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#I barely ever paint backgrounds so
otiksimr · 2 years
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A gift for @seawing-vibes
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the-alan-price-combo · 3 months
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An Animals diorama I made, based on the Pop Gear music video of "House of the Rising Sun"!!
🌅🐾✨️
(Detailed pictures under the cut!)
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skelecentral · 1 year
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“Eepy….”
Forever incomplete painting
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
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Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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pitchsidestories · 1 month
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lovers II Keira Walsh x Williamson!Reader
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masterlist I word count: 2468
a/n: Hi, we realized that it's our 100th oneshot which sounds absolutely wild, so enjoy. For the readers who wait for the Emily Fox fanfic it will come out next. <3
You were in love with Ibiza.
In love with the beaches and the sunshine, the palm trees and the blue of the ocean.
You were in love with the clubs and bars, your sister and her friends took you to.
But above all, you were in love with your sister’s best friend.
The afternoon sun painted the hotel room in soft golden light as you slipped into a short dress. You could still feel the salty air and the sun from earlier that day on your skin as you began applying mascara to your eyelashes. Except for a bit of hunger, you felt fully content.
“Ready for dinner? You look gorgeous by the way.“, Keiras voice said from behind you.
You hadn’t noticed her coming in.
You flinched, almost stabbing yourself in the eye with the mascara wand.
Keira smiled apologetically at your reflection in the mirror.
You watched as her gaze started to travel down your body, taking in every curve in your tight-fitting dress.
With a smile you turned towards her and bridged the gap between the two of you.
“Are you kidding? Look at you… Your curls are so pretty and soft.“, you whispered, gently running her fingers through her reddish brown hair.
You loved the way the salt water had restored Keiras natural hair texture.
“My curls? I just didn’t straighten my hair.“, she laughed.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, barely visible through the light sunburn on her skin.
Completely enamoured, you beamed at her: “I love it.“
You were about to lean forward to kiss her when someone cleared their throat behind you.
Your heart stopped while you pulled apart. You ran through possible explanations for this situation in your head, just in case you would turn around to face your sister.
Instead, Alex Scott watched the two of you with a knowing grin.
“You do? Oh hi, Alex.“, Keira greeted the former football player.
“Little Williamson is right though. She could have done something with fashion but…“, Alex said without finishing her thought.
You rolled your eyes, she had always tried to convince you to work in the fashion industry but you wouldn’t trade your job as an English teacher in Barcelona for anything in the world.
“She chose to teach people English in Spain and honestly, it was the best decision ever.“, you finished for Alex.
Keira laughed: “I agree with that.“
Leah appeared next to Alex in the doorway. Subconsciously, you tried to put more distance between yourself and Keira.
“Of course, you do, Kei. Because that way you can talk to someone in your mother tongue almost every day. How did the Catalan interview go again?“, your sister teased.
Her best friend released a tired groan: “Don’t remind me.“
Alex changed the subject, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder: “Now that everyone’s dressed up, let’s get some dinner in before we go clubbing.“
“Sounds like a good idea.”, you agreed in a good mood, the sea air made you hungry.
At the restaurant Keira studied the menu thoroughly before looking at you with an innocent smile on her lips.
“Everything here sounds so good, do you want to share?”, she asked.
“Sure.”, you replied happily. Above your heads the fairy lights were switched on and you could hear the waves crashing on to the shore in the background.
The romantic atmosphere was quickly disturbed by your older sister.
“Excuse me? I thought you’d share with me!”, she pouted, sending glances at the Barca player which could kill.
“What about your girlfriend? Doesn’t she want to share with you?”, Keira asked in return, cheeks flushed.
“Yes, Lee, no need to be that dramatic about it.”, Alex Greenwood intervened laughing.
“I’m not dramatic.”, Leah countered smirking.
“That’s just how she’s.”, you explained cheekily.
“Why don’t we order food for the table so we can all share?”, your girlfriend suggested hoping this would calm the Blonde Arsenal defender down.
“Yes, that’s perfect. I’m in.”, the two Alex’s declared grinning.
“Same, you too, Leah?”, you turned around to investigate your sister’s face, waiting for her reaction.
“Sure.”, she nodded, sounding much calmer already.
 “What about a first round of cocktails?”, Jess wanted to know.
“Please.”, Leah answered.
A few minutes later the drinks arrived at your table, beaming you toasted with her. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.”, she responded grinning.  
The sweetness and the alcohol sparked the desire in you to touch your lover’s curly hair again.
“Stop it.”, Keira demanded giggling.
“I’m not doing anything.”, you remarked in a not guilty tone.
“Yes, you’re. Stop it.”, she bit her lip nervously.
“Fine.”, you sighed defeated, quickly finishing your cocktail.
After the last sip you stood up smiling delighted at the other girls. “Girls, are we ready for the club now?”
“Let’s go.”, Alex Greenwood chirmed.
The sun was long gone now, the moon and the stars shown brightly as you and your sister former and current teammates joined the Ibizan night life.
Something your sister and you both shared was the passion for music. While Leah preferred to sing you would take every chance you could get to dance. Before Keira your first love has been rhythm and beats.
“Come on, Kei.”, Alex nudged the red-haired woman who admired you from the distance.
“I don’t dance. I’m here for the drinks.”, she waved the sports journalist off.
“But I do. Come on, Alex.”, Leah remarked cheerfully.
“Coming.“, Alex laughed and let the defender pull her into the direction of the dance floor.
The other Alex jumped up as well, following closely behind: “Hey, wait for me.“
You caught Keiras eye from across the room and danced your way over to her. You were not ready to stop yet but you also didn’t want to leave her alone.
Keira reached for your wrist with a laugh: “Stop twirling around, y/n.“
“Why?“, you asked, spinning out of her grasp.
“Just because.“
You stopped for a moment, studying her face. There was something serious and pleading in her eyes that you didn’t understand. You only wanted to continue dancing with your friends. “Keira…“
You interrupted yourself, taking in a sharp breath in surprise as two hands laid on your hips and spun you around.
A man in his mid-thirties and clearly drunk grinned at you. His gaze traveled down to your neckline while he asked you something that your brain didn’t seem to comprehend. Apparently he wanted you to dance with him but everything about him made clear that he had other things in mind than just dancing.
You froze in place, not sure if you felt disgusted or disgusting.
Just when you were about to say something, your sister squeezed between him and you and pushed him back: “Sorry, no. That’s my sister!“
“And she’s already taken.“, Keira added. You hadn’t noticed that Keira had gotten up from her seat as well.
Leahs head whipped towards her best friend: “What?“
“Uhm…“, you mumbled as you watched the man retreat with his hands raised in surrender.
You desperately tried to find a good reason to change the subject but you just couldn’t come up with one.
“Who is it, y/n? One of your colleagues or one of the Barca girlies?“, Leah asked, her voice tinted with anger.
“It’s…uhm…“, you started and forced yourself not to look at Keira. Lying would be so easy right now. But did you actually want to keep hiding?
Your sister got impatient: “Just tell me.“
“Keira.“, was all you could get out and prayed that you made the right choice.
The two best friends looked at each other. Keira nodded slowly: “It’s me.“
“Wait, you?! When? How? She’s my little sister!“ Leahs eyebrows furrowed in anger.
Keira shrugged, trying to keep her voice calm: “In Barcelona… it just happened.“
Your sister turned towards you with her jaw set: “We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning!“
She stormed off without waiting for an answer and you quietly wondered where she would go.
Keira and you ended the night there and went back to your hotel room.
You walked out on the balcony overlooking the ocean, Keira followed right behind you.
“She’s really mad.“, you said nervously into the night sky.
The midfielder wrapped her arms around you and rolled her eyes: “She can’t be mad about this.“
You knew she had a point.
“No, Lee is more upset about the fact that we didn’t tell her.“
“Still. I can talk with her if you want me to.”, Keira offered while you kept watching the waves come and go which was scarily similar to your older sister’s temper. Deep down you knew she would eventually calm down.
“No, I’ll do it, it’s fine.”, you assured the Barcelona player before kissing her temple softly.
For a moment she closed her eyes under your touch. “She’ll be fine.”, the midfielder whispered in a convinced tone as her lips touched yours in a heartfelt kiss.
“What was the kiss for?”, you raised an eyebrow at her curiously.
“For good luck.”, Keira replied smirking.
“But she said tomorrow so maybe we could just go inside and..”, you begun rambling.
“You think that’s a good idea?”, your girlfriend interrupted you with a doubtful look on her face.
“No, I’ll do it now.”, you sighed, knowing fully well that some things shouldn’t be put on hold. Although you’d miss the comforting hug of the midfielder who pretended to hate them but always made an exception for you.
Cautiously you stood at the entry of the hotel room your sister and her girlfriend were staying in. “Lee, can we chat outside?”
Without a word the older blonde got up and put on her shoes, signalling that she was ready to talk to you outside.
For a while the two of you walked silently on the sand which felt still warm under your naked feet.
“So, you and Keira, huh?”, Leah broke the silence, sounding more curious than mad this time.
“Yeah.”, you answered timidly.
“Since when?” the defender continued asking.
“We got closer when she came to Barcelona.”, you confessed.
“That was forever ago.”, she noted slightly hurt by your reply.
“Yes, but we just started dating a few months ago.”, you added quickly. This much was true. Undoubtedly, you always had a soft spot for your sister’s best friend. The more time you two spend together, the more it became obvious that there was more than just friendship.
“And you didn’t tell me.”, Leah swallowed hard through that realization.
“You didn’t ask me.”, you reminded her.
“If you’re dating my best friend? How was I supposed to know.”, she retorted.
“No, in general, it’s mostly about you when you call me.”, you countered.
“I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry. But I thought you’d tell me such things.”, the defender apologized, her skin despite the tan turned pale.
“It’s okay. I guess we weren’t great sisters for each other recently.”, you admitted guiltily.
Leah nodded in reluctant agreement: “I guess we weren’t.“
There was a moment of silence between the two of you, not uncomfortable but thoughtful.
“But we could do better now.“, you said determinedly,
Your sister stopped walking. You only realized that wasn’t on your side anymore after a few more steps.
You turned towards her and caught her staring at you.
“Y/n?“, she asked.
“Yes?“
“Are you happy?“
You smiled at her: “Very.“
“With Kei?“
“Yes.“, you confirmed again.
Leah studied your face for a moment, searching for any indication of a lie before she finally nodded once: “Okay.“
“Okay?“, you echoed with hopefulness in your voice. You didn’t want to fight with your sister. You wanted her and Keira in your life.
Leah kicked up some sand with her shoe: “Yes, okay. I think I can live with that.“
“Good.“, you beamed and slowly continued your walk, waiting for your sister to take her place by your side again.
You thought your talk was over when your sister suddenly spoke up again: “Y/n?“
You looked at her, signalling her to continue.
“Just because you live a life outside of the public eye doesn’t mean I’m not interested in your life or I’m not proud of you.“
Her words caught you by surprise. You frowned at her in confusion. “Wait, you’re proud of me?“
“Why do you sound so surprised? Obviously I’m proud of you.“
You stared down at the fine sand under your feet: “Sorry.“
Another break in your conversation arose. Apparently, struggling to express your emotions properly ran in your family.
“Not everyone has the bravery to go abroad for work… I would not.“, Leah continued.
You looked back up at her: “Really?“
She nodded slowly: “You know how much I love home. And Arsenal. I just couldn’t.“
Hearing this filled you with pride but at the same time, you had to suppress a smile because you really couldn’t imagine your sister anywhere else.
“True, you’re such a homebody.“, you laughed.
Your sister smirked and gave you a small shrug: “See, we’re just very different.“
“Yes, but that’s okay.“, you assured her. You could feel the tension dissolve slowly.
Leah raised an eyebrow: “I will still have to talk to Keira though.“
You let out a groan: “Oh no, not the big sister talk.“
“Oh yes, even for my best friend.“
“Fine, but try and be nice, okay?“, you asked innocently.
“Of course.“
“Thank you.“
She reached over and ruffled through your blonde hair: “Anything for my little sister.“
You tried to get revenge. You two were laughing like children while you chased her down the beach.
You never heard anything about their talk. Both Keira and Leah refused to tell you anything and stubbornly maintained their silence. You didn’t care anyway. They seemed closer than ever and that was all that mattered to you.
The next days were spend at the beach, enjoying the sun and the refreshing coolness of the sea.
“No. I’m not going into the water.“ Keira shook her head determinedly. She had spend the morning straightening her hair but to you, that was not a reason to miss out on swimming.
“Come on.“ You impatiently pulled at her arm.
Leah appeared on Keiras other side, pushing her forward. “You better go now.“
Together you barrelled towards the sea, falling over each as soon as you reached the water. The rest of your friend group burst out laughing,
Keira pushed her now wet hair back. It started to curl at the ends already.
“I hate you Williamsons!“, she laughed.
You kissed her cheek: “No, you don’t.“
“Not really, no.“, Keira admitted and pulled you towards her by your waist to kiss you.
Leah grimaced in disgust: “Okay, but you don’t have to kiss in front of me.“
“Stop complaining.“, you rolled your eyes.
Keira grinned at her: “You better get used to it, Lee.“
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beababoobies · 8 months
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ME AGAIN!!! WITH A SAL X READER REQUEST (again) THIS TIME AIDJSJDH. a porn one at that !!!!
i need sal so bad its an actual problem
just like. imagine reader n the gang r havin a little sleepover. and reader is just so inconsolably turned on for some reason (maybe sal had his hand on their thigh when they watched a movie or smthin), so when everyone is asleep they asks sal to help them out :,,,) (his fingers r just so long n pretty,, they cant help but want them lol)
mayb he has to keep them quiet somehow, mayb covers their mouth/puts his fingers in their mouth to muffle them
hes so shy and nervous and awkward but he’s having the time of his life, watching the reader’s reactions. mayb he cant help but get himself off too, too enraptured by the way reader struggles to gasp and whine against his fingers
GOD DAMN.
would love if u wrote this mootie 🫶🏼🫶🏼 no pressure ofc ofc ofc !! (fem bodied reader pls if u dont mind <3!)
(i might write this too, i love my mind sometimes 🙏)
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hey mootie!! Im giving you the fast pass because all the jjk stuff you repost got me into the series and I’m loving it, also cus you’re AMAZING! All characters are aged 20+ because this is based in chapter five of course, please do enjoy! :) (and for everyone waiting for their Hazbin requests to be filled - IT IS COMING! I am a busy woman.) 
Needy - Sal Fisher X Fem!Reader
words : 2k, warnings : SPICAYYYY!!, creampie, fingering, slightly public, needy!sal AND needy!reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys, c’mon), hold the moan trope
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The entire gang had been having more sleepovers ever since Sal and Todd had found the new house. Larry was moving in so it was just the normal next step, and you loved coming over so much. More specifically to spend time with your boyfriend, but also just to feel like old times again. Even Ash came from the city every once and a while, and this was one of those days.
Since it was Larry’s last day living in the Apartments, you had all agreed to made the most out of that small basement apartment you had spent so much of your awkward teen years in. You had been doing all the same shit you used to all day - smoking in the treehouse, playing card games for hours. 
You and Sal huddled up around his old gamebuddy, playing the games Larry had kept long forgotten in the corners of his room, Larry and Ash painting on a shared canvas, chatting about life while Larry’s old metal mixtapes blasted in the background, and Todd and Neil cuddled up on the beanbag in the corner, occasionally joining in their conversation, but mostly just cuddled up and enjoying each others company. All of this was wonderful, nostalgic - even healing. 
That was all up until Sal quietly suggested you all watched an old horror movie, and you were all huddled together in the dark, you with Sal leaning on your shoulder on your right, and Ash on your left, giggling and nudging you like old times. Larry laid out casually on the floor in front of you all because of how shit his eyes were from years of refusing glasses. Which should’ve been fine.
In fact - it was fine. Until Sal decided it would be a wonderful idea to put his hand on your thigh. Your bare thigh, just below where your miniskirt started. And even that - even that, you could’ve survived with some unwanted heat in your panties. But no, the blue fucker jumped at one of the scenes, hand sliding up the inside of your thigh to accidentally drag your skirt up, his hand knocking against your warm core - hand rubbing up against your clothed clit as he pulled his hand away, and all you could do was pull your hand away from where it was sweetly brushing through Ashley’s hair like you used to do, straight to your face to hide the unbelievably needy whine you would’ve let out.
“you okay?” Ashley whispers softly, looking over to you and you just nod quickly, watching her go back to watching the movie before shooting Sal a venomous glance, which he avoids nervously, already feeling your stare of death shoot through the side of his head. You pierced your lips together, putting one leg over the other and squeezing your thighs firmly shut, Sal’s hand now comfortably resting much, much lower on your thigh. Practically on your calve, as he preferred not to die tonight. 
But that’s when it started, the unwanted slick already gently collecting in your panties, your mind running through all the things you wanted to do to him - what you wanted him to do to you. God, your mind was like a dog in heat. You couldn’t even bear to focus on the movie, sitting there, cautiously eyeing up your dead silent boyfriend. His shirt ridden up his stomach just oh-so-slightly from the way he was slouched back, soft happy trail of blue peeking out from under his shirt. God, what you would do to pull those stupid red torn up jeans down - not even fully - and ride him until he was shooting blanks and sobbing under you. 
That is how it went on for the rest of the movie. That is exactly how it went on when you all decided the sleeping plan. That is where your mind still was when you and Sal decided to take the pullout couch, Todd and Neil in Lisa’s old room, and Larry sleeping on his bed with Ashley on a cot on his floor. With the thinnest fucking walls known to man kind. You should know - you grew up with the same ones. 
Sal yawned as he laid next to you, mask placed softly on the table right beside the couch, as well as his glass eye floating in a cup, looking at you nervously as he pulled the covers up over himself too, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him from behind, expecting you to be asleep by now - you were a heavy sleeper, he was an insomniac. It worked out like that. Until he heard a soft, half-whine of a whisper come from you. 
“S-sal..” you mumbled softly, pressing yourself back against him, causing him to let out a soft whine of his own, hand around your waist flinching ever so softly. “P-please baby, need you so bad..” you mumbled out softly, turning around to face him, seeing the needy tears in your eyes had him melting as well, piercing his lips together as he grips softly at your side.
“N-no, you know how thin these walls are - I’m sorry about earlier, but..” he says nervously as he watches you whine and writhe softly, pressing yourself up against him, one hand on his chest. That’s when you decide to make the move, grabbing his hand and moving to in-between your legs so he can feel how absolutely soaked through your panties are, causing him to experimentally run his fingers over them, biting down on his scarred lip so hard he’s concerned it might bleed. You can’t help a choked whine and a buck of your hips against his hand at that, looking up at him with those needy eyes. Fuck. 
He doesn’t say a word as he puts two shaky fingers to your lips, and you wrap your mouth around them without question, twirling your tongue around them and sucking on them like your life depended on it, all while he shakily pulled you panties to the side, prodding his fingers at your soaked hole, a quiet ‘fuck.’ Escaping his mouth when he slides one in with ease, feeling the vibrations around his fingers as you whine. “G-gotta be quiet, please - we h have to be quiet..” he mumbles out messily as he feels his cock throb to life in his sleep shorts, smearing precum across his thigh when he feels your cunt clench needily around his fingers.
He lets out a sigh of relief when you quickly nod at him, squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts to curl his long fingers inside of you, the obscene squealing noise making him whimper softly, hips accidentally bucking softly against your thigh as his cock tries to find some sort of friction - daydreaming about how easily he could slip inside you right now with how wet you are - how you would feel around his cock, velvety walks clenching around him and providing him that oh so delicious friction he was searching for. 
His thumb moves to gently circle your clit as you start to find a slow grinding rhythm against his hand, practically riding his fingers as he finds that delicious spongy spot on your walls and pushes his fingers up against it, causing your cunt to give another urgent and needy clench, more slick falling into his palm, making a mess as he tries his best not to whine himself.
The slippery sounds of friction, the feeling of your thigh twitching pressed up right against his own throbbing problem, or the way his fingertips are pressing up against the entrance to your throat, the way his other fingertips are pressed up against your velvety walls. It’s driving him beyond insane, to the point he’s thinking he might cum in his sleep shorts if it continues this way. And he didn’t bring an extra pair - and it would just be a waste if he didn’t cum inside of you - not while you were practically begging for it.  
“B-baby.” He whines out, catching your attention for a second, tears of pleasure falling softly down your face as your hips still, whining against his hand from the way you stopped while being so close - it was beyond downright embarrassing how quickly you were about to cum, and you were honestly glad he stopped you. “C-can i please put it in? J-just the tip, please baby, ‘s so sensitive. Need you so bad.” He whines quietly and softly, pressing his hard on against your thigh to back up his own statement, whining softly again. “Just wann’ cum inside you, please…” he whispers, watching you nod eagerly.
Pulling his fingers out of you with an obscenely wet pop, pulling your soaked panties to the side and he lets out an erotic sigh pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he pulled his shorts down, cock slapping to attention against his abdomen, precum beading from the sensitive tip as he shakily pulled your hips up, grabbing the base of his cock and gently rubbing it against your entrance, and you could hear how wet you were when he moved his tip to part your drenched lips and drag through them, whining into the crook of your neck as you grabbed his shoulders, brain fuzzy with the way his hot tip felt rubbing against your clit, sticky with your own slick. 
He bit down hard on your shoulder as his tip popped past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance, desperately rutting against you, trying not to whine or let slip how good it felt to be inside you - the way your hot, heady slick insides felt like they were trying to pull him in deeper. His hand cupped your mouth quickly, stopping you from making a sound as he gently pushed himself further inside you, feeling you grip tightly at his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as he broke his promise, pushing his cock inside of you, inch by desperate inch, trying not to slam his entire cock into you at once - which was unbelievably hard, considering how wet you were, and how desperate he was - his tip prodded at your cervix, making you jerk forward, groaning against the palm of his hand.
He rutted into you desperately, not daring to thrust properly, letting everyone else hear how wet and desperate you were, or even worse, how even needier he was for you, the head of his cock bumping against your sweet spot, the only sound in the air being the quiet sounds of your muffled whines, and the quiet rustling of sheets as he ground into you, abdomen rubbing against your clit as he did so, bringing you to the edge so much faster than you ever expected, cunt clenching around him, the sign that you were about to cum. He just nodded into the nape of your neck, hips refusing to stop. 
“m-me too, fuck, me too, me too ‘m gonna cum, ‘s too tight, ‘s so warm.” He half whines, half whispers right into your neck as he detaches his teeth from your shoulder for a second, before hurriedly latching them back onto your neck as you feel his cock violently twitch inside you, whining desperately into his hand as you felt yourself start to cum, cunt clenching around him desperately, slick flooding from you and creating an obscene squelching between you two as you spasmed and arched under him. 
He groaned into your neck as he quickly pulled his face from your neck, smashing his lips desperately against yours, muffling his own groans as he pushes himself as deep into you as he can go, cumming hot ropes into you as he stills, thighs twitching as he pulls his mouth from you, both of you panting and catching your breaths, feeling the warm liquid pool out of you and spill onto Sal’s abdomen as he lets out a small and raspy chuckle, still catching his breath.
 “You’re going to be the fucking death of me.” 
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luveline · 11 months
Note
hiyaa girlyy!! so i have a fic request and it's totally fine if you don't want to write / don't feel comfortable reading or doing it: and also, i'm not sure if someone thought of this yet, but how about spencer just being friends with a stripper. like their are murders ongoing abt strippers and spencer sees reader at one of the crime scènes and everybody's shocked since their sooo sweet and comfortable together? (and bonus point if she wears his jacket or something since it's cold)
thank you for your request! if you have more requests for this pairing please send them my way!
"I tried to call you!" 
Hotch looks up from his phone at the shout. He'd been texting Jessica one handed in an attempt to tell her and Jack that he won't be home tonight, and he isn't usually easily startled, but he isn't expecting you to talk to him. Or call him. 
He blinks back his fatigue —you're obviously not talking to him. You're almost nondescript in your hoodie, but Hotch isn't confident you're wearing any pants, or underwear. It was a rush job to bring everyone out from the club, and you and the rest of the dancers stand on the sidewalk in various states of undress. 
"Can we get some jackets, please?" Hotch asks, turning back to the beat cops standing by. "Thermal blankets? Anything?" 
When he turns back, Spencer's not where he was. Hotch casts his gaze back to you near the club doors, your hair messed up from the scuffle but your face intricate and untouched, just as pretty as the rest of your fellow dancers, and doubly so as you throw your arms around Spencer Reid's tall shoulders. 
"I'm so glad you're okay," Spencer says, squeezing you hard, your heels lifting off of the rain-sullied sidewalk. "I told you to stay home!" 
"I can't stay home, Spencer. How would I make money?" 
"I'll pay for the hours you miss, I told you that, too." 
"Baby, you couldn't afford it," you tease lightly, setting back down. Your hand immediately rises to Spencer's cheek, your painted nails scratching delicately at his skin. "I've missed you. Where have you been?" 
"California, then Albuquerque." 
"Killing bad guys?" 
Hotch doesn't consider Spencer a lonely guy, and he doesn't think he'd ever be collected enough to enter a strip club, and yet. There he is, hugging and checking over a stripper with as much care and tenderness as he'd show any member of the team. And judging by your smile, you're enamoured with him. Whether romantically or otherwise is anyone's guess. 
Morgan's, apparently. "Sorry, I'm sorry, does Reid have a girlfriend? Like, a…?" 
"You can say stripper," Emily says, though she's similarly nonplussed. "I mean, there's no way. Right?" 
"They're just friends," JJ says. 
The team turns to her in betrayal. Clearly, JJ knew about this and said nothing, and Hotch has things to do but this is so thoroughly bizarre that he gives himself five minutes of curiosity; he lets the others berate her for answers. 
"Come on, JJ! When did this happen? How did this happen?" Emily asks, her voice dropping to a scandalised whisper. 
In the background, Spencer peels out of his jacket that barely fits around your shoulders. You wear it anyhow, wrapping your arm through his and leaning on his shoulder. "Thanks, Dr. Reid." 
"I really wish you'd stay home when I tell you too." He rubs your arm amicably. 
"Her old boss was a typical heavy-handed sleaze," JJ explains, voice soft with sympathy. "Spence said he used to see her at the grocery store with bruises. She stayed with him for a few days and found a new club… He said she can smile through anything, even a broken wrist." 
Hotch understands. This part of Virginia pretends to be better than it is, and while you seem happy enough now in your profession, he knows it can't be easy. Spencer did for you what he would've done for anyone. You've clearly seen the good in him, treating him with a real and easy affection, adoring through shivers as you look up at him and ask, "Are you eating enough? You look tired." 
"I'm exhausted worrying about you. You're exhausting. Like, where are the sweatpants I got you? You'll get hypothermia." 
"I was trying not to get murdered. You're lucky I grabbed the hoodie." You turn to the team, as though you've known they were watching the entire time. "You wanna introduce me to your friends?" you ask. Hotch detects a hint of insecurity under all your bubbly sweetness. 
Spencer laughs loudly, ushering you forward with a hand on your shoulder. "Don't chicken out this time." 
"Don't embarrass me in front of the special agents!" you whisper. 
"I'm a special agent." 
"No, you're a doctor. He's a special agent." Your gaze narrows in on Hotch. "Hi, you're the boss, huh?" You eye his naked marriage finger briefly, and he knows you're kidding, but he still has to fight to stay expressionless as you continue, "How come handsome guys like you don't ever wanna see me dance?" 
Hotch puts out his hand. "Aaron Hotchner. It's nice to meet you." 
You shake his hand, though you stay as close to Spencer as you can manage without stepping on his shoes. "Right. Too respectful. It's really nice to meet you too, Agent Hotchner. Can you catch the bad guy soon? I'll end up on Spencer's cough again if I don't make rent." 
Morgan opens his mouth and Hotch promptly shuts him down with a raised hand. "We will. You have my word." 
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zaldritzosrose · 4 months
Text
Can't Stay Away Part 2 (Feyd-Rautha x Princess!Reader)
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Summary: Second daughter of the Emperor and you were well used to being ignored in favour of your sister. That was, until you met Feyd-Rautha, nephew to the Harkonnen Baron. A tourney of old, bringing back the traditions of champions and favours brought him to your side - but how close would he stay?
TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, mild mentions of neglect towards reader (ignored in favour of Irulan), Feyd being a badass, face sitting, cunnilingus, fingering, lashings of sexual tension, reader enjoying a blood covered Feyd, Irulan being a little bit of a bitchy sister.
Part 1 Here
(Maybe a part 3, we'll see)
Words: 2689
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The air was thicker than ever as Feyd finished preparing himself for the tournament. You had helped him repaint his torso before fitting the lightweight and black armour to his body. There had been something so intimate, ignoring your encounter earlier, in the whole situation.
Preparing your champion for battle. Watching as he selected his weapons and psyched himself up for the impending battles. He was fascinating to watch, you realised. And it only made you more excited for what was to come.
“My father has decided we are to publicly show our favour,” You mused, as Feyd hooked his blades into his belt.
You remembered the tradition of favours from the fairytales you had read as a child. A lady would give her champion something special, a sign of her support and luck. Back then, you had found the whole idea ridiculous. But now? The idea that you could publicly claim Feyd as yours, in some way, was enticing.
Soon, you left Feyd to finish his preparations, feeling his eyes on you as you walked back towards the guest chambers. It was only then that you noticed the black smudges of paint on your dress. Your feet moved faster, not wanting anyone to see you in such a state.
You arrived quickly, opening your wardrobe to find an appropriate dress to wear. Your typical choices were far more feminine in fabric than Irulan. Where she chose metallics, more structured pieces for public outings, you preferred softer looks. Flowing gowns that accentuated your figure. Pearls and silks in a myriad of light tones. Always with a hood or veil to match.
Several options were spread out on your bed when you heard a gentle knock on your door. With curiosity, and wrapping your robe tighter around your body, you opened it.
A Harkonnen servant stood waiting, the girl barely looking you in the eye as she handed you a note.
“It is from Feyd-Rautha, princess,” she said so softly you barely heard it, but you took the note and thanked her.
As she left, you pushed the door closed and quickly read.
My princess, not that I wish to command you, but I have one request. Please, for me, would you wear something white. Something to make you stand out on this dark planet. You look so very beautiful in white. Like a goddess sent to tempt me. That is my request. F.
You read the note twice more. He wanted you in white? There was something more to the request and you knew it. But you could not quite figure it out. You had a few options. White was a colour quite synonymous with you, pearls being your favourite jewel as a result.
You looked at the note again. ‘Stand out’ he had said. Asking you to make yourself known. It was something you were quite unfamiliar with, in truth. Having always lived in the shadow of Irulan, you were well versed in fading into the background.
But this was your chance.
You made your choice, picking a gown you had only worn once before. A more fitted design, strewn with layers of pearls that accentuated every dip and curve of your body. As was usual for you, and your sister, you chose an accessory to cover part of your face. But instead of a veil, you opted for a lower face cover, made of silver chains and jewels to match your dress. Feyd wanted you to stand out for him, and there was every chance of that in this.
Something about the choice made you feel powerful. Like you were finally taking a stand. Even if it was a small step.
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Feyd stood stock still at the doors to the arena. The first round was being announced and he could hear the murmurings of other warriors in the surrounding chambers. Melee style fighting was first. Each champion would fight, to the death, until the fight was called to an end. The round that followed would consist of any of those champions that remained.
He twirled the blades between his palms, anticipation making his whole body feel like it was on fire. Combat was what he lived for, and these opponents would be a welcome challenge. What excited him more, was knowing you were watching.
Soon, his name was called, and he strode out to the chants of his name, raising his two blades in the air in response.
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All eyes fell to you as you entered the room. Everyone from your sister and father to the Baron and his attendants stared. You knew why, and you could not stop the small smile the pulled at your lips.
You sat beside Irulan, who was quick to whisper in your ear.
“You picked Feyd-Rautha? Sister, he is a psychopath…” Irulan whispered harshly, low enough for only you to hear and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.
“Psychotic or not, he is an excellent fighter. Is that not the point of this, to choose the best?”
Irulan scoffed and you ignored her. Feyd had been nothing but kind to you since you had arrived. More than kind in fact. And you were buzzing with excitement at the idea of seeing him fight. There was a feeling, deep within you. Like you needed to be near him.
The announcer called Feyd’s name, and you nearly flew from your seat to lean over the balcony to watch his entrance.
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Feyd strode around the arena with confidence. But his eyes searched only for you and soon he found you. The pearls on your dress shimmering under the black sun of Giedi Prime. You looked perfect. Just the push he needed to truly show off, your words from earlier ringing in his ears.
“Win for me, and you can have any part of me you wish.”
He no longer just wanted to win, he needed to. Purely for that promise. He knew he was capable, but he was more determined now than ever.
The announcer began to introduce the fight and Feyd waited for you to look at him. Neither of you hearing the announcer’s words as you looked at each other. But all eyes fell to Feyd when he dropped to a bow for you, making a show of offering himself and his blades to your name.
You leaned over the balcony wall, despite Irulan’s protests and made sure everyone and Feyd could see you. There was no hiding whose champion he was now.
The fight began with a loud bang of a drum, and you watched intently, eyes following Feyd’s every movement. It became clear quickly that there were few others in the arena that could match him for skill. His first two opponents were dispatched quickly, staining the ground below with streaks of blood.
And the rest of the fight continued much the same, Feyd cutting through enemy after enemy with what seemed like pure joy on his face. Blood staining his forearms and face and you found yourself enjoying the sight more than you expected.
You watched as most of the ladies, Irulan included, turned away from most of the gore and violence. You, however, watched every second. Something about it all fascinated you. Especially Feyd. The way he moved, like a predator stalking prey. Cutting down each one with precision and skill.
It was not long before the fight was time out. Leaving only five champions of ten remaining. Feyd included, of course. He wiped his blades on the fabric of his trousers as he was ushered back to the holding room.
You sat back in your chair, letting out a breath you had not realised you were holding.
“Do you really not find this exciting?” you asked, turning to Irulan and the other ladies.
“Watching men fight for our favour and affection?”
Every single one of them looked at you like you were insane. How could you possibly enjoy something like this? It was not that you enjoyed the death per se, but the skill and precision of it all. Watching people who had trained for years show off their skills was exhilarating.
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The second round was much the same as the first, though less contenders. And it was clear that some had advantage over the others. It lasted far less time than the first, with Feyd soon coming out as the blood-stained winner.
You stood at the balcony as he was named the winner, the ultimate champion and he repeated his bow from before. But this time you returned it, dipping your head in thanks to your champion.
Feyd was lead from the arena and you did not hesitate to demand to know where he was to be taken.
“You are not going to him.” Your father turned to you, speaking to you for the first time since you arrived.
“And why not, I have every right to congratulate my champion. Would you deny Irulan if her man had won?”
Your father huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. You knew he would not argue, because there was little point. You were stubborn, much like him.
His silence was taken as permission, and you quickly hurried after the guard. You were led down a series of steps before arriving at a room similar to where you had painted Feyd earlier. Except this time, there was a square bath and a bed in the corner. You assumed, then, this was where warriors were allowed to relax after the arena.
“My lord Feyd, the princess is here for you,” the guard called out before leaving you alone to wait.
But you did not have to wait long.
“Princess, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Feyd asked, smirking as he made his way over.
He had yet to remove his armour or clean the blood from his skin and it was a sight that sent a jolt of desire down your spine.
“I believe I owe you a reward, you did win after all.”
Feyd’s smirk widened, forgoing cleaning the blood from his hands and tossing the towel to the side. In a few steps, he closed the distance between you, stopping short just a hair’s breadth from your lips.
“You wore white.”
It was not a question, but it did not feel like a simple statement either. It was like he was thinking aloud.
“You asked me to,” you replied simply, and Feyd raised a brow at you in curiosity.
His hands trailed softly over the layers of pearl, fascinated by each string as it draped over you. You ignored the small red streaks he left behind, it was worth it to have him touch you.
“And I believe your reward is your choice?”
Feyd stopped his exploration at your waist, instead wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tight to him. The tension was back, lingering just below the surface. You had felt it when you first met him. The way he stared, the lingering kiss to your hand. Something had simmered even then and it was almost back at boiling point.
He considered his options for a moment, wondering just what you were willing to let him do.
“A princess deserves a throne, yes?”
You barely stifled the surprise giggle that left you, watching him as he walked over to the bed. Your head tilted as he laid down, stroking a thumb over his lips as he spoke.
“Claim your throne, my princess.”
You hesitated for just a moment and Feyd sat up with a smile. You wondered if he could possibly mean what you thought he meant.
“Don’t overthink it. I have chosen my reward. Sit on my face and let me taste that royal cunt.”
You felt desire fill you at just those words. Something about the directness of it had your skin flushing and heat pooling between your thighs.
“Well, I can’t deny my champion his prize.”
You moved to the bed, watching as Feyd laid back down and waited for you. Your dress wasn’t exactly designed for movement like this, so you made quick work of removing it. Feyd on the other hand, was still clad in his armour. Deep red blood remained on his hands and face. Yet you did not mind.
Now fully bare, you crawled up the bed, not missing the hungry stare Feyd gave you. His hands were quick to tug you to where he wanted you. Large hands found your waist and helped you hover yourself inches above his face. You could feel the heat of his breath on your skin and the anticipation was eating away at you as you waited.
Feyd took his time, holding your waist tight as he inhaled the scent of you. He could feel the heat of your core already and he had not even begun. With slow licks of his tongue, Feyd took his first taste. But just that feeling had your eyes rolling back. It was not the first time you had taken a lover, but it was the first time you had been in this position.
“Feyd..” you breathed out as he took another long swipe between your slick folds, teasing you.
You could feel him smirk against you, and you wordlessly willed him to keep going with your soft, breathy moans.
Feyd was in heaven, if he believed in it. The taste, the heat, everything about you was divine and he was slowly losing what little restraint he had left. With a sharp tug, he brought you flush to his face, burying himself deep within you with a growl. His tongue was relentless now, soon finding a rhythm that had you moaning his name over and over.
“You taste divine, princess, I would fight a hundred men if this was my reward…” he muttered against your skin, switching from long licks to wrapping his lips around your bud.
Your hands quickly found purchase on the bedframe while his wrapped around your thighs, spreading the wider as he began to alternate between lapping at you and suckling hard on your bundle of nerves. Every sensation was overwhelming, and you could do nothing more than moan and pant his name.
Feyd could not get enough. His own arousal strained against his trousers, but he did not care. His sole focus was you. Desperately working to have you come apart for him, to drench his face as you peaked.
Your nails scratched across his scalp as he growled deep into you, feeling the first pulses of your impending orgasm. And it only spurred him on. The wet sound of his tongue  against your folds and the sounds of your moans filled the room as he pulled you down closer. As close as he could get you and it still did not feel like enough.
Feyd was quick to add his thumb to your pearl as he felt your thighs twitch either side of his head, telling him you were close.
“Feyd..oh..yes…keep going please…” you were near incoherent as he sped up, the bridge of his nose now pushing so deliciously against your bud that you near screamed as you came.
“That’s it, princess…” he cooed, slowing his motions but not removing his tongue from your depths.
He wanted to drink down every drop, commit your taste to memory. With a grunt, he pulled away, smirking at the mix of dried blood from battle and your slick as it stained your inner thighs.
He helped you roll to the side, wiping his face on the back of his hand before kissing you gently. You looked so beautiful, a look of blissful satisfaction on your face. The look in his own eyes was intense.
He knew he could not keep you at his side, but he had never quite felt like this about anyone else. Like he needed you near him. Like he would not be able to stay far from you.
What he did not know, was that you felt the same. It felt strange, being so desperate for someone you barely knew. But it was you who voiced what you both felt. Though no words could truly describe it.
“I fear I can’t stay away from you…”
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@blissfulphilospher @tumblin-theworldaway @lady-phasma @anjelicawrites @aemondsbabe
@alexagirlie @avidreader @connorsui @kaelatargaryen @reemoony
@wo-ming-bai @mamawiggers1980
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stevieschrodinger · 2 months
Text
I do not have time to write this, but I really need to write it down.
All the events of Stranger things happen as normal - one crucial difference, Eddie gets involved, but not in the same way. He's an innocent by stander who never made friends with the kids. He's a vague background character to the action. He's an extra on set, effectively, and when he drops out of school and leaves town abruptly, someone might notice, but no one really questions it.
Years later, the only thing that feels real about the whole thing are the scars Steve still carries on his body. Sometimes, sometimes, he has to call Robin, just to check it was all real. That he hasn't lost his mind. He still flinches when a light flickers, to this day his ears ring for hours after a loud noise. He has headaches.
The only people he can talk to about it are Robin and the kids; but he feels bad. The kids aren't kids anymore, and they all seem to have just...gotten on with their lives. Seemed to have grown and evolved past it all, even though Steve regularly still wakes in the night, sweating and fighting with his bed covers. He doesn't put that on them, he sounds happy on the phone, and he is, loves hearing about their lives, their relationships, their plans and their own kids.
Robin has a girlfriend, she's happy and settled. Steve's the only one who seems...stuck. Like he cant move past it. He bums around. Stays with Nancy for a while, then Robin. Visits Argyle, makes loose acquaintances and sofa surfs. Drifts, aimlessly, through life.
It's about time in his cycle to visit Robin, but the relationship is serious this time and she nags him to find his own place to stay near by - loosing patience with him when he fails to be motivated and finding it for him herself. It's tiny, the kind of place where the bed is also the couch and the TV rests on a short run of kitchen counter because there's no where else. Feels okay though.
Steve gets a job. Spends a day on foot, door to door, walking through town; lands in a record shop of all places, even though CD's have now well and truly taken hold and vinyl isn't much of a thing. It's dark inside, the walls painted black, the bare brick red. A couple of people browse through, but Steve heads right for the counter.
There's some screamo rock stuff playing that Steve doesn't recognize, but it's quiet, so it's okay.
Behind the counter, someone Steve half recognizes from another life. Eddie Munson, Freak of Hawkins High. What are the odds.
Eddie isn't who Steve remembers. He's angry now. Bitter. Has a horrible scar that creeps up his neck and onto his face, pulling the corner of his lip down. Steve does his best to ignore it. Begs for work.
Eddie employs him, but only because he thinks it's fucking funny how far the king has fallen. Now the king works for the jester.
Steve does his best at the shop. Cleans a lot. Gets on well with the customers, charms plenty of sales.
Eddie walks with a cane and seems to hate everyone and everything; but nothing so much as a cold morning. Seems to be in more pain than usual.
Steve wants to ask, Eddie tells him it was an animal attack. In 86.
Steve's seen some of the scars by now, caught glimpses of how bad Eddie was hurt; helped Eddie even when Eddie was spitting angry about accepting any help.
What the fuck kind of animal could do that much damage in Hawkins?
You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
And Steve puts it together then, instantly and viscerally realizes in his bones what must have happened. No one ever believed Eddie. Why would they? How could anyone think that monsters coming out of the walls, out of the floors, out of glowing red portals could be the truth?
And Steve says, did it's face peel apart like a flower?
And then he tells Eddie. He tells Eddie everything. He shows Eddie his own scars. Tells him about every monster they ever come across. It was one of the demo dogs. Like Dart. Steve knew it must have been, but Eddie confirms with a description.
And then Eddie cries, because he finally has a explanation. He's not crazy. For the first time in his life, someone believes him.
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natsaffection · 6 months
Text
Mafia's Mistress pt. 1 | N.R
MafiaBoss!Natasha x Civilian!YoungerReader
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Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Age gap (Natasha is 32 = reader ist 22), kinda manipulative Nat, Oral and fingering (r receiving), restraints, begging, edging and normal stuff :v
Word Count: 4,8 K
A/N: First of many parts is here! I want to post about it every Sunday, so if you want to be tagged, let me know and have fun! 🫱🏼‍🫲🏻
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined that you would be sitting in such a large penthouse, with hundreds of security guards around you who only have one order: to keep you safe.
Never would you have thought that you would no longer have to worry about money, or what you would do if you were running low at the end of the month. Never would you have thought that this one person would turn out to be the strongest and most feared woman in the world.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Six Month ago ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
In the heart of the bustling city, where neon lights painted the streets pink and blue, you hurriedly made your way through the crowded sidewalks, your heart pounding with excitement and fear as you clutched your books tightly to your chest.
The rhythmic hum of the city enveloped you, a symphony of car horns, distant chatter, and the occasional street performer's tune. As you rounded a corner, your hasty steps faltered, causing you to collide with a figure cloaked in shadow. A gasp escaped your lips as you stumbled back, your books slipping from your grasp and scattering across the sidewalk like fallen leaves.
Your heart was racing in your chest as you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise as you met the piercing gaze of a woman in front of you. She stand tall and imposing, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders like a waterfall, framing a face that exuded an aura of mystery and danger. Your breath caught, a mixture of fear and curiosity swirling inside you like a tempestuous storm.
The woman bore into you with a piercing gaze, studying you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, the tension thickening like syrup as the world around you seemed to fade into the background.
"I-I'm so sorry," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
The woman's expression remained invisible as she raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, her gaze still on you. The silence between you stretched, full of unspoken questions and unspoken emotions. “You don’t need to apologize,” her voice was a melodic blend of honey and ice, each word carefully weighed and imbued with a hidden depth that sent a chill down your spine once again. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of emerald green, had an enigmatic glow, as if they could see through your innermost being and unravel the layers of your soul with a single glance.
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As you and the woman settled into a cozy corner of the bustling cafe, the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you in a warm embrace. You couldn’t help but cast coy glances at the woman in front of you.
“So,” Natasha, how she introduced herself began with silky elegance as she took a sip of her coffee, “What made you offer me a coffee as an apology?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the weight of guilt once again weighing on your heart. "I just felt really bad about bumping into you," you admit, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "And I wanted to make it up to you somehow."
Natasha looked at you with a knowing look, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, you certainly know how to make a first impression," she said, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I have to admit, I was a little surprised by your offer." You couldn't help but feel a wave of relief at Natasha's words, your fear melting away like snow under the warm spring sun.
"I'm glad you accepted," you say, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I was worried you'd find it weird." Natasha giggled softly, which was music to your ears. "Believe me, I've encountered far stranger things in my line of work," she said cryptically, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "But I have to admit, this is a first for me." As you both talked, Natasha's phone buzzed incessantly in her pocket, a constant reminder of the world outside her little bubble.
With practiced ease, she discreetly checked her messages, her expression unreadable as she absorbed the information being relayed to her. You can't help but notice the subtle change in Natasha's demeanor, the way her expression softened ever so slightly as she glanced at her phone.
Before you could think about it any further, Natasha pocketed her phone and turned her attention back to you, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, tell me more about yourself. What do you do when you're not bumping into mysterious strangers on the street?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the question, your fingers tightening around your coffee cup.
"Um, my name is Y/n, I'm a journalist.." When you told her, Natasha's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, her eyes widening with interest. "Journalist?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with curiosity. "That's.. fascinating. Why did you choose this profession?" Your heart skipped a beat at Natasha's genuine interest, a warmth spreading through you as she realized Natasha was genuinely interested in you. "I've always loved telling stories," you explain, your voice growing more confident with each word. "As a journalist, I can shed light on important issues and give a voice to those who need it most."
Natasha leaned closer to you, her eyes shining with admiration. "That's incredibly noble," she said seriously, her words making you tremble with excitement. "I have to admit, I've never met a journalist before. This must be quite an adventure." As they continued to chat, you felt her opening up to Natasha in a way she hadn't with anyone else. Natasha's genuine interest calmed you down and made you feel valued and appreciated.
You gathered up all your courage and decided to ask Natasha's question herself, "What do you do for a living?" Natasha's smile disappeared for a split second, a barely perceptible hint of hesitation crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Oh, I work in marketing," she answered smoothly, her voice betraying none of the uncertainty that lingered in her head.
"That sounds interesting too," you say in a polite tone, trying to hide your lingering curiosity. “What do you like most about it?” Natasha’s smile widened, relief flooding through her as you accepted her answer without further questioning, “I love the creative aspect of it,” Natasha replied, her words flowing effortlessly as she slipped into the role of the confident professional. “Coming up with new ideas and strategies to promote products and services is a challenge, but a rewarding one.”
As the two of you continued your conversation in the cozy corner of the busy cafe, Natasha couldn’t help but notice the genuine warmth and innocence you exuded. Despite the complexity of her own life and the secrets she kept, Natasha found herself drawn to the simplicity and sincerity of your interaction.
It was rare that she let her guard down and had a conversation without the weight of her past weighing on her, but with you, it felt effortless.
As your conversation reached its peak, however, Natasha’s phone buzzed with an urgent message. Her expression remained stoic as she looked at the screen, "Y/n, I'm sorry, but I have to go," Natasha said in an apologetic tone as she quickly packed up her things. "Something came up at work."
Your heart sank at the abrupt change of plans, but you nodded in understanding, hiding your disappointment behind a polite smile. "Of course, I hope everything is okay?"
Natasha smiled reassuringly at you, although there was something unreadable in her eyes. "Everything will be fine," she said with more conviction than you expected.
Before you could even offer to pay for her coffee, Natasha quickly reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet.
"Let me take care of this, as a thank you for the time," Natasha insisted, her voice firm but gentle as she approached the counter to settle the bill. Despite the haste in her movements, Natasha's demeanor remained calm, her actions swift and purposeful.
You watched in surprise as Natasha paid for both coffees, a small gesture that spoke volumes amidst the chaos of her abrupt departure.
"Thank you," you say quietly as you walk towards the door. Natasha smiled warmly at you, her eyes softening with genuine affection. "It was a pleasure, Y/n," she replied in a soft voice, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
And with that, Natasha disappeared into the busy streets of the city, leaving you standing alone in the entrance of the cafe.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Later this Day ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Dark clouds loomed over you as you moved stealthily through the deserted alleys of the city, your camera at the ready and your senses on high alert. You had received an anonymous tip about illegal dealings taking place in secret, and you were determined to gather evidence for your next story.
As you carefully snapped photos of the desolate surroundings, you didn't notice the figure lurking behind it until it was almost too late. With a startled gasp, you stumbled backwards, your heart racing as you turned to face the unexpected intruder.
To your surprise, Natasha stood before you, a shadowy figure in the dimly lit alley. Your breath caught as you met Natasha's piercing gaze, a feeling of unease settling over you like a thick fog.
"N-Natasha?" you greet carefully, your voice tinged with suspicion as you eye the woman in front of you.
Natasha's expression softened as she looked at you with amusement, a playful glint appearing in her eyes. "Well, what a surprise to see you again," Natasha remarked with a wry smile. "Are you following me by any chance?"
Your suspicion grew at Natasha's light-hearted remark, your head racing with questions about the woman's true intentions. "I could ask you the same," you reply, your tone tinged with skepticism as you watch Natasha's every move.
Natasha's smile vanished for a moment, a hint of uncertainty crossing her face before she regained her composure. "Touché," she replied with a giggle, although there was a hint of tension in her voice. "Maybe we're just two ships passing each other in the night."
As raindrops began to fall from the darkening sky, Natasha's demeanor changed and a mischievous glint came into her eyes. "Looks like it's about to pour," she remarked with a mischievous grin. "Why don't we leave this desolate alley and find somewhere more.. inviting?"
You nod, still stunned that you've met again. As you make your way to a slightly brighter area, you can't shake the feeling that Natasha is looking you up and down and you speak up again,
"So..." you begin, your voice laced with suspicion as you glance sideways at the enigmatic woman next to you. "What were you really doing back there? Looking for your next victim?"
You try to lighten the mood with a mischievous joke, although the tension between you was somehow palpable. Natasha chuckled softly, her eyes flickering with amusement as she considered your joke. "See through it..." she replied ironically, her voice laced with a hint of desire. "But I'm afraid the truth is far less exciting than you might think."
Your brow furrowed in confusion, your mind racing to decipher Natasha's cryptic words. "Less exciting?" you repeat, your voice laced with uncertainty. Natasha nodded, her expression carefully neutral as she met your gaze. "Yes," she replied quietly, her mind preoccupied with the image of you in her bed. What?
"You know, I was... hoping to find someone and I seem to have gotten a little carried away and ended up in the right place at the right time." Natasha's excuse and lie took a completely different turn than she had originally intended. But better this way than that.
Your eyes widened as you realized what Natasha had said and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "Oh," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I understand." Natasha's desire burned even hotter at your reaction, her head racing at the thought of having you all to herself. What is wrong with her?
"How about it?" Your breath caught in your throat as you fought to keep your composure. Your mind was clouded by Natasha's proximity. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I shouldn't have... um, whatever." But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be ignored, and she couldn't resist the temptation to take what she wanted. "You know what?" she said suddenly, her tone dripping with seduction. "Since you're already here, why don't you come to my place? I could make us something to eat and then we'll see where it takes us, what do you think?" Your eyes widened in surprise at Natasha's unexpected invitation, your heart racing with excitement and concern.
"Oh, I don't know..." you begin, your voice full of uncertainty. But Natasha's desire burned too fiercely to be suppressed, and she couldn't resist the urge to push you further. "We can just eat. Continue our conversation from the coffee shop.” she said now in a gentle tone so as not to push her away
And when you hesitated for a moment and uncertainty flickered in your eyes, Natasha's unwavering gaze and her energetic tone convinced you to take the leap into the unknown. “But you promise me not to kill me in secret, okay?” Natasha rolled her eyes inwardly, your sweet little manner does something to her. “Promise.”
You had imagined her area exactly like that. Natasha seems classy, ​​elegant to you and so does her apartment. Small, simple, modern. Her interior looks exactly like that. She goes into the kitchen, “Are you of legal age yet?” The question threw you off track a little, was that ironic? Did she mean it - “That was a joke... loosening up, you're stiff.” You smile nervously. Maybe it all happened too quickly for you. Natasha puts two wine glasses on the table and brings a bottle of water, "Take what you want," she leans across from you. You sit on the plush sofa and wait for something. Anything.
"You know, I'm not used to getting to know people." You were glad that she finally said something, so you could at least carry on a conversation now, "That's it. You're going to kill me." You answer sarcasm-wise. Natasha grinned again, "What makes you always think that?" You unconsciously bite your lip and scratch the rim of the glass in your hand with your nails. "I don't know...You...Please don't take this negatively, but you look like that sometimes.." As you continue to babble about your own words, Natasha only thinks one thing. That's how it should be.
Natasha laughed softly and put her glass on the table. "Well, maybe I just like to keep the people around me guessing. Am I a killer? Am I just a poor, lonely woman looking for her pleasure in the night? Or something else entirely? It's exciting to reveal who you really are, bit by bit. It's a dance of seduction...and I like to think I'm an artist in that regard."
You felt your pulse quicken and your gaze fell to Natasha's lips. "I wouldn't mind seeing you like this..." You put everything on the line. You want her.
Natasha shifted in her seat, a devilish glint in her eyes. "You say that like you're ready for a private performance," she teased. You met her gaze, the tension in the room running like a wire. "Maybe I am..." you admitted. Natasha's mouth twisted into a slow, knowing smile. With a quick movement, she drank the rest of her wine and raised her eyebrow. "Well, since this seems to be the premiere of a solo exhibition, maybe I should leave the stage and take a bow."
You felt your face turn red. "I-I'd love to," you said, your breath catching. Natasha rose, an aura of seductive confidence surrounding her like a second skin as she walked around the coffee table. You watched, heart pounding, as Natasha stood between your outstretched legs. Slowly, she reached for your water glass and placed it next to her own, her movements deliberate and graceful. "I want your full attention," she murmured, her minty breath blowing against your face.
You nodded, your voice catching in your throat as Natasha lowered herself and your lips met in a feverish kiss. You felt Natasha's hands brush against your sides. Natasha chucked, her voice glowing with desire. "You're so nervous." She pulled back, her piercing green eyes meeting yours.
"Let me help you." Natasha's hands began to explore your body, her touch like fire on your skin. Slowly, she unbuttoned your blouse, her lips brushing against your neck with each button she unbuttoned. You arched your back and moaned softly as Natasha's lips touched your bare skin and her tongue found its way to the curve of your breast.
Natasha teased your nipples with her teeth, pulling and sucking until you were squirming in her lap and your fingers were clutching Natasha's red locks. Natasha's hands moved further down and reached for the zipper of your jeans. She pulled it down slowly, her fingers brushing against your inner thigh. You bit your lip and your hips jerked as Natasha's hand entered your panties and found them soaking wet and ready for her touch.
Natasha teased your opening, her fingers circling your clit in slow, deliberate movements that made you squirm with desire. "N-Natasha.." you gasped, your fingers clinging tighter to Natasha's hair. "Don't tease m-me.." Natasha groaned and her fingers continued to dance over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "You wanted a private showing. I'll give it to you," Natasha purred, her fingers dipping into your wetness. She stroked you slowly and teasingly before sliding two fingers inside you.
You moaned and your head fell back as Natasha's fingers began to move in a steady rhythm. Natasha's thumb circled your clit, increasing the pressure inside you. "O-Oh.." you gasped, your hands grabbing Natasha's shoulders. Natasha grinned as she felt the walls of your pussy clench around her fingers. "You like that?" she taunted in a deep, sensual voice. "You like how I fuck you with my fingers and make you wetter than ever?"
You could only nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Natasha continued to stroke you. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body shaking with pleasure. Natasha's fingers were relentless, driving you higher and higher until you were a writhing mess on her lap. Suddenly Natasha pulled her fingers out, making you gasp in need.
"No, no, no," you whimper, your body begging for more. Natasha giggled, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Patience, I'm not done with you yet." She stood up, took your hands and pulled you up with her. Natasha led you to the nearby wall, pressing your back against it as you lowered your head to hide your noises from her. She could feel your hands wandering over her body, Natasha's hips grinding against you, searching for friction.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Y/n?" You nodded, your breath catching as Natasha's teeth grazed your neck. "Yes, please..” you pleaded, your voice hoarse with desire. Natasha's lips curved into a smile against your skin and she reached for the button of her own jeans. With a wave of her hand, they opened, revealing matching lacy underwear that left little to the imagination. You couldn't help but stare, your mouth going dry as Natasha stepped closer, your bodies snuggled close together. "Do you like what you see?" Natasha purred, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Then let me show you more."
Natasha reached out a hand to you, "Excited?" Skeptically, you followed Natasha close on her heels as the red-haired woman led you through her sprawling home. You meandered through the luxurious interior, which was decorated with sleek, modern furniture. Some rooms were light and airy, while others were softly lit with lamps and strategically placed candles.
You reached a room door hidden in a dark, secluded hallway, different from the rest of the house. Your heart raced, and your anticipation grew. This had to be her bedroom.
Natasha turned, looked over her shoulder, and caught your eye. "One thing I want to make sure of. If you feel uncomfortable, we can always go back to the living room, okay?"
Her green eyes shone with dark passion. You swallowed hard and nodded. You were nervous and excited at the same time with the anticipation of what was to come. Natasha smiled, her mouth twisting into a mischievous grin as she opened the door. "Welcome to my playroom," Natasha purred, reaching for a dimmer switch that gently bathed the room in a soft, seductive light.
Your eyes widened at the sight before you. Leather-clad walls were adorned with provocative artwork depicting scenes of bondage and domination. A steel frame loomed menacingly in one corner, and the air was filled with an indefinable, dark eroticism. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. Your breath caught as you took in the room, your body tingling with excitement and your stomach fluttering. Natasha stepped forward, her heels clicking imperiously on the stone floor. "What do you think?" You look at everything, let a few things slide through your hands and turn back to her, "I've always read about it...but never thought I'd...you know." Natasha smiled gently, "You don't have to be afraid. I promise you'd enjoy it." The voice was hypnotic, her words weaving a sensual spell. You nod, unable to find your voice as you surrendered to the moment.
Natasha moved closer to you, your bodies touching. Her hand reached out, gently caressing your cheek before moving down to her neck and resting gently on her pulse. "There's something about you. You're curious, exciting and open-minded. I want to show you what I like, what I love and what I desire. I want you to trust me and enjoy every moment. Surrender and I will guide you through an unforgettable experience."
Natasha's voice echoed through the room and you felt a surge of lust and adrenaline building in yours. You nodded again and whispered, "I trust you." With a mischievous grin, Natasha led you to the imposing steel bondage frame. She began to remove your clothing layer by layer, revealing your pale skin and the goosebumps that covered your body. Her fingers gently stroked your trembling body, increasing your anticipation.
You stood there, trembling with desire, as Natasha secured your wrists and ankles to a frame with soft, velvety shackles. Unyielding metal surrounded you, holding you captive, but instead of being afraid, you felt an incredible sense of freedom. Your body was at the mercy of this woman, this mysterious and sensual creature in front of you. Natasha moved around you, admiring you from every angle. "You're breathtaking," she murmured, running her fingertips over your torso.
You gasped at the touch, the warmth of Natasha's hand sending shivers down your spine. Your chest heaved, your heart pounding in your ears. Natasha's eyes locked on yours, and you knew that this woman had completely captivated you. "Do you trust me, Y/n?" Natasha asked in a deep and sensual voice.
"Yes," you whisper, unable to hide the desire etched on your face. Natasha's grin widened. "Good." And with that, she leaned forward, her lips pressed against yours with insatiable hunger. Their mouths moved in sync, exploring each other, their tongues dancing with each other like old lovers reuniting after a long separation. You moaned as Natasha's hand moved between your legs, parting your labia and finding your clit. She stroked it gently, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body.
You whimpered, your eyes fluttering shut. Natasha continued to caress and tease you, moving her hand to gently thrust two fingers into your wet heat. Your hips bucked wildly, your body begging for more. Natasha grinned against your lips and thrust harder and faster, her fingertips grazing your G-spot.
You gasped, your whole body shaking as the familiar pressure of an orgasm built inside you. Natasha's lips found your ear, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't come yet. Not until I give you permission."
You continued to whimper and your eyes fluttered shut. "Please, Natasha," you begged, your voice hoarse and desperate, getting closer and closer to the edge of your climax. "No, not yet..." Natasha growled. "If you can't follow simple instructions, I'll have to punish you. And believe me, you don't want that." Natasha's voice was heavy with desire, her words silky and coated with promises.
Your body trembled, your breath caught as you shook your head. Natasha's hand moved away from your sex, making you tremble with anticipation. She stood behind you, her body pressed against yours from behind, her hands gripping your hips.
"Good girl," Natasha whispered in your ear, her lips brushing your earlobes. She trailed her lips down your neck, biting and sucking gently. "Please…" you begged, not even sure what you were begging for anymore. Natasha's hands moved from your hips, up your torso, tracing the curve of your breast before reaching up to gently grip your neck.
"Not yet," she said again, her voice a low rumble in your ear. Despite the pain between her legs, you breathed deeply and evenly, concentrating on the heady mix of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. Natasha's fingers on your neck sent shivers down your spine, the metal frame in your back a constant, comforting reminder of your vulnerability.
You were hoarse, desperate and full of longing. Natasha's lips curled into a wicked smile, her eyes shining with desire as she slowly sank to her knees. Her hands slid over your trembling thighs, gently pushing them apart and giving her unhindered access.
Your breath caught as Natasha's tongue darted out and circled your aching clitoris in slow, deliberate circles. You shuddered, the mixture of lust and anticipation driving you wild. With each stroke of Natasha's tongue, your hips bucked, a soft moan escaping your lips. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, the buildup of your orgasm threatening to overwhelm you. But Natasha didn't let you come yet.
"Beg for it," she commanded in a firm but hoarse voice. The command made you shudder. You were soaking wet and aching for release, but you held back, enjoying the delicious agony. "Please, Natasha, make me come. I'm begging you!!”
But Natasha was relentless, refusing to let you find your release. Instead, she teased you with slow, gentle flicks of her tongue, occasionally sucking your swollen clit into her mouth. Your toes curled, your fingers clenched into fists as Natasha continued her torture. "F-Fuck, Natasha, I'm so c-close.." you whimper, trying to push your hips against Natasha's mouth.
But Natasha's grip on your thighs tightened, holding you still and prolonging her torment. "Do you deserve to come?" Natasha asked, her voice muffled against your smooth skin. She felt like an agonizing tease on your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. "Yes, yes I do.." you gasped, your head spinning with lust and desperation.
Natasha's giggle sent shivers down your spine. With one final agonizing flick of her tongue, she granted you a reprieve, sending you spinning over the edge with devastating precision. “You can let go, Malysh.”
"Yes, fuck YES!" you screamed, arching your back as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over your body. Natasha continued to tease and probe, prolonging every last tremor until you were left breathless and limp in your bonds. You stand there, panting and shaking, enjoying the euphoria coursing through your veins.
Natasha stands up, her eyes dark with desire, and leans in to whisper in your ear. "You know what I mean, Detka? That was just a taste," Natasha murmurs, her lips brushing your earlobes. "I want to give you more, so much more. Will you let me?" You nod exhaustedly, your breath catching with every word Natasha speaks in your ear. You were helpless, tied up and at the mercy of this woman. You couldn't resist the lure of what Natasha was offering you. "Good girl," Natasha praised, her voice heavy with desire.
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978 notes · View notes
risuola · 5 months
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▶ COCOONED — one of those lazy mornings when you wake up trapped in a tangle of hands and legs.
contents: college+roommates!au, fluff — wc. 655
a/n: very short one, i'm still painting a little background to the friendship dynamics of our trio, but I wanna take this opportunity to thank you guys for supporting this little story I'm building here and also I wanna encourage you to help me out with it! if you have any ideas for entries, please let me know through ask box!
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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Taking care of your friends came easy for you. You were always like this, affectionate and protective. It was a way of showing love, through those subtle acts of tenderness and both Satoru and Suguru always thanked you for it, despite occasional teasing from their side. They were grateful for your selfless and kindhearted nature, just as you were grateful for the boundless protection you were granted ever since you got to know them. Any bully you ever stumbled upon quickly turned tail when met with the sight of your two guardians – always taller than others, always stronger and very ready to resolve issues (in more or less civilized ways).
It wasn’t a surprise that living together brought you even closer than before. It became a routine for you to help Satoru with his eyedrops first thing in the morning – because the boy has eyes of an angel but needs to protect them from harsh sunlight and environment. Then, you always make sure that a jar of Suguru’s favorite candy is full for him, so that he can pop one right after he takes his daily medicine – the one that he swears tastes like a rug somebody used to wipe up shit and vomit. They, on the other hand, never fail to help you at home or bring you sweets from the store.
One thing you were slightly uncertain about at the beginning of the one-bedroom journey was sleeping with them. You wondered if one day you’ll wake up to a black eye because of some random muscle twitch of either of them or they’ll squish you in the middle of the bed because of course you slept between them, but none of those things happened and it’s been months already. What took place, on the other hand, was evolvement of your friendship to a much more touchy one. It always came natural to you three to cuddle; you never minded their hands on your waist or legs and they never complained about you draping over them, but in one bed, it became much more intense. A progression of friendly intimacy that all three of you grew to love. A comfortable tangle of bodies that became a safe space to you and the boys, something that happened naturally and you wouldn’t have it any other way. And they wouldn’t change it either, but–
“Satoruu–! Suguuu–”
–but there were mornings like this one. You woke up trapped in a death grip of both boys, stuck against Suguru’s muscular chest and with Satoru’s strong arm wrapped around you. The white-haired head was nuzzled against your shoulder blades and as you tried to loosen up the cocoon, you ended up twisting your upper body unnaturally while your legs stayed lodged between four, much larger male ones. Your butt was pressed against Gojo’s stomach and his hand was resting below your ribs, long gone underneath the fabric of your stolen t-shirt. Long, black hair was tickling your face whenever you tried to move away from brunette’s bare pecks. Immobilized and resigned, you let out a deep exhale.
Thanks god it’s Sunday and you have nowhere to be – otherwise you’d be very late, as none of your friends seemed to be bothered by the sound of your voice calling them.
“Get back to sleep,” Toru mumbled sleepily against your back and somehow pulled you even closer to his chest and you could tell that as soon as he finished speaking, he was back in his slumber. His muffled voice did something to Suguru though, because the man hummed lowly, a sound akin to a purr. You felt his lips pressing to the top of your head and he was gone too, with his large hand resting on your hip and his bicep underneath your cheek. Helpless and surrendered, you tweaked your position to get comfortable and allowed your eyelids to drop, slowly succumbing back into the dreamland.
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taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu
765 notes · View notes
pahtoosh · 6 months
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baba face
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[image ID: photos of sebastian stan, chris evans, and various stuffed animals photoshopped onto a yellow background. sebastian stan is holding a round wolf stuffed animal and looking into the distance. chris evans is hiding a smile with a hand over his mouth. the stuffed animals include four frowning stuffed animals and one smiling one. /.end ID]
masterlist
18+
wc: ~2400 words
warnings: reader takes a little tumble
a/n: this was inspired by @angelbaby-fics ! Chloe, thank you for showing me your turtle and inspiring this whole piece! (side note: if anyone would like to talk about their stuffies, I would LOVE to hear about them!!
pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader
summary: sam gets a stuffed animal for reader that frowns like bucky! things get out of hand when the other avengers join in and buy reader way too many grumpy stuffies
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚
It all started when Sam came back from a mission in late June. The Avengers would sometimes bring back presents when they went overseas. They didn’t always have the time to stop by a gift shop but when they did, the gifts were always cherished and held a little closer when the Avenger eventually had to travel again. 
Two weeks before his mission, you had gotten very close with Sam. Your daddies asked him to watch over you one day and he gave you a whole adventure. He took you to a pottery painting studio, then the park, and ended the day with the best ice cream you’ve ever had. From then on, you were inseparable. 
During group meal times, you’d make jokes with him across the table. If you were allowed in the room for a meeting, you’d pass notes back and forth. Sam would also play with you during Tony’s summer parties; he was going to let you fly with redwing before Bucky marched outside and confined you to his hip for the rest of the night. You didn’t mind too much though, the sky probably wasn’t as comfortable as being held by Baba. 
Your attachment to Sam made this mission all the more difficult for everyone involved. You, because you missed your friend. Sam, because he missed your happy giggles and felt bad for leaving you right when he finally gained your trust. And your daddies because they had to witness you get sad every time something reminded you of Sam. 
Fortunately, the mission was going well and he was expected to return right on time. On his last day, Sam was looking both ways to cross the street when a stuffed animal in a display window caught his eye. He looked at his watch to see if he had enough time to make his flight, then quickly entered the store and bought the plushie because he knew you’d love it. 
On the plane, Sam sat with the plushie in his lap to keep it safe. It was still in the bag from the store, looking like an oddly shaped lump in a now wrinkly paper bag. When Sam returned to the tower, Steve was the first to greet him before you nudged your Dada out of the way to give Sam a bone-crushing hug. 
“I missed you, Sammy!”
“I missed you too, peanut.” He kneeled down and handed you the paper bag. “I gotcha something.”
You beamed at him. “Thank you! I love it!”
Sam laughed. “You haven’t even opened it yet!”
“I already know I’m gonna like it because it’s from you,” you said, matter of factly. “But okay.”
You opened the bag and gasped when you saw the plush. 
It was a soft turtle with a slightly slouched posture, but that wasn’t the part you were focused on. Your favorite part was the plushie’s grumpy expression. It looked just like Bucky. 
“HE HAS BABA FACE! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!” You screamed your gratitude while running circles around the trio of Sam and your daddies. Sam and Steve were barely holding in their laughter, meanwhile Bucky stood confused, but happy that you were happy. Despite his super hearing, he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. Did you say baba face? Or maybe you said bubble face?  
Bucky figured that this wasn’t something he needed the answers to immediately, so he didn’t ask any questions and resolved to watching you tire yourself out. 
The grumpy turtle became your new shadow. Everywhere you went, so did the plush. You’d have it tucked under your arm while running through the compound. During mealtimes in your home, the turtle would get his own chair and toy food. Outside, you kept your turtle in a drawstring backpack with the head poking out so he could see the world too. When your daddies carried you around, you’d make a silly game out of making the turtle mess up your Dada’s hair or bite your Baba’s ears. 
Even before giving you the turtle, Sam loved to boast about how he was your favorite Avenger(you didn’t have a favorite, but you didn’t have the heart to correct him on that when he kept giving you all of his attention). When you all played hide and seek, he bragged for three days straight about how you chose him to be your partner. Your attachment to the turtle only heightened his pride. 
He always asked you where the turtle was, knowing it couldn’t be more than three feet away from you. Sam made a big fuss about the turtle having his own seat at the dinner table and fell victim to your strength and contagious giggles when you pushed him out of his seat to make room for your turtle. Sam learned his lesson that day and didn’t fight for the turtle to have his own chair in the debriefing room. However, he did bring in an extra stool for the plush. Sam even bought you the very drawstring backpack that allowed you to take your new friend on your outdoor adventures. In private, he’d ask you about how the turtle was settling into his new home and gave him the gentlest kiss when you said the turtle needed more lovin’. 
The others all thought your friendship with Sam was adorable, but there was one person who saw this as an opportunity for some friendly competition. Natasha knew that there was room in your heart for more than one avenger bestie, so she devised a plan to take her spot. She had two missions in August–the first: survey a crime group that’s suspected to have ties with Zemo. The second: give you a gift worthy of four days of bragging. 
After successful recon, Natasha’s plane landed in the Avenger’s HQ. She turned in her paperwork that she completed on the flight home, then went to freshen up so she could give you your gift. Natasha found you cuddled up with Steve in the movie room watching some old cartoon. She knocked on the door.
“Got any room for a couple more friends on that couch?”
“Natty, you’re back!” You untangled yourself from Steve and ran to give her a hug. You looked behind her expecting to see more of the group. “Where’s the other friends?”
She held up a bag with the arm that wasn’t hugging you. “Your new friend traveled a long way to get here.”
You squealed and hugged Natasha again before accepting the bag from her hand and kneeling on the floor to pull out the tissue paper and free your gift. 
“You guys are spoiling them, you know that?” Steve asked, lightheartedly from the couch.
“Oh hush, how many hours of screen time have you given them today?”
Steve opened and closed his mouth a couple times, not expecting the question.
“Doesn’t count if the movies came from your time, right?” 
Any response from Steve was cut off by your cheering. 
“BABA OCTOPUS!! BABATOPUS!!” you held up the plush proudly like it was Simba. “Dada, look!”
“Oh he’s beautiful, baby.” Steve chuckled at the round, bright red octopus plush with a deep frown on its face. “What do you say to Nat?”
“THANK YOU NAAAT!” you yelled. Excitement flickered across your face once more, then you ran out of the movie room with the octopus securely tucked under your arm.
“Where are you going, baby? And no running indoors!” Steve shouted as he chased after you. 
You slowed for a bit, but kept moving at a swift pace. “I hav’ta show Baba my new friend!”
Natasha watched your little race from the movie room with an amused grin on her face. During dinner that night, she enjoyed the shocked look on Sam’s face when you pulled up with two grumpy plushies and pretended to feed the octopus before the turtle.
Sam turned to Natasha. “You have no idea what you’ve just started.”
She smirked. “And you have no idea what you’re getting into.”
Steve leaned over to whisper to Bucky. “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”
𓏲 ࣪₊♡
The competition expanded beyond Natasha and Sam. All of the Avengers were determined to find the next grumpy plush to win your heart. There was a penguin from Peter, a frog from Thor, a cat from Tony, and a panda from Wanda. Your collection was starting to get out of control. You desperately wanted to carry all of your plushies everywhere with you to keep things fair, but your daddies put an end to that when you tripped on the sidewalk while trying to push a stroller full of scowling stuffed animals. 
Bucky decided to help you create a system so you could fairly pick one plushie from the collection to carry around for the day. He made small slips of paper so you could write down their names and pull one out of a cup each morning. He brought his supplies to you while you were having an afternoon snack at the dining table. His heart broke seeing you with your knees bandaged up and the streaks of dried tears from the fall earlier today still on your face.
“Hi, Baba,” you sniffled.
“Hey, sweetie. What’s going on? You eatin’ your snack?”
“Mhm.”
“Why aren’t you eating at the kitchen island, baby? You always eat your snack there.”
You pouted and gestured to the plushies sitting around you. “I can’t fit all my friends there.”
“Oh I know, bubs. It must be so hard carrying all these guys around, huh?” He mentally scolded himself for leaving you alone during your snack. He should’ve known better than to expect you to stay put when your little friends were trapped inside the stroller. It must’ve taken so long to arrange the plushies around the table with your injury. 
You perked up at his next words. 
“Baba has something for you.” Bucky spread out the slips of paper on the table and placed a cup next to them. “You can write down the names of all your little friends on these papers and pick one name out of the cup to decide which one you’re walking around with for the day. Does that sound fair?”
You shrugged, “I guess I can do that.” You really would’ve liked a solution that allowed you to bring all of the grumpy plushies with you everywhere, but deep down you knew that it just wasn’t practical. You took the pencil that Bucky held out for you and started writing down your plushies’ names.
Your Baba lovingly kissed the top of your head and rubbed your back while you wrote. He loved watching you focus on a task. He almost didn’t notice what you were writing down.
Bucky squinted then blinked a couple of times, not believing what he saw. “Baby, why are you writing ‘Baba’ on everything?”
You paused and tilted your head back to look at him. “That’s their names. Baba Turtle and Baba Cat and Baba Bear and Baba-”
“Why do you call them that?”
“‘Cause look!” You picked up the grumpy frog sitting next to you and held it out for Bucky to see. “They look like Baba!” You hugged the plushie before setting it back down to continue writing. 
Bucky’s heart melted. His sweet, wonderful baby was so attached to these plushies that reminded them of him. His signature scowl that often got him into trouble brought them comfort. His friends even noticed and spoiled his baby rotten with even more of these toys. 
Bucky continued watching you work. He looked at the plushies differently now. 
𓏲 ࣪₊♡
Steve and Bucky were cleaning your playroom. Normally this would be your responsibility, but you had gone to bed a little earlier, and they didn’t want you walking too much with your injury. Steve was putting your plushies into their designated bins. He wasn’t harsh with them, but his efficient method of gathering an armful and plopping them down certainly would have raised an eyebrow from you. 
“Hey, go easy with turtle me,” Bucky teased. 
“Turtle you?” Steve asked. 
Bucky nodded proudly, then held the plush up to his face. “Don’t you see the resemblance?” 
“Whatever, punk. At least my face isn’t the reason we have a 50 gallon bin of stuffed animals.” Steve turned around and kept cleaning, completely missing the look of excitement on Bucky’s face. 
The next day, your Baba volunteered to pick up breakfast while Steve helped you get ready. Bucky stopped by a toy store on his way to the bakery. He’d seen this particular plushie before and knew that this was the perfect moment to get it for you. Not too long later, he was entering your home with bagels in one hand and your new friend in the other. 
Bucky hid the plush behind his back when he heard you and Steve walking towards him. 
“Hi, Baba!”
“Good morning, baby.” Bucky leaned down to kiss your forehead, then kissed Steve’s cheek as a thanks when he handed off the box of bagels. 
You hugged Bucky and couldn’t help but notice that one of his hands wasn’t hugging you back. 
“Baba, hug me better,” you whined. 
Bucky laughed. “Hang on, I’ve got somethin’ for ya.”
You gasped in excitement and took a step back so you could see. Bucky revealed the plush with a dramatic flourish, then somewhat nervously waited for your reaction. The stuffed animal had you in shock. It was a stuffed giraffe that stood with the most perfect posture. It had spiky hair, blue eyes, and a charming smile. You knew exactly who it was supposed to resemble. 
“IT'S DADA!” You squealed and graciously took the plush while running to the kitchen where Steve was. He was already making his way to you when he heard your scream. 
“Dada’s right here, bubba. What’s going on?”
You held up the plush while doing a little dance. “Look! It’s a Dada giraffe!”
Steve laughed then ran a hand over his face when he made the connection. You ran off to your playroom, saying something about “finding a Baba for this Dada” while your daddies shared a look. 
Bucky brought in Steve for a hug, patting his dumbfounded lover on the back. He playfully whispered in his ear, “We’re gonna need more space in the playroom.”
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envy-of-the-apple · 4 months
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the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)
and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)
Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.
Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 
Like that'd happen, but you can dream.
It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.
“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.
Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.
After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.
A muse.
Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.
You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 
The slight bit of quiet, then.
Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.
So you do some searching inward.
And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.
“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.
“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.
“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.
“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.
“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”
“Torch? Hmm… and that?”
It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.
You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 
It's a moment of peace. and warmth.
Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.
“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.
The next early morning, you find your home gone. 
In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.
Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.
“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.
Cold lips brush against your temple. 
“The only home you need is with us.”
The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.
(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)
jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????
I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.
Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.
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mortal-song · 1 month
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the problem with tua's ending is that it was IMPOSSIBLE to do without retconning and defacing the themes and characterizations that have been central to the story since the very first episode. if you had to end it that way, if it really was "the plan all along," then fine. there ARE good ways to do that -- so the execution should have been much different here if that was the case. take a look at "the good place," for example. everyone ceased to exist at the end of that story as well, but it was beautifully done because it ADDED to the show's core themes rather than take away from them. tua's ending was hollow and unavailing. at some point i have to commend the precision with which someone can desecrate an entire series and certain characters (looking at five, diego and lila especially) like this.
it made no sense. diego and lila formed a beautiful (albeit chaotic) relationship built upon mutual trust and authentic love that neither of them had ever experienced before. it was something they were teaching each other and learning together. that was a new beginning to them, and it was painted as such by the narrative. at no point were there hints that things would go sideways, no build up. every time they stumbled in the past it was still right back into each other's arms. at no point did their chaos look like an ending until it was shoved in our faces for... shock value? to shake things up? i fail to understand where it came from. they were relentlessly devoted to each other and the only two people who could stand each other for long. and so what became of them was very jarring. very messy.
five's ENTIRE character has been focused on and motivated by one thing: saving the people he loves. to the point that he was willing to let his own humanity become a forgone ideal, a renounced concept, as many times as it took. to the point that he essentially INVENTED TIME TRAVEL and INVENTED THE COMMISSION TO REGULATE IT. five's stoic exterior only barely concealed the claw-grip he had on every single family member, so why forget it now? why choose to go back on that? and in what world would five hargreeves willingly wait MONTHS to return to his family? because he was SUDDENLY in love with lila, no less? forgetting the very apparent fact that his age and body are not in alignment, five had never shown any interest in romance. especially not towards lila. but they do have very similar backgrounds, and so this was a chance to enrich the mutual understanding five and lila have with each other, expand the familial connections they have, especially seeing as how both of them -- in their own ways -- spent most of their life without that sort of connection.
ben's entire arc felt so, so out of place. completely and very ironically isolated from the entire rest of the series. nothing about it was fulfilling, nothing about it offered any sense of closure or even development. jennifer made no sense even as a plot device, much less as her own character. these two brought out nothing in each other.
klaus had the foundations of a good arc, but too much was introduced in too small an amount of time and none of it really went anywhere. i can say roughly the same for allison and viktor. THAT being said, of most of the scenes i did find myself genuinely enjoying this season, THOSE three were usually at the center! in fact, i really did love the scenes with klaus, allison, and claire. so that's cool. i guess. luther? he was just kind of... there?
and ray just fucked off with no explanation? okay. and reginald? until this point he had all the qualities of a potentially VERY GOOD and nuanced villain. his arc fell flat. and let's not forget all the other loose ends, but, you know, we've been here long enough. so. onto the next point.
none of these characters got to heal. none of them ever got to revel in anything meaningful, or, rather, the things that WERE meaningful across the whole series were rendered worthless because... none of it exists anymore! none of it ever existed! this is like an "it was all a dream" ending but much worse. and these characters are so, so incredible. i can only name a few other stories that have had characters i've connected to this deeply. and despite everything i could never really stop loving them. that makes it hurt more though tbh
anyways. i know i'm about to sound incredibly dramatic but the ending made me sob my lungs out. this show was really important to me. it led me to incredible people, other incredible stories, helped me live, etc. but i honestly found myself wishing i'd just never watched this series at all. the ending was eviscerating and Just Fucking Pointless. i don't think i'm ever going to be able to rewatch it. it's still hard for me to conceptualize that it was even real, that this is all we get. there's a lot more i could say about everything, but again, i've said a lot already and i'm not trying to write a fucking novel. i'll say more of what i want to in sporadic bursts i guess.
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rae-writes · 1 year
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dirty secret(s)
Levi x cam!reader
wc : 0.7k
warnings : nsfw
synopsis : Levi had a dirty secret. You had an even dirtier one.
a/n : honestly don't know how this thought popped into my head but my gods am I fucking glad it did-
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While Levi usually thought of himself as scum of the Devildom at most normal hours of the day, he thought he was even scummier when he locked himself in his room, headphones pressed snugly against his ears, with his sweatpants kicked off to the floor. 
The slick sounds filling his ears were absolutely vile— in the best kind of way. Plastered over his main monitor, lighting up his flushed and sweaty face, was the sight of someone bouncing on a pretty dragon dildo; it’d become his guilty pleasure to get on the site and watch them get off- someone he found by complete accident as he was scrolling online. 
The only thing he knew about them was they never showed their face, they always had a blank black sheet as a background, and they never talked. 
But it didn’t really matter when he was fisting his cock at the pace they were riding their toy, biting down on his tongue harshly to hide his moans when they came, forcing him to paint his abdomen white as he came right after. 
No, it didn’t really matter— especially when it was just Levi’s dirty secret. 
Until it wasn’t. 
You weren’t supposed to swing by his room that day, but you had some time and thought it would be best spent with Levi- only he wasn’t in his room. 
The only active sound that had been in his room was the whirring of his desktop. You only meant to shut it off- you weren’t supposed to see the way the screen lit back up with the sight of someone bent over, faux cum spilling out of their hole. 
You weren’t supposed to find out his dirty secret— but you did. And it became your dirtier secret.
Because the person on the video was you. 
It started off as a joke- just a little bet you lost with Asmo. When your first video got so much attention, you curiously did another, just to see what would happen; the money sent in as tips and donations made you make another video, and then another, and another. 
After a while, you spiffed up your page and made it all pretty and official— it became fun. Alluring. 
And then you found out Levi was watching and it changed everything. Suddenly, there was a particular heat constantly pooling in your stomach that wouldn't go away and your videos became centered around what you thought Levi would like. 
He was none the wiser. 
He didn’t suspect a single thing, not even when his favorite (and only) porn creator began making videos in anime cosplay of his favorite characters or began using tentacle related toys instead or made videos of them trying to not cum while they played his favorite video games. 
It all flew right over Levi’s head— right up until their latest video, posted only a few seconds ago. 
For the first time ever, they weren’t using a black backdrop. It was eye-catching— dark, but with bright leds. The shimmer of what seemed to be water washed over their bare lower half as high-pitched moans left them, hand desperately shoving a new toy in and out of their hole; it was another ‘tentacle’ but it was plain, dark colored, with scales carved in to create ridges for extra friction. 
The more he hyper fixated on them, the more things he started to notice: their toy kind of looked like his tail, the lighting looked exactly like his room’s, and the hoodie they wore…
With a choked moan, Levi’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull as he finally realizes he’s watching you— you in his room with his hoodie on, getting off on a toy that was meant to replicate his tail. 
And as the increase of your moans flowed through his headphones, getting louder and whinier until you were cumming with a choked cry of what could’ve been his name had you been just a little bit louder, Levi was practically sprinting through the halls of the house before slamming open the door to his room. 
And there you were, phone tossed aside on his bed as you laid back on his pillows with your legs spread and shiny with your cum, toy tossed aside to the ground. 
“Was waiting for you to figure it out...wanna feel the real thing, Levi…come play with me?”
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billybob598 · 9 months
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Were You Gay-Panicking? (Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader)
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IM BACKKKKK!!! Here's my bi-monthly fic :) I'm actually kinda proud of this one, felt like some good writing. Anyhoo enjoy bitches! As always, any feedback good or bad is welcomed! PEACE
Summary: (first time doing one of these) A few months ago, Kyra had no idea who you were. Now? Now, she was gay panicking everytime she was in the same room as you.
Word Count: 4.6K (WTF?!?!?!?!?!)
Kyra didn’t exactly know how to feel about you. Sure, you were Aussie. Sure, you were an amazing fullback who could run forever and never seem winded. Sure, you were quite possibly the sweetest person ever. Sure, you were stunningly beautiful. Kyra paused, her eyes locked onto you as you laughed that adorable laugh at something Katie had said. Okay, the thing about you being beautiful kind of slipped out. It’s not like it’s not true though. You did have this just natural beauty to you, you barely wore makeup, but you still shone in Kyra’s eyes.
 It was crazy that the two of you had never met before. You were roughly the same age, both Australian and now both Gunners. Unlike Kyra, you’re career up until this point had been riddled with injuries and unfortunate coincidences. Despite being an integral part of the Arsenal squad and having a breakout year last season, you were still not chosen for the World Cup, or any national team camps for that matter. Kyra had heard plenty about you from Steph and Caitlin, she had also seen you a bit on a few of the other Arsenal players' socials. You did have an Instagram account, but you rarely posted. Any true Arsenal fan knew who you were, but casual fans and Matildas’ fans probably hadn’t heard of you. You preferred to work in the background, you weren’t a big extrovert and your personality was more closed off so, consequently you weren’t insanely popular with the fans. So, when Kyra officially met you she had no idea how you weren’t the most liked player.
4 months ago
After finishing some of the required videos and finally signing her contract for The Arsenal, Kyra found herself wandering around the grounds. She had a few minutes until she was supposed to be at a press conference introducing all of the new signings, so she figured she could start exploring London Colney a bit more. As she passes through the locker room she hears some noise coming from the pitch. The distinctive sound of a boot colliding with a ball lures the Australian outside. The scent of fresh-cut grass and marking paint rushes into Kyra’s nose, bringing a soft smile to her face. Another ball gets kicked on the other side of the field. Turning her head, the midfielder is met with the sight of the prettiest woman she’s ever laid eyes on. She watched in awe at how your muscles flexed each time you struck the ball, her breath catching in her throat when you turn around. Your beautifully Y/E/C eyes glimmering, the sun hitting them just right. 
“Oh, sorry. I thought the field was open.” You mutter quietly, your face heating up slightly. 
“Uhm, it’s alright. I’m not here to play or anything. I mean-uh, well actually I am here to play, but not right now. At least I don’t think rig-” Kyra stumbles through her sentences until your giggle cuts her off. She blushes at the sound.
“No, I get what you mean,” you both stand there awkwardly, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously, “Well, I should probably get going.”
“Wait! Uhh, I mean you sound Australian, you are right?” Kyra asks, desperate to keep the conversation going.
“Yeah, yeah I am. I’m from Geraldton, you?” Your voice is quiet, but Kyra is already in love with it. 
“Herston, have you ever been?” 
“Yeah, I mean I’ve been to Brisbane, it’s nice.” The conversation comes to a awkward lull, Kyra can see how nervous you are. 
“I’m Kyra by the way.”  She extends her hand out to you. Glancing at it, you smile softly and take it.
“I know, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you. I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.” 
“You’re the Y/N Y/L/N? Holy shit, Caitlin and Steph never shut up about you.” A small blush forms on your cheeks. Kyra swoons at how flustered you look. She takes another second to admire everything about you. Just as she went to speak again a voice from behind her called out, telling her the press conference was about to start. “I’m really sorry, I’ve got to go. It was nice meeting you, I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah.” With one last smile, Kyra begins to back up and then turns and jogs to the man waiting for her. Tentatively, you touch your cheeks where the blush was still, very prominently, there. 
2 months ago
You watch from afar as Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph swing around from the bars singing along to Strawberry Kisses. A smile appears on your face when Kyra lets out a loud, silly laugh. 
A voice startles you out of your love-possesed trance, “You know, you’re really not subtle, like, at all.” 
“Shut up, Beth.” The England national smirks and for the next fifteen minutes proceeds to tease you about your developing crush on the new signing. 
“Okay, Beth, I think she gets it.” Your saviour, Viv, intervenes after her girlfriend makes a kissy face aimed towards you and Kyra. Beth groans and mumbles something about Viv not being any fun. Viv lets you go back to watching Kyra workout/goof around for a few moments before throwing her two cents in,
“You like her? Like, like like her?”
You sigh, “I don’t know yet. Would it be terrible if I did?” 
Viv shakes her head with a small chuckle, “Would it be terrible if you found someone you really liked and someone who is genuinely a good person? No, it’s not that bad.” You roll your eyes. 
“It feels pretty terrible. But, I guess it’s not too bad, especially since she’s never gonna like me back.” The older woman gives you a look, one that screams “you’ve got to be joking right now”. You and Viv had a certain connection to each other. Both of you were introverts on a team full of extroverts, so it was nice to have someone who didn’t mind just sitting in peace and quiet without any of the pressure of having to be “on”. 
“If Kyra liking you back is so crazy, then why is she staring at you right now with literal heart eyes?” Your head whips forward to find Kyra already looking at you. A blush was already creeping up your neck and you hadn’t even held eye contact for more than two seconds. 
Kyra is watching you carefully when your head turns to look at her. Her heart flutters when your cheeks tint red. A sense of pride swells in her chest at being able to make you blush.
“You two make me sick,” Caitlin says from behind Kyra. Steph is quick to shush the younger Aussie,
“They’re just in love, Cait. You can’t stop young love,” she says an annoying smirk tugging at her lips. Kyra rolls her eyes at her national teammates antics. 
“We are not in love. She definitely doesn’t like me, mate.”
“Sure,” Caitlin drawls out, seemingly unconvinced. 
“She doesn’t. I’m like 1000% sure.”
“Then why does she blush everytime you look at her, smile at her, or laugh?” Steph says, amused.
“Wh-What? No, she doesn’t. I think I’d notice.” The two older Aussies share a look, then they grab Kyra’s head and force it to look at you. Your eyes widen when you and Kyra make eye contact, heat already rushing up to your cheeks. She gives you a warm smile which does nothing to help your burning cheeks. Deciding that you’ve had enough biking for today, you step off the bike extremely ungracefully, bumping into everything and everyone. Kyra giggles from across the gym, her Australian friends rolling their eyes. 
“See? You two are so in love,” Steph tries to convince the younger girl. A frown replaces the small smile on Kyra’s face when you leave the gym,
“Whatever. You guys suck.”
2 weeks ago
“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Tony Gustavsson’s calm voice brings you back to reality. 
“Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” Your voice is shaky and weak. Someone’s warm hand covers yours, lifting your head up, your met with Kyra grinning from ear-to-ear. Returning her smile, you say your goodbyes to Tony and place the phone down carefully on the kitchen counter.
 You were, once again, at Kyra’s apartment. The two of you had grown closer over the past few months, unknowingly both of you had swallowed down your feelings for each other, convinced the other didn’t feel the same. It was driving the rest of the team crazy, and it was about to get worse. Finally, you had gotten your first call-up to the national team.
You and Kyra had been cozied up on her couch, watching a Christmas movie (because it’s never too early to start is it?) when your phone had began to ring. Of course, Kyra had already received her call a few days ago. It was hardly surprising, after the World Cup and with her recent performances for Arsenal she was an obvious choice for the last two friendlies of 2023. You, on the other hand, had long given up your dream of playing for the national team. Being a little bit older than Kyra and a lot more injury prone, your caps for the Matildas stood at a resounding, zero. You had never even been to a camp. So, last year when Tony never so much as gave you a call, you put your Matildas dreams behind you and focused on your club football.
“Who is it?” Kyra mumbles sleepily, she had been on the verge of falling asleep, it was impossible not to. You were perfectly situated between her legs, your head resting comfortably on her chest. The movie did little to distract her from the scent of your perfume infiltrating the hoodie she was wearing. 
“I don’t know, Ky. It looks like an Australian number.” 
“Wait, I know whose number that is.” She says, now fully awake.
“Who?”
She takes a deep breath, trying to hide her smile, “It’s Tony’s. Like Tony Gustavsson. The head coach of-”
“Yes, I know who Tony Gustavsson is! You don’t think he’s calling to invite me to camp is he?” You exclaim, your nerve levels rising as the phone continues to ring.
“Only one way to find out.” 
Standing up, phone in hand, you take a breath before accepting the call. Kyra sits up on the couch, her hands loosening her grip on your waist. 
“Hello?” Slowly making your way to the kitchen, Kyra only catches your side of the conversation. She takes a seat at the counter watching nervously as you pace back and forth in front of her. You pause. It looks like you’re trying to process everything. “Oh, uh, yes sir. I mean, yes coach. Thank you so, so much, I won’t let you down, I promise.” A full-on grin breaks out onto Kyra’s face, she reaches across the counter and takes a hold of your hand. After hanging up, there is silence in the small apartment for a few seconds. 
“So?” Kyra prompts softly.
“I’m going to play for fucking Australia!” You shout excitedly. You both squeal happily, Kyra rushes over and brings you into a tight hug. 
“Now we’re national teammates as well!” Kyra says into your neck, her heart pounding as you laugh your beautiful laugh.
Over the next few days Kyra helps you pack for camp, telling you all of the basic information you’d need to survive while also filling you in on all of the important bits about the team itself. Who’s friends with who, what not to say to this person, why this person acts like this. She was surprisingly helpful. So, when you, Kyra, Caitlin, and Steph boarded the flight to Australia you actually felt pretty prepared. Kyra sat beside you on the flight, chatting your ear off, you didn’t really mind though. It was how your friendship went. Kyra would talk about anything and everything, while you listened carefully, never ignoring her. She found it endearing how you remembered everything she said, sometimes she didn’t even remember herself. 
An few hours into the flight, Steph leans across the aisle asking Kyra if she knew who is supposed to bring them to the hotel when they land. Kyra remembers saying something to you about it so she turns and taps your shoulder. Taking out one of your earbuds, you look at them, raising an eyebrow. 
“Uh, do you know who’s supposed to be picking us up? I think I said something about it to you,” Kyra asks quietly, so as not to interrupt the other passengers.
“William.” You answer plainly. Kyra nods while Steph watches in shock.
“How in the hell did you know that? You don’t even know who that is.”
“Kyra told me last night, she also told me that she couldn’t wait to ride the ferry to Vancouver Island when we get to Canada.” Kyra blushes. 
“I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, slightly embarrassed. 
“It’s kind of hard not to when it’s all you would take about for ten minutes.” 
Steph has to cover her laugh at Kyra’s mortified face.
“Is that seriously all I talked about last night?” 
“You tend to do that. It’s actually kinda cute.” That last bit slips out before you can stop it. Now, you’re the one blushing. You decide it’s better to look out the window than to keep looking at them. Steph wanted to strangle the both of you. God, you were so oblivious. How could neither of you see that you were head over heels for each other? Whatever, you’d figure it out. Hopefully sooner than later because she had five pounds on you guys getting together before the new year. 
After landing and grabbing your luggage, just as you said, William was there with a car to bring you all to the hotel the team was staying at. Walking into the lobby, cameras point at you four. Kyra and Caitlin grin and wave goofily at them, probably saying something stupid as well. 
Steph smiles and waves happily, “Good to be home, huh?” 
You walk behind them, looking up and waving at the cameras shyly, “Alright?” 
“Hey, Y/N! Wanna do a quick interview with the other first timers?” One of the social media guys asks from behind the phone camera. Kyra stops. You look at her, uncertainty looming in your eyes. 
She nods encouragingly, “Go on. I’ll take your stuff and get your room.” 
“Thanks, Ky. I’ll see you later.” You smile and follow the man heading in the other direction. 
“So that’s the girl you like!” Charli shouts from across the lobby. 
Kyra flinches at the volume of her best friends voice, “Jesus Christ, Charli. Could you be any louder?” 
“Wanna bet?” Kyra shakes her head, not wanting to see how far Charli can take things today. “She’s really pretty, I can see why you like her.” The blonde says in a much more indoor appropriate voice. Kyra just rolls her eyes in response.
After a few good days of training and getting to know everyone, the team was in Canada. Walking onto the ferry with your hoodie drawn tight to you and your toque covering the top of your head, Kyra was bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy. 
“Kyra, for the love of God, please calm down.” Mini says, trying her best to calm the young midfielder down. Her words have no effect, Kyra continues doing laps around everyone. You were walking Sarah Hunter, another player about to earn their first cap, when Kyra gets in front of you and turns backward to talk to you. 
“Hi Y/N! Aren’t you excited about the ferry?” She asks. Her hyperness, you notice, was starting to annoy some of your teammates, specifically Caitlin, who looked on the verge of pushing her Arsenal teammate into the Pacific Ocean. 
“I am, Ky,” you lower your voice so only those close to you can hear, “But how about we tone it down, okay? We have lots of time to be excited, but maybe just chill for a few minutes so they can tell us where to go and what not, how’s that sound?” 
Kyra listens to you, she falls into step with you and speaks a lot softer and calmer. 
Mini stares on in disbelief, “Oh, Kyra is down bad. I mean, she didn’t even listen to me, but as soon as Y/N says something she’s on her best behaviour.” 
Steph shakes her head, “You should see them at Arsenal, it’s unbearable.” 
You and Sarah were in deep conversation about something Kyra couldn’t care less about. She wanted to go explore the ship, but she promised you she’d be on her best behaviour. Kyra is getting antsy and you can tell, she keeps turning her head every time there’s a new sound. You just needed to get wherever the guide wanted you guys to be and then she can do whatever she wants. Just as the team passes the gift shop, Kyra almost bolts. You catch her though, your hand intertwining with hers and securing her at your side. Kyra is taken aback by your actions and blushes profusely. 
In a break in your conversation with Sarah, you lean over and mumble into Kyra’s ear, “I know, Ky. Just hold still for a little longer, okay?” Kyra nods and presses a small kiss to the top of your head. You almost die of a heart attack right there and then. Blushing, you squeeze her hand and get back into your conversation with Sarah. 
“Holy shit, Kyra needs to man the fuck up and ask her out already,” Charli groans a few meters from behind you. Mini scolds her for her language, but silently agrees with her. 
“Fuck me,” You mutter under your breath as Canada scores, again. Surprisingly, Tony had given you and a bunch of other players their first caps. Unsurprisingly, Canada had been dominating the entire match. You were exhausted from having to run up and down the pitch for all ninety minutes. It seemed like you were the only player who wanted to attack, or defend, or do anything at all. You definitely weren’t blaming the other Matildas on the field with you, for most of them it was their first time in their nations jersey as well. You guys were also facing a team determined to get revenge and send off their hero in the right way, so that was not helping at all. What also wasn’t helping was that there was maybe five minutes left in the match, so both teams kind of switched off. No one really cared about this blowout anymore. 
Kyra was chewing on her nails as she watched another through ball to you get overhit and land straight at a Canadian defenders’ feet. She watched as you began your recovery run, eyes tracking the ball carefully. When Quinn tried to thread a ball to Prince you timed your slide tackle perfectly and intercepted the ball. The bench stood up clapping and shouting encouragement to you. Keeping the ball close to your feet, you stood back up and began dribbling into space. The defense were dropping off, determined to keep a clean sheet. Your eyes scanned the field hoping to find anyone making a run. Unfortunately, your teammates seemed gassed. So, you started to pick up your speed with the ball. Skillfully, you dribbled around Fleming and Grosso, picking your head up once again to find Tameka making a run on the weak side of the pitch. You hit the ball, aiming to lead her into the miles of green grass in front of her. She controls the ball in stride and continues driving down the wide right channel. Continuing your run, you jog up to the top of the box hoping to put any rebounds back into the box. Tameka sends a cross into the box, it heads towards the penalty spot, multiple players jump up for it. Ultimately, Gilles gets most of it and clears it out to the top of the box. Right where you are. Kyra stands up. You watch as the ball arcs in the air and starts to drop towards you. It’s as if everything is moving in slow motion. You plant your left foot into the grass, the ball drops and drops and drops. Pulling your right foot back, you wait for it to just drop a little bit more. Now. Straightening your leg, you watch your foot connect with the ball. The ball surges forward while your boot recoils from the impact. Your eyes track the ball as it soars through the air, it slips past the outstretched foot of Buchanan, Amy Sayer jumps out of the way. The goalkeeper tries her best, but it’s useless, the net ripples as the ball buries itself into the top left corner. Screaming is all you hear, you’re frozen in your spot. Suddenly, Mary is in your arms and the rest of the team is hugging you and screaming at you. 
“What a fucking legend!”
“Banger! Absoloute banger!”
“Mate, you’re actually insane.”
“First goal for the Matildas, bitches!”
Tears are welling up in your eyes as you set Mary down. Holy shit. You’ve always dreamed of scoring for the Matildas, all of a sudden that dream was a reality. Mary tugs on your hand and pulls you over to where the subs are screaming and jumping up and down. You laugh. Caitlin and Steph are the first ones to you, yelling at you that you’re a baller or something like that. After they let you go, Kyra is waiting for you. She’s got that blinding smile that you’ve always loved. She pulls you into a hug.
“I’m so, so proud of you, Y/N/N.” Her hands run gently through your hair, you sink into the hug, letting out a sigh.
“Thanks Kyra, for everything. Um, I should go though the ref looks mad.” She nods and relinquishes her hold on you. Jogging back into place, you breath deeply. Finally. You had finally done it. You were a fucking Matilda.
Present Day
The team had gathered for their annual Secret Santa party. This year, it was held at Viv and Beth’s house. All the players were crammed inside the living room, a lot of food had been consumed along with a lot of laughs being laughed. There had been a Christmas movie marathon (2 movies) where you and Kyra had found a nice spot on the couch for the two of you. There had also been a small potluck, everyone brining a small dish to share with the team. Now, it was time for the gift exchange. A few weeks ago, there had been a very formal name-drawing process. There were blindfolds and everything, you were actually kind of impressed at how serious the team took it. You had drawn Frida’s name which you didn’t really mind. You got along with her well, and you were both pretty chill so it was easy to hang out with her. Her girlfriend had helped you track down some Norwegian sweets that you know she loved, you also threw in an adorable polar bear stuffy you found at a cute gift shop in downtown, London. 
Everyone was going in a circle, unwrapping their presents and guessing who their Secret Santa was. So far, there had been some really sweet gifts and some really funny ones. Such as Katie giving Leah a toy keyboard, one that was really meant for two year olds. Katie defended herself saying, “It was appropriate for Leah’s skill level.”
Soon enough, it was your turn. You searched the small tree sitting in the living room for a gift with your name on it. Finding it, you carefully picked it up and sat back in your spot between Kyra’s legs. All eyes were on you as you gently unwrapped the gift, not wanting to be rude and just tear apart the wrapping paper. A gasp escapes your lips, hand flying to your mouth in shock. Everyone asks you what it is. You take it out of its case and hold it up for the team to see. Gasps similar to yours fill the room. A diamond necklace with your first name initial as a pendant hung from your fingers. It must have cost at least £100. You look around the room desperately, looking to thank the giftgiver endlessly. Multiple people shake their heads. Finally, you look behind you, Kyra didn’t meet even try to meet your eyes. Her cheeks were burning red, her hand rubbing her neck nervously. 
“Uh, do you like it?” You could hear the nerves in her voice. You were still a little shocked from the gift, so you stand up abruptly and grab her hand leading her towards the bathroom. 
Slamming the door shut, you whip around to look at your fellow Aussie, “What the hell? Are you insane?” Kyra flinches slightly at your tone.
“Do you not like it? Because I can return it and get you something else,” her voice was unsure. 
“Wha-? Of course I like it! I love it, I love you! But, Kyra this had to have cost a shiton, I can’t accept this as a gift.” You say forcefully, still not realizing what you had said. Kyra had heard it though.
“Wait, did you just say you love me?”
You freeze. Well, you had said that. Not on purpose, though. But, it’s not like it’s not true. Kyra tentatively reaches out and takes your hand in hers, 
“Y/N?”
WIthout even thinking you crash your lips into hers. She gasps, but eventually melts into the kiss, your lips working against each others perfectly. Her hands found their way to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your hands wrapped behind her neck at first before moving into her hair. As you tug on her hair she lets out a soft moan, giving you access to her mouth. Slipping your tongue inside of her mouth, she gently pushes you against the bathroom wall. A soft gasp at the cold tile lets Kyra detach her lips from yours and begin working her way down your neck. She presses wet kiss after wet kiss onto your exposed skin. Finally finding your weak spot, you moan her name quietly. Her perfume, her mouth on your neck, everything about her was overwhelming your senses. 
“Ky…Ky we have to stop, someone could hear us,” you moan out softly as she places more kisses on your collarbone.
“Mmm, maybe. Or we could just keep going?” She smirks playfully at you. Fuck, her smirk did things to you that you weren’t exactly proud of. Rolling your eyes, you pushed her off of you.
“They’re probably waiting for us to continue the Secret Santa. We shouldn’t keep them.”
Kyra groans and drops her head onto your chest. You laugh, and run your fingers through her hair soothingly. 
“Umm, I really like you, you know?” Her voice is muffled against you, but you heard her loud and clear.
“Oh really? I had no idea,” you say sarcastically. She slaps your chest in response. 
“Shut up, asshole.” Another laugh rumbles through your chest. 
“Sorry, sorry. I really like you too, Kyra.” She smiles lazily and leans in for another kiss. 
“Y’know, everytime I saw you I was, like, gay-panicking,” she confesses with a embarrassed smile.
“Awww, were you gay-panicking? That’s adorable.”
“Asshole.”
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