#bye nip
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scumpatrol · 5 months ago
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"theres no nipple ok.png" + "theres no nipple here either ok.png"
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explodingpiratedino · 2 years ago
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s-escapist · 2 years ago
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IM ALIVE I SWEAR
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Anyway Have my attempt on macaque
I love him but why does he act like he's a cat soemtimes 😔
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phagodyke · 1 year ago
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okay can we have a new rule that if you're my friend and know I struggle with rsd from adhd + you're planning on hanging out with mutual friends but specifically aren't inviting me for whatever reason. Maybe Don't Tell Me About It
#id just rather not know man. even if I cant go or dont particularly want to im going to get stung by it and it rly sucks#its a TON of extra effort i have to put in to emotionally navigate that information without overreacting and making it an issue#wait actually maybe i do need to sit down with her and explain this more explicitly. bc she probably doesnt rly know abt it#even tho ive mentioned it shes rly terrible at reading ppl and i probably dont let on much abt it anyway bc im used to dealing w it#ugh. but also its rly embarrassing to talk abt and ill have to tread so carefully to make sure it doesnt get misinterpreted. hmm#but itd be worth it if she stopped so. ill give it some thought#it makes me feel so unreal sometimes bc i cant always tell if im justifiably upset or if im 'just overreacting' so i assume the latter-#most of the time to give myself space to work thru the emotion and minimise the damage i might cause if i AM just overreacting#but then sometimes later on i realise that it was justified but its too late to bring it back up and anyway ive worked through it#and idk. theres smth self disrespectful abt it all im tired of making space all the time and never taking any up myself#im not THAT upset rn like this is a v minor thing but still. might be time to start nipping this stuff in the bud#aaanyway#im procrastinating eating bc i cooked a nice meal but now im not in the mood to eat it 😭😭 but i gotta fuel up.....#ill find smth to watch hopefully thatll do the trick#yawns so loud bye for now#.diaries
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sakurasunshine · 5 months ago
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Tagged: @cece-ilia
Today was… it was kinda nice. . . . :)
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johndonneswife · 2 years ago
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What are you most excited about this week, and why is it two pounds of yummy yogurt?
@seasurfacefullofclouds1 how dare you send me the meanest anon i’ve ever received in my entire life…disgusting
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healmydesires · 3 months ago
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sweet like sugar ꕤ (l.h)
part one
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pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: Now that Logan was finally able to call you his, he couldn’t get enough of you.
OR
Logan fucks you from behind.
genre: fluff + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 3,7k
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, literally the scene right after this fic, porn with NO plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, inexperienced!reader, hint at loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, doggy style, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, logan talks you thru it. a lot more daddy kink in this one ngl. HEAVY ON THE BREEDING kink aaaaa sorry. I am still ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? reader is also ovulating bye. lots of pet names. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant but it’s not really mentioned in this part tho. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! I finished part two that I wanted to originally post in the main fic but it kinda felt out of place idk either way!! I’m posting it now 🤪 I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 this is just smut😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating…
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
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Logan manhandled your body, guiding your body so that you were lying on your stomach. He manoeuvred you in the position he wanted you to be. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumped slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.
You whimpered, feeling his eyes on your wet heat as it clenched repeatedly, aching and begging to be filled all over again and again. Logan growled as he stared at your entrance as your combined cum dripped down your hole, as you continued to clench around nothing. Your body trembled with anticipation.
Logan had made sure you’d cum several times before he took you for the first time. Before tonight, you were so inexperienced, a virgin actually. Now, all you could think about was that you wanted and needed him to continue and fuck you for hours, filling your pussy with his cum over and over again.
He leaned over you, covering your whole body with his own. Logan nuzzled your neck as he littered your skin with his kisses. You writhed against him, wishing he was just pushing his cock in you already and filling you up in the best way.
The air was stuffy all around you, each harsh breath released only thickening it up, leaving your skin hot and your mind fuzzy. Logan groaned into your ear, mouthing kisses along your neck, tongue trailing down the junction between your neck and shoulder before he gently nipped your skin.
Logan reached down to grasp his cock to line up with your tight entrance. He rubbed his tip firmly over your pulsing hole. Your mind was all over the place as his ministrations continued.
“Fuck, can’t wait to fill you up again.”
His breath caught in his throat as his cock smeared his pre cum against your already cum filled hole. The usual restraint between his mind and his words seemed to vanish, as words tumbled from his mouth.
“I wonder if you can handle this position already.” He whispered almost to himself as his hands kneaded your ass cheeks. “Your tiny pussy could barely handle my cock earlier…”
“No, daddy… I can take your big cock.” You whined desperately as you tried to push your hips against his own, hoping he’d enter your pussy again. You were squirming, as you kept trying to push his cock inside you, but Logan had a strong hold on you, which made it hard for you to move around too much. “I’m daddy’s good girl.”
At your words Logan growled, grasping your hips and tilting them more and pushed your trembling legs further apart.
Logan inhaled sharply. “You smell so good, kitten. I can smell your fertility. Your little pussy is practically begging for my cum.” He murmured against your ear. Your cheeks flushed with heat at his words. Logan continued as he pressed tender kisses down your neck, “Can’t wait to breed this pussy again and again with my cock. All night.” Logan moaned and you hissed at the heated sensation of his cock, your eyelids fluttering when you felt it press against your entrance.
A broken gasp left your lips as he finally slid the tip inside you. You felt his body moving behind you, sitting up against you, and you knew his eyes were on your pussy. He watched as your walls spread to try and begin to wrap around him. You whimpered at the new angle as you tried to accommodate his girth. He could barely get more of it in your tight walls at first, eventually using more force to open you up for him. It felt like you were being torn open, split in half.
“D-d-daddy…” you stuttered and mewled.
“I know baby girl, I know.” Logan moaned as he gradually slid more of his thickness inside you and you trembled more underneath him. Your pulsing walls were wrapped tightly around his cock, as your soaked pussy pulled him in more. The pressure of his massive dick deep within your walls overwhelmed you while you clutched the sheets below you in tight fists.
Logan towered over you, as he pushed more of his length inside you, his gaze focused on your clenching hole as his dick slowly disappeared more and more inside you.
You arched your back as you clung onto the bed sheets for dear life, nails digging into the comforters. You couldn’t keep quiet, little mewls and whimpers tumbled past your lips with ease as Logan slid inside.
“Ah, daddy… so big.” You whined.
“You take me so well, pretty girl. Doing so good for daddy.” He moaned as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your cheek, as he kept pushing more of his girth in you slowly. Every time Logan would slide more inside your pussy would squeeze around him. You knew he was barely halfway in, still you felt so full.
“So full…”
“I know my sweet girl, I know. You’re doing so well, soon you’ll be filled with all of daddy’s cock.”
The whines and whimpers and moans kept spilling from your lips as Logan continued to push deeper and deeper. Your hands trembled as they gripped the sheets between your fingers while he penetrated your tight walls.
“P-please, need more. I can handle it daddy…” you whimpered as you tried to push back your trembling body against him, his cock sliding deeper inside you.
He groaned at your desperate whines and as you pushed back against him , losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his thick cock all the way inside your wetness. The head of his cock touched your cervix once he bottoms out. A scream left your mouth as you trembled underneath him, your pussy trying to adjust to his size as it clenched around his cock. You pushed your head into the pillows as pathetic whimpers kept falling from your lips.
“Christ, you’re so warm—fuck—so tight,” he growled, rambling without a thought, too enveloped in the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around him.
You moaned and squeezed around his cock at his words, leaving him panting above you. Both of his hands moved to grab at your ass cheeks, kneading them slowly and gently.
“God, sweetheart, you’re so fucking hot… and wet. How are you this tight?” Logan groaned — the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through the air.
There was an intense pressure deep within your stomach — Logan’s thick cock throbbed erratically inside you. The feeling of him nestled so deep within you had you sighing in pleasure. There was still a dull ache — from how wide he stretched you out; your walls pulled apart to their limits — but pleasure soon replaced the stinging ache. Gradually, you adjusted to Logan’s size and with an experimental swivel of your hips, you cried out in pleasure.
Fingers were digging harder into your ass, soft grunts and pants escaped his lips as you moved your hips slowly back against him. “Fuck— that’s it, baby. Grind all over my cock—you feel so good,” Logan growled as his head fell back. The soft murmuring of his voice ripped through the room, the sounds of his own pleasure intermingled with yours.
“Fuck, Logaaaan,” you whined — drawing out the syllables of his name. His hands were still on your ass — holding the plump flesh in his large hands while he squeezed and spread them apart.
Pleasure seeped into your veins, and you began grinding and squeezing more feverishly against him. Short gasps of pleasure slipped from your lips, as you felt his cock pulse inside your tight walls.
“Kitten, fuck, I can’t wait anymore. Need to fuck you.” He slurred and panted above you — euphoric elation dripped from his words. Your stomach twisted — the heat inside caused your stomach to flip and turn with every one of your movements. “Need to breed this pussy.”
“Ah, Lo—”
Both your breaths laboured as you’d feel his hips move, quickly pulling himself almost all the way out of your pussy, as you whined at the empty feeling. “Such a needy pussy.” Logan growled before he thrust himself all the way inside your cunt again.
“Ah ah fuck, daddy… oh my god—” you hiccup as he moved his hips slowly but hard against yours. You cried out as he thrust so deep inside you that it had your body slumping against the bed. Your pussy continued to pulse and squeeze around his thickness, as it tried to adjust to its girth still.
“Pussy needs to be filled all the time ain’t that right?” He groaned as he punctuated every word with a thrust.
You moaned loudly as you arched your back and pressed your ass up against him. He grabbed your asscheeks, keeping the angle perfect as he rolled his hips deeply into yours. You felt his cock throbbing inside you as you tightened around him.
He was so deep, hitting your cervix repeatedly which made your eyes roll back in your head.
“F-fuck baby girl, you’re so sexy like this.” Logan slowly picked up his pace at the sight of you throwing your head back. “You’re all mine, isn’t that right kitten?”
With every thrust, you couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure. Not only was Logan’s cock thick, but he was incredibly long too, his length just slightly curved: which allowed his head to drag against that sweet spot inside you.
Large hands moved to your hips, Logan gripped them tightly as he helped you move against him. Every movement had hot spikes of pleasure jolting across your skin, your toes curled in elation while your stomach twisted and knots violently. The ecstatic bliss of your impending orgasm called to you and you began bouncing your ass against him.
“Ah, y-yes yes yes, I’m all yours. P-please please f-fuuuck, I need m-mo—” you begged and you’re unable to finish your sentence as he gave you a particularly hard thrust.
You felt your arms almost giving out on you because of the force of his thrusts. Logan’s hands were clawing at the sides of your hips, guiding you with him, and he leaned down to place kisses on your upper back, his kisses travelled down your spine, until he leaned back up and just watched you as he fucked into you from behind.
Skin melded together, your sweat acting as a glue, you lost yourself into the feel of Logan. Your mind goes blank as all you could do was focus on the feeling of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrust deeper inside you, which earned him whines and moans as you continued to cry out his name. You tried to tell him, breathlessly, about how good he made you feel.
The sound of your pleasure fuelled his desire to fuck you better, urged him to do more.
Logan picked up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that had your body going numb.
From above you, Logan fucked harder — his cock thrusting deeper into you. The additional sensation caused you to whimper, your pussy twitched as sheer, unadulterated bliss began flitting through your bloodstream. You were close — so close you could practically taste your orgasm; even if your mouth was completely dry from gasping his name and calling him daddy over and over again.
You clawed at the sheets, burying your face into the pillow to muffle your screams. The air was all stuffy around you as his hips moved faster, you whimpered as you tried to push back your hips against his to take more of his big cock. Your tiny pussy was so full of him, still trying to accommodate his thick girth as it pulsed and tightened around him. Logan moaned at the sight, kneading your ass as he tried to bury himself more inside you, his tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes rolled back inside your head once again as you dug your fingers more into the bed, you mewled against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.
You whined loudly as he shifted inside you, the new angle made him hit your sensitive spot inside you.
“Fuuuck,” Logan moaned. Your pussy was so wet and warm around him, your walls squeezed his cock with every thrust, “feels so good, kitten. You’re taking daddy’s cock so well.”
Your noises became louder and higher pitched as he continued his assault on your pussy, indicating that you were getting closer as well as the lewd sounds of your pussy that kept meeting his cock over and over again. The sounds mixed so well with your desperate cries.
Logan couldn’t help it, you looked so pretty like this. Fucked out beneath him and so fucking full of his cock, the closer he got to his orgasm the more the images of you filled with his cum consumed his thoughts.
“Your pussy is so tight and wet around me, begging me to fill you up in other ways… begging for my cum.” He groaned as he thrust harder into your heat. “Begging for me to breed her.”
“God, daddy-daddy please. Fuck I—” You whined as your eyes rolled back inside your head.
“What do you want, kitten?” He groaned while one of his hands reached around you to slip against your clit as you writhed against him as he applied pressure. The pleasure had the tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, dying for your release.
Suddenly, everything became too much: the pressure against your clit, his grunts, the sticky, sweaty feeling, his scent, his warmth, the drilling of his cock inside you. Just everything. You tried to catch your breath but from how Logan was thrusting inside you and the rubbing against your clit it felt almost impossible to do so.
“F-feels s-soo— F-fuck, I-I, daddyyyy—”
“Look at you,” he chuckled breathlessly, “so cock drunk and so fucked out you can barely talk.” He whispered once he leaned down as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, as he picked up his pace once again. He fucked you so fast and hard that you swore you never moaned so loud in your life. “Don’t worry, I think I know what you need.”
He leaned his body completely against yours as he continued to hit against your cervix repeatedly while one of his hands kept rubbing your little bundle of nerves. “Feels good doesn’t it, sweet girl?” You whimpered and trembled underneath him as you nodded, he moaned against your ear before he whispered close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you wanted it.”
“Y-yes! F-feels sooooo so gooood, Looo—” you whined as he continued to hit your sensitive spots inside you. Logan’s fingers kept pressing down on your little nub making you squirm. The tension continued to build up as the pleasure became too overwhelming.
“That’s right, princess.”
Logan snapped his hips into you again and again, thrusting deep, causing you to see stars from knowing just how to pleasure you. You felt like your head was swimming once again as you whined. “I’m sooo so close, p-please… daddy… I’ve been such a good girl.” you begged desperately. You only needed one more little push, a little bit more attention to finally reach your peak again.
“Yes, you’ve been such a good girl for daddy.” He panted above you.
You cried out for him, your moans almost sounding like his name as he moved his head down again, pressing kisses all over the side of your face down your neck.
“Can’t wait, fuck—“ he breathed, he stopped himself to let out a loud groan, “can’t wait to fill you up. I keep dreaming about filling you up nice and good. ”
The words made you keen and pulse around his cock, as you moaned his name into the warm air of your bedroom. You wanted more, needed to hear more, wanted to know what else he wanted, what else he dreamed of but your voice was strangled, your brain incapable of forming a sentence.
“I keep dreaming about breeding this pussy until you’re fuckin’ pregnant.” He grunted before he whispered in your ear, “be a good girl and cum for daddy.”
“Fuck, oh my god,” you cried, a shrill wail as Logan’s words went straight to your pussy. Your cunt gushed all over Logan’s cock as he never stopped. His thrusts were hard and deep, enough to turn your vision starry.
“That’s it… that’s it, let go pretty girl.” He murmured lowly into your ear.
His hips never slowed down as he massaged your clit. And then the coil in your lower tummy snapped, your eyes rolled back into your head while you arched your back as your world dissolved into pure ecstasy. You couldn’t stop yourself from shaking as he talked you through it. You almost blacked out because of the intensity of your orgasm, trembling like crazy. You whimpered as the overstimulation got to you.
“Doing so good for me, baby.” He groaned as his pace became more erratic, with less finesse as he charged towards his own finish line. “Daddy wants to fill you up. N-need to fuck my cum into you, kitten. Breed you and get you nice and full…”
Your walls pulsed and tightened around him as he continued to hit your sweet spot inside you. He groaned as his movements became more sloppy. He cried out your name with a gasping breath. Loud mewls left your lips as he finally spilled his seed inside you, coating each inch of you with a warmth that pooled deep inside you. An instant wave of pleasure rolled throughout your body as he filled you up with his hot cum.
“Ah...” you whimpered underneath him as your body continued to shake.
He kept fucking his cock inside of you, fucking his cum deep inside of you until he was satisfied. Logan exhaled deeply as he came down from his high, his body slumping against your own. His cock was still lodged deep inside you, still half hard as he kept the cum inside your pussy. You whimpered as your pussy pulsed around him, as it kept clenching repeatedly around his still hard length.
You tried to catch your breath as Logan groaned while you continued tightening involuntarily around him. “Kitten,” he warned breathlessly, “don’t do that.”
“I can’t really help it.” You said under your breath.
He gently pulled out of your tiny spent hole, making you whimper at the loss and you felt his eyes on you, knowing that he watched his seed drool out of you. Your legs were spread wide, and your pussy slightly gaping from where he’d fucked you open. But he was much more focused on how his cum leaked out of you, his seed dripping down your hole. Chest swelling with pride, he couldn’t help but let out a lazy smile.Your pussy continued to clench repeatedly around nothing and he groaned at the sight. Logan made sure to plunge his pointer finger into your hole as you gasped, stuffing you back up with your shared cum.
You winced at the sensation, a whimper slipped from your lips at the sensitivity. Pressing a kiss to your knee, “We’ll have to clean you up,” Logan mumbled, even as he continued pushing his fingers inside you.
“Not now, I’m tired,” you murmured back whiningly. When the ache of oversensitivity got too much, you bat Logan’s hand away before you closed your legs.
With a low laugh, Logan pressed an apologetic kiss to your knee before picking you up effortlessly, making you yelp in surprise. “Up you go.” You were about to complain that you could walk perfectly to the bathroom on your own, when you felt sore and your legs felt incredibly numb.
Once he reached the bathroom, he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub all while running the water and surprising you with your favourite bath bomb, to create a bubble bath. It brought a smile to your face knowing he knew so much about you.
“Logan… how is it that you always know what I need?” You whispered as you looked at him dreamily.
“Isn’t that what your best friend and new boyfriend should know?” He gave you a teasing smile.
“Either way, thank you.” You whispered before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
You leaned into Logan's gentle support as the tub filled. When it was ready, he carefully lifted you and helped you into the warm water. Looking up, you moved towards the centre, silently inviting him to join. Logan eased in behind you, and you shifted forward slightly so he could settle comfortably. The soothing warmth enveloped you both as you relaxed against him, relaxing instantly in the peaceful moment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
His strong arms encircled your waist, drawing you closer until you were nestled securely against him. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the solid warmth of his chest behind you. The gentle rise and fall of his breathing was soothing, and you found yourself relaxing even further.
“I love you,” he whispered, his breath soft against your ear. His lips then traced a tender path down your neck, each kiss a gentle affirmation of his words. The sweet gesture sent a pleasant shiver through you.
A smile spread across your face as you settled deeper into his embrace, feeling utterly at peace. The moment felt perfect — safe, warm, and full of affection. You shifted against him, shuffling around as you moved closer into him in the water, you pressed your naked body against his. Face to face once again. Easily, your legs tangled together, and closing your eyes, you let his words and the comfort of his presence wash over you. Your heart swelled with emotion as you replied, your voice soft but filled with certainty.
“I love you too.”
In that quiet moment, surrounded by his warmth and care, you felt truly cherished. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of contentment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ And that’s how the rest of the night went, tender kisses and soft touches shared between you two as you enjoyed each other's company. Feeling so loved and at home as you melted in his embrace.
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heich0e · 7 months ago
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"can i call you later?"
the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.
"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"
rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.
you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.
rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.
"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"
your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.
"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.
you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.
"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.
you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.
"my train is coming," you say.
he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.
you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.
"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.
you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.
you call back to him just before you step into the station.
"rintarou—"
there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.
you smile.
"—call me later."
he calls you almost every night after that.
even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.
even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.
even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.
you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.
"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.
"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.
"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"
rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.
"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."
you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.
you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.
"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."
you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"
rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.
"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."
you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.
"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.
you fell in love through those phone calls.
you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.
you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.
he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.
"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.
you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.
in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.
"oop—hello?"
you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.
the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.
"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.
you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.
"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)
"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.
"i know," he replies.
it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.
you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.
"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"
you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.
he tilts his head.
"—wanna join me?"
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warnersister · 7 months ago
Text
How the Peaky boys would react to “you wearing a sundress” -> headcannon
(NSFW) but more implied then truly written, but still read at your own risk
Tommy🪖
🪖it was a hot day, and you were rummaging through your clothing chest to try find something suitable to wear to bear the heat outside.
🪖Tommy had headed out early, business to attend to with Alfie Solomons.
🪖he hadn’t meant to wake you, trying to sneak around the bedroom to get dressed and get out of the house: especially after a… long night
🪖but still, you stirred and whined “Tom?” You breathe with a rasped voice “s’alright, back to sleep darling” he instructed but you endured, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head and Thomas watched as the covers fell to reveal your bare torso and it took all his self control to stop salivating.
🪖you climbed out of bed and threw the slip dress over your head, heading towards your husband who was buttoning his shirt in the mirror
🪖you turned him towards you and swatted his hands away, and he allowed you to finish buttoning his shirt for him, finishing the top button and pulling the collar down to kiss him.
🪖”Solomons is coming by today” Thomas huffed and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes “long meeting?” You ask and he shakes his head “shouldn’t be” you nod “d’you want me to come by later? Bring you some lunch?” You ask and he connects his eyes with yours “y’know y’worry me when you stay in there all day” you continue and he offers a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth and tapping his chest, ushering him out of the door. “Go on, shoo.”
🪖he smirked and grabbed his cap on the way out, whistling as he went
🪖so there you were, already sweeting with mere silk on your body
🪖you saw a dress with the tags still on, yellow and billowing at the bottom: sundress
🪖you looked it over one before deciding it was the perfect choice for today’s endeavours.
🪖you’d nipped out to the market first, collecting some supplies to make him some soup or whatever you could conjure up.
🪖you even grabbed some sunflowers too; having bought him a vase for his office, thinking it needed some life brought into it, given the volume of lives that were lost in that room.
🪖later in the day you headed to Tommy’s office, assuming that his meeting must be done by now and to feed him.
🪖you’d headed to the Garrison, greeting Harry and having a few wandering eyes following you as you approached the Blinder’s designated room, thinking nothing of it as you turned the door knob.
🪖Tommy couldn’t be mad at your intrusion for the sheer sight of you. His pupils blew out of his head as he looked you over, he’d never seen this dress before. Yet his jaw gritted at the way Alfred fucking Solomons had the same reaction.
🪖”oh I’m so sorry gentleman” you said, pivoting to leave “no no, sweetheart. Alfie was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Tommy asked and Alfie creased his brows but with the eyes his business partner was giving him told him everything he needed to know. “Yeah yeah, just leaving Tom”
🪖Alfie stood, to leave and smiled at you “lovely to see you, poppet” Alfie said, you’d always gotten along with him; you hugged him as he welcomed it, and he grinned at you “you look gorgeous you, yeah? Lovely new dress. Fabulous it is” “fuck off Alfie” “yeah yeah I’m going, bye love”
🪖Tommy looked you over as the door clicked shut with tight lips. “I’m sorry Tom I didn’t think he’d still be here-” “have you had that on all day?” He cuts you off and you raise your brows “the dress?” “Mhm” “oh yeah, found it earlier. Never worn it.” You say, spinning to give him a giddy look at it.
🪖Tommy couldn’t help but smile “c’m ere.” He beckons you over and you approach him “I brought you some lunch-” you begin “nah, got all I need to eat right here” he says and grabs your hips, prompting you to discard your basket on his desk.
🪖he sits back in his seat; opening his legs to pull you to stand between them. He gently takes the fabric between his fingers, then drags his hands so slowly up to your torso, not looking at your face. You fidget anxiously, his hands dragging back down to the hem of the dress.
🪖”dangerous wearing this, love” he says, dipping his hands under the dress to rest on your upper thighs, finally looking at you. You smile. He realises how easily the fabric is lifted, pushing you back to sit on his desk “can’t do this to y’old Tom and expect to get away with it” he says, with a tut, unzipping his trousers and removing his suspenders as he pushes your underwear to the side.
🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie was sat reading the newspaper in his armchair, Cyril asleep beside him when you came into the room.
🧸”so, what do you think?” You asked and Alfie looked up but had to do a double take. A white sundress with frilled straps and tight torso. “Blimey poppet, what’s this then?” He asked, dropping his glasses to the end of his nose to get a better look at you.
🧸”a sundress Alf!” You say, “y’bought it last year, remember?” “Thought I’d remember buying something like this.” He says, standing to his feet, moving to take your hand in his own “give us a spin then darling” he says, turning you as the fabric billowed as you went only for your gorgeous beaming face to return to him.
🧸”now this is fucking fabulous ain’t it darlin’, fucking fabulous. Bloody love it. Suits you nicely” he mumbles as you smile “but y’can’t wear it” he says and your face drops “y’what?” You asks, brows furrowing. “Y’aint givin y’old man heart palpitations and expecting me to let y’out of the house, flower. Not like this” he says sternly, wagging an accusatory finger at you.
🧸”but we’re got to go to the market-” you protest “nah, we ain’t” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you yelp. He flips the rim of your skirt up so he gets a great view of your ass, smacking it lightly “Alfie!”
🧸”don’t think I won’t shag y’on these stairs, treacle, now let me get up the fucking stairs, yeah?”
🧸then later in the day when you’d finally manage to coax him off of you and out of the house to the market, there was a hand permanently on your waist. And then at some point you bent over to smell some flowers and Alfie couldn’t help but lean his hips into yours. You yelped “Alfie!” You hissed. “C‘mon love I can’t cope.” He grunts, impatiently prompting the rest of the shopping to go by faster, flipping the skirt of the dress up again when he finally got back to the car.
Arthur🍺
🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.
🍺can’t keep his fucking hands off of you.
🍺left early, didn’t he? Ended up waking you up; banging all the doors shut and all that as he clambered out of the house.
🍺you decided that was your wake up call regardless, knowing full well that if he’d have left in a state such as the one he was in last night then it wasn’t good business. Meaning it’d perk him up for you to visit him and calm down his anger during the day, even if it was only a chat to rectify his emotions.
🍺you’d gotten yourself dressed without a second thought, inly to do a double take and head right back into the house when you felt the sweltering temperatures outside the from door.
🍺you’d rummage through your clothing chest, struggling to find anything suitable for such an occasion, used to the drizzly cool downpour of the indefinite English winter.
🍺then you spotted it; the sundress
🍺Arthur had gone mad for it last year, and it was forgotten about at around Christmas time when it was way too cold for attire like that, but now was the perfect opportunity to wind him up again.
🍺and you were in a teasing mood after the way he’d slammed the front door shut and made a crack in the mahogany.
🍺so you’d slipped it on, it was a lovely shade of pink; baby pink to be exact. Arthur loved that colour on you, made him forget all his troubles and appreciate his woman for a while - especially when he couldn’t get his hands off you. So, giving yourself a once over you spritzed a bit of the expensive perfume Thomas had kindly gifted you the Christmas prior, the one you knew Arthur liked the smell of, and headed out the door.
🍺you decided to stop by the bakery on the way to his office, the bakery with the young cashier who had a large crush on you who Arthur absolutely despised, and you knew it’d get him even more rilled up knowing full well that you’d been in that dress, had leant over the counter while the young lad stumbled over his words and explained what was in every one of them, let you sample the one that the lad knew full well was your favourite, and gave you it on the house with a tip on the hat and a kiss on the hand.
🍺yeah this was turning out to be a pretty good day.
🍺so you waltzed through the building, little spring in your step as you greeted all the turning heads who watched you as you walked.
🍺you knocked on his door “fuck off” and you opened it “sorry Arth, thought you’d want some company” you say in the shyest voice you could manage to muster. His demeanour immediately changed when he heard your voice, his posture settled but when he looked at you his mouth ran dry.
🍺”brought you a bun” you say, taking it out of the bag you’d brought and knew full well he looked at the branding on the paper packaging. His jaw went slack. “Fuck me love, y’tryna kill me?” He asked, taking his cap off his head and shooting his head beneath it. “What do you mean, darling?” You asked, feigning innocence, heading to his desk as you placed the treat in front of him. “You know fucking damn well what. That bastard dress is back again” he says, grabbing your waist with calloused hands to bring you closer to him and he looked you over.
🍺”wearing the nice perfume too, ain’t ya love?” He asked meekly and you nodded “warm day and I couldn’t find anything else. Saw how quickly you’d left his morning so I thought I’d bring you something to eat” you say with a small, innocent smile as you stroked his cheek. He swallowed hard, eyes unwillingly shifting from you to the pastry on his desk.
🍺”y’ve been to that fucking bakery, ain’t ya?” He asked, gritting his teeth “well it’s your favourite-” “and that little bastard was serving wasn’t he?” He asked again, eyes narrowing “who? Daniel-” “yes fucking Daniel that little cock rocket who thinks he can get in your knickers that’s who” he seethed.
🍺then it dawned on him. “And he saw you in this fucking thing” he growled, bunching the pink material in his hands as he huffed “m’sorry Arth. Didn’t think” you reply. Liar. “Nah I think you knew. Knew to tease y’old Arthur didn’t you?” He asked, thumb drawing small circles into your waist. You replied with a small smile “I knew it! Y’little minx!” He chuckled, shaking his head.
🍺”well!“You exclaim, taking his hands and prying them from your waist as his face dropped “I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your pasty. Love you.” You say, turning to make your leave and he almost growled.
🍺”where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, standing up after you as you walked back through his door, failing to suppress your smirk. He pretty much sprinted after you, grabbing you roughly and throwing you over his shoulder to turn right back around and into his office. “Got all I want to eat right fucking ‘ere. You ain’t leaving this office in this bastard dress” he promises, slamming the office door behind the two of you.
John🥃
🥃bold of you to think you’re even leaving the house with it on.
🥃he’s not like his brothers, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye unless Tommy was literally at the door screaming for him, and even then he was quick to reassure you before he sprinted out the house.
🥃no he liked to wake up with you, especially now there were too many kids to count running around the house.
🥃he liked to wake you up with little kisses, grab you at the waist and pull you back into bed if you tried to leave, brush his teeth beside you in the bathroom, help get the kids ready, pick your outfit, and let you tie his tie which usually took a good half hour between all the songs he’d sneak in.
🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.
🥃a bit of normality.
🥃today was no different, he’d woke you up with little kisses, rolling you to sit on top of him, legs either side of his hips as he repetitively kissed you as you giggled and tried to rise for a breath.
🥃”mammy I’m hungry!” A voice came from the doorway and you saw your agitated son pawing at his pyjamas as he looked at you desperately. “Fucking kid interrupting. About to fu-” John mumbled quietly before you were placing a hand over his mouth with wide, warning eyes. He smirked at you. “Alright mate, I’ll come, leave your poor mammy alone” John answered, finally managing to pry your hand away. “Thanks daddy” he says, giddily, as John reluctantly placed you back in bed and rolled out, chucking a shirt on and turning back to you. “Don’t move” he says, wagging a jokingly warning finger at you and you laugh “yes sir” you salute and he smirk.
🥃”right c’mon mate.” John says, grabbing your son and slinging him onto a piggy back to go grab him something to munch on.
🥃you practically jumped out of bed to go grab the new sundress that you bought last week, you hadn’t shown John yet and decided that today was the day you were going to wear it, especially now you had the quick couple of minutes of peace alone.
🥃”right, little’uns eating his breakf- fuck me” you spun around to look at your husband and smiled “what d’y think?” You ask, “g’i us a twirl” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You did as he said and pivoted around, showing how the dress spun with you.
🥃”it’s a sundress” you say “I can see that flower” he replies, walking up to you to have a good feel of the fabric, gliding his hands from your upper back to your waist as he pulls you into him “y’can’t wear tha’.” He says simply and you giggle “why’s tha Johnny?” You ask and he raises his brows “that little name tells me you know goddamn why gorgeous.” He says “y’cannea wear it cause I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of ya.” He says, quickly turning to slam the door shut before picking you up and dropping you on the bed, climbing on top of you and leaning in to kiss you hungrily.
🥃you move to take the dress of and he shakes his head “now, now whole point of this dress is that it’s easy access now, ain’t it?” He hums “leave it on I’ll work around don’t you worry ‘bout me.” He says quickly with his tongue protruding to lick his dry lips as he looks you over.
🥃he dips his head under the hem of the dress and eats you like a man starved. “Mammy! Daddy we’re ‘ungry!” You hear from beyond the door and John stops his movement to come back up for air and clamp a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds coming out of it. John huffs, frustrated but clears his throat. “Harriet darlin’ can you reach the milk?” He asks after a minute “I can da’.” Her little voice replies “Toby can you reach the cereal?” “Uh-huh” the other retorts. “Great and Charlie? Bowls and spoons?” “Yeah I know where they are daddy!” The little one says “perfect. Harriet want you to get the milk, the big ‘un I’m not having you using up the fancy shit your mam bought from Camden. Y’here me?” He asks “yeah dad” “Toby, grab the cereal and Charlie get the bowls and lot.” He instructs “okay!” The collective voices come out. “Hannah need you to make sure it’s all gone to plan, alright hon?” He asks “sure thing” then you hear the patter of feel heading down the stairs
🥃”and I swear to god if any of you little shits make a mess y’ll all be up for the fuckin’ high jump!” He announces loudly, before quieting down and turning back to you “where were we?”
🥃and then when you’d finally managed to pry him off of you, he begrudgingly let you wear it “don’t forget we’re going to Alice’s garden party.” You say “what?” He asks, noticing how you’ve dressed all the kids appropriately “y’ain’t going looking like that flower” he says “I sure am. Come in you lot! In the car!” You say, ushering him out the door
🥃he managed to sneak you away one or two times at the party.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John
🥊cannot keep his hands off of you
🥊”’m takin’ y’ to Bonnie Gold’s fight.” Your brother said walking into the room “wear summot nice, that dress I bought you” “why?” “Just get dressed” you nodded at Tommy, not opposed to visiting Bonnie Gold any day.
🥊”is his sister coming?” Bonnie asked his dad hopefully and the man smirked “why?” “J’st wonderin’.” “Yeah well keep y’eyes on the prize” Aberama told him “she is the fuckin’ prize” “try keep y’hands off of ‘er until the fights over, yeah?” He asked and him and Bonnie just shared a knowing smirk.
🥊you put on the sundress Tommy had bought you the other week, deciding it was a nice enough day to have a breeze against your skin, plus you had a pair of lovely shoes to match.
🥊so you rocked up downstairs, dress on and ready to go and Tommy just gave you a once over “poor lads gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack” John said, laughing “shut up John” you reply, as he opened the door to the car for you, offering his hand to help you up. “You look nice” Arthur commented with a raised brow “damn fucker better win this fight”
🥊”Bonnie” Thomas nodded as he entered the building, followed by his brothers, you at the back with John who’d strung an arm over your shoulder. “Mr Shelby” he nodded at him, but was clearly distracted. “Don’t you worry, Bonnie. She’s right ‘ere.” Tommy says, moving out the way for John and you to come into his view. “Hiya, Bon.” You smile “hiya flower” he manages to muster.
🥊yet, his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer sight of you. Your gorgeous face, hair done up nicely, and a fucking milkmaid dress. Some lovely sundress that other men didn’t deserve to see. Bonnie’s jaw clenched.
🥊”right, we’ll leave the two of you for a minute. Aberama, let’s chat” Thomas said, leading the others away “if he tries anything come and fuckin’ find me.” John said, looking Bonnie over once with narrowed eyes before strutting off after the others.
🥊Bonnie smirked looking at you “y’look lovely” he said quietly, approaching you “not too bad y’self Bon” you giggle as his hands wrap around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “This fuckin’ dress. Y’do it on purpose?” He asks and you crease your brows “do what?” You hum and he sighs “I guess you’re not beautiful on purpose are you darlin’?” He grins, grabbing your hand to drag you into his changing room and lock the door behind you.
🥊he picks you up and you squeal with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you against the door. He slips his hands under the hem of the skirt and holds your thighs gently.
🥊”this fucking dress” he says, chuffed that he managed to slip his hands all the way up to settle on your waist and you just smiled at him. You could feel him toying with the waistband of your panties and you laugh “Bon we’ve only got ten minutes!” You giggle and he sighs “guess we’ve got to be quick then, ay sugar?” He asks, undoing his trousers and just merely pushing your panties aside.
🥊you lean your head into the curve of his neck, muffling the sounds erupting from your mouth and muffling them with his bear skin and he slid in and out of you. “God ‘m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He groaned “y’know what this makes me think of?” He asks and you shake your head in question against him. “Makes me think of a mammy. What a mammy should wear when she’s pregnant ‘nd can’t get into nothin’ else.” He mumbles. “This wha’ya were tryna do t’me?” He asks “tryna get me to make y’a mammy? Cause it’s working darlin’. So well.” You whine at his remark.
🥊and when you both finish you try to pull up from his shoulder but he holds you firmly in place “Nuh uh. You dress like a mammy y’become one” he says and you can’t help but smile at his statement. Eventually, he unwraps you from his waist and lets you down onto shaky legs. A knock comes at the door “five minutes, son. Get your hands wrapped” you hear Aberama say to him followed by leaving footsteps. You smile up at him “c’mon I’ll wrap your hands”
🥊you pull him to where the wrap is, sitting him down on the bench and standing between his legs as you work on protecting his hands.
🥊He was being extremely difficult
🥊trying to wrap a man’s hands when all he wants to do is have them under your dress is an extremely difficult task as he kept groping at your skin rather than letting you work. “D’ya want your hands wrapping or not?” You ask with a huff and he smirks “would rather be doing somethin’ else.” He shrugs, but lets you finish. And when you do he pulls you into a tight hug, leaning against the fabric where your breasts were constricted.
🥊”Bonnie, c’mon lad it’s time” you heard your brother say from beyond the door, knocking on it thrice (sausage roll video lol)
🥊Bonnie groaned from under your dress (you didn’t know when he’d managed to snake his way back under there) but you grabbed his hand and yanked him from his seated position to standing; pulling him towards the door and unlocking it to take him to the ring.
🥊Bonnie pulled the hand that was dragging him, sending you flying into his chest with a force that nearly winded you as he gave you one last kiss. “Bonnie! Go!” You giggled, pushing him away and towards the ring, taking a stand beside your brothers as the match began.
🥊The rounds went by painfully slow for Bonnie; regardless of the fact that he was winning - but in reality it was only a good few minutes of pure fighting.
🥊then when the match was finished, he waltzed over to the Shelby family like he owned the place and offered a blood-filled grin as it dripped down his chin.
🥊”well done Bonnie lad.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. “Cheers Tommy.” He replied, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Didn’t y’get some money f’this match?” John asked, lighting his own. “Nah he’s got his own trophy right over there” Tommy replied, nodding at you as they all turned to see you chatting with Bonnie’s father.
🥊”just do us a favour” Thomas told him and Bonnie immediately nodded “marry her.” “Don’t have to tell me twice, mr Shelby.” Bonnie told him with a chuckle, heading to grab you to resume your activities.
Isaiah♟️
♟️haha.
♟️again, bold of you to assume that you’re getting fucking anywhere with that thing on.
♟️feel like it’d be a black sundress, one with frills on the sleeves.
♟️you’d gone for a walk with Finn, Tommy having told you both to fuck off for a while while they dealt with some deeper business; so a stroll around seemed to be the choice at hand.
♟️eventually though, Finn had gotten distracted by a sign you’d read that said ‘pretty women here shilling for a good time’ and left you to fend for yourself, opting not to follow your twin into the whore house, yet you weren’t in your own company for long, feeling a cap placed on your head and an arm around your shoulders.
♟️“Hey pretty, what’re you doing all alone?” Isaiah asked, as he feel into step with you, but came to a sudden halt almost lurching you back. “And who let you wear that?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you over. “Why what’s wrong with it?” You asked “nothin’ nothin’. J’st don’t understand why it’s not on my bedroom floor” you smacked his chest and giggled “Isaiah!”
♟️”y’shouldnt have been let out wearing this, love” he said, backing you against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. “Well I was with Finn” you reason “hmm? And where is Finn now?” He asks, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.
♟️”in some whore house” you mumble in reply. He scoffs “some brother”. Then he starts again “why don’t we turn my house into a whore house and get that dress off you and into my room?” He suggests and you roll your eyes “such a way with words”
♟️”y’look fuckin’ insatiable” he says, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot on the crevasse of your neck. “Dunno how I manage to keep my hand off you most of the time, doll” he shrugs “and in this? Fuck y’not gonna be walking anytime soon”
♟️you laugh at him “you wish peaky junior, now I was enjoying a lovely walk before you came along.” You hum, pushing him back by the chest and he scoffs “I’m a Shelby I can fend for myself” you shrug “not while I make you a Jesus.” He retorts, smirking like he knew he’d won. “Whatever, Isaiah” you say, calmly walking away
♟️he laughs loudly, running after you “c’mon Mrs Jesus we’ve business to attend to!” He announces, swiftly placing a hand onto your chest and pressing you back against the wall, lifting you up and placing hungry hands under the hem of your dress “Isaiah!” You scold, “not here!” He rolls his eyes “fine”
♟️and he places and arm under your knees and one to support your head as he carries you bridal-style back to his house. You clutch at his suit jacket and squeal at his action, holding on for dear life until you got to his home.
♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom
♟️defo had his way with you against the door once it’d been firmly slammed shut and locked
♟️and on the sofa
♟️and the kitchen table
♟️and then bedroom
♟️(you never took the dress off)
♟️and eventually when you’d decided Tommy was probably done with his important business you managed to coax a begrudging Isaiah to the Garrison with you, who’d initially planned to keep you up all night with him but instead you were heading to a pub instead of his bed; which you’d end up in later anyways
♟️”oh she’s alive!” Arthur said sarcastically as you join them, noticing your presence and subsequently you noticed Finn’s. “How long did you last? Two minutes?” You asked and he scoffed “fuck off” “and of course I’m alive, I’m fine. It was Finn who left me alone!” You say, blame bombing your twin who looked at you with evil eyes.
♟️then Isaiah popped his head round “plus I wasn’t alone I was with Isaiah” you say matter-of-factly and Finn grits his jaw “what’ve I said about staying away from my fucking sister you fucking scrubber” Finn growls, landing a pent-up punch to Isaiah’s jaw who stumbled back slightly. “Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout fucking her did ya?” He retorted and then he was running for the hills with three brothers sprinting after him.
♟️”men.” Polly said with a roll of her eyes
Michael🎱
🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there
🎱loved how it looks on you
🎱but hates the fact that other men see you wearing it.
🎱he makes heart eyes when he sees you in it, believing it to be the typical dress of a wife and mother; so it pretty much feeds into his delusions.
🎱the only time it saw the light of day in public would’ve definitely been when he’d been courting you. When he’d been invited to some garden party of a rich aristocracy down southwards.
🎱what Tommy failed to mention was that the Capitalist had a daughter a few months younger than Michael, of whom was extremely well spoken, and ridiculously pretty.
🎱he’d obviously weaselled his way over to you and the rest was history.
🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.
🎱again, you were heading to a garden party: Shelby arranged this time around, to show your initial family that the marriage between yourself and Michael was going well and therefore Tommy’s expansion to a more wealthier estate was worth the investment.
🎱”I’ll meet you there darling, business to take care of.” Michael had told you that morning while adjusting his collar, allowing you to help him straighten the tie you had wrapped around his neck. “Okay” you hummed, he always loved how you’d never pried.
🎱in reality he was off to see a man about a dog, in other terms; kill a man. Kill a man who’d been eyeing you up like a fucking slice of meat the evening prior. Eyeing you like he wanted to eat you like a man starved, as if your husband didn’t have a firm arm wrapped around your waist and oversized number of carats around your finger.
🎱even had the nerve to try talk to you, had groped at your ass and Michael covered your eyes with one hand while he clocked the bloke around the jaw with the other.
🎱never wanted a woman to see him fight, especially his woman.
🎱so he went about killing the man the next day; well he’s probably dead by now. He took his cap calmly to the man, beneath that bridge by the canal, castrated then blinded the man and left him struggling on the ground, having a couple of lesser known Peaky men surveying the area for the rest of the day to make sure no aid was to come to him, and when his struggling stopped they were to sort his body out.
🎱you made your way to the garden party independently, having worn a darling sundress; white and pristine and freshly pressed, accompanied by a sun hat and some subtle shoes; conservative enough for Michael not to complain that you looked like a whore, but skin-showing enough not to overheat in this sweltering weather.
🎱you were there before Michael, embraced by John and given a kiss on the temple by an already tipsy Arthur who was in that sort of mood where a gent gets rather happy when squidgy, it was a fine line with Arthur.. happy to angered
🎱but you entertained him, saying your hellos and greeting the rest of the family you’d married into, patiently waiting for Michael’s attendance.
🎱he was there soon thereafter.
🎱and he was fucking seething.
🎱he took one look at you as his mouth ran dry, grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the garden getting countless opposing arguments from the likes of Ada and John questioning what he was doing
🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.
🎱how dare you wear that dress?
🎱practically threw you into the car, you’d never seen him this upset, let alone have it take it out on you; his loving, doting housewife of whom he trophied for every mistake he made, initially he thought you were his punishment from god.. sent an angel for a devil to take care of. But he’d gotten the hang of switching into a loving husband the minute he returned home
🎱but tonight was different
🎱”Michael, darlin-” “how dare you?” He seethed and you silenced yourself “pardon?” “How many fucking times have I told you you’re not wearing this fucking dress in public, hmm? And you wear it around my fucking horny cousin?” He growls and you don’t know how to reply “he looks at you like you’re a fucking piece of meet, sweets.” He tells you, finally looking at you
🎱”undressing you with his eyes. Watched him myself.” “John has a wife-” “John hires prostitutes. Y’think he’d be a better husband?” He asks, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel harder “no-” “no. Cause I’ve never hired a fuckin’ prostitute since we’ve been together, and I work hard for you, y’know. Got no where to take my anger out cause I love you so much.” He says and despite the harshness of his words your heart swells.
🎱”killed a man for you and I show up to you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore?” Your mouth opened agape and he chuckled darkly “think I didn’t kill that bloke? Think I’d leave him safe? Nah, not with my missus I wouldn’t” he confirms, placing a hand on your leg as he speeds back home.
🎱he stops the car and doesn’t move for a minute.
🎱”listen to me very carefully, flower. I’m going to change my bloody shirt, and you’re gonna go upstairs, lay on the bed and wait for me. Yeah?” He asks “yeah o’course Michael.” You say as you get out the car
🎱”and leave that fuckin’ dress on!” You hear called behind you.
Finn🎞️
🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.
🎞️doesn’t know what does it for him about that dress, but it does something.
🎞️it was a hot day, and the family was in some beer garden, Arthur already off his head drunk and the brothers just enjoying one another’s company after successfully ridding the threat of a rival family, the head now dead and the rest cowering to surrender.
🎞️Tommy told Finn to bring his lady friend, the one who worked at the bookshop along, decided it was time to meet the family, and so he did.
🎞️waltzed into your little hole in the wall, grinning as you peered your head around to see the customer who’d caused the door’s bell to chime, and you broke out into a mighty smile just as he did, him opening his arms for you to rush over and into a bone crushing hug.
🎞️even shared a sweet kiss as he said a gentle “hello pretty”
🎞️he noticed the dress you were wearing was new, initially not noticing it as he was too caught up in admiring you. “What’s this? Is it new?” He asked, taking your hand to spin you around. “It is” you grin, allowing the white flowing material to spin as he made you “it’s lovely” he says, noticing something about it but he didn’t know quite what.
🎞️”why are you here?” You hum with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you leant your chin against his dress “aren’t I allowed to say hello to my favourite girl?” He asks with a smirk “yes but I can tell there’s something. A look in your eyes.” You say and he sighs, defeated “party at the Garrison” he says “when?” You ask “right now” he says and you laugh “Finn I can’t just shut shop at 12 oclock on Thursday!” You say, as he reaches into his pocket, throwing ten whole pounds onto the counter “Finn! Where did you get that much money?” You gasp “don’t worry bout it. Enough for you to close?” He asks and you scoff “I can’t accept ten whole pounds, Finn” you tell him “sure you can cause I’m not having it back” he shrugs, pulling your hand to coax you out the door “okay fine!” You surrender as you relent, allowing Finn to pull you out the door and in turn, you lock your door behind you.
🎞️then when you showed to the party, you were greeted by tipsy cheers and hellos as Finn introduced you to his family, Polly and Ada immediately dragging you away to have a separate conversation as they question you about everything to which you giddily go along with.
🎞️John came to stand with Finn, where he was stood still; drink in hand as he watched you interact with his family. “What’s up, Finn?” He asked, nudging him with his elbow and Finn finally broke out of his trace to smile at his brother. “Nothin’.” He shrugged. “Can’t be about your missus, y’head over heels for her.” John said, and Finn immediately raised his brows in panic “no! no! Nothin’ like tha.” Finn said, shaking his head. “Then what is it?” John asked, looking at you, trying to figure his younger sibling out.
🎞️”dunno. It’s summot about that dress” Finn said, eyes raking over you as he tried to figure out what it was and his brother chuckles “easy access, mate.” John said and Finn creased his brows “y’what?” “Sundresses mate, fuckin’ kill me. Easy access innit? Don’t have to even take the dress off” John told him matter-of-factly, necking the rest of his beer in one. Finn’s eyes darkened and John couldn’t hold in his laugh at the realisation that Finn had settled that that was what it was.
🎞️John claps him on the back “if y’wanna sneak off I’ll cover” he said, but by the end of the sentence Finn had already started after you “cheers, mate!” He said to John “sorry, stealing her” he said to Polly and Ada against their judgement, dragging you away from the conversation and into the Peaky office inside the Garrison.
🎞️you giggle at his actions as he locked the dork “what y’doin sill?” You ask “party’s outside!” You say, as he picks you up and holds you against the door, dropping his hands for them to head under the hem of your skirt “right, ‘nd I’ve just figured out that this dress is driving me fuckin’ crazy” he says “you’re fuckin’ insatiable” he says “d’you even know what that means?” You ask and he shrugs “find me a dictionary later or summot.” He says
🎞️”what’s up with the dress” you ask, as he undoes his trousers “easy access innit?”
Aberama🌞
🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke
🌞by that I mean he’s had many a trips around the sun, and in that time good women are few and far between in his opinion
🌞so regardless of you being substantially his younger, he was positive that you were the woman for him and therefore he had to have you.
🌞recently you’d moved into his vardo with him, having left the urban life behind.
🌞he’d woken up one morning to the sun blaring at him through the unclad opening of the vardo, stretching his arms above his head in a mighty yawn, almost certain it was almost midday by this point; especially after the long trek they’d had to get to this sight the night prior.
🌞he reached his arm over, but the spot in the bed was cold and empty, a lone spot where you should’ve been laid. He creased his brows, shooting up in bed to a sitting potion, realising that you were no longer in the vardo at all.
🌞he groaned. Damn you and your early rising tendencies.
🌞he rubbed his eyes and pulled on a pair of undershorts, smirking at the remembrance of the night prior once you’d arrived. He popped his head out of the doorway, looking left and right but curiously not being able to find any trace of you.
🌞he climbed down the steps and placed his hands on his hips, walking around the side of the wooden structure towards the lake that trickled slowly downstream. And that’s where he found you:
🌞his gorgeous bride.
🌞he’d always told you that he never expected you to conform to the traditional gypsy wife role, never needed you to bear him any more children or do the cooking or cleaning. Hell, you could lay around all day doing nothing and he’d look at you with the same adoration he always does. He didn’t even expect you to want to live in a vardo, yet you’d shown up with a bag and a smile when offered.
🌞 yet you refused, you demanded to help. Demanded to conform. You would cook the rabbit he’d kill (given you’d been a bit sick at the initial sight of it). And you’d kill his clothes, paying no mind to any blood shed on it.
🌞you were knelt against the river bank, ringing some clothes out you just washed then placing them into a small wicker basket, in a dress he didn’t quite recognise.
🌞”what y’doin up, sweetheart? Thought I told y’to relax today” he started, beginning towards you. Your head spun and those wide, innocent doe eyes gleamed back at him “had a big journey last night. No good f’little girls to be working the day after” he said, matter of factly with a stern look.
🌞”just wanted to get these clothes washed” you mumble, placing the final garment in the basket. “And what’s this you’ve got on, hmm?” He asked, as you look at your clothes “oh it’s a dress” “Mm I can see that, darlin. Just never seen it before” he tells you and you stand to give him a little spin. “My sister bought it for my birthday” you said and he grunts, gently grabbing your hips to pull you into him and sway you back and forth along with the breeze, dancing to nature’s music.
🌞”well y’know what these dresses are?” He hums and you shake your head, placing both hands on his chest. “These dresses are the kind that mammys wear. The kind you’d wear when they’re all pregnant and swelled up with little babes.” He says, accusingly. “Kind that little wives wear that are asking for a hiding” he warns
🌞”didn’t mean nothing by it, abe. Just thought it was nice” you admit and he smiles “I know you did, princess. Just an innocent little flower y’are.” He shakes his head.
🌞”but y’ve seen the other mammys around the camp haven’t you? Seen how they’ve dressed. Think you know what you were doin’ to your old man” he teases and you shake your head “m too old to be a da’ y’know. Way too bleeding old. Punishing me ain’t ya? Just asking for a little’un” he tuts and you giggle as he picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bed where he’d began
🌞”Aberama! The clothes!-” “Can fuckin’ wait” he grunts “got a little’un to put in ya first” he says, dropping you onto the bed and lazily flipping up your skirt to do what he did best.
🌞make your skin fucking crawl.
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c4ndl3-w1ck · 2 years ago
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The meltdown stops being about forgetting my charger and starts being about how I shouldnt be crying or having meltdowns when I'm almost an adult
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paarksunghoon · 2 months ago
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hai deep honey anon is back!!! today i have hard thoughts 4 u 😇😇 been thinking a lot abt sunghoon n fingering tee bee eich.. like his long, slender fingers fucking into u n hitting that spot deep inside, and when he curls them up u quite literally see stars not to mention all the while he's whispering dirty shit in ur ear like "yeah? my dirty girl likes that? like it when my thumb rubs your swollen little clit while i fuck you with my fingers? they're so much longer and thicker than yours, aren't they baby?" hngnnfjfkdkejsks need him so bad ok bye im done for now but i Will be back 🤓☝🏻 toodles!
love how different this request is from the deep honey spin off 😭
***
Sunghoon wonders if any of your friends know just how filthy you are.
You present yourself as this confident, independent person whose heart is bigger than anything known to man. Your friends love you almost as much as Sunghoon does because you’re somebody they can always count on.
Behind closed doors, though, you relinquish your control.
Your boyfriend loves how malleable you are when nobody else is looking. That strong person he knows you to be is tucked away when he has his hands on you and your resolve crumbles with him. He loves the way you trust him to care for you like this. It’s almost like you love him, or something.
Still, Sunghoon wonders if your friends know just how often you spread your legs for him and how wet you always are. He could touch your thigh and you’re gushing like nobody’s business. Even so, Sunghoon wonders if your friends know how much you love getting stuffed with his fingers.
He’s got you in front of his chest while he props himself up by the bed frame. Sunghoon spreads his legs wide and perches your ankles on the outside to open your body up to him. He’s got his left arm holding your chest until your tits are squished against him while the fingers of his free hand push themselves in and out of you.
Your body coils every time he breathes in your ear. Sunghoon’s lips graze the soft skin and he kisses you every now and then as if to tease you, loving the way your body reacts to him. You try to buck your hips and thrust into the air but his strong hold keeps you trapped between him.
“You always get so wet,” Sunghoon moans in your ear. Your spongy walls feel like heaven to him. “You’re such a slut, baby. Can’t believe you’re letting me touch you like this. What happened to you, hm?”
You clench around his fingers and drop your mouth open as you moan. Sunghoon chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth, pushing his digits deeper inside of you. “You love my fingers, don’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” you stutter.
“My girl is so dirty…Yeahh. You like it when I rub your little clit too?” His thumb makes direct contact to your aroused bud and he laughs wickedly against your body when you arch your chest towards the ceiling. “Pussy’s so hot and cute. Do you think Heeseung knows how wet your pussy gets?”
“Sunghoon.”
“Do you think Jake knows how easy you are? I come home and you open your legs for me. I don’t even have to ask. Does Jay know how often you touch yourself? Do our friends know how many times I’ve made you cum since we started dating?”
Sunghoon’s finger curls up inside you and he encourages just low lengthy your moans are. He kisses the side of your neck and nips at your skin with his sharp teeth, adding to the pleasurable feeling that blooms in your chest.
“Make me cum,” you beg.
“Don’t worry baby. I’ll take care of you.”
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dorkszn · 9 months ago
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“quit squirmin’, will ya?” mickey rasps in your ear. you swallow harshly as you grip the fabric of his sweatpants.
“you guys are attacking me,” you scoff, mickey’s lips press against the skin of your throat again. bite marks and bright red bruises litter across your skin.
“god, you’re so dramatic.” your red-head boyfriend sighs from the end of your bed. ian kisses against your abdomen, softly sucking more hickies into your skin while his fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts.
“am not.” you glare down at him.
“are too.” mickey grumbles, softly digging his fingertips into your skin. you slightly squirm at the touch, a sigh leaving you.
“i am no—“
“god, you talk so much.” ian interrupts, bringing his lips to yours. he pulls your words from your throat and into to him, leaving you with nothing but gentle breathes and whines.
meanwhile, mickey’s hands slide into your pants, playing with the fabric of your boxers that were growing tighter by the minute.
suddenly, the sound of your phone ringing broke you and ian apart. “shit— sorry, one second.”
they don’t let you leave their trap so you just reach out and grab the phone. you flip the top part up and bring it to your ear. “hello?” you greet. your mother’s voice responds to you through the speaker.
“yeah, you know I’ll be there.” you reply as she talks. you feel mickey begin nipping at your neck and ian takes the waistband of your pajamas pants into his grip. a choked noise leaves you.
“sorry, I’m just… a little busy right now.” you speak out, your free hand reaching up to hold mickey’s hair to carefully push him off of you. but he doesn’t budge.
“yeah, ok, see you then, yeah, love you too, bye.” you say, quickly hanging up the phone.
“who was that?” the ginger questions, kissing your jawline.
“my mom, you assholes.” you scoff. ian pulls down your pants to completely reveal your underwear and growing erection.
“aww,” mickey hums and you can see his smug grin out the corner of your eye.
“shut the fuck up, milkovich,” ian snickers from his spot. “you too, gallagher.” you look over to him.
a smirk covers ian’s face. “why don’t you makes us, fisher?”
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wcnderlnds · 3 months ago
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impatient | peter maximoff (smut)
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✧ a little extra follow on to this fic but can be read separately. ✧
・❥・warnings: 18+ nsfw. it's just pure smut. explicit language, female reader. ・❥・ authors note: uh. this is the first time ive ever posted smut or fully wrote a whole fic of it so... IM NERVOUS BYE.
The movie had been completely forgotten about now. All Peter could think about was the way your lips felt on his, the way your tongue was in his mouth tangling with his. When you shifted in his lap, it was over for him. That was all he could handle. He pulled his lips from yours, breath heavy as he held you in place on his lap.
“What about the movie?” He said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.
“Who cares?” You mumbled, hands sliding down his shoulders and along his chest. Peter took a sharp breath in trying to focus but it was very hard — literally and figuratively — when you were sitting on his lap looking flushed from your make out session; your cheeks all red, lips swollen. It was probably one of his favourite looks on you.
“I thought you did, considering you bugged me for days on end to sit and watch this with you.”
”Well, I want to do something else now,” you slowly rolled your hips against his, eliciting a growl from his lips. His fingers dug into your hips as he helped you move against him, guiding your movements. Slow and tortuous — you knew how much going slow tortured him and that’s exactly what you wanted to do. Get him so worked up that he snaps and gives you exactly what you want.
The friction of your hips rubbing against his him was almost too much for him. His head was thrown back on the couch as he guided your movements. It was then you took the opportunity to press your lips to his neck - lightly at first then gently nipping, leaving a nice red mark there, claiming him as yours. Watching him explain that hickey to everyone tomorrow was going to be your amusement for the day. He was at his wits end, he couldn’t take it anymore as he pulled you up from his neck, crashing his lips against yours hungrily. His hands wasted no time in grabbing the edge of your shirt, tugging it off over your head and throwing it across the room. He couldn’t care less about anything other than getting you naked now. His touch was desperate and needy as his hands roamed up your sides, around your back and to the clasp of your bra. In an instant, he had it undone, throwing it behind him. You couldn’t help but giggle against his lips at his eagerness. Your skin felt like it was on fire at his touch, the desire burning up inside you. 
His lips trailed down your neck with wet, open mouth kisses as his hands palmed your breasts. He lightly squeezed causing you to moan against his mouth which in turn made him smirk. As revenge, you rolled your hips against his harder, the outline of his cock prominent against his sweatpants. “Can’t wait anymore,” he breathed. You were almost certain he was using his powers when he pulled off your shorts in a blur, his own sweatpants gone and thrown to the side.
Now free from the confines of his sweats, you could see how hard he really was. As your hand reached out to palm him, he grabbed your wrist with a shake of his head. “Nuh-uh. I’m not fucking around right now. If I’m not inside you within the next second, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna spontaneously combust and that’d all be on you, babe. Imagine cleaning up that mess.”
“So dramatic,” you rolled your eyes at him but instantly shut up the second his hand slipped inside your panties. His fingers expertly began to rub circles against your clit, adding pressure that caused you to squirm in his lap fighting back a whimper.
“Not so sassy now, huh?” He smirked. His fingers moved faster against you, teasing between your folds with ease.
“Thought you didn’t want to fuck around?” 
“Now who's impatient.”
He pulled his fingers from your panties making sure to make a show of licking his fingers of your arousal. The sight alone was nearly enough to make you cum. He pulled off your panties quickly, discarding them with the rest of your clothes that were scattered around the room now. Peter shuffled you off his lap for a moment as he lifted his hips to pull his boxers off. His cock sprang free against his stomach, hard and aching. Biting your lower lip, you settled yourself back on his lap.
Reaching between your bodies, you grabbed his length and positioned yourself above him. Slowly, too slowly for Peter, you sank down onto him. The groan that fell from his lips sounded like heaven, a gasp of your own echoing through the room as he filled you up. “Fuuuuuck,” he grabbed your hips tightly.
He gave you no time at all to adjust to him before he was thrusting his hips up into you. Hard. He slipped in and out of you easily - it was a marvel to him how wet he could get you without even really trying. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he kept pounding up into you. The moans passing your lips were music to his ears as he hit all the right spots. Finally, you managed to get him to still when you stuck your tongue in his mouth, stopping him in his tracks allowing you to start moving your own hips. His moved mouth hungrily against yours as you fucked yourself on his cock, Peter looking between your bodies as he watched himself disappear in and out of you. ‘What a damn beautiful sight’, he thought.
“F-Fuck, so good, baby. So good, keep going,” he praised as his hands slid up your back. He pulled himself up so his chest pressed against yours, the skin on skin contact only driving him closer and closer to the edge. One hand tangled in your hair, pulling your mouth back down to his. The only noises heard throughout the room were the slapping of skin and your moans that weren’t swallowed by Peter’s mouth. As you rode him, you felt that familiar coil start to build inside. Peter picked up on it, feeling you clench around him and suddenly you were on your back on the couch, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. “Shit… fuck, need to come, baby. Let go. Let go for me. Not gonna stop until you do.”
As much as he wanted to let go, he needed you to finish first. Peter was anything but selfish. 
His babbling in your ear along with the feeling of him deep inside you was enough to send you over the edge. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it as your body arched into his. “Peter!” You cried out, body shaking as your orgasm hit you with such force you were sure you saw stars.
That was all it took to send Peter over the edge. “Fuck,” he hissed, pulling out (he really had no excuse to have a bad pull out game) and stroking his length until he painted your stomach with his release. In an exhausted heap, he threw himself down beside you. His hand lay on his chest as he caught his breath back.
“We might have to watch that freaky little doll again if this is how it ends up.”
“Are you saying Chucky turns you on?”
Peter had zoomed off to get a damp cloth to clean you up, reappearing in front of you in a blur of silver and blue to catch what you said. “What? No! Don’t twist my words, weirdo.”
“Wait until you find out there's like five of these movies. Can’t imagine how horny that’ll make you,” you teased. Sitting up, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips in thanks. 
“Hate you.” It was a pathetic mumble against your lips.
“Not what you said five minutes ago.”
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kisses4kaia · 6 months ago
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patrick likes his girls mean!! he loves the stuck up, entitled, princesses who demand their every need be catered to. so when he meets you, all designer rackets and chanel sponsorships, he’s gotta bite.
you’d heard of patrick, of course. whom of your peers hadn’t? the effervescent tennis prodigy with a blinding career practically inscribed in his fates.
you couldn’t lie, learning about his reputation as not only a tennis god, but as a sex one, too… you had to bite.
hell if you were going to make the first move, though. that was quite literally never happening, and so you bided your time.
luckily for you, patrick was rather impatient—much differently to yourself—and would never miss the opportunity to make his way towards you at one of your dad’s events at your exorbitant, cherrywood-littered, home.
“that’s your third glass of champagne.” his voice startled from behind you. you swiveled on your heels to face the owner of such a bold tenor. “excuse me?”
patrick smiled to himself, nodding towards your glass. “tough night?” he’s suave, a large, single, step and he’s right next to you.
about to spit at him the meanest offended verbiage you could offer, your eyes found themselves catching onto his broad shoulders, and then practically raving all over his figure. his forearms, worked and muscled, were cut off from your view at the wrists, hands shoved deep into his pockets. there was a shock of dark, gelled, curls on his head, pairing dangerously fine with the honest and abyssal ultramarine of his eyes.
“you gonna keep checking me out or are you gonna answer my question?” he wore a stupid, smug smirk that had you scoffing. “sorry, do i know you?” you wished you could have looked down at him when saying this, but even with your heavy platform versace heels, you still had to crane your head to meet his eyes.
and of course, your question was redundant, but from the sounds of him thus far, he could do with a little ego death.
“patrick, zweig. i play tennis. and you do, too, don’t you?” he knew the answer to that question and he knew exactly who you were, because your father’s foundation that this very event was being held for, was titled in your name. “oh, that’s right. yeah, your parents were, i think.. third place at last year’s st. jude’s fundraiser?” his face twisted up in shame so satisfactorily, you had to physically bite back an evil giggle of victory. “well, patrick. it was really nice talking—“
“i’ve got something stronger than champagne in my car.” his tone was flat, practically monotonous, but his words had an implication of sheer fun, and who were you to skip out on that?
so, here you were, orange vodka bottle in your right hand as you jerked a whining patrick off with your left. “god, you’re so fucking pent up. what is it, tennis? or is it that no girl wants to fuck you, so you haven’t blown a decent load since back at school?”
ooh, he would tell it to you so straight, spit out evidence-backed statements of how easy it was to get a pretty girl on her knees for him whenever he wanted, he would. he would, if his mind wasn’t so fogged up with the pleasure, and the drinks, and mostly you. you you you.
“fuck—t’s so good, so good. please, i wanna cum, wanna cum,” he’d plead through the thick steam growing in the increasingly too-small cockpit of his car.
“how bad?” nipping at his ear, you were waiting to hear him beg, and he was waiting to swallow his mass of pride enough to get it out. “so bad, really fucking bad. i need it, need you, fuck. shit—please, need it so much,” he was so convincing, and it would’ve swayed a kinder soul, but then again, patrick likes his girls mean.
“no.” with your hand lost on his stupidly bricked length, patrick groaned, and bitched, and whined, and complained about how unfair you were being, and how he’d never do that to you, and blah blah blah. “well, i can’t say i care, so. maybe i’ll see you later. bye, patrick,” your fingers twinkled goodbye in a wave, and you were out of the vehicle and back inside the party without another word.
it wasn’t over then, of course not, and you knew it. thus, it came as no shocker when an unknown number randomly applepays you $1000 in the middle of the night, along with a text that reads as follows.
had a great time. hope we run into each other again sometime soon. and, don’t spend it all in once place, yeah? - 💸
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worldlxvlys · 10 months ago
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can we PLEASE get a part 2 to obessed
obsessed (part 2)
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutttt, grinding, fingering, degradation
a/n: bye why am i insane 😭
previous part
she’s driving me crazy.
i told her she could sleep here, not wanting her to leave.
i gave her one of my t-shirts to sleep in, which fit her like a dress.
she opted not to wear any pants, the shirt covering her sufficiently.
when she walked back into my room in the shirt, it took everything for me not to pull her onto my face and tell her to ride it.
she bent over to look through her bag for something, making my eyes widen.
my mouth hung open as the curve of her ass cheek and the string of her panties came into view.
yeah, the string. she was wearing a thong, if you could even call it that.
i let out a groan at the sight, quickly covering it up with a fake cough.
“you good?” she asked as she retrieved what she needed and made her way over to me.
“um, yeah” i cleared my throat, adjusting my boxers to hide my growing bulge.
she raised her arms, stretching them before climbing onto the bed.
the action caused the shirt to ride up her thighs, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the newly exposed skin.
she has to know what she’s doing.
before i could stop myself, i grabbed her waist and pulled her onto my lap.
“chris” she yelped out in surprise as my clothed dick rubbed against her poorly-covered pussy.
her eyes widened in shock, but she immediately moved her hips against my lap.
realizing what i had done, i quickly spoke, “fuck, i’m sorry i-” i cut myself off when she grabbed my hands and placed them under her shirt, onto her bare ass.
“don’t apologize, you shouldn’t have started something you couldn’t finish” she spoke firmly as her hips rolled into mine quickly.
“tell me, chris. do you always sleep in just your boxers? or did you just feel like being a little slut cause i’m here?” she asked, her hands running down my chest.
her words alone pushed me to the edge, my eyes rolling into the back of my head.
my hips shook underneath her, a wet spot forming on my boxers.
it was embarrassing how quickly i finished, but i couldn’t help it.
the way she spoke down to me and took complete control sent me into a frenzy.
she seems so innocent and sweet, but in bed ? she’s a completely different person. it excited me to know that nobody else got to see this side of her.
“did you just finish, baby?” she asked as she leaned forward, nipping my earlobe.
i nodded my head quickly, my mouth hanging open.
“so fast, do you like seeing me like this?” she asked as she continued to grind herself on my overstimulated dick.
“fuck yes” i whimpered out, my brows furrowing.
her head fell back as she brought her hands under her shirt, playing with her boobs.
she was giving me everything and nothing at the same time. the way she managed to pleasure us both without taking off any clothes was driving me insane.
i wanted to watch her tits jiggle while she used me to get herself off.
i wanted to see the arousal that covered her pussy drip onto my boxers. i’m sure she knew that, she was teasing me on purpose.
“hmmm, i’m so close chris” she moaned out.
i gripped her plump ass firmly, squeezing it as i pushed her to move faster against me.
she reached for one of my hands, moving it under her shirt and placing it on her clit.
“ohhhh my fuck” i moaned as i felt her slick coat my hand.
she rocked her hips against my hand, desperately chasing her high.
not able to help myself, i slid my finger down to her entrance, pushing it inside.
“fuck, chris! oh my god!” she squealed as her head fell onto my shoulder.
i needed to know what it felt like to have her velvety walls squeeze me.
me eyes rolled back when she clenched around my finger, my mind being corrupted with thoughts of what it would feel like if my cock was inside of her instead.
“chris i’m so close, don’t fucking stop” she whined out, her face scrunching up in pleasure.
i curled my finger inside of her, brushing the spongy tissue of her g-spot.
she dug her nails into my back, dragging them down as i continued to fuck her with my fingers.
suddenly, she began to shake on top of me as she cried out. she released on my fingers as i worked her through her orgasm.
she let out a shakey breath when i pulled my finger out of her as her body relaxed into mine.
the remnants of her last orgasm coated my boxers, making me let out a quiet moan at the feeling.
without hesitation, she swiped her fingers against my boxers, making me shudder as she collected her arousal on her fingers.
“taste” she said before putting her fingers in my mouth.
i eagerly swirled my tongue around her fingers, collecting every drop of her essence off of them.
she moved her fingers out of my mouth, staring at me with her mouth slightly open.
“more” i spoke, watching as her eyes widened slightly.
she kept eye contact with me, moving her face towards my crotch.
my breath hitched as she ran her tongue along my boxers, licking up the rest of her slick.
she brought her mouth back up to my face, and crashed her lips into mine.
i moaned into the kiss as her tongue danced along mine, letting me taste her.
her hands found their way to my hair, her nails scratching my scalp.
my hands found their way under her shirt, gliding over her chest and stomach.
when we pulled away, she bit my lip slightly, eliciting a deep groan from me.
we stared at each other, mouths open and eyes wide as we took in each others fucked out appearances.
her hair was a mess, eyelids drooping slightly and lips swollen.
“well this is fucked” i breathed out, not even thinking before i started talking.
“what? why?” she asked.
“i don’t know if i can just pretend that this didn’t happen” i said.
“who said we were pretending like this didn’t happen?” she asked as her hand went down to my boxers.
she pulled on the waistband, letting it snap back against my skin, making me groan out.
“trust me, baby. when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to forget about this”
🌷🌷🌷🌷
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amywritesthings · 1 month ago
Text
dating on airplane mode. | part two.
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( Read on AO3 )
Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader Fandom: attack on titan (modern au) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: So you're dating your neighbor who also happens to be a sex hotline dom named Levi Ackerman. Stranger things have happened, right?
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - slow burn, eventual smut, sex work, neighbors au, newly established relationship, the direct sequel to Press Four For More Options Credits: dividers by @/saradika-graphics / gif by pankago
part one. / part three. | masterlist
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There’s a pop-up shop about six floors above yours—
A noisy bar quickly becomes background white noise.
—if you don’t mind walking a neighbor home.
And within a breath, the world ceases to exist.
You’re not sure what you were expecting him to say, but it sure as hell isn’t that.
(He gets paid to be a smooth talker, but holy shit, it is catastrophically different when you’re saddled with the reality that you can walk — run — straight to the man inviting you to his home.)
Before you can even think, your voice blurts out of your parted lips:
“I don’t mind.”
Not.
At.
All.
Annie will forgive you.
Hell, you bet everyone crowding that tiny high-top table will forgive you come Monday morning when you’re back in the office.
Half of them won’t even remember that you were there in the first place. It’s a win-win situation.
There is no hesitation in the way you pick up your purse from the countertop and rush towards the front entrance of the bar, your eyes zeroed in on a patient Levi.
It takes some serpentining, but eventually you burst through the doors.
Levi turns towards you, his cell phone still held to his ear. 
There’s a little pink in his cheeks — from the nipping bite of the cold evening weather or his quick-witted pick-up line, you aren’t sure.
“Sorry,” you exhale like you’ve run a marathon in such a short distance. “I should’ve said bye or something before running out here, but I figured—”
The fringe of his hair shakes in his eyes as he holds up a finger to his lips.
Silence.
A stern expression replaces the debonair, and for a moment, you wonder if something is wrong.
But then—
“Yeah, no, I’m calling out for the evening,” he states. “Will you relay, Petra?”
Petra.
You know that woman’s name.
(The hotline receptionist responsible for connecting you to him.)
“Not an emergency, no,” he reassures, brows briefly knitting together. “Just taking some time off.” A pause. “Why are you laughing?” Another pause. “Forward them to Erwin. I trust him not to run my damn clients off. Thanks.”
Oh.
He’s—
“Sorry about that.”
Pocketing his phone, he squares his shoulders and waits expectantly. 
A suspicious crawl of embarrassment runs through your veins, like somehow being spontaneous — selfish — inconvenienced him.
“You had a shift tonight?” you ask belatedly.
“I did,” Levi admits, that buttery-smooth voice curving with a lift of amusement. “And now I don’t.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to mess up your—”
“I have over a hundred hours of time accrued,” he interrupts in the very tone he’s used in your sessions before when you chalk up your existence as being a nuisance to him: stop. “If anything, it’ll get them off of my ass for never using it.”
Your brows raise. “A hundred?”
“Over,” Levi corrects, “so you’re doing me a favor — if you’re still in the mood for tea, of course.”
There’s a pause. A taxi flies by to fill the anticipating void.
I’m well past the mood for tea — is what you would say if you were a psychopath.
Instead you clamp your mouth shut and nod. 
Levi nods with you, seemingly exhaling a breath he may have been holding. As he steps forward, one foot in front of the other.
His attention drops from your face, searching your form in a way that makes you feel exposed.
Wanted.
Then he clears his throat and raises a stiff elbow — a polite gesture.
Take it.
The sheer idea of touching him is so fucking daunting.
Until now, you haven’t done anything but fantasize about him, but he’s flesh and blood and right in front of you — if you’re willing to simply take.
So you do.
Slowly you glide your hand over the crease of his elbow, tucking it against his side until your bodies are looped. The sheer cut of his bicep in his 90-degree angle threatens to make you lose your composure.
Jesus, it’s so solid.
(It’ll be a miracle if you even make it back to his apartment in one piece, let alone your own after everything is said and done.)
He walks. You follow until you match his pace.
For most of the journey, the two of you step in silent tandem. 
While he stares ahead, stopping you both whenever you reach a crosswalk, you can’t help but look over his profile. His cheekbones are even higher than you imagined, chiseled from the Gods, with dark hair that fades in an undercut at the nape of his neck.
Levi is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen in your life, and you live in a pretty damn busy city, so you’ve seen a lot of men.
“Stairs or elevator?” he asks once he breaks the rhythm of your feet to move two paces ahead, grabbing the door with his fist. He detaches from you to pull open the door, offering you to walk through first. 
You’re so giddy over the chivalry you nearly miss the question. 
“Wait, what?”
“Stairs.” He nods his head, the stark black fringe waving with it. “Or elevator.”
“You live on the sixteenth floor.” 
“Yeah.”
“Wait — Levi, do you walk the fucking stairs?”
Levi blinks like he has to remember that isn’t normal before clearing his throat.
“Sometimes.”
“Oh my god.”
“I didn’t want to get complacent after losing my job at the gym,” he states, changing his trajectory as he heads for the elevator instead.
You’re grateful that, for once, you’re not trying to act brave — or stupid.
Your big mouth doesn’t try to say that sixteen flights of stairs is totally fine just to impress him.
(This man has already heard what you sound like when you orgasm on more than one occasion. In some twisted way, the two of you are way past the surface stages of courting, but it doesn’t make this any less daunting.)
Once more he tracks ahead to hold the elevator door for you. Waiting until you’re comfortably inside, he presses the grayed ‘16’ button on the panel. It illuminates in an outdated hazy yellow — forcing your attention to the grayed ‘10’ just below it.
Six fucking floors, all this time.
Once the doors close, Levi Ackerman leans his back against the metal wall, his arms crossed and forearms barred from his rolled-up sleeves. 
You stay put in the dead center of the lift, watching him stare at the elevator panel until he lifts his chin to look back at you.
Neither of you look away.
The prolonged eye contact feels like an acknowledgement of a solved mystery between two people.
He knows you better than most people. You’d wager you may know him just as well.
“You okay?” he asks, softer this time. 
The intensity of his gaze doesn’t waver.
You find yourself nodding before you realize it. 
“Are you?”
Levi takes a moment to drop his attention an indiscernible amount, mulling over your question, before meeting your eyes once again.
“Yeah. Better than.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Nothing can stop the smile growing on your face, not even by pressing your lips together.
“Never told me your preference,” he states casually, shaking some of his black fringe from his eyes. “In tea, I mean.”
“I’m happy to have whatever you have,” you promise. “I’m not picky.”
“You can be,” he promises right back. “Trust me, I have every type of tea you could think of.”
“Hoarding?”
“Hopelessly addicted, more like.”
The elevator pauses and gives way to the sixteenth floor’s hallway. When the door opens, Levi unfurls his arms to hold his hand out for you to take — only to seem to think better of it and fish for his keys instead as he takes the lead.
Instinctually your hand flexes at the ready to accept, but it falls limp to your side with the decision to simply follow behind.
(Yeah — you’re not used to the proximity yet, either.)
After passing a few apartments, Levi pauses at a door identical to yours and fiddles with the lock until it gives. 
He pushes it open, gesturing for you to walk in first.
A part of you wants to hesitate.
The rest of you refuses.
His apartment is clean to a degree you’ve never seen before — for a person who had no idea he was going to end up coming home with a stranger, you’re impressed by the lack of clothes lying about or…
Really anything.
Everything appears pristine. 
Taken care of.
So meticulously in order that you quickly toe each shoe off before stepping inside to leave the dirt and grime of the city at his doorstep. 
Levi follows suit, removing his shoes and closing the door behind him.
As you stand awkwardly by the door, he shuffles around you to the kitchenette mirroring yours a few apartments below. 
He reaches up into the cupboards to take out two mugs, preparing a kettle on the stove.
“Make yourself at home,” he offers, glancing over his shoulder towards you.
Right.
At home.
At home in the apartment where you got your shit verbally rocked for a week straight.
Afraid of offending him, you begin a slow mosey around the perimeter.
To the right is a cluster of framed photographs hanging on a wall — one portrays a tall, handsome blonde wearing dog tags around his neck and an all-smiles brunette with glasses cinching a less-than-enthused Levi between them. 
The proximity suggests they could be his friends, though the keys each person holds in the photo makes you realize a second later: 
In the background is a boxing ring, barely unpacked.
The co-owners of the old gym, maybe?
Considering the one person has dog tags, you can only assume they all met in the army and found themselves in the same city after deployment.
Another framed photograph has Levi in a similar annoyed disposition, arms crossed and unenthusiastic in contrast to the surrounding smiling young adults. They crowd him in various poses of muscle flexing, proudly sporting Survey Gym tees.
So his gym was called Survey Gym, huh?
The name rings a bell, if only in passing.
The young faces surrounding him must have been his trainees. His fighters.
(The people he held dear before the gym went under and he had to find a new path.)
“Trying to find dirt on me already?”
His voice makes you jump out of your damn skin.
“Oh — shit, sorry,” you sputter, stepping away from the wall. “I was just—”
“That was a joke,” he interrupts, the corner of his lip twitching. 
Levi takes the initiative to walk over to you with both mugs in hand, steaming from freshly brewed tea.
He holds out a no-frills emerald mug to you, and the scent finally catches your nose:
Lavender.
“Those are my friends, if you’re too polite to ask.”
“I was relying on context clues,” you confess, mindful of the heat when taking the mug from his hand. You sip until a familiar warmth spreads through your body. “Co-owners?”
“Used to be,” he answers after his own gulp. His free hand gestures to the photo with two people. “Hange’s probably clinically insane and Erwin’s not much better.”
“The guy you mentioned over the phone to Petra?”
Levi nods, taking another long sip of his tea. You follow suit, enjoying the taste.
“Same guy who got me into the hotline, yeah.” He switches focus to the other photo. “Some of my fighters. They’re busy training with other coaches and shit now.”
“Would you ever go back to training fighters if you could?”
“Probably,” Levi replies, “but I’m not exactly the easiest to work with. If I’m training anyone, it’s alongside Erwin. No exceptions.”
Silence settles between your bodies.
As you continue to stand there, allowing the aroma of the tea to calm your senses, you know — the longer you stand here, the more what ifs begin to plague your mind.
What if you met his friends, became a part of his life?
What if you don’t measure up to his expectations?
What if you just said what was on your mind without holding back — would it scare him?
When you feel your mug suddenly grow light, your instinct is to clench your hand around the ceramic handle.
However, you come back down to Earth to realize the person maneuvering the cup is Levi, who has in turn moved closer to you —
So close you can smell the faint scent of a woody, musky cologne.
Angled towards your body, he pauses in removing the mug from your hands when he feels your muscles tense. “You’re disappearing on me.”
So he noticed, even in person.
Say it.
Say it, idiot.
“Just…” 
Trailing off, you find yourself trusting him; letting go of the mug freely so that he can take it back. Levi sets both mugs down on a slender table situated just under the photographs, placing them on swirling marble coasters.
“Just?” he repeats, a mere murmur this time.
“This doesn’t feel real yet,” you confess. “Being here with you. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I wanted this but in my own apartment. Hell, it feels like this is my apartment because we have the same fucking layout — but yours is so much cleaner, I won’t even lie to you.”
It brings you both to laugh under your breath, octaves intertwining. 
When he shakes his head, you find yourself gravitating to his orbit.
“Doubt it’s bad.”
“Oh, it’s a pigsty compared to this place,” you nervously giggle, moving even closer. “Like, I should go home to clean it – but later.”
“Definitely later.”
“Like tomorrow kind of later," you accidentally joke.
“Agreed.”
Oh.
Before the realization hits you, your breath tickles his cheek. Levi is practically toe-to-toe and warm, so very warm, to the degree of dizzying every reservation you had.
You don’t have the confidence to stare anywhere but his lips, parted with little puffs mirroring yours.
“And what is that you want now?” he adds quietly — a question that shoots straight to your core, twisting it with an intense desire that it nearly takes your breath away.
You know.
And if you were a gambling woman, then you suspect that he knows, too.
Three words exit your mouth, straight from your very soul:
“To be selfish.”
It’s all it takes.
As if released from a leash holding you both to your leads, you meet Levi in a passionate, suffocating kiss. 
His hands reach for your face the same time you reach for his, mangling your limbs in a race to touch, to hold — to feel.
Manners are left behind as you press your lips to his, kissing him like you’ll die without. Your own hands bury themselves in the softness of his hair, dragging through the freshly-buzzed undercut and earning yourself a groan.
Shit.
He sounds even better in person.
“Levi—”
You part your lips with a shuddered breath when his tongue leisurely slides across it. All coherent thought ceases to exist.
It’s just him pushing closer — guiding you backwards — until your back hits something solid.
A surprised grunt melts into another groan as he moves one hand to cradle your head, mindful that the back of your skull doesn’t slam against the wall.
Levi tastes like the pineapple seltzer you abandoned back at the bar.
You want this.
Him.
Never in your wildest dreams have you considered sleeping over a man’s apartment before the third date, let alone the first, yet the heat of him — the taste of him — opens brand-new possibilities that mostly focus on the rest of that body underneath his gray long-sleeved shirt.
You're already grabbing the hem of your shirt. The fabric feels too tight against your blazing skin.
Off.
Everything needs to be off.
“Hey,” he exhales in-between kisses, catching your lower lip in his teeth to tug at it. Instantly you whine into his mouth, an involuntary (and fucking embarrassing) noise. “Hey—”
If he asks, you’ll say yes. 
To hell with the unwritten rules.
You’re consenting adults, it’s clear you both want this, and when push comes to shove —
A hand shoots out, covering yours before your shirt can lift over your bra.
“Baby—”
All motor functions effectively freeze when you realize Levi is pulling away, forcefully creating some distance between your panting bodies.
“Baby, listen to me.”
As if in pain, he grits his teeth and pulls away from the kiss, eyes damn near black. 
You’re left watching, stunned and disheveled and painfully aroused.
Worries go from nonexistent to overdrive in a matter of seconds.
“What’s wrong?” you quietly ask despite your budding panic. “Fuck. Sorry, did I do something wro—”
“No. Shit, are you kidding?”
Those stormy eyes catch yours, and you feel another sharp wave of desire flow through your body.
“You’re perfect,” Levi continues, struggling to catch his breath. “You’re fucking perfect, it’s just—”
Just.
One word acts like a splash of cold water.
You’re perfect, but something is imperfect about this. 
You’re perfect, but he still wants to stop.
Levi scowls, voice rough. “Oi. I can hear you thinking a mile a minute.”
Heat rises to your face. “Me?”
“Yeah, you — so don’t.”
For good measure of reassurance, Levi leans back in to gently peck your lips. It’s less heated but by no means less passionate.
You belatedly press your lips back to his before watching him pull away. 
His lips are slick with saliva and exertion. 
There’s a deeper flush on his face that wasn’t there earlier.
“It’s just that I don’t want to rush this,” he states as calmly and evenly as he can.
Objectively, you get it.
Objectively, Levi is making a whole lot of sense. Rushing into things could end up with a lot of heartbreak and confusion. Taking it slow hurts way less than speedrunning the firsts of a new dating-situation-whatever this is.
Subjectively, you’ve heard him moan in your actual face and you would very much like to hear it again and again until it’s burned into the back of your brain like a core memory.
“And I’m not trying to say that we can’t — trust me, I want to — but you’re not some one-night stand to me in any capacity of the damn phrase.”
Unable to help yourself, you nervously roll your eyes and shrug a shoulder. 
“Technically we’re kind of way past one night stands considering we’ve had, like, six.”
A wicked smirk flickers across his face. 
“Yeah, no fucking kidding — but that isn’t what I mean.”
Taking yet another slow, even inhale, the dark-haired man runs his thumb affectionately over your cheek.
“Let me do right by you. By this. Even if it’s corny as shit, I’ll try it.”
Pausing, he drops the hand on your face to gently take your hand.
“I want to take you out on a date. A nice date. Something proper — starting with finishing our tea, then walking you home so I know you got to your apartment safe.”
“I’m six floors away, Levi,” you tease.
“I’ll settle on taking the elevator with you,” he retorts, teasing right back. "Still: let me prove I can be good to you. That I can earn you."
He pauses, jaw clenched.
"Earn us."
Reluctantly you both detach, the taste shared on your lips. He wastes no time to take your hand in his, squeezing it for emphasis, before giving you back your cup of tea.
Although the room is charged with tension, you both behave.
Sipping tea.
Holding hands.
Staring.
As much as you want to act on your desires, you’re flattered he’s so adamant to take this slow.
It only grounds this fantasy further into the woven fabric of reality — of what’s to come in your life.
Levi is good on his word: he walks you to the elevator, through the corridor and to your apartment.
And when you’ve managed to wriggle your keys into the door, he gently calls your name.
Just as you turn, he places that warm hand on your cheek and presses his lips back to yours.
This time it’s chaste, sweet — lingering.
They brush yours methodically, as if committing your body to memory, before reluctantly pulling away.
“Goodnight, formerly Scarlet,” he states under his breath for only you to hear.
“Goodnight, still Levi,” you return, mirroring his intimacy in tone.
Satisfied, he kisses you one final time before pulling away. 
You watch as he walks backwards towards the stairwell of the apartment complex, a certain glow about him as he asks:
“Will I see you at the gym in the morning?”
As if you’d ever skip a leg day now.
.
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Author's Note:
First of all, much love and appreciation for your patience as I finally found the mental capacity to write this chapter. Naturally it was easier to write in the summer, and fall has been A Time (TM). I have a lot of big life events coming up in the next few weeks, but I will keep the dash posted on when they should expect part three.
Thank you for any likes, replies, etc. Every reblog gives this writer wings.
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