.
“Can I help you?” you remove the man’s hand from you.
“Nice bikini, baby. Lemme buy you a drink,” the slur in his words and his unsteady stance letting you know that he’s certainly not sober.
“No, thanks,” you turn back to the bar, making it clear you’re not interested. 
The man either doesn’t get the hint or decides to keep trying anyway, because you feel both his hands land on your hips this time. He steps closer to you, his chest pressed up against your back.
Just as you’re preparing to throw an elbow into the man’s ribs, you feel his hands being ripped off of you. You turn around to see the man falling to the ground, Bucky standing over him. 
“Get up,” Bucky demands, looking down.
The man, surprisingly, manages to get back on his feet and gives Bucky a death glare. Before he has a chance to give Bucky a piece of his mind, as you’re sure he was about to, Bucky grabs him by the collar of his shirt and leans into the man’s ear. He says something too quiet for you to hear and emphasizes it by using his grip on the man’s shirt to shake him. A few people around you are starting to stare.
The man’s face goes slack and he nods in response to whatever Bucky had said. Bucky shoves the man away and he nearly falls to the ground again. Bucky stares him down as he turns and walks away. Once he’s sure the man isn’t coming back, he returns his attention to you. Thankfully, everyone’s attention seems to be back to whatever they were doing before the commotion.
“You okay, doll? I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” you give him a half smile to let him know you’re okay, just sick of men thinking they have a right to touch you. “I’m okay.”
“You still want another drink? Told you I’d buy it,” he goes to flag down the bartender. 
You gently rest your hand on his bicep and he looks at you “Thank you, Buck,” you hope your genuine expression conveys that you’re not just thanking him for the drink.
He gives you a curt nod, “Don’t mention it. Just trying to be a gentleman.”
A few minutes later, armed with another round of drinks, you and Bucky are making your way back to the lounge chairs.
“So where are your friends today?” you inquire.
“Finally got those punks outta my hair for a little while. They went to hike up some mountain. Or maybe it was a volcano, I really don’t know.”
“You didn’t want to go with them?”
“I-uh,” he rubs a hand across the back of his neck, “let’s just say heights aren’t really my thing,” an adorable redness spreads across his face.
You nod, deciding to spare him any further embarrassment from teasing. The two of you sit down on the sides of your chairs, facing each other. 
“So why are you here?”
You figured the question would arise eventually, but you had been dreading telling him the reason. It just sounds embarrassing to admit that you’re attending your ex’s wedding. 
“I’m actually here for a wedding.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s getting married? Not you, I hope,” Bucky chuckles at his own joke but stops when you don’t so much as crack a smile. His face drops and he stares at you for a second before you notice his expression.
“No. God- no. I’m not engaged, Bucky. Very much single. It’s my ex’s wedding.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “Oh, wow,” you can tell he’s unsure how to respond.
“I’ve hardly talked to him since the breakup a few years ago. We’re on good terms, though. Actually ate breakfast with him and his fiancee this morning.”
“Well that’s good, I guess. That you’re on good terms, I mean. Why did you choose to come? Sorry if I’m being nosy, you dont have to answer.” “No, it’s fine. It’s a little weird, I get it. For the most part, it was a good excuse to take a vacation and hopefully see some old friends. It’s not like I still have feelings for Brock or anything, so I really couldn’t care less that he’s getting married. His fiancee seems nice enough. And things went okay this morning, so I’m hopeful that things won’t be too awkward at the wedding. Plus there’ll be an open bar at the reception,” you crack a smile.
Bucky listens and nods along. “Well I hope everything goes okay. I’m certainly not complaining that you’re here,” he gives you a soft smile.
Sunbathing next to Bucky and sharing laughter-filled conversation leaves you with such a serene feeling that you physically feel lighter and your mind feels clearer. You decide in that moment that this vacation was definitely worth it, you can feel your mental health improving by the hour.
At one point, you doze off and are woken to Bucky’s hand gently shaking your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him leaning over you, radiant smile on his face. 
“Probably shouldn’t stay out here too long or you’ll burn to a crisp.”
You sit up and nod, “Good point.”
You and Bucky get dressed and gather your things before depositing your towels in the proper bin and heading inside the hotel. Once you and Bucky reach your floor, you stand and shuffle your feet, unsure of what to do next. Bucky sets a hand on your arm and you look up at him. 
“My friends and I are going out to dinner tonight and, I’m sorry if this seems weird, but would you want to come with us? You don’t have to say yes, just thought I’d throw it out there,” he has a nervous look on his face and he chews on his lip while he waits for an answer.
You couldn’t be more thrilled at the fact that he still wants to spend more time with you, even though you’d been together a large chunk of the day already. You want to say yes, both because you have no other plans and because you’d love to spend more time with the man in front of you, but you don’t want to seem overly eager. 
“Yeah, I’d like that. Only if you’re sure your friends won’t mind, that is.”
Bucky looks almost relieved and gives you a boyish grin. “Nah, Steve and Sam will be fine. I’m sure you guys will get along great.”
“Okay, Buck, looking forward to it.”
“Can’t wait, doll. I’ll meet you here at seven.”
Bucky seems to hesitate for a moment, but then leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips, which you happily return. He pulls back and heads off to his room.
“See you tonight, sweetheart.”
You decide you have a bit of time before you need to start getting ready for dinner, so you grab your book and sit out on the balcony. You find that you have a hard time focusing on the words in front of you, though. The ocean waves and palm trees blowing in the breeze paired with the distant sounds of laughter and music coming from below makes for a pleasant distraction. Before you know it, it’s 6:45 and you scramble to get back inside and start getting dressed. 
It isn’t until you’re searching through your clothes that you realize you don’t know where you’re going for dinner or how to dress. You only packed three dresses, a sundress, the dress you’re wearing to the wedding, and the one you decide on for tonight.
The black dress comes down to your knees with a slit up the thigh. It’s tight and shows off your curves. The back is open, with straps crossing in the center of your shoulder blades. The cut in the front is low enough that it shows off your cleavage while maintaining a classy enough appearance. 
You decide to dress it up with heels - also black. They’re only a couple inches tall, so you can still walk in them somewhat comfortably. You’re thankful that you packed a decent selection of jewelry and throw on some silver earrings and a necklace.
You take a quick look at yourself in the mirror and can’t help but smile - damn you look good. You grab your clutch and open your door. You nearly walk into Bucky as you step into the hallway. 
Bucky is wearing tight grey dress pants with a snug-fitting short sleeve black button up. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a peek of the toned chest hiding beneath. He’s paired the outfit with a black belt and matching shoes. He speaks before you have a chance to compliment him.
“Doll,” he looks you up and down, eyes wide, “wow. You look gorgeous.”
You feel yourself flush as you thank him. 
“You look really good too, Buck. Where’s Steve and Sam?”
“I told them to wait downstairs for us. Wanted to prepare you for them. They can be a bit,” he pauses, searching for the right word, “much, sometimes. I told them to be on their best behavior tonight. They just have a way of embarrassing people, Sam especially. I’m sure they’ll be teasing me nonstop, so just ignore anything they say.”
You chuckle lightly, “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
You and Bucky step into the elevator and take turns sneaking glaces at each other. Just before you reach the ground floor, Bucky leans over you, effectively trapping you between him and the elevator wall. Even in your heels, he has to lean down to be eye level with you. “I mean it, doll, you look stunning,” his eyes search yours, “Can I kiss you?”
You respond by closing the distance between the two of you. He reaches up and places a hand on the back of your head, holding you to him. The feel of his soft lips on yours makes you forget where you are. All too soon, the elevator door is opening and before you and Bucky have a chance to break away from each other, you hear a whistle.
“Damn, Barnes! Moving quick!” 
Bucky quickly steps away from you but stays in front of you, shielding you while you take a second to collect yourself. 
“Shut it, Sam,” Bucky says sternly. You don’t miss the red that creeps up the back of his neck. Nor do you miss how his tight pants do wonders for his ass.
After a second you step out from behind Bucky and extend a hand to the man, deciding to play it off.
“So you must be Sam,” you introduce yourself as he shakes your hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Steve responds when you shake his hand.
Steve and Sam lead the way out of the resort and you trail behind with Bucky. 
“We heard about this place some locals recommended that’s supposed to be really good. We’re gonna take a taxi there. That okay with you?”
“Sounds great,” you smile up at him.
The four of you wait in front of the resort for the taxi. 
“So,” Steve says your name, “you really spent all day with Bucky and he hasn’t made a fool of himself yet?”
“Whoa whoa whoa, I never said that. He’s lucky I’m even here right not after he threw me into the pool earlier. Although he did almost get into a fist fight defending me, so I guess it cancels out.”
Sam gives Bucky a grin, “Attaboy.”
“When me and Buck were younger, I used to get myself into all kinds of trouble and Bucky would have to end up kicking some dude’s ass for me almost daily,” Steve reminisces.
Bucky huffs and nods his head, “Punk dragged me into all kinds of trouble. Believe it or not, he wasn’t always this big. Needed to help him out or he woulda ended up bleeding out in an alley somewhere in Brooklyn.”
Steve’s cheeks heat up, but you have trouble picturing the man in front of you as anything other than he is now - huge and intimidating. 
After a couple minutes of getting to know Steve and Sam a little bit, the taxi arrives. It’s a five seater car, Steve sits in the front with the driver and you, Bucky, and Sam climb into the back. Bucky sits in between you and Sam. The car is plenty roomy enough, but Bucky makes sure to sit close enough that his thigh is pressed up against yours. The drive is short and Steve pays the driver when you arrive. Everyone gets out of the car. Bucky offers you his elbow and you link your arm in his. He leads the four of you into the building.
“Hi, we have a reservation for Barnes.”
The hostess leads you out back to the outdoor seating and your jaw drops. The palm tree surrounded patio is right on the beach and you have a perfect view of the sun setting on the water. Fairy lights and tiki torches give the place a soft glow. A live band plays soft Hawaiian music on a stage. 
Once you reach your table, the hostess sets down menus and silverware, before heading back inside. Bucky unlinks his arm from yours and he pulls out a chair for you. Before you sit, you turn to him.
“Bucky, this place is beautiful.”
“Glad you like it, darling.”
You sit and Bucky takes the seat next to you. By the time you snap out of your awestruck trance, Sam and Steve are both holding menus and arguing about something. You go to pick up a menu and notice Bucky’s eyes trained on you. He gives you a smile before looking down at his own menu. 
The waitress comes to take drink orders and the three men all order whiskey. You decide to get something other than a fruity cocktail.
“I’ll have the same,” you say when the server looks to you. 
You notice the way all three of their eyebrows jump at your choice. The waitress leaves and Bucky gently sets a hand just above your knee. He turns to look at you, as if asking for permission and you give him a reassuring smile. Conversation flows and when the waitress returns with the drinks, Sam and Steve immediately take a sip of theirs. Bucky’s eyes fall on you as you raise the glass to your lips. You keep eye contact with him as you take a drink, holding a straight face. You see of flash of something dark flash in his eyes and he moves his hand higher up your thigh and gives it a firm squeeze. 
You continue to read the menu and decide on seafood - you have to, you’re in Hawaii - and so does everyone else at the table. It is the restaurant’s specialty, after all. By the time the waitress comes to take your order, the four of you are all getting along great.
“So you guys all work on cars, huh?” 
“And bikes,” Sam nods at you.
“Do you guys all have motorcycles?” you glance around the table.
“Yeah, we do,” Bucky confirms.
You can easily picture him leather-clad, thick thighs straddling a Harley and his hand resting on the throttle. The thought makes you clench your thighs together and, based on the way Bucky’s thumb begins to rub circles into your thigh and he smirks at you, you assume he notices. 
“So what do you have planned for the rest of the week?” Steve questions you, oblivious to Bucky’s hand on you underneath the table.
“Well I’m going snorkeling tomorrow. I also want to hit the beach, maybe take a surf lesson. Horseback riding and hiking sounds fun too, though. What all have you guys done?”
“Well,” Sam starts, “we just got in yesterday, so we haven’t really done much yet.”
“Oh, so you guys got here the same day I did, then. When are you guys leaving?”
“Saturday, how about you?” Bucky answers you. 
“Sunday morning.”
“I’m sure you’ll be sick of Bucky by then,” Sam chortles.
Thinking about spending the rest of the week with Bucky puts a smile on your face and you hope he wants to spend more time with you, too. Eventually, the food comes and you all dig in. It’s so delicious that you’re not even mad about how expensive it was. Bucky lets out a groan of delight as he takes his first bite. 
“This is so good, doll. You want to try?” 
You nod and he raises his fork to your lips. He feeds you a bite of his food and you agree, it is delicious. You pull your attention away from Bucky just in time to see Sam whispering something into Steve’s ear, to which Steve chortles and nods.
“What are you guys talking about?” Bucky returns his attention to his friends.
“Nothing, man,” Steve dismisses him.
Bucky shoots them a warning look but drops it. 
The rest of the meal is filled with stories from their time in the army and Steve informs you that Bucky was a sergeant. You’re thankful that they don’t pressure you with too many questions about your boring life back in the city. The conversation flows easy and after a couple more rounds of drinks, the four of you are laughing so hard that you’re drawing attention from other tables. When everyone finishes eating, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and find your waitress. You give her your credit card, insisting that she charges the bill to your card.
You’d been having a great time with Bucky and his friends so far and you wanted to thank them for inviting you to have dinner with them. They had been so welcoming to you and have made your trip less lonely, even if only for one night. You return to the table.
When the waitress comes back to your table, she returns your credit card to you and the three men share a confused look.
Bucky cocks his head at you, “Did you pay for yourself already, doll? I was going to.”
“She actually covered the whole table,” the server informs them before leaving.
“Wait, what? You paid for us all?” Steve asks in disbelief.
Sam looks to you, waiting for an answer. Bucky just looks at you, brows furrowed. 
“Yeah. I just wanted to thank you guys for being so inviting. I enjoyed hanging out with you all tonight,” you look down at the table, feeling almost as if you’d done something wrong. 
Sam says your name, “That was really unnecessary, but thank you. We enjoyed your company. We get sick of each other, it was nice to have you join us. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah,” Steve concurs, “I’m glad you could come. You really didn’t have to do that, but thank you, sincerely.”
“It’s not a big deal, guys. It was no problem.”
You turn to look at Bucky. He’s still in the same position - eyes trained on you and brows furrowed. You worry you’ve done something wrong and gently reach between the two of you and take his hand in yours. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and finally speaks. 
“Thank you,” you can tell there’s more he wants to say, though. Your group stands and heads to the front to wait for another taxi. After you step out the front doors, Bucky softly grabs your arm, holding you back. Steve and Sam continue walking. 
“Thank you for paying, I really appreciate the gesture. But I invited you tonight because I enjoy spending time with you and I wanted you to meet my friends. You shouldn’t have had to pay for your own dinner tonight, let alone everyone else’s. I do appreciate it, though, and I know Steve and Sam did too,” he gives you a sincere look and you sheepishly look down at the ground. He lifts his hand to cup your face and tilts it up to him, forcing you to make eye contact. “But all that being said, don’t you dare try and pull that again,” he says in a more authoritative tone.
You feel a wetness forming in your panties at the soft yet demanding tone he uses. You’re too shocked at the sudden dominance that you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod up at him. 
“Good girl,” he praises in a low voice.
“You guys coming or what?” you hear Sam’s voice call.
You hadn’t even realized that taxi had arrived. Bucky leans down and presses a kiss to your lips before leading you to the car with a hand on the small of your back. Bucky sits inbetween you and Sam again and rests a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to slipping underneath the hem of your dress that had ridden halfway up your thighs. All you can focus on the whole car ride back to the resort is the feel of Bucky’s calloused hands on your leg and the pulsing at the apex of your thighs.
After what feels like hours, the cars pulls to a stop in front of the resort and you step out of car, followed by Bucky, who places his hand back on you immediately after he gets out. Steve and Sam make conversation, Bucky occasionally making a noncommittal grunt in response. After the elevator brings all of you to the fifth floor, Steve and Sam say goodnight and thank you again for dinner. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s hand tightens around your hip when they mention you paying for dinner. You say goodnight to them and they look at Bucky, probably expecting him to say goodnight and follow them back to their rooms. 
You’re not quite sure what you expect Bucky to do, but all you know is that the tension is thicker than Bucky’s biceps that are currently straining against his shirt sleeves.
“I’ll catch up with you guys in a little bit,” he tells his friends without taking his eyes off you.
“Okayyy,” Steve drags out the word as him and Sam turn and walk away, muttering and laughing to themselves.
Once you and Bucky are alone in the hall, he gently backs you up against the wall. He leaves one hand on your hips and tangles the other in your hair. He pulls you into a kiss that you fervently reciprocate. You’re sure that your panties are soaked at this point. You clench your thighs together, desperate for some friction. Bucky spreads your legs with his knee and slots his thigh against your center, forcing your dress to rise up. You moan into his mouth at the relief and buck your hips into him, your drenched underwear are dragging across his pants and you’re sure they’ll leave a dark spot from your arousal. 
Bucky pulls away from the kiss, but pushes his thigh harder against you. He leans down to whisper in your ear. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” his voice is filled with lust, “Rutting up against my thigh in the middle of the hallway, skirt up so anyone can see how soaked your panties are for me.”
You whimper into Bucky’s ear. It turns you on to hear such filthy things coming from his usually polite mouth.
“Please, Bucky,” you beg, desparate for release.
“Please what, babydoll? Tell me what you need,” he demands.
He presses his bulge into your stomach and you can’t string together a sentence.
“I know, honey. You just wanna come, huh?” he looks down at you with a pitying expression and you nod your head so hard you get dizzy, too fuzzy-headed to care how desperate you look. He chuckles at you, “Say it. Tell me you need me to take care of you.”
“Please, Bucky! Make me come, take care of me. Just do something, please!” you sound absolutely wrecked and the groan Bucky lets out while he rocks his hips into you lets you know he gets off on it. 
“Fuck. Unlock your door, princess,” he tells you, pulling away and waiting by your door.
You’re surprised at how quickly you manage to dig you key card out of your purse and open the door in your aroused state. As soon as the door is open, Bucky grabs you and spins you around to face him.
“Jump,” he orders.
You drop throw your purse onto the table and wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck before jumping. He catches you by the backs of your thighs and effortlessly carries you to the bed, peppering kisses along your face and neck the whole way.
He throws you onto the bed and pulls off your shoes, placing a kiss to each of your shins. He then flips you onto your stomach and unties your dress. The way he manhandles you so easily sends a fresh gush of arousal to your core. He helps you shimmy out of your dress as he kicks off his shoes. You’re left in only your panties and he takes in the sight of your practically naked body and groans. He uses one hand to undo his belt and uses the other to reach down and palm your breast. 
“Goddamn, babydoll. No bra?” 
You don’t have the mental capacity to explain that you wouldn’t have been able to wear one with the open back dress, settling instead for reaching up and pulling him down by his collar until he’s straddling your hips. He leans back and unbuttons his shirt, exposing his broad chest and defined abs one button at a time, throwing it to the floor when he’s done. He has a dark trail of hair leading down into his dress pants where you can see the large outline of his hardened cock. He leans down atop of you, veiny forearms resting on either side of your head. 
He snakes a hand down between the two of you and dips his fingers in the waistband. “Can I take these off, babydoll?”
You nod and reach to his neck, trying to pull him down for a kiss. Much to your dismay, he doesn’t budge. 
“Need words, honey.”
“Yes Bucky, please.”
“Good girl,” he rewards you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.
His hand makes its way beneath your panties and he runs a finger through your abundant wetness, dragging it up to your clit. He uses your slick to rub circles into the sensitive bud. He pulls away from the kiss and you try to chase his mouth. He stops you by holding your head to the mattress with a hand on your jaw. He squeezes your cheeks until your mouth opens. He looks down at you and spits directly into your mouth.
“Swallow for me, baby.”
You follow his order without a second thought. Once you swallow, he brings his hand down to your neck. He rewards you by bringing a finger to your entrance and slowly pushing into your tight hole. 
“Fuck, doll. I wanna be in this perfect little pussy. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up with my big cock? Wanna feel me deep inside you?”
“Yes, Bucky! Fu- I want it so-fuck so bad.”
He quickly adds a second finger and begins pumping them inside you at a brutal pace. His hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly and he watches your face to gauge your reaction. When your eyes roll back into your head and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, he grins and tightens his grip a little more.
The lack of blood flow to your head makes you feel fuzzy in the best way. You feel yourself getting close to your orgasm. Bucky keeps his pace as he fucks you on his fingers and keeps a careful eye on you, watching for the telltale signals of your climax. When he sees you squeeze your eyes shut and feels your pussy clench, he pulls his hand out altogether. 
You look up at Bucky and loosens his grip on your neck, but keeps his hand resting there. You buck your hips up, your orgasm fading away rapidly. Bucky uses one hand to pin your hips to the bed.
“Bucky, no,” you whine, “I was so close.”
“I know, doll,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. “You were a bad girl earlier when you paid for dinner. You’re supposed to let me treat you. Let me take care of you. You wouldn’t let me take care of you then, so I’m not sure I should take care of you now.”
“Bucky please,” you beg, “Won’t do it again, promise. Just-nngh just take care of me please. Need you to make me come,” you hope your pleading is enough to convince him.
Bucky lets out a deep groan and smashes his lips against yours. He makes his way down your torso, stopping to pay special attention to your nipples. He ever so softly bites down on your nipple and you thread your fingers through his hair. He continues to trail kisses down your stomach. When he reaches your panties, he places wet kisses against the soaked fabric. You try to buck up into his mouth, but his hand is still pinning you down.
Finally, he reaches into the waistband of your panties and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs and throw them on the floor with your dress. You get another glimpse of the rock-hard bulge in his dress pants and you know that can’t be comfortable for him, but his attention is all on you right now. He makes himself comfortable between your legs and uses his hands to spread your pussy apart, getting a good look at it.
“Fucking perfect. Prettiest damn pussy I’ve ever seen, baby.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, his lips are on you. He sucks your clit into his mouth and flicks at it with his tongue. You grab onto his hair with one hand and grab the sheets with the other. The screams you let out are almost pornographic. He alternates between licking your arousal up from where it’s seeping out of your hole and giving your sensitive clit attention. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, you feel yourself returning to the edge of the orgasm you’d just been denied. 
He laps at your core and uses both hands to hold your hips down onto the bed. When your heavy breathing and the movement of your hips give away your oncoming orgasm, he pulls away again. 
“NOO,” you practically scream, on the verge of tears. “Bucky,” you sob. 
“That one was for giving me a hard on at dinner when you downed that whiskey.”
Before you have a chance to complain anymore, he places one last kiss on your clit and stands from the bed. You watch as he undoes his pants and they pool at his ankles. You can see a wet spot on his boxers where he’d been leaking precum. He drops those too and you’re met with the sight of him. His cock bobs up against his stomach.
He’s thick and long, with a patch of dark curly hair at his base. The tip is pink and shiny with his arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight and you want nothing more than to lick it off, but he crawls back onto the bed before you can make any move to do so. He hovers over you and you can feel the weight of his cock resting on your lower stomach. 
“You want this, honey? Want to come all over my cock? Want me to fuck you so hard you can’t walk in the morning?” he ruts against your stomach, waiting for a response.
“Please, Bucky. ‘S all I want. Ah- fuck. Need it so bad. I need to come.”
“I got you, sweet girl,” he gives you a reassuring look as he grabs his base and guides himself to your drenched core.
He pushes his fat tip into you, watching your face for any signs of pain. You’re so wet and aroused that he almost slides right in. You try to push your hips down, desparate to feel him deeper. He’s quick to pin you down again. 
“Greedy girl.”
He eases himself into you at his own pace until his hips are flush against yours. You feel his pubic hair rubbing at your clit and begin to claw at his back, needing him to move.
“Fuck me, Bucky. Ah- god damn it,” you look up at him with pleading eyes, “Need you to move, baby.”
For the first time tonight, he listens to one of your demands. He slowly pulls all the way out, letting you feel every inch of his cock before he slams back in so hard it pushes you up the mattress. He braces himself with one arm on the bed and holds your hip with his other hand and sets a brutal pace. He thrusts deep and hard, tip pounding against your cervix with every punishing thrust. He moves the hand on your hip to rub at your clit.
“I’m not gonna last long baby. Fuck- be ah- be a good girl and come for me.”
You’re not far off and when he hits that spongy spot inside of you, you let out a scream. 
“Fuck, right there!” you pant.
He rubs at your clit and thrusts into your g-spot. You feel yourself hurdling toward your orgasm for the third time tonight. Except this time, when you clamp down around Bucky’s cock, he redoubles his efforts instead of stopping. You see stars when you reach your peak and you drag your nails down Bucky’s back. 
“Such a good girl for me, fuck. Where-ah where do you want me baby?”
“Inside, Bucky, please,” you want to know what it feels like to be full of his cum. “I’m on the pill.”
“Fuck, doll. So fucking good for me. My girl’s so good.”
You don’t miss the way he calls you his girl. And you certainly don’t mind it.
Bucky’s thrusts become shallow and his pace falters. He slams into you one last time and buries himself as deep as he can before shooting hot ropes of his seed into you. Once he empties his balls into you, he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so as not to crush you. He slots his lips against yours and the two of you share breaths as you come down from your highs.
Once the two of you have caught your breath, he slowly pulls out of you. He places a kiss on your forehead and walks to the bathroom. You eye the dimples in his buttcheeks as he walks away. He returns shortly with a wet cloth and kneels between your thighs. He gingerly cleans his mess, aware of how sensitive you are. 
When he finishes, he throws the cloth onto the floor and climbs up the bed to join you. You climb under the sheets and fold them over on the other side, offering Bucky the space. He happily lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest.
“You’re beautiful, doll. I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did.”
“It was so good, Buck,” you manage to respond in your exhausted state. 
“I’m sure you’d enjoy it more if I didn’t have to punish you, too,” you can’t see his face, but you know he has a cocky smirk on his face.
“You’ll have to show me, then.”
“Oh, believe me, sweet girl, I plan to.”
You fall asleep against Bucky’s strong chest, his hand scratching soothingly at your back.
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lazyjellyfish300 · 15 days
Text
The Woman He Didn't Choose Part 5 🥀
AU Bachelor!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Contestant!Reader
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Synopsis: You're on the show: Singles in Paradise. Former Bachelor!Miguel has some heavy news to break to you about your new relationship with Peter B., along with contending with his lingering feelings for you. He's racing against the clock as the rose ceremony is about to commence that night, and all of the drama is approaching a boiling point. Word count 6.4k
A/N: If you're unfamiliar with the show Bachelor in Paradise, here's a clip to give you an idea. Basically, it's another dating show usually in a tropical location where single people couple up, and new arrivals come in every so often and ask people on dates to shake things up, leading to drama and chaos, and couples can choose to stay together or break up in the end and there's typically an engagement. DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS TO THE SHOWS THE BACHELOR OR BACHELOR IN PARADISE, ALL RIGHTS TO THE OWNERS. I CHANGED THE NAME OF THE SHOW IN THE STORY.
Part 1(contains links to previous parts)
TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, DRAMA, DRUNKENNESS ,MISCOMMUNICATION, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CHEATING, BULLYING(NAME CALLING, TRASH TALKING BEHIND BACKS), FIGHTING(PUNCHING, SPIT IN FACE, CAT FIGHT) MILD VIOLENCE, BLOOD, MENTION OF ORAL SEX BUT NO SMUT, MENTION OF DADDY ISSUES
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You and Felicia were at least 3 strawberry daiquiris deep, and they were working their tasty magic. You both were giggling loudly, slapping each other's thighs, trying to hold each other up on the couch you were lounging on in the common area when an unwelcome visitor made his way into the room.
"Well look who it is!" Felicia says in a goofy voice, making you nearly spit out your drink.
"PPPFFFFT", You let out a mixture of a guffaw and cough as she pounds your back with her palm in a drunken effort to help you regain composure.
Miguel's face softens a little bit at the sight of you two enjoying yourselves. Thank God for the cocktails otherwise you wouldn't have even let him be in the same room as you.
You look at Miguel with teary eyes. "Whaddup big guy? What, what can I do you for, on this....the night of the grand rose ceremony?" You channel your inner Godfather as you slur your words, which makes Felicia nearly choke on her drink this time.
Miguel shakes his head. "We need to talk."
"Ahhhh...." you say, shaking your head back at him, tutting your teeth. "Too late, Muscles. Can I call you Muscles?"
Miguel rubs the back of his neck and tries to stifle a sigh. "Sure, that's fine. Now can we go talk?"
"Whoa, whoa." You bring a finger to his lips, silencing him and he lets out a defeated sigh. "I won't leave here with just anyone. I'm in a relationship."
Miguel gently reaches down, removing your hand from his face in a delicate yet firm grip, "Yes, I'm aware..."
At that point you almost fall off the couch. Felicia's laughing too hard and trying not to pee in the fetal position to help. Miguel catches you, helping you up with both of his forearms underneath your armpits. You catch a whiff of his scent as you fall back against his chest, making you a little delirious.
"Be more careful..." Miguel murmurs to you. "Here." He plops you on an empty chair, his hands gentle as they run up your calves and remove your tall wedge sandals and takes them in his hand, offering you the other. Your heart skips a beat at his touch but you attempt to conceal it with an eyeroll as you let him help you stand up.
"Be right back girl!" You call to Felicia, who raises her cocktail glass to you.
"Mkayyyy!"
The beachy evening breeze of the nighttime hits your face a little bit, making you close your eyes and sigh. Despite all the drama that had been plaguing you as of late, it sure felt good to be in such a gorgeous place as this.
Miguel's walking silently next to you, his mind agonizing over the distressing news he needs to break to you but stops and stands next to you, his shoulders relaxing at little at your content disposition, how endearing it is to watch you wiggle your toes in the sand. A smile on your face for once instead of tears.
After several moments, your eyes flutter open and you go to take a step forward, however your abrupt movement doesn't mix well with the liquor still running in your veins and you trip a little, Miguel catching you once again.
"Alright, that's it..." Miguel sighs and sweeps you into a bridal style carry, effortlessly cradling you in those beefy arms of his as he walks you further down the beach.
You look at him with heavy eyelids, an expression of amusement and impression with his strength on your face. "Well damn, I knew you were strong, Muscles, but I wasn't expecting that," You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.
Just how many shots were in those daiquiris? Miguel wonders as he continues to saunter forwards with you in his arms, trying not to focus on the growing heat in his face as you nuzzle a little closer into his chest.
Once you come closer to an unoccupied daybed near the pool, you give him a little tap on his arm to signal you want to be put down. He sets you carefully on the cushions and plops down next to you in silence, pressing his fingertips together in concentration as he looks at his feet, trying to form his words.
You look lazily at the changing underwater lights in the pool, as it hypnotically changes the water from green, to blue, purple, pink, and red, tropical winds gently brushing the palm trees and the distant sound of rushing waves coming from the beach down below.
Miguel finally speaks, his tone serious. "I don't want to do this, but there's something important you should know before the rose ceremony."
You blow air out of your cheeks, the liquor still had a hold on you but you were starting to get annoyed by this unwelcome interruption by this...guy. Whoever he was, he was majorly cramping your style and killing the good mood you were in.
"Look mister, if you're trying to get a rose and not go home, you're a little late for that," you say with a yawn, standing up.
Miguel stands up too, saying your name in a stern voice then cursing and turning around with his hands on his head muttering to himself. "She's way too drunk for this...okay."
He turns back around facing you, starting over from scratch again. "I'm not trying to get a rose from you." He says, looking into your eyes. "I'm not expecting anything from you tonight. You made it very clear earlier that you were upset with me, which I don't blame you for... even though someone completely got it wrong and told you before I could explain myself..."
You let out a loud groan, clasping your temples with your fingertips. "Give me the condensed version, Muscles, please. You're giving me a migraine."
Miguel exhales quickly with a small scoff then shakes his head. "Okay, okay..." He makes a small sigh of displeasure and continues, slowly as if he were approaching a sea of eggshells.
"I...just need to get this off my chest and tell you the truth so you don't make the wrong choice tonight, that's all." His hands move to the surrender position and you tilt your head.
"What do you mean?"
Miguel exhales slowly as the camera zooms in on his face, his heart pounding so tremendously against his ribs it was a wonder how the sound didn't leak through the microphone he was wearing.
"After you and Felicia left, Peter B., Dana, Ben, and I were at the bonfire. They were all drinking. I got up, and went to the bathroom and was walking down the main path back to the fire pit. You know where I'm talking about right?"
You nod, going to fiddle with a loose thread on your dress, a slight anxious twinge in your belly that sets your heartbeat on a gradual acceleration. Where is this going?
"Anyway, I saw Peter B. and Dana in the bushes tonight...they were together."
You blink.
Miguel looks at you with the same blank expression, but he's in disbelief at your lack of reaction.
"He was going down on her... he's playing you behind your back." He waits, his eyes searching yours, hoping you got the message, on the edge of his seat.
Your eyes flicker up and look back into his. "And I should believe you...why?"
Miguel's face turns red with emotion, taking a step closer to you. "Why would I lie about something like this?"
His tone is quiet, but it's laced with frustration. "Look, you have to make this call on your own but I'm telling you right now. I saw him with her, he's cheating on you. He's not the guy you think he is and frankly, giving him a rose tonight would be the biggest mistake of your life."
"Miguel..." you whisper closing your eyes.
Miguel exhales, the alcohol released its hold on you a little. "There, see...you do understand me." He gets a little closer. "I'm just trying to look out for you."
"Yeah, and you also told me you didn't like Dana yet somehow she ended up all over you in the pool right after I told you I'm going to stay with Peter."
"Oh my God..." Miguel shuts his eyes, running a hand through his hair. "For the last time, I'm not interested in her. She threw herself at me...I don't know who told you otherwise but whoever did got it completely wrong. I swear to you."
"You're saying Ben's a liar?"
"Ben?!" Miguel goes silent as he tries to do calculations in his head, but you already start walking away.
"Okay, I don't know why Ben of all people is telling you that, but he's wrong." Miguel speeds up, walking backwards quickly next to you, still facing you. The camera man once again struggling to keep up with you two.
"I don't like Dana and I've been trying to tell you that. And I'm trying to tell you right now, Peter's not right for you."
"Uh huh, and you also told me that I'm the one in Thailand and proceeded to run over my heart the next day."
"Wait! Ugh....please!"
You stand at the tiki bar on the beach, grabbing the bartender, James' attention. "Strawberry daiquiri please..."
James nods and lowers his head, trying to mix you a drink but can't help but remained tuned in as he works.
Miguel sighs and sits on one of the bar stools. He addresses James. "A beer when you get a chance please? Thank you..."
You two sit in silence for a moment. He speaks again, his voice more quiet. "I needed to tell you because I'm going home tonight."
You look at him, confused. "Why do you say that?"
He sighs. "Nobody here to give me a rose. And it's ladies choice."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm serious."
"What about Dana?"
"If Dana gives me a rose I'm only accepting it so I can stay here and keep an eye on you."
"Miguel, I can handle myself just fine."
"No, you can't. You keep falling for the wrong guys and you're about to make a mistake."
"You were one of them."
Miguel blinks a little rapidly and looks off, trying to act like that didn't sting. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the upset rising in his body, blaming the alcohol in your system and your stress for your scathing remarks.
"I don't know if this is a weird jealousy thing, or you're trying to get back at me, or..." You continue, counting off your fingers as you speak, making some sort of drunken list.
"I'm not jealous." Miguel mumbles, picking at a random notch in the wooden bar.
"I'm gonna just pretend like you literally didn't just lie to me again," you say, also turning away.
"What? Ohhh my God." Miguel takes a deep breath. "Okay, yes, of course I'm jealous of you and Peter. Watching you guys kiss and go on dates. How seemingly happy he makes you when I know I couldn't make you feel like that? Yeah, of fucking course I'm jealous. It hurts."
The corner of your eyes soften a little bit. "Why now though, Miggy? Why do you only chase me after you've hurt me and after I'm trying to move on?"
"I don't know..." Miguel says quietly, rubbing his face. "Because I'm a dumbass? Because I had shitty judgement and I took you for granted. Because I didn't realize how much it would actually hurt to go through everything I put you through this last year?"
You look down, trying to hold in your tears.
Miguel gives you a sorrowful look, "Look... I'm only being stubborn right now because I see myself in you. You're about to make the same mistake I did and choose the wrong person like I did. I don't want you to walk away from this with any regret that'll come back to haunt you later..."
He pauses, running a hand through his hair and looking into your eyes. "And no, I don't expect you to come running back to me after this. No matter how badly I want you to..."
After letting one tear escape, you blink furiously, wiping your eyes, taking care not to ruin your eye makeup any more than it already is. You sit with his words for a while, letting them sink in.
Part of you doesn't feel great hearing that, but a larger part doesn't believe him. No, Peter wouldn't do something like that? Sweet Peter? And with Dana of all people? He clearly dodged her when everyone was in the pool together. There's no way...
Somehow you know you're being overly optimistic, but you decide to tuck it away for now, since there were more pressing matters like the impending rose ceremony which was due to commence at any moment at this late hour.
"Thank you for telling me. But let me handle it on my own. I made tons of allowances for you, Miguel. And I'm going to do the same for him. But if it turns out to be true? I'll deal with it when I deal with it. Have a safe trip home, Miguel."
At that moment, Jason Donner comes around the corner. "There you two are... we're all waiting on you. Cocktail hour's been over for 20 minutes. It's time to head on up to the rose ceremony. You okay?"
Jason tilts his head when he sees your obvious upset on your face.
"Yeah, I'm good." You mumble, quickly shifting past Jason's curious expression, forgetting the daiquiri you were waiting on, Miguel watching you walk away yet again with a solemn face and his heart split in two.
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The group is hanging out outside of the rose ceremony room. Ben and Felicia are talking in hushed voices with Felicia every so often leaning her head towards Dana and Peter B., attempting to eavesdrop their conversation as Dana talks his ear off.
Peter is hardly reacting to her and looks rather nauseous, looking around with glazed, sullen eyes avoiding Felicia's suspicious, piercing gaze, his quickly-sobering thoughts making him slowly realize the gravity of the sin he just committed earlier.
You walk up to Peter, your eyes narrowing and your stomach dropping a tiny bit when you see Dana is standing next to him.
"Oh hey!" Dana says with phony niceness. "Peter and I were just talking about you. Have you been drinking? I can tell. God, that's embarrassing."
"Um, what?" You say, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh my God, I'm just kidding! I didn't mean it in a bad way. Peter was telling me how cute you look when you get all tipsy. Doesn't she look cute right now Peter? Oh my God, now she's getting embarrassed, awhhh that's adorable!"
You roll your eyes and put yourself physically in between him and Dana. Peter's eyes light up a little bit when he sees you, his hand reaching out to take yours and pull you closer, however his expression fades to slight worry when you whisper to him.
"I need to talk to you..."
Unfortunately, your words are cut off when one of the producers takes you by the shoulders. "Sorry, Pete, I'm gonna need to steal her. Hey, we need you to get lined up with the other women now."
You huff out a breath of frustration.
"Everything okay?" Peter asks quietly. You just nod curtly and give his hand a squeeze then allow the producer to usher you away.
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The five men are standing in the middle of the common room, the dim lights cast an aura of seriousness. All the men are cleaned up wearing mostly nicer button down shirts, pants, and shorts. Sunkissed faces painted in a stoic expression with quiet nervousness rippling underneath.
All of their faces light up when the four women walk in: You, Felicia, Dana, and MJ, all dressed in different flowy dresses that make you all look like beachy queens of the night. You exhale and look at Peter B., who gives you a small smile, his hands balled into nervous fists in his pockets. Miguel is looking at you too with a neutral expression on his face, his jaw tensing as he looks down.
Dana smiles at Peter B., who quickly moves his eyes away from her back onto you, trying not to be obvious. Immediate guilt and regret eating him from the inside out. George and Patrick, aka Web-Slinger, stand there with relaxed looks on their faces, seemingly unphased by the tension hanging in the air. Ben gives a small wink to Felicia who beams in return.
Jason Donner enters the room. "Welcome, everyone to another rose ceremony. Now, as you all now, it's ladies choice this week. There are five men remaining, but with only four roses to be handed out, so, gentlemen, one of you will leaving paradise tonight."
The five men quietly nod their heads in acknowledgement and Jason turns to MJ. "MJ, whenever you're ready, you'll start."
MJ nods and steps forward, clad in a tight red dress with a curly ponytail. She picks up the first rose boutonniere laying in the tiny pile on top of a small wooden stand. A somber tune begins to play as she takes the rose in her hands. Her eyes land on Peter B. for a brief moment, her face still deadpan, but then she looks at George with a smile.
"George?"
George breaks out into a cocky grin and he steps forward, standing in front of her.
"George, will you accept this rose?"
"Course..." He grins as she pins it to his breast pocket of his blue button down shirt. Peter B. exhales and looks away as this happens. You notice and your lips part a little bit, a slightly odd feeling announcing itself in your gut that you try to press down.
Felicia goes next, taking the rose in her hands, wearing a black halter top dress tonight and she doesn't hesitate for one moment. "Ben?"
Ben walks forward, a shy grin on his face.
"Ben, will you accept my rose?"
"Always." He whispers, as she pins the rose to his Hawaiian shirt with a giddy smile.
Your turn next. You step forward, still wearing the light blue kimono style dress from your date with Peter B. earlier. One of your shaky hands takes the second to last rose and you look up, your eyes finding Peter B. first. He flashes you a smile in return, giving you a hopeful look.
Miguel is looking at you too, he takes a deep breath in and closes his eyes, his head leaning back towards the ceiling. He knows he's not getting your rose tonight, he's just preparing himself for the gut punch of hearing you choose someone else, and falling for Peter B.'s false act.
Somehow, saying his name doesn't feel as right as you thought it would.
"Peter..."
Peter nods and walks forward with a smile, pulling the breast pocket of his white button down shirt forward for you to pin the rose.
"I just want you to know, this isn't just a rose to me. I take it really seriously..." You whisper to him. Dana rolls her eyes and lets out a scoff. Your eyes shoot her a slightly peeved look. The others look around somewhat nervously. Miguel tries to crane his neck a little to try and make out your soft words.
Peter's smile falters and his eyes dart to the rest of the group for a moment before he looks down at you. He wipes a little bead of sweat that began to form on his forehead.
"Peter, is there anything going on that would make you feel like you cannot accept my rose?"
The silence lasts a little longer than you'd like it to but he finally answers,
"N-No...I'm here for you. I have genuine feelings for you and I want to see where this goes. I mean that wholeheartedly, baby..." He says in a soft voice.
You nod slowly, then pin the rose to his shirt and he steps back into his position among the rest of the men. Miguel closes his eyes. Felicia mouths to you,"What's going on?"
"I'll tell you later." You mouth back to her.
Jason Donner re-enters the room. "Gentlemen, it's the final rose tonight. Dana, whenever you're ready."
Dana steps forward, wearing an orange two piece dress. She looks between Web-Slinger who's relaxed and Miguel who still has his eyes closed. She pauses then finally calls out a name.
"Miguel."
Miguel opens his eyes a little puzzled but steps forward, straightening his black polo.
"Will you accept..." Dana starts but is cut off by Miguel waving one of his hands.
"I'm sorry, but if I accept your rose I'd only be staying here for someone I'm still in love with." He looks over at you who's just as shocked and confused as the rest of the group.
Dana huffs quietly and looks down at the floor for a moment, placing the rose back on the stand. Jason Donner enters, "Dana? What's the hold up?"
Dana shakes her head. "He can't accept it. He's still here for..." Dana clears her throat as though your name was physically revolting to say.
Jason looks at Miguel. "Miguel, are you sure about this?"
He nods solemnly in response, not tearing his gaze from you.
Jason nods and says, "Well, Patrick, Miguel, since there isn't any more roses being handed out tonight, I'm so sorry, but you both are going home. Take a moment, say your goodbyes."
Web-Slinger aka Patrick, pulls George into a bro hug. He was kind of there to just party anyway, no sweat off his back.
Miguel gives a goodbye to George and Ben, but when it came to Peter B. he gave him the cold shoulder, pointing an accusatory finger,
"Don't fucking pull any shit like that again. If I find out you hurt her again, I'll deal with you personally."
"Wha-?" the others react to the abrupt switch up, the mood turning into hostile energy. Peter's face turns bright red.
"What's he talking about?" Felicia asks out loud as Miguel starts to make his way to the exit.
"Miguel, what do you mean by that?" Felicia asks again louder this time, concern in her voice.
You look down at the floor. Miguel says in a sarcastic tone, "Ask Peter, he can tell you."
"Miguel, I have no clue what you're talking about." Peter speaks up, standing up a little straighter in false confidence, deciding to play it cool.
Miguel hisses in annoyance and points at Dana. "Ask your new little friend, you two seemed to be getting close enough."
Dana points at herself, seemingly gobsmacked, "Me?!"
"Yes, you." Miguel says crossly. "Tell the truth, Dana. Tell the truth that you and Peter were hooking up in the bushes tonight, and that you threw yourself on me in the pool, completely unprovoked, and I didn't come onto you like everyone here believes."
Dana turns red with anger, and everyone else's mouths fall open. She tries to speak but just babbles incoherently. Your eyes narrow, a sick feeling pooling in your stomach.
"Now hold on..." Ben steps forward. "I was the one who saw Miguel and Dana in the pool earlier. I clearly saw both of you all over each other. Dana was holding him around the waist like this-" Ben awkwardly lifts his leg in some kind of demonstration, straddling an invisible man. "...and Miguel, you had your hands on her waist. I saw it when I went back for my towel."
"Well, check your facts again." Miguel says in an annoyed tone. "She jumped on me. I was minding my own business tanning on the inflatable."
"But why was it only after all of us left?" Ben asks, his eyebrows raising. "Same thing with Peter and Dana. Somehow all of these things are happening with nobody around and it's your word against everyone else's."
"Well why should we believe you about Dana and I?" Miguel shoots back at Ben.
Ben's eyes widen as he gestures to himself. "I have absolutely no reason to lie. But you do." He points to Miguel. "You're not over her and you know it." He nods in your direction. "You're trying to sabotage Peter's relationship, but yet you're trying to have it both ways with Dana too."
Miguel scoffs and laughs, but there's zero humor to be found in it. "Are you serious, Ben?"
"Miguel, I think you need to just worry about your own relationships right now." Peter B. says, taking a step towards Miguel. "You didn't get a rose tonight. Just take back what you said and exit peacefully and we can all forget this ever happened."
Miguel's eyes flash with anger, "I'm not going anywhere yet because I refuse to be made out to be some liar when I'm not!"
George steps in this time, "Hold on, let the man speak." He gestures in Miguel's direction.
Miguel takes a huge breath of relief. Even though George could be a douche, at least someone here was willing to hear him out, although it may have been mostly motivated by the fact that George didn't care much for Peter B. anyway.
"How about you stay out of this one, George?" Peter snarls, turning on him.
George smirks, the tension between them had been built up for weeks due to the jealousy over MJ.
"Oh yeah, and just what are you gonna do about it?"
"Guys!" Ben gets in between George and Peter, nearly tripping over backwards into George when Peter keeps surging forward, knocking Ben off his balance.
Miguel tries to insert himself between the two men as well and remove Ben, however Peter gives him a sharp shove, knocking him backwards, "Get back!"
Miguel's face flushes red with fury, taking a step towards Peter, however George beat him to it, shoving Peter, then causing Peter to lunge forward , only to be abruptly stopped by several security guards rushing the scene to restrain the heated men from ripping each other apart. Everyone is panicking now with several people from both on and off set running around, all this pent up drama and frustration nearly coming to a boiling point. The women scurry out of the fray.
"Hold on!" You yell at the top of your lungs, turning to Dana this time. "There's two sides to every story. So, is it true?" You ask, your voice slightly shaky. "Did you and Peter hook up?"
Dana's eyes narrow at you, "I don't see why it's any of your business?"
"Umm, considering the fact I'm dating him, I would say it is. It's a simple question, yes or no, Dana." You say, crossing your arms.
Dana scoffs. "I don't answer to people who don't know how to address me in the right tone, first of all. And I don't need to apologize or admit to anything when I haven't even done anything wrong."
You and Felicia look at each other with bizarre looks.
"Besides, if I wanted your man, I could have him." Dana taunts.
You throw your head back with an unamused cackle. "Puuuhlease! If you can take my man, then he's not my man. You can take my problems, not my man let's get that straightened out right now."
Dana throws her head back with an over exaggerated mocking laugh. You look at her with disgust.
"What is your fucking problem? I have seriously tried to be nice to you SO many times, Dana. You never apologized or owned up to your behavior."
"Oh like what, what did I do that was so bad, honey, tell me?" Dana bats her eyes sarcastically.
"Brag about wanting to fuck Gabriel, bullying the other girls in the house. Talking so much shit about me behind my back. You literally said the only way I could've gotten in the final two is if I slept my way to the top, and you slut shamed me, saying I was some type of hoe you'd find at a gas station."
Dana blinks. "I don't remember that."
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
A clip plays flashing backwards to Miguel's season, of Dana sitting begrudgingly in her camera confessional shortly after you won a group date rose during week 2.
A producer from behind the camera asks Dana, "So, what are your thoughts on her winning the group date rose?"
She scoffs and shakes her head. "I don't have any. Girls like her can't make guys fall in love with them. Like, I think she'd have to sleep her way to the top to even make the final two...I-what?! Sorry...it's true... Like it's all in the way you carry yourself and she carries herself like...I don't wanna be rude but, a slut. I mean, just look at the way she talks and dresses!! It's giving...gas station prostitute."
She giggles furiously, laughing off the producer's playful scolding in response. "Oh please...I'm sorry, I'm sorry okay?! I'm just being real. Just uh...just edit that one out." She shrugs and smirks.
🌹🌹Back to the present🌹🌹
Dana blinks innocently again, "I don't remember saying that. I might have said something to that effect but those weren't my exact words."
"Dana! Nobody on this beach even fucking likes you!" Felicia yells, her blue eyes aflame with frustration.
"Well sweetheart, I didn't come here to be liked, I came here to win." Dana replies in a honeyed tone.
"We've given you SO many chances to try and be friends with us and you act like you're better than everyone else here. You have zero respect for any of the women on this beach and throw yourself at all the guys. So just admit it, you hooked up with Peter. Be a big girl, put on your big girl panties, and OWN YOUR.SHIT!" Felicia claps in her face with every word.
Dana gets in Felicia's face, screaming back, "I do own my shit for your information. How about you take a chill pill and watch who the fuck you're talking to, bitch??"
"Hey!" Ben stops trying to play referee to the men and rushes over to Felicia's aid instead, the security guards too preoccupied with calming down an enraged George, Miguel, and Peter to jump in the brewing storm amongst the women.
"Leave her alone!" Ben hisses at Dana. But Felicia's getting worked up, trying to wriggle out of Ben's grasp.
"Bitch?! Who the fuck are you calling a bitch?!" She shrieks.
"You, bitch!" Dana says in a taunting, sing-song tone back.
"Dana, you're the last person to be calling anyone on this beach a bitch!" You speak up, putting yourself in between Ben, Felicia, and Dana.
"Yeah, um I wasn't talking to you honey. Mind your business, please and thank you, mkay? Thank you darling!" Dana replies in a snarky tone.
"Well I'm talking to you!" You answer, not taking your eyes off Dana. You can feel your blood pressure steadily rising. "I'm not gonna sit here and let you disrespect my friend. And, you didn't even answer my question, did you hook up with Peter?"
Dana rolls her eyes and turns around, "The ones with daddy issues are always the worst."
"EXCUSE ME?!" You charge forward, her low blow setting off a switch, making you see red. You were open about your family struggles on the show and never thought you'd see the day when someone would be cruel enough to use it as ammo against you.
"Get. Out. Of. My.Face," Dana spits, a thick, gooey drop of her saliva landing on your jaw.
You black out into a blind rage of fury, your right hand balled into a fist wound up behind you, knocking Dana on the left side of her face. You follow with your left, socking her in the jaw, then your right again, leaving her almost guaranteed with a fat lip.
"Fucking-BITCH!" Dana screams, grabbing your hair.
You fight to keep your head raised, using all the strength in your upper body as your hands seize her wrist that has a good hold on your hair, also using your knees to try and throw one into her torso to encourage her to let you go. You hit her with one of your knees, causing her to yell, making her loosen her grip a little so your hair is finally free. You get in one more good shot to her face before another security guard seizes you around the torso, picking you up and carrying you away off to the side.
Miguel's attention is shifted away from Peter and the security guards blocking him and he looks over to see you mid-fight, his eyes going wide when he sees Dana grabbing you by the hair and was running over to save you before the security guard beat him to it.
You're sobbing and shaking with leftover fury and frustration, your lip trembling, your hair and dress a little disheveled and a lightly sore scalp from where Dana grabbed you but otherwise unscathed. The security guard sets you down on an empty couch in the common area. Felicia bolts over to you, she can't help but smile a little with satisfaction but it turns to worry and comfort at the sight of your tears.
"Dude....you got her good...oh my God don't cry, don't cry..." She pulls you into a hug, rocking you. Miguel sits down next to you.
"Hey....hey....what happened? You okay? She put her hands on you? Are you hurt? What can I do, what's the matter?" He shoots out the questions a mile a minute, Felicia pulling away for a moment to wipe your tears. Miguel gently pulls up the straps of your swimsuit top you're wearing under your kimono style dress that threatened to fall down and expose yourself. Both of them diligently working to fix you up.
"She needs tissues, Miguel!" Felicia orders. "Get her some ice too."
Miguel nods. "Don't let her get up okay? You two stay right there!"
"I h-hate her...I hate her..." You sputter and lament. "How can someone be so rude and evil...m'm-s-soo sick of t-this...." You sob and tremble, holding your knees in a ball.
"She's gone." Felicia whispers.
"Yeah, she's gone. You don't have to worry about her anymore, sweetie. " Miguel soothes.
"Dude, you got her so good too, oh my God." Felicia mutters to you in a low voice, the sound of Dana whining and screaming at the security guards and crew coming from the other side of the room. "I didn't even know you could fight like that. She deserved that after pushing you that hard, I didn't know she'd go that far..."
"Yeah." Miguel agrees, letting out a soft chuckle. "You defended yourself, there's no need to be upset. She's gone, she's throwing a fit so I think they're gonna take her to the hospital just to get her checked out..." Miguel sits up, craning his neck to try and get a glimpse of what's happening, then grabs tissues off the counter, handing them to Felicia. "I'll be back with the ice."
Felicia nods and starts gently dabbing your eyes as you blow your nose. Ben comes up and sits next to you and Felicia. "You okay there, cookie?" He asks you softly.
"She's okay, just shaken up." Felicia answers while you continue to take shallow breaths.
"M'....M'okay...." You breath out slowly.
"Ben get her some water. Miguel's gone to get her ice."
"I'm on it." Ben leaves, on his way to fetch you water.
"Thanks, bestie...I-I'm scared they're gonna send me home..." You mutter through your tear soaked voice.
"Hey, that's what friends are for," Felicia whispers, stroking your arm and pulling you into a hug. "Dude, fuck Dana...don't worry about her dude, you did nothing wrong. She started it by insulting you and spitting in your face. I saw the whole thing and I can vouch for you. I'm sure Miguel and Ben will too."
Miguel and Ben arrive. Ben hands you a glass of ice water with a curly straw and some freshly squeezed lemon in it. Miguel has an ice pack and your favorite blanket that he wraps around your shoulders, putting his arms around you while Felicia holds your hand.
Peter B. comes walking up to your group, his shirt unbuttoned, hair frazzled, and face disheveled from all the action. Miguel hisses and Ben jumps up, putting his hands on Peter's chest.
"Not now, man." Ben says quietly.
"I just wanna make sure she's okay. I just wanna make sure she's okay!" Peter protests, his face turning red again.
"Peter...fuck off!" You yell over them.
Peter freezes, looking at you sadly. "Baby, I..."
"Peter, beat it!" Felicia yells. "You've embarrassed her for the last time. You tripped and your face landed into some other girl's cunt tonight. You're done!!"
"I wanna hear it from her." Peter says firmly, a lump in his throat.
"Just leave me alone, Peter..." You softly whimper out. "I'm tired, and I'm done..you lied to me, you made me look fucking stupid, and I need space right now."
Peter goes to protest again but Ben shakes his head, "Bro...come on, man. Leave it alone."
Peter shoots a glare at Miguel, then gives you one more sad look before he sulks off, headed towards his room with a loud sigh of defeat.
You hear the ambulance sirens and get a glimpse of Dana being escorted by two security guards, her slightly limping. Her short hair was tousled with a giant puffy bottom lip that's turning red and slightly purple with a bruise, several tissues stuffed up her nostril for her bloody nose. You can't hear what she's saying but it sounds like she's running your name through the mud some more and berating the EMTs as they help her onto a stretcher.
Felicia squeezes your hand while she sits cuddled up against Ben. You rest your head against Miguel's chest as all of you sit on the couch together and stare off, the future of your paradise experience uncertain at this point after such a dramatic night.
The host, Jason Donner, speaks in a voiceover: "stay tuned for another drama-packed episode of Singles in Paradise!”
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
Tags🖤: @miguelhugger2099 @kodo1221 @mimiemie @laysmt @cheerrioeoz , @spicydonut25 @thisistotesnotspam-heart , @famouscattale @thekidscallmebosss , @librababe99 @ce3stvu , @irishbl0ss0mz @nommingonfood @mauvecherie-writes , @royale-skeleton-key , @thesilenthill , @dimitri-needs-therapy , @a-lil-whore @aisyakirmann @sylveon-of-heart , @hobiebrowns-wife @weirdothatwritess , @reader-1290 , @thesmutconnoisseur , @koyukilove
@hardlystrictlystarwars , @lareinamorgan , @serpentineaerodynamics
@envyjmoney , @clementines-valt , @the-pan-liquid
@stellasloth @migueloharasoulmate , @cynwing
@ddreabea , @what-the-jams @loaves4me , @p1nkliquor , @mcmiracles , @tojishugetiddies , @1-800-choke-that-ho @idfciluvsmut
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k-looking-glass-house · 6 months
Text
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Let's cheer and drink "santé"!!
Glorious Masquerade Cocktail~
To celebrate Glorious Masquerade, with the help huuuuh more like "Heeeelllppp meeee Grimm! Popcorn !!!
And they helped me !! Yaaay cocktail, Champagne for everyone and mocktail for little one who can't drink obviouuuussslyyy !!
(Imagine me behind the scene drinking Champy'.... And dancing a bit tipsy like a frenchy baby....)🍾🥂
And soooo thanks @twiwoncrackpopcorn to find the name for everyone !!
▪️Sip of Honeyed Fables - Malleus Draconia ▪️Sip of Frostyverse - Idia Shroud ▪️Sip of Abyss Blend - Azul Ashengrotto ▪️Sipperella - Trein-sensei (champagne let me cheer with youuuuu) ▪️Sweet Whiskers - Grim ▪️Giggleberry Froth - Chenya/ Alchemi Alchemivinch Pinka ▪️Royal Bluebubbly - Neige Leblanche ▪️Frothy Oasis - Jamil Viper ▪️Minty Blast - Deuce Spade (created by your dear @twiwoncrackpopcorn yaaay thank you !!) ▪️Silky Dawn - Silver ▪️Zesty Junction - Sebek Zigvolt ▪️Sour Solace - Rollo Flamme ▪️Frothy Fizz - Handsome mob-kun NRC ▪️Fruity Emporium - Epel Felmier ▪️Tropical Bounty - Ruggie Bucchi ▪️Liquid Perfecto - Rook Hunt ▪️Lawful Berrylicious - Riddle Rosehearts
_Credit_
Mask game asset extract by @alchemivich
Concept done by me and @twiwoncrackpopcorn
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naffeclipse · 2 months
Note
*slides leopardtaur Y/N to you across the table like a seedy casino*
*picks leopardtaur Y/N up and slips them into my inner jacket pocket*
You escaped Fazco's jungle park the moment it fell, darting to the outer regions of dense forest and tangled vegetation to soak in the untouched tropics. Your lower body takes after a leopard with a tawny coat and beautiful black rosettes. You're sleek, swift, and dangerous but not the biggest threat.
While in captivity, you caught whiffs off handlers of strange scents and heard gossip from those feeding you about the other monsters. You don't see any now, but you know to avoid conflict is to avoid encounters. You hunt at different times than might be typical for other beasts and avoid taking prey that might be missed. Usually, you rest in trees and hope to go unnoticed. You enjoy your newfound freedom. You hope to never see another human again.
Unfortunately, you're not alone. You realize that when you catch distant hisses and the echoes of slithering in the undergrowth. There are also the bones left from meals picked clean that you occasionally stumble upon. Massive paw tracks are left in the moist dirt. When you step into it with your paws, the imprint engulfs yours.
You'd rather not find out who those belong to. You're fierce but small. If anything big catches you in its teeth, it's over.
That doesn't mean you're never found. One lazy evening, just after nightfall, you wake up from a cozy nap along a thick tree branch. You yawn, opening your jaws and flashing your sharp teeth, stretching your arms and four legs and flicking your tail, only to realize that there's something above you. Wide, red eyes, caught off guard, stare down at you from higher branches. A naga, deep blue and hooded, dotted with diamonds of red and yellow scales, stares back. He must have been slithering along, not realizing the tree was already occupied. He starts to say something. You've already dashed down the tree trunk and bounded away faster than a bird disappearing into the forest.
That was too close, but not as close as your next encounter. The waterside is dangerous—you have to go there for a cool drink when the afternoon sun is hot. You venture forward, furry ears pricked, eyes scanning the verdant trees until you reach the babbling river's side. The noise is dangerous. It can conceal threats you might otherwise hear before they get too close, but you fold your four legs underneath you and cup your hands to drink delicious sweet water. It runs down your chin before you register another presence. The soft hiss of surprise that echoes.
You jump into the water. Splashing furiously, you turn around to face the intruder only to be met with wide blue eyes and open hands, just as stunned to see you as you are to see him. A naga of golden colors and red patches. He doesn't have a hood, not like the other one. Bright frills frame his head like a crown of beaming gold. He smiles reassuringly, almost too excited, and says, "Hello, friend." You spare him not a word as you swim across the river and disappear into the other end of the forest, ignoring his pleas to wait a moment.
The third encounter is too close for comfort. You don't realize you're being stalked until it's too late. The tall grass made you feel safe and hidden, but it only concealed who lurked here. You spy two gleaming orange eyes between blades of grass moments before the tigertaur leaps on you—and in a second, you're pinned. His paws hold your leopard body down, easily dwarfing you, as his hands grab your wrists. His strength puts an end to your attempts to fight back or wriggle free. He coos at you, much to your dismay. When he leans in close, you brace for his teeth to sink into you. Instead, he licks your cheek and tells you how sweet it is to finally get a proper eyeful of you. You're always running or hiding or sleeping. He wants to know your name. He wants you to know his name. He wants to see you again very soon, ignoring your confusion and disbelief that you're still alive.
He finally lets you up. He grabs your wrist when you try to flee. His striped tail whips about like he's playing while your own snaps in feral agitation. He tells you that you can trust him, especially over those snakes. You break free (did he let you break free?) and race back to the shadowy shelter of the jungle trees, breathing hard and frazzled.
You hide harder, staying in trees more and avoiding moving too much in the middle of the day and at midnight. Your paranoia grows when you notice little offers left under the tree where you had a nap at dawn and dusk: small morsels of meat, berries, nuts, and even flowers that hold no nutritional value but are gorgeous. You hear the nagas more, feel their presence, even catch sight of them as they catch sight of you, calling out, urging you to stop for a moment, please.
The tigertaur finds you when he pleases. He catches you bathing in the river one night and proceeds to help you groom your coat and hair despite your raised hackles, and he tells you that you should hunt food together; it would be far more efficient to share meals, and you need more meat. No matter where you go, where you hide, he finds you. You're certain he takes delight in catching you by surprise by how eagerly he snatches you up each time.
You don't like the offerings left by the nagas but you do take them, even the useless flowers. You don't like the tigertaur dragging a large carcass out, dropping it at your feet, and telling you to indulge, but you do eat. You don't know how to handle the attention of so many large predators, much less what to say when you drop by the babbling waterside to find the yellow naga smiling at you and telling you that it's safe, they won't hurt you. You don't know how to respond when you wake up to a soft hum in the middle of the night and find the blue naga a tree over, coiled up and watching you with a ruby gleam and a soft request to come over to his tree. He doesn't bite.
You don't know what to do but you want to survive, and you don't know if you can with the nagas and tigertaur beckoning you closer.
204 notes · View notes
ro-written · 11 months
Text
Take a Ride - K.Y
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Tags/Warnings: phew boy…18+ ONLY! MDNI! AT ALL! SMUT. There’s definitely plot there, biker!yeosang, no pronouns really used for reader but there are feminine pet names, very light alcohol drinking, heavy making out, fluff, I barely reread and edited this sorry
Smut Tags: exhibitionism (sex on a motorcycle), oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, reader has a coochie, pet names towards reader (pretty girl, good girl, baby, doll), fingering, begging, grinding, scratching, PROTECTED SEX, Yeo’s got a big dick, Yeo keeps his condoms in his wallet (don't do that lmao), love at first fuck(???)
Word Count: 5.6k
Playlist:
“Fly - FKJ Remix” by June Marieezy “Body Language” by Doja Cat “Harley’s in Hawaii” by Katy Perry “Pink + White” by Frank Ocean
Being able to vacation days off from work was difficult, especially in your profession. So when it was offered to you by your supervisor, you agreed without hesitation. As soon as you got home, you messaged your best friend. You had both talked about having a little vacation and going to an island, away from the hustle and bustle of your usual lives, and taking in all the more tropical views that you never got to experience living in a city. That same night you had your bags packed and plane tickets booked for the next morning.
The Airbnb your friend had chosen was stunning. The backdoor opened up directly to the sight of the ocean and the trees surrounding the view. The window in your room offered a similar view. As soon as you opened it, a breeze filled the space, bringing in the salty smell of the ocean with it. It made your shoulders relax a bit, eyes closed as the heat of the sun refreshingly warmed your face. For once you weren’t thinking of all the work that sat waiting for you, or anything that was on your to-do list. You were instead listening to the birds chirping, the waves crashing against the rocks nearby, the leaves on the trees brushing against each other with every waft of wind. 
After a few minutes of standing there and swaying gently back and forth with the wind, your friend finally knocked on your door.
“Hello hello,” they peeked their head around to make sure you weren’t occupied. You smiled and waved them in, going to sit on the bed.
“What’s up?”
“Well…there’s this bar nearby that I believe is calling out our names. Wait–” they gasped before grabbing your arm. “Can you hear that? It was just there!” You rolled your eyes at their ever-dramatic antics.
“So you wanna go drinking when it’s,” you shifted to look at the clock on your phone. “It just turned 3:10.” They nodded back excitedly, grin wide on their face.
“And we can get shitfaced and go walking on the beach that’s right outside our doorstep during the sunset!” 
…It all did sound very tempting. You mulled it over as your friend sat next to you, bouncing up and down in anticipation. You finally nodded, coming to the conclusion that you were on your own time, not needing to hold back from enjoying yourself. They flung their arms around your neck before getting up and running to go change.
For it being a Friday, the building was surprisingly barely busy. There were a few people here and there, drinking and either talking to someone or watching whatever the bar had on TV. You and your friend grab a corner booth. After writing down your order, your friend went to the bar to get your drinks from the bartender. It was then that you heard motorcycle rumbles from outside the building, and through the very tiny window, you could see two bikes parking in one spot. Both people on the bikes got off, and one immediately took his helmet off. He was a bit taller than the other one and had short black hair and a sharp nose. The second motorcyclist had been in the middle of unclipping his helmet when your friend suddenly appeared at your side.
“Here you go! I got a double shot for mine but yours is just the regular amount. I didn’t know how hard you were going tonight.” They said with a smile. Your attention was brought back to the drink they had set in front of you on the small napkin. It was a deep red color and while it had a strong smell, it wasn’t unpleasant.
“Thank you so so much, I owe you one.” You smile at them as you use the tiny black straw to taste the drink, dubbed “The Icey Crab” on the menu. Corny, but the drink is damn good. 
At that moment, the two motorcyclists you saw before swung the door to the bar open. The taller one walked in first, leather pants and boots appearing before the rest of him. He stepped in and to the side, as the other biker came in. The other one, the one you didn’t get a chance to see take his helmet off, was…gorgeous, to say the least. His face looked as if it had been carved from marble. There was a slight dark mark on the side of his face and it accentuated his beautiful eyes. His long dark hair framed his face perfectly. Not to mention his arms. His muscle tank allowed his muscular triceps to be on display. And you were certainly taking it in.
“Hey.” Your friend snapped their fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to what they had been saying. Their eyes followed yours over to where the two men had come in and were setting themselves up at the bar.
“Ahh, I see how it is then. Which one were you eyeing?” They smirked and nudged you repeatedly, making you lightly hit their arm and roll your eyes. “I’m going to guess it’s the long-haired one? Definitely your type.”
“Please, I don’t have a type.” Their eyebrows shot up at you over the glass held to their lips.
“Don’t just lie like that, I’ve known you for way too long.” They giggled, eyes going back over to the two men. One of them, the taller one, seemed to look right over at your table at that exact moment, catching your friend’s eye. They grinned and raised their glass in greeting the new man. He returned it back, smirking as he said something to his long-haired friend who was simply sipping on his drink and seemed startled when the tall one spoke. He too followed his friend's view over to your booth, and his eyes landed on you.
“Well, I think I’ve snagged his friend, if you want alone time with him, yeah?” They said as they looked back at you, excitement glimmering in their eyes as they downed the rest of their drink.
“And what happened to us headed to have a little drunk walk on the beach?” You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile on your lips as your voice stayed playful.
“Well, we can do that any other night, right? We have some vacation days, let’s really use them.” They wiggled their eyebrows at you, making you let out a laugh. You see a figure approach the table from the corner of your eye, something you could only assume belonged to the tall man at the bar. You brought your drink up to your lips to hide your smile, as your friend stared at you in amusement.
“Hi,” the tall man’s deep voice seized your friend’s eyes from you. “I couldn’t help but notice your drink was empty.” Your friend looked down at the glass in fake surprise, as if they hadn’t realized what they were doing. Even though they knew exactly what they were doing. It was a tactic they used quite frequently, emptying their glass and waiting for whoever they had been eye-fucking to buy them a new drink.
“I didn’t even notice, how astute.” They smiled at him and raised their glass up in front of his face.
“Maybe we can change that?” His eyebrow quirked as he lightly grabbed the glass.
“Sounds like a deal…?”
“Park Seonghwa,” He introduced himself and looked over at you for the first time, giving you a smile. Almost as a sign of good intentions, ensuring you he didn’t plan on doing anything of ill will towards them. You nodded and looked at your friend, who stared at you. You both had each other’s location tracker on and you knew they had protective measures. 
“Alright, Mr. Park, let’s see if you can guess my favorite drink.”
The two of them walked away, and you watched with a smile, feeling glad that your friend could find something to distract them. You knew how busy they had been with their job and family. It was rare for them to go out anymore. If anyone needed time to be a little irresponsible, it was definitely them.
“So, your friend fell for the ‘Your glass is empty’ line?”
A deep voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you looked at the man standing next to your booth’s table. It was the other biker, the one who had come with Seonghwa. His attention on you made your face burn, and it took you a few seconds to realize what he had said. 
“Well, your friend fell for the ‘Oh, my glass is empty?’ bit. Maybe they were made for each other.” You smiled at the long-haired man as he laughed, looking down at the table for a second. His smile was very pretty, especially with how his eyes curved when his cheeks pushed up. His black hair fell into his face, and some impulse within you wished to reach out and push them back.
“Maybe they were.” He looked over his shoulder to the two of them at the bar, laughing about something. You could see a vein popping out in his neck, running all the way down to his broad chest. He was definitely your type, your friend was right. Especially with the way his hands looked as they rested on the table. Fuck it, if they’re gonna have fun tonight, I am too.
“I’m Y/N.” His eyes came back to you as you stuck your hand out in greeting. He took it, a jolt going through you at the feeling of his skin.
“Yeosang.”
Once he sat down on the other side of the rounded booth, the two of you spent hours talking about various things. What brought you to the island, what kinds of jobs you both did (he was a mechanic), what towns you lived in, what town you originally came from, et cetera. He was very interesting, not to mention very intelligent, and while he seemed reserved initially, he slowly opened up to show a more comedic side. The two of you had almost completely forgotten to check on your friends until Seonghwa came by to let Yeosang know that he and your friend were headed out. You gave your friend a good once over, making sure they weren’t shitfaced and still coherent. Relieved to find them acting their usual self, you had no reservations about letting them head out without you. 
As soon as they were both out the door, you watched through the window as they climbed on the back of Seonghwa’s motorcycle, putting his helmet on. Yeo laughed at his friend, apparently trying to “act cool.”
“There are times when he struggles to even talk to someone, but then there’s moments where he’s got massive game. I don’t even know how I keep up with him.” You smiled as he kept on talking about his friend, the genuine fondness showing through his words. Something about how he talked about Seonghwa was so deeply endearing. It made your heart flutter a little in your chest.
Your talks kept up as more people filtered into the bar, creating a hotter and stuffier atmosphere. He inched closer and closer to you, both of you struggling to hear the other as more voices came into the building, and the music got louder. After a while, you two just looked at each other and laughed, finding it ridiculous. You couldn’t help but notice, however, just how close he was. Merely inches apart as he leaned into your ear.
“I think we should head out.”
Yeosang parked the motorcycle right in a hidden clearing, taking your hand and bringing you to the edge of a cliff a few feet from the bike. You looked over it, deciding that if he was a murderer, he really wouldn’t have been able to kill you with the drop. Sure, maybe some bruises or a scratch, a bit of muscle ache, but definitely not death. 
“I’m not trying to murder you, you know,” he lets out with a low chuckle, reading your mind. “I just wanna show you my favorite view out here. Especially with the sun setting. You have to wait a few more minutes, but it’s so worth it.” He smiles brightly at you, and you couldn’t help but look at how the light from the lowering sun made his skin glow. You smiled back, watching as he walked back to his bike to lean against it, his toned legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed and showing off his muscular build. He patted the spot next to him, beckoning you over. You obliged, leaning your body against the seat of the bike, arms brushing his as he stared out at the view and watched the different birds crossing over the water.
You struggled to look at the view, eyes constantly straying over to him and his face, the birthmark next to his eye standing out. It took your restraint to keep from listening to your impulsive thoughts to reach out and trace it. 
You wanted to brush back his long black hair to get a better view of it, maybe even gather it up in your hand. That brought on a new wave of thoughts, ones that included your grip on his hair, pushing him in between your legs, eyes closed as he–
“It’s impolite to stare you know.” 
Your face burned as you turned away towards the ocean, eyes looking downwards. His chuckle reverberated into your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look over at you, one eyebrow raised and a smirk gracing his face. He managed to look both devilish and angelic at the same time, a feat you never realized could be done before. 
“Sorry, just…lost in thought.”
“It’s okay, pretty girl. Maybe you should take a picture next time, hm?” His smile widened a bit after that, and you rolled your eyes, even though the smile playing at your lips contradicted the movement. The water crashed against the shore, providing background noise surrounding the two of you. You had expected him to have turned his attention back to the shifting sunset, but you could still see him focused on you.
You tried to ignore his eyes piercing you, dragging down the length of your body. His tongue peeked out behind his lips, swiping over them in a way you wished to do. Gathering your thoughts that melted all together you slightly turned your head toward him, eyebrow raised.
“You don’t practice what you preach?” You bit out. Something in the way he smiled tossed your stomach in a way not unpleasant. His eyes kept shifting between your eyes down to your lips, eventually losing the battle and fixating themselves on the way you brought your bottom lip into your mouth to lightly bite at it.
“Why don’t you let me do that, hm?” Was the only thing he said before a hand reached out to grab the side of your face. He gave you a chance to pull back, and as soon as he realized you didn’t plan to, he leaned in. You sharply sucked air in, his lips brushing gently over yours as your eyes fluttered closed. After what felt like minutes of building anticipation, he pressed himself against you. Both hands grasped at your face as he deepened the kiss, tongue lightly swiping at your lips. 
Maybe it was the one drink in your system, or maybe it was the way your body felt like it craved every possible touch from him, but you let him take complete control. His body pushed you against the seat of his bike, his hands coming down to either side of you to cage you in. This time your hands came up to grab either side of his face, your body pressing into him as if you could get any closer. His hips moved into yours a little, wanting to show you the effects you already had on him. He was strained against his pants, gently rocking into you to find some sort of relief. It made you grin a bit against his mouth, knowing how much power you had over this man you only met a few short hours ago.
His mouth left yours to start trailing against your jaw and down your neck. He sucked harder in some areas that you knew would leave sensitive purple marks in the morning. It was when he reached down the base of your neck under your ear that you let out a sound that fell between a sharp sigh and a squeak. At this, he smiled into your neck, lapping at the spot before gently nipping at it. 
“I love your sounds, pretty girl,” he noted before continuing around the column of your neck. It was agonizing, wanting him to finally get to where you truly needed him. You whined as his hand moved to your thigh, slowly starting to make progress toward your core.
“Yeo please–” He hushed you as you started to plead.
“I’m gonna make sure you get what you need, baby. Patience.” 
The hand on your thigh came back up to wrap around your waist, gripping so tight that you were sure bruises would form in the shape of his fingers later. Your hands made their way into his hair, lightly gripping the strands and tugging a bit to encourage him to move faster. His eyes fluttered closed and the deep groan that came out of him made you clench around nothing. How could someone make such a sinfully beautiful sound like that?
His eyes opened and it felt like they were staring into the very depths of you. Something dark and exhilarating floated in his pupils, sending a shiver through you as his hands gripped you impossibly tighter, arms flexing in the loose muscle tank. 
“Lean back on my bike, doll.” His voice had dropped several octaves and it reverberated in your body, nodding as you listened to his instructions. You place both hands on either side of your body as you lean your weight backward, allowing him to move to the waistband of your jeans and undo the buttons and zipper. Pushing both your pants and underwear down, you kicked them off over your sneakers. As he watched, he caught a glimpse of the damp spot on your underwear and smiled.
“We’ve barely done anything baby.” Your face burned as you rolled your eyes, trying to not fold under his charms. 
“Whate– shit.” His fingers cut off your rebuttal as they lightly skimmed over your slit, humming in mockery of your reaction. Your head tilted back as your hips moved up, a futile attempt at trying to get him to press just a little harder. He refused to put any more pressure besides gentle brushes, occasionally nudging your clit when you move your hips just right. His feather-light touches drew out small whimpers from you as you endeavored to keep most of your sounds in.
After what felt like forever, he moved his hand away, making your head dizzy at the sudden shifting. Before you could complain, he was sinking to his knees, gloved hands grabbing your thighs to bring them on his shoulders, shifting your weight around so you were fully reliant on both him and his bike. One of your hands came up to grab his hair on instinct, gripping it between your fingers. 
His breath ghosted over your wet lips, making you shiver and tighten your hold on his scalp. The tip of his nose rubbed along your slit, causing you to buck your hips again into him. You looked down, mouth opening to complain about his teasing. However, the sight below you distracts from the whine that had been at your tongue. Yeosang’s eyes meet yours, half-closed in a drunken state. He somehow looked even more ethereal this way, his senses completely filled with just you.
“Please” was all you could muster out. He nodded his head, understanding your plea, and his tongue came out to separate your folds, licking up the wetness he had thoroughly spread. Your body felt as if had simultaneously relaxed from the end of his initial teasing, as well as tensed up from the sensations he gave. His tongue flicked against your clit, making you jolt upwards in surprise. You felt his tongue circle around your clit before he began to suck it into his mouth gently, tongue going back and forth over it. Your stomach tightened up, your grip on his hair pushing him more into you. He hummed at the pressure, causing ripples of pleasure to roll through you.
He released your clit to move downwards, his tongue dipping into your cunt and curving up. Your other hand, the one not in his hair, came up to cover your mouth from releasing the long moan on the verge of slipping out. He continued dipping his tongue in you and flicking up, making it harder and harder to keep your noises in. Your thighs clenched around his head, and his fingers tightened to help keep you steady.
He leaned back a bit from you, allowing you to have a deep breath as you clenched around nothing. You looked at how his mouth shined from your slick, a smile gracing his features as he took a second to breathe. One of his hands released your thigh, and using his nails he lightly grazed across your skin until his hand was at your entrance. 
“Is this okay, doll?” He looked up at you with concerned eyes, checking to ensure you were okay. You smile and nod, thumb rubbing his scalp and pushing some of his hair back. He nodded with you, and slowly pushed two fingers into you, allowing you to adjust to the thickness. Your eyes fluttered closed, focusing on the way his fingers opened you. It had been a while since you had anything other than yourself inside you, so the stretch was a welcome burn.
“Breathe.” He gently whispered, making you realize you had been holding your breath the entire time. Your inhale was a bit wobbly, but you finally exhaled and relaxed around him.
“Good girl.”
His fingers started to move, not fully leaving out of you before they were pushed back in again. He curled them upwards, looking for something inside you. 
“I need…please…faster,” you shakily managed to get out. He huffed out a light chuckle, and you looked down at him through hooded eyes.
“My baby is so good at begging.”
His fingers picked up their pace, leaving you to struggle to catch your breath. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, as your back arched when he prodded at one spot within you. With your eyes closed, you sensed him pause and move below you, before feeling his mouth suck your clit in again. The new sensation, along with the continuous pressing on the sensitive area in you, had you unable to hold back your moans. Your senses were completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. And the pressure in your stomach started to build more and more with every hit of his fingers.
“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me?” His voice rocked through you, not letting up his movements. Your eyebrows furrowed as your eyes closed tightly. It was too much to try to hold back and with a few final movements, both hands flew to his head. You held him as close as you could, the pressure on your clit not stopping as you clenched tightly around his fingers. 
He could hear you call his name as you finished, and it didn’t do anything to help the pressure in his pants. But he knew that if either of you wanted to move to that, you’d have to take at least one more finger to prepare. So as you came down with deep breaths, he pulled off you. Your head was still spinning as he kissed your inner thighs, bringing you back down.
“I want you in me, Yeo,” you managed out. You could see how much he was straining against his pants, and you wanted to help relieve some pressure for the both of you. His smile was soft and endearing, a switch from the man who just gave you a transcending orgasm.
“I know baby, I want to. But we need to prepare you just a bit more for that, okay?” His words took a moment to process. You thought you had prepared to take him, but as he slowly started to push three fingers in, you realized that you might have trouble walking tomorrow.
“Oh shit,” was all that came out, as the stretch made your eyes roll back. All the pain was masked under the slight overstimulation you felt. It was almost too much, but you desperately wanted to feel all of him in you, and if this is what it took to get there, then you wouldn’t complain. 
It wasn’t an unusual feeling, you had experimented with three fingers before, but having someone else do it was what made you dizzy. Especially when his fingers were already so thick, it was more of a stretch than you were typically able to give yourself.
You took a breath, trying to relax around him. It was difficult though, as you kept clenching every time he moved back in. Watching as you sucked him in again repeatedly had him almost drooling. He couldn’t help from going back in, attaching himself to your already abused clit. It made your eyes jerk open in surprise. It made it even more difficult to relax, as you gripped him rhythmically. 
“Yeosang, please!” Your voice cried out like music in his ears. He could feel the way your thighs shook around his head, tightening more and more from his attack. He knew he couldn’t hold on any longer, and just as your eyebrows started to furrow up again, he pulled away. His fingers left you, and he watched in a trance as you fluttered around nothing. A whine was pulled out of your mouth, bringing him back to you.
Gently placing your thighs off his shoulders for a moment, he stood, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. Out of it he grabbed a condom and placed the wrapper in his mouth. He quickly grabbed his shirt off, then unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, and hastily pushed them down with his boxers, kicking them off to the side.
Your mouth involuntarily dropped open. That’s definitely why he wanted me to have three. His dick hit his stomach as he focused on putting the condom on. To say he was well endowed would be an understatement, and you were starting to wonder if he shouldn’t have possibly used four fingers to open you up a bit more. It made your mouth water a bit at the idea of having that stretch you out. You had yet to have a partner with such a gift as Yeosang has, and you were quite excited to see if he knew how to use it.
He gripped your thighs again, putting them around his hips. One hand stayed holding a leg while the other grabbed around your waist. His dick rubbed between your folds as he slightly ground into you. With every motion upwards it caught on your clit, dragging along and making you cling to his shoulders.
“You still okay with this? We can stop now if you want.” It made your heart skip hearing him. He was being considerate, even with how much he was definitely holding himself back from ramming into you. His teeth were clenched, his jaw tense and defining his jawline. He’s so fucking beautiful.
“Yes, Sangie.” The nickname rolled off your tongue without a second thought, and it made you both stop and look into each other’s eyes. Something within his chest twisted hearing the way you said his name. And seeing you this way…it was something he knew he needed more of.
Your teeth caught your lip, looking down to watch how his girth spread your lips apart. 
“What did I say about letting me do that.” He leaned down towards your face and kissed you. Your eyes fluttered shut at the touch of his soft lips against yours again. Your entire face felt tingly, allowing him to take over control of the kiss. As he pulled away, he bit down gently on your bottom lip, pulling it out slightly before letting it go. And as he rest his forehead against yours to look into your eyes, he finally adjusted his hips to slip in you.
The stretch was almost unbearable. Almost. You were beyond thankful that he prepared you thoroughly. And between your first orgasm and the heated makeout session you two had, you were virtually drenched with desire and need.
He stilled as he completely bottomed out. The feeling of him filling you up completely was overwhelming in the best way possible. Every sense was completely overtaken by the need for more of him. His taste, his smell, his touch. All of it. And after a while, you moved your hips to try to get him to continue.
“Move…please move.” You looked through your eyelashes at him, giving him your best pleading eyes. And looking at how pretty your eyes were in this scenario, it took him all he could to keep from pounding away. He slowly left your body, not fully taking himself out before thrusting hard into you. The movement jolted your body along with the bike under you, and he continued with the pace and force he wanted to use. 
You brought a hand up to bite, an attempt at keeping your moans in at the feeling of being so full. He moved his hand from your thigh to grab at your hand muffling your sounds, pulling it away from your mouth and placing it on his chest, before he returned his hand back to your thigh.
“I want…I need to hear my pretty girl,” he groaned out, punctuating his words with particularly hard thrusts causing moans to spill out. You felt him twitch inside you with every sound drawn out of you. “Can you feel what your pretty noises do to me, baby? You sound so beautiful.”
Your nails dug into his skin, running across his chest and grabbing his biceps. Red streaks followed your fingers, and you felt his hard biceps ripple every time he pulled you onto him. His strength only served to turn you on more, clenching around his length. That erupted a deep groan from his chest, an enchanting sound that you would definitely keep engrained in your memory.
The coil in your stomach tightened more with each thrust. You knew you needed just a little bit more, something to truly tip you over the edge. You took one of your hands off his upper arms and moved to circle your clit. That was it. You were thrown over your precipice as your eyes rolled back into your head. All you could think was Yeosang, Yeosang, Yeosang. 
He watched as your back arched into him, chest pressing against his as he slowed down a bit, letting you ride your waves. You eventually came back down, eyes hazy and glazed over. The slow drags of his cock helped to ride out the aftershocks. Your body fell limp into him.
Yeosang eventually started to pick up the pace, the dazed look in your eyes spurring him on. His low moans in your ear signaled the nearing of his end. His thrusts became sporadic as his grip tightened impossibly more on your thigh. He was using you to get off now and it made a rush of heat fill your body. His hair fell in front of his face, his eyes shut tightly as he focused on his own pleasure.
“Cum, Sangie. I wanna see you cum, please please please.” You whined into his ear, the overstimulation of his continual pace causing every nerve in your body to be lit on fire. Your nails dug deeper into his shoulders, and they made their way to his back, dragging angry red lines across the expanse. You felt how his cock twitched at that, and a deep groan emanated from his throat. There it is. You kept dragging your nails across his back feeling as his pace started to lose its rhythm. And finally, with one last deep moan, he stilled in you, his face buried deep in your neck.
You felt his breath fanning across your neck, your eyes blinking shut at the sensation. It all felt truly perfect. His deep breaths in your ear, the feeling of being so full of him, his body weight resting slightly on yours, arm around your waist keeping you close to him, the smell of the ocean and your bodies mixed. He slowly started pressing delicate kisses down your neck and into your shoulder, causing a shiver to wrack through your body.
“That was…that was really good,” he giggled in his deep voice. You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet. He moved away from your neck to look down at you and your blissed-out face. He swore he could stay like this forever, watching as the light from the sunset cast beautiful colors onto your skin, giving you a glow. 
And then your eyes opened to meet him again, and something about the way you smiled at him made him realize that this was not just a one-time thing.
~~~
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bettyfrommars · 3 months
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
Part 3: Crimson and Clover
Eddie x fem!Reader & Steve x older!OC
masterlist playlist
18+MDNI, not too many warnings for this part just mention of losing a parent, hint to an abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, tons of awkward flirting, eventual smut, but very much a slow burn. Steve is in his mid-late 20's, aunt Kim is mid 30's to early 40's, or whatever age you are, dear reader.
wc: 4.5k
Summary: Hello! We're getting to know a bit more about the character dynamics, listening to some of Eddie's thoughts, and catching a glimpse at a third possible romance on the horizon. Preparing us for the wild ride that starts in the next chapter.
Songs for this chapter: Under the Milky Way/The Church Edge of a Broken Heart/Vixen Seek and Destroy/Metallica
The shores of the resort were thick the next day with people who worshiped the sun, playfully kicking at the water in their bathing suits, stretched out in their lounge chairs, glistening in layers of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.  
You, on the other hand, were still fully clothed, covered in SPF, under one of the big umbrella’s the resort offered with your headphones on to drown out the sound of the screaming children.  Your dad was in the shade next to you, absorbed in a book, while aunt Kim caught some rays on her backside in a black one-piece that was high at the hip, flipping through an issue of People magazine.  It was the Summer of Love issue celebrating the 1960’s with the Beatles on the front and the quote: “It’s 20 years later, do you know where your love beads are?”
“Don’t you want to get in the water, Bird?” Your aunt cooed politely, adjusting her big sunglasses on her face.
You shook your head, pulling your headphones down.  “I think I’ve developed a phobia of public watering holes.”
“Suit yourself,” she sat up and brushed herself off.  “I think I’ll take a quick dip.”
“Watch out for sharks,” you quipped, earning the weight of a magazine being thrown at your hip.
“This has been enough excitement for me,” your dad cleared his throat, placing a bookmark to save his spot, standing from his chair, knees popping.  “I think I’ll head in, get some writing done before dinner.”
“Later dad,” you mumbled, wishing you had an excuse to hide in a room by yourself all day.  
Once he was gone, Kim took a drink out of her water bottle and heaved a sigh.  “I wish the two of you would give this place a chance.  Look at that lake!” She stretched her arm out, pointing. “It’s breathtaking.”
You gazed out at the expanse of the cheery, vacation scene, bursting with melancholy.  “Mom would’ve loved this place,” you choked on the last word, not sure where that fresh pang of emotion had come from.  
Kim chewed the inside of her cheek, equally adrift in reverie, when a body stepped up to block the sun, putting her in its shadow.  “I was hoping I’d run into you again.” 
The body belonged to Steve, and he was shirtless, in a pair of navy-blue Staff swim trunks, short and slightly snug against his hairy thighs, and flip flops.  His lips were glossy, and even though he wore sunglasses, he had to shield his face with his hand, squinting against the sun so hard that his top lip curled.
Kim tried to speak so fast she coughed, wondering if she looked too frumpy in the suit she had on.  What was she thinking? He had to be a good 10 years younger than her, no way he was interested in—
“Kim, right?” He aimed a finger gun at her, but then he struggled a bit with your name, snapping his fingers to ignite recollection.
“And you’re Steve,” Kim's eyes couldn’t help but land on the silver chain nestled in his ample chest hair.  “Did you, um, are you working on your tan?”
It took him a second to catch what she was referring to, and then he smirked, pulling a crumpled polo from his back pocket.  “I jumped in to cover lifeguard duty for a buddy of mine,” and then he shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and so did she.  “If you ever need a swimming lesson, I’m your guy.”
“You’re a swim instructor too?” Kim asked, impressed. Steve put his hands on his hips, accentuating broad shoulder muscles.
“Nah,” he shrugged, tucking his chin. “But I’d do my best.”
You dropped your gaze to the sketchbook you’d been doodling in, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening.  From the headphones around your neck, the song Under the Milky Way by The Church played and a handful of kids ran by you giggling, dusting sand onto your blanket.
Steve wished you a good afternoon just before he excused himself, seemingly headed back to the pool area.  You thought he’d been on his way somewhere else, but you were mistaken.
“I think he likes you,” you swirled a few doodles, raising an eyebrow.
“Noooo,” Kim gave a long protest, adjusting the straps of her bathing suit.  “He works here, it’s his job to be friendly.  
“Yeah? Is it his job to keep checking over his shoulder at you as he walks away?”
Kim peeked just as the man in question tripped over his own feet.  Regaining his balance, he waved and said, “I’m okay,” and then proceeded to put his shirt back on as he approached the lifeguard station. 
It was your turn to stiffen and feel tingly all over when you spotted Eddie strolling down the sidewalk from the main house, wearing a tool belt loose at his hips to accompany his denim and staff shirt attire.  
From the way he knocked that Lance guy out with one punch the other night, you wondered if his hand hurt.  Adjusting yourself, you wet your lips, as if he’d spot you or something, which was impossible from that distance.  He cut in front of the fenced pool area, heading for the outdoor bar that had a thatched roof like you’d see at a tropical beach.  For the first time that day, you noticed that Chrissy was working the area, carting fancy drinks around to the guests at the pool.  Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she turned from what she was doing to talk to him.  
She dipped her chin a few times in answer to whatever questions he was asking, and then he squeezed her arm affectionately before taking off again.  
“Do you want anything from the bar?” You got to your feet, dropping your Walkman to the towel.
Kim cocked her head, considering the question.  “Is it too early for alcohol?”
Eddie was back on the path, his back to you as he got further away, but your attention was on Chrissy mixing cocktails in a metal shaker.  
“I can see if they have mimosas?” You weren’t thirsty, really, but you were curious.  
Kim decided on a bloody mary and asked you to put it on her tab, slipping you a few bucks for a tip.  
The smile Chrissy gave you as you approached was polite, but it did not reach her eyes.  “What can I get for ya?”
You told her, fumbling over your words a bit, and then waited on one of the five stools for her to make your drinks.  She scooped ice into a Styrofoam cup and tossed in a jigger of alcohol. You noticed a gold, heart shaped locket around her neck with something engraved on the front.  
“Is it true you used to play with Vixen?” You asked, in awe.
Chrissy’s face fell and she paused to stare at  you.  “Who told you that?”
“Oh, um, Joyce, she, well—sounded like she was proud of you.”
Chrissy went back to work.  “That was a long time ago, back when life was good.”
“It’s not good now?” You were intruding, and you knew it, but still, you couldn’t help yourself.  
Chrissy scoffed. “You could say that. Lemon in your tea?”
You nodded, wondering if there was anything you could say or do to cheer her up.  
“How long have you and Eddie been together?” 
She frowned down at what she was doing.  “Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected.  “He’s like a brother to me. Known him since I was a kid.”
“Oh I see,” you pressed your lips together, trying not to appear relieved at that news.  
There was a lull of silence as she finished up and you felt compelled to fill it.  “I saw you play with the house band last night.  I think you’re really talented.”
You could hear the click of her molars gnashing together when she placed both drinks in front of you. “Playing lame cover songs for a no-name house band is the best I can do with my life right now. Music is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”
You used some of your own cash to give her an even bigger tip and scooped up your drinks.
“Hey, wait,” Chrissy called after you. She rubbed her forehead and tried to smile.  “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m, that I’m being such a bitch,” she shrugged. “It’s been a shit couple days.”
You shook your head, cold drinks sweating in your hands, about to tell her that you understood, but the two of you were interrupted.  
“Bird, there you are,” you froze at the sound of Troy’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the amenities.”
Troy had a green and white tennis outfit on with a racket in his hand, and you caught the way Chrissy tensed and quickly turned away at his entrance.  She folded the tip you’d left and put it in the front pocket of her apron.  He came up close to  you—too close, invading your bubble—and so you shuffled back, bumping into one of the stools.  
“The staff is treating you well, I hope?” He leaned against the tiki bar, and it was not lost on you that Chrissy pretended to be so busy she didn’t notice him.
“Just about to bring this to my aunt,” you lifted the red drink with the celery stick sticking out of it. You glanced at Chrissy, but she went to the other side of the bar to help someone else.  “The service here is impeccable,” you said, loud enough for her to hear.
You headed out and he kept up, sticking by your side. “I’ll walk with you,” he winked.
“Great,” your smile was a tight, thin line.  
—-------
Eddie bent at the waist to sip from the stone drinking fountain near one of the utility sheds and splashed water on his face a few times, combing wet fingers through his hair so that his bangs were off his forehead.  He worked the cool water around the back of his neck, wondering if he had a sunburn.  He loved Indiana for the fall colors and the long winters, but the summer? The summer heat could go fuck itself.  
Water was still dripping from his chin and nose when Steve walked up, sunlight through the leaves making patterns on his face.   
“Did Robin mention we need to borrow your van tomorrow night?” Steve bent down to take a sip from the fountain after he asked it.  
Eddie pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, exposing his stomach and trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband.  “As long as you don’t bring it back on empty. What’s wrong with your car?”
“We need to pick up a bunch of Robin’s stuff from her ex’s house,” Steve raised his brows high, locking them in place. “Girl is a bit of a psycho, I don’t want Robbie to go alone.
Over Steve’s shoulder, he caught sight of you making your way back to the umbrella with Troy by your side and he hoped that you were smart enough to know that guy was a piece of shit.
“I work late tomorrow, but I’ll help you unload when you get back,” the tip of Eddie’s tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting to you again.  You weren’t some goddess from the cover of a hotrod magazine, or one of the metal babes who always tried to go down on him when he used to play shows with his old band, but yet, without knowing anything about you, the sight of you made his heart jump into his throat.
“Nah, we got it,” Steve talked as the two started walking.  “It’s just a mattress and a chair and some clothes I think.  I told her just to let them go, but it's the principle I suppose.”
“I get it man, believe me,” Eddie once drove three states just to get a rare Scorpions concert tee back from an ex who stomped his heart.
“Hey,” Eddie caught Steve before he headed off in the other direction.  “Jam at the Hideout tonight?”
They bumped fists. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
—-------
The movie Casablanca was the offering at the outdoor theater that night, and respective families cuddled on the lawn on their various blankets and camp chairs under cover of generous tree branches.  Halfway through, you excused yourself from your aunt’s company to find the restroom, and that was when you spotted Chrissy and Troy having what appeared to be a heated conversion at the curve of the sidewalk near the rose garden.  You ducked behind a tree just as Humphrey Bogart said one of his infamous lines on the screen.  
Since everyone’s attention was occupied elsewhere, no one but you saw the way Chrissy pointed in Troy’s face, only for him to snatch her wrist in a way that made you gasp.  She yanked her arm away and turned on her heel, but then he caught up and lunged in front of her.  Whatever he said to her then calmed things down for a moment, she stopped trying to break free, and then he cupped her face as if he were about to kiss her, but she shoved away again.  That time, he let her go.  Hands balled into fists in his pockets, head down, he stormed off in the opposite direction, toward you.
You stood very still, hoping to be mistaken for the thick trunk of the tree, and thankfully, it worked. You came around to glare at his backside, but then trotted after Chrissy.  She was long gone, walking as fast as her feet could carry her along the treeline, and you didn’t think she’d appreciate you screaming her name at the top of your lungs in front of the other guests.  
It was pure luck that made you take notice of something shiny on the ground, a pile of glistening gold on the sidewalk.
It was a necklace, a heart locket to be exact, much like the one you’d noticed around Chrissy’s neck earlier that day.  You ran your thumb over the engraving on the front and let the delicate chain drag along the back of  your hand.  
You were sure that it belonged to Chrissy, the clasp must’ve broken during the struggle with Troy.  You had to get it back to her somehow.  
—-------
“Where are you going?” Your dad asked as you sailed through the living room on your way to the door later that evening.  He looked at his wristwatch.  “It’s almost 11.”
You’d planned on him being in bed already.  “I, well, I ahh—” you scrambled for an excuse, something that wasn’t “I’m going off the property to where people fight and get drunk and listen to metal”.  You were 21 and technically, by the law of the land, could do anything you wanted, but anyone who has ever traveled with family is familiar with the tendency to be treated like a child infinitely.  He loved  you, he worried about you, and you didn’t want him to stay up all night pacing, so, you lied.  
“There’s a meteor shower tonight, and a bunch of the guests are watching from the boat docks,” god, you hoped he wouldn’t fact check you on that.
He shuffled some saltines absently out of a tin.  “You’re still coming on the boat with us tomorrow morning?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you beamed, clenching the front of your jean jacket closed to hide the revealing shirt you wore underneath.  
You raced down the porch steps once you were able, dashing into the night with Chrissy’s necklace safe in your pocket.
—-----
A guy in a Black Sabbath shirt and a drastic mullet with hair down his shoulders moved out of the way for you as you crossed the bridge, and then you had to stand there and take a breath. Robin wasn’t with you and you hadn’t been invited to the Hideout this time, maybe they wouldn’t want you?  Surely you could find Chrissy at work the next day and give her the necklace then? Fuck it, you were almost there.  
You could hear the shrill feedback from a guitar and then someone speaking into a microphone.  Was that Eddie’s voice? Your heart raced.  People cheered at whatever was said, and then the drum beat kicked in a few times, followed by guitar riffs, and a woman’s voice singing the Vixen intro to Edge of a Broken Heart.
“I can't believe I could have been so blind
But love is strange
I thought about it for a long long time
But the truth remains”
You could feel the music in your chest.  Was that Chrissy? Perhaps it was the “band practice” Robin told you about, but the music didn’t sound at all like what you’d expect to hear from the conservative house band. The sliding door was open once you were in view, with people mingling outside, and you dodged around them, sucking in a plume of secondhand smoke from a passerby.   
Slithering through a few more bodies, you stepped right over the spot where Lance had gone down the night before, and then you had the perfect view of Chrissy exercising her impressive pipes on the microphone under a few ropes of tiny, pale string lights.  
Steve was on bass, hair flopping in his face, his mouth holding an “O” shape as he played. He had on a thin white tee that was soaked through with sweat on the front atop belted blue jeans.  Eddie arched back, exposing his throat, his fingers deftly working the strings on his smoke black Warlock guitar.  He had a Bark at the Moon shirt on with wide, ripped out arm holes exposing the tattoo work on his ribs.  His hair hung in his face when he bent over to play, a frown of concentration knitting his brows together.
Chrissy jabbed her fist in the air for the chorus and the crowd screamed it:
“I've been living on the edge of a broken heart
I don't wanna fall, I don't wanna crawl
I've been living on the edge of a broken heart
Don't you wonder why I gotta say goodbye”
She commanded the stage, playing guitar as she sang. You were too absorbed to realize that you had made your way forward and were right there front and center when Eddie glanced up.
He wasn’t expecting to see you, so he did a dramatic double take, nostrils flaring the moment your eyes connected.  Why couldn’t you just stay away?
A smile teased at the corners of your mouth, but faded to an unsure lip bite when he averted his gaze, scowl deepening.  He ignored you for the rest of the song. 
When it was over, there were cheers and whistles all around.  The drummer with the mop of tawny hair twirled one of their drumsticks in the air with a flourish and caught it, clapping the high hat.  Voices murmured around you as people fell back into conversation while they had a break from the volume of the amps, and you shuffled to the side, following Chrissy as she took her guitar off and held it by the fretboard.  She had on a cropped shirt with her shorts, golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders, her short fingernails painted black.  There were a few old, wooden apple box crates stacked on top of each other to act as a makeshift table, and she grabbed the neck of the beer that was waiting there to take a sip.   
Eddie continued to play, wailing on the guitar with precision, while Steve and the drummer followed his lead to the tune of Seek and Destroy by Metallica.
You tapped Chrissy on the shoulder, and she jumped.  “Oh shit, you scared me,” she said, spinning around. She checked around as if she were expecting to see someone else there.  “Where’s Robin? Is she with you?”
“No, I, just a sec—” you dug around in the front pocket of your jacket, panicking for a moment that you forgot to bring the locket with you. “I found this on the sidewalk, and I thought maybe you dropped it?”
Chrissy gasped at the sight of it and her eyes began to water.  “How did you–?” A sob caught in her throat, and she reached out to gently take it from you.  She shook her head in disbelief.  “I looked everywhere, I thought it was gone forever, I—”
“I thought that was you!” It was Robin, bobbing on the balls of her feet as she came up to nudge your shoulder.  But then, her attention turned to Chrissy and her face tensed with concern.  “What happened, why are you crying?”
“No, no,” Chrissy sniffed and opened her fist to show Robin the piece of jewelry.  “It’s my grandmother’s locket I told you about.  Bird found it.”
Robin bent to get a closer look and the two women knocked their heads together, sharing a laugh.  “The clasp is broken though,” Chrissy mused.  “It must’ve come off when—” she swallowed, deciding not to finish that sentence.  “I’ll take it into town to get it fixed this weekend.”
“Give it here, I’ll fix it for you,” Robin volunteered.  “Not only can I unclog a toilet, but I’m also pretty crafty.”
“Y-you’d do that for me?” She asked as she was passing it over.
“Of course,” Robin chuckled.  “I’d do anything for y—I mean, what are friends for right?”
Chrissy turned her attention back to thank you properly when Steve pushed in between the other two girls and slung his arms around their shoulders.  “What's going on?”
Robin cringed.  “Gross, Dingus, you’re all sweaty,” to which he shook his head and droplets from his hair flew everywhere, making the girls scream and push him off.
The three of them got into conversation about something and you sank back against the corrugated metal wall to observe.  You hadn’t noticed the music stopped but the drummer was in the crowd having a beer and just as you were on your toes trying to find Eddie, a warm body sank in next to you.  
“Hey,” Eddie said.
You looked just in time to catch his gaze traveling down your body, but then he was quick to lift his beer to his mouth and pretended to be watching the crowd. 
“Hey,” you returned, suddenly full sentences and conversation felt so foreign.  You were acutely aware that there was plenty of space along the wall, but he was pressed close, bare arm touching yours.  
“They let you stay out this late on a school night?” He grinned against the aluminum rim, amusing himself.  He had a second beer in his other hand, and he passed it to you.
“Ha. Ha.” 
He had one knee bent with his foot on the wall while the other leg stretched long to show the heavily scuffed toe of his black boot.  
You shuddered despite the heat.  “So, how long have you and Chrissy been playing music together?”
He hummed, shifting so that his bicep rubbed against you, squinting one eye shut in thought, tilting his head back.  “Been something like a decade now, I think? Feels longer.  Feels like I’m 60 years old some days.”
“How old are you though?” You swallowed so hard your throat clicked.  “45? 50?”
He leaned into you, hard enough to push you over if your feet weren’t planted, his hair skimming your shoulder.  “Close enough,” he paused to say something else, but then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.  
He wanted to ask how long you’d been playing the cello, but how would he even know you did without admitting he’d watched you that night from the street like a stalker? “Do you think you’re gonna stick around, watch us play some more?”
“I could,” you were about to add something super cheesy like, “if you want me to,” but opted for nonchalant.  “I love watching Chrissy play.”
He nodded a few times, and pushed off the wall, handing you his beer.  “Hold this for me?” His silky brown eyes locked onto yours, the tip of his tongue resting between parted lips.  “Please?”
There you were, holding Eddie Munson’s beer.  He got behind the mic and took his shirt all the way off to wipe his face with it before strapping his guitar on.  The next song they did was an original, something that Eddie and Chrissy wrote, and Chrissy came in on backup vocals, while Eddie growled out the lyrics, banging his head every so often.   He swiped his bangs from his forehead, wet with perspiration, and his fingers worked like magic along the strings.  At one point, he and Chrissy shared the same mic, belting out the words.  
He made eye contact with you three times, not that you were counting.  Each time longer than the last.  When it was over, he came out and took his beer from you, fingers touching as he did so.
“Eddie, I think I—” you were about to let him know you should probably get going, but he’d already turned, chugging the rest of the beer as he went, and then they were right into the next song.  
Eddie wasn’t sure why you made him so curious, but the voices in his head were screaming at him to shake it off.  Somehow, he’d gone four years without getting involved with a summer person, he’d never even been tempted really.  Nothing good could come of it, especially since he’d probably end up being nothing but a vacation fuck for you to brag to your friends about.  
He glanced around but couldn’t find you during the song.  When he went to check for you at the wall, you were gone.  
---
thank you again for the love on this and for reading!
---
taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00
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neteyamsoare · 8 months
Text
Sober Up First.
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༉‧₊˚. Featuring. Ralak Sepwan x Fem! Sully! Omatikaya! Drunk! Reader.
༉‧₊˚. Request From [@inlovewithpandora]. Prompt for 1.3K celebration! Ralak x fem!sully!reader character A kissing a drunk character B (who is coming onto them strong) and then realizing they’re drunk and being like “no i can’t believe i’m saying this but no, not like this” There is a celebration in the village and reader decides to drink some fermented fruit (aka alcohol) and as she drinks she doesn’t think it’s that effective so she drinks ALOT and it sneaks up on her bc she isn’t used to the Metkayina type alcohol bc it’s stronger than what the Omatikaya drink. I’m thinking reader and Ralak are just in the talking stage so they haven’t kissed or anything yet so when Reader comes up to him and pulls him away from the warriors (or whoever he’s talking to) and starts heavily flirting, being touchy-feely, and kissing him etc. etc. he’s taken by surprise but he kisses her back anyway bc ofc he can’t resist until he begins to taste the alcohol on her lips so he pulls back and tells her the quote above.
༉‧₊˚. Summary. With alcohol in your system, you try to take your relationship further with Ralak.
༉‧₊˚. General Tags. Fluff.
༉‧₊˚. Content Warnings. Alcohol is mentioned and Aged!up Ao’nung.
༉‧₊˚. Word Count. 1,2k.
༉‧₊˚. Index. Akula — [is a Pandoran ocean animal that roams the reefs of the Eastern Sea], Yuey — [beautiful (inner beauty)], Tanhì — [star], Syulang — [flower], Irayo — [thank you], and Tsurak — [also knowing as a Skimwing: is a Pandoran creature inhabiting the tropical oceans].
༉‧₊˚. Notes. Thank you to @zestys-stuff and @tiredmamaissy for bringing this handsome man to life!! Also thank you to Zesty (the creator of him) for allowing me to write for him!! 🥰 I love him so much and wanted to write for him so much. This is my first piece for him, still trying to get his character right, hope you guys love it. | Also thank you boo for sending in this prompt, had so much fun writing it, hope you like it!!
༉‧₊˚. Extra. Comments, likes, and reblogs are highly appreciated but not pressured. 🤍
༉‧₊˚. Starred Links. Navigation + Masterlist + Prompts + Taglist
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You walk into the party the Metkayina are having for Ao'nung and his new mate, everyone is excited for the new couple especially since they will be the new leaders of the clan when Tonowari and Ronal step down.
You took a deep breath as you started to look around, many people were already dancing with each other, grinding on their mates, and others were talking and laughing with their friends as they drank.
Parties were always your thing back in the forest, you always loved to party, hang out with friends, and drink but now you only cared about one thing— well one person, Ralak. 
A guy you caught feelings for ever since coming here and you recently found out he felt the same, he was the one to invite you to this party and the reason why you were late, you wanted to make sure you looked good so you took out your braids for the night and wore your best top and loincloth that you weaved yourself. 
“[Name]! You made it!!” You hear a voice say behind you and you turn to see Tsireya smiling at you as she reaches for your hand, leading you to where the drinks were. “[Name], you should get a drink!!” She shouts and you could tell she was drunk already and let out a laugh.
“Sure, I missed getting loose like this,” you commented as you still tried to look around for Ralak but he was nowhere in sight, maybe he decided not to come, you didn’t want to think of that as a possibility but you can’t help but let your mind wander to that thought and once Tsireya hands you over the small cup with alcohol in it and you lift to your lips swallowing each drop as you feel the burn as it goes down your throat. 
When you finish it, you ask for another cup and Tsireya raises an eyebrow bone at you.
“Are you about that, [Name]? This stuff is pretty strong,” she warns but you shrug it off, you were used to drinking back in the forest so you thought you can handle the alcohol they had here.
“It’s fine, I can handle more,” you smirked as you pass her the cup you had. 
A few minutes had passed and the alcohol had fully taken over your body, it was more substantial than you expected, you assumed it would be like the alcohol you had back home but it wasn't, it was 2 times stronger than you were used to.
Tsireya had pulled you over to the dance floor after your last cup and started dancing, you so out of it started dancing as well as giggles were making their way out of your mouth.
As you dance, you looked around and your eyes landed on him, there was a bit of a distance between the two of you and he was talking to someone who looked like one of the warriors you had seen talking to your father.
A smile spreads across your face as you stop dancing and made your way over to him.
As you stumbled a bit over to him, you couldn't help but admire his features, he was so handsome, he was tall which made you always squeeze your thighs together whenever he walked up to you and beautiful bioluminescent freckles were laid all over his body.
You bit your bottom lip as his eyes connect with yours and a small smile is thrown your way.
“Fighting an Akula is my dream,” is all could manage to hear come out of the warrior’s mouth as you intertwine your hand with his, pulling him away from the conversation, too drunk to remember mannerisms.
Ralak quickly wraps up the discussion as he allows you to drag him away from the party a bit, leading him more towards the ocean so the two of you didn’t have to shout to hear each other. 
“You look so yuey, tanhì,” Ralak states as he looks at you from head to toe, a blush spreads across your cheeks and a smile forms on your face.
“Irayo,” you smirked as one of your hands on his chest feeling up his pecs, his hands made their way to your waist pulling you in a little and you let out a small giggle as you look up into his eyes.
“What are the odds that I move to the Metkayina and meet a very sayrip guy like you?” You questioned not breaking eye contact with him as you gently caressed his tattoo that was placed on his lower abdomen leading to his cock. 
You look down at his lips and you bite down on your bottom lip as you look back up at his eyes, leaning in closer getting on your tippy toes as he bends down a bit to connect his lips with your soft ones. 
The kiss was very gentle and tender, you smiled into the kiss as your hand gently stroked his queue as soft moans comes out of your mouth.
This comes as a shock for Ralak, since the relationship was new, you both had agreed to take it slow, this was the first time the two of you kissed and it was the first time he saw you being touchy with him. Well, you loved touching him before but this was different. 
You open your mouth a bit letting him slide his tongue with ease as it rolls against yours, his hands start to travel down your waist until they land on your round soft ass, squeezing it a bit making you moan into his mouth.
Ralak's eyes widen a bit when he tastes the liquor on your tongue, he immediately pulls away which brings a frown on your face as you catch your breath. “No I can’t believe I’m saying this but no, not like this” 
 “What’s wrong?” You queried, oblivious to the problem. “Tanhì… you’re drunk,” Ralak responded as he took your hand, squeezing it a bit.
“I only drank a little bit, it’s okay,” you slurred over your words but he sighed. “I want more than anything to take our relationship to the next level… just not like this.” He looks down at you with a small smile on his face. “I care about you too much.”
“But I want you now…” you whine, pouting a bit and he lets out a chuckle as he brings you closer to him. “I promise, syulang, when you’re sober, we can do anything you want but for now…” he bends down and gives your forehead a kiss.
“How about we go home and cuddle?” He offers and a smile reaches your lips as you snuggle against him.
“That sounds nice, but I do feel a bit drowsy.” Ralak smiles as he intertwines his hand with yours, walking towards the ocean as he calls for his tsurak, your tail wrapping around his leg to feel more closer to him than you already were.
If you was to go back in time, you would choose him over and over again, hell you’d choose him in any life, you were each others soulmate and you wouldn’t want it any other way.
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Sweet Tooth
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summary: Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish becomes a frequent customer in your café from one day to the other, always ordering the sweetest options on the menu. You start to prefer his presence over that of all your other regulars, which is why he leaves such a large gap when he's suddenly gone for three months.
notes: don’t drink coffee, so idk which one is the best – pls don’t come at me if you hate it!!
warnings: fem!reader, smut, lots and lots of food mentions
tagged: @ghostsoapgirl @devstinyy @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper (msg me to be added/removed from a taglist <3)
based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!
When the client dings the bell on your counter a few times, you expected him to be someone rude, probably annoying and hard to handle. Instead, he leaned over the counter and gave you a bright smile.
“Could I get one a’ those things there?” he asked, pointing to a caramel chocolate slice sitting in the display.
“A chocolate caramel slice?” you replied, and he shrugged.
“Sure. Could I get a coffee with that?”
“What kind?” you asked, and he gave you another dazzling smile.
“Whatever the lady thinks is best.”
You snorted at his obvious flirting, but nodded. “I’ll make you a mocha to go with that slice.” You suggested.
“Thanks love.” He replied, handing over some cash. As you glanced outside, you noticed that it was already late. Close to closing time, actually.
“Isn’t six a little late for a coffee?” you asked him as you handed his coffee over. The café was deserted of other customers, probably due to the opening times. A regular sat in the corner, scribbling onto her notepad.
“I’ve got jetlag anyway.”
“Where you coming from?” you asked.
“Mexico.” He answered. “Little bit more tropical than ‘round here.”
You glanced around once more. It didn’t seem like anyone needed your assistance, so you slid onto the bench across from him.
“Home from vacation then?” you asked.
“I wish.” He replied.
“You’re not from around here.” You said. “Never seen you.”
“Never home for long. The name’s John, by the way.”
“Y/N.” you replied. “You should come here more often. Those caramel slices don’t get sold on their own.”
“You work here on the other days too?” John asked.
“Yep. It’s my café, so I’m always behind the counter.”
“Then I’m sure to come back.” John replied,  
~~~
As promised, he came back the next day, this time for breakfast. It became apparent very quickly that he had a sweet tooth. After two chocolate croissants and a brownie, he finally brought his plate back to you. You knew it was an excuse to talk to you, but you certainly did not mind.
“How do you stay in shape eating all that?” you asked, taking the plate from him.
“My Lieutenant’s a tough guy.” He shrugged.
“You’re military?”
“Special ops.”
“Do you have one of those callsign thingies as well?” you asked, and he snorted.
“Yeah. Soap.”
“Soap?”
“I’m good at cleaning and bad at losing, love.” He replied. There it was again. The nickname that made your stomach somersault and you grin like an idiot.
“You still there, hen?” he asked, and your eyes snapped up.
“Yeah, of course, why?”
“You’re staring.”
You knew you were blushing. “I wasn’t.”
John laughed again, stacking his empty plates. He grabbed a phone from his pocket, sliding it across the table.
“Nokia?” you asked. “Does that come with the special ops package?”
“Pretty much.” He replied. “Are you going to put your number in for me, love? Don’t wanna come back ‘ere and see the café bein’ closed.”
“Will I be opening the café for you in the middle of the night then?” you asked, putting your number into the phone.
“Nah. Just wanna have someone to talk to.” Johnny replied. He left some time afterwards, promising to come back soon.
~~~
‘Soon’ turned out to be three months. And when John did return, you were in the process of closing up. You froze when you saw him standing in the doorway. He was still wearing some of his military uniform, a heavy duffel bag in his left hand, his other holding his ancient phone.
He looked forlorn, standing there, as if he wasn’t quite sure why he’d come.
“Hey.” You mumbled, immediately feeling like an idiot. You let your cleaning supplies sink, walking towards John.
“You okay?” you asked, trying to get a reaction out of him. Slowly, he nodded, before changing his mind and shaking his head. Hugging him felt instinctual, and he hugged you back almost immediately.
At some point, he let go of you, and you carefully maneuvered him to sit at one of the tables, slipping behind the counter to make him a cup of tea. John didn’t talk as much as he normally did, and you sat with him in silence for a while.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you asked. He seemed to think for a while, before a hint of a smile returned to his face.
“Let me take you out.” He said finally.
It wasn’t something you had to think about, even though his response seemed a little cheesy.
“I’d like that.” You replied, and his smile widened a bit more.
He texted you the next morning, using abbreviations that you were sure no one else on the planet was using. It was an invite to an Italian place, one that was near your café and you knew was good. So much so that it made your stomach rumble at the thought of going there tonight.
For once, you were the one walking towards John, who was already sitting at a small table, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant.
As you approached him, John stood up to greet you with a warm smile. He pulled out your chair for you and you sat down, feeling your heart flutter at the gesture.
You both ordered your meals and began to chat about anything and everything. Even though you thought it impossible, John still managed to order the sweetest main course on the menu.
John told you about some of his experiences in the military, repeating over and over how he was leaving out the redacted parts, but you still found yourself hanging onto every word.
As the night wore on, you found yourself feeling more and more drawn to him. There was something about him that just made you feel comfortable and safe. And his easy laughter and charming personality didn't hurt either. When it came to the check, John insisted to pay, arguing that it was just him making up for his tips at the cafe (which had already been more than generous).
And as if that hadn’t been enough, John walked you back to your café after dinner. When the sidewalk became slimmer and slimmer, you felt your knuckles brush against his. You weren’t bold enough to grab his hand, but Johnny seemed to notice your hesitation, gently grabbing your hand.
“I hope it’s not too sweaty.” You said sheepishly, and John laughed, shaking his head.
“Woulda probably been my hand, if anything.” He replied.
“You know you don’t have to walk me to the café, right?” you asked softly. He shook his head in response.
“My Ma would kill me if I didn’t.” John said.
When you reached the door, he turned to face you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. There was a moment of thick silence, before he cleared his throat.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, his words only half a statement.
“The café’s closed.” You told him, knocking against the glass where the opening times were displayed.
“After tomorrow, then?” Johnny asked, and you nodded. He pulled you into a quick hug, before turning to leave. For a moment, you debated what to do-
“Fuck it.” You mumbled, grabbing his hand. John turned around, and before you could overthink your decision even more, you pulled him in for a kiss. A not-so-sweet or gentle one this time.
He pulled you so close your feet barely touched the ground. When you broke the kiss, he had a wide smile on his face.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Didn’t want you to go.” You admitted with a shrug.
“That’s one way o’ doin’ it.” He laughed, before he pulled you back in.
Almost in a flurry, you pulled him around the coffeeshop and up the stairs behind the building, into your apartment. Soap kicked the door shut behind him, lifting you up into the air. Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically.
Maybe you should have told him where the bedroom was, because Johnny seemed to halt for a moment. Before you could say something to him, he set you down on your kitchen table, his mouth finding your mouth.
As you felt a warmth spread through your stomach, his hands began to brush over your thighs, grabbing them with large hands, almost as if he was asking for your permission. His touch, even through clothed legs, made you feel dizzy, and a small moan escaped your mouth as his lips found yours again.
Eventually, the tension became too much to bear, and your hands slipped down towards his pants. Already, he was straining against the fabric, and that made you feel even dizzier, even more incoherent. All words left your brain, leaving your mind fuzzy.
Still, your hands worked on their own, slowly opening his pants. Johnny groaned in response, encouraging you to continue. Through the fabric of his boxers, you palmed his dick, and he leaned into your touch, pulling you even closer to him, towards the edge of the table.
Suddenly, there is a sense of frenzy that hadn’t been there before, a rush of taking off clothes. Your apartment was still dark, but when Johnny took off his shirt, kicking his pants to the ground, you could finally feel him. The strength that seemed to run through his muscles and lied right under his skin might have scared you, but right now, it was exhilarating.
Your own shirt was flung somewhere in your kitchen, your pants pooling under the table as Johnny pushed himself between your legs, his hands wandering downwards until-
“You’re so…” he began, trailing off. His fingers trailed up the insides of your thighs, setting your skin on fire, until they found your cunt. Quickly, he spit on his fingers, before beginning to rub your clit. Your head fell onto his shoulder, a groan leaving you. His mouth still on your neck, his fingers entered you.
He moved slowly at first, letting you accommodate before he sped up his movements, finding that spot inside of you that made you scream. Instinctually, your mouth found his shoulder, biting down. He seemed to like the pain, a loud moan escaping his mouth. You swore you could feel him smirk.
When your mouth left his shoulder, his hand shot up, holding your neck as his other hand began moving eratically. Inside of you, you could feel an orgasm building. You must have begged Soap for something, because his other hand slipped into you again, fingers crooking up.
You swore you saw stars. It sounded like a cliché, like something that would never happen to you, but you did.
“Can I?” he asked after a moment, his hand still on your thigh. Taking a breath, you nodded. With that, his boxers were gone as well, and Johnny lifted you up, slipping into you slowly. There was a small stretch, but you had already come once and he took his time with you, again.
Slowly, Johnny began to move, looking at you for any signs of discomfort, but as another moan feel from your mouth, he kissed you again, moving his lips against yours as if he was a drowning man and you air keeping him alive.
“Can I fuck you against the wall?” he asked, his tone almost begging, and that stoked something inside of you.
“Please.” You replied, gasping as he picked you up, carrying you again. All the while, Johnny stayed inside of you, until your back hit a wall of your apartment. It didn’t matter which one, only that Johnny was still moving, still making you feel good.
Johnny seemed to be able to read your mind, fulfilling your every need. His hands were all over you, palming your breasts, stroking along your curves, holding you close. He made you feel beautiful.
Your own hands were grappling to find something to hold onto. At some point, your nails dug into his back, raking downwards. You attempted to be gentle at first, but he spurred you on, asking you for more, almost begging. He liked pain, you realized.
And so, you increased the pressure when you felt like it. When Johnny thrust into you, you raked your nails down his skin, so harshly that you thought they would draw blood.
Your second orgasm took you by surprise, and it was good that Soap was holding you up, because you knew that your legs were shaking too hard to hold your weight. He followed soon after, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your body.
Afterwards, he set you down on your sofa, helping you clean yourself up.
“Your legs are a little shaky.” He noted smugly.
You huffed in response. “I think your arms aren’t doing too well either.”
Johnny laughed, handing you a glass of water as he dropped onto the sofa next to you.
“Seems like you really like Italian cuisine.” He said, and you laughed, letting your head drop onto his shoulder.
“Maybe I just like Scots.” You replied.
Johnny rolled his eyes, but he pulled you into his arms again.
“You really like hugs, huh?” you noticed. Johnny smiled, nodding almost bashfully.
“Are we doing this again? He asked.
You looked up at him. “The hugging part, the eating part or the fucking part?”
“All of the above?” he asked. When you agreed, Johnny kissed you again, taking his time with you until you felt your heart speed up.
“Oh god, if you don’t stop we’ll have to go for a second round.” You groaned.
Johnny smirked. “I wouldn’t mind that.”
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morallyinept · 5 months
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12 days of XXX-MAS themed stories, containing both smut & fluff, featuring a mix of the Pedro Boys.
Running from 14th Dec - 25th Dec!
Pedro Boys featured: Frankie Morales, Marcus Pike, Pre-Outbreak & Post-Outbreak Joel Miller, Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey), Javier Peña, Dieter Bravo, Max Phillips, Dave York & Marcus Moreno.
Pairings: Paired with F!Reader, GN!Reader, Mature!GN!Reader & Wife!Reader. (No name or physical description of Reader. It's you, bub.)
Scoville Smut Rating: 🌶🌶🌶 "You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Explicit - Please see each story individually for specific smut warnings/triggers etc...
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18's ONLY. YOU ARE SOLEY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don't come at me; you've been plenty warned.
MAIN MASTERLIST
Author Notes: I hope you enjoy reading these festively fluffy & seasonally smutty Christmas stories in the run up to Christmas Day.
Happy Holidays, lovelies! 🖤🎄
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🌶 - Contains smut 🖤 - Dark themes ☁️ - Fluff 🌈 - GN!Reader
🎄 Dec 14th - Unwrap Me 🌶 Frankie Morales x F!Reader
You gift yourself to Frankie as his early Christmas present, and he can't wait to unwrap you.
❄️ Dec 15th - Cowboy Christmas 🌶 Husband!Jack Daniels x Wife!Reader
Your husband Jack takes you out on a snowy Christmas Eve horse ride around the ranch, then helps you thaw out after.
🎄 Dec 16th - The Gift 🌶 Husband!Marcus Pike x Wife!Reader
Marcus buys you a naughty Christmas gift that you wear to his parents' Christmas lunch, and you both find it hard to stay composed at the dinner table.
❄️ Dec 17th - Christmas Cookies 🌶 Marcus Moreno x F!Reader
You and Marcus get creative with some left over icing, after he spends the morning baking Christmas cookies with Missy.
🎄 Dec 18th - O' Christmas Tree ☁️🌈 Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x Mature!GN!Reader
Joel chops down a fir tree and brings it home for you as a surprise.
❄️ Dec 19th - Blood & Tinsel 🌶🖤 Max Phillips x F!Reader
Your boss Max is your office Secret Santa, and gifts you with a rather interesting gift, that you feel incredibly compelled to thank him for.
🎄 Dec 20th - Strung Up 🌶 Husband!Dave York - Wife!Reader
You and your husband Dave are decorating the tree for a surprise in the morning for your girls. However, you get testy with him, and Dave finds an inventive way to keep you in check.
❄️ Dec 21st - Jet Set Christmas 🌶 Dieter Bravo x F!Reader
Dieter is flying away for a tropical filming schedule over Christmas, and you find a way to give him some First Class Service on his flight.
🎄 Dec 22nd - Yippee Ki-Yay! 🌶🌈 Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x GN!Reader
You, Sarah and Joel settle in to watch a Christmas film together, bickering gently over if Die Hard is classed as a Christmas movie or not. When Sarah goes to bed, you try and sway Joel to your opinion.
❄️ Dec 23rd - Nobody Wants To Be Alone On Christmas 🌶 Javier Peña x F!Reader
You discover your boss Javi will be spending the night alone, working on the cartel case on Christmas Eve, so you extend a kind offer for him to join you for some Christmas dinner.
🎄 Dec 24th - All I Want For Christmas ☁️ Frankie Morales x F!Reader
Frankie is facing the prospect of a lonely Christmas, and this time of year is particularly difficult for him with maintaining his sobriety. He and the Miller brothers go to a bar on Christmas Eve for festive drinks, and perhaps a chance encounter with you might make Frankie believe again in the magic of Christmas.
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❄️ Dec 25th - Mistletoe Kiss ☁️🌈 Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x GN!Reader
At the Tipsy Bison Christmas party in Jackson, you and Joel share your first kiss together under some mistletoe.
MAIN MASTERLIST
🖤🎄
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vviolets444rroses · 1 year
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dating ethan landry pt3
my HEADCANONS <3 :
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SFW only :)
part 1 | part 2
👻; he hates hard liquor. so you’ll just be sitting with him drinking something tropical. i feel like he secretly likes pink whitney, though.
👻; he loves raves💯 he always goes shirtless too. he used to be so self conscious about it, but now he’s chillin.
👻; he likes gorillaz, tyler the creator, deftones, pierce the viel, roar… (what do you think he’d listen to?)
👻; never broken the law once in his life. once when he was little, he accidentally took a push pop and cried when he realized he had it. (guys we’re ignoring the fact that he’s GF 😋)
👻; obsessed with action, sci-fi, and thriller movies. he makes you watch them, even if you’re afraid. you don’t mind because you have him to hold you.
👻; you guys slowly started developing each other’s mannerisms and habits. i.e., you laugh like him and he makes the same weird gestures that you do.
👻; he is always updating a playlist he made for you. he notices that you fall asleep to it when he’s doing homework late at night.
👻; he likes to rub your back while you sleep.
👻; he’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick.
👻; you’re always reminding him where he last had something. he forgets so easily.
👻; you don’t have room on your bed anymore because he buys you so many stuffed animals. you guys named them all.
👻; ^^ he won a lot of them at the fair. he will not stop playing until he wins.
👻; he loves mario kart and literally any fighting game. you can never win against him.
👻; dude… he has to be good at dance central and/or dance dance revolution.
👻; his bed smells like you. he even bought a bottle of your perfume so it never goes away.
👻; whenever you lose something, he buys another one for you. except he doesn’t even tell you. he lets you believe it just showed up.
👻; his favorite holidays include halloween and thanksgiving. one, you can’t fight him on saying halloween isn’t a holiday. two, he just likes to eat at thanksgiving.
👻; ^^ makes you wear a couple costume with him. it’s always something you don’t entirely understand. all these old timey shows that you slept through whenever ethan put it on.
👻; i bet he’s really clumsy. always getting hurt.
👻; he can’t tie a tie for the LIFE of him. he bought the clip ons, so he wouldn’t have to keep bothering you to help him.
👻; he probably slaps your ass after a few reps when you guys work out together. (is this sfw? idk i had to say it though😭)
👻; he def used to wear axe body spray☠️ you made him change it.
👻; now i think he would smell like something woodsy or like the ocean…
👻; when you fall asleep during a movie, he really wants to wake up up, but he doesn’t. he just ignores the fact that you’re asleep and talks quietly to himself as if you’re awake and listening to him😊
👻; he reminds me of these songs…
die for you (remix)
love you more than me
one more love song
i’m running out of ideas so send requests :) all of these are my opinion and just that. so please be nice! like and reblog if you enjoyed 🫶🏼
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professional-yapper · 3 months
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This is for the anon who's ask I unfortunately lost when I accidentally posted this fic prematurely 😭😭 I'm so sorry nonnie please forgive me 🙏
Anon asked for an Aonung X reader where the reader is a Na'vi from a colder region!
The Deal
Aonung x Snow/Mountain Na'vi! Reader
Warnings: none really, mild head injury ig, aonung is so painfully ooc im sorry guys
Sempu: Dad/Daddy [informal version of father] - tsyeym: treasure, something precious
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The call that land had been sighted went up shortly after dawn.
You were shaken from dreams of seals and shimmering landscapes by your father rising from the mat beside yours, rubbing a hand over his face blearily as he went to see for himself.
He was bare-chested and barefoot, wearing only pants, rolled up to his knees, as many of your fellow traders were, though the women kept their chest wrappings on for obvious reasons, having abandoned their warm furs and skins upon leaving the homeland.
You yourself were dressed simply for sleep, one of your father's old shirts, so worn thin from years of work it was perfect for the tropical climate you all had stumbled upon.
Some of the other traders had hopes of seeking out the reef, home of the aptly named reef people. You knew them by no other name. If they even had one.
Your own people were named in such a way that it couldn't be replicated here. A thin whistling noise made through the teeth, a mimicry of the icy wind that swirled across the snow covering the homeland.
But you also knew your father had no such hopes. The reef was too far, the surrounding seas too dangerous, filled with fantastical creatures that none of you could name. The not knowing was the worst part.
There was no way you could've found your way to the reef. And yet, soon, the boat was alive with traders running to redirect the vessel towards the land, calling and yipping to one another excitedly.
You sat, yawning and stretching, ears tilting downwards with the effort, the furs sliding off you as you did.
Your father smiled at you as he passed, reaching out to ruffle your hair, so like your mother's, though it had been months since you last saw her. "Come, tsyeym. Take a look. It's beautiful."
Unlike anything he had ever seen before, his eyes said as he glanced back towards the land, which came into view more strongly now, the last wisps of the fog snatched up and away by the brisk breeze.
You shifted onto your knees, leaning forward on your hands, still too sleepy to be bothered standing up, drinking in the sight laid before you greedily. A sky streaked with purple and crimson, and a sea stretching before you that reflected that.
So many sunrises, and each one as entrancing as the one before.
The reef was well within your sights now, and you could even see little figures, aqua blue in colour, high up on the layers of rock, probably coming to investigate.
Your father and a few other traders waved to them, but earned no response.
Instead, the reef people climbed down the rock levels and dove neatly into the sea, disappearing from you. You frowned. Where were they going? Were they coming towards the boat to see what you all wanted, or were they going to summon one of those mythical creatures to frighten you off?
Not sharing your father's natural optimistic personality, you stood and went over to him, tugging on his arm. "Sempu, maybe we should-"
"Look how fast they can swim, tsyeym," your father responded in a dreamy voice, watching the water, eyes fixed on them, and their forms cutting through the water became clearer to you the longer you stared. "They're made for this."
"We are not," you replied briskly, once again your mother's daughter with your practical personality. "Sempu, if they tip the boat-"
"Ah, my child. You worry too much," your father chuckled, wrapping a beefy arm around you and hugging you to his chest briefly, before striding off to help the other traders.
You huffed, but dared to move a few steps closer to the edge of the boat, following the reef people as they swam ever nearer, eyes narrowed with suspicion, hands fumbling for the fish knife that sat at your hip that you'd forgotten to take off after yesterday's evening meal.
Which also explained how uncomfortable sleeping on your side had been. Though obviously not uncomfortable enough to investigate. But nevertheless, you drew it and dropped to a crouch on the lip of the wood, gripping tightly with your fingers to keep yourself from tipping into the water, head over heels.
The reef people were close now, so close you could make out individual traits of each one. A few men, by the looks of it. Warriors, maybe. You frowned. You didn't care for warriors. The ones back home had biceps bigger than their brains, and mouths bigger than their biceps. The title of warrior was gifted as a show of strength and bravery, not intelligence or anything like that.
But you supposed it might be different here.
One of the men was actually a boy, judging by his smaller body and lack of tattoos. You leaned forward, trying to see better as they drew nearer, then swam entirely under the boat. Your frown grew. What were they doing?
Leaning further, further...
Then one of the reef people burst right out of the water before you, nose bumping against yours. You yelped, reeling back, dropping your knife in your shock.
There was a heavy moment of silence as you and the reef boy stared at each other.
He wasn't unpleasant. Just weird-looking. Hairless, like a fish. Pale and green and pink, with eyes like glaciers and dark curls that kept escaping the bun on the crown of his head.
You supposed by reef people standards he was quite attractive. By your standards too, but you couldn't even admit that to yourself.
"What are you?" he said finally, treading water and staring at you.
His attractiveness evaporated.
"What kind of a question is that?" you demanded, glaring back at him.
"I am the chief's son, you answer me first!"
You felt a headache coming on already. "That- how old are you? You sound like a little kid. And we don't recognise any kind of leadership, anyway, so take your title and stick it up your ass, princeling."
If looks could kill, you'd have just dropped dead.
He didn't say anything for a moment, taking a deep breath, ears flat against his head and nostrils flaring. Then, "Fine. I may have been too abrupt."
"A bit," you scoffed, earning another scowl from him.
"Let me finish. What I meant was; you're not like any Na'vi I've ever seen or heard of."
"So?" you replied, feeling too offended to even bother faking civility.
"So I want to know what kind of Na'vi you are. What's your tribe?" he said, ears flattening further, eyes dark and wet as he looked up at you, water lapping against his broad shoulders and chest.
"We're traders from up north. Our name is-" You made the sound for him, but the look on his face told you he wasn't going to even attempt to mimic it.
"We're Metkayina," he offered. "My name is Aonung."
"Oh," you hummed, making a note to tell your father the reef people had a name. You deliberated for a moment on whether or not to tell this rude fish boy Aonung your name, then decided not to.
And of course Aonung took offense to that too. "Aren't you going to tell me yours?" At least, you thought he would take offense. But he sounded almost amused, his expression shifting to something almost playful as he swam a little closer.
"Why should I?" you replied haughtily, curling your thick tail around your toes, hugging your knees to your chest. "You're kind of a skxwang."
Aonung laughed a little. "I get that a lot. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to offend you. Seriously. I didn't know you'd take it to heart."
You raised your eyes skyward, asking Eywa if this boy was serious. "You've got to be kidding. You hit me in the face then looked at me and asked what I was, like I was a dead animal you found floating in on the dawn tide."
"I did not look at you like that."
"You did! I saw you."
"I wasn't looking at you like that!"
Your sudden laughter surprised even you. "Okay, fine, you weren't looking at me like that," you relented, leaning forward. "What were you looking at me like then?"
He smiled at you, fangs pressing into his bottom lip a little. "Like I said. I wasn't looking at you any way."
You rolled your eyes. "You're infuriating. Are all reef boys this annoying?"
"Maybe. You should come find out," he said slyly.
"Sure, if your chief wants to make a trading agreement with us."
"My dad's the chief. I can talk to him if you want," he offered, and you noticed he was swimming closer to you ever so slightly, like if he moved slowly enough you wouldn't notice.
"Why would you do that?" you prompted teasingly, tilting your head to one side. "Want me to stick around?"
He shrugged, feigning innocence. "I could care less."
You couldn't help another laugh bubbling up and out of you, warmth filling your chest at being able to talk and banter with another teen your age. Even if said teen was kind of a douche. "Sure. Just admit it. You wanna know more about me."
"Well, I still don't know your name, so you could start with that," he pointed out.
"Sure," you repeated. "Get your dad to make a trading agreement with us and I'll tell you whatever you wanna know."
"Deal," he said, shifting forward, hoisting himself up on the edge of the boat, partially leaning over you, blocking out the light of the rising sun, eyes glittering with amusement as he looked down at you.
Great Mother. His attractiveness had returned with full force.
Broad chest, strong shoulders, a perfect body by the standards of your people. The dark curls, the colour and texture still so foreign to you despite all the different Na'vi you've met. The eyes, like precious gems held up to the sunlight. The water running down said broad chest in little rivulets, glistening and catching your eyes even as you tried to stop yourself.
You stared up at him for a second, wondering what in Eywa's name he was doing, before you realised he was holding out his hand to you.
You shook it.
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Christ ALMIGHTY it's gonna be another multi chapter lads. Let me know if you want to be tagged in any future chapters x
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