#*smells this while doing that hand gesture we do when we wanna take in a smell*

[sm-baby]

OKAY, BEFORE WE SEE ABLE, I WANT TO MAKE A PREDICTION!!

What if, Able is the Canon!Caine 'equivalent'? But with the twist that he used to be human aswell? He seems like an AI, but he keeps mentioning and doing odd things that don't make sense. Caine tries to find this character in the files, but can't seem to find him (almost like he isn't supposed to be here....)

.. i will not be saying anything except for the fact that I'm taking notes.

[nadvs]

watch and learn (part one)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

At first, you cut your neighbor some slack. Over freshman welcome week, you figured it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect him to be quiet.

But it’s Thursday of week two, well past quiet hours, and the bass of his music is nearly making your bed shake.

You assumed the guy you’ve heard but haven’t seen yet would settle down once classes were underway. So much for that.

You have a lecture early tomorrow. It’s past midnight and his music and loud conversations are still drumming through your wall.

You’d call the resident advisor, but you’d rather talk to him yourself so not to risk any bad blood that could form from you snitching on him. You sigh, get out of bed, and decide to finally face him.

Rafe takes another hit of his joint, leaning back in his desk chair while three of his frat buddies talk about the past week of rushing.

He just got accepted into his top choice frat and he’s elated. And if he proves himself, he’ll be able to move into the Sigma Chi house next semester.

He probably will never get used to living in such a small room compared to the mansion he grew up in, but at least the frat house will be an upgrade.

“Dude, I think someone’s knocking,” Blake says, slapping Rafe’s knee.

“Oh, shit,” Rafe laughs, high out of his mind. He pauses the music and ambles out of the circle he’s been sitting in.

When he opens the door to see a girl in pajamas looking up at him, her arms crossed and her lips pinched, he’s taken aback for a second. Damn, you’re pretty.

“Hi,” you say, failing to force a smile at the man towering over you. The smell of weed hits you instantly. “I live next door. I wanted to ask if you could please keep it down?”

He grimaces as his unseen friends jeer behind him. You notice the Greek lettering on his t-shirt. A frat boy. Of course.

“You’re in trouble, Rafe!” one of them taunts.

He props a big arm against his doorframe, his blue eyes trailing down your body.

“Were we being loud?” he teases, purposely playing dumb. He’s obviously wasted. And is giving off strong fuckboy vibes.

“I have an early class tomorrow,” you try to explain. “Can you at least keep the music off?”

“What, you don’t like it?”

“Listen… Rafe, right?” you say. He nods, his grin still so fucking smug. You tell him your name. “I’m not trying to ruin anyone’s fun, but-”

“That’s kind of what you’re doing,” Rafe interrupts. The way your face screws up when you’re pissed off is too cute for him to stop fucking with you.

“Don’t you have a frat house you can do this at?” you finally snap, gesturing to his t-shirt.

“You telling me I can’t be in my own room?” Rafe says, annoyance starting to prick at his skin.

“Not if you’re gonna keep people up,” you say.

“Turn around.”

“What?” you snap.

“I wanna know if I can see the stick up your ass from here,” he says.

His friends explode in laughter and he looks back with a wide smile.

“I fucking hate frat boys,” you mutter more to yourself than to him. Rafe brings a hand up to his chest in mock offence. “And you’re not allowed to smoke in your room,” you add.

“You gonna tell on me?” He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, actually, I might.”

A man appears behind Rafe with a charming smile.

“Okay, okay,” he drawls to you, gesturing to dap Rafe up. “We should get going anyway.”

“Nah, man, you don’t have to,” Rafe says, immediately disappointed that his fun is ending.

“It’s late,” he says. The man nods at you with a smile.

“Blake,” he introduces himself to you. “Sorry about the noise.”

“Thank you,” you say through gritted teeth, wishing Rafe had half the manners his friend does. He shuffles past you, followed by two other guys who say their goodbyes to Rafe.

“Happy?” Rafe mutters, all the playfulness from his tone now gone.

“Thrilled,” you say, turning to get back to your room.

The next afternoon, you’re on the phone with your friend, Liv, as you make your way back to your dorm room after a full day of classes.

She’s trying to convince you to come to a party at a frat house tonight. You’re exhausted after a long day, but she’s right that you need some fun.

“I can’t be out long,” you say on the phone, pushing your key into the lock. “I’m tired. And honestly, already kind of stressed out over school.”

“Maybe you’ll meet a guy who’ll take your mind off things,” Liv suggests. You snort.

“The last guy I hooked up was such a disappointment,” you tell her. You try to twist your key. It won’t budge. “I almost faked my orgasm, then was like, it’s not even worth it.”

Liv laughs.

“They should know when they suck,” she says.

You wiggle your key, your fingers starting to hurt.

“Exactly,” you say. “Plus, he wanted to try this position and… I don’t know, I felt too nervous to do it. It was just a failure all around.”

Finally, your key twists and make it into your room, clueless to the fact that Rafe heard everything.

That night, you’re at the Sigma Chi house, two drinks in, when you spot your neighbor playing beer pong across the room. Shit. You’re sure this is his frat.

You already told Liv about your encounter with Rafe, so you nudge her and point him out.

“That’s my fuckboy neighbor,” you say.

“You didn’t mention how hot he is.”

“Wait until he opens his mouth,” you tell her, earning a laugh.

Honestly, Rafe does look good. He fills out his t-shirt so well, his backwards hat pushing his hair out of his handsome face.

Rafe glances around the crowded room and catches you staring at him. Even though you irritated him the first time you spoke last night, heat fills his body once he realizes your eyes are on him.

You quickly look away.

Despite how much of a tight-ass he thinks you are, he’s glad to see you tonight. What he overheard you say on the phone a few hours ago has been weighing on his mind. And his ego.

He finishes up his game of beer pong and the alcohol rushing through his system convinces him to find you and ask you what he’s been mulling over.

“Are you lost?” a voice says behind you.

You turn to look up at Rafe, who’s ducking down so you can hear him over the music. You glance back at Liv, who raises her eyebrows and turns away to give you privacy.

“Or do you actually know how to have fun?” he asks. You sigh as you glance back at him.

“I do, without the expense of people’s sleep,” you reply, a sarcastic smile on your face. “Crazy concept, right?”

“I figured it out,” he says. “Why you’re such a tight-ass.”

“I am not a tight-ass,” you reply.

“It’s ‘cause you can’t get off. I heard you,” he says. He sees embarrassment wash over your face. You know exactly what he’s referring to. “And I’m the loud one?”

You look away, regretting that you didn’t stop to think your voice would float into his dorm room. Fuck.

“Does that actually happen?” Rafe asks. “Girls fake orgasms?”

Your eyes dart up to meet his and you scoff a chuckle.

“Yes,” you say. “What, you didn’t know that?”

Rafe shakes his head. Admittedly, he’s been wondering if any girls faked cumming with him since he overheard you. It’s kind of a blow to his ego.

“Ouch,” you laugh, regaining your confidence. “Let me guess. You thought you had a perfect track record.”

“How can you tell that a girl’s faking it?”

You take a sip of your beer and he can’t help but notice the enticing way your lips look glossed with moisture.

“Every girl’s different,” you say. “But for the most part, you can… feel it. You know… down there.”

You’re glad you’re drunk for this conversation. You doubt you could have it sober.

“How?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“I’m not helping you with this,” you say. “Especially after you were such a dick to me.”

Rafe smirks, looking down. You notice he has really cute dimples. Shit. The fuckboy is charming you.

“Let’s start over,” he suggests. “I have an idea.”

“You can have those?” you ask.

“I heard you say you were nervous trying a new position,” Rafe says, ignoring your chide. You look down in unease again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says. You look at him again, speechless over how forward he is. “We can help each other. You show me how to make a girl cum and how to know I actually did it. And I’ll let you practice whatever you want with me until you feel confident.”

You freeze for a second. Is he seriously suggesting you two fuck… to get better at fucking?

“Oh, you’ll let me?” you say, his proposal admittedly making your stomach numb with anticipation. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” Rafe says with a shrug. You realize he’s being totally and unabashedly serious. “What? Do you need time to think about it?”

You take another sip of your drink, the cold beer spilling down your throat.

He is insane. But he’s also attractive. Charming. Confident. Would it be so crazy to start hooking up with him?

You’d have the guarantee of an orgasm, without wondering if the guy you’re with cares enough about getting you there, and you’d get practice so you don’t feel as insecure next time you’re with a guy you actually like.

“I’m in, only if you promise to actually respect quiet hours from now on,” you finally say.

“Great sex isn’t a good enough deal?”

“Who’s to say it’ll be great?”

“So, I have to tiptoe around my own room,” he says, his temper flaring.

“If you consider not blasting music at night tiptoeing, then yeah,” you retort.

If Rafe wasn’t sure of it before, he is now: you’re hot when you’re pissed off.

“Fine,” he relents. He’ll probably be moving out next semester anyway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and opens a new conversation. “Text yourself so I have your number.“

You hand him your cup in exchange for his phone. You send an eggplant emoji to your number. He takes a sip of your drink and you scowl.

“Are you that selfish in bed, too?” you say.

“You can let me know,” he quips. You roll your eyes at him and take your drink, giving him his phone back. Rafe chuckles when he sees the emoji you sent yourself.

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll call you out on everything you do wrong. If you can take it.”

“Okay,” he says. “Tonight?”

Wow. He’s eager. It’s kind of thrilling that he wants you this badly.

“Maybe,” you say. “If I’m not too tired when I get home, I’ll text you.”

Rafe’s chest tightens with excitement. His hot, mouthy neighbor is actually doing this with him.

“Sure.” Rafe juts out his bottom lip, nodding, as if this conversation is completely normal. He’s so casual about it. This feels unreal.

You give him a small smile. Probably the first genuine one you’ve offered him. Okay. You can admit to yourself that you’re looking forward to hooking up with him.

You stay at the frat house for another hour, hanging out with Liv and a few other friends you made, before you make it to your dorm just before midnight.

After changing into pajamas, and the nicest set of bra and panties that you own, you text Rafe: i’m home if you want to come over.

About ten minutes later, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to see Rafe standing with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

You’re sure he knows how good he looks when you notice the outline of his length. He did this on purpose.

“Eager,” you say. “Were you already home?”

“I was quiet, huh?” he boasts, stepping into your room. He takes a second to soak in your space, eyes travelling over the way you’ve decorated.

“What the fuck? Your room’s bigger than mine,” he says.

“They’re all the same size.” You settle on your bed, glad he’s so comfortable about this, not making it awkward at all. Truthfully, the beer has worn off, and you’re kind of freaked out.

But this is what you’re doing this for. So you can stop being so nervous about sex.

“I’ll show you my room and you’ll see for yourself,” Rafe says. You watch him pace across your space to study the photos on your wall.

His eyes travel over the snapshots of you with your family and friends, your smile bright and pretty in every image.

With Rafe’s back turned to you, you take in the way his broad shoulders stretch out his white t-shirt. By the slight curve in his back, you can tell he’s not just lean, but muscular, too.

“How long are you expecting this… arrangement to go on for?” you ask.

“Until we’re both satisfied,” he says confidently, turning to meet your eyes.

“So, you’re aware you won’t be coming out of this with a girlfriend, right?” you assert.

While Rafe is attractive and charming, he’s also rude and narcissistic. You don’t want him to think you’re interested in him in that way. This isn’t a romance.

“Oh, yeah,” he huffs. “I’m not gonna be in college tied down to one chick.”

You scoff. Yup. Definitely no romance here.

“Maybe don’t call a girl a chick,” you say. “At least not to her face.”

“Right,” Rafe says with an easy laugh. He slowly steps towards you, his eyelids heavy as he looks down at you. “You have nice tits.”

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your chest in your tank-top. Rafe hardens the longer he looks at you.

“How sweet,” you say flatly.

Rafe smirks and sits down next to you, getting right to business as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm and surprisingly soft. He tastes like cinnamon toothpaste and smells like aftershave.

He’s a good kisser. But you expected as much. By his confidence and the fact that he prepositioned you the way he did, you can tell he’s experienced with girls.

You feel his hand slide up your body and squeeze your breast. You sit back, disjointing your lips.

“Slow down,” you tell him. “Do you always go right into groping a girl like this?”

“Yeah?” His brows furrow.

“Okay, some might like it,” you say. “But most want foreplay. You have to give me some time to get turned on.”

“Aren’t you already?” he asks. “We’re kissing.”

“We’ve been at it for like, a second, Rafe. Just because you’re…” You look down at the tent in his sweatpants. “Ready, it doesn’t mean I am.”

“So, what should I do?” he asks.

“Just… don’t rush,” you say.

Rafe nods and leans into kiss you again, his hand cupping your waist this time. He doesn’t usually like kissing that much, typically wanting to jump right into sex, but the way your tongue runs over his is actually sort of nice.

A few moments later, his fingers dip to pull your top off. When Rafe sees you in your bra, he swallows hard. Why does he feel like this is his first time seeing a half-naked woman?

Probably because he’s being graded, he realizes.

“Wow,” he breathes. You look down, scratching your neck. “Damn, you do get nervous.”

“What?” you say.

“When a guy says wow, take the compliment,” he states.

You shyly shake your head and pull him in for another kiss to brush past the moment. He catches on, pushing you back.

“I’m teaching you shit, too, remember?” he mutters. “Don’t be shy. You’re hot.”

“Alright,” you groan, tugging at his shirt. “Take this off.”

He smirks and obeys, hoping he at least partly got through to you.

When your eyes roam Rafe’s bare torso, your heart pounds harder.

You continue making out, and he eventually slowly unhooks your bra. He peels it off and slowly cups your breast, fondling and gently squeezing.

“Is this too hard?” he asks.

“No, it’s - it’s good,” you sigh. You remind yourself this is supposed to be instructional. “You should… um…”

“What?” he asks against your lips. “Stop being shy.”

“Play with my nipples,” you say, cheeks burning. “Some girls like that.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” He looks down at your chest and softly pinches you, then rubs his thumb back and forth. “Good.”

Rafe is entirely hard now, your praise making him ache to be inside you. But he’s here to learn. He needs to go slower.

He dips to put his mouth on your chest, his lips locking around your nipple. You let out a shaky moan and he knows he’s doing something right.

Big hands gently press against your hips to push you onto your back. You settle on your firm bed, hands roaming over his smooth back.

He shifts to give your other breast the same amount of attention, coating your nipple in his warm spit. You bite your lip, feeling your stomach tighten in arousal.

“Can I go down on you?” he rasps.

You meet his eyes. Rafe realizes just how pleased you look already. It’s really gratifying.

“Yeah,” you whisper. He eagerly pulls down your bottoms and panties in one move, losing his breath when his eyes take you in.

“Goddamn.” His voice is strained. You’re already glistening and he wants to put his mouth on you immediately.

“Go slow there, too,” you say. “Kiss my thighs first.”

“Okay,” he says, nodding urgently. It’s satisfying seeing him listen to you like this, considering he doesn’t seem to care for rules.

Your thighs are so damn soft against his mouth. He peppers kisses up your skin. It’s taking all his willpower not to start eating you out right now.

Your breaths are shallow as he leaves languid, tender kisses on you. You feel his fingers stretch your lips apart and hear him sharply inhale.

“Now?” he asks impatiently.

“Yeah. Lick everywhere,” you say, “but pay the most attention to my clit. You know where it is, right?”

“I’m not that fucking helpless,” he mutters. You can’t help but laugh.

He lowers his mouth onto you and you tremble immediately. He laps at you for a few seconds, a groan escaping his lips.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You taste really fucking good.”

“Do you always talk like that?” you ask.

“Yeah, is it okay?” Rafe says, suddenly tense.

“It’s amazing,” you admit. “Keep doing it.”

“Yeah?” he says with a smile. He points his tongue over your clit, wriggling it over your flesh.

“That’s good,” you tell him. “Make your tongue flat, too. Switch between the two.”

You feel him nod against you, avidly taking every tip.

“And suck a little,” you tell him. Rafe didn’t think he’d like being bossed around, but the way you’re telling him what feels good and making him better at eating pussy is rewarding.

He starts to suck at your clit and the way you moan tells him everything he needs to know. He sucks harder and your breath gets shaky.

Rafe is desperate to see how the inside of you feels, even if it’s just with his fingers. He shifts to slowly dip a finger in your cunt and glances up to look at you.

“Can I finger you?” he says.

“Yes,” you nod. “It’s good to ask. Start with one.”

He slowly sinks into you, stopping at his knuckle. You’re so tight.

“Shit, baby,” Rafe whispers. “I know you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good.”

Your head is spinning. You’ve never had a man talk to you like this before. This is what you’ve been missing out on, hooking up with guys who didn’t care about your pleasure? It feels unfair.

He adds a finger, curling into you and feeling you clench around him as he continues to work your clit. You look down to enjoy the sight of his head between your legs, the tips of soft dirty blonde hair tickling your skin.

It’s intoxicating, being taken care of the way you want to be.

Rafe’s jaw starts to get sore, but your noises give him the drive to keep going. Eventually, your thighs press against your ears.

“I’m gonna cum,” you mumble. “Don’t stop.” Rafe’s stomach twists with excitement, fully alert and eager to take mental notes.

Your breath stops, your muscles tense, and your walls flutter around him as you meet your peak. Sparks of pleasure fire throughout your body and you tug at the roots of his hair.

He keeps sucking and licking and pumping his fingers until you shuffle beneath him, overstimulated.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Good, that’s good.”

Rafe sits up, his lips wet with your arousal. You look happy, yet somehow kind of guilty. He makes a mental note to figure out how to make you unashamed for having a sex drive.

The way you’re panting is making him so fucking turned on that it hurts.

“I need to fuck you,” he says.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, hoping he’d say that. “Do you have something?”

He nods, pulling a condom wrapper out of his pocket. He takes his pants and boxers off at the same time and he springs out.

You never thought you’d think a cock could be perfect, but there’s no other way to describe it.

He leans over you, looking down as he lines himself up and slowly sinks into you. You watch him shut his eyes with pleasure, but when he opens them again, you look down at his body.

“So shy,” Rafe teases, his voice thick. “Make eye contact.”

You listen to him, meeting his eyes. It adds an entirely new level of pleasure and vulnerability, looking at each other while he starts to rock in and out of you.

He starts to thrust faster, revelling in the way your tits are bouncing with his force. His strokes are deep and powerful and you whimper over how nice it feels.

His balls feel tight already. He never cums this fast. There’s something about you that’s making his body react like this. But knowing you already orgasmed, he doesn’t let himself overthink it.

“Feels good?” Rafe asks with amusement in his tone. You moan in response. At least he doesn’t need to improve on this part.

He goes harder, losing his rhythm as he reaches his climax, trembling over you. The way he breathes through it is so unbelievably hot to you.

Once Rafe slows down, he collapses on top of you, his chest pressed against yours.

“How was that?” he mumbles.

“I don’t think your ego needs to get any bigger,” you say breathlessly. “But that was good.”

“Just good?”

You laugh. Okay, it was fucking mind-blowing. He doesn’t need to know that, though.

“Yup,” you say, patting his shoulder. “Let me up.”

“What - what could I have done better?” he asks, sitting up off of you, pulling out. “I listened to everything you said. I swear, I never cum that fast.”

You smirk. He’s desperate for the praise.

“Fine,” you say. “It was amazing, okay? Don’t let it get to your head, frat boy.”

It definitely gets to his head. You can tell by the way he’s smiling.

“What position did that guy want you to try? Wanna do it?” he asks. You shake your head in disbelief. He could probably go all night.

“Next time,” you say, exhausted, your muscles weak.

Rafe’s disappointed, but he doesn’t show it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Next time.”

part two

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[chariaki]

I like you!

Yuji x fem!reader

It took you a while to actually notice Yuji Itadori. Although, yes, you are close friends, you never really read into his gestures too deeply, since he is friendly to everyone.

Over the past few years, you failed to notice the way he dyes his hair only pink for the reason that you said you liked it on him, the way the same colour rises to his cheeks when you ruffle his hair and call him a "cutie pie", the way he focuses on you instead of the lesson you were teaching him, and especially the way his body flinches, ears red, and pants bulged up whenever you hug him tightly.

Nobara talked to you about Yuji when you had a sleepover at her place. The girl talk helped you confirm your rising suspicion about him. Yuji Itadori has a crush on you!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Okay! Lets get this straight:

Yuji Itadori, 18 years old, male. Just your ordinary teenager. Been friends with him for more than 10 years, friendly, sweet, funny and his most prominent characteristics are: his pink hair, his muscular build and.... his crush. on. you.

This realization made you think about him for weeks. It made you think about you and him. And what surprises you is that you didn't feel an ounce of discomfort thinking about Yuji as a possible boyfriend. You even thought of him in all sorts of ways.

A few weeks has gone by and you found it entertaining to just stare at him. Your body turned to him, eyes shamelessly focused on him. You always thought of Yuji as cute. But now...He actually looks so handsome.

You admire the way his eyes are sharply focused on reading a manga, the way his brows furrow in frustration from the plot, the way his cheek shows the bulge of his tongue. He makes a click sound. And suddenly, you're eyes fall to his arms, he wasn't even trying yet his muscles are just so evident. It's proof of his diligent hard work.

You stood up and walked to his desk, bending your body forward to to meet his face.

"Yujiiii"

You whispered. Your face so close to his that you can smell his perfume and, with his ears red, you're sure he can smell yours too. Not to mention the way his eyes momentarily looked down to your chest and back up to your face so fast, you could've missed it if you blinked!

But you didn't. You saw it and it made you want to tease him more.

"Let's go home?"

"Uhh... Yeah. Sure!"

He hurriedly packs up his things and stands up behind you with his hand carrying his backpack. When he sees that you were done with your stuff, he effortlessly slings your bag on his back. A habit he developed since he always walked home with you. Yuji didn't want your pretty body to be tired from carrying such a heavy bag.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The walk home was as usual, you, talking excitedly about your day and him looking at you, smiling. Occasionally, Yuji would also beam about his video games, monster movies and the times Megumi slapped and scolded him for doing something stupid. It was a routine day for you and so you wanted to make a difference.

"Yuuu, wanna go grab ice cream? My treat!" You beam up at him, eyes mischevious and playful.

"Okei okeii!!!"

The two of you approached your favorite ice cream truck. You and Yuji had been buying their ice creams ever since you were kids. The owner had practically watched you grow up.

"Well if it isn't my favorite lovebirds!"

"'Sup, Uncle!!" Yuji greeted. You always wondered why he called you guys that and you denied it every time. You also failed to notice that Yuji didn't mind the nickname and is even happy to hear it. And now you know why.

"Hiii, Uncleee! We'll have our usual" You greeted, turning around to find Yuji lingering behind you. His tall figure smilling down at you as his hand takes out money from his oocket and pays for the ice cream.

"Heyyyy!!! I told you I was going to pay!" You pouted at him.

He poked your cheek and bended his knees to level his face with yours. "Hehe. I got it. Besides, we can celebrate the day you didn't deny it. " He smiled and patted your head.

"Deny what?" You ask while looking at Yuji grabbing your ice creams and the receipt, walking towards the nearby table and placing your bags down. He looks at you from his seat and pats the seat next to him.

"The"Lovebirds" ....Just kidding!" He exclaims while happily biting into his ice cream.

He had ice cream on his nose.

"Hmmmm"

You say smirking. You scooted closer to him, inching your face near his face. Yuji's eyes widen, body leaning back to lengthen the space between your faces. You don't give in and leaned closer even more.

He's so adorable. A blush rises to his cheeks and ears in the same color as his hair. You loved it when he did that.

What amuses you is when he closed his eyes.

You took this opportunity to kiss his nose, licking away the ice cream.

"Mmm!! Strawberry. Heh."

Yuji slowly opened his eyes, dumbfounded.

"H-huh?! HUHHH??"

Poor boy collapsed backward, back landing on the wooden bench. Ice cream falling on the grass.

The owner laughed loudly, witnessing everything that unfolded.

"Yuji? You alright there?" You chuckled.

"Uhhhhhh.... give me a minute yn.. " He mumbled, arms covering his face while he layed still,cheast heaving up and down.

After what you assumed to be five minutes, Yuji slowly rose up, cheeks and ears still pink, a hand touching the place where you kissed him.

"Uhh....I-"

"Yuji." You smiled at him, amused at his flustered state.

"W-wait, Yn. Please let me go first."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"I like you."

Your eyes widened.

He confessed! You thought to yourself. You stayed silent, now you're the one who's flustered.

WHO wouldn't be when Yuji Itadori is looking at you with such emotion in his eyes. He's so focused on you, patiently awaiting for your response.

"You don't have to reply now of course! I just.... I just wanted you to know. I really do like you, yn. Have liked you since the first time you took me here to buy ice cream, still liked you even when you ranted about your old crush, and I'm pretty damn sure I'll continue liking or fucking loving you even if you turn me down."

He hold such intense eye contact. Determination in his eyes, in contrast to the red in his ears and the constant pink in his cheeks that gives away his embarrassment.

You rested your head on his chest, hiding your flustered face and looking away from his inteses gaze. You're sure you turned into a tomato too.

"Mm mike kyu chew"

You mumbled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat race through his uniform.

"Hm? I didn't get that, Yn." Yuji questioned, rubbing your arms on your side with his big hands then gently pulling you up to face him.

His eyes widened, lips broke into a big smile.

"Y-your all red!!" His eyes crinkled and his loud, beautiful laugh escaped his lips.

"Hmph! I LIKE YOU TOO, OKAY!"

You exclaimed. Embarrassment visible in your voice.

"You do?" Yuji beamed and leaned his face close in anticipation.

"I do." You couldn't help but smile as you squished his cheeks, your ice cream long discarded. He leaned in your touch.

"I like you more."

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

This fic is inspired by @smsm22!! 💛

[whitefeathers]

perv!butcher who gets handsy with you but of course he can, hes the leader!

mdni. DARK CONTENT WARNING, READ MY PINNED POST BEFORE CONTINUING. cw: manipulation, dubiously consensual/non con touching but reader is into it, abuse of power. Choking, somnophilia. Daddy kink. Massive daddy issues and butcher is a father figure to u in this, heavy on the taboo and age diff. <3 im down to make a part 2 to this if ppl are interested too ! w/c: 1.2k

Butcher isn't a nice man. He's ruthless, does what he wants, whenever he wants - he's definitely got some sort of conscience in there, but it's drowned out by the primary emotion that drives him. Lust. It's usually for blood, but this time, it's for you.

A pretty young thing, definitely not dumb but definitely inexperienced. Sometimes you don't know when to shut your mouth, too excitable and bubbly, too full of energy. You mean well, you do. But when Butcher already has a headache, your begging to take temp V is driving him mad.

"I'll be okay, it won't hurt me, I could just have cool powers like you, and it'll be all over the next day! It could really help, we don't know what I'd be able to do and it could be something helpful!"

You're sat next to Butcher on the deflated couch in the pawn shop basement, only the pair of you there. You're sat with your legs crossed facing him, gesturing with your words, while Butcher is sat with his legs spread wide, pinching the bridge of his nose, facing directly ahead at the TV. He sighs, turning his head to look at you.

"Fucccck no. You ain't havin' any, end of story. Give 'ers a bit of peace and quiet, will ya? Me 'ead is banging, yer yapping isn't helping."

"I'm not yapping, I'm trying to help..." You murmur, dejected. You turn to face away from Butcher, frustrated and feeling like he doesn't trust you. He watches as the dull light from the TV illuminates your face, trying so hard to look calm and collected. Butcher sees right through you. He knows you need his approval like air.

Butcher sighs again. He's a horrible, fucked up man. He's about thirty years your senior. Fuck it, he'll blame the V for how he's acting if anyone pulls him up on it. If anyone dares. He's the leader, he can do what he likes.

"Look, c'mere. Ya wanna help? Sit,"

"Sit...?" You meet his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. Butcher is unwavering, and he looks scary. His eye contact is intense, and you choose to look down at his chain and his sweater instead.

"Yeah. Sit. Didn't stutter, did I? C'mere," your gaze follows his hand (so large that it's practically a paw) as he pats his strong upper thigh. Your head and your heart race, and you stay still.

"Isn't that... um... inappropriate?" You've always seen him as a mentor, a leader, a father figure. Of course you've had some thoughts, but you've shoved them down deep enough to silence them. He's practically your dad - and old enough to be, too. This is wrong.

Like a dam breaking, all those thoughts suddenly surface. Flickers of Butcher's strong, veiny hands, his rough lips, his even rougher voice calling you a good girl. Fuck, this is bad.

"Surely is. Stop ya whinin' though and give me what I want, yeah?"

You shakily stand up, nodding. You always want to make him proud, and deep down you know you want this - whatever this is. It could be anything from a cuddle to a punch in the gut. Butcher is a live wire.

You settle yourself in his lap, hovering by putting most of your weight on your white-socked feet still planted on the ground. Up this close, Butcher is all you can smell. Heady, masculine, intense. Like testosterone, sweat, and leather. You know it should gross you out but it doesn't.

Butcher's large arm manhandling you so your back is to his chest makes you gasp. He's overpowering and rough, too strong for his own good, too arrogant and self-serving. His hand wraps around to suddenly grip your throat, feeling your pulse but not choking you. Just holding. Your heart jumps into your throat. He might actually just kill you right here.

"You're nervous. Scared I'm gonna hurt ya, sweetheart? Scared I'm gonna make ya cry?" Your eyes flutter closed, and you nod, terrified. He's whispering into your ear, a dark growl. You can feel his warm breath against your neck, smelling like cigarette smoke and mint. His other arm is around your waist, keeping you close to him. Making it so you can't get away.

"Not gonna hurt ya. You want this too," Butcher takes a deep inhale, nostils flaring and eyes fluttering shut. The V has given him an increased sense of smell, and with your legs slightly spread, he can smell exactly what you've been desperate to hide.

"Yeah, you want this too. Can smell ya dripping. This little cunt want daddy, yeah?" Butcher laughs cruelly when his words make your breath stutter and a new gush of wetness to soak your panties, intensifying the smell of pussy that is driving him mad. He takes another deep inhale, and you try to shut your legs, only for Butcher to force them back open with a heavy palm, slapping the soft jiggle of your thigh through your cargos. Mean.

"No, no. No, no, baby, nuh uh. Nope. Don't fuck me about. You're on my team, and you're mine. You want a daddy? I'll be your daddy," you shake your head no, and Butcher coos.

"No? Don't want a daddy?"

"Don' want any daddy, want you," you whisper. "'S always been you."

He groans and adjusts you in his lap so you're even closer to him, and his lips are on your neck by his fingers, just resting. You can feel him now, hard against your ass. Fuck, either he's carrying a gun in his pants, or he's huge.

"Thaaat's right. Always been me. Picked ya up off the street, ya own dad ain't know how to treat ya. I do though. Know what brats like you need," his hand on your throat tightens, cutting off the circulation to your head and making you go dizzy. His lips move up, his tongue softly licking that spot where your neck meets your jaw.

"Need an older man to look after you. Need a good stuffin' to stop you gettin' all gobby. You've been giving me such a headache, princess. Gonna fuck that mouth outta ya. Just gotta have you passed out for it, yeah?"

You struggle to breathe, panicking. Passed out? Why? Your eyes start to flutter closed and Butcher's voice starts to echo in your head, feeling both a million miles away and right inside the pulse of your clit at the same time.

"Stupid lil cunt for daddy. Ya won't be able to take me when you're awake, so I just gotta force it while you're out... sleep now, sweetheart. Shhh." he coos as your vision goes spotty, and you go limp in his lap. Once he's sure you're out cold, he lays you down on the couch, and gets to work using you just how he's always wanted.

He's a deeply fucked up man, but it's not his fault you make such a perfect daddy's girl.

[kaciidubs]

Cuteness Aggression

❣ Summary: Jeongin really brings out the cuteness aggression in people. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 915 ❣ Warnings: Poly!OT8 implied - Jeongin, Felix, and Hyunjin focused, fluff, slice of life, lighthearted teasing, slightly suggestive toward the end if you squint ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Jeongin is referred to as Innie, IN-ah, Baby Bread, and Baby, Felix is referred to as pretty boy, Hyunjin is referred to as Hyune, Reader is referred to as Noona and Sunflower, something short to break myself out of this writing slump ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“IN-ah!”

“No!”

“Baby bread!”

“Ah- Stop!”

“Our Innie!”

“Stop it! Noona!”

You sighed at the sound of various footsteps advancing toward the kitchen and effectively bursting your bubble of attempting to figure out what to make for lunch.

It wasn’t long until the once empty kitchen was filled with three men, one of whom b-lining it straight for you.

“Noona, tell them to stop!” Jeongin whined, turning you away from the cabinets and attaching himself to your back like a koala, hand wrapping around your middle for further protection.

“Innie, I would love to, but I don’t even know what’s going on.” Patting his forearm lightly, you peered at the two culprits in front of you, “What’s happening here?”

“They won’t leave me alone!”

“We’re not even doing anything,” Felix beamed, though the mischief twinkling in his eyes said otherwise, “we’re just saying how cute he is!”

Hyunjin hummed along, a teasing smirk on his lips, “Our cute little baby!”

“You’re being annoying!” Huffing, Jeongin tightened his arms around you, “Felix keeps pinching my face and Hyunjin Hyung won’t stop invading my personal space - he even sniffed me!”

“It’s not my fault you smell good, you should take it as a compliment, IN-ah.”

The youngest gasped incredulously, “Oh, really? And you trying to crush me with your body weight is a compliment too?”

“Exactly! See, you’re finally catching on!”

“You’re so-”

“Okay, okay, can we not yell at each other while I’m being used as a human shield?” Quieting your lovers, you stared at the shameless duo before you, “Can you two please give Innie his space? I’m sure he knows how much you love him without being coddled all the time.”

“But look at him!” Felix gestured to the man behind you, lips pouted and pleading, “Sunshine, he’s too cute to be left alone - you know that feeling you get when you see something so adorable you can’t help but react?”

Everything suddenly clicked, and you pressed your lips together to suppress the laugh bubbling up within you.

“So… You’re telling me this is all because of cuteness aggression?”

“Yes! You see it, too, right?!” Hyunjin’s eyes sparkled as he threw his hands up, “So it’s obviously not my fault for wanting to squeeze him until he pops!”

“I mean…” Trailing off, you caught a glimpse of Jeongin’s doughy cheek and you felt a familiar swell of adoration and couldn’t help but smirk, “You’re not wrong, Hyune.”

“Noona?!” He all but wailed, his hold on you loosening, “You’re seriously taking their side? What about me?!”

You turned in his arms with a laugh, taking his face in your hands as you cooed, “No! Of course I’m on your side, baby, but…” Giving his face a squeeze, you felt a rush of joy at his squished, adorable features, “God- You’re just too cute for your own good, Innie! Look at you - I just wanna take a bite out of you like the little mochi you are!”

Leveling you with a nonplussed stare, he accepted his fate as Felix and Hyunjin quickly joined in with coos and pets of their own, a cherry blush turning his ears and cheeks at the influx of attention.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you hummed, relinquishing the squeeze of his face for a gentle hold of his jaw, “we do it because we love you, you know that, right? If you really do hate it, we have no problem with stopping, right?”

“Of course not!” Felix tacked on easily, brushing a few strands of honey brown hair behind Jeongin’s ear.

Hyunjin nuzzled his face against the side of his head, earning a groan of disdain in the process, “You know we would stop, Innie, just let us know.”

The maknae couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips, huffing out a deep sigh, “It’s not that bad I guess… But I still don’t like the fact that you took their side, Noona.”

“Aw,” pouting up at him, you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “I’ll make it up to you-” Clocking the glimmer in his eyes, you held your finger up, “-after I figure out what to eat, okay? You guys did come in here and ruin my train of thought.”

There was a gasp of excitement before the freckled blond looked at you, “Are you ordering out? There’s a new restaurant I’ve been dying to try since last week, and their menu looks amazing - I’ll buy!”

You grinned, nodding happily, “Alright, let’s see that menu, pretty boy.”

As he brought up the restaurant on his phone - with an equally eager Hyunjin now hanging around his shoulders - you turned your attention back to the man still in your hold, his body visibly relaxed with the decrease of hands on him.

His gaze was soft, observant as it switched from his boyfriends to you, a light caress of confusion tainting his features once he caught your awe-filled eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing… You just have a real talent for being too adorable for your own good - even when you’re doing literally nothing.” Poking his nose, you shrugged lightly, “I can see why none of us can keep our hands off of you.”

Jeongin blinked at you for a moment before nodding in understanding, “Okay, I get it,” tightening his arms around your waist, a smug smirk pulled at his lips, “but when I get the same feeling from you, remember where I got it from when I’m all over you.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows, @laylasbunbunny, @dwaekkistar, @zaethefangirl

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (vi) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : y/n can only deflect her crush on matt for so long

warnings : smut, banter/cuteness, angst at the end

mickey speaks : sooooooo. yeah. enjoy! (also i imagine lucas as luka sabbat)

THIS IS PART SIX GO READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLS

“I’M kind of hungry though,” you groan as you stand in front of your open and very bare (besides two scrawny carrots and a few of andrea’s energy drinks) fridge, pouted mouth and limp wrist holding your phone to your ear.

“i’m sure you are, you always seem to be fucking hungry,” matt’s attitude laces into his comment’s comedic undertone.

“don’t be mean,” you close the fridge and begin to look through the many cabinets in your kitchen that are somehow just as bare. “how the fuck are we completely out of food?!”

“ask your fuckin- move out of the way! go! now, move!” matt’s voice cuts into a rage as his attention directs to the cars around him, who he’d debate the validity of their drivers licenses.

his loudness has you pulling your phone away from your ear to let him finish, then bring it back towards you, “hey, let’s use our inside voices when on the phone with someone…” you smile at your own joke as you dig through a never ending junk drawer for a pen.

“hmm let’s go to the grocery store more often so we’re not having our sneaky link take us to eat,” his comeback is as quick as his lane switching.

“well you sure know how to make a girl feel special,” your sarcasm spews as you begin to write out a list for a much needed grocery trip with andrea tomorrow.

“what are you hungry for?” he speaks over the chimes of his turn signal.

“i don’t know,” you mumble clearly not too focused on figuring out what you’d like to eat.

“what’re you doing right now?” he asks.

“nothing,” you say while biting your inner cheek trying to remember the specific brand of orange juice that andrea recently discovered she prefers.

“okay, i’m pulling up in like five, figure out where you wanna go.”

“please?” you question where his manners are among the frequent demands he throws at you.

“mhm, that too.” he half-asses an agreement, “bye.”

you drop your pen and respond with a quick ‘bye’ before hanging up the phone and tucking it into your purse along with your keys.

౨ৎ

matt's car smells of warm citrus and eucalyptus, in contrast to the coolness of the air he currently has blowing. you glance over to him once you're settled into the leather passenger seat, giving you a view of his soft side profile and torso covered with one of his many black hoodies (as if california temperatures weren’t currently at their highest) that fit his figure well, as he focuses on adjusting his hair in the pull down mirror.

the only light source in the car comes in the soft, off-white lighting synced to the mirror, that shines just enough for you to see his full smirk and head shake when you joke, “got someone to look good for?”

he mutters a light, “barely,” before placing the mirror back against the ceiling and changing gears smoothly. “your babysitter didn’t question you?”

you shake your head and begin to buckle your seatbelt, “no, she’s out with some coworkers for a drink. what about yours?”

“didn’t even notice i left.” he shrugs then gestures to the navigation screen that’s now dimly lit, “where do you wanna eat?” your silence speaks volumes to him, “how'd i just know you'd pull this shit? i told you to have it figured out by the time you got in the car!” he groans and looks over to you.

you try to hide a smile due to his irritance, “okay, and what if i just don’t know, matt?!” your hands turn and face the ceiling to show the genuine unsureness of your appetite.

“then, you must not be that hungry,” he shrugs.

you redirect your eyes from him to the road in front of you, “i miss when you were quietly mean, now you’re all obnoxious and loud about it.”

a smirk finds its way to matt's face as he continuously looks from you to the road until you finally look back over to him. “sorry, that was also mean. i don’t hate when you talk, even though you’re rude as fuck.”

matt laughs off the apology he wasn't even seeking from you, “jesus, i wasn't gonna cry over it.”

your stomach is weeping and begging for you to pick a place to eat at this point causing you to lean your head against the window (though you find the vibrations from the motor and awkward dips from the road make the position more uncomfortable than anything) and eye the blurs of brightly lit, primary colored signs. it becomes a little dizzying but eventually slows as matt eases on the brakes.

during the brief pause you take time recognize your surroundings more and just as matt starts to go through the intersection, a breath gets caught in your throat when you spot a small local store you remember going to with remi for lunch a few months back, “wait!”

matt slams on his brakes with a sudden look of fear in his eyes, rocking the both of you far forward then slamming you back into the seats. his face turns to frustration when you laugh a little and ask, “can we stop at that bodega right there?” while pointing out the window.

he raises a hand in view of his back windshield to apologize to the person behind him as he speeds off again and scolds you, "do you have any fucking etiquette?"

"oh wow, that’s a big word for you, matt!" you celebrate. he then takes a sharp turn into the rural parking lot, making you grip the side door as you jump along with the car.

you watch as he easily parks the car and turns off the ignition with a huff, "i doubt some convenience store snacks are gonna hold you over, but whatever."

"never doubt a small local market, this place has a bomb ass hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop and you wouldn’t even know." you defend while opening the car door.

౨ৎ

you lead matt inside while he unashamedly stares at how your hips move as you walk- your skin naturally exposed due to your low waisted lounge pants and small tank top (which makes him want to do nothing more than squeeze, lick, and kiss the area).

you greet the bored cashier the way you tend to greet anyone: as if you know them, and make your way to the back side of the store, the smell of toasted bread gaining potence in the air as you approach.

matt continues to follow as he glances around the very average looking store, with aisles of typical name-brand foods and drinks.

you stop near a bulletin board with a makeshift menu and read over each option. when matt gets closer to you, you feel the need to explain yourself as if it wasn't clear enough, "'m tryin' to figure out what i want."

he only replies with an "mhm," as he focuses on options for himself.

you both take turns separately ordering and paying for food (of course you had to tease him for making it seem as though you being hungry was such a hassle) and find a small table to sit at.

you fiddle with the table caddy, "watch. this will be the best sandwich of your life."

matt sits opposite of you, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, "better be. you had me driving crazy to get to this place."

"i said i was sorry about that!" you dramatically remind him of the apology you gave him when you two initally walked up to the store.

“order for y/n?” the same man (with a heavy east coast accent) you ordered from peeks his head out.

you send matt a smile before getting up and walking over to the window, “thank you so much, it smells amazing.” you compliment.

“‘course and, uh, we’ve got that second order ready as well if you want to take it over,” he offers.

“yeah, i’ll go ahead and take it.” you take the wrapped and acronym-labeled sandwiches in each hand, thanking him once more before beginning to walk over to the table.

“oh how sweet are you? bringin’ my sandwich to me and shit,” matt chuckles as he runs his tongue over his teeth casually.

“a ‘thank you’ would’ve been more than enough,” you take your seat again. the shuffles of wax paper wrapping and distant chimes of the bell near the entrance is the only noise surrounding both of you for your first few bites.

you pause eating to ask, “how’s your sandwich?” you direct your sandwich towards him as both of your hands are occupied in holding said sandwich.

he covers his mouth with a fist as he finishes chewing, nodding his head to give away his answer. he’s not really one to eat for flavor alone so his answer is mediocre, “yeah, it’s good. yours?” he questions while going in for another bite.

“so amazing,” you draw out and jokingly moan into your next bite.

matt’s face scrunches and he can’t wait until the food is out of his mouth to deliver his comment, “gross, just eat your food without all the effects.”

you put up your index finger so that you can swallow before replying, “you really have the nerve to say that through the shit ton of food in your mouth?”

he shrugs and gives a sarcastic smile with his cheeks bunched out and full of his sandwich.

you take a sip of your diet coke before asking, “‘kay, so what’d you do today?” you’re just generally curious and admittedly not the best at being quiet or reserved when around other people.

matt sighs, “you know…talking really takes away the point of this.”

“oh my god, answer the question. don’t be unfun, matt.”

“’m just tryin' to eat,” he laughs through his nose.

“okay, then i’ll go first but you still have to tell me about your day after,” you decide.

“fine,” matt uses a napkin to wipe his mouth a little.

“well, i woke up so fucking early today, i had to get to work by like 5:30 to start helping with an order of six cakes. luckily we prepped a lot the day before and carmen is like the best coworker to have to do that long shift with.”

“six cakes? for one order?”

“yeah, it was for a family reunion and they called about some dietary restrictions for certain cakes plus the different flavors- just shit to make our job harder. but love my job regardless, and the woman who picked them up looked so happy,” you take another sip of your drink, “but after that i went home and basically napped until you called.”

“this is the first thing you’re eating today?” he doesn’t care too much that you haven’t eaten today, rather uses it as an excuse to get you to continue eating so the you both can leave (or maybe this is just what he tells himself).

“i mean i ate some boiled eggs whenever i had down time at work, but yeah i guess.”

“and look at you, wasting your time yappin’ instead of eating. there’s truly no helping you,” he shakes his head slowly back and forth in faux disappointment.

you ignore him, “okay, your turn.” his eyebrows pinch and he takes a sip of his drink, telling you he won’t be answering if you don’t start to eat, “look! i’m eating,” you take a bite to prove yourself.

“right…uhh what did i do today?” he looks up in memory. “i tatted some guy’s face earlier, i guess that was a bit intense.”

“um, yeah that’s intense, what’d he get?!”

“the outline of peru above his cheekbone." matt circles the area on his own face, "it was actually really sentimental; he told this whole story about his mom immigrating here from peru.“

“that's so sweet. did he say why he wanted it on his face?”

matt shrugs, “he wanted to try somewhere he hasn’t before.”

you nod, “and was this your first face tat?”

“no, i’ve done a few before, just haven’t in a while.” matt leans back and scratches the back of his neck to stretch. “ever since i posted that pic of your tat i’ve been booked by all theses girls who want cartoon designs, now nick’s pissed i’m stealing his clientele since ‘it’s his specialty.’”

“well my hello kitty is precious so i can't blame them." you pause, "are you fucking these girls too?” you look at matt before you begin to giggle to yourself and take your final bite.

matt’s eyes widen and he lets a small laugh escape, “no, that kinda luck can only come so often. and how slutty would i be to hookup with all of my clients?” though he wouldn’t call you strictly a client anymore- but he doesn’t correct it since he’s unsure if the two of you are necessarily friends either.

“one: don’t hype yourself too much, two: there’s nothing wrong with being a slut, matt. you should embrace your nature.” you smile before gesturing to his last bit of sandwich and mocking, “catch up now, you’ve been doing all that talking and no eating! i'm starting to lose hope.”

౨ৎ

"matt, where the fuck are we?" you raise yourself up a little to look around. you’re parked in a large city center parking lot with few cars and dimming street lights.

“shhh, sit down.” he absentmindedly calms you, speaking in a low voice while typing on his phone. you lean back into your seat, bored enough that you opt to watching your hands rise and fall with your stomach as you breathe.

he continues tapping at the screen for the entirety of the next song, making you grow impatient and confused. is he expecting you to make the first move right now? did he bring you here to have sex? who the fuck is he texting?

you move yourself closer to him so that your elbows rest against the center console and hold your head up. "matt," you whisper.

he doesn't answer but you notice his eyebrows are furrowed and angled.

"matt," you repeat and guide your hand up his arm, firmly squeezing his shoulder.

"mm?" he looks over to you for a second, then out the windshield before his eyes fixate on his phone once more.

"what'd you bring me here for...?" your voice is laced with intentional seduction as your hand moves back down his arm to play with the slim silver bracelet hanging on the wrist of his occupied hand.

"y/n, hold on," somehow his voice is just as distracted as his eyes.

you pout, "can you, like, look at me?" you see him picking at the skin of his lip, only looking at you when your hair falls in front of his phone as you lean to press your lips to the hand you've been messing with.

he moves his hand to capture your bottom lip softly between his thumb and the side of his index finger, finally giving in with a small “yeah?”

before you get a word out a few taps hit matt��s window making both of you flinch and pull back. you’re so caught off guard and feel exposed in a way after having your face so close to matt’s lower half. you’re nervous as to why someone would randomly come to matt’s window, until matt willingly lowers it.

you move your head to the side to get a better view of the lanky man with deep caramel skin and arched dimples that pop when he speaks, “yooo, matt! what’s up?” they dap each other up through the open window.

“fucking finally,” matt sighs with a laugh.

he kisses his teeth, “look i got your shit right here. have some faith in me, brother.” he leans to grab a small bag from one of his cargo pant pockets as matt reaches for his sleek black wallet.

you try to keep yourself leveled and not ask a million questions about this whole predicament, but you’re feeling quite left out.

matt carelessly grabs the plastic bag from the guy while he continues to sift through his wallet with only one hand, before handing you the bag without even looking your way. once it’s in your hand you use the light of your phone to get a better look, noticing the unground weed in the bag. you scrunch your face and place it in your lap.

you don’t pick up on much of matt’s conversation until you’re brought up, “who’s your friend?” the guy leans further onto the car.

“no one you’d need to know,” matt shrugs, pulling out a few unscathed bills and handing them with a smile.

you squint your eyes at the insult to your existence he's implied calling you ‘no one,’ before reaching over matt with an extended hand, “hi, i’m y/n.”

he glances at matt, who’s shooting daggers into the side of your head with his eyes, then looks to you, “i’m lucas, nice to meet you.” his eyes and smile both very dopey.

“how’d you meet such a hush guy like matt?” you inquire and feel a smile forming as matt surprisingly allows you to continue this conversation.

“his brother nick does like all of my tattoos,” he pulls up his sleeve to show a collection of pieces in various styles. “next thing i know, i got three trusty customers!” he giggles and looks to matt who puts on an obvious fake smile. you turn your face to see him and feel yourself smile wider at his expense.

“yep…” matt replies.

you quickly turn back to lucas and look closer at his sleeve, “oh wow, nick is fucking talented.” matt fights from moving you back into your seat and driving off as fast as possible. “matt actually gave me one,” you lift yourself back into your seat, using matt’s thigh for support, and begin to move your shirt out of the way.

“hmm, right,” matt takes your shirt in his own hand to cover the spot once more, “we actually have somewhere to be like now.” he looks over to lucas and gives an impressively collected smile, “‘m sorry to cut it short, man. you know we gotta hang out soon.”

“for sure, i’ll have to text you," lucas nods, "and maybe i’ll see you around too, y/n. just stay pretty.” he points to you as he back away from the car. “get her home safe now, matthew.” he throws in the extra joke.

“uh huh, thanks for the smoke,” matt chuckles dryly and gives a bitter half-ass peace sign before rolling his window up. he looks over to you, with your legs sprawled in an awkward yet comfortable way and full smile on your flushed face, “fuck are you smilin’ about?”

“you brought me here for a fucking drug deal?!” you try to control the laugh in your throat.

“look you got your sandwich, i got my weed,”

“i don’t think those are com-” you mumble even though matt’s words never pause for you.

“we both were dragged somewhere, so it’s fair.” matt shrugs with pouted lips as he lifts the center console in search of the dope he’d just bought, “where’d you put it?” you then hold the bag up for him to see, but as he reaches for it you move back slightly. “you’re not funny, dude, give it.”

“come get it,” you look at the bag then over to matt’s unentertained face.

“y/n, that shit won’t work on me. we’re in my car and you don’t know the first thing about rolling.” he props his hand up expecting you to give up at this point. “stop playing.”

“why can’t you just play a little matt? you’re so worked up and mad most of the time,” your cheeks puff a little when you let out an annoyed breath.

“i wouldn’t say mad but,” matt’s eyes widen with the word in exaggeration but he knows you don’t actually want to debate over his mood so he recovers smoothly, moving his body to fully face you, “ alright, we can play, sweetheart.”

he leans closer, “how about about we play you give me my shit and then i’ll fuck you,” in reality the bag of weed is easily within snatching range, but the tension of coercing it out of you entertains matt more.

“that’s not a fun trade when you were gonna do that anyway,” the way your full lips move has matt itching to lay them against his own.

“no i wasn’t,” he whispers, and now that you’ve both now gravitated towards each other, practically at each other’s faces, you get a special view of his eyes and the way his cheeks pinch inward when he lies.

“really?”

he plays along, nodding while looking down in faux disappointment, though you can see him start to hide a giggle of some sort.

“damn. maybe i’ll have to take your phone next and get lucas to come back for me.” you sigh, and go to reach for his phone.

matt grabs your hand looks back to your devious face. “hell no, keep my friends off your roster.”

you purse your lips, “oh really? but you can do whatever you want with my-?” you’re cut off with a small kiss that grows as you reciprocate.

you’re too caught up in the proximity and heat to focus on matt’s hand that finds and takes the bag without fight. he pulls away (far too quickly) just to tease, “too easy.” he holds the bag up and stashes it in his side door. “and now you’ll have to wait until we get back to mine.”

౨ৎ

matt's beyond frustrated when he shows up to find his driveway lined with cars and general rowdiness that can be seen through the windows. you had some jokes at his expense to make as he drove off and away from his house to find the street you're currently parked on.

he's pretty silent until he eventually gets over himself due to his extreme horniness he's suppressed for longer than he expected when calling you. "well, 'm sorry my house is a bit occupied at the moment."

you face him, "no, it's fine." you unbuckle your seatbelt and move to hover over his face, placing a small kiss on his lips then pulling away, "right?"

matt raises his head to look at you, making you glance away from his eyes and down to his lips as you lick your own. and just as your tongue slips back into your mouth, matt is recapturing your lips in a needy kiss.

as the kiss deepens he takes a hold of the area where your head and neck split, holding any of your hair there with it. your tongue plays against his lips before he finally allows you to feel into his mouth a little.

you both kiss and play with each others' lips as he moves his hands to feel down your waist and tug on your waistband to urge you closer to him. you don’t listen though, instead greedily enjoying the slow movement of your lips.

matt pulls away at your disobedience and reclines his seat in one swift motion. you sigh to yourself at the loss of contact, still angled oddly over the center as you bite your bottom lip to mimic matt’s kiss.

he pats his lap and reaches for your arm, softly demanding, “c’mere.” with his physical encouragement you move your body to crawl onto him and settle easily in his lap. matt’s eyes never leave the place where your bodies meet as his hands squeeze at your hips and then your ass.

you lean down to kiss at his neck, causing your boobs to go into matt’s line of sight. he brings his hands up to give them a small squeeze before reaching into your tiny tank top to expose them fully.

you moan into his neck and lift yourself up to watch as matt swirls his tongue around your left nipple while caressing the right. “mmm,” you hum and encourage while your hands play with the hair at the nape of matt’s neck.

he lets go of one with a small pop, muttering “you’re so hot,” against the other. as your hips grind softly you can feel his dick, heavy and hard under you. he pauses his play, “you feel it, sweetheart, go ahead and do somethin’ about it.”

you moan softly and begin to grind against him. he continues to suck and fiddle with your nipples until they're sensitive and causing you to whine.

you then slowly adjust your tits back into place and crawl lower, watching your head of the wheel and watching your legs of the pedals. matt assumingly leans back and plays with the drawstring of his shorts while licking his lips, watching your every move. and finding it very fucking hot that you want to suck his dick so bad you’d sit on the rough, brushed carpet of his car.

you run your fingers up his thighs and beg with your eyes for matt to show himself to you. eventually, he purses his lips and begins to adjust his pants lower, relieving his member of anticipation.

you bite at your bottom lip subconsciously as you adjust yourself closer to him. matt keeps hold of the base, tapping himself against your closed mouth a few times, before you reveal your tongue to him. you run your mouth over him once before gathering your sticky saliva to spit softly on his tip. matt whines at the sensation and grows louder the second you take him fully into your mouth.

the way his eyebrows ruffle together and his mouth forms the most perfect ‘o’ shape is so breathtaking and drives you to continue working him in hopes that he only grows needier.

one of his hands finds the back of the headrest to grip while the other begins to move your hair for you into a harsh, makeshift ponytail. “mmm, fuck. keep goin’, baby.”

you allow all of him into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat before you pull off of him and begin to use your hand on his slick cock. “you like that?” you ask and you look so innocent and so genuinely intrigued at his answer that he can only answer in a groan. you kiss his tip in your own exchange of words with him without actually saying anything, then swirl your tongue around it as you bring him back into your wet mouth.

“yeah- just like that, mmm.” his voice is rough and strained a little as he guides your head continuously. your pace changes over the next few strokes, growing rapid and sloppier with time. matt's low moans and words of encouragement leave you feeling both desperate for his release and your own pleasure and fulfillment he'd give you afterwards.

without warning you, he takes hold of your head and forces himself fully in your mouth, unapologetically spilling his cum down your throat. once he's slumped and breathing heavily you pull off of him, a string of grotesque spit attaching you and his spent dick, and wipe your face with the back of your hand softly.

you force him to make room for you and sit up as you crawl back into his lap, the skin of your knees indented with the carpet's texture. "you're so fucking good," matt compliments in a daze while holding the bridge of his nose.

you kiss the corner of his open mouth and smirk, "too easy."

౨ৎ

"why does it keep biting me?!" chris yelps.

you and andrea never expected to own any kind of pet in recent years, due to both of your awkward schedules and mutual irresponsibility for your actions (finding it appropriate that you both learn to care for yourselves before an animal, no matter how tempting). but that was before you both found a tiny black kitten near a local bus stop that almost had you in tears.

you scooped him up easily and held him in your lap the entire drive home with andrea looking over and cooing at each red light she'd hit.

the entire day was spent googling, then bathing him, then googling if it was okay to use dish soap on a baby kitten, all while you both were clawed at and splashed the entire time.

but you and andrea have settled into cat motherhood well. recently you both went half on buying a cat tree (that is honestly way too big for your tiny living area) and decided to get your friends to help build it.

"he probably doesn't like you," nick suggests while twisting a screwdriver, legs sprawled on the floor.

"i'm sure he doesn't like anything with a name like figaro." chris deepens his voice when stating the cat's name and rolls his eyes.

"shut up, chris!" andrea calls from the kitchen.

"y/n, do you guys have any batteries?" erin asks as she opens the packaging of the cat toy she brought as a gift for figaro.

you smile at the ball of black fur at her side, clumsily punching the cardboard and plastic wrapping before nodding your head and placing your glass on the table, "yeah, which kind?"

"uh, triple a, three of them please."

you head to a closet down the hall to gather the batteries, fumbling with the top shelf a little. you don't hear when the bathroom door next to you opens and matt walks out, only recognizing when you hear his voice, "need some help?"

"no, thank you," you glance at him behind you and smile, giving a final stretch to reach the packaging. "see?" you show him the package in your hand proving he had no reason to even ask.

he smirks and stops you from closing the closet door just yet, "you look nice." you thank him and aren't surprised at what falls from his mouth next, "kinda need to paint with you soon."

"i'm sure you do," you almost laugh, due to both matt's undying horniness and the continued reference to painting.

he looks into your eyes carefully as he feels for your side and swipes his thumb over your tattoo. his mouth comes closer, right below your ear, "i'm not playin', i miss it." he leaves a kiss at the spot before he backs away and places his hands together in a prayer position, rocking them back and forth, mouthing "please."

the both of you almost laugh just before he turns to walk back to the group and remi calls for you to bring her a drink on your way back.

only when you're back in the living room your smile, matt once put on your face, drops as your eyes immediately catch erin and matt talking, her leg leaning far onto his as he reads the instructions and makes dry jokes about the toy she'd bought figaro.

you dont interrupt, placing the batteries near erin and taking a seat next to remi. you don't let your emotions manifest in your actions, even if you're starting to feel it a little extra when matt manages to remind you that you really are nothing but a nice fuck to him.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper @deadxrx @breeloveschris @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @hearts4chris @starrysturniolo @blissfulbellss @aoxash @st7rnioioss @blondiesjailer @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @thinkingabkinkyshit101 @tcvazq @novasturniolo03

[superblysubpar]

<- part four | part six -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Steve and you are working late.

the song: Cinema by Harry Styles

2,236 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of injury/blood | my blog is 18+

AN: I cannot believe there’s only four chapters left to share of this! Thanks for being here and your continued support of this story 💛Also, no hate to the peaches smelling community, I love that smell just as much as Steve Harrington, just for the purposes of this fic we hate it, of course.

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  “Yeah? Well, you’d know all about stupid, Harrington.”

  And then you pushed off, the call of your name drowned out by the wind rushing past your ears. 

  It was quick, you blinked and you were already halfway down, stomach swooping as you dropped lower and lower too fast, the gravel no longer a looming, far off thing, but almost right in front of you. Some part of you registered the shout of your name, still sounding close, which would be impossible, unless-

  His bike was next to yours, his cheeks pink as you risked a glance over and shouted, “What the hell are you-”

  Steve swore, said your name, and then you both hit gravel. Rocks and dirt kicked up and hit your bare legs like little knives slicing through your skin that made you yelp. Your handle bars shook, your grip loosening against your will and that was all it took for the destroyer to take you out. 

  Something stung, something snapped, something really, really hurt, and you were blinking up at the bright blue, cloudless Summer sky, breathing hard as hot tears started to pour out over your cheeks. 

  “St-Steve,” you hiccupped, trying to hold in the real tears that threatened to make you start sobbing and the gravel next to you crunched as he scrambled over and you gasped for a deeper breath, “I…I think I…my ankle hurts.”

  His voice was strained, heated, and tight, “I told you, look, now you’re hurt and…” he stopped though, seeing the tears on your cheeks and how your eyes went wide when they looked up at him. Bright red, and matting his hair down against his skin, a big gash on Steve’s forehead was bleeding. 

  “What?” He blinked at you.

  Your mouth fell open, gesturing to it, “Steve, you don’t feel that? Are you okay?”

  He pressed his fingers to his forehead and winced and your body filled with rage, more tears spilling out of you as you yelled. 

  “Why’d you come after me!”

  Steve blinked at your volume, his lips pulling down in a hard frown as his own voice raised. 

  “You were gonna get hurt so I-”

  “What, you had to get hurt too then?”

  Steve shook his head, looking away from you and gingerly reaching out to prop your leg up on his thigh, bloody knuckles and shredded skin on his palms as he curled his fingers around your calf. He looked up the hill to make sure someone was getting help. He laughed, looking back at you with a cold gaze. 

  “Are you seriously making this a competition, right now? While your ankle is sprained or worse and my head is bleeding? Seriously?”

  “Well, why the hell else would you come after me? You just couldn’t let me be the winner, right Harrington? Couldn’t let the stupid girl show you up in front of all your friends, huh?”

  Steve blinked at you, gaze roaming over your face before he shook his head. 

  “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

  Hawkins, Indiana - Friday

  Eddie sits across from you in silence, brown eyes blinking rapidly.

  “How are we doing over here?” The waitress asks, refilling your coffee mugs, eying the silent boy.

  “Oh we’re fine. He’s just processing something, can I get a slice of the lemon pie?”

  “Su-“

  “You - can you have what?” Eddie asks, shocked. He waves his hands in the air, his head shakes from side to side, dark brown waves whipping over his face as he loudly declares with a broad gesture of his hands, “Nope. No. You did not share a milkshake with Steve Harrington!”

  “Wanna say it a little louder, I think there’s a few people over in Chicago who only got ever other word!” You hiss at him, leaning forward.

  Eddie laughs, scoffs, into his coffee mug but sets it down before he can even take a sip. He narrows his eyes at you and leans on his folded arms on the table. “Sweetheart, I was sort of joking last night. I thought this would be funny, maybe you’d come around to seeing he’s not as much of an asshole as you’ve convinced yourself he is, but overall, I was gonna sit back and enjoy the show of you two going at it like you always do. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with the guy and make googly eyes and play footsie at the diner!”

  “First of all,” you growl, but then smile as the waitress drops off the pie. You wait till she’s out of ear shot to continue, “The only reason I was at this diner, with Steve, was because of you-“

  “Details,” he waves you off, sipping his coffee with an eye roll.

  “-And I’m not in love with him. I…” you trail off, fork stabbing the pie as you force out, “I hate him.”

  “Okay,” Eddie nods, pursing his lips and squinting his eyes, sarcasm dripping from the word. 

  “I do!” You shout, then glance around and lower your voice. “I do. I hate him. I hate how he flirts with anything that giggles and smells like peaches. I hate how he drums on the counter when he has a song stuck in his head and whistles while he restocks the shelves. I hate how he always manages to have some sort of food on his chin or cheek or lips. I hate that he’s a cocky,” you cut a huge chunk of the pie with the side of your fork as you emphasize, “Stubborn,” you stab the bite, “Winning obsessed, thinks he’s never wrong, jerk.”

  Your eyes close around the bite of the pie, tart lemon and sweet crust on your tongue hard to swallow because he’s right.

  It’s good.

  And as the sour and sweet dessert rolls over your tastebuds, you know you don’t hate him. You don’t hate how he flirts, you hate that it’s with anyone but you. You don’t hate that he drums or whistles, you hate that you don’t always know the song, and it has you wondering what he listens to - or worse, you do know the song, and of course you like it. You hate that when he gets food on his face, you just want to lick it off. You hate that because he’s just as stubborn and winning obsessed as you, you always have someone to challenge you - to make you try harder, do better. 

  Your eyes open to find Eddie staring at you with raised eyebrows and folded hands.

  “How’s that taste of reality pie going over?”

  You groan, hands over your eyes as you speak softly, “I don’t want to like him, Eddie. I don’t. I can’t.”

  “You do,” Eddie corrects just as softly. He pulls at one of your hands, tugging it off of your face so he can look you in the eyes as he asks, “Why can’t you like him? A real reason this time.”

  Your fork picks at the pie crust, lip worried between your teeth as you think of all the reasons you don’t like Steve.

  There aren’t many - not real reasons at least. 

  Eddie sighs, “Look,” he waves his hands in front of him, “I’m not saying you’ve created this personal vendetta against a guy who was twelve and didn’t want to lose face in front of his friends, but,” he leans forward and shrugs, “Steve Harrington is not a twelve year old idiot anymore. And what’s he actually done that’s been so bad?”

  He lets his words sink in and he taps the table after a minute, joking, “Just don’t sleep with the guy till Sunday, for me, please?”

  But that’s it, isn’t it? 

  As Eddie heads over to the counter to pay, the reminder of the bet makes the lemon in your stomach sour, any sweetness overpowered.  

  Maybe it was all just a game to Steve still. Maybe your walls had been genuinely crumbling, but maybe that was just because Steve Harrington had expert precision on delivering his blows to it. 

  You haven’t looked him in the eye the entire shift. 

  It was bad enough, that when you got dropped off by Eddie, you hopped out of his van wearing a cherry red sundress and only gave a short smile to him when he said hi. A ‘fine’ when he asked how your head was. 

  You’d nodded as you slipped the green vest over your dress, intently listening while Robin filled you in on everything the pair accomplished all morning. 

  He worked harder than he has ever for Keith, so you and him wouldn’t have much to do other than deal with the late night shipment arriving. 

  But you found things to do. 

  The front window displays were cleaned, windows thoroughly scrubbed, then reset. The dollar rental bin reorganized, new movies added to fill the gaps. You dusted shelves, you filed paperwork that had already been filed. And every time he tried to ask you a question, to talk, you gave bare minimum answers, keeping your eyes off of him.

  Maybe, last night, you were only wearing his sweatshirt because it was the first thing you saw, a coincidence. Maybe, you were awake when he kissed your cheek, and you really didn’t like it. Maybe…

  Maybe he’s read this entire week completely wrong. 

  Maybe you’re really never going to give him a chance. 

  He swallows, restocking candy, fingers lingering on the M&M’s, desperate for comfort food, to over analyze and annoy Robin about this all night and make her tell him it’s fine. Plenty of fish in the sea. Just keep being yourself. 

  Steve grabs the phone and looks over at you walking down the horror aisle, checking things on a clipboard he’s already checked. 

  “Hey,” he calls out.

  You ignore him.

  He huffs as he leans onto the counter, cradling the phone between his shoulder and ear, watching you as he loudly says, “Yeah, hi, this is Steve Harrington. I’m calling in regards to my manager, maybe you know her?”

  You look up at him for the first time the entire shift, frowning. He keeps going.

  “Yeah, she seems to not have come into work today? This girl who won’t look me in the eyes and barely speaks to me has replaced her and I’d do anything to get the real her back, even if she’s yelling at me about her precious Red Vines.”

  You roll your eyes and walk past the counter, into the back room. 

  Steve frowns at the open door, slamming the phone down as he does. He stomps into the semi-office-semi-break room to find you starting to run the coffee pot through a cleaning cycle.

  “That’s it!” He stands with his hands on his hips as your shoulders jump. “What did I do this time?”

  “What?” You spin to face him, crossing your arms over your dress, which only serves to torture him with the way it emphasizes the low cut of it.  

  “What do you mean what? You know what I’m talking about! You won’t look me in the eye, you won’t talk to me! Baby, what could I have possibly done in the time you were sleeping or before you got here to upset you?”

  “I-“

  Steve steps closer to you, running a hand through his hair, before talking loudly with his hand hitting his palm to emphasize each point, “I worked my ass off all morning to impress you, like an idiot! I-I thought, last night…” He waves his hands around, shaking the thought away as he continues to get closer, to only speak louder, “I deserve the cold shoulder most days, I get it, you hate me, for whatever reason, but after last night, I’d like to think that-“

  “What you deserve, is nothing,” you scoff, taking your own step closer, skin too warm in the badly ventilated back room, skin already sticky with sweat. 

  “Excuse me?” He asks, incredulous. 

  It’s too hot back here. Your chest heaves, he watches a bead of sweat travel down your throat. 

  “You don’t deserve anything just because you did your job, congratulations by the way, on being a normal, functioning human being,” you add sarcastically before continuing, “And you especially don’t deserve anything because you were a little worried about me last night, Harrington!”

  “A little? A little?! Honey, I’ve never been more scared in my life!” He shouts, hands gesturing to your forehead while you have the nerve to scowl harder at his words.

  “Oh, I’m sure, Steve, that a cut to my forehead is the most scared you’ve ever been. It has nothing to do with the big three hundred dollar question hanging in the air does it?!”

  Your bodies are close together, both of you glaring at each other as your voices only get louder. There’s a buzz in the room, a hum, like your bodies are charged, ready to strike. 

  “The bet?! That’s what you’re upset about? When are you going to get it in your stubborn-“

  “I’m not stubborn! You’re stubborn!” 

  Steve scoffs, eyes looking at your lips as the tips of his shoes touch yours, “Seriously? You’re unbelievable, I…I…” 

  “I hate you!” You shove at his chest, blinking rapidly at how close his nose is to yours. 

  He yells, not that angry, “I despise you!”

  “I detes-“

  His lips collide with yours, swallowing the words you don’t really mean. 

  Steve Harrington is kissing you.

  And you’re kissing him back. 

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[forusomimiya]

"Rin… I can't m-" your words are forgotten by another sloppy kiss, so you let your thoughts slip away and become drunk with pleasure at his touch and his groans in your mouth. He desperately searches for your tongue, and when he finds it, it's too late to free yourself, you can only let him catch you again and again.

You open your eyes to meet his, which were already looking at you from before. Impossible for him not to admire your gestures as he kisses you. Warm, commanding golden gaze, which causes an electric sensation throughout your body, a shudder in the way he kisses you, rebellious, his hands delicately caressing your body, and with the grip of one of them on your chin, in his direction to take you easily. Your mind slips away when you suddenly feel other lips trailing down your neck.

Then you remember it, and your body ceases to be yours to give yourself to another.

"Hmmm she smells sooo good…" Osamu inhales your perfume, blindly undoing the buttons of your shirt to make his way to your tits, which he soon pulls out of your bra to squeeze, massage and flatter through moans that crash into your neck.

"You can pinch them…she likes it, don't you bunny?" Embarrassment takes over you and you hide in Suna's neck. You don't want to look because you know everything will get worse if you do, but fuck, they are the ones provoking you to do it.

Osamu is quick to obey Suna and test you, so you just limit yourself to giving him more access to touch, moving closer to him, silently urging him to take possession of your nipples.

"Both… p-please touch me both, more…" You don't see it, but you don't need to either to guess that your pleas have caused both men to exchange glances with each other, causing the hands of the man behind you to move down your hips until he reach the fold of your skirt and then lift it up, while those that were busy on your tits, move to under the thin garment to grab your panties and slowly pull them down to your ankles, perfectly following the intentions of the dark-haired man with a fox-like gaze.

You bite your lip in embarrassment as you imagine what Osamu would think if he touched you and found out how damn wet you are right now. He'd appreciate it, of course but, what would come after that?

"Do you want us both baby?" Suna knows the answer, but he is like that, irritating to a certain extent. He likes to expose you to your own desires in a manipulative way. He likes to be in control, and when he's in control, you have no choice but to nod quickly without a word, because that's just the way it is, you want them so fucking bad. Now.

"We wanna hear it, honey. Use your words" Osamu commands, kissing your neck again. Suna's hands have begun to give access to Osamu's touch on your belly, running his fingers across your abdomen, past your hip and down to your thigh, which he caresses several times, enjoying the softness of your skin before moving up the inside of it.

"Y-yes… yes please, I need you, I need you guys… please" your breath hitches with every touch Osamu leaves between your legs and every little nibble on your neck, though Suna hasn't been sparing touching you either.

You didn't notice but, one of his hands left the grip of your skirt to take two fingers into his mouth and lick them before returning down, this time directly to your pussy, which was still dripping, taking advantage of your lubrication to open your labia and welcome Osamu's thick fingers, delicately and sweetly pampering your entrance.

There was no difference in sensation between his saliva and your cum but damn, your clit was starting to throb and your legs wouldn't last long firm.

"Alright bunny, we'll be nice with you…"

•

•

•

•

•

A.N.: Too long for my taste for not to make a sequel but fuck, I swear to gods I'll do it, and it will end with another fuCKING SUNAOSA 3SOME 🤤🤤 because when I write about them, I'm mentally unstable and I like it 🥴

[hotxcheeto]

hi nevy! could u do a chloe X fem!reader but they have a secret relationship? the reader’s friends (victoria, nathan, basically the whole vortex) don’t like chloe at all. meaning the reader would have to sneak out at night to go see chloe. & if ur willing, could u add some angsty smut since chloe really doesn’t wanna be kept a secret anymore? thank u in advance

━ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, angst, smut, fluff sprinkled throughout, teasing, v fingering ( r! receiving ), kissing, talk of cheating ( no actual cheating ), mean names ( nate and chloe don't like each other )

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - Damn this sucks

REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD! ITS APPRECIATED!

Your dorm room was almost silent, almost.

"I just don't get why you hang out with that weirdo." Victoria said, fixing her eye makeup while sitting at the vanity you had in your room. "Because she's my friend, Vic, just like you are."

Victoria huffed, but nodded nonetheless, looking at you in the reflection as you laid staring at your ceiling. Your mouth picking up where it had first left off,

"And she's not weird. A handful? Yes. Weird? She leaves that part to me." Victoria chuckled at your joke, standing up and walking over to your bed, crossing her arms as she glanced down at you.

"Whatever, I'm just glad you didn't fall for that puppy love crush she had on you. What a lame gimmick." You hummed, feeling the bed dip as she sat down, your door opening at almost the exact same time.

"I thought it was cute." You muttered, messing with a ring on your finger that the topic of conversation herself had gifted you. "What's cute?" Nathan's voice interrupted, the door then shutting.

"Nothing." Victoria stared at you for a moment as you spoke, her eyes then turning to Nathan. "Where the fuck have you been?" He scoffed, sitting beside your head. "What are you? My dad?"

He pulled out something from his pocket that you couldn't see, instead you focused on the way he smelled like old cologne and weed. Victoria's nails tickling your calf as she waited for him to light the joint.

"She's just worried, Nate." He grunted inaudible in response, taking a hit of the blunt before passing it to Victoria. "She should be worried about you. I seen you hanging with that punk ass blue haired bitch, again."

He dragged out his last word, glancing down at you while you only rolled your eyes. Looking away and towards your photo wall, which include said punk ass in a selfie you had made her take with you just a few days before.

"You don't know her." He grabbed the joint from Victoria's perfectly manicured fingers, "You'd be fucking surprised, Y/n/n." "She's done nothing you haven't"

Victoria watched you both go back and forth for a moment, leaning against your headboard. Smoke slowly swirling from her lips

"Whatever, don't come crying to me when she fucks you over." Giggling, you finally sat up, gesturing for the joint. "Sure Natie."

"Aw, Natie, we both know you're soft and squishy inside." Victoria commented, the boy glaring you both down as laughter filled the dorm. "Shut the fuck up, for the love of God."

"Why can't you hang out Saturday again?"

"I have a-"

"Vortex club party, right."

Letting out a sigh, your head teetered to the left to look at her in the driver's side seat. Hand gripping her steering wheel while the other rested on your thigh, tapping along to the beat on the radio.

"Chlo, we can hang out Friday and Sunday. Promise." Your blue haired girlfriend turned her head, taking her eyes off the road to give you a glare. "Why can't I come?"

Taking a deep inhale, Chloe liked watching you squirm at the question. Laying your cheek against your knuckles while watching the trees pass by.

"You know they don't like you, I'm still warming them up. Doesn't help you bought drugs off Nate and then threatened him-" She laughed which cut you off, her grip becoming tighter. "Right, my fault he's a pretentious, rich, dickhead."

"Chloe, he is not that bad once you realize why he acts how he is." The truck then whipped into the driveway of your house, coming to a stop as she turned to look at you. "Right."

"I didn't judge you based on how you acted. I knew there was a reason you did." With that you opened the door and got out, leaving her sitting there in silence while trying to come up with a response.

Though you thought she was going to leave, like planned, the sound of the driver side door opening and closing said otherwise.

"Damn, don't let the door hit me." She smiled only when you did, following after you and into your house. Close behind while observing you set down your belongings on your kitchen counter.

"I promise Chlo, I will tell them about you when the time is right." The inside of her cheek sucked in, and you could tell she was frustrated. But she didn't stop listening.

"I just want a better relationship between you and them before I tell them about us. They worry about me." She hummed but didn't say anything, the wordlessness overly abnormal.

"I worry about you too, but sure, Victoria's probably single I mean I'm sure she'd love to-" "Chloe Elizabeth Price, that is not what I mean and you know it."

Her mouth shut as she stared, her head cocked to the side while that stupid expression pointed at you.

"Max worries about you. I'm not accusing you of wanting her or vice versa, am I?" With her head thrown back, she groaned, following you to your room. "Babe, I'm sorry." You opened your door, walking towards your bed. "I know. I am too, I'm just trying to keep the peace between people I really care about."

Chloe watched as you began to change into your loungewear, talking as you tossed your shirt away.

"Nate and Vic are coming around. I just need a little more time."

You turned around at her unresponsiveness, noticing her leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.

"What?" She shook her head, "Nothing. Just admiring the view. You're hot when you're worked up." You stood now in only your bra and whatever bottoms you chose that morning, placing your hands on your hips.

"Is that so?" "Yeah, actually." Humming and nodding your head, you turned away from her. Unclipping the garment and tossing it away with the rest of your clothes from the day.

"You can't distract me by flirting Chloe."

Quickly you stripped yourself of your lower clothing, stepping out at the same time two cold hands landed on your belly.

"Chloe!" Her laughter was audible from her place in the crook of your neck, "You should just tell them already, no matter what they're gonna be mad." "You know why I can't do that. Nate would flip his shit, since y'know, you threatened him."

"Who cares what that asshole thinks about me." You pulled away from her, putting a shirt over your head and turning around. "I do, because he's one of my best friends."

She could tell that once again, she'd upset you. Rolling her eyes and falling onto your bed while watching you search for a pair of shorts.

"And I'm your secret hookup, color me stoked, hotstuff." You turned, practically fuming at this point, slamming your drawer shut in the process. Balling up your shorts in your hand just out of frustration.

"Fuck you, Chloe."

Her stare wasn't on your pissed off face, though, when you walked over to her. She was watching how your hips swayed instead, your bare skin being kissed by the yellow glow of your lamp.

"You know that's not true." She let out a strained laugh, snatching the shorts from your hold. "Do I?" Chloe asked.

"Don't start with that." Chloe smiled at that, or smirked, you didn't notice either because you were trying to get your bottoms back.

"I think I will."

Her cold hand landed on thigh, pushing you forward and tumbling into her lap. Her shoulders became a support beam as you tried not to fall against her.

"We're like Romeo and Juliet." You stated, trying to lighten the mood and pretend you didn't want to pluck her eyes from her head.

"Only Juliet won't tell her evil fucked up family because they don't like that Romeo doesn't suck the Vortex Club's dick." Chloe replied, her fingers slipping between your thighs making you shiver.

And as she inched closer, the more and more you wanted to press your lower half downward to meet her touch. A light throbbing pain beginning to envelop the area between your legs.

"Chloe-" "I want you to tell them." The pad of her finger brushed over your clit, a tiny little gasp escaping your lips. "I can't yet..." She laughed. "Who the fuck said that?"

You opened your mouth to reply but nothing came out. Her hand gathered your wetness while slowly beginning to circle your little bundle of nerves.

"That's what I thought." You glanced down, gripping her forearm as she played with you. Toying with your needy entrance while enjoying the tiny twitches your face made.

Her tattooed arm moving back and forth just enough to make you want more.

"You're such a dick." You mumbled, "Says the one keeping me a secret." You wanted to complain, you really did, but not a word came out. "I don't give a shit whether or not I meet Nathan Bitchscott's standards. But apparently you do."

"No- no I don't Chloe-"

It wasn't just you she was working up now, it was herself as well. Chloe's jaw clenching in aggravation at her own thoughts, but that stupid smile stuck.

And soon it grew wider when two of her fingers plunged inside of your cunt, a much louder sound admitting into the air. You thanked everything that no one was home. Helplessly listening to the wet sounds of her moving in and out at an agonizingly moderate pace.

"Then tell them, because I'm sick of waiting." Her other hand snaked up towards the back of your head. Pushing you towards her mouth to catch you in a kiss. Her lips tasted like cigarettes and the soda you'd given her earlier in the day.

"Unless you're embarrassed? You embarrassed of me, hotstuff?"

She chuckled as you shook your head, a pout on your lips as she kissed you again. Her long fingers reached each and every little spot that made you hum against her open mouth.

"Faster, please.." And like you commanded, her hand sped up. Your body practically locking up against hers, your thighs shaking to hold the rest of you from toppling your girlfriend.

And closer and closer you inched towards your high. Beginning to sweat and pant, holding her, pleading silently, asking for release.

"Come on..." You kissed her once more, your legs giving out as your weight fell against Chloe. Her fingers still moving in and out, your hips humping against her hand which soon allowed a third finger inside.

Her mouth then got close to your ear. Her warm breath tickling your skin as she fucked into you. The pads of her fingers running up and down your walls.

"You tell them, or I take my hand away. How's that fucking idea?"

The noise you made sounded unholy, thighs clamping around her hand.

"I will, I will I promise, please Chloe- fuck." You whined the last word, her digits running along your special spot again and again as you stared into her eyes. "I will please, please let me cum."

Her other hand gripped the inside of your thigh, pulling them apart once again.

"Promise?" She watched your head move up and down quickly as you agreed, "I promise, Chlo, I promise." You whimpered, riding her hand as you tried your hardest to keep yourself close, despite her slowing.

Always the tease.

"Yeah?" Again you nodded over and over until she finally sped up, fucking into you at an unruly pace. Her palm hitting against your clit just right to the point of you crying out into the crook of her neck.

"M'close Chlo- please..."

"Fuck just- let go babe."

And you did, as the coil grew tighter and tighter, her neck vibrated as you moaned. Shaking as your hips sputtered against her knuckles. Pulling away just to kiss her lips, her throat swallowing up your sounds.

"M'sorry.." You muttered against her lips as you pulled back, your hand still holding her wrist that was between your thighs.

"You're gonna tell them, right?"

"Mhm." You nod, earning a sweet smile from your girlfriend.

"Thanks hot stuff."

[bad268]

Backpack (Jax Teller X Reader)

Fandom: Sons of Anarchy (Yes reqs are open for SoA)

Requested: Day 1 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!

Warnings: none.

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 547

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Writing Inktober 2024 Materlist

~~(^Pinterest)

“Jax, would you ever let me be your backpack?” You asked as you were sitting in Jax’s backroom of the clubhouse. He had just attended a meeting with the boys, and since you couldn’t stand the smell of oil anymore of the day, you retreated into the back of the house. “I’ve never really seen the other guys and gals ride the backs, so I didn’t know if it was an unspoken rule or something.”

“You’d want to? I didn’t think you wanted to,” Jax commented as he took off his vest and laid down on the bed next to you. You rolled over to rest your head against his chest, feeling the weight of the day melt away. “Have you even ridden a bike before?”

“What do you mean? I work with bikes every day?” You asked confused. “And, of course, I have. Why else would I know almost everything about bike maintenance?”

“Exactly, you work with them. Didn’t think you liked going on rides,” Jax replied simply as he propped his head up to look at you. You also pulled back to sit up while Jax moved to lean against the wall behind the bed. “Do you actually wanna go? Didn’t you say you were scared of bikes?” “Jax, I used to ride a bike. I used to have a 2001 Deuce Softail,” You deadpanned with a smirk. “I haven't driven one since I crashed before moving to Charming. I want to get back on one. I just never knew when.”

“We can go now,” Jax offered, already moving to get his vest back on a a couple of things he had taken out of his pockets before the meeting. He threw an arm over your shoulder after you stood up, and he led you through the clubhouse and toward his bike. “You can be my backpack for now, and eventually, we can get you back on a bike. I’ll see what I can do about finding a 2001 Deuce Softail for you. Now, put the helmet on.”

“What are you gonna wear?” You asked as you slowly took the protective device from him, but you completely forgot how to adjust the straps. “Help me?”

“Come here,” He chuckled, taking the helmet back before putting it on your head and tightening the straps to fit you better. “I have an extra at the house. I’ll just start having both on me in case you wanna backpack.”

“Assume I always wanna backpack for you,” You joked as you leaned into his body and kissed him before pulling back when a few of the boys started making wolf whistles at you two. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Climb on,” He held out his hand after he got on the bike and gestured for you to get on behind him. You eagerly grabbed his hand and got comfortable behind him before wrapping your arms around his waist. “I have two rules. Don’t say go faster, and don’t say race ‘em. Got it?”

“I think Chibs is challenging us to a race,” You teased, even though Chibs had left hours ago. “I think we should race him!”

“You’re making a deal with the devil,” Jax muttered, but that didn't stop him from smiling and revving his bike. “Hold on.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[bendycxmet]

Hi! How are you? I hope you are doing well <3 I binge-read all of you trigun fics and i loved them, so i wanted to request something too!

How about a Vash x reader where the reader sleeps on him? Vash is listening to them ramble about something and then boom, they fall asleep on him bc hes warm. <3

MY FIRST ASK! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY THIS MADE ME FOR THE ENTIRE DAY!

i am doing well! thank you for your support! <33

i usually take forever to write a piece, but ur ask inspired me and had me thinking all day on how to go about this. so hope you enjoy this! thank you for the request!

Sweet Dreams

Exiting the bathroom, freshly washed and donning one of Vash’s shirts, you throw your towel over your head, continuing to dry off your head while you peered out into the room. Vash lounged on the motel bed, arms thrown behind him to support his head, lean legs sprawled out and taking up the entire mattress. He was whistling a tune you didn’t recognize, one eye closed while the other surveilled you in the opening of the steaming door. 

“Ya sure you didn’t wanna take a shower? There’s still some hot water left,” you offered.

“Nah, got too comfy waiting here for you. I’ll take one in the morning.” 

He closed his other eye, humming the tune now. He did look comfy. A little too comfy. With his eyes closed, he didn’t see the mischievous glimmer in your eye. The pattering of your feet was his only warning as you dove for him, body landing atop his, an ‘oof!’ sounding from him as your body weight collapsed on his chest. You were cackling at the noise he made, wrapping your arms around his waist as his fingers tickled your sides.

“Not fair! You attacked a defenseless man!”

“Getting comfortable without me, handsome? Ay! Stop it!-” 

His fingers didn’t stop their wriggling assault, only ending when you began to retaliate. 

“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He coughed a laugh out. “Mm, you smell nice. I haven’t smelled this soap before. Where’d you get it?” He twirled a wet piece of hair between his fingers.

“Oh I didn’t tell you! I met this vendor at the market earlier! While you were off looking for your donuts, the smell of the loveliest lavender drew me in.”

Vash hummed along to your story, indicating that his attention was still 100% on you as he played with your hair. He breathed in the calming scent on your skin and hair, allowing it to sway him to sleep slowly. You rambled on and on about how the vendor made the soap, the techniques and oils she used to bring out the herb. 

“But I got her card so we can go back and get you a soap! I do love how you smell Vash, it’s almost like you have a sort of gene that prevents you from smelling bad.” You turned your nose further into his shirt, inhaling the raw smell of him–sunshine with notes of something earthy…petrichor, or something along those lines. It grounded you every time. “But geez, would it kill you to wash your laundry sometimes?! You stink!” you lied, teasing a finger into his chest.

He yelped, abruptly awoken by your harsh jabbing. He grabbed your finger, bringing it up to kiss it, splaying your hand open with his own, observing the size difference. 

“We can do a laundry day tomorrow. I saw the laundromat wasn’t too far off from us, so we can easily carry our loads there.” He sighed, a content smile plastered on his face at the domesticity you two indulged in. He entwined your fingers, bringing it to the side of his face. “That reminds me! I got us donuts for the morning! You should’ve seen the options, I mean. I was in heaven, Mayfly. Powdered, glazed, cake-”

He let your hand go as he gestured in the air, passionate about the change in subject.

It was Vash’s turn to ramble. And once he started on his favorite topic–donuts–there was no stopping him. The deep timbre of his voice held some power. His voice always became deeper late into the night, hinting that he was getting tired; but it seemed to lower your heart rate, lower your defenses and diminish the adrenaline you had from a busy day. The warmth of the day seemed to never leave him, his body heat encompassing the parts of you that touched him. You tucked your legs closer to his body as the coldness of the desert night reached for your feet. 

One of his arms was wrapped around you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. The other was busy with your arm on the opposite side, fingers lightly grazing up and down. The security you felt in his presence never failed to put you to sleep. 

You hummed one last time, eyes softly closing at his praise for a certain jelly doughnut. You promised in your head that you were only shutting them for a minute. What lies you told yourself.

“But I got your favorite! It might have a bite in it, but I saved the majority of it for you! I know you’ll like it, because I know you, hehe…um. Mayfly?” 

Your soft snores alerted him that you stopped paying attention to his tales of the day. He peered down his nose at you, love clearly painted into his features. Your eyelashes were long from this angle, gently laid out on your sun-kissed skin. Your lips were parted, soft breaths felt on his chest as you breathed in his scent on each inhale and exhaled the minty paste from your nighttime routine. He’s told you plenty of times before, but if only you knew how beautiful you looked in his eyes. 

He felt goosebumps rise on your skin from the chill in the air. He reached down to grab the comforter, pulling it up to your shoulders. You shifted slightly, stilling in the creases of his warm neck that was now heating your cold nose. He giggled at the temperature difference, arms also wrapping around your waist as he settled further into the sheets.

He had to admit, his exaggerated noise and fuss at your sudden dive from earlier was only a ruse. He loved the nights you chose to sleep tucked into his side, but he delighted in the nights you chose to smother him, arms always wrapped around him. He had days to live for with you, but there were always nights to live for as well.

“Sweetest of dreams, Mayfly.”

A/N: side note! i am open to requests! i think they're super fun and it really does get me motivated to write more :)

masterlist

divider

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - final part (7)

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer meet in the afternoon like they’d promised to play chess and get coffee. everything is prefect and comfortable, even as reader gets brave enough to do something she felt sorry for not doing sooner. 

a/n: gang… i don’t wanna end this one… but idk what i should do past this part😭😭😭 but if yall want more just request smth cuz im obsessed with how this turned out🤓 ALSO ty for all the love you’re given this series, ive had a blast writing this (literally destroyed my sleep schedule i made because i go back to school in like four days or some bullshit) and it’s rlly awesome being a writer that makes fun little things that ppl end up loving!!!! so big ty to all of yall who’ve been reading 

————————————————————————

was this too much?

i stared at myself in the mirror as i adjusted the collar of my sweater with my fingers. 

i’m just going to see my best friend, so why am i dressing like this is a date? and why am i so nervous. 

it’s a good nervous. the kind that had an entire rabble of butterflies fluttering around my stomach.

it wasn’t fancy, just a casual outfit that he’d definitely never seen me in before. i would wear this on a date though. on an occasion like this one.

i stepped away from my reflection. it was 11:30 and it wouldn’t take me longer than ten minutes to get to the coffee shop but i got my shoes on anyway. it doesn’t hurt to be early. 

i left my apartment in a giddy rush. my feet were louder on the stairs than usual due to my quick pace. 

one of my neighbors who was walking inside gave me an amused smile. “what’re you getting up to today?” she asked. 

i directed my eyes towards her. “i’m going to see a friend.” my lips were pinned in a smile. 

she grinned widely. “is it that boy who’s always coming over? the handsome tall one with brown hair?” 

“maybe.” i nodded. 

she gave me a knowing look. “oh honey, are you sure he’s just a friend?”

i tried to hide the flush over my cheeks. “i’m sure.” 

“okay.” she nodded slowly like she wasn’t convinced. “i’ll know when he’s more than that.” 

i rolled my eyes and left the building, deciding to walk instead of drive. maybe it’ll help my energy levels. 

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

i was cold by the time i got to the coffee shop. the autumn air was motionless apart from when cars would drive past me on the street, and the chill bit at my face and hands, even though i had them hidden in the sleeves of my sweater. it was bearable though. 

“welcome in!” 

the cheerful voice of a barista behind the counter mingled with the bell above the door and the chatter of customers placed across the establishment. it was warm inside and it smelled like coffee, for obvious reasons. 

“hey.” a familiar voice sounded behind me. i turned around to look at spencer while he closed the shop door behind himself. 

“hi.” i smiled. 

“have you been here long?” he wondered. 

i shook my head and freed my hands from my sleeves. “no. i got here a minute or two ago…” spencer’s hand on my face had me trailing off. his fingers moved some of my hair away from my eyes.

“did you walk?” his brows were pinched together, more so as i nodded. “it’s cold out.” 

i smiled. he’s too sweet. “i’m okay. it’s not that bad.” i promised him through the tone of my voice and the look i gave him through my lashes. 

he smiled softly with a nod. “good.” 

“we still have a chess game to go play, so you better not let the temperature get to you.” my hand reached out to gently clamp around his wrist so i could pull him after me into the short line so we could get our coffees and then walk to the park. 

“can i try yours?” i asked while walking down the sidewalk, outside again. i gestured to his coffee by tapping the side of it with my index finger. our arms brushed as we walked. 

spencer hummed a ‘yes’ as he handed off his cup to me. 

i excitedly took his cup and sipped from it, cautiously because i’ve heard morgan say that it would put him in a coma if he had more than a sip of it after mixing up an order. this happened years ago but morgan still talks about it.

he was right because when the drink hit my tongue i closed my eyes, pulling a face at how sweet it was. “jesus!”

spencer’s sweet laughter swirled inside my head. he gently took his cup back. “too sweet?” 

i nodded quickly. “yeah. how do you drink that everyday?” i sipped my own coffee to try and get rid of the sugar that still lingered on my tongue. 

when we kissed he tasted like that.

he shrugged. “i don’t know, I’m just used to it i guess.”

our arms brushed again because i can’t walk in a straight line but he didn’t seem to mind. “what did you get?” he quizzed. 

i read the barista’s handwriting on the side of the cup. it was what i got whenever i went to a coffee shop but i still liked to get my answer right. “a half dark half white chocolate mocha with caramel. i got a double shot of espresso today so… we’ll see how that plays out.” my eyes trailed up to his face while we stopped at the crosswalk across from the park. he glanced down at me, eyes all content. his pupils were blown wide which made it hard to see the brown of his eyes. 

“don’t get a caffeine rush on me.” spencer told me. “i might not be able to handle you.” 

i scoffed with a squint of my eyes. “please, you’re able to handle me no matter what.” 

he agreed with me. 

while we were stepping away from the safety of the sidewalk i mindlessly grabbed spencer’s hand. it was just a habit i’ve always had. an instinct to reach out and hold onto whoever i was with while crossing the street. 

when we reached the other side i quickly released his hand. i met his eyes with my own. “sorry. force of habit.” i smiled shyly. 

spencer smiled back. “it’s okay.” 

he found an empty table to play chess at, which was the only one that wasn’t occupied. i never knew people favored playing chess in a park so much until now.

i sat down on a stone chair on one side of the board while spencer sat across from me, pulling a box of chess pieces out of his bag. i watched him slide the white colored pieces over to me. “do you just carry those around all the time?” i wondered while placing all the pieces in the correct places. 

“yeah.” he nodded. 

i smiled. “you have a marry poppins bag.” 

“i love marry poppins.” spencer hummed. 

i laughed quietly in endearment. he’s really pretty today. 

“okay,” i put my hands flush against one another and rubbed them together. “prepare to loose.” i slid one piece forward.

spencer shook his head. “in your dreams.” he moved a piece. 

i watched him and processed a few things i could do before moving. 

we went back and forth in silence for a few minutes before i looked up at him. he was looking at the board with furrowed brows. “when did you learn to play?” 

spencer moved a piece before answering. “when i was a kid. me and my mom would play a lot.” he focused on my lips for a moment before shifting to my eyes. he smiled almost timidly. 

i stole one of his pieces with my next move. it was held between my fingers beside my face. “gotcha.” i whispered. 

he took a piece of mine and mirrored me. “you were saying?”

i frowned. “you’re mean.” i moved again.

“this is all part of the game.” he laughed as we kept playing. 

i rested my head in my hand and stared at the pieces in thought. i moved another piece over the board before taking a quick sip of coffee. 

the park was nice today. there were a lot of people walking or sitting or playing chess like us. it was comfortable. i don’t know why i haven’t come here as much. 

spencer’s hair fell over his face when a light breeze blew through the park and i wanted to reach out and brush it out of his eyes. 

i don’t remember moving my arms to do so, but i leaned across the small table and did so anyway. spencer didn’t take his eyes off of mine, not while i was moving his hair with my fingertips on his skin, and not when his hand mirroring mine took the one in his hair in his own. he intertwined our fingers and i thought i was dreaming as he moved so our elbows were propping our joined hands over the board. 

he nonchalantly went back to the game, taking one of my pieces. “your move.” he squeezed my hand to snap me out of my trance the physical contact put me in. 

i nodded, pursing my lips. “right.” i felt like there was more attention on me and it made my focus dwindle. i still moved a piece that spencer took after a few moves, but he smoothed his thumb over the small extent of my hand he could touch. 

i smiled suddenly as i took a piece of his. “while i was leaving my building my neighbor asked me where i was going. when i told her i was seeing a friend she asked ‘the handsome tall one with brown hair’ and i thought that was such an accurate description of you.” i sipped more of my coffee. being outside had cooled it down significantly. 

spencer squeezed my hand that i was convinced he wasn’t ever going to let go. i met his eyes. “you think i’m…” he trailed off momentarily while he moved another piece. “tall?” he asked, that stupid but addicting smile slipped onto his lips. 

i scoffed, mouth open in an amused smile. “yes, yes i do.” i nodded with a laugh. “all 6’1 of you.” 

spencer’s eyes were so soft on mine. they were just full of adoration and endearment. i didn’t have a problem with getting lost in them. i’d get more lost just in his company every day. 

“you’re so beautiful…” his voice was so quiet i wouldn’t have caught what he’d said if i wasn’t looking at him. i read his lips in slow motion. 

“thank you.” 

we played the rest of the game in silence and secret glances. spencer won which didn’t surprise me. he told me i was good though, and that must mean i’m really good if its coming from him. 

spencer let go of my hand so that we could put the pieces away. my hand got cold immediately. i worked quickly to group the colors of pieces and slide them over to him. 

when we left the table, people immediately occupied it. i laughed slightly. 

“is there this many people here often?” i asked, my hand brushing his as we walked. 

he slowly interlaced our fingers again, being casual with it. “this isn’t the busiest it’s been.” he replied. i nodded, looking down at our joined hands. 

my feet stopped moving across the sidewalk and spencer stopped with me. “you okay?” 

i looked up at him, searching his eyes for what he must have searched mine for when he’d first kissed me. 

i wanted to kiss him. 

i can’t deny that anymore. 

so in the middle of the park in the afternoon i did just that. i stood on my toes and kissed him. my chest pressed against his and i swear i could feel his quickened heartbeat while our lips gently pressed together. 

spencer dropped my hand to cradle my face, meaning i couldn’t pull away so soon. and i was just fine with that. 

i slid my hand around his waist to his back. my palms pressed flat into him, making a soft hum pass from him to me. 

when we did pull away for breath, spencer whispered, “it’s not too early to love me.” his forehead pressed against mine. 

i smiled. “you heard me that night?”

“yeah.” he nodded subtly. “and i’ve played it over and over again in my head.” 

i smiled, tilting my head to kiss him once. “it sounds like you love me.” i ran my hands down his back. 

“i do.” he whispered. “i really do.” 

my head rested on his chest as i hugged him closer. his arms wrapped around me in an instant. “i’m sorry i made you wait for me.” i muttered. 

“i’d wait for you no matter what.” spencer replied, kissing the top of my head. 

i smiled in content, breathing in his scent that was like a muscle relaxant. everyone and everything around me and him just faded away. 

until both of us got a phone call. 

i frowned and dug into my pocket to answer the same time as spencer. 

“hello?” 

“hello my lovely, we have a case and need you here ASAP.” penelope’s cheerful voice filled my ear. i sighed and looked up at spencer as he gave me the same look. 

i nodded. “okay. we’ll start heading over.” 

“who’s ‘we’?” penelope asked. 

“me and spencer.” i replied, not really caring if she freaks out because it’s worth it for him. 

she squealed over the line. spencer had already hung up and was waiting for me. “that’s so adorable. okay, get here quick, hotch is looking at me impatiently.”

“okay. see you soon.” 

“bye!”

i shoved my phone back into my pocket. “there goes the weekend.” i took spencer’s hand as we walked to where his car was parked. 

“i’m glad we got to do this.” he told me. i smiled, running my thumb against his hand. 

“me too.” i agreed. 

spencer stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to kiss me once. i giggled with my eyes closed. “what was that for?” i wondered. 

“just to make sure this is real.” he replied. 

i stood on my toes to kiss him again. “it is.” 

he kissed me one more time, which resulted in some guy telling us to ‘get a room’ to which i started laughing, head leaned back. 

spencer started dragging me to his car with that, we were in the safety of it when he kissed me one last time. 

“the team is waiting.” i reminded him. 

his eyes went wide. “i forgot.” he chuckled softly. 

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

when we made it to the roundtable room morgan whistled at us. “about time.” 

i smiled awkwardly and sat down, spencer following right beside me. “sorry. my car wouldn’t start.” i lied. 

“ah yes, so you repaid pretty boy with a kiss?” 

i whipped my head towards spencer and noticed a mark from the tinted chapstick i was wearing on his lips. i discretely used my fingers to wipe away any color that escaped my lips. “that’s not from me that’s from… a random girl on the street.” i avoided everyone’s eyes while attempting not to smile. “she thought he was handsome.” 

the whole team exchanged a series of unconvinced looks. hotch was the first to speak. “start the brief garcia.” 

with that she got started, talking about the new case full of gruesome details that i only heard half of. i was too distracted by the way spencer grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed it to assure we were okay. 

the team definitely didn’t believe any of what i’d just said but it didn’t really matter. neither of us cared. 

it definitely wasn’t too early to love him. 

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

in a boy's dream

pairing: stars! chris x reader

cw: infidelity, p in v, oral, unprotected sex, friends to lovers

summary: you have a boyfriend (who is a cheater), but you have a best friend, chris who thinks you deserve better

a/n: idc how cringe it may be i listened to crash into me by dave mattews band multiple times while i wrote this, so that's where the title comes from

wc: 2.5k

“I’ll kill that asshole. I swear it, this time,” he says, flicking ash from his cigarette. His hand rests on the on the railing of your balcony. It’s nearly midnight.

“No, it’s my fault,” you say, wiping your nose with your sweater. “I should’ve given him more attention when he needed it. He wouldn’t have run to other girls if I had.”

“No, you don’t get it.” He gestures emphatically like he’s revealing the secrets of the universe to you. “You’re the perfect girl, and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“First off,” You say, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction, “I am not the perfect girl, and second, we don’t even know if he was really cheating, you know, we haven’t even heard his side of the story.”

“You’re really gonna stay with him?” Chris is indignant, and you only realize the reason is two-fold later that night.

“You haven’t had a successful relationship, like, ever, so why do you think you have the right to judge me?” You turn your head towards the night sky and cross your arms over your chest.

“Whoa. Defensive much?” His face is plastered with the same incredulous grin.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

Smoke from the cigarette surrounds him like a storm cloud and yet he still glows under the porch light like an angel.

“It’s okay,” he says, rubbing your shoulder in a painfully platonic way. If only he knew how you felt about him.

Inside your apartment, he cleans up the remnants of your movie night. Popcorn kernels, beer bottles, and used tissues. You had a cheesy romance marathon. If only he knew.

“Do you wanna stay?” You ask as he lingers by the door, planning his exit. You pray it doesn’t sound as pathetic to him as you think it does when you hear the words leave your mouth.

“What will your boyfriend think about that?” He says mockingly, skirting around the inevitable “yes”.

“He won’t know about it. Plus, it’s not like we’re doing anything.”

“Sure this isn’t your way of trying to stick it to him for cheating?”

“No, like I said, I’m going to be the bigger person about this.”

He follows you into your bedroom like a lost puppy. “I don’t think I’ve ever really seen this room…” He takes in the scenery, the majority of the décor is clearly chosen by you, but there are remnants of a man who shares this room with you.

“It’s nothing special.” You yawn, exhausted to the point where you think you might topple over while you’re on the hunt for something to sleep in. You must look ridiculous – drunk, really, even though you’re only tipsy. You fumble through the laundry for a moment until Chris offers, “You can have my shirt if you need something to sleep in.”

The t-shirt is the gateway drug. You know once you see him shirtless you’ll be hooked. You’ve caught a glimpse before, and the image sits in an ornate frame on the mantle of your mind palace. In every fantasy, he ends up in bed with you, and yet, when the event is about to unfold in front of you, there’s something that holds you back. Your boyfriend has you trapped in his greedy hands, always grasping for more women than they can satisfy.

Chris’ t-shirt has the STARS symbol on it and it smells like him. Like cigarettes and aftershave. And whatever pheromones you’ll blame your rash decision-making on, the ones that have you captivated by him.

The sound of your breathing fills the silence in your bedroom. You feel the same sensation that one does when they knock something off the counter by accident, everything is happening in slow motion, and there is nothing you can do to stop the collision, but your heart rate increases while you scramble for a solution.

“Hey,” he says, letting the word linger long enough for you to piece it all together.

“Hey,” you say, breath heavy with the unspoken words.

“I mean it when I say you deserve to be treated better than the way he treats you.”

You nod in reluctant agreement.

What is the point in resistance? You draw lines in the sand between yourselves but still inch towards the boundaries, the dips in the mattress where your bodies lie helpless against the tide of desire.

Your lips meet meet their fate, colliding with Chris’. Chris pulls back first, “You can blame it on me tomorrow… if you’re still stuck on being the bigger person.”

“We can’t,” you say, betraying the hunger inside you.

“Because of him?”

You look away, knowing that locking eyes with Chris will be your last moment of sanity before the parasitic lust inside you takes over its host.

“What do you want? I want this to be about you, not him, not me.”

“I want you,” you admit. It’s always been him.

“You have me,” he says.

One of his hands cups your cheek while the other strokes your side. He doesn’t slide his hand under your shirt until you lean in to kiss him again. His touch is gentle, which would surprise many due to his muscular frame and the confidence with which he carries himself, but not you. You remember all of his subtleties, every time he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, the way his palm grazed your back when he slipped passed you in the STARS office last week, most of all, in the rain, when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you under the awning, helping you narrowly avoid the droplets that were falling from the gutter above.

You’ve imagined his hands cupping your breasts before but the feeling of his thumb grazing your nipple is more tantalizing than the sensation of your own fingertips, which they’re wholly used to after all the time you’ve spent in this bed, using your fingers to mimic the motions of his in your fantasies.

You gasp into his mouth, a final intake of air before he leaves you breathless. You hook your leg over his hip, still covered by sweatpants much to your dismay. You pull him closer with all the strength in your calves – all thanks to training with Chris – and you can feel his hardness straining against the fabric.

Chris sneaks a glance at your panties – a solid color cotton pair – and you worry he’ll be disappointed until you see his smile, so soft, so real.

“Sorry, I would’ve put in more effort if I’d known.”

“Shut up,” he says, bringing his mouth towards yours, “you’re beautiful. I think the color really suits you.”

Your face flushes and he thinks the pink in your cheeks suits you better, but he doesn’t dare say it. “I like the way you look in my shirt,” he says.

“I like it, too, it smells like you.”

“I can’t decide if I want you to take it off or not.”

“Well, I,” you say, tugging at the waistband of his pants, “want to get these off of you.”

“I suppose it’s only fair,” he says, and removes them, revealing similarly plain colored underwear. The fabric isn’t the focus, though, it’s an obstruction. Eagerly, you tug the waistband down and his hard cock pops out. You watch as a bead of precum forms at the tip. He needs you as much as you need him.

When Chris lays you back on the bed and lifts your shirt up to gain access to your dripping core, you watch on in awe. He looks up, feeling your eyes on him.

“Something the matter?”

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve-- the last time anyone’s done this.”

“He didn’t eat you out?”

You shake your head and Chris’ bewilderment makes you shy.

“Oh, baby, we are making up for lost time tonight, then,” he mumbles as he dips his head between your thighs. His tongue glides over your slit in languid movements – he needs to savor you. You don’t even realize how loud you’re moaning because you’re so entranced by the fact that the man going down on you is not just a man, it’s Chris, the man you’ve wanted for so long, and he’s even better than you’d dreamed he’d be.

He lifts his head and you think you might push it back down.

“I can’t fucking believe he had the chance to do this all the time and he didn’t take it. Goddamn, you taste so good.”

“He did it occasionally in the beginning of our relationship.” It takes you a full minute to get the sentence out because all the air in your lungs is sucked up by your moans. Luckily, Chris’ mouth is occupied and he can’t interrupt.

Between breaths you say, “But, you’re so much better than he-- oh, Chris, I’m gonna—” Your labored breaths turn into whines and you’re teetering on the edge, gripping the bedsheets, trying to delay your pleasure until you’re sure he’s okay with you letting go. He doesn’t let up. Instead, he caresses your hips and your thighs, reassuring you that you can-- no, you should cum in his mouth.

You moan loud enough that your neighbors bang a broom on the wall as you coat his face with your arousal. Chris is beaming, yet slightly dazed when he meets your eyes. His hands on your cheeks are gentle when he pulls you in for a kiss, but you’re already scrambling for a way to repay what you consider to be a favor.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all about you tonight,” he whispers.

“I want to make you feel good.”

“Really, it’s—”

“No, Chris, I want to.”

“Okay, then, how do you want me?”

“Will you—” You chew on your lip, unable to finish your sentence.

“Will I?” “Fuck me… Please?” The request itself is not unexpected, but your vulgarity is.

“Fuck yes.” He kisses you again, nearly getting lost in the feeling of your lips before he stops. “Wait—do you have a condom ‘cause I didn’t bring any… I would’ve prepared if I’d known.”

“I do, but I don’t wanna use one.”

The look of shock – poorly hidden excitement—on his face makes your cheeks burn. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m on the pill and I’m clean… I always made him use protection, so…”

“But not me?”

“I was always worried that he was seeing someone else… and I wanted to be safe…” There’s a pause. “And, I guess I knew that he never deserved to have me like that.”

“He didn’t deserve to have you at all.”

He gives his cock a few anticipatory pumps before he lines up at your entrance.

“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m not—” You cut yourself off with a noise that’ll surely have your neighbors banging on your door.

Panting already, you say, “Go slower… please…”

“Sorry,” he says, nervously scratching the back of his neck, “I guess I got a little carried away.”

“Don’t be sorry. You’re just… really big… and I’m not used to it yet…”

You realize the implication at the same time Chris does and though turned on by the flattery, he’s more amused than anything.

“Oh? He wasn’t this big?”

“Uh-uh.” Your expression quickly shifts with that snap of his hips. Previously grinning – on the verge of laughter – now your head is thrown back and your eyes are shut.

With your neck now exposed, Chris sucks lightly on the skin without considering the consequences until he pulls back and notices the bruise forming. He runs his fingers over the spot.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to leave a mark. I’ll get you ice later and we can cover it up.”

“No, I want you to leave marks. I want him to know I’m yours.”

He shouldn’t be so surprised. You’ve always been his. More than ever when he hits the perfect spot inside you, making you moan so loudly that he has to cover your mouth to muffle the sounds lest you get a noise complaint.

When you clench around him, he groans into your ear. “I wish we didn’t have to be so quiet. I wanna hear all of your pretty noises.”

Selfishly, he removes his hand from your mouth. Screw the neighbors. They’re lucky to hear your beautiful voice, he thinks.

“You’re so much better than him,” you say, though it almost comes out panicked as the realization hits you. “Shit- I think I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yeah? I’m close, too.”

“Don’t pull out… please.”

He can’t refuse a request like that. He should, but he can’t. “Oh fuck,” he says, “you want me to cum inside you?”

“Yeah-- Chris, I’m—”

Having given up on covering up your moans, his hand cradles the back of your head as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. You wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him as deep as possible. His thrusts remain slow, but steady, barely pulling out each time.

His orgasm hits at the same time as yours does. You nearly scream at the intensity, but Chris presses his lips to yours before you can piss off the neighbors. He fucks you slowly through the aftershocks, and even once his hips finally halt their movements, you continue making out, clinging to each other because the thought of letting go makes your heart ache.

Once you’re overstimulated and he’s forced to pull out, he wraps you in his arms and you don’t know realize you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up hours later. Chris is still asleep, he’s still holding you. He’s so warm and real, and that’s what makes the tears fall. You’re crying silently, but he wakes up to your head buried into his chest, wet droplets on his bare skin.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Told you I’d take the fall for you, remember?” He assumes you’re ashamed of what you did.

“No, no, that’s not it. It’s just that I… I don’t want to lose you.”

“What makes you think you’d lose me?”

“I can’t keep hiding my feelings from you, and if you don’t like me back then, then, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You don’t have to worry about that ‘cause I do like you back.”

“You mean, like, really like me? Not just as a friend?”

“Yeah, I always have. I just didn’t want to tell you since you were with someone else. I didn’t want to ruin what you had with him… until I saw how shitty he was treating you…”

“There was nothing left to ruin.”

“… I could ruin him… or at least, I could rough him up a little if you’d like.”

“How about you just get physical with me instead?”

“Oh yeah? Think you can be quiet this time?”

“It’s not like I’m loud all the time! They can handle a little noise. It’s a Saturday night.”

“Really? You’re not loud all the time ‘cause you were pretty loud with me.”

“Yeah, with you.”

“Not with him?”

“With who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Oh, you mean my ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah, that guy.”

“I almost forgot he existed.”

[brandyllyn]

Silk from their soul (11)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Explicit (PIV, choking) Words: 2.2k Summary: Hidey-Hole

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

Were you supposed to look him in the eye now?

You’d fallen into a deep sleep almost immediately after that earth-shattering orgasm and woken on the ground by yourself, a pack under your head for a pillow while he sat a few feet away and watched the wasteland. He hadn’t commented on the events of the night before, just given you a sly grin and asked you to put on something for breakfast since you’d slept through your watch.

Never mind he didn’t wake you for it.

You finally seem to be heading north, towards the mountains. You have a vague memory of traveling through here before.

“Do you think it’s better to try to find the old road or just head up?”

He’s walking a few feet ahead of you and doesn’t stop when he answers. “Lotta raiders on the roads, we’ll be better off cross-country.”

That made sense. It was a perfectly normal thing to say. Just two people walking companionably together.

It was going to drive you bonkers.

“Hey Cowboy,” you shout, taking a few running steps to catch up with him. He turns as you fall into step, his blank look almost making you falter. But you steel yourself and give him a winning smile. “Do we need to talk? Or not talk, maybe, but acknowledge? What happened?”

“You mean when I had my fingers in your cunt?”

Well, okay, that was one way of putting it.

“Don’t figure there’s much to talk about. You liked it?”

“Yes,” you say quickly.

“Wanna do it again?”

“Now?”

Your spluttering question puts a grin on his face and he makes a show of looking around. You’re in what used to be some sort of rest stop, several different buildings still mostly standing.

“Well, I wasn’t thinking right this minute but a fella could be convinced-”

A roar rends the air between you and you both freeze. You wait for him to verify what you really hope isn’t true.

“Deathclaw.”

Your heart drops. Scanning the horizon you try to pick out what he is seeing. “I thought they were further east than this?”

“You wanna be the one to tell him he needs to go home?”

They’re a rumble, almost like thunder, shaking you to your core. “Is that it?”

He’s got your arm in one hand, dragging you towards a run down building. There’s no door, and the interior is half filled with dirt. “Inside.”

“Inside what?”

The Cowboy gestures towards the ground, at a hole you had barely noticed. With his other hand he unslings his rifle, checking the chamber with a practiced flip. The hole itself is not big, large enough to crawl into on your hands and knees and extending back God only knew how far.

“What if something is in there?”

“You can lose a toe to a rad roach or your head to a deathclaw, sweetheart. I know which I would pick.”

He’s posted at the door, squinting off into the distance and you suddenly realize he intends for you to go in there alone.

“What are you going to do?”

“Hold it off,” he shrugs, “try to lead it away.”

“Can it smell us?”

“What?”

You grab his arm, pulling him into the house with you, “Can it smell us?”

“No, but it can see your ass just fine so-”

“Feet first,” you shove him at the hole. He glares but does so, sliding in without comment until you can’t see him any longer. His hat sits dejectedly by the entrance and you try to decide if you can pick it up when an earth-shattering roar splits the air. 

Well, nothing seems to have bitten him. 

You throw him your pack and then slide in feet first next to him, pushing with your hands against the fallen rocks and dirt. He reaches out a hand to help and between you you manage to shimmy down a few feet - maybe four in total from the entrance to the top of your head.

It’s not so tight you can’t move, can’t put a little space between you, but it’s difficult. You feel the arms he’s laying on move, a hand coming up to cover the shoulder dug into the dirt, and then he’s shifting you both until you’re lying beneath him.

“Both hands free now,” he grunts, pulling his pistol from its holster and laying it just past your head. Sure, he can see now but all you can see is his chest and dark concrete. He’s crouched over you, shifting upwards so his elbows are by your head, his knees on each side of your hips. You both stay silent as the ground shakes.

Shit, what if this hidey-hole collapses?

Another roar and you clutch at him out of instinct, burying your face into his chest. How close is it? Can it reach you? You try to slip further down but your feet hit more rock. 

Well, at least there’s nothing living in here.

Another roar, this time maybe slightly farther away. The Cowboy lets out a breath and shifts down so he can look you in the eye.

“I think it might have seen us, sounds like it’s hunting.”

His voice is barely over a whisper and you answer in the same low tone. “How long will it look?”

“Hour? Maybe two? Depends on if something else grabs his attention.” He glances down and seems to suddenly realize the position you’re in. A slow grin moves over his face and he shifts one foot between yours, kicking your legs apart and settling his hips down until they’re flush to yours.

“Seems like we might have a fair bit of time to pass.”

Your eyes widen in shock even as he pushes his half-hard cock against you. He looks pleased as punch about the fact. “You can’t mean to-”

“I do, and I will - unless you’re about to tell me no. That what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You consider it for only a moment before shaking your head. “No. I mean… yes.”

He tilts his head and licks his lips. “Well that’s about clear as mud.”

“I want you,” you finally settle on, getting a warm feeling when he gives you a genuine smile in return.

“No kissing, right?” he confirms, fingers playing with the strap of your dress. You nod silently, too afraid of what will happen now if you try to speak. It’s enough for him, slipping his hand beneath the fabric and twisting it down until it’s shoved under your breast.

“Well ain’t that a sight.”

His mouth feels like a brand, lips hot with a dry, almost raspy tongue laving against your skin. You should stop this, should tell him this isn’t right. It wasn’t right last night either but you didn’t care then and you can’t make yourself care now. It feels amazing and when he pulls your nipple between his lips there’s no thought left but how good he’s making you feel.

You groan, fingers digging into the rough skin on the back of his neck. He bites down, maybe a little too hard, and you nearly arch the both of you into the ceiling. 

“Thata girl,” he mumbles, fingers working at the other side of your dress until he’s got it pulled down too. You help as best you can, shimmying the straps down and then letting him push it to your waist. He rubs his face against you for a moment, pressing your breasts to his cheeks before turning and sucking your other nipple between his lips.

It’s too much and a harsh cry leaves you before you can stop it. There is an answering bellow from the deathclaw a half second later and suddenly a hand clamps over your mouth. The leather smells of blood and bile and you recoil.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he whispers, “if you can���t be quiet we’re going to have to stop.” One knee pressed at yours, pushing them further apart so he can hitch your thigh up on his hip. “And that sure would be waste of all this here attraction.”

You jerk at his hand, pulling it from your mouth then yank at the fingers of the glove. He understands immediately, using his teeth to pull first one, then the other off.  Staring directly into your eyes he covers your mouth with one palm, fingers digging into your cheek.

“Quiet as a church mouse,” he warns before ducking back down and nibbling at your breast. His other hand is on your thigh, pushing the skirt of the dress up slow enough you can tell he’s waiting for you to stop him.

You don’t, spreading your legs wider instead and shifting so he can cup his hand over your panties. It’s his turn to groan, albeit quieter than you had, fingers jerking at the cotton and twisting so he can slip against you.

“Ah, darlin’, you’re fucking soaked.” His accent is coming thicker somehow, laying over you like a blanket. His fingers toy between your thighs before pushing further, flicking over your clit.

It’s a good thing he’s got a hand over your mouth because you can’t hold back the noise you make. Suddenly he’s gone and you want to protest. You’ll beg, you’ll promise him anything, just…

He’s jerking at his belt and in your befuddled state it takes a minute to realize what he’s doing. But then you’re there with him, unzipping his pants and pushing them down far enough that his cock can spring free. It’s even hotter than the rest of him, enough to make you wonder if he’ll burn as you take him into your hand. He thrusts into your palm before knocking it away, guiding himself towards your center.

You try to brace yourself, try to relax into what you know is coming. But you can’t help the small muffled cry, or the way your eyes widen when he shoves himself into you. Your body goes rigid and his eyes meet yours, rounded with shock.

“Oh darlin’,” he mutters, his grip on your jaw relaxing slightly. He’s wide, almost impossibly so, even barely inside you can feel the stretch. “You sure about this?”

You nod, gripping his waist and trying to adjust your legs to take him easier. He watches you this time, easing forward in short movements a quarter inch at a time. Your slick eases the way and he finally seats himself, hips flush to yours.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every twitch of him hard and hot inside of you. It’s scorching, almost uncomfortably so, but you can’t get enough. Soon the pain fades and you clutch your knees to his hips, arching your back to take him deeper. He growls when you do, tilting his head to bite against your neck.

It’s not gentle, not slow and rocking like you imagined it might be. No, it’s one hand over your mouth while he fucks you into the floor. You can feel his panting breath against your skin, hear the scrape of his knees on stone, smell the lingering scent of the chem he takes.

He arches over you, stilling suddenly and you feel a surge of disappointment. You knew it was likely this was how it would go - every bit of your education had been centered around your partner’s pleasure. Yet after last night you can’t help but feel like you’ve missed out, that this could have been so much better. He’d taken his time then, had seemed to enjoy getting you off.

“Not a peep,” he says lowly, eyes fixed somewhere over your head. You listen, so caught up in what was happening you had entirely missed the shuffling footsteps not ten feet away. Whatever it was was heavy, the ground rumbling beneath you.

Not thinking twice, you arch your back so you can tilt your head, trying to see what is happening. The movement causes the Cowboy to slip deeper inside of you and he hisses. The hand on your mouth goes to your throat, almost slamming you back to the floor and holding you there while he glares down at you. 

He hadn’t finished after all.

The warning look is all you get before he begins to move again - the new angle punching something delicious inside of you. It’s too slow, not enough to come, but you can feel it building even as the monster in the room roars. He fucks you like that until the deathclaw leaves - slow, almost angry thrusts that make your entire body rock. By the time he speeds up you can feel tears at the corners of your eyes, your hands clawing against his back.

“Please,” you whisper, eyes pleading, “please.”

He glances over your head then leans down, lips next to your ear. “You wanna come for me, darlin’? Squeeze that little pussy around my cock til I fill you up?” He snarls at the last word, shaking his head slightly and adjusting just a fraction.

It’s enough, you come with a strangled cry that he cuts off with a fist around your throat. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced, the edges of your vision going black as your body shudders beneath his. You hear him curse, feel him move, and then he splashes across your stomach and thighs.

It takes a moment for his grip to loosen, for him to let you take a gasping gulp of air and blink up at him with wide eyes. He looks just as dumbstruck, his lips parted and you can see his pink tongue run along his lower teeth. He leans down slowly, his eyes dropping to your lips…

You turn away.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

[espinosaurusrexex]

You get your first flowers from Bucky

a/n: somebody send me some flowers please, banner is not mine

word count: ~500

warnings: crying, every guy in the world being stupid - except Bucky ☺️

･ﾟ✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ｡✭･ﾟ

"For me?"

You looked at the bouquet in Bucky’s hands, a pretty smile painting his features as he stood in your doorway.

"Of course they’re for you, doll. You see any other gorgeous dame around?" He watched the hall jokingly before returning his smile to you and encouraging you to take the flowers with a nod.

"I- I don’t know what to say, Buck." The bouquet was beautiful, colorful pastels mixing in one frame of green and the man holding it was even more gorgeous. But the unfamiliarity of the situation brought a horrifying realization.

"You don’t have to say anything. Just put them in a vase and get your shoes."

His gaze wandered from your bare feet back up to you when he heard a sniffle. You were crying, and panic began to rise in Bucky's chest. Usually women didn’t react that way - well, in the 40s, that was. He didn’t know what to do when they started crying because of flowers. Was that a thing?

"I’m sorry," you heaved when you noticed his expression falter, the thick tears falling from your eyes so fast you couldn’t wipe them away anymore.

"It’s okay, doll. What’s wrong?" It was stupid to weep about such a common gesture, but for you, it meant so much more.

"I love them so mu- much..." you sobbed, the sweet smell of the colorful bouquet filling your nose before it started running as well.

This was not at all how you had planned for this evening to go. Your eyes were puffy and Bucky looked as though he had witnessed a car crash.

"I can throw them out if they're the reason. I-" his hands flailed in the air. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Nothing, they're perfect. You're perfect, it's just..."

"What, doll?" He grabbed your shoulders, smoothing his hands up and down with a gentle pace.

"I've never gotten flowers before, and getting them from you just makes it feel extra special..." The hiccups had died down. Now there was only a slight tremor in your voice when you looked at him through glassy eyes.

Bucky's heart ached. How could an amazing person such as yourself have never gotten flowers before? He shook his head while stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind him. When he pulled you into a tight hug, he kicked his shoes off.

"How about a night in instead, sweetheart?"

You shook your head against his chest, the smell of his cologne filling your body and easing it immediately. "No, we don't have to. I'm sorry... just caught me off guard."

"It's okay. I'm happy as long as I can spend time with you. Doesn't need to be in an expensive restaurant. Besides, I think I just figured out another way I can spend that money."

Your smile warmed his soul and when he laid you both down on the sofa, he silently decided that every other guy you'd ever met was an idiot for not getting you flowers. He would give you flowers for the rest of your life if it meant reliving these moments for eternity: With you in his arms, happy and surrounded by the faint smell of spring.

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@circe143

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Fallen Order request is Biohazard for @ledeni-tm

“No.”

Cal stands at the bottom of the ramp and stares up at Greez, haloed in the ship’s internal lighting. “Huh?”

Greez points, specifically at the poncho Cal as clutched in his hand. “No more. Not a single one. By the gods, Cal, I can smell the damn thing from here.”

Cal holds it up to demonstrate the very funky pattern it has. Best of all, it’s a nice, thick wool. Once it’s clean and dry, it’ll be a favourite for sure. “I need it, Greez. It’s mine.”

“I understand and accept that five years on Bracca has ruined your sense of smell, but me and Cere? Ours is fine. And as such, we can smell that little poncho selection of yours no matter what we do. So, the following are your options – get rid of them all and we’ll find you a nice new one in a store that doesn’t sell actual biohazards.”

“Not happening.”

BD backs him up with a rude squeal.

Hands held up in a pacifying gesture, Greez waits for silence. “Or you stay out there and do some laundry.”

The sky overhead is thick with the promise of a snowstorm. Cal’s hands are cold and stiff from his journey across Zeffo. He’s tired and hungry, thoughts of dinner getting him through the lengthy journey back to the ship. He doesn’t particularly want to stay outside, but he also refuses to give up a single one of his ponchos. They’re his. All of them. He found them, and sure, maybe some are coated in mildew, and others have a smell he can’t quite get rid of, but none of them are actual biohazards…

…are they?

“Are they?” he asks BD.

BD’s scans suggest a couple might host bacteria unsafe for most organics, and while he has no capacity to smell, scans would indicate unpleasant odours would be a side effect of said bacteria.

“Fine,” Cal says. “I guess it’s laundry day.”

Greez’s ominous laugh echoes down from the ship. “I knew you’d say that.” He returns with a large container (honestly, it’s large enough to stuff Greez himself into). “Fill this with water. I’ve got various detergents to clean these things up.”

“I do wash them!” Cal insists.

“With appropriate laundry detergents, or with soap when you shower? Or does going for a swim in a poncho count as washing them?”

Opting for tactical silence, Cal places the new poncho into the container and plods onto the ship with it. He fills the container in the shower as it won’t fit under the sink, then lugs it back outside. He places it down and returns to the engine room to fetch all his ponchos. He puts them all inside.

“Now, watch a master at work.” Greez adds a blend of detergents and something called fabric conditioner to the water. It all sounds like a waste of credits to Cal. Greez also adds an entire bottle of disinfectant and gives the whole barrel a mix with a stick. “We’re gonna let this stew for a while before you heft it all back inside and stick them in the machine to spin. After that, we’ll bring them back out here to air dry. Might take a while, given how cold it is, but it will help with the stench.”

“Are they really that bad?”

“Worse.”

“I’m sorry, Greez.”

Greez looks up from his stirring. “Why do you always make me feel so bad about stuff, even when you’re in the wrong and I’m definitely in the right?”

BD suggests it’s a Jedi thing. Cal smiles. “I didn’t mean to,” he offers.

“See? There you go doing it again. Listen, kid, honestly, I wish you wouldn’t bring back stuff you find on these planets. I’m sure we can find you something during a supply run. However, I get that you like them and therefore you gotta meet me midway – keep ‘em, but clean ‘em. Properly. None of your wash your clothes while you shower or swim nonsense. And if you’re taking a breath to tell me that’s how it was done on Bracca, I do not wanna know.”

Cal breathes out and closes his mouth.

“You don’t have to live like you’re a credit away from financial ruin. We’re not multimillionaires, but we’re not broke. And if you don’t know how to use the machine, ask. I’m not gonna judge.”

“Thanks, Greez.”

“And maybe don’t stuff wet clothes into a box under your bed.”

“But – ”

“Ah! What did I say about Bracca?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Atta boy.”