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put-me-through-the-wall · 4 months

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Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time.

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath.

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile.

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look.

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over.

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door.

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling.

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing.

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning."

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair.

"Can you hold this for a second?"

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh.

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors.

"Ladies first"

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself.

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator.

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course.

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though.

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter.

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become.

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you.

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request.

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke.

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze.

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh.

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes.

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter.

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

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Part II

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley fic

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rebelfell · 4 months

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urgent.

eddie munson x fem!reader

"I want it to be urgent. Like you can't keep your hands off me."

Smut blurb featuring no *actual* smut, in which Eddie is doing his best to help you get over your ex. Cause that's what friends are for. Right? cw: drinking/smoking, references to sex acts.

18+ MDNI 2.8k

“Alright, that’s it. I need another.”

The cushions of Eddie’s well-worn sofa bounced beneath you as he stood, sighing as he headed to the kitchen. His shaggy hair flew up as he glanced back at you with a playful twinkle in his eye that fully betrayed his attempt to sound irate.

“Can’t believe you talked me into watching this shit,” he added with a scoff, indicating the movie flickering on his television screen.

With a quiet giggle, you tucked your legs further up underneath you and squished deeper into your seat. The smile on your face only widened when he returned carrying two new bottles, one of which he passed into your waiting hand.

He’d successfully bribed you into coming over for a long overdue movie night by texting a picture of his fridge that was almost barren except a case of your favorite beer and a couple boxes of day-old pizza captioned, “how can you resist???”

Evidently, you couldn’t. Hence your arrival at his door not even an hour later, swathed in baggy sweats and a giant hoodie without a speck of make-up on your face. Your uniform of late.

“She lives!”

He bellowed in his mad scientist best, practically dragging you through the door to wrap you up in a hug so tight it threatened to crack your bones and made your lungs ache as they attempted to draw air—as if he thought he could wring the sadness out of you like a sponge.

Admittedly, it had been too long since you’d seen him. And not just him, but any of your friends.

For weeks now, you’d been using excuses of work and needing to catch up on laundry or cleaning to avoid facing them. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see people. You just knew any attempt to hang out would only lead to questions about your recent break-up.

Questions you didn’t have the answers to, nor the mental capacity to tackle.

Eddie was a safe bet in that regard.

He’d always had what you could only call a morbid curiosity about your love life. If he asked about it, he did so in such a way that it made you feel like he was sort of dreading the answer? Like checking under a shoe to make sure a spider was really dead. You had figured that he of all people wouldn’t press you for too many details.

It was as close to a perfect evening as possible.

The remaining half of the joint you shared still sat smoldering in the ashtray on the coffee table. The two of you basked in the rosy glow of Christmas lights strung up on the walls he had yet to take down even as summer rapidly approached.

Beer and pizza sat in your belly, it and the weed only making the travesty of a bad movie you had basically bullied him into watching all the funnier.

You’d almost, almost, forgotten about your current tragic circumstances. And then…

“We can talk about it, you know,” Eddie said during a quiet stretch of the movie.

He instantly clocked the stiffening of your spine and the tensing of your shoulders he knew had nothing to do with the appearance of the killer following a side character down an alley.

“We don’t have to,” he went on, forcibly keeping his eyes forward like he was talking to the guy on screen now getting gutted, “I’m just saying if you wanted to, we could. Or we can just keep drinking and watching this garbage.”

With a laugh, he indicated the screen again.

The killer completed his deed and the wide shot revealed a painfully obvious dummy version of his victim lying on the ground beneath him. You were also pretty sure a boom mic dipped into frame.

It made you chuckle along with him and you turned your head, finding his doe eyes shining in that annoyingly endearing way of his that never failed to soften you to his whims.

“It wasn’t anything bad-bad,” you muttered, half talking to yourself. “He was just sort of…selfish.”

“Selfish how?” Eddie asked, brow knitting in confusion. “Like he hogged the covers? What?”

“No, like…”

Your cheeks burned as you stared at your hands in your lap, your thumbnail scraping against the pulpy label of your beer bottle that had begun to sweat profusely the longer it went un-drunk.

“Like in bed,” you said at last. “He didn’t ever go down on me, or do much of anything other than jump straight to fucking. And it was always over very…quick. Once he came, it was right back to business as usual. He wouldn’t check in with me or even me ask what I—”

Your voice wavered slightly and you clamped your mouth closed, forcing back the bitter taste suddenly filling your mouth. With a deep and steadying breath, you finished your thought.

“I just didn’t feel like a priority.”

The detached tone was one you’d been working on for weeks. You knew eventually you’d have to crawl out of the hole you’d banished yourself into and when you did, you would have to sound okay with the fact that you’d been burned yet again by another guy you foolishly got your hopes up for.

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. He shook his head, baffled by what he was hearing.

“Did he ever give a reason? I mean, did he…”

Eddie trailed off, not sure what he was getting at.

Because what kind of person had to be told to make their partner a priority? To make them feel important? Beyond just pleasure, beyond just making them come. How could anyone be lucky enough to land you and not do anything and everything they could to make it work?

His eyes bored into the coffee table, unable to lift his head to look you in the eye. It was hard for you to read the expression on his face. It looked like a cocktail of all the different things you had felt during your isolation. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. Disgust. Pity.

“We talked about it.” I talked about it, you wanted to say. “But he wasn’t interested in changing, so I said we should end it. And we did.”

Your words seemed to hang in the air after you said them. Eddie stayed silent a few moments longer, seemingly deep in thought. The movie played on, but the words and pictures both sort of blurred into static neither of you were paying much attention to anymore.

“That’s awful,” he said at last. “I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Your eyes darted up, surprised by the softness in his voice. The soothing, calming reassurance thing was much more Nancy’s speed. You knew Eddie could be sweet, but it was always buried under a million layers of sarcasm the same way he hid himself behind the armor of his leather jacket and denim vest. By the look on his face, he’d surprised himself as well.

“He’s a fuckin’ loser,” he grumbled, almost angry. “You were right to dump him.”

“Maybe,” you sighed back, staring down at your lap again. The swishing of Eddie’s curls told you he was shaking his head emphatically.

“There’s no maybe about it,” he insisted, tipping his beer back to take a long swig. “If he doesn’t appreciate someone like you he doesn’t deserve to be with anyone, s’far as I’m concerned.”

The tiniest smile emerged on your lips when you heard the little southern drawl that crept into his voice whenever he got a bit worked up. It makes him sound like his uncle Wayne grumbling about the noisy neighborhood kids or “those damn bureaucrats with their burea-crock-a-shits.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding weakly. “I know it was the right decision and all, I just…it all feels so fucking hopeless. Even if I find another guy who seems nice, who knows if he’ll stay that way? I don’t want to just fuck a bunch of frogs on the off-chance one of them is a prince.”

Eddie snorted, nearly spraying the sip of beer he’d just taken out of his nose as you went on.

“The worst part is I’m so, like…”

You shook your head as you laughed in disbelief, hiding your face with your hand as it flushed with heat at what you had almost blurted out. Were you really about to say this?

His brown eyes danced under arched brows. He smirked, daring you to say it. Fuck it.

“I’m so pent up, my vibrator is gonna file a complaint for hazardous working conditions.”

“Maybe you need a new vibrator,” Eddie suggested. Or someone new behind the wheel.

You shoved his shoulder playfully, wide smiles spreading across both your faces. He grabbed at your wrist, wrestling your hand away and bringing it towards his mouth, feigning like he was going to bite. Squealing giggles erupted out of you as you pulled it back and he gnashed at the air.

Breathless from laughing, you settled back into your seat and inhaled deeply a few times trying to catch your breath. Eddie brought his hands back to his lap and looked down, allowing a small smile at seeing your face light up like it just had.

He’d do anything to see you like that.

“I will say,” you started, absently drawing circles on the arm of the couch, avoiding his gaze as his eyes jumped to your face, “It would be so great to get, like…one good night. You know, just scratch the itch so I can think clearly for once.”

Eddie paused, mulling again.

What he meant to say was…what if it was with someone you knew? Someone familiar you were comfortable with? Someone you knew you could trust to take care of you? What if it was someone you had known a long time, who cared about you and would put you first the way you deserved?

But the words that actually came out were—

“I could do it.”

“You…what?”

He knows that sound. That nervous, breathy little exhale that just came out of you. You blinked at him, stunned into silence as you tried to figure out if he was being serious. Eddie shrugged.

“I’m just saying, you don’t want to fuck a stranger. And I’m certainly not a stranger, so…”

He gestured vaguely at himself with his hands, a goofy little movement that had you rolling your eyes and tssing at him through your teeth.

“Eddie, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not being stupid!” he exclaimed, only to stop and reconsider. “Okay, fine, maybe I am. But I'm also being serious. You’re my friend and I wanna help you out. However I can.”

“You seriously think…” You shook your head. “I mean, are you even attracted to me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he groaned, “is that even a question?”

“No, Ed, I’m serious. Really think about it.”

So, Eddie thought about it.

He thought about that two-piece you wore that one sticky-hot summer day when you all piled into he and Argyle’s vans and drove out to Lover’s Lake to swim. He thought about how he had to keep reminding himself not to stare and how his shorts got so uncomfortably tight until he had to fuck off into the trees for ten minutes to take care of himself. And how when he got back, he had endured everyone’s teasing about taking a shit in the woods—because he would much rather they thought that was what he was doing instead of jerking off in front of some voyeuristic squirrel.

He thought about the way your lips wrapped around the end of every joint he’d ever shared with you and how his heart would race when you asked him for a shotgun. He thought about that one time he was sick as shit and had that fever dream about you in a nurses outfit he’d torn off you piece by piece, kissing you all over your body until you were writhing underneath him crying out his name until he woke with a violent jolt and had to throw his sheets in the wash at 4am.

And now not only was he extremely sure he was attracted to you, he also had a significant piece of evidence to back up his claim.

“I think it’s safe to say I am,” he chuckled, shifting in his seat.

Your eyes flitted down to his lap and you inhaled sharply at the sight of his growing bulge and the piss-poor job his thin sweats did of concealing it. Your cheeks burned just thinking about it and you simply had to laugh at the absurdity. If only it hadn’t come out so breathy and nervous…

“What about you?” he asked, his voice lowering to a suggestive timbre as he scooted in closer. “Are you attracted to me? Really think about it.”

Your pulse thrummed as your eyes scanned him, taking in every detail. Cutoff sleeves that showed off his taught arms, inked all over with scratcher tattoos. Narrow hips sort of mesmerizing in the way they swiveled whenever he played guitar on stage. Fingers that moved dazzlingly fast over the strings and had made you wonder on more than one occasion what it might feel like for him to play Master of Puppets on your pussy.

It made your mouth flood with saliva, and other wetness gush between your legs.

“What if…we kissed?” he asked slowly, his eyes locked so intently on your lips you could almost feel the heat of his gaze on them. “Just to see? Just in case?”

In case of what?

You wanted to ask, but the words didn’t come. You were too breathless as he drew you in.

You’ve seen Eddie kiss girls before.

Whether it was out at a random dive bar after his band played, or some house party in a house you didn’t recognize. You’ve seen how he cups their faces in his hands, large grasp nearly engulfing their entire head. You’ve seen the way his eyes hooded and how that insufferably smug, knowing smile of his turns up the corners of his mouth as he goes in for the kill. You’ve seen how his fingers spread wide to cradle their heads as they gave into him and felt the way it made something stir, however briefly, deep in the pit of your belly.

But you’ve never been that girl. It’s never been your face in his hands or your lips parting, waiting for the touch of his. And now that it’s happening…you don’t have any idea why you waited so long.

His mouth is gentler than you thought it would be, his lips soft and smooth as two pink petals of some flower you can’t name. You can feel the distinctness of their shape moving against your own and can still taste the malt of your favorite beer in his mouth, but the combination makes it into something new—something unlike anything you’ve ever tasted before.

You can just barely feel the tip of his tongue swiping at the entrance of your lips and it’s purely instinctual the way you open up for him to grant him access. He moans softly into your mouth, a plaintive little noise that sets your blood on fire. Suddenly, you’re possessed. Fisting his shirt in your grasp, dragging him with you as you lean backwards and sink deep into the cushions.

“I take it we’ve got the green light?” he asks in a throaty chuckle.

You answer by pulling him into another kiss, tangling your fingers in the hairs that run along the nape of his neck, twisting his curls in your grasp as you tug him back onto your mouth.

His hand wandered downwards, dipping into your sweats to cup your heat over your panties, his two middle fingers stroking at the arousal gathering there. His touch is teasingly light and yet he has you held firmly in his grasp, just enough to have you mewling into his mouth seeking more.

“Tell me exactly how you want it,” he groaned as he peppered hot kisses along the column of your throat, his voice soft but solid. “I want it to be just what you need. Just how you like it.”

You swallowed hard, struggling to form coherent thoughts with his teeth nipping so sweetly at your neck, and all the rings on his fingers pressing into your skin as he squeezed the curve of your waist. And through the haze his touch and teeth and lips created in your head, you managed an answer.

“I…I want it to be urgent. Like you can’t keep your hands off of me,” you sucked in another breath, “Like I’m all you’ve ever wanted.”

Eddie’s head lifted and you tensed just slightly under his reverent gaze. His eyes drifted across your face, all round and glassy and searching, as if he was trying to memorize every inch.

And then, as immediately as he’d paused, he was burying his face in your neck again, body grinding into yours with a newfound sense of desperation as he growled out a single word,

“Done.”

thank you for reading :) love you, mean it!

continued here

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut

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fauustic · 1 year

Text

late night bubble bath

((oh yeah the brainrot has hit HARD!!! IM IN LOVE!!! please send me asks / requests about miguel o’hara i might just melt ...))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

comfort, fluff. a needy miguel who is just a big kitty.

warnings: mention of wounds, very little blood. taking care of him after a night of insomnia. use of spanish pet names, yet a translator helped me because my spanish isn’t the best. lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 3027

A sigh escapes your lips as you shakily grasp the cup of water along your bedside table. You weren't one to have intense insomnia, yet the anxiety bubbling within your gut served as a painful reminder that you haven't been blessed with a moment of shuteye.

Was it something you had forgotten? You ran through a mental checklist that consisted of taking after Miguel's late nights, and not a single chore was unfinished.

Leftovers for dinner could be found neatly packed away in the place he always checks in the fridge, so there was no need for your love returning from work hungry and tired. Today's laundry was already fluffed and ironed, which will make it easier to begin the upcoming morning. Miguel mentioned off-handedly to you how an important board meeting at his lab had been stressing him out, so you couldn't help but surprise him when he got back home even if it was just prepared outfits.

You leaned back against your pillow before rolling towards Miguel's side of your queen sized bed. You felt so jumpy, your hands itching to do anything. Nights like these you craved Miguel's presence tenfold, as he would be snuggled right in your arms, smoothing the stress out from the tips of your fingers through a careful massage. You could remember the sleepy rambles he'd murmur into the air over the ambience of the television, "Pasar tiempo contigo, brillante. Encantador. Mi pequeño amor. Could bask in your presence always, mi conejito." Miguel would whisper into your ears with a cute sleepiness, peppering your jaw with his lips. It's almost as if he was right beside you, brushing his thumb against your skin as he held your hands.

Thinking so fondly of your boyfriend's habits soothed the anxiety of your insomnia as you tried to remind yourself that he always stays safe and remembers you love him. Once coming home for the first time from work, he can't help but smother you in kisses and silly pet names, showering you in soft reminders of how much love and affection he has for you. And then the second time of the night, he'd do the same thing under different circumstances. It had happened the night before, and it'll happen again.

Miguel, soft groans escaping his bruised lips, would come through the balcony of your shared apartment that stored your little collection of flowers and greenery, slip through the door you always made sure to crack, and wake you up in the dead of the night to be bandaged and treated by your caring touch with hushed pleas. Whispering sweet things, neediness in every touch. "I missed you, cariño. Been waiting to see your pretty face all day, can I kiss you? P-please, let me kiss you."

And so you did, resting your fingers on his shoulders and slowly trailing up until they cupped his bloodied face by the jaw. Then, you'd painstakingly kiss him until his blood would mix with spit, his fangs desperately wanting to sink into your tongue.

Getting so caught up in your little dream, the blaring of a shrill beeping car down below your apartment startled you. Interrupting the glass upon your lips, it spilled onto your nightgown with a gasp.

"Fuck.." you mumbled to yourself, missing your boyfriend more than ever. Changing in a rush, you pulled over one of his flimsy lounge shirts over your head to bask in his smell as a reminder of his presence.

Nueva York was a city that didn't sleep, as the chatter of passersby rang through busy traffic. Bars down below thrived under the limelight, people not in their right mind hid in the shadows of skyscrapers.

You wondered what Miguel could be doing right now. Scouting the vibrant lights as his claws dug into the beam of a building? Knocking someone senseless under the conditions of justice? Saving a civilian as they fall from great heights?

Wondering made you sick, the anxiety bubbling in your stomach as if you were the one downing margaritas and cocktails in a scummy bar down below. You needed to distract yourself. So you did anything an adult on a late night would do.

So when you finally came to your senses, you slapped a flour dusted hand over your mouth and groaned.

Apron tied to your waist, hair in a loose bun– nothing too serious, in fact you appreciated how this style still kept your androgynous but still staying practical. Wisps of hair straying from the hold would cloud your vision every now and then, which you'd have to blow out of the way subconsciously while preparing the whipped frosting. The TV, distantly able to still be heard from the living room, echoed quietly through the apartment with an ambience that lulled you to a calm. It was the news, you couldn't help yourself due to late night paranoia, but your hands were busy and your attention was snatched away from your beloved creation.

You've truly outdone yourself this time, you decide as you watch the oven in front of you with an exhausted gaze and a yawn. The kitchen was messy with egg residue and splashes of water and vinegar oil, the clock on the microwave read "2:49" in the morning. It was a kind of chaos you normally wouldn't find yourself to, as Miguel loved a schedule, a routine. It wasn't as if he didn't want you to have your fun, far from that, he simply just loved doing whatever was eventful with you. And you couldn't help but find baking amusing as you observed the small cakes in the shaped pans inflate as time went on.

You found yourself in the middle of your small apartment kitchen floor, sleepily peering into the oven until that sleepiness shifted into fully dozing off. It couldn't be helped, crashing so hard after pulling off a mission to pump out more than a dozen cupcakes, half chocolate batter and the rest strawberry flavoring. Thankfully, you were able to stay awake long enough to take the cakes out to cool, but as soon as the oven made the beep to turn off– the couch was the closest thing to fall into a needed rest.

It's hard to know how long you had exactly fallen asleep for, yet the frantic arms encompassing your form must have been any kind of indicator. It was a startle to wake from, as your mouth couldn't keep quiet before your brain began working.

"Eeugh! I- God Miguel, you scared me so badly–" You heaved into his shoulder as he practically slumped on top of you, whispering his usual panicky tangents he'd spew after returning from his late nights.

"Lo siento, lo siento mucho." Miguel buried his face into your neck, nose pushing against your pulse. "Would never purposely scare you, mi lucero del alba. But not seeing you in bed, that made me feel… not like myself." Miguel confessed with a shaky breath and a pause, breathing in the floury smell and just you, swearing a purr erupted from his throat. "Would have fallen on the floor of our apartment if you weren't here, in my arms. "Te necesito más que al propio aire, baby."

A subtle smile peeked through his tone despite the desperation, the longing in his touch. His forearms pushed against your back ever so slightly, reminding himself that you're here. That you're safe. His hands met your sides, thumbs circling in a soothing motion. You knew it calmed him down to trace shapes within your skin, but you wouldn't be lying if you said you loved the burn of his touch when he isn't even truly doing anything on purpose. It was as if the warmth of his finger tips ignited into flames, searing his touch into you. You'll never be able to forget each circle, heart, or even a very rare star traced into your skin, accompanying every freckle or birthmark you have. Every part of you is adored, loved, cherished.

"I'm going to be here, waiting for you. No matter where you are or where I have to be."

"I hope so." Miguel hummed, "If anything happens to you," His claws found themselves underneath his shirt that you wore to bed that night, trailing your sides like handing a delicate doll. "Tengo miedo de lo que pueda hacerles. For you I'd do anything."

His body didn't feel suffocating to be lying beneath, as he cradled the both of you to be meeting halfway. It was heartwarming, being clung to like a teddy bear by a man who's trying to hold up an entire city with his own two hands.

You realized his suit was only partially off, head uncovered as well as part of his chest– the suit clung to his waist like a lifeline. Needing to see his soft little smile that he held so selfishly against your neck, you led his face to be held over yours. A soft whine escaped his lips, missing the warmth your neck provided, but a quick hush quieted himself easily.

"Don't act like a sad puppy, my love." You whispered into his lips, breath fanning an old cut just underneath. Inspecting the damage, Miguel's eyes fluttered shut as you smoothed over the stress lines between his eyebrows. Not too rough today, expect a few cuts and bruises. So in your terms and conditions, today may even be considered a great day. "Aww, look at you. You did so well today, didn't you?" Awarding him with a kiss, Miguel melted into you like a weighted blanket.

Both hands cupping his jaw, you held him there for a long while, relishing in the moments of peace and quiet with him. Peppering quick, feathery kisses over his lips and gliding over cheekbones and freckles upon the nose, kissing the stress line you smoothed out, before doing the routine all over again. You strayed, always did– couldn't resist his alluring features and soft pleas to continue kissing him.

Miguel isn't always so docile. Some nights he'd storm into your bedroom in a trance of pent-up frustration and stress with bruising kisses and bites that took home amongst hidden skin. But most nights, he could be handled like putty. It was an adorable sight to see, as his fangs peeked through his plush lips from the tension going slack in his jaw.

Your lips finally met his for the first time that night, yet it wasn't heated or filled with ulterior motives. Miguel's mouth met yours, and he lazily tasted every inch of your mouth, grazing his fangs against your tongue by accident. He needed to know every inch of you, and remind himself a hundred times over.

"Miggy.." you mumbled between his kisses, and happiness dripped from your voice as he barely let out a "mm?" Separating for just a moment, he decided to simply nuzzle your hand as a substitute.

"Let me run you a bath."

This sparked his attention, a quirk of the eyebrow and a stare of disbelief. "Eh?" Miguel chuckled stiffly, his nuzzles coming to an abrupt end. "¿Qué piensas de mí, un niño pequeño? I'm no toddler." By his response, he hasn't heard such things in ages. But as you slipped away from underneath his grasp, you padded towards your shared bathroom without a word. He was the one to bicker, but once the plan was in motion Miguel couldn't help but abide with a light begrudge in his step.

"The little cakes can wait, honey. Don't try to use those as an argument to get out of this." Your words would come out as a scold to anyone else, but as you turned to start the water it was clear you simply just cared. Too much for your own good. "Let me just do this for you, I missed you today." You admitted.

"It's too late for this still, cariño." He groaned with a tint of guilt as you started helping him undress. "I'll just shower, go on. Vete a dormir." Yet he did not swat away your advancements to prepare a towel, nor even the drop of bubble bath mix in the water. Miguel looked at you like a deer in headlights, mouth agape as you did so.

"I added the bubble bath formula only because you told me to sleep." You said deadpan, grabbing the suit that's fallen to the floor to hang it on the rack. Miguel's expressions contorted to annoyed, then shocked, to just downright amused of your antics that always had him guessing. He cackled as you kept yourself busy, until you finally signaled to get in.

It was as if you tried to get a cat in the water, as he stared at the mountain of bubbles that rivalled the skies. "I'm not getting in. I can't lose the rest of my dignity." This time, his tone was solid– nothing sounded as if it could get through to him. But you could read your boyfriend like a book, solve him like a puzzle in a matter of seconds.

"Miggy, my love. My other half. My everything." You cooed, dropping to your knees to poke at the bubbles. "You don't get in this forsaken bathtub with just the right warmth and the bubbles I made with my own blood, sweat and tears, you will sleep on the couch until I give you explicit permission to lay with me." His scarlet eyes glowed with genuine fear in his eyes. "And then, you will just lie with me. You would not be able to hold my hands or waist or twirl your finger around my hair– you will be in timeout. No bed, no holding–"

A splash interrupted your words, wetting your legs as his size struggled to stay in the tub. His arm hung out of the side as his feet kicked up on the tile walls, and he looked as flustered as ever. "No me lo puedo creer." Miguel blew at the bubbles that settled on his face. "I'm no dog who needs a bath, cariño."

Shaking your head at his rare childish antics, you leaned over the tub to kiss the bubbles upon his nose. It was a sweet, domestic little moment between the two of you.

Small little scars littered his form as you glided a soft wash cloth over the grime of the city that washed off onto him. When the fabric slid over a sensitive muscle or wound, he'd hiss a curse and a "be gentle with me, love." You only responded with a lick into his mouth, which earned you a bite to your lips. "I'm not trying to hurt you, just wanna take care of you, my angel." You whispered into the bubbles, shuffling your knees the closest you can to the tub without falling into it– and massaged the tension in his shoulders.

This elicited a groan to rip through the bathroom walls, a low rumble that he couldn't contain to himself following. Miguel was like a domesticated tiger, all bark and bite yet the rare moments of silly tenderness peeking through his rough exterior. "Ah, that feels–" Miguel hisses again in pleasure, his brain short circuiting under your graze. ".. increíble. Tú eres mi medicina."

His forearm hanging off the side of the tub twisted to bring his grasp to your face, locking the both of you into a heated kiss, one that stored the unspoken words of lonely nights as Miguel's shifts grew longer and more tiresome. "Missed you, baby. I need you, need you always with me. Wouldn't know what to do without you, I'd go crazy." He rambled as one of your soap filled hands snaked into his hair, to lather his curls and simultaneously scratch where he loves.

It was an endearing sight whenever Miguel openly expressed his adoration of you, both his thoughts and worries.

"I love you more, Miguel." You giggled as his nose scrunched together at the abrupt sensation of water cascading over his head, the bubbles falling from the softness of his hair and down the ridges of his jaw and nose.

Silence comfortably enveloped the two of you as you rinsed him off, scattering kisses on his skin whenever he mumbled declarations of affection.

As you wrapped his curls in a soft, small towel, his sleepy grumble of a question caught your attention. "What about your little sweets, mi amor? Do you need me to help you finish them?"

Laughing, you shook your head only to shush him softly. "No, no baby. Let's just do it together tomorrow once you get some rest." Leading him to stand, you began draining the tub.

Miguel didn't argue with the idea of that, purring softly as he imagined the two of you frosting little delicacies– something incredibly cozy and lovely. He loved that about you, the way you reminded him about his own humanity, the little hanging reminder that he needs his own time to help to heal and thrive.

"All done, baby." You slid your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest with a sigh. The towel hung around his waist was as soft as the fleece of a sheep, lulling you into the serene sleepiness your body craved to have. "How was your bubble bath?" The words tumbled from your lips as Miguel led the both of you to your shared bed, tucking you into the bundle of blankets scattering about.

Before long, he slid into the opposite side with his own sigh of relief. Your hands grabbed at his now clothed chest, peeking at his exhausted, but content expression staring right back at your own. "Perfect, mi conejito." Miguel whispered with honesty, bringing you closer than ever as his breath fanned the crook of your neck.

Sleep began to take you as the strong scent of bubblegum flooded your senses, the slightly damp curls of Miguel tickling your neck and cheek. He intertwined his soul with yours, purring with a calm he could only achieve with you.

"Cupcakes tomorrow?" You murmured into his shoulder, soft and sleepy.

"Cupcakes tomorrow, cariño." A kiss to your neck. "Dulces sueños, goodnight."

#miguel o'hara #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara comfort #miguel o'hara fluff #x gender neutral reader #x fluff #x comfort #comfort #fluff

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voxisdaddy · 7 months

Text

Veets

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Chocolatier!Overlord!Reader

Type: Headcanons

Featuring: Alastor, Carmilla, Velvette, Valentino

In which Vox got the Vee’s a collaboration with hells greatest chocolatier.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ For a guy who likes his coffee black, he surprisingly liked to enjoy the occasional sweets every now and then.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ His go-to was a chocolate bar from (Company name). He enjoyed the chocolate treat so much he actually had his team reach out to the company for a possible deal of some kind-just so Vox can have a jar of that chocolate he really likes sitting on his desk when he does his nightly talk show. Something to snack on in between commercial breaks.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lmao yeah the company said ‘no’. May or may not have bruised Vox’s ego. His company is VoxTek! That’s like the largest television and tech company in all of Pride! A chance to feature your products on his show? Wasted opportunity if you ask him.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Despite the initial frustration with the lack of legal approval to feature (company name)’s on the show, Vox didn’t let it get to him that much. I mean, it’s just chocolate. This is different from a brand deal of some sorts. If he were to work with that bitch Carmila Carmine, that would be different. Besides, Vox stills keeps a chocolate bar or two under his desk or next to him where the cameras won’t catch any sight of it. He can just snack when theirs commercial break. No big deal.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Besides, making a deal with them would probably mean promoting their general business and other products, rather than the chocolate bar-which is like the only thing he cares about.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Ah yes, another extermination. Another meeting with the other Overlords. Vox hated going to these meetings. But alas, Valentino always flat out refused to go, and he can really only rely on Velvette going to represent the Vee’s if she was in a particularly good mood or Vox absolutely could not go for whatever reason.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ While Vox sat in his chair, he could feel certain waves in the air crack and go staticky-Alastor. Vox internationally groaned. Great. Every since that bambi fucker came back, they’d start seeing each other at these meetings again.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Alastor sounded like he was in conversation with someone. Not that Vox cared, but he noted that Zestial and Rosie were already present in the room so whomever Alastor was chatting to did peak Vox’s interests somewhat. Good lord is this man obsessed with the old radio man.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Then the door pushed open and in came Alastor, the creepy smiling fuck, with someone lovely next to him.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The fuck?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Was this a new overlord? No, no. Vox would have for sure heard about them. You don’t become an overlord without making a name for yourself after all.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox gave the duo a puzzled look as they sat next to each other, right next to Rosie.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “(Y/n). It’s so good to see you after so long, old friend.” Carmilla Carmine greeted you.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ As Vox would come to find out in this meeting, turns out you had been an overlord for quite some time. How he never seen you at these meetings, never even heard of you, and never heard anyone mention you was baffling to him to say the least.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It wasn’t until after the meeting when Vox would approach you. He put on his charming facade, an act he’s used to slipping in and out of for whenever the occasion calls for it, and held out a clawed hand.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Your name is what again? Oh you’re usually too busy running your company so you never make the meetings? Oh well, he runs a company too! VoxTek, you heard of them? Uh huh yeah what company do you run?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ -MOTHERFUCKING (COMPANY NAME)?!?!?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ His screen may or may not have glitched at this new information. He also may or may have not asked for your personal number-for business!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Despite you both having busy schedules, he still likes finding time to hang out with you on perhaps a phone call or video call-whatever you’re comfortable with. He admits to himself that you’re not only quite a lovely sight but a delight as well.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’d keep tabs on your company. You, yourself was quite difficult. Because much to Vox’s pure annoyance, your company doesn’t use VoxTek appliances. Meaning he can’t hack shit and spy on you! God damnit!

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cue Vox unwrapping his favourite chocolate bar and eating it angrily as he looks through the very few pictures he’s found of you online.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Curse you. Your company rejected his offer. You hid yourself so well from him unintentionally. You were so hidden from the public that you were deemed untouchable. You HAD to be buddy buddy with Alastor. And you HAD to be fucking attractive! “Fuck you!” Vox threw the half eaten bar at a screen with your face on it. He didn’t mean it though.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He would never ever admit this to anyone but like a week later he spent 30 minutes walking in circles around the Vee’s lounge area. May or may not have been hyping himself up to call you. May or may have not noticed Valentino and Velvette walk in. And they may or may not think it’s hilarious that Vox is too nervous to fucking call you.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “I’m not nervous.” Vox chuckles though Val and Vel immediately catching onto the obvious lie. One look at the slip of paper Vox was holding in his fingers, your number, and Velvette had already dialed it into his phone before handing it off to him.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Fuck you!” He flips a quick finger at her.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ With very little, reasonable, options Vox talks to you as confidently as he could. When you respond with questions why a sudden call to your personal number, he quickly mentions wanting to organize a business meeting with you; “For business…. Talk. Meeting… business… stuff.” He wants to slam his screen against a fucking rock. Valentino finds it fucking hilarious and pathetic. Velvette’s recording the whole thing on her phone-mumbling something about blackmail to Valentino.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ To his pleasure, you agree and before either of you know it, you’re sitting at his table in some oversized aquarium of a meeting room.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “What did you want to discuss?” You don’t leave any room for small talk, wanting to get down to business.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox had spent the past few weeks putting together some pitches that could have you at least satisfied with the meeting. Truth be told, the meeting was an excuse to see you again-and in person. After going through some pitches, some of them his team came up with, he made a mental note to fire whoever made these pitches cuz my god did you not seem interested in any of them.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ At least with that out of the way, you could make have some time to just talk, right? Like the pitches, Vox spent some time thinking about what he’d even say to you in casual conversation. As well as played with the idea of asking you out. He knows he’s suave and all that but his own body betrayed him with glitches and little electrical shocks whenever he would overheat.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Growing a bit desperate, considering this is the first time he’s seen you in person since the overlord meeting MONTHS ago, he decided to shoot his shot. He knows he could play it off-even if his body betrays him he could always casually blame it on maybe a software update or something. Sure that’s a bit humiliating but it’s somewhat better, right?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Valentines Day is next month.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Oh my god what the fuck was he doing

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ The way you simply look at him and silently urge him to continue has his fans picking up speed. They feel so loud in his head he’s almost certain you hear them too.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Just ask her. Just ask her. Just ask her-

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “If you don’t have any plans, I’d like to propose ayyyyyy….” he trails off, suddenly getting cold feet, “ayyyyyy a collaboration! With the Vee’s!”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ And that’s how the Vee’s got a popsicle deal. It released alongside your companies Valentine Chocolates, and other sweets and goods.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ At least getting on your good side, you allowed some of your products to be showcased on his talk show.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ oh and you accepted his offer to appear as a special guest on his show! Mainly to promote the ‘Veets’ treats though. He mentally celebrated the ratings this episode was gonna get. You hardly showed your face anywhere or even spoke to the public. This was kind of a big deal. You were the CEO of hells most beloved and largest chocolate factory after all.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ As the show went to commercial break, Vox turned to you to see you lick and slurp on the ‘Voxsicle.’

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Despite how short notice Veets was, I’m proud to say these came out marvellously well.” Vox barely hears those words come out of your mouth despite him looking at your, well, mouth.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Damn… that’s kinda hot though.

This came out sooooooo much longer than I intended too omg 😭

These are unrelated to the draft reveal post but this hit with like a truck and I couldn’t get the inspiration out of my head. Thanks for reading! Likes + Reblogs appreciated♥︎

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox x reader Hazbin Hotel

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auragasmics · 3 months

Text

LICK ME LIKE A LOLLIPOP!

𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 cw: 1.8k, drabble format, teasing, cunnilingus

Guilty…oh it’s so guilty but you can’t help it.

It’s your favorite movie on the living room television but you really can’t help it.

There, in the corner of your eye is a scene so innocent but a sight so sinful of Toji eating a lollipop. He’s so mindless with it, it’s almost so cute. But what wrings that adorable sense of joy into a dry, thirsty reality is the way his lips lock around the pink bulb, focusing all his attention down to a point.

Or maybe it’s the way your ear tunes into the delightful hums he sings whenever his mouth fills with the sweet confections, all to be washed away by a single ‘gulp’.

Your thighs have never been folded so tightly and your hands have never braced the black decorative pillow until tonight—a movie night at home, per Toji’s suggestion.

How could he sit there—a man such as he suckling on that confections knob of sugar without a care.

“Um…Toji, I thought you didn’t like sugary candy?”

Before paying you a glance, he pried the pink lollipop from his jaw, leaving nothing but the glimmering wisps of spit to drip from his lips.

“I grabbed it from the bank today and forgot it was in my pocket. Used to love them when I was younger. Why…you want some?”

“No, I don’t think sharing lollipops are—”

“Aww, why not? You can just pretend it’s my d—”

“Okay! T-Thank you, Toji. I’ll have a taste then,” you sigh, leaning towards his beckoning side.

His chiseled arm laced around your shoulder, his hand bracing along its curve. The tips of his fingers softly traced along your pried jaw. His own sights bounced between the unfolding scene of your big, fluttering doe eyes calling out to meet his gaze and the sinking of the sweetened orb finally resting along the flat of your tongue.

A wicked grin cracked along Toji’s lips, hiding his pleased whims against the curve of your ear.

“That’s my good girl. You look so pretty using your tongue fr’ me.”

“Toji!” The squealing shout bringing his grin to a full-hearted smile. Toji could simply react, his arms encircling you in an embrace and his cheek smothered against your own.

“Oh I’m sorry Princess, just got a flashback in my head. I’ll behave like I promised.”

Shamefully, you nodded to his words as you gave into his warmth.

“Mm…my turn!” Toji chimed as he pinched the lollipop stick between two fingers.

Your eyes watched as he tugged the candy from your lips and back into his own, the tip of his tongue swirling about the polished sweet.

Seconds turned into minutes and those very minutes turned into the passing scenes of the movie on the screen. Toji earned your attention far quicker than the film, a fact that he could no longer ignore.

“Alright, you’ve been watching me more than the movie—and it’s your favorite…what’s up, Dollface?” Toji finally interjected. Toji’s full attention was placed onto you, that damned lollipop standing within his thick digits.

Widened eyes and a parting gap filled your lips as you stumbled upon some words to fill the silence.

“I…don’t know…what to say…I just…want some.”

“If you wanted some more, you could’ve asked. Here—”

You caught Toji’s wrist as he returned the lollipop to your lips, the sticky bulb pecking against your lips.

“I don’t want that right now. I just…since when did you eat candy like that?”

The arch in his brow spoke more for Toji than what his fumbling words could. He returned the lollipop back into the wrapper sitting on the glass coffee table, folding what’s left between the colorful wax paper. With his attention clear, Toji brought his full visage to you with a newly placed smirk.

“Huh? I’m just…I see what’s goin’ on here.”

“Hm? What’s going on—”

Before you could even finish your words, Toji was already ways ahead of you. With just a blink of an eye, he had your back pressed and arching against the arm of his couch and your chest smothered along the thick hull of his own.

It was one thing to be beneath Toji at his own whim, but bearing the heft of the accompanying stare was nothing short of stupefying. It comes without a call for regard, but yet you can’t help but forfeit your attention to him and him alone.

All his fascinations about you—the wants and desires crowd about the darkening blue hues of his eyes and consume his whole being. He’s even eager enough to close the distance that much more, pitting the very thumps of his heart to fade along your enveloped chest.

All that stains the thick air is the staggering breaths clogging the lungs of you and Toji alike, growing until his confidence reaches the peak to finally speak.

“You don’t have a problem with me eating this candy—hell, you don’t even care about any of that. You’ve got that look in your eye that I love.”

“And what look might that be?”

And of course, you didn’t need Toji to tell you—you already knew. It’s that look when stubbornness and determination form the thinnest of silver lines, careful not to cross each other’s boundaries. When your eyes peer up to meet his own, your pupils grow to encapsulate to contain all that tension down to a single point.

The look of desire.

And of course Toji knows that look all too well—he fell for it the very night you met and put a ring on your finger under a year later. It’s because the second you pass those eyes his way, he can’t help but give in to you.

“The look of you wanting something. Y’know what I like to say—Whatever my pretty girl wants, she gets. So…what do you want, Princess?”

The weathered palm of his hands brace at your waist, the pads rubbing at the supple skin as he makes a path to slot himself between your thighs.

Toji’s glare flickered, the tips of his fingers drifting along the lacy triangle front of your panties as your voice lovely warbles out some facade.

“Hm? You know I hate mumbling, Sweetheart. But I think I heard you want some attention, right?”

“That’s not what I said.”

Toji shot a stifling glare back towards you, “So then what did you say?”

A silence fell over you as you searched for the unnecessary words. Nothing more had to be said at this point, except for the couch’s springs aching out as it bared the shifting weight of your lifted hips for Toji’s subtle tug at your intertwined pair of black shorts and blush pink panties. Your eyes followed his movements, the slow pull of clothing down your legs and to being tossed out into the dark oblivion of the living room.

Toji’s cheek sank along your thigh as he waited for a response, his hands taking hold of the supple plush to trap you in his hold. “Exactly, you don’t need to say or think of anything, Princess. Just let me take care of you, ‘kay?”

The soft curve of Toji’s pout is the gentlest of sensations to pool at your navel and pull the mellowest of gasps from your lips. Just a kiss, a luscious one that’s carefully met by the timid bud of your clit.

But he’s only this kind with you for a single minute. And in that single minute, he’s peppering those sweet kisses everywhere as nothing as a courtesy—an introduction, really. The moment sixty seconds pass, his courteous nature sheds away.

Why, once Toji makes the mistake of absorbing the poor, pink bulb between his lips…he’s a man lost to lust. He can’t help but to induce a suckling tug along your clit, relishing the swelling throbs to strum within his mouth. Just to spite you, Toji lets the bundle of nerves greet the frigid air for a second as he takes a moment to observe the mess he’s made of you.

The tips of his fingers wander from the crease of your thigh to graze at the sopping slit of your pussy, begging for attention.

“Mm, n-no hands, Toji. Just keep doin that, please?” You broke out carefully.

He shot you a glare, a particular one at that—a leering gaze, one riddle with spite.

“I gotcha, no hands tonight.”

His words didn’t settle the worry brewing at your core. He’s agreed but knowing Toji, your terms would work out in his favor.

Yet, your thoughts ran dry the moment Toji pressed his cheek back along your inner thigh. Just by the swirl of his tongue, he’s pulled you back down into ecstasy with a breathy moan.

His tongue’s been waiting all the same to taste you, making no haste to delve between your folds at last. As eager as Toji is, he’s sure to catch every drop of your essence, allowing your honeyed pussy to meld into his senses.

When he’s ready to start all over, he lets his jaw come to a slow close as he drags the flat of his tongue from your hole back up to the puffy hood. He’s even keeping his eyes glued above, ensuring that you’re watching just how lazily he reels your twitching clit back into his care.

“Fuck…I wanna touch you s’ bad,” Toji whimpers out as he pulls away for a breath. The pads of his thumb drag along the puffy lips of your pussy, his touching lingering just beside the glossy bulb. “But if my lady says no hands…”

“N-No, you can use your hands now, Toji…please,” you whine, flashing a weak yet coaxing smile towards him.

Yet your pleas fall on deaf ears as Toji returns to his ministrations. He really had no intention of touching you—just like you instructed. It didn’t help that his eyes remained pinned with yours, those blue hues mocking your growing misery. But you truly couldn’t take it, that knot in your belly reaching desperate heights.

In the corner of his eye, Toji’s catching the rarest of phenomenons: your legs trembling in his care. It’s something he knows you try to control out of some temperance, but tonight must be his lucky night.

“If you keep moving like that, I can’t focus on you, Pretty,” he hums, pulling away from your folds with a lewd ‘pop’.

“Then I guess you’ll have to touch me, right?”

“But it’s more fun if I don’t. I mean, this is what you wanted. Got all jealous ‘nd needy over a piece of candy and now you can’t take it…tsk-tsk-tsk, that’s not like you, Baby,” his words marked by a greedy grin.

All that could chime from your blubbering lips were whimpers, the ones that made Toji smile the most. Your hands came to brace the fabric of the couch’s armrest as Toji drove back between your legs, his grip on your thighs stilling your restlessness.

And that’s all Toji did, just lick you like a lollipop.

#jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk drabbles #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro #cw sex mention #cw smut #//✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈!//

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jujusdiary · 5 months

Text

TILL FOREVER FALLS APART -ln4

pairing- lando norris x child hood best friend fem fewtrell!reader warning- mentions of trauma, abusive relationship, use of "kiddo" as a nickname from max to reader (idk if that's a warning lol) and use of y/n (ew ew ew sorry) genre- mutual pining, brother's best-friend, hella angst, fluff, fluff, and uhm, oh yeah- fluff. summary- after years of being apart, lando reunites with his childhood best-friend, but it's not what everyone is chalking it up to be. reminders of a past argument float up, and the reason for your absence all these years start to become more and more apparent. word count- 4.659k -- this fic was also not proofread lol bc i have no one willing to proofread these yet, so pls lmk if anyone would be interested 😽 also requests are still open and tysm for the love on my oscar post!!! Any text in orange is past/memory scenes soz if it gets confusing : )

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · keep reading !! · • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

You stare off into the distance, your eyes glossy. The paddock stands like a bad memory before your eyes, and you try hard not to reminisce on the last time you stepped past that gate.

"You don't have to go in, you know that, right? You can see Lando some other time." Your brother, Max, says as he places his hand over yours. The car feels so much smaller now, as you sit there with him, the pass heavy in your hands.

"No, no. I have to go see him, i-i promised." You mutter to yourself, gulping down the fear in your throat. Last time you were here, it was over three years ago. You had been accompanied by your boyfriend at the time, Jonah, with his hand wound up around your arm tightly, fingertips digging into our flesh. You swear you can feel his fingers digging into you again, the bruises he left on your body aching all over again-

"Jonah can't hurt you, kiddo. He's far away, he can't reach you." Max reassures you, but you still have to swallow the bile in your throat as you climb out of the car and start to walk towards the paddock and the Mclaren hospitality, your legs shaky as all the memories come rushing back.

"you embarassed me, on live television !" His hand coming down to collide with your cheek. You whine in pain as your body jolts back, your arms and chest covered in bruises, your cheek stinging in pain.

"I-I'm sorry i didn't mean to ! I was just trying to congratulate Lando-" You say, shaking as you tried to back away from him. Jonah wasn't usually an angry man. He used to be sweet and tender towards you, always anxious whenever you would even so much graze your knee. But then he got angry over little things, like when you would knock things over or when you spoke a little too loud.

"Instead, you embarassed me and now everyone thinks my girlfriend is a whore !" You tried to squirm away from him, to hide somewhere and grab a phone to call someone-anyone- to help you. But his hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you back towards him, blood sprouting on your cracked open skull as it hit the table.

"Be quiet."

"Yo. Y/n ?" You were snapped back to reality, Max's hand on your back, the younger aussie driver standing before you, already in his suit. "You okay ?" You gulp heavily, meeting Oscar's confused brown eyes.

"Y-yeah. I'm good." You reply, eyes scanning the crowds around you nervously.

"O-kay..? Anyways, Lando is looking for you." He says, clearing his throat and offering you a soft smile, before walking off. Max looks down at you.

"Are you sure you're alright ? You're looking pale. It's okay if you're scared, i know Lando and you didn't leave things on great terms." He mutters. The worry for his little sister is obvious on Max's face. Lando, Max and You have been friends since the karting days, when you were there to cheer on Max and secretly crush on his best-friend. But Lando had always acted like a brother to you, so you had always assumed those feelings were one sided. So when Lando finally made it to F1 and he started asking you to come to races and acting a bit more flirtatious towards you, it angered you because you had felt alne in your feelings for years and now he wanted to act like this ? It angered you to the point of going and getting a boyfriend. Jonah. Lando and you had gotten into a fight last time you had come to the paddock. It didn't end well. That was over three years ago, at Silverstone in 2021.

"Max, mate !" The voice makes your body go rigid.

"Lando !" Max breaks away from you, envelopping his arms around the boy, patting his back. The slightest of his curly brown hair is peeking out from underneath his papaya cap, his race suit tied around his waist as he clutches unto his water bottle. His cheeks are sunkissed underneath the chinese sun, still high off of his p1 quali. His sink is tan, his eyes shimmering with excitement.

"P1, mate, congrats ! That was amazing, that was." Max congratulates, smiling at him.

"Hah, thank you ! I got scared for a second there, but i was glad when my lap was re-instated, lad, i thought it was over-" His eyes find you, and the shimmer seems to die down. You fiddle with your shirt, the mclaren logo scratchy on your chest.

"Y/n." Your names comes tumbling past his lips like a chant too long apart from him, and it's like the breath has been knocked out of your chest.

"Hi, Lan." You answer, although your voice feels to low for him to hear you. He breaks away from your brother, his eyes drinking you in, a gulp passing past his adam's apple. An awkward silence hangs between the two of you, and it makes your heart hurt as you remember how he'd greeted you last time he'd seen you.

"Lan !" You ran into his arms, letting him fling you around as he groaned, picking you up.

"Ah, there you are ! Been wonderin' where you'd gone." He'd muttered into the skin of your neck, his breath warm. His touch was welcome on your bruised body, the heavy sweater creating unnecessary heat on that day. His arms were tight around you. This was the one race this season Jonah had not joined you. But the bruise around your neck was still obvious when Lando placed you down and his eyes fluttered down.

"Darling.." His hand moved your hair away from your neck softly, frowning. His touch was featherlight on your bruise, and you jerked away from him with a flinch. "Did he do this ? Did Jonah do this to you ?" His eyes were dark. You shook your head, trying to break away from him but his grip on your waist was steadfast.

"Don't lie to me." He whispered.

"He didn't mean to." You'd mumbled, and his face fell.

"He hurt you ?" You shook your head, trying to protest, but before you could, he was ushered away to his car.

"You look.. well." He mutters, scratching the back of his neck. Max looks between the two of you. It must be odd, seeing you standing so far from each other. Usually, his hands wouldn't be off you for more than three seconds- Lando craved your touch, it grounded him. Seeing his stand so far felt foreign to Max. He pats Lando's back again.

"Alright well.. I'm going to go find P.. I'll leave you two to it." He says before walking off, shaking his head. You stare at him in silence, your chest heaving.

"How have you been ?" He asks, taking a step closer to you. His eyes are scanning your skin, looking for any trace of a bruise. The thought hits you like a truck- he doesn't know you and Jonah broke up.

"I've been okay." You answer, your voice feeling strained in your throat. He nods, pursing his lips.

"How's Jonah ?" You gulp down the bile in your throat, scratching your eyebrow. The venom in his voice is evident- your past argument clearly still salt in an open wound.

"Uh- convicted. 5 years." His jaw pops open. "Did Max not tell you ?" He shakes his head, gulping.

"No, uh, he didn't."

"After Silverstone, i... I got it together. I called the cops. He was found guilty and.. i haven't seen him since." His eyes flutter as he nods softly, his lips parting.

"What are you doing later tonight ?"

"Nothing. Probably stay in, if i'm honest." You said, laughing as you stared at Lando as he dried off his sweaty hair after his p4 finish, the towel heavy on his neck.

"Go out with me." He said, turning to look at you. You wanted to say yes, you really did. But you knew Jonah would be furious if he found out you had stepped a foot outside without him.

"I would love to, Lan, but i-i shouldn't." You muttered, but he shook his head, tutting.

"Wasn't a question. You and me, we're going out before your muppet of a brother shows up tomorrow and ruins out fun, alright ?" he said, smiling broadly at you. You scratched at your stomach, the hidden bruise on your ribs bothering you as yo sat uncomfortably on the chair, but you couldn't say anything was bothering you or Lando would be all over you.

"I'm serious, Lan, i don't think i should-"

"Nonsense. We're going to have fun."

You stared at him , your feet aching from being stood up so long.

"Should we go sit somewhere ?" Lando asks, his eyes happier than before. You nod.

"Sure." You follow him inside the McLaren hospitality, your hands shaky as you enter the place you haven't seen in three years. Everyone greets you with smiles and handshakes galore, and it makes you feel like you've been greeted home. It still feels weird that he hasn't hugged you yet, and you try not to let that bother you when you sit down on the couch in his driver's room, the door closing behind him. He turns to face you.

"I've missed you, y'know ?" He says, his voice soft as he leans against the door, his eyes looking up. "I didn't think i'd see you again after that night.. After Max told me you'd gone." He says, clearing his throat. You glance down at your hands, fiddling with the skin around your fingers.

"I didn't think i'd come back, to be honest." He looks at you, and his gaze softens.

"I'm sorry, for what i said." He says, licking his lips. You finally look up at him, and the look in his eyes makes you want to sob. "Everytime i think about it.. It makes me want to be sick. The way i treated you-"

"We don't have to talk about that." You say, begging to get away from that subject.

"But i want to apologise to you." He says, sitting next to you. "I didn't mean it. Any of it."

The music was loud, and Lando was leaning next to you at the bar. You were laughing along to something he had said, when your phone had started to ring in your pocket. Its was Jonah. Somehow he had found out you were out, and he was fuming. You were crying in a corner, hiding from Lando, from whom you had excused yourself from to answer the call. Your shoulders we shaking, your dress hiking up to your knees to reveal the bruises peppered on your thighs, the sweater you had slung over to hide the spagetti straps revealing the bruises on your collarbones was now too heavy to bear, making you sweat as you tried your best to control your breathing- yet every breath you took made your ribs ache ache and wince. You tore your sweater off, fanning at your face, relishing in the privacy to no longer hide underneath layers.

"Darling ? Are you in here ?" You tensed up at his voice. You wiped the runny mascara off your cheeks, forgetting you had taken your sweater off. Lando turned the corner, and his jaw almost dropped when he saw you.

"Jesus, Y/n. What has he been doing to you ?" You frowned, before looking down at yourself, the music from the club outside still thrumming on the floor. Your eyes went wide as he took a step closer to you grabbing your arm softly and looking at the bruises peppered on your body. You shook your head, new tears forming in your eyes.

"N-No, i'm just clumsy, I walked into a wall and i bumped into a few tables. You know how i am, Lan, it's nothing-" He shook his head, cutting you off.

"Don't lie to me, darling. I'm sick and tired of you being scared of doing things that you think he would see as out of line. You've changed, Y/n. You're not the same anymore, you're too preoccupied with what he thinks of you, of what he wants you to do." You frowned at his words. It was obvious he was drunk, his words were slurred, but he had had enough. Lando had loved you for years, not that the believed you loved him back, and the second he got into f1, Max had given him the green flag to go ahead and make a move, having placed a heavy hands off for most of your life. But his relentless moves onto you just seemed to anger you, and he didn't seem to understand why- so it's safe to say he was confused when Jonah appeared at the paddock with you, out of the blue. He tried to play it off, to act happy for you because you were happy and that was all that mattered to him. But when he saw you start to be more scared every time anyone lifted their hand or arm, or how you wore heavy and covered clothing even on the hottest of days- he knew something was wrong. Especially when you stopped hugging him before races, especially when Jonah was around, he was convinced something was wrong.

"You're not yourself anymore - You're scared of everything, you're nervous, you look like you don't want to be around me, and you're always doing whatever fucking Jonah wants you to do. Im sick of it. I'm sick of it, i'm tired of seeing you upset all the time." You gulped down tears, and Lando knew he was saying the wrong things. He couldn't tell if he was being rude, the alcohol too heavy in his veins, fogging up his brain.

"Why are you acting like this ?" You mumbled, shaking your head. His words were hitting you, deep. You knew he was drunk, but aren't drunk words simply sober thoughts ?

So Lando really thought you were a push over and you were just giving in to Jonah ?

Letting yourself get hit ?

"Because i love you, goddammit ! I've loved you since we were kids but i couldn't do anything about it because of your brother, but then when he gave me the green light, I was going to go for you- But then you brought fucking Jonah !" His words knocked the air straight out of your chest. He loved you ?

" And i knew he was off- I knew something was wrong with him. The second i saw you act weird, especially to me, i knew something was wrong and now i know !" He yelled, pointing at your bruises. "He's been hurting you, y/n, and you've been hiding it ! God, you should've told me ! All i want is to protect you, darling."

"Lan, you're being mean.."

"Mean ? Mean ?! I'm trying to help you because he's obviously not a good guy but you're too scared to do anything about it, so you've stayed with him for three years !"

"You don't think i know that ? You don't think i've tried to get away ?I have, Lan ! Ive tried to tell you and Max, anyone, but i knew you would act like this and i was scared of what you would do ! What do you think this entire weekend was about ? I was trying to have one good moment before i went back there and ended things with him and filed a restraining order against him !" He tensed up as you yelled back at him, tears streaming down your face. "You think telling me that i've been letting him do these things to me is going to make me fall for you ?"

His face fell, and he suddenly realised that he had made a big, big mistake.

"No, Y/n, that's not what i-"

"Well it's not. And to think i came here all this way for you, putting my ass on the line because who knows the things he will do to me when i get back." You screamed, your throat yelling at you with every raise in. your tone, your voice cracking.

"Then stay. Don't go back, stay with me." He begged. He could tell you wanted to, but his earlier words were still stinging your heart. You shook your head and slipped your sweater back on. You pushed past him, but he gripped your arm.

"No, please, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to yell." His eyes were pleading. "You know that's not what i meant. Please, love, i'm not in my right mind- Just stay until morning and i'll explain it t you when my head isn't moving at three thousand thoughts a minute- Please." You could tell he was drunk. But you still felt sick just looking at him.

"Well it's too late now isn't it ?" You mumbled, before breaking free and running off.

You were on a plane out of the country before Max's had even landed.

"Not any of it ? Wow, okay." You ask, feeling that same prickly feeling in your throat as you did that night.

"Well i meant one part." He says, looking down at you. " I do love you."

"Lando, can we not do this, please ?" He shakes his head.

"But i want to. I don't like knowing you're mad at me-" You stand up, shaking your head, sniffling.

"I didn't come here to hear a half assed apology, Lan. I came here to support you because you're my friend and i missed you, for some reason. But if you're just going to toy with me again, and remind me of things i'd rather forget, then i can't do this." You say.

The thought of anyone genuinely loving you feels suffocating after Jonah.

It makes you sick to even think of being in such a vulnerable state again.

"I promise, i'm not-"

"I'll see you at dinner." You mutter, your chest heaving up and down in panic. He frowns as you move past him and leave his room storming out into the sun to find Max, your mind reeling.

Dinner is not going to be enjoyable.

❀❀❀

The dress is uncomfortable against your ribs, gulping heavily. The car is quiet, Pietra sitting beside you, Max in the front passenger seat near Lando. You try to avoid his eyes darting over to you at every red light, but it's getting painstakingly hard when his breathing gets heavier each time you look down to avoid his gaze. Pietra is scrolling mindlessly on her phone, her head resting on your shoulder as the car trudges past the streets. The restaurant Lando pulls into is fancy, with a valet at the door who takes the car off of his hands as you climb out. Pietra grabs your hand, talking happily about something as max softly touches your shoulder to make sure you're alright.

It feels weird- Wearing a dress and not having to cover a bruise.

You blink hurriedly and let Pietra drag you into the restaurant behind Lando and your brother, leading you to the table. She sits down beside you, Max sitting down infront of her, leaving Lando to sit down infront of you. You gulp and cats your eyes down, trying to include yourself in the conversation happening between your brother and his girlfriend, but it's all batting eyelashes and hand holding. Lando;'s foot nudges your calf. Your eyes snap over.

"Can we please talk-"

"Hi ! What can i get you tonight ?" Lando looks up at the sudden interruption. It's a young waiter, a large smile on his face.

"Uh, we haven't looked at the menu's yet-"

"Oh that's fine, would you like anything to drink ?" Lando's jaw tenses.

"No, it's fine we'll let you know when we're ready-"

"Well, i can offer you some specials ! We have cocktails with free refills, a wine cave that has been critically acclaimed for it's diversity-" Lando's fist comes smashing against the table. You flinch, the suddenness of it all making you jump. Max even looked over at the commotion, his brows knotted in confusion. Lando didn't get angry- at least not that angry. And he did, he'd be more likely to stay angry in silence until he' s calmed down enough to rationally discuss why he was angered in the first place.

"For fucks sake, can you give us a minute !" The young boy stammers, gulping heavily.

"Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The boy backs away, his hands shaking. Like how your hands shook as you dialed 9-1-1 from the hidden safety of your bathtub, bleeding from five different areas, Jonah having left to "clear his head" after beating you to a pulp.

Your eyes are wide in fear, your stomach churning with bile. Max seems to notice and he nods at Pietra, who places her hand over yours tentatively, your eyes trained on Lando, who is staring at you aswell.

"Y/n-" The second her hand touches yours, your body goes into fight or flight mode. You shove her off, leaping to your feet, your chest heaving, your chair groaning loudly on the floor. Everyone in the vicinity has turned to look at you. Max's eyes are wide, knowing the reason for your sudden change. You feel cornered, like every eye pouring into you is Jonah's- taunting you, promising to hurt you. Your eyes dart to Lando, who is staring up at you with worry in his eyes. You shake your head, a whimper forcing it's way out of your lips before running off, your heels clicking on the floor as whispers follow you.

"Y/n !" You hear Lando call, but you're already pushing open the door of the bathroom and locking it behind you after checking no one else was in the stalls. The second you're in privacy, tears start flowing down your cheeks, your hands clawing at your chest to get some sort of air into your lungs, the only thing keeping you up being the iron grip your free hand has on the small porcelain sink.

"Okay.. okay, breathe, Y/n. Jonah is far- He can't hurt you. He can't. He can't." You tell yourself through the rapid fire tears coursing down your face, making it hard for you to see or breathe.

"Darling ? Are you in here ?"

Deja vu hits you so hard you almost stumble backwards.

"I'm sorry, love, i didn't mean to yell."

There it is again.

"Will you please open the door ?"

His voice is so soft, so comforting, you don't even think. The lock comes clicking open and before you know it you're wrapped up into his arms, pushing you back into the bathroom, his voice muffled into your hair as he holds you close, apologising profusely. His hand is pinned to your waist, the other buried in your hair as your hands come to squeeze around his torso, his lips kissing your temple.

"Fuck, i'm sorry. I'm so sorry. God, i'm so sorry, Y/n." He breathes, gently rocking you back and forth. You nod against his chest, relishing in his touch. This is the first time in three years he's held you close.

"I'm sorry about the fight, i had no idea how bad it was, y/n." he pulls away, cupping your cheeks to make you look at him. "I never should've said any of those things. God, you're so strong for even thinking of getting out, my love. He never deserved you, and you never deserved to be treated that way, even less for me to be a dick about it because i was drunk and hung up over you." he peppers kisses all over your face. "And i'm so sorry for yelling just now, really i am, I just felt so bad because you wouldn't even look at me, and i got carried away and-" he stops himself when he realises he's rambling. "I'm sorry." He says, his tone stern. He brushes a strand away from your face, your hands resting on his torso as he stays cupping your cheeks.

"If I could take back that entire fight, I would. Please.. Don't ever leave me again." he begs, his voice cracking as his own tears fill his eyes. "It's been hell without you, Y/n. And knowing it was my fault you stayed away just makes it worse." He says. You lick your lips, and you look up at him through tear-soaked eyelashes.

"You promise you love me ?" Your voice is wobbly. The thought of hearing him say those words again makes you sick yet excited.

"Baby.. I've loved you since we were six. Of course i love you - i'll never stop loving you. And i can love you how you deserve to be.. if you let me." He says, his eyes scanning your face. He awaits for your answer, cleafly impatient. He chuckles softly.

"i really don't mean to push, y/n, but you're killing me here-"

You cut him off, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, your hands finding the soft yet gelled tips of his curls, digging your fingers through them like how you used to fantasise when you were teenagers. His hands grab your waist possessively, pushing you up against the door, settling his knee n between your thighs to keep you up as he focuses on cupping your cheeks and kissing you long and hard, as much as he can, relishing in this moment. A soft whine is pulled from your lips as his hand softly settles around your neck, tilting your face up to get easier access, your smaller frame fitting into his tall one with ease. After a while, he finally pulls away to let you breathe, his hands strong on your hips, your own buried in his hair.

"Fuckin' hell." He pants, his forehead resting against yours. You nod, your eyes shut closed. Secretly, you're scared to open your eyes, because you think he might disappear if you look at him for too long.

"Does this mean you forgive me ?" He asks against your neck, his breath hot on your nape, his lips trailing your jaw. You slap at his chest as you laugh, your eyes opening. He laughs, shaking his head as he kisses along your jaw and collarbones.

"Yes, it means i forgive you, you muppet." You laugh, burying your face in his chest as he kisses your temple.

"God it feels so good to hold you." he mutters, his voice groggy. He cutches you tighter, kissing your nose. You scrunch it up, smiling.

"Y/n ? You in here babe ? Max is really worried, and -" The door comes flying open and Pietra stumbles in, taking in the scene before her- you and lando, both of your lips swollen, Lando's smeared with lipgloss, his curls a mess, his head buried in your neck. You try to shove him off, scared at the sudden exposure of his affection. A sudden jolt of fear courses through your body. God, if Jonah saw you and Lando so close, he would kill you- But then it hits you. Jonah actually can't hurt you.

"Hi, P." Lando smiles lazily as he kisses your forehead and pulls you in, refusing to let you go. Pietra smiles broadly.

"Oh. My. God. Max is going to flip !" She says, laughing. She runs off, ready to go tell Max as Lando finally breaks away from you and slips his hand in yours. He looks up at you, wiping the fallen tears off your tears and kisses your knuckles.

"Mine ?" He whispers. You smile, rolling your eyes.

"Yours." You reply. He smiles, tugging you along to the main room, where the restaurant seems to have continue past your earlier outburst. Max's eyes almost bulge out of his head when he notices your hands intertwined, and for the first time in a while..

It feels good to be vulnerable.

It feels good to be loved.

a/n- YALL I LOWK HATE THIS SOMEONE PLS CONVINCE ME OTHER WISE 😭 ( ALSO YAY LANDO WIN- OBVI A FIC IS COMING UR WAY THERE'S ALSO LIKE THREE OTHERS IVE BEEN WORKING ON SO STAY POSTED FOR THAT UHHHH REQUESTS ARE OPEN AS ALWAYSSSSS)

#formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #angst with a happy ending #fluff

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suiana · 8 months

Note

yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋

😻😻 rhanks genie

(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)

you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.

very meaning from when you were born up until recently.

you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.

unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.

you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.

perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...

but he just wasn't it.

so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.

except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.

you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.

"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."

"you know, you're really cute like this."

you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.

and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.

while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.

"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"

"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."

he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?

"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."

he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.

"I'm not sure why,"

his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.

"i guess i just really adore you."

he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.

"you complete me, my love."

you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.

but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-

"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"

...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.

#suiana's sinners #suiana's secret lover #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere concept #yandere rental boyfriend #yandere rental boyfriend x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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mmhcs · 3 months

Text

Miguel O'Hara x Tall!Reader

A/N: (I haven't seen many fics covering this topic so I thought that I'd throw my hat in the ring today). This is dedicated to all the tall girls out there! Y'all are beautiful and amazing!

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but mostly SFW focus on legs, reader is female(if you'd like to see a gender-neutral version, please let me know!), reader is described as having a curvier lower body (only at one point, though), Miguel is absolutely head-over-heels for reader (pun-intended!)

Okay, y'all. Look at this man. He is 6'9". Big. Very big. Often times, he's the biggest person in the room. Tall and intimidating. And while he likes that (he is the big, scary boss. Hear him roar!), there are times in which he wishes that there was somebody who could relate to him. Like, do you know how hard it is to find shoes at 6'9"?

Now, don't get him wrong, Miguel loves women of all shapes and sizes. Short, tall, average height, skinny, chubby - he doesn't care. But when he saw you? It was like he had a spiritual awakening. Seeing you walk down the hallways of the Spider Society, suit hugging your curves...It did something to him.

Especially when he saw the mold of your legs. For the first time in a long time, Miguel felt himself getting a little nervous. Never had he seen another Spider dominate the room like you did. During your first few days, people used to stare whenever you entered the room - not out of fear as they did with him - but out of awe. You were gorgeous but your height - it just took you over the top.

From your first day forward, all Miguel would hear about is you.

"Did you see the new Spider?" "Yeah, she's really tall! What do you think she does in her professional life? Model?" "Oh my gosh, look at her! She looks good in that suit!"

Whenever you and Miguel would have conversations, he found it hard to focus. First, you have a stunning face but those legs? Oh, he was a goner. Though he had only seen you with in your Spider-suit, Miguel couldn't help but take a liking to your legs. Your thighs, though comprised of muscle - jiggled when you walked, and your calves looked as firm as his demeanor on a bad morning. Miguel had never had a thing for legs before (or at least not to his knowledge) but now he found himself fascinated by your legs and their length and angles. He could spend days worshipping the curvature between your calves and thighs.

When Miguel finally does see you out of uniform? He needs to leave the room. Don't ask why, he just does.

When you two finally start dating, Miguel can't take his eyes off of you. All he can do is stare (mainly at your legs) and thank Padre Dios that he managed to pull you into his life.

But, while what initially made you stand out to Miguel was your height, it actually doesn't play that big of a role in your relationship. As time goes on and lust simmers into love, you and Miguel are just a regular couple.

Though he doesn't spend much time in his home (or didn't until you), Miguel's space is tailor-made for him. Meaning chairs, couches, tables, and shelves big and high enough to accommodate him and his height. While a small thing to note, he's glad that he finally has someone doesn't find issue with it all.

Miguel is aware of the of the stereotypes and jabs thrown at girls of your stature and so he does his best to constantly remind you that you are beautiful, attractive, feminine, etc.

If you're shorter than him (doesn't even matter if it's an inch), he likes to crack short jokes with you here and there.

"Bebita, come look at this!" Miguel yells from his in front of your bedroom's television. "What is it, Miguel?" you ask, peaking your head out of the bathroom. "They say it's going to be windy today," He juts his chin towards the TV screen before refocusing on tying his tie. "Take precaution." "Miguel," you scoff. "What? I don't want you getting swept up by the wind." "Okay, firstly, you know damn well-"

If you're taller than him, Miguel also has jokes for that.

"Bebita, could you please pass me that plate over there?" Miguel asks, pointing his chin at a cabinet shelf that is directly at eye level with him. "Miguel," you give him a pointed look. He shrugs at you, continuing to wash the dishes. "Hey, don't put things up so high if you don't want me to ask you to get them." (For the next week, you started putting all the dishes in the bottom drawer)

The jokes, however, are only reserved for him. If anyone else makes a joke about your height, Miguel gets upset. Just ask Hobie. One time, Hobie asked you how you couldn't tell him what the weather was like from up there (all in good fun) and Miguel, who had no context of the conversation and walked in at the wrong time almost crucified him.

Miguel secretly loves how you two look together. As the head of the Spider Society (again, he likes to be the big, scary boss man), he enjoys the presence that you two create together. Domineering, commanding. Whether you two are in uniform or formal clothing - when you two talk, people listen.

If you work out, Miguel loves to go to the gym with you. Not only because he likes to see you in workout gear (though trust him, that is a very, very, very big plus) but because he finally has somebody who understands the struggle of putting on (visible) muscle.

Miguel loves kisses with you. He's always been very big physical touch in relationships but never before has it been so easy to just steal a kiss. And so, it has been become his favorite pastime.

Miguel loves to see you in dresses and shorts and heels. Anything that accentuates your height. Sometimes when you come home, you see a dress or a new pair of shoes that you've been wanting. However, other times, you find an article of clothing or shoes from a brand that you didn't even know existed. But if it's jeans or a maxi dress, they always cover your legs, if it's a regular shirt, your stomach isn't exposed, and whatever it is always looks good on you.

Sometimes when cuddling, Miguel will just start tracing and/or kneading random parts of your body because there's just so much of you to love and he doesn't know where to start.

At the end of each and every day, no matter if you're taller or shorter than him, Miguel likes to make you feel safe and protected. He likes to play the role of protector/provider and makes you feel taken care of and comfortable.

Bonus: "Your children are going to be some stallions, ain't they?" Hobie says, looking between you and Miguel. You laugh but Miguel glares at him with a scowl that would make most start running for the hills. "Stallions, eh?" you repeat later that night, in bed with him. While not a fan of you slowly assimilating to Hobie's humor, Miguel chuckles dryly and pulls you closer to him. "Indeed," he says, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

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upat4amwiththemoon · 3 months

Text

Hawkeye 2.0

Summary: With great power comes great responsibility.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: injuries

Word count: 1106

a/n: the last iconic trope challenge (part 2) fic, hurt/comfort! Let’s pretend it didn’t take me ages to finish this please and thank you

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69 @scarsw1fe

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N would always tell Kate her becoming the new Hawkeye didn’t bother her, except that wasn’t really the truth. She loved whatever her girlfriend loved, and if saving people was something she wants to do full time, Y/N would always have her back. However, she hated worrying about her every time she walked out of the door. And she hated seeing her hurt every time she walked back inside.

But, she knew what she signed up for, so she’d deal with it.

It’s already two in the night and Y/N is still awake, pacing Kate’s living room from one wall to the other, her hands mechanically touching them softly before she turns around.

Kate left hours ago and still hasn’t come back, not that she has fixed hours as an Avenger, but she doesn’t usually take this long, even she goes out to fight bad guys.

The news channel is on the television, her eyes glance at it every so often. It’s on mute, Y/N couldn’t bear hearing if something had gone wrong with the Avemgers’ mission, but she also doesn’t want to miss out on anything. The only sounds in the house are the clocks ticking out of sync, and Y/N’s soft footsteps.

Her head snaps towards the door with a flinch when the familiar sound of key opening the door fills the apartment.

She lets out a relieved sigh, immediately making her way to the door, practically forcing it open. “Baby.” Y/N gasps. Her relief turns into worry and care when she sees the state Kate is in. Her body is hunched over, face littered with cuts and bruises, and she is holding onto her side tightly. Still she gives her a smile.

“Hey.” Kate whispers, limping into the living room couch with Y/N’s help.

Y/N turns off the television and puts on a proper light to see the extent of the injuries. “What happened?” Her brows are furrowed and the corners of her mouth are downturned. She gets the med kit before kneeling down next to Kate, starting to take off her suit.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Kate mumbles. Her eyes are screwed shut as Y/N moves her body around to undress her. “The mission wasn’t exactly successful.”

Y/N hums. She has to blink multiple times to push away the tears threatening to fall. She doesn’t want to cry in front of injured Kate, this moment is about helping her.

A silence falls over the two of them while Y/N patches up any opens cuts and wounds on Kate’s body. Sometimes she lets out a wince or a groan at a particularly painful wound, but otherwise she feels too tired to talk.

After twenty long minutes, Y/N sets the med kit aside, now just looking at Kate. She can see the subtle tremble of her lower lip, the way she is pressing her nails against her palms, and the tension on her face.

“It’s okay.” She whispers, setting a gentle hand on Kate’s cheek. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time.”

Quiet tears start falling down her cheeks as Kate opens her eyes to look at Y/N. She leans against her palm. “What if I’m normal cut out to do this?” Her voice wavers, cracking at the end of the sentence.

“You are.” Y/N sets both of her hands on Kate’s cheeks, her thumbs rubbing them.

“But today was so bad. I really messed up, I endangered the whole mission.”

A frown falls to Y/N’s face. She’s worried. What if Kate isn’t cut out for this? What if one day, she doesn’t come home? “You can’t be perfect on every mission.” She tries to push the thoughts away. “None of the Avengers can. They all have made mistakes, but have you ever blamed them for it?”

Kate shakes her head. “But I’m new. I have to prove my worth.”

“If you have to prove your worth by going to missions until you’ve too exhausted to even get to the bed afterwards, it’s not worth it.” Y/N’s words turn shaky as she tightens her hold on Kate just the slightest. “You’re so good at what you do. And even if I-“ she sniffles, blinking again to keep the tears at bay, “even if I sometimes hate what you do, you shouldn’t worry about impressing them. Because that’s when you get careless and get hurt. You need to focus on helping people, because that’s what you love.”

A steady stream of tears keep falling out of Kate’s eyes as she listens to Y/N words and her tone. The worry is so clear it makes her feel guilty for being the reason for it. She leans her head against Y/N’s shoulder, making the other woman wrap her arms around her tightly.

“You’ll tell me what happened tomorrow, okay? We’ll talk it through. But now you need to sleep, Kate.” Her voice is quiet. “Please, let’s go to sleep.”

Kate nods, pulling away and standing up with Y/N’s help. They walk to the bedroom slowly, and she gets lowered to the bed.

Y/N goes to the closet, getting clean pajamas for them both. She does most of the work while changing Kate into them, but she doesn’t mind, she loves helping Kate in any way she can.

“I’m sorry.” Kat whispers, looking up at Y/N. “I don’t want to make you worried.”

“No, no.” Y/N kisses her forehead and cheeks, the remaining tears wetting her lips. “It’s not your fault. I’m always going to worry about you, no matter what, because I love you. But I also want you to be happy, that’s the most important thing.”

“I’ll ask for a couple days off.”

A surge of happiness goes through Y/N’s body. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Kate moves to lay down under the covers, pulling Y/N down next to her. “I’ve been working hard. Too hard, I think. I want to spend more time with you.”

Y/N lays down next to Kate, carefully cuddling into her. She closes her eyes and nuzzles her face into the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

Kate wraps her arms around Y/N. Her movements are slow, but the injuries won’t stop her from holding her girl. “You’re the most important thing to me.” She whispers. “And I will always come home to you.”

“I know.” Though the doubt still lures in the back of Y/N’s mind, she does a conscious effort to trust Kate’s words.

She’ll always come home to her.

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dreamingofep · 7 months

Text

A Blue Velvet Crush

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.

If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!

Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Mississippi, September 26th, 1956

Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person.

You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life.

You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it.

“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say.

You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing.

And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage.

There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today.

There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!

You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much.

The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage.

The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”

The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot.

The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage.

He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand.

Click.

He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.

There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…

Click.

Fucking focus.

He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.

Click.

You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.

Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors.

You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted.

“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head.

Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.

Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out.

The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight.

Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.

What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’

You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.

“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.

He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.

He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.

“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.

Lil’ darlin’.

Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.

“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.

“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.

I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...

“Huh?” You say in a daze.

“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.

“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.

Stop that. Stop that right now!

You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.

“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.

He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.

Click.

He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…

“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.

Click.

God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.

“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.

“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.

“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.

Click.

“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.

He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.

He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.

You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.

Click.

You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way.

He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.

Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…

Click.

He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.

You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.

“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes.

I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!

“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,” you say coyly.

His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.

You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.

He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.

“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.

“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.

You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything.

You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.

Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.

“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.

“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.

You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.

He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.

You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch.

You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.

“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.

What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling.

You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him.

“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.

“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.

“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you.

“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.

He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.

You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.

“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.

“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.

He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.

“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you.

You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.

“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.

“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.

“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.

“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.

“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.

He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.

The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good.

“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.

You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse.

Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.

“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.

“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.

You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.

You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.

“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand.

“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.

He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.

“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you.

You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.

“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.

“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.

He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.

“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.

You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.

“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.

“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.

“You, my new favorite reporter.”

Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

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@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

#elvis presley #elvis fans #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presely smut #elvis smut #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #50s elvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis imagine #elvis fic #elvis fluff

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

please please PLEASE do a blurb of eddie fucking the reader and shes like struggling and saying “have.. to.. be.. quiet” while eddie is just cooing her telling her that she doesn’t/no one is home

author’s note: i will die on the hill of ‘struggling to be quiet’ fucking, thank you for coming to me ted talk and i hope you enjoy my poorly written smut.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex (pulling out), exhibitionism (sort of), eddie being a menace, just another reason to write depraved smut

word count: 1.6k

You were accustomed to the quickies that happened, more often than not, in the back of Eddie’s trailer—early mornings, late nights. Eddie wasn’t particularly fond of fucking you in the back of his van anymore, feeling rushed and uncomfortable, and you deserved to be treated beautifully—not forced onto your knees in the back of some metal death machine, scrapping them up for the sheer idea of getting laid. You deserved a bed, at least—but the only downside to that, despite his lack of being a teen, Eddie still lived with his uncle.

And as often as Wayne was gone, he also couldn’t stay gone forever. Most of the time it could be managed without worry—Wayne was gone more evenings and nights, aside from the rare occasion he had a day off, but Eddie didn’t have any qualms when it came to you and when he needed you—and there really was no denying him, not when you wanted it just as badly.

His uncle doesn’t question when you start staying overnight, it’s not his business and he knows Eddie’s grown and level-headed enough to make good decisions—and you’re good for Eddie, he sees it in the way Eddie carries himself now and in the way he does everything possible to accommodate to you first—it really isn’t necessary, but Wayne raised him to be a gentleman and he’d be damned if he didn’t see that through.

Regardless, Eddie loves to catch you at the most inconvenient times—particularly the warm, summer weekends when Wayne was off, saddled up on the couch in the living room catching up on the latest sports game, television blasting through the trailer.

He knew. He had to.

Besides, Wayne had been nice enough to give Eddie the only bedroom in the trailer—and as a hormonal kid in his last year of high school, it was probably for the best.

He shuts the door with a soft click, the mix of his radio and the booming television drowning out everything else—still, when he fucks you, his hand is clasped tightly over your mouth to drown out every last moan he pulls from you.

Eddie loves it, face lighting up in excitement as you struggled to keep quiet, eyes nearly rolling back in your head at how hard he was fucking into you, panting his own soft breaths over the back of his hand, his face so close your eyelashes could touch.

“Fuck,” He groans brokey, voice cracking on his final thrust, pulling out swiftly to come over the soft expanse of your stomach, pulling his hand away from your mouth,“—baby—“

It’s too loud for your liking, springing up from your reclined position to clasp your hand over his mouth, his eyes falling shut as he tugs at his dick, working through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He mumbled something against the palm of your hand, another curse or filthy remark, you’re not sure—but you’re more than thankful to have muffled his mouth because there was no surviving the shame of having to walk back to the entrance of the trailer after this.

When Eddie finally calms down, releasing his dick to pull at your hand, he’s laughing—and you can’t help but look at him with absurdity, shoving gently at his bare stomach.

“Eddie,” You say in a hushed voice of warning, “are you trying to get us caught?”

“He’s not stupid,” Eddie replies half-heartedly, shrugging, “He probably went out for a couple smokes anyways—he usually does.”

“Still,” You stress, “If you can’t wait, at least don’t make it so fucking obvious.”

Eddie smiles, tipping your chin up with his forefinger, the curved metal of his ring bumping against the skin.

“You can always say no,” Eddie reminds you playfully, “It didn’t seem like you cared a few minutes ago.”

Your eyes narrow, trying to look as intimidating as you could despite your soft features, “I was trying to be quiet. You were being loud on purpose.”

“You feel good.” He defends weakly, “Sue me.”

You roll your eyes fondly, swatting his hand away gently.

“Well, for my sake, try a little harder please?”

Eddie agrees with cautious regret, knowing he definitely didn’t have enough self control, but if it was for you—he would. And it becomes normal after time, almost too easy, and Eddie takes full advantage of it.

You’ve never fucked in a storage closet, let alone at school, but it’s something you can say you’ve tried at least once—all thanks to Eddie’s steadfast determination. He’s even bold enough to fuck you in the bathroom of your parent’s home during a big dinner with other friends and family—and no one had a clue. Eddie always knew how to take full advantage of every situation, both a blessing and a curse.

But when the rare occasion does come, leaving you both alone for the night and Eddie free of his Hellfire duties, it’s like you don’t know how to handle yourself, forcing yourself to keep quiet out of habit.

You pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth, snuffing out the soft whines begging to escape, the slow, full thrust of Eddie’s hips overwhelming when mixed with his calloused fingers working at your already sensitive clit. He moans unabashed, tossing his head back to throw his hair over his shoulder, free hand gripping your hip like a vice, pulling you against him just as eagerly as he thrust into you.

“Love watching you like this,” Eddie says softly, voice shot from pleasure, “—look so pretty on my cock, sweetheart.”

You nod jerkily, agreeing with whatever he said at that point, brows pulling together in concentration, mouth falling open on a soundless gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He asks teasingly, tongue peeking out past his lips and near the corner of his mouth, smug as fucking ever.

“Have to—“ You pant softly, “have to be quiet, Eddie.”

Eddie pouts endearingly, pulling you against him in a rough snap of his hips, your hands grabbing at his messy sheets.

“No, baby,” He shakes his head, “—it’s just us.”

“But—“ You start to protest, but Eddie's hand comes to grab at your face, gentle despite his quickening pace, less restrained than earlier. “—what if your neighbors, you know—“

It was true, sound traveled far too well in the tiny trailer park—but Eddie couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“I want to hear you,” Eddie tells you honestly, eyes falling upon your face, mouth gaping open in his grip, you nod slightly, “—unless you need me to force it out of you.”

And he could with no problem.

“Turn around,” He instructs softly, pulling out momentarily to adjust your hips until you push up onto your knees, face shoved gently into the mattress, “don’t hold back, baby.”

Eddie came in with a plan, sliding into you with ease, hips snapping at a hurried pace that had you gasping into the sheets, even then they were muffled, all semblance of thought and self control gone, practically drooling into his sheets at the brutal pace he’d set.

It isn’t enough for Eddie though, his hand winding into the back of your hair until it hits the root, yanking your head up tenderly—the strain is bordering on uncomfortable, but it’s worth it, the sound he releases as he thrusts into you with furious precision.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” He says in a haze, head tilted down to watch himself sink into you, squeezing at the dip of your hip, “squeezing me so tight, sweetheart.”

You nod, mumbling a soft “Uh huh,” in response, but it’s not what Eddie wants—he knows you have it in you, keeping it so calmly at bay.

“Am I making you feel good, too?” Eddie asks teasingly, another quiet nod, the motion weak against his tight hold on your hair. “Say it, baby—who makes you feel like this?”

“You,” You reply softly, pulling gently against his grip until he lets go, palms pressed against the bed to keep you upright, using your own momentum to slam your hips back against him, plunging Eddie so deep your vision feels like it goes spotty, “—fuck, you do.”

“Say it, sweetheart.” He instructs in a sweet tone, leaning back on his calves until you’re seated in his lap, “say my name.”

You gasp as his fingers reach around to find your clit in a desperate attempt to pull you to a quick orgasm—“Eddie.”

“Louder.”

You sob softly, the muscles of your legs twitching as the pressure builds, your body going white hot with euphoric pleasure as you come around Eddie’s cock, crying out a broken, “EddieEddieEddie—“

Eddie curses as he comes a few seconds after, over the swell of your ass, feeling desperate to catch your breath. He leans down a moment later, pressing a soft kiss to the middle of your back, running his hands along your arms gently. He lifts you up slowly until you can face him again, face at chest level from where he stood above you. His face is outlined by the low light of the room, another satisfied grin pulling at his face.

“Don’t act so innocent,” Eddie teases, “I knew you had it in you.”

You roll your eyes light-heartedly, shoving your fist against his abdomen gently, his fingers coming to wrap around your wrist with ease.

“I never said I didn’t.” You counter and Eddie grins even wider.

It’s safe to say that Eddie goes out of his way to make sure the trailer is always cleared from then on, never depriving himself of such an experience ever again.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #my writing #1kfic

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mayearies · 1 year

Text

☆.

NORMAL GIRL

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒

genre: angsty (a lil fluff) | warnings: insecure reader a/n: i gotta confess i just listened to the ctrl deluxe because i didnt know there was one but I LOVE JODIE AND MILES SMSM translations: amor, que paso / love, what happened . di lo que piensas / say what you think . tía / aunt . como si fuera ayer, hermosa / like it was yesterday, beautiful . mi corazon / my heart . mamá, déjame ayudarte / mama, let me help you

summary: miles assuring youre the one for him no matter what ♬ song: normal girl by sza

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

miles and you were just laying down and watching some television on the couch while tía rio went to the store. she said she wanted to teach you and miles how to make pasteles tonight. you honestly weren’t paying attention to whatever was being shown, instead you were thinking about yourself. you just wish you were more-

“-normal?”

the tv cut off your sentence with that word, snapping you back into the moment. he noticed your sudden jump and looked up as you as his thumb circled your stomach. “you okay?”

“hm? oh yeah- yeah i’m fine.”

your voice was really unconvincing, he rolled his eyes as he laid his head back down on your chest and turned his eyes toward the tv again. “amor, que paso? you look upset.”

“nothing, just thinking.” “you know you can tell me anythin’, right? di lo que piensas.”

you know that. but you wanted to keep this to yourself. but also knowing him, he would be able to get you to crack sooner or later. miles was really passionate about hearing what you’re thinking. he liked to hear you speak. he says that a lot.

“you know how i, y’know act really out of character?” “what’chu mean, ma?” “like when we first met—don’t i act completely different now that we’re dating?”

the circular motions on your stomach paused for a second as he looked up at you but the motions still continued as he stared at you. glancing at your lips from time to time. “i mean, i never really noticed.”

“never?” “no. you stay the same in my eyes. the same cute princess i’ve known. so i dont know what you mean when you say ‘out of character’.”

maybe he didn’t see you the way you saw you. you felt like you’ve changed since you met him. in some ways bad, in some ways good. but you still felt like you weren’t yourself. “you know the times i would be hyper and all that.”

“como si fuera ayer, hermosa.” “well.. do you think thats normal considering me?”

miles squinted his eyes at you as he shifted so you were sitting on his lap. “‘normal’? you’re not normal.”

“exactly what my point is, miles. and i feel like it’s a problem.” “what’s wrong with not being normal, love? you can’t define normal in a person.” “but i’m not-“

“no buts, mi corazon. i like all the moments we share. the silly ones, the serious ones, thats all a part of you. and i like that. y’know, mama might have not had the best perception of you when we first met but, i still loved you. the same i do now. you might have changed. i still love you the same. ♡”

he lightly pepper kissed you over your face. he always knew a sweet way to shut you up. you were his life, and he wouldn’t want you being insecure about yourself any time of day. even when we was asleep or away for prowler business.

miles didnt have any expectations when he wanted a girlfriend. you just had to like him back. and you did. thats all he asks for. nothing else. “you okay now?”

he liked the way you would instantly melt at the kisses from his chappled lips. it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. he kissed your nose before you laid your head on his chest. he stroked your scalp, too.

the sweet moment was inturrupted when the door lock was making noise, “i’m back!”

miles’ hands gestured for you to move so he could help with the groceries. a faint “mamá, déjame ayudarte.” coming from him as she thanked him. you were still a little froze in the moment to which you couldnt feel tears on your cheeks drying up.

“oh! good, she’s still here-“

once rio turned her attention to you, she held a look of slight worry. which then shifted to an eyebrow raise at her son as he carried the bags.

“what did you do?” “nothing, mama! i swear. we just.. had a little moment while you were out.”

she looked back and forth between you two until her mouth made an ‘o’ shape, “ah, i see.”

“…not-“ “yes, i know ‘not like that’!”

©hiimayee

#miles morales #miles g morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #e!42 miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales earth 42 #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles angst

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

Rain Therapy | Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: The line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. It's a line that you and Bucky just can't seem to break, but it's nothing one of Tony's infamous parties can't fix.

A/N: Another fluffy one for me, which is still something I'm growing used to writing. I'm getting anxious for some angst, so ask me for some and I'll see what I can do!

Warnings: two idiots in love, slight angst, tooth-rotting fluff, language, allusions to smutty content, jealous Bucky

Word Count: 7,206

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

The whisper of lightning, the promise of thunder, the answer of rain. The sky darkens and the sun is forgotten, casting a gloomy light on the earth below.

And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, I find it to be a chemical mixture for peace.

“Y/N, Y/N what the hell are you doing out there?”

That illusion of peace shatters, and I let out low groan, keeping my eyes shut as the raindrops fall down on my form outstretched on the pavement.

“I was having a peaceful moment of bliss until someone decided now was an opportune time to bother me,” I call back.

“An opportune time to-” I hear him cut off incredulously, muttering something to himself as heavy, booted feet slosh through the rain to reach me, “Get off the damn driveway, doll. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth,” I respond, staying pleasantly where I lay right in front of the Avengers Compound.

“Myth my ass, now get up and inside before I throw you over my shoulder and do it for you.”

I click my tongue, not having to open my eyes to know my best friend is standing right beside me, “So much violence, so much language. You should join me, some inner peace would do you good.”

Thunder cracks above, rumbling through the earth and into my bones. Even though I don’t hear his steps moving away, Bucky goes silent beside me. I begin to think he’s taking me up on my offer of a little rain therapy.

“See,” I sigh into the cacophony of nature, “Isn’t that peaceful? Maybe-”

I don’t even have time to react when a pair of strong arms, one of them freezing cold due to the metal in the rain, grab my waist and lift me clear off the floor. My eyes snap open with a jolt as I see myself being thrown over Bucky’s shoulder just like he promised.

“What the-” I stop myself as he secures me with his arm dangerously near my ass and slap his broad, muscular back, “You little bitch!”

“A little bitch who’s gonna keep you from getting a cold,” Bucky responds, and I can hear the smugness in his tone from back here, “Is the rain still peaceful?”

“No, there’s a jackass who got in the way.”

I feel his body rumble with laughter, feel the noise pass through my body and make my heart tumble in its cage. With that, his arm edging near a zone that’s clearly more than friends, and the sight of his wet t-shirt stuck to his back, I feel the anger flood from my body. Instead, I find myself thinking about what his abs look like with his rain-soaked shirt pressed against them.

Damn it, I’ve really got it bad.

I try my hardest to shove the image from my mind, but it only sticks harder and makes the spot where Bucky’s hand rests burn. I notice his metal hand on the other side, rain dripping off of it, and I can’t help but let my mind trace to-

I halt my thinking abruptly. He’s your best friend, he’s your best friend, he’s your best friend.

He’s my unfairly hot, broody, and annoyingly heart-fluttering best friend

With his free hand, Bucky shoves open the front doors to the Avenger’s Compound, walking a few steps until we enter one of the large, high-ceiling living areas where a television blasts a movie.

“I told you,” Tony announces after the group of my friends and teammates sees Bucky walking in with me on his shoulder, “Sam, you owe me five bucks.”

“Put me down, terminator,” I grunt, to which Bucky finally sets me on my feet.

Immediately I go to hit him, but the sudden change in my body’s gravity sends me off balance slightly. I stumble back slightly, trying to make the blood rush from my head so I can balance again.

“Woah, careful there, Bambi,” Bucky laughs, gripping onto my waist to help steady me.

Where his hands touch, metal and skin alike, my skin sets on fire. The radiating electricity from his touch only annoys me further and I shove out of his hands, swatting his chest.

“I’m fine,” I grumble, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze and holding a finger in his face like a scolding parent, “Next time you manhandle me, I’m going to remove your arm like Ayo showed me.”

Bucky smirks at me coolly and says something, but I miss it because my eyes drop down to where his t-shirt sticks to his abs from the rain. Just like I imagined it would, it makes my mouth go dry and my heartbeat miss a step.

“See something you like?” Bucky taunts.

Cheeks flushed, I look up at him calmly and smile, “Just thinking about what a shame a body like that is wasted on the grumpiest man alive.”

The group of Avengers lounging around the various chairs and couches in the living room snicker, their attention drawn from the television. He lifts an eyebrow at me and those infuriating steel blue eyes ricochet my pulse.

“Sure you were.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, turning and looking at team, “Who bet against me?”

Tony, Bruce, Wanda, and Nat lifts their hands and I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest in feigned hurt.

“Traitors,” I grumble, not being able to stop the smile that wants to twitch onto my lips as Bucky walks up beside me and rests his arm on my shoulder.

“They bet right, didn’t they?”

I look up at him with the half-smile I wasn’t able to stop, “Screw you,”

I turn around and leave the living room, making my way towards my room so I can shower and change. From behind me, I hear Bucky’s laugh that sears itself into my memory.

“Love you too, doll!” He calls out, and my heart launches into my throat.

He doesn’t mean it like I want him to, not like how I mean it. Not like how I've meant it for months.

As I finally get to the confines of my bedroom, I shut to the door and let out a trembling breath. I keep my back pressed to the door for a moment, leaning my head against it and forcing myself to forget the way his hands felt, to strike from my memory the beauty of his laugh. When I finally peel off my wet clothes and step into a scalding hot shower, I let the water and steam surround me long after I'm already clean.

I'm a coward, a coward and a fool for falling for my best friend and not being able to say a word to him about it.

Long after I'm out of the shower and cuddled up with a book on my bed, a knock sounds on my door. I've barely glanced up at it in confusion when Natasha's voice calls out, "I know you're probably reading a book but put it down and let me in unless you want me to break down the door."

A half-smile tugs onto my lips and I set my book aside, untangling myself from my covers and opening the door for my friend. She gives me a smug smile and waltzes in, plopping down on my bed. I can't help but shake my head at her as she makes herself at home.

"Why are all of my friends so violent?" I taunt, sitting down next to her.

"Most of us are trained assassins." Nat gives me a playful nudge, already lifting my spirits from the gloom and doom they were resting in. Her knowing gaze immediately notifies me that I can't escape the conversation to come, so I don't even bother to skirt around it.

"Why does my life suck?" I groan, dropping down onto my back dramatically. Nat laughs beside me, shaking her head down at me.

"So many questions tonight," She remarks, following the words with a tired sigh and laying down beside me. As we both stare up at my ceiling, my mind is held captive by one person. Both it and my heart have been held hostage and I'm starting to understand the truth in Stockholm Syndrome.

"You know, and brace yourself because this is gonna blow your mind, you could just tell him how you feel," Nat advises.

"And risk ruining everything that we already have?" I reply, my brows creased in an ever-present state of worry, "I could live with being friends with him forever as long as it meant I still had him in my life. But if I tell him how I feel and it changes everything to the point where he can't even be around me?"

I take a charged pause, startled by the sudden rise of emotion. I swallow down the burning pain, but ultimately I decide to go easy on my breaking heart. The poor thing doesn't know any better. All it knows is that it wants Bucky Barnes and I keep locking it and its desires into a cage of bones in my chest.

"A life without him...I couldn't live like that."

Nat sits up beside me, catching my attention in time to see the sympathy flashing across her features, "Y/N, I know it's scary but if you'd just trust me I think the outcome would surprise you."

She can tell that I'm still not convinced, so in a last ditch effort to rally me from my slumber of inaction, she reaches across me and grabs the book I was reading. I sit up, a protest just starting on my tongue as I reach for it. She pulls it out of my reach and holds it in front of her chest, displaying the cover for me to see.

"Do any of the characters in these books ever fare well from denying their passions?" Nat asks, and I find that she has me in a figurative corner, "Do their stories end well when they decide, 'Nah, I'm too scared to tell him I love him'?"

"I don't love him," I protest, but the lie is sour on my tongue and allergic to my soul. It gets rejected so quickly by everything within me that I almost think I'll have a physical reaction to it.

"Bullshit." Nat challenges, setting the book aside and grabbing my hands. I shake my head, trying to escape her arguments that my heart jumps in agreement with.

It's a brutal thing, to have your heart yearn for one thing and your mind so resolutely against it. I've always thought it strange how the dichotomy of desires could root in a person, but it makes sense in a way. The heart is led by our passions, our intuitive cravings. The mind is hardwired by nature and instinct to protect us, to propel our survivals.

Even if that means our passions must be slaughtered.

I'm keeping my mind in charge by sheer will that's hanging precariously over the edge of a cliff. My will only has a few fingers left to hold with, and I can feel it slipping every day Bucky's near me, every time his skin brushes mine, every time he simply is.

“I need to move on,” I almost desperately announce, gripping handfuls of my sweatshirt to keep from crying, “I need a way to move or this is going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.”

Sympathetic to my distress, Natasha lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “You know, with Tony’s Semi-Annual Charity Gala coming up this weekend it’s the perfect time to move on.”

I perk up slightly, the thought breaking a sliver of hope in the pit of despair and self-pity I allow to well up. For an Avenger, I sure know how to wallow in pain.

“…or make a move on a certain super soldier.” Nat continues.

“Don’t be silly, I’d never steal Steve away from you,” I jest, my tone wavering but stronger than before. Nat rolls her eyes from beside me before shoving my shoulder. With a sigh, I finally meet my friend’s gaze, “One last chance. One chance and then I’m putting myself out of my misery”

That’s so easily said. The unspoken truth is that my poor heart doesn’t stand a chance. It hasn’t for a long time.

“Great!” Nat smiles, squeezing me into a side hug on the bed, “I’ll start planning your outfit now!”

And with that, she’s off my bed and into my closet. As we spend the better part of the night deciding on what to wear to the upcoming gala, I can’t help but let my mind stray to its usual focus. With a groan of exhaustion, I drop my head into my hands and tell myself that same lie.

“He’s my best friend. That’s all.”

It’s getting harder and harder to believe.

|||

A few days later

It's been a few days since the rain incident, and I've finally managed to garner a moment alone from everyone. It's not that I don't love being around them, but it taxes me more than I care to admit to be around him.

A forlorn sigh brushes past my lips, but as I nestle down on the floor in the library Tony had put into the Compound, I find my worries drifting away. Instead, they're replaced with the story in the pages, rapturing my attention and distracting my mind.

That is, until the door opens and I feel his presence before I see or hear him.

"There you are, doll. I've been looking for you all day," Bucky calls, his deep, smooth voice cascading into my very soul. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to not let it show on my face how jarring it was to be snapped from the book to the person I've been trying to avoid.

"You've been looking for me?" I ask, managing to make my voice seem calm and pleasant. He approaches where I'm sitting on the floor, a breath-stealing smile tugging at his lips.

"Course I have, I haven't seen you in days," He replies, his face the picture of relaxed calm, drawing a fierce dichotomy to the barely-veiled confliction on my own. Bucky takes a moment, surveying me sitting on the floor amidst all of the chairs and couches available. He lifts an amused brow at me.

"Why are you on the floor?"

I can't stop myself from smiling up at him and all control I had in keeping myself away from him disintegrates, "It's more comfortable to me. Are you judging me Barnes?"

His laugh bursts light into the depths of me, and as I watch his face relax I can't help but look on in awe at how far he's come. When he first joined the team, he was withdrawn and quiet and even grumpier than he is now. He never smiled, never laughed, and barely spoke. Now, of course he's adorably grumpy most of the time, but he smiles and laughs. He enjoys life, and he more than anyone else in this world deserves to enjoy life.

"What're you reading?" Bucky asks, and I try to ignore the way my pulse rockets up when he settles down beside me on the floor.

He stretches out his long legs, keeping the one furthest from me bent and resting his arm on top it. His other leg is stretched out and nearly touching my own. To help balance his weight, he settles the hand closest to me, his metal hand, onto a spot on the floor behind my back. The position makes his chest brush against my shoulder ever so slightly and all I can feel is the burning of his presence and the searing of his gaze.

"Just some fantasy book," I reply, not wanting to bore him.

I look over at him to see his eyes already on my face, his own radiating a serene peace. He furrows his brows at my prolonged examination of his features and the ghost of a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just," My mouth has gone dry again, and I can't seem to clear the haze on my mind, "You look at peace."

"Well someone pretty incredible suggested rain therapy, which works like a charm for my grumpiness."

A laugh bubbles out of me, only widening the smile on his face. I find myself subconsciously leaning into his presence and bringing our faces closer.

"Seriously," Bucky continues, making me realize our proximity and pull back to a normal distance, "I'm always at peace around you."

My heart doesn't just miss a step, it stumbles and falls and nearly gives out in my chest. His words affect every part of me and it's a feat of pure resilience that I don't reach over and press my lips to his.

"Unless you're doing something stupid and testing my nerves," He adds on, lightening the air and making me giggle. He nods towards the almost forgotten book in my hands.

"You were going to tell me about your new read," Bucky reminds, and I smile.

I spend the next ten minutes detailing what's happening in the book, my excitement about it taking over and making me ramble on without barely taking any breaths. I occasionally look between the book and Bucky, sometimes gesturing with my hands to establish my enthusiasm.

Even when I'm not looking at him, Bucky's gaze never leaves my face.

So much for giving myself space to try and move on from him. That thought is far from my mind, though. The longer I’m near him, the closer he is, the harder it is to remember to forget him. And now, with Tony’s Gala tomorrow night, I don’t know how I’m going to move on.

Maybe I really can give this one last shot. It could break me if it goes wrong, but I have a feeling I’ll break a little regardless.

|||

The next night

Not even the pounding of the music and the chatter and clatter of hundreds of guests can drown out my racing mind.

“Stop tugging at your dress, you look great,” Natasha chides from beside me.

With a huff of anxiety, I heed her words and stop fiddling with the snug material of the one-sleeved dress. It hugs my curves down to my waist before draping elegantly to the floor, broken only by the high slit up the thigh.

“I know,” I reply, downing my second drink of the night and setting down the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with a brief smile, “I just haven’t seen him yet. He’s coming right? Tony told us all to be here, so he wouldn’t just-”

“Why does there have to be so many people here?”

My words die out at the distant but unmissable rumble of words behind me. I turn around, and my entire world seems to focus on the epicenter that is Bucky Barnes as he walks in beside Sam Wilson.

“It’s a party man, I thought you loved parties back in the day,” Sam replies, smiling at a few people as he walks in.

“Yeah well I don’t like people like I did then,” Bucky grumbles back, messing with the edges of his all-black suit that is tailored so perfectly that it hones every inch of his body.

His broad shoulders, his muscular form, his piercing blue eyes in a fierce dichotomy with the darkness of the getup…I almost trip in my heels.

“You don’t like any people? That breaks my heart, Barnes,” I manage out coolly, walking up to the pair with a half-smile tugging on my lips and my heart dancing with the butterflies within.

Bucky’s gaze turns from the party goers to where I walk up to them, and a part of me melts at the way a light filters into his features. His dashing smile makes my own grow before I can stop it. The way he simply stops for a moment and stares at me, as if the throngs of people around us don’t exist…

It’s more than an effort to shove my poor heart into its shackles.

“I guess you’re an exception, doll,” He amends, and Sam rolls his eyes beside Bucky as they stop before me.

“It’s not like I’m right here,” Sam announces, making me giggle slightly and look to him.

“Hey Sam, good to see you,” I greet, walking over and hugging the man. He hugs me back, smiling brightly.

“Good to see you too,” Sam responds, his eyes catching on something over my shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe there are some fans who need me.”

I laugh as I watch him walk over and greet a group of women by the bar. When I turn back to Bucky, I shove down my nerves and shake my head as I pull him into a hug.

“You look incredible, Buck,” I announce, trying to ignore the rightness of his body against mine as he pulls me into a hug that lasts a moment more than I should have let it.

“Y/N,” he deadpans, pulling back but leaving his arms on my waist to admire me. His eyes sparkle with something akin to awe that makes hope rise in my chest, “You put me and everyone else in this room to shame.”

“You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror,” I remark, desperately trying to not show all over my face how beautiful he is.

Bucky just smiles. He looks at me and he smiles and I am undone.

My eyes catch on Natasha over Bucky’s shoulder as she mingles in the background of the party. When our gazes meet she gestures to Bucky with a hand, mounting the words ‘Come on’ as she does. Nodding back to her, I remember the conversation we had a few days ago and right before we joined the gala. I have to be bold and make a move, take a chance before I lose the ability to do so.

“So,” I turn back to Bucky, smiling knowingly up at him, “How’re you doing with the whole party thing?”

Bucky takes in a breath, nodding his head slightly as he surveys the party scene around us. Drinks are flowing, laughs rising, and music is permeating through every sector of the Avengers Compound. The floor shakes with the base and the clattering of shoes as he looks back to me, “Oh you know, just fantastic.”

“Is that so?” I taunt, almost laughing at the dripping sarcasm in his voice. He shoots me a grumpy glare that finally unleashes my laugh. At the sound, Bucky’s features soften and a smile touches his lips. I notice this and furrow my brows up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, just holding that’s soft smile in his eyes that makes me almost forget the track of the conversation. When I snap myself from my daze, I gasp.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I exclaim, holding my clutch up and opening it to find what I stashed earlier, “I know how you are with parties like this and all so I thought that this might help make it a better memory.”

“You got me a gift?” Bucky asks, shaking his head at me with furrowed brows, “You should have told me, I would’ve gotten you something too!”

I shake my head, finally finding what I’m looking for and glancing up at Bucky, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

With a bright smile to cover my pounding, anxious heart, I hold out the small book in my hands. Bucky glances down at the gift I hold out, and I watch his body go still. Anticipation dances in my belly as he ever so gently reaches out and takes the old, fading The Hobbit novel into his hands.

“It’s a first edition, don’t ask me how I found it,” I inform, playing with the fabric of my dress to give my now empty hands something to do, “I know how much you loved it and now when you’re watching me read in the library, you can read too.”

My words ring out between us, and yet Bucky barely moves. Just when I’m beginning to grow nervous, my heart melts into a puddle in my chest when he lifts his steel-eyed gaze to me. I’ve never seen him cry before, but here and now I can see the lining of unshed tears in his gaze.

“Buck-"

He closes the distance between us, pulling me so close to him that there’s no room for separation. I melt into the hug, becoming nothing more than an extension of his body. There’s no him. There’s no me. There’s only us as we’re suspended in time, caught in this moment.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbles, not moving back an inch and letting his voice cascade over my neck and down my spine, “You don’t know what this means to me.”

Reluctantly, I pull back. Every part of me shouts in protest, but I know we have to separate as some point. I give him a soft smile, trying to ignore the noose that’s slowly tightening around my heart. I’m a goner. I have no chance of recovery.

“Don’t mention it,”

Bucky stares at me for another moment, the charged silence soon taking on an anticipated feel. We’re both waiting for the other to make the first move, I can sense it. I see Nat nudge me from afar again and decide to finally muster up my courage and stop waiting. I notice Bucky shakes his head at something, mumbling something to himself, but I press on.

“Hey, do you wanna da-”

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Bucky bursts out at almost the same instant, making me cut off my sentence quickly.

A drink? He’s going to get a drink right now, as soon as I was about to ask him to dance? I know he didn’t mean it as a rejection, but it still stings like one.

“Oh, uh yeah sure. That’s-”

Before I can even finish speaking, Bucky has darted away desperately towards the bar at the North side of the room near Sam. I stand dumbfounded, my heart slowly sinking. This is going to be much harder than I thought.

|||

It's been nearly an hour and a half and Bucky is still managing to be everywhere that I am not.

I can take a hint. Even if that hint shatters my soul a little.

As I watch the super soldier mingle with some of the guests, a polite and slightly annoyed smile on his face, I feel something snap within my chest. Here I am, lounging pathetically at the bar all alone, and there he is, my best friend who I can't seem to fall out of love with. His strong jaw and steel eyes don't dare to turn in my direction, and I feel my fracturing soul crack even more.

I have to let it go. I have to let it go. I have to let him go.

With a long sigh, I pick up the drink before me and down its contents, letting the burn soothe away the edge of the crawling pain in my chest. Once the glass is slammed back down on the bar counter, I steel my nerves and stand.

It's time I stop feeling sorry for myself and move on.

My eyes scan the thick crowd scattered throughout every inch of Tony's gala. Music radiates through every molecule of air, and just one glance at the dance floor has my feet moving before my brain is. As I walk over to the dance floor, I see a random guy standing with a few others. He's cute enough with a charming smile, so I grab his arm as I walk past, making him glance over at me. I flash him my best smile and tug him towards the dance floor.

"Dance with me?" I ask boldly, and his smile widens.

"I'd be honored," He replies, letting me pull him onto the dance floor.

I should let myself be whisked away into the music and the movements and the feel of his hands on my hips as we dance. I should let the base and the crowd and the charming man before me wipe away every thought, but I just...can't. All I can think about when his hands slide gently on my waist is how different it feels when those hands are Bucky's. My heart is crushing slowly, and so I do everything I can to forget it.

It's actually beginning to work until the music abruptly cuts out.

Groans and boo's arise from the crowd with me on the dance floor as we all look around, trying to figure out why the music's stopped. "That's so weird," The nice guy I'm dancing with mumbles. I mention my agreement, my eyes sweeping the edges of the party before I catch a glint of dark metal. My eyes fly back to the metal only to see Bucky storming away from the sound booth, his metal fist clenched so hard that I'm surprised it doesn't malfunction. In his metal grasp is a hunk of wires, and my stomach drops.

He did not.

"Don't worry folks! I'll have the music back up in no time," Tony announces, flashing his winning smile to the crowd as he jogs to the sound booth, "There was a slight malfunction"

I see him shoot Bucky a glare, but true to his words the music is back up in a matter of minutes. I feel anger begin to make my blood boil and I pull away from the guy I was dancing with. I see a frown pull onto his face as he lets me go but follows me a few steps.

"Are you okay?" He calls after me, and my heart twists in sympathy. I must look absolutely furious and he probably thinks it's pointed at him. So, I do my best to give him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm alright, thanks for the dance. I needed it," I comment, before turning and continuing my beeline for the brooding super soldier in the corner. He's standing with Sam, muttering something that I can't hear as I finally break through the crowd and walk up to them.

"Here we go," Sam mumbles, slowly backing away as I come to a stop in front of Bucky.

"What the hell, James?" I grit out.

"Oh she used the first name," Sam comments, his eyes widening, "I'm going to go check on Steve."

Then he leaves, and it's just Bucky and I. Bucky just shrugs, not meeting my furious gaze.

"I don't know what you're so mad about but-"

"Oh really? So you didn't just rip out the sound system?" I accuse, crossing my arms over my chest. He finally turns and meets my gaze, and damn it all I can't stop the swooning of my heart at the dark, rugged look on his face.

I'm angry, I remind myself. I'm angry with him.

"What does that have to do with you, sweetheart?"

I scoff, shaking my head at him, "You are unbelievable! I was finally starting to have a good night and-"

"Dancing with that handsy prick makes your night a good night then?" He interrupts, and I have to fight to keep the smug look off of my face at catching him.

"What were you saying about this having nothing to do with me?" I fire back, lifting an eyebrow. Bucky clenches his jaw and takes a step closer to me, probably expecting me to back off. I don't. Instead, I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, trying and failing to seem taller than him.

"I don't like you dancing with other men like that," Bucky informs, his voice dark. He's so close to me that his whiskey and pine scent invades my senses, threatening to empty my head of the argument at hand.

"I can dance with whoever the hell I want, Barnes. And since certain people made it very clear they didn't want to dance with me, then certain people should have no say in who I dance with"

"I don't dance, Y/N." His eyes are cool fire and they sear right through me. Even in this heated argument, all I can seem to think about is how badly I want him, body and soul. My thoughts are banished when he spits his next words out, "Not with you, not with anyone."

It shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't. So why do I have to fight to keep the hurt off of my face?

Just like that, the fire in my argument is gone. I nod, taking a few steps back, "Okay, that's all you had to say."

And then I turn around and leave before he can see the tears welling in my gaze.

I force myself into the crowd, making sure I move quickly and weave myself between those around me to get away as fast as possible. Then, with my heart in my throat, I finally make it to the outskirts of the party where a glass sliding door leads out into a training field. Through the glass, I can see rain pouring down into the dark, almost moonless night.

Seeing it unravels a bit of the pain within my chest, and I don't even think as I slip off my heels and walk outside. I shut the door behind me, muting the sounds of the party and leaving the downpour of rain and the distant rumble of thunder to take over my senses. I set my heels down carefully and walk out into the field, barely jumping when the cool, refreshing droplets begin to pound into my skin. It's not long before I'm soaked and my entire outfit is ruined. I don't mind, though. I'm not planning on going back there anyways.

I sit down in the grass, not even minding how it dirties my dress, and hug my knees close. When I slip my eyes shut, I'm reminded why I love the rain so much.

In moments like this, I can't distinguish my tears from the rain

I don't know how long I sit like this, my eyes shut and the rain drenching me. Eventually, my body stops shaking from the sobs that have now subsided and any evidence of my breakdown has been washed away. I'm almost at peace when I hear that voice, that stupid, addicting voice, ring out behind me through the storm.

"I'd say you'll catch a cold, but I don't think you'd care much"

I swallow hard, cursing my heart for the way it jumps. I open my eyes, but keep my gaze firmly forward across the training field.

"Especially since it's coming from you," I add on, grateful for the lack of tremor in my words.

"I guess I deserved that one," Bucky concedes softly, his voice getting closer. My body begins to shiver with the anticipation of him being close, the response purely visceral and out of my control. I just hope he thinks it's from the rain.

"You think?" I scoff lightly, not having the strength to be angry anymore.

It's silent for a long while, and I almost begin to think that he's left and gone back inside. I'm proven otherwise when I see Bucky walk out from behind me, standing right in front of where I sit with my knees drawn to my chest. Against my better judgement, I look up.

And there he is, drenched like I am and an unreadable look upon his stupidly handsome face.

"Bucky-"

He extends out his human hand, and my words die, "Dance with me."

Every part of my heart beams, and it’s an effort to keep the fluttering of my heart out of my body language. I pause for a moment, almost as if to give him time to retract his hand. When he doesn’t, I hesitantly meet his gaze.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” I whisper. His half-smile grows as he looks down at me with what almost looks like…adoration.

“I don’t,” Bucky confirms, his voice like sugar and pine, “But for you I’d do anything”

I can’t even try to hide the visceral effect his words have on me. With a thousand butterflies batting in my stomach and my heart beating viscously out of rhythm, I allow a small smile to grow on my lips. A new excitement in my chest, I reach up and slip my hand into his large, rough one calloused with work and time. It fits mine perfectly, as always, and his touch muddles my senses and wakes me up all at once, as always.

As he helps me stand, the rain still pouring down on us, he tugs me close to him so suddenly that I stumble right into his chest. A small laugh escapes my lips as I catch myself on his broad chest. Bucky’s so close, so warm, so intoxicating to me that every fiber of my being yearns for his proximity. I’m nothing but a firing hum of nerves and sparks being this close to him, with a hand on his chest and his arm secured around my waist.

And we dance.

There’s no music, there’s no reason. We just dance. Bucky’s magnificent at it, every step dripping in ease and cool confidence that only makes me love him more. I’m so caught in the moment that every thought of a reciprocated or unrequited love has been banished from my mind. All that exists is here and now, underneath the downpour of the heavens with the cacophony of nature as our song.

He twirls me around, making water splash up and a giggle bubble out of me when I slip and fall directly into him. His body rumbles with low laughter when he catches me stopping my fall. Bucky doesn’t even have to say a word for me to know he’s making fun of me, so I slap his chest with a huff of laughter.

“What?” Bucky’s amused voice is the harmony to the melody of the rain.

“I can feel your judgement from here,” I point out, but before I can raise my lightened gaze to meet his on my own, a metal hand hooks under my chin and gently turns my face up until our eyes clash.

Suddenly, I’m not so humored anymore.

Neither is he, I can tell. The air is different—still light with joy but now corded with something deep, rich, and intangible. His piercing blue eyes seem to be burdened with a million different thoughts, but I can barely bring myself to breathe let alone ask him what is going through his beautiful mind.

Bucky doesn’t say a single word, though. He doesn’t have to. My eyes glance down to his lips for no more than one half of a second, and by the time I’ve returned my gaze to his, he’s closing to distance between us and connecting his lips to mine.

I’ve never understood what is so special about kissing in the rain. I get it now. There’s something so dichotomously beautiful in this moment, in the cold, relentless rain and the desperate, burning heat of Bucky’s lips moving against my own.

Again, no words are needed for us both to understand. This kiss is everything that has been bottling up over our friendship. It’s every quiet moment in the library and loud moment in our arguments. As his hands tug me closer and ignite my skin as if it were burning clean off, as his lips and tongue move with mine, every thought and worry and tear-filled, longing night washes away. The very thought makes me sigh into the kiss, and finally we break apart only for the need for air.

Bucky doesn’t let me pull away an inch.

His arms keep my locked close, his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath. He nudged my nose with his before pulling away only enough to meet my gaze. One hand of his cradles my jaw, his thumb running lazy circles on my cheek.

“Does this mean you like me?” I whisper, a humored glint already lighting my gaze. Bucky laughs roughly, his voice sending shivers down my spine that don't go unnoticed. Rather, the other hand he keeps on my waist lifts to absently trace the path of the shiver, almost making my knees go weak.

“I more than like you,” Bucky quips, a content smile taking over his features. My heart misses a step and I don’t dare to dream.

“You really like me?” I taunt, and another heart-warming laugh pours from those perfect lips.

“You’re gonna make me say it, doll?”

I swallow thickly, my eyes not leaving his. I don’t dare to say another word, leaving the challenge up to him. Bucky sighs, moving the hand he keeps on my spine to cradle the other side of my face, now cupping it in his full grasp. He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back enough to where his lips still graze mine as he speaks.

“I love you, Y/N. Always have. Always will.”

My knees nearly go weak, and suddenly I'm so very grateful for the rain's ability to hide what is a drop and what is a tear. I'd never hear the end of it from him if he knew that's what his confession brought me to. When one of thumbs catches a stray tear, though, I know he's fully aware.

"I love you too, Buck."

Bucky smirks before me, bringing his mouth close to my ear and sending another shiver racing down my spine, "I figured that much out, sweetheart"

"Oh whatever!" I announce, hitting his shoulder but leaning in closer to his mouth that now trails from my jaw back to my lips. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips before holding me close to his chest and looking up into the sky that downpours upon us.

"Rain therapy, I guess it really does work," Bucky remarks.

"I would say I told you so, but-" I'm cut off by Bucky suddenly grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Bucky calls up to me, spinning me slightly and only making me giggle louder.

"Bucky, I'm in a dress!" I protest. He slaps my ass smugly and begins to walk with me still over his shoulder back to the compound.

"I know, let's get you out of that"

As my laugh tumbles out of my mouth, it twirls and dances and gets lost with the pounding of the rain and the rolling of the thunder. Once again, I'm in the debt of the rain, and I can't help but smile at it gratefully as my best friend and the love of my life walks triumphantly with me over his shoulder into the midst of Tony's nice party. Neither of us care about the looks we receive, though. Neither of us even notices.

All we see is the rain and each other.

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