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taelophone · 28 days ago

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Friends Don't⋆˙⟡. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Luigi Mangione x Reader TWs: Baby Trapping . Friends With Benefits . Dry Humping . Luigi doesn’t take his boxers off like once LOL . Gross imagery cuz I’m nasty . Penetration . Luigi is implied neurodivergent, specifically autism . Daddy Kink . Glasses Luigi . A/N: ngl this is v depraved as well🙂‍↕️

“No, hush, you don’t get it. It was like, a look…see, this is why I don’t tell y’all stuff!”

The sounds of crinkled and crunchy chip bags rustled, accompanied by the aggressive slam of Kota’s heavy hand placing down his cold bottle of beer on the coffee table.

Bubbles of carbonation fizzed, alcoholic foam bubbling to the neck before retreating into the amber glass. Bodies shuffled, voices murmured, television buzzed, and pages flipped as Luigi, your dearest friend, flipped through the pages of his planner.

“But like…” Lindsay began, popping a few primary-colored M&M’s in her mouth with a throw of her head. “You guys weren’t there, he was literally soul-searching me!”

“Lindsay, please stop being delusional,” Kota sighed, a pitying glint in his eyes to pair perfectly with his cynical smirk.

“I’ll hop up there and shove my foot down your throat, please don’t, Rykler” she sighed, a half-amused pout on her lips as she reached over the coffee table from her crisscrossed position on the floor to drop some popcorn in her mouth.

“Last name is crazy…” He chuckled.

“So wait, when are we all leaving? Next Saturday?” You asked, cutting through the pair’s banter with a subtle reminder to focus.

You crawled off of the floor, the cotton lycra of your leggings dragging against the ivory carpet. Your hands came to rest on the side of Luigi’s thigh, raising your head to peer over at the planner in his hands as he mapped out an itinerary for your trip to Athens, Greece.

You felt it for a moment— his quad muscles tensed under your hands for a moment, quick enough to go unnoticed, but slow enough to raise a flag of shock or fluster.

“Should be,” Luigi began, his middle finger adjusting the bridge of his reading glasses. “The flight should be like…eleven hours. So Lindsay, don't sit by me because I wanna get some sleep.”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” she chuckled, a sarcastic roll of her eyes and a surprisingly elegant flash of her middle finger.

“I know, it’s a curse” he fired back, quick with his tongue. It was like watching siblings go back and forth with each other, each little nitpicking jab aiming to push the other to call a truce or sink the pair into a vicious cycle of verbal blows.

“Anyway, I’m gonna drive Kota home. I can see the glimmer in his eyes when he looks at his keys” Lindsay murmured, side-eying him with both care and annoyance before slowly sliding the black and silver fob into her coat pocket.

“Somebody get this man his keys,” Luigi joked, a boyish grin painting his face while he watched his frat-brother stand up and stretch. A few loud pops, cracks of age, and ease echoing from the tall boy's spine before he shakes himself free of insomnia.

“A’ight, we out. Text me when you get home, Pep. Oh, and,” he paused, picking up his beer from the table with a surprisingly sweet and genuine chuckle. “Don’t fuck it up. You got this bro, ALPHA!” He barked, enunciating his proclamation of Luigi’s leadership with a few hits to his chest.

Whatever that meant.

“I won’t, I promise,” Luigi chuckled, waving at the pair of them as they made their way out of your cozy apartment.

With the pair of them gone, the only company between you and Luigi transitioned into silence. His eyes scanned over the small book, filling the empty boxes of next weekend with blue-inked notes and E.T.A’s.

You watched his hands, now slowly bringing your chin to rest atop his thigh. His concentration was so heavy he almost didn’t notice the way you rested your head and arms on his much larger leg, your head tilted innocently to the side like a little doe, discovering man for the first time.

Almost.

“Why are you still on the floor?” He asked with a tiny smile, not once removing his gaze from the journal in front of him.

“It’s comfy” you shrugged, flicking your eyes up to his. The black frames of his browline glasses glimmered until the pale yellow light of the overhead lamp, little white highlights flashing every once in a while with a slight tilt of his head.

He hummed, dropping his pen in the inner hinge of his planner before closing it entirely. He sat it down on the table in front of him, stretching out his arms with a barely audible groan.

“Come up here, I don’t want you to hurt your knees. You’ll get carpet burn…” he sighed, crossing his arms over his stomach as he peered into your eyes.

“But I’m comfortable” you sighed, propping your elbows up on his thigh.

“C’mon, your knees are gonna feel terrible,” he sighed, reaching over to scoop you up from under your shoulders just to set you next to him on the couch.

“I was comfortable on the floor, c’mon man…” you sighed, glaring at him through your peripheral. Your faux annoyance soon melted, bringing your temple to rest against his sturdy shoulder while he fidgeted with the silver chain around his neck.

“But you’ll be the first one to complain about knee pain later” he stated, shooting you an amused side-eye that mirrored your own.

“Yeah well I don’t get knee pain from sitting on the carpet—“ you teased, a bright and tongued smile on your face.

“Aht-! Behave yourself,” He mused, his brows shooting up as high as the muscles in his face would allow, a pinkish tint on the tip of his nose. Luigi was the last man to ever speak on the subject of behavior— after all, he was almost as ill-mannered and impatient as you.

You weren’t really sure where you stood with Luigi. The lines had long since blurred and distorted into a muddy and grotesque portrait— platonic wires plugging themselves into outlets of intimacy that deviated from the standard friendship.

You knew what his hair felt like between your interdigitals, the soft curls of cocoa brown finding their way into your palms every other night. It wasn’t a question of how it would happen next, it was only when.

It always started in similar ways. Two friends left alone for too long, searing seduction and sexual tension filling the empty space between the both of you.

It was almost pathetic the way you managed to tangle your limbs together every time you laid eyes on each other for too long. Hands gripping and grabbing at anything they could, like frustrated virgins relieving themselves of chastity.

“I’m so well-behaved,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at him with a lopsided smile. Your head fell to the side, its refuge found on the blade of his shoulder.

“Stop it” he giggled, low and steady in his chest before he shifted to pick up his planner once more. “You guys are evil…making me plan the trip alone.”

“We’re not evil, we just suck at planning. Isn’t organizing and planning your thing?” You joked, your top row of teeth pulling in your bottom lip in sarcastic banter.

“Oh, okay,” he laughed, the silver bridge of his readers slipping down the slope of his nose slightly with the sudden movement of his head being thrown back.

“It’s okay, we’re just keeping the nerd well-fed,” you said, watching him fill in the last few notes and details in the tiny black lines.

He paused, his brows pinching together with a slightly stretched smirk on his lips. He was confused, of course, but deeply amused by your words.

“I don’t think I’m a nerd,” he said, readjusting his glasses with the knuckle of his pointer finger.

You stared at him, looking him up and down in silent protest. The glasses, the annotated planner in his hand, his monochrome Adidas hoodie, and his dorky black basketball shorts as he faced you with a boyish smile.

“Okay, Luigi…whatever you say!” You nodded, a clear tone of disbelief dripping from your words.

He paused, a small pout on his lips as he leaned back further onto the couch.

“Am I actually that nerdy…?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“But it’s ok you’re sexy, so you’re a hot nerd,” you said, fluffing the curls at the back of his head briefly.

“Wow. Thanks. I feel so much better. My heart is just overwhelmed with gratitude” he deadpanned, a subtle nod of his head really solidifying his joy.

He nodded with an unenthusiastic smile, fiddling with the bow-tied drawstring on his black shorts, the cheap polyester bunching up slightly with his gentle tug on the knot.

You watched his hands, curiosity killing you slowly as you succumbed to the strange sensory captivation.

“You shouldn’t look at people’s dicks, it’s not polite” He murmured, letting a teasing chortle slip as his hands ceased their relentless stimming.

“Oh shut up,” you gasped, immediately lifting your head from his shoulder to land a playful blow on his chest. “I was watching you be an idiot with your shorts, actually.”

“Wow,” he drawled, carrying out the w sound for as long as he could while shaking his head slowly. “So you make me plan cuz I’m ’good at it’, AND make fun of me stimming? You’re two for two right now!”

“Oh my god I hate you” you sighed, scooting away from him.

“No, you love me,” he said, pulling you back towards him by the hem of your pink sweatpants. “My dick too, apparently.”

“Ew don’t be gross, Luigi,” you said, raising your eyebrows at his sudden forward attitude. He wasn’t normally handsy or forward, but this was a welcome change.

“We can do something gross,” he joked, a shy and almost childish giggle marking the end of his sentence as a reddish blush crept up to his cheeks.

“Luigi!” You scolded, sporting a shocked smile as he abandoned your gaze.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s the beer,” he sighed, throwing his hands up in faux defense.

You giggled, crossing your arms and sinking further into the couch, letting the tension melt away from your spine and shoulders.

“Imagine not being able to handle your liquor…” you teased, poking his chest with the manicured tip of your finger before spaying your hand over his chest, gently pushing him.

“I can handle my alcohol just fine,” he said, raising a brow at your hand as it slowly began to feel around his slightly firmed pec muscles.

“You know what else you can handle?” You mused, not even bothering the way you squished his pecs with giddy giggles.

“Oh, but I’m gross,” he laughed, his opposite eyebrow joining its twin in its raised shock.

“Your boobs are big” you murmured, giving one final squish to both of his muscles before withdrawing your hands. To your surprise, Luigi grabbed your wrists, situating them on either of his shoulders as he pulled you into his lap by the dip of both of your hips.

“Actually, they’re called pectorals…not boobs,” he began, slowly diving into a lengthy rant on anatomy and how the male body differs from the female body.

Your eyes began to glaze over, his hands holding the top of your hips with a firm, but docile grasp on your delicate skin. His deep and suave voice felt like fluttering feathers brushing across your soul, plucking your heartstrings with arousal.

“You have boobs, I don’t have boobs…I don’t think I do anyway, but I have been in the gym a lot more—“

He paused, a sudden wave of pleasure washing over him, a quiet and muffled grunt sounding from the depths of his throat as he was torn from his absent-minded rant. His eyes shot open, his pupils dilating and locking on your form.

Your head tilted forward, eyes gently closed in bliss, and tiny gusts of wind left your lips as you rocked your hips back and forth against his. His bottom lip curled over his bottom row of teeth, his tongue jetting out to brush against it.

“Oh wow…” he murmured, as quiet as distant waves on the salty shores— a reminder that good times were ahead the further along you rode. “That’s new.”

You smiled, your bottom lip coming between your teeth in lustful seduction. He held on to your hip bones, his breathing slowing down with the weight of each breath as he guided you back and forth.

“You’re rude, you weren’t even listening to my important anatomy lesson…I plan, cook, entertain you, organize for you, and help you get your rocks off and this is how you treat me?” He rasped, the front of his canines coming into view as he smiled while his tongue poked out between his teeth.

You whined breathily, his hands pressing you further against the large bulge in his shorts, angry and twitchy underneath the cheap synthetic fabric. He was big— intimidatingly girthy underneath you as it begged to be set free.

You wanted to go faster, your hips stuttering as you attempted to pick up the pace, but Luigi’s firm hold on your hips prevented you from grinding at your own pace. You huffed, glancing up at him with an annoyed glint in your eyes.

“Mmmh, not yet…you did this, not me. Finish what you started,” he mumbled, dragging your hips along his painfully slow. His head tilted back, the wall behind him smashing the top of his curls down as his eyes fluttered shut to concentrate on the feeling.

“Lu, c’mon, don’t be cruel…” you sighed, your face twisting in disappointment and arousal. The push and pull was enough to keep you tingly, the cotton on your panties soaking with each passing second, but not enough to really get you anywhere in under twenty minutes.

“Hm, am I? What have you been to me this whole time…” he chuckled, watching your expressions closely as annoyance and arousal fought for dominance on your face.

His hands were heavy, kneading the flesh at the back of your upper thighs possessively. Hot with fever— itching with lust, it was disgustingly intimate.

His hands traveled your body like it was normal, each depraved and desperate squeeze of his hands fueled by the hunger of a man starved. Your poor puffy and practically pulsing clot ached for action, anything to push you over the edge he kept you so far away from.

“Luigi…come on…” you whined, frantically rutting your hips against his. Much to your surprise, his hands didn’t restrict you from your fervent rocking, letting you capsize against him again and again like a creaky old boat seeking land in a storm.

Deep and sharp breaths filled his lungs, providing the necessary oxygen he needed to survive until his next ragged breath. He liked watching you lose your self-control on top of him— it was so beautiful.

He always had a habit of attempting to fix things, broken or not, and rebuilding them into something…better. What would look better to him, is if you were a babbling twitching mess on his lap.

“Is this too gross for you? Hmm?” He purred, his hands falling to his sides as he left you to do all the work yourself. He watched as you huffed and whined, rolling your hips against his painfully hard bulge again and again.

“Shut…shut up, please—“ you panted, hot and heavy breaths drying up your mouth as you focused your dwindling amounts of energy on riding each wave to euphoria.

“Aht, don’t be a brat,” he warned, popping you on the side of your thigh with a slight scrunch of his nose. “Say you’re sorry.”

By now your eyes burned with the same fire that nipped at your thighs; salty, sinful, seductive tears glossing your waterline better than Maybelline could ever hope to shine. Pulsing above him with quiet whines, your nails clawing into the muscles on his shoulders while his large hand rubbed the spot he slapped to soothe the sting.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Daddy…” you winced, the simple motion enough to humble yourself. You’d never expect him to be a rough man at all, but Luigi was a man full of surprises.

He chuckled briefly, his face twitching with building pleasure as he watched you work your legs and hips to keep your rhythm. He listened to your whines grow louder, the way your rhythm began to falter sent almost sadistic sparks of giddy excitement coursing through his veins.

“Aw, it’s not enough for you? Do you need my help?” He teased, his large palms coming up to rest on your hips in a taunting manner.

“Yes…yes, please, my legs hurt—! Need help,” you panted, leaning forward to press wet and open-mouthed kisses to his neck and jaw in hopes of convincing him to give you some mercy.

“Poor baby,” he huffed, pulling your sweatpants down your hips. “You need me for everything…planning, company, an orgasm…”

He sighed, pulling his shorts down just enough to expose his boxers, not even bothering to take them off as he pulled his dick out of the fly of his boxers. He slid your cotton panties to the side, the pads of his fingers pressing into the supple flesh of your sides, skewering you down onto him.

You cried out, the stretch just as unfamiliar as it was every single time. He was big; massive even as he took sharp advantage of the slick that had glossed up and decorated your folds from failing to bring yourself to an orgasm moments prior.

“I can’t say no to you…it’s a fucking problem…” he whined, using your smaller body like his own toy as he pistoned you up and down his girthy dick.

You moshed, tears of pleasure and painful sensitivity dribbling down your face as fast as you could blink. Mascara coursed from your lashes, violating the pristine, crystal-like water that once held nothing but emotion.

Dirty like muddy water, tainted with a reminder of how your very own friend makes you feel almost daily. Never mind the years of careful boundary building and shared experiences— you’d always find yourself tangled within each other.

Again.

And again.

Paff! Paff! Paff! Paff!

It was disgusting—, your mingled moans and sounds of sticky and hot fabric meeting in the space between you repeatedly. Soaked panties sticking to your lips, boxers caving in with the weight of dribbled precum and sticking to his lower abdomen.

He was a freak for not bothering to take his boxers off, fully aware of the consequences if he chose to keep them on. Luigi didn’t seem to care, however, he was overjoyed with the aspect of you ruining his perfectly new Calvin Kleins.

No amount of money could replace the memory of you dripping down his length and onto the soft material with a loud, helpless shout of his name.

“Close…” you shrieked, using up the last of your breath to warn him of your rapidly approaching climax.

But he already knew that. He knew from the moment you began to flutter and convulse around him that you were nearing your edge.

“I know, I know…” he purred, using your hazy, pleasure-driven state to suck on the side of your neck.

He left blue and purple bruises in his wake, high enough to be annoying to attempt to hide later. If you could give him attitude and mouth, he could give you hickeys.

You stilled, a loud cry leaving your lips as your hands clawed and scratched at his back and shoulders. Warm white flashed beyond your eyelids, your poor twitchy cunt convulsing around Luigi’s dick and painting him pearly.

He watched in awe, his eyes honed in on the scene before him as you shuddered against his chest. At that moment, only one thought crossed his mind as he pistoned you up and down on him.

“Sorry…!” He whined, your slow eyes widening in realization as his thrusts became more and more erratic.

Heavy and milky ropes of cum shot directly through you, pollinating the flowers of your cervix with a loud grunt. His hands slammed your hips down, holding you in place while giving him a loud whimper.

“Luigi, what the fuck!” You moaned, slowly regaining your consciousness as he lazily continued to pump up into you.

“Moment of weakness…” He murmured, the devilish smirk glued to his fanged features like the cat that ate the canary. Purring with pride, and stained with the sweet sweet nectar of his reward.

His grey boxers were now a deep, charcoal grey, fucking every drop of his load back into you slowly.

“It’s fine. I'll buy you a plan B…”

#luigi mangione thoughts #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione fanfiction #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione x yn #luigi mangione x y/n

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barnesafterglow · 11 days ago

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the art of missing someone

summary: bucky barnes was a lot, but he would always be yours

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: brief college then modern au, little bit of angst, don't ask if this is based off personal experience i will cry, smut (MINORS DNI!) [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)], confessions, idk man i'm just here

a/n: first fic of 2025!! this was a bitch and i still lowkey hate it but it is what it is

main masterlist - i no longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary for updates!

The thing about Bucky Barnes was, well, he’s kind of an asshole.

In a funny way, really, but an asshole through and through and, for some reason, that did it for you.

It did it for you so much, in fact, that you had been going in circles with him for years now. You met him originally at a party in college; you didn’t know anyone except for your roommate, Natasha, and she introduced you. You immediately gravitated towards him, with his quick wit and sharp opinions, you felt like you could talk to him about anything. He kept close to you the entire night, getting more touchy as the evening dragged on, until the tipping point came.

You were finishing up a game of beer pong where you and Bucky absolutely dominated, and as you sank the last cup, he picked you up, swinging you around before setting you back on your feet. The thing is, he didn’t really let you go. You stood there, in the middle of a crowded party, with his arms around you and it was like everyone else disappeared.

Searching your eyes for permission, he bent his head down and his lips met yours and that was really the beginning of it all. It was unlike any kiss you had ever had, sweet but a little desperate and you craved more.

It became a thing, after that. You would see Bucky at a party, make nice for a few hours, then end up in a closet or empty bedroom making out until someone came to find you.

But more than that, Bucky became your friend. He was who you talked to in your darkest moments, who you sent stupid videos to, everything, and you liked it like that.

That is, until everything got turned on its head.

It happened right after graduation. You had just moved into your own apartment and were waiting for Bucky to come over for movie night. You hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, the communication very much lacking, but you figured it was just a busy time for both of you and once you got settled, everything would be fine.

That is, until you got a phone call as you closed the microwave door and started the popcorn. Immediately seeing Bucky’s name, you wiped your hands and answered.

“Hey, you almost here?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a sigh.

“I- I don’t know how to say this,” Bucky started, and you found yourself growing nervous. There was nothing you and Bucky couldn’t talk about. Well, almost nothing. “Me and Dot, well, we’ve been talking and…”

His voice trailed off, the line going quiet again. But you were going to make him say it.

“We’re getting back together. She really wants to make it work this time.”

And there it was. Dot was Bucky’s on again-off again for the last several years, stretching back to before you even knew him, and it was a sore spot in your friendship. They had mostly been “off” in the time you’d known him, save for a few memorable occasions where she wormed her way back into his life for a couple weeks just to break his heart all over again. It was safe to say she was not your favorite person, and you certainly weren’t hers.

“Bucky…” you started, but he cut you off.

“No, I know what you’re thinking.” He actually probably had no clue how evil the thoughts you had were, but you weren’t going to enlighten him. “But it’s serious this time, we’ve been talking since graduation and we’re both ready to give this a real shot, without all the bullshit.”

He sounded so sincere, and he was your best friend, so you took a deep breath and sighed, accepting the fact that if you wanted Bucky in your life, this was just something you would have to deal with.

You could hear his relieved laugh on the other end, and you felt your stomach give an odd lurch, like someone had pulled a carpet out from under you.

“I knew you would understand, thank you.”

“Of course, Buck. Now, what about movie night?”

Another beat of silence, then, just like you knew it would happen:

“I can’t, Dot is coming over.”

You wanted to argue, to scream, to make him feel bad about choosing her over you, but hadn’t he already? So instead, you mumbled a quiet agreement and hung up, not wanting to talk to him any longer. Already, it felt like the beginning of the end.

And you weren’t sure you were ready for that.

It didn’t even happen slowly, is the worst part. You didn’t see Bucky that night, or any night for the weeks that followed. It wasn’t until you saw him at the coffee shop by your apartment that you were able to talk to him.

You sat down at his table, no longer interested in placid excuses and apologies, and asked him point blank what was going on.

“I’m just trying to keep Dot happy.”

“By staying away from me?” You were frustrated, sure, but under that really you were just hurt. “Listen, you know I don’t like her, but I would never ask you to choose between us. That’s not fair and if she cared about you like she said she does, then she wouldn’t either.”

“It’s not like that!” His voice was raising, just a little, so you knew he was just being defensive. He must have heard it too because he cleared his throat, voicing going back to normal. “I just don’t want to cause any problems.”

You nodded, grabbing your coffee as you stood up, and headed for the door. If he was willing to let your friendship go, then you weren’t going to fight him on it. So you left, face heated with embarrassment and tears threatening to spill over.

As you passed the threshold to the coffee shop back onto the sidewalk, you pulled your headphones on, ignoring the bustle of the city and Bucky still watching you leave through the window.

Adjusting to a life without Bucky was weird, you had to admit, but you did it anyway. The first few weeks were the hardest, when he was the first person you wanted to text during any occasion, but eventually that muscle memory faded until you were reaching out to the people who actually valued you in their life.

Almost a year passed, and you moved on in all the ways you could. You heard Bucky moved back across the river to Brooklyn and that was about all you knew; your friends avoided the mention of even his name if they could help it, even though you knew at the very least Steve and Natasha still talked to him.

You just hoped he was happy, no matter what he was doing.

It was a cold January night when the notification came through. Wanda had recently convinced you to get on a dating app, even though you were perfectly content being single, thank you, but you had to admit the attention didn’t hurt.

You weren’t expecting much when your phone chimed and you unlocked it without even looking at the notification. Which is how you came face to face with Bucky’s Hinge profile, and a message attached to a picture of you that you knew he had taken saying: hey, you look familiar.

Was that really how he was going to make amends, on a dating app?

You supposed it was kind of funny, in that asshole way of his, and you stared at the message for another moment before responding.

oh, i know you?

if you want to

And, well, that was the thing. You did want to. No matter what he did, no matter how much he hurt you, he was still your best friend. Your Bucky.

Instead of answering, you pulled up a contact you hadn’t opened in months and pressed call. It rang one time before a familiar voice flooded the other end.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hey, Buck.”

It was a healthy conversation, if you were being honest. Bucky apologized, told you he and Dot were done for good this time and, against your better judgment, you accepted it. You talked for hours after that, catching up on life and reminiscing on old memories, until you checked the time.

“Shit, it’s late,” you said as you put the phone back to your ear. “Almost midnight.”

And then, the words you dreaded but wanted desperately.

“Come over.”

“To Brooklyn? Buck I can’t take the subway this late.”

“I’ll pay for your Uber. Just come over.” You could hear the words he wanted to say, the ones on the tip of his tongue that he just wouldn’t force out.

“Well, I did miss you.” You tried to press it, to make him say it, but he only hummed on the other end.

“So is that a yes?”

You looked down at yourself, cozied up in sweatpants and a hoodie that you were almost entirely sure was Bucky’s, and sighed.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, your Uber will be there in 8 minutes.”

You didn’t have time to wonder how he got your new address - probably one of your mutual friends, maybe he had been keeping more tabs on you than you had on him - and shot up from the couch. With no time to change, you headed to the bathroom and brushed your teeth before taming your hair in the best way you could. As you were stuffing some clothes in an overnight bag - just in case, you told yourself - your phone chimed with a text from Bucky that your Uber had arrived.

In a whirlwind, you rushed to the car where the driver seemed very put off at having to wait a whole 90 seconds for you to walk four flights of stairs, and slid in.

The whole ride there you were nervous. The thing with Bucky was, despite many drunken hookups, you’d never actually had sex. You weren’t really sure why, just that it had never happened and you had been grateful for it in the long run. You weren’t even sure if it would happen tonight, if he still wanted you like that. Even with all your talking and catching up, you hadn’t been brave enough to ask what this meant.

At nearly 1am, your Uber pulled up outside a beautiful Brooklyn brownstone and, there on the front porch, stood Bucky.

He wrapped you in his arms as he stood in front of you, and it all felt so heartbreakingly familiar you gave in immediately, all the tension leaking from your body at the feeling Bucky gave you.

“Hey,” he said softly into your hair. “Come on in.”

Bucky’s house was so far from his old college apartment it was frightening, yet it couldn’t have felt more like Bucky. More like home.

You took in your surroundings, shelves of books and vintage furniture and warm tones, it was almost like stepping back into your own place, the aesthetics were so similar. That was the funny feeling in your chest, you were sure.

Eventually, you ended up on Bucky’s couch with some superhero movie on, not really watching it but still grateful for its background noise to fill the room with each lull in the conversation. Not that there were many, one thing that came easy with Bucky had always been talking - although neither of you did much of that when it really mattered; you figured you could put that out of your mind for now.

Over the course of the movie, you and Bucky shifted closer together until your thighs were pressed flush and you could feel the air from each of his exaggerated hand movements. It wasn’t until a wayward wave nearly grazed your nose that you truly realized how close you had become, and the sight of Bucky’s eyes shifting subtly to your lips has your self restraint at an all time low.

Fuck it, you thought. You had wanted this for so long, but you also knew you could live without Bucky if everything went tits up. It was a sad thought, that, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go. With every bit of courage you had, you let your hand float up to cup Bucky’s cheek, eyes searching for any sort of hesitation. When you found none, you leaned forward to close the admittedly small gap between your lips.

It was electric. Never had a kiss from someone else ever lit a fire inside you the way one from Bucky did. It started off slow, searching, a chance to reacquaint yourselves. But the second Bucky’s hand reached to tangle in your hair, everything shifted.

Suddenly you were pulled in Bucky’s lap, legs straddling his, lips desperate for a taste of what you’d missed for so long. It was everything you hadn’t let yourself wish for, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to be missing it again anytime soon.

It wasn’t until your shirts were on the floor and Bucky was making quick work of your clasped bra that you thought maybe it would be smart to just slow down. Just for a second, just to get your bearings.

An honest to god whine fell from his lips as you pulled back, stopping his hands from undressing you any further.

“Buck,” you whispered, forehead pressed to his, hands cupping his face as if he was something precious. Though you supposed he was, to you at least. “What’s going on?”

“I just…” His voice trailed off, obviously unsure of himself even though this at least was familiar territory. What was to come next, however, was not. “I can’t go another day without making you mine.”

Your core tightened at the words, vivid memories of what Bucky’s hands and mouth could do; fantasies of what else he could do invaded as well as suddenly talking didn’t seem like a priority anymore.

“Take me to bed.” And that was all he needed.

Bucky scooped you up bridal style, carrying you across the threshold of his bedroom and laying you gently on his bed. Your eyes darted around, wanting more of snippets of the life Bucky had built here, but you were quickly distracted by his body covering yours, the weight of him pressed between your thighs was comforting and intoxicating.

Bucky’s touch proved even more distracting as he shed you of your bra, mouth immediately latching to one nipple, the little nips and sucks enough to drive you crazy on their own, while his hands pinched at the other. He continued his assault until you were dizzy with want, then he trailed down your body with his mouth, not leaving an inch of skin undiscovered until he reached the waistband of your sweatpants.

He pulled them down just an inch, then his eyes shot up to meet yours at the discovery.

“No underwear?” His voice was deep, husky, almost fucked out if you really thought about it. It was a thrill that your hold on him was so tight that just the thought of you without underwear was enough to leave him reeling just a little bit.

You batted your eyes innocently. “Someone didn’t give me much warning about my Uber, I apologize.”

The giggle in your voice suggested the insincerity of your apology, but it didn’t deter Bucky as he pulled your pants from your body, mouth and hands still exploring.

His fingers traced unknown patterns along your inner thighs, gently pushing them apart until you were fully exposed to him. You felt nervous all of a sudden, like you had never been in this position before. You had, of course, but never sober, and never with Bucky looking at you so attentively - like he was going to eat you alive.

It was intense, having Bucky’s eyes bore into you as he lowered his mouth to your core, starting with gentle kitten licks until your hips were bucking, searching for more friction. One of his hands pinned your hips to the bed, while the other slipped through your folds, spreading spit and slick, before he slipped one inside of you. Then two, then three, until you were begging for release.

All it took was a soft whisper of come on, baby and a crook of Bucky’s fingers and you were falling apart, the intensity of your orgasm whipping through you, and as you floated back down to your senses, Bucky was still going.

It was feverish, like he couldn’t get enough of your pleasure, and each twitch and moan encouraged him until your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him away from your spent body.

He let out a protest, but you silenced it by pressing your lips to his, moaning at the taste of yourself as his tongue pressed into your mouth. You were lost in the sensation, letting yourself be manhandled until you were once again in Bucky’s lap. Sometime while you had been transported to another planet, his pants had been shed and you were oh so close to getting everything you ever wanted.

With your mouth still pressed to his, you rolled your hips, feeling the weight of him sliding along you. You kept at it, teasing and grinding until he thrust his hips and there it was; one slight adjustment and the feeling of Bucky stretching you out to was more overwhelming than you could have imagined.

Your hips stilled, as did Bucky’s, letting you adjust to him until you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, your way of telling him that you were okay, that he could move.

His thrusts started slowly, letting you feel every inch of him until you were begging for more. When his hands stopped roaming to grip your hips tightly, you knew you were done for.

Bucky held you in place, his hips snapping up to fuck into you and all you could do was hold on for the ride.

You were so overwhelmed you almost missed Bucky’s words, mixed in with his moans, but once you caught them, they were as clear as day:

I missed you.

Over and over, Bucky was repeating the words, interspersed with groans and heavy panting, but your heart restricted regardless

He missed you. Bucky missed you.

With your thoughts such a jumbled mess, reveling in the fact that this was really happening, your orgasm snuck up on you. One second you were floating on the high of Bucky and the next you were crashing, falling, and he was right there to catch you as you came down.

His hips slowed, stuttering as he spilled into you with one final thrust.

For a moment, the world around you didn’t exist. All there was was this moment, with Bucky’s arms around you and your head buried in his shoulder. Everything came back at once: your harsh breaths, the noise of the TV far away in the living room, and Bucky’s hushed whispers as he held you.

“I missed you so much.” You didn’t respond for a moment, but you lifted your head to meet Bucky’s eyes. In them lay the sincerity of his words, vulnerable now that they weren’t being said in the heat of the moment.

“I missed you too, Buck.”

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #marvel fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfic #tiff writes #the art of missing someone

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 9 months ago

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Imagine...A Rainy Day At The Bunker

Pairing: Dean x reader

_______

“Mind grabbing another beer while you’re up?” asked Dean from bed. He held up an empty and you tucked it under your arm, carrying the empty bowl of popcorn out with you as well. Most of the lights in the halls were dim, a cozy warm setting filling the space. Dean had turned up the heat about an hour ago and now the bunker was perfect to have a quiet day in. Especially considering it was pouring rain outside.

With a hum you turned the corner into the kitchen, Sam working on a pumpkin pie from the looks of it.

“Aw, look at you being a sweet little brother,” you said, putting the bowl on the counter and setting the bottle in the bin underneath.

“I have my moments. Also, it’s your turn to get the takeout tonight,” he said with a grin.

“But we’re watching a movie and cuddling. You know how disappointed your brother gets if he doesn’t have his cuddle time,” you said. Sam gave you a bitch face and you pouted, putting on your puppy dog eyes.

“Fine,” he said. “You’re lucky you look adorable and comfy right now.”

“I’ll take your turn next week,” you said, ruffling his hair before you took a beer out of the fridge and set about making another cup of hot chocolate for yourself. “You want one?”

“I got a cup of tea going but thanks,” he said. You hummed to yourself as you found some milk and another packet of instant mix, heating it up in the microwave while Sam worked. “It’s nice to see you guys happy again. I missed that.”

“We did too. I did some pretty messed up crap when I was a demon. It took some time to work through it.”

“Finally believe him that he was never mad?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. He wanted to help me was all, he never blamed me for what I did,” you said.

“Why would he, runt?” he teased.

“I worry,” you said, taking your mug out. “You wanna watch with us when you’re all done?”

“Later on. Dean needs his cuddle time after all,” he chuckled.

“Love you, Sammy. Let us know when you get hungry for dinner,” you said.

“Love you too,” he said. You took your mug and Dean’s beer back to your room to find him sprawled out in bed in his pajamas.

“Hello, cutie,” you said.

“Cutie,” said Dean, smiling as you put the drinks on the nightstand. You slid into bed next to him, Dean wrapping his arm around your back and pulling the blanket over both your laps. “Ready to watch the next movie, sweetheart?”

“I’d love to, Dean.”

_____

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean fanfiction #dean x #dean winchester fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean x you #dean imgine

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ofstarsandvibranium · 6 months ago

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Playing with Fire: The House

Fandom: Marvel (Dad’s Best Friend AU)

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad's coworker and best friend, Bucky, decides to tag along with you on your errands after your boyfriend bailed on you last minute.

A/N: This was long overdo! But here's the last part of Playing with Fire! Reader is in her mid/lates 20s. Bucky is in his early 40s!

Warning: smut - oral (f receiving), p in v

The Book Store | The Photobooth | The Restaurant

After your errands and lunch with Bucky, he drives you guys back to your house. When you enter, your dad is sitting on the couch watching tv.

"Hey! Get everything done?"

You nod, "Yup! Buck was surprisingly very helpful," you playfully nudge the older man and he snorts.

"Well, she was being a brat the entire day."

You slap his arm, "Was not!"

Bucky chuckles, "Okay, okay. You weren't." he looks to your dad, "It was a good day. Things go okay at the office?"

Your dad lets out a deep breath, and holds up the beer in his hand, "This is my second beer of the day, so that should tell you how it went."

"Yikes," Bucky mumbles and joins your dad on the couch.

As you go through the stuff you purchased today, you pull out the DVD Bucky bought earlier, "Oh! Bucky found this movie at Carol's bookshop," you toss it to Bucky, who handed it to your dad.

"Woah! I haven't seen this movie in forever!"

You snort at your dad's excitement, "I guess I'll go change, make some popcorn and we can watch it?"

"Sounds good," your dad responds and looks at Buck, "You stayin'?"

He shrugs, "Yeah, I guess I'll stay around you losers for a little longer," he looks over at you and gives you a wink. You roll your eyes at him and head to your room to change into something more comfortable.

When you come back down, Bucky's in the kitchen grabbing himself a beer. You walk past him to grab a bowl and a bag of popcorn. He glances your way and then doubles back.

His eyes rake your body as you wear tight work out shorts and a thin strapped tank top. You're standing in front of the microwave, waiting for the popcorn to pop.

With a quick glance at your dad in the living room, Bucky moves to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips. You gasp in surprise and hiss, "Bucky-"

He leans in, lips hovering over your ears and he whispers, "You look so fucking good in this outfit." He immediately pulls away and you spin to look at him. He gives you a smirk and a wink, exiting the kitchen as if nothing happened.

You let out a deep breath, mentally cursing yourself and your dad's best friend for getting you riled up.

You shake off the tingling sensation you felt when Bucky held you and whispered in your ear. No. You can't do this. You can't feel this way. You have a boyfriend!

When the microwave beeps, you immediately pull it out and dump the contents into a large bowl. You grab a water bottle for yourself and head into the living room.

Bucky and your dad sit on opposite ends of the couch, leaving the middle for you. You turn off the lights and plop in between them. You pull a blanket over yourself, the bowl of popcorn nestling in your lap, "Okay, ready!"

Your dad pushes play and the movie begins. Bucky immediately stretches his arms out and rests one along the couch, practically hovering over your shoulders.

You immediately shoot him a look and he just shrugs, turning his attention to the tv. The movie is an action comedy. The dialogue and humor is dated, but you still find it enjoyable. Bucky and your dad laugh throughout the movie. You chuckle at some points, but you're mainly there for the vibes.

Halfway through the movie, your dad loudly yawns and apologizes. You pause the movie, "You can head to bed if you want. It's getting late anyways."

He glances at the time and frowns, "It's only 9:30."

"Isn't that late for you old guys?" you ask with a smirk.

Bucky snorts and your dad chuckles, "Alright, you brat," he says affectionally, "I'm surprised you're not tired from running all over town with Bucky."

You shrug, "My youthful energy keeps me up."

"Hm, well, I am exhausted from work today, so I'll head to bed early," he points at Bucky, "See you tomorrow. Don't let this one," he points at you, "Bully you like she does to me."

Bucky gives a salute, "I'll keep her in check. Good night, man."

"Night, Buck," your dad pecks a kiss to your head, "Good night. Behave. Don't stay up too late."

"Got it! Night, dad!" you give him a wave and watch as he heads to his bedroom. You continue the movie, eyes glued to the screen.

The hair raises on the back of your neck as Bucky's fingers start drawing shapes along your shoulder.

"Bucky-"

"I'm not doin' anything, sugar. Be a good girl and watch the movie."

You bite back a moan. The way his voice was low and rasp when he said that, it definitely aroused you and you mentally scold yourself for it.

Bucky leans in as he grabs some popcorn from the bowl on your lap. He takes this opportunity to scoot closer to you.

You do your best to watch the movie but you don't even know what's been happening for the past few minutes.

Bucky leans in again and smells you, murmuring against your skin, "You smell so good, sugar. So sweet," his fingers play with the thin strap of your top, "Bet you taste sweet too."

You turn to him with a glare, "Bucky, stop. I have a boyfriend. I know you don't think he treats me right or whatever, but this needs to stop. I know you're trying to prove a point but I just-fuck."

Bucky immediately drops the act. He looks at you with remorse, "I'm sorry. I-I was pushing your boundaries and that was wrong of me." he distances himself from you, "I just," he pauses and runs a hand down his face, "You're a beautiful, smart, and sweet young woman. You deserve to be properly loved and cared for. This John guy doesn't seem like he's doing that for you. I just want you to know that you deserve better." he promptly stands from the couch, "I think I should head out now. I am sorry, sugar, truly." He gives you a nod then lets himself out of your house. You slump into the couch and bring a pillow to your face, screaming into the fabric.

_______________________________

A Week Later

You're annoyed. You're annoyed with yourself, with John, but most importantly, Bucky.

Bucky was right and you kind of hate him for it. John treated you like shit and what's even worse is while you were out running errands with Bucky and mentally scolding yourself for finding your dad's best friend attractive, John was fucking some other woman behind your back! He'd been cheating on you this entire time and you defended him when Bucky opposed him.

Ugh. What a fucking mess.

You're so upset and annoyed with Bucky that you drive over to his place to tell him so.

Your chest his heaving as you waltz up to his door and knock hard.

And of fucking course, he answers the door wearing a tight tshirt and gray sweatpants. He looks at you confused, "Sugar? You okay?"

You push past him, entering his home, "No, I'm not okay! I'm so annoyed with you!"

He cocks a brow, crossing his arms over his chest, causing the fabric of the sleeves to hug his biceps even more, "What did I do?"

"You were fucking right! John wasn't treating me well and he certainly didn't care for me as much as he said he was because he was fucking cheating on me!"

Bucky looks at you confused, "Wait, so your now ex-boyfriend cheated on you, yet you're upset with me?"

"Because you were right and I was feeling guilty for finding you attractive while I was still with John but that didn't even matter 'cause he was cheating on me a majority of our relationship!"

Bucky tries to hold back a smirk and you groan, "Stop that! Stop looking so fucking hot and riling me up! I hate it! I hate that now I see you as someone more than just my dad's best friend! I hate that I see you as this older guy who's smart and funny, annoying but handsome, dorky and also sexy and it frustrates me!"

Bucky licks his lips and steps closer to you, "Then why don't we do something about that frustration, sugar?"

Fire. You're playing with fire. This is your dad's best friend and yet you can't help but want him. You are a moth and Bucky is a flame and you're desperate for his warmth and glow.

"Fuck it," you mumble before pulling him by the back of his neck, pressing your lips to his.

Bucky doesn't hesitate to deepen the kiss. He grips you by the waist, pulling you closer. His hands move back to grip your ass, causing you to moan into the kiss.

He pulls away just enough to murmur, "You sure about this?"

You look into his bright blue eyes and smirk, "Show me how a real man fucks, Bucky."

You watch as his eyes dilate and he practically growls, "With pleasure." He takes your hand pulling you straight to his bedroom. You've been everywhere in his house when you and your dad come over, but you've never been inside his room.

It's just like the rest of his house, dark colors, photos and knick knacks scattered around. Some paintings that his friend Steve had done, donning the walls.

You don't get much time to take in the room because Bucky picks you up and tosses you onto his bed. You giggle as you bounce a bit.

He falls to his knees, his hands sliding up your legs, "I'll treat you like a fucking queen, sugar. Show you how you're supposed to treated." he tugs down your leggings, tossing them to the floor.

He teases you through your underwear. He smirks as he feels how wet you are already, "Already soaking for me, baby? That's what I do to ya, huh?" He pulls you closer to him by the ankles. He presses a kiss over your clothed core and you whine.

"Buck, please."

"Whatcha want, pretty baby? Hm? Use your words?"

"Fuck me with your tongue. Please? I wanna feel your mouth on me."

He chuckles, "Whatever the lady wants, she gets," he quickly pulls off your underwear. Unbeknownst to you, he pockets the garment. He brings you even closer, your thighs sandwiching his head. He spreads you open and licks a stripe up your slit, causing your breath to hitch.

He moans as he tastes all of you, his tongue delving deep inside to then circle around your clit. Bucky watches you with hooded eyes as you grip his bedsheets in pleasure. Your back arched, eyes closed, and mouth open. You look like a goddess.

While Bucky's runs circles along your clit, he slowly inserts a finger into you. He pumps the digit in a slow rhythm which causes you to grind up into his face. You crave more and Bucky happily provides. He inserts another finger and you moan curses, paired with Bucky's name.

His fingers and tongue work in tandem together. You feel that pleasure building up inside you more and more.

You're crying out to Bucky, begging for more, desperate to cum for him.

"Shit! Bucky!" his name is the last thing on your lips as you gush around his fingers. He takes it all, happily so, as your legs shake around him.

When your body stills, he slowly lowers your legs onto his bed. And he stands, lapping up his fingers while taking in your spent figure.

"I was right," he says.

You look at him in a post-orgasmic haze, "About?"

"You taste just as sweet as you are."

You roll your eyes at him as he pulls off his shirt and pushes down his sweats. He crawls onto the bed, body hovering over yours, "You still want to do this? There's no going back after this."

"Please, Bucky. Fuck me."

He grins and pecks your lips, "Now how can I say no to you when you beg for me like that?"

He pulls away to rid himself of his boxers. He reaches into his bedside drawer and pulls out a condom. He quickly rips it open and rolls the rubber onto him.

He then goes to kneel in between your legs and you quickly wrap your legs around him, causing him to fall forward.

His arm catches himself before he can collapse onto you, "Eager, sugar?"

"You're taking too long, old man," you respond with sass.

Bucky's eyes darken. He grabs his length, and teases your entrance with it, "Tsk. Tsk. How can you be so sweet and so bratty as the same time?" He then sheaths himself inside you and you gasp.

He smirks at you and chuckles, "Nothin' to say, sugar?"

"Fuck me, Bucky," you mumble.

He promptly sits up and pulls you by the hips. His cock hits you deep and then he pulls back to only thrust back into you again. His movements are hard and fast to the point the bed rocks in the rhythm he sets.

"That's it, baby, so fucking pretty taking my dick." Bucky says as he watches your face scrunch up in pleasure. You're gripping onto his arms as he holds your hips while he fucks you.

"Does your dad know you're here, hm? Does he know how his little girl is getting fucked by his best friend?"

You shake your head, "No. Fuck, no."

"Of course he doesn't. Can't know that his little girl is my fucking naughty girl, hm? Fuck, you feel so fucking good, sugar."

He bends down, propping himself by his arms, his body hovering over you as he fucks you. You pull him into a heated kiss, moaning into his lips while he gives hard thrusts.

"Rub your pussy for me, baby. Wanna cum together and 'm close."

You nod, immediately bringing your hand down to your clit and rubbing fast circles around the nub. The added pleasure causes you to clench onto his cock.

"Fuck, that's it, baby. That's it. Fucking close. Shit."

His hips slam into yours, harder, faster, as he's so desperate to get that release.

You're close too as you moan his name, "Bucky! Oh fuck!"

He thrusts once...twice.. and thrice until his hips still. He lets out the sexiest moan you've ever heard as he cums in the condom.

"Goddamn," he groans as he slowly pulls out of you. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and runs a hand through his brown locks.

He gets a good look at you. Your body is covered in a thin sheet of sweat, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath.

"Fuck," he murmurs, "We really just did that."

He pulls off the condom, tying a knot in it, and tossing it into a nearby trash bin. He then climbs off the bed, pulling on his boxers.

"I'll be back." he heads to the bathroom where he grabs a hand towel. He dampens it with warm water and comes back to you. You keep your eyes on him while he wipes you down. You take in his furrowed brows and a pit of insecurity opens inside you.

"Do you regret it?"

He sighs, "We shouldn't have done that."

"Okay," you murmur. After he's done, you immediately get up and start to undress.

Bucky stands and makes you pause, "Hey."

You look at him, on the verge of tears and it breaks Bucky's heart. As a tear cascades down your cheek, he immediately wipes it away, "I don't regret it, but doing that just made things complicated."

"I know."

"Your dad obviously can't know about this."

"I know."

"You also just went through a breakup."

You let out an exasperated sigh, "Bucky, are you rejecting me or not?"

"Not really. Your emotions were high. You just found out your boyfriend was cheating on you. All I'm saying is give yourself some time to heal before.."

"Before?"

"Before we can see where this," he gestures between you and himself, "goes."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, "You want to explore this?"

He shrugs, "We clearly have some chemistry, but you're also young. You're still in your twenties and have a lot going on. If you don't want anything with me, that's fine. I'll live. I just don't wanna hold you back from exploring and enjoying your twenties and college life."

You can't help but scoff, "Bucky, I've been spending a majority of my twenties either at school or with you and my dad. I don't think you'd be holding me back at all."

He shrugs again, "Still. Just, take your time, alright, sugar? I'll be here when you need or want me."

"Okay," you reply softly.

You and Bucky both redress and he leads you to the kitchen where he makes you lunch. Afterwards, you give him a peck on the lips and leave.

On your way home, you think about what had just happened.

You thought you after getting Bucky out of your system, you'd be done. But nope, you're still drawn to his roaring flame. Are you bound to get burned? Probably. But that's what happens when you play with fire.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #marvel #marvel au #smut #dad's best friend au

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mrshowlettsgarden · 3 months ago

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Feelings and Peaceful Habits: Logan Howlett - the one when one small moment turned into a healthy habit

─➭ pairing: Logan Howlett x professor!fem!reader

─➭ prompt #5: Sitting close to each other, because it's become a habit.

─➭ content warning: fluff, friends with feelings

─➭ a/n: based off this anon request

●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘● ●∘◦❀◦∘●

There’s an unnoticed gravitational pull you and Logan have with each other since you became friends. It’s mostly Logan who holds this habit, but you do as well.

It started when Logan was going out for a walk in the yard. He noticed you sitting on a bench in front of the pond when he felt the need to join you. You looked so peaceful, and he wasn’t trying to ruin that, but he just simply wanted to join you and the peaceful moment. And you welcomed him with a cheeky smile as you moved over to make room for him with a soft greeting.

He’s been attracted to you since you two met and the pull you have on him makes him sit just close enough to not make you uncomfortable. The presence that Logan has made you feel safe and warm despite his rough exterior. You couldn’t find the will to move away because it felt right to be so close to him. And it felt natural to be so close to him. As if you two have always done it. From then on, sitting close to one another became a habit. A peaceful habit that Logan never wanted to let go.

You would see him sitting in the kitchen for a late-night rendezvous snack. You’d greet him as he pulls one of the stools out for you to sit right next to him. And if you try to playfully put space between you two, he’d roll his eyes before saying in a gentle tone, “Get back here.” He then would pull the stool closer to him as soft giggles slip from your pretty mouth.

Logan would occasionally find you in the library as you were finishing up your notes for your class and he wouldn’t hesitate to join you. Feeling his presence behind you, you’d turn around instantly with the same cheeky smile as he’d pull the chair out with a soft smile on his face. Your arms would brush against one another but never touch for too long. He craved to touch you but there were boundaries that he respected when it came to you. Sometimes he’d ask you if you need help with the notes and if you say you do, he would slightly lean just close enough for you to smell the cigar that he smoked earlier that day.

"You smell good," you murmured playfully one time.

Then your eyes would meet, and his strong gaze would make you shy away from the intensity and your confidence, but you look back at him before continuing to share your thoughts about your next lecture. Logan wouldn't stop looking at you even if he wanted too, but he pushes what he feels away and continue the task on hand.

Sometimes the adults of the mansion throw a movie night to help ease the stress from missions and all. And Logan always saves a spot for you on a conveniently two-person couch in one of the common rooms. You would walk in with a bowl of popcorn when he’d look up and greet you with an open arm that was draped over the top of the couch. You shyly smile as you walk over to the plush seat and sit next to him. His free hand would throw a blanket to cover both of your laps as you make yourself comfortable.

During these movie nights is when you feel yourself holding back from full on cuddling into him. And Logan? He's fighting for his life to not pull you onto his lap and bury his face into your hair.

Then one time, later into one of the movies Logan was about to take a swig of his beer when he felt your head drop onto his shoulder. He looks down to see you sound asleep and peaceful. He then puts the bottle down before wrapping his free arm around you and pulling you closer than you both have ever been before. A sigh slipped from his mouth as he rested his cheek on your head. The smell of your conditioner is bringing him at peace.

After all those moments sitting next to each other, this is the closest you've ever gotten to him. Both of you have been too scared to go beyond grazing touches, and now that he has you in his arms, he believes he will never be able to let you go. The habit of being so close to you has never made him feel so far away, even now that you are sleeping in his embrace.

"Logan," he hears you mumble half asleep his name as you nuzzle yourself into his neck.

"I'm here," he whispers back, "I'll always be."

#james logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #x men movies #logan x professor!reader #wolverine x female reader #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #protective!logan howlett #prompt list #fic prompt

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samkiszkasfacialhair · 7 months ago

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Move My Way

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader but every other member of GVF gets some kisses.

Summary: Take a shot… or strip.

Warnings: Alcohol, kissing, implications of sex, spicy Jake

Word Count: 3.5k

This was one of those times in movies where the main character narrates a scene and tells the audience “You may be wondering how I got here.”

You were on the floor of Josh’s apartment surrounded by three half naked Kiszka boys and Danny who was also in his boxers, reaching for a bottle of vodka on the floor.

Here’s how you got here- a thunderstorm, a citywide blackout, one of Jake’s teenage memories, and jealousy.

Speaking of teenage memories, you’d been friends with Josh since high school. You did theater with him and remained close as the years went on. Your friendship began including Jake over the years and stayed pretty strong despite the small crush on Jake you’d pushed aside year after year. Sam and Danny had always been around as well and you had a good bond with them too. Even as they became successful and began touring and eventually moving out of Michigan, you remained friends with all of them.

You planned a weekend trip to Nashville to see them and go out to some of their favorite spots now that they’d lived there and got acclimated for a few months now. However, when you originally planned your trip, you didn’t plan on a huge storm hitting while you were there, preventing you from going out bar hopping with the guys like you originally planned.

Instead, everyone was sprawled out over couches, chairs, and the floor of Josh’s living room watching movies and eating popcorn when his TV screen went black and every light in his apartment went out.

You all tried your phones, no wifi.

Any phone service you had was limited.

Jake stood up from the floor and used his phone flashlight to guide him to a window. He pulled back the living room curtains to be met with nothing but a sea of black with wind and rain whipping at the window.

“It’s a blackout!” he said excitedly, “The entire city is down, look!”

Danny and Sam eagerly got up and ran to the window to see like two little kids while Josh headed for his bedroom

You followed behind him, already knowing what he was headed for.

He dug around in the bottom drawer of his nightstand in the darkness for a second, before pulling out a bunch of candles and handing you some.

You headed back into the living room and placed the candles on his coffee table.

“Does anyone have a li-”

You didn’t even need to finish your sentence before Sam was tossing you a lighter.

“Thanks,” you said as you caught it and began lighting up the candles you had set on the table.

Josh joined you all in the living room with more candles, lighting the rest of them and giving his apartment a warm glow.

“So, now what do we do? Wait it out?” Sam asked.

“And do what, Sam? It could be like this for hours,” Jake replied.

Sam shrugged and looked at the floor.

Josh didn’t have much. He had only moved here a few months ago and with all the work they were doing, he didn’t spend a ton of time in the apartment. For entertainment, he had a TV, a few books, and a mostly empty bar cart.

“You got beer, Josh?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I think-” Josh answered as he got up to go to the kitchen when Danny stopped him.

“Don’t open the fridge if you don't have to. Keep the cool air in or else everything in there will go bad,” Danny advised.

He was right as always.

So for the better part of 30 minutes, you all sat around, trying to come up with ideas of things to do.

Eventually the conversation went onto discussing childhood and teenage memories.

It moved from reminiscing about toys you once had, to people you once knew, to people you’ve each kissed.

Josh made the executive decision that everyone must share their first kiss stories. And since you had nothing better to do…

Danny was fifteen. It was with a girl he went to camp with who he never saw again.

Josh’s was when he was fourteen. It was for a play. Romeo and Juliet. Enough said.

Sam was seventeen and it was with the girl he had just broken things off with last month after being together two years.

You were just about to share yours when Jake interrupted.

Jake wasn’t really a participant in the whole group conversation. Instead, he laid on an area rug and played around with a bottle of vodka, spinning it around on the hardwood floor close by.

“My first kiss was because of a bottle of Tito’s,” he said with his eyes fixated on the bottle, “Sixth grade. Kaylee Kowalski’s basement. Spin the bottle.”

Jake was in a daydream of teenage memories with a small smile on his face.

You stared at him with a hint of jealousy stinging in your chest. You were at that party. You watched him kiss Kaylee Kowalski in front of everyone, wishing it was you instead of her.

Back in middle school, everyone knew Jake and Kaylee liked each other. It was like that party in Kaylee’s basement was made for them to kiss. You watched all his friends cheer him on and watched all her friends giggle. You remember thinking to yourself how lucky she was. From across the room, you watched him talk to her the rest of the night while she twirled her hair stupidly.

You remembered becoming friends with Josh and seeing Jake around, hoping somehow, one day, you could be the one he wanted the same way he wanted Kaylee Kowalski.

And now, even though you were both adults, that was way in the past, and Kaylee’s family moved away a few years later, for some reason, those teenage feelings came back full force and made you bubble with anger and jealousy.

You woke him up from his day dream real quick when you gasped as an idea for redemption hit you.

“What?” he asked hesitantly, catching a sinister look in your eye.

“Spin the bottle,” you replied, practically jumping out of your chair.

“Spin the bottle?” he repeated. He was asking a question but at the same time, he wasn’t.

“Yes, spin the bottle! Besides, what else is there to do?”

“Not kiss my brothers?”

You rolled your eyes and took the bottle from his hands.

“You don’t have to kiss your brother’s look… If the bottle lands on yourself or someone who you don’t want to kiss, you have two options. Take a shot… or...” you paused, looking around the room for another option.

“Or strip,” Jake interrupted bluntly.

Immediately, Sam, Josh, and Danny started protesting but you tuned them out as you caught Jake’s eyes staring you down from across the circle.

All of it sounded like background noise as your eyes dropped from Jake’s eyes, to his lips, and finally to his bare chest peeking through his half buttoned shirt.

“M’kay,” you said, smirking and regaining eye contact with him once more.

“That’s not fair!” Sam shouted, bringing you back to reality. You looked at him in just a pair of shorts and a short sleeve button up shirt.

“What? Both alternatives are equally as humiliating as me having to kiss each of you in front of everyone here. BUT! The game will end when I have kissed each of you. Or until someone’s naked,” you explained.

After shutting Sam down, you looked around the circle of them, all shrugging their shoulders. They knew this game was the best alternative to doing absolutely nothing. Plus it was bound to give you all some silly entertainment, get the group tipsy, and give you what you’d wanted since you were thirteen.

“Well,” Jake began, “ladies first,” he said as he placed the bottle on the rug and sat back down across from you.

“No way, I’m outnumbered! You go first!” you shot back.

Being the gentleman he was, he smiled, reached forward, and gave the bottle his best. The five of you watched it in anticipation as it slowed down.

It came to a stop facing Danny.

You all broke out into fits of laughter and Danny puckered his lips out to Jake jokingly.

Without hesitation, Jake reached for the bottle and took a swig of it effortlessly.

Lame.

That was how the first couple rounds went. No one wanted to be the first one to kiss someone, understandably, so you all opted for the alternatives.

After a bit of time, you had each had a few shots and you all were getting hit with the effects of them. At that point, everyone except Josh stopped taking shots and started stripping.

Jake and Danny kept their jeans on but so far were shirtless. You were just as they were, but in your bra. Sam was in nothing but a pair of boxers. And Josh, being stubborn, was fully clothed but a lot drunker than anyone else.

Next up to spin the bottle was Josh. You knew he was ready to take a break from drinking but he was also stubborn enough to be the last one completely clothed just so he could say he won. After all, you knew the other three guys were a bit more interested in kissing a girl than he was. He spun the bottle and it came to a stop at Jake.

You all giggled, including Jake who figured Josh would give in and take off a piece of clothing. Josh however, was never afraid to shake things up and did the exact opposite of what Jake anticipated.

“Alright since none of you have any balls,” he said as he leaned forward on his knees, grabbed Jake’s face, and gave him a dramatic kiss on the lips, pulling back with a “MWAH” sound as Jake pushed him back off him, laughing.

Even if it was a joke, it was the first kiss of the night.

Jake wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand as all of you laughed hysterically at what had just happened. Jake was a good sport about it and it was all for fun.

After a few jokes directed to Jake, everyone's laughter faded and it was your turn again.

You spun the bottle and waited for it to finish spinning.

Josh kissing Jake as a joke pushed the game into a new direction- you knew whoever it landed on, you’d have to kiss.

And who did it land on? Josh.

The look of shock on his face sent you all into another fit of laughter.

“Come on, Josh, kissing a girl won't kill you,” you teased as you turned to him and sat up on your knees.

Josh rolled his eyes playfully and lifted his chin up just a bit, waiting for you.

But you weren’t going for just a peck or a joke. It was game time. You wanted Jake to see this. You wanted Jake to be able to see himself in Josh, kissing you.

The same nose, brushing against yours.

The same lips, wrapping around yours.

The same tongue, teasing yours.

You sat on your knees in front of him and cupped his jaw as he fought back a smile.

You inched your face closer to his and the second your mouth hit his, both of you broke into laughter that blew out of your puckered lips, practically spitting on eachother.

You couldn’t help it. Kissing Josh felt incredibly weird.

But you weren’t worried. You had all night, clothes to lose, and two more unkissed boys in the circle.

Next up to spin the bottle was Sam.

He reached for the bottle. You all knew what Sam was thinking. He was hoping for himself so he wouldn’t have to kiss anyone or for Danny so he could make a joke out of it like Josh did.

He got the exact opposite.

He got you.

There was no way he could say no to you without his brothers teasing him for the rest of his life, especially now that the game had taken on a new tone.

Even in the candlelight, you watched his face turn a shade of pink.

Sam was nineteen and still didn’t have much experience with girls- that much you all knew. He had one girlfriend his entire life so far. You knew he wasn’t a saint, but you knew he’d only ever been with one person.

To have to kiss a girl in front of his older, more experienced brothers was a living nightmare for him. Plus, out of everyone, he had the least amount of clothes on, which added to his embarrassment.

But at that moment, you figured you could help Sam out. You were about to give him the kiss of his life. This had the potential to end Jake and Josh’s teasing forever. And it could in turn help you out too.

You watched Jake clench his jaw when the bottle landed on you. You could see daggers in his eyes as he looked at Sam. He was jealous.

Good.

On your hands and knees, you crawled over to Sam slowly and met him across the circle where he sat criss-crossed and trying incredibly hard not to look at your chest.

He was breathing through parted lips and once you got close enough to him, he tilted his face up to meet yours.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered right before your mouth connected to his.

You went for it with Sam.

You kissed him hard and he kissed back. One of his hands naturally grabbed your ass and the other grabbed the back of your head and pushed you further into his mouth, deepening the kiss both figuratively and literally.

Sam had nice lips and even though he was a little inexperienced and therefore a little sharp with his movements, you had to admit, the kiss was decent.

You lapped your tongue at him just enough and Sam involuntarily hummed into your kiss, seemingly forgetting where he was. You pulled back and broke the kiss, watching a look of shock appear on Sam’s face as he opened his eyes.

He shook his head like a wet dog and swallowed hard before running his hands through his hair and looking around the circle.

“You okay, Sammy Boy?” Jake asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

His tone was condescending. You took notice of what he called Sam.

Sammy Boy.

He did that on purpose. He wanted Sam to feel young and small, like a little kid.

“Yes,” Sam stated matter of factly, “I’ve never been better, actually!”

Danny, Josh, and you all laughed with Sam.

Sam’s sweetness overshadowed Jake’s harshness and completely backfired on him, making him look like an asshole to the rest of the people in the room.

Perfect.

You waited it out with Jake. You spun the bottle and it landed on him. But you rolled your eyes and took your pants off, leaving you in just your bra and underwear (which thankfully matched and was a cute set).

Eventually he caught on. He spun the bottle when it was his turn and of course, it landed on you. So what did he do? He took his pants off.

The air was filled with tension. Josh, Sam, and Danny stared at each other awkwardly, knowing exactly what was going on at that point.

The game continued on for a bit. Jake took shots so he wouldn’t have to kiss his brothers or Danny in his underwear. Besides, he was waiting it out for you.

You, on the other hand, kissed his brothers and Danny in your underwear just to make him madder.

The boys took shots and stripped sock by sock while you went for the kisses. You gave Danny and Sam gentle kisses but you did make sure you gave Sam just a tiny bit more feeling. You and Josh gave each other pecks that ended in laughter because you couldn’t take each other seriously.

Then, it was your turn again. However this time, all you had left on was your bra and underwear. Taking anything else off would be too much. And you couldn’t handle another shot of vodka burning it’s way down your throat and feeling it swish around in your stomach.

You leaned forward to spin the bottle and you could feel Jake’s eyes practically burning into you.

For what felt like an eternity, the bottle spun. Finally slowing itself down after passing Sam, Danny, and Josh. It came to a halt, pointed in between Jake and Sam, but was tilted just a bit more in Jake’s favor.

Finally.

You and Jake locked eyes from across the circle and it was game time.

“C’mere,” he said as jutted up his chin and sat back on his hands, opening up his lap for you.

Sure your kisses with Danny were sweet and your kisses with Sam were hot but they meant nothing. This one was about to be real and it had been building up not only for the past hour, but for the past 10 years.

You crawled around Josh and over to Jake. You could tell every single eye in the room was on the two of you and you didn’t care. In fact, you liked it.

While keeping eye contact, you straddled his lap.

The hair on his legs brushed against your skin and the only thing between the two of you were a couple thin layers of cotton. You could literally feel his dick on your thigh through his underwear.

His eyes were dark and tired as he looked up at you.

He reached one hand up, now only supporting his body weight with the hand still resting on the floor behind his back, and gently gripped it around the back of your neck, rubbing his thumb along your jawline.

“I bet Kaylee Kowalski wishes she was you right now,” he whispered.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you replied, also in a whisper, closing the gap between the two of you.

The second your lips hit his, you found yourself in heaven. This had been what you’d been wanting since you were thirteen. Only now, Jake wasn’t cute with his Beiber cut and braces. Now he was a man and he was sexy.

Jake started slow. His pillow soft lips fit perfectly on yours and made you want more with each kiss.

His mouth tasted like vodka combined with the flavor of cherry lime vape juice, and just the sweet flavor of that alone had you humming into his mouth.

You sucked his bottom lip in and pulled at it just a bit with your teeth before he broke the kiss and sat up to pull you closer to him.

As he went deeper, his tongue teased at your lip and you did the same to him, letting them slide against each other as your lips continued moving.

Jake was taking you to a completely different world. You were completely lost in him and his kisses and you had to thank God you were adults now and not teenagers in a basement party so you could really do what you wanted to do to him.

Unfortunately, the sound of Josh, Danny, and Sam letting out celebratory cheers brought you out of your Jake induced daydream and back to reality.

You broke away from Jake with a smack of your lips and looked around Josh’s apartment to see every light on.

“Alright games over, get a room!” Josh, who was still fully clothed, yelled dramatically as he picked up the bottle of vodka and headed to his bedroom for the night.

Sam and Danny laughed everything off as they threw their shirts back on and threw themselves onto Josh’s couches for the night with the TV now on as background noise for them to fall asleep to.

Now able to fully see and after a taste of each other that you’d both been wanting for 10 years, you and Jake looked at each other and laughed.

“I like this game,” he said. His voice was soft but gravely at the same time.

Even though the power was back, it was late and the night was over for the entire city; except you and Jake.

Thankful for Josh’s two bedroom apartment, you whispered, “You wanna keep playing?”

Without saying a word, he started to get up, urging you to get off him first. The two of you got off the floor and headed for Josh’s guest room, leaving your clothes behind on his living room carpet.

Upon entering, Jake closed the door, locked it, and turned off the light, leaving you two in darkness once again.

He pulled you in close to him and kissed you gently before speaking just above a whisper.

“You said the game was over when you kissed everyone right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “that or once someone is completely naked.”

Jake smirked as he walked you backwards towards the bed. The back of your knees hit it and you fell back with Jake on top of you. You could see nothing but his teeth and the whites of his eyes in the dark room when he whispered,

“Game over.”

Author's Note: This one has been in the drafts for a while. Don't come for me about incest because this is far from it. It's all silly. They kiss each other on stage anyway.

#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet imagine #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka fan fiction #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka smut #jake gvf fanfic #jake kiszka fan fic #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet spicy #jake kiskza spicy

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musickool · 1 year ago

Text

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ₁

𝑣𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

ted logan —

type of guy:

sweet lovey-dovey dork, this himbo will be all over the place

as soon as bill mentions valentines day, all the hairs on his body just stand

the thought of him being so lovey cringes him out but he's just can't remove the obsession with you.

he's so tooth-rottenly cute, when you're around him, he just don't know what to do with himself. you approaching him is like him seeing an alien. either runs away or just freezes and breaks a sweat when you talk to him.

you’re his brainrot and ted's just sadistically a victim to it, completely wrapped around your fingers

musters up the courage and makes it his objective to make the most excellent v-day ever

creating planning boards in his room, preparation talks with Bill, lowkey stalking you at school

saves up every penny in his piggy bank, not wasting a single dollar

reads up on things on what girls would like

love language is quality time and words of affirmation

valentines plans:

excellent adventure ted— you first spend the day on an afternoon at an arcade; you and ted wearing casual formal outfits (ted in his tuxedo and converses, you in a dress and sneakers), playing on all of the arcade machines, giggling, screaming and laughing and goofing around.

he then takes you to his favourite spot by the Circle K, chilling down on the pavement. playing some UNO/tells you his wild adventure stories/jamming out to punk & pop rock on his speaker, sitting and eating slushies and a hot dog

after the arcade, he takes you to a diner, ordering a classic American meal (two burgers, fries, onion rings, two milkshakes with the extra cream & a cherry-on-top)

finishes the date with a trip back to Bill's, awaiting a heartwarming surprise (aka the anticipated secret)

he cutely takes your hand and sits you down on a chair, closing your eyes whilst you wait. 5 minutes later, you take them off at his command, waterworks immediately start to run as you look at the sight infront of you.

ted, with his guitar, announces his special song for you.

hands begin to strum on the guitar, puppy loving eyes gazing into yours, heartfully. ted serenades you with a sweet melody, accompanied by his surprisingly sweet voice

in the garage that's decorated in cutesy heart decor; red and pink balloons and banners all over the place, you feel as if you're in a safe haven, enchanted away here by your adorable, innocent boyfriend

mid performance, ted brings you up to the stage, twirling you around and then dancing with you. his big BFG self towers over you, slowly rocks your body and embraces you tight with his bulky arms. leaning in his head, ted finally caresses your face and kisses you— signing off the most excellent Valentines day ever. . .

bogus journey ted— either takes you to the movies or rents a movie at the local blockbuster, so he can watch with you in his apartment

for the outing, he takes you to the movies to watch a cheap chick flick he thinks you'd like; popcorn, nachos and a big shake

at home, he puts on a sci-fi movie, both stuffing down on a large pepperoni pizza, watching contently

afterwards, you kick back and relax for a long smoke sesh, getting high on some good weed whilst he puts an arm around you, nestling and cuddling with you close

he'll definitely brings out a guitar and sing to you, smoking a spliff that still rests between his lips (typical lightskin moment)

one way or another in ol' netflix and chill fashion, the night ends with ted loving on your body— giving you the most ultimate rocker boy finale his bodacious girl needs . . .

face the music ted— buys two VIP tickets, for the both of you, to a summer rock festival across state; booking an all-inclusive hotel nearby so you and him can rest in with convenience (away from the kids)

packs all the necessities— snacks, water, a pack of beer, foldable chairs, portable fans, sunscreen, a pair of sunglasses, and a charging bank

you both get to the airport, getting on a plane and travelling off into the concert place

arriving at the hotel; you unlock and enter your room— spacious king-sized double bed, tv, automated bathroom and a great view outside the window. the hotel has an all-you-can-buffet that you never forget to not miss

following the next day, you dress up for the concert; you wear a house of sunny 'lemons on a plate' dress with yellow sandals, and ted wears a white t shirt and cargo shorts, styling up with sandals and a hat

for the whole three days, you and ted rock out to live iconic rock music. screaming, jumping, and partying; dancing like you never you could

golden retriever ted watches out for you; handing you snacks, cleaning after you, supplying water, emergency hugs, cheering you up

breaks into a chuckle and laughs when he catches your boomer self taking videos and pictures, uploading them onto facebook and instagram ('me and hubby @/tedtheologan rocking out at the _____ festival! party on, dudes ! 😎🤩😀😍😆❤️👩‍❤️‍👨💍⚡️🤘🤙🎫🏴‍☠️🎸❤ #____festival #summer #sunny #fun #mostexcellent #smiley #happy #happyvalentinesday #rockfestival #yolo #youngforever #foreveryoung #tb #throwback #80s #1988 #2024 #thenvsnow #wyldstallyns #mosttriumphant #rockmusic #date #valentines #couple #airguitar #happy36thyearanniversary')

last night of the festival ends with a colourful night show, fireworks lighting up and crackling the night sky. under the bright lights, ted takes your hand and holds them. warm, tall body pressed against yours, he gazes down on you with such love. gently caresses your face, hazel orbs boring into yours, rubbing the small of your back soothingly. he closes in and kisses you on the lips, passionately making out with you

the fireworks continuously keep lighting up in the background, looking like a happy ending straight out of a movie.

type of gifts:

handmade stuff: arts and craft/DIY cards with cute stickers, colourful glitter, ribbons and drawings (imagine him getting glue all over his fingers and hands, big 6'1 self hunched over his little creations uwu)— gifts you a teddy bear and says something along the lines of: "babe, i got you this teddy bear, even though i'm, like, totally your teddy bear... and my name is Ted!", some candies, 'girly stuff' like makeup, "..because you're a babe and all..", a handwritten song personally made for you (with the help of wingman Bill), tulips and roses he got from his England expedition, an antique necklace he got from his Greece expedition, heart-shaped chocolates, some tapes and vinyls of your favourite music

john constantine —

type of guy:

typically indifferent

depressingly and callously cynical

not the one to be celebrating stuff like that, but he'll do what it takes to make you happy

he knows it's still worth it, just as long as it's with you

love language is gift giving and physical touch

valentines plans:

literally remembers ON the day, springing up from bed and bolting outside. goes to like 30 different stores, searching for the best presents he can find

runs back home with last minute stuff before the sunset. doorbell suddenly rings and john opens up, smiling as he sees the love of his life, you all prettied up in a cherry red dress, heels and matte makeup (something is bulging...)

you and john get in the car and he drives you out to a late night dinner, only to be met with disappointment when the restaurant he spoke to earlier informs him that the reservations are all booked up

sighing in devastation, john bows his head and shakes disapprovingly. he looks up to give you a weak smile and rubs your back reassuringly, gesturing you to head back inside the car. the both of you drive back to his, decidedly opting for some Chinese

you both head back to his, decidedly opting on some Chinese

john resumes back to finishing the set up of the living room; red candles and roses on the coffee table

impromptu date begins: candle lit dinner in front of the tv, you both drink some wine and eat some takeout, watching a random movie

finishing up, you doze off asleep, snoring on his lap

john still watches the tv, glancing down on you every 5 minutes. he wraps a warm cloth around you, resting a hand on your back. the urge of him to kiss you is burning him alive but he remains neutral.

he's upset that the day has been ruined, the one thing that he could've gotten right all slipped and fell out of his fingers. his callous self for once actually cares about something, something he originally thought was 'insignificant', something he wished it could've gone more better

even though the day didn't go out as planned, you've insisted that it's not too bad—grateful for the date overall. it's small and disorganised, but as least it's something, , as least it all ended with him

types of gifts:

silver antique jewellery, a card, giant teddy bear, a box of chocolates, and roses

john wick —

type of guy:

DILF, DILF, DILF

valentines day with baba yaga?!

already got the whole day planned and sketched out, back-to-back

john's fat wallet's will treat you well

always 'knows a guy', so you know your ass is about to be showered to filth

the wholesome family man side of him will be coming out, abandoning the stoic, brutally cold assassin behind

no more john wick— now it is jardani jovonovich

love language is gift giving, acts of service and physical touch

valentines plans:

he would start the morning with cooking you a nice sunny side up and toast, a side of maple pancakes and coffee. whilst you eat, he calls up a spa centre and gets you booked in at a lavish clinic, ordering some men to take you there privately. he asks you to call up your friends, inviting them to the spa day as well. gives you his card and some change just in case. once you leave, he cleans up your plate and cleans up the house, decorating and preparing whilst you're gone.

a full day later with hanging out with your girls, you return back home, deeply relaxed from the tantalising spa treatment. opening up, the house is completely dark and quiet, only seeing rose petals leading off to somewhere. walking along the rose covered path, you follow it and halt at the dining room. right there at the table, sits your husband of 5 years, warm smile on his face; white polo shirt and jeans. he gets up to greet you, kissing you on the lips and forehead

john's whipped up a classic candle lit dinner, steak and baked potatoes with a glass of wine. after a nice hearty meal, he takes you upstairs via the rose-petal lane, leading you to the bathroom. you're welcomed to a bubbling hot bathtub; two glasses of champagne, face masks, scented candles, and a charcuterie board sitting on the bath rack. you two hop in and relax in the tub, slippery naked bodies against each other. you watch a drama series on his laptop, silently staring at the screen

one blink later and you're in bed with john. big hands clasping on your small waist, bearded kisses and pecks littering on your stomach, muscular strong body dominating over yours, stocky fingers slipping to unholy places; john ends the day with pleasuring you for the night, showing you what no other man but him can give.

types of gifts:

surprise trips, full package spa treatments, his card for shopping trips, makeup, perfume, high end clothes, expensive wine, a bouquet of flowers, chocolate, a small teddy bear, menstruation stuff (pads, tampons, pills, hot water bottle pouch, snacks, his masseuse expertise, baby— this man loves you), anything you want, name a price, john will be your man

thomas anderson (neo) —

type of guy:

similar to constantine but more open-minded in his indifference

either forgot or is pretty clueless on what to do

casually flips through calender and scares himself shocked as he realise the date is tomorrow

goes on a forum to ask for help: "@/cyberspacecatontheweb: any suggestions for valentines day ?? I (37M) and a girlfriend (34F) are going out on a date and I don't know what to do. sm1 help a guy out thx"

goes on the internet and researches on ideas

eventually gives up and just scraps the ideas, goes with the flow

love language is quality time and physical touch

valentines plans:

thomas wakes up early and gets changed; black shirt and suit on. you arriving to the 101 apartment, he takes you out to a Chinese restaurant downtown. orders quite a lot of food— dumplings, stir fry, sweet and sour chicken, rice, hot pot, and bbq ribs. he pays the bill and you two leave, walking out to window shop.

later in the evening, thomas takes you up to a rooftop, sitting down and watching the city below. he hesitates, but then opts to spontaneously show you 'something cool'. gets out a tech device and presses a button, opening up a cybernetic portal. jumps inside and pulls you with him. you both teleport to a white void, confused and scared as fuck. thomas reassures you and shows you some of his latest tricks like emerging buildings and cities out of nowhere, binary codes that pop up and creates a giant ass dog that almost eats you, floating and flying through a cyberspace wormhole. for the last bit, he gently grabs your hand and shows you the last thing he promised: binary codes formulate and change, syncing up together and creating a love heart. thomas presses another button and the heart opens up, revealing a cybernetically generated portrait of you and him, written underneath 'happy valentines day xoxo'. his hands move to your waist and he slowly kisses you, simultaneously taking you back to the real world.

types of gifts:

digitally-made things: flowers, teddy bear, heart, a picture of you. makes a hologram gadget that does origami, a scented candle he remembers you like, cool tech glasses, paired with some gloves, that's installed with a program that allows you to do things- holographic games and worlds all built into these spectacles (norman jayden from heavy rain reference)

jonathan harker —

type of guy:

mr darcy-coded

valentines day with him would be a fairytale, straight out of a book

sensitive, kind, chivalrous, charming, courteous, and hardworking, your princelike husband who will always know how to woo you to your knees

planned everything in his sanctuary, ready to show you how he can treat you well

love language is gift giving, acts of service and quality time

valentines plans:

you wake up to a traditional english breakfast-in-bed; hot tea, coffee, porridge, bread, and eggs, served by maids. then you're being dressed up for the day, maids helping you out into your modest and elegant attire, fixing your hair, doing your makeup, and dusting you down. jonathan escorts you onto to the carriage, heading off first to a picnic at an expansive, spacious garden. The place is embroidered with pretty plants and flowers, fresh fragrance of pollen filling your nose. you and jonathan settle on the grass, laying a blanket. you enjoy some tea, crumpets, scones, and sandwiches, admiring the floral nature. jonathan dotes you inbetween small talk, complimenting your look frequently. for some short time, you both get up and walk around, appreciating the afternoon. after the picnic, he hires a photographer to have your picture taken. you sit on a chair as jonathan stands behind you, posing for the camera.

shortly comes the evening and it's time for the special occasion. you both get onto the carriage again, heading off to a restaurant. the restaurant is filled to the brim of posh people alike, halls decked with chandeliers and embellished with statues and paintings. the pair of you enjoy the night, relishing and dinning happily. jonathan brings you back home, taking you to the bedroom to surprise you with a bundle of flowers and a toy bear. he kisses you softly and gracefully on the head, reminding you of his love. you both tuck into bed and lay down for the night, sleeping peacefully into each other's arms.

type of gifts:

a basket full of roses, lilies, orchids and carnations. handwritten poem, a card enveloped and stamped with a red heart wax seal, chocolates from romania, dainty jewellery, toy bear, fragrance, a trip to paris, tickets to see an opera and a theatre performance, small trinkets, fruits, and a pocketwatch locket.

kevin lomax —

type of guy:

sugar daddy kevinnnnn

toxic but fine husband

will absolutely spoil you rotten, pampering you like a princess

love language is gift giving, physical touch, and acts of service

valentines plans:

first thing in the morning, breakfast's being sent to you at the penthouse. kevin leaves a note on the nightstand: "hey sweetheart, it's me. how was breakfast? it was good, right? i've called in your boss to let him that you're sick, so no need to go to the office. your whole day will be booked: spa treatment, nails, hair, and a private boutique booked so you can try on some new outfits that you'll be choosing for the evening. make sure you wear that lingerie i got you and don't miss any of those appointments. daddy's gonna have fun with you tonight.

love kevin xoxo"

you do as exactly he says, rushing up & down, excitedly getting changed. a black limo takes you to and back of all destinations, attending all your scheduled appointments. at the boutique, a blonde clerk waits for you, standing by a row of clothing racks with designer clothes hanged and heels below to select from. after carefully selecting, you choose a snug black dress and heels, fully dolled up for the occasion. a makeup artist quickly does your makeup, just in the nick of time kevin arrives, black waist coat and suit & tie. you exit the building to find him standing by the car. his eyes wonder around and check you out, hypnotised by your beauty. linking arm to arm, you two are driven to the wall street restaurant. the place is luxurious; interior design opulent and rich. kevin grabs a seat at the vip section, inviting some of his fellow law firm coworkers along. you cheers to a good night and dig in to the fine dining, enjoying the night. almost midnight, you and kevin return back home, immediately jumping into the jacuzzi.

you strip out of your clothes and wear the cute swim piece that kevin's bought for you— a black skimpy bikini that hugs all of your curves and cleavage. you sit back and relax with your man, peacefully sipping some champagne and enjoying each other's company. many drinks and pillowtalks later, the night ends with what you exactly expects: sounds of skin slapping and bed shaking; your moans echo throughout the bedroom. kevin's tall body thrusts repeatedly into you, grunting and groaning as he fucks you. lasting with the real pillow princess treatment, kevin worships your body and makes love to you, showing you who you really belong to. . .

types of gifts:

expensive makeup, luxury trips abroad, designer outfits, exclusive spa treatments, sexy lingerie, his black card for those shopping trips, perfume, deluxe jewellery and accessories, a bouquet of roses tied in a bow, heart-box of chocolates, expensive wine and champagne, adult toys (wink wink), a white teddy bear, polaroid photos of you and him

#𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑑𝑒.#ted logan #ted logan x reader #john constantine #constantine 2005 #john constantine x reader #john wick #john wick x reader #neo the matrix #neo x reader #jonathan harker #jonathan harker x reader #kevin lomax #kevin lomax x reader #keanu reeves #valentines day #headcanon #𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑆𝐷𝑂𝑁𝑇𝐵𝐸𝑆𝐴𝐷𝐸.

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overstuffd · 6 months ago

Text

Taking you out to a - unbeknownst to you - feeder cinema.

'It's amazing!' I tell you. 'They have waiter service right to the seats - and I got us a great deal. We're going to watch a marathon of classic stoner movies and we get dinner and unlimited snacks. Doesn't that sound perfect?'

Without thinking your hand goes to your growing pot belly. You kept saying you need to take it easy on indulging your appetite for greasy food - but your gut rumbles in response.

After a moment's hesitation, you agree that it sounds like fun. I smile, hungrily.

They're stoner comedies, so of course I get you stoned beforehand. Plenty of bong hits before we head out, encouraging you to hit my vape on the -thankfully- short walk to the movie theatre.

When we get there, the staff are so delighted to see you. They explain that you'll be served one course of dinner between each of the four movies and there'll be a midnight feast at the end. In the meantime, help yourself to the snack table.

Snack table hardly does it justice - there's a huge buffet set up with every kind of appetiser you can think of. I encourage you to go through to the theatre and get comfy in your seat while I fix you a plate.

The seats are really two person couches, with soft looking pillows to prop ourselves up on. They're pretty well sized, but with your thicker thighs you realise we'll be pressed close together.

You get settled, and I show up with your pre-dinner snack. If you weren't so stoned you'd say it seemed like a lot. Your plate is stacked with mozzarella sticks, garlic bread and mac and cheese, all of them geneorusly portioned out for you by me.

As it is though your munchies are kicking in hard, so you accept the plate and start eating. Before the film starts one of the attendents comes by and smiles as they place a bucket sized soda cup and extra large popcorn next to our seat, on your side naturally. I already let them know your favourite candies, and they're mixed through the popcorn, the chocolate gently melting in the still warm kernels.

The film starts, and soon you're snorting with laughter like a dumbass at the cheesy jokes and slap stick. Your mouth is dry from the smoking and all the salty food, so you end up chugging your soda hard, but whenever it starts running low one of the attentive staff is there with a replacement.

The same happens with your popcorn, you're only halfway through before your carton is replaced with a fresh batch. It makes it hard to keep track of what you're eating, but between the snack plate and the endlessly refilling bag you're pretty sure you've already had what most people would consider a meal.

It's hard to concentrate on that though, because the first movie is over and it's time for appetisers to be served. You almost don't believe me when I say you haven't even had the first course yet.

Before you put up too much of a fuss though I hand you my vape - no, the staff won't mind I promise - and you relax again, especially when I offer you a pair of gummy edibles to kick in during the movie.

I took the liberty of ordering for you, and you're already faded by the time your heaping pile of nachos arrive, loaded with cheese, guacamole, sour cream, hot salsa, jalapenos and brisket. The spiciness hits your sensitised pallet hard, but there's always more soda to soothe it.

The second movie has started now, and as it plays you polish off your nachos, and most of my order of onion rings once I pass it over.

At some point, your soda cup is replaced with an extra-large cold beer, but you chug that down just as happily, your mind getting floatier with every gulp.

At the end of the second movie the main courses arrive, and you try and tap out. The greasy, double-patty burger is huge, even ignoring the massive side of fries and slaw. The attendents have bought you mug sized tubs of spicy mayo, creamy burger sauce and barbecue to help everything slip down easily, but even so.

You turn to me, your eyes big as the third film starts to roll. I pretend to be sympathetic, but my words are the last thing you want to hear. 'Oh, poor thing! Are you too out of it to eat your dinner even though you're so hungry?'

You try to put together a protest but forming a whole sentence is beyond you at this point, so you flop backwards and let me slowly feed you the burger and sides, holding the dripping handfuls to your mouth until you take a bite and then pushing salty fries in afterwards. When you slow too much I push my vape into your mouth again and the new rush of haziness gives you another burst of energy.

You don't remember anything that happens in the third film, just the growing heat between your legs as your waistband presses harder and harder into your stomach.

The final break - dessert. I get up from our seat, and even if you'd been able to speak you didn't think to ask where I was going, your mind completely preoccupied with the pressure in your belly.

When I come back though, you've realised there's a sundae bar in the lobby that I've visited on your behalf. A huge bowl of softserve, another bucket really, smothered in caramel and chocolate sauce, peanuts, cookie crumb and whipped cream.

Your stoamch audibly groans when you see it, but you're so docile you let me push more than a few spoonfuls between your lips before you start turning your face away, struggling even to move that much.

You're expecting me to grow more forecful, but instead I set the icecream aside and pay attention to your straining gut, undoing your pants (you sigh in relief, they were moments away from bursting) and rubbing slow circles on your belly. My hand dips lower as I make lazy circles and you moan appreciatively, way too far gone to care about embarassing yourself in public.

The film is drawing to a close, the lovable losers have completed their stoner quest, and you're getting close to finishing too. Once you're frantically grinding against my fingers, though, I pull away, and suddenly the icecream bucket is back at your lips.

No spoon now, the softserve has melted into a thick and creamy shake mined with sweetness. I part your lips and tilt the bucket so it pours into your mouth. Youf flabby mind can think of only one defence against choking on it so you swallow, slowly, painfully, your overstretched stomach straining at the additional pressure.

The credits of the movie are rolling and you're almost finished with your shake - and my hand is back between your legs, rougher than before.

I've been training you to come when your stomach is straining, so I up the speed as you take your last mouthful and you finish over my fingers.

I ruffle your hair and wipe a little icecream off your cheek as I coo at what a good job you did for me.

The staff are in no rush for us to leave, which is good because you can't stand right now.

Instead they leave the lights low as I gently rub your eager belly, enjoying the deep rumbles as you start digesting your enormous meal.

When you've recovered a little I'll walk you to the car - and maybe if you're good we can get drive through on the way home.

#feeder kink #weight gain kink #wg text #feedee encouragement #getting fatter #fat encouragement #fat admirer #getting bigger #stuffd posts #intox kink #intox #wg fiction #wg story #getting fatter on purpose #gaining weight on purpose #secret feeder #public stuffing #stuffing

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chaossturns · 8 months ago

Note

Hii!! can you do chris x f!reader where she posts on tiktok to the audio that goes “give bitch sum head or sum” and chris sees it and takes her up on it?? tag me if u do it pls!!

𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐒𝐔𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐌 | 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

⋆⑅˚₊ — synopsis: you filmed a tiktok to the sound “give a bitch sum head or sum” while Chris is filming but he sees it while he’s out, so what will happen when he comes home?

⋆⑅˚₊ — pairing: chris sturniolo x poc!reader

⋆⑅˚₊ — warnings: oral (fem!receiving) , use of pet names , swearing , face riding , slight fluff & aftercare , established relationship , and overstimulation

a/n: i loved writing this request so much, also thank you for 100 followers ! 👅

a/n 2: join the taglist , ts looking empty 🫡

⋆⑅˚₊ — word count: 1.5k

not proofread

You were sitting at Chris’s desk, Tiktok sounds filling the emptiness of his room as you scrolled. Chris was currently out with his brothers filming a video, leaving you to be bored and alone.

While scrolling you stop on a video, the sound intriguing you. It was the beginning of the song “Slob on My Ckat” , the lyrics being “Give a bitch sum head or sum.”

You get up from Chris’s desk, walking into his bathroom and looking into the mirror. You place your phone on the counter, putting all your focus on your hair, fluffing it out a bit. You then pick up your phone, getting a good angle through the mirror.

As you film, you save some as drafts, and have different options to choose from. You finish up, heading to Chris’s bed, sitting up by the headboard.

While sitting there you start to go through the multiple takes, figuring out which one is posting worthy. You find the best video out of the bunch, captioning it, then posting it.

The fans knew you and Chris were together, so you got a lot of recognition on your Tiktok account. Some fans were not really fond of yours and Chris’s relationship, but it didn’t really bother you.

You get up from the bed and go upstairs, wanting a snack and a drink. Upon opening the fridge, your eyes wander throughout the various drink options. Lyrical lemonade decorating the shelves, along with pepsi, root beer, and water.

You grab a watermelon lyrical lemonade, going to the cabinets to get a bag of popcorn, and venture your way back down to Chris’s room.

Before sitting down on his bed, you grab his tv remote off his dresser, thinking about what to watch. You pick out the movie “Get Out” by Jordan Peele. The movie proceeds, but your phone is blowing up with notifications from Tiktok

Opening the app, your notification box is filled with likes and comments. You go and view your Tiktok, reading some of the comments as well.

likes: 106.4k Comments: 10.1k Shares: 120

comments:

@ christophersturniolo

- 👀

@ lucy50

- omg you’re so pretty 😍

@ sturniolofan111

- AHHH CHRIS COMMENTED

@ spam.jess

- lord chris is lucky 😩

You took notice of Chris’s like and comment, not thinking much of it since it was normal for him to do so. Getting more comfortable under his covers, you put your phone down and regain your focus on the movie.

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Me, Matt, and Nick were out filming a video. Nick’s timer had gone off, meaning we had to reset the camera. While doing so, I opened Tiktok, browsing through my following.

I came across my girlfriends video, listening to the audio, and smirking to myself. I liked and commented as usual, looking at how good she looked. An idea came to my head, now wanting to hurry up and get home.

Matt bangs on the window, telling me to look up from my phone and face the camera.

“Chris and Nick look towards me!” Matt yells, his voice slightly muffled since he’s outside. Me and Nick just look at each other, wondering where such anger came from.

Matt then walks to the driver side, getting into the car, and fixing his hair while doing so.

“So where were we?” Nick asks, wanting to get back on track with the video. I left him unanswered, impatiently wanting to go home.

We talked for about 10 more minutes before putting the camera up and making our way towards our apartment. I texted my girlfriend that we were on the way home, placing my phone in my lap, and glancing out the car window.

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐕

You get a notification on your phone, causing you to jump as you were absorbed into the movie. The text was from Chris saying he was on his way home. You grab the remote and pause the movie, getting up and using the bathroom.

Coming out of the bathroom, you collect your trash, and throw it away in the trash can in Chris’s room. You lay back down in the bed, grabbing your phone and scrolling through instagram.

A couple of minutes later you hear the garage door open and close, signifying the triplets were back home. You continue to be on your phone, waiting for Chris to come into his room.

You hear his bedroom door open and shut, footsteps coming closer to the bed. You look up from your phone and smile at Chris, getting out of bed, and giving him a hug.

“I’ve missed you too baby.” Chris says, gripping that back of your thighs, and hoisting them around his waist. You press a kiss to his lips, Chris using his free hand to grasp around your neck.

You pull away, smiling as you climb out of his arms. Turning away from Chris, you plop back onto the bed. But Chris doesn’t come and lay down he just stares at you, his blue eyes becoming intoxicating.

“Chris, why are you looking at me like that?” You question him, he just smirks and comes closer to the bed.

“Y’know I saw your video right?” He asks, you slowly nod, trying to understand the connection between this. He grabs onto your ankles, pulling you even closer to him.

“Chris what are you doing?” you ask, becoming flustered from all of this.

“Hmm, how did the audio go?” he taps his index finger against chin, making it seem like he’s deeply pondering about something. “Give a bitch sum head or sum?” He asks again, causing you to finally understand what’s going on.

Chris is now on his knees at the foot of the bed, stripping you of your jean shorts, leaving you in your pink laced underwear. He opens your thighs, peppering kisses to the left and right, slowly moving closer to the clothed cunt.

You sigh out, enjoying the feeling of his lips dancing across your thighs. You begin squirming as his lips get closer to your core, making Chris grip onto your hips to prevent you from doing so.

Chris plants a hot, wet kiss upon your covered clit. You whimper out, just wanting Chris’s lips on your leaking core.

“Please Chris.” you whine out, looking down at him between your thighs.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks, now sucking on the inside of your thighs, creating hickeys.

“I need your mouth against me please.” you say, sifting your fingers through his brunette locks. Chris then proceeds to peel your underwear off of you, stuffing them into his pocket.

His lips finally attach to you core, you dragging out a loud moan from your throat. Chris’s tongue leaves long licks to your slit, slipping it into your soaked hole from time to time.

“Oh, shit Chris.” you yank his hair that’s tangled in between your fingers , resulting in him groaning out into your pussy. Chris then begins to suck on your clit, the knot in your stomach becoming more apparent.

You rock your hips into Chris’s face, his nose hitting your sensitive bud every time you do so.

“Mmm, Chris i’m close.” you sigh out, Chris now increasing the speed of his tongue.

“Cmon, give it to me mama.” Chris mumbles into you, making a rush of pleasure cascade over your body as you cum.

Chris doesn’t give you time to rest, he gets up from his kneeling position, lays his head by the head board, and pulls you over his mouth.

You feel his mouth enclose around your dripping cunt, your hand automatically gripping the headboard due the vast amount of pleasure. Chris moves his hands around your hips, tightly holding onto them as he moves them against his face.

“Fuck Chris!” you say, a moan flowing from your mouth. You throw your head back, leaving your mouth agape, overwhelmed by all of this.

“Is it too much baby?” he asks, you whine out in response. The sound of Chris slurping up your juices filled your ears, driving you completely overboard.

“C-c-can’t take it anymore Chris.” you say, slightly lifting your hips away from Chris’ lips. He then goes to wrap his arms around your thighs, keeping you trapped above his mouth.

“You taste so fucking good, just give me one more please?” he asks, continuing his torturous assault on your pussy. You collect his hair back into your hand, moans and whimpers leaving your lips as your second orgasm begins to take over.

Your breathing becomes heavy, now releasing your cum all over Chris’ face. He cleans you up, not leaving any left over cum.

You fall to the side of Chris, looking into his face and giving him a lazy smile as you see your juices glistening off him in the light. He gets up, grabs a warm towel, and cleans off your thighs.

He then grabs another pair of your underwear and one of his hoodies, and puts them on you. You slide underneath the covers, your body sore. Chris then comes next to you, wrapping your legs around his waist as you snuggle into his neck.

for - @ellaynaa 🔥

tags: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @rileysturniolo @itsnotmariahh @summerssover @l0ver-i @thenickgirl

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolos #chaossturns #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #fanfiction #kennsreqs #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut

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letorip · 5 months ago

Text

casual [iii]

"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

===+++===

pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader

summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that

warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)

word count: 7.2k

A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE

===+++===

"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.

"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.

Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.

At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.

There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.

After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”

“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”

She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”

“Oh… then yes.”

You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.

When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.

Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.

"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.

"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.

"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."

Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"

"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.

You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."

"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.

"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."

"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."

You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."

"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."

You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.

She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."

"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.

"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.

"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."

"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"

"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.

"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."

"...No, I'm not in love with her."

"You absolutely are."

"I'm done with this!"

"You keep saying that."

"'Cause I am."

"Okay."

"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.

"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”

It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.

Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.

This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.

"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.

Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."

"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.

"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."

You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."

"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."

"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."

"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"

But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.

"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.

Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.

Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.

"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"

Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.

"I don't know..."

"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"

"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.

"What?"

"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.

"No the hell I didn't."

"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"

"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"

"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."

Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."

"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"

"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"

She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."

You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."

"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"

"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."

"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."

"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.

"Great."

"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.

Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.

I'm in love with Nat.

It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.

"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”

"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."

"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.

The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.

"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"I...I think I'm in love with her."

===+++===

Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.

In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.

It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?

The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.

It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.

That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.

Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.

Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.

You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.

The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"

"Hello, mother."

(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"

"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."

"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."

"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"

Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"

You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."

"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.

From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.

===+++===

The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.

And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.

"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.

"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.

Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.

"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."

"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"

"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.

You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.

"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.

"Wha—"

Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.

"Right..."

You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.

It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.

"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.

"What do you mean?"

"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."

She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"

"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."

Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.

She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.

If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.

===+++===

You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.

After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.

You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"

"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"

You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"

"So it's true?! You're dating?"

You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."

"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."

"Well, she's saying you're going steady."

"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."

"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."

"Probably..."

"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"

"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."

"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"

You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."

"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"

You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."

"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"

"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."

"She will soon, though. Monday."

"Yeah...I guess she will soon."

===+++===

Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.

You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.

There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.

You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.

It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.

It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.

Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.

You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.

===+++===

"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.

"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.

"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.

"No she doesn't," you shook your head.

"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."

The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.

"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."

Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.

"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"

"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.

"Oh, and (Y/n)?"

"What."

"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"

It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.

Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.

Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.

"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.

You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.

You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.

It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"

"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.

"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."

"Real genius, aren't you."

"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.

"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.

"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.

"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."

She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.

"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"

Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."

You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."

"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."

You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."

"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.

"I'm sorry, Nat."

She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"

You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.

Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.

"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."

You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.

Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.

"We were just talking, Allie needed help."

"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.

"What are you talking about?"

Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."

It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."

"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.

"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"

"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"

"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.

"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.

===+++===

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.

Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.

When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.

"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."

She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.

"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.

"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.

"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."

"With Julie?"

Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"

"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.

"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"

"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.

You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.

"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."

She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.

It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.

After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.

You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."

She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."

===+++===

AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy

#nat scatorccio x you #nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x y/n #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #yellowjackets

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leiswxrld · 1 year ago

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𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬

pairings: russian!abby anderson x fem!reader

synopsis: your russian girlfriend abby complains about her boss everyday to you after work but today she wants to take her stress out on someone and who not better than her own girlfriend.

warnings: smut, praises (sweetheart, my love, angel), strap on usage (r receiving), abby fucking the shit out of you.

a/n: I am not Russian so if they translations are wrong I do apologise tried not to use google translate but some websites like quora or Reddit for accurate translations, also this was recommended by someone idk if this is what they meant but I hope you enjoy ❥.

this isn’t proofread so please ignore errors.

@alicespurplesquid thanks for helping me on the cyrillic letters ❥

credits: @cafekitsune @hitobaby for line dividers ❥.

You're sat in the living room watching the Netflix series 'You', feet up on the couch, snuggled up in the new blanket abby brought you with a can of dr pepper, gummy worms and popcorn.

The noise of the front door opening catches your attention but your eyes remain on the screen, hearing the keys being thrown on the kitchen counter and heavy footsteps approach behind you.

"I missed you, принцесса" your instantly engulfed in her embrace, smelling her musky cologne oozing from her as you smile taking a second to take a look at her.

"How was work" you ask, abby opening her mouth to receive the gummy worm in your hand as you slip it into her mouth causing her to lick the excess sugar off your finger and you jokingly smack her hand at her silliness.

"Stressful my boss was up my ass about getting the new building ready for next week" abby was a construction worker and often complained to you on how much of a twat her boss was in her words, 'a fucking cunt"

"Baby I told you to complain to hr about it maybe they'd do something" you reply and she scoffs going to remove her jacket throwing it onto the other sofa before making her way to the fridge and grabbing a cold beer.

"and what so that my boss can fucking make my life even harder no thanks" she removes the bottle cap with her teeth going to plop her self next to you. "you smell good" she blurts out, pushing her head into the crack of your neck smelling the sweet birthday cake scent.

"thank you it's a new perfume I got" you reply, continuing to watch the show as abby began to assault you with kisses, "abs I can't concentrate if you keep kissing me like that"

"you just smell so fucking good, дорогая" she groans, shuddering as she continues. "I think I know where to take my stress out on" she says, pulling away from your neck as your eyes widen.

"Abby no can't it wait" you whine, you were turned on but you wanted to finish this episode before you'd do anything remotely sexual with her.

"Baby, пожалуйста" you couldn't say no especially when she begged in russian to you. "Fuck-fine abs you have 10 minutes"

She grins at you, getting ready to pick you up before you give her the hand...making her pause for a sec confused as you grab the remote and pause the show before you tell her to continue.

You yelp as she picks you up straddling you on her lap, she immediately pulls you into a heated kiss, feeling her frustration as her hands roamed your back, sides and ass as you moan. tongues entangled and your arms around her neck, she grinds into you feeling her hard bulge prod against your joggers

Abbys pick you up, walking you towards the bedroom door lips still attached to you as she kicks open the door and throws you onto the bed. "strip for me"

You take no time in removing your clothes, slipping off your joggers and top leaving you in your bra and underwear. "so fucking pretty for me" she hungrily eyes you, lust prominent in her eyes as they move up and down your body, making you feel small under her gaze.

She keeps eye contact with you removing her work trousers and the yellow luminous vest, eyes leaving hers to her black boxers that tucked away her strap. "Lay down for me, Крошка"

You lay down as abby crawls on top of you removing your underwear as she curses under her breath, "fuck" your wet, pussy glistening under the light peaking through the closed blinds.

"Do you want my strap baby" you desperately nod, watching as she pulls down her black boxers revealing her strap which hits you against the fat of your thigh, you whine gripping onto her sports bra pulling her towards you as you plead in her ear to fuck you.

she smirks, hooking her arm under your thigh pushing it till it was against your ear. "yeah tell me how badly you want it"

"fuck-please abs just fuck me" her tongue rolls across her mouth in satisfaction, tapping her strap against your wet clit before slipping into you.

You gasp, hands wrapping around Abbys neck as she puts her face into the crook of your neck. she begins to rock her hips into you, every thrust harder than the last knocking the last bit of air out of your windpipe. she grunts, bitting onto your ear and pushing the cups to your bra down fondling with your exposed tits, twisting your hardened buds making you whimper.

Your mixed moans filled the bedroom, gasps and grunts getting louder as she pounds into you. "I can feel you clenching around my strap, зайка" she groans into you ear, taking a second to look at your flustered face, rambling curses and pretty moans.

"Are you gonna cum that fast for me, малыш" she breathlessly asks, hitting your pussy at an angle whilst holding your leg up. "n-no" you squeak, gripping onto the white sheets below you.

"better fucking not you'll cum when I tell you to" she grunts, taking her time to watch how your eyes roll back unable to respond. she chuckles, pushing the falling hair outta your face to truly see how fucking beautiful you were, legs wrapped around her back as your nails dug into her back.

your hand goes to cover your face as abby slaps it, pinning your arms to your sides, "don't hide your face angel I wanna see how pretty you are when you cum for me" her words make you pulse around her, signalling you were going to cum at the speed she was fucking into you.

"a-abs please I'm going to cum" you warn, her hand reaches up to your face slapping it, "hmmm, you going to cum for me milaya, you can beg me better than that" she coos.

"Пожалуйста" you beg, tears in your eyes which pushes abby over the edge, pounding into you harder before you cum all over her strap, your juices seeping onto the white sheets below before she slows down, coming to a halt.

"fuck I think that was the best sex we've ever had" abby mutters, kissing you on the cheek before pulling out. she leaves you laying on the bed, taking her strap off seeing the visible wet spot on her black boxers as she makes her way into the bathroom.

She brings back a wet cloth, cleaning you up and whispering praises into you ear as you steady your breathing. she throws the wet cloth back into the bathroom before jumping onto the bed beside you.

"Do you want to order takeout don't think you'll be in any state to move and cook now" she offers, a smirk on her face as you finally catch onto what she meant.

You slap her on her arm, sending her a dirty look causing her to laugh, "Fuck off abby, you can order takeout but only because I'm in no mood to cook right now"

she laughs again before cuddling you, "yeah sure let me order something from your favourite food place and then after I can fuck you till you fall asleep....how does that sound, принцесса"

you roll your eyes playfully kissing her once again, "sounds fucking perfect abby"

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby the last of us #lesbian smut #lesbian #abby x reader #abby tlou2 #black reader #tlou2 #smut #leiswxrld #leiscoven

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fuctacles · 17 days ago

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thank you guys for pitching in for my bday goal on ko-fi, it means a lot to me <3

<< eleven | 😺 | thirteen >>

Eddie walks up the stairs faster than he should, and has to even out his breathing just like the first time. He barely knocks on the door before it opens, but he did say he'll be up shortly.

"Come in." Steph moves to the side to let him inside. Her hair is down now, and she's changed her jeans to a pair of sweatpants, looking soft and domestic. Having no idea what it does to Eddie's heart.

He rolls on the balls of his feet awkwardly, and spots Dart, blinking at him from his perch on the back of the couch. Steph picks up a small white bottle from the coffee table, and he focuses attention back on her.

"This is a leave-in, so after washing your hair and drying it with a towel, you rub a bit in your palms," she explains. "And like, rub it into your hair?" She frowns, nose scrunching adorably. "Like this." Steph hands him the bottle before showing the motion on her own hair. "And focus on the ends, maybe up to here." Gently pulling on a strand of Eddie's hair, she points to about half of its length. "Then you can let it air dry. It should help with the dry ends," she finishes off, absentmindedly running her hand through his curls.

He hopes it's a him thing, and not just a hair thing.

"Questions?" she asks, her eyebrows raising. Unfortunately, she seems to register her movements too, and drops her hand to curl it around her waist. Fortunately, it accentuates her breasts.

Eddie shakes his head.

"But, Wayne ordered me to keep you company before you go mad from talking to cats." He raises his hands when her eyes squint. "His words, not mine. I think he's just tired of me and wants me to bother someone else for a change. Which," oh no, he's rambling, but it's too late to stop it. "I'm not imposing myself on you, I can go grab some cigarettes from the convenience store. You had a long day at work, you must be tired. Of me, too."

His hand squeezes tighter around the bottle of conditioner. Steph's eyebrows are arched and unimpressed.

"Which one of those was a question?"

Right. Eddie licks his lips, and her eyes follow.

"May I keep you company on this fine evening?" he asks.

"You may," she accepts with a courteous nod and a small smile. Unfolding her arms, she turns to the kitchen, the last bits of tension seeping out. "Beer? Tea?"

"In your presence, milady, simple rain water will suffice." He presses his lips together. It's either rambling or nerdiness, when he's nervous. Usually both.

Steph only shrugs, one hand on the fridge handle as she looks at him expectantly.

"I just ran out, you have to pick something else."

"Beer, please." He smiles, relieved she's playing along.

She uncaps two beers for them and takes a look through her cupboards.

"I'd offer you a snack, but... all I have is popcorn. Do you want popcorn?" She looks over her shoulder at him.

"Salt or butter?"

"I have both."

"Salt, then. Don't like my hands greasy."

He doesn't like his hands greasy in the presence of a fine lady, that is.

While they watch the bag spin in the microwave, Eddie lets his mouth spit out what's been on his mind for the past couple of hours.

"Wayne's cast is going off this Thursday."

"It's been long enough," she nods thoughtfully. "Will he be able to walk?"

"With a crutch, yeah, but he won't be needing me anymore." He picks at the label on his beer. "So I'll be going back to Indy next week. Or this weekend."

"Ah, that's a pity. We just met." She pouts.

The microwave dings, Steph pops it open and the smell of popcorn fills the kitchen. Eddie isn't sure if her words were genuine or just a pleasantry, but she doesn't seem like pleasantries kind of person.

They move to the living room, at least one pair of cat eyes watching them curiously. Dart is still in his spot on the couch and doesn't move a muscle when they sit down.

"When are you visiting next?" she asks, popping a kernel into her mouth. "Thanksgiving?"

"Probably," he says, even though it wasn't his plan. He was going to wait Thanksgiving out and stay a day or two longer for the Christmas break. But if Steph was in any way interested in him, it would be worth the gas money and time spent behind the wheel. "Do you have any plans?"

Steph tucks her legs up on the couch, gets comfortable. The bowl of popcorn rests between them and Eddie can't wait for it to be gone.

"I'd usually go with Robin to see her parents, but I'm trying to wrap up on the salon thing. I want to tell Joyce before the year ends, maybe look at places in Indiana starting in January."

Eddie raises his eyebrows.

"I thought it was a more distant thing."

"Me too," she sighs. "But I'm probably just scared of change, and making it sound like more work than it is."

"Uh, I think opening a salon in a new city is a lot of work," Eddie points out, leaning forward to face her better. "And moving? It's a lot. But hey," he adds quickly, noticing that she has shrunk on herself. "I'll help however I can. Give you a couch to sleep on while you're looking for the perfect place."

She snorts.

"Thanks, I might take you up on that."

It would be weird, having Steph in his small bachelor apartment that he shares with a friend. But the idea sounds too alluring not to let it run his imagination for a second. Maybe she won't have anything to sleep in and Eddie would have to lend her a t-shirt. Something unmistakably Eddie-ish, like a brand telling everyone else to back off.

"I could show you around, too. I know the best pizza and Chinese places and which cafe's to avoid," he offers.

She cocks her head, watching him with a smile, the small but visible lines in the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"Planning a date already?"

Eddie's eyes widen. He kind of was.

But Steph doesn't seem repulsed, she's smiling at him with amusement, completely relaxed on her couch, beer in hand. So he shoots his shot.

"I hope I'll get a few before then," he admits, looking her in the eyes, straight into her soul.

She hums, the smile still present but somehow turning sour.

"When? You're leaving in a few days."

"That's a few days worth of dates," he counters.

"You're gonna sweep me off my feet and leave? That's not nice," she points out.

"I—" Eddie frowns. "Yeah, I know," he deflates. Steph's right, he already feels insane and it would get only worse if he got a proper taste.

She twists in her seat, feet landing on the carpet. He turns with a sigh, ready to be kicked out. He can always try next time, right?

tags: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94

@tartarusknight @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman

@madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson

@hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets

@bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore @icecat

#steddie #crazy cat lady stevie #transfem steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #mine #stevie harrington #steddie fanfiction #cw: age gap #fuctacles #steddie fic

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xoxoavenger · 2 months ago

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What Is This Feeling?

pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N and Dean are certainly feeling something for each other, they just can't exactly put their finger on it. In the meantime, they'll rip each others throats out and annoy Castiel and Sam.

word count: 3003

warnings: a small mention of alcoholism, intense enemies to lovers, based on 'What Is This Feeling' from Wicked, you may think this is isn't Christmas themed but there is a grinch reference thrown around a couple times (I couldn't help myself)

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

Dean had never felt this way about anyone before.

It was surprising, because he had been in a lot of relationships with a lot of women. But something about this woman made his head reel in a dangerous way. He wasn't quite sure what it meant, at least not until he talked to Sam.

"I swear, ever since the moment I saw her I've felt this way." He tells Sam as they drink beer in the library.

"Hm," Sam says, still looking at his book. He clearly is not too interested in what Dean has to say, which causes him to be a little upset.

"I'm being serious! I don't understand it." He knows he's whining, but he wishes there was a way for him to know what this feeling was. It's been driving him crazy for months on end.

"Are you sure it's not love?" Sam asks as he looks over, and Dean makes a face.

"Definitely not love. More like," It's on the tip of his tongue, and his mouth turns down as he figures out what makes him dizzy about her.

Y/N and Castiel are having the same conversation in her room, just down the hall, at the same time.

"He makes my heart race. I've never felt anything like it. I can literally feel the blood leaving my face just talking about this." She tells him, swirling her wine in her glass. Cas frowns.

"It sounds like you're in love." He says in that stupid low voice, and she wants to hit him at just the word.

"Absolutely not. It feels more intense. Like," She narrows her eyes, because she knows exactly what the feeling is.

"Loathing."

After the two of them figure it out, their relationship somehow gets worse. Sam and Castiel can only sit on the couch of the hotel room, each holding a beer. The only thing that would make it picture perfect is if they were eating popcorn. Sam would get up and pop it if he didn't know that Dean would deck him for even thinking about standing and interrupting their argument.

"How could you let it go?" Y/N yells from her side of the room. Sam and Cas swing their eyes over to Dean as if this were a baseball game.

"Let it go?" Dean repeats, barely able to stop himself from sputtering. "What, did you want it to kill you? Or maybe I should have shot you and hoped the bullet went all the way through?" He yells, because the stupid werewolf had been able to run after they'd been track it the past couple days. Everyone knew the likelihood of them being able to find and track it again, especially so soon.

"I'm sorry, is your aim that bad that you couldn't shot it without shooting me?" She knows, deep down, that the werewolf was wrapped around her, that it would have been hard to get a clean shot with then way he was holding her like a shield. Cas had been able to swing and slice a chunk of the werewolf's arm with his angel blade, and the werewolf had made it's escape while Y/N fell to the ground and Dean had gone to her side instead of shooting at it, like Sam had been.

"Seriously? You know that thing was wrapped around you like a freaking slinky. Do you have a death wish?" He shoots, and she turns, putting her fingers to her forehead in annoyance. "Why are you turned around now?" He asks, and she explodes.

"Your face is annoying me!" She says it far too loud, and Sam and Cas exchange a look of surprise before looking to Dean. This has officially gone from arguing about the hunt to personal attacks.

"Ugh!" Dean groans, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. "I need alcohol just to deal with your voice." He says, and she turns back around, steam practically coming out of her ears.

"Are you angry because they didn't have a new jacket at army surplus? Too bad the old one has a knife shaped whole in it. Although, that probably made it look better." She's going after whatever she can think of, and she knows this isn't going to stop any time soon.

"Alright," Sam stand, putting his hands up. It's gone on a little too long, and he's sure any minute now they're going to get a call from the front desk because neighbors started complaining about the noise. "Let's just say you two hate each other and call it a day, yeah?" He suggests, and Y/N shakes her head.

"It's so much more than hate." She's staring daggers at Dean, who is chugging his beer.

"Finally something we can agree upon." He says as he pulls the bottle away and wipes his mouth, and she just rolls her eyes.

"He makes my skin fucking crawl, Sam. I can't stand him." She says, as if Dean isn't in the room at all.

"What about him makes you so angry?" Sam asks, and she doesn't even need to look at him to answer.

"Everything. All of it." She says, and Sam takes a deep breath.

"Okay," Sam is trying to keep his cool, but he kind of wants to laugh. This entire situation is childish, and he can't believe the two haven't figured their shit out yet. "Y/N and Cas, you share a room tonight."

"I couldn't handle her being in here anyway." Dean says, finishing the beer and throwing it in the trash before immediately grabbing a new one.

"Is it wrong to call him an alcoholic?" Y/N asks as Cas grabs her arm and starts to walk her to the door. "Because personally, I think it's just saying the truth, but I know some people,"

"Please stop," Cas begs quietly, opening the door. Dean has fire in his eyes, and she's lucky her back is turned when Dean starts to stalk toward her. Sam has to grab him and pull him back as Cas pulls her out the door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Dean?" Sam asks finally as the door shuts and he lets go of his brother.

"Me?" Dean asks incredulously. "She's the one who started it!" He argues, and Sam just shakes his head.

"Y/N is a nice person. She gets along great with everyone else, and she always makes friends with people on cases. She even somehow has demons that like her more than you do. So yes, I think you're the problem." Sam tells his brother, and Dean just gets even angrier.

"She hates me too! There's not much I can do here, anyway." He argues, grabbing his stuff and walking to the bathroom.

"Maybe she wouldn't hate you if you weren't such a dick to her." Sam says, because he knows his brother can be a little rough around the edges, but Dean usually isn't this rude or upset with someone. There has to be a reason why they loathe each other, and Sam doesn't think it has anything to do with loathing.

"So, why do you hate him?" Cas asks Y/N as they pack up the next morning. The angel had let her off the hook the night before, but he needed answers now.

"Well, ever since the beginning, there's just been something about him. And I usually get along with everyone. But he doesn't make it easy, exactly." She says. She doesn't like talking about it, because she doesn't have a good reason for the feelings that bubble up every time she sees Dean.

"It sounds like you don't hate him." Cas tells her simply, and she just blinks.

"You're right, Cas. I loathe him. Entirely." She frowns, zipping up her bag. Cas doesn't know what to do about this. He just wants Y/N and Dean to get along, because he's getting so tired of them fighting so much. It's every time they see each other, every time they're together. It doesn't even matter if they're on a case, or who's watching.

A point proven when a couple hours later, on the way back to the bunker, they stop at a diner and a fight ensues.

"Just because you're the one who lost the werewolf doesn't mean you have to take it out on us by making us stop at the shitiest place." She tells him after they'd ordered. True, this diner didn't exactly live up to any standards, but she was overreacting slightly because of her feelings.

"I'm sorry you're just so entitled that you have to have a five star meal, but we don't exactly have the funds for that. Maybe, if you put in a bit more of your own work, rather than just joining all of our hunts, we'd have more money for better food." Dean goes off, voice raising. Instead of sending him a glare to quiet the argument like she normally does in public spaces, she doubles down.

"We have plenty of money, you asshat! You just need the greasiest burger you can get your hands on, because it reminds you of life on the road with your dad." She shoots back, and some people near them have started to stare. She doesn't have it in her to care anymore, and can only barely stop herself from telling Dean that their cards are fake and so is their money.

"Seriously? You think you can read me? Well, you're not a closed book!" Dean yells, far too loud for the small diner. "You're only with us because you're lonely and terrifies you. You've lost everyone you've ever cared about, which keeps you from caring too much now even when you're nice to everyone. And if it were up to me, you wouldn't even be here." The words are barely out of his mouth before Y/N launches across the table, legs underneath her on the chair and arms out to choke him. One hand grabs his head and she's able to push it to the table once, hard, before Dean gets his bearings and puts his hands on her wrists.

"You think you're so smart, Winchester? You're a boy who grew up too fast and never had a childhood. Your whole adulthood has been you acting childish, because around your dad you were never allowed to. I get you had a bad life, but you think you're the only fucking one?" She grumbles into his face, fingers still twisted in his hair. He scowls, because she hit the nail on the head.

"I don't give a shit about what you think happened. I know a lot of people who were dealt a shittier hand than me. But at least I'm trying to make the world a better place. You act like you owe everyone you meet something, as if you're the reason their life ended up the way it did. News flash, the world doesn't revolve around you!" He yells in her face. She moves to get up onto the table to get better grip and maybe even choke him with her thighs.

"Okay!" Castiel grabs her leg as she tries to move, pulling her back. She's still got a grip on Dean's hair, so she pulls him too.

"Ow!" He yells as she grabs her fingers and unwinds them from his head. Y/N ends up on her back in the booth, Castiel holding her legs.

"It's time." Cas says as he looks at Sam.

"Time for what?" Y/N asks, getting up on her elbows and trying to kick her legs out of Cas' grip. He just holds on tighter, then nods at Sam before sliding out of the booth, his hands still gripping her ankles.

"Let go of me!" Dean yells, definitely causing a scene. And then, Cas gets up and pulls Y/N's legs with him, holding them over his head so she doesn't hit anything. Curse his stupid fucking angel strength.

"Cas!" She shrieks, grabbing her shirt to keep it from falling and revealing her stomach and bra to the entire diner, all of which were watching now.

"Which way to your bathrooms?" Cas asks calmly, as if he's not carrying a full grown woman upside down. The server points to the side, and Cas and Sam drag Y/N and Dean into the bathroom. Y/N's laid down on her back, confused out of her mind, and Dean is yelling at Sam as the younger Winchester pushes him into the small one-hole bathroom.

"What the hell?" Dean yells. Y/N turns on her stomach, and Dean turns toward the door just in time to see it slam closed.

"Fuck," She mutters, getting up and moving to the door. She tries to open it, but the handle won't even budge. "They're holding the door closed." She tells Dean, who instantly moves to where she had been to try and open it.

"Let us out!" Dean screams when it becomes clear that he won't be able to open it either.

"Nope!" Sam yells out, sounding far too excited. It makes Y/N even more mad than she is right now.

"You two need to work it out. And until you do, you aren't leaving that bathroom." Cas says through the door. Y/N wants to pull her hair out.

"Ugh!" Y/N screams, taking in the bathroom. It's old and a little dirty, and she hates the smell.

"You have no room to complain. If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be here." He tells her, leaning against the wall as he crosses his arms.

"Me?" She asks incredulously. She cannot believe the gall of this man. "You've got to be kidding."

"You started the whole fight!" He throws his arms out, and she thinks her eyes may pop out of her head. She takes a deep breath, because she wants to get out of this bathroom before she's forced to pee in front of Dean.

"Why did you let the werewolf get away?" She asks quietly. It's the softest tone she's ever used with him. He sighs, unable to look at her.

"How many times do we have to go over this? I didn't let it get away. Sorry your hunting standards are so high, but it's not like you were helping either." The way he says it, the tone so crisp and the words practiced, she knows he's lying.

"I'm not trying to make fun of you." She tells him, grabbing some paper towels and wiping off the water on the counter. "I just know you're lying, and I want to know why." She tells him, throwing the towels away before sitting on the counter.

"How would you know if I'm lying?" He asks defensively, and she rolls her eyes as she tries to tamp down her own snarky response.

"Dean," She groans, taking a deep breath. "I know that we aren't exactly close. But we aren't going to get out of this bathroom until we tell the truth, and I'm actually kinda hungry." She says, and she sees his exterior crack a little bit. He breathes out a long sigh, then looks from the ground to the wall.

"I did let the werewolf get away. You were right. I could have helped Sam go after it. I probably would have been able to shoot it." He admits, and it honestly surprises her. She didn't think he would tell her, at least not until they had been in there for an hour. She was about to push when he starts talking again. "I just saw you fall to the ground, and your eyes rolled back into your head, and I thought that you were more hurt somehow. I just needed to make sure that you were alright, and finding the werewolf was the furthest thing from my mind." It's silent in the bathroom, and Y/N is sure that Cas and Sam are listening. Dean looks at her, and they lock eyes for a few long moments.

"Why would you care?" She asks quietly, but it still echoes in the tiled room. Dean clenches his fists, rolling his eyes and walking towards her.

"I don't actually hate you." He says, standing far too close to her.

"Loathe entirely?" She asks with a small smile, heart racing. She's not sure why, exactly, but she can feel her face heating as well.

"No," He chuckles, shaking his head. "But I think it may start with an L." He walks even closer, his hands going to each side of her hips. She can smell his body spray, the smell of him that hangs around the bunker and usually infuriates her.

She realizes that maybe now she isn't infuriated with him. She's infatuated.

"I think I feel it too." She tells him, voice low as her gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

"I'm sure you do." He says with a smirk.

"Alright." She chuckles, throwing her head back in fake annoyance. He grabs the back of her head however, and pulls her into a searing kiss. All their emotions, all the heart racing and dizziness and blushing has all lead up to this kiss, where their lips move in tandem and their teeth clack as they both open their mouths. Y/N's pushed against the mirror by Dean, one of his hands slamming against it. She moans as her body arches into his, and her groans into her mouth as he puts one hand behind her back, pushing her impossibly closer.

"Do you think they're physically fighting?" Cas asks from outside the door. Both him and Sam have their ears pressed the door, however Sam is slowly starting to lean back.

"They're physically doing something." He replies, frowning. Cas jerks back, letting go of the door handle as he realizes what Sam is insinuating.

"I'm not sure if this is going to be better than them fighting." The angel says, and the two go back to their table, where food is waiting for them.

"Worse." Sam says, trying not to imagine all of the shit that's about to go down in the bunker. "Definitely worse."

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @king-of-milf-lovers @lyarr24

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