#but yeah I’m looking to finishing this one soon

[plainclothesdisaster]

“Heya.” Danny says as Batman stalks into the kitchen and looms directly over his table. He crunches smugly on a baby carrot. “What’s up?”

Captain Marvel shrinks in his seat next to Danny. Even though Batman’s glare is not pointed at him directly, the radiation alone is enough to make him cringe. He always feels more like Billy Batson around Batman more than any of the other Justice League members, like a kid out of his depth. Everyone except for Danny, who makes him feel like Billy in a different way, like he’s another kid who’s constantly earning his seat at the table even though he’s more than proved he deserves it.

On Danny’s left, Green Lantern takes a generous sip of his smoothie, looking back and forth between the two of them in anticipation.

“A word, please.” Batman peers down his nose at the mixed company. “In private.”

Danny smiles with all his teeth. “There’s nothing to discuss that can’t be said right here in front of your trusted colleagues.”

Batman’s jaw feathers. “It’s a personal matter.”

“You know me. I’m an open book.”

“Please, just come to the meeting room-“

“No can do, Bats. I’m on break. So spit it out or let me finish my snack in peace, hm?”

Activity in the kitchen has noticeably quieted as other staff try very pointedly to appear like they aren’t eavesdropping. Billy wishes he could melt into his chair.

Batman sighs, audibly. “What are your intentions with my son?”

Green Lantern chokes on his smoothie. Danny’s eyes practically sparkle with mischief.

“Oh, he broke the news did he?”

It’s hard to hear over Green Lantern’s continued coughing, but then GL pulls himself together enough to sputter, “You’re dating Batman’s son?”

“We haven’t really put a label on it yet,” Danny shrugs. “But yeah.”

Batman continues to glare in silence.

“Except,” Danny continues, “there’s no way he’d tell you. So, you’ve been doing your usual bat-involuntary-surveillance slash borderline stalking of us, huh?”

Batman doesn’t reply, to which Green Lantern says, “Ohhhh shit.” He turns to Danny, practically bouncing in his seat. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“None of your business, ring boy.” Snickers echo between the definitely-not-listening staff around them. Danny smiles sweetly before he turns back to Batman.

“If this is some kind of shovel talk, let me just stop you now. First things first, I think you lost the right to make threats on his behalf before he turned fifteen-“

Batman actually stiffens straight, which is more of a reaction than Billy’s ever seen. Not that he knows what the heck Danny is even referencing.

“-and second of all-“

Billy could swear the room gets ten degrees colder in an instant.

“He’s under my protection now. So really this talk should be directed the other way, don’t you think?”

They lock eyes in a silent battle. Finally Batman relents.

“Understood.”

Danny leans back and it’s like the pressure in the room lifts. The microwave dings, and the staff around them resumes milling about the kitchen as normal.

Batman, always tactful, changes the subject. “The gravity stabilizers on the lower levels have been acting up. Will you look into it?”

“You know I will.”

With that, Batman leaves.

As soon as his cape disappears through the doorway, Green Lantern whistles. “You’ve got some major cajones Danny. That or a death wish.”

“Batman’s the one who introduced us, in a manner of speaking, so he really can’t get mad at me for taking advantage.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea though?” Billy chimes in.

“All my ideas are good ideas.”

He’s joking, Billy knows, but he envies his confidence anyway.

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[secretlysamcro]

Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, violence, explicit language & possible spoilers. If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: “The reader loses her job and needs money to pay her mothers medical bills, she goes to see Lyla who is her friend at diosa, Lyla feels awful about the situation speaks to Opie about offering you a job at diosa to pay for the bills and he speaks to the sons about it, They let her work there and Lyla shows her the ropes of the place, after a week the sons come for a for a visit after a long day to relax and let’s just say that the reader catches jaxs eye and requests to spend the night with her. (he and Tara aren’t together)”

Backstory: Desperate to cover your mother’s medical bills, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make ends meet. Even if that means stepping into the world of escorting. Resulting in one of the Sons, taking a particular liking to you.

“Shit” you curse as you notice another letter has been slipped through the mail slot, your mother not bothering to pick it up, which can only mean one thing. More medical bills. It’s been over two weeks since you lost your job, and no matter how hard you’ve been trying, nowhere is hiring and it’s starting to feel impossible. Soon enough you’ll be unable to help cover your mother’s bills, and when that happens…everything falls apart.

Adding the letter to the growing stack of unopened envelopes, you make your way up to your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto the bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling as your mind races, scrambling for your next move having no idea what to apply for or where to even start. That’s when your friend Lyla pops into your head.

Y:N: Hey Lyla is it ok if I drop in and see you at Diosa tomorrow? I might need some help.

You and Lyla had known each other for a while now, but ever since she took over at Diosa, your friendship had faded slightly. Not because either of you didn’t care, but because life got in the way. You had your mom to worry about, and she had Diosa to run. You let out a faint laugh as you wonder why you never thought sooner to see if Lyla had a job for you, but then again working somewhere like Diosa would be completely new territory.

Lyla: Hi y/n. Sure thing I have 2 help Ope in the morning but will b in after 12. Hope everything is ok?

You stand up, getting undressed for your shower, catching your reflection in the mirror. Your hands trailing over your body as a flood of thoughts race through your mind. Can I even do this? Can I really be an escort? You tilt your head, studying yourself, doubt lingering over you but so does determination.

You step up to the doors, hesitating ever so slightly. You’ve driven past this place hundreds of times but stepping inside, is something you never even considered. You take a deep breath as you push the door open and take your first step inside.

Stepping into Diosa Norte for the first time, you stop to take in your surroundings. Women moving effortlessly through the room, leading men upstairs, their different conversations causing a low hum. The environment is some what warm and inviting, definitely different to what you had expected.

“Hey, can I help you?” A dark haired man approaches you, a phone pressed to his ear, but his conversation on pause to acknowledge you. His arms have intricate tattoos placed on them.

“Hi, I’m uh… looking for Lyla?” You say, glancing around the room before landing your eyes back onto him.

“Lyla? Yeah, she had some things to take care of, you know, but she should be back in a minute. Go ahead, take a seat” he looks at his watch before gesturing you towards a very comfy looking sofa.

“Thanks” you reply, offering a polite smile.

The man returns to his call. “Jax, you know what your Moms like if she said…” his voice fading as he walks deeper into Diosa.

As your eyes scan the ‘XXX’ menu in front of you, your attention is diverted when you hear someone calling your name.“y/n? hey!” Lyla greets you with a warm smile as she steps inside. Approaching you for a hug. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long” her tone light as she rubs your shoulder in a sympathetic way. “Let’s go upstairs” she says, leading you to the staircase.

You follow her, as you get to the top of the stairs you cant help but hear the sound of muffled moans accompanied by laughter and the slight creak of bed springs from behind the closed doors. You inhale a large breath as the smallest bit of uncertainty creeps in. Is this really where you belong? Lyla looks over her shoulder, catching the slight uncomfortableness written over your face. “Yeah, I never said it was any quieter up here” she laughs, as she opens the office door in front of you both.

She shuts the door behind you, the sound of pleasure fading away into silence. The rooms feels quieter as the weight of your situation hangs in the air. Lyla leans back against the desk, her stare sharp as she looks towards you.

“Come on then, what’s up?” She asks casually, a hint of concern underneath. She could tell from your text that something is wrong. She knows a brief history about your mother and her medical issues. She knows things have been rough these past few years so she’s already assumed it’s something to do with that.

“Where do I even begin?” You say with a shaky laugh, your throat tightening as you try to hold back the tears.

Lyla watches you closely, sensing the weight of your situation and the vulnerability you’re trying to keep hidden. You take a deep breath, the tears settling for just a moment as you begin to explain.

You tell her everything, a few tears spilled in between. You tell her all about your mother’s mounting medical bills, the ones you can’t keep up with no matter how hard you try. Losing your job, making it even harder. You tell her how it feels like the world is on your shoulders and there’s no way out.

“I just… I don’t know who else to turn to…” you say quitley. ”…are you hiring here?” You look towards your feet, knowing Lyla knows this isn’t your usual scene.

Her face immediately softens, stepping closer, the concern in her face evident. “I’m so sorry” her words are gentle yet reassuring. She knows what it’s like to be stuck, backed in a corner with no way out.

“I’d need to talk to Jax and Nero, I can’t just hire on the spot, it’s a process, but I’ll do everything I can to help” Her words aren’t the solution you’re looking for, but you can only try…right?

“Look, keep looking around just incase but I’ll talk to Ope tonight, I’m sure I can get him to talk to Jax… okay?” She holds your hand now. Her touch sincere.

“Thanks Lyla” you squeeze her hand, truly thanking her, this really could be your last life line.

“You okay babe?” Opies voice is soft but filled with concern as he sits at the edge of the bed, watching as Lyla enters the room. She exhales slowly, her mind still caught up in y/n’s situation. She gets comfy as she straddles onto Opie, her voice steady but tinged with worry as she starts to explain.

“It’s y/n, she’s struggling. Her mom’s bills are piling up, she's lost her job it’s just a lot for her right now you know…” her expression filled with empathy for her friend.

After a long pause, hesitantly she speaks up. “Do you think Jax could help? Maybe hire her?” She doesn’t want to sound too desperate, she knows Opie and the club already have a lot on their plate.

Opie closes his eyes softly, considering the question. “I’ll talk to Jax, but it’s not up to me” he responds “you think she could handle that?”. Lyla nods slowly, knowing you’ll do whatever it takes. She appreciates his honestly, hoping there’s a slight chance Jax and Nero will agree.

Jax is taking in the fresh air, enjoying a rare moment of quiet before Opie walks up, flipping open his lighter and sparking a cigarette. He takes a long drag before speaking.

“Lyla’s got this friend, names y/n” his tone starting casual. “She’s been dealin’ with a lot, moneys tight and her mom’s not doing too good. She's trying but it ain’t easy, brother”.

Jax takes the cigarette from Opie's hand, before inhaling himself he mutters “you tellin' me this for a reason?” Knowing Opie isn’t one to bring up something unless it mattered.

Opie takes a deep breath. “Lyla's been on my ass about helping her out. Figured I’d ask before she chews my ear off”

Jax smirks “and what can I do about it?” He passes the cigarette back to Opie.

“You got any jobs open at Diosa?” His eyes lay on the ground as he takes another drag.

Jax tilts his head, considering the idea “Lyla think she’d be a good fit?”

“Lyla thinks she just needs a break” he lets out a dry chuckle. “Nice set of tits though” He adds, continuing to laugh.

Jax rubs his jaw, thinking it over. “I’ll talk to Nero, see what we can do” he finally says. “Looking at another woman’s tits” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue in a mocked disapproving tone.

“Appreciate it” Opie nods, flicking his cigarette away.

“No promises” Jax insists, as they head back into the clubhouse.

Jax pulls up to his mom’s house, turning off the engine before stepping inside. Gemma and Nero are standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand. He leans down behind his Mom, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Hey ma” he says softly.

“Hey baby” Gemma says raising her hand to soothe his face.

Moving over to Nero, he pats him on the shoulder as he passes by, taking a seat at the table. “Wassup homes?” He smirks.

“You tell me mano” he says, watching Jax over the rim of his cup. “You look like you about to drop some shit in my lap”.

Jax exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “need a favor” he smirks just a little. “Lylas got a friend. Girls in a tight spot, needs money to help her mom or some shit. Looking for a bit of work. Lyla thinks she might be a good fit at Diosa” he waits for Neros response.

Nero takes a seat, leaning back in the chair. “She got experience?”.

Jax rolls his shoulders, “not sure” he admits. “I don’t have time to meet her myself, clubs got me running shit all over. Think you can handle it?”.

Nero studies Jax, making his own mind up. “And you trust Lyla’s judgment on this?”

“Lyla knows what she’s doing when it comes to the talent, and if she’s not cut out for it, no hard feelings send her packing” Jax smiles “I trust your judgement too” he fiddles with the toothpick in his mouth.

Nero nods, a small breath leaving his nose, like he’s already regretting his decision. He nods anyway “Have her come by tomorrow, I’ll check her out”

“Thank you brother” Jax responds as Nero shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah” he waves his hand “just don’t make a habit out of it, Diosa ain’t a damn charity”

Jax’s pushes his chair backwards, preparing to stand up. “Tell that to the girls paying your bills”.

Nero just laughs, shaking his head as Jax approaches his Mom. They exchange a few quick words before he leaves her with another kiss, signalling a small nod to Nero and then leaving, back into his own world of chaos.

As you walk into Diosa, your heart is racing, even more than the first time. Knowing you’re actually here to get the ball rolling. The scent of perfume and something sweet fills the air as you try to push your nerves down, the anxiety building in your chest.

Lyla spots you almost immediately, as she leans casually against the bar. “Hey girl, you ready to meet Nero?” Her eyes sparkling with reassurance.

“Hey” you say in response, swallowing your nerves and nodding as you followed her over to where Nero was stood. He was leaning against a wall near the back of the reception room, arms crossed scanning the place with calm authority. That’s when you realise he’s the same guy from the other day who you spoke to when you had first walked in.

As you got closer, Nero’s eyes flickered to you, a small hint of recognition lighting them up. “You… were here the other day right? Waiting for Lyla” you took a steady breath before speaking.

“Yeah that was me…I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m willing to learn, anything and I’m down” you practically plead.

Nero doesn’t respond straight away, he looks you up and down his expression unreadable. Finally he speaks. “Experience matters here mama…” his eyes soften ”…but having Lyla vouch for you? That means a lot… I’ll give you a shot. You got a week to prove to me how bad you want this… think of it as a you know, a sort of trial run” his eyes smile but his mouth doesn’t move.

“Lyla will show you the ropes and shit” he goes to walk off but turns round suddenly “it ain’t all about sex though mama, you remember that. Some of these men, want connection” he flickers his fingers in the air mimicking fireworks.

You smile at Nero, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ he gives the smallest nod before turning back to his business, already moving on from the conversation. Lyla rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you got this, okay?” she says as she squeezes you slightly.

Lyla walks you through the dimly lit halls, gesturing to the different rooms as she explains what (or who) goes down in each. “I’ll show you how things work, what the guys expect, what to look out for and all that stuff” and that’s exactly what she does, no sugar coating it either.

“Before we go any further, let’s talk safety” she says, her tone switching to professional. “First rule. You don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ever! I don’t care how much money they offer or how sweet they talk, if you ain’t feeling it, you say no, got it?” You nod, her tone coming down a notch.

“Second… protection, always. No exceptions. If they try to argue, tell them to take that shit somewhere else, every room has one of these alarms, use it if you need to. Someone will be up straight away” she then hands you a small bag full of condoms. “We keep these stocked, you’ll never run out. Every top drawer will be full of them, make sure they’re wrapped before anything happens” she pauses tilting her head, “you on birth control?”

You laugh, hesitating for a second, all of this feeling a bit surreal before you answer “yeah”, looking through the condom bag, different brands, sizes, styles and color.

“Good. If you ever need anything, pills, a doctor, whatever just come to me okay, no shame, no judgement” she straightens up, “you’ve got a week, I have faith in you sweetie” she says, giving you a sense of hope.

She gives you another small smile, seeing the nerves flow through you. “You won’t be getting down to the good stuff tonight, there’s a room just down there, clothes shoes and everything you’ll need, all different sizes. Find something that suits you, okay?” She says, you’re starting to feel at ease now. “Tonight’s about getting comfortable. We’ll have you mingle a bit, meet some of the girls, chat with the guys keep them happy with conversation while the others handle the rest… how does that sound?” She asks, leaning against the door frame, noting that you don’t look as tense as before.

“I think I’m good” you laugh, taking another deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

“Go on then, go find something to wear” she says with a laugh, pointing you to the room a few doors down.

Despite the nerves that held you back in the beginning, as the days go by you were starting to feel much more comfortable in your skin. It hadn’t been easy, but you were beginning to see just how well you were adapting to this new routine. Everyday felt a little smoother, and even though you had your moments of doubt, they weren’t as regular as before.

At first, everything had been a blur of awkwardness, especially your first client. The nerves were overwhelming and the experience was uncomfortable at best. But after that, something shifted. The second client was easier, all tension gone as soon as you found your hidden confidence. By the third, you realised Nero was right, it wasn’t all about sex, this guy just wanted to be listened too, be held as he cried about the dramas he was having with his wife. It was pretty sad actually.

Tonight, as the last day of your week, it was your chance to prove to Nero and the others that you were ready and that you wanted to stick around. There would be no turning back after today.

Jax stepped into Diosa with the rest of the club. It had been a long day, the kind of day that made you want to shut everything else out a lose yourself for a while. Diosa being the perfect place to do that. No questions asked, no drama, just the freedom to let off some pent up steam.

Jax slid onto one of the bar stools, catching the eye of Lyla behind the bar. He gave her a nod, and she waved back. His attention is shifting around the room as the rest of the guys settled in. His eyes finding you immediately.

You’re leant against the furthest side of the bar talking with a few of the other girls you had made friends with this past week. His gaze lingered, drawn to you without even realising why. He leant back on his stool trying to shake the feeling off, it’s a rare thing for him to feel something so quick for a woman he barely knew.

Nero, moving into the stool beside him. “I see you eyeing up the new girl” he laughs, waving one of the other girls attention for a drink.

Jax doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching as you laugh and engage in conversation. He couldn’t explain it but he felt drawn to you. “She new?” He questions.

Nero chuckles “you serious?” His eyebrow twitches “that’s y/n, the one you wanted to help out….” He says shaking his head.

Jax let out a dry laugh, rubbing his face “shit… that’s her?” He remembers the conversation he had with Opie, about Lylas friend needing help, but with him being too wrapped up in club shit he never had the time to actually sit down and meet her himself, passing the task onto Nero, that is until tonight.

Nero's grin grows wider “No shit mano, that’s your employee though can’t keep staring at her like you’re about to eat her alive”

Jax laughs, a yearning look in his eyes. “let’s call it quality control”.

Nero, shaking his head “sure, sure, but you might wanna think twice about sleeping with your workers” he raises his eyebrows.

Jax’s smirk faded just a little as he looks over to you once more, a whole new set of thoughts running through his mind. “Wish me luck” he says, standing from the seat and patting Nero on the back.

“That boy ain’t ever gonna learn” Nero muttered as he watched Jax make his way towards you.

Both you and Lyla are unaware of his approach. He took a moment, sweeping over you, trying to read you. You looked comfortable enough, but he could sense something slight in your posture, the way you carried yourself like you were still deciding if you belonged here.

Lyla clocks him first, smirking as she makes eye contact just over your shoulder. “Look who finally decides to show up, huh” she teases lightly. “y/n, meet Jax Teller. The other half of Diosa” she smiles.

For the first time, your eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the noise of Diosa fades into the background. There was something there. A pull neither of you could explain.

You held his stare, refusing to shrink under the weight of it. Instead, you offer a tender smile. “I just wanted to say... thank you...you know for the opportunity” your words stammering slightly as you try to hold his gaze.

A slow smirk grew from the corners of Jax’s mouth, something unreadable you noticed in his eyes. “No problem...good to finally put a face to the name” He gives you a small nod.

Opie walks up, wrapping his arms around Lyla from behind, whispering something into her ear. Whatever it was made her blush and smile. Opie nodded at you with a friendly smile “Hey y/n”.

He then slaps Jax on the shoulder. “Catch you later brother” Jax smirks in response, knowing exactly what their about to do. With that, Opie and Lyla excuse themselves from the conversation, leaving you and Jax alone, the sudden quiet between you, forcing a conversation.

Jax leans against the bar, getting closer to you now. “So...” he began, his tone smooth and casual “How’s your first few days been?” an edge of curiosity behind his tone.

You turn your whole body to face him now, he takes in what you’re wearing. A lacy black two piece hugging your body, with a long robe, feathers hanging off at the arm sleeves and its base veil, its soft fabric catching the light as you settle in your seat.

“It was... a lot to take in, but I...” you stop mid sentence as you realised what you’d just said, the unintentional innuendo slipping out from your mouth. Jax’s smile beaming, clearly catching on.

“Not... like that” you say quickly, laughing through your embarrassment. "not that it wasnt...but...I'm just gonna stop talking now…" you try to save yourself

Jax’s laugh grows louder, his shoulders dancing up and down with amusement. "It's okay, you ain’t gotta explain yourself” he teased, sensing how flustered you just got.

“So you busy tonight or...” he questions wondering how long he has left to talk to you.

Running your finger over the rim of your glass before drinking it, you begin to respond “Depends…if someone asks for me, then yes, if not then no, I'll just be down here floating around” You let your eyes trace over Jax’s form, a deliberate smile creeping onto your face.

“What about you?…” you ask, treading lightly, your tone low but teasing. “…you got a favorite girl here or...”

Jax’s eyes light up ever so slightly as a grin spreads across his face at your question. He chuckles whilst shaking his head. “I don’t mix business with pleasure” he says softly, as if he’s not entirely letting his guard down, not wanting to give away his mission of the night.

You let out a laugh, clearly not buying his answer. Before you go to question how he eases his tension, a client walks in. You glance at Jax with a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “See ya around…boss” you say, your tone playful, before making your way over to the man.

His gaze sharpens, the faintest hint of jealousy creeping in as he watches you sway towards the new comer. He continues watching intently as your figure moves, the sheer fabric of the robe barely concealing you as the feathers caressing the edge of the lower veil trail behind you. A restless twitch stirs just below his belt, his eyes sharpening as he takes you in. His eyes don’t leave the interaction as he watches you welcome the new client into Diosa.

Jax grits his teeth, his grip tightening around his beer as he watches you intently. His eyes narrow when the man moves in too close. Jax can see now that the man is completely intoxicated, swaying and mumbling things that don’t make sense.

You look left and right, clearly getting uncomfortable now, his breath is heavy and he’s pushing too close, not taking the hint.

Jax groans, pushing off from the bar and striding towards the both of you, every muscle in his body tense with readiness.

“We got a problem?” Jax’s voice is deep, causing the air around them to thicken. Nero, who is currently talking to an employee begins to steal looks almost as if he realises something is off. Chibs doing the same as he’s sitting with a Diosa girl.

You turn to him, thankful of his presence. “He’s too drunk to be in here” you say, looking back at the drunken figure. “I’ve told him hes gotta got but he’s insisting”.

The drunk looks around in your direction “just... s-suck my dick like I asked... you wh...” he hiccups in between words “...you whore”. He sneers, leaning closer again.

Before you can react, Jax is on him. His fist connects with the man’s jaw with a sickening force. He stumbles back, but not for too long. He retaliates, throwing a wild punch that catches Jax in the side of his face. Nero and Chibs appear from nowhere, rushing to break them both apart as the fight escalates.

The others upstairs, completely oblivious, lost in their own worlds of pleasure, as you experience your first down side of working at Diosa.

It doesn’t take long for the dust to settle. Nero throwing the man out, but not before adding a few punches of his own. Jax touches the cut now bleeding from above his eyebrow. His jaw tightens with lingering anger as he notices the blood. Without a word, he turns and walks off into one of the rooms, slamming the door behind him.

Nero gives you a once over, his look full of concern. “You good, Mija?” He rubs your shoulder gently. He’s impressed with how you handled that. No panic, no drama, just calm and collected. Jax though, will be hearing Neros thoughts later.

“Yeah, i’m okay, he was just too much…sorry” you admit, Nero nods in total agreement.

“We’re all about safety mama, don’t apologise. You did the right thing” he lets you know, before walking back over to Chibs.

You hesitate for a moment, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins. As the others continue talking, dissecting what had just gone on, you decide to quietly slip away and check on Jax, easing open the door he just slammed shut.

Jax was sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His once perfected hair now messy giving him more of a rough edge. His knuckles were raw, and a small trickle of blood ran from a cut just above his eyebrow. He exhaled deeply, lost in thought, but second he noticed you, he straightened. His blue eyes locking onto yours.

“You good?” He asks, his voice steady. Scanning you for any sign of distress.

You scoff just a little, “I should be asking you that” you say, walking further into the room, closing the door behind you.

“You could, but I asked first” he smiled, seeing you approach. You roll your eyes in response, feeling the way your chest tightens as his gaze lingered on you. He looked at you as if you were more than a woman he barely knew.

You don’t respond with words, you were too busy grabbing a paper towel from the nightstand and wetting it with some of the bottled water, the sound of soft rustling coming from the towel seems to fill the room as he tracks you with each step you take.

You kneel down in front of him, parting his legs slightly with your own. You were close to him now, a little too close, but neither of you seemed to mind. Your focus mainly on the cut above his eyebrow, his strong scent hovering around you, sweat, leather and smoke tinged with his personal smell. His hands are resting on the bed beside him, as if he was trying to maintain his composure. You could tell he was hurting but he wasn’t one to make a scene of it.

“Hold still” you mumble, as you dab the towel gently against the cut. His body shifting slightly in response to the pain. His eyes never leaving yours, except for the occasional quick glance down at your chest, so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off you.

“You always this caring for the guys you barely know?” He asks, his voice playful and almost teasing.

“You always checking out the tits of the person patching you up?” You shoot back with a smirk as you continues to clean the blood away from his face.

He falters for a second, a bit of colour rising up his face but he shakes it off just as fast. “Lyla told Ope about your mom, the bills and everything” he studies your reaction “That’s the only reason you’re here? Wanting the job?”

You finish cleaning the cut, then press your hands into his thighs as you push yourself up, the warmth of his skin seeping through his jeans. His eyes linger downwards, watching the way your hands move against him. “I’m not exactly here for the exercise” you laugh, but there’s a hint of something guarded in your voice.

He catches the way your shoulders tense slightly, he doesn’t want to push you any further, he tilts his head, taking you in. But he just can’t help himself. “Can I just ask you one more thing?” His voice is softer now, somewhat sympathetic. He doesn’t wait for you to answer “if you get the job and make enough money, will you quit?”

You pause slightly, giving him a small shrug “that’s the plan, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to make what I need”

“How much we talkin’?” His expression unreadable.

You shake your head inhaling another deep breath “too much to count” you decide to open up a little “I need five grand by the end of the month” you sigh saying the words out loud making it feel even more impossible to achieve it.

He doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand over his jaw, taking in everything you’ve said. The silence making your chest tighten again, so you decide to end the conversation before it gets even deeper.

“You’re all cleaned up” you say, brushing your hands off against each other as you turn towards the door.

His voice stopping you before you reach the handle “where you going?”

You look over your shoulder, “back out there, someone’s gotta be there to welcome them, pour drinks and all that” you laugh, confused as to where exactly he thought you would be going.

“What if I don’t want you to leave yet?” His voice dips lower, a look in his eyes as if his mission is about to succeed.

You turn towards him fully, raising your eyebrow just a little. “Then you’d have to do like the rest…and pay for my company” you smile cockily, your words teasing but clear.

He chuckles, clearly impressed by how easily you slip into the role of the confident woman who knows her worth. With a half smile he goes into his pocket, still not breaking the eye contact. He pulls out a thick roll of cash, tossing it onto the bed next to him with casual confidence. There’s no arrogance in the way that he does it, it’s more of a silent agreement, a sign that he’s more than willing to pay if it means spending more time with you. Your pulse quickens, then as if making a decision that could complicate things, you reach and turn the lock.

You take slow steps back towards him, letting your robe slip off your shoulders and pooling behind you, the motion looking effortless. Jax watches on, his tongue flicking over his lips as the anticipation darkens his gaze. Then, you kneel down once again. Undoing the laces of his airforces, slipping them off one by one.

Your fingers press into the arches of his feet, kneading out the tension that resides there. He exhales deeply, the sound rough and full of relief. “Damn” he mutters under his breath, leaning back onto his elbows as he watches you with his hungry eyes.

You smile in response, your eyes matching his. Working your thumbs over a tight spot before your hands start trailing upwards, slowly and deliberately. His breath hitches, as you reach for his belt buckle, undoing it with ease. You pull back for a moment, standing up straight and extending your hand to Jax with confidence, almost as if you were daring him to join you. He takes your hand in his. His fingers curling around yours as he stands. You kick off your heels, your height declining a little, as he looks down at you with his dominant presence.

You step closer, reaching for his kutte as you slide it off of his broad shoulders, placing it carefully on the back of the chair behind you. He watches you, not a word leaving his lips as you begin to take control of the situation.

A look of appreciation and desire in his eyes. Up until now, you have never allowed yourself to feel anything for any of the clients you’d been with, whether it was sexual or not. You’d kept them locked away. But with Jax, it's something you can’t ignore.

You slowly pull his crisp white tee over his head, revealing his muscular frame, slick with sweat from the events of today. Your fingers trace the ‘Abel’ tattoo on his chest, and he can feel the curiosity in the way you look at it. “my son” he says quietly, his voice carrying a tenderness you haven't heard from him yet. Your hands move lower, brushing over the rough scars left behind from the stabbings just below his ribs, the same thoughtful expression on your face. Without having to say a single word, he answers you. “prison” he mumbles, his voice almost sounding detached, as if its everyday you meet someone with the same scars.

You know nothing about Jax on a personal level, but of course you knew of SAMCRO with Lyla being your only real connection to the club, and that’s enough to keep you aware, but from a safe distance.

Over the past few nights, you’ve learned not to ask questions, not to pry into the lives of your clients but to just go with the flow. And right now, that’s exactly what you intend to do.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him, your hands picking up where they left off. Gripping the waistband of his jeans, you give them a firm tug. He kicks them off without any hesitation. With a slow and deliberate push, you guide him back until he’s bracing himself against the bed. Climbing on top of him, you move upwards, your hands trailing his thighs. You start by pressing messy, open mouthed kisses along his neck, feeling how his body reacts beneath you.

His breath fastens, his hands coming up to touch you in the middle of your back as your lips trail lower. Turning your attention to his boxers, you kiss him over the fabric, letting the tension build as his eyes lock onto you with raw desire. His hips shift beneath you, betraying his need for more. You slide his boxers down, revealing him full as he springs free from the cloth. Your approving eyes meet his, and the way you look at him has him swallowing hard.

Your eyes examine him with admiration, taking in every detail like his dick has been sculpted just for you. He stands thick and ready, his precum catching the light, shimmering under the soft glow from above. Every pulse and twitch letting you know just how ready he is. The moment your lips wrap around him, he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing beneath you. His hands move, not knowing where to place them fighting the urge to grab hold of you, to guide you deeper. You move your head with a slow and steady rhythm, taking your time before your lips finally meet the sensitive skin at his base. The feeling of his shaven pubes brushing against your upper lip. You take all of him whole and he cant hold back any longer. His fingers grip the back of your head, pulling you in closer, leaving you breathless as you struggle for air.

You grunt, as he releases the pressure, finally allowing you to breathe again. A trail of saliva drips from your mouth, falling back onto him. “Fuuuuck” he mutters, his body instinctively arching towards you. You let out a teasing laugh, a proud smile curling on your lips, pleased with yourself for taking him all in at once.

“Come here” he instructs, his voice low and seductive. Sitting up, he gently guides you closer. His fingers curling around your chin as he pulls you into him. His lips crash against yours, both urgent and demanding. He can taste himself lingering on your tongue. Each movement driving you wild, the sensation making your pussy salivate as it begins to drip for him.

Jax looks at you, his voice deep. “You got anything?” You point to the top drawer next to the bed in response. He moves quickly, opening it, his hands focused as he searches.

You watch him closely, your breath catching in your throat at he rolls it down with care, his every movement precise, the tension thickening with every passing second.

As soon as he finishes, he’s on you, grabbing you with a force that takes you by surprise. He lays you down on your back, his body pressing against yours. He can feel the wetness on his thigh as he uses it to guide your legs apart.

“you look so fuckable right now” he says, leaning back on his knees as he prepares to enter. He teases you gently, stroking his cock as he taps it against your wanting clit. Your jaw clenches with eagerness, “Fuck me then”. Jax did not need to be told twice.

He slowly enters you, as you let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation of fullness he’s causing. There's a lot of him to take in. “you good?” he laughs, checking in with you before he continues. When you nod, he increases his pace, his movements becoming more powerful.

You try to form words, to let Jax know he’s doing a good job, but you’re unable to form any, only short breathy pants and moans. Jax has a smug look on his face, enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

“You usually fuck your boss?” he asks, his voice authoritative as he continues to drive into you, his blonde hair grazing against your ear as he nestles his head into your neck.

You grab the back of his head, pulling it so that you make eye contact “Only if they seem worth it” you huff in response.

Jax cant help but laugh, even more turned on by your response. He quickly pulls out, only to turn you around guiding you onto your stomach, facedown. The audacity in your words fuelling his assertiveness. He grabs you by the waist, taking hold of you possessively, firmly forcing you to arch your back into a submissive position. “It’s like that is it? darlin’” his sudden aggression making you even wetter than you once were.

Your face is pressed into the pillow, but you manage to look slightly to the left, sneaking glances at him over your shoulder. His messy hair falls across his face as you watch his eyes roam your body, his expression dark.

He enters you again quickly, watching intensely as your ass crashes against his pelvic bone, sending waves through your skin. His hand reaches over pushing you down further into the pillow, the sound of your bodies meeting sounding like a round of applause.

Together, you move in perfect sync, your bodies working together to bring one another closer towards the edge. The room echoes with a mix of moans and gasps, each sound a testament to the intense pleasure you’re both currently experiencing.

Your hands reach back, spreading your cheeks giving Jax a newer sensation as he pounds in and out of you, he almost cant believe his eyes, how vulnerable you’re being for him. “Good girl” he groans, the slight difference in position making your walls tighten around him.

Jax, the man of many positions, now lies beneath you, the roles reversed. He can’t take his eyes off you. You’re the one in control once again. There’s a way about how he’s looking at you, taking in every moment unable to take his eyes off you. He’s lost in you, the way you look, the way you move, fucking beautiful - inside and out.

You hover above him, just out of reach, teasing him and keeping him wanting more. His hands grip at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, but you manage to stay in control. Loving the way his breath becomes rough with anticipation. Without warning, you take him in again, slamming down hard and deep.

Another moan leaving his mouth, his whole body tense again as the pleasure takes over. Your fingers glide over his body, as you ride the aftershocks surging through him.

Your hands are at his neck now, your body shielding his. He moves his hands, grabbing you by the ass with one and the other cradling your head in place, keeping you where he needs you, by his actions you can tell he’s used to being in control and taking what he wants.

He lifts his knees up gaining his own balance, his feet digging into the bed before moving his hips furiously underneath you, curving through your walls, each thrust forcing a gasp from your mouth.

“Ja- Jax…fuck…I’m gonna” you confess, unable to actually get the words out.

He smiles at your confession, his grip firm as he continues to hold you in place. Pressing desperate kisses onto your open mouth. “That’s…what I like… to hear” he mumbles, his words getting lost as you whimper into him.

His thrusts are getting slower, more sporadic. He’s close, and he can tell by the way your body trembles above him that you are too. His grip shifts once more. The hand placed on your ass, is now pushing firmly against your lower back, forcing him deeper. The pressuare sends you spiralling, you cry out as your body convulses around him, causing his cock to pump out cum.

He’s panting heavily along with you, his head buried onto your shoulder, his eyes wincing in pleasure. “y/n…fuc-” he pleads into your ear.

You don’t hear him of course you’re too busy wrapped up in your own climax. Your fists balling at the sheets beneath you, your head finding solace in the crevice of Jax’s shoulder. He releases the tension in his body as he throws his head back against the pillow, breathing hard with a satisfied smile on his face. He waits for you to come down and join him.

As the last waves of pleasure fade, you lift your head, meeting Jax’s eyes with a breathless laugh. Your bodies still tangled together, the heat dancing off the both of you.

With a slow movement, you slide off him, removing the condom carefully in the process. You tie it off and toss it into the nearby bin before crashing back down beside him.

Both your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you tessellating with satisfaction. Jax turns his head, a full smirk playing at his lips as he watches you, “Think I changed my mind” he admits, lazily resting his hands behind his head.

You raise your brow slightly, your breaths finally in regular rhythm again. “About what?”.

“Think you’re my first favorite” his smirk deepens, as he grabs his cigarettes off the side and lighting one up, the flame flickers, causing a slight glow against his face. You playfully smack his chest before retrieving your scattered clothing and getting them back on.

“Where you goin now?” He questions, a neediness in his voice, but you can tell he’s joking with it.

“What? Did you expect me to stay and cuddle” you respond tying the feathered robe back around your waist.

“Would have been nice” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair before standing up. The cigarette clinging to his lips as he exhales a stream of smoke, taking his time getting dressed as if he had nowhere else to be.

You watch him pull on his clothes, a small curve to your lips. Once he’s finished, you grab his kutte, stepping up behind him and sliding it over his shoulders, putting his pride back where it belonged.

“Thank you” he uttered, adjusting himself. He then spots the rolled up cash on the floor, the same stack he had tossed earlier.

With a lazy bend, he picks it up, handing it to you. Then, without a word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls another roll out, pressing it into your hand. His own hand lingering a little longer than it needed too.

The weight of the cash feels heavier, much more than it should as your fingers tighten around the stacks. A quick mental count tells you it’s close to four thousand, way more than you had expected. You look up at him, your eyes flickering with disbelief.

“Jax?… this is… a lot” you say, shocked but thankful.

Jax shrugs, feeling generous. “It’s a start..,handle what you need to” he says, like it’s nothing.

You stare at the money he had placed in your hand. Between this and what you’d already made this week, you now have enough to cover this months debt, something that less than an hour ago felt impossible.

Jax observes how you accept his help, with a slight tilt of his head he says “See you Monday night” throwing you a wink before you could even say thank you out loud, strolling out like he didn’t just change everything.

Nero glances up as Jax walks over, a knowing look in his eyes. “So… how’d your test run go?”

Jax can’t help but grin in response, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray upon the bar. “She’s got the job” he tells Nero confidently, no doubt about it.

Nero chuckles, a low sound of understanding as he pats Jax on the back “didn’t take you long to make up your mind, eh ese?”

Jax laughs, a low but genuine sound. “What can I say?” he says, throwing his hands up in a dramatic gesture, his shoulders lifting with the movement. “I’m a simple man” the familiar smirk spread across his face.

Photos & gifs are not mine - apart from the one with Jax's booty, had to go find the episode to make that one hehe.

Loved writing this, I know I say this every time lol. Also, sorry it took so long, I initially planned for this to be SO much shorter cause I feel like I may be writing too much? I just get carried away I cant help it lol.

To everyone who's sent a request, I'm not ignoring, I'm just working at them one by one, thank you for ALL! of them I'm excited to do them all, plus you all got some good ideas man I love it!

Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

[leyavo]

Wife/girlfriend series, I already done Ghost and Price. I think Gaz wouldn’t be married yet, but have a girlfriend… (posting Soap’s later…)

Gaz had his eyes on you ever since you stood up in court. The way your voice did not falter as you asked the difficult questions and got the defendant to crumble.

That and the pantsuit that was tailored to your body like perfection. Modest, but worn well.

You’re a military lawyer, Gaz watching over you, a favour to Laswell.

Gaz approached you as your hurried steps echo down the corridor. “If you have any notes, just send them to my assistant.” You brush him off, handing him your business card without looking up from your phone.

It’s not till he’s sitting in your office do you realise he’s there to assist you on the case and make sure no one tries anything. A particular messy political affair that you were more than capable to handle.

“I fear you’re wasted here sergeant Garrick.” You sway in your office chair, eyes on the paper in your hands.

“Don’t waste it then, I’m not only here for brute force.” He sifts through the folder beside you, “leave this guy till last, all talk and won’t last long towards the end.”

He’s a couple years younger than you, knows his people. Every now and then he’s making comments about the people you’re researching. Unknowingly helping you come to conclusion who can be trusted.

Late night researching and compiling information leads to you letting your guard down. He’s easy to talk to, charming without even trying. You end up ordering take out each night so you can work through all the details of the case. Gaz bringing you and your assistant a coffee each morning, he even remembers your specific order.

How could you not feel something for him? When his hand is on your back guiding you through the crowd or the way he shields you with his body when he thinks there’s a threat. You tell yourself he’s just doing his job, pushing down those feelings.

It’s not till you’re in a car crash, a targeted hit that he admits his feelings, but it takes time apart for him to do it. You’re arm broken and few grazes, whilst he’s lying unconscious in the hospital and later transported to the army base infirmary to get better. So you don’t see him for a while, finishing up the case by yourself.

Gaz entering your office days after, your assistant rushing after him. You nod for her to leave and she closes the door.

Turns out your not the only one that’s been holding back.

His arms wrapped around you, chin resting on the crown of your head. “Thank fuck you’re alright,” he said, wincing as you hugged him back. His ribs are bruised, bandage still on his head as if he’s discharged himself as soon as had the energy to come to you.

“There’s nothing to worry about now, those bastards won’t be walking free.”

His hands frame your face, “who would have thought you’d be saving me,” he said, nose nudging yours as his lips gently met yours.

You take Gaz out to dinner to thank him, a fancy restaurant that the portions are too small. The date going on all night and Gaz asking you have breakfast with him at a cafe.

Months pass and he’s away on a mission speaking to you via the webcam of whatever laptop he could get a hold of.

“How my girl?” He says, watching you at your desk as you scribble on your notepad. He likes that you’re always awake at random times and that 90% of the time you answer his call.

“Trying to clear this soldier, the systems so messed up Ky’ just so…” You rub your eyes, shaking your head and smiling back at him. “I’m good nothing I can’t handle, you look well. Guess you’re going dark soon if you’re calling me like this.”

Well, being the only word you can think of, the deep rims under his eyes and graze on his chin telling enough. He didn’t like dwelling on things, his positivity influencing you to see things on the brighter side too. He’s alive and breathing which is more important.

Gaz sighs, nodding. “Yeah, babe. Hopefully not too long this time. Make sure you look after yourself and take a fuckin’ break. You’ve got this though baby, I know you’ll win it and help the guy out.” Always reminding you how capable you are and trying to get you to rest.

“Look after yourself big guy, I can’t save you over there.” A smile tugging at both your lips. “I’ll book us some massages once you notify me of your travel.” The connection cuts out, your reflection staring back at you as Gaz’s screen goes blank.

The more you wait for him to contact you, the more you learn of how impatient you are. You’re checking your phone, emails and the old fax machine you got in case he’d communicate with you that way. You’d learn morse code if you had to.

Gaz surprises you with his return though. You’re at the military ball, glass of champagne in your hand as you swish it around in your hold. He stops at the top of the stairs and your breath hitches. Black suit and tie, his broad shoulders and cinched waist complimented by the tailor you’d recommended him.

As he descends the stairs you just stare, you can’t believe he’s really there. His hand finds the small of your back, lips pressing against your temple.

“Missed me, baby?” He whispers in your ear. You don’t have it in you to scold him for not telling you, he looks healthy and this time he’s returned with no marks.

It doesn’t take long till Gaz is moving into your apartment. He’s buzzing about the communal gym and swimming pool. Dragging you to do some self defence and weight lifting so you can look after yourself when he’s not there.

When you finally meet the rest of TF 141, Price is talking your ear off and asking about some big profile cases you helped run. Ghost already knows you through another mission, you over saw the legalities of transporting something as evidence on his solo mission. Soap is encouraging you as you talk about the broken system of protecting soldiers and how he knows others that haven’t been able to afford a good lawyer. Gaz not interrupting or telling them to shut up. He knows how passionate you are about your job and justice.

You give them all your business card “hopefully you won’t need them boys.”

Gaz collapsing on the sofa once the guys have gone. You curling into his side with a glass of red wine each.

[globaloppaaa]

tell us about meeting enhypen PLS

aw haha yes!!

again, might have to delete this in a week for privacy reasons hehe…

PART 1 of my lil story time

Meeting zb1

so on “night 2 😏” as me and my crazy obsessed friends like to remember, we figured “okay we have to perform tomorrow morning, let’s exit the arena early so we can just get to bed.” but the security guard gave us a weird look as we tried leaving with everyone else. he was like “no no, artists come through here” and ushered us to exit back through backstage… right as all the artists were coming off too.

so we’re walking back down the hall to leave and my eyes immediately focus on this group of tall ass dudes, i think my friends realized who they were too bc one of them whipped out there phone to record.

but i had done this before and knew that we should respect their space, and also knew since we were performing we couldn’t get caught doing anything to make the CJENM look bad bc they were our sponsors, i had to throw in that professional pep-talk that was like “DONT TALK DONT SMILE JUST BOW AND GO.”

as soon as i finished saying that it was like they just appeared before my eyes… enhypen was literally right in front of me like in a single file line, they looked like a kindergarten class lmao the formation was tight 😭

i didn’t get to have a conversation but we “very calmly and professionally” wished them good job and bowed lol, they said thank you and good job to us too!! i was like “are we actually important omg”.

Jake’s smile?? OH MY GOD could literally light up a sky i’m not exaggerating. he was so sweet and kinda gave frat boy lol.

Sunoo looked like the most precious little thing i’ve ever seen his little thank you was adorable (but he is NOT short lemme tell you)

Jay and Jungwon looked a bit confused lol i don’t think they could tell if we were random fans or performers bc our Badges were covered, but they both gave us thumbs up! Jungwon is… wow he’s like ripped. that muscle T did him so well lol. I think he got suspicious why my friend was “clapping” for them with a phone in hand haha.

Sunghoon? yeah um… so i didn’t know that my friend was secretly recording but

THATS HIM LOOKING AT ME

i looked at him and embarrassingly, time actually stopped 😭 i was like “so this is what true love is wow.” lmaooo he like LINGERED ON ME FOR A SEC? i didn’t wanna be up in his face so i just politely smiled and bowed

niki had been eyeing us during the concert FOR SURE… so when we said good job and greeted him he seemed almost comfortable saying hello! i was aw hey old pal. i have pics of this too but..privacy hehe

heesung is A SKYSCRAPER HOLY FUCK, like ik he’s not the tallest but mind you im like 5’3”. He smiled and it was so cute and said thank you while he was grabbing himself a water and it was such a special moment for us. i’m truly never gonna forget it!

let me know if you guys want any other stories with the other groups!!

[harrywavycurly]

Worst Mob Boss Ever: Book Club

Part 1: Here

A/N: I wasn’t planning on a part 2 but here we are because I got hit with inspiration, so enjoy✨

CW: Language, mentions of Harry’s “job”, mentions of past violent acts (broken nose), multiple “threats” of violence towards one person.

Tag List: @mema10 @angeldavis777 @outofthisworl-d @howling-wolf97 @umadirectioner @fangirl509east

Summary: Harry joins you for book club and it doesn’t go the way he imagined it would ✨

“They aren’t going to let you in dressed like that.” You warn the tall green eyed man who is standing next to you holding your slippers outside the parked car that’s currently in a driveway of a house he’s never been to before. Harry quirks a brow as he looks down at his suit, not sure why his attire would keep him from being able to enjoy an evening discussing a subpar romance novel. You shake your head and give Mitch a glare as you grab your backpack off the floor of your car. “You better bring it back with a full tank or I’m kicking your ass.” Your brother just rolls his eyes as he watches you sling a strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Just call me when it’s done.” You just nod and go to close the door. “And uh tell Sydney I said-” You close the door on him before he can finish his sentence making him laugh as you shoot him the bird before turning and facing the house.

“May I ask what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ignore Harry as you make your way up the path that leads to the front door of your bestfriend’s house. “Do they have an issue with Gucci or something?” He asks as he follows closely behind you while Mitch begins to back out of the driveway so he can go run the errands he needed to borrow your car for.

“I told you this is a cozy book club meaning you can’t just show up in a suit and honestly no one gives a shit if it’s Gucci or not.” You explain to him as you take the pair of slippers out of his hands that you made him hold for you while you got the rest of your stuff from the car.

“If I take the jacket off and roll up the sleeves it can give cozy vibes.” He offers making you roll your eyes because both of you know that nothing will make his suit look cozy.

“Just don’t embarrass me this-” Harry’s attention moves from you to the front door of the house as it swings open revealing someone he hasn’t seen in months, dressed in a matching pink and white stripped pajama set and white slippers.

“What the actual fuck is Harry Styles doing on my front porch?” You look at Morgan and then over your shoulder to Harry who looks more amused than annoyed or even shocked at her question.

“Good to see you too Morgan.” He greets your bestfriend with a smile making her cross her arms over her chest as she glares at him.

“I must have died and gone to hell because there is no way this is actually happening.” You raise an eyebrow at her as you try to ever remember her ever mentioning knowing Harry but you come up empty as the two of them just stare at one another.

“Uh how do you know him?” You ask making Morgan finally acknowledge you and you could laugh at how her face changes from a scowl to a soft smile as soon as her eyes meet your, but then she lets out an annoyed huff as she looks away from you so she can go back to glaring at the man behind you.

“That’s my cousin’s old boss. I met him at a holiday party a year or so ago.” Harry can’t help but feel his jaw clench as she motions at him with one of her red acrylic nails, not liking the tone she’s using at all. “He’s an asshole and-”

“I’m an asshole? Your cousin was the asshole or did you forget the reason why he no longer works for me?”

“So he borrowed some money-”

“I didn’t know stealing was the same thing as borrowing?”

“He paid it back.”

“Yeah after I broke his nose and threatened to beak his kneecaps with a crowbar.” Your eyes go wide as Harry tells Morgan what he did to her cousin as if it’s the most casual conversation he’s had all day. But to your surprise all Morgan does is place her hands on her hips and narrow her eyes at him while Harry just stands there unbothered.

“Oh please as if you ever do anything yourself you had Frank do it for you.” She snaps at him making Harry let out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief that of all the people in this city you could be friends with you somehow manage to pick someone who can’t stand him and all because he fired her cousin for stealing from him. And if Harry’s being honest she’s lucky her cousin is even still breathing but he’d never voice that out loud to her since she’s already looking at him like she wants to strangle him with her barehands.

“Frank? You think I sent Frank to deal with your idiot cousin? I wouldn’t trust him with my coffee order.” You feel like you’ve been standing on Morgan’s front porch for an hour when in reality it’s only been a few minutes but you decide in this moment you’ve heard enough and just want to go inside and change out of your work uniform.

“I’m going to go change while the two of you finish catching up.” Morgan looks at you and smiles as she moves to the side giving you enough space to walk through her front door, leaving her alone with Harry on the porch.

“Listen Morgan I’m not here to talk about your cousin or work I’m just here for book club.” Harry’s voice is calm and controlled, it doesn’t hold a single bit of the annoyance he has bubbling inside of him right now as he watches you enter the house and turn down a hallway so you’re no longer in his line of sight. Doing his best to hide the fact he doesn’t enjoy not being able to see you, he is willing to say whatever he needs in order to get inside the house.

“Fine but you’re not stepping a foot inside my house until you explain why you’re here with my bestfriend who doesn’t have anything to do with you or your business.” Harry can tell by her voice that she’s serious, she would make him sit outside on the porch all night until he gave her the details she’s looking for so he just nods before running a hand through his hair.

“I got into her car thinking it was mine and now here we are.” Morgan gives him a look that lets him know she isn’t buying a single word he’s saying.

“You got into her car thinking it was yours? Why because it’s a big black suv?” Morgan furrows her brows as Harry lets out an annoyed sigh and just shrugs in response making her roll her eyes. “God you’re such a narcissist.”

“So I’ve been told.” He says with a smirk as he remembers a very similar conversation he had with you earlier.

“You can’t come in dressed like that.” Morgan states as she eyes his suit and Harry for a moment considers just using your phone so he can call Eric to come get him but he really wants to see what this book club is all about since you were willing to risk your life by threatening his head of security just to get to it on time.

“Sorry I missed the memo that went over the dress code but this is all I have.” He explains making Morgan rub her lips together as she contemplates several options in her head, and when she finally gives Harry a smirk he knows he’s not going to like what she’s about to tell him.

“Fine just lose the jacket and you have to wear slippers.”

“I don’t wear slippers.”

“Then you don’t come inside.” Morgan watches Harry run a hand over his face as he lets out a sigh of defeat before looking at her and motioning towards the front door.

“Fine lead the way then.” She smiles and turns around to lead him into the house. “Just please don’t make them fuzzy.”

You walk out of Morgan’s bedroom finally feeling a bit more relaxed now that you’re out of your work clothes and in your gray sweat-shorts and pink t shirt, you smile as you walk down the hall and can hear the sound of Sydney’s voice. When you turn to go into the living room you feel like you just entered a weird alternate universe because Harry is sitting on the couch with his sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows, his suit jacket hung over the armrest of the couch, a pair of red and white fuzzy slippers with hearts all over them on his feet that are propped up on Morgan’s ottoman and a glass of wine in his hand. You look over to his left and see Sydney sitting next to him with her back against the armrest so she’s facing him with her wine glass clutched in both hand as her eyes go wide with a wild kind of excitement at something he just said.

“Wait you like-you can do that?” Sydney asks making Harry just nod in response as he takes a sip of his wine while you walk over to the loveseat across from the couch.

“He can do what?” You ask making Harry’s eyes travel across the room until they find yours and you ignore the small flutter your heart does when he gives you a smile as if he hasn’t seen you in ages when it’s just been ten minutes.

“He can beat up Johnny for me.” Sydney answers with an excitement you haven’t heard from her ever since her ex, Johnny cheated on her a few weeks ago.

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself.” He’s looking at you as he speaks and you roll your eyes as you lean over to grab the bottle of wine off the coffee table so you can pour yourself some but Harry is quicker than you so he beats you to it. Placing his own glass down on the coffee table, he picks up the bottle of white wine and an empty glass. “You’re quite scary when you’re annoyed so I can’t image how terrifying you could be to someone who really pissed you off.” He adds as he holds the full glass of wine out for you to take, an annoying grin on his face.

“She tried but he-” Sydney begins but then pauses to take a sip of wine.

“He what?” All the lightheartedness leaves Harry’s voice as he turns to look at Sydney and she swallows the sip of wine in her mouth before she turns to look at you which makes Harry follow her gaze, his green eyes a shade darker as they stare into yours. You want to laugh at how serious he is but you don’t, you oddly find it kind of nice knowing he seems upset at the mere idea of someone doing anything to you.

“He called the cops on me.” You answer for Sydney with a chuckle as you lean back into the cushions of the loveseat, doing your best to get comfortable.

“That’s because Johnny is a little bitch who was scared shitless the moment he saw you pull up into his driveway with that baseball bat.” You roll your eyes as Morgan explains what happened as she walks into the living room and places a tray of snacks down on the coffee table. Harry can’t fight the small smile that works its way onto his face as he imagines you in a fit of rage pulling up to someone’s house holding a baseball bat.

“Well he sure didn’t seem scared when I used it to smash his windshield. Seemed more angry than anything.” Harry takes a moment to look around the living room, as far as book clubs go he feels like it’s on the smaller side since it’s only the three of you and then him but he also for some reason feels the same way he does when he enters a meeting that’s just with his top men. So he can’t even stop himself before he says what comes to his mind next.

“Are you lot in a gang? Is that what this book club is actually for? Just a cover up for your meetings to discus who needs to be met with a baseball bat in their driveway?” All three of you look at him with playful glares making him just quirk a brow when Morgan takes a sip of her wine and looks away from him first so she can go into the kitchen to grab some napkins.

“Do you not have friends Harry? Because not every group of friends that are willing to go to jail for each other is a gang.” Sydney asks as she reaches over and gently places a hand on Harry’s knee and you have to rub your lips together to keep the laugh inside when you watch her give his knee a nice reassuring pat. “If you don’t that’s fine you’re like a big deal so-”

“Don’t feed his ego please he’s actually the worst mob boss ever he doesn’t even have a phone.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“I have a phone I just don’t have it on me right now.”

“What? So how do your uhm people know where you’re at?”

“I had to-”

“He called his security guy on my phone.”

“Oh is he cute? This security guy?”

“He had a nice phone voice.” You answer with a shrug before taking a sip of your wine while Harry has to bite his tongue to keep him from saying the worst things about Eric just to keep your friend away from him and for you to want to take back the thing about his nice phone voice. “His name is Eric.”

“Eric? Oh I know Eric. He’s your type Syd.” Morgan states as she places the napkins down and finally takes her spot next to you with her wine glass, she gives Sydney a playful wink making her let out a laugh.

“You can do better than Eric he’s not the best when it comes to dating someone.”

“I didn’t say I was tying to date him Harry.” Sydney mumbles as she takes her hand off his knee making you lean your head back and laugh when you see Harry close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his free hand as the realization of what Sydney actually means hits him.

“Well I have no comment on how he performs in that department.” He answers as he brings his wine glass up to his lips to take a rather large sip.

“But seriously you’d like-like really have someone beat Johnny up for me?” Sydney asks shyly as if she doesn’t fully believe that Harry has the connections or the time to deal with her ex boyfriend who he doesn’t even know. You look at Morgan because she’s the only other person in the room that knows what Harry does for a living and the type of people he’s associated with, she’s already looking at you and playfully wiggles her eyebrows as she sips her wine.

“Syd he could have Johnny more than just beat up.” Morgan says as she looks away from you and over to the girl who is now looking at Harry with a suspicious expression on her face. “He could have him swimming with the fishes if you know what I mean.” Sydney’s eyes go wide while Harry as usual looks completely unbothered as he turns his head so he can look at the girl who now seems a bit concerned with how close she’s sitting to him now that she knows what he’s capable of.

“The term is swimming with the fishes.” Harry corrects with a gentle smile while still looking at Sydney, Morgan just lets out a huff as she leans over to grab an apple slice from the snack tray on the coffee table. “And while yes I could make that happen I don’t really think it would be necessary in this situation.” You watch in amusement as Sydney stares at Harry with a hand clutching her chest and the other holding onto her wine glass for dear life.

“Okay well what would you do to him then?” You ask out of pure curiosity because you want to know what sort of punishment he thinks is fitting for Johnny, hoping it’s nothing too disturbing since he’s already mentioned to you how he has cars blown up with people he doesn’t like or sees as a threat as if it’s no big deal.

“Well in situations like these death is too nice so you simply make them wish for death just so the torture can end.” Harry doesn’t want to come off too harsh or make any of the girls in the room fear him, especially you so he does his best to make his tone soft and gentle even if the words are far from either of those things. But given how Morgan’s mouth is slightly hung open and Sydney’s eyebrows are almost raised so high they are hitting her hairline he would say his method didn’t work as well as he intended.

“Holy shit.”

“Did you-you say torture?”

“Jesus Harry you can’t talk about torturing someone so badly they beg for death while wearing fuzzy slippers at a spicy book club meeting.” Your words have Harry looking down at his feet and immediately rolling his eyes at the horrendous slippers that Morgan forced him to wear just so he could gain entry to her house.

“I’m sorry I just-”

“You’d be willing to do that? For me?” Everyone’s heads turn to look at Sydney, Harry feels an anger beginning to burn inside of him as Sydney looks at him with eyes that tell him she’s not used to people being so willing to do things for her let alone have someone hurt on her behalf and he knows it’s because no one has treated her the way she deserves.

“It’s the least I could do for you love.” He answers making a small blush creep its way onto her cheeks. “And if I’m being honest I wouldn’t really be doing it for you. I’d be doing it for myself because he just sounds like someone who needs to be taught a lesson or two on how to treat someone.” If there’s one thing Harry truly hates it’s men who don’t know how to treat their partners and this Johnny fellow doesn’t even know he just earned himself a spot on Harry’s shit list.

“So you’d handle it personally then?” Morgan asks with a quirked brow because she knows Harry almost never gets his hands dirty anymore unless he’s given no other choice.

“Yes I’d do it myself just like I did with your cousin.” Harry says as he glances at Morgan and gives her a look that tells her he’s not lying, he really is the one who broke her cousin’s nose.

“As long as you’re the one doing it I’m fine with it.” Sydney states nonchalantly as she leans over to grab a cracker off the snack tray.

“I do have one condition though.” He says with a smug like smile on his face as his attention shifts from Morgan over to you.

“A condition? You don’t get to negotiate something you offered to do in the first place Harry. How are you an actual mob boss? You really are the worst.” You argue as you glare at him making that annoying grin spread across his face, the one that makes his dimple appear and the butterflies to go off in your tummy.

“You have to agree to go to dinner with me next week.” You feel your eyes go wide as your mouth drops open while Morgan and Sydney stare at Harry with equally just as shocked expressions.

“Oh fuck off Harry I’ve already been held hostage by you in my own car and now you want to trap me into going to dinner with you just so you’ll beat up Johnny? You’ve lost your mind.”

“I haven’t lost anything. I’m just going off that old saying of if you’re good at something don’t do it for free.”

“We aren’t offering up our friend as payment for you to almost kill someone Harry. Don’t be fucking gross.” Morgan says in your defense but Harry doesn’t pay her any attention, his eyes still set on yours as he waits for your answer.

“Yeah Harry you’re acting like one of those poorly written romance novel mafia bosses who kidnap the girl they like and force them into a weird marriage and we are very much anti forced anything around here.” Sydney adds making both you and Morgan giggle as her worlds become a bit jumbled towards the end due to the fact she tries to take a sip of wine while still speaking.

“I’m not forcing her into anything she can say no and that would be fine.” You bite your bottom lip as Harry stares at you.

You let out a long sigh before you take a sip of wine to help calm your nerves as you contemplate your options, you know Harry is involved in a world you’ve only really read about or watched movies depicting the violence that takes place in it but you also know there’s a subtle softness to him. Because even now the man is at a book club drinking shitty wine and wearing slippers all so he could spend the rest of the evening with you. Once you’ve made your choice you lean over and place your glass on the table before crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him.

“I’m not going to dinner with you until after you do whatever it is you’re going to do to Johnny.” You counter his original offer making him narrow his eyes at you a bit clearly not expecting you to be try to negotiate with him.

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not going to argue with me about it or anything?”

“Nope.” His answer makes you raise an eyebrow because it’s a bit unnerving how quickly he accepted your offer. “If you try to flake out on me I know where to find you.” He adds as a gentle reminder that he knows where you work and what kind of car you drive. While Harry is busy looking at you he doesn’t notice Sydney’s hand coming up to smack him upside the head causing his eyes to narrow as he turns and gives her a harsh glare but she doesn’t even seem the least bit bothered by it as she’s also glaring at him.

“You can’t threaten her while also asking her out on a date Harry god you are the fucking worst at this.” You have to bring a hand up to cover your mouth so your laughter doesn’t spread throughout the room as Sydney lets Harry have it. “Like seriously learn some manners.” She adds with a huff as she gets comfortable on her side of the couch.

“See what I mean? Worst mob boss ever.” You say with a laugh making Harry roll his eyes as he turns his attention back to you.

“Are we going to actually discuss the book or just sit here and give Harry a list of people we need him to hurt for us?” Morgan asks as she motions to the book in question that’s sitting next to the snack tray on the coffee table.

“For every name you add to the list it’s another dinner she has to go to with me.��� He explains knowing it will make you all huffy and annoyed, something he’s coming to enjoy even though he knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help that he likes the way your eyes get this little glimmer in them when you look at him while frustrated with something he’s said or done.

“So the book it is then.” You answer for everyone making Harry chuckle as you reach for your copy that has your bookmark on the page you left off at, deciding for the rest of the girls that one dinner with Harry is all you’re willing to do at this point. So when they both just nod and grab their own books you let out a small sigh of relief because you know deep down that the more time you spend with Harry the more you’ll probably end up enjoying it and you can’t have that because who wants to enjoy the company of the worst mob boss ever? Certainly not you.

[sophsbookstore]

Cookies Included

Auston Matthews x reader ｡･:*˚:✧｡

Word count: 1500

A/N: posting all my hockey drafts! NHL master list (hopefully) come soon

Auston Matthews was in the kitchen, trying his best to look serious as he watched you roll out dough for the cookies. You were wearing one of his old jerseys—an oversized, cozy thing—and you looked so focused that it made Auston grin despite his best efforts to look like he was helping.

“You know, I can’t believe you’re making all of these,” he said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, but his eyes never left you. “You're going to make me the most popular guy on the plane. I’ll have everyone on the team eating out of my hand with these.”

You shot him a playful look over your shoulder. “You know, it’s not just about getting you brownie points with the guys. I’ve been practicing these recipes, and I want them to be perfect.”

Auston’s face lit up. “So you’re baking for me, then?”

You giggled, turning to face him. “Well, I’m baking for you, but you’ll have to share with your teammates. No choice there, Mr. Popular.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re making me share your cookies? I feel like that’s a crime.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love a little attention,” you teased, rolling the dough out with the kind of precision that spoke to your inner perfectionist. “Besides, you know you’ll look good bringing these snacks Matthews.”

His lips curled into a grin. “I always look good, what are you talking about?”

You were in the middle of cutting out the first batch of cookies when Auston stepped up behind you. His broad chest was warm against your back, and he placed his hands on the counter, peering over your shoulder. “I’m really good at decorating, you know. I could help with that part.”

You snorted, unable to hold it in. “Oh, yeah? I’m sure your ‘skills’ could rival those of a professional pastry chef.”

“Hey, I’ve got an eye for detail,” he said, his tone playful but feigning confidence. “Watch and learn.”

You handed him a piping bag filled with icing and grinned. “Alright, show me what you got, Matthews.”

Auston took the bag and squeezed it, but the icing didn’t come out in the neat little swirl he was hoping for. Instead, it splattered across the cookie in a way that could only be described as abstract art.

He glanced at you with wide eyes. “Huh.”

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “That’s... not exactly what I envisioned when I asked for ‘decorating help.’ But nice try.”

Auston gave you a sheepish smile and then leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “Okay, fine. I might not be a decorator, but I’m a pro at eating them. So, I’ll leave the fancy stuff to you. I’ll just be your official taste tester.”

“You can taste-test all you want, but you’re not getting out of this,” you replied with a smirk as you skillfully decorated the next batch of cookies, leaving the ones he had touched to the side. “You’re still helping me. You’ve got two hands, Auston. Use them.”

“I’ll use one hand for icing, and the other hand for… well, more eating.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing your cheeks to heat up, though you tried to keep a straight face.

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

He just chuckled, stepping back to give you room to finish the batch. “It’s hard to resist when I’ve got such a cute baker in front of me.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling your heart race a little. “Are you flirting with me while covered in icing?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Auston said with a wink. “But seriously, you look adorable, even when you’re criticizing my decorating skills.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you suddenly felt shy under his gaze. “Stop being so charming,” you said, trying to focus on piping icing onto the last batch of cookies. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

He grinned like he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re welcome.”

After a while, the cookies were ready. You’d decorated them with a mix of simple designs and some that were a little more chaotic thanks to Auston’s input. The cookies were definitely an interesting mix of perfectly neat and totally offbeat. But you’d made them with love, and that was what mattered.

Auston packed them up carefully, grabbing the container and wrapping it up in cling wrap. “Alright, time to go. I’ve got a plane to catch and a team of hungry guys waiting for these. Let’s just hope they’re good enough to forgive the, uh, artistic choices we made.”

“They’ll love them,” you said, your confidence back. “They may look weird, but they’ll taste amazing. I’m not saying I’m a genius, but I know what I’m doing in the kitchen.”

“Just like you know what you’re doing to my heart, huh?” Auston shot you a playful wink as he lifted the container with one hand.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “Okay, smooth talker. Go give the guys their cookies before you get too cocky.”

Auston leaned down, pressing a kiss to your cheek before heading toward the door. “I’ll text you after the game. Promise I’ll save a couple for us when I get back.”

“Don’t you dare eat all of them,” you called after him with a laugh.

“I can’t make any promises,” he teased back, his voice fading as he walked out of the apartment, leaving you with a smile that stayed with you long after he was gone.

The next day, you were pacing around your kitchen, anxiously waiting for a message from Auston. He’d landed in Boston, played his game, and was probably having fun with the guys. You had a feeling that they were probably getting a kick out of the cookies.

Sure enough, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it eagerly.

Auston:They taste amazing, but I’m pretty sure half of them look like they belong in a modern art museum. I think Mitch is planning to hang one on the wall.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you typed back.

You’re welcome. I’m just happy they didn’t taste like a disaster. At least they won’t be getting bored with plain old chocolate chip cookies.

A few seconds later, the phone buzzed again.

Auston:You’d be amazed how many times we’ve joked about how much your cookies look like a Picasso painting. But seriously, the guys all loved them. I’ll bring some back for you. Promise.

You better, Matthews. Those cookies didn’t make themselves.

Auston:I know. I’ll never question your baking skills again.

You smiled to yourself, feeling warm inside. The night was still young, but you could already tell that it was going to be a great one—cookies, playful banter, and the thought of Auston coming home to you later made the wait feel worth it.

When Auston finally returned, a few days later, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for him. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, holding a bag of leftover cookies. He immediately dropped it on the table and came over to give you a tight hug.

“You look good, babe,” he murmured into your hair, his arms strong around you. “Missed you.”

You pulled away, grinning. “Missed you too, but I’m more excited for these cookies.”

Auston laughed, grabbing the bag from the table and handing it over. “I was almost going to eat them all on the flight home. But I’m a man of my word, so here you go.”

You eagerly opened the bag, pulling out one of the cookies that had survived the trip back. You inspected it carefully, noting that it was one of the more... experimental ones. “Hmm. This one looks like it was decorated by a toddler.”

Auston chuckled. “We can thank Mitch for that one. He said he’d hang it on the wall for me.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened. “Okay, okay. I’ll admit it—these might actually be your best work.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re happy I brought them back,” Auston said, sitting down beside you. He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe because you just love me that much.”

You bumped him with your shoulder. “Maybe a little bit of both. But seriously, next time you decorate, let’s just stick to the simple designs.”

“I’ll consider it,” he said with a wink, pulling you close. “But only because it’s you.”

You smiled, leaning into him, the warmth of his arms and the sugary sweetness of the cookies making everything feel perfect.

“Good thing I’m so irresistible,” he added with a smirk, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

“Lucky? I’m a hockey player. We’re basically all good-looking by default.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss him. “I’ll take your word for it. Now, let’s finish these cookies.”

Auston grinned, wrapping his arm around you, his focus on the cookies fading as he pulled you closer.

"You're all I need, cookies included."

[faerygrant]

winter baby

warnings: smut, breeding kink, general filth, swearing.

notes: carmen rushes you into the staff bathroom during family, in order to fulfill the goal the two of you are hoping to achieve by next winter.

Attending family at the bear had recently become a normal part of your daily schedule. Not only did you get to enjoy the staffs expert cooking, but you were also granted a little more time spent with your favourite man. Carmen always insisted you joined the staff, because to him and them, you are part of the bear family. You’d never been one for exhibitionism but recently both you and Carmy had decided you wanted to add a Berzatto baby to your home by next winter. Ever since that conversation, the two of you were insatiable. Disgusting almost, in the bedroom, the shower, Carmen’s office and you hated to admit it, but also in Richie’s car.

So here the two of you were, sat at the table with the staff, as Tina went on with a story, something about her time at culinary school, you weren’t sure at this point, especially with Carmen’s hands discreetly wrapped around your upper thigh. As Tina continued with her story, and laughter filled the room, Carmen had become bold enough to start touching you. You couldn’t stop the gasp that left your mouth once his fingers made way into you, his eyes flying to yours, so dark and full of need…hunger.

“You good?” Richie is the first to look at you, and you quickly nod in embarrassment. “Yeah I’m fine, just bit my tongue.” He nods, buying into your lie, as does the rest of the table. Carmen seemingly impressed with your acting decides to push his fingers deeper into you. “Y’did good f’me, but I’m going to remove them inna sec.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your ear, to mask the small conversation the two of you were having. “Bu— why?” You silently whimper, as you feel him slowly pull his fingers out. “Theres no need wasting your orgasm, you know my seed will only take if you finish, so I need you to go to the bathroom right now, I’ll meet you in there.” You nod, at the same time you feel his fingers fully leaving from inside you.

“Excuse me guys, just gonna use the washroom.” You announce, and the staff all nod, oblivious to what was really about to go down. As you push open the bathroom door, you wait patiently, wondering what kind of excuse Carmen would be coming up with, as to not draw any suspicion to the real, dirty reason he was following you into here. Soon enough you heard a tap at the door and you made quick work of unlocking it, and in came Carmen.

“Take it out, need to fill you.” He groaned as he wrapped his arms around you waist, proceeding to hike up your skirt. You swiped your underwear to the side, revealing your aching pussy. Fumbling forward while he balanced you on the wall, you pulled his cock out of his pants. Red with want, you spat on your hand, smearing it along his length as best you could. Being sure to coat the head thoroughly, slipping down to your waiting entrance.

You couldn’t stop the loud yelp that left your mouth, pleading with him for more, “Fuck, more Carm…”

You closed your eyes, humming as he plunged in deeper. Both of you sucked in a breath as he seated himself fully, “Gimme a baby Carm,” your lips met his with a feral hunger, Carmen rested his forehead on yours, “I promise I will give you one, but right now I need you to focus on taking it all ok?”

“Need it all carmy, want it dripping out of me…”

A small thrust, jolting your head to slam back into the wall with a thud. You giggled a little before slinging your arm around his neck. Carmy kissed your forehead, softly thrusting inside you, barely moving more than an inch. Deep pressure that settled in your gut like a rock, you tightened around him.

You whimperd again, “Yessss…”

He huffed against your sweating skin, thrusting shallowly inside you. Bumping you against the wall in a soft thud, you clutched just shoulders. Digging in through the fabric as you leaned forward. Bringing your lips to suction to his throat, echoing a moan when you made contact.

Carmen choked as you ran your teeth across his skin, voice booming in your ear, “Jesus-fuck angel, I’m gonna cum.” He ground inside you hard, rumbling around your sensitive walls over and over in small circles. You squelched around his length, holding on for dear life.

You wanted his cum-you’d been thinking about it since you left for work in the morning, and on your way to the restaurant. Nodding as he slammed his hips into yours, stilling. You panted on his shoulder, staring into the mirror on the opposite wall.

Wide-eyed, mouth popped open in pleasure, peering over his massive shoulder. Broad back flexing under his signature white shirt while he fucked you, clenching at how submissive you looked. Legs open around his hips, eyeliner running down your face.

“Don’t want a single drop going to waste, okay?” he huffed.

You didn’t break eye contact with his striking blue eyes, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, Carmy.”

[hergrandplan]

"He's the one"

thank you @enjoythesilentworld for this fun tag!!

Post a 1-5 paragraph excerpt of a WIP/fic idea that may never make it out of your drafts but is near and dear to your heart.

I started this so so long ago and actually looked at it a few days ago and realized that this may simply be one I can't figure out. I know what it's supposed to be (exes who are friends, and then Simon gets engaged and Wille becomes his best man) but I don't know how, and either way, I don't think this particular scene will make it in! So here it is, for your enjoyment (yes. this is longer than 1-5 paragraphs. it could have been even longer but there were too many square brackets in the final few that I couldn't figure out. but hey. More cake!)

**

With a loud “Wille, you’ll never believe what happened!” Simon stormed into the living room, temporarily making Wille look up from the book he was reading. A book he was enjoying.

He already regretted giving Simon the keys to his house. One of these days, he was sure, Wille was going to come home and find Simon splayed out on his couch, having raided his cupboards and eating all his snacks.

“What, Simon?” he said with feigned disinterest, while trying to finish this last paragraph.

Simon grabbed the book out of his hands before he could, and tossed to the other side of the room.

“Hey!” Wille exclaimed. [maybe this needs to be more of a description of the sound like ‘disgruntled noise’ or something but not disgruntled] “I was reading that!”

“You can read later, I have something to tell you.” Simon sat down on the couch next to him, the widest grin possible on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. “I met someone. And I’m pretty sure he’s the one.”

“You said that about the previous guy. And the guy before that. And the guy before that.”

“Yeah, but this time I’m sure of it.” Simon fell back against the couch cushions, and ran a hand through his black curls. “He’s sweet, and considerate, and incredible in bed. I mean the way he–“

“Okay, okay, I do not need to hear you go on about your sexual escapades again, please. Where did you meet him?”

Simon’s hand got stuck in his curls, and he blushed. Actually blushed, and that’s how Wille knew the answer.

“Please don’t say the club.”

Simon didn’t reply.

“Simon, we talked about this. Not every guy you fuck is the one.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s different! I mean, I met him last Saturday and we went out for dinner last night and Wille,” Simon sat up again, stared into Wille’s eyes. “I came from his place just now. I haven’t even been home yet since Saturday. He has a bed frame. A bed frame that is incredibly suitable to – ” Wille gave him a look, and Simon stopped mid-sentence. “Okay, it doesn’t matter what it’s suitable to, but c’mon.”

“Wait, but if you met him Saturday –“ Wille quickly did the math in his head. “Simon, you’ve known this guy for what, 4 days?”

“I know, I know, it’s too soon but truly, I’m telling you, he’s the one. For real this time.”

Wille rolled his eyes and get up to get his book from where Simon had flung it to heedlessly.

“Sure. Tell me again in a month when it hasn’t crashed and burned again, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Simon’s problem, according to himself, was that he just loved too much and that they were never able to handle it. And maybe he was right, a bit – almost every guy he met was the one until he found they weren’t ready for a relationship, were still in love with their ex, or, in more than one case, had a girlfriend already.

Simon’s problem, according to Wille, was that he couldn’t see past all the raging red flags. Simon would have killed it if he were a bull fighting in the arena.

Not tagging anyone bc Idk who has been tagged already and I sadly dont have the brain capacity or the time for that rn. So if you see this and want to join in: this is your sign!

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Drives Me Crazy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You and Spencer fall into a routine when he walks you home after every shift. Then one day, a storm makes you invite Spencer up to your place where feelings are confessed over alcohol and dim lighting.

Square Filled: habits and routines for @genprompt-bingo (dreamwidth bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

What you do is rewarding. You love coming to work knowing you get to be surrounded by such loving dogs and cats who don’t have homes. Despite what people might think about shelter animals, they’re so loving and very kind. Once in a while, you’ll get an animal who is so scared that they’ll bite and attack, but you have people here to deal with those kinds of animals.

Not you. You only deal with the ones who love to play fetch and tug-a-war. The ones that love belly scratches and cuddles. Right now, you’re giving one of the new recruits a bath in the back. He’s a shaggy-haired dog who seems to think that bath time is playtime. To keep you safe, you have to hook their collar to the back wall so that they don’t jump out, but that doesn’t seem to stop this dog from trying.

“Pip, what are you doing? Come on, stay still,” you say to the dog as if he could respond to you.

You grab the shampoo and squirt it all over his back. You have brush gloves on so that you can scrub and rub at the same time, so that’s what you try to do. As soon as you touch his back, he jerks and barks happily. He thinks you want to play which brings a smile to your face.

“Pip, I have to get you clean. Then, we can play. I promise.”

He calms down enough to let you lather him up with soap, but he’s not so calm when the water comes out. You try to spray him down as much as you can but he starts to shake the suds off. Soap goes everywhere, and you squeal when it splashes all over you.

“Y/N?” You look back at your coworker. “There’s a Spencer Reid to see you.”

Shit, is it that time already? You look at the clock and confirm that indeed, it’s time to go home.

“Can you finish up here? I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

“Sure.”

“Bye, Pip. See you tomorrow, big guy.” He barks out a goodbye and shakes for your coworker. “Good luck!”

You head to the locker room and change out of your soaked clothes to change into your normal ones. It’s always a good idea to wear some kind of scrubs here due to the shit, piss, and other fluids you get on your job. All of them come from animals. You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulder before going to the lobby. Spencer waits there patiently, scrolling on his phone to pass the time.

“Spencer, hi,” you grin.

“Y/N,” he smiles. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” You two leave the shelter and start the walk to your apartment. “How was work? Tell me about your day.”

“I can’t give too much away about the unsub we’re trying to find. It’s still an open investigation.”

“Tell me something else, then. How is the team doing?”

“JJ is pregnant again.”

“That’s awesome! Good for her!”

“Yeah, she’s happy. Tell me about your day. I want to hear everything,” he smiles.

“Well, three new dogs came in today. One of them, poor baby, was so scared. We had to give her to the guy who deals with aggressive dogs. I know she’ll be a sweetheart in no time. Two got adopted today, which is amazing. I tried giving Pip a bath, but he thought it was playtime. I think I still have soap in my hair,” you chuckle. “I had a good time.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

The walk to your apartment isn’t long, so you’re there before you know it. You stop outside the steps leading to your building and turn to Spencer.

“Thank you for walking me again.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Do you have any doubt?”

“No, I don’t,” you smile. “Goodnight, Spencer.”

Spencer waits for you to head inside your apartment building before heading to his own. The first time you met Spencer was when you were on the bus heading to work. You were late and didn't want to walk that day so you thought the bus would be faster. Spencer decided to take the same bus that morning, and the only open seat was next to him.

Due to traffic, you two were able to have a bit more time to chat. By the time you got to your work, you realized how much fun it was talking to Spencer. Luck would have it that the next day, he was taking the bus again. It turns out he took it in hopes that you would take it, and you took it in hopes that he would take it.

You don’t own a car so when he found out you were walking home every day after work, he decided that would be the day he would walk with you. He’s seen too much shit to let you walk home alone, especially after it got dark.

It’s become your routine now.

The next day when you get off work, Spencer is waiting in the lobby scrolling on his phone to pass the time. This time, he has a coffee in hand for you. It’s the end of the day, but you’ll never turn down a coffee.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you grin and take the coffee from him.

“It’s decaf so you won’t be up all night.”

“Smart,” you chuckle. “How was your day?”

“Still the same. Garcia came to me and told me she was looking to get a dog. Instead of going to the pet store, I told her about the loving dogs you have here.”

You gasp happily and grab his arm. “That’s so much better. We have such loving dogs here that are just looking for a home.”

“She’ll be by this weekend.”

“Awesome! I’ll take such good care of her.” You lean up and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for recommending me.” You stop outside your apartment building. “Give her my number, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Spencer.”

Well after you’re already in your building, Spencer is still standing outside of it. He touches the spot where you kissed his cheek, unable to ignore how tingly it made him. He smiles and heads back to his place with you on his mind the entire time.

Like Spencer said, Penelope walks into your job on Saturday morning, eager to look at what you have available.

“Are you Y/N?” she asks when you greet her.

“Yes. You must be Penelope. Spencer’s told me so much about you.”

“And he won’t shut up about you.” You blush. “Don’t look so bashful. That boy is head over heels for you.”

“No, he’s not. He’s just being nice. He’s a friend.”

“Not from where I stand,” she grins. “So, I hear you have some dogs for me to look at?”

“Yes, right this way.”

Spencer didn’t let up. He is always there when you get off work whether it’s day or night, cloudy, windy, cold, or hot. Storm season is upon Virginia, so the rain comes before you’re prepared for it. It’s so strong that you can hear the water pelt the roof of the shelter. Now is when you regret not having a car.

You grab your things and walk to the lobby, not expecting Spencer to be there. It’s pouring rain outside and he’s still waiting for you as if that’s supposed to deter him. He smiles widely when he sees you, and he holds up the closed umbrella.

“Is that going to fit both of us?”

“I’ll make it work.”

You two don’t talk much on the way home because all you’re focused on it trying to keep the rain off you. Spencer keeps the umbrella mostly on you so he’s drenched by the time you reach your apartment.

“I don’t want you catching a cold. Come inside, please. Wait until the rain stops.”

“I’m okay. My apartment isn’t far from here.”

You reach out and grab his elbow. “Come on. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Spencer has never seen the inside of your place since meeting you, so he’s kind of nervous for himself. He’s not very good when it comes to romance or women. In fact, he’s quite awkward at it. He doesn’t expect anything from you except maybe a towel to dry off, but you have other plans for him.

“Wait right here,” you say before disappearing into your bedroom. You return with a shirt and sweats. “These were my brothers. Change out of your clothes. I’ll wash them.”

“Um…”

“What? The bathroom is next to my bedroom. You’re going to catch a cold. You do so much for me. Let me do this for you.”

“Okay,” he nods.

He takes the clothes and heads to the bathroom. He leaves ten minutes later with his wet clothes in hand. You, having changed when he was, take both yours and his clothes to the washer. After putting a light load on, you join Spencer in the living room.

“Would you like something to drink? I have wine if you want to share it with me.”

Alcohol is bad. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s taking advantage of you, but he’s also not objecting to it. He’d never do anything that makes you uncomfortable. One glass wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“Sure. One glass won’t hurt.”

You open a brand new bottle of wine and pour two glasses, bringing them to him in the living room. The storm outside doesn't look like it’s getting any better. It might go on all night. It’s a good thing you have a guest room. You turn the lamp on, giving a dim glow around you two. It’s all very romantic.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home every day, right?”

Spencer shrugs and takes a small sip of wine. “I want to.”

“Why?”

Whether Spencer notices or not, he scoots closer to you so that his knee touches yours. “I work with murderers and bad people. I know how much can change in a matter of seconds. I don’t want anything happening to you. I might be lanky but I know how to fight.”

You rest your arm across the back of the couch, your fingers barely brushing against his shoulder. “You’re not lanky. You’re pretty.”

He laughs. “Thank you. You’re pretty, too.” He sets his glass of wine on the coffee table and seemingly sits closer to you. You pretend not to notice but you do. “Plus, the idea of something happening to you drives me crazy. The thought of not hearing about your day drives me crazy. The idea of someone else walking you home drives me crazy.”

“What?” you whisper.

Spencer looks at your lips which look so kissable in the dim lighting. They always look kissable but he has the courage now. Maybe it was the one sip of wine had or maybe he’s done pretending like there isn’t something between you two.

“I’m gonna kiss you now to show you just how crazy you drive me.”

He leans in closer but you don’t move an inch. You could stop him but you’ve been thinking about kissing him since you two met. His lips touch yours, a test kiss. A soft and tender kiss to test the waters. When you show no sign of rejecting him, he slides his hand in your hair and presses his lips harder against yours.

You open your mouth to him and he slides his tongue in. For someone who is awkward with romance, he sure does know how to kiss. Even after the rain stops and his clothes are dried, he doesn't leave. In fact, he doesn’t leave until the very next morning.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[purplesimmer455]

It’s Bunny Day in Mt. Komorebi, and the kids are excited. They hunt for eggs once they’ve finished their homework while Riley makes a ham dinner. They hum cheerfully as they put the pan into the pre-heated oven, and Stephanie walks over to them. “Hey Ri, that ham smells good already.” She says and Riley grins. “Thanks baby, I’m trying out this new recipe I saw on Simtok. It says to use herbs and such to add flavor and I’m hoping the kids will like it.” They say as they turn the temperature a bit lower. “They will, they love your cooking. And I love anything you make but especially the Okonomiyaki you made for our second date.” She says, and Riley’s eyes soften. “I remember that, just the two of us in my small apartment kitchen and how we joked about some random tv shows and movies.” They say, and Stephanie nods. “Me too, I especially remember how you woohooed me on your counter a while after that,” she says casually and Riley blushes before winking at her. “Well, I had to have my dinner and dessert.” They say, and Stephanie blushes this time.

The kids rush inside, and Stephanie switches subjects. “So, I’ve booked our flight to Tomarang for next Saturday, we just have to make sure the kids pack before then.” She says and Riley nods. “Okay, I’ll help Ru pack his toys and clothes the day before and you help Nancy.” They say, and Stephanie nods before grinning. “I’m excited to see Tomarang, and to visit Sophie.” She says and Riley hums in agreement. “Me too, I can’t wait to see my baby sis and try out all the amazing Tomarani food. We’ll have to go to the night market with the kids, I want them to experience that with us, and visit the tiger sanctuary for sure.” They say. “Yeah, plus I want to spend some time, just the two of us. I talked to Sophie and she said she’ll watch the kids for one night at her place. They can have a fun sleepover at auntie’s place while you and I have our own fun in the rental.” Stephanie adds in a flirtatious tone, and Riley grins. “Oh okay, I’ll look forward to that too,” they say in the same tone.

Stephanie gets called over by Haruo, and she kisses Riley’s cheek before heading over to see what he needs. Riley lets the ham cook, and they head to the computer to look up Tomarani locations they’d want to see on a visit. They’re joined by Nancy, who grins before asking. “Ren, can I ask Alex out when I’m 14 next year?” Riley nods, feeling that same wistful pang that their daughter is growing up. “Sure nooboo, but can mom and I meet them first?” They ask. “Okay, but you’ll like them a lot. They’re cool and creative and funny and cute,” she rambles before blushing as Riley gives her a teasing look. “Anyway, I’ll invite Alex over soon and introduce them to you and mom, just be cool okay?” Nancy says. “Don’t worry Nan, I’m cool as heck.” Riley assures her and Nancy snorts. “Rennnn,” She grumbles good naturedly but she laughs too.

[checkereddreams]

Back on my nonsense…a little preview of what I’m doing in the background.

[coochellati]

Carnal Inhibitions

18+ ONLY

Pairing: Bruno Bucciarati x gender-neutral reader

Summary: Bruno takes on a submissive role, granting you total control over him.

Genre: Kinky-ass Smut

Content: Inappropriate use of stands, Bruno Bucciarati is a messy sub, overstimulating, edging, aftercare.

Word Count: 1,042

{Read on AO3!}

Drenched in sweat, the imperturbable underboss of Passione trembles under your touch, gasping as if he were fighting for his life. Eyes scrunched shut beneath furrowed brows, he reflexively attempts to cover his gaping mouth with his hand, but it's no use--the rope binding his wrist prevents him from reaching that far. His meticulously styled bangs now cling to his forehead in soaked clumps, the flashy gold clips holding his braid in place gradually sliding out of his hair.

Bruno Bucciarati is a fucking mess.

"Cazzo, m-merda--" he stammers, shooting you a frantic stare before throwing his head backward, letting out a filthy, guttural moan as his body abruptly jolts forward. "Please just let me--"

A frustrated groan escapes him as you suddenly release him and his stand from your grasp. He scrunches his eyes once more as he struggles against the ropes tethering him to his bed, but quickly resigns himself to his fate—he isn't going anywhere. He shoots you a distressed stare.

"I can't--I don't--I don't know how much more of this I can--" he desperately stutters, choking on his breath.

"What, can't handle a bit of pleasure?" you tease, a smirk plastered across your face.

"A bit of pleasure?" His voice shakes. "That's what you call it? This is torture! Ah--!" Bruno lets out a distraught whine as you begin caressing him with your thumbs, one for each tip. He's hot to the touch, cock flushed a deep shade of red.

"Oh, come on--you're a mafioso, you can handle it. Besides, I know you're enjoying this. If you weren't, you would have unsummoned Sticky Fingers by now," you smugly retort. He sharply inhales through gritted teeth as you resume your movements on him and his stand. 

"Too much, this is too much—" he whines, as the phantom sensations and tangible pleasure mix together, creating an unbearable amount of stimulation. You anticipate him to follow up with the safe word the two of you had chosen, but he doesn't, validating your previous claim.

Heartbeat pounding in his face, Bruno tenses, once again approaching climax. "Please--p-please let me cum," he begs, voice strained with hysteria. You can tell he's close--with an evil smile, you abruptly stop all movements, swiftly withdrawing your hands from him.

'Ah--Cazzo!' he cries out, releasing a prolonged, pained groan. With wide eyes, he stares at the ceiling, his lip trembling. He shuts his eyes, and the floodgates open—tears stream down his face, his thick, dark eyelashes clumping together. Each breath he takes is shaky, accompanied by soft sniffles. "I—I can't," he manages between gasps for air, his voice barely audible. "P-please, I can't..." The rest of his words dissolve into unintelligible jibberish.

You chuckle lowly, wiping away his tears. "I don't think I've ever seen you cry like this." Drawing your face close to his, you gently brush back his sodden bangs as he continues to weep. Finally, you give him a tender kiss on the forehead. "Alright—you've been good. I'll let you come." 

"T-thank you," Bruno chokes out, gulping as you continue massaging him and his stand with slow, deliberate strokes. With his mouth hanging agape, he emits a constrained gasp, his face intensely contorted in agonizing pleasure. His heart feels as if it's about to give out; a string of Italian expletives disjointedly spills from his mouth as he forcefully presses the back of his head into the mattress, body stiffening. 

"I'm going to--" his words are abruptly cut off by a sharp gasp, eyes widening as he tumbles over the threshold, vision fading to black as ecstasy engulfs his body. A loud, shameless groan fills the room, and his consciousness explodes into a flaming blast, body violently jerking as his senses become consumed by intense, rippling shockwaves. Pulsing in your hand, he releases, spilling out onto himself and the bedsheets surrounding him. 

With one final moan, he crumbles apart, his body going limp. Still in shock, he pants heavily, eyes quickly darting around the room in an attempt to make sense of his surroundings.

"Merda," he chuckles, still out of breath. A smile forms on his face. "That was intense."

"And you handled it so well," you warmly praise and begin stroking his hair, unfazed by its warm dampness. He lets out a content sigh as he sinks into the bed, body melting at your touch. The two of you sit still for a few seconds, savoring the moment before you reach for the baby wipes you had set on the nightstand in preparation for the events that had just occurred. "Here, let me clean you." He watches as you wipe away the mess on his torso, your touch delicate. 

Once finished, you cradle his jawline, eliciting a soft smile from Bruno. His deep, half-lidded eyes lock onto yours as you lean in close, noses touching. "I love you, Bruno."

"I love you, too," he whispers gently, releasing a singular, happy chuckle before pressing his warm lips against yours. A blissful haze descends, clouding your senses as the faint light from the flickering candle on the nightstand casts elongated shadows of both of you on the wall opposite. Everything around you is still, quiet, and calm.

Gently pulling away, Bruno lightly tugs at the ropes. "Care to untie me?"

"Oh—right, of course," you say, slightly flustered. He patiently waits as you release each limb.

Finally free, he sits up and rolls his wrists around, closing his eyes as he lets out a long exhale of relief. With one hand, he pushes back his hair and turns his head towards you, silently mouthing, "Thank you." You nod in acknowledgment and flop onto the bed, resting on your back.

"Oh, fuck," you mutter, realizing you hadn't checked where you decided to lie down. "We're going to have to wash the bedding."

He smiles in amusement, leaning over you. "Yeah, but not yet."

"Huh? Aren't we going to sleep somewhat soon...?--OH!" Surprise flashes across your face as Bruno suddenly pins you down. The sound of a zipper tickles your ears as you become securely fastened to the bed.

With a smirk on his face, he looks down at you. "What? You think you're off the hook?" He chuckles softly, shaking his head. His eyes narrow. "Your turn."

[antihcroes]

okay some fc suggestion questions, does anyone have any fcs that are blonde & have the vibes of s.tar butterfly from s.tar vs the forces of evil - someone who’d fit well for her (but i’m not writing star, i’m writing an oc semi based off her & her personality & such)

and i also am looking for fc suggestions for rapunzel. preferably someone who fits a younger aged version of her & such. like post-movie, the series, age. if you know i’ve previously used candice king for her but … i want to get more into writing punz at a younger age & like her ‘main’ age as i was mostly writing her older/descendants age before. & even if candice did play a teen for like 8 years … girly is 36 & yeah -

so yeah any fc suggestions for these two would be much appreciated!!!

[brunchable]

𝙄 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

Part Two Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Heavy Mutual Pinining, Heavy Sexual Tension, Longing, Yearning, Right Person-Wrong Time. Friends to Lovers, a bit Angsty but Happy Ending. SMUT: Touch Hungry Bucky, Kiss Hungry Bucky, Bucky being obsessed with tiddies, unprotected piv, creampie. Summary: Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because he’s in love. He’s madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows he’ll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled you in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt. A/N: This is a Two Shot, so another one will be coming soon.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @classicrebound

The first time it really hits is when you see him with her.

It’s a crowded room, warm bodies pressed close together, the low hum of music barely louder than the thudding in your chest as you watch Bucky Barnes wrap his arm around the waist of a woman you don’t know. 

She’s beautiful, of course—someone you'd expect to be by his side. Her laugh is soft, melting into his as he leans in close, whispering something that lights her face up, his lips brushing her ear like he can’t help himself.

You glance down at your drink, the sudden bitterness pooling in your throat harder to swallow than the wine. You tell yourself to look away, that it’s none of your business who he holds, but you can’t. Every time you look up, he’s there, still wrapped around her, laughing at something she’s said, his hand resting on her back in a way that feels too familiar, too tender. You know that look—the way his fingers splay protectively, pulling her close like she belongs to him. Like he’s finally let someone in.

It’s torture, standing there with a smile plastered on your face, pretending not to notice. Pretending that it doesn’t crush you.

Because when you’re alone—when you’re single—he’s taken. And when he’s got nobody, you do. Every single time. You’ve gotten used to seeing him across rooms, with someone else in his arms, with that look in his eyes that you wish, desperately, could be meant for you.

And he’s always looking at you that same way, that glance just a second too long, that warmth held back by a fragile thread of restraint. Just enough to keep the lines from blurring.

Tonight, he finally looks away.

When he glances up, catches sight of you, his smile falters. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, and something soft flickers in his eyes—something like regret, the same regret you carry. But her hand tightens on his arm, and he turns back to her, his smile returning, wider than before. You hate how easily he can pull away from you, how quickly he can make you feel invisible.

“Hey, Bucky,” you manage, your voice steady though it feels like your chest is caving in.

He looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Hey.” His gaze drops, and for a second, you think he might actually say something, that he might admit that this hurts him too. But then she shifts closer, and he wraps his arm around her more firmly, giving you a look that’s both a dare and a dismissal.

“This is Emily,” he says, and she gives you a polite, too-sweet smile.

“Oh.” You swallow, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “I didn’t know… I hadn’t realized you were…” You can’t finish, the words catching in your throat.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s tone is almost too casual, too final. “We’re together.”

The finality of it slices through you, sharp and clean. You nod, trying to hold onto whatever scraps of dignity you have left, but all you can manage is, “Well… congratulations. I’m… I’m glad you’re happy.”

There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes—anger? Hurt? But his jaw tightens, and he nods, looking away as if to spare you. 

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” he says, his voice steady, controlled.

Emily pulls him closer, a satisfied smile curving her lips as she glances at you. 

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” she says, and there’s a challenge in her tone, a silent declaration that she’s won, that whatever you think you had with him is nothing compared to this. She presses a kiss to his cheek, her fingers curling possessively around his shoulder as she tilts her head, catching his gaze.

“Yeah,” you murmur, your voice hollow. “Yeah, he is.”

And for a brief, desperate second, you think he might look at you—really look at you, see how much this is tearing you apart. But he doesn’t. His gaze is on her, soft and full of warmth, a look he’s given you a thousand times. And it feels like he’s choosing her, like he’s making the decision to let go of whatever fragile orbit kept you two circling each other all this time.

You turn away, trying to hold yourself together, but the ache in your chest is all-consuming, a raw, relentless reminder that he’s moved on. That he’s chosen her.

And as you walk away, you can still hear their laughter, the sound twisting like a knife in your chest, leaving you wondering if he was ever yours to lose.

And then one night, fate flips, and you’re the one with someone new by your side.

It’s been months since you last saw Bucky. You assumed he was out of your life for good, until tonight, when you walk into the cozy warmth of a private dining room in a restaurant, your hand firmly held by your boyfriend Andrew. It’s Steve’s dinner party, a small gathering of friends, and the lighthearted chatter fills the air, mixing with the warm glow from the dimmed overhead lights.

You’re laughing at something your boyfriend said as you step into the room, but your laughter dies in your throat when you see him.

Bucky is seated across the table, leaning back casually in his chair, but the moment his eyes meet yours, a spark flickers there—surprise, mingled with something darker, something that quickens your pulse. You hadn’t expected him to be here tonight, and judging by the way his gaze lingers, he hadn’t expected you either.

Steve stands, grinning as he greets you and Andrew, and you introduce him to everyone. You smile, trying to seem natural as you move around the table, your hand still resting in your boyfriend’s. But it feels wrong, the warmth of your boyfriend’s fingers against yours suddenly strange, like it doesn’t quite belong.

When you reach Bucky, he stands, his jaw tense, his eyes unwavering as he offers a hand to shake. You almost expect him to make some dry remark, to cover up whatever unspoken tension lies between you. But he’s silent as he grips Andrew’s hand firmly, while looking at you. His fingers are steady, a touch too tight, like he’s barely holding something back.

“So, you’re the boyfriend,” Bucky says, his voice calm but laced with something you can’t quite place.

Your boyfriend laughs, unaware of the tension. “Yeah, I am. And you’re the famous Bucky I keep hearing about.”

Bucky’s lips twitch into a half-smile, but his eyes remain cold. 

“I’m sure you have.” He releases your boyfriend’s hand, his gaze shifting back to you, lingering a second too long before he forces himself to look away.

It should feel like a victory—that, for once, you’re the one who’s found happiness while he’s left to watch. But the second you meet his eyes, the air shifts. You feel the weight of everything unspoken, of the years that have passed with both of you just out of reach, orbiting each other but never colliding.

You take your seat next to your boyfriend, aware of every brush of his arm against yours, every gentle squeeze of his hand on your knee under the table. He leans close, murmuring something soft and sweet, and you offer a small smile, but your focus is entirely on Bucky, sitting across the table, his gaze flickering between you and Andrew, his jaw set with that same restrained tension.

As the night wears on, Bucky remains quiet, only contributing here and there to the conversation, but each time he speaks, his words feel weighted, almost directed at you.

“So,” he says, finally breaking the silence, his voice cutting through the chatter, “I’m guessing you’re happy?”

The question is simple enough, but there’s a challenge hidden beneath it, a question he doesn’t ask outright.

“Yes, I am,” you say, your voice firmer than you feel, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

Your boyfriend glances over, squeezing your hand, unaware of the undercurrents in the room. 

“She’s stuck with me now,” he jokes, nudging you. “No escape.”

You laugh softly, but the sound feels hollow, especially when you catch Bucky’s expression—something dark and raw flashing in his eyes before he schools his features again.

“Good for you both,” Bucky replies, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. “It’s about time.”

There’s a pause, the kind that seems to echo louder than any conversation, and you can feel Bucky’s gaze burning into you, filled with a thousand things he can’t say. Your chest tightens as the weight of everything unsaid settles heavily between you, filling the air with a tension you’re certain everyone can feel.

As people start to leave, you find yourself alone with Bucky by the door. Your boyfriend is across the room, saying goodbyes, and it’s just you and Bucky in the dimly lit entryway, a fragile bubble of space and time.

“So…” His voice is low, almost too soft, his eyes searching yours. “This is it, then?”

There’s a vulnerability in his words that pierces through you, a rawness you’ve never heard before. It’s as if he’s waiting for you to deny it.

You glance away, your voice barely a whisper. “Yep. This is it.”

A shadow crosses his face, and he just stands there, watching you, his gaze heavy. He doesn’t say anything for awhile, his hand lingering just inches from yours, as though he’s contemplating reaching out, breaking whatever boundary lies between you. The air feels thick, and you wonder if he can hear the frantic beat of your heart.

But he lets his hand fall back to his side. 

“Guess there’s nothing left to say,” he murmurs, a bitter edge coloring his voice. His eyes linger on you, as if he’s memorizing every detail, every second of this final, silent goodbye.

You open your mouth, but the words die on your lips, caught between everything you want to say and everything you can’t. You reach out, almost instinctively, but Andrew calls your name from across the room, his voice shattering the fragile stillness.

Bucky’s gaze flickers, and he takes a step back, his expression falling into something guarded. 

“Take care, doll,” he says softly, the words laced with both a goodbye and a promise. His eyes linger on you one last time, and then he’s gone, slipping out into the night.

He’d spent years replacing your lips with so many others, all in an attempt to forget the mark you left on him.

Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because he’s in love. He’s madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows he’ll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled her in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt.

× × × × 

Present

It’s one of those nights, another dinner gathering among friends, the kind that’s almost become routine. You’re already seated in the cozy living room, surrounded by the familiar warmth of Steve’s place. The soft glow of lamps and low bable of conversation wrap around you like a comfortable blanket, and for the first time in a long time, you’re truly at ease.

Beside you, Sam nudges your shoulder. 

“Hey Boo,” he says, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, “remember when you and Bucky were practically attached at the hip? What happened there?”

The question catches you off guard, and you feel warmth creeping up your neck as a few heads turn, curious eyes glancing your way. You roll your eyes, nudging him back. 

“Leave it to you to bring that up, Sam.”

He chuckles, unrelenting. “C’mon, just saying. You two were tight. I mean, tight.”

You let out a small, nervous laugh, feeling the weight of a few more gazes on you, even if they aren’t pushing the question. 

“It’s… complicated,” you finally say, giving him a look that tells him to drop it. But Sam just chuckles, clearly amused, like he knows something no one else does.

“Complicated.” He echoes with a slow nod, a knowing grin spreading. “Right. Complicated.”

“You’re so annoying,” you mutter, barely suppressing a smile, but you can’t deny the fondness in your tone. Sam just winks, nudging you again, and the others quickly move on, the brief moment of attention fading as conversation flows around you.

And that’s when the front door opens, and you hear his voice.

“Sorry I’m late,” Bucky calls out, his deep voice filling the space effortlessly as he steps in, slightly flushed from the cold outside. His eyes scan the room, and the moment they land on you, you swear the air shifts, that it crackles with something electric, something only the two of you seem to feel.

Your heart stumbles over itself as he walks further into the room, tugging off his jacket and offering smiles and nods to everyone. But it’s like a magnetic pull—his eyes keep flickering back to you, and each time it does, your stomach does a nervous, excited flip.

He looks good. Better than good, really. There’s a slight scruff along his jaw, and his hair falls just so, framing his face in a way that makes you want to reach out and touch it. When he finally reaches the empty chair directly across from you, he stops, fingers lingering on the back of it.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asks, his voice low, and there’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, like he’s waiting for permission to be close to you.

You shake your head, trying to keep your cool, even though every part of you is screaming, yes, sit, sit right here and don’t you dare move.

“No, go ahead,” you reply, hoping your voice sounds steady.

He sits, close enough that you could reach out and touch him if you wanted, and the faint scent of his cologne drifts over, warm and familiar, making your head spin.

As he settles in, he leans slightly closer, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Long time no see.”

“Feels that way, doesn’t it?” you murmur, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. Every subtle movement, every small smile he throws your way feels like it’s weaving a thread around you both, pulling you in.

The conversation around you resumes, but it’s like you’re in a bubble, the two of you orbiting each other again. Every so often, his knee brushes yours under the table, just enough to send a shiver up your spine, to make you bite back a smile. His hand rests on the table between you, his fingers drumming absently, and you find yourself staring at them, remembering every time those hands had nearly, almost touched yours.

After a lull in conversation, he clears his throat, glancing at you sideways. 

“So… where’s the boyfriend?” he asks, almost casually, but you catch the underlying question. His tone is light, but his eyes are cautious, searching yours, looking for an answer he can’t ask outright.

You raise a brow, unable to hide the grin pulling at your lips. 

“Well,” you say, tilting your head slightly as you meet his gaze, “the lack of presence should answer your question.”

For a second, Bucky just stares, and then a slow, dawning smile spreads across his face, his whole expression softening, the guardedness falling away. He looks like he’s holding back from saying something, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table, his knee pressing just a little more against yours as he leans in.

And before you can think twice, you match his question with your own, barely above a whisper. “And where’s your girlfriend, Bucky?”

“Nonexistent.” he said almost instantly.

His eyes hold yours, and something subtle shifts in them—a hint of a smile playing at his lips, but he doesn’t look away though he plays it off with a small, casual shrug. “Guess I’ve been waiting for the right person.”

You nod, feeling the smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. 

“Nice,” you say, trying to keep it casual, though your heart’s picking up a pace of its own.

“Yeah… nice.” He lets out a quiet chuckle, raising an eyebrow as if he’s catching onto your attempt at nonchalance. 

Deafening silence settles between you, but it’s charged, a silent exchange that makes you feel more breathless than words ever could. Neither of you seems to move, his knee still brushing yours under the table, and it feels like he’s lingering in your space, right on that line between friend and something more. 

You glance around, feeling the tension rise, and blow your bangs out of your eyes, hoping it might ease the knot in your stomach. But when you sneak a look at him, he’s still staring, his gaze solid, unblinking, and suddenly you’re hyper aware of every tiny shift in the air between you. Your cheeks warm, and you look away quickly, pressing your lips together, but it only makes your heart pound harder.

Your cheeks warm instantly, and you quickly look away, focusing hard on the table.

A small smile tugs at his lips, his voice soft. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Your pulse quickens, and you swallow, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. 

“Maybe a little,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

A spark lights in his eyes, and his smile widens, soft but undeniably mischievous. 

“Good,” he murmurs, his knee pressing just a fraction closer to yours, enough to send a thrill up your spine. “Because, for the record… you make me a little nervous too.”

Your heart does a flip, and you feel a grin tug at your lips despite yourself. 

“I make you nervous?” You try to keep the surprise out of your voice, but he just nods, his gaze intense, that teasing warmth settling over his expression.

“Yeah, you do,” he says, his tone light but honest, like he’s been waiting to say it. “Especially when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you ask, barely breathing.

“Like you’re about to bolt… but part of you doesn’t want to.” His voice is low, and his eyes search yours, as if he’s daring you to deny it.

You feel the smile you’ve been holding back break through, your heart racing as the last of the distance between you seems to dissolve. Just as you’re about to respond, a voice calls from the dining room, breaking the tension as everyone calls you both to join.

“Guess we should go, huh?” Bucky lets out a soft chuckle, pulling back just slightly, though his gaze lingers on yours for a heartbeat longer. 

“Yeah,” you manage, feeling a little breathless.

But as you both stand and head to the dining room, his hand brushes yours, just enough for his pinky to link with yours for a brief, secret moment. The warmth of that tiny touch lingers, and you can’t help but feel like something just shifted between you, something new and thrilling, waiting just under the surface.

× × × ×

As you both step into the dining room, Sam raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “There they are,” he teases, his voice just loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. “We were wondering what’s taking so long.”

Heat creeps up your cheeks, and you catch Bucky’s gaze, a subtle, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t say anything, slipping into the room to find only two empty seats—right beside each other.

Bucky gestures to the chair beside him, waiting until you sit before settling in next to you. He settles in beside you, his broad shoulders and steady presence enveloping the space, making you feel smaller.

Conversations swirl around the table, but you’re painfully aware of every tiny shift Bucky makes. The subtle brush of his arm against yours, the steady warmth radiating from his shoulder—it all has your heart racing. His hand rests on the table beside yours, fingers drumming lightly, and your pulse hammers as his knee presses just slightly against yours under the table, a connection so subtle yet electric that it makes your skin tingle.

Then he adjusts his position, angling himself more toward the group—and you. The small movement brings him even closer, and you’re immediately enveloped in his scent, something warm and cedar-like, filling the air around you until it feels almost overwhelming, in the best possible way. You take a slow breath, fighting the urge to close the distance even more, feeling trapped between wanting to be near him and feeling breathless because of it.

As Bucky joins the conversation, you find yourself watching him, captivated by the way he leans in, his voice low and steady, his easy confidence only pulling you in deeper. His lips curve as he speaks, and you can’t help but linger on every detail, the way his eyes light up, the rough timbre of his laugh, every tiny thing about him that’s impossibly distracting.

And then, in the middle of a sentence, his eyes flick back to you, catching you looking. You quickly look away, feeling your cheeks burn as you fixate on your plate, hoping he didn’t notice the way you’d been studying him.

But out of the corner of your eye, you catch the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. His pinky grazes yours again, a gentle, teasing touch, sending a thrill up your spine as he continues his conversation, his presence unmistakable and impossible to ignore.

You try to focus on anything else, but his gaze keeps finding you, even when you’re not looking. And with every shared glance, every quiet brush of his fingers, the air grows thicker, charged with something unspoken, as if each tiny touch is daring you to lean in, to close that final distance.

You’re doing everything you can to keep your composure, to focus on the laughter and stories being shared. But Bucky’s presence beside you is inescapable, it’s a thrill that’s leaving you silent, lost in your own thoughts as the night goes on.

Sam’s voice suddenly cuts through, pulling you back to reality. 

“Hey,” he says, smirking as he leans back in his chair, his gaze playful but sharp. “You’re unusually quiet tonight. What’s going on with you?”

Feeling everyone’s eyes on you, you force a small laugh, trying to brush off the tension simmering under your skin. 

“Just… food coma, I guess,” you say, waving a hand and attempting a casual smile. 

Sam raises an eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Food coma? Really?” He drags out the words, as if he’s not buying it for a second, and you can see the teasing glint in his eyes. “Pasta’s got you this speechless?”

Beside you, Bucky’s lips twitch, and you can feel his gaze, that familiar, subtle amusement making it impossible not to blush. You risk a quick glance at him, only to find him looking back with that same knowing smirk, like he can see right through every excuse.

“Maybe she’s just tired of all your talking, Sam,” Bucky says smoothly, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he speaks. The movement is so casual, so effortless, that it almost seems like an afterthought. But the warmth of his arm behind you, his fingers just brushing the curve of your shoulder, makes your heart race in ways you can’t ignore. His tone stays casual, but there’s a hint of laughter in his eyes as he looks at Sam, his thumb grazing your shoulder in a subtle, grounding touch.

Sam raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning. “Alright, alright. Just thought I’d check,” he says, throwing a playful wink in your direction.

You feel yourself sink back just slightly, leaning into the warmth of his arm, and it’s impossible to ignore the way his fingers stay near your shoulder, steady and unassuming but unmistakably there. The conversations resume around you, but the space between you and Bucky feels even smaller, the quiet thrill of his touch pulling you in.

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping so only you can hear. 

“That food coma excuse was almost convincing,” he murmurs, his eyes glinting with playful challenge as he watches your reaction.

× × × ×

As the night winds down, people start to gather their things, saying their goodbyes. You slip on your coat, waiting for Sam to finish up his goodbyes, but he suddenly turns to Steve with a grin.

“Hey, Rogers,” Sam says, clapping Steve on the shoulder. “How about we hit that bar down the street? Just a quick nightcap.”

You raise an eyebrow, deadpanning as you fold your arms. “Seriously, Sam?”

He flashes you an unapologetic grin, shrugging. “What? You’re always saying you’re an independent woman. I figured a little alone time wouldn’t hurt.”

“Unbelievable.” You shake your head, muttering, “You’re an asshole.”

Sam just laughs, looking over his shoulder. 

“Hey, maybe Bucky can give you a lift. It’ll be like old times.” He gives you a wink, completely ignoring the way your cheeks warm.

You glance at Bucky, trying to keep your expression neutral. “It’s fine, really,” you say quickly. “I’ll just grab an Uber.”

“Suit yourself,” Sam says, grabbing his jacket and heading out with Steve. “But you know Bucky’s free.” He gives you one last smirk before slipping out the door, leaving you standing there with Bucky, who’s leaning casually against the wall, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Need a ride?” he asks, his voice warm, that familiar glint in his eyes that makes your stomach flutter.

You open your mouth to decline, still feeling a bit of resistance. “It’s fine. Really. I’ll just grab an Uber.”

Bucky chuckles softly, tilting his head toward the door. “I’ll drop you off. It’s fine.”

You hold his gaze for a few seconds, trying to gauge his sincerity, but there’s that familiar steadiness in his eyes, a quiet patience that leaves you with no real reason to argue. Finally, you sigh, giving in with a reluctant nod.

The car ride starts in silence, the engine’s low hum filling the tense quiet between you, only occasionally interrupted by the soft rattle of snowflakes pelting against the windows as the blizzard starts to gather strength. 

You shift in your seat, fidgeting, your hands smoothing over your coat, your fingers picking at invisible lint. Nothing feels comfortable. Every second, your eyes flick to the window, tracing the passing streetlights, trying to focus on anything but him.

But you can feel him there. The warmth of him beside you, the steady, calm presence that somehow has you on edge, unable to breathe fully. His familiar scent fills the car—a mix of cedar and something undeniably him—sharp and soothing all at once, making the small space feel even smaller.

You cross your arms, uncross them, uncross your legs, then cross them again, pressing your back firmly into the seat as if that might stop the quick, relentless beat of your heart. But each turn he makes, each slight shift of his shoulders, sends a fresh rush of awareness through you, and your mind is racing, trying to keep pace with the pulsing tension that seems to settle between you like a third presence.

Finally, desperate for a distraction, you reach over and flip on the radio, hoping for anything to ease the silence. But the first song is almost too on the nose, the lyrics hitting like they were made for this moment:

"All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you…”

A breath catches in your throat, and before the verse can continue, you reach over and quickly press the button again, changing the station, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

The next station crackles to life, and it’s somehow worse.

“Cause when I got somebody, you don’t and when you got somebody, I don’t. I wish that the time would line up so we could just give in…”

Your pulse races, and you switch stations again, more urgently this time, and the next song fills the car with a familiar pop beat.

“You ain’t my boyfriend and I ain’t your girlfriend. But you don’t want me to see nobody else and I don’t want you to see nobody…”

You press the power button, cutting off the music entirely, and the silence that follows feels heavier than before. Your fingers tighten around the edge of your coat, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him glancing your way, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Bucky clears his throat, his voice a low murmur. “Trouble finding a station?”

You manage a quick, nervous laugh, eyes fixed on the road ahead. 

“Yeah… something like that.”

He just nods, his gaze returning to the road, but you catch the lingering smile in his expression, like he’s perfectly aware of the tension simmering between you, the unspoken things filling the silence.

And as the quiet stretches, you can hear his breathing, steady and unhurried, and it only makes you more aware of your own. You try to breathe normally, in and out, but each breath feels too loud, too obvious, like you’re trying and failing to hide something you both already know.

× × × × 

Bucky pulls up in your driveway, and for a moment, the relief you thought you’d feel at reaching home is overshadowed by something else—something closer to disappointment. The quiet tension that’s been hanging between you feels almost unfinished, and you find yourself wishing the ride could somehow stretch on just a little longer.

He leaves the engine idling, the faint rumble filling the silence as you both sit there, neither moving to get out. After a few seconds, you clear your throat, glancing over at him with a small, reluctant smile.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, voice softer than you intended.

Bucky nods, returning your smile, but you can see a similar reluctance flicker across his face as he glances toward the house. 

“Anytime,” he murmurs.

Your eyes drift to the porch, and you remember the old habit the two of you shared, back when he’d drop by after a night out with everyone—those late nights with coffee and the dessert your mom always made, the one he loved and never turned down.

The memory brings a small smile to your lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you look back at him. 

“Actually… my mom made her chocolate tart. The one you like. If you’re up for coffee and dessert, that is,” you say, feeling a twinge of nerves despite the casual invitation.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard, but you catch the hint of warmth in his eyes. 

“Chocolate tart, huh?” he echoes, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You know I can’t say no to that.”

You shrug, playing it off, but your heart races as you nod toward the door. 

“Figured it’d be a shame to let it go to waste. Besides,” you add, trying to keep your tone light, “it’s been a while since we did coffee and dessert.”

Bucky’s smile widens, and he cuts the engine, pocketing his keys before glancing at you with that familiar spark in his eyes. 

“Guess it’s tradition,” he says, opening his door. “Wouldn’t want to break it.”

You step out, leading him up the walkway, and as you unlock the door, the feeling of anticipation settles back over you, even stronger now. It’s like the tension from the car ride has followed you inside. 

As you head into the kitchen, Bucky follows, his gaze drifting over the familiar space. He takes in the room, noticing what’s changed and what’s stayed the same. The same cozy lamp in the corner, casting a warm glow over the soft cushions on the couch, the same framed photos on the wall—but a few new things catch his attention.

A navy-blue jacket, draped over the armchair, too large to be yours. A set of keys on the counter with a small metal keychain that he doesn’t recognize. And a book on the coffee table, a spy thriller with a bookmark halfway through. He frowns slightly, his mind racing as he takes in these small, unfamiliar details, each one lighting a spark of jealousy that flares bright, unbidden.

He hadn’t asked about Andrew—hadn’t wanted to. But now, surrounded by small traces of him, the thought of someone else being part of this space, of sharing moments with you that once might have been his, digs into him with an unexpected force. The sight of it sparks something sharp and unbidden within him, jealousy flaring up like a match struck in the dark. He swallows, trying to ignore it, trying to remind himself that he has no right to feel this way, but the thought of Andrew’s things still lingering here sends his mind racing.

In the kitchen, you’re busy slicing the chocolate tart, setting two plates with practiced ease as you fill the silence with the familiar rhythm of preparing coffee. But every now and then, you feel his gaze on you, heavy and searching, like he’s taking in every detail of the room and of you.

Bucky clears his throat softly, his voice low as he leans against the doorway, watching you pour the coffee. “Things… feel different here,” he says, trying to keep his tone casual, but there’s a roughness in his voice that betrays him.

Your eyes follow his gaze to the jacket, and a flicker of understanding crosses your face. You give a small, almost sheepish laugh. 

“Oh, that. He left it here ages ago. I keep meaning to get rid of it, but it’s… just kind of stayed.” You shrug, looking away as if embarrassed by the attachment. “Guess I’m just lazy.”

He nods, the answer somehow not as satisfying as he’d hoped. His gaze shifts back to the room, trying to reconcile this familiar space with the small hints of someone else. 

“Ah,” he says, his tone lighter. “I get it. Hard to let go of things sometimes.”

You nod, a knowing look in your eyes, as if you both understand the layers beneath his words. You hand him his plate, the rich scent of chocolate and coffee filling the room as he takes it, his fingers brushing yours for a brief, lingering moment.

Settling down at the table, he watches you from across the coffee cup, the quiet tension between you only growing thicker. And as he takes a bite of the chocolate tart, the flavors familiar and nostalgic, he can’t help but feel like he’s grasping at something he’s been missing for too long.

You try to focus on your coffee, but Bucky’s gaze is unwavering, fixed solely on you. He takes another slow bite of the chocolate tart, and the way his eyes soften, paired with the slight curve of his lips. It’s like he’s seeing something he missed, something he can’t look away from.

After a beat, you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, unable to take it anymore. 

“What?” you murmur, trying to keep your voice steady, but your heart’s racing too fast.

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. He just holds your gaze, eyes dark, thoughtful, and a little teasing, as if he’s enjoying watching you squirm. 

“Just… wondering why it took so long to get back here— it feels good to be here. With you.” His voice is low, quiet, but there’s a warmth behind it that makes your stomach flip.

You glance down, biting back a smile, but you can feel his gaze still on you, unrelenting, like he’s waiting for you to look back. 

“It’s just dessert, Bucky,” you murmur, trying to keep the moment light, but your cheeks betray you, a blush blooming under his attention.

“Maybe,” he replies, his tone teasing, eyes glinting. “But it’s the best damn dessert I’ve had in a long time.” He takes a slow bite of the tart, watching you with that infuriatingly soft gaze that makes it impossible to breathe.

"Christ..." you mutter under your breath, barely aware you’ve said it aloud. His gaze is so intense, it feels like he’s peeling away every defense you’ve carefully built.

“Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he murmurs, but there’s a teasing lilt in his voice, like he’s testing just how far he can push.

You let out a shaky laugh, glancing down at your coffee to avoid those piercing eyes. 

“You’re not… it’s just—” You don’t know how to finish the thought, every word slipping away under his unwavering stare.

He lets the silence hang for a beat, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk that’s equal parts infuriating and heart-stopping. Then he leans forward, just a bit closer, his eyes still locked on you, the teasing glint in them intensifying.

“You sure about that?” he murmurs, voice low and velvet-smooth. His fingers toy with the edge of his coffee cup, but his attention never wavers, every inch of him focused on you. “Because if I’m honest… I think I like watching you get flustered. Kind of makes me wonder what else I could do to make you look at me like that.”

Your breath catches, and you feel your pulse race, cheeks burning as his words sink in, every nerve suddenly buzzing. You’re caught, and he knows it, the challenge in his gaze daring you to look away—but you don’t, rooted to the spot, every nerve in your body humming.

But in that moment of stunned silence, something in your expression shifts, your eyes widening ever so slightly. It’s not discomfort, but a soft vulnerability—an openness he wasn’t expecting.

He misreads it entirely.

Bucky straightens abruptly, his face softening as he lets out a quick, self-conscious laugh, breaking eye contact. “I—sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, his smirk fading. “I’m just messing with you. Didn’t mean to… you know, make things weird.”

Your heart clenches at the quickness with which he pulls back, his retreat sudden, like he’s trying to undo the last few moments. You open your mouth, words rushing to the tip of your tongue to stop him, to explain, to tell him he hadn’t made you uncomfortable at all.

“Bucky…” you say softly, reaching out before you can think twice. The moment your fingers brush his hand, he glances up, eyes wide, almost searching yours for permission.

And before you can lose your nerve, you let the words slip, your voice barely a whisper. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable… I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

The tension between you flares back to life, sharper, deeper, as he studies you, realization dawning in his gaze, as if he’s daring himself to believe what you’re saying.

× × × × 

The blizzard outside has intensified, blanketing everything in a thick layer of snow that doesn’t look like it’ll be easing up anytime soon. By the time you both finish your coffee and dessert, the wind is howling against the windows, and the soft glow from the streetlights barely penetrates the wall of snow outside.

You walk to the window, peering out into the swirling white, and let out a small sigh. 

“Looks like it’s getting worse,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Bucky, the words carrying a quiet invitation you don’t fully realize.

Behind you, he steps closer, joining you by the window, his hand resting on the edge of the sill as he gazes out into the storm. 

“Guess I might have to wait it out,” he says, a hint of reluctance in his voice, though his eyes flicker with something warmer as they meet yours. His tone is casual, almost nonchalant, but the unspoken question lingers between you.

You turn to face him, folding your arms, trying to play it off casually. 

“Yeah, probably not the best idea to be out there in this.” You pause, giving him a small smile. “I mean, I have a couch. Wouldn’t be the first time you crashed here.”

He chuckles softly, nodding. 

“Right. Wouldn’t want to risk life and limb just to get home.” There’s a glimmer of amusement in his gaze, like he’s just as reluctant as you are to let the night end.

You manage a laugh, a quiet, slightly nervous sound as you gesture towards the living room. 

“The couch is all yours if you want it. I can grab a spare blanket.” The offer feels both genuine and like an excuse, a small plea for him to stay, if only a bit longer.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice soft, a warmth in his tone that makes your heart skip. “Appreciate it.”

As you disappear down the hall to fetch a blanket and pillow, he lingers in the living room, glancing around the familiar space. He’s barely acknowledged how much he’s missed this—missed you—and now, surrounded by small remnants of your life, it all feels heavier than he expected, like he’s on the brink of something he’s not ready to let go of.

You return with a thick blanket and a pillow, handing them to him as he sets them down on the couch. 

“Here you go. It’s not much, but… I think you’ll survive,” you say, though there’s something tentative in your voice, almost as if you’re testing the waters, hoping he’ll stay a little closer.

Bucky chuckles, sitting on the edge of the couch, his hands settling over his knees as he looks up at you. 

“Yeah, I’ve handled worse, I think,” he replies, his gaze lingering just a bit too long.

A quiet pause stretches between you, neither of you moving. Outside, the snow falls in thick, relentless waves, cocooning you both in this shared moment, and you feel the weight of what’s left unsaid, lingering like an invitation neither of you dares to speak aloud.

Finally, you clear your throat, offering a small smile. 

“Well… goodnight, Bucky,” you say, your voice softer than you intended, and you find yourself hesitating, like you’re reluctant to leave.

He nods, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer than necessary. “Goodnight, doll.”

× × × ×

Bucky was asleep on the couch. Your couch. Crashing at your place, as he had so many nights before.

The man you wanted more than you’d ever wanted anyone in your life.

You couldn't sleep, tossing and turning and thinking of him lying not thirty feet away from you on the other side of your bedroom wall. He had stayed over countless times, what was it about tonight that had you squirming beneath the sheets? 

God, the subtle, masculine scent of him, the warmth of his body so close to yours—maybe he'd actually seen the little shiver of sexual awareness that had rippled through you during dinner.

Whatever it was, you were suffering now. His smile, his voice, his deep, infectious laugh...so what if he had been your friend since, so what if he could be a bit of a doofus at times—okay, a lot of the time—so what if you were both single now and feeling that familiar itch, that longing, that uncomfortable awareness of being without someone just a bit too long.

Fuck.

You both had talked about this. Once—a long time ago. You had agreed; getting involved wasn't the right thing to do—look how many friendships were ruined by relationships.

You threw back the duvet and swung your legs over the side of the bed, wiggling your toes nervously as you bit your lip. 

You needed a drink, that's what you needed. Not that kind of drink—although God knew you weren't far from it. You needed a cool glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge and maybe some splashed on your face for good measure. 

Then you could come back to bed and read. Or listen to some music. Or... something. You had an early start in the morning, you had to find some way to get some sleep. If you were really quiet, you could slip right past him and he'd never even know you'd been out of your room.

You creaked open your bedroom door and listened for the sound of his quiet snoring. Sure enough, the soft sounds of sleep drifted towards you and you straightened, relaxing a little. 

He was sleeping just fine. He wasn't tossing and turning thinking about you.

You slipped out into the chilly living room, and shivered involuntarily. You'd set the thermostat low in the living room to save energy, completely forgetting to turn it up for his sake, so while your bedroom was toasty warm, the living room was cold and still. 

Guiltily you cast your eyes over his sleeping form, sprawled inelegantly over the couch with one hand thrown over his eyes and one leg up over the back of the sofa. He wore only a t-shirt and boxers, and lying with the blanket kicked to the floor instead to cover himself with, he looked vulnerable somehow, and uncomfortable.

And incredibly, almost achingly sexy.

Your eyes roamed over him in blatant appreciation. He was a powerhouse of strength, with thick, chiseled muscles that seemed almost carved from stone. Broad shoulders tapered down to a torso built from years of dedication, and his arms were thick with veins and ridges that caught the light. 

Your gaze slid down his powerful legs, the defined muscle of his thighs flexing beneath the hem of his shorts. He was the embodiment of rugged masculinity, intense and undeniably commanding. His stubbled jaw caught your eye, and you let your gaze linger on his lips—the lips you’d dreamed of tasting so many times...too many times, in fact. So often that sometimes you imagined the fantasy as if it were a memory. So delicious, so sensual and hot.

Only he wasn't hot—you try to tell yourself. You dragged yourself back to reality, frowning as you looked down at him. He was cold.

You went back to the bedroom and pulled an extra blanket off the closet shelf, and carried it back to lay across his sleeping form. He stirred slightly as you draped it over him, and his eyelids fluttered open.             

“Hmmm…” Bucky mumbled thickly, his voice hoarse and low. “Good morning.”

“It's not morning, it's two a.m,” you whispered. “I was just getting you another blanket. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmmmm…” he said, cuddling it around him.

He pulled his leg down off the couch and straightened himself out, stretching languidly, shuddering, like a cat. You loved watching the way his muscles tensed and relaxed. You loved watching him do anything, in fact.

“It's so cold,” You said by way of an unasked-for explanation, and looked away from his body. His eyes were still closed so you could have looked a little longer, but didn't want to risk it.

“Cold?” he murmured. “Just a second.” He pushed aside the blanket and reached for you, tugging you down towards him.

You gasped and lost your footing, sitting down hard on the couch beside him. He pulled you down and enveloped you in his arms, pulling you tight against his chest.

He flipped the blanket over top of both of you. “There. I'll keep you warm.”

A sleepy duskiness coloured his voice, and something in the intimacy of it, the familiarity of it, made your heart flutter rebelliously in your chest. He smelled so damn good, like a mixture of soap and the sweet warm and musky scent of cedar wood. He drew you in closer, molding his body against yours, and God help you, you allowed him. You settled in more comfortably beside him, your leg thrown over his, your arm stretched across his chest.

“I was saying you must be cold,” you whispered. “Not telling you I was.”

“I know.” Bucky said without missing a beat.

You lay there, entwined, quiet, saying nothing more. You rested your head against his chest and could feel more than hear the lazy beat of his heart, and the quiet, smooth passage of his breath. His hand languidly caressed your arm, the rhythm growing slower as he drifted back to sleep. 

Sleep threatened to claim you, too, so you stirred, trying to disentangle from him. You'd have to be near your alarm clock or you'd never get up in time.

“No, don't go,” Bucky murmured as you tried to move. He held you tighter.

“I have to,” you whispered. “I have to get some sleep, I have to get up in a few hours.”

“Stay.”

“I can't.”

He was gradually coming awake, slowly becoming more oriented. He shifted position slightly so that he was more on his side, looking down at you as he rested his head on his bent elbow. He stretched his other arm across you and pulled you closer, gently caressing you back.

“Stay,” he said again. His voice was clearer now. He was fully awake. Still slightly dazed from sleep, but awake.

You hesitated, letting your gaze roam over his face. Finally you whispered, “We talked about this a long time ago, remember?”

“I know. I'm sorry. I just...I want you to stay.”

In the dim moonlight spilling in through the French doors his features were muted, but his eyes—his eyes were large and dark, taking you in with a mixture of hope and trepidation. Bucky moistened his lips, his pupils growing even larger as they roamed over your face and you could feel the pace of his heart pick up and his breathing increase. 

His gaze moved down to your lips and his brow creased in an expression that could have been longing, or frustration, or both. He raised his eyes slowly to meet yours, the haze of desire stealing slowly into his gaze.

“You're not nothing to me,” he said, almost to himself. “That's precisely the problem.”

How on earth were you supposed to resist such a sensual, beautiful, soulful man? Stay? How could you not?

“Please,” he whispered. “Stay. . . I have something I need to get off my chest.”

Your resolve was crumbling as you felt your chest tighten. You looked into his eyes and barely managed to whisper the words. 

“What’s that?”

“This.” 

He lowered his head slowly and kissed you, brushing your lips softly, sensuously, as if in no particular hurry. As if he had all the time in the world to savor you, to taste you, to send pleasure rippling through you with every touch of his lips. He murmured softly as he gently nipped at your bottom lip, teasing your, biting and then kissing-better the lips he was bruising.

You could feel the pleasure he was taking in kissing you, the slow—tortuously slow—pleasure he was enjoying for himself and teasing out of you as he lingered in your mouth. Bucky’s hand slid along your jaw, tilting your face up to him, his thumb caressing your cheek as he kissed you. He broke the kiss and looked down at you in wonder, his eyes glittering in the dim light, then brought your face up to his and kissed you again.

You opened your mouth to him and his tongue slipped in to tangle sensuously with yours. He angled his head from one side to the other, exploring your mouth and pressing kisses along the edges of your lips. You kissed his cheeks, his chin, his light stubble gently razing your lips and making them all the more sensitive. When you found his lips again, their soft warmth was intoxicating and you deepened the kiss, teasing his tongue with your own.

You kissed him back sensually, with equal possessiveness and enjoyment, and knew that your response was emboldening him.

Bucky tensed and pressed against you, his kiss growing firmer and more insistent. His mouth moved over yours expertly, wringing pleasure from you in breaths that came faster and little cries that escaped into the quiet of the room. Your soft moans made him tense even more, and you could feel his arousal along the length of your leg, hard and urgent like the rest of his body. 

You were both warm now, and he threw back the blanket before settling back down on top of you, returning to the slow, rhythmic dance of kissing, teasing, and tasting that was just about driving you mad.

You slipped your hands up over your head, thinking to wrap them around him, but he found them and clasped your wrists together with his left hand and kept them there, holding you down with gentle pressure as he bent to kiss you more deeply. 

The sensation of being held by him, of being pinned down, gently, but with no doubt as to his strength, rushed through you in unfamiliar torrents of excitement. He entwined his fingers in yours, easing up the pressure, dipping his head between your upraised arms to kiss you deeply, slowly, torturously.

As his tongue tangled with yours the fingers of his right hand trailed up the side of your body, stopping at the swell of your breast. He ran his hand over you gently, tentatively, feeling the weight of it beneath him and groaning softly. He slipped his hand inside your robe and cupped you bare flesh, his warm hand gently squeezing, caressing, as he groaned again and grew even harder. His thumb circled over your nipple and you gasped, arching against him at the sudden sting of pleasure. He pushed aside the robe further, revealing your breast with its tight nipple, unbearably aroused by his touch.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, gazing at you breast. He lowered his lips to your nipple and gently kissed it, his tongue tasting and savoring it the way he had just been savoring your mouth.

The wet warmth of his mouth on your sensitive flesh made you ache with a tension and desire you had never felt before. When his tongue swirled around you nipple languidly, when he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and suckled softly, you felt the exquisite torture of it flow down through you body to you very core. How could this feel so damn good? Just the lightest brush of his lips, his tongue, his teeth on your nipple and you felt almost ready to climax.

His free hand slid around to the small of your back and he lifted you gently, sliding you further down the couch and farther under him. You were completely beneath him now, and completely held by him, one strong hand gently pressing your wrists into the sofa cushions and the other splayed across you back while he bent his head and kissed and sucked and teased you breast. You almost couldn't bear the sensation as your nipple grew harder, more tender, and the pleasure started liquifying between your legs.

"Yes..." you breathed. You arched again, wanting him to release you from his mouth and yet hoping that he never would. "Oh my God, Bucky, that feels so good..."

Bucky lets go of your wrists and brings his hand down to your other breast, pushing aside your robe to free you completely. He caressed you, sensuously feeling the roundness of you, and trailed his lips across the rising swell, kissing and tasting and smiling at the way your soft flesh moved under his tongue. He gently grasped your breast and brought your nipple up to his mouth, which grew hard and exquisitely tender under his tongue. His fingers continued to tease your other nipple, the one still stinging from the feel of his mouth on it, still aching to feel it again.

You arched into him, sinking your hand into his hair and pressing him to your breast. The pleasure of his mouth and hands on you was making you weak, making you shiver with pleasure and need, all down the length of you and in between your legs. You could feel  yourself growing wet and ready for him, the pleasure so intense, so unlike anything you'd ever felt before.

You heard yourself moaning softly, whimpering, making sounds you had never made before, all but dizzy with desire and sensation. With every little sound you made he groaned, or his erection surged against you, or he fell onto your breasts again with increased hunger. Your response to him was as intoxicating to him as his mouth was to you—you could feel it in his every movement, his every ragged breath.

“I need you, Bucky.” You pleaded softly. “Please.”

He rose over you, bracing his arms on either side of you. His eyes blazed with heat as he looked down at you, at you eyes, your mouth, your breasts. He took your mouth expertly, hungrily, kissing you fiercely with a dominance that thrilled you. He moved to trail hot kisses down your neck, licking the sensitive skin near your collarbone, barely skimming you with his tongue as if wanting the merest taste. You gripped his shoulders, and turned your head to the side, aching at the sensation of his mouth on you, kissing, licking, tasting. 

You moaned at the feel of his tongue on your neck and the gentle pressure of his lips pressing kisses against your skin. You needed to feel him, to taste his salty sweet skin, his maleness, him.

As if he could read your thoughts he lifted up from you to pull his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. You reached up and ran your hands over his chest, and as he fell on you again his mouth found yours hungrily and his hand slid into your hair, gripping the top of your head possessively as you kissed.

You had never felt so possessed, so taken, so overwhelmed by a man. You broke the kiss and sought his neck, his shoulder, his tense muscles straining as he held himself above you. You branded your own hot trail of kisses into his skin, felt him strain against you at the sensation. You loved the taste of him, so male and wonderful beneath your lips.

"Baby. . ." His voice was hoarse, breathless. 

For one brief moment uncertainty flashed in his eyes and he looked as though he wanted to say something. But when your lips found his again he lost the thought and succumbed to the kiss, slanting over your mouth, teasing your tongue with his.

You ran your hands down his back to the waistband of his boxers, and dipped your hands beneath the elastic to roam over his flesh. He tensed at your touch and you felt him suck in a breath as you moved your hands around to the front. 

He was very hard, and you curled your fingers—which couldn’t wrap around him fully—as you gripped his ass with your other hand. He groaned softly and kissed you even more deeply, surging against you with an almost desperate urgency. You began to stroke him, your fingers gently gliding up and down his smooth shaft until he suddenly let out a groan and broke away, stopping your hand with his own.

“Fuck,” he said breathlessly, heat blazing in his eyes. “I can't. . .”

Alarm flared in you. “What's wrong?”

“I won't last long. . .”

“Oh, is that all?” You gently pushed his hand away and began to tentatively stroke him again.

He moaned, closing his eyes briefly, enjoying the pleasure. “If you keep doing that. . .”

“What?” You prompted, nibbling on his lower lips as you stroked.

“I'll have to fuck you.”

“Good.” You took his lips again and you fell into a rhythmic kiss, as if you had been kissing each other forever. He moaned softly into your mouth as you stroked him, making soft noises of your own into his mouth.

Bucky broke the kiss, his breathing sharp and shallow, and gazed down at you, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice was quiet, urgent, almost desperate.

“Yes,” you breathed, pushing his boxers down with your free hand. He lifted up his hips to help you and shrugged out of them, kicking them to the floor.

“I didn't mean for this to happen, at least not tonight,” he said, his breath jagged and quiet as you continued to stroke him. “I've wanted you for so long, but—”

“I know,” You murmured, kissing his neck as your hand slid over his thick length again and again. His body was rigid with tension and you tried to relax him with your mouth, your whispers, the feel of your body. But you knew he wouldn't relax as long as you were stroking him. You paused and he relaxed slightly, but his eyes still burning and his breath still came unevenly.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, his eyes showing fear through the haze of desire. Heat blazed between them, and you felt such a desperate need in him that you wanted to soothe him, comfort him. But doing so with words seemed the wrong thing to do.

"Mhmmm," You murmured instead, kissing his jaw, his neck, the sensitive skin beneath his ear. He groaned softly as you ran your fingers over his shaft, teasing, tempting, letting you fingernails trail along the sensitive skin below. You cupped him and squeezed gently as he groaned louder, pleasure that sounded almost painful. you laughed softly, kissing along his collarbone, his shoulder, his neck.

“You know how I feel about you. . . ” he managed, his voice little more than a breath. “Don't you? That I—”

"Shhhh," You said, coming back to meet his eyes. He looked so afraid, so vulnerable, and yet so filled with desire. You knew, then, everything you needed to know. And every word he needed to hear. "Please. . . Baby. . .it's okay. We can talk later. Right now. . .please. . . just shut up and fuck me."

His fear melted into a smile so warm, so open, so full of relief that he almost looked ready to cry. He took your mouth again, arching over you as he claimed you. Before his kisses had been searching and sensuous, now they seemed driven by pure desire. He ground his lips on yours  masterfully, taking what he wanted, what he needed.

You could feel the raw need in him, the need for acceptance, the need to let pure passion overcome his fear. Every meeting of your lips sent another jolt through you, every taste of his tongue made you desperate for more, and you knew he was reeling from the same powerful sensations that you were. You could feel him starting to let go, to abandon himself to you, to enjoy making you abandon  yourself to him. 

Here was the lust you had always hoped was there, the powerful sexuality always just below the surface, the desire you had hoped and prayed he felt for you. It was here, pressed against you, an urgent cock and a hard, warm body, roaming lips and soft, male moans of pleasure and need. A careful heart revealing itself to yours.

You moved beneath him, pressing your hips against him to ease the heat that radiated from between your legs. The ache was exquisite, your need growing more urgent as you felt his erection surge and strengthen.

You felt his hand on your knee and then slowly, so damn slowly, he began to trail his fingers up along the inside of your thighs, which parted so easily at his gentle persuasion. His touch was electric, yet soft and sensual, and wherever his fingers played you felt a fiery tingle that made you shiver. Finally his fingers trailed delicately over your sensitive cunt, teasing you, tantalizing you, until you cried softly, silently begging him to touch you most sensitive place.

With a smile that you could feel more than see, his fingers slipped into your slick warmth and you cried out, a spasm of pleasure overwhelming you. He silenced your cry with his mouth, his tongue tangling with yours  while his fingers slipped deeply inside you and stroked, as languidly and rhythmically as you were stroking him.

“Oh my g—” You cried, writhing at the pleasure of his fingers sliding slowly in and out of you, then pulling out to trail up higher and caress your folds. When his fingers danced over your clit you arched you back, your breath leaving you in a gasp. The electricity of his touch, so gentle and sensuous, sent spasms of pleasure rippling through you. 

He didn't hurry the pace, just stroked you with an even, sensual rhythm as he kissed  you. He was holding you, his arm surrounding you, pressing his body to yours, his mouth never far from your lips, your neck, your ear, his eyes never far from yours. You had never felt so close to someone, so protected in his arms, so cherished and adored.

His fingers dipped down to enter you again and his thumb continued the slow, exquisite torture above. Just when you thought you'd go over the edge he'd pull away, pause, caress a different part of you and send you on the upward spiral again and again, or slide his fingers into you over and over while his thumb swirled and caressed and rubbed, driving you mad with an aching desire. 

He smiled down at you, nipped at your lips, pressed his forehead to yours and trailed kisses down your eyelids, your cheeks, until claiming your mouth again, his tongue mimicking the sweet, sensuous motion of his fingers and thumb.

He grew rock hard in your hand as you moaned with each breath, as you came closer and closer to the edge. You could feel him restraining himself, wanting only to pleasure you, anticipating your climax. But it wasn't what you wanted. On a ragged breath you stopped his hand.

"I want you," you said urgently. "Please, Bucky. . .fuck me."

He gazed at you, teetering on a moment of indecision. His chest rose and fell sharply with his labored breath, and he brought a trembling hand up to your hip and gripped you, holding you, moving to settle between your legs and pausing at your entrance.

"Please, I want you inside me." your voice dropped to a whisper so urgent you hardly recognized it yourself. "Please don't make me beg."

And whatever strength he had left vanished.

"Oh baby. . ." He moved forward and slid into you, a breathless throaty sound of pure male pleasure escaping his lips. "Oh my God. . ."

He paused for a moment, looking down at you with heavy-lidded desire, visibly enjoying the new sensation of being so deep inside  you. You were slick and hot, more than ready for him, and as you body adjusted to him, to the exquisite, aching stretch he was causing, you squirmed beneath him on a moan of primal pleasure. He pulled out slowly, torturously, and slid himself in again, filling you completely.

You closed your eyes and moaned, gripping his ass as he lifted your hips up to him, angling you so he could fill you more deeply. He began to thrust, slowly, rhythmically, his hips moving sensuously, making you muscles tighten around him as he plunged into you again and again, your movements coming so easily, so naturally, so deliciously slowly.

You lifted your legs to wrap them around him, loving the way it tilted you back so that his every thrust felt deeper, felt like it was reaching new depths of pleasure in you.

“Yes, yes, yes. . .like that. . .oh my god, Bucky. . .you fill me up so good.” 

He ran his hand possessively along your leg, pausing to look down at your joined bodies as he thrust into you. He raised himself up, his arms braced on the other side of you to keep his weight off you, and moved so he could thrust more freely, more quickly, building the tempo. He pressed his lips to your forehead gently as he drove into you, his breath ragged, panting, yours matching his intensity and need.

“Ugh—you drive me insane, I love hearing you moan my name—don’t stop.”

You could feel him getting close, nearing the edge of his own release, and he slowed, lowering his head to nuzzle your neck as the rhythm of his hips paused, and then resumed again, more slowly this time, building again, savoring you body the way his lips had savored you mouth, the way his tongue had devoured you breasts. His arm slid around you back again, holding you, lifting you up to him as he took your breast in his mouth and teased it with his tongue. His mouth was hungrier this time, sucking your nipple, flicking his tongue over it with such abandon that you felt it in your core. His passion was growing, and you could sense that his desire to be slow and tender with you was losing the battle against his raw primitive need.

You gripped him, lost in the dizzying sensations he was causing in you. His mouth on you, his hand roaming over you, gripping your ass as he thrust into you in a relentless rhythm. You were limp in his embrace, held in place for him to possess, to plunder, to pleasure. You had never been held like that before, and the primal intensity of it, the feeling of being so completely owned by his desire, overwhelmed  you. You were his, completely, your body as loose as a rag doll in his arms. You gripped his straining arms as he sent pleasure coursing through you, gripping you as he thrust and withdrew, plunged and pulled out, drove into you over and over again in breathless ecstasy.

“Keep fucking me like that—Yes! Oh my God, harder, please. . . B-Bucky!”

Waves of pleasure grew stronger and stronger in you, pushing you towards the ultimate pleasure, building with increasing urgency as his rhythm grew faster and harder. 

“Oh—like that? You like that?”

He groaned as he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breast, and drove himself into you with such exquisite need. You gripped his buttocks, feeling the powerful muscles contracting with each thrust, drawing him deeper into you. When he tore away from your lips and looked down into your eyes you felt the waves rise, growing stronger and higher and faster until with a shattered cry you came, trembling as the pleasure spasmed through you.

His eyes never left yours as he thrust into you, groaning from the exquisite pleasure of your spasming pussy. 

“Shit—fuck, you’re gonna make me come. Ohhhh—” Bucky moaned.

You were so incredibly tight, gripping his cock as you came, milking him as he struggled to last just a moment longer, lost in the heaven of you hot, wet heat. Your cries of pleasure echoed throughout the darkened room and when you whispered his name on a soft, sweet whimper he found his own release, jetting into you over and over again as he cried out in an agony of pleasure and a torrent, a chorus, of your name.

Finally, finally, his hips slowed and he lowered his head and kissed you gently, sensuously, as softly as he had when he had first pulled you down to him. Then he lowered his head to your neck and let himself rest there, lying against you, his heart thundering, his breath ragged and heavy. You lowered your legs from around his waist and wrapped your arms around him instead, cradling him to  you. you rested your head against the top of his and felt your own breath slowing, your own heartbeat returning to normal. His cock was still hard inside you and he shuddered as you clenched around him.

"God, you're incredible." He exhaled a long, deep breath.

He rose up and kissed you, shuddering with each aftershock as his cock surged inside  you. You could feel your inner muscles clenching around him, not releasing him yet, teasing the last drops of pleasure from him. 

He lay his head down against you again, breathing out a sigh that was both release and contentment as the last tremors rippled through him. You loved this feeling, this sensation of his body trembling with the afterglow of pleasure, pleasure you had given him, just as your body was tingling from the intense pleasure he had given you.

He held you to him, sliding out of you slowly, and shifted slightly so that you fit against him perfectly, settling into the warmth and comfort of his arms encircling you.

“Holy shit,” he whispered again, pressing his lips to your temple and leaving them there for a long minute before letting go.

“I'm so glad you stayed over,” you said quietly, kissing the soft skin of his neck.

He stilled for a moment, and you looked up at him, trying to read whatever might be revealed in his eyes. In the darkness both of you were inscrutable, until he leaned closer and bumped your cheek with his nose before lightly pressing his lips to yours for a sweet, soulful kiss.

“So does this mean we're not friends anymore?” He asked, in between luscious nips at your lips.

“You tell me,” you said sleepily, unable to resist his slow, savoring kisses.

You felt his smile as he kissed you languidly, with deliberate slowness, each kiss deepening into something more intimate than the last. Finally his lips stilled and you felt him fall asleep beside you, his breathing soft and slow.

You wanted to stay awake, to freeze this moment in time, to make it last. you wished you could lay there forever, tucked in beside him, your bodies curled to get you. But even as you tried to stay awake, gently caressing the arm that draped over you protectively. you gradually succumbed to a peaceful, contented sleep.

[lov3notts]

"you what?"

ᥫ᭡Theodore Nott x F!Readerᥫ᭡

summary: accidentally drinking a lust potion, you asked your best friend Theo for help.

warning: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, size kink maybe? cream pie.

word count: 2.4k

18+only; minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

“You what?” Theo’s eyes widened, you wanted him to do what? He wasn’t sure if this was a dream or not but if it was he didn’t want to wake up

Earlier that day , you had accidentally drank a lust potion. 

How, you might ask?

Well the boys (Enzo/ Mattheo) thought it would be funny to prank Draco by giving him a lust potion as payback for pranking them earlier that week

At lunch the 2 boys were there first, taking their usual spots they slip the potion to a bottle of Draco's favorite drink and placing it on the spot were Draco usually sits

One by one the group gets to the table ,leaving you and Draco left. 

Soon both of you walk in, but you seem to be in a rush

“Sorry guys I can’t stay and chat, I have to get back to studying, i’m just here to get some food to eat while studying” grabbing random things and the only drink you see left, you quickly stuff it in your purse

“Wait y/n!” Enzo saying frantically, giving Matt a worried look

You look up at Enzo as you start to zip up your bag. “Yeah?” 

“We were actually saving that for Draco, um- were having practice later and that’s his favorite”

“Omg I’m so sorry! Here-“ as your opening you bag Draco comes behind you , going to sit down 

“I actually got my own drink, y/n can have it” Dracos says while pulling out his drink from his bag,

Enzo’s and Mattheos’s eye widen.

“I- um, but we got it for you” Matt says with a bit of a shaky voice 

“Its fine, I don’t need it” as he waves his drink showing the 2 boys

“But-“ 

“Omg thank you Draco, I really have to go now guys see you later” you say as you're walking away before the boys have a chance to take away the drink.

Both Enzo and Matt try to call you back but you’re already gone, both freaking out inside. praying you don't find out what they did.

While studying in your dorm you couldn’t focus for more than 10 seconds. Thinking you might just be tired from all the studying you took a break. Getting up from your desk you head towards your bed. Laying in your bed you start to space out

At first it was all innocent thoughts, school, weekend plans but then they started to shift The only thing you could think of was pleasure. Thinking of a certain boy made your cunt throb, making your body hot

Your hand slowly creeps down to your shorts. Slowly playing with yourself imagining it was Theo’s fingers rubbing circles on your clit.

“Oh god Theo” you moaned 

but no matter how good it felt you couldn’t reach your climax. You were so needy and nothing was working. The rising heat from your body only made things more uncomfortable.

“God what is wrong with me, and why is it so hot” getting up from your bed you walk towards your desk, trying to find your drink, in hopes of it cooling you down . You picked up the bottle and before you can finish the drink you saw something written on the bottom of the bottle

“Payback- Enzo and Mattheo”

Your eyes widened with confusion. 

What?

Then you remembered how the drink was meant for Draco. 

everything started to make sense

This is why you were like this

You couldn’t even be mad at them, Your mind was clouded with the urge to get any satisfaction you could. all you wanted was any sort of pleasure but nothing was good enough. it started to get painful and a sudden thought popped in your head. Theo

he’d help right? He was really the only one you can go to. 

Your heart was racing at just the thought of Theo agreeing to help you out, being best friends all these years you had developed a crush on him, of course you never acted on it because you didn’t want to ruin your friendship 

Pacing back and forth your room, you finally decide to ask him for help. Nervously picking up your phone, you open Theo’s contact.

“Theo?”

“Hey Bella, what’s up?”

The nickname itself making you get butterflies.

 “Um- I need a favor, can you come over?”

“Of course, i'll be over in a few”

“Okay see you” hanging up the phone, your thoughts begin to consume you

What if he says no?

What if he laughs at your face and runs off

What if…

What if he says yes… 

Before you can continue, there was a knock on your door. That must be him. Slowly walking to your door, palms sweaty, you turn your door knob

“Hey, what did you need help with?” Theo goes in to give you a hug

Hugging him back, your nose is infused with his cologne  

God why does he always smell so good

He lets go and looks at you closely, he moves a strain of hair behind your ear to have a better look at you. His eyebrows frown, noticing your face is flustered and incredibly warm.

“Are you okay? Your face is warm” resting his hand on your cheek

“Yeah, um actually funny story-“ Quickly leading him to sit on the edge of your bed, holding his hands as you begin to explain

“Please just hear me out. I know it's odd ,but I have no one to go to,- just please-“ falling to your knees, begging.

“Hey hey, breathe. You know I'm here if you need anything. Now tell me, what’s up?” Theo's eyes looking at you with worry.

“Please I- I need you to fuck me” you blur out

That was the last thing Theo thought would come out of your mouth. 

You wanted him to what???

He was speechless, absolutely at a loss of words. jaw wide open

“Please, I'm sorry for asking you for this, I know it’s a lot and we’re best friends. But please I can’t take it anymore. I accidentally drank something that wasn’t meant to me and it had this effect on me. I’ve tried everything but nothing is working. I need your help please” your face heating up from embarrassment . I mean you only ever had the biggest crush on your best friend for years, but what you didn’t know was that so did Theo.

Theo had dreamt of the day he got to be with you.

How’d he spend hours pleasuring himself of the thought of you under him, on top of him and how good you’d take him in your mouth. God, was he hard the second you asked him to help you out.

How could he say no? 

Without another thought he picked you up from the floor. Sitting down back on your bed while you straddled his lap.

Looking into your eyes, moving a piece of your hair behind your ear, resting his hand on your cheek, he leaded in.  

Your soft lips on his, both whimpering into the intense kiss. Licking your bottom lip asking for access. You gladly gave it to him. 

Slowly rocking your hips on his clothed boner, trying to find any friction to satisfy you.

Slowly laying you down your bed, taking off your clothes until you were left in nothing but your matching black lace set. 

“Don’t worry Bella, i’ll take good care of you” Theo whispers as he starts to leave a trail of kisses down your body

“Theo please~” you pleaded, needing to feel something, anything.

“poor thing, you’ve must of been so uncomfortable for such a long time, don’t worry i’m here now”

He stopped to look at your lying body, face all flustered, messy hair. 

“God you’re so beautiful” he wasn’t lying, he’d always thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Always jealous of your ex boyfriends because they got to be with you. But now it was his turn and he was going to give you the best you’d ever gotten, he was going to ruin every other guy you’ve been with. 

Slowly pulling your panties off, dick throbbing at the sight of your wet glistening pussy. Trying to ignore his throbbing cock and focus on you, he gives you a sweet smile. 

“You're soaking wet, so ready for me” leaving little kisses around your pussy, teasing. finally burying his face between your legs, painfully slow licks as he takes it in, savoring every moment. 

As soon as you felt his tongue, you became a whimpering mess.  

“Theo~ oh my god yes” moving your hand to his hair, giving it a little tug. 

Theo couldn’t hold it in anymore, he started to devour you. eating you out as if he’d never get this opportunity ever again

“You taste so fucken good” he groaned against your dripping core. The vibrations sending you waves of pleasure 

“More please, Theo! oh my god~” it felt so good, his tongue making you feel things you’ve never felt before with anyone else

“So polite, even when your so needy” Theo smirked as he sees how much of a mess you were for him

He starts so pump one of his fingering into you while eating you out. Soon enough you felt the feeling you were craving for

“M-so close, fuck Theo i’m so close”

He stops what he’s doing, getting up grasping on his zipper and undoing the button. Tugging his jeans and boxers off. 

“Theo? Why’d you stop? I was so close” you looked at him with teary eyes. you were so close, god why did he stop

“Sorry princess, I wanna be in you, want you cum on my cock” godddd was he hot

His cock strung out his pants hitting his stomach , you were lost for words. In no world was Theodore Nott small, he was big- huge even. you’ve never taken anything close to his size.

Theo noticed your starring

“Like what you see?” A smile tugged the corner of his lips

“Don’t worry you can take it, I know you can”

You nodded at his works 

He lined himself up to your pussy, tracing himself up and down, teasing you.

“You have no idea how long i've been wanting to do this for” 

“Fuck ,Theo please, please fuck me” you whined 

“Anything for you, love”

he slowly pushed himself into you. You both let out a loud moan. 

“fuck, your so tight” Theo was out of breath.

You felt so good around him that he never wanted this moment to end.

“fuck Theo your big” you said panting 

“You think you can take more?”

More???

“There’s more??” Looking at Theo with a disbelief face

He chuckled “i’m only have way”

“Don’t worry you can handle it, can’t you baby?”

“Mhm- yes yes, I can take it”

Pushing the reset of himself into you. bottoming you out. heavily breathing, getting comfortable with the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“good girl ,You’re doing so well for me, are you ready?”

“Yes! fuck-please move, please” you begged

Brining your legs above his shoulders and laying them there. Gripping your ankles to keep you steady as he started to thrust into you. Both a moaning mess

“Fuck fuck fuckkk, Theo-” your eyes roll back, arching your back.

“You feel so good Bella, oh god-“ panting 

“Your squeezing me tight- fuck”

One of his hands moving to your waist. fucking you harder now, unable to stop. His cock was so fucking good, hitting your g-spot every time.

“Fuck Theo just like that, don’t stop, don’t stop please!” Your hands holding onto your bed sheets as he rocks his hips.

“You like that huh? You like it when your best friend is pounding into you, god you look so beautiful, taking all of me like a good girl” he groans while leaving kisses on your ankle.

Your walls clenching at his words

He groaned again as he felt your cunt throb at his praise. 

“Oh you like being called a good girl don’t you?” letting go of your ankle to grip your jaw to make you look at him.

“Who's a good girl are you?” Theo says as he speeds up his thrusts

Looking at him with half lidded eyes “Yours, all yours!!~“ you moan

“That’s right all mine, no one can ever make you feel this good, isn’t that right love?”

 “Mhm only you, ah~ i'm so close”

“Cum for me baby, come all over my cock”

You were absolute bliss, god you’ve never seen fucked this good, yeah you’ve had other hookups but nothing can compared to this, to Theo

You moaned loudly, shutting your eyes as you reached your orgasm “im- im cumming!!” Your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling

The way your walls clenched from cumming made Theo on the verge of spilling. He continues to thrust into you through your first orgasm. He didn’t expect you make such a mess all over his dick, your cum spilling out of you as he thrusts into you

You felt Theo twitch inside of you, knowing he’s close you moved his hand from your waist to your breasts.

“Mmm so soft…” Theo whispered. leaning down, putting his tongue on your nipple, swirling it around. “Mmm Theo that feels good” throwing your head back from a little act. Theo was soon approaching his climax.  

“Fuckk- can I cum inside of you? please oh god I can’t hold it anymore, please? Fuck-” Theo begged as he tried to hold it in, waiting for you response 

“Yes!! fuck Theo cum inside me” you practically screamed as you felt you stomach tighten.

He let out a loud moan as he spilled his cum inside of you. You screamed as you felt his warm cum spilling in you, triggering your second orgasm.

Theo’s thrusts became sloppy, riding out both your highs. He pulled out and laid beside you. Dizzy and breathless, taking a moment to catch your breath.  Finally when you both got steady, you look up at Theo

“Thank you Theo, really”

“No need to thank me Bella, you can come to me for anything anytime” smiling at you.

crawling onto his lap you whispered into his ear “stay the night? I don’t think the drink has worn off just yet~”

This was going to be a long night for Theo.

ᥫ᭡reblog's & comment's are appreciatedᥫ᭡

a/n: Thank you for reading my first ever fic!! a special mention to @leona-hawthorne for being an angel and giving me feedback on my first rough draft. It helped a lot:)!! another honorable mention to @nottsangel!! Im that anon who mentioned writing their first story, hope you like it^-^ thank you both, your blogs have inspired me to start writing. xoxo

©lov3notts ,do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[lymtw]

The frustration that Satoru feels when he completely stops seeing you as just one of his best friends.

You’re so pretty, modeling the dress you’ll be wearing on your date with some guy who probably dims in comparison to you. Suguru says you should try the outfit without the cardigan, so you take it off for a second and do a little 360 for the trio. Shoko gasps when she sees the lacy details that were hidden by the coat and Suguru claps in validation. “You’re so gonna get some.”

Satoru just watches, cheek resting in his fist as he half listens to the little debate between Shoko and Suguru. It’s all a blur as he focuses on the one glowing in front of him.

“Satoru?” You wave your hand in front of him.

“Hm?” He blinks up at you, acting like he wasn't zoned out while staring.

“Tie-breaker. Coat or no coat?”

He had heard what Suguru said when you took the cardigan off. 'You’re so gonna get some.'

He doesn’t want that.

“You should stay layered. You might get cold later.”

Suguru groans in disapproval, falling back into the couch cushion, while Shoko grins, smugly, at her small victory.

“Coat it is.” You smile, running back to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“You like her, huh?” Suguru asks as soon as you’re out of sight, a squint of betrayal in his eyes.

“Pfft, nah. What makes you think that?” Satoru defends.

“She asked for our opinion on the dress and you went silent," Shoko says, throwing a knowing smirk at Satoru.

“You don’t want her to get laid or something? Why’d you vote for the granny cardigan?” Suguru adds, arms crossed over his chest.

“I want to see you take care of her when she’s sick. I did it last time, and she was unbearable. Also,” he turns to answer Shoko’s remark, “what can I say? I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“A lot of her on your mind.” Suguru nods over at you.

Satoru turns, a lucent gleam in his eyes when he sees you.

“Alright, guys. I’ll be back before-“

“Don’t rush!” Shoko says, giggling at the dopey look on Satoru’s face.

There’s a smirk tugging on Suguru’s lips. “Have fun.”

“Call if you need me to pick you up," Satoru blurts, sitting up straight on the lounge chair he was seated in.

Shoko gasps and Suguru’s eyes go wide for a second.

“Uh... sure. Will do. Love you guys, bye!” You walk past your friends, opening the front door and shutting it behind you.

Your perfume had some effect on Satoru because for some reason his heart was racing and he was unable to calm it down.

“What?” Satoru asks when he notices the way his friends look at him. “I’m the only one with a car here.”

“Uh-huh, let’s put it that way," Shoko says, sharing a menacing look with Suguru.

—

You did end up having to call Satoru. Your date was the most annoying, insufferable person you had ever met and you weren't going to pretend like you were enjoying your time with him for the rest of the night. How can someone be so different the moment you’re alone together? You couldn’t stand him, so you excused yourself from the table and went to the restroom halfway through your meal.

You called Satoru, hoping he wasn't kidding about calling him if you needed a ride home.

“Hey, uh, I know this is really inconsiderate of me, but can you come pick me up from the restaurant? If you can’t it’s totally fine. I’ll stay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine. It turns out I can’t stand this guy.” You chuckle, your hand reaching for the sensor beneath the water faucet, the cool water running through your fingers. "He's gross and just... I don't know."

“Did he do anything to you? Are you okay? ‘Cause, you know, I can kick his ass.”

“You already asked me that, 'toru. I’m okay. He’s just…” you pause, a sigh filling in the silence, “...different from what I remember. I don’t know this guy.”

Satoru is already sitting in his car. The moment you asked him to pick you up, he grabbed his keys and headed for the car.

“Give me ten minutes.”

“It takes twenty to get here.”

“Too bad. I’m running a few red lights. Sit tight.”

“Sa-”

The call ends and you’re left staring at the contact photo you have for him. You turn your screen off and stare into the mirror. You don’t know if you should stay in the bathroom until Satoru gets there or if you should go back out to the man waiting for you.

—

“So, Satoru likes her, huh?” Shoko says, leaning back in the lounge chair Satoru sat in before.

“Who would have guessed? We’ve all been friends for years and he’s never looked at her like that.”

“We should invest in some noise cancelling headphones. Who knows what could happen after tonight?”

Suguru furrows his eyebrows in confusion, so Shoko grins and demonstrates. She rocks back and forth in the old lounge chair, the chair creaking and squealing.

“Oh.” Suguru’s face further scrunches. He didn't need the image of his friends doing that together, in his mind.

—

Your phone vibrates on the sink, and Satoru’s name appears on the screen when you flip it. You quickly answer the call.

“Hey, i’m outside.”

“How do I walk out of here without seeming like a bitch? I didn’t think this through.”

“First, walk out the restaurant doors. Then, get in my car. It’s pretty simple, honestly.”

“We haven’t paid the bill.”

“Fuck it. Let him pay.”

“That’s just wrong. Alright, i’ll be out in a bit. Bye.”

“Bye.”

You sum up all the courage you have and walk out of the bathroom. Once you reach the table, you pull out some cash you have just laying around in your purse, like forty-something bucks, and set it down in the middle of the table.

“Hopefully that’s enough to cover half of it.”

“Where are you going?” Your date asks.

“To keep it polite, I have to go. Have a good rest of your night.”

You walked out of the restaurant, immediately spotting Satoru’s blue Camaro.

The second you get in, you make yourself comfortable, removing your heels and taking down your hair from its updo.

“What’s wrong?” Satoru asks, when you don’t say anything.

“It’s fine. This guy just wasn’t the one.”

Satoru’s chest feels tight now that you’re in the car. The smell of your perfume has returned and you’re glowing in the moonlight. It makes him think of the effort you put into looking the way you do, and how you ended up having to hide in the bathroom.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You’re looking in the sun visor mirror, bobby pins in your mouth as you fix your hair so that it’s not in your face once Satoru starts driving.

“Mm… whatever you want to do,” you say, muffled by the pieces of metal pressing into your lips.

It wouldn’t be whatever he wants to do, though. All he wants to do is kiss you, right now. Do something to soothe the ache you must be feeling.

“Why are you acting like this?” He asks, watching you as you place another pin in your hair.

You laugh through your nose, a bobby pin still between your lips. You put it in your hair before answering.

“Like what?” You look at him while you put your seatbelt on.

“Like this doesn't bother you. You don't have to put up a front, you know? I'm not gonna laugh at you."

The metal clicks, and you fold the sun visor back up. “Because it didn’t bother me. I’m not gonna settle for someone I hate being around."

Part of Satoru wanted this to go well for you. He wanted to see a brilliant smile on your face when you got home. So, the fact that it didn’t end up that way strangely caused some heartache for him.

“Don’t look so down.” You give him a kind smile and pinch his cheek. “I’m okay. Really.”

He tries to distract himself from the warmth that seeps into his cheeks from your quick gesture. “Well, I don’t want to go home. Is that okay, with you?”

“What’s up with you?” You ask, bringing one of your legs up and folding it comfortably on the seat.

“Nothing.”

You stare at him until he breaks out his contagious smile and laugh.

“Really, nothing. I just want to spend some time out tonight. Shoko and Suguru want to stay home and be couch potatoes."

You see your date walking out of the restaurant, phone against his ear. He doesn’t look too defeated, but you don’t want him to see you with Satoru and make any bold assumptions.

“Okay, that’s totally fine, but can we go?” Your leg goes back down, meeting the floor mat and you turn to face the window.

Satoru analyzes your behavior and your expression. Your arms are crossed, you refuse to look in his direction again. It’s weird compared to how you were acting two seconds ago.

“What?” Satoru turns to look at whatever made you shrink, and as soon as he sees him he rolls his window up. “Really?” His eyes are lidded in disappointment. It’s not in you as a person, but in your lack of respect for yourself, choosing someone so far below your league.

“He was nice when I first met him.”

Satoru puts the gear in reverse, backing out of the parking spot. “He looks stupid and on top of that he acts like it, too? God.”

“I know, I know.” You lean against the car door and stare out the window.

“What made you think you deserved him? Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around how low this is for someone like you.”

“I don’t know.”

Your responses to Satoru's interrogation kept getting shorter and shorter and he realized he was beating a horse that was already down.

“You know I care," he mumbles, breaking the heavy silence. “I don’t mean to tell you who to date and who you should be with.”

“I hate this conversation. You’re not my dad, Satoru. It’s fine.” You sit up, back against the seat and face forward. “Where are we, anyway?”

“I just followed a random road to see where it would lead. I don’t wanna go home, but I also don’t want to know where I am.”

“So, we’re lost.” You laugh.

“Hey, as long as we have phones with enough battery, we’re not really lost.”

“Right.” You grin, continuing to watch the road. You look over the steering wheel to see how much gas the car has. It’s two marks below the bold F.

“Can you tell me something?”

You turn to Satoru, giving him your full attention. He’s been more serious than you know him to be since you left the house.

“What’s up?”

“I’m not trying to rehash this father-like conversation, but as one of your best friends… what were you thinking when you accepted a date with this guy?” He glances over at you for a second. “What went through your mind when you said 'yes' to a date with him?”

“Potential love, dates, butterflies. All the stuff that goes into getting to know someone as more than an acquaintance or friend.” You fidget with the extra hair tie on your wrist.

“You want all of that?” He asks, glimpsing at you again.

You nod, silently.

“You’re pretty enough to fuck around with whoever you want, you know? I know some people who wanna do some pretty... vulgar things with you."

Your eyes go wide at how far south the conversation went. You cracked the second you looked at Satoru though. He looked somewhat proud to be friends with someone who could get some anytime.

“That’s… good to know, I guess.” Your mind stumbles over the part where he called you pretty enough.

“You’re not interested in that, though, are you?”

You wince, jokingly. “It’s just not my cup of tea. I want something more long-term.”

Satoru grins, almost like he wants to talk about himself.

“That’s not your cup of tea, is it?” You reciprocate the grin.

“No, no. Believe it or not, the last relationship I was in lasted a whole two months.”

You slapped the car door dramatically. “A whole two months?!”

“Stop it. It’s nothing, really," Satoru jokes, grinning with faux pride.

“Hey, i’m not shaming you. You’re not down with commitment and that’s fine. We're young. There's no need to rush."

“I haven’t found someone I really want to commit to. I'm not stupid enough to ignore the fact that people are really only attracted to my body. They can't stand when I open my mouth, so I figured it’s better to fuck around than to put my heart into something that won’t last without sex.”

Satoru's personality was for people with acquired taste. On the other hand, Satoru's physical appearance was for anyone and everyone. The people who could appreciate all of him would be in for the most amazing ride, because even as his friend, you could confidently say that there is no one like him anywhere in the world. You can only hum in acknowledgement of how romantically lonely he must feel.

“What?” You ask when the car stops. Satoru puts the car in park before turning it off. “We’re not out of gas, so what’s the problem?”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face you, one leg bent on the seat. He’s met with a breathtaking sight. You look stunning in that navy blue dress, and that shade smeared over your lips was calling his name. He can see part of your thigh from where your dress rides up.

“Can I talk to you about something?” The tension behind the question was enough to make your ears go red.

“Of course you can. You’re scaring me, but go on.”

He smiles, trying to lighten up the mood. He knows better than to just dump information like this on you so heavily, but he can't go home tonight without telling you how he feels. He already doesn’t expect much to come of telling you this, but it's been eating him alive and he can't keep it in anymore.

“You've been on my mind a lot, lately." He sees your slightly furrowed eyebrows. They match the unintentional pout on your lips. You’re confused and for some reason you feel nervous, like your heart might escape your ribcage.

“What does that mean?” You ask, wanting a clearer understanding. He could be worried about you in a totally platonic way. He could be wondering about what you've been up to lately. You're having trouble assuming there's romantic notes to his statement after the brief discussion you just had.

“It's exactly as it sounds. I've been thinking about you." He's not smiling, he's not laughing yet this still sounds like a joke that he’s running to mess with you.

“You done with your jokes? We could both be home right about now," you say, not intending for your words to come out as sharp as they did. His hand is suddenly cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away a speck of glitter from it.

“You say goodnight to me in the sweetest way—like you won't see me in the morning. And the soft smile you give me before you shut the door... it lingers in my mind. I dream of it from time to time."

You're trying so hard not to lean into his touch and nuzzle your cheek into his palm, but you make no effort to push his hand away. “What are you talking about, Satoru? Don't you think you're reading into it a little too much? I do that for all three of you. Ask Shoko and Suguru.”

His hand has been on your cheek for a while now, and he’s still looking at you like he has things to get off his chest. “I know you don't say it the same way to them as you do to me." He stops, a little sigh leaving him. He’s probably making you dizzy with all of this news, based on the look on your face. He retracts his hand and rests it on his thigh. You look stunned, so he cuts to the chase. “To be even more clear, I don’t see you as a friend. It doesn’t seem right to see you that way when I can picture us doing more. Being more."

“Doing more?” You repeat, cheeks growing warm.

“Holding hands, kissing, being alone together—more.”

The heavy silence returns, both of you nervously avoiding eye contact.

“I..." you huff. "I need some air.” You unbuckle yourself before exiting the car. Your scent remains in the car even after the door shuts behind you, leaving Satoru to wonder if things are screwed with you.

Your back is against the door, your hands interlocked in front of your eyes, shielding you from the gentle moonlight. You groan, irritated by the conflicted thoughts that came with Satoru's revelation.

It’s not long before Satoru comes out and joins you, leaning on the side of his car. It's cold and he doesn't want you to get sick again. His heart could barely handle your involuntarily weak display the first time.

“I didn’t stress you out, did I?” He asks, turning his head to look at you. You shake your head, your hands still covering your eyes. “There’s really no part of you that can envision an us between me and you?”

You chuckle, a sound that makes his heart pang. “It’s funny... you know, a long time ago it was all I dreamed about.”

Now this was baffling news to Satoru. How long ago was a long time ago? A couple months ago? Last year? Three years ago? And why didn’t you say anything?

“I considered you a pursuit that was out of reach. You had—have— all these girls just throwing themselves at you, and I couldn’t be one of them, so I befriended you instead.”

“How long ago was a long time ago?” He asks, nervous to hear the answer.

“Like last year in March. It was during your phase where you would never come home.”

He feels like an asshole. Especially since not too much later, he developed similar feelings for you that he endlessly denied.

“You liked the me you never got to see?”

You both chuckled at the rhyme of his words, your broken senses of humor adding some lightheartedness to the conversation.

“I guess you not coming home was more calming because I didn't have to be nervous to see you.”

You crossed your arms. The cardigan protected you, but not enough. The cold wind was starting to nip at your cheeks. Satoru notices and moves closer to you.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

You didn’t want to. You were nervous being “stranded” with Satoru already, but minimizing the space between you was even more nerve-wracking. He was your greatest temptation before, and you could easily create those labyrinths that guide him into your mind again if you got close enough.

“I’ll be fine," you say, looking straight ahead at the field of weeds in front of you.

“You’re gonna catch a cold. Get in the car," Satoru prompts. He thought back to the tired look on your face as you laid in bed sick, waiting for him to bring you warm soup.

“No," you insisted, turning away from him.

He inched closer, not wanting to look at your back. “Please, get in the car." He thought of the gracious look on your sick face when he brought you another blanket to keep you warm.

“I said no, Satoru. I don't want to get in the car with you."

You were being stubborn as hell, and something about it made Satoru’s blood boil to the point where he did whatever his mind told him to do. You were suddenly pinned to the car, your hands on Satoru’s chest to keep some distance. He blocked every gust of wind that threatened to bite at your skin, and enveloped you in his warmth. You don’t know how, but in this freezing temperature, Satoru’s hands felt like sunlight on your cheeks. His face was centimeters away from yours, his bright eyes searching for a loophole in your feelings for him. Your eyes spoke with an infinite amount of possibility, and some of it didn't make sense, so he kissed you in hopes of translating what you were trying to say.

You didn’t have any fight left in you. Not when you felt so secure in this close proximity. Now, all you wanted was to be in the car with him, alone.

The kiss was released with light breaths from both of you, a look of feeling complete on Satoru’s face. “Will you get in the damn car,” he whispers, his arms caging you against the car.

“Say please," you say in the same intimate volume as him.

“Please," he complies, allowing his eyes to flit between your eyes and your lips.

“Pretty please?" you push.

“Pretty please," he says, the corners of his lips twitching.

“How about pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“Get in the car," he says through a laugh.

You chuckle, shoving him lightly before opening the door and entering the car. Satoru gets in the drivers seat and suddenly it all feels strange. Strange, but in the best way.

The tension from before returns. There's no wind blowing to fill in the silence when you both stop talking.

“Do you ever think of me when you're alone?” It was a weird question to be asked by him, especially since you had already told him that your feelings for him were left behind.

“Never," you reply, a softness in your tone that held memories of when all you thought about was Satoru.

He's somewhat disappointed, seeing as though there's a chance he might be too late.

“Do you think that will change after tonight?” He seems to be getting closer, or at least his hands are. Your skin is irresistible and he wants to feel how soft you are. He's been craving you for so long, and you're right there.

“There’s no way to tell.” You can see how slowly his hand is traveling. A minute ago it was on his lap, now it’s on the armrest between your seats. You can’t wait any longer. The suspense might make you jump out of the car again, so you grab his hand and put it on your thigh, where your dress rides up.

“I’ll throw the question back to you. Do you think of me when you're alone?” You ask him now because he won’t give you some bullshit response at a time like this, when he’s getting everything he’s wanted for who knows how long.

“All the time,” he responds so quickly. “When I wake up, before I go to sleep, in the shower, while I brush my teeth.” There’s this foolish look on his face, like he would give anything to never lose the ability to have you on his mind all the time. "You're in there, organizing the shrine I made for you," he admits, with a grin. His thumb presses into your thigh, massaging the plush skin. It makes you nervous as hell, but you like it.

“Have you told Suguru and Shoko?”

He chuckles, remembering the conversation he had with them after you left. “I’m positive they know."

Once again, you're left staring at each other in silence, drowning in the tension you’ve created within yourselves. Satoru has yet to move his hand away from your thigh, not letting up even when he feels goosebumps spread on your skin. He tests the boundaries you have set up, finding no resistance from you when his hand reaches further up your dress.

“You’re not gonna tell me to stop?” He asks as his fingers are met with lace, a texture that makes his heart thud rapidly in his chest.

You shake your head, leaning back in the seat. His fingers ghost over the front of your panties, finding a satin bow just below the elastic band.

“Were you going to let that guy touch you? Is that why you wore these?” He hasn’t even seen them, and yet he can tell they’re the cutest thing ever.

“Maybe," you mumble, looking away in slight embarrassment.

“Can I see them?” He asks.

You nod, allowing him to slowly pull up your dress. Your heart drops when you hear him gasp.

“God, no way," he says, sounding defeated. His ears slowly turn a bright shade of red as he observes the material covering your intimate area.

“Stop,” you whine, feeling flustered by his reaction and the way he stares.

His hand returns to its previous spot, continuing to play with the part of the elastic that sticks to your hip.

“You wear these types of panties on every date you go on?”

You nod, biting your lip as his fingers move just to feel the fabric. His touch is still ghost-like—light, barely there, but it’s working you up anyway. There’s barely enough friction, yet you can feel your wetness begin to ruin the garment.

He sighs. “You know, no one deserves you.” His tone is smooth and he smiles at you, an angel taking control of his features. “Not even me, but I can make up for the one who missed you tonight.”

He spares his attention to the spot in the middle of your panties, only smiling when a breathy moan involuntarily leaves you.

“God..." you groan in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. "I can’t with myself."

His thumb rubs up and down your clothed slit, applying pressure when he reaches your clit.

“Don’t be shy. Make as much noise as you want,” he says, luring a gasp from you.

You look away again, red-faced, feeling embarrassed beyond belief.

“What?” A low chuckle follows. His hands settle on your thighs as he leans in and tries to look at your flustered face.

“This is weird.” You look out the window, too nervous to look at Satoru.

“How come?”

You giggle. “I can’t stop seeing you as one of my friends. It’s strange to experience something like this with you.”

“I would hope Suguru and Shoko aren’t touching you like this.” His hand splays on your thigh, kneading softly. “Are they?” He asks, after a pause.

“Of course not.”

He seems satisfied with that response because he’s trying to hold back a smile, but the corners of his lips are twitching. His fingers snap the elastic band of your panties against your skin a couple more times.

“Is it too weird to go on?” He asks.

You consider the facts. He already touched you, he confessed his feelings for you before he touched you so you know he wasn't lying about his feelings for you and he doesn’t just want sex. You had those feelings for him before, but claimed to have lost them with time.

Your overwhelming thoughts are enough to put an end to what was going on. You pull down your dress, hiding the evidence of his touch, and sit up straight in the seat. “Maybe we should head home before we do something we might regret later.”

He hums and smiles, not an ounce of disappointment in his features. “No argument from me."

Satoru put his seatbelt on and watched as you did the same before starting the car. There was no need for him to set up the GPS because all he did was drive straight, so all he had to do was drive back the other way.

You didn’t expect the car ride to be so quiet. Maybe he did want things to go further. You couldn’t bear to look back at Satoru, even though you could feel him side eyeing you as he drove. There were a couple times where he turned his head to look at you when you stopped at red lights, but you knew you couldn’t look back until you had something to say. You were overthinking everything that happened until that point. What can you say when you just went through an entire roller coaster of emotions with someone you call a best friend? Someone who has now seen you in a vulnerable position.

“Did you at least eat?” Satoru asks, finally breaking the heavy silence that engulfed the car.

“Uh, yeah. I was able to get through my meal," you respond, glancing at him quickly before turning back to face the window.

He nods in acknowledgement. You see the stop sign at the end of your street, signaling the closeness of home.

Satoru parks the car in the driveway, and you finish removing your shoes. You enter the house, expecting to see Suguru and Shoko up waiting for you guys, but to your surprise, the doors to their bedrooms are shut.

“Goodnight, Satoru," you say. “Thanks again, for picking me up.”

“Yeah, no worries,” he responds. “Goodnight.”

You can’t shake the void left in your gut after your time with Satoru. You sit on your bed for a moment thinking of the intimacy that occurred between you and him. The gentleness of his touch, the lack of judgement from him when you basically told him that you dress your best even for scumbags. Something inside you was begging you to tell him how much you wanted him to sleep in your room—in your bed. And that’s exactly what you aimed for with this rush of adrenaline that surged through you. You rose off the bed quickly, and made haste to reach his bedroom.

You knocked, calling his name once. Once was all it took for him to leap to open the door.

“Can you help me with something?” You asked, hoping he held no ill will towards you and that he wouldn’t deny you.

“Sure. With what?”

You motion for him to follow you to your room, and he does with no further questions, following your bare feet as you lead him to your room.

“I tied the knot for my dress a little too tightly." You let out a quiet chuckle, your nervousness imbued into it.

“Oh, I see," he says, stifling a grin. "Turn around.” His finger circles in the air.

You turn your back to him, facing the mirror on your vanity. You can feel his knuckles grazing your lower back as he takes the time to slowly loosen the knot, the straps that once sat wrapped around your waist dropping loosely.

“There,” he murmurs, still standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror.

“Thank you,” you say so quietly that it’s almost a whisper.

Normally, that is the cue for someone to leave, but there was this branch of electricity connecting him to you. He couldn’t find a reason to step away from you, so instead he stepped closer. His arms encircled your waist, his hands interlocking above your lower abdomen. Your stomach swarmed with butterflies—blood thirsty ones that knew all too well that they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, so long as Satoru was in your room.

He leaned in to kiss your shoulder, an act that brought goosebumps to your skin. "You look really pretty." You give in to the feeling, tilting your head to give him the entire canvas of that side of your neck. He wondered if you would be upset if you saw his kisses on your neck in the morning.

He stops and looks for your approval first because he has arrived centimeters behind the line between friends who are really comfortable with each other and something deeper. You have to let him know that it’s okay to cross this line.

“It’s okay,” you say, squeezing the hands that rest on your lower abdomen. “Don't stop."

That’s the green light he needed in order to move on. He did not hesitate at all in pulling back his arms and undoing the knot that held your dress up. He watched as the smooth velvet cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but those precious lace panties. You felt vulnerable with your bare chest out, but made no attempt to hide yourself.

He was frozen for a second or two, speechless at the sight before him.

“No one deserves you,” he finally says, his arms snaking around your torso. His lips start leaving behind their marks on the other side of your neck. He drags his kisses down your shoulder, biting once, then twice, resulting in a couple giggles from you.

“Close the door, please,” you say, realizing Shoko and Suguru would see what was happening if they opened their doors.

Satoru releases you only to close the door, locking it for safe measures. As soon as he’s back, he’s wrapping his arms around you before pushing both of you towards your bed. He starts stripping his clothes off, until he's left in just his boxers. His eyes never leave yours, a lovestruck smile on his face.

“You will never know how many times I’ve dreamt of this scenario."

“Stop.” You giggle, withstanding the sting of his lips on more than you neck. It’s heat on your chest and on your stomach now, his hands holding your waist so gently. You’ll look like some abstract piece of art by morning with the endless waves of kisses that Satoru gives you. He wants you so badly. Devastatingly so. He wants to prove that he is the closest to deserving you by the end of the night.

Your heartbeat is inconsolable in your ribcage. The eye contact brought some reality to the situation. He chuckles at the doe-eyed look on your face before refocusing on his task. He's nearing the elastic band of your underwear, those cute lacy ones he got to touch in the car. His touch is already affecting you, the evidence being a wet spot reemerging in the middle of your underwear.

"You're so warm and soft, and..." he sighs, your body making his mind cloud. He couldn't have ever accurately imagined how stunning you would be with just the golden street lamp's light shining through your window. "...you smell really fucking good." His hands go beneath the elastic band of your underwear, dragging his dainty fingers through your slit enough times to earn a small gasp from you, before pulling his hand out. "Bet you taste amazing, too," he says, wrapping his lips around his glossy digits. "Mhm..." he practically moans when your taste coats his tastebuds. "Sweeter than I could have ever imagined."

You don't think you'll get over Satoru saying these explicit things to you.

"More. Fuck, I need more." There's so much he wants to do to you, so little time in the night despite it only being 11:30. "God, you're so..." he cuts himself off and kisses down your stomach, impatiently—desperately. "...so pretty. So—fuck— so pretty. Gonna make you feel so good."

"Okay, 'toru, make sure to breathe," you tease, running your fingers through his soft locks as he nears your throbbing core.

He drags his nose up and down the wet patch of your panties, audibly inhaling your scent and exhaling through shuddered breaths. He sounds feral, his aching cock creating its own pool of arousal in his boxers. The tip of his nose was covered in your slick, the remnants of you on his skin driving him absolutely crazy. Once he absolutely couldn't take it anymore, he yanked your underwear down, almost tearing the pretty fabric and tossed it onto the floor. You were soaked at the sight of his pure lust towards you. Those eyes were darker than you've ever seen them before.

He tries to be slow and gentle for you. You're the one thing he's wanted for the longest time and now he has you. You're not guaranteed to be his forever, after this, but at least the night is secured and he has this one chance to prove that he would do it right with you. That he could handle your body with a tenderness and loving that would make you weep. Everything you want in a lover will be given to you in one act of demonstrating how undeniably in love with you he is.

His attempt at slow sensuality never reaches you. His arms are hooked tightly around your thighs to prevent you from squirming away from his greedy mouth. He wants everything you give him to never end. The melodic sound of you moaning his name, the sweet nectar that just keeps drooling out of your cunt, the sting on his scalp from the firm hold you have on his hair and the tugging. He's in heaven. If the possibility of this reoccurring is nonexistent, he wants this moment to loop. For there to be a glitch in real life that allows him to replay this scenario as many times as he likes, like a story with multiple endings.

"You taste so good. So fucking good, princess. Wanna give you a taste," he rambles. He unwraps his right arm from your thigh and uses his forearm to pin it down so that he can use his fingers on you. He bends all his fingers down except for his index and middle fingers. Your slick is already streaming out of you, ready to be collected, but he can't resist the urge to dip his fingertips into your pulsing hole. "Oh fuck, you're so wet," he utters in awe, quickly tossing the idea of just his fingertips going in when his long, lithe fingers sink into you with ease.

"Satoru," you choke out, a sharp gasp following. The pads of his fingers brush against that spot within you that forces you to bite your lip. Your heart is racing. What if you get caught? How would you explain what's going on to your friends and would the dynamic of your living situation change because of it? You care, but clearly not enough to second guess this moment again, like you did in the car.

"Mmm..." he moans against your clit, his lips smacking after releasing the now throbbing bundle. "So sweet." He pulls his fingers out of you and admires the glaze that drips down to his knuckles. He wants to be selfish and put them in his mouth, but his need for you to know how good you are to his tastebuds overpowers those thoughts. "Open, pretty," he says, tapping his wet fingers against your lips. He watches with parted lips as you take his slick coated digits into your mouth, shutting your lips around them to completely suck off your essence. "Good, huh?" A pleased grin appears when you nod. "Yeah... I want it back." He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and puts them on your right breast, smearing your saliva all over your nipple until it pebbles.

All you can do is say "huh?" before your lips are enveloped by his. The kiss starts out slow— he's taking a moment to appreciate how perfect your lips feel against his. For a minute you can feel the way he innocently wants you. You have butterflies in your stomach all over again.

His hunger for you grows with every sharp breath you release and the squirming beneath his unrelenting hands on your chest. Your heart has been pounding in your ears since he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you have goosebumps from all the rubbing, brushing, and tweaking he offers your nipples, the throbbing in your cunt only intensifying as you withstand it. He thinks the whimpers that seep into your kisses are the cutest sounds ever and he doesn't want them to stop, so he glides a hand down your abdomen and gives you the touch you're missing.

You break the kiss, throwing your head back into the pillow at the feeling of Satoru rubbing your clit. He watches through gleaming eyes the way your jaw hangs and allows the sweetest moans to spill from your kissed up lips.

"Feeling good?" He asks, grinning when you respond with a moan that makes you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Yeah? That's an answer, too." He chuckles, watching intently as you crumble beneath his touch, not some zero's who made a fool out of himself.

You uncover your mouth, your sounds amplifying and flowing freely. "Satoru," you gasp. "Oh, fuck– S-Satoru!" The last words you manage to cry out before you cum without a warning.

You look way too pretty arching your back off the bed and chasing friction from his hand. Your neck looks palpable like that, exposed for him like you want him to mark it up and take a few bites.

"Let me make you feel good, pretty girl," he coos, drunk off the cute sounds of the heaves and sobs that wrack through your chest, your little whines shining through them. Lustful, lidded eyes watch as you try to wriggle away from his touch.

"P-Please," you huff out, your trembling thighs working to shut around his hand. It's too much, your peak has passed and now you're left to bear the overwhelming feeling of his unstopping fingers.

"I know, I know. It's terrible..." he murmurs. His tip is leaking so much at the sight of your body jerking and your eyes welling with tears. He really loves the way you've surrendered yourself to him. "You're so pretty." He sighs, dreamily. He stops and wiggles his hand out of the tight embrace of your thighs. You take a deep breath and blink away tears, focusing on the comforting movement of his hands caressing your thighs. He can see the way you look at his body. His chest, the sculpted muscles of his abdomen, the pale happy trail that leads to a part of him that you are unfamiliar with.

He crawls over you, his lower body wedged between your legs. "Don't be scared to touch," he says, his tone sultry. He grabs ahold of your hand and places it on his chest, initiating the contact for you. You take control and allow your hands to roam his body. Like you're in a room full of random unpressed buttons, you explore the different reactions you get from touching different parts of him. You discovered that his nipples are sensitive. He groaned into your neck when you palmed at his pecs and borderline whimpered when you focused your touch on his peaks. He shuddered when you traced along his ribs, but once you neared his stomach and waist, things got hot for you all over again. Your heart raced as he breathed into your neck due to the feeling of your nails gently scratching along his abs. He was rutting his clothed bulge against your cunt, desperate, low moans leaving him with every graze of your nails along his waist.

"F-Fuck, I can't wait anymore. Please, let me in." He whips out the cutest puppy eyes you've ever seen, and though they're unnecessary, you're not opposed to him having to resort to those means.

"Y-Yeah, okay," you breathe, feeling the throbbing in your cunt intensify when he stopped rolling his hips against you.

He's rushing, his movement stuttered and his hands shaking with desperation as he works his boxers off. He's impressed with the amount of precum that went into them, but he doesn't waste time admiring the mess any longer once he frees his achingly hard, drooling cock. It's sensitive to the touch. He'll cum if he doesn't play his cards right while lathering his length with the essence that beads at his tip. With that taken care of, he comes close to you again.

"This is gonna be the slowest start ever," he says under his breath, eyeing that sweet little smile on your face, like you understand the turmoil he's going through with just trying to get inside you. His tip nudges your clit, spreading some of his precum onto the nub as he guides it up and down your slit a couple times. He's working himself up to sinking in because he knows how wet you are. After a few more strokes, he presses just the tip in, nestling it into your warmth with a groan. You gasp as he slowly drives himself into you, the stretch his girth induces proving to be immense. He tries to steady his stuttering hips as he pushes more of his length in.

"Little more, just a liiittle more," he says through soft breaths, more to himself than you. Once he glides the rest of his length in, he feels like he's going to explode. He's throbbing so hard and you're not helping at all with the brief, inconsistent spasming of your walls. "Oh fuck... shit," he whimpers, thrusting only halfway into you. "Sorry—fuck—s-sorry... I can't-" He gasps when he thrusts the rest of the way in, spewing his load as he just grinds against you.

Your eyes widen as you watch him, his eyes shut tightly, his jaw hanging ajar to release shaky breaths. His cheeks, neck and chest are blazed, bright color smothered over his pale skin.

"Shit..." he rasps, still taking deep breaths.

You can't even ridicule him for this when he looks so fine. The laugh he let out was enough to make your thighs twitch.

"It's alright, Satoru. It's getting pretty late, anyway."

"No-the-fuck it's not," he says, looking down at you with the smallest crease between his brows. He's wanted this—wanted you—for way too long and he can't leave your room without showing you just how badly he desires you. It's a need, at this point.

A chill runs down your spine and your heart drops at his response.

"I mean, i'm not tired. Are you?" He asks, softening a little after coming in so hot with his last response.

You're not and even if you were, it's those eyes... They compel you to want to do things for his sake. They're so soft and you feel wanted beneath their force. You feel everything he said to you in the car when you peer into his eyes.

"No. I'm not tired either," you respond, which instantly puts a smile on his face.

"Good. Let me try again."

Neither of you mentioned any of what happened within that quick span of time. No mentions of him spilling the second he got inside you or you trying to end the night to save him the embarrassment, and it turned out for the better. No awkwardness once he recovered and went back to proving his love for you. He went straight into it, thrusting at a slow pace to start you off. He held onto your hips as he leaned in and kissed all over your chest, sucking your delicate skin to leave little reminders of him for you to see in the morning.

He groans, muffled by your warm skin, when you scratch the back of his head, guiding your nails through the short hairs of his undercut and down the nape of his neck. He's purring like a satisfied cat, the soft breaths he lets out through his nose grazing your neck.

With all these good feelings comes Satoru picking up the pace. His hips meet yours a little more quickly and suddenly both of you get a little more courage to make more sound.

"Fuck," you whimper. "Satoru... S-Satoru..."

"I know..." he grunts. "I know, baby. I feel really good, too."

You just look so damn pretty, with your starry eyes and your messy hair, and the way you keep moaning his name. He has to kiss you again. Each time he kissed you before was accompanied by fireworks. This time... who knows? He certainly won't unless he gains the courage to do it once more.

He leans forward and stares deep into your eyes. The level of intimacy has doubled down and you feel like your heart is trying even harder to lurch out of your chest. He's not stopping, you can feel his breath on your lips as he pants through the exertion of his hips. Then, once again, with a whimper as he closes the distance between your mouths, he kisses you. It's not fireworks this time, it's an entire fire and you kissing him back like you need him just as much is fanning the wild flames.

"Love... you," he disperses the words through his kisses. He doesn't only say it once. He says it multiple times as your lips are moving, making those pauses purposeful. "Fuck– I love you," he repeats, breaking the kiss when you don't say anything. "Come on," he chuckles. "Say it back."

"Satoru..." you say, softly.

"You say it all the time to us. What's another time?"

You bite back a laugh when you see those brilliant eyes again. He knows the effect they have on people and uses them to his advantage.

"It doesn't..." he groans, cursing under his breath when you suddenly clench around him. "...have to mean anything more than it usually does."

You're hesitant, but figure that as long as he doesn't take it as more than what he's used to—at least until things are talked through—there can't be any harm in saying what he wants to hear.

"Love you, 'toru."

The words are way too sweet, too gentle on his ears. The smile you offered as you delivered those words was devastatingly beautiful. You've said this a million times, each time so friendly, so lovingly, the meaning never feigned or faded with its repetition, but in that moment, he felt the words more than he ever did before. Your plush thighs are pressed against his hips, your hands are on his chest, and he can still smell that perfume you spritzed on your skin before you left. He's never heard you like this before, so sultry that it almost seems like an invasion of privacy.

"Again... say it again, p-please." With the scene that is playing out before his very eyes, he wants to imagine you meaning it as a term for lovers.

"I-I..." you let out a sharp gasp, your words cut off by the feeling of his cock brushing against that weak spot within you. "I love y-you, Satoru."

You're saying it to him only, right now. It's not 'I love you guys', it's 'I love you, Satoru', and he's drowning in it all. Your voice, the words, the blissed out look on your face. He's weak.

"Yeah?" He laughs, sounding almost delirious from how good he feels and how he's trying so hard not to cum.

"Mhm," you respond.

"T-That's good to know," he says, breathily. He's picking up the pace again, almost knocking the wind out of you with that first thrust in the change of pace. You're scratching up his back, wrapping your legs around his waist while he moans into the crook of your neck.

"G-Gonna cum, gonna fucking cum, again."

"Please... cum inside," you babble, nonsensically.

"Yeah? You want it inside again?" He asks, grinning when you hum and nod in confirmation. Who is he to deny you of such a simple want?

With a few more harder thrusts, he's filling you to the brim again with his warm cum. He's breathing heavily into your neck, mouthing at your skin sloppily as your cunt flutters around him. He's babbling on and on asking you if you came and if you feel good, while you're trying not to cry out too loudly from how hard you did. It's only until he unsticks himself from your tacky skin that he sees the aftermath of your orgasm. Your lidded eyes, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your shuddered breaths brushing past your lips. He's thinking about it again. No one deserves you, but clearly, he was the closest.

He tosses himself beside you once you both come down. Your blanket is shared between the two of you, it reaches just above your chest and above Satoru's hips.

He sighs as he turns over to face you as you stare up at the ceiling. "You think they heard us?" He asks, voice low and intimate, yet a mischievous smirk that tells you he wouldn't care if they did, plays on his lips.

"Not sure. I guess we'll find out tomorrow." Now it's your turn to sigh. You don't even want to think about how weird breakfast might be in the morning.

"Hey," he calls for your attention. You turn onto your side to face him, keeping the blanket close to your body. "It's gonna be fine. What's the worst that could happen? They tease us or call us dumb?" You give him a soft smile. Normally, you're the one calling him dumb while the others agree. "Don't know about you, but I don't mind. They don't know the story, anyway. Right?"

"Right."

Time slowed down in that moment. You both just stared at each other in silence, thinking about what just happened. You were comfortable together, lying there, satisfied with your decisions. He pulled you closer by your blanket covered waist and pressed kisses into your cheek, enough to make you giggle until you started returning the kisses. To anybody, this would be considered a sight of two lovers taking care of each other after a night of intimacy. The whispered words, the quiet laughter between kisses, the gentle drags of fingers on harsh marks—it all points to love. You think things might be okay, after all.

It took a while for you and Satoru to untangle yourselves from each other. Eventually, he got up and dressed into everything but his messy boxers. You weren't going to get back into your dress so you laid back for a while and watched as he collected himself.

"Well... I'll see you in the morning." His hand is on the doorknob and he's looking at you, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body as if he's trying to memorize you all over again within the short span of his goodnight to you.

"Mhm. Goodnight."

He pulls the door open, still not detaching his gaze from you. "Goodnight," he says, his voice low, yet warm and brimming with love. He spares one more soft smile for you, before walking out and clicking the door shut behind him.

You think you finally understand why he's so hung up on the way you say goodnight.