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#I wanted to use it for so long but it always felt too on the nose lmao
vampiric-tempt · 1 day
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≡;- ꒰ °When they get jealous ꒱
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➤ tw: slight suggestive themes
a/n: I've been really rusty with writing recently. Like really rusty, but I hope this is okay !! >:3
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Roronoa Zoro
Zoro’s brow twitched in annoyance as he heard your laughs across the deck. And not to him, but to the damn cook who swooned over your presence. 
Sanji continued to pepper your arms with kisses, giving you drinks and snacks whenever you wanted it. It was like he was crazier over you than anybody else on the ship. His partner. 
Zoro was too caught up in his thoughts, as he absent mindedly lifted his weights. 
“Zo?” You called. “Hey! Zo!” Your hands waved across his face causing him to jolt a little. 
“Y/n, hey.” Was all he said as he continued to lift his weights. 
You frowned. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”
“I’m fine.” He grunted, dropping his weights. He brushed past you and positioned himself for pushups.
You immediately knelt beside him with your lips pursed. You had a vague idea why he was acting this way and it was always for the same reason. “Y’know Sanji is just being nice.”
“Yeah.” Zoro deadpans. “Is kissing your arms nice?”
“N-no not necessarily…”
Zoro directed his eyes to the ground and started his routine. “We’re done here.” 
Not wanting to end the conversation, you persisted. “It’s just his nature Zo, y’know that. There’s no need to be jealous-”
“Jealous? Is that what you think this is?” He huffed. 
You bit the inside of your lips. “This is exactly what this is. I’m not blind.” 
Zoro halted his movements and moved to position himself in front of you. “Do you ever think to ask why I feel that way?”
“Can I ask now?” You leaned to meet his gaze. 
Zoro grumbled to himself. His hand rubbed against his neck. He didn’t know what he felt at that moment. Jealousy over Sanji, or the fluttery feeling in his stomach as you gave him that stupid look with your stupid cute eyes. “S’just I can’t provide the romance Sanji does. Sometimes I think you want that…and I can’t give it.”
A small smile reached your lips at Zoro’s vulnerability. “No, I think you’re perfect.”
The tips of Zoro’s ears reddened. “Yeah right.”
“No I’m being serious,” You scooted closer to him, hands tilting his head. “You’re my handsome boy.”
Zoro’s face flushed as he looked away, your gaze too strong. “Alright that’s enough!” He gently shoves you causing you to laugh. 
“What, I thought you liked that nickname?”
Zoro huffed. “I never said that.”
You hummed. “Are youuuu feeling any better?”
Zoro scratched the back of his head in thought and turned to you, a smirk across his face. “I will once you meet me in the bird’s nest tonight.”
Shaking your head you threw out a pinky “That’s a promise then, you dog.” 
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Crocodile
Miss All Sunday was a beautiful woman. Crocodile knew that, but he didn’t like the way she had you all over her. You were soooo curious about the books she has read, why didn’t you ask him about books. He read too. 
About five more minutes, Crocodile had enough. He made his way over and hooked you toward him. “Miss All Sunday, I think you’ve had something of mine a little too long. I require my partner’s presence now.” 
Robin smiled, she knew her actions had irked the man. “My apologies, I wasn’t aware you could get so jealous of us bonding over books?” 
Crocodile tsked and left without a second to spare, dragging you along with his hook. 
“You were jealous?” You asked, a hint of amusement to your voice. 
“Hardly, I merely wanted you is all.”
“Yeahh.” You dropped the subject and allowed your lover to drag you through the long corridor till you both stopped at a pair of dark oak doors. 
His hook ushered you in and you gasped at the sight. It was a large old looking library. “Since when was this here?” You awed. 
“Since forever. I just never bothered with it. But you, my love, seem to have an interest in books.”
You smirked. “So you were jealous. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
Crocodile rolled his eyes. “My love, if it’s books you want, I have way more than what that woman can give.” 
“And I appreciate the show of love.” Your hands dragged across the dusty books. “This actually means a lot, thank you.” 
You felt Crocodile’s hook hug your body as he dragged you toward him once again, his other hand making itself comfortable on your waist. “I can provide you way more than just books.” His tone lowered causing you to suck in your breath. 
“I know that.”
“Then why don’t I show you how much more I can provide you…perhaps in the master bedroom, my love?”
You placed a hand on his chest, the scent of his cigar blinding your senses. “I would love that actually.” 
“Then allow me.” He lifted you into his arms, making his way down the hall. You laughed excitedly and as you passed another hallway, your eyes met with Robin’s and all she gave was a wink before she left you two to your fun. 
You had to thank her later. 
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Trafalgar Law
He felt absolutely nothing whenever it was his crew hanging around you, but when his crew met up with the Strawhats and Kid pirates. He didn’t know what to feel when you got involved in a conversation between Zoro and the massacre soldier. Two relatively attractive men. 
Did he feel a little insecure, yes. But he wouldn’t admit that. Never in his life would he. 
It wasn’t till you two were alone in the tang, getting ready for bed did Law decide to speak up. 
“So, you seem very fond of the other crews.” 
“Oh,” You perked up at your boyfriend’s voice. “Yeah, they seem really cool.”
Law nodded at your statement. “I could see how some could be cool. Is there any that peak your interest?”
You pondered for a bit. “Um yeah, why the sudden questions Law?” 
Law shrugged. “Just curious s’all.” 
Shrugging you purse your lips in thought. “Well, I find the swordsman and massacre soldier really cool. Especially since they fought recently.”
“Yeah I saw you three talking.” Law says. 
“Yep, I was asking them about fighting tips, y’know useful things for further battles.” 
Law hummed. “I see.”
You tilted your head, eyes analyzing your lover. “Were you by any chance…jealous?” 
“Never.” Law was quick as he sat himself on his side of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
You laughed. 
“Why are you laughing, there’s nothing funny.” Law said defensively.
“Oh I knowww it’s just, you can be so cute sometimes.”
Law gave a look of embarrassment, eyes flickering between you and the wall. “C-cute??” I’m not cute.”
“Okay okay,” You scooted beside him. “You’re handsome.” 
Law smiled, leaning into your touch. “As you are, Y/n-ya.” He moved in for a kiss, a kiss you happily accepted. Your hands entangled in his as he moved over your body, arms on either side of your head. 
Law pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. “You do a lot of things to me Y/n-ya.”
“Like what?”
“Make me realize I’m the luckiest man alive. I never thought I’d be able to find love till I found you.”
You pulled Law in for a chaste kiss. “If making you jealous makes you this romantic, I would’ve done it sooner.”
“Don’t dream of it.” Law pinches your cheek and settles beside you. “If I were actually jealous I’d do a lot more than just be romantic, you know that.” 
“Ohhh I know.”
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aurumalatus · 1 day
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𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝟏
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pairing. kinich x fem!reader
genre/warnings. pixelprincess!au (princess!reader x knight!kinich), reposted for formatting lol
summary. a series of random headcanons from the universe! part 1 of many because i have lots of thoughts about these two
author's note. feel free to come scream about some more headcanons with me <3 enjoy!
𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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kinich and the princess have known about each other for a long time, but it’s only recently that they’ve really talked a lot and become close (since kinich became your guard)
kinich is a bit more open in this universe because although he grew up an orphan, he was recruited into the guard earlier and taken care of by his fellow trainees and the castle staff. he’s still pretty serious and deadpan at his core but he has a bit of silly in him too 
the maids especially used to dote on him a lot. they would coo about how beautiful his eyes are and sneak him cakes and sweets from the kitchen
kinich and the princess actually had one key interaction when they were children that she doesn’t remember
the princess came down with a bad illness and had to stay in her room for about a week. kinich was assigned guard right outside her room, but she never saw him. still, they used to talk a lot during that week through her door, and she never quite figured out who her temporary friend was.
princess used to be *very* spoiled and she knows this. kinich is one of the only people who knocks her down a peg, and he also taught her how to do a lot of practical things (i.e. cleaning, cooking, weaving) 
kinich takes his shirt off by grabbing the back of his collar and pulling it over his head (idk if i’m describing this well, but the image in my head is INSANE). 
once they actually get together, kinich is the type to kiss the princess’s tears away when she cries (i’m going to scream)
kinich secretly has always known he loved the princess in some capacity, maybe since the day he was inducted as her guard (he looked up into her eyes, knelt before her, and felt something burst in his chest). he doesn’t feel like he deserves her love in return and feels so committed to his duty that he won’t do anything about it.
kinich isn’t afraid of dying, but he’s afraid of leaving the princess alone. it’s the reason why he insists on teaching her so many practical things like fighting—he doesn’t trust anyone else to protect her like he can.
there’s a yearly tournament among the guards (and any citizens that want to enter) that is held to win the royals’ favor. kinich is required to participate due to his position, but he tries a lot harder than he lets on—something about letting another guard win kind of irritates him. he wins your ribbon as a prize, a sign of your personal favor, and keeps it on him at all times. he claims it’s just to prove that you owe him.
kinich is a TERROR in the capital marketplace. sellers love him and hate him—he’s fair, but he barters like HELL. you, on the other hand, are any easy target. you will pay pretty much any price they name, and this irritates kinich greatly.
kinich is in charge of training newer recruits to the guard, and older members will warn them not to mention the princess in front of him. last time someone said something disrespectful about her, kinich had them running laps until the sun came up.
most mornings, kinich trains at sunrise. the princess will come out to join him sometimes, either to just lay down in the grass and talk, or to bring out a picnic
many princesses from other nations are attracted to kinich, but he does not return the sentiment—whenever one tries to talk to him, he acts extremely dry and boring on purpose until they lose interest.
kinich has a lot of piercings, but they're not always optimal to fight in—on days when he expects a battle, he wears a pair of studs that the princess gifted him
the castle maids have a running bet on how long it will take you and kinich to get married. sometimes they try to push it along by telling kinich you're looking for him when you aren't, just to pull the two of you together. the pot is over one million Mora, and at some point, the queen joins as well.
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nerdy-novelist017 · 3 days
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Soaked (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Reader pt 8)
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Hello, my lovelies! Sorry this took forever to write and post but I’ve been very busy with real life (ew) and I’m actually posting this while I’m on vacation. I wrote it on the plane and am posting in the car so please be kind if you see any mistakes hehe 😉
Benny x Bunny Masterlist
Word Count- 4.7k+
Summary- Benny’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to marry you, but with such different lives, you’re not so sure it will be as easy as he claims.
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You felt the wind surge around you as Benny accelerated down the main road, his motorcycle roaring beneath you both. The world blurred past in a whirlwind of colors, but all you could focus on was the way your heart lifted, how a thrill of excitement shot through you as you zoomed past the rest of the gang. He did it just because he knew it’d make you giggle. And you did, the sound escaping you in a way that felt so carefree, so full of joy especially as you shot past Johnny and the others, leaving them in your dirt.
The wind was relentless, blowing your hair out of its carefully manicured braid, but you didn’t find yourself caring much anymore. The days spent with Benny had a way of shifting everything you thought had mattered. The things that once held so much weight – social status, gossip, public appearances – no longer seemed as important anymore. With Benny, it was almost like discovering a whole new world. No, not a new world. The same streets passed beneath the tires, the same faces you once worried about still existed. The world was still the same, but it was how he viewed it that felt so different. He didn’t care what others thought about him, didn’t pay attention to their expectations. He lived in his own world, surrounded by others like him that didn’t conform to the societal molds – people that you wouldn’t have even approached just based on their appearance. You never considered yourself a very judgemental person, but because of Benny, you have met and befriended people you could have never imagined.
That’s one of the things you loved about Benny. He wasn’t like anyone you had ever met before. He was different. And you were beginning to love that too.
He pulled off the main road, stopping in his signature spot in front of the club house. The roar of the rest of the gang pulling up sounded in the distance as Benny helped you off the bike. He held his grip on your hand, lacing his own fingers through yours as he pulled you gently into the bar. You followed him inside where the Vandals’ laughter and chatter soon filled the air. A familiar buzz of camaraderie enveloped the place, and before long, you found yourself seated around the table with a few of the core members. Benny was close – as always – with his arm draped over your shoulder.
“Hey, Bunny,” Cockroach’s voice cut through the sea of noise as he leaned forward and used his beer bottle to point at you. “When are you finally gonna say yes to our boy Benny, here?”
You stiffened slightly, the weight of the question hanging in the air and drawing the attention of the others at the table.
“Oh yeah,” Corky piped up, one eyebrow playfully cocked in a challenge. “He’s been asking, what, 100 times now? What’s the holdup? He’s not getting any younger, ya know?”
Heat filled your face at their teasing. Though Corky’s words were a bit of an exaggeration, they weren’t technically wrong. Since your kiss behind the clubhouse, Benny has asked you to marry him almost every day, sometimes more than once in a day. It had started by him mentioning married life in casual conversation, and you jokingly pointed out that he hadn’t actually proposed to begin with – not traditionally. And you were shocked to see him abandon everything he was doing in the moment to ask you to marry him. You giggled and rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but something deeper inside you caused your heart to flutter nervously. Since then, he’s asked several times, some in passing, a casual remark slipped into the conversation. Other times, he’d pause what he was doing, drop to one knee and grin up at you as if he were waiting for you to give in. But each time you’d laugh it off, brush it aside as him being unserious.
“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment?” you replied as you timidly played with the chain of your necklace, trying to deflect the attention.
“The right moment?” Cockroach parroted in disbelief. “He’s been proposin’ left and right for a week. Hell, I’d have said yes after the first time if it were me!”
The group laughed, and you tensed under Benny’s arm, wanting to melt into the floor from embarrassment. Benny squeezed your hand reassuringly, and he leaned, his voice dropping to a low murmur that was only meant for you, “They don’t mean nothin’ by that, you know that.”
You nodded, not trusting your own voice. He was right, you knew that. They didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but the constant razzing – especially with this particular subject – was start to weigh on you.
“Yeah, c’mon, Bunny,” Cal chimed in from across the way, “What’s it gonna take? Benny’s a catch! He’s got the bike, the looks, the . . . mommy’s issues. If you don’t say yes soon, you might lose your chance.”
That playful jab was too much for Benny who stiffened next to you. You expected him to get angry, to blow up like you had seen your father do when he was upset. But instead, Benny leaned forward, eyes narrowing with a playful glint that you had come to adore. The table was buzzing with laughter, but he wasn’t about to let the spotlight stay on you for too long. Without missing a beat, he flashed a grin at Corky, his hand raised as he said, “Alright, alright. But let’s not pretend you all ain’t desperate for a distraction since none of you can keep a bike upright without fallin’ on your asses.”
The table roared with laughter and Corky’s mouth fell open in mock offense. “That was one time! And I had an oil slick!”
Johnny immediately jumped in, “Yeah Corky, an oil slick you created when your bike was leakin’ everywhere.”
Laughter erupted again and you shot Benny a grateful look as the guys started ribbing Corky about his infamous fall. Benny’s eyes met yours briefly, his thumb brushing your hand under the table in a silent message: I’ve got you. Most of the group knew you were shy and did not appreciate being the center of attention in a crowd, and they respected that. However, there were a few class clowns (as Benny called them) who loved to tease you, knowing it could get a reaction without fail. But Benny never let it go on for long, always shutting them down when he recognized your discomfort.
They’ve never teased you about marriage though. You had to wonder if Benny had voiced his irritation to them at some point or if they had picked up on your hesitation organically. Either way, it left you feeling bad. Excusing yourself, you wiggled out of Benny’s grasp as you stood and made your way for the restroom, needing a moment to breathe, to clear your head. But just as you reached the back of the bar, a voice stopped you.
“You ain’t gotta worry about what they say to you,” Funny Sonny stood leaning casually against the bar top as he sipped a glass of whiskey. “That just means they like you, accept you.”
You paused, glancing over your shoulder at the table of rowdy bikers. “I’m just not . . . used to it. All the teasin’.”
Sonny nodded, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes as he grinned. “You’ll get used to it. Won’t be long till you’re the one throwing out the first jabs.”
He said it so nonchalantly, as if it were the most obvious course of action, as if you weren’t from completely different worlds. You furrowed your brows, eyes casting downwards as you admitted, “I’m not so sure about that. I’m not at all like you guys.”
“You don’t gotta be like us to be with us. We’re family here and family means lookin’ out for each other, even the ones who came from different backgrounds,” he said, his voice lowering a register to a bit more of a serious tone.
His words settled over you like a warm blanket, the concept so foreign yet so familiar. Family. You knew what that was, you had one, you were loved by one. But for some reason, it felt like it meant something different with the Vandals. They chose their family, stood by them despite no blood relation. Your parents loved you, you knew that. They showed it in their own ways every day. But by default, they had to love you. With the Vandals, they chose to care for each other, chose to look out for each other. In a way, it almost seemed more powerful, more profound.
Being Benny’s girl didn’t just mean he alone had your best interest at heart. It also meant having the rest of the Vandals on your side too, all of them looking out for you. You weren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced such an intense loyalty before, even from blood relatives. And it left you with a warm feeling in your chest.
When you returned to the table, Benny was already standing as if he were waiting for you. His eyes met yours with a slight unease, almost like he thought you wouldn’t come back, like he thought you were so upset that you’d sneak out the backdoor.
“Wanna go for a night ride?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand extended out for you.
Your heart squeezed at his thoughtfulness. He knew how much you were growing to enjoy the feeling of blazing down the empty streets under a star-filled sky with him. A smile tugged at your lips, and you took his hand without hesitation, nodding.
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand slid into his own. You were vaguely aware of the groans and exaggerated protests from the table about the night being still young, but you didn’t hesitate to follow Benny as he led you to the door. He pulled you along to his Harley, the cool and fresh air a welcome change.
The tension from earlier still lingered as Benny’s hand touched your leg, helping you onto the back of the bike. You wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing your face into his back, finding solace in the familiar scent from his jacket.
He drove you around the city, stars and stop lights shining above, engine roaring below. He eventually pulled off the main drag, heading down a quieter road that led out of town. The blacktop blurred beneath you as he slowed the speed to more of a lazy joyride. He took a familiar turn, stopping at the small pull off area before a bridge. The sound of the engine faded as he brought the bike to a stop, the air filling with crickets’ song. The night’s air was breezy, but a welcome change from the hot, loud atmosphere of the clubhouse.
Benny dismounted first, reaching out to help you down. His touch – lingering longer than necessary – against your arm felt electric, sending a jolt of butterflies to your stomach, his eyes searching your face as if he was trying to read your thoughts. The two of you walked over the concrete bridge, pausing once in the middle. You leaned over the railing, getting lost in the gentle swirl of the water below. But Benny was lost in the sight of you.
“You alright?” he asked, his voice low, the usual playful teasing replaced by something softer and reserved only for you.
With your heart beating hard at his gentle tone, you nodded. “I’m fine.”
He frowned, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair from your face. “I know the guys can be a bit much. I don’t like when they tease you like that. I didn’t mean for them to make you uncomfortable.”
You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his words, knowing that wanting to protect you was something he took very seriously, even if it meant from his own friends, his own family.
“I know,” you responded softly, leaning your chin on your hand over the railing.
“I’ll talk to them, make sure they won’t raz you like that anymore,” he promised, his expression serious.
“It’s not that. It’s just . . . I don’t know. It’s a lot to get used to,” you admitted gently. Before Benny, you’d never even been in a bar before, never ridden a motorcycle, never stayed out past curfew. He was a completely different experience than you were accustomed to. And now he wanted you to marry, after only knowing him for a few weeks. He wanted to be your husband, your partner for life. Your life felt like a bit of a whirlwind ever since you met him, but you wanted to be certain it wasn’t just fun because it was new.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes tracing your features, his hand resting over your own. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, something in him conflicted. Finally, he released a soft sigh, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. “You don’t have to answer them, you know. Hell, you don’t have to answer me. Not till you’re ready.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you breathed in his scent – leather, smoke and something uniquely Benny. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I . . . ”
Benny pulled back slightly, his fingers tilting your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “Hey, you don’t owe anyone an explanation, not even me. You’ll say yes when you’re ready. And when that time comes, I’ll be here. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as it was your turn to kid. “How do you know I’ll say yes?”
Benny’s smile was gentle but still roguishly confident. His hand lingered on your cheek, his fingers tracing down the curve of your jaw as if he were mapping every detail of you. “I just know. When you feel it – when it’s real – you just know.”
He said it so simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, as if love were the most uncomplicated concept. You didn’t understand that, couldn’t see it that way. You’d seen the love your parents shared and that was beautiful and kind but it was also messy and cruel more often than not. And you understood that your parents were not the only representation of what love and marriage was supposed to be, but it was a constant presence in your life. They didn’t have perfect love, not like what you’d see in the movies or read in books. And you wondered if maybe you were giving too high of expectations for what love was supposed to be, but what you felt when you were around Benny . . . well, it felt exactly like the books described.
The way he looked at you, as if you were the most important thing in the world, made you feel so seen. The way he listened to you as if you were the most entertaining show, made you feel so heard. And the truth was undeniable: you were falling for Benny faster than you thought possible. It was terrifying. Benny was all fire and freedom, a rebel who didn’t play by the rules, who followed his own path with reckless abandon. And you admired that about him, but the thought of stepping into his world permanently felt like stepping off a ledge into the unknown.
“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asked, pulling you back into the present.
You pulled back slightly, biting your lip in contemplation before speaking your mind, “Don’t you wonder if there are other girls out there that you haven’t even met yet? Girls who are more suited for you?”
He shook his head, his voice light as he said, “Nah, I know you’re the only one for me, kid.”
“But marriage is serious. It’s forever.”
His hand slid down to your hip, turning you to face him fully, his expression solemn. “I never . . . I never thought marriage was real. The way I saw my mom and old man together . . . what they had wasn’t love. And I realized that at an early age. I didn’t think it was something that was real, just a bunch of fairytale bullshit you tell little kids. The girls I’ve been with, girls that may have been more suited for me, have never made me feel what I feel with you, Bunny. This is serious to me too because it proves everything I’ve never believed in.”
Emotion caught in the back of your throat as you pictured the man standing before you as just a boy living in a toxic household, an unloving home. It made you want to hold him tight, to shield him from the rest of the world. The man who held you so gently, who took you for night rides just to cheer you up. The man who came to your bake sale when nobody else did. The man who promised to drive slow so as not to scare you. The man who said he’d follow you all the way to California so that you didn’t have to go by yourself. The man who taught you about his hobbies with eagerness, and listened to yours with attentiveness.
He deserved to be loved in the same way he loved. But the tragic thing was that he didn’t see that, couldn’t comprehend someone loving him like that. He was damaged by his childhood, and you realized that he didn’t think he was worthy of repair. But you’d show him that he was, that he was worthy of everything he never had.
Slowly, you lifted your hands to gently cup his face, and his breath hitched in his throat. There was a shift in his expression – his usual teasing and bravado now replaced with some raw and unguarded as though he was offering you a glimpse into a deeper part of him, one rarely ever shown to anyone.
He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “You’re not just some girl to me, Bunny. You know that, right?”
The words sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t playing around now, not hiding behind his usual flirty quips. His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You swallowed thickly. “But what if I mess this up? What if I’m the one who can’t do this?”
Benny’s brows furrowed and he lifted a hand to brush across your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding. “You won’t. You couldn’t, even if you tried.”
“You’re making it sound so easy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you didn’t quite believe him.
Benny could feel your tremble, the shaky laugh betraying your nerves you were trying so hard to hide. He could sense your heart racing, and he wanted so desperately to be the one to soothe it, to take away the hesitation in your eyes. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, the soft curve of it making his heart ache in his chest. He loved how your lips quivered just slightly under his touch. He loved making you blush, loved teasing you until you looked at him like you were annoyed or completely at his mercy. But this . . . this was different. His touch lingered on your lip, slow and almost reverent as he savored the way you responded to him. It wasn’t about teasing anymore – it was about showing you what you meant to him.
“It is,” he murmured, his voice a little rougher than he intended “It’s easy because it’s you.”
The air between you felt electric as his hand slid down the curve of your neck, his fingers lingering there, feeling the steady thrum of your heartbeat that seemed to match his own wild one. He ducked his head slightly as he whispered, “You’re scared. But you don’t need to be.”
He meant it, more than he meant anything in his life. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, searching for any sign of doubt, any sign that you didn’t feel the same way he did. Your eyes – wide and uncertain – met his, and Benny felt the weight of his words over them both.
“How can you be so sure?” you asked, your soft voice almost disappearing in the night.
And how could he explain it, especially since he’s never been good at explaining his feelings? How could he put into words what was so abundantly clear to him? That you made everything – even the most outrageous things – seem possible. That with you, he didn’t feel like just some fuck-up waiting for the next diaster. With you he felt grounded, like he belonged somewhere. Like you saw him for more than just the wild, reckless kid everyone else saw.
“Because you make me sure,” he responded with a gentle, encouraging smile as his hands moved to tilt your chin upwards to him. “You make my life feel like it’s supposed to.”
His gaze moved down to your mouth once more as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, and he simply couldn’t resist anymore. He closed the gap, brushing his lips so softly against your own. The kiss was gentle, tender, but as you responded to his touch, the need that had been simmering inside him for so long flared to life. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, smiling into the kiss when he heard your slight gasp.
His heart pounded in his chest as the world seemed to fade away briefly until it was just you and him, just this. He never wanted to stop, never wanted to let you go.
But you did eventually pull away, the need to breathe becoming all consuming. Breathlessly, he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as he focused on slowing his pulse. His hands remained on your waist, holding you like you might slip away if he let go.
“You see?” he whispered as his lips brushing against your forehead softly. “It’s easy being with you.”
You giggled and his heart soared at the melody. It took everything in him not to pull you back into another kiss, not to hold onto you like you were the only thing that kept him grounded.
His lips still tingled from the kiss, and he could taste the faint sweetness of your breath, the softness of your lips. It wasn’t enough. It never felt like enough for Benny. He wanted more of you. He’d never wanted anything like he wanted you, never craved anyone like he craved you. It was almost unbearable, like every second where he wasn’t touching you was a second wasted.
And yet, he knew you were scared. He could see it in the way you looked down at your shoes, could hear it in the timidity of your voice. It only made him want to protect you more, to make you see that being with him would never be something you had to fear. But he didn’t know how to say that without sounding like he was pushing, without making you feel like you were being rushed into a decision that was as much about you as it was him.
But damn if he didn’t want to make you his.
He opened his eyes and pulled back enough to look at you face again, to really take you in. And my god, the way you were looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes made his chest tighten. And you didn’t even realize how much power you had over him. One look, one smile, and he was a goner.
Before either of you could speak, thunder cracked off in the distance, bringing you both back to the present, back to the rest of the world. You glanced up at the dark clouds that blew in to cover the stars, wondering how long you had stood on this bridge with Benny.
“Guess we should get back,” you said sheepishly.
“Guess so,” Benny replied with a lazy grin as though the storm could come crashing down and he’d still be perfectly content standing here with you.
“Do you think it’s going to rain?” you asked as you walked to his bike, glancing up at the thick, dark clouds blowing in from the west.
“Nah,” he said as he swung a leg over the bike with that signature confidence that made your heart race. “We’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.
******
By the time Benny pulled up to your house, rain was pouring from the sky like a waterfall, fat and heavy droplets splattering onto the sidewalk. Despite wearing Benny’s Vandals jacket, the rain had completely soaked you. Your hair, which had been meticulously pinned up just hours ago, was plastered to your face, and your dress clung to your body like a second skin.
You didn’t wait for him to shut off the bike before you hopped off and tugged on his sleeve.
“C’mon!” You laughed, tugging on Benny’s sleeve as you ran for the safety of your porch overhang. Your heels splashed through the water pooling on the blacktop, and he followed quickly behind, his warm hands finding your waist to steady you from falling as you both stumbled beneath the overhang.
Breathless and grinning like an idiot, you turned to face him, and you were momentarily stunned by the sight. Rainwater rolled down from his usually swept up hair, sliding down the curve of his cheekbones and falling off his jawline. He only wore a whote t shirt, the wet fabric turning almost transparent as it clung to every ridge, every toned muscle and you blinked before your gaze shot back up to his face. Even as wet as a drowned rat, he still managed to look so effortlessly sexy.
He was grinning at you with that boyish expression, and heat filled your face at the realization that you were just as soaked as he was but definitely not as pretty a sight. You probably looked like a mess — makeup smeared, hair ruined — but he was staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.
“Not gonna rain, huh?” you teased, quirking an eyebrow at the heavy rainfall just off your porch.
“Just a light sprinkle,” he returned easily, but you noticed he had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“Do you wanna come in?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. “To dry off?”
He sobered instantly, his gaze raking over your form before moving to your front door. He’d never been inside your house, never seen where you call home, where you lay down at night and replay your memories of him. There was never really an option for him to be inside your house. He’d never met your parents — despite asking multiple times to meet them, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put neither your parents nor Benny though that. Deep down, you knew your father would never approve of Benny, never give him his blessing. It was a disaster waiting to happen when he found out that you were dating a biker. You begged your mother to keep it a secret to which she obliged, but you knew it wouldn’t be long till he found out.
Benny took a full step back from you, hesitation obvious in his face, his voice low and almost regretful he said. “I—I better not, Bun.”
Normally, you wouldn’t ask again after being denied, wouldn’t be so bold. But you weren’t the same girl you were a few weeks ago before you met Benny. Emboldened by the perfect opportunity to have him inside your home, to share a piece of yourself with him, you stepped forward.
You took a step forward, your voice soft but sure. “My parents aren’t home. C’mon, just to dry off and wait till the rain lets up a little. You can’t drive in that anyway. It’s not safe and I won’t let you.”
Benny released a breath that sounded a lot like a laugh as he shook his head, clearly conflicted by your invitation. And for a moment, you thought he might shake his head and turn away. You thought he might face the rainstorm and leave you behind.
But instead, he nodded and your heart soared at the small gesture. Filled with hopeful energy, you shot him a smile, moving to open the front door and invite him inside your home, inside your world.
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thecuriousbeauty · 2 days
Note
can you write something with cowboy harry, like a sex in a pickup truck or something like that?
Easy there, Cowboy (Cowboy!Harry x reader)
A/N:- I made this a oneshot cause once I started writing it, I just kept going. Now I understand the obsession with cowboy tropes these days. Thanks for the request, anon! Let me know if you guys would like a part 2!
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Word Count: 5,131
Warnings: Smut. Oral(m receiving), fingering, penetration(p in v), dirty talk. Talks about horses and horse riding.
Synopsis: y/n decides to go home to the countryside when she gets a university break. Little does she know she'll fall in love with the new cowboy who's working in her father's ranch.
______________________________________________
You felt great to be back home. You grew up in the countryside, in your father’s ranch and around all the different animals. But your father had big dreams for you, he didn’t want you to spend your life tending to the ranch like he did. So you studied, and went off to the city to attend university. You always rush back home when you get breaks. As much as you love the city, you miss your home and its people so much.
“I might take Clover for a ride today, dad.”, you tell your father as you sit with him, eating breakfast. Your mother kept piling your plate with food, murmuring about her daughter not eating enough while being away.
“Yeah? He’s been a bit aggressive these days. The vet said he’s alright, don’t know what’s wrong with that one, cost me a fortune to get him.Thought I’d use him for the race, but I’m not so sure now.” Your dad mutters, making you frown. “That doesn’t sound like Clover.”
Clover was your favorite horse and he was always gentle to you. “Yes, see for yourself. Harry will be around when you go, just ask him if you need something.”
Your dad has talked to you a lot about Harry, the new cowboy who started working for your father. He had joined a few months back, just when you left, so you had never met him. Your mom and dad seemed to love him though. They said he’s helped bring up the profits by a huge margin. 
“Mom, I’m stuffed!”, you laugh, pulling your plate back as your mom comes with more home made sausages.
 “Eating all that city food has messed with your appetite, sweetie. You used to eat so much as soon as you got back from the ranch!”
“Because I used to get tired from helping dad.”
The ranch wasn’t too far away, so you decided to walk. You put on your boots, and got going. Your father’s ranch had all kinds of animals. Chickens, cows, sheep. But what interested you most were always the horses. And that’s where you rushed off to first. 
The earthy, dusty woodchip and ammonia laced smell of the stables reminded you of the horse races your dad used to take you to when you were young. 
“Well hello, Silver!” You greeted the first horse, who immediately greeted you with a happy neigh, nuzzling her head right onto your shoulder as you reached out to stroke her shoulder and neck, giggling. “How’re you doing girl?”
You had named most of the horses, and the method you used was their appearance. Silver is a beautiful white horse. White horses are quite rare and Silver was your family’s favorite. She has won a lot of races with her impressive speed.Your father’s very proud of having her. The only problem is that she’s getting old.
You greet the other horses, and finally make your way towards the last one, kept separate from the others, which makes you frown. 
You loved all of the horses, but this boy is your favorite. He is younger than most of the other horses, yet, he’s the only one who can beat Silver in races. He has a rich brown body with defining black shading on his legs and tail. His soft parts, such as the muzzle and eyebrows and around the flanks, are golden brown. 
“Might wanna be careful with that one, miss.”
You turned around to see the handsome young man, watching you curiously. With the long dirt covered boots, and the cowboy hat he had on, you figured he was Harry. 
Wow. You had no idea Harry was hot.
“Why’d you say that?”, you ask.
He pushes the barrel of horse feed to a side, dusting his big hands against each other. His sleeves were rolled up and you could see that his skin was inked. Just his sculpted arms made you imagine how he could use it to hold you down while-
“He’s not as friendly as the others. Doesn’t hesitate to put down whoever irritates him, which is just about everyone.”, Harry speaks, not taking his eyes off you. He had sharp jaw bones, captive green eyes and beautiful features on his face. 
Harry’s lips turned up into a smirk as he caught you checking him out and you quickly looked away. “Are you here to look at horses?”, he asks.
“No, I’m here to take Clover for a ride.”, you tell him, smiling as you look into the big beautiful caramel eyes of the horse’s, letting him know it was you, before you slowly move your hand to stroke his neck. 
“You know his name and he seems to know you, seeing as how you’re not on the ground yet.”, Harry comments. “But I would advise stepping away right about, now," he adds as you move your other hand to stroke his body. 
“Hey buddy, you miss me?”, you coo softly, grinning as the horse lowers his head down to you and you nuzzle your against his forehead. “I missed you too.”
Harry had never seen the horse being affectionate to anyone. But if he was a horse, he would definitely want to get close to you as well. You talked to the horse like you were talking to a child. 
“He’s never been aggressive around me, Harry. We rode round the hills every evening.” Harry strides right next to you, slowly putting a hand on the horse as well, and he didn’t make a fuss at all. 
“See? Just needs a bit of extra love, this one. Oh I’m y/n, by the way.” Harry smiles, already having put that together by now. Your dad always talks a lot about you, his only daughter. He never expected you to be so strikingly beautiful though. 
“Nice to meet ya, y/n. No wonder why Clover likes you, he’s fallen for your beauty.”, Harry says, making you giggle as Clover continues to nuzzle his head against you. “Lucky horse, getting to flirt with you.”
“I much prefer animals over humans, anyway.”
“Why is that, y/n?”
“Cause they don’t cheat on you, they don’t lie to you, they’re innocent and they deserve our love.” 
Harry was now very interested to know more about you. “You don’t think there are humans capable of that too?”
y/n shrugs, going to open the small door to get Clover out. “Maybe.”
“Well there are things animals can’t help ya with, ya know.”, Harry says, stepping aside as you lean down next to him to undo the lock. He sucked in a breath as he saw your ass in those tight jeans. 
“Nothing I can’t do to myself.”, you answer, getting up and turning around to look at Harry. “I’m gonna take Clover out now. Nice to meet you too, Harry.” You give him an innocent smile, and he gives you a smile back, but his mind was already having thoughts. The kind of thoughts he shouldn’t have about his boss’ daughter.
______________________________________________
You were out with some friends at the local bar, catching up. Most of them were in relationships, so you felt a little awkward after some time. You excused yourself to go get a drink. 
“Aren’t ya a fine little thing. Haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”, a heavily drunk man steps in front of you, eyeing your body up and down, letting out a low whistle.
“That’s cause I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere around you.”, you mutter, stepping aside but he blocks you with his body, letting out a laugh. “I wonder what else you can do with that mouth, little girl. Wanna show me?”
“Move!”, you snap as you try to go through his other side and he steps in front of you again. 
“Clint, leave her alone.” You were surprised to see Harry step in between you two, pushing the other man away with a hand on his chest. “She’s not interested. Go away.”
The man grumbled before going away, and the tall cowboy turned to you, his eyes looking you over. “Are you okay?”
He was not in his soiled work clothes. He had a different, cream colored cowboy hat on, and boots, but not the ones he was wearing back in the farm. The light colored shirt he was wearing fit around his muscular torso very well, and it was slightly translucent, allowing you to see that there were more tattoos on his body. 
“y/n?”
You quickly nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks Harry.”
“People around here never really change.”, he says, giving you a small smile. “You look bored.”, he notices.
“Is it that obvious?”, you let out a laugh. His eyes twinkle as he smiles. “My friends are busy snogging their boyfriends’ faces off. I was just about to get a drink before leaving.”
“Well, let me give you some company.”, he says, nodding his head towards the two bar stools at a corner.
“Oh it’s okay Harry, you must be here with your friends too-”
He cuts you off before you complete, “They’ll survive without me for a while.”
So you follow him to the bar, and you both order your drinks. “Do you wear your cowboy hat all the time?”, you ask, making Harry chuckle. “Most of the time, yeah. Is it not my style?”
“No it is, you look great-” You flinch and Harry smirks, spinning on his stool as he faces you. “Thanks, love. I think you look beautiful too.”
You know the blush is creeping up your cheeks, and you hope he doesn’t see them. “Thanks. Um, tell me about you, Harry. My parents speak very highly of you.”
“I love working for them, and they treat me well! There’s nothing much to know about me, I’m a cowboy, I love my cattle and horses.”, he says plainly. “But you, you’re interesting. What do you study?”
You tell Harry about your course in the University, and how your father didn’t want you to spend your life on the ranch like he did. 
“You must think I’m some stuck up bitch, I lost most of my friends like that.”, you say, chugging some beer from your jug. 
“No, I don’t think so at all! It’s amazing that you’re studying something you love, and it’s not like you forgot about your home. Like I said, the people here will never change, y/n, don’t think too much into it.”
You nod, smiling at him. “Now I know why my parents like you so much.” Harry wasn’t anything like the other men you’ve met. He had a broad mind set, and he was respectful.
He grinned, showing off his dimples. You haven’t been able to take that cute smile out of your head since the time you first saw it. You spend some more time talking with him, until you decide to stop on the beer. 
“I blabber shit when I get drunk. Don’t wanna embarass myself.”, you explain, and Harry laughs, swiping his hand over his lips as he keeps his empty jug on the counter. “I’m sure it’s not gonna be embarrassing, love. What do you usually blabber about?”
Your heart melted at the term of endearment, and you took a minute to answer his question. “Uhh, things on my mind at the moment.”
“Hmm. What’s on your mind at this moment?”, Harry whispers, leaning closer to you. Your eyes move to his lips. You really want to kiss those lips, throw his hat away, run your fingers through his hair while he pulls your clothes off of you.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”, you answer instead.
“I really would. Think I know already but it would be much better if I can hear it from your sweet voice.” You tip your head to the side, watching him pull out some cash to pay for the drinks. “I can take care of mine-”
“My treat! Got my monthly pay from your dad today.”, he winks at you and says bye to the bartender. “Come on, I’ll drop you home.”
“Is it on your way?”
“Yes, I live on the next street.” He places a hand on the edge of the barstool, keeping it steady so you can hop off. You get out of the bar and Harry points to the truck. “That one.”
“Of course. You drive a truck.”, you nod as you follow him and he laughs. “What? Do I look like someone who drives a truck?”
He does, actually, you thought. Big and strong.
“It has a lot of space, you know, and I use it a lot for work.” He opens the passenger side door for you, offering you his hand to get in since the seat’s a little high up. You held his calloused fingers, they were rough but also really warm and strangely comforting. You realized you were still holding on to it, so you quickly dropped it.
If Harry had noticed it, he didn’t comment on it as he closed your door and went to the other side.You sat in silence for a while, until he asked you, “Do you think Silver’s the best option for the race?”
“She’s great, we use her all the time but I think Clover’s our best bet if we wanna win.”
“I think so too, he’s faster.”, Harry answers. “And as far as I’ve seen, you’re the only one who can ride him, so you should do the race instead of me.”
You turn to look at him. “Harry, you won our last race with Silver. Besides, I won’t be here that long, I’ve gotta go back to uni.”
“Oh.” His face looked a little disappointed. 
“How about we work with Clover together? I’m sure we can train him in time for the races. He’ll let you ride him. If not, Silver’s always a backup option.”
Harry slowly nodded.  “I’m using you as defense if he decides to be mean, though. That horse can kick.”
You laughed, slapping his arm lightly. “I think he just doesn’t like you!”
“Oh come on, everyone likes me! You just met me and you’re already falling for me.”
You gape, turning around fully to face him. He had a smug grin on his face. “I-I’m not!”, you say, but your face was heating up.
Harry shrugs. “Whatever you say, love.”
It was wrong. He worked for your dad. But God, as cocky as he was, it was the truth. You are falling for him, hard.
____________________________________________
“I’m gonna go get this to the houses, thanks lad.”, you hear your dad as you go downstairs. You had just woken up, but everyone else already had and they were on and about their work. 
You wouldn’t have gone down stairs in your shorts and an old t-shirt if you’d known Harry would be there. He had brought in the milk supply from the cattle for the day. You finally saw him without his hat, which was tucked under his arm. 
He had lucious brown locks, curly at the ends. 
“There she is, sleep well, honey?”, your mom asks you and Harry’s eyes shoot up to look at you. He takes in your outfit, and smiles. 
“Yes mom, good morning everyone.”, you say, going down the rest of the stairs since Harry’s seen you anyway. 
“Harry told us what you want to do with Clover and I think it’s a good idea! Nothing wrong in giving him a try.”, your dad says and you nod, looking everywhere but at Harry. “Be careful.”, he adds.
“Don’t worry dad, I’ll watch out for Harry.”, you say, making them laugh. 
“Nice to know.”, Harry says, drowning the rest of his tea and your mom takes it from him. “Thanks, Mrs.y/l/n. I’ve gotta go now, I’ll be around whenever you wanna come over.”, he tells you and you nod. 
“We have to go to the market in the evening to pick up some more fodder.” Your dad walks him out.
“Sure, I’ll bring my truck.”
You went over to the farm later, finding Harry feeding the cattle. “I liked your outfit in the morning.”, he calls out to you, making you roll your eyes. “Shut up.”
“Seriously, it was cute.” You grab the extra gloves laying around, putting it on and grabbing the sweeper. “Thanks! I finally saw that you have hair, I thought you were bald.”
He scoffed, and you grin before starting to sweep all the dirt. “y/n! Leave it there, I’ll do it. Don’t get yourself dirty.”
“It’s fine, I grew up doing this stuff. I’d love to let you do it, but we don’t have all day, Harry, you and Clover need all the training time you can get.”
“Yes ma’am.” You didn’t know, but Harry made a mental note to get up extra early tomorrow so he can finish all his work in time before you came over. He found himself staring at you in awe. You had tied your hair up into a high ponytail, keeping it away from your face that barely had any makeup on. 
“Pass me the shovel, Harry?”
He snaps out of his trans, getting up and taking the shovel, grabbing the sweeper out of your hands. “What-”
“-I got this, you can feed them.”
He didn’t really give you a choice so you switched places. Once you were done, you headed to the stables to get Clover. Harry kept the saddle and blanket over the horse, getting him ready as you wore your helmet and gloves. You mounted him and he trotted along, making a guttural neigh as Harry kept one hand on the bridle. He was walking alongside you, holding his helmet in the other hand.
“Be nice, Clovie.”, you rub under his neck, and look at Harry. “He likes neck rubs a lot, so if he’s getting restless, that’ll help.”
“Noted.”, Harry nodded. Once you were out to your usual spot where the horse can run free, you got down. “You gonna let Harry ride you?”, you coo, as the beautiful eyes of the horse look at yours. 
Harry carefully mounts the horse and he neighs, immediately trying to shake him off. Harry has experience with a lot of horses so he didn’t fall right away, he held on with one hand and reached to do the neck rub. 
“There you go, it’s okay, Clovie..”, you say, nodding at Harry as the horse calmed down, just a little bit.
“What’d ya say we go for a small ride?”, Harry asks the horse. Clover was clearly ready to let go and run. 
“Keep talking to him, he likes it.”, you tell him, stepping away and taking your helmet off. “I’ll wait here, come back safely!”
“If I die let my mum know that-fucking hell!” You couldn’t help but laugh as the horse took off. This was going to be fun.
______________________________________________
In the next few days, you worked with Harry to train Clover and they were looking good for the race. Clover had stopped throwing Harry off for fun, and you loved to know that Harry didn’t think he was an aggressive horse anymore. He just requires a lot of attention. 
You noticed Harry coming to your house quite often too. He would either bring something in for your mom and dad, or come to take something for the ranch, stealing glances at you whenever he came. 
You were sitting up in the balcony with a book in your hand when he came that day, and Harry was disappointed he couldn’t catch you. He was just going to his truck parked outside when you whistled.
Harry looked up with wide eyes, and grinned, but put his finger up to his lips. “Your dad’s right here!”, he mouthed and you giggled. 
“Can I come up there?”, he asks, already looking around for a way to get up without having to go inside the house again. 
“Stairs at the back.”, you tell him, pointing to the back of the house with your thumb and he runs away. 
Soon the cowboy was there to see you, tipping his hat to you in greeting. “I was hoping to run into you.”
“I’m sure you were.”, you tease. “What’ve you been up to?”
“Can’t go long without seeing me, can you?”, he teases back, stepping closer to you, backing you up to the wall.
“Nothing like that.”, you say, holding your breath as the tall man towers over you. He reaches a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You’re so pretty.”, he mumbles. You blush under his gaze, keeping a hand on his chest. You both knew you liked each other and that the other knew, by now.
 “Harry. You realize what can happen if my father finds out?”
“He won’t find out.”, Harry says. “And if he does, what's the worst that can happen? I’ll lose my job. No problem, I can go work anywhere else. Cowboys are in high demand, you know.”
You shake your head, grinning as he smoothes a thumb over your cheek. “Besides, what’s life without a little thrill? I know you enjoy it. I’ve seen the way you look at me like you want me to fuck-”
You bring your other hand up to cup his mouth. “Harry!”, you whisper-shout..
He snickers. When you lower your hand he says, “Love it when you look so blushy and flustered for me.”
You hear your dad telling your mom he’s going to go out, and Harry has to move his truck or he’ll see that he’s still here. “I’ll see you tomorrow, your mum invited me over for a barbeque.”, he tells you before he goes.
You nod, and he bends down to press his lips against your cheek. Even that light touch sent shivers through your nerves, shivers that made your whole body tremble. “S-See you, Harry.”, you managed to say.
“See ya, pretty girl.” He winks and tips his hat to you again, before taking off. 
______________________________________________
Your house was filled with a lot of people. Your mom and dad love to host a barbeque party every now and then. You sat exactly opposite from Harry, both talking to family and friends, but stealing glances at each other when you had the chance.
You wore a cute yellow summer dress, and Harry wore jeans and a red shirt, leaving the top buttons open, with a bandana around his neck.
Finally, when Harry was free, he caught your eyes, giving you a look. He nods his head to the door, telling you he’ll be waiting outside. He leaves, and soon you excuse yourself to leave too.
You looked around for him, and a hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you into a closet. “Finally. God you look so amazing in this dress.”
“Thanks! I like your look too-”
He presses your hand to his crotch. “Feel that? That’s what you did to me.” He was so hard. That must have been painful. 
You were wet too. You wanted him to stuff that bandana into your mouth to keep you quiet while he fucked you. The thought made you clench your thighs together, and Harry cups your cheek, pulling you closer to him with his arm wrapped around your waist. “Can I kiss you, y/n?”
“Please.”, you whisper, and he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. Your eyes close as his lips mold against yours and you respond with enthusiasm, tilting your head back as he leans in, devouring your lips. You rub your hand against his crotch, making him groan. “Shit. I’ll come in my pants if you do that.”
You started to go down on your knees, but he stopped you. “It’s too dusty. Let’s go to my truck.”
“Your truck? What if someone sees?”
You were giggling with the thrill of it as he grabs your hand and leads you out without anyone seeing. “We’ll be careful. But I can’t wait any longer, I need you.”
You got into the back of his trunk and you made him sit, while you laid on your stomach, keeping a hand on his thigh. You didn’t really have space to sit down. Harry dropped his pants and you took his dick out of his boxers, mouth watering at the sight. 
“You’re so big.”, you muttered, boosting his ego. “Thanks love, do you wanna take me in your mouth? Give it a taste?”
“Uh huh.” You wanted nothing more. You lowered your head, taking just the tip into your mouth. Harry groans at the sight, he could also see your ass this way and he flips up your dress so he can grab a handful of your ass, making you moan. You slowly take him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, one of your hands fondling with his balls. 
“Bloody hell, that f-feels so fucking good.” Harry throws his head back, his other hand bunching up your hair into a makeshift ponytail so he could hold it away from your face. “T-That’s it, baby, just like that. You know how many times I’ve dreamed about having those pretty lips wrapped around my dick?”
You take him deeper, eyes watering as his hips thrust upwards a little, making you gag. “Shit, sorry.”, he says.
 “It’s okay, I like it.”, you whisper, stroking him with your hand as you lift your head up to look at him. “Are you gonna cum, Harry? Fill my mouth up?”
“Fuck, yeah. You’re gonna take it all like a good girl, aren’t you?”, he moans as you put your mouth on him again, and he pushes your head down, your nose burying into his mound as his dick hits the back of your throat. You feel him getting close and Harry tugs you off by your hair, shooting his cum into your open mouth. You swallow it all, humming and he pulls you up to sit on his lap, bringing your lips to his again, tasting him on your tongue. 
He slips his hands under your dress, squeezing each of your breasts. You start grinding on his thigh, rubbing yourself against him. “Harry..”
“Don’t worry, baby girl, I’ll take care of you.” He brings one hand to where you most need him, pressing his fingers over your throbbing clit making you gasp. “You’re so fucking perfect, I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you.”
“Yeah? Do whatever you want to do to me, Harry.” He pulls your panties to a side, his fingers running over your folds. “You’re so wet, darling. Is this all for me?”
“Yes.” You moan as he slips two fingers inside your pussy. “I can’t wait to put my dick inside this pretty hole. That feel good, baby? Want another finger?”
“Yes, yes, please..” Harry gives you another finger, curling them to stroke against your g-spot, making you grip onto his shoulders and writhe on his lap. “I’ll give you whatever you want, sweetheart. I’m so fucking gone for you.”
You were cumming on his fingers soon, moaning loudly. “Yes, baby, give it to me. You sound so sweet, you know? Wonder how you’ll sound when I’m inside of you.” Harry gets you through your orgasm, continuing to move his fingers in and out of you until you smile up at him, cheeks flushed. 
He grins, bringing his fingers to his lips, licking his fingers clean. “You taste so sweet.”
“I need you inside me.”, you kiss his jawline. You couldn’t wait to feel full from his dick. 
Harry nods, and lifts you up so he can stand up. “Legs up on the seat, want you on all fours.”
You do as he said, getting on the seat and pushing your ass out. Harry groans, spreading your cheeks. “Never seen such a pretty pussy before.”
“Quick, Harry, we have to go back inside!” As much as you didn’t want to, you had to.
“Right. I’ll just have to save eating you out for later, eh?” He had to bend his head to stop it from banging against the top of the trunk, and he kept one knee on the seat for support as he brought his dick to your entrance.
You push back against him as he enters you, and you rest your head against the seat, moaning. “Oh fuck..”
“You’re so tight, god, so perfect.” He pushes his full length inside you and lets you adjust for a minute. “Fuck me Harry..” 
“Gonna fuck you so good, sweet girl.”, he promises, pulling his hips back and thrusting it forward making you squeal. He went in so deep, hitting all the right spots. You were trying not to scream. 
“Shit there’s someone outside.”, Harry says, but his movements didn’t slow down. 
“W-What?”, you were out of it, you didn’t care at this point. You wanted to cum. He took his bandana off of his neck and brought it to your mouth. “Here. Hate to muffle your pretty moans, sweetheart, but we don’t wanna get caught now, do we?”
You moan into the cloth as his fingers push it into your mouth just like you imagined, but this was hotter. “So warm and tight, best fucking pussy. I’m not gonna last much longer.”
Harry goes faster, holding onto your hips. “You gonna cum for me sweetheart?” You nod, and it only takes you a few more seconds to reach our high. Harry pulls out when you’ve finished, stroking himself as you turn around. He takes the bandana out of your mouth and holds your jaw open with one hand, the other shooting his cum down your throat again.
You swallow it all down, and Harry collapses next to you on the seat. You both catch your breath, and smile lazily at each other. “That was good.”, you say.
“Never thought I’d take a sexy girl in the back of my trunk.”, he said, and you roll your eyes. Harry reaches to grab a cloth from the front and wipes around your mouth and neck. You fix your panties, dress, and your hair. 
“Do I look okay?”, you ask him.
He smiles, cupping your cheek for a quick kiss. “Perfect.”
You both get out of the trunk, and he mutters in your ear, “I’ll top this off next time, promise.”
“Next time huh?”, you say and he smirks, playfully smacking your ass. “I know how well you can ride horses, maybe you can show me how you ride something else.”
You gasp, turning around to hit his chest as you were now walking towards people and they couldn’t hear what was coming out of his dirty mouth. “Easy there, cowboy.”
______________________________________________
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First off your writing is incredible. I was in literal tears reading your Daryl fic.
But I thought I'd send in a request, a jealous Daryl. Doesnt have to be established reader, pretty easy. I just like it when he's all riled up. 😂 Please and thank you
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Jealousy
Summary: He could have just told her, couldn’t he? That would have been simple. He’d had to yell at her instead though, because Daryl can never do things the usual way round. Hand down her skirt and about to run away for the second time really was more his style.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Nervous!Daryl. Angst. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Alexandria era. Vague, very short smut.
A/N: Thank you for this request and the beautiful compliment! I may have rushed the editing a little so if you notice any errors please tell me!
It’s not that she’s been avoiding him, it’s the complete opposite, she’s absolutely, inarguably, infuriatingly normal. He’s clawing at the walls of his own brain and she’s acting as if everything is fine. Maybe it is, he thinks, maybe she’s over it, maybe she’s been over it since the second he screwed it up and he’s the only one still hanging on to whatever it was in the first place. He can’t even claim he’s hanging on to much, they’d barely even kissed and it was months ago, but he hadn’t exactly been good at this kind of thing before the world threw a damn apocalypse into the mix.
He’d loved her since the moment he’d heard her laugh. He’d found her in a cabin in the woods on a run, just after Woodbury had fallen, back when the prison was still strong. He didn’t want to bring her back, one more mouth to feed, one more person to keep an eye on, but she’d saved him from a rogue walker he hadn’t seen coming, shrugged like it was nothing, like she’d have done it for anyone. She’d offered him food and water, a rundown but relatively safe place to lay low for a few hours, she was kind. The words were tumbling from his lips before he’d really thought about them.
He’d avoided her for a good while, despite her efforts to befriend him, he’d lost so much already he didn’t want to let her in. But then he’d said something sarcastic, something snappy and prissy and she’d laughed; an honest to goodness belly laugh that had her head throwing back and him smiling from the side of his mouth despite himself and something deep in his chest felt warm.
So he’d loved her, quietly and from a distance. Safe. Until she’d kissed him.
He watches as she laughs, the same laugh, big and warm and real. It’s not aimed at him, and he hates it. After he’d run away from her, he worried he wouldn’t hear it again, but he’d been wrong, and this was worse. He taps his fingers against his thigh, trying to keep a scowl from his face. Failing. He thinks steam would come out of his ears if it were within the realm of possibility.
He’s always too late. Always takes too long to get comfortable. Always spends so long waiting that he misses out on the thing he wanted, and she’s not a thing but his blood is fucking boiling. At the man she’s talking to, at himself, at her too if he’s a little honest.
The man, who’s name he doesn’t know and now never wants to, is handsome. If you’re into that suburban, well groomed, boring kind of thing. He has a punchable face. Daryl is not allowed to punch people unless its necessary anymore, Rick has told him that explicitly but surely flirting with his…flirting with the woman he’s in lo…flirting with her makes it necessary.
He can’t stand the thought that he might not be the last person to kiss her lips. He can’t stand looking any longer, but he doesn’t mean for his knife to clatter loudly on the floor as he tries to flee. He doesn’t dare turn around, but he’d be able to tell she was looking at him even in pitch black. Knows she’s watching the solid, tense set of his shoulders as he retreats.
-
She startles at the sight of him sitting on her porch, quickly schooling her face into the nonchalance she’s been practicing around him since they arrived. It was easy enough, on the road, to pretend he hadn’t hurt her. They were so busy trying to survive, so busy being busy that she could avoid an inevitable conversation where she’d had to apologise for getting their wires crossed.
But since they’ve been behind the walls of Alexandria? She can’t stop herself from searching him out, finding excuses to be near him, trying to act like they were back at the prison. Friends. She can do friends. She has been absolutely nailing being just friends, as long as she can ignore the tightness in her chest and the way she feels like she’s going to cry every time she walks away. Friends.
She flips the knife in her hand with ease, shielding his hand from the blade as she passes it back to him. He nods his thanks as he squints up at her.
“What crawled up your ass tonight?” She asks, but there’s a teasing smile on her face as leans against the railing to her house. The porch light is dim, warm golden yellow illuminating them. Daryl hasn’t been one for a lot of words in a long time, but he intends to bat the question away, distract her with something funny, something acerbic but good natured. Friendly, he can do friendly. He can’t, could barely do it on the road after everything happened. Now though, when she’s showered and brushed her hair and dressed up, lit up by a damn porch light? He doesn’t stand a chance.
“Dun’ kiss him”
“What the fuck?”
Fists clenching to calm himself down, unfurling them when he feels more grounded, he looks up at her again, daring to lock his eyes onto hers.
“Ya like him…tha’ guy?” He tries to keep his voice steady, hopes she doesn’t understand he’s begging her to say no, begging for her to give him a chance, but how many can one man have?
“Why are you asking me this?”
“Dun’ kiss him, please” He asks again, with a shake of his head, knocking his hair in front of his eyes as the ground in front of him becomes the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. She sighs quietly, but the sound reverberates in his brain, he can hear the disappointment that weighs it down, the disappointment he’d hoped to avoid by avoiding talking about this thing between them entirely.
“I’m not having this conversation with you on the porch” She pushes herself off the railing, turning to open the front floor. She means for him to leave but he follows her inside, tapping his fingers nervously against his thigh as he closes the door behind him. Every part of his body is telling him to run.
“I know I ain’t got no right t’ ask”
“No, you don’t. Why are you asking?”
“‘cause I can’t stand it”
“Why do you care?”
“’cause ya shouldn’t be wit’ him!”
“Who should I be with then, Daryl? Huh?” He doesn’t respond, not that she expects him to, head hanging low toward the ground “You have no answer, because it’s not you, is it? You didn’t want me!”
“I didn’t-what?”
He’d tried to make it obvious, had given her extra food, had nudged her shoulder with his, had talked to her more than anyone else. But she’d tried to kiss him and he’d fled, had retreated safely back into the comfort of his walls. Then he’d come back. He’d kissed her and again he’d fled. Daryl Dixon is the human embodiment of emotional whiplash. He knows he’s not easy, but he thought at least he’d been clear, he can’t imagine the way he looks at her has ever been subtle.
“I did want ya”
Her mind thinks over the weeks he’s been standoffish, the time he’s spent avoiding her touches, thinks back the first week they’d arrived here and he’s barely spoken a word, all the while watching her with an intensity that would have been uncomfortable if she hadn’t wanted his attention.
“I can’t do this, you can’t play with my head because you’re jealous all of a sudden”
“Ain’t jealous” He argues, knowing they both know he’s lying, but he still, even now, won’t let himself be vulnerable. “I know I fucked up, ‘kay? I know, but I’m ‘ere now!”
He snarls, frustrated and bordering on vicious, practically diving towards her as his hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise. He smashes his lips against hers, unpractised and clumsily before his brain catches up and he goes to pull away. Her response is so fast he doesn’t get a chance, dragging him back in as his brain shuts down.
The kiss is hard, angry and fast, all hip bones pressing into hip bones and teeth clacking against teeth. It’s not the romantic, affectionate start she was hoping for. It’s not the gentle steady and slow he was. She’s angry, he is too she can feel it in his body as he presses it against her.
The room spins, air thick and foggy with months’ worth of frustration, tension so thick it could be cut, it’s only when he swallows a heady, deep moan from her that he realises he needs more. Tongue sweeping into her mouth he grips the fabric of her skirt in his hand, bunching it up until he can reach an insistent, rough calloused hand inside her underwear, ripping his lips away from hers to heave a breath in. She’s soaked, dripping around his fingers and he’ll have time to be absolutely fucking floored by that when he recounts this later. His forehead sticks to hers as she moans.
It’s not that he hasn’t had trysts before, it’s just that they were short and unimportant, he’s barely been confident enough to use his hands. He wants to touch her in the right way, wants to know what he’s doing but she’s snaking a hand into his trousers and wrapping her fingers around his cock so thinking isn’t the top of his priorities right now.
It feels incredible, and in the vague recess of his brain he thinks he should have done this at a pace he'd be more comfortable with but he hasn’t done this in years, and barely successfully then so its not long before he comes all over her hand, whining as his head dips down to pant heavily against her collarbone. His fingers still, embarrassed and suddenly full of crippling self-doubt. She knows he’s going to remove them about a second before he does.
A thud echoes through the suddenly too big room as she tips her head back to hit the wall behind her.
“You leaving?” She lets out an incredulous laugh, hurt, betrayed, surprisingly unsurprised. The zip on his trousers seems louder than anything she’d yelled at him less than an hour before. It feels like an eternity before she lowers her head to look at him, doesn’t bother to mask the absolute disappointment on her features.
“I-uh-yeah-I”
She can practically see the walls slamming back up around him, the walls she’s been watching for weeks. A tear rolls down her cheek as he turns away from her, heading towards the front door.
“You don’t get another chance with me, Daryl” the finality in her voice makes him pause, hand on the doorknob. She sighs, hating that she’s about to give him the grace she is “You need to make up your mind, because I’m not waiting for you, not again. If you’re not certain by tomorrow you need to leave me alone”
The shaky nod from him is so small its almost imperceptible.
-
She’s not expecting the knock on her door as soon as the sun is up, really she isn’t. The whole night has been sleepless and filled to the brim with dread, knowing for sure that he wants her but fully believing he will never be able to let himself have her. She isn’t unaware of Daryl’s tendency to self-destruct. Maybe this is it, she thinks, maybe he values her enough as a friend if nothing else, to tell her face to face, but he’d never been able to before and the tiniest hint of hope lights her up as she treads carefully down the stairs.
Daryl stands there with a small, nervous but hopeful smile on his face. The hope hasn’t missed him, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, so out of his depth he might as well be drowning, but the knowledge that she wants this too means he’d rather fumble his way through this with her than do well without her.
“I’m a’ idiot”
“Yes you are” She laughs, setting him alight on the inside. The laugh that started al of this, almost. Doubt underneath her voice is the thing that finally settles it for him, makes him pull her towards him, gentle this time, the way he’d wanted. He’ll never let her doubt his feelings even when he doubts himself.
“I always wanted ya” he murmurs against her lips before closing the distance.
“You’re not going to run away again?”
“Ain’t runnin’, ain’t ever runnin’ again”
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hitomisuzuya · 1 day
Note
Omg it's almost ur bday
Can I request: Scara Wanderer and Kabukimono smut fic where they get really horny having f!reader take them all at once no breaks🫢 She gets the best aftercare tho👌
As always feel free to delete this🫶🫶🫶
Foursome. Scaramouche x fem!reader Wanderer x fem!reader. Kunikuzushi (Kabukimono) x fem!reader. Smut. Face sitting. Nipple play. Multiple creampie pie. Blowjob/spit roasting. Degradation. Praise. Aftercare❤️
My face while writing this 😳
It was like all three of them went into heat at the same time. You weren't thinking just how in over your head you may have been, though. It was hard for you to even think riding Wanderer's tongue with your thighs squeezed around his head, his tongue lapping at your pussy. Even harder still with Scaramouche's and Kunikuzushi's tongues circling and sucking your nipples.
Wanderer's tongue practically massaged your clit, moaning every time you grinded your throbbing pussy a little firmer on his tongue for more friction. Kunikuzushi's arm looped around your back as you arched it, holding your chest against his mouth.
It felt like all three of them were trying to devour you at once.
High pitched moans that you couldn't possibly hold back tore shamelessly from your throat as Wanderer latched his lips onto your clit. Your thighs shook as you grinded on his mouth.
Kunikuzushi shivered in pleasure, groaning into your breast as he sucked on your nipple. His other hand had long ago dipped down to his almost painfully hard cock, fisting it to the sounds of your moans. "I think she's going to cum," He moaned excitedly, directing his eyes up to watch you twitch.
The harder your nipple got on Scaramouche's tongue, the more he swirled his tongue and prodded it before he sucked. "You are right she is. She is moaning like a starved slut," He released your nipple with a soft pop, and unceremoniously took you off of Wanderer's mouth.
Wanderer may have been greedy, but Scaramouche was greedier. He wanted to be first to cum inside of you. The first to make you cum. He glared at Wanderer when he tried to put your pussy back on his mouth.
They always seemed to be in some sort of competition with each other. And you were too fucked out to protest about being manhandled. It only made you more wetter.
Scaramouche put you on your hands and knees, smacking your ass before trapping your arms behind your back. Using your wrists as leverage, he pushed his cock inside your sopping cunt with a gluttoral groan.
You cried out, squirming in his grasp as his cock head nudged firmly into your sweet spot. "Take it like the good slut you are," Scaramouche moaned, his hips smacking into yours as he pumped his cock inside of you.
"I'll be a good girl, I promise," You whimpered, helpless in his grasp. You felt every rub and pulse of his cock, your body quaking as your walls tightened from his degrading praise.
Kunikuzushi was right there to anchor your head, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he pushed his leaking cock head against your lips. "Open up like a good girl," He smiled down at you.
Your cheeks flushed, your tongue sweeping out to curl around the tip and playing with your tongue in his precum. Kunikuzushi breathed a soft whimper as pushed his cock into your mouth. He couldn't help but set a somewhat careless pace, bobbing your head on his cock.
Your tongue lapped and flattened on his cock as you sucked, drool pooling from your mouth as you muffled moans on it. "Feels..so..good.." Kunikuzushi moaned, his thumbs skimming appreciatively over your cheeks. Being as sensitive as he was, it didn't take long for his cock to pulse cum into your mouth.
Wanderer's fingers found your clit, pinching and rubbing. "Now be a good girl and squirt on Scaramouche's cock," He purred in your ear, his tongue licking the shell.
Being called a good girl made you oh so weak. Your body was limp in Scaramouche's grasp, Kunikuzushi anchoring your head so delicately as he chased his high. You sucked him through his orgasm, your body quaking as Scaramouche fucked into you from behind.
He wasn't going to settle for anything less than you squirting a mess on his cock. "Our pretty slut is so fucking tight," Scaramouche moaned, his grip tightening on your wrists. "I'm cumming," He mumbled drunkenly, his pulsing cock strongly as cum ribboned inside you.
Wanderer delivered a decisive pinch to your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly massaging and rubbing. Kunikuzushi took his cock out of your mouth just in time for you to moan loudly before your orgasm rocketed through you.
Scaramouche hummed in condescending approval as you made a mess on his cock. He chased his high for a few long moments, enjoying the way your pussy squeezed sensitive on his cock before he pulled out and let go of your wrists.
You collapsed onto the bed, panting softly. Wanderer was quick to roll you over and spread your legs. He didn't want to trap your wrists above your head, he wanted to feel your fingernails scratching at his skin while he made you cum again.
He fingered Scaramouche's cum back inside of you before grinding his head of his cock against your clit. Your hips jerked up to grind against his cock. "Needy slut," Wanderer taunted, his voice tinged with delighted bliss. Scaramouche had made extra mess out of your pussy. It was absolutely soaking onto his cock.
You hadn't even come down from your first orgasm yet. You saw stars as Wanderer's cock stretched you apart and nudged into your sweet spot. "Good girl..sweet girl," He moaned as your fingernails clawed into his arms. He took your hands off his arm, intertwining your fingers through his and pinning your hands on the bed next to your head.
His head dropped into your neck, squeezing your hands as he nuzzled into your neck. He moaned in your ear, his teeth nipping at your neck. He had ached for you all day just as strongly as Scaramouche and Kunikuzushi had.
You couldn't help it. You were cumming suddenly, writhing in bliss as more of your cum soaked onto his cock. Wanderer chuckled in your ear, "I am fucking you that good, huh?" His body shuddered as his cum spilled inside of you.
You were exhausted by the time Wanderer felt satisfied enough to pull out. Kunikuzushi was already moving some pillows around your body, knowing you would be sore from taking them one right after the other.
Scaramouche gently rolled you over onto your stomach and set his fingers to work on your back. They had to take care of their durable good girl. As for Wanderer, he went and made you some warm soup to drink. Your throat had be just as sore as your body, after all.
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itneverendshere · 2 days
Note
the way i can see rafe rolling his eyes when he hears you yell across a party for jj to knock it off in picking a fight, and laughs at jj when he listens to you, and is like an embarrassed little dog.
a perfect world where rafe realizes he and jj are the same person in different fonts <3 thank you for the request, i love jj in this lmao😭🩵
 you say you got it & you have to let me see - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
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The annual boneyard party was in full swing, and like clockwork, someone was trying to start shit.
You stood close to Rafe, your hand loosely gripping a beer bottle as you watched the mess unfold in front of you. "JJ!" you called out, voice loud and clear across the sand. "Knock it off!"
Rafe felt the corner of his mouth twitch, suppressing a grin. It wasn't even surprising anymore.
JJ Maybank—still the same hot-headed teen who grew up a few doors down from you—was in some guy's face, already half a second away from getting clocked.
His first instinct was to roll his eyes. Every year. Every damn year, JJ managed to start up some bullshit. Rafe glanced down at you, saw how your brow furrowed in annoyance, and the urge to laugh took over instead.
It was kind of funny, watching JJ go from ready to swing to immediately backing off the second you opened your mouth.
JJ turned like a kid caught stealing cookies from the jar, hands half-raised in defense as he looked at you with wide eyes. “Chill! I wasn’t even—”
"Yeah, yeah," you cut him off, pointing your beer in his direction. "Save it. Just walk away, okay?"
And, of course, he did.
Like a scolded puppy, he muttered something under his breath before shoving his hands into his pockets and trudging off. Rafe snorted, shaking his head. "Little brother still listens to you, huh?"
You shot him a look, half-smiling. "Someone's gotta keep him in line."
"Yeah, well," Rafe glanced at JJ’s retreating figure, still chuckling under his breath, "It's funny watching him tuck his tail between his legs every time."
He wasn’t usually one for parties like this anymore—too many reminders of who he used to be—but being here with you made it easier. You grounded him. Three years of dating, living together, dealing with life’s shitstorms, and somehow you still managed to make everything feel lighter.
You narrowed your eyes, “Don’t think you’re so different from him Mr. No one talks down to my girlfriend.”
Rafe’s grin widened, and he took a long sip from his beer, savoring the burn of the carbonation on his throat. You had him there. Not that he was gonna admit it. “That was different,” he drawled, flashing you a smirk.
“Uh-huh,” you said, arching an eyebrow. “How, exactly?”
He scratched at his jaw, the familiar prickle of stubble reminding him he hadn’t shaved in a few days. “I mean, I didn’t throw a punch every time. Just made it clear no one’s gonna talk shit.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips twitched. “You’re lucky I love you, Cameron.”
Rafe’s heart did that stupid thing it always did when you said stuff like that, even after all these years. He could play it cool all he wanted, but you knew how to get to him. Always did.
“Yeah, I am,” he said, stepping a little closer, his body blocking the cool breeze coming off the ocean. He could smell the saltwater and smoke, but all he cared about was the warmth radiating from you. He took a swig of his beer, watching the flames from the bonfire dance against the night sky. “How many more times you think you’ll have to pull him out of a fight tonight?”
You tilted your head, thinking for a second before shrugging. “Depends on how much he’s had to drink.”
JJ was like a golden retriever sometimes—quick to rile up, but just as quick to bounce back. Rafe watched him for a second, the way he moved through the crowd, all ego and no direction. It reminded him of himself when he was younger. He chuckled, shaking his head.
“He’s gonna make it hard for me to take him seriously if you keep saving his ass.”
"Like you’ve ever taken him seriously," you shot back, giving him a playful shove.
True. Rafe couldn’t remember a single time in the last few years where JJ had been more than an annoyance. 
"God, it’s like he’s still twelve or something," you muttered, shaking your head. You took a step closer to him, your arm brushing his. The firelight flickered in your eyes, making you look impossibly warm.
The kind of warmth Rafe had gotten used to over the years. The kind he was lucky to have. He turned to face you, an easy smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, but at least it’s entertaining.”
You smirked. "For now. I give it an hour before he’s passed out in the sand."
He tilted his head, giving you a mock-serious look. “You wanna place a bet on that?”
You squinted at him like you were actually considering it. “What’s the wager?”
Rafe leaned in, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Winner gets to pick what we do tomorrow.”
You raised an eyebrow, your smirk deepening. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool but knowing exactly what he’d want if he won. He could feel the stupid velvet box burning in his pocket. He carried it everywhere, hoping he’d man up and do it already. He couldn’t do it now—not here, not like this, not with JJ stumbling around somewhere in the background and the sound of half-drunk partygoers laughing around you.
“I don’t know. Maybe spend the day out on the boat. Just the two of us.”
“Alright, deal,” you said, holding out your hand for him to shake, “Sounds nice.”
Nice wasn’t even close to what he had in mind.
He took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulled you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. You let out a small laugh, leaning into him. The beer bottle in your hand dangled lazily at your side. You leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
Rafe let out a breathy chuckle, turning his head to capture your lips with his. The kiss was slow, lazy even, like there wasn’t a party around you. “Still think I’m cute, huh?” 
You gave him a look, lips curving into a shit-eating-grin. “When you’re not acting like JJ.”
He groaned, tipping his head back dramatically. “Don’t compare me to that fuckin' idiot.”
You just grinned, pulling away slightly, though your hand stayed on his chest. “Relax. You’re cuter, baby.”
“Damn right,” Rafe muttered, tugging you back to him. He liked having you close like this—reminded him that no matter how much shit had changed, some things stayed solid. You. Him. This.
He kissed the top of your head, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair, and let out a contented sigh. 
JJ had somehow found another beer, and as Rafe glanced his way, he saw Kie giving him a hard time, probably for almost getting into it earlier.
“You think they’ll ever figure it out?” you asked, following Rafe’s gaze.
“Who, JJ and Kie?” He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. “Maybe. Probably not, though. They’re both too stubborn.”
You hummed in agreement, resting your head against his shoulder. “Sounds familiar.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, we turned out alright, didn’t we?”
You smiled up at him, the firelight dancing in your eyes. “Yeah, we did.”
Just as you and Rafe were starting to get lost in your own little world, a sudden shout cut through the noise of the party. Rafe glanced up and spotted JJ again, this time charging toward some guy who was standing way too close to Kie. 
Oh for fuck’s sake.
JJ's posture tense, fists clenched at his sides, and his voice already rising in that familiar way that screamed trouble. "Hey, man, back the fuck off!" He growled, pushing the guy away from Kie. The dude barely had time to react before JJ was already up in his face, looking like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.
"Jesus fucking Christ," Rafe muttered under his breath.
Without a second thought, he downed the last of his beer and started striding toward fight. You followed, a little concerned but mostly impressed by how quickly he handled it. He was always the one who kept things calm now—so different from his hot-headed younger days.
“Maybank!” Rafe’s voice boomed across the beach, and you could hear the change in tone.
He was done playing around.
JJ, too focused on trying to defend Kie’s honor, didn’t even hear him. Rafe didn’t hesitate. He grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the guy before anything could escalate further.
The younguer blonde whipped around, ready to argue, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Rafe. “Dude, I—”
“Start walking,” He hauled him a few feet away, practically dragging him while the other guy quickly disappeared into the crowd.
You couldn’t help but watch the way Rafe took control of the situation, handling JJ like a dad trying to wrangle a rowdy teenager. You could see the way he deflated in response. He’d grown to respect Rafe too much to keep pushing.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Rafe said, his grip still tight on JJ’s shirt. “You’re gonna get yourself knocked out one of these days if you don’t stop acting like you need to throw hands over every little thing.” JJ scowled but didn’t say anything, and Rafe shook his head, letting him go. “Seriously, Kie can handle herself. And if she needs backup, that’s what we are for—not you getting your ass handed to you every time some guy breathes in her direction.”
JJ kicked at the sand, muttering something under his breath, but he knew better than to argue. Rafe’s voice softened a little, seeing JJ’s shoulders slump. “Look, I get it. But not like this. Not here.”
He nodded once, reluctantly, and Rafe gave him a rough pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. He caught your eye, and you felt the pride bloom in your chest. The way he handled himself, the way he diffused situations—it wasn’t just about being strong anymore, it was about knowing how to lead, how to take care of the people he loved. And, honestly? It was a turn-on.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered on him as he came back over to you. He looked so composed, so solid, and that arm of his, the way he pulled JJ back without breaking a sweat—it had your mind going places. Rafe raised an eyebrow at you, a playful smirk on his lips.
“What?” he asked, already knowing you were checking him out.
You stepped closer, trailing your fingers up his arm, feeling the strength in the way his muscles flexed beneath your touch.
“Nothing,” you murmured, biting your lip as your eyes met his. “Just proud of you.”
Rafe chuckled, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you against him. “Proud, huh?”
“Mhm,” you whispered, pressing yourself closer, feeling the warmth of his body. “It’s kinda hot.”
“That what does it for you now? Me playing babysitter?”
You laughed softly, your hand still resting on his arm, fingers trailing along his bicep. “Not just that. The way you handled it. You’re just—”
Rafe’s hand slid down your back. “Just what?” he asked, his breath hot against your neck.
You bit your lip, feeling your heart pick up speed. "Strong.” You smirked, letting your hand slide lower, down the curve of his chest. “Kinda makes me wanna—”
He cut you off with a kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a kind of slow intensity that had you melting into him. His hand gripped you tighter, pulling you even closer, because he could never have enough of you. 
When he pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, both of you a little breathless, he smirked down at you. “You keep talkin' like that, we might need to leave this party a little early.”
You grinned up at him, your arms wrapping around his neck. “Might not be the worst idea,” you teased, your voice low. “Think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
Rafe chuckled, his lips brushing against your forehead before he pulled away just enough to glance over his shoulder, making sure JJ wasn’t about to start up more trouble.
When he saw everything was calm, he turned back to you, “Let’s get outta here, baby.”
You didn’t need to be told twice.
He pulled you in close as you reached the car, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, making your head spin all over again.
"You're somethin' else, you know that?" he whispered against your lips, his hands sliding up your back, fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
"Get in the car, Cameron.”
190 notes · View notes
heavensoutofsight · 3 days
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i want you to see (how you look to me) - billie eilish
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synopsis: you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, billie, and you're unsure if she feels the same, choosing to keep your distance -- until one fateful night in the studio where your feelings finally boil over.
word count: 3506
tags/warnings: angst if you squint, mostly fluffy, love confessions, mutual pining, best friends to lovers
author's note: GIFT FOR YOUUUU. sorry i took so long to write something LMAO. this was very quickly proofread at 3am. any mistakes are mine! hope you enjoy :) comments/tags/reblogs are always appreciated! (credit for the divider goes to @/cafekitsune)
In the dim light of your bedroom, you scrolled through your phone's photo gallery, feeling your heart constrict at all of the pictures you had with Billie. Some were taken directly after shows, some after particular interviews, and some during a random outing the two of you decided to go on. In many of the pictures, Billie left little to no personal space, her face squished against yours and her arms completely wrapped around you. You missed the times when Billie could touch you like that and it didn't set you aflame – when it didn't make your head spin as you took in her perfume and felt her soft body underneath your hands, her ocean eyes bright and full of mirth as she looked at you.
There was no denying that there was some distance between you and Billie now. And you hated it.
You weren't sure when it happened; when you first started feeling those stupid butterflies around her. When even just the sound of her laugh made your heart soar. If somebody asked you to pinpoint the exact moment you started falling in love with your best friend, you wouldn't be able to – it was all so fuzzy and frankly you didn't think it could be attributed to a single moment anyway. It might have been that one night she slept over and you fell asleep with your head on her shoulder as she sung you to sleep. Or the time the two of you were at her place, making some vegan recipe together, playing loud music and using spoons and forks as microphones, performing for no one but yourselves and giggling profusely at Billie giving you the performance of a lifetime in the comfort of her own kitchen. Or perhaps it was the time she comforted you all night after a breakup, holding you closely and never letting go, her ring-clad hands petting you gently, as if you were made of glass.
Your heart had always belonged to Billie, long before you truly understood your feelings. And now that they were more apparent to you than ever, you simply didn't know what to do.
You knew Bille loved you just as much as you loved her. But did she feel the same fire within her whenever your hands brushed together? Did she feel those same butterflies whenever you laughed at a dumb joke or gave her a bright smile? You couldn't bear even just the thought of pouring your heart out to this woman only for the feeling to not be mutual.
You glanced at the time on your phone screen. It was late. You should've been sleeping but you were just riddled with anxiety instead, too busy imagining up a million hypothetical situations in which you would dramatically confess your feelings. You wish you had the same confidence you had in your daydreams in your real life.
You sighed, scrolling to the very last thing you had in your gallery. It was the most recent video of you and Billie, taken only a few weeks ago. The both of you were in Billie's living room. You couldn't stop the smile that tugged the corners of your lips when Billie came into view as you secretly recorded her in all of her casual glory. Her long hair was down, falling in front of her face in a way that made the breath leave your lungs. She was in an oversized t-shirt, wearing a pair of simple black shorts. She was very focused; her lips forming a pout as she stared down at the notebook in her lap, a pencil in hand.
What started as a small grin evolved into a wide, lovesick smile as you watched Billie look at the camera in the video, finally having caught on to you filming her.
“What the hell are you doing?” Past Billie had asked, a smirk slowly appearing on her face as she eyed you suspiciously. You heard yourself giggle, suddenly aiming your phone camera away from her and poorly trying to appear innocent.
“Nothing.”
“You are a fucking liar,” Billie said playfully, barely able to get the words out through her own series of chuckles.
“I'm not!” Past you exclaimed. Billie just shook her head, scrambling over to you to grab your phone, the both of you erupting into whole-hearted laughter. The last blurry frame of the video was of Billie's smiling face looking at you. You admired her perfect teeth and lips, the shape of her nose, and those damn ocean eyes, far more beautiful than any body of water you'd ever seen.
That familiar fluttery feeling returned to your stomach again.
You shut off your phone and quickly placed it on your bedside table. You rolled over in your bed, still thinking of that video. You were beginning to feel something in your chest. Your heart felt like it was constricting again. You tried to ignore, instead attempting to shift the focus of your thoughts on the weight of your blanket encompassing you, or the gentle sound of whatever random sitcom you had playing on your television for background noise; but your mind always wandered back to Billie. Her smile, her laugh, her touch.
You were deeply, madly in love with Billie Eilish, your best friend, and it was starting to drive you insane. This was not a crush, no, it was more than a crush – it was like a craving, a desire so strong it entirely consumed you.
You were so fucked.
You closed your eyes, desperately just wanting to sleep. You weren't even necessarily physically tired. Just tired of your brain going a thousand miles a minute and constantly thinking about her.
After a few long minutes of battling complete and utter restlessness, you had mentally exhausted yourself enough to the point where you were finally starting to drift off – until you heard your phone go off, which abruptly pulled you away from the brink of sleep. Normally, you would ignore it, but you recognized that notification tone. It was a tone that you specifically gave to Billie, and whenever she texted, you had to answer.
You opened your messaging app, squinting a bit at the brightness of your screen in the dark room.
heyyyy u up
i'm in the studio by myself
feeling lonely as hell
You heard the messages in her voice. You found yourself smiling again, imagining her in her little swivel chair, maybe playing a melody on the piano or strumming a tune on the guitar.
Without wasting a second, you replied.
you: of course i'm up
you: god you can't do anything without me huh?
You chuckled to yourself, watching those three little dots disappear and reappear.
billie: you are absolutely correct
billie: you just really inspire me what can i say
billie: i'm not even joking you really do
You ignored the warmth in your cheeks at her words, opting to play around some more.
you: ew
you: cheesy ass
To that, Billie replied almost instantly:
billie: shut your mouth
billie: ARE YOU COMINGGG
bille: seriously tho i know it's late but we haven't hung out in a while and i kinda miss youuuu or whateverrrr
You didn't respond right away, staring up at your plain white ceiling, releasing a sigh. Your smile faltered a bit.
She missed you. And you missed her. And even though being around her made you feel like you were gonna lose your mind, she didn't deserve to be pushed away.
“You are going to get over your feelings, starting now.” you said to yourself encouragingly, getting out of your bed to meet Billie at her place. You finally threw her a reply back.
you: i'm omw :))))))
______
You didn't knock when you finally arrived since you had the key, but you did make your presence known.
“Bil,” you shouted out. You didn't get a response, but you shrugged it off. She was probably deeply concentrated on whatever lyric or melody she was trying to create. You made your way to the studio, feeling your heart race inside of your chest. As you walked down the stairs and down a hallway, getting closer to the studio door, you felt more and more anxious.
You were going to open the door, your hand resting on the doorknob, but you froze when you heard the soft sound of humming. You leaned in closer, honing in on the gentle sound of Billie's voice, muffled and just barely audible.
“I want you to stay… til I'm in the…” She trailed off. You heard her let out a heavy sigh. That’s when you decided to make your presence known.
You slowly opened the door, quietly enough that Billie hadn’t even turned around in her chair, looking up at the large television screen in front of her, messing around with some music production software that you could never understand. You continued to stand in the doorway, watching as Billie made some small edits within the current song she seemed to be working on. She hit play after making some miniscule changes, the unfinished song softly playing out of the large speakers. As soon as the instrumental filled the room, you felt chills on every inch of your body; it sounded beautiful despite the fact that it wasn’t even done. You’d never get over how lucky you were to be able to hear the early versions of Billie’s songs – it was like being let into a secret world, and it made you feel special that you, alongside her family, got to witness every step of the process.
Eventually, the short snippet of the song had stopped, and Billie leaned back in her seat. Just from her posture you could tell that she seemed defeated, like something about the song just wasn’t right to her. She began humming again, mumbling out some lyrics here and there. You found yourself grinning as you admired Billie in her element, but then you remembered that you still hadn’t announced your presence and that you were just creepily ogling at her from the doorway. You audibly chuckled at yourself which, of course, finally grabbed Billie’s attention.
She spun around in her chair, seemingly startled at first before she realized it was you.
“Jesus Christ,” she started, her adorable laugh filling the quiet studio. “Did you just get here?”
You shook your head, heading over to the couch and making yourself comfortable. “I was standing there for a good few minutes.” You replied with a grin.
“Don't ever do that again – my heart fell into my ass.” She exclaimed, and you let out a loud cackle at that. You grabbed one of the throw pillows next to you and held it in your arms, reclining back into the familiar cushions.
“Okay, won't happen again. Maybe. No promises.” You joked, to which Bille just rolled her eyes playfully.
“Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?” You asked curiously, your eyes going back to the music software she had on the screen.
“The album, obviously.” Billie said with a smirk. Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, not being able to fight the grin tugging at the corners of your lips.
“Shut up,” you said with mirth. “Which track?”
“It's called Birds of a Feather, it's track 4. It's… pretty shit, right now.”
Your eyes widened in complete and utter bewilderment, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.
“Billie, what? I just heard the little snippet you played and it sounded incredible.”
“You say everything I make sounds incredible.”
“Because it's true.” You replied sincerely. To that, Billie gave you a gentle smile, looking down at her lap as if shy at the sudden praise. You felt the sensation of warmth throughout your body at just how endearing she was.
“All you do is gas me up.” Billie replied through a series of chuckles.
“Of course I'm gonna gas up my amazingly talented super star best friend,” You responded. “But… can I ask why you think it's bad?”
Billie sighed, leaning back in her chair again, twiddling her thumbs. “It's just… the lyrics are giving me a hard time. And the instrumental is missing something but I don't know what it is.”
“Can I read the lyrics?” You asked.
At that, Billie looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. She seemed hesitant, which was definitely unusual–she always let you read her lyrics and never felt shy about sharing stuff with you.
“Yeah, go ahead.” Bille said after a few long seconds of pondering, but you could still hear the uncertainty in her voice. Curious, your brows furrowed.
“Bil, I understand if it's something you don't wanna share with me yet–”
“No, please,” she said, quickly handing you her journal, already having opened it to the pages that contained the lyrics in question. “You can read it.”
You glanced at her expression one more time as you took the journal, and noticed that this time – she was holding back a smile, biting her bottom lip.
You were equal parts confused and eager to see what Billie seemed a little hesitant to share. You silently began reading what she had written, taking in her adorable, albeit messy handwriting. There were all kinds of scribbles on the page, certain words were crossed out. It was fascinating to you to see her thought process on the page. You loved just how deeply she thought about every word, every sentence.
Eventually, you stopped admiring her crooked letters and side notes and finally began analyzing the lyrics themselves – and when you did, you honestly wanted to cry at how lovely they were.
I want you to stay
Till I'm in the grave
Till I rot away, dead and buried
Till I'm in the casket you carry
If you go, I'm going too
‘Cause it was always you
And if I'm turning blue
Please don't save me
Nothing left to lose
Without my baby
“Billie, these are…” you paused, searching for the right words. “These are so sweet.” You said with a smile, meeting her warm blue eyes that were still trained on your face.
“Thanks.” She replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
As you read some more, a question had crossed your mind. Your eyes trailed off the page as you internally debated with yourself whether or not you should even ask because you were little afraid of what the answer would be.
It was clear to you these lyrics were about someone– they had to be. And the very thought of this song being about someone else in Billie's life made you feel as if there was a heavy weight in your stomach. For a second, you foolishly thought that you'd be able to overcome the feelings you had for Billie. All it took was imagining her with someone else that made those feelings rush back all at once.
You must've been quiet for longer than intended, because Billie spoke up. “Are they actually terrible? Do you hate them and you're trying to figure out how to break it to me?” Billie asked, that playful tone creeping back into her voice.
You chuckled. “They are far from terrible, Bil, it's just…”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat.
“I was just wondering… who's it about?” You asked, feeling unreasonably nervous about her response. You don't even know why, because you had long accepted that there was a possibility she didn't like you like that. You were prepared to be heartbroken – but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt any less.
But all Billie did was just… laugh.
“Guess.” She said, crossing her arms.
Oh, God. So there is someone else, you thought.
With a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, you said, “How the hell am I supposed to guess? But I'm happy for you, regardless.” You said, trying to be lighthearted, but your voice dropped a bit, possibly revealing your true feelings.
“Okay, do you want a hint?”
You stared at her incredulously. “You seriously want me to guess?”
“Do you want a hint or no?” Billie asked again, ignoring your question. She was smiling widely now, and you were still feeling that pang of sadness that you couldn't quite shake, but you continued to play along anyway.
“Sure. I'll take a hint.” You said.
“Okay,” Billie started. “She's my best friend in the entire world.”
“You have a lot of best friends-”
“Girl, let me finish.” Billie said with a laugh. “She's my best friend in the entire world who's known me my entire life. She's come with me to almost every show, every interview, and has supported me through everything.”
Billie had come a little closer to you now, her tone becoming more sincere with every word.
“When I'm lonely, she comes and visits me in the studio, even when it's ridiculously late. And she always compliments me and never lets me feel bad about anything I make.”
Slowly, but surely, you were beginning to realize something. Her descriptions were becoming more and more specific. Were you being delusional?
“Billie, I… what are you saying?” You asked. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, hard enough you were sure they'd be bruised.
“Still don't know?” She asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.
You shook your head.
“Okay, I'll just tell you then.”
Billie gently cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch almost instantly. She was close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips.
“She's right in front of me.” She said with a grin.
You couldn't even process the sentence that just came out of her mouth, frozen in shock and disbelief.
“This song is about me?” You asked quietly, your voice breaking slightly. You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, all of the emotion brewing within you threatening to spill.
“Do you remember the last time we hung out and you were filming me writing? I was writing this. I was writing this and thinking about you and how much I love you. I realized it as I was just… sitting there. You were laughing at some dumb meme on your phone and I just remember thinking how much I wanted you all to myself.”
You didn't realize you were crying until Billie had wiped away a tear.
“Hey, hey,” Billie said ever so softly, opting to hold both of your hands now. “Why are you crying?”
You laughed a bit through the tears, sniffling a few times before answering. “Because I… can't believe you felt this way the whole fucking time. I was going crazy, Billie.”
Billie let out a loud laugh of her own. It was your favorite sound in the world.
“Sorry. Honestly, I was trying to figure out my own feelings and how to tell you.”
“No, I'm sorry. For pushing you away.” you replied. Billie shook her head.
“Oh my god, stop. You don't have to apologize. It all worked out in the end, right?” She asked.
You smiled. “Yeah. It did.”
For several long seconds, there was a comfortable silence that stretched between the two of you. The both of you were smiling at each other, completely lost in the other's eyes. You didn't miss the way Billie's eyes glanced at your lips.
“Billie.” You spoke.
“Yeah, baby?”
The pet name made your heart soar.
“If you don't fucking kiss me right now–”
Billie didn't even let you finish your sentence, her lips colliding with your eyes in an explosion of pent up feelings and passion. She held both sides of your face in your hands, while yours snaked around her waist. You held onto her like she was gonna disappear any second and kissed her like you were starving.
The kiss started off innocent– but it quickly delved into something a bit more intense when Billie just slightly bit your lip, not enough to cause pain but enough to make you gasp. She introduced her tongue hesitantly, silently asking for your permission, which you granted without a second thought.
At some point, Billie finally got out of her swivel chair and moved to sit down on the couch with you. The two of you had pulled apart briefly for that, and when Billie was seated, her eyes were hooded and she was gazing at you like you were sex on longs. She patted her lap, and liked an obedient dog, you wasted no time crawling into her lap.
“I've dreamt about this.” You said, completely breathless and warm in the face.
“Oh, yeah?” Billie asked with a smirk that had your insides flipping upside down. “What else have you dreamt about?”
“Being able to call you mine.”
At that, Billie smiled. “That's all?”
“No, that's not all, but… I'd rather show than tell…” you trailed off, but it was obvious what you were referring to.
“We are getting out of my brother's basement, right fucking now.” Billie said.
The two of you snuck out of Finneas’ house, hand-in-hand and giggling like little kids in love.
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nathaslosthershit · 12 hours
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Oh Brother(s)! (LS2) (Leclerc!Reader)
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Logan Sargeant x Leclerc!Reader (Part 2 to Red, White, and Williams' Blue but can be read as a standalone) Summary: All Logan Sargeant wanted was a nice and productive conversation with the love of his life’s three annoyingly protective older brothers, was that too much to ask for? Request: Hi Natalia! Finished reading: Red, White, and Williams' Blue (LS2) (Note to self: my official comfort fic🥹), is it okay if I could request a part 2 to it? (If you do part 2’s)? Nothing specific just maybe seeing how they’re relationship is going? (You can add whatever you want to it, but that’s my idea as of now) Thank you!!! A/N: Its my fic and I get to do whatever I want with it so I say Logan Sargeant is happy and employed. I miss him so bad. This was also such a sweet request because I too really like that fic. 
“What are we going to do with him?” Charles asked his brothers, keeping his eyes on their victim sister’s boyfriend. The three Leclerc brothers were standing menacingly with their arms crossed in the living room.
Logan sat in a chair placed right in front of them. They said he wasn’t allowed to stand, and they weren’t going to sit. They didn’t want Logan thinking there was equal power between him and the brothers.
What family was he trying to marry into?
Right, that's why he was here, he came to ask Enzo, Arthur, and Charles for their sister’s hand in marriage. It felt so medieval but they were fiercely protective of her and he didn’t want to give them reason to object at the wedding. 
“Can we at least turn the lights on?” Logan begged.
“If the lights are on you won’t be scared.” Arthur replied.
“No, I think as long as it's the three of you I am talking to, I'll be frightened.” Logan didn’t actually think this, he had plenty of normal, stress free, calm conversations with them but he knew they would get an ego boost at hearing ‘how scared he was’. 
“So, you want to marry our baby sister?” Enzo asked. 
They keep asking that question as if they don’t know thats exactly why he is there.
“Considering I started this conversation off with ‘I want to ask your sister to marry me’ I think that is a safe assumption to make.”
“And you haven’t asked our maman? Why would we say yes when you don’t have the decency to go to the matriarch?” Questioned Arthur.
Logan had to come up with a good excuse for that.
“I had… I wanted to ask you all first, you are her brothers and she respects and cares what you all think. Plus I knew I’d have an easier time asking Pascale than you three.”
“Drop the attitude and maybe we will say yes.” Charles commented.
This was ridiculous, he had been there 45 minutes and still had not gotten an answer. 
“How can we trust someone who doesn’t understand why we are protective of our sister?” Enzo spoke up.
“Of course I understand but this is-”
“A perfectly reasonable response to the question you asked us.” Arthur stuck up his nose as he said this, pissing off Logan even more. All he wanted to do was marry this girl.
“But if you guys keep speaking over me than-”
“Now you are trying to silence us? We are only looking out for our baby sister and you are getting mad?” He could tell that the brothers were mostly teasing him, but he had officially run out of patience. 
“Okay! Thats enough. All three of you sit down on the couch so I can say my speech.” Logan commanded, getting up from his chair as he pointed to where he wanted the brothers to go.
Surprised, and a little intrigued at the outburst, the three sat down with nothing more than a few angry huffs.
“You all have known me as the man who is dating your sister for three years. In all of that time, was I ever rude or disrespectful to any of you?” 
The three monegasques shook their heads.
“Was I ever rude to your sister? Did I ever treat her with anything but the utmost love and care?” 
The brothers shook their heads again.
“So, I have always been nothing but kind and respectful. I have never given any of you a reason to not like nor trust me. I have been faithful and nothing but loving towards your sister. I have a career and a well paying job so you all have no reason to think she wouldn’t be taken care of. What can I do to just have you give me a simple answer?” Logan finally took a breath. He had a better speech prepared, one that had less yelling, but he didn’t have the patience anymore.
The three Leclercs stayed silent. Logan began to sweat. Maybe the yelling wasn’t the most helpful method of asking them for their permission.
He then let out a breath as the three in front of him began to smile.
It was a ‘we are totally fucking with you and are amused by your outburst’ smile.
Fucking hell, he knew it and still let them get in his head.
“Sorry Logan, we couldn’t resist. Had to see where your patience ran out for future reference now that you are a part of the family” Charles laughed while standing up to pat Logan on the back. 
It took a second to register what he said.
“So- so you all agree?” Logan asked, not sure if they were still fucking with him.
“Yes, mate, we knew you were here to ask our permission to marry her the moment you asked to meet up with us.” Enzo replied.
Behind the American, he heard feet approaching and based on the fact he saw all the color drain from the brothers’ face, he knew who it was.
All of the brothers felt their stomach drop as their sister walked into the room. She had heard everything! They had ruined their baby sister’s proposal.
The three boys began to freak out, their made up excuses overlapping with each other making it hard to hear a single word. 
Logan ran up to go hug her, spinning her around in excitement. This made everyone else go still. Why was he not upset? They had just ruined his big moment by being overprotective idiots.
At the confusion clearly displayed on their faces, their sister spoke up, “Logan may have already asked me a month ago, we just couldn’t see you in person until now so we waited to say anything.”
“I also just needed a little confirmation that you three wouldn’t kill me for proposing before I got permission from you guys. Although, to be fair, I did ask Pascale before I did anything.” Logan said
“So it was all a lie? You didn’t want to ask us first because we are the most important people?” Arthur asked.
“Are you guys serious? He has no reason to ask you three idiots first. Or at all! You are overprotective babies.” Their sister answered. 
As the Leclerc boys all spoke over each other for the second time, arguing with their sister's comment, Logan kissed his fiancé, the two blissfully unaware of what the brothers were screaming about.
And far too in love to care.
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l4ndonorizz · 19 hours
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white mustang / max verstappen
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pairing: max verstappen x reader
song: lana del rey - white mustang
summary: as the sun sets on a quiet beach, you and max confront the unspoken tension between you. What starts as a fleeting connection grows into something deeper as max opens up, revealing his desire to slow down and stay with you—no longer the untamable force you once believed him to be
wc: 1.8k
The sound of the ocean echoed softly in the distance as you stood barefoot on the warm sand, the horizon stretching out endlessly before you. The salty breeze tangled your hair as you stared out at the waves, lost in thought. The sun was beginning to dip low, casting a golden hue across the water, and everything about this moment felt surreal.
You had known this wouldn’t last. You had known from the start that whatever was happening between you and Max was temporary—a fleeting moment of intensity that could burn out just as quickly as it had ignited. But still, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more.
From behind, you felt Max’s presence before you heard him. He didn’t make a sound, but there was always something electric in the air whenever he was near—a subtle tension, a pull that you could never quite escape. Like the wild ocean in front of you, he was untamable, unpredictable—a force of nature you couldn’t resist.
“You’re always here first,” he said softly, his voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.
You shrugged, turning back toward the ocean. “Maybe I like the quiet.”
Max stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He had that same restless energy, like the waves crashing against the shore—beautiful, but dangerous if you got too close. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place. The thrill of being near someone who was all speed and instinct, never looking back.
“You’re like a white mustang,” you said suddenly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
Max glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
You smiled softly, your eyes meeting his. “It means you don’t stick around. Always moving, never staying in one place for too long.”
His smirk faded, and for a moment, he seemed to consider your words more deeply than you’d expected. The way he looked out at the horizon, with the sun casting golden light on his face, made him look softer, more introspective. The usual confidence that radiated from him was still there, but tonight, it was quieter.
“Maybe that’s who I was,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But maybe… maybe I’m trying to be something else.”
It caught you off guard, this hint of vulnerability. Max Verstappen, the man who thrived on speed and the thrill of the unknown, wasn’t supposed to have these quiet moments of doubt, but here he was. For the first time, he wasn’t looking ahead at the next challenge or race; he was just here, with you.
You weren’t sure how to respond, so you didn’t say anything. The soft sounds of the ocean filled the silence between you, and for a while, that was enough.
The sun continued its descent, casting a warm glow over both of you. Everything felt softer, like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just you and Max standing on this deserted beach. He stepped closer, so close that the warmth of his body radiated into yours. It was a familiar feeling, being close to him, but tonight it felt different—charged with something deeper, something unsaid.
"Let's go somewhere," Max suddenly said, his voice breaking the quiet between you. There was excitement there, but it was quieter than usual, like he wasn’t asking for a thrill but rather for something real.
You turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the suggestion. "Go where?"
"Anywhere," he replied, his eyes locking with yours. "I don't care. As long as you're with me."
His gaze was steady, more serious than you were used to. Max had always been the type to chase after what he wanted without hesitation, but this felt different. There was something deeper behind his words, something more vulnerable than you'd ever seen from him.
"Max..." you began, unsure of what to say, but he took your hand gently in his, his thumb brushing over your skin in soft, calming strokes.
"I mean it," he said softly, stepping closer so that there was barely any space between you. "I don't want this to just be a moment. I don't want you to think I'm just going to run off like I always do."
His words hit you like a wave, unexpected and intense. You had always told yourself that whatever was happening between you and Max was temporary—just a beautiful, fleeting moment that would eventually fade like a dream. But here he was, asking for something more, something that went beyond the rush and adrenaline.
"But that's who you are," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "You're always moving. You're... wild, free. And I don't know if I can keep up."
Max’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "You don't have to keep up," he murmured, his voice full of warmth. "You just have to stay."
Your heart raced at his words, your mind spinning. Could someone like Max really stay? Could he really slow down? You had always been afraid of the day when he would leave, when the pull of the next race, the next thrill, would be too much for him to resist. But tonight, standing here with him, it felt like maybe things could be different.
“I’m scared,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “What if I’m the one who can’t stay?”
Max frowned, his eyes searching yours. “What do you mean?”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “I’m not built for the kind of life you live, Max. I can’t keep up with your pace, with the way you’re always on the move. And I don’t want to be the reason you slow down.”
Max’s hand gently cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re not holding me back,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “If anything, you’re the only thing that makes me want to stop running.”
His words sent a jolt of warmth through you, but you couldn’t shake the doubt that lingered in the back of your mind. Max was everything you had ever wanted—wild, passionate, free—but he was also unpredictable, untamable. And you weren’t sure if you could handle being the one to ask him to slow down.
“What if you get bored?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if one day you wake up and realize this isn’t enough for you?”
Max shook his head, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I could never get bored of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the weight of his words making it hard to breathe. You had spent so long convincing yourself that this was temporary, that Max would eventually move on, but now, standing here in the soft glow of the setting sun, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this time could be different.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” Max continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to know that I’m serious. I want to be with you. For real.”
Your heart raced at his confession, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the doubts you had been holding onto for so long. You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of hesitation, any hint that this was just another fleeting moment for him. But all you saw was honesty—raw, unfiltered honesty that made you feel more vulnerable than you ever had before.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted softly, your voice breaking.
Max’s smile was soft, understanding. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be here. We’ll figure it out.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe this wasn’t just a moment—that maybe, just maybe, Max was serious about staying.
The evening drifted on as the two of you sat together, watching the sun finally disappear below the horizon. The sky turned a deep shade of purple, stars beginning to peek through the darkness. Max’s hand remained in yours, a silent promise that neither of you was ready to break.
“You know,” Max said after a while, his voice quiet, “I’ve never felt like this before.”
You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. Max wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, and yet, here he was, opening up in a way you had never expected.
“What do you mean?” you asked softly.
Max hesitated, his eyes focused on the ocean in front of you. “I’ve always been chasing something—something I could never quite catch. I thought it was about racing, about winning. But now… I think it’s you.”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the weight of his confession hanging in the air between you. Max’s usual confidence was gone, replaced by something softer, something more real. And it terrified you.
“You’re the reason I want to slow down,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the only person who makes me feel like I don’t have to keep running.”
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the sincerity in his words cutting through every fear you had ever had about being with him. You had spent so long convincing yourself that this would never work, that Max was too wild, too free for someone like you. But now, sitting here with him, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong.
“I’m scared too,” you admitted softly, your voice shaking. “But I want this, Max. I want you.”
Max’s smile was soft, his eyes filled with relief as he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that this was real—that maybe, just maybe, Max wasn’t going to run this time.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not this time.”
You smiled, your heart swelling with love and relief as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, but for once, it wasn’t the wildness of the ocean that held your attention—it was the calm that came with being in Max’s arms.
For the first time, the white mustang had found a place to rest.
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liahaslosthermind · 2 days
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~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~
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(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal
Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort
His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.
He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.
"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, a man he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the person he saw.
It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.
Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.
It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.
A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.
Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.
"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."
"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.
"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.
The spymaster didn't answer.
"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"
He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.
His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.
Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.
How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.
"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.
"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my desert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.
Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.
The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.
"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."
In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.
These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.
Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.
Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew it wasn't that. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.
He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.
Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.
After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days.
He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.
He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.
He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.
Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.
The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place deserving of her, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.
The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.
Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it preserved.
It had been a show of good will, Adelaide had been head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. The two had met to have academic conversations at least once every few months for decades.
But as Azriel looked down at her, it felt like a cruel punishment from Helion.
6 months later, she was still as beautiful as she was the last time he saw her, and she was still just as dead.
This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.
Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.
Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed their by Mor.
On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.
Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?
Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.
The Walking Dead
A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?
The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.
It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.
The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.
A spell.
He almost dropped the book at the realization.
No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.
He knew what he needed to do.
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ilovedazaiosamu · 3 days
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wasn’t that what you wanted? || megumi fushiguro !
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
★ • genre : angst
★ • megumi x reader !
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•𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟•
october was a stressful month for megumi, including you. there were so many missions to do, to the point you both obviously didn’t have time for each other. it bothered you, but it didn’t to him. he was acting like you were nothing to him. and your relationship grew apart, as megumi could barely spare any time. you were confused. he had his day offs, but he couldn’t even spare a conversation with you.
this morning, he was in a bad mood. usually, he would do his morning routine. he didn’t this time. he was occupied on his phone, texting yuji. he was complaining to him about how annoying you were. that’s why he has been ignoring you. he didn’t wanna hear your stupid bullshit. somehow, you saw his messages with yuji. it was heartbreaking, it tore you apart. how could he say that about you? you mean, you knew you were a chatterbox, but you thought he didn’t mind it.
”what the fuck, [name]?”
megumi was behind you. he wanted to know why you were on his phone. megumi felt so much anger in him. a little piece of resentment was building up inside him. he snatched his phone away from you.
“is that what you really.. think of me?”
you asked, trying to bottle up the surge of emotions in you. you wanted to ask why, so you could fix it. you wanted to know why. you were befuddled. why would he be with you if you were annoying.
“you weren’t supposed to see that. what the fuck were you thinking? you’re so meddlesome! do you know how annoying it is to live with you?! constantly being questioned, especially nagged! you know what? i’ve had enough of this. just leave. i don’t wanna look at you right now.”
now i was in distress. i didn’t know he had loathed me so much. i thought he still had a little bit of love in me. it looked like he didn’t. tears were staining my cheeks, as his fierce gaze was upon me.
“i thought you—“
“i don’t wanna hear it. i said leave.”
was he always this mean to you? what was stressing him out? you needed to know. but you just couldn’t. not with him ignoring you.
“i’m done, megumi! i’m done! do you know how long i’ve been holding onto this relationship for? how hard i’ve been trying to rebuild our relationship?! i’m trying, but you aren’t! just why? if i’m that annoying, why didn’t you say so? it kills me when you don’t communicate with me! i can’t do this anymore. our relationship is futile, you know why? because of this disrupted communication going on! everything would be just fine if you didn’t leave me hanging! i’m out!”
megumi was silent. through all this time, he was only thinking selfishly. he didn’t see his own mistakes, because his self centered mind only saw others’. sure, i wasn’t perfect, but i tried really hard. while he was distraught, i left. i ran outside, where the rain was pouring down on me. the clouds were crying with me. you knew it was never a good idea to bottle up your emotions. it’s like when a grasshopper comes out of its box, the others will end up escaping too. you bawled as you ran out of the building. everything was such a pain. your legs were strained, your voice too. why was it so hard to find love? to be loved?
i ended up at a cafe, where yuji was inside.
‘shit! i didn’t know he was here. i can’t get out now, i already ordered something..’ you thought to yourself as you panicked.
‘oh my god, he looked at me! shit he’s pulling out his phone.’ you knew yuji was texting megumi.
in a few seconds, megumi somehow arrived. his clothes were soaked. it looked like he was crying to. he was looking around, as if he was searching for you. you caught up on what he was doing, so you hid. you were too scared to see him. you were too embarrassed. you attempted to cover my face with my hair, but he could recognize you from a mile away, so what’s the use? he went over to your seat, and sat himself down. he had an apologetic look on his face. his nose was red, and he was blowing his nose with a tissue. it was so awkward, you felt an uncomfortable feeling in your chest.
“i’m sorry. don’t leave me, forget about everything that i said.”
megumi intertwined your fingers with his, laying his head on my shoulder. you were a little mad at him, but you smiled.
“i’m also sorry, gumi. i lashed out on you..”
you responded to him, with a sincere look on my face. my food arrived, and he kept on staring at it. you giggled at him. he was hungry but didn’t say anything.
“you should start talking more, how are we gonna avoid miscommunication if we don’t communicate?”
“yeah, maybe we should.”
megumi opened his mouth, letting you feed him your fries. he didn’t really like them, but food is food. and for the rest of the day, you both finally spent time together alone.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
★ • notes : i’ll gladly quit if this flops ! the ending is so unilateral LMAO
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blackenedsnow · 3 days
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Hey there! I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something where Michael Myers is super possessive and protective of the reader. The reader is normally really independent and tough, but they get into a situation where they actually need help—maybe they’re being stalked or harassed by someone, and Michael steps in?
silent guardian
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WARNING: Possessiveness, stalking/harassment, violence, gore, toxic protectiveness, mention of murder.
PAIRING: Michael Myers x Reader
NOTE: Take you for your request! Enjoy!
SUMMARY: You're used to handling things on your own. You've always been independent and strong, never needing anyone’s help—until someone starts stalking you. At first, you think you can deal with it, but the situation escalates beyond your control. Michael Myers, lurking in the shadows, has always kept a watchful eye on you, and now, when you truly need help, he's more than ready to step in.
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You had always prided yourself on your independence, on being the kind of person who could handle whatever came their way. You never needed anyone to protect you, and you certainly didn’t need anyone watching over you like some fragile thing. Life had thrown its fair share of challenges your way, but you'd learned to fight through them on your own terms.
That was before the stalking started.
At first, it was just unnerving—someone watching you too closely, lingering in places you couldn’t see, leaving a trail of anxiety wherever you went. But lately, things had escalated. You’d started noticing small signs, messages left behind, your name scrawled on your car window in the condensation, items in your home moved just slightly out of place.
You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself you could handle it. After all, you weren’t one to be scared so easily. But the weight of someone constantly lurking in the background was starting to wear on you, making you jump at shadows and lock every door twice.
It was only when the situation came to a head that you realized just how far out of control things had gotten.
You were on your way home late one night, cutting through a dark alley you had taken a hundred times before, when you heard the footsteps behind you. They weren’t subtle. Whoever was following you wanted you to know they were there.
Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as you quickened your pace, trying to lose whoever it was. But no matter how fast you walked, the footsteps stayed right behind you, the presence growing closer with each second.
Fear gnawed at you, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You turned a corner, hoping to lose them in the winding streets, but they were relentless. Panic set in as you reached a dead-end, and for the first time in a long while, you felt trapped.
Before you could react, the figure appeared at the mouth of the alley, stepping out of the darkness.
Your instincts screamed at you to run, but there was nowhere to go. Just as the shadow moved toward you, something else stirred in the darkness—something much larger, much more dangerous.
Michael. Though, you didn't know it yet.
He stepped out from the shadows like a force of nature, his massive form blocking the alleyway. The stalking figure stopped dead in their tracks, fear flickering in their eyes as they realized who and what they were up against.
Michael didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The air around him was thick with menace, his silent fury directed entirely at the person who had dared to follow you.
Without warning, Michael lunged, grabbing the stalker by the throat with one hand and slamming them against the wall. The sound of the impact echoed through the narrow alley, but Michael didn’t stop there. His grip tightened, cutting off any chance of escape for the unfortunate soul who had crossed his path.
You watched, frozen in place, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael’s eyes, under the mask, cold and empty, locked onto the stalker with a single-minded intensity, as if this person’s fate had already been decided.
In a matter of seconds, the threat was neutralized, the stalker left gasping for air on the ground, barely conscious. Michael didn’t spare them a second glance.
He turned to you then. The intensity was still there, but now it was different—possessive, protective. He stepped closer, and despite everything, despite knowing the monster he was, you felt a sense of relief wash over you.
You weren’t alone.
For a moment, the two of you just stood there in the darkness, the weight of the situation settling in. You had always been the strong one, the independent one, but here, in the shadow of someone who lived for violence, you realized that even you needed help sometimes. And Michael—whether out of obsession, possessiveness, or something darker—had always been watching, always ready to step in when you needed him most.
He didn’t speak, didn’t ask if you were okay. That wasn’t his way. Instead, he reached out, his hand roughly grabbing your arm.
A strange comfort settled over you. In his twisted way, Michael had become your protector.
And in that moment, you didn’t mind being his.
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papaya-twinks · 20 hours
Text
mauve - l.n - p.3
Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Sexism
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
Taglist: @cheriiepies@jan1on@sagestack@fall-bambi@meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole @justcharlotte @cutieln4 @amz824 @coff33andb00ks @yoruse @neferaskingdom @dramaticpiratellamas @leonie404 @scarletwidow3000 @awritingtree
other parts 💜
“God, she’s so fucking infuriating,” Lando said, balancing his phone against his water bottle as he buttoned up his white shirt. “You mentioned,” Max refrained himself from rolling his eyes as Lando ignored him. “Like, why does she insist on being such an annoying little shit? Is she trying to piss me off?”.
“And that stupid little dress she wore before practise and quali,” Lando said, his mind jumping back to the memory of the dress you’d worse, the thick, knitted black minidress, the holes between the wool showing off your skin. “Is she trying to tease me or something?” Lando asked, more to himself than to Max.
“I don’t think she wore it for you,” Max said, “but you sure are getting worked up about it,”. Lando rolled his eyes as his hands ran through his selection of chains and necklaces, sliding a couple rings onto his long fingers. “I’m not worked up about shit,” Lando said, his voice sounding forced and strained.
“Whatever,” Max scoffed, knowing Lando could be a stubborn little shit sometimes, “you blocked her for making a joke, at least unblock her maybe? Proves you’re not as petty as you made out to her,”. Max did have a point, Lando supposed, as he took his phone out, hand hovering over the ‘unblock’ button.
You hadn’t even blocked him back, which onto made him look petty. God, you knew his game better than he did. “Look, me and some do the guys are gonna head down to the club, meet us there when you’re done selecting which necklace is the least feminine,” Max said as Lando snickered, hanging up.
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“She’s such a-,” Lando said, showing Max the phone. “A bitch, yeah, you mentioned,” Max said, rolling his eyes, “now what are you showing me?”, he squinted at the phone, reading the comments. “Man, I put them fire emojis, I always put them and she sent the extinguisher,” Lando groaned.
“You told her she was shit as well,” Max protested weakly, knowing Lando would either flip at that, or ignore it. “Whose side are you even on?” Lando grumbled, though he did know he was being unreasonable. But he just didn’t understand why he felt so….so annoyed with simply your presence.
“Fine,” Lando said, putting his phone back down, “if she wants a social media rivalry coz she’s too shit to even bring her car close to mine,” he hissed, “she can have that,”. But yet, as Lando forced himself to try and understand and make himself believe that he hated you…he couldn’t help doing what he did next.
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As much as Lando hated to admit it, you were very beautiful. He could see why people said that, though you wouldn’t catch him dead with those words on his lips. It was well past midnight by now, as Lando just scrolled and scrolled through all your photos, the ones from your F2 days, karting days.
If little Lando had been told you’d be a driver one day, and he looked at you at that age, when you were little and karting too, he would’ve probably laughed. To him, what could a girl do? Well, tomorrow was when you showed what you could do.
You’d qualified 13th, just behind Alex, which was a pretty solid result considering you were driving a cheese grater on wheels, but mow was the race. Your palms were sweaty, arms heavy as you walked onto the grid. You’d at least manage to line your car up fine, which was a good sign in some respects.
You’re nervous, you could feel your heart throbbing against your chest, but on the surface you look calm and collected, ready to drive the shit out of this race. “Hi, Y/N,” an interviewer appeared out of nowhere as you walked up and down the pit lane, silently assessing each car.
“How are you feeling for the race?” she asked as you blinked for a few seconds. You opened your mouth, you’d forgotten what you’d practised, everything you wrote down, it was all gone. The race hadn’t even begun and you’d choked already. You gave the reporter a weak smile before nodding your head and walking back to your own car.
Not an encouraging boost. As you say in the car, talking quietly to yourself, you watched the light go off to signal a formation lap. It was the same as F2 and F3, just warm up your tyres, slide to the left and right to grab some heat into them. You’d done it countless times before, you could do it again, right?
“Fuck!” you hissed as your front left tyre immediately locked up at the front corner. You just about managed to make it round the corner, but it was no doubt that that type was no overheated, and more than likely flat spotted. “God, she’s locked up already?” Lando snickered as he watched you through his rear view.
He looked forward to telling Max he was right about you being shit. You lined up into your box, a little further back than you would’ve liked, as you waited for the lights to go out. One…two…three…four…five. And out they went, your foot stamping down on the accelerator. Much to your own surprise, you’d gotten a decent start.
You barely registered the cars that you passed, making up two places already as you made it round the first corner. Thank shit. Alex had made it up to tenth, the last of the points paying position, and you were just behind. The last thing you’d ever want to do on your debut was fuck up your teammate’s and your own race.
You watched as the cars who started on soft began to file into the pits, Lando included as he tapped his steering wheel with his fingers, waiting for the tyres to change. And where did he come out? Right behind you. Great. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando cursed to himself.
“Y/N, don’t fight it,” your radio engineer said as you ignored him, defending like it was the race of your life down to the first corner. “Y/N, please, don’t overheat your tyres, this isn’t your fight,”. You didn’t care, you hated Lando. You hated that man more than anything, he was nothing but a stupid jerk, he deserved it.
“Y/N, this isn’t our race, we’re not racing Lando, I repeat, we’re not fighting Lando,” your engineer said firmly. God, fuck it. With a silent yell, you let Lando pass you, watching him wave one hand out of the side of his cockpit to you. Was that a thumbs up or a middle finger? You couldn’t tell.
You struggled with your tyres for the remainder of that stint, pitting to come out in 9th, before getting swiftly overtaken by Alex, and then Daniel. It wasn’t a bad race, yes, you’d not come in the points, but you had only gone up two places.
Fuck, Lando, he was a dick.
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loveanddeepthroat · 10 hours
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Unlucky Thirteen
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Summary - Sylus liked the quiet girl with the poorly heart. She was the only kid in the laboratory who hadn’t come and gone before he could even remember what she looked like. When he doesn’t see her for a whole day, he knows that there’s only one place she could be—the Medical Bay. He’d been through it all before she’d even arrived at the lab over a year prior, and felt a duty to keep her company whilst her heart healed.
Word Count - 2.4k
Warnings - Child!Sylus and Child!MC as experimental lab rats. Mentions of child experimentation and non-consensual medical treatments. This theory of them being lab rats is not canon, so keep in mind that I have made this all up!
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Sylus couldn’t find the girl with the poorly heart.
It was the third and final free hour of the day in the laboratory’s Playroom, and she was nowhere to be seen among the children.
Again.
The girl had been missing a few times before now—usually for further experimentation. But for all three of their free time breaks from observations and alterations meant only one thing.
She had to be in the Medical Bay.
He didn’t know much about the quiet girl, other than the fact that she had problems with her heart. There was always a big, white bandage over her chest that just peaked out over the neckline of her plain white gown, but he would never ask her questions about it. They only got to see each other during mealtime and free time, so discussing the things they were put through in between was something neither of them wanted to commit any time to. She didn’t want to talk about her heart as much as he didn’t want to talk about his eye.
In fact, they didn’t talk much at all. They just had a common denominator that seemed to draw them to each other.
Sylus had watched kids come and go from this place for a few years, hoping that one day it would be his turn to leave. That futile hope had been short lived, and it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere when all the other kids around him dropped off like flies. 
When she came in with a new group of kids around a year ago, he thought nothing of it. She was just a face he’d forget after she would undoubtedly be released. But as those weeks turned to months—the few children she had arrived with long gone—her face had remained a constant for Sylus.
He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d finally been freed today. The people in the lab coats were far too interested in her as of late, and she was starting to look more withdrawn each time he saw her. Much like he had when he woke from an operation he didn’t know he was having.
The more he thought about her condition, the more he hoped that she was in the Medical Bay—rather than somewhere more sinister.
He’d grown a bit of an attachment to the girl. She was the only friendly face that hadn’t left him. Even in their lack of conversation, he enjoyed her company. Felt comforted by her. They often read in silence side by side, always in whichever back corner of the Playroom was free of other kids. The less significant test subjects always delved straight into the toys and games, but the two of them had no interest in joining in.
Sometimes, if the lab coats had prodded around in his eye too much, the girl would quietly read aloud to him. He liked it when she read to him. So much so that he sometimes played on his eye problems just to hear her read for an hour.
He was used to her being absent for one or two of the three free hours they get, but this was too much for him. 
He had to get into the Medical Bay.
His head had purposely been rested against the electric heater beside the bookshelf for a few minutes as he made himself appear as clammy and feverish as possible. His cheeks burned as he pinched them repeatedly, and he put on his best nasally voice once he approached the Playroom supervisor with a little book tucked under his white t-shirt, rubbing his good eye for added effect.
“I feel sick,” he whined to the stone-faced woman in all-black clothing.
She barely threw down a glance at him, raising a lazy eyebrow. “You were fine during dinner.”
Damn.
Plan B came into quick effect. He rolled his eyes back a little, swaying where he stood. The hot skin of his forehead bumped against her hipbone as he stumbled forward dramatically, and she quickly bent down to his level, steadying him with her firm hands.
“Oh for goodness sake,” she mumbled, her frown deepening when she pressed the backs of her cold fingers against his head. She pulled out a little radio device that was tucked in the chest pocket of her shirt, speaking into it frankly with a push of its button. “Patient S013 is feeling unwell. Feverish. Permission to move from Room 11 to the Medical Bay?”
Sylus held his breath, willing whoever was on the other end of the radio call to grant the cold woman the permission he didn’t know she would need. He’d only ever been to the Medical Bay once before, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. Being examined and tested by strange scientists everyday was bad enough. He had no interest in spending time with the nurses who tended to him after his surprise surgery.
“Permission granted,” a male voice affirmed through the radio.
The stern lady grabbed suddenly at his shoulder, pushing him lightly out of the noisy room and down the silent halls. He liked when they were silent. He’d heard enough screams from children to haunt him for life.
The walk to the Medical Bay was short, and Sylus remembered to throw a few sniffles and pathetic coughs into the silent trek to keep up his charade. He must’ve still looked red faced and sickly, the nurse on duty handing him a gown to change into straight away upon his arrival.
He changed as quickly as he could behind a curtain that gave him only a sliver of privacy, tucking the book he’d smuggled from the Playroom into the inner fabric. The nurse checked his vital signs In the small triage room with nothing but a blank look on her face for comfort. Nobody around here tended to smile or show any true emotion towards the children. 
It didn’t affect Sylus at all. He didn’t know any different. Didn’t remember a time when someone smiled at him. Or when he had smiled at someone else. 
He wasn’t sure if he ever had.
The small, sterile Medical Bay was empty as he followed the nurse inside—save for the tuft of the girl's hair he could see peeking out above her blanket. He almost audibly sighed with relief to see her, but the fact that something was wrong enough for her to even be in the Medical Bay struck alarm bells in his head.
“Patient S113 isn’t feeling good, so try to be quiet,” the nurse told him. She pulled back the covers of the bed next to the girl, hurriedly ushering him to get in before giving him a syringe of medicine to take. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”
He nodded, waiting for her to turn around before he took a look at the sickly girl a few feet away. The skin on her face was shiny and damp in the stark light of the strip lights above them. She didn’t look well at all, and had the thin, white blanket pulled right the way up to her chin.
The nurse administered a dose of something fluorescent yellow to her in another syringe, pressing her hand to the girl’s damp forehead with a tut. Sylus could’ve sworn that the nurse sighed a little in concern.
“That medicine should make you feel a bit better soon. Try to sleep,” she murmured to the girl quietly, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to her skin before leaving the room. 
He didn’t know what to do once the nurse closed the door behind her. The quiet girl looked so…deathly. Her colouring was a good few shades lighter than it usually was, and there was a greyish tinge to it too. Whatever was going on with her, it didn’t look good.
“What happened?” he blurted quietly.
She slowly turned her head towards him, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realised it was him.
“Hi,” she whispered, her voice small and croaky.
The sound hurt something in Sylus’s chest. “What happened?” he repeated again, sitting up a little further in the bed to get a good look at her.
The girl lifted a shaky hand, pointing straight to where her heart was. “I think it’s broken,” she replied.
Sylus frowned a little. He didn’t know that hearts could break. Bones could break, he knew that much. He’d seen broken bones quite often in this place. Her heart wasn’t like most people’s—he knew that too. 
But it couldn’t break. Right?
“Are they going to make it better?”
She blinked at him a few times, and he really studied her. This was the most they’d ever said to each other in conversation, but it didn’t feel strange or wrong like he thought it might. It felt natural. Almost like they were both still here in the wake of so many other young patients’ departures for a specific reason. 
He found himself wanting to know more. He wanted to know everything about her heart—including how to fix it.
Her weary eyes glanced around the room for any listening ears, and she shifted the blanket down from her chin so she could see over it. She eventually whispered back to him, “I’m not sure that they’re even trying to fix it.” She took a shuddering breath in, wincing a little bit. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
That’s when he noticed it.
In the absence of the blanket, he saw the gnarly tail end of a stitched up incision where he would usually see a bit of the bandage she always donned on her chest. He may have been young, but he knew without having to ask what the lab coats had done to her. They’d done the same thing to him once before. Put him to sleep without warning to poke and prod into the innards of his most interesting body part—his right eye. He had no idea why they were so interested in it, or why they were equally as interested in her heart. But whatever the reason, it was mutually exclusive to the two of them.
“They’ve done that to me, too,” he reassured her quietly, trying to shift that anxious look from her tired face. She didn’t know what was going on, so he felt a duty to soothe any worries on her mind. “I woke up in here with a big bandage over my eye before you came to live here. Couldn’t see properly for a few weeks, but it got better. Like your heart will.”
The girl looked apprehensive, but seemed a little bit more settled to know that he’d been in the same situation previously. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been here for a long time.”
It didn’t sound like a question, but he answered like it was. He didn’t want to stop talking with her, hoping it was bringing her some semblance of peace. “I have,” he confirmed with a nod. “Me and twelve other kids were the first here. That’s why I’m patient S013.”
“Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number,” she whispered.
Sylus cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was kidding. He’d never heard of that before, but if she was right, it would make perfect sense. Patients S013 and S113 being the two most focused on subjects in the lab coats’ top secret experiments did seem a bit too coincidental in his mind.
He sure did have a lot of time on his hands to think about things like that, too. She was the one hundredth kid after him to arrive, and ended up stuck here with him for the foreseeable. Maybe whichever newcomer unlucky enough to be patient S213 would end up in their same predicament.
“We’ll find our luck one day,” he finally responded, exuding all of his confidence into that one sentence. He was determined that he’d fight his way out of here one day, and that he’d be able to bring her with him. He wasn’t strong enough—not yet. But whatever they were doing to him here, he’d use it to his own advantage once he got a good understanding of it. “Maybe we’ll both get out of here, and we can see what the world is like.”
The girl smiled. Smiled at him, even in her state. It wouldn’t have been possible to not smile back, no matter how unnatural it felt for the corners of his lips to curl.
“Yeah,” she whispered. Her blinks were slowing down, and she looked sleepy. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the ocean one day, like I’ve read about in books.”
Sylus suddenly remembered the book he’d smuggled in, still resting coldly against his stomach beneath his gown. He quickly reached down into the neckline, grabbing it out and waving it up for her to see it.
“I could read to you, if you want? While you fall asleep.” He wasn’t sure if it would help her in any way, but the familiarity of a book seemed like the best form of comfort he could think of for her.
Her tired eyes lit up a little, and her smile widened. It struck something in Sylus’s heart, and for a moment, he wondered if he had a heart problem. He’d never felt such a feeling, but he liked it. It felt like a real feeling. Not just the horrible physical feelings of aches and pains.
It was a mental feeling. A caring feeling.
He settled himself back against the plump pillow behind him, opening up the book. It was a children’s fable that they’d read many times before, and the one book he enjoyed hearing her read. He checked on her once more, making sure she was still awake and eager to hear him read.
The idea of a book seemed to wake her up a bit from her fatigue, but even so, Sylus would read the book over and over until it lulled her into a peaceful sleep.
He quietly cleared his throat reading the title aloud the way she always does.
“The Kitten Who Met The Crow…”
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story! I think the lab rats theory is so interesting and couldn’t resist this sweet little idea! I’ve been a bit slow on the content recently and I do apologise, but I’m in the midst of moving into a new apartment and the stress of that on top of the way my neurodivergent son is struggling to cope with it has turned my brain to mush. Things should settle soon and I’ll be back on the requests 🤍
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callieisto · 1 day
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HAPPY (LATE!) BIRTHDAY RO MY LOVE!!! Have some of the softest birthday sex with Sam I could cook up <33 @ivysangel
⊹˚₊‧꒰ა𓆩✧𓆪໒꒱ ‧₊˚⊹
Usually, Hunters didn’t have partners. Hunters didn’t live long enough or safe enough to love someone properly, maintain anything the way a relationship needed to be maintained.
Clearly, Sam never got the memo.
“Missed you,” Sam said breathlessly, kissing you as soon as you opened the door to your apartment. Long distance was hell, especially when he was away for your birthday. It just made him feel like the shittiest boyfriend ever, just the worst. He could save you from a stalker vampire, but he couldn’t convince Dean to leave him in a town the week of your birthday.
To be fair to Sam- in many, many ways, dealing with a stalker vampire was much easier than dealing with his brother.
But Sam would find his way to you if the world was ending, if the sky was spitting fire and the seas turned to lava. He would crawl over broken glass to see you smile. He loved you more than he loved the idea of saving the world.
He pulled away to study your face, to just soak you in. God, you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He leaned in again to nuzzle against your nose, the smile on his face infectious.
“You got your hair done,” he whispered, taking one of the braids between his fingers and twisting it slightly. “It looks good. You look good. God, I missed you.”
He kisses you again, crowding you back into your apartment, cradling your face in his hands. To say he’s desperate would be an understatement. He’s starving for you, he’s been going through withdrawals, and the simple feeling of your mouth on his feels like coming home.
He always wanted a normal life. And meeting you had been just the most amazing thing in the world. Falling into bed with you the first time had felt like… god, like something had clicked in his brain. Like the universe had finally righted itself. He’d been so lost, been living outside his body since uprooting his entire life, and you brought him right back.
Right now, though, he needed you so bad it hurt.
Curling over you- god, you’re so small in comparison to him, so beautiful- he smiles that crooked little smile down at you, hands moving from your face to your hips.
“Let me make it up to you,” he begs plainly, because Sam Winchester is not above begging for the woman he loves. “Please?”
“Okay,” you giggle, and he nearly cries with relief because god, he just loves you so much.
He picks you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, his hands supporting your thighs, and carries you down the hall to your bedroom. It’s cute, it’s so you, and he can’t help but remember the first night he ended up tangled in your sheets. You had just moved in, and there were boxes everywhere, and you had been so scared when the brothers broke your door down and basically camped out in your living room until that scummy vampire had showed his face.
Dean, who had apparently met another girl in the same city, decided to spend the night with her. Which left Sam without a car, and, well…
It was history.
He crawled over you when he softly dropped you on the bed, trailing his hands up and down and up and down- just feeling you, because it’s been so long, because he loves you, because he wants to be close to you in a way he never wants to be close with anyone else again.
“Happy late birthday, baby.” He whispered, kissing down your throat. Your giggle makes him smile, makes his cheeks flush. God, he’s so whipped for you it’s embarrassing.
Pretty soon, you’re naked. And he’s naked too, but he’s using your thighs as earmuffs as he presses sweet kisses to your clit.
“Missed this pretty pussy,” he murmured like a prayer, licking a stripe up your folds. He moans, trying not to rut his cock against the bed like a loser. He sucks on your clit, pulling you further down on the bed and laughing when you squeak out in surprise.
“Sam!” You chide breathlessly, propping yourself up on your elbows with an affectionate look on your face.
He just smiles, and shrugs, and goes back to eating you out like it’s the last thing he’s ever going to do.
“C’mon baby,” he murmurs against you, hitching your legs higher so he can tongue fuck you deeper, can slurp at you like you’re a fucking soup, his nose bumping against your clit all the while. “You’re so fucking pretty, taste so good, lemme have it, give it to me please…”
When your legs tremble around his head and you buck your hips into his mouth, cumming with a little cry of his name, he swears he’s never tasted anything sweeter. He could spend hours between your legs, and has, but the way you’re squirming makes him think that maybe, just maybe, you missed him just as much as he missed you.
So he leans back once you’re limp on the bed, kissing his way up your body until he reaches your mouth. “You’re so perfect.” He said, his voice tight. “God, you’re so perfect baby, I missed you so much.”
He kissed you slow, soft, big hand cupping your breast in his hand, tweaking the nipple just to hear you squeak.
He pulls back, a string of spit connecting his tongue to yours. He lets go of your boob, reaching for the bedside table to dig around for a condom. He found one, sitting back on his haunches to tear the little foil packing open with his teeth.
It is unfairly sexy, especially considering how you’re pretty sure you look like a mess. He rolls the condom on, running two fingers through your wetness to lube up his cock a little bit. He leans back over you, carefully, kissing your forehead.
“God, you’re so pretty.” He whispered, notching his tip at your entrance very carefully. “I missed you so much, baby, god… love you, love you s’much…”
He groans when he pushes in almost annoyingly carefully, like you might break, like he’s been away for so long that you might have forgotten what he feels like inside you.
He leaned down, resting his forehead against yours when his hips are flush with yours. “Hi pretty girl.” He crooned, peppering your face with kisses. “Oh, you look so pretty, all full of me. Good god.”
You squirm under his careful kisses, whining impatiently. “Sam,” you whimper, trying to kick at him to knock him out of the little lovey dovey haze he’s in. “Sam, move! Mnh-”
The little sound you make drives him crazy, and he starts moving, slowly, carefully. He picks up the pace when you let little moans slip out, because that has got to be his favorite sound in the world. The little whimpers, the way your eyes flutter, the way your lips part sweetly.
His hand snakes down your body to rub at your clit, because when you seize up with a cry of his name and soak his cock, he wants to cry because he’s so happy.
He keeps working at it, thrusts getting faster and harder as you squeal out a little “Sam, sensitive!”
“Just one more,” he croons down at you, his voice tight. “Just give me one more, sweetheart, one more, please, ‘s your birthday present, gonna make you cum at least one more time…”
And, true to his words, he makes you cum again. You cling to his bicep, manicured nails digging into his skin, crying out weakly as tears of pleasure smudge your makeup and trail down your cheeks. He groans as his hips stutter to a stop, the condom filling as he leaned over her, panting weakly.
He kissed your tears from your face, smiling softly. “Hey, pretty girl. You did so good. You made me feel so good, baby, god, I missed you.”
The two of you lie like that for a while, sweaty and sated. After a few minutes of gentle kisses and sweet praise, he pulled out, chuckling when you whimper at the empty feeling. He took the condom off, tying it before he tossed it into the trashcan by your bedside table. He grabbed his boxers, hiking them back up before crawling into bed with you.
“I missed you.” He whispered again, while you busied yourself settling against his chest. “I’m in town for the week. What do you say we go out and get you some birthday presents tomorrow?”
Your hum makes him smile. He kisses your forehead, gets comfortable, and the two of you fall asleep tangled in your sheets.
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