#I am the one who answered you right and raised you from confusion

[misspelledwordswizard]

Can I request a Time content?

The Chaín except Time asking Reader his type or things she likes of a man. She mention some qualities but she specify "Older Man".

Time all blushing because he is in love with reader and Reader likes him too.

Time Content, yeay! I loved writing this asdfkqaj I hope you like it! <3

I like older men

— Oh, come on, you have to have a type! – Warriors exclaimed, referring to me. He’s been pestering me for a few minutes to tell me what type of man I’m attracted to. 

— I don’t think I have an exact type. – I kept giving the same answer. My taste can be quite flexible, I’d say. 

We were all around the campfire, talking, sharing stories, after the meal. The conversation was going smoothly until they got to the subject of relationships, which Sky dominated, by the way. The Captain has some experience in short-term relationships, so to speak, some of the others seem to have traumas, while the rest simply have never had anything with anyone until now, totally fair.

But, apparently, my romantic life became the central point of the entire conversation after I said I was single, and had never been seriously involved with anyone before. From what I understand, this information is somewhat shocking to them. 

— But not even some things you find attractive in men? – Wild suggested, he wasn’t helping me either. 

Unconsciously, my thoughts took me to the leader of the group, who was the only one who wasn’t bothering me with the subject. I can’t tell if it was because he was not interested in the subject or simply out of respect for my dignity. 

He didn’t even seem to be paying attention, to tell the truth. Leaning so calmly against a tree, with both eyes closed, I couldn’t even tell if he was awake. Avoiding looking at him and ending up generating comments among the heroes, I sighed and accepted my fate. Okay, I just need to wind them up. 

— Hm, let me think. – I said, raising expectations in the boys around me. – I guess we can say I like tall men. – Out of the corner of my eye, I had the impression of seeing Four wilt in his place, did he feel offended? – And strong ones too, something more natural... – I could feel my cheeks blushing. I wouldn’t mind talking about it at a sleepover with my friends, but with the men I’ve been living with for the past few months? What a nightmare. 

They remained silent, indicating that they expected more. Damn, damn gossips. 

— Well, I find light eyes attractive, I would say. And tattoos... Oh, and men who wear black, especially those tight, high-necked shirts. – Okay, I think I’m going too far. My cheeks looked like bell peppers. Oh, right, there’s one last very important one. – And, mainly, older men. 

I concluded, unable to bear all this pressure of stares while I talk about something so personal. I closed my eyes, expecting their provocative comments or something like that, but I was surprised to notice the silence that followed. Was that really that shocking? 

I opened my eyes to see their reactions, and, to my surprise, they weren’t looking at me. All eight boys looked with shock, surprise or curiosity in Time’s direction. Confused, I turned to look at him too, and, after some time processing the information, I understood the reason for their exaggerated reactions, feeling my face even hotter than before.  Time kept his eyes closed. His face, so relaxed before, was now tense, his lips pressed together in a line and his good eye closed a little tighter. What was surprising, in fact, was how rosy his cheeks were. 

In all my life, or rather, since I met him, I never thought I would see the hero of time blush. Because of me. Damn, am I not going crazy?  Well, I am definitely to blame for this, without realizing it, I ended up almost describing him in this silly joke. 

Oh man, I want to bury my face in a hole, I couldn’t have made it more obvious! Great, now I will have to deal with the provocations of this bunch of idiots. I looked away, no longer having the courage to look at him, and just accepted my cruel fate. 

— Look... – Warriors began, and I was already mentally preparing myself for the humiliation that was to come. – ... it seems that we have finally discovered the Old Man’s type as well. 

I turned my head abruptly to look at him, in time to see his eye widen and his mouth open in surprise and indignation, but nothing came out of his mouth. With his face even redder, he sighed and stood up, leaving the group in search of a moment of peace. 

These brats are still going to kill Time with these provocations, and in addition, they are going to kill me too. 

[luminousdecay]

Together forever - Illustration for a quick fiction I wrote about them

Read It on AO3

twitter / bluesky

///

A new beginning

A few moments ago everything was noises and colors, you closed your eyes and you only felt the reassuring presence in front of you, connecting from your foreheads and your hands. And then in a bursting white light, everything vanished. The nothingness is what hits you first and for a brief moment you disappear.

//

White light is piercing through your eyelids, making you get back to consciousness. You raise your hand to protect yourself from this new luminosity. You felt the grass, slightly fresh and humid against your bareback, and the sound of silence in your ears. A muffle sound of someone awaking next to you and you open your eyes. You see the hand in front of you. At first it seems it is not yours or from a distant and faded memory. Pink white skin and some iridescent volutes here and there. You quickly get out of your contemplation as another sound comes from your left. Jayce is here grumbling. You rise slowly and get on your feet, no pain, no difficulty. Your body is like your hands, pale skin and organic iridescence shapes. You take a first hesitant step before assuring your pace. You feel well, better than you've ever been, no discomfort, and you can feel much more the warmth of the sun on your skin, and the soft wind easing it.

You come closer to your partner : “Jayce ?”. He suddenly opens his eyes, a slight panic on his face. As he sees you his gaze softens and he sights : “Viktor, is that, is that you ?” There is some desperation in his look and voice. You answer, looking at your newly re acquired skin : “Yes. I guess it is me or, well, another new version of me” you smile as you are thinking about how much your appearance evolved in those past months, a true scientific case ! But him, apart from the new beard, shaggy hair and the pearlescent “crown” your hand gave him, he remains the same self, the same reassuring and glowy presence. He stands up quickly testing his bad leg, confused, but satisfied he can put weight on it.

You don’t have time to ask if everything is alright, that he is on you, embracing you. -Ah, Jayce and his constant need to touch-. You feel his warmth, it is like your new skin finally remembers what touch truly feels, and you give his hug back savouring his presence and the sensation, and he squeezes harder. After a few quiet moments he breaks the contact and takes you by the shoulders to have a better look at yourself. You felt his gaze roam over your body and as he does he smiles with disbelief in his eyes and reddish tone on his cheeks. He says, for him, in a whisper “you are beautiful” and louder “you … we are alive, in one piece and … well ?” and then proceeds to hug you once more and you can feel the laugh in his chest and your smile widening.

Suddenly he steps away looking unsure. “Well, first you probably feel the need to be a bit more … cover up ?” It is right, you are bare skin except where your blanket is attached on your shoulder. You caress it, it feels reassuring, “ I do appreciate the new sensations, or more precisely the old ones” You look at him “but yes some decency could do no harm, would you help me tie it up ?”. As you begin to unfold the fabric to put it around yourself like you did all these months before he approaches and helps you out. His touch is less confident than before and he moves delicately his hands around you. “You know Jayce, I will not break if you touch me, my condition since a few moments ago didn’t change” you say with amusement in your voice. “I know it is just that … I am still processing, and you were basically dead a few days ago and then … everything”. You catch his eyes “And who’s fault ?” your tone is mocking. He looks a bit embarrassed “Touché, but it was on your order, or another and hairier version of yourself”. You smile “I don’t think I meant to kill myself, you know talking could have been a solution”. He answers, still amused “ hey, am I the man of the action or not ?”. You both laugh, it feels good.

Elegantly covered up you look around yourself “ It is so strange, it seems that I have been there before, I have the same feeling from when I was in the arcane” you are watching at the almost endless grassy and wavy field, you spot some forest afar “but as you can see it is far more consistent” you look at your bare feet firmly grounded in the grass. Jayce is also looking around himself with a slight worry in his brows. You step forward and after a brief moment of hesitation you touch him on the shoulder. He looks at you surprised as your hand slides along his arm and your hands are joining. “Let’s go explore the world” you said facing the wilderness, and you look at him in the eyes “I can’t wait to see and experience what the possibilities in front of me have to offer” and you proceed to walk. He doesn’t immediately follow, forcing you to turn back : “Viktor I will never abandon you again” and on that you answer “I know, and you never did”. A brief moment passes and he joins you at your side, eyes glistening and a smile on his face, your hands are still firmly bonded, he adds: “Then go and I will follow”. And you both walk into this new intimidating but beautiful and quiet place.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (03)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 8.1k words (get ready for #reallove)

Aliyah's Notes: whats that one saying? rainbows before the storm or wtv tf.

You didn’t believe in hatred.

Dislike? Sure. Irritation? Absolutely. But hatred was for people with time to waste, and in your world, every second was precious. Even now, as you posed under the bright lights of your latest Chanel photoshoot, your mind wandered to the few people you disliked.

Rude stylists, overly critical photographs, maybe a couple of models who thought being catty made them superior—but hate? No, that wasn’t your style.

You were in the middle of changing poses when your phone loudly buzzed on the nearby table. You ignored it at first, moving your chin slightly as the photographer directed you. You could answer it later.

“Gorgeous, Y/N! Hold that pose… yeah, just like that!” the photographer called out, camera clicking away.

The phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. You shifted your weight to one side, flipping your hair for the next shot. But the third buzz was enough to make you sigh.

“Alright, take five!” the photographer announced, waving his assistant over.

You stepped down from the set and grabbed your phone, frowning when you saw Rafe Cameron on the screen. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swiped to answer.

“Finally answering my calls, sweetheart?” his voice came through, cocky and irritatingly smooth.

“Rafe, I’m working,” you replied, as you pulled your robe around yourself. “Not everyone gets paid to play with a ball.”

“Work, huh? I thought posing in front of a camera was more of a hobby.”

“You’re so funny,” you said flatly, glancing back at the crew who were resetting the lights. “What do you want?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I’m taking you out tonight.”

You snorted. “Excuse me? Did I miss the part where I agreed to go anywhere with you?”

“You didn’t,” he replied, completely unfazed. “That’s what I’m fixing right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, even though he couldn’t see it. “You don’t ‘fix’ things with me, Rafe. You ask, I decide.”

“Is that our dynamic?” Rafe’s tone dripped with amusement. “You sure? Because I remember you agreeing to marry me.”

“That’s business,” you shot back. “Don’t confuse it with me actually wanting to spend time with you.”

“Uh-huh,” he drawled, clearly not buying it. “Business or not, we’ve got a public to convince. Tonight, we’re making our debut as a couple. We wouldn’t want the media thinking you’re too good for me, would we?”

“I am too good for you,” you replied smoothly, your lips quirking up. “But go on.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Dinner at La Belle, 8 PM. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.”

You glanced at the time. Seriously? “Wait, how do you know where I live?”

“I have my sources. I’m a basketball player; I can afford to have a few eyes on my future wife.”

“Creep,” you mumbled, ignoring the flutter of annoyance in your stomach. “And what makes you think I’m free tonight?”

“Because you’re talking to me instead of saying no.”

“I haven’t said yes, either.”

“You will, though. I can hear it in your voice.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, a smug edge in his tone. “But I’m also persistent.”

You exhaled through your nose, staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror as the makeup artist approached with a fresh brush. The look you gave yourself was somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “Fine.”

There was a pause, and you could almost hear the smirk stretching across his lips. “See you tonight.”

Before you could respond, he hung up, leaving you scowling at the screen.

“Everything okay?” your stylist asked, glancing at your reflection with a raised brow. She has been listening in.

You plastered on a smile. “Yeah… Just…  a guy, you know.”

She snorted. “Sounds like he’s already giving you headaches.”

“Don’t even get me started.”

Your thoughts swirled as you prepared to finish the photoshoot. Rafe’s voice still rang in your eyes. Dinner at La Belle? You weren’t sure why he frustrated you so much—you weren’t like this. Being optimistic and smiley was your trademark, it was who you were, but whenever Rafe was mentioned or around he made you snappy and full of attitude… and you didn’t know why. 

Hours passed in a blur of flashing cameras and outfit changes, and soon enough, it was nearing 7:30. Maya, your stylist, was packing up the last of your things when she gave you a look. “You better get going if you’re gonna make that date.”

“You’re right,” you muttered, checking your phone for the first time in hours. “Oh my God! I have 30 minutes—I gotta go bye, Maya.”

“Bye, girl,” she laughed and waved. “I hope you get dicked—”

“Lalalalala,” you screamed and ran away.

You slipped into your black trench coat and hopped in the car. You texted Rafe.

You: “I might be late. I’m sorry.”

Rafe: “What happened?”

You: “Shooting went overtime.”

Rafe: “Okay.”

You: “You should’ve picked a later time.”

Rafe: “Just get here in one piece. I like my women alive.”

You rolled your eyes, like every time with him, but couldn’t help but smile at his sarcastic tone. You fished out your small makeup bag and quickly powdered your face, adding concealer, mascara, blush, eyeliner, and lipstick. Now, you were one step ahead—ready to slip into an outfit as soon as you got home.

The car pulled up to your apartment, and you rushed into your apartment, your heart raced. You threw open your closet, eyeing the racks of beautiful dresses, each one tempting. 

You finally chose an elegant, sleek black dress that hugged your curves flawlessly, the smooth fabric flowing over your body with a low, scooped neckline. The rich black material shimmered under the light, emphasizing your figure with every movement. In a rush, you worked mousse through your hair, then applied a smoky eye that intensified your gaze, blending shades of charcoal and bronze. The look was bold, and perfectly matched the confidence you were determined to exude tonight.

Your phone buzzed.

Rafe: “You taking too long. I’m coming up.”

A series of sharp knocks echoed through your apartment, almost making you drop your phone. You whipped your head towards the door, quickly adjusting the strap of your dress as you glanced at the clock. 8:20—fuck!

“Give me a minute!” you shouted, frantically slipping on your heels. Your heart raced as you grabbed your earrings, juggling them in your hand while heading towards the door.

When you swung it open, Rafe stood on the other side, leaning casually against the doorframe, wearing that smirk that could only belong to him. His eyes immediately swept over your figure, starting at your legs, up to your waist, your exposed breasts, and finally your face. His gaze lingered, and though he didn’t say anything, the heat in his stare would’ve given you chills down your spine.

You didn’t notice. You were too busy hesitating on what to do with your hair.

“I am not ready yet,” you groaned, stepping aside to let him in. “I got home late, and I haven’t even had time to—ugh. I knew shooting was taking some time but I didn’t think it’d be this much. I’m sorry for making you wait. I swear I’m not usually like this—I hate being late.” You didn’t pause for a breath, just rambled on as you tossed the earrings on the coffee table and made a beeline for your room.

Rafe closed the door behind him, but his attention was fixed on you. He watched as you moved, the dress hugging your ass perfectly, accentuating your hurried movements. The sight of you—flustered, elegant, and completely unaware of his gaze—only deepened the smirk on his face.

“Nice place,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. His gaze followed you down the hallway, where your bedroom was slightly ajar.

Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped through the threshold and followed you inside, finding you in your room—which was the perfect picture of chaos. Clothes were draped over the bed, shoes tossed in random covers, and a vanity table cluttered with makeup. It was the kind of organized mess that only you could make sense of.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching as you rifled through your vanity drawer for something. His eyes swept over the pastel-colored blankets and the flowery décor, stark contrasts to the girl who had been all sass and attitude with him up until now.

But he liked that. It turned him on, for some reason.

“I didn’t take you for the ‘pink floral everything’ type,” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You shot him a glance through the mirror, briefly pausing from rummaging through your drawer. “And I didn’t take you for the ‘nosy guest who barges into rooms uninvited’ type,” you quipped, raising an eyebrow back at him. Your fingers grazed over a tube of lipstick, which you quickly uncapped and re-applied.

Rafe’s smirk only widened. “What can I say? I’m a man full of surprises.”

“Yeah, well, try surprising me by sitting quietly on my bed like a normal person,” you shot back, giving your lips one final press together before throwing the lipstick into the pile of clutter on your vanity.

Rafe made a show of glancing around your room. “I think ‘normal’ left the building when I saw this,” he said, gesturing to the soft pink pillows and floral patterns that clashed with the image you projected. “Didn’t peg you for the type to have a room that looks like a rom-com set.”

You turned, finally facing him fully, one hand on your hip. “Oh, look, a creep overanalyzing a girl’s bedroom.”

Rafe chuckled. “Just making an observation. It’s cute. A little... princessy for someone who tries to pretend she’s all tough, but hey, I can roll with it.”

You tried to fight the smile threatening to creep up. “First of all, I am tough. Secondly, I like pink, sue me.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said with a wink, his voice dropping a little lower. “You look good in pink.”

You scoffed and turned back to the mirror, fiddling with your dress. “You’re insane.”

Rafe just grinned, watching you trying so hard to look occupied, clearly flustered. “Probably, but I think you like that,” he said, his tone teasing. He stepped closer, now standing right behind you. His presence was warm, and his gaze never left your reflection.

You met his eyes in the mirror, your hands faltering with your hair as his intense gaze locked onto yours. The air between you thickened just a little, but you weren’t about to give in to his charm. “I don’t like anything that involves you, Cameron,” you said, but the words lacked the bite you intended.

He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “I don’t believe you.”

The heat of his breath on your neck made your skin tingle, and for a brief second, you forgot what you were supposed to be doing. But then you snapped out of it, stepping away to grab your perfume from the vanity. “Well, believe this: we’re leaving in five minutes, and I still need to finish getting ready,” you said, your voice firm, though your cheeks betrayed you with a faint flush.

Rafe raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you finish...”

As you spritzed the perfume, you caught him eyeing you again, his gaze lingering on your tits. You couldn’t help but shake your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Eyes up here, Rafe.”

He shrugged, shameless as ever. “Can’t blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He paused for a beat, then added, “Besides, in five minutes, you’ll be mine for the night.”

You threw him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Creepy... This is just for show, remember?”

Rafe nodded, and as you finally slipped on your coat, he followed you toward the door, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, there was no hiding the smile. “Yup! Ready, Cameron.”

Rafe’s hand wrapped around your wrist just as you reached for the door, his touch firm but gentle enough to send a flicker of electricity up your arm. You turned, brow furrowed.

“What now?” you sighed, trying to sound annoyed.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. “You know what? I think we should practice.”

You blinked, trying to read his expression. “Practice?”

His gaze dipped to your lips for a split second before meeting your eyes again. “Yeah, practice… For when we’re in public,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, almost daring you to look away. “When we’re kissing… we wouldn’t want our kisses to look unconvincing, mmh?”

A laugh bubbled out of you, partly from surprise and partly to keep yourself from being completely thrown off by the heat in his stare. “You’re kidding.”

He raised an eyebrow, inching closer, the space between you shrinking until the scent of his cologne mixed with the tension already thick in the air. “Am I?” His voice was smooth, dripping with amusement, but beneath it, there was something else. Something far more dangerous.

Your breath hitched as you took a step back, your body colliding with the door. “You’re serious...”

Rafe’s smirk widened, but this time it was laced with something primal. “Yeah,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips were just a whisper away from yours. “You look so fucking good tonight, sweetheart.”

Your pulse raced, and for a split second, you considered pushing him away, but your body betrayed you. You stayed there, frozen in the moment, trapped by the intensity in his gaze, the closeness of his body.

Before you could even form a reply, he closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It wasn’t the playful, teasing peck you were expecting—it was deep, his hand sliding to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was full of fire and heat, a simmering tension that had been building between the two of you since the moment you met.

Your mind went blank, the world outside disappearing as your lips moved against his, as though you had been kissing him forever. His fingers tightened on your waist, and a low moan escaped from the back of your throat, sending a wave of warmth through your entire body.

When you finally broke apart, your chest was heaving, and you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours. You stared at him, wide-eyed, struggling to catch your breath. Rafe’s blue eyes were dark, his smile gone, replaced by a hungry look that made your stomach twist in knots.

“That was...” you trailed off, trying to find the right word. But nothing seemed to fit.

Rafe’s thumb brushed over your lower lip, wiping away some of your smeared lipstick. “For practice,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “You know… just in case.”

Your heart pounded in your ears, but your brain finally caught up. “Uh-huh,” you mumbled, still feeling the warmth of his thumb on your lip. “Just practice.”

You tried to step away, but his hand was still on your waist, holding you there, his thumb brushing the delicate skin of your hip as if testing the boundaries between you.

“You, uh…” Your voice wavered, and you blinked, trying to find something—anything—to cut through the tension. “You’ve also got lipstick all over you.”

Rafe’s lips twitched into a grin, though his eyes remained locked on yours, full of heat. “I do?”

You nodded, taking a breath to calm your racing pulse. “Here, let me…” Without thinking, you reached up and brushed your thumb across his lips, wiping away the smear of color.

It should’ve been innocent. It should’ve been nothing.

But the moment your thumb touched his lips, Rafe’s eyes darkened even more. He caught your wrist, his fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly, his gaze never leaving yours. The warmth of his skin seeped into you, and the atmosphere between you both thickened, the tension pulling tighter.

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyper aware of how close you were, how your bodies seemed to gravitate towards each other without you even realizing it. The way he was looking at you—like he wanted to devour you—it made you feel dizzy.

His voice was a low rasp when he finally spoke. “You’re killing me here.”

Your breath hitched at the huskiness in his tone, your stomach twisting with nerves and something else entirely. You tried to laugh it off, to shake the moment. “It’s just lipstick, Rafe.”

His thumb brushed over your pulse, the simplest touch sending sparks down your spine. “It’s not the lipstick,” he murmured, his eyes flicking back to your lips.

You bit the inside of your cheek, desperate to break the tension before you did something you’d regret. “You’re all cleaned up now, Romeo. We should go,” you said, your voice shaky but determined.

Rafe’s hand lingered a moment longer on your wrist, his gaze searching yours, as if considering whether or not to push further. But then he dropped your hand, stepping back with a slow, devilish grin. “Yeah,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “We should.”

You turned toward the door, your heart still racing as you tried to pull yourself together. But even as you reached for the handle, you felt his presence right behind you, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck, sending a shiver through your body.

“I like the dress, by the way,” his tone lighter now but still tinged with the lingering tension.

You glanced back at him. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Rafe chuckled, his eyes glinting as he opened the door for you. You stepped out into the hallway, your head still spinning from the kiss, from the way he looked at you, from everything. 

He followed closely behind, his presence lingering in the space around like shadows. The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and you stepped inside.

“That’s a nice place you’ve got, by the way,” he remarked, his tone casual.

You glanced at him sideways, unwilling to give him more than a passing look. “Thanks, but I’m sure you say that to all the girls you visit uninvited.”

He smiled. “Only the ones I’m marrying.”

“Look at me swooning,” you rolled your eyes as the elevator began its descent, the silence between you settling into something almost comfortable.

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped out quickly, determined to put some space between you and him. But even as you reached the front entrance of your building, Rafe was right behind you, his hand lightly brushing against your back as he guided you toward the black car waiting at the curb.

“Such a gentleman,” you whispered sarcastically.

“I try,” he shot back, opening the car door for you. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he added, “Besides, it’s part of my job as your husband to be a gentleman towards you, right?”

You slid into the car, crossing your legs as you settled into the plush leather seat. “We’re not married yet, you do know that, right?”

“But we will be, so what’s the difference?” he said, slipping into the seat next to you. His arm stretched out along the back of the seat, brushing against your shoulder.

“Well, there’s a big difference actually…” you whispered more to yourself, smoothing down your dress as you glanced out the window, trying to ignore the way his proximity made your pulse quicken.

As the car pulled away from the curb, silence filled the space between you. You weren’t sure if it was the lingering effects of the kiss or the fact that Rafe was sitting so close, but the air felt heavy, charged with something unspoken.

“So, we’re going to La Belle, huh?” you asked, breaking the quiet.

“Yeah, you ever been there before?”

You turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “The five-star restaurant in New York City where all the celebs go to get photographed? Of course, I’ve been there.”

Rafe grinned. “Perfect spot for our big debut, don’t you think?”

“You did your big one, bravo!” you nodded with a smile.

The car pulled to a stop outside of the restaurant, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of the flashing lights. Paparazzi filled the sidewalk, their cameras already trained on the car. You took a steadying breath, feeling Rafe’s eyes on you.

“Ready?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and something else—concern, maybe.

You let a truthful smile spread across your lips as you met his gaze. “Fuck yeah!”

He laughed, and for a moment, you felt his hand tighten around yours, a subtle gesture of reassurance. The car door opened, and before you could second-guess anything, you felt yourself being gently tugged out into the swirl of flashing cameras, Rafe’s hand warm and steady around yours.

“Rafe! Y/N! Over here!”

“Look this way!”

“Is she your new girlfriend?”

Questions flew around, shouted from all the angles as you made your way toward the entrance. You kept your chin up, smile fixed, the years of modeling training kicking in to keep your expression calm and collected. Meanwhile, Rafe had his arm draped around your waist, his casual confidence almost comforting.

Inside the restaurant, the lighting was dim, intimate—a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The maître led you to a private table in the back corner, and as you slid into your seat, the reality of the situation settled back in.

“I felt like I almost died out there,” you said with a laugh as you glanced at the menu.

“I thought that was fun,” he said, picking up his own menu. “them thinking you’re my girlfriend when you’re about to become my wi—”

Before he could even finish his sentence, a familiar broke through his voice. “Oh, what a surprise, Y/N.”

You froze, looking up to see none other than Alina Ivanov, her polished smile almost too bright as she approached your table. Dressed in a sleek, form-fitting red dress and with her hair swept back in a low chignon, she looked like she belonged here. And, as always, her appearance felt like a subtle reminder of the rivalry she’d always tried to stir between you.

“Alina,” you said, keeping your voice polite but cool. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Rafe’s gaze flickered between you two, sensing the tension immediately. “Friend of yours?”

Alina flashed him a charming smile before turning back to you, her expression a picture of innocence. “We’re worked together a few times,” she said, not missing a beat. “I was just so surprised to see you here. It’s not every day you bring a date to places like this… or just bring dates, period.”

You kept your smile polite, though your jaw was tight. “Unlike you, am I right?”

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment too long before shifting back to Rafe. “And who might you be?”

“Rafe Cameron,” he said, his tone smooth but his gaze sharp.

“I was joking. I know who you are, silly,” Alina said, chuckling softly. “My brothers are huge fans of yours. Always telling me how you’re the one to watch on the court.”

He offered a polite nod. “Glad to hear it.”

There was a beat of silence before Alina leaned in, her eyes glinting as she looked back at you. “So, Y/N, how’s everything going with… your work?” Her tone was light, casual, but the question felt like a dig.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Busy as ever.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” she replied, her smile widening. “Things have been so competitive lately. But I’m sure you’re managing.” She tilted her head, her expression turning almost pitying. “Just let me know if you need any tips on balancing everything. We know what happened the last time that you were too stressed.”

For the first time in a long while, she left you speechless. Words hung on your lips, but nothing came out. A slight tremor shook your body as memories flooded back. Alina mentioning that moment…it was like a punch to the gut. You’d convinced yourself everyone had forgotten, buried it in the past. But of course, she hadn’t. How could she? It was the most humiliating, traumatizing experience of your career.

Rafe noticed the shift immediately. He always looked forward to your sharp retorts, the way you never missed a beat with your quick-witted comebacks. But now? He saw something different—a rawness, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen in you before. His chest tightened, a protective instinct flaring up, urging him to shield you from the wound Alina had reopened. He didn’t know what she meant, didn’t need to know. Your face told him everything.

Before Alina could twist the knife any deeper, Rafe stepped in, his voice low but steady, the edge unmistakable.

"Seems like she’s been doing just fine on her own," he cut in, his gaze hardening. "Haven't you seen her work lately?"

His tone was firm, no hint of the usual lightness. He didn’t look at you—he didn’t need to—but you could feel the solidarity in his words, a silent reassurance that said, I’ve got you.

Alina’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, brushing off his words with a delicate laugh. “Yeah, of course! I mean, I’d be hard-pressed to miss it with her face practically everywhere.” She turned to you, her gaze sharpening just a fraction. “Lucky for you, the timing’s been in your favor, huh?”

You clenched your teeth, trying to stop the trembles in your body. “Luck had nothing to do with it.”

Her smile stretched a little too wide as she inclined her head. “Oh, I totally get it, babe. Well, enjoy your night, you two.” She cast a lingering, almost possessive look at Rafe, her gaze dragging over him as though he were something she intended to claim. “And, Rafe, it was lovely meeting you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other soon.”

Without missing a beat, Rafe’s gaze stayed anchored on you as he replied, “Doubt it.”

Alina’s expression faltered, again, before she flashed a final smile and melted back into the crowd, her perfume leaving a sickly-sweet trace in her wake. The silence that followed felt dense, almost stifling, and you could still feel the sting of her words hanging in the air like smoke. You exhaled, trying to let go of the tension that had coiled in your shoulders.

Rafe’s gaze shifted, catching yours with an intensity that softened as he studied your face. “She’s... really friendly, isn’t she?” he said with a dry chuckle.

You let out a scoff, unable to resist. “That’s one way to put it.”

Rafe smirked, his eyebrows lifting. “She always this nice?”

“Only when there’s an audience.”

Rafe’s expression shifted, his humor fading into something more thoughtful. He leaned forward, just close enough that you could catch the faint scent of his cologne, and his eyes softened as they searched yours. “If she ever gives you trouble, you let me know. I’ve got no problem shutting her up.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected note of protectiveness in his voice. The way he looked at you was something new, something unfamiliar—and it stirred something you hadn’t anticipated. “Thanks, Cameron, but I can handle the Russian princess.”

“I know you can,” he replied, his voice low, every word rich with unspoken promise. “But you’ve got a husband now to help you with these… things”

His words hung in the air, sparking a warmth in your chest that surprised you. This side of him—serious, protective, and entirely focused on you—was so different from the cocky charm he usually wore like armor. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the quiet charge humming between your gazes.

A server approached, breaking the lingering silence as they took your orders. Once they left, quiet settled between you and Rafe again, pressing down as the sounds of clinking silverware and murmured conversations filled the space around you. For a moment, you let yourself tune into the chatter of the other tables, realizing how strange it was to be here with someone you hardly knew. Sure, you knew what the media had to say about Rafe Cameron—most people did. 

You thought back to what you actually knew about him. He was 25, a talented star on an NBA team, with a cocky smile. The media painted him as the consummate playboy, a regular at exclusive clubs, and someone who, judging by the number of girls he was photographed kissing, had perfected the art of fleeting connections. And yes, the tabloids had mentioned his dreamy abs.

It was a curious thought: this man across from you was, somehow, your future husband. Yet, aside from the stories, the rumors, and those dark blue eyes that sparked whenever he looked your way, what else did you know about him? You felt a pang of embarrassment.

Maybe it was because of the arrangement, maybe it was the fleeting glances across magazine covers and sports sites, but all you truly knew about Rafe Cameron could barely fill a sentence.

Finally, you couldn’t help it, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table as you studied him. He looked too comfortable, too at ease, like he belonged here. He was the perfect enigma: superstar athlete and notorious heartbreaker, with eyes that seemed to hold every secret and none at all.

“So, um, Rafe, what do you know about me?”

He stilled, his easygoing expression faltering for a second. You’d caught him off guard. “What do I know about you?” his fingers wrapped around the glass, as he searched for your face. “I mean, I know what people say. What I’ve seen.”

You tilted your head, waiting. “Which is?”

“That you’re the golden girl, flawless. Beautiful and nice, sure, but… it’s more than that,” his eyes traced your face, almost tender, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “People can’t help but be in awe of you.”

A quiet breath escaped you, surprised by the way his words lingered, settling like an unexpected weight in your chest. Awe of you—it wasn’t something anyone had ever said to your face, and it sounded both charming and absurd coming from him. But something about the way he said it made you pause. You couldn’t tell if he was mocking you or if, perhaps, he actually meant it.

“So, I’m a tabloid fantasy, then?” you teased softly, trying to keep the edge of doubt in your voice.

He chuckled, but his gaze remained steady, as if searching for something hidden beneath your smile. “No, you’re more than that,” he murmured. “You’re the woman everyone wants to know, but it seems like nobody really does. Even some of my teammates can’t stop talking about you… some of them are practically in love with you. They think you’re beautiful and—”

“And would you agree?” you prompted, you didn’t why you asked. You didn’t care what he thought of you.

He hesitated, his eyes tracing over your features in a way that felt too intimate for someone you’d barely spent any time with. “You're not bad, but if you toned down the attitude and that smart mouth of yours, I might just find you beautiful.” You laughed and playfully flipped him off, earning a chuckle from him. But then his expression shifted, and he grew serious again. “But you’re nice, that’s what I wanted to say. Like, actually nice. Not the superficial stuff everyone says to stay in the good graces of the media… probably like that Alina girl who definitely pretends to be nice.”

You scoffed, but your heart betrayed you, thudding a little faster under his gaze. “Nice? You think I’m nice?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. His eyes moved slowly over your face, as if trying to peek back a layer, to see the person beneath the perfect photos and poised interviews. “You… you’ve got more edge than what people think, but still nice, you know.”

His confidence was intoxicating, an irresistible blend of cockiness and charm that made it nearly impossible to ignore the urge to close the distance between you and kiss him senseless. Tonight, he looked ridiculously good—his light yellow dress shirt with a crisp white collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms in a way that only made you rub your thighs together. The way his black trousers hugged his figure and the subtle shine of his shine only added to the magnetic pull drawing you towards him.

A quiet stretched between you, heavy with unspoken tension, his words lingering in the air. He leaned back just enough, his guarded expression softened by the way his gaze stayed on you. “But what about you?” he asked, voice low and smooth. “What do you know about me, baby?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, watching him with newfound curiosity. “Honestly? Not much,” you admitted. “I know you’re 25, a famous basketball star,” you narrowed your eyes, watching the way his intense gaze never wavered from you. “You’re cocky—maybe a bit too cocky sometimes—and you love pushing people’s buttons. Especially mine. You probably like it, though, huh? Seeing how we'll react.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Go on…”

“And you’re a bit of a party animal. From all the photos out there, it seems like you’ve got a new girl on your arm every week. But despite that, you’re fiercely dedicated to your sport—and you’re damn good at it. The media practically worships every move you make on the court. That’s all I have on you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a glint of intrigue in his eyes as he leaned in, again. “And what’s your conclusion?” he asked, voice lower, as if this moment was just for the two of you.

“Not much,” you replied with a slight shrug. “I don’t know anything about you, Rafe—only the version everyone else sees.”

He breathed out slowly, his expression softening as he thought about your words. “So, we’re both just media fantasies,” he said, voice a quiet murmur. His fingers brushed against yours, the contact so subtle yet electric, igniting warmth that raced up your arm and made your heart pound a little faster.

“Maybe we are…” you replied softly, glancing down at his hand resting near yours on the table, close enough to close the gap between you. “But I guess if we’re planning on getting married and all, we should probably learn a bit more about each other, don’t you think?”

“Right.” His gaze softened, and a playful gleam flickered in his eyes. “So, what do you want to know?”

You tilted your head, unable to keep the teasing edge from your voice. “Honestly? If it were up to me, I’d probably prefer not to know a thing about you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t believe no one ever warned me about that smart mouth of yours. Haven’t seen a single headline on it.”

A smirk spread across your lips. “I’m saving it for my husband,” you replied sweetly, watching his expression shift, a spark of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

“Future husband,” he corrected with a soft smile, as if savoring the words.

“Future husband, that’s right,” you nodded. “So… I guess since we’re supposed to be newly dating, we should start with the basics, right? You know, things like your favorite color, your favorite movie…”

"That makes sense. So, my favorite color’s green, but not just any green—I’m talking deep green, like the kind you see in plants," he rambled. "And I guess my favorite movie’s probably ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’—"

"Oh, my God! Liking that movie is such a douchey choice," you teased, and he laughed along.

"Alright, then—what's your favorite movie, Miss Judgey McJudgerson?"

"I'm not judging—" he shot you a look and you sighed, nodding in surrender. "Alright, fine, maybe I judged a little. But can you blame me? Anyway," you continued, a spark of excitement in your tone, "a movie I can watch on repeat? ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’. And don't even think about making fun of it, because it’s honestly a masterpiece."

He tilted his head, feigning offense. "Oh, so ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ isn’t a masterpiece? Is that what you're saying?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you leaned back. "Look, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying all the jerks are obsessed with that movie."

His smirk grew, eyes glinting with challenge. "The jerks, huh?" His brows raised, his gaze holding yours. "So, I’m a jerk?"

You shrugged with a mischievous smile. "If the shoe fits."

“So,” he said, “you’re telling me my taste in movies is a red flag?”

You smirked, meeting his gaze. “I mean, ‘The Wolf of Wall Street’ is practically a requirement for men with commitment issues. It’s the kind of movie someone watches to feel cool, you know?”

“Ouch.” He raised his glass, looking amused. “So what does ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’ say about you? That you’re a sucker for impossible relationships and grand romantic gestures?”

You feigned sigh, taking the glass of wine in your hands. “Maybe. Or maybe it just says I have taste,” you glanced at him over the rim of your glass, a smile teasing at the corners of your mouth. 

“Alright, alright. Enough on how shitty my taste in movies is,” he moved his hands dismissively. “Let’s focus on whether the ‘golden girl’ is a hopeless romantic. Are you?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“Your husband’s asking.”

You held yourself back from correcting him, and just scoffed. “I wouldn’t go that far. I just have a soft spot for movies with good storytelling, good humor, and good looking white boys.”

“You know, I might actually have a soft side for sappy movies too,” he shot back, his smile widening.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Right, and I’m the fucking queen of England.”

“What? Why? I could like them, you know.”

“Rafe, I bet you’d hate anything with a happy ending—”

“Holy shit! Rafe! My fucking dude on a date?”

The moment shattered as a voice cut through the air, loud and incredulous. Both of you turned your heads to see a tall blond guy wavering through tables with a grin as wide as the room itself.

“Topper,” Rafe muttered with a sigh and a look that bordered on agony.

“Rafe, my guy!” Topper laughed, eyes flickering between the two of you in delight. “I cannot believe my eyes. You—on a date? And with her?” He gestured to you, his excitement barely contained. “No offense, beautiful, but I thought Rafe’s only serious relationship was with basketball. You’re like a mythical creature right now.”

You fought back a laugh as Rafe shot Topper a glare, but the faint blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Top,” he sighed, “aren’t you supposed to be somewhere? Literally anywhere else?”

“Oh, hell no. This is a one-in-a-million chance. Besides, I have to see this through. Rafe Cameron actually out with a woman he didn’t meet at a club? Man, this is incredible.”

Rafe pressed his fingers to his temples, visibly restraining himself from shoving his teammate out. “I swear, I’m this close to throwing you out of here.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Topper said, clapping him on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. “Don’t be like that! I mean, I thought you were incapable of going on a real date, and here you are, actually acting all gentlemanly.” He glanced at you with a grin. “So, what’s it like dating Rafe? Has he tried any of his classic lines yet?”

You shrugged with a grin of your own. “If by classic lines, you mean being generally annoying? Then yes.”

Rafe raised his eyebrow, feigning offense. “Annoying? Really?”

“Am I wrong?” You met his gaze head-on, smirking. “Every time you speak, you’re trying to get under my skin—”

“Because I want to see what that smart mouth of yours will say back to me.”

Topper laughed, completely entertained, while you just shook your head, trying not to laugh. “So, I was right. You love riling people up just to see their reactions.”

He shook his head, eyes glinting. “Not people, sweetheart. Just you.”

Your cheeks warmed despite yourself, caught off guard by his focus. You quickly recovered, scoffing, “Oh, and that’s my cue to swoon, right?”

Rafe leaned back, his smirk victorious. “Whatever works.”

Topper threw his head back, laughing, as if he’d just won the best seat at the theater. “Oh, this is good. You guys… yeah, I’m getting popcorn next time.”

Rafe gave his friend one last pointed look, his eyes practically daring his friend to stick around. “I’m serious, Top. I’m here on an actual date, so if you want to keep your teeth intact, I’d suggest moving along.”

Topper raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning ear-to-ear. “Alrighty. But I’ve gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day you’d settle down—especially with someone who can actually keep you in line,” he gave you a wink. “Good luck, beautiful. You’ll need it with this one.”

With a final smile and a nod to you, Topper sauntered away, glancing back with an amused shake of his head as he left.

Rafe turned back to you, letting out an exasperated breath as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about him. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit.”

You grinned. “Seems like he knows you pretty well, though. I’m actually surprised he didn’t say more.”

“Top’s just not used to seeing me on a date, that’s all. He’s right, though… this isn’t my usual scene,” his eyes traced over your face, lingering on the way you smiled. “But I’m getting married, so I gotta get used to it.”

The server returned with your orders, interrupting the moment. Rafe took a bite of his food and you did the same, each of you eating in a silence as the tension between you grew stronger. Finally, he spoke.

“So, back to this hopeless romantic thing you swear you’re not,” he began, his voice light but his gaze steady. “You say you’re not, but you can’t stop watching ‘Crazy, Stupid, Love’. Are you telling me you don’t want some big, dramatic love story? A guy standing in the rain, begging for a second chance?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off, though his question struck a nerve. “I mean… who wouldn’t want that? But not everyone’s looking for a grand gesture. Some of us just want someone real.”

A flicker of something flashed in his eyes. “Real, huh? So you’re looking for real?”

“Of course. That’s all anyone really wants, right?” You felt vulnerable, caught off guard by his interest in something deeper. “But real is hard to come by… especially when you’re both in the spotlight.”

Rafe’s smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked down, almost as if he were weighing your words. When he looked back up, his expression was softer, thoughtful in a way that felt almost too intimate for a first date. “Maybe that’s something we have in common then.”

Surprised, you blinked, watching as he traced the rim of his glass absently. You hadn’t expected him to say that. The Rafe you knew from headlines and public appearances was never the reflective type. And yet, here he was, letting down his guard, even if just a tiny bit.

“So, the basketball star has a soft side?” you teased, unable to resist breaking the tension. “Who would’ve guessed?”

His lips curved into a grin, smoldering. “Don’t go spreading that around. Gotta keep some mystery.”

You both continued eating in a comfortable rhythm, making light conversation about inconsequential things—places you’d been, places you still wanted to see. Each laugh that slipped out came a little easier, every smile more relaxed as you both unwound.

As the last plates were cleared and Rafe paid, you glanced over his shoulder and noticed a familiar face in the back of the restaurant. Alina Ivanov, was seated at a nearby table, staring at you both with a smirk that sent a chill down your spine. Instinctively, you looked away, pulse spiking with a mixture of irritation and unease. It felt as though you were being watched through a magnifying glass, judged, evaluated, and silently torn apart.

Rafe’s gaze followed yours, and his hand found the small of your back as he leaned in. “Don’t mind her. Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly, his voice a reassuring warmth in the sudden chill. He guided you to the door, ignoring Alina’s gaze as he led you out into the cool night air.

Outside, the city hummed around you, and Rafe’s hand lingered at your back, grounding you. The air was a welcome relief, a quiet reprieve from the intensity of the restaurant. When you reached his car, he opened the door for you, his gaze lingering on you with an unreadable intensity before he rounded the car to the driver’s side. It was a small gesture, yet oddly grounding, as if he knew exactly when to offer support without crowding you.

(The chauffeur left and let them the car.)

The car ride was a soft blur of city lights, fading into a serene silence. You leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass against your skin as you stared at the passing streets, bright with shop lights and late-night wanderers. But your mind wandered far from New York.

You thought of home—your home country, the land you hadn’t seen in far too long. Your heart ached for the family you had left behind, a pain that had quietly settled within you. You hadn’t been the perfect daughter, nor the obedient child they had wanted, but you missed them, missed your siblings. You wondered what they’d think if they saw you now—would they be proud? Or would they find this new life of yours too far from the one you left behind?

Lost in thought, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop until Rafe’s voice broke the silence. “We’re here.”

Startled, you lifted your head, blinking as you recognized the familiar building. The faint neon sign from the bodega down the street cast a soft glow, painting the pavement in shades of blue and pink. You glanced at Rafe, his face softened in the gentle light, a calm patience in his expression as he looked at you.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly, feeling a strange reluctance to leave the moment behind.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Anytime.” The two syllables held an unspoken promise, a rare gentleness that seemed almost out of place for him. He paused, watching you as if he wanted to say something more, but he merely gave a slight nod, lips curling in a faint smile.

You reached for the door, but his voice made you pause. “Hey.”

You turned, finding his face close, the space between you shrinking as his fingers brushed lightly against your cheek, catching you by surprise. His touch was soft, his thumb grazing over your cheekbone with an unexpected tenderness. His hand lingered, and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek—a feather-light touch that sent warmth spiraling through you.

The kiss lasted just a moment, yet it was enough to make your heart race, to make you painfully aware of every point of contact. His breath fanned across your skin, and you could feel the faint scratch of stubble against your cheek. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, the usual cockiness tempered with something softer, something far more real.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, a small smile ghosting his lips.

You smiled, trying to keep your composure. “Goodnight, Cameron,” you managed, feeling the warmth still lingering on your cheek, the phantom sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin.

As you stepped out of the car, you looked back once more to see him watching you, that familiar smirk playing on his lips but softened by something else, something deeper you couldn’t place. You gave a small wave, trying not to overthink the moment as he pulled away, leaving you standing in the quiet night, the warmth of his kiss still lingering on your skin.

chapter four

[notafunkiller]

out of style

Summary: A year after your divorce, you and Bucky come face to face at your closest friends' wedding. Emotions run high, leading to a fiery confrontation that takes a detour to Bucky's hotel room, where the old flame might just reignite.

Pairing: ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, oral séx, no condom (but f is on birth control), language, a little alcohol, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 7.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

What an ass... He has no shame at all. And the worst part? You’re still somehow surprised by it. As if you haven’t known him for years.

You look away, making sure to take a sip from your wine before focusing on the conversation again. It’s Nat’s big day, and you’re so happy for her, but listening to this story for the seventh time is exhausting. Same reactions, too: “Wow, he’s so well trained.” or “The wedding bands didn’t fall even once. Enzo is fantastic.” He’s a trained dog, you don’t get why they’re so fucking impressed.

You give Nat a smile before you excuse yourself to go to the bar. Maybe you should get a cocktail, the wine tastes terrible. On the way, you notice Steve talking to Miss Sunshine in the right corner, and you just nod toward him politely, trying to look unbothered. It’s his best friend’s girlfriend after all. What did you expect? Plus, maybe it’s just a polite conversation.

“A Sex on the Beach, please,” you murmur to the bartender.

“Vodka so early?”

You turn your head with a sigh just to see a guy you recognize from Nat’s engagement party. A fresh haircut, a simple suit and wandering eyes.

“Is there a time limit for a cocktail?” you respond, rolling your eyes when you notice he is still fixated on your chest.

He immediately raises his hands in defense as he takes a seat next to you.

God, if you hate one thing about being single besides the lack of sex is this… needing to deal with those men. It was perfect when Bucky used to take care of them.

“I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart.” You scrunch your nose instantly. God no!

“Here you go!” The bartender places the glass gently in front of you, and you’ve never been more grateful to see her.

“Thank you!” You smile before taking a huge sip, hoping it will turn him off and make him get away.

“A vodka tonic for me.” His tone is commanding, and you try not to roll your eyes again as he leans in closer. “We’re matching.”

“Huh?” You choke.

“Vodka lovers.”

Alright, time to get out of here!

You quickly grab your glass and stand up, making sure to fix your dress just in case, but his eyes are already on your breasts again. For fuck’s sake! How is he Steve’s cousin?

And talking about Steve, you almost jump when you hear him saying your name.

“Hey.” You’ve never been happier to see him.

You can’t say the same thing about his friend, who’s right next to him, looking the creepy blondie up and down.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks with obvious concern.  “Do you feel okay?”

“Hey, man! The food is great and the company even better. Look at her, such an eye candy, am I right?” He chuckles at his own disgusting comment. “I mean, you’re married. Don’t answer that, I don’t want Romanoff on my back.” And after all of this, he has the audacity to wink at Steve. But before you can throw your cocktail over his shirt and make a scene, Bucky’s already getting in front of you, blocking your view with his huge back.

“If you want to keep your teeth, get the fuck out of here and never, ever get even within three feet of my wife. Am I fucking clear?”

His tone is so cold, harsh, and arrogant at the same time, but also so possessive. It surprises both: you and Steve, because he immediately looks at you confused before dropping his eyes on your hand.

He must be looking for a ring.

God, you never hated Bucky more than when you see blondie standing up and going straight outside just like that. It makes you even angrier because it’s always a man who has to explain the obvious signs to these assholes so they leave. You say no? You are playing hard to get. You are with a man? Then it’s all off-limits.

You sip your cocktail with frustration, the taste of vodka lingering on your tongue.

Then, you take a step toward Bucky, grabbing his arm and turning him so he can face you. “Listen and listen good, I’m not your wife and I don’t need you to play the macho hero! I can handle myself, so back off!” You wanted to leave after saying this, but the way he looks at you makes you change your mind. His eyes softened, showing a trace of your old Bucky, and it only pisses you off more. He labeled you just like that... “I divorced you for a reason, I’m not your property or responsibility. Stay out of my fucking business or I’ll show you exactly how well I can take care of myself!”

You hand him your half-full glass and storm out, seeing red. Or well, blue.

You anticipated that he’d come after you, of course you did. You know him, as much as you hate to admit. You still know him well. Too well.

And when you hear his sigh behind you, you don’t jump.

“You can handle yourself, but he was all over you. Sorry for being a gentleman.” He apologizes sarcastically. “I guess old habits die hard.”

“Too bad, Barnes! I am not your little wife. I am not your girlfriend. I am not even your friend.” You turn your head to look at him as he’s standing on the other side of the balcony. “And I am not that flavor of the month of yours, you have to kill these habits.”

He raises his head. “Flavor of the month?”

“Yeah, your plus one. You know, you should take care of her instead of trying to play hero and calling me your wife.”

“Keeping an eye on me? He smirks. “Thought you divorced me for a reason.”

Fuck him! He thinks he got you... “I did! You couldn’t open your mouth to say what bothers you, remember?”

“Well, I opened my mouth to do something else, far more exciting.”

You gasp, incredulous at his audacity.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, walking toward him. “Seriously!”

“What is wrong with me? You tell me! You divorced me for a reason.”

“Don’t you have someone else to bother? Fuck off already, Bucky!”

“You got angrier with me now than back there with him. Unbelievable!” He shakes his head.

You take a deep breath, trying not to have a crisis. You are not gonna let him get to you. “Look, can you just pretend this didn’t happen?”

He instantly looks at you shocked as he leans in. “This as in,” he waves between you two. “Our marriage? You think I can pretend our marriage never happened?” His voice grew louder, his words punctuated by sharp, angry inflections. “You think just because we divorced, you get to ask me that? How can you...”

You’re taken completely aback by his whole attitude, and it’s like you’re back in time at your wedding as he made you sneak out so he can make you come on his tongue after saying all sorts of things.

You don’t know why you suddenly remembered that, but you need to snap out of it.

“I meant the whole interaction, you annoying man!”

“How was I supposed to know?” He looks much more relaxed now, though, and before you can think about it, you’re poking his chest.

“Why would I tell you to forget about our marriage, Bucky?” You smile. “You are more than free to think about me as you fuck your little flavor of the month. I am not gonna stop that.”

You see his eyebrows raise instantly as his gaze drops to your finger. “My little flavor of the month? How many times did you think about me fucking her?” His hand finds your wrist. “Did you wonder if I’m fucking her from behind as I choke her? Did you imagine me coming all over her tits? Did you-”

You grab his cheeks, just the way he likes it, to stop him.

“You think I have nothing better to think about? I have my own dicks that occupy my thoughts,” you lie through your teeth, and he knows it. God, he knows it as he chuckles right away.

“What’s so funny, Barnes?” You let go, expecting him to do the same, but he’s still holding your other wrist.

“You have no dick to think about. I know you broke up with your last flavor of the month, honey.”

He knows how much you hate being mocked with the word honey, but you bite the inside of your cheeks. “It’s funny really,” you fake giggle, looking up at him. “You assume I don’t have someone already. Maybe I’m just enjoying my life after our divorce... new dick every month since I am a free woman. I don’t even need something serious. You know how much I love sex.”

His smile immediately drops, his face reddening.

“You are absolutely infuriating!” Even his tone carries a sense of irritation.

“Aww, what happened?”

It’s his turn to grab your face, making you gasp. You don’t remember the last time he touched you, and you’re shivering.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, and you know it!”

“I don’t play games, Bucky, that is your specialty.” You smile, trying to maintain your composure. “Now let me go and get back to your little girlfriend. You can be mad about how many dicks she thinks about.”

“You can’t do the whole non-attachment shit. I know you well, don’t forget that. You’re my...” He talks so fast you’re surprised he stopped. You know what he was gonna say, of course you know. The audacity!

“I am not your wife, Bucky. You literally have a woman with you here tonight. We divorced, we live in separate places, and we fuck different people.”

“Who are you fucking, huh?” He almost spits the last words. “Tell me! Nat said you’re single.”

“You’ve been asking Nat about my personal life?” And she is spilling to him? No way.

“Fuck...” he frowns, dropping his hand from your face. “No.”

“Steve!” You realize. “God, this is pathetic! Why do you keep tabs on me, huh? Can’t you just mind your own business? Is your life goal to piss me off?”

“I’m not the one calling Jessica the flavor of the month.”

“Ha!” You laugh in his face. “Well, you have no success in getting a girlfriend. And they all look pretty familiar.” You can’t hide the venom in your voice. “The differences are they’re just taller and with less in the chest department. Quite interesting, don’t you think?”

“So you’re keeping tabs on me too!”

“You flatter yourself. It’s quite obvious, look at Jessica. Does she know you were married to me? Does she beg you to fuck her mouth? Does she...” You take a deep breath. “Does she call you daddy, James? Does she ride you until you lose control and turn her on her back so you can pound her?” You don’t care anymore. Right or wrong, you’re gonna let it all out. “Do you praise her? Tell her how wet she is for you? How your cock is made for her? Do you... do you tell her you love her while she’s coming? Do you fucking call her your good girl?”

“Jesus-” You don’t let him continue his sentence, interrupting him.

“Does she take you like I did? Does she beg for you because she feels empty, James? Does she? Did any of them?”

“Stop. It.”

“Why? You didn’t stop!”

He sighs, reaching out to grab your cheeks gently. “No one does, are you happy? I don’t even fucking try. I don’t let anyone call me daddy, I don’t choke anyone and I definitely don’t fuck anyone like I fucked you. Are you happy? Seeing me miserable and pathetic? Are you enjoying it?”

You can’t deny the satisfaction and relief you feel when you hear that. Dating post-him was a very bad experience overall, so him not upgrading, indeed, in any way, makes you feel victorious. At least, you’re both suffering.

“Yeah, I actually enjoy that.”

“What about you?” He snaps. “Do you do all of that?”

“I don’t want to be called daddy, James.”

“You know exactly what I meant! You call those losers daddy? You choke around their cocks? Do you beg for their small dicks to go deeper and finish yourself off after it?”

“Like I begged for your small dick?” You ask annoyed, knowing how dumb this lie is, but what else can you say? No one compares to him and never will.

His response shocks you as he reaches down to the zipper of his worn jeans and pulls it down.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Wanted to, you know… give you more mocking material in case you forgot how small it is.”

You have to think twice about what to say because the first thought was: I have enough videos, thanks. But you can’t. You can’t expose yourself like that.

“James, what the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?”

“With my small dick?”

You look away for a few seconds, not wanting him to read you. “Why are you doing this? We divorced, you’re seeing someone, I’m good by myself... just let it go.”

He smiles at that, and you realize you indirectly told him you are indeed not fucking anyone.

“Why would I let go of my wife?”

You’re slapping his chest before you realize what you’re doing. “Stop this, Bucky! Just fucking stop.”

He’s hurting you, how can he not see that?

“You said you divorced me for a reason. You said...” he pauses. “You ordered me to leave you alone. Well, what if I don’t want to?”

“What are you, a fucking stalker?”

“No!” He almost screams. “I am fucking in love with you, you infuriating woman!”

“W-what?”

He can’t be joking about this, can he? He is not cruel. He is not vile. This isn’t a game.

“I’m in love with you. I love you. You own me... you fucking control me.”

“How?”

He laughs hysterically, running his hands through his hair before pulling. “I am fucking obsessed with you: how you are, if you’re doing well, if you miss me, if you’re fucking someone else, if your date went great, if you regret being with me, if someone else makes you smile wider. I dream about you, I am so miserable I couldn’t be with anyone. With Mia it lasted a month. I wasn’t... I wasn’t okay. I am not okay.”

You look at him, waiting for more. “Go on and zip your jeans, we’re in public.” You  watch him quickly do what you demand before you continue. “And what about Jessica tonight? Or Alexa a month ago? Why are you lying to me?”

“It’s not real. Jessica... I was just trying to make you jealous, okay? I was sneaking looks all night, have you not noticed at all?”

You don’t smile, despite your huge instinct to. Instead, you cross your arms, watching him drop his gaze straight to your boobs.

“Why would I notice, James?”

“Well, how did you notice Jessica looking a little like you, that she’s with me here?”

Fair point...

“Just...” You’re suddenly gripped by this crazy urge to just fuck him right here. You even regret telling him to zip back up. You could have just lifted your dress as he lowered his briefs and took out his cock. And just like that, you could have just fucked against the wall or something. You would have let him rip off your panties too. You just need his cock so badly! “Shut the fuck up!” You snap, grabbing him by his neck so he can lean in enough for you to be able to kiss him. And oh, you kiss him!

You don’t have to fight to dominate the kiss, surprisingly, because he lets you. He lets you bite his lip and almost draw blood, he lets you unzip his pants again and push down his unfit-for-a-wedding jacket, and most importantly, he lets you be his again, as pathetic as that might sound. You feel him emotionally, not just physically.

Without wasting more time, you drop to your knees, making sure only your dress and shoes touch the floor directly. You drag down his pants and briefs at the same time from your position, and he looks at you surprised.

“I thought we’re in public and you were fucking some-” his words die as you bring your tongue to the head of his cock, tasting the precum, but not sucking even a little bit.

“Weren’t you saying something?” You tuck your hair strands behind your ears as you mock him. You love being on your knees for Bucky. He has this dominant energy, but he always makes you feel in power even when he fuck your mouth. And you enjoy it, you feed on it. One of the reasons you missed him so much. And he can take mocking. “Please go on. I am all ears.” You breathe out on his dick. “And tongue.”

“Oh god,” Bucky’s voice is a moan at this point, and you laugh. So easy...

“I’m your god now? Aww! Come on, do I have to do everything tonight?”

He looks down at you confused. His blue eyes are almost grey, and you know he’s on cloud nine already just because you’re there.

“What?”

“Oh, you need translation. Well,” it’s all you say before wrapping your lips around his dick and using both of your hands to push him as deep as he can go inside your mouth. He moans at the same time you gag, and his balls slap you in the face. He instinctively looks at you to ask if you’re okay, but you are more than okay. You are fucking alive. You encourage him to fuck your throat at this point by squeezing his ass cheeks and touching his balls.

“God, look at you! That pretty black dress…” He pulls out and back in not as forcefully as he can, but enough to make you start tearing up quickly. “On your knees for your man. That mouth!”

You find yourself moaning at the feel of his fingers grasping and tugging at your hair. Jesus, how you missed this...

“You have the sweetest mouth.” Does he even realize what he’s mumbling? “I could die right here. Right now,” he says and thrusts harder, which makes you close your eyes. You can barely see anything because of the tears, and he’s already close. “My pretty baby, my fucking girl.”

You’re getting wetter and wetter the more he talks, and it’s crazy. You’re cold and your jaw is hurting, yet you love this.

“Not caring if someone can catch us, just making sure you mark me again. God, I'm gonna come, baby. Gonna... should I p-pull-”

You don’t let him finish his sentence as you grab his ass to make sure you keep him there, in your throat, as he comes while moaning your name.

When he finishes, he immediately helps you stand up, before he kisses you desperately, his tongue immediately licking your bottom lip to get access. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. You moan in the middle of the kiss because his semi-hard cock is right where you need it, and it’s like torture...

“Need to taste you, okay, baby?” He asks with so much need in his voice. He sounds so whipped. “Need my pussy. Can I take you to my room?”

That is perfect, a dream at this point. But you need to make him a little more desperate.

“But the wedding… They would kill us.”

“I am sure you care sooooo much about this wedding and Nat’s stories. More than about getting my tongue on that pretty clit of yours and making you come all over my face.”

You can’t hold back your laughter.

“Fair point, Mr. Barnes. I deserve my orgasms, especially after listening to you pathetically trying to seduce me by admitting how desperate you are.”

“You dropped to your knees on this balcony just to mark my cock as yours.”

You pull his hair a little. “You said it yourself, it's already mine. Now get that ugly jacket and carry me.”

Bucky snorts, kissing your cheek. “You bought me that ugly jacket.”

“I know.”

*

You don’t know where you left your phone and even though you should feel panicked, you don’t. All you can focus on is Bucky taking off your dress and groaning at the sight of your cups. You couldn’t wear a full bra, so you improvised. They could barely hold your breasts, but no nipples showing? Win.

“Hurry up!”

“Jesus,” he moans and reaches for your cups. Desperate man... you roll your eyes, but let him uncover your breasts and grab them into his hands eagerly. He’s not just holding them, he looks and touches them as if he’s never seen boobs in his entire life, let alone yours.

“James...” You sigh, throwing your head back in pleasure when he finally gets your nipple into his mouth. Your hand finds his hair instantly, and you watch him suck happily while playing with your other nipple.

“You’re quite hungry,” you say with a smile, stroking his hair. You missed this so much. His need to always touch or sleep on your boobs, the way he grabs them while he’s pounding you... You shiver in anticipation when he switches to the other tit.

“Fucking shit, I missed them so much.”

You snort. “My boobs?”

“Mine.” He’s not sucking anymore, he’s eating them, shocking you.

“H-hold on a second, Bucky. They’re breasts, not my clit.”

“It’s been a year, love. Let me get my fill. I died without them. Died!”

As much as you wanted to think only about the part he missed your boobs, you can’t help the jealousy that clouds your mind. You were divorced, yet the image of him sucking someone else’s tits makes you want to hit a wall. Mia all over him... You pull his hair angrily. “You surely had other tits in your mouth, Bucky, for the past year. Don’t pretend this is any different.”

He immediately stops sucking. “You... you can’t believe this. Tell me you don’t believe this.”

You look away, too proud to face him. “What am I supposed to believe, huh? It’s been one fucking year.”

“I’ve been yours this whole year. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking my fist while watching... our videos, as fucked up as it might be. I tried to date, but I failed, and trust me, it has nothing to do with the size of my dick and my age. No one is you. No one smells like you or talks like you. No one is my brat with the god complex.”

“God complex?” You raise your eyebrow, keeping your face straight. “Fuck you.”

“I will fuck it out of you as I usually do, don’t worry.”

“Then why does it keep coming back?”

He chuckles. “Because you want to get fucked all the goddamn time.”

“Like you don’t!” You puff. “Come on, I breathe in your direction and you get hard, Bucky.”

“Did you see yourself? Did you have sex with yourself? You cannot judge me!” He grabs your breasts again. “There is no comparison, okay? You have no rival. Never did, never will.”

“That’s all?” You puff, amused. “My looks?”

“Do I even have to say… Your god complex exists for a fucking reason. You’re the smartest, most sarcastic, and feistiest person I’ll ever meet. One mocking comment, and you know how I get.”

“Pathetic?” You mock him on purpose just to get the reaction he is talking about. You love it when he compliments you.

“Is this why you divorced me? Cause I am a pathetic son of a bitch?”

You  take a deep breath. “I divorced you because you refused to communicate properly with me anymore, and you know it.”

“So not because of my small dick, either,” he remarks, making you roll your eyes.

“No, your small dick is one of the reasons I am here.”

Bucky dramatically touches his heart. “So you’re using me for my sex skills!”

“As if you don’t beg me to use you. Come on, put that mouth to good use before Nat comes after us.”

He doesn’t disappoint as he finally rips your underwear off, just like you fantasized about, and you use this as the perfect opportunity to fish for more.

“What happened, Jamie? So eager. Aren’t you a little good-”

The word boy comes out as a moan when you feel his index finger curled up inside you suddenly.

“What happened, honey? Too big for you?”

“Dick!”

“You’ll get that. I just need to erase the memories of having little pencils in here. That must have been traumatic.”

“You’re such a jerk!” You snort, but he’s right. It was really bad.

Bucky shrugs, finally kneeling properly between your legs before lifting them on his shoulders. God, yes!

“Gonna give my pussy some loving.”

“D-didn’t know you have a pussy, James.”

He smiles against your inner thigh. “I certainly keep what I lick.”

“Eww, what the fuck.”

He snorts, kissing your slit. “I am joking, baby. Tried to imitate one of those dicks you thought you could replace me with.”

Petty fucking bitch! You grab him by his hair and push him closer to your pussy.

“Shut the fuck up and eat!”

His tongue feels like heaven, indeed, on your clit. You’ve lost count of how many times you remembered him eating you out so you can come this year. He's just so good at eating your pussy.

You let out a satisfied sigh when he adds a second finger. You start to feel like before… like you and Bucky are still married and with no problem. Like you're happy. He makes you so happy. Made.

So you stare at his hair and stroke it as he sucks on your clit, completely squashed between your thighs, and try to hold back your tears.

When he adds his third finger and starts tracing eight figures on your clit with his tongue before he flattens it, you know you’re about to come.

There is something about the way he always manages to make you vulnerable even if it’s not intentional, to cut you open and get in... and you don’t want it to be over. You can’t let him go again after tonight. You’d suffocate.

Your efforts to delay your orgasm and not tear up are futile because when he sucks a little harder, you come and start sobbing somehow. The orgasm is strong and even though you’d want to watch Bucky, you close your eyes, letting yourself go, and shut your mind down for a second. Everything feels so overwhelming. So amplified…

You’re grateful he doesn’t stop fucking you with his fingers, either, even though you felt him hesitating when he heard you crying. You really needed this.

As soon as you finish, you drop your legs, furiously trying to wipe your face. He knows the difference between crying because of a crazy orgasm and you being emotional. He instantly gets back on the bed next to you and pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve had in two years.

“God, I’m...” You don’t know how to continue this phrase. You should not feel sorry for crying and you’re not pathetic for it. “I m-missed you so much, Bucky. Why did you give up?”

You feel his warm breath on your forehead. “I never gave up, baby, I swear.”

“B-but you did. You didn’t even try for more than six months. When I told you...” You take a deep breath. “That I want a divorce, you didn’t even look at me. Once, Bucky! Not even once…” You show him your index finger. “You simply agreed. You gave up on us. I was waiting for you to say: no, let’s try. No, I’ll communicate. Your words...” You sob. “Your words would have been enough for me. You should know that.”

“Oh my god, baby, please, breathe!” He kisses your forehead over and over again. “I never gave up, I swear. I wanted to say no, I wanted to tell you all of that, but you asked me for divorce. It felt like you wanted out. You were tired of fighting... you were tired of me. And I didn’t want to tell you to stay just so you could either stay with me out of pity or reject me. I would have died... To look at you and beg, and to see you detached.”

You shake your head into the crook of his neck. He cannot...

“How would I be detached if I tried for six months? How would I get tired of you?”

“Exactly. You tried for six months. I thought you snapped out of it...”

“Out of what?” You whisper, scared to say it louder, but he hears you anyway.

“Out of love.”

You immediately lift your head to look at him. He’s crying, too. “Bucky...” You bring your fingers to his cheeks and start to caress them.

“I just couldn’t remember us like this. I couldn’t look into your eyes and see you staring at me like I’m a stranger.”

“Jesus Christ, when did we fail to communicate this much?”

He knows you don’t expect an actual answer, so instead of speaking, he holds you, and kisses you, and makes you giggle.

The more you move into his lap, the better you feel his erection pressing against your pussy. So close, yet so far.

He groans, placing his hands on your hips. “Careful.”

“Well, I don’t want you to be careful. I want you to fuck me raw right now.”

“Right now? He snorts, using his position to his advantage and moving. And just like that, you’re suddenly pressed with your back against the bed, and his mouth covers the valley between your breasts. That didn’t take a lot of convincing.

“Did you fuck anyone else without protection?” You ask unsure how to formulate it without it sounding a little weird. You’re not even sure you want to know the answer if it’s positive, but still.

“No. Only condoms and well... to be honest more my fist,” he chuckles, helping you get on your back again by bringing a pillow under your head. “I tested myself, of course.”

You nod, trying to hide your happiness. You selfishly wanted this: no one but you to feel him without any barrier.

“Good.”

“What about you?”

“No one for me, either.”

You would laugh at his proud face if you didn’t know he might use it to tease you later. You can use it too, though.

“Come on, baby, spread your legs for me. Daddy’s home.”

You laugh surprised, but you do what he says. You really missed having him between your legs.

Needy, you reach for his T-shirt, that for some reason is still on, and you tug it down, showing him you want it off.

He hesitates for a couple of seconds too long before grabbing his T-shirt by the neck.

“Come on, what did you do? Got a tattoo?”

You get your answer as soon as he’s finally naked.

“Oh, God!” You instantly lift your hand so you can grab his necklace. “What the fuck, James...”

“I told you I never gave up on us.”

“So you’re telling me you’ve been keeping it on since we divorced?”

He blushes, looking away. “Yeah.”

“Even when you were with other girls?”

Your heart is racing.

“Never took it off.”

You giggle, touching the surface of the ring over and over again.

“No wonder why nothing worked.”

“I had no intention to make it work.”

You say nothing, just looking into his eyes and letting him see how fucking much you love him, how he could never be a stranger, and you kiss him, wrapping your legs around his ass to show him what you need.

“I want you to pound me, okay? I want to feel you for days, do you hear me? I am so wet and ready. Please, just fuck me!”

You shiver a little when you feel the back of his hand brushing against your clit while he brings his cock to your entrance.

“Gonna make you mine again, alright? Gonna make you forget this year and everyone who,” He finally thrusts inside you. “Tried to get you.”

He’s thick. Really thick, and you can’t believe how you managed to survive without this stretched-out feeling for a whole fucking year.

“I hate you so much!’

He snorts. “I am pretty sure you love me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have my cock inside you after one year.”

“This is the problem!” You hiss when he pulls almost completely out. “One year, Bucky!”

“Aww!” He says a bit mockingly before thrusting all the way in again. Oh my God... you close your eyes. “Is this your bratty way of telling me you missed my small dick?”

“Bratty? You think this is bratty?” You ask him sarcastically before bringing a hand to his ass. “Harder!”

“Harder, huh?” He quickly unwraps your legs and turns you on your belly before you can react.

You gasp, shocked by how fast he is and hating the emptiness, but he ignores it, bringing a pillow under your pussy.

“Ass in the air, come on.”

You comply immediately, staring at his face from the side. He looks like he’s on a mission, with his hair already in all directions and the wedding band hanging around his neck.

The first thing you feel is his mouth on your ass cheek, licking on a spot before biting.

You hiss. “James!” It hurts, not more than a spanking, but you weren’t ready for that.

“Mine.”

You snort, wiggling your ass. “Yeah, yeah. Now gimme my cock.”

And he does. He so does, he’s not slowly entering you, no. He pushes in almost fully with only one thrust, making you bite into your pillow.

“You missed that, didn’t you? The way I fill you up is so good. The way...” He slaps your ass. “No one can make you feel so good. No one can fuck you like the desperate whore you are for my cock.”

You moan loudly into the pillow. You love being called a whore like this. Because he is right and he is obsessed with it, anyway. “B-Bucky...”

“Tell me whose cock you love? Tell me.”

He’s thrusting so fast at this point that you can barely even hear him.

“Bucky.”

“No, no, no. That is not what you call me like this.”

“James...”

He suddenly stops thrusting, and you whine, lifting your spinning head to look at him over your shoulder. No matter how much you try to tilt your hips to make him move, you fail.

“If you want to get fucked, baby, you gotta call me the right-”

“Daddy. Daddy, daddy. Happy now?”

He rolls his eyes, obviously not that happy with your tone.

You smirk.

“I see you need a lot of battiness fucked out of you.”

“Then why are you not fucking me, daddy?”

“Oh, goddamn it!” He’s not holding back now, moving like he used to. “Tell me, baby. Tell me you love me... that no one, fuck- no one is like me!”

His voice tinges with a hint of neediness... maybe even urge. His vulnerability takes you a little aback because it’s stronger than his mocking. He’s genuinely seeking for reassurance as he gazes at you with a mixture of desire, desperation and longing. He’s searching for validation in your eyes the way you were earlier, so you give it to him.

“You’re the only one for me, J-James. I love you forever. I never... I n-never stopped!” You can’t keep your head up a second longer as you drop it on your pillow, moaning.

“We’re getting married tomorrow.”

You half-snort, half-moan. “W-we can’t.”

“We can.” The sound of his balls slapping against your pussy almost covers the sound of his voice.

“We... we have to apply first.”

He spanks your ass again, and you scream, the sudden pain making you feel so good.

“So wet for me. They stood no chance. T-they don’t know how hard you want it.”

“Daddy, please... Please!” You’re a moaning mess. You just need a little harder. Just a little.

You’re not sure if you’re gonna have a voice after this. He’s pounding you so hard.

“My good, good girl.” He’s squeezing your hips, and the sound of your skin slapping is echoing. “God, gonna come for me? Jesus, wanna fill you up with my come too. Please, baby.”

You don’t know when or how he manages to do it, but he sneaks one of his hands under your body and pinches your nipple. You gasp, the wave of pleasure hitting you as he keeps fucking you. You feel your body weakening when he says your name over andl over again, but you don’t open your eyes for a while, letting him fuck you desperately while playing with your breast.

“Gonna- fuck, take my come, wife! Take me!”

He’s coming so much... surprisingly much even for him. You can feel him dripping down your thighs even when he slows down, then stops his movements before he falls on top of you as soon as he finishes.

“James...” You groan. “You’re heavy.”

He places a small kiss on your back, and you giggle.

“I love you.”

You melt, but he moves to the side before you can reach for his cheeks.

“I love you, too.” You kiss him. “So much that I let you drag me out of my best friend’s wedding reception.”

Bucky snorts, brushing his nose against your face. “Pretend all you want, I know you were bored as fuck.” You feel him slowly pulling out of you, and you whine. It’s a little uncomfortable. “Sorry, wifey.”

“I’m not your wife yet.”

“Yet, but you were and you will be again this week.” He takes your ring finger into his mouth.

“Bucky!”

“What? We need new rings.”

You try to pull out your finger. “No, we don’t. I have mine.”

“We need...”

“How about we use all that money for a vacation instead?”

“Neah, honeymoon is honeymoon.”

He finally lets your finger go. “We are not buying other wedding bands.”

“I am not debating a new engagement ring, though.”

You roll your eyes, but you know it’s the best deal you can get.

“Fine, a new engagement ring,” you agree while rolling ro his side and placing your head on his chest. “I don’t wanna move.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

You decide to surprise him by biting a spot right above his nipple. He groans while you simply laugh.

“You just can’t be subtle, can you?”

“If you’d wanted subtle you’d have gone for someone like Steve.”

“Eww, Bucky. I have your come dripping out of me and you bring up Steve?”

“You literally talked about Nat a sec ago.”

Then, as if a switch was flipped, your eyes widen. “Oh shit, my phone!”

“Where did you forget it?” Bucky asks casually, so used to gathering your things for you. You really missed that, too.

“Table. God... Do you think they know?”

“Know what?” He giggles, raising both of you until your backs touch the headboard. “That you dropped on your knees in the middle of the wedding to suck my cock? Or how I fucked you raw until you cried.” A sudden realization crosses his face. “You asked me to fuck you raw. Are you... still on the pill?”

You roll your eyes. “You think I’d let you fuck me like this for the first time we talked to each other properly since we divorced if there was a big chance to get pregnant?”

“I assume you are still on the pill, don’t be patronizing!” He kisses your nose, which he knows tickles you.

Ass...

“You are asking a dumb question instead of getting your ass downstairs to bring me my phone.”

“How is that dumb? I wanted to know if I should get you a pill or something.”

“So you don’t want babies with me!” You try not to laugh as you say it, biting your lip to keep your face serious.

“Why do you act as if I told you I don’t want a baby with you?” He chuckles when he sees you pouting. “We’re just getting back together and no way you’d want a baby now. But if I am wrong, let’s go for it. I can give you a baby, just get off the pills.”

“You don’t give me a baby, James. We have a baby together!”

He sighs, getting off the bed to get his clothes back on. “Obviously, but I am the one coming inside you. This is what I meant. I am all in. But we need some adapting time at least.”

You should stop this whole teasing-testing thing. You both have the same opinion after all. You might have a baby, and you know he’d be involved one hundred percent, but not now. Absolutely not.

“I know. Thanks for asking.”

“You’re such a tease.” He snorts, putting on his pants. “Before I go, do you want me to run you a bath or should I bring you a towel?”

“Do you plan on staying there?”

He turns his head to you instantly. “Yeah, sure. I am gonna eat some steak and brag about fucking my wife.”

“Alright, alright. Bring me a snack and we can take a bath together. Actually,” you think about it better. “I’m gonna clean up and wait for you.”

“You want me to fuck you again, don’t you?” He asks as he fixes his jacket.

“Why? Is this all you could give me?”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Sure.” You spread your legs at the same time you grab your own breasts, making him groan. It’s so easy to get to him. And it’s hilarious.

“Jesus, you’re planning to kill me.”

“Not you acting as if it’s the first time this happened.”

“It is the first time in over a year, baby.”

You feel yourself softening again. “True. Now, please, please, please, don’t give them any details and bring me a snack.”

“What snack?”

“Anything, make me a plate, I don’t care.” He nods before reaching for the keys. “Oh, and Bucky? Tell your flavor of the month you don’t need her anymore.”

“I told you she is not-”

“And tell Nat I’ll make it up to her!” You interrupt him before he can finish his sentence. You don’t need him to defend a random girl’s honor.

“You’re so jealous.”

“Lock the door!”

You giggle satisfied when he closes the door and let yourself scream out of happiness while staring at the bite he left on your ring finger. Mrs. Barnes never got out of style.

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[oatmilk-vampire]

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

[yelenasbitch]

Natasha Romanoff Does Not Date

Summary: Natasha Romanoff does not date. It used to be because she didn’t have, well, bodily autonomy, but even after that, she never really made the time for it.

And then: sabotage.

Word Count: 1,600

Warnings: None, just tooth rotting fluff

Masterlist (coming soon)

Natasha Romanoff does not date. It used to be because she didn’t have, well, bodily autonomy, but even after that, she just never really made the time for it. She knows that Clint dated, had to hear all about it, the meetings, the honeymoon phases, the breakups. And then one day, there was no breakup, but she did have to meet Laura, and she was nice. And then after a while, when she realized that Natasha really, really did not want Clint, she was even nicer. And then Natasha had two people harassing her about dating, which was less than ideal. Once she started with the Avengers, well, Clint gave her a break. 

But still, it was the same question every time she showed up at his front door:

“So, got a girlfriend yet?”

And the same answer:

“Fuck you Barton, let me in.”

(She stopped cursing when the kids came, but made sure to give him a smack when they turned around.)

                                                                       ~~

And then they sabotaged her. (But she’s not really complaining.)

She knocks on the door and glances behind her, just out of habit, while she waits for someone to let her in. When she hears the approaching footsteps, ones that aren’t Clint or Laura, she immediately pulls out her gun, and she’s about to break the door down when it opens. And she has enough time to recognize that you’re not an assassin, and then Lucky is running past her, out into the field, and then you take off after him. 

She stands on the porch for a minute, trying to figure out what the hell is happening, before she snaps into action. She goes after you and the dog, and between the two of you, he’s corralled back into the house in fifteen minutes. She follows your footsteps into the house, noting that you’re slightly out of breath from the impromptu run. Not an agent, then.

“Hey, you’re Natasha, right?” is the first thing out of your mouth that isn’t a curse or the dog’s name. 

She just nods. 

“Clint and Laura told me you might stop by,” and you’re smiling, laughing as you say the next bit, “they also warned me that you might pull a gun on me.”

She raises an eyebrow, “and you didn’t think that was odd?”

“Well, I’ve worked for–” you cut yourself off abruptly, thinking before you continue speaking, “I think he was Clint’s boss. Anyway, it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard.”

That gets her attention, “Fury? You worked for Fury?”

You nod and her hands itch for her gun again; “who are you?” is all she can manage, confused as hell by the bits of information you’ve given her. 

“I’m a pet sitter.” you say brightly, holding in a laugh at her incredulous look.

“A pet sitter?”

“Yeah, I watched Fury’s cat, Goose. She’s really sweet once she warms up to you.”

Natasha thinks she’s having a stroke. 

You’re trying not to embarrass yourself, but Natasha is looking like she’s going to kill you, and you’re trying to avoid checking her out, and so you just keep talking to fill the silence. 

“But, yeah. So I’ve taken care of Goose a few times, and then when Clint got Lucky, he got my info from Fury. I’ve cared for him a couple times, but not for too long. This time though, Clint’s gone away for longer. He and Laura took the kids to disney world for a week, and so here I am.”

You slowly stop speaking, and Natasha manages to get a grip of herself. 

“I see. Well, I’ll head out then.”

“No!” You shout it before you can stop, and she smirks. 

“I just mean, you don't have to. Clint said you might stop by, and Laura told me that she made up both guest bedrooms just in case.”

Natasha considers the facts for a minute: she had mentioned to Clint that she’d try and stop by this week, he hadn’t said anything about a trip to Florida with the kids, and he had very suspiciously not answered her texts letting him know she was on the way. Fuck it. 

“Just one night, then. It’s a long flight back. As long as you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. And I’ll stay out of your way.”

Her response is cut short by her phone ringing, and she excuses herself to another room when she sees that it’s Clint calling.

“Out of town?” is her greeting to him.

“Oops? I must’ve forgotten to mention it.” He answers, using a snarky, sarcastic tone.

“Bullshit, Barton.”

“Fury trusts her.”

“So you got Fury in on this too! Jumped on the bandwagon: let’s find Natasha a date?” And she whispers this part, checking to make sure you’re not within earshot.

“We just thought it might be easier,” he pauses, and Natasha can hear Laura and the kids saying something, her tone patient and the kids excited. “ –anyway, it might be easier with someone who’s already been introduced to everyone.”

“Clint, I– ”

“Gotta go, have fun!”

And then he hangs up, and she promises herself that she’ll mess up his arrows in retaliation, but for now she has to deal with…this.

                                                                       ~~

By the time evening rolls around, she’s gotten comfortable around you; is even laughing and joking with you. And when you whisper goodnight, after the end of the movie, she catches herself staring as you head up the stairs, Lucky on your heels and then quickly moving past you.

She decides it’s time for her to go to bed as well, and she turns out the lights, does a final perimeter check, and heads to the second guest bedroom. She can hear you speaking softly to Lucky, hears the thump of his tail, and when he jumps into your bed she listens as the bed squeaks and you laugh delightedly. 

Natasha very much ignores the feeling of jealousy when she thinks about how Lucky gets to spend the night cuddling you.

                                                                       ~~

Natasha is awake and sipping coffee when you and Lucky stumble blearily down the stairs the next morning. Well, you stumble and Lucky runs. She looks on as you open the door and let him outside, stares as you stretch in the patch of sunlight and scrunch your nose at the chill in the air. You make your way into the kitchen and through it into the pantry, preparing Lucky’s breakfast while he’s still outside. And when you shriek finally seeing her in there, she can’t help it, she starts laughing. 

“Not nice!” you say once you’ve caught your breath, though you’re holding back a smile.

“Sorry?” but it’s not sincere and she’s still smiling widely as you continue where you left off with Lucky’s food. He comes bounding in, having heard the scream, though it only takes one look at his full food bowl and then he’s distracted, eating noisily in the corner.

“Hmph. Please tell me you at least made enough for me too?” you ask, and she nods, grabbing a mug and filling the cup. She observes silently as you add milk and sugar, smiling at your look of happiness when you take the first sip.

                                                                       ~~

She stays the whole day, and then lets you convince her that it’s too late to fly back, so she’ll have to stay another night. 

                                                                       ~~

The following day the two of you take Lucky on a hike, and later you fall asleep leaning on her as the two of you watch movies on the couch. 

She stays that night, too.

                                                                       ~~

The next day she takes the opportunity to teach you some archery basics, ensuring that she leaves Clint’s bows and arrows and targets in shambles as retaliation. 

That night Lucky sleeps alone, and she sleeps curled around you instead. 

She gives him some of her bacon the next morning, and he isn’t one to hold a grudge. 

                                                                       ~~

By the time Clint, Laura, and the kids come back, she’s still there, and Lucky has developed a taste for bacon in the mornings.

The two of you spend the night since the kids won’t let either of you leave, and Lucky pouts the next morning, deprived of bacon since Natasha had been deprived of cuddles. (She had rolled her eyes when you insisted on sleeping separately, but smiled into the goodnight kiss you gave her.)

                                                                       ~~

The two of you board the jet the next afternoon, smiling as the family waves goodbye. Clint and Laura high five each other, and Natasha can’t wait for him to see what she’s done to his beloved equipment the next time he goes to practice.

Still, as you sit next to her, talking and staring at the clouds going past, she knows that she also owes him a new bow, and owes Laura a night of babysitting. 

Maybe, she thinks as she listens to you talk about meeting the rest of the team, you’ll join her for babysitting duty.

                                                                       ~~

So, to recap:

Natasha Romanoff does not date. It used to be because she didn’t have control, and then it was because she never really made the time for it, making sure she was too busy for it. 

She watched as Clint did, as he found a wife and made himself a family. Listened as both of them encouraged her to date. Looked on as he retired and raised his kids and built a home. And then she got sabotaged, and decided she was very happy that she hadn’t listened to them. She had waited, worked, saved the world a few times, and avoided dating. You were her reward.

[kryannoy]

it slipped out, i'm sorry . . .

genre: fluff

character: xiangli yao

a/n: another fic about him because i am so in love with this man. i am fully aware he is sadly a fictional character 😀

Oh, how you love your boyfriend so much.

He has never raised his voice at you, never raised his hand at you, never even complained about you. He is just so . . . him! So perfect. The man any girl or woman would dreamt of. The man anyone wants as their partner because he treats you like royalty.

So, how? How does one get him to be your lover? And that person in question is you. How did you even hit the jackpot has always been a question you can never answer yourself. It has remained a mystery for as long as you can remember.

There has been a lot of time you look at him, stare at him, observe him and pinch him and yourself to see if this is real or not. And when you pinched him, guess what? He didn't get mad at you.

He flinched from the pain and immediately turned to you to see you pinching yourself as well. He raised his eyebrow and questioned you.

"Wha . . . What was that for?" His voice is gentle as the breeze, full of confusion yet patience.

"I don't think this is real. Yao, my love, can you pinch me so I know this isn't a dream?" You answered.

He chuckles at this. He doesn't need anyone else to keep him entertained after being buried in his research. You were enough. "No, princess. I don't want to hurt you."

You pout at him while playfully crossed your arms. "You saying that isn't helping, y'know?"

The look on his face isn't really worth seeing. You quite regret this action. Somehow, he seems to believe you. Or more likely, ready to apologize for saying something wrong—when clearly he wasn't.

"What is this all about? Is something troubling you? You can just tell me and I will help to the best of my ability."

He did it again! is what you want to say but you don't want to further upset your boyfriend. After all, why would you do that when he never does the same? He doesn't deserve it.

"It's just, I can't believe I have someone like you. No, wait. That sounded wrong. I meant, like, you're so perfect, how did I end up with you? And why did you choose me when there are other girls who are more fitting to be with you. You're so nice and I feel like I haven't done enough."

His heart bloomed. He feels suffocated but in a good way. An amazingly, romantically good way. He never gave a thought that you felt this way. He always thought that you were just as happy as him to be together.

He moves towards you and cups your face in his large hands. His prosthetic hand feels cold on your left cheek but somehow, you still feel the warmth resonating from his touch.

"My beautiful, lovely, sweet, gorgeous queen." He pecks your lips and even from that short kiss makes both of your skin hot, but still, he wasn't going to shy away now. "You are also perfect as is. So, we are perfect for each other. And I don't need anyone else. Got it?"

Oh, his eyes are shining. His smile is beaming. His touch is welcoming. But his distance is killing. He's so close!

At times like these are when you feel so shy around him no matter how many times you both have hugged, cuddled, kissed and such. You still feel butterflies in your stomach like having a school crush. You wonder if he feels the same way.

"And in another few years, we will be married, live together and have ki—"

He stops abruptly before he gets ahead of himself. Well, it's already slipped out anyways.

How else were you going to respond to that?! He just proves himself to be dreamier than before.

"Xiangli Yao . . ." You breath.

He notices you're so stiff and tense, not to mention, how red your face is right now. He better take a step back before you faint.

The proximity is now enough for you to take a breather. He scratches his cheek with his metal finger, looking flustered as you are. He must have felt the same way—the butterflies in his tummy, the blinking eyes, the awkward gesture.

He lightly clears his throat. "M—My apologies, I . . . uh, got ahead of myself. Forget what I said. I wasn't really thinking straight and it slipped out before I knew it."

It makes you much happier now after hearing his words and seeing you're not the only one who can get embarrassed. You're fully aware your boyfriend loves to make plans, even plans for next year, but you didn't know he made plans to be fully committed to you!

How'd you land a guy like him will always be the question.

You couldn't hide your smile anymore as you flung yourself into his arms as if he just put a ring on your finger. "I'll just say it now; I do!"

Xiangli Yao is so glad you couldn't see his face because if he does, he'll most likely malfunction like his robot one time. "I think you need to pinch me, princess. I feel like I'm dreaming."

[clovdgyu]

requested

#sylus x m!reader #smut #sylus is currently my third priority in lnd (last being xavier because i don't have any solar pairsg bfor him. still love this bb boy tho)

#pet namees (sylus calls reader doll, baby boy, and kitten), breeding kink, fingering, unprotected sex, kinky sex, sylus loves seeing you in your pjs, took place after a year and a few months

#being the cutest, most handsome, and kindest boyfriend of your university's crush, it seems you have a lot to handle at once but especially his sex drive

you looked at the entirety of his condo unit and it was surprisingly huge! well, i guess that's a given seeing how your tall boyfriend is practically towering over you. "your place is nice," you stated before he wrapped his arms around you from behind, hugging you.

"our place is nice. this is where we'll be staying from now on. you don't have to pay rent, no anything. just sit there and look pretty, baby," he told you, the pet name making your cheeks warm as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

it's already been a year and a half when you and sylus started dating, experiencing various ups and downs but stayed together through all of it. one thing you did notice about sylus was that he was unexpectedly clingy and protective.

you never complained though, you loved seeing his vulnerable side. but another thing is, you noticed how he was holding himself back when he was with you. sure, he was clingy, but it just seemed new to you. everytime you initiated any means of physical touch, he slowly backs away.

you know he isn't uncomfortable when it comes to you, but it seemed that he was keeping himself in the "right state of mind" every time you initiated a kiss or any kinds of affection.

back to the present, you sighed and backed away from him, crossing your arms as you looked him dead in the eyes, making sylus confused. "sylus, are you holding yourself back because of me?"

"what? no," he answered a little too fast, a little too suspicious. you smiled at him and held onto his biceps, comforting him. he sighed, "i just don't want you to get the impression that all i ever think about is sex. i was just worried that you might hate it."

a scoff left your mouth as you cupped the taller man's cheeks with your hands. "sounds reasonable enough. but you don't have to hold yourself back, you can ask me when you want to do it. but no means no, alright?"

smirking, sylus used his thumb and index, holding onto your chin and raised it. "well, i am kind of in need of some pleasure right now, doll. do you consent?"

a simple nod from you was all it takes for sylus to finally give in to his desires.

"do i have to do it in my pyjamas, sylus?" you asked the other male who was already laid on your shared bed in just his boxers. you sat on the bed and the other male was obviously smirking as he eyed you from head to toe. "q-quit doing that."

sylus sat up and neared you, one hand supporting his weight behind you. "you just look so cute in those pink pjs, kitten. can't help it."

"you're really—"

you were not able to finish your sentence since as soon as you've opened your mouth, sylus attacked your lips with his. it was surprising for you to say the least as you never had any experience with kissing. you didn't complain though.

if anything, you closed your eyes in satisfaction as you held onto sylus' broad shoulders to try and deepen the kiss. at first you both stayed there, lips connected to each other to bask in the warmth of each other's mouths.

deciding to take the initiative, you slowly detached your lips from him before kissing him back in a torrid kiss, moving your lips in a sensual manner.

a dry chuckle left sylus' mouth at how eager you were before he finally kissed back with the same tempo. the silver-haired male moved his lips rhytmically with yours, small kissing sounds emitting from your lips. slowly, sylus pushed you down the bed, not breaking away from the kiss.

wanting even more, you guided your hands towards your boyfriend's silver hair and softly gripped on it, pulling him closer towards you, letting out a small squeal when his knee slightly brushed on your crotch.

sylus removed his lips from yours, trailing kisses down your neck to your collar bone as he looked up at you, your eyes half-lidded whilst small whimpers left your plump lips. "s-sylus.."

"what's wrong, kitten? you need something?" he asked with a sly smirk, going back to what he was doing. slowly, he undid the buttons on your pyjama shirt, making your cheeks heat up at the thought of showing him your torso. "don't be scared, kitten. I got you," he stated, as if he heard your thoughts.

you nodded as a response, sylus finally done undoing your buttons. "sylus," you called out in a sweet voice to which the said male hummed to, fingers trailing down towards your pants' waistband. he removed his lips from your body and harshly discarded your pyjama pants, making you gasp. "sylus! oh my god.."

the said male stared at your half-clothed body, admiring your seductive and soft stature. "you look so delectable, m/n. i never even thought would ever come," he stated with a teasing smirk, leaning down to places kisses down your stomach.

without even a warning, sylus grabbed the waistpand of your pants behind you and pulled it back, just enough to expose your ass.

you gasped at the sudden rush of coldness before he inserted a finger into your hole, making you yelp before you bit your lips to silence your screams. "s-sylus, oh fuck!"

"hearing you cuss like that is making me hot. why do you do it so politely? you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" sylus teased before he began to thrust his finger inside your hole, inserting another one to fully stretch your hole, doing scissoring motions to prepare you for his meaty cock.

a sudden scream came out from your lips, cutting you out of your thoughts. "oh my god! that felt so weird, sy. fu—you keep hitting it!" you shouted, making sylus 'tsk' as he moved up and placed a hand over your mouth to silence you. smirking, he slowly moved his fingers into your hole, seeing your eyes twitch as he neared that certain spot.

stopping, he tapped on your g-spot, making you whimper as you gripped on the sheets beneath you. finding it amusing, he pressed onto it harshly, making you gasp as you folded your legs. your eyes were closed at the pleasure before sylus' eyes darkened and constantly pressed on it as if it were a remote control's "return" button.

you had no choice but to let out muffled moans, your own cock twitching on your stomach a bit leaked pre-cum. "sylus, no...stop. it feels so good, it's bad," you stated, holding out a shaky hand to remove his finger but it was no use. you barely had any strength left because of the constant abuse on your prostate.

tears left your eyes as whimpers and ragged breaths exited your mouth, altough muffled. "i can't stop, kitten. if i do, wouldn't that be hard for you to take my big cock? now be a good boy and behave," sylus stated as he removed his fingers from your g-spot and began to properly stretch your ass out. "besides, aren't you the one who's pushing their own ass onto my fingers? what a pervert."

"th-then, please hurry up," your big doe eyes looked up at him with plea, the face you had on only making it hard for him to stop. it was always how you looked naturally cute with whatever you do that he would find his own pants get tighter, so having to see it so close is such a great experience.

sylus let out a deep chuckle leaving you feeling confused as he stopped his fingers from ever reaching the depths of your hole. "seriously..." he muttered, slowly pulling out his fingers that got him small whimpers from you, the noise going straight to his cock feeling it twitch in his underwear.

"whatever happens tonight," sylus rasped out, moving closer to you to give you a small shiver as he whispered into your ears. "it'll all be your fault, kitten," you felt yourself losing all the strength you had left in you, an unconscious moan moving past your lips. somehow, the way he calls you kitten just sent something inside you to tingle.

"you don't know how much i've waited to do this to you, m/n. hearing you moan my name in your sleep the last time you came over, i just couldn't wait any longer."

upon his revelation, you felt your cheeks get warm due to the embarrasment. "it wasn't intentional, sylus. I was having a dream...a wet dream that you were fucking my ass nonstop until my legs were nothing but weak," you explained, sighing as the taller male trailed his right hand from your legs towards your chest, his touches making you shiver. "sylus."

"quiet."

you heard how his' breath became raspy as he suddenly began to grind his hard-on onto your exposed cock. "oh my god...sylus," you moaned out, and before you could even comprehend things, he pulled back and dragged you with him, catching you by surprise.

smirking, sylus held you up with ease before you've found yourself on all fours. you were just about to go back up but his sudden weight on your back had you struggling. "kitten, don't fight it."

it's that nickname again. you thought. "b-but this position looks so odd. will—AH!"

a sudden scream erupted from your throat as you felt the tip of sylus' cock suddenly enter your hole unannounced. knowing that he needed to shut you up, he placed his left hand over your mouth as he neared his lips towards your left ear. "as much as i love to hear the noises you make, the walls here are thin."

you could only nod as you tried to adjust his bulbous cockhead. "you're so big, sy. i can feel it stretch me out fully," you stated, although whispered and muffled through the other male's hand.

feeling successful, sylus could only smirk as he felt his chest swell with pride at the thought of the mess he will make of you. he was the sweetest person you could ever meet in your whole entire life. kind and caring, but once you resort into submission, especially to him, there is no way the male would miss out the opportunity to take advantage of it and completely show you his dominance. "that's good to hear, kitten," sylus whispers again into your ears, sending shivers down your spine, feeling your own member twitch at the action.

sylus, then starts littering kisses onto your neck, leaving love bites in the process to show others that you are his prized possession. a silent moan leaves your lips at the contact of his plump lips on your skin. truth be told, just as much as sylus, you have waited for this time to arrive.

before, it was all just happening in your head, but now, you're literally about to get dicked down by the one and only sylus who, for a fact, is your boyfriend, lover, and partner.

you knew that on your first day at sylus' condo that those secret glances and tantalizing stares during your visits were something. you knew that the few times he purposely showed you his thick bulge through his jagger pants without any underwear, his tip poking through the fabric meant something and not just 'to feel more comfortable' as he always would reason to you.

"i'll start pushing, m/n," sylus, in between his kisses, informed you to mentally prepare you for his thick rod, you gasping when he roughly pushed his cock in you as you turned to look back at him with a pained expression, the other male caressing your arms before pushing his cock in fully.

"gh!" you coughed, sylus stopping his movements as he grabbed you by the waist out of panic. "fuck..you're too huge, sylus."

the other male smirked before he gritted his teeth, covering your mouth with his right hand before pushing all of his length with a silent grunt. your eyes grew impossibly wide as a scream emitted from your mouth, not out of pain but not out of pleasure as well. somewhere in between.

this was your first time and you could feel every inch of his cock brush against your walls, his thick cock stretching your ass out which made you clench the sheets. sylus hummed at the tightness of your hole, tears trailing down your eyes as you hung your head low. "how does my cock feel, kitten?" sylus asked as he leaned closer to your ear.

a small whimper erupted from your lips as he slowly pulled out until the tip was the only thing inside you, making you clench around his cock needily, pushing your hips back as you looked back with teary eyes. "what..? s-sylus, please—"

all of a sudden, the older male thrusted his cock inside your hole in one go, making you yelp as you arched your back, satisfying sylus who could only chuckle darkly before he was thrusting slowly inside your hole. "shit, your ass feels so good, kitten. i'm finally able to do this. fuck."

small whimpers left your lips everytime sylus pulled out, then back in. wet, squelching sounds originated from your connected parts before he gave another powerful thrust, this time hitting your prostate head on.

"agh!" you screamed out. fortunately, sylus managed to muffle it with his hand. "s-sylus. oh my god...feels good."

"do you seriously want to wake everyone up? you pervert," he degraded, giving your ass a loud slap before he pulled his cock out and placed his hand on your throat to pull you back towards him, thrusting as soon as you two were now kneeling together.

sylus was fast enough to react by attacking your lips with a passionate kiss to silence your screams. you curled your toes in pleasure, eyes closed as you did nothing but choked out moans.

he swallowed every noise that emitted from your lips as your own cock twitched every time the other male subtly thrusted into your tight heat. you felt his tongue swipe along the bottom of your lips, making you open your mouth obediently. the silver-haired male sucked your tongue and swirled his own onto yours.

your lips moved in sync, sylus thrusting experimentally. once he heard a muffled whimper, he of his wits went out the window as he began to thrust into your hole at a normal pace, his hands trailing from your inner thighs, to your crotch, then up your stomach, landing on your chest. "sylus," you called out, your hands finding their way on his arm.

he hummed as he thrusted his cock into your hole at a pace you could bare, small whimpers and moans exiting your lips as your ass hit his hips, wet noises bouncing across the room. the other male could feel your whole body tremble and shake, deciding to fasten his pace with a low groan.

the fast pace has you biting your lip, throwing your head back as scratched your nails on his arms. that familiar coil in your stomach appeared again, pushing your hips back onto his to chase your own high.

"fuck, you gonna cum, kitten?" he asked, you nodding eagerly in response as he began to pound your hole mercilessly, making you moan out loudly. "you really want to wake them up, huh? want them to hear how much of a mess I've made of you? want them to hear how good i'm making you feel?"

not stopping his animalistic pace, sylus focused on giving you the pleasure that you deserve. all you could do was moan wantonly, body squirming as you felt your cock twitch, pre-cum "i'm...i'm gonna—ahhh! s-sylus!"

sylus began to nip at your neck, sucking every once in a while to leave purplish-pink hickeys that would surely be hard to hide even with make-up.

your own breath became ragged, his thrusts going even faster as he chased his own high, making you scream out in pure bliss every time the tip of his cock brushed against your prostate. "fuck, your hole feels so good. does my cock feel good, kitten? my cock makes you feel this good," he clarified before you felt his cock grow inside you, indicating that he was near his climax.

you clenched your hole against his cock, pushing your hips onto his to chase your own high before you let out one particular choked gasp, throwing your head back, eyes rolled back in pleasure as thick ropes of white squirted from your cock, falling onto the bed's white sheets. sylus continued to thrust inside your hole, finding his own release.

the pleasure made your whole body shake as you dug your nails onto the other male's strong arms. "fuck, fuck! i'm gonna cum!" he announced as he threw his head back, holding your waist tightly that it would surely leave bruises. "fuckfuckfuck! oh fuck, i'm cumming!"

you felt his cum paint your walls white, making you groan as you hold onto his biceps. he stayed in that position, cock buried deep inside you as he came a lot, some of it dripping down your hole. an idea popped inside his head. he continued to thrust inside your hole to fuck his cum into you, making you whimper at the overstimulation. "s-slow down, wait."

"i'm sorry, m/n."

"what part of 'no means no' did you not get, sylus?! i told you i had to pee!" you shouted at him, the other male chuckling before he neared you, bolster separating the two of you. "now i've wet the previous sheets. i have never ever wet the bed since i was 3."

he smiled, "i told you, that wasn't pee. well, kind of. i made you squirt," sylus clarified as he removed the bolster and hugged you. you glaring at him before turning your back on him. "please don't be mad at me. (fave food) tomorrow?"

you were just about to say something, but you sigheand looked back at him. "fine. but when i tell you 'no' next time, that means 'no' alright? or no sex for a year."

the thought made sylus widen his eyes before he pursed his lips then nodded, hugging you closer as you two went to sleep, unaware of a fully awake doctor who was now even more awake after what he just heard.

[jockwrites]

Can you write something aggressive please 😩

RIGHT HERE - p.b

warnings: smut, (r receiving,) use of drug substances, cursing

a/n: this is pretty short, not that aggressive tbh..but i’m trying a new writing style! also please please please send requests <3

for @billiesmainchick @doyouknowhowtob3nd

paige is manspread on the couch, the aroma of weed sorrounding her.

at the moment, she’s mad because you’d rather spend time with your friends than her. but this isn’t a one time thing—you always do this.

she thinks maybe she’s just overthinking, maybe she’s just in her mind too much. but regardless, if you called she’d answer. if you came in, angry, upset, she’d comfort.

no matter how mad she is, she’s always there for you.

but you aren’t answering her calls, and she’s starting to get heated minute by minute. that’s when she decides to call you one more time, just for closure so she can go to sleep. she’s already high as it is.

you giggle & laugh with your friends, noticing an incoming call from paige before accepting it.

“hello?” you speak into the phone, your smile blatantly obvious through your voice.

her voice is shaky, and there's a hint of anger in it "hey, where are you right now? who are you with?" she asks, trying to keep her tone even. but it's clear she's on edge.

you roll your eyes, knowing she’s just in one of those moods, “im with my friends, paige,” you huffed.

“why can’t you spend time with me? and why the fuck won’t you answer my calls?” she questions, her voice wavering. she’s getting upset, her voice shaking a little. she’s a bit too high.

you shake your head “paige, they’re my friends. and i didn’t answer because we’re having fun, i’ll be back soon.”

she scoffs, getting more heated “so i'm not important enough to answer? i'm sitting here alone, waiting for you. and you're out having fun with your friends. do i not matter to you?”

you get agitated, rolling your eyes as your hand comes up to rub your temple in distress and annoyance, “paige, i’ll be home soon. stop overreacting. yes, you do matter, but they just wanted to spend time with me.”

she laughs bitterly, “stop overreacting? really? you're telling me to stop overreacting when you're the one who keeps blowing me off?” her voice raises. she's definitely high and definitely pissed, “i've been waiting for you all day.”

you scoff, “paige, God. chill the fuck out i said i’ll be there soon.”

she pauses, her breathing heavy. silence. then she speaks, her voice low, “you know what? forget it. i don't give a fuck about your friends.” and with that, she hangs up the phone. you stare at your phone, confused. that was harsh.

you look around, then eagerly tell your friends you need to go, “hey guys, im gonna head out. paige needs me”

you get a simple, in sync, “bye bye,” from everyone before you get up to leave.

you don’t know what’s gotten into paige.

by the time you arrive to the apartment, she’s high as can be, her eyes bloodshot red. she’s in some joggers and a white tee on the couch, her legs manspread. her eyes are low, the expression on her face enough to scare a child. the stench of weed is thick in the air.

you walk in, noticing the unusual disposition she has, “hey baby, are you okay?”

she looks up at you, her gaze hazy as she speaks with sarcasm dripping in her voice. “yeah, im fine. just chillin.” she reaches for her phone, texting someone quickly before putting it down. “so, what made you come back after you fucking left me for those bullshit excuses of ‘friends’?” she asks, her voice husky and low.

you roll your eyes in annoyance, putting one hand on your hip, “paige,” you speak calmly, “i just wanted to have fun. am i not allowed?”

“take a fucking look around hazel,” she says, her voice a low mumble. her eyes are heavy, the high she’s on making her lazy, “they’re not your fucking friends. i’ve already explained this to you. i can’t let this shit keep happening, it happens again and again and i’m sick of it. fuck them.”

you furrow your eyebrows, “but they’re my friends paige. i can’t just not hangout with them.”

she sits up, her eyes finally focusing on you. her gaze is intense, serious. “bro, hazel, i don’t give a fuck about your friends. i’m right here, why can’t you see that? i’m the only one who’s been there for you. they just want you to come out with them so yall can drink and get fucking laid.”

you look at paige in annoyance, wondering why she’s so bitter all of a sudden, “paige, i do see you. but you need to stop, they are my real friends. you’re just jealous.”

she stands up, her face slightly red with anger. “real friends? really? are you fucking kidding me? they don’t give a shit about you, hazel. they only care about themselves. but you, you care about me. you always have. and i care about you more than they ever could.”

you’re getting agitated, the frustration clear in your voice.“paige, yes they do,” you protest.

she gets in your face, her breath reeking of weed. “no, they fucking don't. you're just too stupid to see it,” she grabs your dress, pulling you closer. “i've been waiting all night for you. you wouldn’t answer my calls.. you wouldn’t text me back.. i’ve been rolling crazy all damn night.”

you look paige in the eyes, going from a bright blue to dark grey. you lean in to whisper, “paige.. im sorry. i didn’t mean to keep you waiting on me.”

“you don’t act like you’re fucking sorry,” she hisses, her voice low and seductive, “you gotta understand baby, i don’t give a fuck about them.”

paige backs you into the wall, the dark scenery of the living room making it hard for you to see, “paige, please.”

she presses her body against yours, pinning you to the wall. her hand comes up to grip your throat, not squeezing, just resting there. “please what, hazel? please stop? please let you go back to your so-called friends?”

you look up at her, this interaction slightly turning you on, “no, paige. i meant could you forgive me,” you whisper, breaking eye contact in guilt.

her grip tightens around your throat slightly as she leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear, “forgive you for what, hazel?” her hand moves down your chest. her touch is so scary, yet so gentle. “for making me worry? for blowing me off?”

your breathing is speeding up, you gulping as her hand comes back up to your neck, “yeah, kind of.”

she leans in closer, her lips barely touching yours. her voice drops to a whisper. “you gotta let me prove i love you more than they do.” her hand moves from your neck, slowly sliding down to grip your waist as the other hand mimics.

you can feel paige starting to kiss your neck, biting your soft spot which makes you bite back a moan, “you can prove it baby.”

her hands move, groping your boobs softly as she kneads them. her kisses trail to your jawline, “it’s not gonna happen again, is it?” she whispers into your ear, her right hand going to grip your ass.

you moan, your arms wrapping around her neck as you speak, slightly breathless, “mhm, no baby, it won’t happen again i promise.”

she growls softly, nuzzling into your neck, her touch getting firmer. she picks you up by the back of your thighs, wrapping your legs around her waist. she carries you to the couch, lowering you down gently. she climbs on top of you, pinning your arms above your head.

you look up at paige, biting your bottom lip in pleasure, “what, you gonna punish me or something?” you provoked, pushing your chest up slightly.

she grins mischievously, leaning down to bite your bottom lip, tugging it gently. she kisses your neck, your collarbone, your chest, slowly pulling the shoulder straps of your dress down. she looks up at you, her eyes cold. “you wanna be punished?”

you smirk, “maybe.”

she growls softly, her hands trailing down your arms, your sides, to your thighs. she grips them tightly, parting them. she leans down, her breath hot against your core. she looks up at you from beneath your dress, her face neutral. "maybe?"

you nag, body desperate for friction, “yeah, maybe.”

without warning, she tugs your panties aside and dives in, licking a slow stripe up your slit. she moans at your taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you. her tongue circles your clit teasingly before sucking it between her lips.

you immediately moan, the sudden traction of her tongue onto your clit making you go senseless.

she continues to eat you out, her hands spreading your legs wider as she laps at your pussy. she sticks a finger inside you, curling it to hit that spot that makes you see stars. “you gonna stop acting like a bitch?”

you bite your bottom lip, hands going to grip her hair aggressively as you buck your hips against her face. practically grinding, “mm paige fuck! yes baby!”

she moans into your pussy, the vibrations intensifying your pleasure. she adds another finger, pumping them in and out rapidly as her tongue flicks over your clit. her free hand comes up to pinch and roll your nipple through your dress. “that’s my good girl, always listening to me.”

you let out a wave of curses and moans, the whimpers eliciting a sudden burst of energy in paige,“oh! paige just like that oh my-”

she growls into your core, her fingers pumping faster and harder as you buck your hips against her face. she can feel you getting closer, your legs shaking against her shoulders. she wraps her arms around your thighs to hold you in place as she doubles her efforts, “come for me baby, let me know you know i love you.”

you moan, grinding against her face as you grope her hair tighter. you use your free hand, going to pull your dress down further to knead your tits, “fuck paige you’re gonna make me cum-”

she sucks hard on your clit, her fingers curling inside you as she presses her palm against your ass. she holds you in place, not letting you move as she devours your pussy. she feels you tighten around her fingers and knows you're about to cum.

you start to approach your climax, your legs quivering, “paige please don’t stop ohmygosh!” you whine out.

she can feel you tensing up, your breathing hitching as you get closer and closer to the edge. she growls encouragingly, her fingers beckoning inside you as her mouth sucks hard on your bundle of nerves. “that's it baby. keep being a good girl for me.”

you reach your climax, riding out your high. she keeps going, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and gasping. she slowly eases back, wiping her face with the back of her hand as she grins up at you. “you did so good,” she climbs back up your body, kissing you deeply so you can taste yourself on her.

you kiss her passionately, wrapping your legs around her waist as you cup her face, “i’m sorry baby, i promise i won’t leave you alone like that again,” you promise, still out of breath from the static orgasm.

she deepens the kiss, her hands roaming your body possessively. she breaks the kiss to bury her face in your neck, breathing heavily. “you’re mine, you hear me? no one else gets to touch you like this.”

“i know, i love you.”

“i love you more baby.”

a/n: ok this took forever and it’s still bad but i wanted it to be perfect bc i didn’t like my other fics also new writing style who cheered! nobody. anyway thanks for reading pls pls pls send requests/asks other than just “smut” because that’s literally all i have .. also i used this website to help with words to use for my writing and it works like magic bro😭😭 ok bye yap yap

[leviraaaaaa]

Takes place in s2 after the scouts rescue Eren.

Blood had dried over your face. It dried over your lashes, making it hard to blink. The pain had numbed long ago, the cuts and slashes didn't hurt as much. At least, not as bad as how your heart ached.

You should have been in the med-bay. In your dorm perhaps. In the bathroom showering up, you think. But instead you found yourself slumped against Levi's door. You weren't even sure why. But out of all the places, this was what the first place you could think of. You needed to run. To hide. But there were people everywhere. And everyone was covered in blood and everyone was crying and everyone was staring. And everyone kept asking you questions and they all looked half-dead and goddamnit, you couldn't take it anymore.

You ended up here, for some reason. Instinctively, you had seeked him out. Well-aware he wouldn't be here but nevertheless.

It was the only side of the building that wasn't swarming with people anyways.

But you think you needed something to ground yourself. Needed his familiar gray eyes to glare at you. Some sense of sanity, clarity, safety.

You wished he was here, you thought.

So that he could scold you. Yell at you to get your ass up and get cleaned because you're filthy and you're bleeding all over his carpet.

Maybe that's what you need.

Maybe his sharp tongue would finally snap you out of this nightmare.

"What..are you doing here?"

You jolted. Your stiff, blood-crusted lashes barely fluttered as you blinked up.

He was there, standing in front of you, eyes widened just a fraction, confused and surprised.

You sighed.

You take it back, you don't really want to see him right now.

"..Levi." You muttered, not bothering to get up. Or even move. Your body give itself up a little more, leaning the rest of it's weight on the door. "Didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"Where am I supposed to be?" He asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"I don't know?" You shrugged. "By Erwin's sick bed?"

"I hate hospitals."

Your mouth twiched. Of course he did. "Will Erwin be okay?"

"He'll live,” He sighs. "His arm won't though.”

You looked away.

“Was it bad?” He asked, carefully watching you with narrowed eyes. You knew exactly what he meant.

“What do you think, genius?”

Levi stared, unease in his posture. He looked uncertain. He'd known the answer, the moment the first horse came in. There were too much blood, too many injured. He knew the answer when he'd saw Erwin, his uniform bloodied and mangled. Hange looked terribly exhausted and the brats looked banged up as well. It doesn't take much for one to add two and two and understand what it'd been like.

Then he'd looked for you. Wildly. He was looking at every horse that passed through, observing every hooded face. Then he paused by the medical room, glancing over every person, but no, no you. There was no you. So he could successfully rule out that you were heavily injured as well.

So when he'd went out to search for you, this was not the place he'd thought he'd find you.

This was, also, definitely not the state he'd thought he'd find you in.

Slouched down in a pool of blood and filth, you were curled up so close, as if trying to make yourself smaller, to make you disappear. He felt a sense of relief when he noticed you weren't too injured. At least, not physically.

There was something wrong though. The more he looked at you, the more frail you appeared. There was something in the way you looked, so tired, so terribly exhausted. The eyes of someone lost. Someone who had just survived hell. Someone who didn't know where else to go. From all the years he'd known you, he'd never seen you this fazed.

He felt a sudden feeling of helplessness. He didn't know how to help you. But he swallowed it down and spoke anyway.

"Are you.. alright?"

You glanced up. He was looking at you, actually looking at you, with worry.

You thought about it for a second

"...no." You swallowed.

He inhaled, nodding, like he wasn't expecting any different answer. His eyes glanced over you.

"You're covered in blood."

"Don't worry, most of it isn't mine."

"I can see you're bleeding." He said. "Why are you not in the med wing?"

"...I needed space." You mumbled, hugging your knees close to your chest. But he was giving you that look, that look that made you feel as though he could see right through your soul. It always made you feel so exposed. So small. You wish you didn't look so vulnerable as you must do. "..that's why I came here. Didn't think you'd be around."

"You're bleeding out on my office carpet.”

That made you grin, "I know. " You said. "I'm sorry. I'll move in a bit.”

"Are you hiding?" He asked, his voice low. God, he knew you too well. Always the escapist, always running away when it got too much. And he’d always dragged you right back.

"Maybe." You admitted.

There was a pause, thick and heavy. You couldn't hold his gaze anymore. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes, you wished he’d leave, wished he couldn’t see how close you were to breaking.

Breathe.

Breathe.

You couldn't.

"Stop."

You blinked at him, it came out breathless. "What?"

"Don't.” He repeated. “I know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything—"

"No. You're shutting yourself out."

"What's that even supposed to–"

"And you're angry at me. You're looking at me like you're angry at me. I can tell. " He said, frowning as the realization came across him. Confused. "Why are you angry at me?"

You didn't know what to say. You stared at him as his gray eyes searched your face for an answer. An answer you didn't know yourself. The more he looked at you and the more you looked at him, the more you felt the strange lack of air in your chest rise.

What do you tell him? You could always lie. Tell him it's nothing. He's seeing things. You couldn't think. But no matter what you made up, he'd see through you anyways.

You did feel angry.

Were you angry at him? You thought. Not really. Anger was the last emotion you felt. Not towards him.

Did a part of you blame Levi for this whole shit? Yes, you did. As unreasonable as it was, you did. You hated that Levi wasn't there. You hated that you had to face this alone, how vulnerable you'd felt without him. And you hated that, maybe if he was there, so many less people might've died. It might've been so much easier.

You might cry.

You weren't angry.

But you were scared. You were terrified. You were traumatized. You couldn't breathe. And you wished he'd stop looking at you like that for fucks sake.

"I'm not angry at you. Why would I be angry at you?" You mumbled, the bitterness in your voice so obvious.

"That's what I'm asking."

"Well, I'm not. Your people reading skills are questionable."

"People reading skills? Yes, perhaps." He agreed quietly, looking down at you. "You though? I've known you way too long. So why the fuck are you angry?"

"Because you weren't there, you dumbfuck!" You yelled, the words rushing out before you could even have a chance to stop them. There were angry tears running down your cheek and you pressed your blood covered hands to your mouth to stop yourself from letting the choked sob come out. He was right. You were angry. Not angry at him, but you felt rage, and you had to let it out.

"Couldn't have found a better time to get your stupid injury, could you?" Your voice cracked. "You just had to not be there the only time I needed you!" He looked so hurt, you realized. His brows furrowed together as he watches you, listening quietly as you threw words at him you didn't even mean. Cruel, cruel, cruel. He looked so hurt. And confused. He didn't deserve this. You needed to stop.

Everything you went through today, every bit of fear you'd experienced, everytime you'd felt helpless, everytime you'd wished he was there only to find he wasn't, every gruesome, bloody memory was tangling up in your chest, demanding to get out. It burned you down. If you didn't let it out, you'd turn into ashes here.

"What's the point," You bit the words out, "What's the point of being so fucking strong? Of being humanity's fucking strongest or whatever? Tell me what the bloody point if you can't even be there when we need you?"

"I'm so fucking mad at you," You whispered angrily. "So fucking mad." You were gasping between the words. You needed to stop. You needed to breathe. "I could punch you." You rasped. "I can't even look at you, I can't even—"

You didn't get to finish what you were going to say, because then Levi was down on his knees in an instant, pulling you into him. You struggled, your instincts still jumpy from the last hour, pushing against him and trying to peer away. But he was stronger than he ever was and he held you close, pressing your head to his shoulder.

Your breath hitched, your words coming to a stop as a choke came out. You could feel his heartbeat. It was slow, calming down your own. Breathe.

You weren't angry anymore.

Suddenly, all the rage left your body, the adrenaline rush had died down and you melted right into him. Now all you felt was sadness. Unbearable sadness. There was a void in your heart, empty and cold, and it kept reminding you of everything that had happened today.

"I thought—" you whispered, "I thought we were gonna die.” Your voice cracked as the quiet confession left you. The words were stumbling out of you, a desperate attempt to make him understand. He had to understand. “I was so, so scared, Levi." Your fingers dig into his shirt and you were almost gasping. "And then—and then fucking Erwin almost died and—and everything started going dipshit and I—I thought we were all gonna die and that's the end of it. And I was—I was—"

"Breathe," He whispered in your ear, reminding you. So uncharacteristically gentle. "Breathe. It's over. You're not there anymore.

It was the softness in his voice you think. Like he understood. Like he knew exactly why you were here and how he got you here. There was all the patience in the world when he spoke, all the kindness. It finally broke you. You tried to inhale but there was a tight knot in your throat and it constricted with every tight inhale, as if your lungs were squeezing themselves. Breathe, he said. You had to breathe.

But it was so hard to. Instinctively, you latched onto him, clinging to him desperately as your lungs fought for air. You were drowning and he was the last solid thing. If he let you go now you would fall. You would cease. You would break. You buried your face in his chest. Warmth. He was so warm. Always so warm. And it was so cold there, you thought you might never feel this again.

He felt so very much like home.

"You weren't there." You whispered accusingly. You hated him. "You weren't there, Levi."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You weren't there and I was scared that I was gonna die alone. I hate that you weren't there, I wish you were there because–"

"I know." He repeated. "Hush. You're okay. You're breathing. And you're filthy as fuck but you're alive."

That made you snort. You let out half a sob. "I got blood over you."

He didn't say anything, only pulled you closer in response.

"You're strong." He muttered softly as you let yourself melt into him. There was no more strength left in you. You could only focus on his voice and nothing else. "And brave. And Smart as fuck. I knew you'd be okay. That you'd come back. I always believed in you."

You soaked in his affirmations, the words soothing you. You rested your head on his shoulder and he did the same, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back.

"..I was so scared." You repeated again, closing your eyes. A soft shiver ran through you. "I was scared that I'd never get to see you again. And I never even got to say a proper goodbye."

"Mhm." He hummed softly. "But you're here now. That's what matters. I'm sorry I wasn't there, but I'm here now."

He was holding you so gently. Like you were made of glass. Delicate. Fragile. It's impossible to think that a cold man like him was even capable of such gentleness. You clung to him, wondering how could someone still be so kind after the words you had thrown towards him.

"I wasn't really mad at you," you mumbled after a while, your breathing still uneven.

"I know."

"I didn't mean what I said."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Of course he did. He always did.

[alwaysobsessed777]

WE FELL IN LOVE IN OCTOBER - P.B.

warnings: none

words: 1018

summary: reader wants to ask out Paige, and when she does, Paige says yes

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

“Paigeeee,” I whined, pulling her towards the fair. Paige and I have been friends since the beginning of college. Running into her in a coffee shop was the best accident to ever happen to me. The awkwardness of the encounter becoming a friendship I might ruin in a matter of minutes.  

Since we’ve became friends, becoming more and more comfortable, I've slowly fell in love with her. Now, here I am, dragging her to a pumpkin festival, planning on asking her to be my girlfriend. Did i think she was going to say yes? No. But what’s wrong with trying?  

She laughed, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts, “Y/n, calm down. It’s still gonna be there in five minutes.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Okay, I want us to go in the corn maze now!” 

She chuckles, “Whatever.” She let me drag her to the entrance, I buy both of our ways in (After much arguing about it). We walked in, my gaze locked on the maze. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I just needed to get myself to do it.  

“Come on, this way!” I managed to get us both straight to the maze. Knowing we’d have to bolt past the concessions, Paige would keep us there all day.  

“Wait, we shoulda stopped and grabbed food,” She pouts, I hold back a smile. Sometimes, it got progressively harder to stop myself from kissing her right then and there. When she pouts, that’s the worst.  

“Stop pouting, I’ll buy you something after the maze,” I finally slowed my walk, my grip on her wrist loosening, and my mind starting to race. 

“Why’d you want to come here so bad, I mean the maze?” Her face held concern. I wanted to just do it, ask her, but my nerves were going crazy.  

I shrugged, playing it cool, “I don’t know, it’s the best part of the fair.” Wrong. The rides were; everyone knew that. 

“Uh, that’s completely wrong,” She ran her hands through her hair, “What made you say that?” 

Could she not ask questions right now, as much as I love to hear her talk, not right now. “I don’t know, change of heart maybe.” 

“Whatever weirdo,” She glanced around, taking in her surroundings, “I don’t understand why people enjoy trapping themselves in a maze for long periods of time. Like, why?” 

I snickered, her mind always intrigued me. The way she thinks, it was something else sometimes.  

“I’m not joking! Like, please answer that question,” I spun around, deciding to just drop it on her now. 

“After you answer my question,” She smirks, one of her eyebrows raised.  

“Yes ma’am, now what’s this question of yours?” I felt my throat close. I couldn’t breathe, let alone talk.  

“Can I say some stuff first?” She nods, “I just wanna say how amazing our friendship is. Paige, you’re like the best person to ever come into my life. You’re always there for me, when my parents weren’t talking to me, when I almost flunked out of school, when...just when I needed you most. I’ve been falling for you, and I can’t say that I hate it. The one person who has made me happy for the last four years is you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so in love with somebody in my life.” 

There was the face I had expected. Confusion was what I thought I was going to get from her. The next bit, not as much.  

“Y/n...I don’t know what to say...” I cut her off, “You don’t have to.” 

“No, I want to,” She paused, grabbing both of my hands, holding them in hers, “Y/n, I didn’t know you felt any way towards me.” 

“Can I ask my question?” She nods, “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

She smiles, “Yes, a hundred times yes.”  

I couldn’t contain myself. I threw myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck. Her hands landing on my waist, slightly pulling me closer. Never did I think I would say the words ‘Paige Bueckers is my girlfriend,’ but here I am.  

“You wanna get something to eat?” I asked, pushing away from her body ever so slightly.  

“Oh my god, yes. I’m glad you asked me at the beginning of the maze rather then the middle,” I gave her a confused look. “Oh, I saw the messages between you and Nika. You really think she keeps quiet about anything?” 

I blushed, “Nika told you?” 

“No, she was blabbing about it to Aubrey. I walked in and overheard all of it.” 

I hide my face in her shoulder, “Stop, I was so nervous too.” 

She chuckles, “I know, babe.” 

“Then why didn’t you just say something?” 

“I needed to know that it was real, that you were falling for me as hard as I was falling for you,” Her face flushed red, she was second guessing it too. 

“I think I couldn’t be more in love with you than I am right now,” I mumbled into her, a smile spreading onto her face. 

“I think I might love you more,” I raise my head to look at her, “What’s with that look?” 

“I’m literally the one who asked you out...I love you more.” 

“Nope,” She shook her head. I gave her another look. 

“Yeah, come on. I’ve had this massive crush on you for like two years.” 

“Try four, sweetheart.” 

My eyes widened, “Four?” 

She nods, “Yep, I’ve always liked you. The day I saw you in that coffee shop, I literally couldn’t take my eyes off you. I’ve never been so consumed with the feeling of infatuation so strongly in my life. The way you talked so nicely to the barista, the way you smiled, the way you covered your mouth when you laughed, the way your cheeks tinted pink when you got a small compliment, just...everything.” She paused, “I wanted to ask you out then and there, but I had been staring, and completely forgot if you were to turn around, you’d bump right into me.” 

“And I did.” 

“I’m glad I didn’t move.” 

“Me too.” 

a/n: lowkey like it...lowkey hate it

[pomefioredove]

If you still take req for the event (if not ignore 🙏), could we pls get "I can't stop thinking about you." With Sebek

RARE SEBEK REQUEST 🙏🙏🙏

summary: "I can't stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: sebek additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

You are a problem.

Not because you're always getting yourself into trouble, not because of your poor temperament, not even because of that direbeast you carry around with you.

No. Sebek couldn't have cared less about all that.

If that's all it was, he could have tolerated you. What's one more bothersome human to him?

You would have been no different from the others.

If not for...

"Ah, young love," Lilia sighs. There's a dreamy current in the stream of his voice that makes Sebek stiffen.

"It is NOT... love,"

The elder fae chuckles. "Yes, I remember what that was like. Denial is the first stage, you know,"

"That's grief, father," Silver mutters, keeping his head down to avoid being dragged into the conversation.

"And what is grief if not love?"

"Again," Sebek is tense. "I am not interested in such things. I have already devoted my life and service to Malleus."

Silver and Lilia give each other a look.

"You know, Sebek, it's okay to have these kinds of thoughts. You're young! You have the rest of your life to guard Malleus. You should have some fun," Lilia says.

"Father is right. Maybe you'll loosen up a bit. You're too stressed,"

"YOU'RE NOT STRESSED ENOUGH!"

Lilia sighs that certain familiar sigh.

"I admire your focus, Sebek. If you really want to rid yourself of these feelings, the fastest way to do so is confessing. That way, you won't spend months toiling over them,"

Sebek's expression flips forthwith, and he beams. "Thank you for your wisdom!"

Silver raises an eyebrow, and Lilia dismisses him with a wave. It doesn't matter, anyway; Sebek takes his words to heart.

It's long past dark when he pounds on Ramshackle's door.

Nonetheless, you answer, bleary-eyed and sluggish, a thumb-sucking Grim tucked in your arms like an infant.

"Sebek?" you ask. "Is... everything alright? Are you okay? Did something happen to Malleus?"

Your words of concern are like an arrow through his heart. Worried for both him and his liege?

But also... worried for him...

He better get this over with fast.

"Malleus is well, do not worry about him. This concerns us,"

You stare in disbelief, as if you hadn't heard him right. "Us?"

"Did you mishear me? I am here because I cannot stop thinking about you!"

"...Oh!"

Oh?

"...Me?"

"Am I not speaking loud enough for you? I said, I CANNO-"

Your eyes widen. "No! No, I heard you! I'm just confused. What exactly does that mean?"

Sebek crosses his arms. Of course. Sigh...

"Lilia said I might overcome my feelings for you if I express them. So? What do you have to say for yourself?"

You blink. You're clearly still tired, he thinks, otherwise you would have understood, accepted his words, and been gone by now.

Right? Nothing more.

"Um... I don't know," you finally say. "Maybe I can come to training tomorrow?"

Hm. A strange response, but not an unwelcome one. Sebek grins.

"Finally taking up the offer? Of course. Anyone who spends time with Malleus should know the basics of combat,"

You hum, looking up at the sky behind him. "I wasn't really thinking about spending time with Malleus, but... okay. Tomorrow,"

"Tomorrow!"

And with that, he's gone, with a warm feeling in his chest that wasn't there before.

Lilia must have been right about confessing- he suddenly feels much better.

[flammingnachos]

“𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 （）𝗋𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗇𝖺 𝗓𝗈𝗋𝗈 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 （𝘔）

𝖲𝗒𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗌𝗂𝗌；You know that Zoro's hygiene has been, to put it lightly, lax. You decide that enough is enough, and with a little encouragement from Nami, you decide that there's only one option to convince him. Shower sex.

It’s been 6 days. You think to yourself with a small shudder. The first few days, you almost don’t mind. It’s kinda sexy, the musty scent. It’s a reminder of the hard work that he puts himself through daily. And of course, the visual benefits of that work are certainly worth a mild stench. But 6 days? It’s beyond a mild stench now. It’s a fucking identity trait. You’d only been together for a couple months, so you don’t exactly know what the proper way to bring up this kind of shit. Like “hey babe, I’d love to really take a trip to the bone zone and all, but if we do right now, Brook isn’t gonna be the only dead one on the ship.” Even if you did say that, he’d be so confused, the adorable idiot, and probably pretty dejected too. You sigh, squeezing your eyes closed and press your fingertips to your temples.

“I’m just gonna have to manipulate the poor boy.” You decide out loud, having no idea how to manage that.

“Who are we manipulating?” Nami pops her head in the room with a sly grin. You nod your head in a greeting to her.

“Zoro,” you say with exasperation. “To take a shower.”

Nami laughs loudly. “Good fucking luck,” she’s almost crying with how hard she’s laughing. “I’ve been barking up that tree since the literal day I met him.”

This is not what you needed to hear. You groan and flop back on your mattress, clapping your hand over your eyes. After another few moments of laughing, you feel Nami sit next to you on the edge of the bed.

“Y/n, the answer is obvious.”

You raise an eyebrow and glance up at through the parted fingers over your eyes. “Oh?” You ask.

“Shower sex, duh.” Nami replies, sticking her tongue out at you with a wink.

You flush. Goddamn it. You think. Seductive manipulation is not precisely your forte. Especially with someone as completely dense as Zoro. In some ways, Zoro is one of the most intelligent people you know. He’s instinctual, able to observe his environment, adaptable and cunning in a fight. But with other people? That he actually likes? Let’s just say the wheel is spinning, but the hamster’s dead. Very dead.

“I was afraid of this,” you say gravely.

Nami rolls her eyes. “Christ, y/n. You’re acting like it’s such a chore to have sex with your boyfriend.”

“UGH.” You throw a pillow at her, and she cackles again as she stands up to walk towards the door.

“You’re a true champ, y/n. From all of us Straw-hat Pirates, we thank you for your service.” She salutes, dodging another pillow that you chuck her direction as she walks out the door.

As you sit on the edge of your bed, you grab the last pillow left and shove it into your face, letting it stifle the almost inhuman, frustrated screech that rips through your throat. The sound dissipates, and you stand up, heading up to the Crow’s Nest, where you know the smelly swordsman will be. Nami and Robin snicker at you as you pass and you flip them off crudely. You climb up the ladder to the Crow’s Nest and open the hatch, pulling yourself inside.

You smell him before you can see him.

Why am I doing this to myself? Why?

You turn towards the sound of heavy breathing and you see Zoro, in all his bare-chested glory, doing one-armed hand stand push-ups while he used the free arm to curl a massive dumbbell.

Oh yeah, that’s why.

His back is to you, so you’re able to watch the muscles of his back and shoulders ripple beneath his tanned skin effortlessly. He’s taken his long green coat off, leaving him in only his pants and boots. You can see droplets of sweat dripping down his back, each bead following a different muscular curve. He makes soft grunting noises with each rep and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your heart race. You clear your throat softly, hoping to gain his attention. He doesn’t turn, only switching the role of each arm.

So, you try again, this time a bit louder. You watch him stiffen at the disturbance, his head shooting up between his arms to look at the intruder. His steely eyes meet yours and soften, along with his body and he gives you a grin, clearly pleased to see you. He pushes himself up and flips upright to land on his feet before turning to greet you.

“Hey y/n,” He smiles again and grabs a towel off a rack to wipe his face and hair.

He begins to walk toward you and you almost forget your mission. He looks so handsome, especially with that wide grin that he typically only reserves for you. His green hair is damp, making it a slightly darker shade than usual, and he drapes the towel over the back of his neck. He halts in front of you, his hands moving to grip each end of the towel casually. “What’s up?” He says.

You realize you haven’t taken a breath for a few moments, and you inhale to reply to him. Rookie mistake.

The smell of him hits you again, and you cough without warning. Shit, you think. Don’t screw around, y’n. Get this damn mosshead in the shower with you pronto.

“Hey,” You reply, forcing yourself into a smile. “Just came up here to check on you. How are you doing?”

He smiles again, the oblivious bastard. “Oh, okay. I’m fine. Just doing the usual,” he replies. “Shit, your face had me going for a second. I thought something might be wrong,”

He chuckles. You pause a beat too long. He notices. Fuck.

“…is there something wrong, y/n?” He asks, now somewhat nervous.

“Oh no!” You say too quickly. “No, no, nothing’s wrong. I just came up here because…”

You know you need to calm down if you’re going to attempt anything that mildly looks like seduction. You take a breath and drop your gaze, now looking at him from underneath your eyelashes flirtatiously.

“I came up here because I was about to take a shower...” You place a hand on his warm chest and push up to the shell of his ear. You lower your voice. “And I was wondering if you might want to join me?”

You feel him stiffen again beneath the hand on his chest and his breath hitch. His hands come up to lightly grip your hips.

“You what?” He asks, his voice suddenly a little rougher.

You kiss the soft skin just beneath his angled jaw. “Join me. In the shower.” You repeat.

His grip on your hips tightens for a second before he grabs your hand suddenly, pulling you towards the hatch of the Crow’s Nest. It’s so fast that you almost can’t process what’s happening. He opens the hatch with his foot.

“Oh, so you want to come?” You manage. He swoops you up into his arms and jumps down the hatch without regard to the ladder. You land firmly on the deck below and he doesn’t bother to set you down.

“Zoro?” You ask, mesmerized by the concentration on his face. He shifts to hold you with one arm as he opens the door to the bath house room, slamming it behind him. He sets you down and wraps strong arms around your waist, kissing your neck.

“Get in the shower. Now.” He commands. Internal screams. And in that moment, as the water turns on and your simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette quickly strips away the rest of his clothes, you don’t know what you’re more excited about, the amazing sex that you’re about to have, or the fact that the simple, oblivious, gorgeous greenette is finally going to be fucking clean.

“Get in the shower. Now.” Zoro commands.

Holy shit, you think. If I’d known this would be the reaction, I’d’ve done it ages ago.

Zoro can barely keep his hands off of you, only pausing for a brief moment to reach behind him and turn on the faucet. His calloused fingers roam your clothed body, and you instinctively arch into him. He hums with approval. His lips, hungry for contact, pepper your jaw and neck with affection. You sigh and push closer, only slightly embarrassed when you feel him smirk against your skin. He knows you want him. The knot low in your stomach confirms this. His hands grip your ass, pulling your hips together, and you feel that he wants you too. Through the rough material of his pants, you feel his insistent desire and you can’t help but moan quietly. This elicits a moan from the greenette as well, his head falling to your shoulder, and you pull yourself out of your depravity long enough to feel smug.

“A bit excited are we?” You tease in a whisper.

He growls and pulls your shirt off of your shoulder to bite your collarbone. “Did you not hear me the first time?” His hands go to the waistband of your shorts. “Get. In. The. Shower.”

Your vaingloriousness quickly falls to the wayside as he unbuttons your shorts and pulls them down swiftly along with your underwear. You feel a rush of heat over your body and your urgency now matches his. Deftly, your fingers do away with his pants and boxers as one of his hands now gropes your naked ass. The other, ever more impatient, moves to the nape of your neck and the collar of your shirt. All of your attention, by necessity, is on getting him naked, so you almost don’t notice the rip of fabric being torn from your body until you feel your nipples suddenly harden with exposure to the air in the room.

You mewl as the steam fills up the small cubicle. He doesn’t give you any more time. He lifts you up. “Wrap your legs around me.” It isn’t a question. You comply. With a moan, you feel your core tighten as another flood of wetness seeps out of your pussy.

He groans too. “Fuck,” He can feel your wetness against the base of his cock. He steps the two of you into the shower.

The heat of the water is only matched by the heat between the two of you. Your legs, already wobbly, drop to the floor as he pushes you against the wall, the water streaming down his back as he leans back to look at you. Zoro is sex personified. It’s almost too overwhelming to take in all at once. His breathing is ragged. Your eyes and hands devour his broad chest, feeling each hard plane and individually curated muscle. His hair, now saturated with water, has evolved from its usual hue to a deep jewel toned emerald. His jaw is tight, but his full lips are parted with anticipation. His silver eyes, intense and hooded, bore through you, disarming you with their fervor.

He can’t take it anymore.

His lips crush to yours and you groan loudly against his mouth. One of his hands tangles through your hair, holding your mouth exactly where he wants it. His tongue sweeps across your bottom lip, and you gladly open your mouth for his perusal. His other hand moves to your full breast, massaging it roughly for a moment before he deftly flicks his thumb over your erect nipple. You squirm under his touch. He hums because he knows you love when he plays with your tits. Your hand drifts down to his length, gently caressing the skin there.

“Y/n,” He breathes, ripping his mouth from yours as you wrap your delicate fingers around the base of his cock. The water, hot and unrelenting, streams down your arm as you do so, and you sigh at the warmth of the contact. You’ve always been impressed by every part of Zoro, and his penis was no exception. You marvel at his thick length like it’s the first time you’ve ever been blessed with the opportunity to touch such a monument of masculine sexuality.

As you continue your ministrations, his lips trail down your neck and collarbone slowly, all the way to the height of your breast. He intentionally avoids your sensitive peak, and you squeeze his cock lightly as if to say, no fair. The hand in your hair moves to your hip.

He chuckles and slowly, painfully, flicks his tongue over your nipple. Once, twice, three times, before he begins to swirl it around the area. And to make matters worse, he mirrors his movements on your other breast with his opposite hand. He is playing dirty.

Dirtier than he is after 6 days without a shower, you think sarcastically to yourself.

He interrupts your thought by suddenly taking your erect peak into his mouth and sucking harshly. Your other hand immediately shoots grip to his green tresses, urging his mouth to continue. You begin to pant, the steam from the shower making the air thick and hot and damp. You feel the hand that was on your hip suddenly playing around the edges of your wet folds. He starts with your inner thighs, only his pinky brushing up against your aching core. You begin to pump him faster, moving to play with his balls every so often. Though he is trying to remain composed, his ragged breathing gives him away and his patience with teasing you begins to slip. Zoro’s thumb begins to rub your clit while his fingers move to your dripping opening.

Despite his own almost unbearable desire, he can’t resist taunting you a little. He pulls his mouth away from your breast to look at you. “Is that the shower I’m feeling, or are you really this wet, y/n?”

You see the cocky glint his eye and you want to wipe that smirk right off his face. Without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, hoisting yourself up to hover right above his stiff cock. Though he is taken off guard, he does not falter as he reflexively moves his hands to catch you. His strong hands hold you up under your ass as his mouth falls open slightly in surprise. He had enough strength for the both of you, and he holds you up with ease, keeping his balance and ensuring your safety as well.

You raise an eyebrow and tease your wet opening over his hard cock. You envelope the very tip of him, groaning as you feel him already stretching you. You both shiver with the promise of what is to come. Or who, is to come.

“Goddamn it, y/n, I can’t take it anymore,” He growls and slams you down onto him, immediately filling you to the hilt. The fullness nearly overwhelms you, your sight momentarily leaving you as you feel every thick inch of him against your inner walls. One strong arm wraps around the small of your back as he continues to hold you up. You love that he doesn’t need the wall for support, and your hand goes to grope his muscular shoulder and bicep in appreciation of his power.

Zoro, as with everything he does, is always intense in sex, and this time is no exception. The concentration is palpable on his face, a small v creasing between his eyebrows. His face is contorted in pleasure and a groan rumbles through his chest. His jaw is tight but his mouth is soft as he begins to thrust roughly into you.

“Oh God, Zoro,” You head lolls back, exposing your neck to him. He seizes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck and jaw, whispering your name again and again each iteration a little more wild, a little more broken. His cock feels incredible inside of you, the angle of each thrust stroking that undeniable pleasure point. The scene is entirely erotic. It’s all too much—far too much.

Each thrust is punctuated by a moan and the slapping of wet skin to wet skin. You feel Zoro’s body stiffen and you know that he’s getting close. The tell-tale build in your own core reflects the sentiment. With each stroke, you climb higher and higher and higher until your ecstasy is inexorable.

“Z-Zoro…” You manage with a gasp. “I’m about t-to…” He growls and his thrusts become even more wild—hard, manic, sure. Your lips find his ear and you gently tug on his earrings with your teeth, your last conscious action before your climax overtakes you. This is Zoro’s undoing.

“Y/n!” He yells, and you feel his seed spill hot inside of you.

You drown together in your pleasure, the waves crashing over both of you relentlessly. When your body is spent, you crumble against his chest and he wraps both of his arms around you. He kisses the top of your head, and rubs your back affectionately as he whispers your name under the still warm water. After a few moments, he sets you down. He offers his arm for stability and you take it with gratitude, leaning against him for another few moments before you separate. He smiles lazily down at you, almost bashful at his display. He rubs his free hand against the back of his neck, a slight flush on his face. You grin back and grab the bottle of soap from behind him and place it in his hand.

“Now,” You say after a long moment. “Get clean, marimo.”

He narrows his eyes. “You tricked me,” He says knowingly.

You grab your own body wash and begin to lather up. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

He stares for another long moment, considering, before he finally shrugs and squeezes some soap out onto his hands and begins to do the same.

You smile and kiss his cheek.

“Honestly,” He says, that grin creeping back on his face. “If this is what showering is going to be like with you around, I’ll shower every goddamn day.”

[churipu]

𐙚 THREE TIMES NANAMI MADE YOU CRY ⋆ ˚｡

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warning. referral to the reader as 'wife'

note. i just felt so mellow today — because a lot of sad nanami edits have been passing by in my fyp and i'm about to have a mental breakdown because of it, when i catch gege >:( a lil note, i cried writing this bcs i miss nanami so much help

✴ ONE : WHEN HE PROPOSED TO YOU

it took him a short time to realize that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you — he sees you cooking breakfast at the crack of dawn just for him before he goes to work, and he realizes that, yes, you were the one for him.

"do you want to marry me?"

your head turned to him slowly, eyes following just a few seconds after and you blinked, "i'm sorry, what?" you ask him.

nanami's eyes raised up to meet yours, "do you want to marry me?" he repeats his question calmly.

it was a day like every other — the both of you sitting on the couch, the television on yet nobody's paying attention to it. nanami has his eyes on the magazine in his grasp, and you were on your phone, scrolling through social media.

"yeah, of course i do."

nanami takes out a velvet colored box from his pocket and opens it up, you stared at him in confusion; wondering if this was a joke or not, is he actually proposing to you while you were in your pjs? but that actually didn't bother you — it was the fact he is proposing to you.

"marry me." he murmurs out softly, taking the beautiful ring out of its place, waiting for your acknowledgement.

your tears began flowing out and it took nanami by surprise, "sweetheart, i'm sorry. was it too sudden? you don't have to—" you shook your head at him, wiping your tears away.

"i'm just so . . . happy, ken."

that was the first time he made you cry.

✴ TWO : HIS WEDDING VOWS

your wedding was a simple ceremony. it was filled with fun and laughter, your loved people were there — his loved people were there, gojo and his students were there. it was just, a one fine day, really.

when it comes to the delivering of vows, traditionally; the groom goes first.

"y/n, i'm not good with my words, but you know me better than anyone else, so i assume you know that as well. we met five years ago when i bought a casse-croûte in a bakery you worked in; and if you had told me then that we'd be standing here and i'd be spending the rest of my life with you, maybe i wouldn't believe in you and told you that you were saying nonsense.

first and foremost, i would never thought that a one stop shop in a bakery would lead me to the love of my life — that day, i decided to stop by the bakery you worked in because my usual place was closed for the day, when i think about that, i get so overwhelmed; if my usual shop had opened that very day, maybe you would be standing here with another man, another man who is not me.

y/n, you are the most curious person i have ever met in my life. and i am pretty sure you are asking yourself now, what is kento thinking of right now? the answer is you. i am thinking about you now, later, and forever. from the first day you asked me if i liked casse-croûte, i have not once stopped thinking about you.

i was never a person who sought for relationship or thought of it a lot in the past, but when you came into my life. i began thinking of my future with you, making our own happy family, having kids, traveling the world, all of that. the moment i saw you take your time to wake up before me to cook me breakfast before i go to work, i knew i just had to make you my wife. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.

you love me and completed me in ways i do not know existed, and my love — i promise you, that from here onwards, i will continue to love you and every piece of you and for who you are yet to become. i promise to be your husband, your best friend, your partner in crime as you always like to name it, and your number one supporter, also as you name it.

above all, i promise to show you how lucky i am to have you in my life. i cannot wait to start a new chapter in my life with you, i love you."

it was safe to say that everyone in the room was crying, including you (and gojo, who had to be escorted out by megumi because the male was straight up sobbing loudly).

✴ THREE : WHEN HE DIED

shibuya. october 31, 2018. god, how much you dreaded every single thing that happened in there — just the thought of october coming after that year made your stomach churn in sadness.

the day a lot of people lost their life, including nanami.

nanami is a strong man, and you know so. you believed in him, never did you once stopped believing in your husband; but the whole time nanami was fighting for his and everyone's life in shibuya, you were back at home with your few months old son.

"daddy is going to be okay, yeah? he's gonna be back soon," you cooed to your son despite the rising wariness.

but no, nanami never came back.

the one to break the news was no other than itadori yuuji himself, the sole witness to your husband's passing — he knocked on your door, beaten up, although his wounds were tended to. you knew the shibuya incident scarred the young boy with something that couldn't be closed off now or maybe ever.

"he's not coming back, is he?" you ask the teen with a sad smile.

itadori broke down on your porch that day. and you, nanami's wife was the one comforting him, after all, watching someone you care die in front of you was traumatizing. but itadori blamed himself for nanami's death — he was baffled when you pulled him into a tight hug, "it's my fault y/n-san! i killed him. he's dead because of me."

as much as nanami doesn't display his affection to itadori, you were a witness to how nanami really feels towards the young boy. telling you how he wishes your son would grow up to be just like itadori, bubbly and energetic. nanami cares about itadori like the boy was his own — although failing to show it.

"did he . . . did he say anything before he . . ?"

itadori cried in your embrace, "he . . . said he was sorry. for not coming back. and that he loves you and your son so much . . ." itadori was barely taking breaths in, he was hyperventilating in your arms, "he said he was sorry that he won't be able to accompany you to malaysia."

"okay." you didn't cry as itadori was breaking the news to you, you couldn't.

nanami's death quieted you — you didn't cry the first week, still not believing he was actually gone. finding yourself sitting on the couch, waiting for the male to open the door and to call out for you, "y/n, i'm home."

but it never happened. nanami was really gone. he's really dead.

grief is such an odd feeling, you relied on itadori to look after your son for the first two weeks as you didn't find yourself in the right mind to be capable of taking care of your own flesh and blood. a day before your son was going back into your care — you went grocery shopping, to buy things both nanami and you used to buy.

it was a mistake on your part not to use a basket or a trolley, putting all the stuff on the cashier counter was hard work. and as the baby food you put on top of the pile slipped through your fingers and dropped onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere, you can't help but to let a few stray tears out.

your silent sobs turning into a full blown breakdown in the middle of a grocery shop as everything began coming in, a reality check.

that nanami was no longer going to be there with you again, you couldn't feel him anymore, you couldn't hear him anymore, you couldn't smell his cologne anymore.

but the world doesn't stop for that, it will keep going and you had to go on with your life without him.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[lcriedlastnight]

Hi :)

Is this the request? :

Friends to lovers with Lando and him being absolutely love sick, mesmerised with reader and one time it's just them two together and he says "For my sanity, we should start dating."

anon. i am literally in love with you. thank you soooooo much. mwah!!

tw: fem! reader, swears, lando’s first win, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.6k

the paddock was bustling, the heat was sweltering. after lando's horrible sprint race, everyone on his team was desperate to make today's race go well. they'd gotten the brit his favourite pre-race snack, given him extra blankets and pillows for his drivers room couch, they'd even gotten oscar to agree to not complain about how loud lando's pre- race playlist was! but the one thing (person) that could actually calm lando down and get him into the racing mindset was nowhere to be seen.

you'd been in the cafeteria, lando begging you to come to states for this race, he had told you that there was a feeling in his gut that this race was going to be great. so you braved the miami heat, just for him. just like each and every time you came to a race. you did actually believe that this race would be special, you shared that gut feeling with lando, so you'd begged your boss for time off and told your lecturer that it was a family members wedding in miami that you just found out you were invited to. you didn't really try hard on the excuse for your lecturer, knowing he didn't care less if you were there or not, just as long as you had submitted all the assignments that were due.

so that's why you were sitting at a table in the cafeteria, with your phone on do not disturb and you headphones in blasting your studying playlist in your ears, typing away on your computer. you didn't know that everyone was looking for you. it's not like you were that well hidden anyways, you were just sitting in the corner of the cafeteria and the motor home wasn't that big. it certainly wasn't big enough to lose someone when there was ten plus people searching for them.

you don't notice one of lando's engineers sitting at the opposite side of the table, as you try your best to finish your essay before the race starts. you do, however feel about seven light taps on the table that makes you pull your eyes from the laptop screen in front of you. you pull your left ear free from the music coming through your headphones.

"hi?" you say, looking at the man. you didn't know who he was, just that he was an engineer.

"everyone is looking for you." he tells you, a little frantic. this worries you.

"what? why? what's wrong?" you ask him, not sure if he knew what was wrong or if he was just the messenger.

"dunno." well that answers that. "lando's been asking for you for the past hour and a half. he's been saying it's urgent." your eyebrows raise in concern. you quickly close your laptop and slide your headphone around your neck. you slip out the chair, thanking the engineer, and heading to lando's driver room.

you knock a few times before just opening the door. the sight you see almost makes you burst out laughing. lando is in his fireproofs, you can see the peak of papaya from underneath the multiple blankets on top of him. there must be about seven on top of him, all of them varying in colour and patterns. lando was practically buried under the weight of them all, stuck to the couch. oscar stood at one end of the couch, you suppose he was the one to blame for this, although this could be the work of lando himself. either way you didn't really know what this was supposed achieve.

"what is going on?" you ask after assessing the situation they had both gotten lando into. "i'm really confused right now." you smile though, the scene still hilarious looking.

"we couldn't find you anywhere and lando needed you." oscar explains, although all it does is leave you more confused than when you first walked in. in what way were you the same as seven blankets?

"right. makes sense. seeing as i am seven blankets. i can see how this would help." you tease them, sarcasm dripping from your words as you lay your laptop, phone and headphones on the nearby table.

oscar rolls his eyes, while yours flit to lando who stays quiet to let oscar explain. you swear you could see a hint of red on his cheeks but you don't get enough time to see if it actually is, in fact blush because oscar is talking again and stealing your attention.

"well he told me that to get in the 'racing mindset' he gets you to lay on top of him and rest all of your weight on top of him so i thought putting blankets on top of him would simulate you laying on top of him!" oscar grins, like his idea is actually a good one. you feel like groaning at his dumbness. a part of you is taken aback that lando had told oscar about what he called his 'pre-race ritutal'.

"right well i'm here now, so why don't you go do your own race prep while i sort out whatever is going on here?" you suggest to oscar, he can tell it's not a suggestion though. so he does what he's told, wishing lando good luck on the track but before he closes the door behind him he whispers to you "and you think he doesn't like you like that? he quite literally needs you to lay on top of him to calm him down". you just sigh and walk over to the driver, once oscar is finally gone.

"what are you doing, stupid boy?" you ask, sitting by his feet on the couch. lando only staring back in response. you stare back until he responds.

"missed you?" he offers. this time you can't hold back your laugh. if your eyes were closed from the laughter you would see the way lando's light up at the sound of your laugh. the pride he felt to the one who made you laugh, it was better than any other feeling. once your laughter stops, you pull back the blankets. they actually didn't weigh much at all, which makes you wonder why lando was acting as if he was trapped under them.

"it's like oscar said, i needed you and literally no one could find you so i went to him for help. then he suggested that and i just went along with it." lando helps shrug off the blankets as he properly explains. the brunette ends up sitting next to you, eyes looking into yours.

it's your turn to explain. "i was trying to finish my essay before the race started, seeing as i won't have time tonight. we'll hopefully be going out afterwards." you explain your 'dissapearance’.

lando nod and hums then checks his phone, that was hidden in between blanket layers. it's almost time for him to go out to the garage and he's literally had no time with you at all. how was he supposed to race in these conditions?

"that's alright, love. guess we just need to make up for lost time right now." lando states, his hands grabbing yours and pulling you on top of him. lando's breaths instantly even out. you didn't know if he was panicking and getting in his head about the race or what it was, all you knew was that you laying on top of him, putting all of your weight on him was helping. and that's all you really wanted.

lando's breaths hit you neck at you run your fingers across the bridge of his nose. usually when you guys would do this before races, you would run your fingers through his hair, but his latest injury on the bridge of his nose made you want to run your fingers across his cut lightly. lando shudders but relaxes once your light movements continue. you both stay in that position until an alarm goes off on your phone, signalling at lando needs to be at the garage in five minutes (you always set two alarms because there's no way you're getting lando out of here on time). with the way lando jumps you think he must have been seconds away from falling asleep. he confirms it by muttering "stupid fucking alarm." as grumpily as ever.

"right lan, let's get you moving." you say reluctant as you move off of him. he whines like a child and his arms cling onto your hips to try and stop you. he uses no force so you stand up easily.

"for the sake of my sanity, we should start dating." lando mutters, if it was a decibel quieter, you don't think you would've hear him. but you did. you don't think it was meant for your ears, either judging by the drivers reaction to your "what?".

you can see the cogs turning in his mind, does he try and wrangle himself out of this or does he stand his ground and admit his feelings. he thinks for a second.

"i like you. you're driving me insane. please can i at least take you out on a date?" lando is not above begging, he will literally fall to his knees if it means you will accept his offer. before you can, the alarm goes off on your phone.

you smirk at him, an idea popping into your head. "win today and we'll go out on tuesday." you tell him. lando groans, his head falling onto your shoulder. "if i do you have to give me a winners kiss." lando bargains.

"deal".

safe to say, you never thought that yours and lando's first kiss would be on the parc ferme, after he's just won his first face. nor did you think you would have to be getting ready for a date with him two days later. safe to say that essay was not getting submitted on time.