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#There's also something to be said about the timing of these thoughts. Autumn is a Red Sky season and the start of the year for
cerealbishh · 4 months
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"When we head out to Whitefish, there won't be any turning back."
#outer range s2#outer range s2 spoilers#outer range 02x06#maria olivares#rhett abbott#isabel arraiza#lewis pullman#rhett x maria#the side of the head kiss killed me#and i thought it was sweet that he seemed to take her fears seriously... even if he is still hiding something from her#the way he not only takes her hand but brings it closer to him??? i-#he looks kinda happy about his ma hugging his gal to me#also it's hard to see but in the last gif i think she smiles at him and leans in when he puts his arm behind her#i feel like he knows he's asking a lot of her so he feels the need to reassure her that he still wants to leave with her...#but it feels like false promises somewhat tbh#i wanna be a fly on the wall to see how rhett reacts to hearing any stories maria has about autumn#i know i said the smile when he kisses the side of her head felt like she wasn't as mad at him in one post#but it was also a smile that felt like she was like “i love you but idk if that's on the table anymore''#idk if this is 100% correct but i think she's about to slide her hand off and he sort of catches it? (i had to watch this clip a lot)#i think he pulled her hand in closer because he's holding it with both of his the same way maria might've put her hand over his in 02x03#i can't tell if just before rhett puts his arm around maria in the car i can hear ''do you mind if i-'' or '' you were wonderful''... maybe#i think this might be the episode where lew might've provided isa with a lot of emotional support#maybe he grabbed her hand this time because he regrets not doing it at dinner?
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blackvahana · 14 days
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Don't get me wrong, I have a complicated relationship with this. When I say you don't need to understand, I mean it. I've so much use for soldiers, and being a soldier and weapon myself. There are wars that need to be fought and battles that need mass destruction to protect civilians. Soldiers, in the way of people trained to dissociate from their violence and listen to orders of who to kill, form the backbone of safety when wars involved. There's also general necessity for shutting off and getting something violent done
This is separate from the last post because there's no But, it's just personal stance on it
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 8 months
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what friends do | f. odair
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summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming
notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3
word count: 11.7k
Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.
Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.
Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.
District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.
You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.
However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.
But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.
Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.
"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.
Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"
"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."
Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."
To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.
"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"
"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."
You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked.
Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.
He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.
The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.
He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.
Finnick Odair.
The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.
The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.
That was what everyone made him out to be.
Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?
It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.
His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.
"I'm Finnick, by the way."
The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.
You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.
Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.
You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.
At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by. 
When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did. 
As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...
**********
As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.
Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.
"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."
Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.
Finnick was very much a gentleman.
He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.
All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.
But there was more to it than innocent adoration.
The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.
Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.
All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.
A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.
Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.
But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?
Maybe.
However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.
Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.
Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.
He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.
There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.
You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.
It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.
You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.
This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.
As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.
"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.
Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.
That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.
"Look at thi—"
Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief. 
Damn that stupid seashell.
He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"
You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.
"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"
Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.
"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."
You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.
"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.
He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."
"No, you just don't think, Finn."
He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."
"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."
Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.
You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.
Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.
One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.
Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.
And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."
The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—
"I think..."
—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.
The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.
Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.
Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.
So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.
When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.
As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.
The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.
You sighed.
The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.
Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.
"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.
Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"
"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"
With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"
"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"
Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"
He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"
You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."
"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.
Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?
Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.
Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.
Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.
And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.
You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.
"Thinking about anyone in particular?"
You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?" 
How did he keep doing that?
Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"
As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.
Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.
If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.
Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.
You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."
Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...
Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.
You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."
"Who could've guessed."
Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.
Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.
Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.
There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.
Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."
You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.
"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.
You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."
With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.
The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"
"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."
You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.
"Better?" he asked.
You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."
"Anytime."
You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.
Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.
He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.
How could he?
The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.
You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.
First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.
"Stop moving."
You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.
"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.
His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.
You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?
In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"
"Fuck," he breathed out.
Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.
That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.
But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.
"...Oh," you whispered.
"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."
Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.
As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.
What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—
Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.
You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.
"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"
That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.
Finnick was silent.
The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.
Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.
And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."
Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.
You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.
It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.
Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.
"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.
"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"
You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.
Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"
A wave of chills ran down your entire body.
What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.
Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.
You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.
He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.
Finnick murmured your name.
"Yes?" you managed to whisper.
"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"
Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.
You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.
His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.
There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.
You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.
It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.
Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.
"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.
Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.
With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.
"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.
His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"
Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.
Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.
You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.
You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.
So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.
It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.
"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.
"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.
If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.
Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.
Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.
"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.
The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.
"Yes,"you practically whined.
He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.
You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.
His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.
You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.
Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.
But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.
Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"
He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.
You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.
"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."
And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.
"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."
Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.
To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties. 
He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.
Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."
He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.
His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.
"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.
How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."
"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."
Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.
At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.
The moan you let out was positively filthy.
"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."
Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.
"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."
"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."
A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.
Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.
The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.
It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.
"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.
"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.
You nodded fervently.
"Say please first."
"Finn," you whined in frustration.
You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"
His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.
Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.
"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."
He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."
His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.
Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.
That is what did it for you.
You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.
"Taking it so well."
"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."
"Such a good girl."
As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.
"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.
You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.
"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."
If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.
You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him
You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.
"Hi," you whispered.
He smiled. "Hey, stranger."
He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.
You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.
Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."
You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.
"Feeling better?"
"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."
A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."
And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.
You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.
You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."
Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.
Then came the explosion.
His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.
Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.
A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.
You stayed like this for a few seconds.
"So big," you gasped against his lips.
His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"
"Never."
This was so not what friends did.
He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.
At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.
All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.
The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.
He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.
You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.
"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."
You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?
He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.
"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."
He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.
Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.
He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.
His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.
You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.
Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.
His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.
He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.
Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.
That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.
Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.
Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"
He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.
"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."
Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.
You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.
Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.
"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."
The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."
"Come inside you?"
You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.
"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."
Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.
"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.
He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.
And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.
It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.
He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.
When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.
With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.
You were gone.
"Oh fuck!"
The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.
He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.
You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.
A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.
There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.
But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.
It was a new moon.
Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal. 
You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.
Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.
He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.
Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.
"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.
Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."
"For an entire hour?"
"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."
You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."
"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."
"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."
You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.
Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.
"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"
The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?
A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.
There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.
Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.
Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.
Maybe.
"That's a long time," you said.
He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."
And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.
"I'm sorry it took me so long."
"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."
You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.
A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.
You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.
"Finn?"
"Yeah?"
The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.
You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.
He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.
"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.
Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?
"I love you too."
His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.
...roll credits
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sturnsdarling · 28 days
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You're much better company, tough girl
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fratboy!matt has met his match with smartand'mean'!reader, and he can't get enough of her
vibe check: SMUT, mattthemunch, unprotected cuddle time (I'd tell you to wrap it but i'm not your mother) bigdick!matt, choking, spitting, praise, reader strumming the bean, pet names (angel, tough girl), all that good stuff.
4k words
A/N: This concept was born from and is my take on the wonderful, amazing and ridiculously talented @sturnioz fratboy!matt au, and its also my first fic so, be kind. PSA REGARDING PART 2
love and cigs, merc
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The autumn air was cold, and the fishnets on your legs weren’t doing you any favours. you’d snuck out the party to escape the weirdo guy that was basically stalking you since you had arrived. You'd hoped to find your friend, but she was somewhere tangled up with one of the resident frat boys, her shy demeanour acting like catnip to the renowned player Chris Sturniolo. You found yourself outside the front of the house, genuinely considering leaving, but knowing your friend would need company once Chris inevitably got bored of her. From around the corner, you heard  a lighter flick and the deep inhale that normally follows, turning and walking down to the side of the house, you saw a shadowy figure being periodically illuminated by the butt of his cigarette. 
"What're you doin’ out here?" you questioned, walking over to Matt who was leant against the side of the house, trying to escape the "new age, shit rap music" Chris put on.
Matt held up the cig in his fingers and gave you a short smile, before placing the cigarette between his lips and taking a long drag, his jawline becoming even more prominent as his cheeks hollowed slightly. 
"Thought you didn't smoke?" you said, arms folded over your chest as the cold air bit at your nearly bare legs. 
"I don't smoke weed, but, I do love my cigs" He held the open box out to you and you pulled one out, placing it between your lips gently. He brandished his silver lighter in front of your face and lit the cigarette, absentmindedly staring at the way the flame illuminated your features. 
"Chris is the stoner, kid fuckin' loves it" He said as he flicked the lighter closed and placed it back in his pocket. 
"Cigarettes still contain drugs, y'know that right?" You smirked, taking a drag and letting the smoke come out with every word. 
"Yes, smart-ass I know that" He quipped back, "everyone needs a vice, you know?" 
You giggled slightly as his philosophy, "a vice? you need something to help you escape the plaguing reality of being a frat bro?”, smiling as you placed the cig between your teeth and took another drag.
“Ugh, don't call me that" he responded, spitting the foul taste out of his mouth onto the floor, "besides..." He paused to take a drag, "If I was a frat bro, which I'm not, I could have a plaguing sense of reality, frat boys have feelings too you know, kid" he smiled, his perfect teeth almost reflecting the light from the street lamps. 
“oh, do tell, what plagues the infamous Matthew Sturniolo" you grinned at him, rolling your eyes in faux sympathy.
"Infamous? ouch.” He held his hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. 
Pausing for a moment, he looked at you and then to the floor, shuffling where he leant slightly and shrugging his shoulders, "I dunno, l've always got somthin' going on up there" He gestured to his temple with the cig in his fingers.
“But, 'nough about me, what're you doin' out here?" he asked, desperately trying to change the topic from himself, pointing his cigarette at you in an accusatory
"Came lookin’ for you" you said, blowing the smoke from your pursed lips. 
His eyebrows raised at your confession, "Me?" He questioned. 
"mhm" You nodded, taking another drag. 
“Why?” his brows furrowed as smoke bellowed out his open mouth. 
“I didn’t actually, jus' thought you’d like the flattery” You chuckled, ashing your cigarette.
“wow, okay, how tough are you?” He smirked, standing up from his leant position and throwing his cigarette to the floor, just before stamping it out. 
“Me? tough? never.” You said sarcastically, placing your cigarette back in your mouth. 
Matt came forward slightly and pulled the tiny stick from your lips, placing it between his own and taking a drag whilst maintaining a firm stare. You watched him intently, your big eyes burning holes into his as he placed the cigarette back into your mouth. 
“You didn’t answer my question, kid” he said, his tone faltering as he blew the smoke from his mouth.
a long huff left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, “I needed to escape this guy, he was fuckin’ relentless and I was not into it”. 
Matt paused for a moment, still baring down into you, “yeah?” half of his teeth coming onto display as a smirk encapsulated his face, “what are you into?” he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly so he was even closer to you, his breath nearly touching the cold apples of your cheeks. 
As he was speaking you took a long drag, and in response to his clear attempt to rile you up, you blew the smoke into his face with pursed lips and a smile. Matt blinked slowly with raised brows at your bravery, letting the wind carry the smoke from his face. 
“What do you think i’m into, Matthew?” you asked, matching his earlier cadence. 
“I think, you act all tough, but really, you want someone to tell you to sit down, shut up, and to take it like the pretty, pretty girl you are” he said, so non-challant you’d think he was explaining that the sky is blue. 
Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes fluttered slightly, not quite fully closing. 
A cheshire cat smile formed on Matts face, he knew exactly what type of girl you were from the moment he laid eyes on you on the first day of the semester. 
“You think I’m pretty?” you asked in a condescending tone, pulling your confidence back, trying to ignore the growing sensation in your stomach. 
Matt simply nodded in response, tucking a messy strand of hair behind your ear and letting his fingers trail down past your neck and over your bare arms. At some point during your back and forth, Matt had edged his face impossibly close to yours, he hooked a finger under your chin and pulled your head up to face him, 
“I think you’re beautiful, tough girl” he whispered, almost into your mouth as it parted with his words. 
With that, you threw your cigarette to the floor and thrust your lips into his, the force pushing him backwards to into the wall he was leant on only moments ago. His hands found your waist, pulling you in tight against him as yours pulled and tugged at the loose brown curls on the back of his head. The kiss was feverish, animalistic and messy, you were positioned snug between his legs as one of his hands found its way to the covered flesh of your ass, he squeezed it with a low growl and slapped it quickly after, rubbing the sting away with a soft hand. The sensation caused you to whimper into his mouth, jolting against him as his hand smacked your ass. He chuckled into the kiss, his hands roaming all the way up your back and into your hair. He pulled you off him with a firm hand wrapped around the back of your neck.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you make noises like that” he dipped his head down, capturing your neck in his teeth and soothing the sting with a flat, warm tongue. 
“Matt” you whispered, your head hanging on your shoulders, resting in Matts large palm. “What’s up, angel?” he murmured from the curve where your neck and shoulders meet.
“I’m not—shit— I’m not gonna fuck you round the side of your house” You manage to get out, slightly distracted by the sensation of Matt nipping at sucking at your neck. 
“Let’s go inside then” You even mentioning fucking him was enough permission to take your hand and drag you inside. 
The music boomed against your skull as he pulled you through the party with your hand in his, both of you ignoring everyone that tried to spark up some kind of drunken conversation. He led you up the large staircase in the centre of the main room, his focus on your destination only faltering to glance at Chris who, had your best friend tucked under his arm on the sofa, the pair exchanged a knowing look and Chris shot Matt a wink, quickly returning his attentions to the shy girl perched next to him. As you and Matt reached the top of the staircase, he turned, pulling you into him for the second time that night for a desperate kiss. This time, he leant down, taking the backs of your thighs in his hands with a tap that you knew meant ‘jump’. You obliged and within moments, you were being thrust into his dimly lit bedroom. He kicked the door closed with his foot, never breaking the kiss, and walked the two of you over to his bed, placing you down somewhat gently onto the brown satin sheets. 
“You’re so pretty, y’know that?” he said breathlessly, breaking the kiss to tear off his red sweatshirt. 
“I think you mentioned it once or twice” You replied, desperately clawing at the back of his neck to pull him back into you, your legs loose around his waist. 
“Such a smart-ass” he groaned, his hand suddenly gripping your throat as he pushed you back down onto his sheets, squeezing the sides of your neck. 
You moaned at the sensation, brows furrowing as your hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Matt chucked at your responsiveness, his hand trailing down your chest to toy with the hem of your top. 
“Can I take this off?” He asked, softly. 
“mhm” you nodded, desperately. 
“Words, angel, I need words” he halted his movements, his voice stern. 
“Yes, Matt, take it off, please”  The pleading in your tone evident, despite your attempt to be moody. 
“Begging already? I knew I’d like you” with that he pulled your top over your head and left you exposed in your lacy black bra, your hard nipples perking through the sheer fabric. 
“Fuck” Matt uttered under his breath, his large hands roaming around your nearly bare torso. 
He couldn’t help himself, he leant down, pulling the thin fabric from your tit and wrapped his mouth around your hardened nipple, grinding down onto your core as he did, chasing the friction. Your head rolled back at the feeling, and as if on instinct, your hips rolled against his. Matt trailed his kisses down your stomach, each one igniting a hot fire all over your skin. He hooked his fingers round the hem of your skirt, still trailing hot, wet kisses down your heaving torso. He looked up at you, being met with your pleading eyes staring down at him.
“Can I?” he tugged slightly at your skirt. 
“yes, please” you nodded frantically, lifting your hips up to aid him in removing the fabric that separated his mouth from your aching cunt. 
“Such a fast learner, such a good girl” he smiled as he pulled your skirt down over your knees, leaving you in nothing but your bra, fishnets and thin black panties. 
“Jesus christ” he said as he perched on his knees by the edge of the bed, “these are staying on” he said, caressing your legs with firm hands. 
He edged his hands further down towards your core, spreading your thighs apart for him as he lowered himself down, hooking your legs over his shoulders. As his hands reached where you ached for him the most, he pressed firm fingers across your pussy, rubbing upwards and finishing his movement with a short circle of both of his thumbs over your throbbing clit. With one quick motion, he ripped a hole in your fishnets, exposing your dripping cunt to him as your wetness seeped through the thin fabric of your thong. His eyes might as well have sparkled at the sight, 
“Look at that, tough girl, you’re all wet over me taking charge” he said, taking a finger and swiping it up the wetness that had collected  at the entrance to your pussy. 
You whimpered, bucking your hips once again at the stimulation, whining slightly in attempts to coax him into touching you properly. 
“I need to taste you, angel, can I?” he asked, like a boy begging to stay up to see Santa on christmas morning. 
“Yes, Matt, please, fuckin' hurry up already” you whine, desperate and aching for any sense of relief from this agonising feeling. 
He didn’t need any more permission, with a low hum (more like a fucking growl), he pulled your soaked panties to the side with vigour and latched his mouth around your clit. Your back arched off the bed immediately, his tongue sending sweet euphoria up your spine as it toyed with your sensitive bud. The moan that escaped you was pornographic, and it only egged him on further. He slipped his tongue into your entrance, lapping at the juices that seeped from your hole as his thumb found your clit, moving in slow circles over the sensitive bud. He moaned into your pussy, as if he was getting off on eating you out, the vibrations from his groaning only adding to the knot growing in your stomach. Your hands found his hair, tugging at the messy brown curls that covered his beautiful face as he devoured you. 
“Fuck, Matt, that feels so fucking good” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he moved once more to suck on your clit. 
His fingers swirled and prodded at your slick entrance, your walls nearly sucking him in as they clenched around nothing. He took your incessant moans as invitation to insert two long fingers all the way inside of you, curling up into that perfect gummy spot as he did. Your thighs clenched around his head, tensing and shaking as he brought you to the edge. He raised himself up slightly, pushing your legs apart with his forearms and pinning you down under his weight, his fingers relentlessly curling into you as he sucked and lapped at your clit, desperate to make you come undone all over his mouth. You tugged at his curls once more, earning a deep groan from him that vibrated around your clit and, that feeling, coupled with the warm pressure of his body weight on your thighs and his intense, animalistic eye contact, sent you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body shaking as you moaned his name over and over again, bucking your hips up into his face as he continued his pace, mercilessly lapping at your sopping pussy. You started to tether on the edge of overstimulation just as he pulled his mouth from you, his fingers still pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. You stared down at him with fluttery eyes, your fingers caressing his scalp as he helped you ride out your orgasm with a tender smile and tiny bites down the inside of your thigh. 
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet, the bed shifted under his weight as he brought himself up to hover over you. 
He traced the outline of your plump lips with the tip of his finger, asking for invitation. You obliged and opened your mouth, exposing a flat tongue to him. 
“Taste how sweet you are, angel. fuckin’ delicious” He said, placing his fingers on your tongue before edging them down your throat, watching intently as you gagged around them. 
He chuckled slightly at your submissiveness, pulling his fingers from your throat and trailing them down your chin. He placed a firm palm on the front of your neck and pulled you into a kiss, his face still wet from your cum. You whimpered into the kiss, frantic hands moving down in between you in attempts to unbutton his jeans. He smiled into the kiss and squeezed the sides of your throat with his fingers, bucking his hips into your hands as they freed him of the confines of the thick denim. He assisted you in pushing his jeans down his legs, not once breaking the kiss as he expertly shuffled them off and kicked them across the room. He crawled back on top of you and pushed you further up the bed, with one hand on the back of your thigh and the other round your neck, he hooked your leg over his waist and began to grind down into your sensitive core, the fabric of his black boxers giving just the right amount of friction between you. 
“Matt, I need you inside of me, now.” you whine, the demand sending shivers up Matts spine as he locked eyes with you. 
“What’s the magic word, pretty girl” He smirked, you rolled your eyes in response and brought your other leg to hook around his waist, your feet locking him in. 
“Please, matt” you reluctantly (you loved it) begged. 
“So good for me, angel” he smiled as your hands snaked their way into his boxers, palming his hard cock. 
Your eyes widened slightly at the size and he noticed, a sense of pride washing over him, “Bigger than you thought it would be?” he smirked.
 A wave of nervousness overcame you but you pushed it down, biting your lip and tightening your grip on his throbbing member, “I always knew you’d be huge, the quiet ones always are” you said, pumping him slowly. 
He couldn’t help but rut into your hand, his head falling into the curve of your neck as he palmed your tit, pinching at your hard nipple whilst his other hand left bruises on your thigh. Small whispers left his mouth and fell onto your skin, his warm breath only turning you on even more. You pushed his boxers down completely and he kicked them off, looking down at where you were attempting to line him up with your weeping entrance. 
“So needy, huh? tough girl? lemme help you angel” He pressed his tip against your folds and aided you in guiding himself into your slick walls. 
The feeling of him stretching you out made your back arch off the bed, your hands flying to the sheets for some sort of leverage. He chuckled slightly, slowly thrusting his leaking tip in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size inch by inch as he trailed soft kisses down your jaw and neck, biting every so often only to sooth the sting with his warm tongue. 
The feeling was euphoric, he was somehow keeping you between feeling completely satisfied and overstimulated all at once. 
“fuck, angel” he drew out, “y'so fuckin’ tight and m'not even half way in— Jesus christ- y'gonna be the death of me” he grunted, capturing your open mouth in a wet and tender kiss, his tongue pressed against yours as he thrusted into you completely, bottoming out. 
You both moan at the feeling, your legs tensed around his waist and your arms found home draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair. 
He pulled out of you almost entirely, still kissing you mercilessly before thrusting into you again, this time with a lot more force. You moaned into his mouth, tugging at his hair to counter the sting of your pussy, blissfully stretched out around him and aching for him to move faster. 
Matt broke the kiss, taking your jaw in his hand and squeezing your mouth open, he gathered a ball of spit in his mouth and lowered it towards yours. You caught it on your tongue and swallowed it with a smile as he watched in awe.
“You’re perfect” he uttered, leaning down to kiss your squished lips before releasing your jaw and earning another smile from you. 
With that, he set a relentless pace, fucking you into the bed with each hard thrust. You moaned out his name, pulling him in impossibly close to you with both your grip round his waist and your hands in his hair. His head fell next to yours, hot breath panting in your ear as he moaned and whimpered at the feeling of your slick walls clenching around him. 
“Fuck matt, you're so big, stretching me out s’much, oh my fucking god” you trail off, your words bouncing with every merciless thrust. 
“Take it angel, fuckin’ take it, I know you can” he panted into your ear, sucking on the lobe. 
He slowed his pace but fucked you harder, each thrust inciting a pornographic moan from your lips. 
“you sound s'good when you moan, so fuckin’ sexy” he groaned, pounding into you harder just to earn those beautiful whimpers from you. 
His tip formed a bulge in your lower stomach, poking out of you over and over again as he hit your g-spot, bringing you closer to the edge for the second time that night. You brought a hand up to his mouth, silently asking for permission to collect some spit from the pad of his tongue, he obliged, biting your fingers slightly before you pulled them from his mouth and placed them down between the two of you, rubbing fast circles over your clit. The stimulation made your walls clench around him, milking his painfully hard cock. 
“Fuck, oh my, fuck, keep doing that, pretty girl, keep touching yourself for me” his command comes out in a near whimper. 
“Matt, m'gonna— “ before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your thighs shaking around his waist as white hot tingles covered your entire body, you clenched your eyes shut and all you could see was stars as you came all over his dick. 
“You’re clenching me so hard right now angel, y'gonna make me cum, look at me pretty girl, please, let me see those pretty eyes” Matt rambled as his high was rapidly approaching, his pace quickening as his movements became sloppy, 
“cum inside me, please matt, I need it” you cried out, still reeling in the after shock of your crippling orgasm. 
With your pleading, he realised strings of warm cum inside you, coating your walls as he fucked his seed into you, riding out his orgasm, shaking and trying desperately not to buckle completely on top of you. 
He thrusted in and out a few more times before reluctantly pulling out, the cold air hitting his softening cock as he fell down next to you, immediately bringing you into his side and pulling at your limbs so you were lazily draped over him. 
You laid there, panting in each others arms, both trying to catch your breath as the sound of the party suddenly became more prominent from the other side of his bedroom door. “You” he said, still catching his breath, “are incredible.” He turned his head to look down at you.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Matthew” you smiled, bringing your finger to trace along his pink bottom lip. 
He watched as you admired the plump skin for a moment and with a smile, he bit the tip of your finger. You giggled and pulled your hand from his mouth, resting it on his now steady chest. 
“Can I see you again?” he asked, captivated by the way your face lights up when you laugh. 
“If you actually start coming to classes, you’ll see me all the time” you taunted him.
“Oh, I’m gonna have the best fuckin’ attendance in this whole college” he responded, pulling you fully on top of him. 
You squealed at the sudden movement and shifted to straddle his lap. You sat up, looking down at him as he tugged and needed at the flesh around your hips. 
“They’re all probably wondering where you are” you said, referring to the hoard of people in his home. 
“Fuck ‘em, they’re all losers anyway” he leant up closer to you, a sneaky hand came and wrapped itself around your neck, pulling you desperately close to his face.
“You’re much better company, tough girl” he whispered through a smile before capturing your mouth in a tender yet rough kiss.
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ghostofhyuck · 5 months
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NCT Dream and their "Oh." moment. 
Mark Lee ; when you're running towards him with a smile.
It was the autumn season in Korea. Mark was waiting by the park, just outside a coffee shop where you two agreed to meet. It didn't take a while for you to arrive, calling your boyfriend's name making him turn around. He was stunned. His mind went blank. Seeing you running towards him, smiling and looking pretty in your autumn clothes felt as if he was struck by cupid. "Oh." He realized. Because the moment you're standing in front of him had Mark's mind in haze. He doesn't know what to say, but all he knows is that he's lucky to have you. 
Huang Renjun ; when you take care of him because he was sick.
"You know you don't need to do this," Renjun said. You only looked at him, smiling as you lightly cup his cheeks. "But I want to." you said before leaving him to get something from the kitchen. Renjun stared at his ceiling. It was quiet and all his mind was blurry because one: he's sick. and two: you were willing to take care of him. He couldn't help but to let out a sigh. His cheeks are heating up and he wonders was it because of you or maybe he's just sick. But whatever it was, all he knows is that he doesn't want to let go of you. 
Lee Jeno ; when he had the best sleep next to you.
Jeno realized that it was morning when the sun peeked through the curtains of your windows. As he opens his eyes, not only was he blinded by the light, but also by the thought that he slept throughout the night. Lately, he's having sleepless nights, worries and anxiety hovering him and leaving him awake at night. This was the first time he probably felt at ease enough to sleep peacefully, and as he turns around and sees you still asleep, Jeno was in dazed. "Oh." he thought. Wanting more mornings where he wakes up next to you. 
Lee Donghyuck ; when you were laughing out loud because of him.
It was a group dinner and yet it seems like you and Haechan are in your own world. Haechan continued cracking jokes and commenting witty remarks about his co-members, and you couldn't help but to burst into laughter. You were laughing so hard that you could only hold onto Haechan as you tried to compose yourself. That's when Haechan unknowingly smiles, a proud grin because you were laughing because of him. He wants to see you and your gummy smile while your laughter is a music to his ears, and he wants it because of him. 
Na Jaemin ; when he thinks that this is a second chance.
You and your groupmates were supposed to meet for a project, but only Jaemin showed up. It was awkward since he's your ex-boyfriend. While waiting for the others, the rain suddenly poured. You were forced to seek shelter at the park's gazebo along with Jaemin. You were a bit wet when you two reached the gazebo. You couldn't help but to let out a sigh, because you're stranded with Jaemin. As you try to dry yourself Jaemin couldn't help but to steal glances at you. It's been a year and yet Jaemin can still feel his heart beating for you. He couldn't help but to touch your arms, you were startled, but Jaemin remained unfazed, thinking that this is another chance for him to correct everything. 
Zhong Chenle ; when you cried because of him.
Your tears never stopped when you reached the university's clinic. Chenle sat on the bed, but it is obvious that his situation is bad because his ankle is wrapped with bandage. You couldn't help but cry louder, witnessing how bad the injury Chenle had during the match. Chenle tries to laugh it off, but the moment he saw that you were crying because he wasn't taking care of himself, he couldn't help but feel guilty. He reaches for you and you gave him a bone-crushing hug. "Oh." he realized. He shouldn't make you worry anymore. 
Park Jisung ; when you disappeared for a day.
Twenty missed calls and almost fifty messages. It's been a day since you ghosted everyone. Jisung was worried about you. He knows how school's been shitty for you and with you being unresponsive, he couldn't help but to be concerned with you. What's his purpose if you couldn't lean onto him? He tried to look for you everywhere, you're not in your dorm or even in your friends' place. As Jisung ran around the campus area, his eyes catches a familiar figure by the field. It was late night and immediately, he rans. Jisung almost cried in joy to see you, then he started nagging you, telling you how worried he is and why did you suddenly disappeared!? You weren't able to answer because Jisung hugs you tightly, showing you that he wouldn't let you leave him again. 
1K notes · View notes
kteezy997 · 9 months
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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.
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Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!
As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.
It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.
You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.
These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.
.....
Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.
With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.
Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.
"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"
"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."
"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.
"No, I don't mind at all, sir."
Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."
"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."
"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.
“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”
“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.
“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.
He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.
You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.
“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”
Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”
He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.
“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.
“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”
“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”
“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.
You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.
You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.
“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.
You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.
“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"
“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.
“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.
You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.
He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”
“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”
“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”
He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”
You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.
“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”
“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”
“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.
Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”
“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.
He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”
“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.
A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.
He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”
“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”
You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.
“Are you alright, y/n?”
“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.
Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.
You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.
"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.
Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.
You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."
He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.
Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.
"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.
He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.
He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.
"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"
"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.
Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.
"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.
You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."
"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.
You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.
"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.
You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.
"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."
"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."
Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.
The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.
Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."
"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."
He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.
"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.
Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.
"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.
You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."
He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."
He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.
"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.
"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.
The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"
"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.
"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.
Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."
"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.
With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.
You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.
You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss
@chalametbich
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fastandcarlos · 2 months
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Hottest Date Ever : ̗̀➛ Fernando Alonso
summary: fernando can’t wait to tell you all about the best date of his life, even if you were also the best date of his life
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“Have you had a nice evening?” Fernando asked as he opened up the car door, extending his hand out for you to take. 
The smile on your face said it all as Fernando helped you out of the car. It had been the first date the two of you had managed to enjoy for weeks, and Fernando had made sure to pull out all the stops and remind you just how much you meant to him, despite how hectic his schedule had been with work. 
He’d whisked you away for dinner, at one of the most popular restaurants in the city, picking out a quiet table that overlooked the city. You were away from all the other diners, your attention was only on Fernando, and Fernando’s attention was only on you. 
To say you’d enjoyed yourself was an understatement, you couldn’t believe that Fernando had done all of that for you. You didn’t expect much, with Fernando only just arriving back after travelling for nearly twenty hours, but the exhaustion was worth it in order to be able to spend time with you again. 
As your date came to an end, Fernando knew that he’d have to reluctantly drive you back home. After so long apart, he didn’t want to say goodbye, but with a few days off ahead of him, Fernando knew that it wouldn’t be long before he was back by your side again. 
You were just as reluctant as Fernando was as you stepped out of the car, greeted by the chill of the autumn air that sent a shiver straight down your spine.  
“Watch your step,” Fernando instructed as he helped you up onto the curb, holding on whilst you found your keys. 
You smiled softly as he met your eyes, silently pleading with you to stay with him for a little while longer. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you chuckled, pressing a kiss against his lips. 
Fernando nodded as his hand slipped away from yours, watching your every step as you began to walk across to your front door. “Get home safe,” he joked, watching you turn back and roll your eyes at him, head shaking in disbelief at his remark. 
His smile was proud as you stopped, taking a couple of steps back towards him again. “I thought we said no more rubbish jokes,” you reminded him. Despite the scolding you tried to give him, the excitement in your voice told Fernando all that he needed, he’d successfully managed to make you smile once again. 
“Take another step towards me and I’ll have to take you back to mine for the night,” Fernando warned, secretly hoping that you’d take that step. 
“Goodnight Fernando,” you replied, waving back at him before spinning around and heading back in the direction of your home. 
“Goodnight my love,” Fernando called out, watching intently until you walked through the door and closed it behind you before getting back into his car. 
Your home felt quiet as soon as you walked in, feeling lost without a figure by your side. You turned on a couple of lights before heading into the living room. You glanced out to make sure that Fernando’s car had gone before making yourself comfortable on the sofa. 
There had barely been enough time for you to make yourself comfortable before your phone vibrated beside you. You scoffed at the name that appeared on the screen, throwing your head back in disbelief at the man trying to contact you once again. 
As funny as you found it, you couldn’t help but momentarily worry. Surely Fernando didn’t have time to get home, but he was already calling you. Had something happened? Was he in trouble? 
Your finger slid across to answer the call, “Nando, everything alright?” 
“Yeah, it’s all good,” Fernando smiled, throwing himself down onto the sofa in his own apartment, unaware that the position he was in matched yours perfectly. “I just had something really exciting that I couldn’t wait to tell you about any longer.” 
Anyone would be forgiven for thinking that you and Fernando hadn’t spoken in days. He still had the enthusiasm for being around you that he had at the start of your relationship. If anything, that need to be with you had only increased the longer your relationship went on. 
“I’ve just been on the best date ever.” 
A smile soon appeared on your face, making yourself comfortable. “The best date ever? It must’ve been a pretty good date to earn that title.” 
As he stretched out, Fernando could tell from your voice that you were smiling on the other end of the line. “It was with the most amazing girl; I hadn’t been able to see her for a while and I really missed her. We had the most beautiful dinner, it felt like we were in a movie.” 
You couldn’t help but hum in agreement with Fernando, although with him you always felt as if you were in a movie, unable to believe just how lucky you were sometimes. 
“I think I might ask her if she’s free tomorrow, the weather is supposed to be really nice so we can go for a nice picnic in the park,” Fernando added. “I’m happy to do anything with her though, just as long as I get to be around her then I’m already having the best time.” 
His words were the sweetest, leaving you speechless for a few moments. You weren’t quite sure how Fernando managed to do it, he just always seemed to know the right thing to say. He could wrap you around his little finger with his charm, not that you were ever complaining. 
“I bet she’d be happy to do anything with you too,” you noted, playing along with him. “She must be a very special girl for you to want to spend this much time with her.” 
“You’ve got no idea, she’s definitely the one I want to spend the rest of my life with,” Fernando suddenly admitted. 
“You mean that?” You suddenly asked. 
“I do,” Fernando responded, knowing that he’d taken you by surprise. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to drop everything to be with someone. I’ve never felt more confident about anything either, to be honest, I think I knew she was my forever since the very first date that we had together.” 
Your free hand covered your face, although Fernando couldn’t see you, the heat radiating from your cheeks was still enough to leave you a nervous mess on your sofa. 
“I can’t wait to just grow old with her and continue to make amazing memories with her,” Fernando admitted, “nothing is as important to me as she is right now.” 
“I’m sure that she feels the same way about you too,” you faintly whispered. 
“Do you think so?” Fernando smirked, feeling his own heart skip a couple of beats with excitement. “I just want her to know how happy she makes me; do you think she knows?” 
To say you were happy with Fernando was an understatement, no one had ever made you feel like he had. You knew you were his number one, his priority, his everything, after all, he reminded you every single day. 
“I know she does.” 
“I just hope she knows that she’s stuck with me,” Fernando chuckled, brushing a hand through his messy hair. “Do you think she’ll want to go out for that date at the park tomorrow? I’ve got some high standards to match if she’s to enjoy tomorrow as much as she enjoyed our date tonight.” 
“I know for a fact she wants to go on the date tomorrow.” 
“I best get texting her all the details then.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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jillsandwhichs · 2 months
Text
RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 3 , Crazy girl, even crazier husband
Masterlist
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Pairing: Fem!reader x Leon Kennedy
Summary: Your husband and you go to the movie theatre to watch a new horror movie but this man just can't keep his hands off of you
Status of your guy's relationship in this oneshot: Married
WC: 6.1k
Type: NSFW
Warnings: Zoowee mama there are so many, Making out, Fingering, Tongue licking, P in V, Sorta public sex ?? , No protection, Biting, He fucks you hard in an employee storage room so enjoy :p
A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you
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Window's rolled down, music on low, his hand on your thick thigh, your husband was driving you two to the move theatre in town. They were hosting some new random horror movie and the both of you thought it looked interesting, the idea to go on a date and watch it together randomly came up in a conversation last night. He's often times working so going out like this is rare, but whenever it happens, you absolutely cherish it, and so does he.
You could feel his fingers playing with the end of your skirt, occasionally gripping your thigh, his hand even leaving a mark. This is what he'd always do whenever he was driving and you were with him, he'd get you all riled up, all soaked up, and it's tortuous. The way his hand would slide up beneath your skirt was so painful, not literally, but he never even touched you, that made it painful. And half of the time, he doesn't even end up fucking you til way later or he doesn't at all. Such a man sometimes.
He wouldn't even acknowledge how horny you are either, he just knows, he loves making you feel all good inside just you leave you with nothing.
"We're almost there, by the way." You said softly, gazing out the window at the scenery outside. "Good to know, baby, thank you." Leon responded, his fingers trailing up her skirt again, just to simply not do shit. "Jesus Christ." You whispered underneath your breath, praying he wouldn't hear over the music. He was playing some song by Seether, it's all he ever listens to. You swear you know every song and every lyric by heart. Same with Hinder. This man and his early 2000s rock music, you swear.
The view on the way there was pleasant though. Mostly stores and other useless buildings but aside from that, you could spot tall & wide mountains in the distance. They're all able to be hiked too, you and Leon have done it before but in the summer heat, hell no. Luckily, it's autumn, no need to worry about that. Other than the mountains, the sky was gorgeous. That deep orange tint on the horizon was beautiful, it suited the night perfectly.
"What is this movie called again?" "It's called Smile, I don't know, looked creepy as hell." You spoke. "Yeah, yeah, the trailer was fucked." Leon snickered, one hand on the wheel still. "How much cash did you bring?" "Well, I brought my card, so a shit ton." Leon chuckled, "Using me for my money still, I see how it is." "What? You think there was another reason I married you?" You bit your lip, clearly, you were joking. He dug his nails into your thigh, causing your breath shutter. "Be quiet." He hummed, his teasing tone was deadly.
You couldn't help but let out a small giggle, he never fails to make you laugh. His humor is great, that's something you two bonded over immediately when you first met. You reminisce on that day often. Ever since, your life has been ultimately changed for the better. Leon was genuinely the light at the end of the tunnel for you, hopefully he feels the same way about you.
Just up a few more blocks was the movie theatre. This one is rather large, it was built more recently too. Only four years ago and it's held up well. When it was first built, you and Leon were still dating, now you're married, time flies by so quickly. The both of you have also been there a couple times before, about four times, each time was so nice. Leon really knows how to treat you. Every single date he takes you out on is special in it's on way. He's a miracle worker.
"Just up here." You whispered out, putting your phone in your little white purse that of course, Leon bought for you. He wasn't a poor man, rather wealthy. You don't know all too much about his job, he'd rather save the details, but from what you do know, he's a federal agent whose under the President, now that's saying something. And it all works out amazingly considering his love language is to spoil you with gifts, dates, travels, etc.. He truly never lets up on spending money on you.
"I know sweetheart." He leered, holding your thigh much more lightly now, his grip more gentle. "I'm praying they have sour patch kids." You snickered, Leon hummed at your comment. He's well aware it's your favorite candy... He's definitely spent hundreds on it. "Figured you'd say that." He snorted, pulling into the theatre parking lot. Surprisingly, it wasn't too packed. To your mental math, there was only ten or eleven vehicles, then again, it was a work night.
"Here we go." Leon grunted at he parked, taking the keys out of the ignition. "Grab my wallet for me, will ya doll?" "Yes babe." You replied, grabbing his wallet as you opened your car side door. Leon got out directly after, walking over to you. "Come here." He held his hand out. You handed him his wallet then grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it as you walked beside him. He was extremely tall, much taller than you. You were under 5'7, he was 6'2, you rather enjoyed the difference.
That instant hit of popcorn was glorious, it smelt like you'd just entered heaven. There was no one else in the lobby besides you and him, and obviously the workers. Not only did it smell so good, the decor was so retro, you loved the style of it. "I always forget how nice this place looks." You said in awe, loving the late '80s feel. "It is pretty." Leon huffed out before pulling his wallet out, "Go pick out whatever you'd like while I get out tickets." Your husband said deeply, pulling his card out.
You smirked at his words. You grabbed his arm and stood up your tippy toes to get to his ear, "Ask for popcorn please." You were sort of shy, you didn't wanna ask the employee yourself, plus you don't even have money to buy it, so. "I will, go on now." Leon chuckled as he then began to speak to the worker. You nodded, letting go of him and walking on over to the candy stand, they had a lot. But of course, your heart desired the sour patch kids the most, you grabbed them with haste.
You know Leon loves peanut M&Ms, he's always snacking on them, you grabbed a single pack of them for him as well. There was also some warheads in singular packaging, you grabbed ten, five for you and five for him, sour candy is your all time fav. You turned around, gazing over at Leon as he paid for you guy's tickets and the popcorn, you were excited for it. You were a foodie at heart, you could eat, and eat, and eat and never ever get tired of it. That's most likely why 80% of the dates you two go on are dinner dates.
Ambling back to your husband, you handed him the candy, your eyes locking on his. "Good, thank you." He smiled down at you, placing the sweets on the counter. "Good girl for getting my M&Ms." He whispered in your heart, his deep voice making your insides twist up like a pretzel, which was ironic due to the fact there were some in the hot food bar. "Heheh." You giggled, locking your arm with his, waiting on the popcorn.
"Your total is 16.20$." The woman behind the counter stated. Leon swiped his card through the machine, signing his signature too to verify the purchase. You grabbed the popcorn and Leon took your guy's candy, sliding the tickets into his back pocket. "Make it quick doll." Leon said from behind you as you began to butter it up. You loved the salty & savory popcorn, you'd drench it in that tangy yellow butter, but there is a point where it's too much.
Leon set his hands on your waist from behind you, his rough thumbs caressing the little sliver of skin showing from your shirt. You were wearing a tight shirt paired with your skirt, it had been awhile since the two of you went out so you thought it was cute. Despite only little bits of your hips showing, he still showed you he loved it. His nails lightly tickled at your midriff, watching you as you fixed up the food for the two of you. "All done?" "Done." You mumbled, turning around, his hands not moving though.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to your forehead gently before he then simply pressed his forehead against yours, "You're my everything." He hushly spoke. You were honestly caught of guard but maybe he was just in a lovey dovey mood...? "Love you too." You leered, kissing his lips swiftly, not wanting the employees to feel awkward. "C'mon baby, you know that ain't no kiss." He then gripped your chin, his lips settling upon yours for what felt like an eternity. You felt his tounge briskly swipe against your glossy lips, he could definitely taste the cherry.
He didn't go any further than that, pulling away after a few more seconds, "Let's go." He snickered, slipping his hand down your back as he lead you to the room. "You're so fucking crazy." You smacked his abs through his shirt. "Sorry, I just love you, is that so bad?" He acted sort of oblivious. Once again, he's such a man. "It's sooo bad." You dragged out your wording in a sarcastic manner, earning a titter from him. Making Leon laugh isn't too much of an accomplishment, he'll laugh at cat videos on the web.
"Just through here." Leon pushed the door open. The lights were still on too, proving the movie hasn't begun yet, luckily. There was only a couple other people in there, about five, they were all at the front. "Let's get in the back." Leon stated, gripping your hand firmly, "Why?" "Because I said so, be good and listen." He teased. You felt arousal stream over you when he said that, gosh, he's so good. You climbed up the stairs behind him, your hand still interlocked with his as you did so.
You two sat just a couple rows away from the very back, wanting to at least have a decent view of the massive screen. Leon sat down, then you did. "Here baby." You murmured, pulling the two ice cold water bottles from your purse. "Smooth criminal." He joked, taking his and placing it in it's holder. "Their drinks are more than their popcorn, it's ridiculous." You spat out, setting the popcorn in his lap. "Always making me hold it." "Mhm." You giggled. He glared at you, making your heart beat fast. You knew he was playing around but for odd enough reasons, it turns you the hell on.
You took the sour patch kids bag, ripping it out and setting it on the side of your leg, having it tucked between you and the seat. You'd save your warheads for later. "You gonna eat your candy?" "Maybe later, the popcorn is just fine for now." Leon assured you, taking a couple pieces in his mouth. Understandable. You ate a few pieces of your candy, the taste of them was immaculate, it could never get old.
-
After ten minutes or so of previews, trailers and commercials, the movie finally began. The lights went dark, setting the mood immensely. You could hardly see Leon's attractive face. "Finally." You uttered beneath your breath, taking some popcorn from his lap and eating it. The buttery, salty taste was too good, you practically moaned while eating it. The title card came on screen, the eerie noise playing in the background really suited the film from what you've seen.
At first, Leon wasn't paying too much attention to you, his eyes glued to the screen, he seemed to be into the movie so far. You tried to be, but that desirable burning feeling deep inside you wasn't doing you any justice. You could feel yourself pulsing, the mere thought of him had your panties soaked. He hasn't even done anything to crazy either, that's how good he is. He's such a dick sometimes. You can't even think about it, it makes you want him more. He can a man be so alluring?
As you snacked on your candy, you nearly lost your breath as you felt his hand slither onto your thigh, just as it was in the car earlier. Each one of his fingers caused an electric wave to course through you. The way they'd slightly lift off of your skin as they squeezed it, it was too much. You could feel as his pinky glided underneath your skirt, seemingly getting closer with his entire hand. "Movie is good so far, yeah?" Leon whispered to you, his hand going fully beneath your skirt now. Curse this man.
You didn't even reply, your body just simply reacted to his advances. You spread your legs open as much as you could in the tight chair, which wasn't too much but Leon definitely liked what you did considering he tightly gripped it, gaining a soft whimper out of you. "Look at how you responsive you are..." He murmured, not even glancing at you, making himself seem like he was just casually watching the film. At this point, you could care less about the fucking movie. You wanted his cock inside you. But maybe... His fingers would have to suffice.
"Finger me." You panted, looking at him, desperation plastered on your beautiful face. Leon didn't listen to your pleas, his pinky finger rubbing over your wet panties. That wasn't good enough, it never would be. You wanted him inside you, you wanted him to feel how wet you were for him. "Look how wet I am baby." You muttered. "Mmm, I can feel princess." He grunted, his entire hand planting itself onto your cunt through your undergarments, you whimpered quietly, needing to keep the act up.
"Please..." You gripped his arm. Leon sighed heavily, his eyes leaving the screen, his eyes locking on yours as he gandered down your body, taking the sight in. "So needy." He teased you. "You gonna stay quiet?" "Yes, I promise, please." You begged of your husband, your eyes never leaving his. "Don't make a single noise." He huffed out deeply, his voice husky. He pulled your dripping panties to the side, his index finger gliding through your wetness, causing you to sigh softly, not making a noise though. "Mmm." You murmured, resting your head against his fit arm.
His index finger continues to pick up your wetness, you could hear him sigh once more, "Fuck." He muttered, the sound of your sopping cunt was so fucking good to him. His fingers made their way to your nub, beginning to rub it with ease, a surge of pleasure bursting in your tummy as he did this. He made small yet fast circles on your clit, earning some subtle noises out of you ; Luckily, he didn't hear, the movie was starting to up itself in volume, good for you two.
"Does that feel good?" Leon purred out to you, his eyes shooting over to gaze at you, his eyes in a trance as he watched your face contort just by his touch. "Mhm." You moaned out hushly, your arms wrapped around his fit arm. "Good girl." He whispered, his fingers slapping your clit as they then went back down your slit, your wetness was practically dripping down your ass and onto the seat, sorry to the worker who'll have to clean your mess up...
His finger went all the way down before he then stuck it inside of you, your tightness grasping around it. Leon chuckled at how tight you were, you never fail to amaze him. He pumped his finger in & out of you, so moderately. "Gotta stay silent, remember that." Leon teased you, his thumb going to your clit, now fingering & rubbing you. This two in one deal was going to be the end of you. "Jesus..." You whimpered, your teeth sinking into his arm, causing him to only thrust his finger into you faster.
Your wetness was louder now, each time his finger went back into you, it sounded like a lemon being squeezed. You love biting Leon, he loves it too. One thing Leon especially loves is when he's fucking you, he's right on top of you, making you lose your sense of reality then you just bite down on his bulk shoulder. Gosh, he loves when you do that to him. His entire finger was drenched in your fluids, it was shining due to the bright lights emitting from the ginormous screen projector.
"Keep it quiet sweetheart." He whispered, a light snicker playing off his tongue. He was such an ass. He knows you can't be silent for much longer. He's bringing you closer and closer and closer to the edge. You fear if he keeps going at this rate, you'll cum and scream his name, like always. "It's so- so hard." You stuttered, your nails digging into his forearm fiercely. "Oh, you can do it." Leon praised you, he knows you can't.
As his singular finger continued it's work, you clenched around him even more as he slid another one in, this time curling each finger with every pump. No one in the theatre had noticed, surprisingly. All of them were mindless souls indulged in the film. You also really wanted to watch the movie, but fuck this was so much more needed than to watch some stupid horror flick. His thumb continued to rub your nub, the most sensitive nerve causing your brain to lose track of itself and your stomach to do flips like it's a gymnast.
"Leon... Baby..." You panted out, your hair getting messy from how much you've been tossing and turning your head. He didn't reply. His face was staring directly in front of him, acting all innocent, no one would suspect a thing... Yet he was finger fucking you, making your pussy clench around his fingers more tightly than ever before. His thumb was stroking your clit with pace, he was relentless on it. It was as if he was trying to gain a rise out of you and knowing him, he definitely was.
"Seriously." You whined, pressing your forehead against his upper arm. This man was going to be the fucking death of you.
"What is it?" He calmly said, still not looking at you whatsoever. "Fingers aren't enough, fuck me, I don't care about the stupid movie anymore." You said with an seductive tone. "Fingers aren't enough, huh?" He chortled as he began to finger fuck you at light speed. You instantly closed your legs, stopping all of his movements. "Don't." You squeaked, removing his hand from between your legs. Leon giggled, his hand gripping ahold of your cheeks sternly as he forced you to look up at him.
"You need me to fuck you?" "Yes baby, please." You mooched off your husband. You needed him and you need him at this current moment in time. "Well, where do you want to be fucked? In here? Where anyone could possibly see? In the restroom? In the car-?" "Let's find somewhere, please." You stated loud and clear, fixing your panties and skirt. Leon get go of your face. "Mmm, lead the way gorgeous." He held your hand, following behind you now. It felt powerful to take charge, to tell him this is what you want.
You both jogged down the stairs but acted as normal as possible, acting as if Leon wasn't just feeding into your dirty needs. Pushing open the wooden doors, you looked around and only saw a bathroom and other doors leading to another theatre area. Leon gripped your hand tighter, trying to indicate something to you. You spun around, looking back at the door behind you. "That's an employees only room!" "I doubt anyone is in here, c'mon." Leon laughed quietly.
He wrapped his hand around the knob, twisting it and pushing the door open. All that was in there was a table, some random movie posters and a counter, probably a type of break room. "Dammit, come here." Leon expired, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. He lessened the space between the two of you as he smashed his needy lips against yours, his moving against yours in a passionate make-out.
Your arms went to his shoulders, holding onto them with care as you set your entire body against his. There was absolutely no stopping between kisses, it was constant. Heavy breathing and kisses were all that could be heard. Leon's hands went from your hips and down to your ass, gripping it hard as he licked your bottom lip, so badly wanting entry. You, of course, granted him exactly that. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed your ass, slapping it too, he tried to keep it down though. This is technically illegal, so...
As you two made out sexually, he pushed you up against the wall, his hands still beneath your skirt, going from playing with your rear and pussy repeatedly. You'd randomly feel his fingers against your clit for short periods of time. Your nails scratched into his shoulders, you were so into this. Your sense of relief was this. He knew what to do and how to do it to you. Leon's tongue swiped against yours, his practically engulfing yours. He loves doing this.
You slightly stuck your tongue out mid kiss, Leon immediately jumped at the opportunity. He swiped his tounge along yours so deliberately, the sensual texture of it causing your pussy to literally drip more than it was before. Leon then grabbed your chin, tilting it to get a better angle. His entire tongue licked yours, then he wrapped his lips around it, suckling. Your moved your hands from his face and down to his waist, holding onto his shirt for what felt like dear life.
After sucking on your tounge for a few seconds, he pulled away swiftly, pecking you once more and now kissing down your precise jawline. You tipped your head back, allowing him to gain more access. His kisses were so slow and gentle, he really took his time. His heavy breathing was so sexy, it showed how much he needed you. He truly yearned for your presence, your touch, your everything. "You smell amazing." Leon breathed in, giving the end of your jawline a quick nibble. You giggled, kissing his cheek before going back to the same position as before.
Leon smooched down your throat, relishing in your perfume and it's enticing smell. "Mmm, what scent babygirl?" "Honestly..." You began, "I don't fucking know." You chuckled, earning a snicker from him. He licked from the top of your neck and all the way down, leaving a strip of saliva just there. He kissed all along the strip, you couldn't help but whimper, each kiss and every lick was to die for. You couldn't get enough of him. Leon groaned, his hands holding your ass - He couldn't get enough of you.
Making his way down to the middle of your neck, his hot breath sat on that same spot for a few moments before you felt that painfully pleasing feeling of his teeth lightly sinking into your skin. "Fuck." You moaned, your nails sunk into his slim waist. You felt his tongue going erratic on your neck as he continued to bite you. "Leon..." You soughed out, tilting your head to the side even further, wanting him to leave more love bites on you.
Heading you call his name, he pulled away from your neck, he gave you a fast peck before pressing his forehead against yours. "What's wrong sweetheart?" Leon panted, his right hand on the side of your neck where he was just feasting upon you seconds ago. "You make me feel so good." "Yeah?" "Make me feel even better." You whispered, your arms now encasing around his neck, embracing him closely. "Oh babygirl." Leon sighed out, caressing your neck carefully. "I'll make you feel just fine."
Your husband turned around, scanning the room. "Lay down on that table." He snickered, stepping away from you. "Okay..." You giggled, walking over to it. You pulled yourself up onto it, sitting with your feet dangling off. "Lay back baby." Leon hummed out to you, his voice soft. You obliged, laying all the way on your back, your legs bent upwards on the table. You angled your head so you'd be able to watch him. He unbuttoned his black pants, allowing them to drop along with his underwear, revealing his hard cock.
You bit your lip with a giggle. You get so giddy seeing him this way, he's so sexy. "Don't look at me like that." Leon chuckled, placing both of his hands on each one of your knees. "I'll look at you however I'd like." "Oh? Is that so?" "Mhm." You cockily mumbled, placing your feet on his chest. Leon's large hands wrapped around your ankles, rubbing them lovingly as he stared you down. His eyes were lustful, darkness bursting in his iris's. "Look at you." Leon whispered, taking both of your socks off, setting them to the side. "What?" You sighed deeply, your cunt pulsing at his cooing tone.
Bringing one of your feet up to his face, he placed a kiss on the side of it, then on the other one. You weren't into all that feet stuff, neither was he, but Leon will and does kiss you absolutely everywhere. He set your feet back down. Leon's hands went towards your waist, holding onto it firmly as he quickly pulled you down the table, earning a surprised gasp from you. "A warning next time?" You scoffed. "No." Leon responded sternly, being playful with you, per usual.
His fingers trailed up to your panties, locking them into the waistband of them. "I'm so wet." "I know honey, so wet for me, hm?" Leon whispered seductively, never breaking eye contact with you as he pulled your cute white panties all the way off, taking them off of your ankles afterwards. You spread your legs widely for him, the entire view of your core at his service. It was like he was trying to make it not look obvious, but it was so clear he was gazing at you down there. "So beautiful." Leon complimented you, you were his wife after all.
Grabbing his erection, Leon jerked it a couple times, maintaining eye contact with you, only breaking it for a tiny bit to look down at himself. "You have me fucking pulsing." Leon grunted, wasting no time as he swiped his dick through your wetness. You moaned, staring up at him, his tip would stroke over your clit and make your center have an even bigger heartbeat, that's how it felt at least. "I love how I make you get." Leon continued. "All wet, needy, clingy... You're so pretty." Leon shared, kissing your knee again.
You nodded in reply, he was right, he does manage to make you feel all of those ways. "Yeah..." You muttered out.
Without zero warning, you felt him plunge into you with haste, his entire length being grasped around your warm heat. You felt your stomach twist and turn when he did this, it gained a whimper from you, a rowdy one. "Holy shit." You panted out, like a dog on a hot summer day. "Can't wait any longer." Leon cackled, his hands on your hips as he started his movements. Each thrust was life altering. It felt like you were in Heaven with what he was doing. His mouth was sort of open, you could hear his quiet gasps, you were making him feel a type of way too.
You held onto his wrists for stability as he fucked you, his thrusts were causing the entire table to shake, you didn't want it to break or something. "What if a worker hears us? Sees us?" "Well, they'll see a woman being fucked real good by her husband." Leon replied. Could he ever not be snarky? You rolled your eyes, looking to the side, your face contorting as you felt his member reach deeper inside of you. "Don't roll your eyes at me, doll." Leon stated, his hands still on your midriff.
You never looked back at him, your eyes were stained on the other side of the room. Not that you didn't wanna look at him, you just know it'll make you cum sooner, and even make him as well, and you really want to draw this out. His cock moved in and out of you repeatedly, he switched up the pace every other second. One moment he was fast & rough and the other he took it slow & deep. Both ways made your heart beat faster and faster each time.
"Why aren't you looking at me?" Leon groaned out, his left hand groping your tit through your shirt, squeezing it. You didn't answer, you couldn't, you knew if you tried speaking your speech would only be slurred. "Look at me." You didn't listen. You just held onto his arms with more strength, indicating you were going to lose yourself sooner or later.
Although, next thing you know, he stopped thrusting into you. This ticked you off but before you could get a damn word out, you felt the hand that was once on your breast, now pulling your face to face him. "I suggest you start listening." Leon brought himself down closer to you, his body over yours. You nodded your head leisurely, licking your lip, then biting it. His demands were music to your ears. His movements picked up again, but he forced you to look at him. Something about staring down at you as he made you feel certain ways was so convincing.
After a minute, he let go of your face, trusting you'll listen to him now. His hands rested on either side of your head, his dick still surging into your pretty pussy. You felt like there was an imaginary percentage bar of how long it'll take before your orgasm implodes on you, and with each pump, it fills that bar slowly yet surely. "Fucking hell you're so beautiful." Leon moaned, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, his breath could be felt there. "You're so handsome." You added, your hand going up to his hair, playing with it.
You had a feeling he was going to do it, but once he did, it made your core tighten even more than before. His teeth once again made their way into your neck, he bit down on it. "Leon..." You grunted out, your fingers flowing through his soft hair. His thrusts were more slow & deep now, as if he was getting tired or something. It was either that or he was trying savour this special time together. "I'm gonna cum soon." You admitted, your arms going around his head, holding him close to your body.
Leon didn't say a word, he just nibbled on your throat, kissing & licking it every so often. That sharp sting of his teeth was erotic, it made your stomach get closer and closer to granting you that ultimate pleasure - your climax. "Baby... Harder..." You begged, letting go of him and instead grasping the white table underneath you. Once more, hit nibbled your neck, then your slender shoulders, before his face pulled back, going to stare at you again. "Harder?" Leon questioned, his moments all the same. "Yes, please." You tittered, your body so heated up.
Your husband did what he does best - please you. He began to fuck you, it wasn't anything vanilla, no, this was hard. Each thrust was rougher and rougher. Your eyes looked up into his, you could feel that they were watery, you looked innocent, like a doe in front of headlights. Leon looked back at you, his eyes much different. They are loving, yes, but also sexual desire was all behind them, his eyebrows also added onto the darkness of his face. "Don't look at me like that." The man grunted, closing his eyes as he pumped into your tight center.
"No, no, look at me, Leon." You reached up, holding onto his face. Now it was his turn. Leon slowly opened his eyes again, much more coherent than you were earlier. "Yeah..." You murmured, your hands caressing his scruffy cheeks.
Coming onto you was your orgasm, your initial release. You could feel how close you were, each thrust only brought you more and more to the edge. With his dick twitching inside you, you knew he was close to cumming as well. Your stomach was providing you with that all familiar feeling - The feeling of ultimate pleasure. Each time he fucked into you, your breasts would bounce, now that he was going much harder, they didn't get a break. Both of Leon's hands held onto your tits, he continuously squeezed them, he was like a teenage boy with how he was about boobs.
Leon gandered back up from your breasts and back at you, he never realized you were still staring at him. This, oh, it sent him over the edge. Your water colored eyes were like a death trap for him ; In this case, a sexual trap. "Fuck, why do you do this to me..." He grunted as he pumped only a couple more times into your cunt, his seed filling you, you felt the warm liquid shoot inside. "Why would you look at me like that?" Leon moaned, moving into you with short, fast thrusts, wanting to get you finished too.
You didn't reply, instead you just pulled his face down to yours, pressing your lips to his. Leon breathed out against your face, kissing you back passionately. You held the back of his head & neck, relishing in this moment. "Oh I love you." You moaned. "I love you too babygirl." He grunted, his cock still deep inside of you. "Cum for me princess." Leon began, "Have your pussy tighten around me." He stated, his voice husk.
Your breath shuttered when he spoke like that. He was so hot, every word he spoke made you feel all sorts of ways. You couldn't help it, even though you wanted to. You kept your lips against his, your tongue intertwined with his as you suctioned his length inside of you. Your orgasm withdrew you from the real world, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head, surprised you couldn't see your own damn brain. "That's what I like to see." Leon paused his movements, just admiring his wife as she came all around him.
Both of you just sat there, your body felt super limp, you could feel his cock was soft inside of you. Everytime you guy's finish making love, it's like this. It's like the two of you are at a loss for words. You were still wet, you definitely needed to clean yourself up. You looked around the room, analyzing it. There was a paper towel dispenser by the sink on the other side of the room. "Could you please grab me some of that." You asked your husband. "Sure thing." He sighed gently, pulling out of you and heading over there.
Leon snatched up a few pieces of the towel, bringing it over to you. He didn't hand you them, instead he cleaned you up himself. You just watched him, heaving softly whilst doing so. He was a great husband. "Thank you baby." "Course doll." Leon replied kissing your inner thigh before helping you get back on your feet. "I'm not wearing these." You giggled, setting your panties aside. "Give them to me." He held his hand out. You rolled your eyes playfully, giving him your soaked underwear.
Your eyes widened as he sniffed them, the scent wearing off of them drove him crazy. As he pulled his own pants back up, he tucked your panties into his pocket. "Don't move around to much, I don't need your ass or pussy being flashed to the world." Leon chuckled, adjusting your shirt, you nodded in reply. He was right. "Let's go finish whatever time we have left of the movie." Leon whispered to you, his hand on your cheek firmly as he kissed you once more before the both of you made way back.
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tyunphoria · 11 months
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🌪️not in my movie ! — b.chan
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- - - - -
⚠️NSFW CONTENT!⚠️
- - - - -
ghostface!bang chan x reader
SYNPNOSIS: just a fun game of cat and mouse till you fall in the lion’s den.
INCLUDES: AFAB reader, college!au, pet names, praise, ANGST and SMUTTT. Finding out he’s ghostface gee what a shocker, not proof read, rushed:p chan’s hella manipulative if you squint.
WARNINGS: threatening, mentions of death and murders, blood, slight degradation, fear play, slight dacryphilia, DOM!chan, p in v, oral (giving), fingering, hair pulling, uh tw just to make sure: non con that turns consensual, semi public not rlly?, UNPROTECTED SEX, mentions of vomiting.
[click here to read ghostface!hanjisung x reader.]
w.c: 4.5k
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The leaves were ablaze with autumn hue as y/n walked across the quad of her college campus. She breathed in the crisp autumn air, savouring the hint of bonfire smoke that indicated the fair was being set up. Y/n loved this time of the year. Students milled about between classes, backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups warming hands. Some douchebags would even take the liberty to scare their peers and professors while clad in a black robe and a ghostface mask.
Speaking of, your senior Chan just fell victim to one of the pranks and it was hilarious how you got to witness it first hand.
“I hate Halloween…” Chan grumbled as he fell into step beside you.
Your body buzzed with laughter as you handed him the book that slipped from his grasp. “Are you going to that fair tonight?” You ask. Chan makes an expression you couldn’t read, akin to contemplation tinged with mild distaste at the idea. You knew him well enough to read the thoughts flitting across his face — he was tempted by the promise of candy apples and haunted houses but also felt the pull of responsibility to study for his upcoming exam.
“Oh come on, Christopher.” You roll your eyes, “a few hours of fun won’t kill you.”
“Hard pass.” He said. He wasn’t one to back down to these types of things but he claimed that there was something about Halloween which gave him the ‘ick’. “And it’s not just that… Changbin lost a bet so now he’s gonna have to wear a playboy bunny costume to the fair. Think I wanna see that?” You laugh and shake your head, bidding him goodbye as you turn to enter your apartment until Chan stopped you once more by grabbing ahold of your arm.
“Y/n,” he says, his voice stern. “I’m being serious this time. Just… how about you just don’t go? It’s dangerous, especially how late it is at night. Who knows… maybe ghostface himself would show up uninvited.”
His warning sent goosebumps to rise on your skin, making the hair on your nape stand. You mask it with a light scoff. “Really, Chris? When are you gonna drop this ghostface shit. Dude’s been M.I.A for years, I think I’ll be fine.”
You try to pull away but his grip around your wrist tightens before you find yourself being pulled against his chest, hands holding your waist in place as he buries his face against your neck. “Be careful out there, yeah?”
Your hard gaze softens. “I will.”
- - - - -
“Y/n!” Felix beams as he captures you in a tight embrace.
“Jesus Christ, lix.” You gently pull away from the hug to examine his costume. “Elsa?”
“It’s cute, no?” He pouts. “Aya’s over there by the dart booth.” You nod at him gratefully, giving him one last hug before making your way to Aya.
“Hey bitch!” You grin. Aya bounces over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek, staining your skin with the bright red lipstick she wore.
“You wore the costume I bought you, let me see,” she twirls you around. “Hot, hot, okay, but babes that jacket has gotta go.”
“It’s cold!” You protest. “And my tits are practically out.”
Aya sighed in exasperation. “Halloween is the one year where a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” She quotes.
The fair was packed with hordes of costumed attendees, mostly college students from nearby universities. Your eyes widened as she took in the revealing outfits on display - girls in lingerie masquerading as "sexy cat" costumes, shirtless guys with lampshades on their heads.
"Is that chick only wearing a bra and a fucking g-string?" You murmured to Aya, who stood beside you nibbling on candy corn from a paper bag.
Aya followed her gaze to a scantily clad brunette in the distance. "Looks like it," she snorted.
"Thank god there are no kids around here tonight."
You said, finding the lack of children odd. Usually by 8pm, the fair would be swarming with kids getting high off of cotton candy and running around wildly.
"Yeah, the government placed a curfew," Aya explained after popping a few gummy worms into her mouth. "Didn't you hear?"
"A curfew? No, why?" You felt unease curl in your stomach. The last curfew had been years ago, when a killer in a mask murdered a group of teens.
Aya lowered her voice. "It's all over the news. Two days ago someone broke into this girl's house downtown. And then a bunch of people were found dead behind the HYBE office building."
Your brows furrowed. There's no way it could be Ghostface again, right? That killer had been caught years ago.
Chris’s words from this morning suddenly plagued your mind and it bothered you.
A theory was circulating online that there was more than one Ghostface. That a group of obsessed fans had taken up the killer mantle. Those amateur reddit detectives were digging far deeper than the useless ass police.
What if Chan had been right? Unease bloomed in your chest as you glanced around the fair.
Aya takes notes of her expression, attempting to lighten the mood by shoving some cotton candy in your mouth.
“Stop worrying. Let’s go ride the roller coaster and eat candy till we fucking barf!”
- - - - -
“Oh, fuck me, I’m gonna—“ Aya bends over the railing and hurled.
Your cheeks tint in embarrassment, an awkward smile on your lips as you pat her back, trying to ignore the disgusted looks both of you were receiving.
“Bitch you gotta go on without me,” she slumps against a nearby bench, chugging down a can of beer to wash off the vile taste.
“What!” You frown, “but the haunted house, you promised!” You tugged on her arm but she doesn’t budge. “Tsk, fine, I’ll go without you then.”
They built a new attraction that the place has been working on for years but it just now opened up today. It was a big haunted mansion. You wondered why it took so long for them to open it up, but you found out not too long ago that they didn’t hire any scare actors for this attraction, they were all animatronics.
You see your friend by the entrance, collecting tickets and admitting people in.
"Hyunjin!" you exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up your face as you spotted your friend stationed at the entrance, diligently collecting tickets and admitting people in. "I didn’t know your ass worked here."
The blond returned your smile and motioned for three more people to enter before making his way over to you. "Yeah, I actually wanted to take today off, but they were in desperate need of extra staff. I was looking forward to spending the night with my girlfriend too." he replied with a small sigh. "Surprisingly, it's even more crowded than last year. You'd think people would stay home, given the murder incident that happened at HYBE."
You crossed your arms. You really didn’t wanna think about that right now. casting a quick glance down at your heels, momentarily distracted by the discomfort throbbing in your feet. "I shouldn't have worn these," you gesture to your heels.
Something crossed Hyunjin’s face as his expression went blank. “It’s gonna bitch to run in those if that fucker catches you.”
You gape at him. Who the fuck says something like that so casually?
“Sorry,” Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s part of my script.” Oh right… yeah, of course, it being halloween and him working at a horror attraction explains it.
“Oh, it’s your turn, y/n. You going in alone?” He asks. You glance behind you past the long line of teenagers to spot your friend Aya flirting with some guy. You grunt. “Yeah. Just me.”
Hyunjin smiles, taking your ticket and opening up the doors for you. “Enjoy.” He puts it simply, closing the doors behind you.
Hyunjin glances at the rest of the people in the line, the smile falling from his face as he makes his announcement which results in a chorus of groans.
“Okay everyone! Haunted mansion’s closed for tonight.”
- - - - -
As you ventured further into the haunted mansion, the path guided you through a dimly lit corridor. The flickering candles along the walls cast eerie shadows, whispering secrets in the air.
"for something that took years to make, this is pretty boring," you muttered, your disappointment evident in your voice. The first half of the experience was extremely underwhelming. The animatronics were, at least. But as you stepped into the next room, your boredom quickly turned to awe.
Inside, the place was straight out of a Gothic horror story. The Victorian aesthetic engulfed you, transporting as if you were entering dracula’s house or some shit.
As you continued, animatronic figures lurched and screeched, attempting to startle you with their mechanical movements and eerie sounds. But let's be real, they were more comical than terrifying. Their jerky motions and predictable jump scares only elicited laughter instead of fear..
You couldn't help but chuckle, finding amusement in their exaggerated gestures and obvious gimmicks. It became a game to anticipate their predictable moves, mocking their feeble attempts at fright.
The vibe itself was pretty spooky.
The thing that genuinely terrified you was the sudden ear-piercing scream cutting through the air.
Was that from outside? You couldn’t tell. There weren’t any windows. Maybe it just came from one of the speakers.
How long has it been, seven minutes maybe? Well, for one the place was huge and you took up most of the time taking pictures of the place and messing with the bots.
Startled by the crashing sound of the picture frame hitting the floor, you couldn't help but leap in surprise. As your racing heart gradually settled, you cautiously rounded the corner, only to find yourself confronted with a seemingly endless maze of hallways. The disorienting sight added to your growing sense of unease.
Just as you began to collect your thoughts, your hand-held phone abruptly buzzed, causing you to jump once more. The unexpected vibration sent a jolt through your system, making you exclaim, "Jesus—fuck!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you pressed a trembling hand against your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart.
Assuming it was Aya, you braced yourself for a string of impatient requests to hurry up and drive her home. However, to your surprise, the incoming text displayed an unknown number. Curiosity mingled with a tinge of annoyance as you read the message that flashed on your screen: "
“Let’s play a game:)”
Your heart rate quickened in response, you weren't in the mood for pranks, you grumbled and decided to power off your phone, hoping to put an end to the unsettling message.
Your phone buzzed again.
With a mix of frustration and apprehension, you reluctantly picked up your phone and saw another message from the same unknown number: "Don't fucking ignore me, l/n." The words sent a shiver down your spine.
Reluctantly, you type back, your fingers trembling on the keyboard.
"Who are you?" you ask, your anxiety building with each passing moment.
The chat bubbles appear on the screen, filled with an unsettling anticipation. The silence hangs heavy, broken only by the rapid beating of your heart.
"Let's play," the mysterious person replies.
Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can't help but snap in response. "Look asshole, I don't have time for this," you retort, your patience wearing thin.
A pause follows, and then their next message appears, sending a chill down your spine. "I'm sure you do if your life depends on it," they jeer, their words laced with a sinister edge.
Confusion and fear intertwine within you, clouding your thoughts. Their cryptic statements leave you bewildered, struggling to grasp their true intentions.
Suddenly, a notification pops up, revealing an incoming image. With trembling hands, you open it, only to be met with a horrifying sight—Hyunjin covered in blood, and Aya who looked lifeless leaned up against a pole.
A scream escapes your lips as you drop your phone, shock coursing through your veins. Trembling, you gather the courage to pick up the device again, your mind racing with terror and desperation.
With a renewed sense of horror, you read the next message: "Don't worry, darling. They’re not dead yet. If you can be a good girl for me, I may just spare them."
Each word intensifies your panic, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.
“Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want.”
The tears streaming down your face are uncontrollable, having to hold the wall for support so your legs didn’t give up on you.
“Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” It writes. “I’m giving you two minutes to hide. If I find you by the time it strikes 12,” then they stopped typing. Seconds felt like hours as you waited. “Let’s just say they don’t get to see another day. As for you, things won’t get pretty so make sure to hide well:)”
It’s a little after 11:40, so you only have twenty minutes till the game is over. You assume that the timer for the duration you had to hide already started so you wasted no time to break into a sprint.
The game seemed simple enough. All you needed to do was hide for fifteen more minutes and you were golden! Besides, it’s a pretty big mansion. You’re confident that it’ll take them hours to find you.
- - - - -
Two more minutes.
There were only two minutes left.
You sink down against the wall, pulling your legs close to your chest. Thoughts of Chris flood your mind. You imagine how he might be doing, picturing the moment when all of this would be over and you could finally return home. The image of him standing before you, his dimpled smile breaking through, teasingly claiming that going to the fair wasn't such a great idea after all, tugs at the corners of your lips and brings a glimmer of warmth to your heart.
"I told you so!" he would tease, his voice filled with both amusement and genuine concern. But deep down, you know that Chan would be consumed with worry for your well-being and safety. You already imagine him scolding you, all while showering you with hugs and gifts to make you feel better. As his junior, his guidance and advice always carried weight, and you never missed an opportunity to listen to his words.
You find yourself sinking deeper into the memories, recalling how Chan had always been so understanding. Whenever the principal's wrath came crashing down, he was there, standing by your side, ready to defend you with unwavering loyalty. And when the storms of heartbreak or failed hook-ups battered your heart, Chris, was there to console you in ways that went beyond words. It was as if you were a treasured princess in his eyes, deserving of nothing but the utmost care and tenderness.
But right now wasn’t exactly the best time to dwell on your fat crush on him.
Like, yes, sure you guys fucked one or twice before but they meant nothing. It was just a way to relieve frustrations with zero strings attached.
His warmth, his voice… his hands that touch you in all the right places.
You’re definitely gonna miss it if you die in this hell hole.
“What's on your pretty little mind that’s got you thinking so deeply, princess?”
You gasp and quickly shoot up to a sprint until your front is pushed up against a wall, feeling someone’s weight pressed against you along with a cold blade poking against your throat.
“I found youuuu,” he taunts.
The man wearing a ghostface mask chuckled as he pressed the knife more into your neck, enough to make a small cut. You wince and groan in pain. The situation is almost laughable, finding it somewhat cliché with the way you’re about to die.
“Fucking… let me go,”
“But princess, I won didn’t I? We had a deal.”
“Fine! You win! Just kill me already then, why drag longer?”
You squirm around to possibly irk him more to speed up the process but as you do, the further your backside gets pushed into his hard on making him groan into your left ear. “But what’s the fun in killing you right away. I’m here to claim my prize.”
Your eyes widen, realizing what his intentions were now.
An idea popped in your head. If you just played along for a few more, you can distract him and make a beeline for the exit.
A laugh slips past your lips. “What’s this? I didn’t expect mister ghostface to be such a perv.” You rub your ass against the tent of his sweats eliciting a strained grunt from the man behind you.
He drops the knife, closing your throat with his fist, bringing your head back. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”
You squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his gloved hand cupping your sensitive pussy. Slick begins to stain your lacy red panties as he hummed and dragged his middle finger along your slit. You gasp out in surprise, “don’t do that…”
“Oh? But you were rubbing against me not too long ago like a little slut, what happened to that confidence?” He reaches down further and gently parts the lips of your vulva before gently circling your entrance.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” Your eyes flutter open at his words. You both have already gone this far, why stop now? If you told him to stop, would it just prompt him to kill you? You wanted to atleast see Chris before you died… Well, he asked for permission at least so that was good… fuck it, what about this situation was considered good in the first place? Played with your feelings using fear and dread and now he has you pressed up against the wall with his hand down your underwear.
It was a bit of a turn on.
“Why don’t you kiss my ass and fuck me already.”
You couldn’t see his face but you knew from the tone of his voice that he was grinning, “Good choice.” You were wet and waiting, so he slips a finger inside, thumb circling your clit. You moan, back arching. He adds another finger and pumps his fingers, adjusting the pace while you fall apart in his arms. Your sighs and moans, the way your body responds to him. He hooks his fingers as he circles your clit, rewarded with a moan that sounds suspiciously like calling on the gods.
You tighten around his fingers as you cum, your cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment, with your lipstick smudged from his fingers stuffing your throat full. He strokes you through your orgasm, a beautiful sight to see you undone like this, having to fight the urge to rio off his mask and kiss you.
“Did that feel good, princess?”
“Don’t… call me that.”
“What’s wrong? Do you like being called derogatory names instead?”
Your cheeks flushed. “No! I just… only he can call me princess…”
Ghostface went quiet as he stilled momentarily. He takes his fingers out. “Is that so..” his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but shy away by hiding your face. Your body was jerked around, forcing you to face him as he squished your cheeks together roughly.
“Open your eyes.”
You shake your head. He moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair making you moan out in surprise.
“Your mask scares me!” You cried out. Staring back at the two blank eyes of the costume while getting fucked isn’t exactly ideal.
“Then I’ll take it off.”
He’s bluffing. Cause there’s no way in hell — this dude’s gotta be bluffing. “You’d do that?”
“For you I would.”
‘Yeah. If you could just take off your mask so I could report you to the police when I’m outta here that’d be great.’
But you’d wish you told him to keep his mask on instead. You would’ve rather preferred that.
“Chris?”
He cradled your face in his hand. “Why do you look so sad, princess? Not what you were expecting?” All you could do was cry. You were confused. You felt betrayed. You wanted nothing more than to shove him away but also melt against the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his hands that once brought you comfort. “Shh… shh, don’t cry.” Chan leans in and kisses away your tears.
“Why?” You hiccuped.
“I didn’t want you finding out. I never meant for this to happen.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hell, y/n, I didn’t want you getting roped into this mess but you drive me fucking insane.
I won’t kill you, I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m sorry if you had to find out this way—“
You swallow his next words with a kiss. You didn’t want to listen to his words anymore. You didn’t care if it’s an excuse, you didn’t care if it was a lie, you didn’t care about anything as long as it was him.
“Save it. Whatever lame ass excuse you’re about to come up with, I forgive you.” This catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, “I’m tired and my pussy’s throbbing so let’s hurry and wrap this up.”
He grinned, urging to your knees. He gave your cheek a rough couple pats as he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open.” You part your lips and with little to no warning, he shoves his fingers down your throat. With his other hand, he pulled his sweats and briefs halfway down his toned thighs. He rubbed your spit around the length of his dick, giving it a few strokes before tracing the tip against your lips.
You poke your tongue out just to get a little taste of him making Chris visibly shudder. He groans before pushing the tip past your lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and his hand immediately found its way on the back of your head. “Yeah… fuck, just like that…” you wrapped both of your hands around his length and worked quick pumps around the head while the other worked its way along the base.
He felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking his balls. “You look so pretty like this,” he urged himself back into your mouth. “And who do you belong to?”
“You.” You moan. “I’m all yours, Channie.”
That was all the confirmation he needed before he began to brutally fuck your little throat. Your dress had ridden up gave it the liberty to press the tip of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. As he ruthlessly fucked your throat and the laces of his converse rubbed deliciously against uour clit the stimulation was beyond amazing. After holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for what seemed like eternity, he finally let you get some air, removing yourself from his dick with a sloppy pop.
“Come here, pretty princess. Wanna cum inside of you…” he was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed you back up against the wall. Your answering smile is a smug thing, as if you’re proud of the effect you had on him. He kisses you then, groaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. Chan gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease. He was gentle and slow, despite the circumstances you were thrown into. He rips your panties in half trying to get them off, drowning out your protests with a slight chuckle. “I’ll buy you new one’s.” He shoves your panties in his pocket before swiping his tip against your wet folds. “Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move. The rhythm is slow at first, your fingers pulling him closer, as if you could eliminate all space between the both of you. Your hips meet his every thrust as they move together at a languid pace, as if they have all the time in the world.
He can feel the way your heart races, the rush of blood in your veins. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips as he thrusts into you, hoping to balance out the sensation of pain and pleasure. His face hovers over yours, breaths mingling. “Can you hear how wet you are?” He grunts, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. You moan loudly, back arching against the wall when you felt chan begin to suck at your tits over the thin material of your dress.
“Been wanting to fuck you for so long… seeing you walk around all night looking dolled up, I felt so jealous.”
He pounds mercilessly into your poor pussy, salty tears beginning to run down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. “You're so gorgeous… wanna make you all mine — fuck,” he moans. “You’re so naughty… I told you not to go, didn’t I?”
“Channniiieee…. I’m gonna,” you whimper, whining against his lips. “I’m cumming… oh fuck, I’m cumming…”
“so cute…” he cooed. “You disobeyed me, and look at where we’re at now.”
You tangle your fingers in his hair as you orgasm followed by a shudder.
What sounded like footsteps that were approaching closer and closer catches you off guard and it seemed to have a similar effect on him as well.
Sticking to your plan from earlier, you shove him off of you while he’s distracted trying to figure out who could be approaching and make a beeline for the exit. His back hits a table, eyes widening.
“Love you Channie!” You grinned and before he could grab you, you shut the two heavy metal doors in front of him.
He grumbled, pulling his pants back on and opening the door only to be met with a ghostface mask staring right back at him.
“Hey,” Jisung says as he rips the mask off him.
“The van’s parked outside, the other’s have been waiting for twenty fucking minutes.” He says but he only received a glare from his leader. “You look pissed. What the hell happened this time?”
“Change of plans,” Chan says as he picks up his knife and mask from the floor. “You guys go on ahead without me.”
“What?” Jisung scoffed. “You can’t just do that at the last minute. Look, we’ve been planning this shit for years, you can’t just back down ‘cause you can’t control your dick. The police are already on their way, and—!” Chan throws his knife, missing Han by a hair as it pierces through the portrait behind him. Han felt his breathing stop for a quick second.
“You had your fair share of fucking with your slut, so pipe down.”
Jisung glowered, hand tightening around the handle of his gun. “Don’t fucking call her that.” He says, but he knew better than to get into an argument with his boss.
“I’ll meet you guys tomorrow.” Chan slips his mask back on.
“I’m gonna go claim back what’s mine.”
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a.n: ruh roh, alpha wolf chan is mad cs he didnt get to orgasm😕😕
and yall i get it, you want more skz ghostface content, im getting there okay😭
also pls lmk if you want me to make anime fics too, all ive been posting about are skz dhisbsje i can write genshin too. P.s all ghostface aus r connected, hyunjin is next methinks
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aphrogeneias · 7 months
Text
𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 — 𝒂 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: during a quiet afternoon, you and eddie discuss (hypothetical) wedding songs.
author's note: it feels right to repost this the day before valentine's. i hope you all have, or someday find, a love that makes you feel the same way i do when i listen to the song referenced in this story <3
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"Have you ever thought about what song you're gonna want to play at your wedding?"
You were both sitting at the old brown couch of the Munson's front porch, the afternoon breeze blowing through the unusually quiet Trailer Park. There were no dogs barking, no kids running, no yelling coming from a neighbor's trailer. Only the sun, the late autumn chill, and the gentle breeze.
Eddie was lying down, his head on top of your crossed legs as you played with his hair. Your question caught him off-guard, looking up at you with raised eyebrows.
"You mean at our wedding?"
He could tell you were flustered by the way you hesitated to answer, brows furrowing, trying to disguise it. The urge to lift himself up and give you a smacking kiss on the forehead was temporarily buried inside, waiting to hear what you had to say. "I don't know. Like, a hypothetical wedding. With a hypothetical bride."
His answer was earnest, though.
"The only bride that's ever come to mind is you, babe."
"Just answer the damn question!" You exclaimed, rising both of your hands in the air.
"I just told you I don't know! I've never thought about getting hitched, never mind what song I'd want to play at the ceremony."
This bit was earnest as well. Eddie had never, in his twenty years, thought about getting married. His parents' disaster of a relationship made sure that he'd never seen marriage as something healthy, let alone an option. There were also his beliefs that marriage was a failed institution made to subjugate people, and that the church and the state shouldn't have a say in people's relationships.
Eddie thought he'd be like Wayne and live his life without a partner, just go through with it by himself. It was much less complicated, even if lonely.
He was seldom lonely now, with you in his life — and though you were way too early in your relationship, or too young and inexperienced, to think about marriage, if he was to think about it, it would be with you. Every one of his other thoughts ran to you, this one would be no different.
"Not the ceremony. A first dance kind of song, you know?"
He considered a few options for a moment, in silence, but he was still curious to know what you were thinking. "If you're asking me that question, that means that you already know yours, don't you?"
"You don't know that. I'm just asking." You shrugged, lowering your voice, suddenly vulnerable. "Forget what I said."
"Sweetheart…" Eddie laid fully on his back, looking up at you. "Tell me what's the song."
Narrowing your eyes at him from above, you grabbed his chin, squishing his lips for a second. "You're gonna laugh at me."
"When have I ever…" Remembering all the times, in the early days of your blossoming friendship, where he followed you around the record store with the sole purpose of laughing at your music choices, he stopped, scoffing at himself. "Don't answer that."
Gently, you pushed him off of you and stood up, silently going into the house.
"Just tell me! Now I want to know." Eddie protested as he followed you inside.
He watched as you went into his room, bent down at the waist — and what a view that was, he thought to himself, not trusting to make a lewd comment to distract you from the moment — and quickly looked through his records, finally pulling one from the crate.
Trying to think of what it could be, because he had no idea what song in his large collection of tapes and long plays could possibly be enough of your taste to be played at your (hypothetical) wedding. When he saw it, though, it clicked.
It was a copy of The Beatles' "Revolver". His only copy of an album by your favorite band. You had gifted it to him after he told you he found the experimentation, and all the drug references, in it "badass". He really did, and he was happy to own it as long as it made you happy.
Still silent, you put it in the record player above his dresser, and selected a track without looking at the listing in the back cover, most likely commiting each one of them to memory. His heart swelled as he watched you turn around, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, struggling to meet his eyes as the song started.
"To lead a better life
I need my love to be here…"
Paul McCartney's voice and the two-voice harmony that accompanied him was the only thing that could be heard in his bedroom for a moment, until you started explaining yourself.
"When I was younger, sometimes… Actually, I still do that…" you started, "I listen to this song when I'm alone, and I feel like swaying to it. Like I'm slow dancing with someone, you know? Two steps to the left, two steps to the right." You did a little dancing motion, lightening up the mood. "It's the perfect song to dance to, but I'd never had a partner to dance with me. So I'd dream about it, about the day I'd have someone who'd love me enough to dance with me."
Your sad smile broke his heart, but what put it together was knowing he could be the one to dance with you.
"It's such a simple song, really. Just a guitar and the vocal harmonies, but it's… it's beautiful. Makes me feel like I'm floating, or something." You continued.
Eddie approached you, then, pulling you forward by both of your hands and making you stand flush to his chest, where he held you by the waist with one arm, the other raising to hold the hand that wasn't resting on his shoulder.
"I'm not much of a dancer, but I'll dance to any song you want to."
It was a murmur, a promise whispered by his lips touching your hairline. You chuckled, your head resting on his collarbone, and began swaying the two of you just as you said before. Two steps to the left, two to the right.
Eddie added his own flair, spinning you around, and it was worth it just to see the you giggled. The song wasn't long, a little over two minutes long, but it was long enough to trap you in your little world, your hypothetical wedding dance, in his very real, very messy bedroom.
"So… is that our wedding song?" He teased, still holding you, after it was over.
You slapped his arm lightly, but he could feel you smiling against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "It could be."
"I like it, baby."
Then, you look up, wrapping your arms around his lean waist. "Really?"
"I like whatever makes you feel like you're floating."
"Do you wanna know what else makes me feel like that?"
"Weed?"
"You."
At that moment, Eddie still knew he didn't want the church or the state to be involved in your relationship, but he wouldn't mind throwing a party just to make the most beautiful girl in the world float around the room for one night.
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marvelsmylife · 7 months
Text
Not As It Seems
Pairing: Rhysand x reader 
Plot: to outsiders they see your life is perfect. Being mated to one of the most powerful high lords and named high lady of the night court everyone thought you were happy (including your mate). What happens when the mask you’ve been wearing finally falls and Rhysand discovers what’s been troubling his darling mate.
a/n This is based on this request. Let me know if you want a part two where Rhysand confronts the person responsible for his mate's suffering.
Part Two
ACOTAR Masterlist
Prompt List
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If someone had told you when you were younger that you would be mated with the high lord of the night court and given the title of high lady you would’ve laughed in their faces. Yet here you were, living every female’s (and some males) dream of being mated to Rhysand.
You met Rhysand one cold autumn morning. You had arrived at your job two hours ago at your bakery when Rhysand strolled in and requested one of every pastry you had for sale. You gave him a puzzled look and asked if he was sure: “Of course I’m sure. I could smell your delicious pastries a few blocks away,” Rhysand responded with a warm smile on his face.
A shy smile crept up on your face at Rhysand’s compliment. While you were used to everyone always complimenting you on your pastries, having your high lord compliment you made you go shy. “I’m flattered,” you sheepishly said while carefully placing the treats in the box.
A surprising look appeared on Rhysand’s face when took the box from your hands and took in your appearance. Mate Rhysand mentally told himself when he realized you were the female he had been dreaming about for as long as he could remember.
Not wanting to scare you off, Rhysand settled with simply asking you out to dinner before slowly revealing that you were mates.
He was grateful he did that. You built your relationship organically, and when he finally confessed that you were mates, instead of resenting him for hiding such a secret, you kissed him and told him how happy you were that you were mates. 
There was only one problem in your relationship, you rarely talked about your family and what you were like growing up. Every time he tried to pry into your past or family, you would always charge the subject or ask him to drop it. He was tempted sometimes to slither into your mind and see what was so bad about your childhood that you refused to talk to him about. 
He didn’t though.
He knew you would resent him if he invaded your privacy in that way just to get an answer. Instead, he’d change the subject to something more pleasant.
It’s not that you didn’t want to tell Rhysand about your childhood. To people who didn’t know you personally, they thought you had a great childhood. But the people who truly knew you knew that was the farthest thing from the truth.
While you were still in contact with your mother, your relationship with her was complicated, to say the least. Growing up, your mother would display all the signs of a narcissistic parent. Always finding a way to make your accomplishments hers and insult you when you did something minutely wrong.
It got worse when you were an adult and opened the bakery you still operated. She didn’t ask; she demanded that you give her half of your earnings from the bakery to make up for raising you. You foolishly agreed to her demand even though you were barely making enough to support yourself when you met Rhysand.
Once you had your mating ceremony, Rhysand would beg you to stop working because he had more than enough and then some to support you, but you rejected him each time. You didn’t want to put the burden of supporting your mother on Rhysand, so you told him you just loved your work too much to close it.
Because you were under so much stress with not only running your bakery by yourself but also doing the duties a high lady is supposed to do, you found yourself stretching yourself thin. You couldn’t find a moment in your day to just sit and relax, and when you did, it was only for a few minutes.
Unfortunately, that manifested into you not wanting to do anything during the days you actually managed to get off and started developing depression episodes.
You didn’t want anyone to know you were silently suffering, especially Rhysand’s. He had so much on his plate, and you didn’t want to add to his worries. So you’d force a smile so no one would know; know that you were silently fighting with your mother because she was growing more entitled to your money. Your mental shield was always up and so guarded; not even Rhysand could penetrate it.
You finally hit your breaking point one afternoon when your mother stopped by your bakery and demanded that you tell Rhysand he needed to start paying her money as well. In her words: “His money is your money, and your money is my money.”
Not being able to contain your anger towards your mother, you unleash all the frustration you have had towards her for the past three centuries. By the end of it, your mother dared to slap you across the face and growled: “You ungrateful child! You would have nothing if it wasn’t for me! I should have been Rhysand’s mate so I could have that fortune you have, not you. But seeing as you are his mate, I’m expecting you to give me his money by the end of the week,” before storming out of the bakery and disappearing into the streets of Velaris.
You didn’t know how you managed to get home, but when you did, you had the inner circle panicked with the state you were in. “Y/n. Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Mor asked, worry laced in her tone: “Azriel, Cassian, go get Rhysand he’s-”.
Azriel and Cassian were out the door before Mor had a chance to finish her sentence.
Mor and Amren meanwhile tried to get you to sit down with them, but you just brushed them off and disappeared into your bedroom. You knew they meant well, but you wanted to lock yourself in your room.
Not even five minutes later, Rhysand burst through your shared bedroom. Rhysand knelt down and cupped your face: “My darling y/n, please tell me what’s wrong? Tell me so I can help you,” there was a sense of panic in his voice.
“I’m tired Rhysand” you replied blandly. Rhysand remained silent as the other stormed into the room and watched the scene in front of them: “I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m ok.”
@paankhaleyaar @amara-moonlight @favsrachz
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loving-barnes · 2 months
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - ONE OF US
A/N: CHAPTER ELEVEN is here! I will continue the story. I don't think I will rewrite it. I just needed to put out something and now, I can move forward and start some drama. Not now. Not in this chapter.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: I have decided to not give any warnings. Please remember this story is 18+.
Summary: Y/N got an offer to become a member of the X-men.
Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for a mature audience. MINORS DNI!
Words: 3000+
Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.
A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Ten
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LOGAN HOWLETT - ONE OF US
The youngest students fell in love with their new English teacher. They wanted her attention all day, every day, which didn’t sit well with Logan. He couldn’t steal a quick chat with her in the hallway between classes, or a secret kiss while no one was watching. Before he had a chance, a kid or two would take Y/N’s hand, taking her away from Logan. In a blink of an eye, she’d be gone.
Y/N wasn’t blind. She saw how his nostrils flared when a student got her away from him. She sensed the disappointment when he couldn’t get his hands on her. Also, they wanted to be careful about their relationship - or whatever this was. Maybe people already knew about them. Suspicions were raised long before they became a thing.
“Let’s keep this between us for now,” Y/N suggested after their first passionate night together. 
They were lying on the bed in her room, limbs tangled. Her fingers were drawing patterns on his naked chest as she was listening to his beating heart. Logan’s body was warm. All she wanted to do was inhale his scent all day and night. Hell, all she wanted was to lick his abs, but that was just her secret fantasy.
“Why is that?”
“I don’t want to jinx it,” she whispered. “Something good is happening and I fear I will lose it. I hope you understand.” 
Logan pressed a kiss to the top of her head, humming. To her surprise, he agreed. “We don’t owe anyone any explanation,” he said. “But I agree. We should keep this between us for now. To see how things will go.” 
“I think Storm knows,” Y/N said with a smile. “She was teasing me about it for some time.” 
Logan chuckled. “Yeah, same with Rogue. She was getting on my nerves. Always teasin’ and shit.” 
Y/N laughed. “Yeah, she always gave me the damn eyes - that look to nudge me to do something.” 
After another school day, the students spend their time outside in the sun. Even though it was autumn, that day was surprisingly warm and sunny. No one would have known Halloween was only a few days away. 
Logan was standing at the basketball court, talking to Remy. His arms crossed over his chest while his eyes stared into the distance. Of course, he was looking at Y/N who hung out with some of the youngest students. She had her body hanging from a tree, upside down, while another child did the same. They laughed and talked and the kids around seemed happy. Damn, she was good with them. 
She was fearless, caring and filled with something he couldn’t describe. He swore he would never let anyone close to him again, and here she was, getting to his heart without even trying. Was it meant to be? Where the fuck was his brain going with this? Since when did he start to believe in this shit? 
“Are you even listening, mon ami?” he heard Remy’s annoyed voice. Before the man could reply, Remy noticed. “Ah, the new girl,” he laughed. “She seems nice. Don’t you think?” 
Logan squinted. Y/N was no longer the ‘new girl’. “What’s your point?” 
“It’s just…” he thought about his next words. He voiced them carefully. “What if Scott is right about her?” 
Logan was only a second away from punching him in the face. “What the fuck do you mean, Gambit?” 
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “She could be a danger to us and the kids. I just thought about what Scott said about her, you know? I know she saved the school. But Scott is the second hand in command,” he said. “I trust his instincts.” 
Logan’s fist clenched tighter. “Just because you trust his fucking instincts, you think he’s right? Get a life, Remy,” he spat at him and stomped away. 
“Come on man, I’m sorry,” Remy called after Logan and ran to him. “I only said it to see your reaction,” he laughed. “I see how you eye the girl. I knew these words would piss you off. You must really like her.” 
“Shut up,” he growled. 
“It’s very romantic, mon ami,” Remy continued. “You saved her, brought her here. Then you trained her and voilá, feelings were developed.” But he didn’t stop there. “I’ve noticed you changed your wild hairstyle, Logan. Your hair is more fluffy. You look like Prince Charming.” 
That was it for the Wolverine. He reached for Remy’s shoulder and brought him down on the hard ground. Everyone’s attention was on them. “Keep your damn mouth shut, Gambit,” Logan growled. “I have no idea whatcha talking about, but you as hell are getting on my nerves.”
“So, it’s true,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” 
A hand grabbed Logan’s shoulder and pushed him back. “Hey, woah big guy,” said Y/N. “What’s going on? Why so violent all of a sudden?” 
“He’s constantly getting on my nerves,” he huffed and stepped away from Remy. 
Y/N gave Remy a hand and helped him up on his feet. “Thank you, chére,” he smiled at her. 
A loud whistle echoed around the basketball court. Everyone turned their heads to the sound, noticing Rogue and Storm standing at the entrance door. “Now that we have your attention,” Rogue laughed. “The Professor wants to talk,” she continued. “He wants us to meet at the Danger room, now.” Her finger pointed at Logan, Remy and Y/N.
“Behave,” Y/N turned to the students, threatening them with a finger.
Logan shook his head. “You already have them wrapped around your finger, eh?” 
Remy had to laugh. The more he watched Logan talk to Y/N, the more he found it amusing. 
When they approached the two women, Rogue threatened Logan with a finger. “Touch my man one more time, and I will punch you in your face. I know you can heal in a matter of seconds, but you know damn well how painful my fist can be.”
Y/N bit her lower lip not to laugh at them. When she approached Storm, she wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Together they walked to the Danger room. 
. . .
“This is the stupidest idea ever.” 
Everyone was in the Danger room, ready to watch how powerful Y/N’s force field was. Charles suggested using Scott’s laser eyes to see if her power would withstand it. It was met with scepticism and criticism from both Y/N and Scott. Logan wasn’t fond of the idea but kept his mouth shut. He was worried Scott would hurt Y/N intentionally. 
Neither of them wanted to do it. They kept bickering, trying to convince Charles to let go. Unfortunately for them, he insisted. Now, both of them were standing on the other side of the room, ready to give the rest of the people a show. 
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Y/N. “Finally, we agree on something,” she grinned. “I was able to absorb a missile like two minutes ago,” Y/N argued. “I don’t see a point in doing this.”
Scott was standing with hands in his pockets, barely moving. “Are you afraid?” he smiled at her. He was mocking her.
“Are you?” she replied with a smirk.
They moved through the danger room, each taking a place on the other side. They were far enough from the spectators and there was a giant gap between them.
Her eyes shifted to the people standing at the entrance. Logan had his hands crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on her. Storm and Jean were leaning against the nearest wall, watching the upcoming show. Charles was in the wheelchair by Logan’s side. Remy held Rogue’s waist, head resting on her shoulder. The rest of the team had to attend classes and teach.
Y/N took a deep breath, closed her eyes and wrapped herself in a force field. She didn’t need her hands to do it. She could do it with her mind. Since she came to the school, she learnt more about it, how to control it and over time, it strengthened. When Y/N opened her eyes, they were all staring at her. It seemed everyone was impressed. Logan had a tiny smile on his lips. Was he proud? She hoped so.
“I thought she needed to use her hands. When did that happen?” Storm asked Logan and Charles. 
“During the attack,” Logan replied. “She was able to create multiple of them under pressure and stress. That’s when she made one using her mind. She had us both under them. And I was nowhere near her.” 
“Fascinating,” Charles said with a smile. “Tense and stressful situations can help speed up developing the power. She’s a fast learner.” 
“What did I miss?” Peter appeared next to them out of nowhere, eyes fixated on Y/N. “Damn, that thing is cool.”
“Don’t you have a class to teach?” Storm asked. 
Peter made a face. “Please, I wouldn’t miss this for the world. But no, I don’t. Have I seen her make it? Maybe I did. I don’t know.” 
“Your mouth’s running miles, Speedy. Shut up,” Logan glared at him.
Y/N concentrated. She cleared her mind, trying to think about nothing but the task. Her eyes glared at Scott, watching as he set the device on his eyes and blasted a laser at her. When it hit the forcefield, the laser got absorbed into it. She felt energy pulses running through her body. It wasn’t pleasant. Y/N struggled to keep it up. She had to admit that Scott had a powerful mutation. 
“God fucking dammit,” she cursed and lifted her hands in the air, trying to hold the shield up. She could feel her energy draining fast. A growl escaped her throat. A bomb would already be done. Scott’s lasers kept on going with the same intensity. She cursed a few more times. 
Y/N wouldn’t give up. She pushed through.
Scott stopped. The laser was gone. He didn’t lose his composure. A grin appeared on his face. “Impressive,” he commented. “Although, I didn’t go full power on you. You are not strong enough.” 
Y/N’s arms fell next to her body. The force field disappeared as she fell on her knees, breathing heavily. “Go fuck yourself,” she cursed. There was a big difference between the laser and the explosion. Their energy was incomparable. “Shit,” she mumbled, her head spinning. Slowly, she lay down on the ground, trying to ground herself. 
The sounds that echoed around her, from the people who were present, became muffled. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling which seemed to be kilometres away.
“Already napping, princess?” she heard Logan’s voice. 
Y/N raised her middle finger in the air. It was meant for Logan. “It was a stupid idea,” she huffed. “Thanks, Scott. It was fun,” she yelled. 
“Any time,” Scott laughed. The man moved to the group. “Is her forcefield strong? Yes. But, like I said, she’s weak. She was able to hold it for less than a minute. That’s not enough. She needs to train more, challenge herself.”
“She’s not weak,” said Logan. “You should have seen what happened when the school was under attack. You wouldn’t believe your cyclop eye.” 
Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, not listening to the conversation at the entrance. Her heart was beating fast. The energy flowing inside her was strong, pulsing. She needed to calm down. Her hands rested on top of her raising chest. Thinking back, a few months ago, she wouldn’t be able to do any of this. Now, she’s a different person - a different mutant.  Who knows what would have happened to her if she’d remained in the facility? What if she never tried to escape? What if…
“Hey.” Her eyes moved to the side, finding Logan standing above her. “You okay?” He asked. 
“I’m just trying to catch my breath,” she grimaced. “My whole body is vibrating.”
Logan laughed. “Come on, get your ass up, princess,” he reached a hand to her. She grabbed it and he lifted her on her feet. “Are you sure you are okay? You don’t seem like it.” 
Y/N looked at the group of people in front of her. “When did Charles get the ability to multiply? I see two of them… and Storm… and everyone.” 
“Jesus Christ, woman,” Logan huffed. “Don’t say you are fine when you are not.” He set his arm for her to grab on. He walked her to the rest of the people. 
Rogue chuckled. “Adorable,” she commented. “You really are a knight in shining armour.” She received one deadly glare from him. 
“You okay?” Jean was concerned. 
“Yeah, I just need a longer minute,” said Y/N.
“There is something we have for you, Y/N,” said Charles. “Come to the lab, please.” He wheeled out from the Danger room as the rest followed him. 
Rogue was able to steal Y/N from Logan again, giving him a big innocent smile as she did so. “Come on, sugar, we have something special for you.”
“Hey, don’t spoil it,” Storm glared at her.
“Oh, no,” Y/N sighed. “I’m not fond of surprises,” she whispered. 
“You’re gonna love this one,” Rogue sang excitedly. 
The group went inside the lab, everyone taking their place. Hank went to a metal-like wardrobe. With a click of a button, he opened it and reached for something that looked like a piece of clothing. He had a smile on his face. 
“Let’s make this simple,” Charles turned in his wheelchair, facing Y/N. “You’ve made a fantastic profess with your ability. It’s fascinating to watch your journey with us. The kids have bonded well with you, accepting you as their new teacher. You saved the school and the students, for which I am grateful. I think it’s only fair to ask you if you’d like to become an official member of the X-men.” 
Her mouth opened wide, not believing this was happening. Was this actually happening? “A-are you serious?” 
“Yes!” Jean nodded. “You’d be an excellent addition to the team. You already are.” 
Y/N’s eyes checked each and every member. They were all staring at her, waiting for her to say something. And Logan had a smirk on his face, eyes digging into hers. He wanted to know her answer. 
She smiled at them. “Holy shit, it’s like a proposal,” she laughed. “Yes, of course.”
Hank was the first to approach her as Rogue clapped her hands. He handed her a custom-made black uniform. He patted her shoulder. It felt unreal. 
A few months ago, she was beaten and bruised, not capable of using her power. Logan found her which was a miracle moment. Now, they wanted her to become a member of the X-men. They trusted her, except Scott. Fuck him.
“Wonderful,” Charles nodded. “I’m glad your answer was positive. I would like to talk to you more about this tomorrow morning. Since the formalities are done, everyone should return to their classes.”
It felt surreal. Was she finally fitting somewhere? A tiny smile played on her lips as Y/N kept scanning the new suit with her eyes, noticing every detail. The yellow stripes were a perfect combination to the all-black leather outfit. 
One by one, they left the lab, leaving Y/N standing there with her thoughts. They understood she’d want to process this alone for a moment. Logan noticed she didn’t move, eyes glued to the piece of clothing. His head turned to the rest of the team to see if they were paying attention while walking to the elevator. Quickly, he walked back to Y/N. 
He approached her slowly and put both hands on her shoulders. “You okay?” 
Her eyes lifted, all glassy and sparkling. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she quickly nodded, smiling. “I’m more than fine. I’m thrilled.”
“Good,” he smiled at her. 
She eyed him carefully. “You have a very handsome smile, have I told you that?” 
He raised one eyebrow. “Uh, that’s a first.” He leaned closer to her. When she raised her head, his lips pressed onto hers in a simple kiss. “You flatter me, princess.”
“Someone has to. I can’t make fun of you, tease you all the damn time.” 
Logan turned his head to the door, then back at her. “Ya know what, darlin’? Let’s go out tonight. Just the two of us.” 
Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “Oh? You wanna take me on a date?” 
He hummed. “Imma take you somewhere where we can be alone for more than five fucking minutes. I’m so fucking angry that those damn kids steal you away from me whenever I try to reach out for you.” 
She laughed at that. “I knew you were not fond of that. Logan, they are just kids. So, let’s go out, just the two of us. Let’s hope no one will want to tag with us.”
“You want me all to yourself, eh?” 
Y/N kissed him again. “Fuck yes,” she said. “Living here has been amazing. I adore everyone. But, I want to have some alone time with you. When we are alone, what do we do?”
“Fuck,” he said.
“Exactly. We fuck, we talk for five minutes and we fall asleep,” she snorted. 
Logan pressed another kiss to her lips - loving, gentle. “I’ll wait for you in the garage at eight. Oh, and, wear something warm. It’s gonna get cold.” 
She gasped. “Are you taking me on your bike?” 
“Only if you promise me not to fucking fall off it like the first time I took you on it,” he laughed. 
“Hey! I was wounded, barely conscious. Hell, I went unconscious. Plus, I didn’t even know you. Not my fault,” she frowned at his teasing. She clutched the suit in her hand while the other punched his shoulder. 
Logan laughed at that attempt. “Okay, okay, I get your point, darlin’. I’m just messin’ with ya.”
“I know,” she smiled. 
Another kiss happened. “Eight o’clock. Just the two of us.”
“Just the two of us.” 
278 notes · View notes
yandere-romanticaa · 1 month
Note
i know you've mainly written about yan! william with a darling who is just as crazy, but can you do one with a more innocent darling? like they just tried to run away from him, too bad he knows them like the back of his hand and knows where she could have gone
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The serene song of the morning birds gave an ethereal atmosphere to the Moriarty household, as some of the large branches from the nearby trees kept tapping against the open windows, their soon to be bright orange and red leaves decorating the wooden floor.
William drank his tea in peace, the hot aroma engulfing him as he let out a satisfied hum. The branches were beyond beautiful, they truly did give a certain pop of life to the entire estate which he marvelously enjoyed.
Said branches were also quite sturdy, he duly noted.
Placing the tea cup back down onto the porcelain white plate, William uncrossed his legs and stood up, his posture as straight as it can be as he made his way towards the window, his pace slow and relaxed. He looked out the window, taking in the soon to be autumn scenery and a few footsteps left in the grass from a little someone who managed to escape. How cute, he thought to himself.
"Brother..." said a sudden voice, it being gentle and soft, but with a hint of worry in it. William did not even bother to turn around to look at his brother, already knowing what he was going to ask him. Louis always made sure that everything was in order, no matter how miniscule it may seem. He would sometimes even have him tend to the little captive he held in his basement, making sure that the shackles were tight just right, but not too tight.
He despised seeing bruises bloom on your pretty skin. The sight alone made him seethe.
"Yes Louis, I know. No need to concern yourself with anything." came William's reply, his voice neutral.
"I shall take care of everything. You just keep doing what you always do best." said William. He turned slightly back to look at his brother, to analyze his worried face. He gave him a nod, which allowed Louis to leave the room.
The room was almost vacant now, save for William and his morning paper. The man could not help but to let out a wistful sigh, red tainting his pale cheeks as he felt his heart do backflips in his chest.
You had no kind of idea just what sort of power you had over the Lord of Crime. That was always something William was going to give you credit for. Your fiery nature was beyond precious but you just had this innocent doll like quality to your person, which William James Moriarty could not help but to deeply admire.
He already knows where you are. He already knows where he was going to go tonight and at exactly what time he was going to collect you. William was buzzing at the thought of you telling him just how you had managed to get out of your shackles without waking up anyone in the entire house, all the while climbing down a tree like a little mouse.
For now though, he was going to let you enjoy this mini spoil of victory. He could already picture your sweet face, a face so sweet that he sometimes wondered if it would crumble due to his dark touch.
William was not a good man, he knew this all too well. However, he was also not cruel, especially towards you. You would be granted these few hours of freedom, you truly did deserve them.
Once the sun goes down and the silver moon comes up though, all is fair in love and war.
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sinner-as-saint · 2 months
Text
no masters or kings - 3
Priest!Bucky x Reader 
Read Part 1 and Part 2 here 
Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before. 
Requested: “i really wanna hear more about priest bucky. what would be his reaction to the readers partner coming back to town suddenly? or what about readers spouse saying they should start trying for a baby?” 
Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff), breeding kink, jealous!bucky, slight angst
a/n: for @cadence-on-beat and @winters1917 (sorry this took so long ily) 
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Bucky was leading a double life, and he had never been happier. 
By day he was the kind, gentle, compassionate priest he’d been for years in this small town. By day he was the man who had chosen this plain life rather than be the heir to his parents’ business empire. He still visited his family home over the holidays, and helped out with business stuff whenever he could. Like the good man he was. By day he prayed, and helped, and preached, and listened to all those who came to him, to confess, to lean on his shoulder, to cry, to repent. By day he was the priest the people in this small town knew and loved him as. 
But then in the dark, he’d find his way to you. Always. Each night ever since those first few times. It was almost instinctual. Natural. Like Persephone finding her way back to Hades’ kingdom of darkness come autumn. Like it was destiny. A primal pull. 
Bucky didn’t run at night that often anymore. If ever he did, he’d never come home. He would just run to you and stay the night, and leave right before the sun rose. 
It all started that one night he found himself running in the dark in one specific direction – towards your luxurious home. 
Your home was located in the rather quiet part of the town, which was a good thing. You didn’t have any neighbours, which was also good because no one saw him making his way to your front door. 
His heart raced as he reached for the door handle. He thought back to what you’d once confessed to him: “Sometimes I leave the doors and windows unlocked or opened, even at night. Shamelessly hoping someone might just walk in…” 
Surely not. Right? But what if– 
He stopped thinking and froze the moment he turned the handle and the door opened an inch. Unlocked, just as you had said. Were you secretly hoping he’d seek you out one night? 
He was here unannounced. This was not planned. He was sort of worried that he might scare you, given the boundaries he was crossing. But part of him – the long restrained, dark corner of him – was excited for this little game he was about to play. Hunter. Prey. Cat. Mouse. Something stirred inside him, and he quickly realised that his cock was harder than ever as he quietly stepped into your home. 
It was dark inside, no lights were on. Except one upstairs, it looked like the soft, dim light in the hallway which lit part of the staircase. The house smelt a lot like you. Sweet. Soft. Warm. For a moment he pictured you moving around this space. And he liked it a lot. 
He began making his way upstairs, he figured by the darkness and silence that you weren’t downstairs. He went to follow the dimmed light coming from somewhere, then two things happened at the same time. It began raining outside, the wind making the rain hit the windows harder than normal. And second, Bucky realised that the stairs were creaking with each step. 
He went still for a moment. Every other sound around him became louder. His heartbeats, the rain hitting the glass around the house, and the muffled shuffling coming from upstairs. 
You were awake. He figured. You were awake and aware that he was here. And you were trying to be as quiet as possible, not screaming bloody murder which meant that… you wanted to play as well. 
Bucky smirked as he took his sweet time in making his way upstairs, making sure and letting each step creak as loudly as possible. He soon found himself in that dimly lit hallway, at the end of which were dark, double doors. One of them was partially opened. Surely your bedroom. 
He could hear noises the more he approached the doors. And he was certain he even heard a soft giggle which warmed his heart, and made him smile despite the hard as rock erection in his running shorts which desperately needed attention. 
He didn’t even bother knocking on the already opened door, he just pushed it open wider so he could step inside. And there, even in the dark room only lit by the street lights outside, he could see the shape of you in the middle of your four-poster bed, sitting, waiting. 
“Father Barnes?” You called out softly. 
“You shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked. You don’t know who might just walk in,” He spoke as he walked further into your room, approaching the bed. “You wouldn’t know it, but some people walk around with the most dark thoughts in their heads. You don’t know when they might just…” He braced a hand against one of the posters on your bed and leaned down just a little, “... give in.” 
-
He didn’t see the slight smirk on your face. It was dark after all, the rain was getting heavier, trapping you two even more inside this perfect bubble. 
Father Barnes spoke to you with that priestly voice of his, like he only had good intentions. Like he wasn’t here to fuck you, but guide you gently like you were a lost little lamb. It was comforting, that voice. Except right now, it only made you clench your thighs tighter together under the covers. 
“I see.” You mumbled, faking the apologetic tone in your voice. All you wanted was to pull him down onto your bed and straddle him but if he wanted to play this little game, then fine. You could wait a little more. “But I’m safe with you, aren’t I? You’re here to make sure no one with ill intentions finds their way to me?” 
You watched as he walked around the bed to come to the side, sat down on the edge of your bed and reached out to touch your cheek with his cold hand. “Of course, little lamb. You’re always safe with me.” He said, stroking your cheek. His hand was cold so you shivered against his touch, but didn’t pull away. He noticed and said, “Are you cold? Poor you, come here.” He patted his lap, “I’ll keep you warm, and safe. I promise.” 
You wasted no time in getting out of the covers and finding your way onto his lap, straddling him and enjoying the way he groaned the moment your bare cunt brushed against his hard on. “Fuck,” You mumbled, unable to help yourself from grinding against him just once. Just to feel him between your thighs. It made your head all foggy. 
“What is this?” He questioned, faking displeasure. “Is this what you wear to sleep? With the door unlocked? You’re practically naked.” He chided, fingers rubbing against your exposed back the moment he noticed you were wearing nothing but an excuse of a silky night dress, with the back open, the neckline dangerously low, and the length barely below your butt. “Good women don’t dress like this, you know? You’re a walking temptation. Is this what you want? To lure strange men into your home while your husband is away? Is that what this is?” 
His hand found its way in between your legs, shamelessly toying with your wet folds and clit, making you whine and whimper as you ground your hips against his hand, seeking more. 
“No,” You mumbled, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t do anything.” You whined as his finger slowly slid inside you. His other hand still stroking your back. This was all you wanted. To be here in his embrace. 
Father Barnes chuckled, “Ah, see but you did. You lured me in. You tempted me.” He looked down and saw, with whatever minimal light was available, how his hand disappeared in between your thighs, and how your hips moved so perfectly, riding his finger. “Look,” He said, “Look at what you’re making me do.” 
You moaned out loud when he slid another finger inside you, fucking you so slowly and perfectly that it felt like you might die. “But I–,” 
“Shh,” He cut you off. “You should be thankful I’m not like other men. You see, they would just walk in and use you. But not me. You know me. You’re safe with me, remember?” 
You nodded, shoving your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “Yes, Father Barnes.” You mumbled in between moans. 
“That’s it, lamb. Just trust me, okay?” 
-
Fuck. 
Bucky couldn’t take this any longer. He enjoyed this little game but he needed you. So it didn’t take much for him to twist around and place you down on the bed and hover above you. The little light coming in from outside allowed him to see parts of you. Your parted lips, the hunger in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, the way your thighs cradled his body. Fuck. He could live in this moment forever. 
“How many nights have you waited for me to just walk in here and play with you, hmm?” He lifted the hem of your night dress and sighed at the sight of your naked body. 
You easily removed the night dress and threw it aside, your hands finding their way into his hair as you pulled him closer. “Too many to count.” You whispered, lips brushing against his mouth. “I need you, please.” 
You were barely done talking when he lazily ran his fingers down your wet folds. You shivered under him, squirming on the bed. 
“Look at you, so shamelessly wet.” He growled, grabbing your face in his other hand as he slid two fingers inside you and making you gasp and moan. “Does this feel good? Hmm? This is why you leave your door open, and dress like that at night, huh? All because you want some man to show up and touch you however he wants? Does that make you feel wanted?” He stroked you in all the right places and had you coming all over his fingers in no time.You whined and squirmed as he kept finger-fucking you through your orgasm. 
He pulled away for a brief moment, taking his clothes off but leaving his boxers lowered just enough to free his erected cock. You watched as he stroked it once, twice before finding his way back in between your legs. 
One of his hands found its way to your throat and he wrapped his fingers around it carefully as he stared into your eyes. “You’re gonna let me fuck you just that easily, huh? You’re that hungry for it? I found my way into your house at night, unexpected, and you’re not even gonna put up a fight?” 
You were trembling with need. Unable to look away from his intense eyes as he guided the tip of his cock over to your clit and circled it, smearing his precum and your wetness around. You whimpered at the sensation. “Please…” You begged. 
He chuckled, teasing you a bit more by just pressing the tip of his cock against your tight hole. Not pushing it in, just pressing ever so gently until you whined and clawed at his shoulders. “See how bad you want it? Is this how good women behave?” He taunted before pushing his cock inside you. “No they don’t,” He whispered as he slid all the way in, “This is how good little sluts behave.” 
He remained still for a few moments, just relishing the feeling of your warmth around him. Your breath was shaky as you felt him fill you up and stretch you out so deliciously, snug deep inside you. 
He stared at your face, contorting in pleasure. Then he chuckled, and the slightest friction made you whine even louder. “I feel good inside you, don’t I?” He teased, rolling his hips just the slightest bit against you. When you cried out in pleasure, he tightened his grip around your throat and said, “I know, I know it feels good. Desperate woman like you, this is all you needed, huh?” He whispered. 
Fuck, he felt so good. You nodded, going along with whatever he said because it was so hot – his body, his words, his touch, the depravity of it all. “Yes,” You mumbled, so overcome with pleasure even though he hadn’t started fucking you yet that you felt like you could cry. 
“Then tell me.” He said, “Tell me I feel good inside you.” 
Another whine, and a gasp, then you mumbled, “You feel so good inside me, Father Barnes.” A pause then, “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, desperately.
-
Bucky didn’t want to wait another second, he couldn’t take it anymore either. His entire body felt like it was on fire as he started fucking into you hard and fast, not bothering to be nice to you. Not this time, not right now he couldn’t. 
He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear and telling you how good you felt. You could only respond with moans and whimpers, which only made him fuck you harder. 
“That little head of yours is filled with filthy thoughts only, isn’t it? Seducing a priest,” He said in a tone of pretend discontent, “You should be punished for that.” He whispered in your ear, in a daze as he pounded into you. Your body squirmed under him, your back arching off the bed, chest pressing into his. 
You must’ve wanted him closer still because Bucky let out a soft chuckle when he noticed you raised your trembling legs and wrapped them around his hips. Pulling him deeper into you, if that was possible. 
“You want me closer? Want me to fuck you deeper, harder? Hmm? Is that what this is?” He taunted. “You just want to be my dirty, filthy, little slut? Huh? You never want me to stop?” He held your stare, pressing the sides of your throat as he fucked deeper into you. 
He watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your moans getting louder, your body heating up beneath him, your walls clenching around his cock in that way he loved. 
“Well then, you don’t get to come that easily.” 
-
Those words brought you right back to reality, just when you were right on that edge. 
“What?” You questioned in disbelief, but not doing anything to stop him as he pulled out, grabbed you by the hips and flipped you around onto your stomach. 
“Bucky!” You cried out as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your lower back with one hand. That earned you a smack on the butt. Hard. Stinging. 
“That’s Father Barnes to you, you little slut.” 
You moaned when you felt him guiding his cock back to your hole again. 
He leaned over your back to whisper into your ear, sliding his cock inside you as he said, “You belong to me.” He said, like it was the most ardent prayer. He tugged on your pinned wrists, which made you whine in pain and pleasure. “So if you’re gonna leave the doors unlocked, and if you’re gonna wear these slutty things to bed, it’ll be only for me. You hear me?” 
“Yes!” You agreed immediately, then yelped in pleasure as he pulled out and pushed back into you from behind. 
Then he began fucking you again, hard and fast. Mercilessly. Like an ancient god taking what was offered to him at his altar. Like it was his right. Like you were there, open and willing only for his taking. Rough. Raw. The pleasure was overwhelming. 
“Come for me…” 
And you did. 
Not just that night, but every night which followed. 
Each time you heard those stairs creak in the middle of the night, your heart would begin racing in anticipation. Because nothing was as exciting as indulging in what was forbidden. 
But naturally, things couldn’t go on like this for long without some kind of hindrance. 
Then there was that phone call. 
Your husband called and a conversation was had which soured your mood for the rest of the day. To a point where not even Father Barnes could take your mind off things. 
The two of you laid in your bed that night, both sweaty and damp and in dire need of showers but neither of you wanted to move so there you remained. Limbs tangled. Your head on his chest, listening to his strong heartbeats. His hand rubbing your back, while the other traced random shapes all over your thigh. 
“What is it?” He asked after a good half an hour of just cuddling in silence. 
The room was dark, and it wasn’t raining so the silence was too loud to ignore. 
“Nothing.” You answered. 
-
Bucky sighed. Of course it wasn’t nothing. “Tell me,” He insisted. 
“It’s… complicated.” You answered. 
“Try. We’ll make sense of it together, I promise.” He used that priestly tone, one he knew worked with everyone. 
A moment of silence later you said, “My husband called.” And Bucky’s heart dropped. Suddenly he felt cold, empty, deserted. Like something, someone had abandoned him. And he didn’t even know what your husband had said yet, but he could tell he wouldn’t like it. 
“I see. Has he found out about us?” 
A humourless chuckle from you meant that that wasn’t the case. 
“Worse,” You spoke quietly, “He met up with our parents for lunch recently and… they mentioned wanting grandkids.” 
Bucky pulled away instantly like your touch burned his skin. It was childish, he knew, to be this jealous when he was clearly in the wrong. He sat up on the edge of your bed, and tried to get his emotions under control. 
He had no right to be angry. To feel betrayed. To feel sad. 
“Don’t pull away from me. Please.” You whispered, kneeling behind him on the bed and wrapping your arms around him from behind. 
Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the warmth of your skin. The feeling of your chest pressing against his back. The way you nuzzled his neck, leaving soft kisses all over his skin. 
“Everytime I think I have you, I’m reminded that you belong to someone else.” He confessed. “And I have no right to be angry. Or expected anything from you.” 
You sighed, letting your hands touch him all over his chest, caressing his shoulders, down his arms as you said, “I don’t belong to anyone but you. My husband and I… we talked about it earlier. We respect each other, but there’s no way we could get together like that. Maybe we can adopt. Or find a surrogate, but–,” 
He cut you off, annoyed at the mere mention of another man. “There’s no place for me in your life.” He announced, calmly. “There is still time. We could put an end to this. Then perhaps you two could try and do right by your marriage and–,” 
That calm tone pissed you off for some reason, “Oh stop trying to be all nice, calm, and priestly as if you weren’t fucking me like an animal just now!” You pulled away from him, glaring at the back of his neck even in the mostly dark room. “Do right by my marriage.” You scoffed. “Is that what you want?” You questioned, keeping your voice steady. “You want me to climb into my husband’s bed? Let him fuck me however he wants until–,” 
You barely processed what was happening because that’s how fast he moved. One moment you were talking and the next his hand was around your throat and he was standing up, looking down at you still kneeling on the bed. 
“Keep talking, come on.” He dared you, squeezing the sides of your neck. His voice was cold, and unlike anything you’d heard before. 
Despite the chokehold, you smirked. “You don’t like the sound of that, do you, Father Barnes?” You taunted. “I’m just telling you how it’ll go.” 
“I don’t want to fucking hear it.” He growled.
You found yourself flat on your back again, with him above you. The little light available allowed you to see his silhouette. Broad and muscular, all that running made him just the right amount of lean. 
He parted your legs and pushed his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out easily. Bucky’s thoughts were all over the place. How dare you talk about sleeping with another man? How dare he get jealous? How dare you even think about having someone else’s kids? 
There it was. The thing that bothered him the most. Someone else’s kids. Not his. And suddenly he was nothing but a man – not a priest, or a considerate human being, just a man. 
“How fucking dare you?” He questioned, his cock buried so deep inside of you that he was certain neither of you could even think straight. “I give you everything,” He spoke through gritted teeth as he began fucking you, “I take care of you, I fuck you whenever you ask for it, and this is what I get in return?” 
There was nothing gentle or passionate about him. He was wild, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear while you were a moaning mess under him. Skin slapping, breaths mingling, it was so hot. So hot and you couldn’t think. 
“You belong to me.” He hissed in your ear; speeding up again. “I don’t care what the rules are, if you’re gonna carry a child it’ll be mine. Do you fucking hear me?”
Your heart raced at what he said. What about the consequences? What about his job? What will you tell your family? 
But none of that mattered right now, not with his body weight on top of you, not with how perfectly his cock moved in and out of you. You whimpered desperately as he fucked you, relentlessly. 
He sped up into you, whispering into your ear, “I can already see it… you with a bump, my child growing, and safe inside you.” He spoke in a haze, his voice deep and growly. “We’ll go far away from here, consequences be damned.” 
You nodded, agreeing. 
Bucky had never thought about laicization before. Never considered it as an option. Never wanted to. But now? Now things were different. Now he was determined to make you his. He wanted this now, he wanted to have this forever, have you forever. 
He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He slowed down just the slightest bit. He pulled away a little and stared down into your eyes. “You will be mine, forever. I promise you.” He whispered as he fucked deeper into you. “I’ll fix this, I’ll take care of you. Don’t you worry about a thing, you hear me?”
He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing all your moans and mewls as he came inside of you. You felt his warm load shooting at your walls as he shoved his tongue past your lips. You cried out as that triggered your orgasm, and your walls clenched violently around him until you came undone as well. 
Your brain was a foggy mess at this point. 
He pulled his cock out of you and pulled away to reach for the bedside lamp, turned it on so he could admire you under him better. 
A triumphant smirk appeared on his face as he stared at his cum leaking out of you while you panted under him, squirming still as you came down from your high and tried to control your breathing. 
He slowly slipped his fingers back into you and watched how your face morphed into a frown as he fingered his cum back into you again, making you arch your back and whine in pleasure, “Please…” you whined, unsure if you wanted him to stop playing with your body or if you wanted him to make you cum again. 
He didn’t care about how sensitive you were, he just needed to remind you that you belonged to him. He had to make sure you knew. 
Bucky leaned in to kiss you again. “You will carry my child, won’t you, baby?” He whispered against your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. “We’re gonna find a way to make this work. But you are not fucking leaving me, you hear that?” He growled against your lips as you came again. 
He kissed your lips gently, then your closed eyelids, then he left a final kiss on your forehead before he laid beside you, leaving the light on, as he pulled you into his arms. You were limp, and quiet, possibly closer to sleep than consciousness. 
Bucky on the other hand couldn’t stop thinking. He wanted this with you, he’d never been more sure about something in his life before. 
Money was not an issue, he was always going to inherit everything his parents have anyway, and they’ve always begged him to come home and take over the businesses. The only issue would be your family and husband, but he was certain that although some difficult conversations would need to be had, things would be sorted soon enough. 
Then you and him could start your new life. 
He couldn’t wait. 
A/n: I won’t be writing more parts for this series, I like to leave some things open-ended. Have fun imagining the rest, if you want, I’ll leave that to you <3 Thank you for loving Father Barnes as much as I did, see y’all in hell. I’ll wait by the gates ;) 
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ghostlysoaps · 3 months
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Inspiration - @ghcstao3
There's something to be said about the way John "Soap" MacTavish, notorious for his fleeting fancy of any given subject when off an op, hasn't been able to get Simon Riley out of his head. Granted, even before "The Incident" his lieutenant occupied his thoughts frequently. But now, oh, not a minute goes by where his attention doesn't stray, where his eyes aren't drawn to Ghost’s hulking figure, and he wishes they'd been stationed literally anywhere else but the monotone grey of autumnal England.
His sketchbook is filled with pages upon pages of studies. Greens and browns and gold – the myriad of colours hazel can be – despite how none of them feel right. Too saturated, too dark, too light. Too much or too little. Then again... it is near impossible to recreate a work of art after a mere fleeting second of studying the original. La Gioconda del Prado wasn't made with a peripheral glance at Da Vinci's subject – so how is Johnny to do the impossible?
-
"Spar with me."
Ghost pauses with his fork mid-way to his mouth. A mouth Johnny would gladly analyze at length, or map with his own one day, if not for the unhealthy obsession he's taken with Ghost's eyes.
One thing at a time.
His irises are shadowed by the tilt of his head and the presence of eyeblack but there is a subtle difference between them. Johnny is fool enough to think he can see it no matter how shit the lighting. Deluded, even, if his long-suffering best friend is to be believed. They're also dark with question, narrowed with thoughts and opinions kept close at heart.
"Alright," Ghost says and pushes the rest of his dinner away, pausing briefly as if to say something before ultimately deciding against it.
Johnny follows him with a pronounced bounce in his step and speeds through stretching and warming up. It'll be a killer tomorrow but that's a problem for future Johnny. Sore muscles are a small price to pay if it means settling a mystery.
They take their places, circling each other lazily. Johnny, ever the impatient one, lunges first and ends up with Ghost's heavy weight straddling the small of his back a couple minutes later. He grinds his teeth and heaves himself back to his feet. Sweat beads at his temples, his neck, trickling down his spine. Alight with purpose, he throws himself back in the fray.
He sways out of Ghost’s reach, blocking and evading, bouncing on the tips of his toes, throwing punches when it's fitting while he awaits the perfect time to strike. They're both grinning. It's plain as day on his own face, more subtle on Ghost's. The way the corners of his eyes crease gives him away, the shift of his plain balaclava as his lips twitch.
Johnny is focused on them like a bloodhound on a scent and when Ghost tosses his head, tilting it up with a roll of his shoulders, the florescent lights catching them just so.
Oh, is all he can think with the truth of him laid plain to see – how Johnny had been right all along. They differ subtly in darkness but when cast in either sunshine sepia or lightbulb white the contrast between them is stark. One is the deep, dark of pine, a forest green with too many hues to accurately count. It compliments the wooden brown of tree-trunk bark, flecks of whiskey-gold therein framed by pale lashes of nearly the same colour.
A modern day Medusa who stops him dead in his tracks, mesmerised, as Ghost's fist slams into the side of his face with the concentrated power of an eighteen-wheeler barreling into a concrete wall.
-
Ghost's face swims back into view an undetermined amount of time later. Worry etched into the tense way he carries himself. His hands are cupping Johnny’s cheeks, thumbs stroking once under his lower lids before they tilt his head back a fraction. He hovers close, peering into Johnny’s eyes as if they hold the secrets of the universe therein.
"Fuckin' hell Johnny. Anything broken?"
Johnny blinks at him, a dopey smile spreading over his lips like molasses.
Ghost, if anything, looks even more worried.
"Talk to me, Sergeant."
"You've beautiful eyes."
Ghost freezes in place. Gobsmacked, if Johnny were to put an expression to it. He murmurs a string of delightfully innovative curses under his breath, manoeuvring Johnny to sitting upright, and the change in vantage point only makes him a little bit dizzy. The dark spots dancing before his eyes is nothing new, honestly, but they are annoying when they're ruining his view.
"Knocked what little sense you had left right out of your head, huh?" Ghost sounds amused and Soap realises, belatedly, that he might've said all that out loud. "Price'll have a field day with this."
"Take some responsibility an' kiss it better then."
"You're concussed."
"Och aye, an' whose fault is tha'? You and yer bonnie eyes. Could get lost in 'em, y'ken?"
"You're off your head, mate."
"Ahm'nt! An' if you'd jus' stay still for a moment an' lemme look at ye, this wouldn't 'ave been an issue," Johnny grumbles indignantly. Grumbles, because whining is for children and it never works in getting him what he wants anyway. Ghost usually looks at him with the flattest stare imaginable whenever he tries. Horrid man. Johnny kind of wants to kiss him about it.
"Tell you what, Johnny. If you're good–" Ghost slings his arm over his shoulder, kindly ignoring the way his words leave him shivering, "–i'll let you look all you want."
Johnny leans against him when he's levered to his feet, swaying like a branch caught in the wind. "I can be good."
"Mmh. You're gonna listen to the nurses once I drop you off at medical?"
Soap groans and smushes his face deeper into Ghost’s surprisingly comfortable shoulder.
"I'll take that as a yes."
-
Ghost keeps his promises, it is an irrefutable fact, and Johnny can and will take advantage of that with shameless abandon.
Crawling into Ghost's lap with a shit-eating grin, paints and brushes well-within reach, wobbling precarious on his perch until Ghost takes pity and steadies him with scorching hands on his hips feels like a victory despite the dull throbbing in his temple and purpling bruises lapping up the side of his face. There are no protests when he guides Ghost's head this-way-and-that. No complaints are heard even when the warm glow of his bedside lamp shines at his eyes and their kaleidoscope of colours become present again. Ghost keeps his gaze unwavering focused when Johnny's hands rest on his face in a mirror of the day prior – though his eyelids droop down the fraction of an inch. It's intense and intimate and Johnny, no stranger to selfishness when he can get away with it, can't help but be greedy.
"Can you be good for me now, Simon?"
His lieutenant nods as far as Johnny’s hands allow and though him closing his eyes is the opposite of good, Johnny can't fault him when his own slide shut as he brings their faces together for the first time – a new obsession flaring to life in the wake of lips brushing fabric.
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mistydeyes · 1 year
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141 boys and your oddly specific hobby
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summary: Most people have hobbies like drawing or bird watching, however, yours are more unique. Regardless of your odd interests, the 141 still loves you, their quirky significant other!
pairing: 141 x gn!Reader
warnings: swearing
a/n: By popular vote, this won so please enjoy :)
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Price - matchbook collecting
When you first met Price, it was when you both dipped your hands into the matchbook jar. The jar sat at the host stand of a dive bar and you both happened to go for it at the same time. Although, you two had different motives. Him, because he forgot his lighter, and you, because you wanted to add something else to your collection. He wouldn’t pass up on a pretty face who he presumed also smoked, so he invited you for a light. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were just a collector so you joined him outside.
What started as a quick smoke ended up being two hours of witty conversation. As your pleasantries turned into various topics and ramblings, you were glad you finished the cigar quickly, trying to emulate the mature man’s actions. He vaguely talked about his occupation, a high-ranking military man, and you talked about your non-comparable, boring civilian life. However as the late night hours slowly approached, you wrote your number on his matchbook and thanked him for the cigar and friendly chat.
On your next date, you revealed your odd hobby to Price. “I’ve been collecting them as a child. It’s like collecting snow globes from different destinations but much easier to display and transport,” you said as you both leisurely sipped your drinks. “And to think I thought you were out for a smoke, good thing I left my lighter that day, Love” he replied and gave you a subtle wink. You eventually showed him pictures of your growing collection, recounting where each one was from and showing him some of your favorites.
Soon everywhere he went, Price noticed the unique matchbooks. It started with pocketing a matchbox while he was in Amsterdam and grew slowly. Soon he would start a collection of his own, bringing them home to you with a story of where they each came from. After what seemed like 30 matchbooks in Price's collection, the 141 took notice. “Captain, you some pyromaniac or something,” Soap joked. “Just for my partner, weird collection of there’s” Price responded and no one questioned him further. Although, he still keeps the matchbook that has your number on it in his collection.
Soap - soap making
“You’re never gonna believe me, but I make soap as a side business.” Soap thought it was a joke at first, something to make him laugh when you first met. But when he entered your flat, he was shocked at how honest you were. Your walls were filled with shelves lined with every scent known to man along with hundreds of designed soaps. It smelled like a Lush store when he walked in and he marveled at your creations.
You watched him bask in the glory of the soap for a moment as you laughed heartily. "I told you so," you said as he went about sniffing each one and examining them. You organized them by scent and interrupted him as he approached the floral section. "Having fun there, Johnny?" you asked and he looked up at you as he held one of your rose-scented creations in his hand. "Can't believe this," he said and you smiled as he continued. Eventually, after he had smelt every single bar, you took him into a room where you were working on some new items for your fall collection.
"You have more!" he gasped and went to examine the bars of soap in their molds. "My Autumn collection," you said proudly, "here come smell this one." You led him to a table that housed an orange-hued soap slab with leaves delicately placed throughout the hardened bar. He held the slab in one hand and placed it up to his nose. His eyes lit up as a mix of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin filled his nostrils. "Smells like a pie," he joked and you showed him various others.
For his return from deployment, you had a surprise. You had spent weeks perfecting this formula and finally were satisfied. As you walked to his flat, you gently tugged on the striped ribbon that tied the parcel together. When he opened the door, he noticed the box in your hands and ushered you in. He excitedly tugged the ribbon off the box and opened it. He gasped when he saw two bars in the colors of the Scottish flag lying on a pile of recycled confetti. "What's this?" he asked and you motioned for him to turn the bars over and smell them. As his calloused hands turned the soft bar over, he noticed the packaging said "The Scotsman." He smiled widely as he placed them both up to his nose, taking in the smells of rain and pine. You swear you could see him tear up when he said, "Reminds me of my own home."
After this, he insisted you mass produce these bars of soap for his friends. You sheepishly did so and when you presented it to the other 141, Gaz loudly remarked, "He's finally done it, Soap is now a bar of soap." 
Gaz - raising butterflies
He had heard about people having pets—even raising chickens but never butterflies. Your house was a sanctuary, filled with small enclosures of cocoons along with various flowers for your butterflies to suck nectar from. When he entered your house, it was like that scene where Alice first sees all the flowers in Wonderland. He felt like a child, seeing all the gorgeous wings floating around the room. He saw a delicately monarch land on a peony and approached it quietly.
"Here hold out your finger like this," you said and showed him how to stand gently and hold out his pointer finger. As he followed your actions, the butterfly gently landed on him. He looked in awe at the insect and you stealthily took a picture of him. The rest of the afternoon, you described to him what flowers butterflies like best and the lengthy process of tending to them before they reached metamorphosis.
Whenever Gaz was on deployment, he would always visit to relax in the butterfly sanctuary. He loved watching as you tended to the flowers and gently fed the butterflies sugar water. Even when he was on a mission, he would be sure to ask about some of his favorite butterflies, even going so far as to name them. "How's my girl, Cressia, doing?" he asked over FaceTime as you walked to find the Great spangled fritillary amongst the zinnias. "Here she is!" you exclaimed and pointed the camera at Cressia, a gorgeous butterfly with golden yellow wings. You could hear someone snicker in the background but Kyle didn't care as he continued to take screenshot after screenshot.
For your first anniversary, Kyle was unfortunately deployed and couldn't celebrate with you. This didn't stop him from showering you with gifts. As you sat in the conservatory, you could hear the doorbell ring. You emerged to find the postman holding two boxes for you, one smaller than the other. You took them inside as you delicately opened up the larger package. Inside, was a note describing the care for 23 painted butterflies along with rows of small cocoons. You smiled as you read the instructions and went to place the new members into their homes. After you got them settled, you opened the small box to reveal a necklace with a small butterfly charm carved from a pearl. A note inside read, "Happy anniversary, now you can carry a butterfly with you anywhere you go."
Ghost - bookbinding
When you first invited Simon over he was quick to notice your many bookshelves all lined with books of the same aesthetic. He knew some of these were Penguin clothbound Classics but was certain they hadn't bound The Hunger Games in their unique cover. As he held The Harry Potter novels and My Year of Rest and Relaxation in his hands, he silently contemplated if he had missed a few years and these were published classics. You came into the library with two glasses and laughed at his bewildered gaze. "You discovered my little hobby, Simon," you joked and offered him a glass. As he sipped on The Paper Plane cocktail, you recounted how you would spend your free time rebinding books that didn't match your aesthetic. "It took me a while but having a matching library like this one is worth it," you said and waved your arm to the rows of books, all with a unifying factor.
As you entered into a long-term relationship, it was clear Simon loved your hobby and indulged in it. Every time he visited, he insisted on bringing you the few books he owned to create Penguin Classic-like covers. From military manuals to a vintage copy of The Art of War, you quickly rebound them and presented him with his new book. He even told you that some of his colleagues had complimented your handiwork. You always blushed in response, citing your eye for design as the cause of all the madness.
Eventually, Simon gifted you with the paperback Penguin Classics. You opened the door to see him carrying a pile of books in his arms. You quickly ushered him to the library where he set them all down on your vintage leather couch. "For the person, that has everything," he said and you went to examine all of the books. He had seemingly bought out the whole collection as you marveled at each of the covers. "Each one of them has an art piece on it," he said and you began to notice the trend. You gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek as you held Wuthering Heights in your hand. He quickly snatched it out of your hands before you could even start to rip off the cover. "Keep these, I know you have a theme going on but it doesn't hurt to have some variety," he said and gave you back the book as you stared up at him.
Now whenever someone comes to visit you, they always notice the black-bound books on display. Although they do stick out, you love recounting the story of how your significant other bought you some of the most prized objects in your collection.
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