#hey man you wanna sip of this beer

[virmillion]

well (: apparently it was a tiktok. BUT. i found it

[softquietsteadylove]

This Year

"Gil?"

"Oh," he looked up from sweeping the floor of the shop, still wearing his suit and everything. He sniffled and swiped at his nose, "h-hey."

Thena came into the shop, letting the door drift closed behind her. She also still had on the dress she had worn to the school formal, with her white coat unbuttoned over it. "We turned around and you were gone. What happened?"

"Uh," he tried to turn around, pretending to sweep more thoroughly. He hunched around the stick of the handle, "well...remember how I was gonna ask that girl?"

"I recall."

Thena didn't really like her, but when he had asked her if he should ask, she had given him her support anyway. Thena was a good friend, like that. All their friends were.

"Well," Gil sighed, finally setting down the broom and toying with the tie that was loosened but still hanging around his neck. He must have looked so stupid, "she never showed."

"She stood you up?"

"Wait!" he rushed out, knowing that if Thena got out the shop door, she was going to run to that girl's house and throttle her with her bare hands. "I-I mean, I dunno, maybe she had something come up. Maybe...maybe she had something more important to do."

Thena walked closer to him by the front counter. She crossed her arms at him, "nothing should be more important, if she's the right person."

Gil sighed again, not done with his pity party. He still had the stupid flower he was going to give her, too. "Guess she wasn't."

Thena softened, losing the hard edges to her severe expression. Everyone always said Thena was so scary looking, and maybe he could see it if she was pissed off. But he never thought of Thena like that; she was actually really sweet and considerate.

"Then she's not worth your tears."

He sniffled again, but Thena reached up and brushed some off his cheek for him. It wasn't like he had any reason to act like a tough guy around Thena, anyway. After spending all their lives together, it wasn't like she didn't know he cried at sappy movies and videos of puppies walking for the first time.

"And if I ever see her-"

"Hey," he chuckled, grasping her hands in his before she could start naming the litany of things she would do to his failed date. "Look, it doesn't matter, okay?"

She still had a face that made it seem like it very much did.

"I mean," he shrugged, "just 'cause she talks to me in math doesn't mean she wanted to go out with me. Guess I could have thought of that before asking her, but whatever."

"Gil," Thena started and then paused. She liked to choose her words carefully. She looked at him, tilting her head because after hitting middle school he was finally taller than her. "You don't need her."

He chuckled, "thanks."

"I'm not just saying that as your friend," Thena continued. It was more words than he was used to, from her. "You are kind, and sweet, and as far as I'm concerned you are the only boy I have ever known to have any sense."

He snorted, "c'mon, what about Kingo?--or Druig? Or your own brother?"

"Certainly not," she rolled her eyes before paving over his interruption. "You are the best person I know and...and I would hate to think that you wouldn't believe me."

He did feel like the best, when she put it that way. He sighed, just staring at her under the hum of the fluorescent lights of the shop. He always thought they were kinda depressing, like in apocalypse movies, giving a weird tint to people's skin at night.

But Thena always looked so beautiful.

Thena raised on her toes, in the low heels she was wearing to match her dress. For having said that she was only going because their mother said that she had to if Ikaris went - which was a very Ajak thing to say - she certainly hadn't been lazy about her outfit.

Gil closed his eyes, smelling her perfume as she pressed her lips to his. He forgot about the broom, his arms looping around her back as she slid hers around his neck. He had never kissed a girl. He had - secretly - been hoping that tonight would be his opportunity.

This was far, far better than he could have expected.

Thena pulled away, her eyes darting around, looking at him and wondering what he was thinking. She must've let Sersi and Makkari do her makeup because her eyelashes looked darker and longer than usual. "Gil?"

He blinked, still just staring at her. He felt like he was king of the world, though! Man, kissing was way better than everyone made it seem. He had thought surely it had been overhyped, but no, definitely not.

"Gil!"

The rest of their friends also piled into the shop, also looking haphazard with ruffled hair and half buttoned coats. Sersi came charging in first, her hair bouncing around her. Ikaris slid in right behind her, looking the most frustrated. Makkari and Druig followed in after.

"Are you okay?" Sersi asked, "last I checked you were waiting for your date. Next time I go for some punch no one has seen you and Thena's gone too."

"Uh," Gil blinked, as if time had paused and now he was no longer holding - and kissing - Thena, but now Sersi was talking to him and Thena had slid three feet away. "Y-Yeah."

"Yeah?" Ikaris repeated, obviously not the one most enthused to have left the party. He looked over at his sister, though. Despite the rule that if Ikaris went, she had to go, Ikaris was still her brother (annoying and somewhat overprotective). "What?"

"What?" she asked back, even more defensively.

"What's wrong?" he asked more directly, walking closer to her as if he could smell someone expressing interest in her.

"Gil, are you okay?" Sersi asked him much more sweetly (what she saw in Ikaris, none of them would ever know).

"I'm okay," he smiled, nodding at her. The sting that had him dragging his feet all the way home and in here had faded. It almost felt totally healed, actually. "I, uh, got stood up."

"What?!"

That bitch. Makkari shook her head, although Druig was clearly in agreement with her, even if he was too much of an old soul to ever call a girl a bitch.

"Look, it's okay guys, really," Gil again tried to dissuade his much more bloodthirsty friends (Thena, Druig and Kari). "I think it might have been a misunderstanding, actually."

"You're making excuses for her," Thena pursed her lips. Although, given what just happened, maybe her distaste of his date wasn't just disapproval. He raised his eyebrows at her and she rushed to look away from him.

"I drive you all and no one can close a single car door?" Kingo huffed at them as he finally joined their little pity-party. He looked at Gil over everyone else's heads, "you good, big guy?"

Gil snuck another look at Thena, who blushed faintly. He chuckled, "yeah, I'm a lot better, now."

"Good," Kingo let it suffice. He had his moments of deep emotional understanding, always peppered in between his usual need for attention. "So, what's the plan?"

Everyone looked at everyone else, standing around in Gil's uncle's shop attached to their home.

"Uh, hey!" Gil smiled, finally tugging his tie off completely. "Gramps only ran out to get some pizza and stuff. I was just gonna lock this place up anyway. You guys can come in and...hang out, if you want."

"Party at Gil's!"

He smiled, relieved that he hadn't spoiled the night for anyone. Makkari and Druig happily linked hands and went to the fridges to pick out drinks for everyone. And he knew they would have no problem ditching the formal dance, dates or not.

Ikaris gave his sister another glare, but they were equally stubborn, so there was no way he was going to get any answers from her here and now. He let Sersi drag him away by the arm to pick out sweets.

Sersi did lean back to whisper to Thena, "I assume you went through with it."

Thena swatted her away, as well as Kingo, who gave her a look that seemed between Sersi and Ikaris' levels of knowledge. She ducked her head.

Gil swayed in her direction as their friends helped themselves to the family shop. He felt pretty confident for a guy who had been stood up on his first official date a mere hour earlier.

"You didn't have to invite us to stay," she advised him, also swaying in her hesitation to choose a direction.

He shrugged, pulling just one hand out of his suit pants pocket. "Hey, we should have some fun tonight, right?"

Maybe surprised by his optimism, she smiled. "I suppose you're right."

"Uh," he started and looked around, losing some of that confidence again. Thena just looked so pretty, it was hard to think straight. "I-I guess this is kinda lame, but..."

She stared as he pulled out the flower he had gotten from behind the front counter. "You got her a rose?"

"Well, I wanted to get something," he shrugged, snapping off the long stem like it was nothing. He chuckled, "i actually picked the white one because...it reminded me of you."

Thena let him slip the budding rose into the bun binding her hair together. She stared up at him.

"Sorry," he blushed, slipping his hands into his pockets again. "I'll pick you something more special, next time."

She smiled, visibly resisting the urge to touch it now that it was settled in her hair. She looked towards their friends, already heading towards the back door that would lead through his garage and to the house. She tugged at his sleeve faintly, "it'll be perfect."

[lokissweater]

hey! i really love your fics and i have a special request 4 my 19th birthday ( aug 16 ) . can you do inexperienced yuuta x inexperienced reader or frat boy/play boy yuuta x shy nerdy reader? I really luv u and it would mean alot 2 me if you did this,feel free to say no or ignore this if you want! no pressure!

OH MY GOODNESSS i could never ignore this! i can ABSOLUTELY cook this one up for you and i hope i met your expectations!! i wanted to release this right on your birthday, so here is my gift to you! <3 ILY you’re so sweet thank you for sending in a request!

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finally.

{frat boy/playboy yuta okkotsu x nerdy f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu is a typical popular frat boy player who’s never been told no, but at one of his regular parties where he spots your pretty little self in the kitchen, and you turn him down? his entire existence resets as he then cannot stop thinking about you and tries his absolute hardest to change the impression you have on him.

warnings: college au, afab!reader, fluufff, mentions of alcohol and drinking, yuta LOVES you, he’s a little weenie at first, character development yuta, no smut in this one!, cursing, party fight, protective yuta, yuta fights someone lol, slight sexual themes but really nothing.

word count: 5k

authors note: OH HOW I LOVE THIS ONEEE!! i hope i’m feeding you guys well this week with these fics hehe!! IM WRITING A FREAKY ONE FOR THIS NEXT SO STAY TUNED!! love you love you <3

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yuta okkotsu was the biggest player and frat boy to ever plague your college campus— having parties literally every other night and trashing the absolute fuck out of his frat house after every single one, living in the privileges of popularity as he was without a doubt the hottest man there.

he absolutely relished in his reputation, loved the attention, loved the stares he got, and had a body count that absolutely shot through the roof in numbers.

and yuta was quite literally a typical frat boy. he was loud and obnoxious, the most stubborn hot headed man to ever exist on the face of the planet, passed the time playing beer pong for fun and drinking, and had girls practically at his feet, him never having to work for anything to get in his bed and fuck.

until he met you.

you had timidly walked into one of his frat parties one night, shy, cutely nerdy, a little scared and absolutely drop dead gorgeous, your energy an entirely different one from his own as he watched you a little too much throughout the night, rehearsing his perfected plan of getting girls into bed with him as he finally spotted you alone in the kitchen after a while, approaching you.

yuta flashed you an attractive polished smile as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, practically cornering you in as you eyed him alarmingly.

“hey,” he sipped at his beer. “what’s your name?”

you awkwardly shifted, wondering where the hell your best friend was as the biggest player you’ve ever heard of was talking to you.

“y-y/n…” you stammered, your gaze barely looking at him but giving a small smile through your nervousness nonetheless.

“pretty name for a pretty girl,” he hummed. “you’ve never come to my parties before, have you?”

you shook your head no, your doe eyes finally peering up at him.

“welcome then!” he chirped smoothly and leaned closer to you, his breath faintly smelling of alcohol. “you here by yourself?”

“no i’m with a friend, actually.” you laughed awkwardly, your cheeks red with embarrassment but smiling politely through your discomfort, not wanting to offend him in any way.

yuta nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd. “did you lose them?”

“i— i guess so—”

“you can stick with me then.” he shrugged, a sly smile on his face as he sweet talked you, it slightly faltering when he noticed how uncomfortable you looked, but carrying on anyways. “you wanna head upstairs? maybe we can—”

“no thank you.”

he paused.

no?

“no?”

he was yuta okkotsu. no girl has ever told him no before.

you shook your head at him and gave him a sugary smile, your tone kind and polite as you started to walk away from him. “i’m sorry, i think i see my friend over there though! thank you for keeping me company, i hope it wasn’t too much trouble!”

he watched you walk away then in your tiny little skirt, and he felt stupidly offended. absolutely stupidly offended as he slightly scoffed and shook his head, taking a swig of his beer, his body and mind literally glitching with the foreign feeling of rejection.

yuta tossed his empty beer bottle lazily in a black garbage bag and stuffed his hands into his pockets, his long legs already pulling him over to the beer pong table in the living room, opting to forgetting the entire encounter he had with you altogether and shaking it off.

except he couldn’t. he couldn’t shake it off.

his brain was buzzing and utterly reeling over the thought of your timid nature and soft spoken words and pretty pretty face from that point forward, thoughts that aggravated him to no end that bubbled up every time he ate, slept, was in class, and did basically anything.

he didn’t know why it was happening. he didn’t know why you took over his every fucking thought as he only interacted with you for like five minutes. but your aura was different. so poised, so shy and gentle, and it was like a red string was physically pulling him towards you everywhere you went.

yuta saw you around campus a lot more after that, you sticking out like a sore thumb and blinding his vision whenever you walked past him, your smile sweet and respectful towards him that lasted only a millisecond as you walked down further, his eyes watching you over his shoulder, soft.

you conversations with him were nothing but polite and casual as he tried to talk to you again and again, your body language guarded and careful, but your voice like silky honey, speaking to him with more kindness than he deserved.

yuta never seemed to be able to get past the invisible wall you built in front of him.

“a girl like her isn’t gonna go for a guy like you, yuta.” one of his frat brothers muttered to him, having been fed up with yuta’s moping and grumbling around the house ever since he saw you.

“and why not.” he gruffed, his arms tightly crossed over his chest as he leaned back on the couch.

“because she’s nothing like us.” he emphasized. “she’s a nerd, respects herself, is way too good for you, and would never let herself waste time with a guy of your reputation.”

his frat brother patted him heavily on the shoulder. “just go back to the ones you usually go for. they’re easy.”

yuta only rolled his eyes and stood, but he really couldn’t deny what he had said. you were too good for him, way too good for him, his life completely mismatched from yours— paths never meant to cross as he solemnly watched you from afar, wanting you to smile at him the way you smiled at others, wanting you to talk about your precious nerdy interests and your studies with him like you do with your friends, and wanting you to just simply look at him longer than the usual casual hello you gave him.

but you never did.

in an attempt to try and talk to you again without seeming like an absolute fucking stupid creep like last time (something he quickly realized), he started throwing parties at his frat literally every single night in hopes of you showing up, scanning the crowd and sulking in a corner when he couldn’t find you, the bags under his eyes growing darker and darker with every time you didnt make an appearance.

he tried to go back to his old ways and hook up with the girls he usually did, tried to bury you in the back of his mind and go back to before, but he just couldn’t, his mind foggy and preoccupied with thoughts of you that invaded his every neuron, making him kiss his hook ups back lazily or straight up just cancel on them— stopping all together in the end.

it had been months, and yuta sat bored out of his mind on the living room couch during another one of his parties, not a single drop of alcohol in his system as music pumped and drummed through the frat that made his headache ten times worse.

these everyday parties were pointless.

he sat up and trudged to the kitchen, pushing past his friends for a beer until he froze.

there you stood, finally, leaning against the kitchen counter all by yourself, just like how you were when he first saw you.

his eyes flew open and he quickly smoothed over his white t-shirt with his hands, heart hammering against his chest so hard that it traveled down to his ribcage as he approached you, internally freaking the fuck out.

“hey y/n,” he greeted quietly and calm, trying his absolute hardest to convey sincerity towards you. “how are you doing?”

your eyes snapped to his and you leaned back a bit, but smiled. “hi yuta! i’m doing okay. how are you?”

he could practically see the wall you had in front of him, your posture timid and cautious, and his eyes only grew more insecure.

“i’m good! do you— do you want a drink? or something? i could—”

“oh it’s okay yuta! i’m fine,” you answered shyly, a grin on your breathtaking face.

yuta gnawed on his thumb, looking around the kitchen for something, anything that could fix the image you had on him.

the fridge.

“do you um—” he walked over to the fridge, almost stumbling over his own shoes as he opened it. “do you want maybe apple juice? or— or i have chocolate milk? or sunny d i drink like an entire dozen a day but—”

you giggled.

his head snapped over to you and watched your pearly smile, shining just for him for a moment, his shoulders slowly relaxing.

yuta sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and laughed along with you.

“sunny d would be great!”

he stared blankly, and then quickly nodded. “o—okay! yes sunny d—”

he ransacked through his fridge, knocking over several cans of energy drinks and beers before he finally found the sunny d’s in the back, tearing one out from the pack and closing the fridge.

“here you go.”

your cheeks glowed pink as you shyly took the small bottle from his hands, a cute wobbly smile on your face that made yuta’s chest clench.

precious.

he wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans.

“i wanted to apologize—” he strained out. “for the way i spoke to you when we first met.”

you stared at him.

“it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable, and i acted like a complete dingbat with the things i said, so i just—” he scuffed his shoe against the kitchen floor. “i’m really sorry.”

you were quiet, big doe eyes blinking up at him in shock— until your frame gently deflated, eyes softening for him.

“you don’t have to apologize yuta honestly.” your soft voice soothed him, a sound he craved to hear everyday since the moment he met you. “i don’t think any less of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“you don’t?”

you shook your head cutely, beaming. “i don’t.”

he felt like he could breathe again.

your invisible wall slowly and gradually crumbled away the more you got to know yuta after that. he was still a little flirt, but only a little flirt with you, and he still did his frat boy job duties everyday, but he toned down the parties massively and stopped playing beer pong and drinking just for fun.

it would be a lie if you said you weren’t hesitant about yuta to begin with. you knew of his reputation and the risks you ran with befriending him the way you were— you well aware that he was trying to win you over, but you saw something different in him that he didn’t show to anyone else, and you trusted him, the goodness of your heart always giving people the benefit of the doubt.

he was trying his absolute hardest for you and changing his bad traits, wanting to become a person that deserved to be with you as he listened to you ramble on and on about your classes and your studies all of the time, him smiling adoringly at you because he genuinely loved so much hearing you talk to him and listen to anything you had to say— and yuta was falling practically head over heels over the way you gushed about your little nerdy interests, your eyes shimmering every time.

“and what’s this one called?” he asked softly.

you glanced over. “that’s the corpse flower! they only bloom for two to three days every two to three years.”

“only for two to three days?!” he whispered harshly, the ambiance in the botanical garden quiet and serene as you both observed the different kinds of breeds, flowers being your specialty of knowledge.

and he wanted to know all about it, even though he had a pamphlet in his hand that told him everything.

he wanted to hear it from you.

“and this one?”

he pointed to a vibrant scarlet red flower.

“that’s the cardinal flower. they attract little bees and hummingbirds!”

your words were gentle and polite, your eyes sparkling at all of the different flowers in front of you.

“oo! and this one—” you stopped suddenly, slowly retracting your hand and looking at him bashfully, your cheeks redder than ever.

yuta’s eyebrows furrowed. “what? why’d you stop?” he looked to where you had been staring. “what about this one?”

“sorry!” you sputtered. “i felt like i was getting carried away and talking way too much…”

you laughed it off, but yuta only shook his head.

“no you weren’t. you weren’t at all.”

you peered up at him shyly.

“you can talk about anything you want with me wherever we are, y/n. i like it when you explain to me these things, or anything you know really.” he ruffled your hair. “i like listening to you.”

your cheeks adorned a pinky shade as you took in what he said, and you smiled so so big then, nodding.

“so what’s this one?” he pressed again, lightly.

the bed contained a mix of white and purple flowers, small and dainty as they swayed to and fro a bit with every breeze.

“those are pansies,” you leaned over the railing. “i like these especially because it looks like they have another pair attached to them on the other side.”

“like a little buddy,” yuta commented.

you laughed softly, “yeah! like a little buddy.”

he pointed to a specific pansy that had one white flower and one purple flower on the opposite side.

“that’s you and me.”

“is it?” you grinned. “who’s who?”

“you’re the white one and i’m the purple one,” yuta absentmindedly turned and grabbed your hands gently, playing with your fingertips— and you let him. “because you’re pretty and really fucking smart and way too nice to me, and i’m a douchebag and sometimes i’m a mean and scary old fart.”

you giggled loudly at his joke, shaking your head. “nuh uh. i don’t agree.”

“you don’t?” he quirked an eyebrow, a silly smile on his face.

you shook your head again. “you’re genuine yuta. really genuine. and you’re funny, you never make me feel embarrassed for the things that i love, and you make others happy!… sometimes.”

yuta laughed, “sometimes?” he softly placed your hands back at your sides. “yeah, you’re not wrong.”

“but you make me happy, always.” you finished off.

his eyes lit up like a firework. “really? so does this mean you’ll finally say yes to going out with me and give me a little kiss?”

you snickered and covered your mouth, your cheeks flushed. “nuh uh.”

“aww mannn,” yuta groaned and leaned against the railing, but turned his head to the side after a few seconds and looked at you, giving a tender smile.

your eyes continued to sparkle over the flower beds in front of you, but yuta’s eyes only sparkled at the one flower in front of him.

that’s where he started calling you flower.

“that’s okay!” he leaned back up. “i’ll keep trying.”

and boy did he try. each and every single day yuta tried as he brought you little treats from the campus cafe, or helped carry your textbooks to wherever you went, brought you neatly packaged flowers or sometimes would even pull his car over when he saw pretty ones on the side of the road, getting off and running to pluck them, handing them to you through the window with a goofy grin.

everything was bliss between you two, and your world only got brighter as you hung out with him.

but for yuta, his world got a little complicated.

his former hookups only grew sour once they found out about you, the girl yuta seemed to spend every waking hour with, completely blind sighted to the fact as they thought he would’ve dumped you months ago already.

and his frat brothers were just bothered. yuta wasn’t managing the frat like he used to before, like he was supposed to as their leader, neglecting the collective reputation they all had with him not sweet talking the entire female student body, or their parties not running every single night anymore— and even when they did run, yuta wasn’t ever even there to begin with, he was with you, something they quickly realized.

“you have to cut it out man,” one of them said. “this frat is turning into a shit hole because you keep spending your time with that girl—“ he stopped. “who the fuck even is she? i mean if it was layla fine everybody knows layla but—”

“who she is is none of your fucking business?” yuta snapped. “and just because i’m not sending girls for you to jerk your dick with doesn’t mean this frat is turning into a ‘shit hole.’”

some of the boys snickered.

“you wanna run the maintenance on the house? you wanna call up the fucking board and ask for the ten thousand fucking permits we have to have for our parties every year? you think you can run that?”

“no—”

“then be my fucking guest.”

“okay fine, i’m sorry man.” he sighed. “we haven’t had a party in a week though, we have to throw one tomorrow and you have to be there. then ill call it even.”

yuta snorted. call it even? whatever.

he begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to be there whatsoever but softening up to the fact that maybe he was neglecting his frat a little too much.

so when he called you up that day for your nightly phone calls, yuta asked for your attendance.

“i know— i know parties aren’t really your thing…” he pursed his lips, staring up at the ceiling as he had you on speaker. “but i’d feel a lot better if you were there… and you won’t be alone! you’ll be with me the whole time so—”

yuta sighed. “…i have been neglecting the frat a little bit, and they’re pissed at me.”

you gasped softly, “they are?”

“yeah but i don’t give a fuck.”

you both giggled.

“but i do want to make them somewhat happy so that’s why i gotta throw this party… can you come? it’s okay if not flower don’t worry—”

“of course i can go yuta!” you spoke cutely over the speaker. “as long as you give me a sunny d i’ll be okay.”

he laughed.

“i feel like…” you struggled. “them being mad and what’s happening with your frat is partially my fault yuta… i’m sorry.”

your voice was so worrisome, you feeling tremendous guilt on the other line as you bit your lip.

“what?” his eyes narrowed. “no flower, absolutely not. why would you think that?”

“because i keep asking you to hang out with me,” you spoke softly. “and i feel like im hogging you from your frat boy duties.”

yuta chuckled and shook his head. “i would ten times rather spend time with you than hang out with these fucking dummies.” he sat up on his bed. “i love it when you ask for me flower. keep doing it please. whatever that’s happening with my frat strictly has to do with me okay? not you.”

you grinned on the other end, your heart giddy. “okay.”

so the night of the party, you showed up to his frat looking absolutely gorgeous in your tight little dress, his hands instantly clamming up and his throat closing at the scent of your strawberry perfume and lovely face alone.

yuta tried so hard to keep his eyes respectful and not drift down to your ass or the way your perfect tits squeezed out from the top, almost physically slapping himself when he accidentally touched you way lower than he should have when guiding you through the crowd.

everywhere he went people were greeting him or passing him shots, him quickly acknowledging everybody and downing whatever they gave him as you shyly and timidly stuck to his body (which he loved).

yuta taught you how to play beer pong that night and cheered like an absolute fucking idiot whenever you would make it in, drinking the cups for you instead as he knew you weren’t the biggest fan of alcohol, which made you a little weak in the knees that he catered to you so much.

the party was actually way more fun than the both of you expected, especially for yuta, because he proudly had you on his arm as you walked throughout the house, you trying your absolute hardest to ignore the stares you got from different girls and not uttering a single word about it to yuta, not wanting to burden him and take his focus away from rejuvenating the frat and his brothers.

all was bliss, until it wasn’t.

“is this her? the girl you’re always talking to?” one of his frat brothers stumbled through the crowd, the one that argued with him the day before, drunk off of his freaking mind as his eyes raked over your body like nothing.

yuta instantly picked up on that and stiffened, “yeah.”

he tried his best to swallow his annoyance and be civil as he gently placed a hand on your back and softly ushered you forward, you shy and clinging onto his shirt. “this is y/n.”

“h—hi.”

“i see why you abandoned us for a nerd man!” he slurred. “she’s fucking hot. never seen tits look so good—”

your breath hitched.

“the fuck you just say?” yuta tugged you behind him. “the hell is wrong with you man? don’t talk about her like that.”

you noticed several eyes looking over.

“what!” he hiccuped dumbly. “they do! why are you getting pissed—”

“i don’t give a shit!” yuta snapped. “don’t talk about her like that!”

he scoffed, swaying a little. “what, like you actually care about her anyways—”

“are you fucking serious?” yuta stepped forward and you tugged him back, your eyes frantic as they scanned over the crowd forming and back to him.

“no yuta, he’s drunk it’s okay—”

“she’s just another one for your body count, once you fuck her you’re gonna leave—”

yuta slipped from your grasp and lunged at him, tackling him and towering over him on the ground as he fisted his shirt and jerked him up, yuta landing punch after punch to his face as the crowd yelled, cheered and recorded around you.

“yuta please!” you tried to get his attention, your chest heaving in a panic as you watched the other guy land a hit on yuta, not wanting him to get hurt over you at all whatsoever.

yuta dodged another coming hit and beat the shit out of him, grueling him down to a mere pulp as everything around him went completely white and fuzzy, his body stinging with absolute rage.

he was furious.

finally, several other frat brothers broke through the crowd and pulled yuta off of him.

“that’s enough that’s enough!”

“guys stop!”

quickly, you grabbed yuta’s hand once they put him aside and tugged him away from the crowd, speed walking to the front door.

“you’re out of the fucking frat you piece of shit!” yuta practically roared behind him as you pulled him. “you’re out!”

your trembling fingers hurriedly turned the knob and opened the door, dragging him out down the steps to the porch and across the grass, not saying a single word to him yet as he kept breathing out desperate apologies to you with every step.

once you both were a safe distance away from the house and just a tiny bit down the street, you let go of his hand and turned to him.

“—fuck im sorry i’m sorry im so sorry—” yuta shoved the base of his palms into his eyes as he threw his head back, “i just fucked everything up between us i—”

yuta knew you would never want to be with a guy like him, especially one that couldn’t keep his shit together and resorted to violence the way he did minutes ago, right in front of you. a guy like that didn’t deserve you. you deserved way way fucking more. and as he tore his palms away from his face, eyes looking up at the night sky, he knew he completely messed up his chances with you for good.

his head snapped down to look at you, his eyebrows pinched and eyes contorted in absolute guilt and agony as he placed his bloody knuckled hands on your little cheeks.

“i’m so fucking sorry he said those things to you like that that was not okay flower,” he emphasized. “and i’m so sorry i beat him when you told me not to i— i just couldn’t stand there when he was talking to you like that man—”

he dropped his hands and cursed, his arms going up as he covered his eyes again.

“yuta it’s okay—”

“no,” he shook his head and looked at you. “no it’s not okay. you deserve way more than this and no matter how fucking hard i try to do better, the life i built before you just doesn’t let me.”

his eyes got so sad, saying words he didn’t want to say, but knew he had to. “you shouldn’t be around a guy like me flower, you really shouldn’t. fuck— i don’t want you around a guy like me. you’re too precious for that. i’m gonna end up screwing you over like i always do—”

“yuta stop.” you raised your voice a little, your tone one he’d never ever heard come out of your mouth, firm and serious in contrast to the sweetness you always gave him.

he shut right up.

“come sit down with me on the curb,” you pulled his arm. “please.”

he followed you and sat down next to you on the side walk with his head down, you taking in how yuta only had one little cut next to his eyebrow, pride funnily bubbling up in your chest as you realized how good he actually fought.

he did that. for you. he made a scene out of himself and protected your name.. for you. although you hated that he got into a fight, you knew he was trying so so hard for you, going above and beyond for a year now trying to fix himself to be a better man deserving of you, and you were immensely touched, no one having put even close to that amount of effort like he was in your life.

“you don’t get to decide what i deserve yuta.”

his eyes shot in your direction “but as a friend i’m telling you—”

you huffed as you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.

you kissed him.

yuta’s eyes were blown astronomically wide as you did, his heart no longer beating as he could’ve sworn he was dead right now, not believing that you were actually kissing him.

him.

you pulled apart from his lips with a smack, your hands still on his red cheeks. “a guy who’s willing to literally change himself without me having to ask, trying to be better for me everyday without fault for literally a year, doing everything he can to make me happy? definitely deserves me yuta. you deserve me.”

you pecked his forehead softly and pulled back again, his body going numb when you did. “so what if you beat the shit out of him? i would do it too if someone was talking to you like that i don’t care. i’d lose but i’d do it,” you giggled. “i didn’t like the fight because i don’t want you getting hurt, ever, period. but you literally scrapped him up like it was nothing, so i don’t have anything to worry about.”

he shook his head and playfully rolled his eyes. “no flower that’s the thing you’re too sweet to me, i don’t want you justifying—”

“yuta be quiet!” you whispered harshly, giving him a silly grin. “you talk too much.”

you reached up and very very gently pecked the little cut on the side of his eyebrow, feeling a cool calming waterfall wash over his body at the feeling of your soft lips finally on him, something he’s wished upon every star for.

“you’re so good to me yuta, truly you are. and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say this because i’m always nervous but—” you smiled endearingly. “i do want to go out with you, and i do want to give you little kisses. all of the time.”

yuta slowly let his forehead fall against yours, feeling like he was in a dream as the only emotion he felt at the moment was bliss. pure honeyed bliss as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, his face burying in your silky hair.

his hard work had finally paid off, and he had every fucking intention of keeping up that work until the day he dies, wanting you, his shy and timid precious little flower forever in his life— you changing him for the better so much that he finally feels like he’s properly healthy, in more ways than one.

“we’re going out tomorrow,” he mumbled into your hair. “bright and early. i’m gonna take you to get breakfast, and then we’re gonna go to that aquarium you’ve been wanting to go to for weeks now, and then i’m gonna buy you a souvenir, and then i’m gonna take you to get your nails done—”

“yu!” you pulled back and giggled happily. “you don’t have to buy me anything my goodness. just you is enough.”

he bit his lip, smiling like a fucking idiot.

“really?”

“really.”

“well too fucking bad i’m gonna do it anyways.”

he pulled you back in as you laughed and buried his face back into your hair, not wanting to break away at all, feeling like the richest douchebag in the world as he finally had you as his.

you scooted your face up then and nudged him, him pulling a part in response as you proceeded to plant another sugary kiss to his lips, yours lingering as they melted into a perfect mold against his mouth, yuta’s heart absolutely soaring, your red invisible strings close together at last.

he finally had you.

finally.

and he was never letting you go.

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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[katsu28]

oscar's a grouch (or is he?)

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: to your knowledge, oscar piastri really doesn't like you. but a night out in monaco makes you realize that maybe you don't know oscar's feelings towards you quite as well as you think you do. (3.7k)

warnings: swearing, unwanted advances from a man (not oscar, don't worry), a smidge of landoscar if u squint really hard

a/n: idk about y'all but this summer break is killing me 😭 i just wanna see my boys on track again is that too much to ask. anyways here's some oscar bc he's been giving literal crumbs lately (except for casually mentioning his broken fucking rib)

You’re not even sure what you're celebrating tonight. 

All you know is Lando called you a few hours ago demanding you come to some club with him and a few of his other driver friends, and who were you to deny yourself a fun night out? Especially one where you can put all your drinks on Lando’s tab. (You’re not a gold digger—Lando refuses to let you pay for most things when you go out because he, and you quote, ‘makes a shit ton of money, so why not use it’.) 

Now you’re here, sipping the last of your third (fourth maybe?) drink of the night until there’s nothing but ice. 

The music blasting through the club is so loud you feel the bass thumping in your chest, and it only gets louder when you venture through the crowd in search of the group you came with.

Somehow you’d gotten separated, but it’s really not too hard to locate them. All you have to do is look for a very tall, very polite looking British man a head taller than everyone else, and then you’ve found George Russell.

He spots you too, beckoning you over into the VIP section with a cool nod of his head. All the other drivers are around too—Carlos winks at you over the rather brightly patterned mini umbrella in his drink, Max tips his glass at you as you make your way by. 

Charles and Oscar sit together on a sofa further into the section, seeming deep in conversation, but look up as you pass them. The Monegasque reaches up to give you a fist bump, and Oscar just blinks at you, taking a measured swig of his beer. You fight the urge to sigh at his standoffishness. 

Over the years, Lando’s friends have quickly become your friends too, but Oscar Piastri is an enigma you have yet to crack. You know he’s on the quieter side because Lando had warned you of it before you’d met Oscar for the first time, but you weren’t expecting completely and totally icy.

The Oscar that Lando always talks about excitedly is an entirely different person than the Oscar you’ve become familiar with. 

It seems like he can barely look you in the eye whenever you try to make small talk with him, and you don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him because he always finds a way to slip away before you can even try to make a genuine connection with him. 

What makes things even better (read: worse) is that despite all that, you’ve grown a small crush on Oscar. You’re not sure how, and you’re not sure why, but that doesn’t make your feelings any less real. You’ve accepted that this is just the way things will always be with him, you with a pesky crush and him not wanting anything to do with you. 

You find Lando quickly, bopping around to the beat of the song playing without a care in the world. He looks like he’s having the time of his life, and when he spots you, he positively beams, waving wildly at you. 

“Hey, you!” He exclaims. “How are you? I love you!” 

“I love you too!” You chuckle. “I was gonna get another drink, d’you want anything?” 

“What?” He yells, brows furrowing. “You’re gonna dye your hair pink?”

“Another drink, dummy! Do you want another drink?” You make sure he’s looking at you this time, over-enunciating your words, so he’ll understand them. He narrows his eyes at you in the dim lighting but gets the gist of your question, perking up at the possibility of yet another drink. 

“More vodka shots, baby! One for you, one for me! No, one for everyone!” He giggles, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

His movement is so enthusiastic he nearly tips the two of you over, stumbling on his feet clumsily. You’re quick to push him back into an upright position, grimacing with effort as you trudge over to the nearest sofa and deposit him onto the seat unceremoniously. 

“Oh, this is nice,” He sighs, stroking the leather dreamily. “I should—I should get one of these for my place. D’you think they’d let me take it home?” 

“I really don’t think so, Lan,” You reply, amused. “Stay here. Don’t leave this sofa.” 

Lando groans, tilting his head back against the cushions. “Okay, mum. God!” 

Right, so maybe he doesn’t need those extra shots after all. 

You shoot him one more stern look before leaving him behind and heading for the bar, quietly tasking Carlos with making sure Lando doesn’t do anything stupid while you’re gone. 

There’s an empty spot at the bar when you approach, and you slide in, fingers tapping on the countertop idly as you wait for the bartender to finish up other drinks. 

“Hey.” 

You glance to your left to see a man you don’t recognize, smiling at you.

“Hi.” You say back, pressing your lips into a polite smile. You’re hoping that’ll be the end of the conversation, because you’re not really in the mood to be talking to someone you don’t know when all you’re trying to do is order something. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a club like this?” His eyes rake over you from head to toe as he says it, shamelessly checking you out with a glint in his eye that makes you feel dirty. 

You take a small, calculated step backward, and much to your dismay, he takes that as an invitation to inch forward. “I’m with a group of friends.” 

“Are they all as attractive as you?” He must think he’s being smooth, but it just makes you even more uncomfortable. 

“Pretty sure they’re not your type,” You reply flatly. “Unless you’re into dudes.” 

The man’s nostrils flare, like you’re accusing him of something absurd. “I’m not. I’ve only dated girls. Really hot girls.” 

“Uh…good for you? I don’t really—” 

“What’s your name? I bet it’s something sexy.” 

“Y’know, my friends are probably wondering where I am, so I’m just gonna—” 

“What’s the rush, sweetheart? I’m just trying to get to know you,” He drawls, stroking clammy fingers over the back of your hand. You yank it away, reaching up to adjust the strap of your top just so he wasn’t touching you anymore. Maybe a little bit harsh, but the vibe you’re getting from him isn’t good at all. 

“I have a boyfriend,” You reply stiffly. It’s a boldfaced lie, but you're hoping you sound convincing enough to get this guy off your case. He’s starting to make you nervous. 

He takes an overdramatic look at your surroundings before focusing back on you, shrugging. “I don’t see one.” 

As if the universe is presenting you with a way out, you spot Oscar walking by at that very second, and before you can think you're grabbing his hand, tugging him towards you. He comes willingly, but looks slightly confused as you tuck yourself close to him.

He’s definitely not your first choice, but right now you don't think you can afford to be picky. At least it's someone you know. 

You pop up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, lips almost pressed to his cheek as you whisper, “Please play along.”

His eyes flick between you and your unwanted conversation partner, and for a moment you think he might blow your cover, but he slides an arm around you after you turn back around, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

You force yourself to ignore the effect it has on you, instead opting to press a little more into his side. His torso is firm under your trembling hands, tense if anything, but the steady rise and fall of his level breathing provides comfort. 

“We got a problem here, mate?” Oscar’s voice sounds more serious than you've ever heard it, and when you look up at him, he looks downright scary.  He towers over both you and the guy you're desperately trying to get rid of, brow furrowed, jaw set. You’re glad that look has never been aimed at you.

The guy shifts nervously on his feet, but still holds his ground. Not a good idea, anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that. “No problems, just trying to have a friendly conversation.” 

“Doesn’t look very friendly to me. Looks like you’re bothering my girlfriend.” 

“Dunno what to tell you, mate. We were just chatting, weren’t we, sweetheart?” 

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, feeling safe enough to do so tucked under Oscar’s arm like you are right now. This guy might be a fucking creep, but he’s not stupid enough to go up against Oscar. “No.” 

He glowers at you, and you feel Oscar’s palm come around, curling around your waist protectively. “Seems like that’s settled then. I reckon you should leave now.” Oscar’s tone leaves absolutely no room for discussion.

Is it wrong that you find it hot? 

“Fine. Don’t need to waste my time on bitches anyways.” 

Oscar stiffens. He moves forward like he’s about to throw a punch, but you’re quicker, splaying your palm over his very sturdy chest to stop him before he does anything rash. You don’t think it’ll go over too well with McLaren higher ups if they learn that one of their drivers got into a fight at a club. 

“He’s not worth it, Osc,” You say softly. He looks down at you, sees the look in your eyes, and his posture relaxes just a little bit. You’re not sure how long the two of you hold each other’s gaze, but when you finally tear your eyes away from his, the guy is long gone. 

Only then do you step away from Oscar, straightening yourself out as much as you can given how things could’ve ended had he not been there to save your ass. He steps away too. With the guy no longer around, there’s no reason for you to be that close together. 

“You alright?” He mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. Even in the dim lighting of the club, you can see how red his cheeks are. 

“Yeah. Fine. That guy was just really freaking me out.” 

“Are you sure? That you’re okay, I mean. ‘Cause yeah, that guy was a creep.” 

“Total creep,” You agree, bobbing your head. “But I’m sure. I’m, uh, I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that. I don’t know what I would’ve done had you not been there, so…thank you. I know it was probably a little hard for you, but thanks anyways.” 

That last part was likely not necessary, but you’re a smidge tipsy right now. You’ll blame your loose lips on the alcohol. 

Oscar’s brow pinches in the middle, head tilting in confusion. “What?” 

“Pretending to be my boyfriend. Pretending to like me.” 

“Why would that be hard for me?” 

“Uh, I dunno, maybe ‘cause you don’t.” 

“You—wait, you think I don’t like you?” Oscar looks truly befuddled at your insinuation, and you frown, because from your side of things, it’s pretty damn clear. 

“I’m not, like, upset or hurt, or anything. You have a right to dislike whoever you want, I don’t care,” You shrug, craning your neck to look for the bartender. 

“It’s not true.” 

You hum absentmindedly, not really paying attention to his words. Where was that damn bartender? You need that drink, now. Oscar’s fingers wrap around your forearm loosely, but tight enough to grab your attention again. “What?” 

“I don’t…not like you.” 

“I said I don’t care, Oscar. You don’t have to try and make me feel better. It’s fine,” You assure him. You really wish he’d stop pushing the subject. “Just drop it, yeah? Thanks for the save, you can go back to the group now.” 

He regards you blankly for a long few seconds, then he opens his mouth, and just when you think he’s about to say something, it snaps shut. Then he pivots on his heel and starts to walk away. You roll your eyes, turning back to the bar. After all this, you definitely need another drink. Preferably a strong one. 

Maybe you’ll get those shots Lando wanted after all. 

The bartender finally spots you and you sigh in relief, glad and ready to finally get what you came for, but before you can get a word out, you’re being dragged away by the hand. 

You nearly scream, your mind jumping to the worst conclusion before your gaze lands on the same broad shoulders, the same head of brown hair that had just left you not seconds ago. It’s Oscar pulling you through the crowd, and even though you’re beyond relieved, you’re also confused and a little bit pissed off. 

“What’re you—hey! Oscar!” You have to shout over the pulsing music, but either he can’t hear you or he’s choosing to ignore you, because he doesn’t stop. 

He muscles through the crowd with surprising ease with you stumbling along behind him until you’re outside the club, in some sort of private patio area. There’s no one else out here and you’re glad for it, because you have half a mind to yell at him.

Oscar drops your hand, running his fingers through his hair, and when he looks up, you detect confliction in those big brown eyes of his. It almost derails your thought process, but you scowl. 

“What is your problem?” You snap, folding your arms over your chest angrily. 

“You think I don’t like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This again? Fucking hell, I told you to forget about it, Oscar. I meant that.” 

“No, I’m not gonna—you said it, so you obviously meant it. I wanna know why,” He insists. “Why do you think I don’t like you?” 

“Maybe because you haven’t exactly given me anything else to go off of? You always brush me off when I try to talk to you, and when I do get you to have a conversation with me, you can barely look me in the eye. And I swear, it’s like you find every excuse to not be around me.” 

You can’t resist the urge to allow a slightly bitter sounding laugh escape you because, fuck, no matter how many times you tell yourself that you don’t care what Oscar thinks of you, that you don’t give a crap about how it looks like he’s only this way with you, you do care. 

You care so much it makes you want to scream into the void. You shouldn’t care, but you do. 

“So you can say that it’s not true, you can tell me I’m wrong all you want, but I’m just telling it as I see it.” 

Oscar blinks at you again in that way he always does when you talk, the way that makes you want to smack him upside the head but also kiss him senseless too, just to see if he’d react differently. 

“I’m an idiot,” He says. You press your lips together. There won’t be any denying that fact from you. 

He groans, tipping his back towards the sky. “I’m an idiot. It’s not because I don’t like you. It’s—” He pauses, sighing. Crossing his arms, uncrossing them, weighing his options. “It’s because I do like you. A lot. I like you to the point where I don’t know how to act around you without the fear I might do or say something stupid, and then you’ll think I’m a dickhead.” 

“So you thought completely icing me out was…you not being a dickhead?” 

He wrinkles his nose, like he's just realized what his actions must’ve looked like to an outside party. “Oh. That’s not what I meant to….fuck, you must think I’m such a—”

“Dickhead?” You supply helpfully. He nods, shoulders slumping. 

You’re used to long stretches of silence with Oscar, but this one feels different. Now that you know he doesn’t totally hate your guts, the silence isn’t totally unbearable. He steps closer, watching you, gauging your reaction to his movements like you’re some sort of unpredictable creature. 

If anything, Oscar’s the unpredictable one. 

“So…” You start, tilting your head. “You like me?” 

Oscar exhales sharply, nodding. “Guess it might be a bit of a shocker, but I do.”  

“And you already know I like you.” 

“I’ve noticed, yeah,” He says, lips quirking up into a small smile. “What do we do now?”

“Maybe we take things slow. Get to know each other first, ‘cause I dunno if you’ve noticed, but one of us spent a lot of time ignoring the other,” You lilt, half joking. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully, but nods his agreement nonetheless. “I think for now, we should get back inside. I’ve got to make sure Lando hasn’t tried to steal the sofa from right out the section.” 

Oscar’s nose scrunches, head cocking to the side in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it another time.” 

“How about tomorrow over dinner?” He blurts, running a hand through his hair. It flops right back into place, one stray curl hanging over his forehead that he doesn’t seem to notice as he smiles hopefully at you. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Duh.” 

His smile grows bigger, pushing up his cheeks so much it makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. You’ve never been the receiver of this smile before, and now that you are, you never want him to stop smiling at you like this. “Okay. Okay, cool. I’ll text you.” 

“Don’t you need my number for that?” 

“Oh, I’ve uh, I’ve got it already. I nabbed it from Lando’s phone a while ago. Just in case I gathered up the courage to message you. Which I didn’t, as you could probably tell,” He replied, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I wanted to though. I just—I didn’t know what to say.” 

“How’d you get into his phone?” 

He snorts this time, raising a brow at you. “His password’s 4444. Not exactly mission impossible.” 

You really need to have a talk with your friend about Internet safety one of these days. 

The aforementioned friend throws his hands up into the air when he spots you making your way back into the section as soon as you re-enter the club, bouncing over to you to wrap you in a giant hug. Lando mumbles something you can’t understand into your ear and giggles, then spots Oscar lingering behind you and positively screeches, reaching to pull him into the hug too. 

You don’t have time to get your arms out of where they’re trapped against your sides in Lando’s surprisingly vice-like grip before Oscar stumbles forward into your back at his friend’s harsh tug, cheek smushing against the top of your head. The muttered sorry he offers you does nothing to quell your rocket fast heartbeat at being this close to him for the first time.

“Look at us!” Lando hiccups, squeezing you both as tight as he can. Not an easy feat when you’re hugging two people at once. He bumps his forehead against yours gently to draw your attention back to him. (More like lightly headbutted, but you remain un-concussed so you won’t hold it against him.) “Hey, you’re in a papaya sandwich!” 

Oscar’s low chuckle vibrates through his chest and you feel it rumble through you too. You also feel his pinky curl around your own, thumb pressing against the inside of your wrist tenderly. 

It’s a subtle gesture, one that might not seem like much to anyone else, but you’ve gone from sort of acquaintances to something a little more than friends in the span of less than an hour.

Are you even friends now? You can’t even answer that. You like him and he likes you, but the only time you’ve ever spent together has been around other people. 

Still, only two points of contact—you’re not even holding hands and you think you might spontaneously combust. 

But you have to play it cool. 

The good thing about drunk Lando is that his attention span is close to zero, so he quickly grows bored of sandwiching you into a McLaren hug and wanders off again, most likely in search of another drink. You feel like it would be a good idea to stop him but you plop onto the nearest couch instead, letting your head tip against the back of it. 

To your surprise, Oscar motions for you to scooch over, slotting himself into the extra space you create. There’s a respectful distance left between yourselves, but then he leans towards you to be heard over the music.

“Your pulse was racing.” 

“Gee, I wonder why,” You muse. “Definitely not because of how I feel about you.” 

“Ha ha. You’re funny.” 

“See what you’ve been missing out on all this time?” You joke, head lolling to the side to grin at him. 

“I see it.” He’s looking at you unabashedly already, eyes drinking you in like he’s parched and you’re water. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, and god, you want to kiss him so bad right now. 

Instead you take a deep breath, fixing him to the spot with a pointed look. “Stop staring, or you’ll draw attention.” 

Oscar startles like he wasn’t aware he was staring that hard at you, mumbling out another apology before retreating back to his own bubble of space stiffly. 

You feel a tad guilty now. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but you and Oscar haven’t even begun to understand what you are to each other yet, and the last thing you want is the driver rumor mill to start spinning its wheels about your budding relationship before you even knew if there was going to be a relationship. It’s the kind of thing you want to keep under wraps until the two of you figure things out. 

Sighing lightly, you slide your hand along the empty space separating you, curling your pinky around his the same way he did earlier. Part of you expects he’ll shy away, so when he reciprocates the action, you’re pleasantly relieved. 

There’s still quite a bit of getting to know each other to be done, but you’re excited to see what this next chapter with Oscar holds.

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[nastybuckybarnes]

Date Night

Pairing: dbf!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky makes a big mistake.

Warnings: Angst, Language, yea sorry

Word Count: 1.7K

A/n: teehee whoops. im gonna have a ghost one coming out soon for you guys, and then maybe some more teddy bear picnic but we'll see

~*~

"Hey kid, wanna grab a beer and watch the game with your old man? Or are you too cool for that?"

You grin at your dad and slow your steps, glancing at the hockey game on TV.

"Where's Bucky? I thought he was your game night date? He finally realize hockey sucks?"

Your dad gives you an offended look then rolls his eyes playfully.

"Nah, he had to cancel last minute - he's got a hot date tonight."

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, unaware of the fact that those six words have flipped your night upside down and caused knots to form in your stomach.

You don't remember having plans with him tonight.

As casually as you can manage, you head into the kitchen, pulling out your phone and tapping a quick text over to the man in question.

'Not coming over tonight?'

It's read within the same minute, and then the telltale three dots pop up before his message spawns.

'Sorry baby, not feeling too hot.'

The knots in your gut are quickly crushed by the boulder that settles there, and you need to take a few careful breaths to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the kitchen.

~*~

"Everything okay, James?"

He huffs out a sigh and glances up from his phone, smiling weakly at the woman across from him.

"Listen, Dot... I can't tell you how grateful I am that you managed to make such a beautiful cake in such a short amount of time. And, while I'm flattered that you'd want to go out for dinner, I had you make that cake for a woman who means... quite a bit to me. I don't want to make things awkward but I do want you to know that I'm out with you tonight as a friend and nothing more."

The woman across from him blinks blankly a few times, then takes a sip of her martini, stands up, and leaves the table.

Bucky watches helplessly as she leaves the restaurant without another word, dropping his head back for a moment as he feels onlookers stare.

It takes a few minutes for the waitress to come back, but by the time she does, he's got a wad of cash ready for her and his keys in hand.

He all but runs out of the restaurant, a new lightness in his shoulders like a weight has been lifted from his chest.

Immediately, he grabs his phone and shoots a quick text off to your dad.

'Room for one more?'

It takes a few minutes for your dad to respond, which Bucky uses to put on his helmet and straddle his bike.

'Date not going well?'

Bucky chuckles softly.

'Something like that. I'll be there in five.'

He swipes out of the conversation with your dad and then clicks on the only pinned conversation on his phone.

'I'm feeling a bit better now, gonna pop by for a bit.'

With that, he locks his phone and brings his bike to life, eager to be in your presence again.

Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your pity party, and you frown at the text on it.

You turn your phone off and drop it face-down on the carpet, ignoring this text the way you've ignored the last three from him.

You can hear him downstairs chatting with your dad as if he's done nothing wrong. As if he wasn't out with another woman less than an hour ago.

Grinding your teeth together, you decide that enough is enough, and it's time for bed.

At the very moment you open your door to head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Bucky decides to raise his fist to knock.

Your eyes meet his and, for a moment, you forget that you're mad. You forget everything.

And then he opens his stupid mouth.

"Hey, what's with you tonight?" He asks gently, reaching forward to grab your hand.

You yank away from him and take a step back, levelling him with a steely glare.

"How was your date?"

You watch as he deflates, as his face falls and his shoulders slump forward the tiniest bit.

"Sweetheart, it's not what you think, I swear."

"Oh Jesus Christ," you murmur, pushing past him and heading downstairs to watch the game with your dad. At least down here he can't talk to you.

He can't try to justify him willingly going on a date with another woman.

Well, not until the game's over, at least. And it seems like it's only a few minutes before your dad is yawning, turning the TV off and heading upstairs to go to bed himself.

This leaves you alone in the living room with Bucky, tension building with every silent second that passes between the two of you.

"Honey, I had to," he finally whispers, breaking the silence.

You whip your head around, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

He holds his hands up, a desperate and pathetic attempt at pleading with you, begging you to hear him out.

"It was the only way for me to get your birthday cake. Dot is an old friend from high school and... she wanted a date as payment for the last-minute cake," he explains quietly.

You purse your lips, nodding as if it all makes sense now.

"Oh, I see! So, not only do you admit to forgetting my birthday, but you also agreed to go on a date with a woman who has had a thing for you since high school! Buck, that is so not okay on so many different levels!" You exclaim in a whisper.

The last thing you need is your dad overhearing any part of this conversation.

"I know. That's why I left. I told her I couldn't, that the cake was for someone important to me and that I was only having dinner with her as a friend."

You shake your head at him and rise to your feet, unable to stay still while he spews nothing but nonsense at you and expects you to forgive him.

"You shouldn't have even gotten me that cake if that's what she wanted as payment! You should've told her to stick it and then you literally could've gotten me a Starbucks cake pop. I don't need fancy cakes or expensive things, James, I thought you knew that." Your voice gradually loses its anger, disappointment and exhaustion taking its place.

"I know but... I wanted to do something special for you." He looks like a kicked puppy, and it takes a serious amount of self-control to hold on to your anger.

"My birthday was special. Even without the cake it still would've been special. Especially if I'd've known it would mean that you would be going on a date with another woman in order to get it."

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he pleads, reaching for you again only for you to shake your head and step away.

"No, Bucky. Sorry doesn't fix this. Can you imagine if the roles were reversed? What if I had to go on a date with a guy who's been wanting me for over a decade just for the perfect steak? And then, what if I lied to you about it and you found out from my dad that I was out on a 'hot date'? A date with someone that the general public would deem more appropriate for me to be with? Someone who would fit me better. How would that make you feel?"

He stands there silently for a moment, fists clenched tightly as he imagines everything you just said.

He imagines you laughing on a date with another man, a young man, a man far more appropriate for you to be with. He imagines sitting waiting for you, only to find out that you're out getting hit on by some young punk who wouldn't know how to please a woman like you. His imagination runs wild, to the point where he can almost feel steam billowing from his ears, but all he says is

"Shitty."

"Shitty?" You laugh, "Try worthless. Embarrassed. Humiliated. At least that's how I felt. And-and maybe I'm just reading too deep into this. Maybe this 'exclusivity' that I thought we had is one-sided."

"It's not," he interrupts quickly, taking a step forward only to pause when you step back again.

"Maybe I just thought things were more serious than they were," you continue, eyes stuck on the ground as your thoughts spill out before your mind has a moment to realize what you're saying.

"They are serious-"

"Maybe we should just stop... whatever this is that we're doing."

Silence hangs heavily in the air when you finish speaking, and you feel tears sting at your eyes when he says nothing.

You count thirteen heartbeats before he finally says something.

"Is that what you really want?" He asks softly, his voice discouraged.

Slowly, you raise your eyes to his.

"What even are we?" You ask breathlessly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. "What are we doing?"

"You're my girl."

You sniffle and shake your head.

"No, I'm your dirty little secret, that's what I am. And I'm tired of it. I wanna be something you're proud of, not something you have to hide," you whisper, your chest aching with the weight of your confession.

Bucky's heart breaks at your words, and he wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and kiss away any insecurities you have in your relationship. If you can even call it that.

"I am proud of you, sweetheart, beyond proud. I can't even put into words how I feel about you," he whispers, desperate for you to understand just how much you mean to him.

"Why haven't you told my dad about us yet?"

The silence that follows your question is answer enough for you, and you nod.

"I... I think you should leave," you finally whisper, hugging yourself and keeping your gaze locked on the ground.

He stays rooted in place for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting for you to break. When you don't, he takes slow steps toward the door, waiting, praying for you to change your mind.

But you stand firm.

Never able to deny you, he leaves you standing alone in your kitchen, your dad peacefully asleep upstairs while your entire life gets turned upside down.

[sweetiecakesss]

Perversions | Inumaki Toge (18+)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ Synopsis: Just as you thought he was you're innocent friend, he accidentally dropped a bomb that would change everything. Turning him into someone full of lust and hunger for you.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Tags: Inumaki, Modern! AU, Fingering, Over Stimulation, Manipulation, Pussy Eating, Perverted Inumaki, Pussyjob, Tit Sucking, Unprotected Sex (Wrap it before ya tap it!)

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Note: I know I created a poll as to who to write for this trope but fucking hell! I wanna write Perverted Ijichi so bad! Nobody will read it but imma still write it soon cause gyat damn! That man is attractive and sexy in all the right places!

It was creepy…

That's what you thought everytime you would notice you lost a few undergarments whenever you were goong to wash your dirty laundry. What's more bothersome is how all the missing undergarments were…

Expensicve and…

Used. Unwashed.

Bothered by all of this, you brought it up to your childhood friend Inumaki. Inviting him over to your place, in the guise of wanting him to keep you company for the night due to the fear of actually having a stalker. "You don't understand, 'maki…It's creepy…" You let out as you voiced your concerns to him, urging him to listen to you attentively as he drank the can of beer you offered him.

"Did you change your locks?" He asked. Looking at him you nodded.

"I did! After that…the only people I would invite is you and the others and maybe a few one night stands from the bar…" You explained, sharp purple eyes looking back at you as he took a sip of his drink with his hands resting on the inside of the pockets of his jacket. Listening to your rants.

You're so fucking gullible. He thought.

Gullible was a softer word to what you were, more like downright stupid for not even noticing it was him who stole all your used underwear, Stupid of you to not notice how they would only dissapear whenever he came over but he can't blame you entirely…He was just lucky you would invite other people over right after him, clearing his tracks perfectly.

As he continued to listen to you, he can't help but subtly smile to himself as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over the white smear of dried cum on your panties that he just stole earlier when you were in the bathroom.

Imagining how your pussy would feel, how wet would you be as he rubbed his fingers over your clit. Would you moan his name? whimper for him? ask for him to use like how he would thrust his cock in his hand with your panties wrapped around the tip of his cock? Just the thought of it alone made him hard.

"Hey.." He called out to you as he walked forward and placed the can of beer on top of the countertop. Looking at him, you raised your brow.

"Gotta go and take a shit, I'll be back." He let out an excuse to which you looked at him with a bothered look.

"Didn't have to know that but sure…" You responded to which Inumaki turned around to head to the bathroom.

But as he took a step, removing his hand from pocket of his jacket…It fell to the ground. Your eyes widening as you saw your red laced underwear, looking up you saw that Inumaki was already staring at you.

"That's…" You started as he bended down and grabbed your panties from the ground before stuffing them in his pockets again, as he then took heavy steps and walked towards you. His height looming over you, making you keep your gaze down to his feet as you avoided looking up at him and noticing a bulge in his pants.

He then gently reached for your hand as he placed the palm of your hand over his throbbing boner. As he felt your hand over his clothed cock, Inumaki can't help but let out a whimper as he leaned forward and placed his forhead on your shoulder, guiding your hand up and down, getting off of your touch.

"Y/N…" He whimpered your name. "Am sorry--nghh-- You'll forgive me right?…" He added as he leaned forward to kiss you on your cheek, you knew what he was doing. He was distracting you but god was it working, You liked the man from since both of you hit your puberty.

You were standing there, frozend and confused. Cheeks covered in pink color as Inumaki continued to rub himself off of the palm of your hand. You're supposed to be mad at him, Look at him in disgust but fuck-- He was making you hot and bothered. Making your pussy clench around nothing as he filled your ears with his erotic sounds, begging you to strip him naked, forgive him for being a huge pervert and mumbling your name over and over again as if you were a fucking god.

"Inumaki…" You called out to him softly. Inumaki slowly lifted his head as he met your gaze, trying his best to give you puppy eyes while his hips continued to move against you.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you pulled your hand away from him causing him to let out a needy whimper. Tears filling the corner of his eyes as his neck and up his face grew in a shade of red, embarassed to how much he just wanted to fuck you senseless.

"Please, Y/N…Am sorry. I really didn't want to, I just needed you so much--" Before Inumaki could even continue his babbles of apologies, you pulled him in for a kiss. Eliciting a moan from as his hands instantly held onto your chest, moving his hand in a circular motion, pushing his body against you and only stopping as soon as you hit the edge of the kitchen countertop.

"'ve been wanting to fuck you so bad…" Inumaki let out in between the kiss before pulling away from and kneeling down, pressing his mouth against your crotch and licking over your clothed cunt. Feeling his tongue, you instinctively gripped onto Inumaki's hair as you threw your head back.

His eyes looking up as he basked in the expressions you were making. Calloused hands moved and gripped onto your hip before Inumaki then grabbed the band of your leggings, pulling onto it and tearing it in half. Leaving you in your black underwear; making you yelp and looking down at Inumaki with wide eyes.

"What the fuck, Inumaki!" You let out at him, Purple eyes meeting yours as he looked at you.

"I'll buy you a new one, I promise…" He let out while pulling your panties aside and lifting one of your leg before placing it over his shoulder as he then leaned forward, sticking his tongue out as he licked over your clit before giving it a soft kiss. A moan escaped your mouth as you lifted your hips a bit and giving him access to more of your pussy, giving him the best view his life could ever ask for.

"Pussy, taste so fucking good…" He praised in between slurps, his fingers prodding at the entrance of your pussy before pushing it in and out of you; making you throw your head back and moving your hips in a circular motion as you helped yourself fuck your pussy on his fingers, all while moaning his name.

Giving your clit one last kiss, Inumaki stood up as he quickly removed his pants. Letting it fall down to his ankles as he caged you against the countertop with his arms on your sides, the tip of his cock; rubbing against your pussy and coating it with your slick.

Inumaki made sure to look at you as he moved his hips back and forth, giving himself a pussyjob. His breathing were rapid and shaky as he whimpered, the sounds of your moans and his filling your apartment as his hand reached to grab you by your chin and making you look at him and only him. Purple orbs meeting your perfectly E/C eyes.

"Baby, please…." Kiss. "Need to fuck this pussy so bad" Kiss. "It hurts…Need to feel you to cum…" He cried before letting go of your chin and lifting your shirt along with your bra before dropping his head down to your chest, giving it kisses before groping one of your tits and sucking on the little nub; letting go of it with a pop as he wrapped his arms around your waist, continuing to thrust his hips and rub his cock against your pussy.

You could feel and hear Inumaki's desperation as he cried in pleasure, tears staining your chest as you then ran a hand down his back before holding onto the cheeks of his ass and pushing his hips further to you, making him let out a moan of pleasure.

"Go ahead, maki…fuck me, please…" You let out breathily against his ear.

Wasting no time, Inumaki pulled away from you as he babbles non-stop thank you's before lifting your body up by holding onto your thighs before pushing the entirety of his cock in you with pure desperation.

"Oh fuck…!" You let out in a pleasurable scream as you felt all of him in you, nails digging onto the skin of his back as he let out a whimper. His thrusts starting slow as he gave you small kisses all over your upper body before his lips finally reached the under of your chin.

"So warm…" Thrust. "And so fucking good to me…" Inumaki groaned, his hips snapping against you as he started to move in a fast pace. Taken aback by his sudden pace, your eyes were wide as you pushed and hit Inumaki by his chest with your head thrown back.

"W-wait!" You choked out in between moans as you tried to break yourself free from Inumaki, his cock; bullying yoru cervix and reaching every part inside your pussy.

"Yeah--nggh-- Taking my cock so good…" He let out in a groan. "Treating me so well and forgiving me…" Nothing but the sound of sex filling the room as he fucked into you senseless.

Feeling a familiar knot in your stomach, you gathered your strength and looked at Inumaki.

"Inumaki!…Wait-- Ah fuck!-- Wait…" You muttered, your hand reaching for his hair as you pulled on it. Hoping he would stop a bit, to which he didn't as he continued to burry his cock in you.

"Sorry…Sorry, I can't-- Just wanna feel you…" He babbled.

"Inumaki, puhleasee--Something's coming out..!" You screamed against the back of your hand as your body then shivered under him, legs shaking as you sprayed all over Inumaki's stomach, causing him to stop and look at you.

Inumaki just gave you a quick smile before leaning down and giving you a kiss as he then coated your walls white. Seeing you squirt all over him was the cherry on top, his lower body drenched in nothing but both your juices.

Pulling out of you, Inumaki gave you a smile as he catched his breath before pushing two fingers inside your cunt, making you whimper.

"S-stop…" You let out in between whimpers as you grabbed onto his wrist. Opening your eyes, you looked at Inumaki.

You felt your body shiver as you saw the dark and drunken look on his face, his fingers moving in and out of you in a slow motion; causing you to let out another moan.

"Let's do that again…" He let out.

[tojipie]

Omg please please please write another fic about needy cry baby gf and Toji 😫🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

thinking abt him not realizing when he’s being mean because he grew up in a house full of boys where insults were a form of affection :( we’ve all got a little bit of crybaby reader in us me finks

content: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

────────────────────────

a sea of limbs dance and weave around the court with intricacies you won’t even pretend to understand, leaving you more confused with each passing minute.

you remind yourself that you’re here for toji, wanting to spend more time with him regardless of whether you were into the activity.

toji liked it, so you liked it. at least before the game got confusing.

“that was two points, right?” you ask him, trying to make sense of the shot a player had just made.

toji pauses, holding the chilled end of his beer can to the back of his neck.

“three, baby.” he corrects, kicking his work boots off. the older man relaxes into the soft embrace of the couch with a groan, propping his feet up on the ottoman.

“right… right.” you realize, listening as the announcer gives a rundown of what just happened. you look over and gauge his expression, searching for any acknowledgment of what you’d just said.

“sorry, not really a basketball fan.” you joke, hoping to alleviate the awkward air.

“not that smart either, huh?” toji chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.

your stomach drops at the comment. blood rushes to your ears as humiliation takes over, eyes welling up with hot tears.

you knew he was 100% joking. that’s just how toji was around the people he loved.

you were being too sensitive, right?

the two of you had discussed instances like this before, the older man explaining that that was truly just how he spoke to people.

he never meant to upset you, in fact he’d rather hang than ever hurt you on purpose. his words, not yours.

toji has promised you he was working on it, trying to choose his words more carefully around you.

that’s all it was, you tell yourself. a simple slip of the tongue.

or was he truly mad at you this time?

nope. just a joke. you tell yourself, fiddling with a loose thread in your sleeve to distract from the lump in your throat. you try to inhale around the blockage, accidentally releasing a sob that alerts toji right away.

“hey.” he mumbles, setting his drink down to look at you. calloused hands cradle your face as the older man takes a close look at you.

you pull away, trying to compose yourself. just a joke! you remind yourself.

a joke, not serious. just. a. joke.

“nonono, hey it’s okay.” he whispers, eyes blowing wide as he realizes the gravity of the situation.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i’m sorry.” he pleads, muting the tv to focus on you.

“m’ not stupid.” you whimper, wiping each eye with the back of your hand.

“course not pretty girl.” he whispers, rubbing your back in soft circles. “i’m sorry, you know that’s j—“

“just how you talk.” you mumble, not sure if his explanation actually made it ok.

“but.” he starts, pulling you into his lap with a grunt.

“that’s not an excuse, right?” he asks you, clearly remorseful.

“need to watch my mouth around my girl, huh?” he chuckles, still rubbing small circles up and down your back.

“it’s ok.” you conclude, resting your head on his shoulder as he presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

“hate making you upset.” he tells you firmly, nuzzling into the crown of your head.

“you wanna watch something else?” he asks, placing the remote in your hand. “movie, youtube?”

you crawl out of the older man’s lap and onto the couch, pulling up prime to scan the comedy section.

“i fucking hate basketball.” you giggle, the man beside you breaking out in full blown laughter as you press play on the remote.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chasing Smoke || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: canon fic based off season 2 ep 4 where Rafe and Barry visit John B's house while they were all hiding

Warnings: gun use, swearing, drinking, if theres anything else lmk

Word count: 1,423

A/n: boy do i love writing canon fics hehehehe. I’m also compiling a bunch of fics in my queue because I’m going to be busy w school so pls put in your requests!!!!!

MASTERLIST

divider by @yoonitos

You were sipping on your fruity drink as you conversed in conversations with a few of your girlfriends, Rafe standing just a few feet away animatedly chatting with his friends. “Bro, the kick on a Glock 17, man. You load it up, line it up, and it's like—" he mimed the motion enthusiastically. Before you could warn Rafe about the guy sitting close behind him, he had already backed into him. "It knocks you off your freakin' feet."

"Hey, excuse me," the guy interjected, his expression one of clear annoyance. "Yeah?" Rafe responded, completely unfazed. "Do you mind?" The man stared at Rafe in disbelief. "I'm so sor—" you began, trying to smooth things over, but Rafe cut you off. "Hey, hey, don't apologize. Let me handle it, yeah?"

Rafe turned his head around, leaning casually on the counter. "I'm sorry?" he asked with a hint of sarcasm. The man raised an eyebrow, his irritation clear. "I said, do you mind?" he repeated, his voice growing sharper.

Rafe took a moment before replying, "Yeah, I do mind, Bob." He smirked as the man scoffed in disbelief. "Take a shot with me, pussy," Rafe challenged, his voice dripping with mockery. You slapped his shoulder, "stop it," you hissed at him.

"Come on. Take a shot," Rafe continued, his voice steady as he poured his drink onto the man's hand. The man shot up from his seat, shoving Rafe hard. "Hey! What the hell are you doing?" he yelled, his voice loud enough to draw the attention of everyone around. Your eyes widened in alarm as heads turned.

In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Kelce rushing towards you, his expression frantic and urgent. His footsteps echoed in the dimly lit bar as he approached, weaving through the tables and chairs.

"Take a seat. That's what you need to do," Rafe commanded firmly, his voice cutting through the tension as he pushed Bob back into his seat. The atmosphere was full of unease, the murmurs of other patrons now audible as they glanced over at the commotion.

“Whoa! Whoa!" Kelce interjected, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab Rafe's shoulders, attempting to calm him down. You exhaled a breath you didn't realise you were holding, grateful for Kelce's intervention. "Go get the manager. He's crazy!" Bob's voice rose above the murmurs.

"Eat shit," Rafe retorted sharply, his frustration palpable as he resisted Kelce's efforts to pull him away from the conflict. Kelce persisted, trying to redirect Rafe's attention. "Hey," he began, his tone soothing yet urgent. "What?" Rafe snapped, his gaze still locked on Bob with a mixture of defiance and irritation.

"Calm down, all right?" Kelce urged, his voice steadier now, trying to reason with his friend. Rafe rolled his eyes in exasperation, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease slightly. "I swear to God, 20 minutes ago, I just saw John B and your sister, bro."

Your eyes widened in disbelief, your lips parting as your mind struggles to process Kelce's words. "You're joking, right?" you managed to utter, searching Kelce's face. "I'm not kidding! They're alive," Kelce insisted.

Rafe and you exchanged a stunned glance. "Me and my girl are just tryin' to relax, and you're telling me this bullshit?" Rafe responded, disbelief and annoyance laced in his tone.

"I know you're trying to relax, bro, but I saw them buying beer at Geechie's!" Kelce pressed on. "That's bullshit," you interjected, not believing him. "Do you guys wanna go see for yourselves?" Kelce challenged, his eyes darting between you and Rafe. "I'm telling you, I saw them. Go sober up, man." Without waiting for a response, Kelce dragged both of you towards the exit. "Hey, put it on Cameron!" Rafe called out.

~

"I need to know who's over here at John B's spot," Barry's voice cuts through the tension in the car, his grip on the gun drawing your annoyance. "Barry, could you please not hold the gun like that? Seriously, I don't even know why I'm here!" you groan from the backseat, frustration evident in your voice.

Rafe turns around from the passenger seat, fixing you with a stern look. "You're here because I told you to be, alright? So just be quiet," he grumbles, turning back to Barry.

"Listen, I don't know if he's there, okay? I just know he's on the island," Rafe says, trying to reason with Barry. "That's a complete lack of discipline, man," Barry shakes his head, irritation coloring his tone.

"Then what's your suggestion? We're about two minutes from the fuckin’ place, alright?" Rafe snaps back. "We do some recon," Barry suggests firmly. "Why don't you just follow my lead for once and shut up? all right?" he adds, frustration clear in his eyes as he looks at Rafe.

"Recon, huh?" Rafe mutters under his breath, clearly not thrilled with Barry's suggestion. "This is ridiculous," you interject from the backseat. "Yeah, Princess here agrees. Why'd you bring your girl out here with us, Rafe?" Barry questions, prompting an eye-roll from Rafe. "She's here because I told her to be, alright? Just shut up and drive," Rafe retorts, his tone edged with impatience.

~

"Tranquillo. You feel me?" Barry says to Rafe as he pulls up just a few meters from John B's house. "Tranquillo?" Rafe repeats skeptically, his gaze fixed on the house ahead. "Tranquillo, baby," Barry reassures him as you roll your eyes at the two.

"Let's be smart," Barry advises as you all exit the car. "Rafe, just to be clear, the gun is just for show, right? You're not planning on shooting anyone," you whisper urgently to Rafe as he hums in affirmation, as you exchange a look with Barry.

You follow closely behind the two men, your senses heightened as you scan the surroundings. "Okay, check it," Rafe whispers as the three of you huddle behind some bins. "All right, I ain't see shit, what 'bout you?" Barry asks quietly.

"Nothing," you add nervously, your eyes darting around anxiously. "No. They can't be far though," Rafe whispers, his voice tense with anticipation. "Right, here's what we gon' do," Barry begins, and you lean in closer to hear him clearly. "I'm gonna go inside. I'm gonna flush them out if they're in there. I want you to flank left, meet me out there by the porch."

"And princess, well, you're gonna be with Rafe, aight'? Make sure he ain't gonna do something he'll go cry about later on to us," Barry instructs, loading his gun that you were unaware he was carrying. "You have a gun too?" you whisper sharply at him as Rafe quickly covers your mouth with his hand. "'Course I do. Now, let's go!" Barry commands, rising from the cover, and Rafe pulls you along with him.

You and Rafe step cautiously into the front yard, your hand gripping his arm for reassurance. You point silently to the recently extinguished fire pit, sharing a worried glance with him. Rafe clicks his tongue in frustration, muttering under his breath, "Where the hell are you?"

~

You flinch instinctively at the sharp sound of glass shattering nearby, turning with Rafe to see Barry angrily tossing aside a few bottles. "Yo!" Rafe calls out, his voice tense with frustration as Barry storms out of the house, slamming the door open. "Anything?" Rafe asks urgently.

Barry scoffs, his expression darkening. "No, ain't shit in there, bro," he replies curtly, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. Rafe closes his eyes briefly, disappointment evident on his face. "No? Nothing?" he presses, hoping for a different answer.

"No, nothing, Rafe," Barry responds firmly. "They were obviously just here though, judging by the smoke," Rafe points out, scanning the surroundings. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Great observation, boy scout!" Barry retorts mockingly, earning an eye-roll from you as you observe the banter between the two boys.

"They can't be far, you know?" Rafe continues, his voice tinged with determination. "Smokey the bear! Look at you, bro!" Barry laughs with sarcasm. "They gotta be around here somewhere," Rafe reassures himself, running a hand through his hair in frustration, while you sigh and settle onto a nearby log.

As the tension mounts, Rafe falls silent, his gaze shifting towards a massive tree nearby. Both you and Barry follow his gaze, noticing the initials carved into the bark. "P4L," Barry reads aloud with a chuckle, and Rafe joins in, shaking his head in disbelief. He makes eye contact with you as you stand up from your spot.

"So your sister's a pogue for life, huh, Rafe? Who would've thought?" you mutter under your breath, a hint of irony in your tone, prompting a laugh from Barry. Rafe remains quiet for a few seconds, shaking his head in frustration. You immediately regret your remark as his anger visibly simmers.

"Shit!" Rafe suddenly erupts in anger, causing you to flinch back instinctively. Barry moves swiftly to place a hand on your back, his expression shifting to concern. "Rafe, chill, man," he urges calmly, sensing Rafe's escalating temper. You gulp nervously, knowing Rafe was beyond furious right now.

Without warning, Rafe starts shooting his gun wildly at the tree, bullets whizzing dangerously close to you. The loud bangs echo in the quiet surroundings, and you instinctively cover your ears, fear gripping you. "Hey! Whoa! Hey, chill, bro! Rafe!" Barry intervenes, grabbing Rafe's shoulders in an attempt to restrain him.

Your hands tremble as you yank the gun out of Rafe's grip, your voice shaking with anger and fear. "What the fuck, Rafe! You're going to get us caught, you idiot!" you yell at him, adrenaline coursing through you.

Barry looks around anxiously, realizing the precariousness of the situation. "Let's bounce, let's bounce. Let's go!" he urges urgently, starting to move away quickly. You follow suit, grabbing Rafe's arm firmly. "Hurry up!" you plead, snapping him out of his daze, and together you rush back to the car.

[princessbrunette]

Baby daddy rafe being hit on everyone at the country club and reader not being able to do anything cuz they’re not together<//33

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

you don’t even know why you come to this stupid place anymore.

you supposed it was to keep up appearances. you didn’t wanna be that girl that turned twenty, got pregnant and then disappeared off the radar. why should you have to live in shame of being a young parent if rafe cameron didn’t? you refused, hence why you were taking a quiet afternoon off, sitting with a glass of wine at the country club enjoying the sunshine before you’d have to return to motherhood.

you didn’t expect him to be there at the same time you were. you try it to be cool about it, because you knew you were not with him — but seeing him surrounded by a group of girls batting their lashes and twirling their hair up at him made you feel… icky. you were protective, you supposed. sure, you weren’t together but that was the father of your child. the wine gave you that little confidence boost, so you decide to go and intervene, make something up.

flattening out your sundress you totter over, briefly losing that confidence for a moment as you stand to the side, waiting for your turn to be noticed like the rest of them. when he does, he cuts the flirtatious laughter short to politely shoo them away, wandering over to you.

“hi.” you state bashfully, embarrassed that you have to take up any of his time as if he didn’t put a whole baby in your stomach.

“hey, uh… how’s my girl?” he asks, and for a brief hopeful moment you think he’s talking about you. your chest warms anyway.

“she’s good. sarah is babysitting right now.” you explain softly, finding it hard to hold the eye contact. your eyes drift over to the girls he was speaking to instead, noticing their jealous glares. rafe hums, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“‘long as she’s not letting my baby around those pogues.” he comments, displeased and your heart sinks a little. you hate when he’s disappointed. maybe your hormones were still all out of whack. “was there… something you needed from me?”

you blink up at him dumbly, conjuring up an excuse. “w— uh… i was wondering… when you wanted to see her?” you fiddle with your hands, body heating up at how ill prepared you were for this conversation. he blinks, shifting on his feet.

“do i not…come and see her every weekend? i dont…” he frowns, genuinely confused. your eyes widen as you nod.

“yeah, no — of course i was just… wondering if you wanted to see her during the week too or anything? if you maybe wanted to…come over just for a little while?” you shrug, trying to make it as casual as possible. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to read you before looking around.

“you— you know i’m a very busy man now and —” he starts but you cut him off, already too hurt to let him continue.

“yeah! no it’s okay i totally get it rafe. i don’t wanna impede, you’re already doing a lot and i don’t wanna ask too m—” you go to ramble politely, humiliated at the speed in which the fat tears spring to your eyes.

“hey— let me finish, alright?” he places two hands on your shoulders and you immediately shut up, blinking up at him tearfully. “what i was going to say, okay — is — is that i’m a busy man now, but… you say the word and… i’ll drop everything, yeah? whats the problem have — have you been struggling with… with the baby or, what?” he looks concerned. maybe it was fatherhood that was changing him but you could tell he genuinely gave a shit. no he wasn’t fully rid of his boyish troublesome ways but there had definitely been a shift and that was enough to relieve you. he watches the stress physically melt from your body, brow relaxing as you sigh.

“not a…problem, rafe really it’s okay i just… it can be a little lonely… and i suppose i just want her to see her parents interacting, show her that we’re okay with eachother you know? give her some healthy ideals.” you explain, but really he stopped listening after the word lonely.

“i—i didn’t know you were lonely like that, you know i… i wouldn’t let that happen… okay? i’ll come over. we’ll hang out… yeah?” one hand that was resting on your shoulder comes up to cup your cheek in emphasis and you so badly want to nuzzle into it, let him take the weight of your head. instead you just stare up with doe eyes.

“yeah.” it comes out as a whisper and he licks his lips, nodding in approval.

“alright then.”

you glance over to the glaring girls and your gaze darts downwards. “uh, i think i’m upsetting your girlfriends.” you chuckle awkwardly, going to step back. he glances over his shoulder, letting go over you before shrugging a shoulder carelessly.

“more like… god damn fan girls. those bit— uh, women won’t leave me alone.” he corrects himself, making a clear effort. “gonna go and find topper now, okay? you gonna be fine?” he takes a step back and you want him to stay but you nod anyway.

“see you, rafe.”

you have a warm feeling in your stomach when you leave the country club. you weren’t together, and only a few weeks ago you were telling people how glad you were that this was the case. but now things were different. his favouritism should have been clear due to the fact he’d knocked you up, and maybe it was pity, if that was something rafe was even capable of — but you didn’t care. rafe liked you the most.

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

kisses prompt #7 and #19 with patrick zweig or art donaldson 🧎🏽‍♀️

Warnings: Virgin Reader; sexual implications; smooches; fluff; no physical Reader descriptions; no Y/N

Prompts: French kisses where they trace every tooth with their tongues as though trying to memorize them & One person stopping a kiss to ask “Do you want to do this?”, only to have the other person answer with a deeper, more passionate kiss.

"It's not a big deal."

That's what he tells you when you admit it to him—when you half-mumble the truth before raising your drink to your lips, like you can pull what you just said back in and swallow it. But Patrick doesn't so much as blink.

"Everyone's technically got a 'first time', eventually, whether you use it or not, you know?"

He shrugs, waves it off, and to him...It seems to really not matter.

Until he leans in with a grin, offers: "You ever wanna lose it, you have my number."

You figure you're out of your mind when you text him—but you're feeling lonely, and unwanted, and horny in a way that you know won't be solved by your fingers or fantasies or toys. You wince as you send the text, your stomach twisting in knots as you see three bubbles pop up from his side of the conversation. He's gonna let you down easy, right? Or is he going to make fun of you mercilessly, oh god—

But your phone buzzes, and your heart stops at the sight of his reply:

be there in ten

--

He doesn't let you stew in the awkwardness. He doesn't tease or ask where you're gonna do this. You can feel him watching you as you open beers for the two of you, as you studiously avoid his gaze when you pass one to him. You lightly toast, and you wait for a joke—to popping your cherry—something like that, but Patrick is quiet. It's disconcerting. You're used to the talkative, teasing Patrick. Quiet, speculative, curious Patrick is making your nervous.

You each make it through a sip before Patrick is taking the bottle out of your hand and setting it aside, along with his. You find yourself looking around the kitchen for a conversation starter—there has to be something that you read in the news this morning that the two of you can talk about, or some meme or movie or something to make him forget why you asked him over there in the first place.

But he sweeps in before you can second-guess yourself. His hands are chilly from the beers, and you shiver as he cups your face, his thumbs sweeping across the apples of your cheeks as he tilts your head. His lips are so warm against yours, and your eyes slip closed as he crowds you against the kitchen counter.

It feels too easy. Patrick's movements are so sure and confident—dominant without being overbearing or demanding. He swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips, and you feel him smile as you part them with a gentle, nervous moan. Before you can let your embarrassment win you over, Patrick's tongue dips in, sweeping across your mouth. Your hands lift to tangle in his dark curls, drawing him closer as he presses you tightly against the kitchen counter.

You can't remember the last time you've been kissed so thoroughly. It seems like Patrick never needs to come up for air. His hands sneak beneath your shirt, palming warmly at your sides and back as his tongue traces your teeth, as if he can catalogue them. He draws away with a groan and you haul in a gasp as his head dips, lapping and sucking along your jaw.

"Patrick?"

"Mm?"

"Bed—Now."

--

You don't expect him to slow down, is the thing. You don't feel rushed, but you don't find yourself second-guessing yourself, either. You don't have the chance—you're so wrapped up in Patrick's touch and kiss that when he does slow, the panic seeps in.

"Hey," He murmurs against your lips. "Hey."

"What?"

Patrick leans back to get a better look at you, and your stomach twists with nerves. Oh, god, what are you doing straddling this man's lap? You're barely clothed, and warm with want. You can feel his cock twitching in his boxers.

"What?" You repeat, palms growing clammy against his muscled shoulders.

"Do you want to do this?"

"Are you trying to make me beg?"

He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe next time."

"Patrick."

"Tell me what you want." He chases your gaze as you look away, adding, "We can stop any time you want. You're allowed to change your mind."

"I know."

"So?" He leans up, nosing your jaw so tenderly that you draw in a soft, stunned breath. You look at him from beneath your lashes for a moment, considering. You don't know if you can say it right now, not like that. You raise a hand to his face nervously.

You trace your finger over his forehead, down over the slope of his nose, and down to his lips as he smiles. You trail your nail along his lower lip, dipping your head as he opens his mouth for you. You trace your tongue over his teeth, lapping along his tongue as you guide him to lay down on the mattress. He groans, sliding his hand over your hips and guiding you to grind against him as he sinks into your pillows.

You draw back with a slick suck, nudging his nose tenderly with yours.

"I want you to fuck me, Patrick."

He grins, sliding his hands down to your ass and giving it a squeeze.

"With pleasure."

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 

“You’re quiet.” 

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

“I like watching you clean.” 

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.” 

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 

“Can I give you a tattoo?” 

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[lulunothulu]

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Robert “Bob” Floyd x Latina Reader

Summary: Bob doesn’t drink but when he does, he turns into Hangman 2.0

Content: flirty Bob, 18+ some touching, kissing

For the sake of this fic, you’re a beautiful Latina baddie also bc I’m selfish and wanna see more Latina rep. in fics lol

Hard deck was unusually louder than any other Friday night. There were ten times more people here because of Labor Day weekend and Bob didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Baby On Board!” Jake shouts over the noise. “Why don’t you drink and mingle? Maybe finding a girl to fuck will do something good for you.”

Bob could smell the alcohol on Jake’s breath and he pinched his lips together.

I guess one night of drinking wouldn’t hurt.

Bob didn’t drink often. He wasn’t really a fan of the taste of beer, he preferred something fruity but drinking that in front of Jake would’ve definitely riled him up.

So instead, Bob took the beer Jake handed him and began to sip on it. Next thing he knew he was five beers in and smiling like an idiot at Natasha.

“What’re you smiling at?” She asks, a smile on her face.

“I think I wanna go mingle,” he slurs, looking around the room at all the beautiful women.

He stops when his eyes fall on her. She’s sitting in the back corner of the bar, laughing at something her friends say before her own eyes meet his.

He was in shock. She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Big brown eyes so dark they were almost onyx, head full of unruly dark chocolate curls that fell down her back…and that smile. God that smile could’ve made a man melt right then and there.

“I’m talking to her,” Bob says as he begins to walk toward the beautiful girl he just laid eyes on.

~*~*~*~

You were sitting on a stool, sipping on the last of your beer as your friends talked about the aviators to your left.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend Kate slurs. “There’s a cute guy coming your way.”

You turn to your right to see a man in the khaki uniform Aviators in the Navy wear. His eyes are dark blue, basically navy. On his thin lips, a sloppy smile appears when you finally make eye contact with him.

“He’s cute,” you tell them.

“And he’s coming,” Kate laughs.

“Hi,” the man says, a hand placed on the table next to you. “I’m Bob.”

He’s even more handsome up close. His glasses are pushed down the bridge of his nose, so you reach up and lightly push them back up.

“Hi, Bob,” you respond. “I’m Y/N.”

“I saw you over there,” he starts, pointing to where his buddies watch. “And thought you were the most gorgeous woman in this bar.”

You blush and smile. “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.”

He blushes at your remark but leans in and whispers, “Wanna dance?”

~*~*~*~

A dance turned into two dances, and then those two dances turned into three dances, including your ass pressed up against his already hard dick—which then turned into you pulling Bob into a dark hallway.

His large hands desperately grasped at your hips, sliding up your body and tangling at your scalp. His lips expertly searching and hungrily chasing after yours to deepen the kiss.

To him, you were soft in so many ways. From your soft lips to the smoothness of your skin, Bob wanted to stay here. Hell, he’d live in this dark hallway if he could.

His hands rake down your sides again, they stay at the waistband of your jeans.

“Can I?” He asks, playing with the button.

“Please do.”

His fingers move quickly as they unbutton and unzip your jeans before his right hand slides down the front of your pants. They move between the slickness between your folds and you moan in agonizing want.

“You’re so wet already,” he groans.

His fingers move in a circular motion over your clit, pleasure ringing and erupting all over your body.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” he whispers in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me with your fingers,” you whisper back, surprising yourself in the process.

He smiles against you, snaking two fingers lower into your jeans before sliding up and into you.

He moves them slowly, making sure you’re comfortable with his touch. But when you start to groan and grind against his fingers, he quickens his pace—kissing and sucking on your neck.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lifting a leg and feeling his other hand hold it up for you. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah? You want me to make you come?” The vibration of his deep voice against your neck, sends a shiver down your spine and all you can do is nod.

Bob chuckles before quickening his pace inside you. It’s like his fingers know exactly where you need him to hit because each pound, every movement, is hitting exactly where you need him to be.

“I’m so close,” you moan.

“Come for me baby,” he groans. “Come on my fingers like a good girl.”

Obediently, you feel your body writhe in pleasure before shuddering an orgasm.

But Bob doesn’t stop.

He continues pumping into you, only stopping after you grab his wrist and pull his lips to yours.

“Keep doing that and I’ll be done for the night,” you mutter against his lips.

He pulls away, looking down at the beauty below him and is instantly struck with how beautiful you are up close. He realized it while you both were dancing, but the feel of your body grinding against him was clouding his brain. 

“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.

You blink up at him. “Are you saying that because you want me to go home with you?”

“N-no! Well I-I wouldn’t mind,” he stutters. He clears his throat, searching your eyes before smirking. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

When your sweet laugh reaches his ears, he realizes you were joking and leans down close to your ear.

“You could definitely come home with me if that’s what you want.”

“Can we?” You ask sweetly, redoing your zipper and button. 

Bob leans down to kiss you one last time, grinding his hips against yours.

“Absolutely.”

“Then take me home, Bob.” You tell him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He kisses you one last time before taking your hand and guiding you to the exit door.

Multiple people (your friends and his) whooping as you both walk out. 

Listen, I was in the mood for some Bob and let me tell you this has been in the works for the past week because I just could not get into it. So I apologize if it seems like this is all over the place. I just needed to get finger banged by Bob 😏



[sukunasbow]

the house party, brian o’conner.

summary: in which brian shows up to dom’s house party after a street race and finds a guy flirting with you!

warnings: not yet proof read!

notes: requested by anon, sorry this took so long! hope it finds you! also this was written at like 5am so it might be pure shit but enjoy!

You’re currently sitting on the small couch in Dom, your friend’s, living room. Some random guy that was at the street race earlier sits down right next to you, passing you a beer and then taking a sip out of his own. “Crazy, Torreto can’t even show up to his own party, right?” The guy jokes. You don’t find him all that funny, but you let out a fake laugh, turning slightly to admire his attractiveness. He has fluffy brunette hair with the nicest green eyes you’ve seen, paired with a baggy shirt and pants combo. “So, you got a boyfriend?” He abruptly asks you, earning a small smile from you as you shake your head. “Not much of a talker, huh? What about dancing?” He laughs, standing up and offering you his hand, wanting you to dance with him.

You contemplate the offer. You have a small thing for Brian, this new rookie racer that’s becoming friends with your friends. You met him at a street race a bit ago, he’s been on your mind ever since. Unfortunately, thinking nothing’s going to go farther than your school-girl crush, you take the guy’s hand.

“What’s your name?” You ask him as the two of you dance to the music, surrounded by other couple’s grinding up against each other.

“Tyler.” He pauses. “And what about you?”

“(Y/N).”

“Pretty name.” He grins.

The two of you are now inches apart, his hands on your waist, guiding your hips to the song. You’re so hypnotized by him that you don’t even notice Brian and Dom walking into the house at that exact moment, the blonde one watching you dance with some random guy.

“You like her?” Dom laughs, noticing the jealousy on Brian’s face as he continues to watch you from the front door, not knowing how to respond.

“What? Man, no.” He denies.

“Sure, alright.” Dom shakes his head, passing Brian a beer, the man taking it and starting to drink from it. “You should say something to her.” He continues before walking away with Letty, leaving Brian alone.

“Right.” He says to himself.

After a few minutes you notice Brian, glancing at him when you look over Tyler’s shoulder, noticing him staring the two of you down. You nod your head in his direction, acknowledging his presence as he drinks his beer in the corner of the room, some girl coming up to him a moment later. “Hey, baby, what’s your name?” The girl flirts with him, sitting on his lap and smirking. This time, it’s your turn to be jealous, glaring at the girl. You shouldn’t be getting jealous, considering you’re dancing with some guy, who you’re no longer focused on, but something about seeing Brian with that girl makes you stop dancing, leaving Tyler confused. “What’s up?” He raises an eyebrow, confused on why you stopped. “Sorry, you’re super hot, but I can’t.” You shake your head, walking away and making your way towards the blonde haired guy.

“Excuse me?” The girl that’s sitting on his lap and flirting with him questions, her tone harsh. “Wanna dance?” You ignore her and straight up ask Brian, earning a smile from him as he gently moves the girl off his lap and stands up, happily accepting your offer. “Hell yeah.” He takes your hand.

[drewsarms]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི A little of the writing was inspired by this post!! For my baby @shawtycoreee !!! I hope you guys enjoy! Send me some asks too!!

𐙚: hick!rafe x toots!reader get into a fight and make up

𐙚 : warnings: violence (fighting), angst, use of “daddy” , faux fucking, 18+ mdni !!

From the moment you woke up you were ready to get on your man’s last nerve. To be fair he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to you lately. Going out with his friends. Coming home drunk. Not listening to when you’re yapping about god knows what. It’s not that you didn’t trust him or had concerns of if he didn’t love you. He was a sweetheart to you in every way possible. You got to see a side of him that no one else did. But something was off and you had to know what the problem was.

Rafe was working late tonight. By the time he got home you’d usually be in bed but tonight was different. You wanted to let him know just how much he pissed you off. When he pulls up in the driveway he was surprised to see all the lights still on. He hurried inside to see if anything was wrong.

“Baby, uh, you there?” Nothing. He walks further into the house and sees you sitting on the kitchen counter. “You didn’t hear me come in Toots?” You didn’t answer him. You knew just how to piss Rafe off and that was not answering his questions. He drops his bags and walks towards you. “You know I don’t like that shit. I asked you a question goddammit.” He points a finger in your face. You look away. He puts his finger on your chin and you push him away. “You know what fuck this shit.” You jump off the kitchen counter following him around the corner. “Where the hell are you going?” You say throwing your arms up in the air. Your voice starts breaking. “To fucking relax. I can’t deal with this shit right now.” Tears start to form in your eyes. To think that he didn’t even want to talk this through hurted you even more. “What shit are you referring to? Since we’re on the subject I can’t deal with your shit anymore either.” He turns around and raises an eyebrow. “Hey! You better watch your fucking tone little girl. I am not in the fucking mood.” He says walking towards you. Backing you against the wall. “I don’t give a fuck what mood you’re in. You’re pissing me off and I want to talk to you about it.” Rafe rolls his eyes at you and starts to walk away. “I really can’t fucking do this.” He mumbles. He walks to the kitchen to grab a beer and you follow right behind him. He’d be damned to think that this conversation was over. He brings the beer up to his lips and before he can take a sip you snatch it throwing it against the wall making a mess. “You’re such a fucking dick!” When you turn away you can hear him unbuckling his belt. It made you even more pissed if he thought sex was going to be the answer to the argument. You were caught by surprise when you felt the cool leather snap hard against your ass making you jump. Before you could turn around Rafe grabs you by your neck. His mustache tickling your ear. “You’re gonna fucking regret that.”

Rafe throws you on the bed. You can’t admit you’re a little scared. Not because you made him mad (that’s something you’re used to) but because he’s not eagerly trying to fuck some sense into you. “Get that cute ass up in the air.” In an instant you listen. He chuckles at your eagerness. He runs the cool metal of his belt buckle against your ass making you shiver. Five more harsh slaps from the belt hitting your ass filled the room. You try to apologize but all that’s coming out is whimpers and sniffles. “Quit that fucking crying Toots. Don’t act so sorry now.” A feeling of emptiness comes from behind you. You don’t feel Rafe. You start to wiggle your ass out of neediness. “D-daddy?” you say through cute little cries. You feel his jeans press against your panties. His hard cock feels like it could break through the material. He grabs your hips and starts fucking into you. He was teasing you and you hated it. “Wanna show daddy how sorry you are?” You whine as you start to twerk against his clothed dick. He slaps your already sore ass making you gasp. “Daddy please fuck me! Please!” You look back at him and he has this sinister look in his eyes. His once bright blue eyes turning dark. It turned you on and scared you. “Uh uh I thought I was such a dick shug?” He looks down at you backing your ass up against his dick. “Doesn’t seem like it’s a bad thing now does it? Not with the way you’re shaking your ass against me.” After what felt like hours of torture you finally heard him unbuckle his belt. “Get those fucking panties off.” You eagerly reach back and yank them off spreading your legs even more so he can have a perfect view and easy access to your pussy. You can feel him line his self up with your entrance. Rubbing at your leaking, sensitive clit. You start to kick your feet in protest. Desperately trying to push his cock in your pussy by backing up against him. “Daddy! I’m sorry please I won’t act up again! Just please fuck me-“ Your little fit turned into moans as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. Every time he fucked you his dick felt bigger and bigger. “I don’t want to hear your whining and shit ever again. When I come home I want you to be my good little girl. You don’t ask me questions. You don’t get mad if I’m at work all day. You got that?” You nod your head in agreement. The pleasure becoming too much for you to speak. He pulls out and starts rubbing your clit. “I asked you a question angel.” You look back at him with teary eyes. You reach for his face giving him the most desperate and sloppy kiss. A string of spit connecting your swollen lips together. “Yes daddy! I understand! I’ll be your good girl!!” He gives you a sweet kiss to your forehead before sticking his cock back in and filling up your sweet cunt.

━━⊱⋆⊰━━

As the two of you layed in bed together he realized he never got an answer out of you. “Baby you awake?” he asks in a whisper. “Barley,” you managed to say in your sleepy voice. “I guess I did fuck you good then.” The both of you laugh. “But uh, nah you-you never told me what the problem was.” You sigh as you sit up to look at him. Tears start to form into your eyes. “I never complain because I know you do so much for me. I hate to seem so ungrateful but sometimes you don’t listen to me. Sometimes I never get to see you. I just love you so much and I don’t want to loose you.” You can hear Rafe sniffle. He sits up now holding you in his arms. “Toots. I can’t promise you everything in the world but what I can promise you is that I am never leaving. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I need you beside me. You’re all I have. I’d be a goddamn fool to ever let you leave. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Tell what I need to do to make it up to you.” You look up at him. Your tears still flowing because he’s never really this vulnerable. “Mmm, $300 dollars every week?!” The two of you laugh as he pushes your head back into the pillow, laying back down next to you. He kisses your temple. “You got it sugar.”

Taglist: @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @starkeysprincess @drewstarkeys-world @drewspinkbunny @venic-bxtch @nemesyaaa @justafangirls-blog @rafecameroninterlude

[anna-hawk]

L'étranger

Frank Castle x f!Reader

Summary: You decide to hit a bar after one hell of a day at work and meet a man who's willing to listen to you rant away. As the chemistry seems to build between you, you choose to be bold and ask him to come home with you. He doesn't give you what you want, but ends up giving you what you need.

Rating: Explicit 🔞 // WC: 5,9k

CW: PWP, sex as stress relief, bj, finger fucking, soft and emotional sex, first meetings

A/N: this is based on my current work life. I just wish I could meet Frank that way too 😅. Also, the title means "The Stranger" in French.

Read it on AO3

Stumbling through the doors of the first decent bar you found after leaving your job, you made a beeline for the counter, desperately needing a glass of wine or beer. Or whatever. You weren’t picky tonight. You threw yourself onto a free bar stool, slapped your purse onto the counter with a resounding smack, and uttered a large and miserable half sigh, half groan. 

“Sounds like someone had a day, huh?”

You tiredly glanced to the side and caught the sight of the man the voice belonged to. Absently, you thought to yourself that you’d at least managed to sit down next to a good-looking guy. The sharp jaw, broad nose and wide shoulders definitely did it for you. Unfortunately, you were too exhausted, mentally and physically, to really take more note of him right now. Instead, you stared at him with half open eyes and a flat expression. At his lopsided smile and expression of genuine concern, however, you huffed out a bitter laugh that transformed into another one of your long sighs. 

“More like month.”

The man cringed in commiseration and lifted his hand for the bartender to get his attention.  

“Hey, man, serve the lady whatever she wants and put it on my tab, yeah?” 

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words.

“That's really kind of you, but you don't have to,” you said softly, waving a hand around. 

“I know,” he replied simply, but shrugged in a way that clearly stated that he was still doing it. 

You stared at him for a second while he took a gulp of his beer, observing his profile. And what a profile it was. You weren’t in the mood for dealing with a man trying to hit on you, but this guy wasn’t showing you more than genuine kindness. 

“Thanks,” you finally said, giving your order to the waiting bartender. 

“Don’ mention it,” the man smiled, inclining his bottle of beer towards you. 

Silence fell, but you could see him watching you out of the corner of your eyes, contemplating you as you pulled out your phone and put it on do not disturb. You refused to be bothered by anything from work or anything else for that matter. You muttered darkly under your breath as you saw the text in the most recent notification for your job’s group chat, but chose to ignore it. They could deal without you for the next two days. 

“Wanna talk about it?” The man asked tentatively right when your drink arrived. 

You gave him an amused side eye and took a long sip of your drink, groaning in satisfaction at the taste.

“I don't wanna bore you with my shit, but thanks for asking.”

You weren’t blowing him off, but really didn’t think that he’d be interested in listening to everything that was bothering you. 

Apparently he figured that he wasn’t the issue, since he shrugged. “I don't mind. Not a lot I can do, I guess, but if you just wanna rant at someone, go ahead.” 

You laughed at the suggestion and sighed deeply, turning towards him with your head tilted to the side. 

“Oh, you're not ready for this.”

He smirked and faced you as well. “Try me anyway?”

You stared at him for a while, considering him, but he only looked back calmly. Before you knew what was happening, you were talking.

“It’s my job… My manager is retiring in the next few weeks, and the guy replacing her is the worst choice the higher ups could have ever made. He comes from a different field, knows jack about what we do, and trust me, it’s not the past month he spent with my manager while she trained him, well, tried to at least, that will teach him everything he needs to know. It’s just impossible. She always has so much to take care of, and I don’t think that he realizes it yet. And if at least he was putting in the effort and showing us that he wants to do well, that would already be great, but he doesn’t. He keeps putting the blame on other people or the system or whatever whenever something isn’t working, or he messes up. He’s all fake smiles and laughs, but he complains about everything. It’s a nightmare. The thing is, he isn’t the only one at fault. The general manager handpicked him because she knows that she can control him, something she couldn’t do with my old manager. Our office is kinda far away from the headquarters, and we always did great work without anyone’s help. I’ve been working for that company for fifteen years, and my coworkers and I felt that everything was flowing pretty well, even if we knew that the company has more flaws than good sides. Although the salary isn’t what I’d love it to be, I love my coworkers, and the job itself is fine too. But now, with the manager gone, we all suddenly realize just how much shit is going on behind the scenes and what might happen to us. They tried to bribe us by giving out bonuses, but only to certain people. It was all supposed to be hush-hush, y’know. The people getting the bonus weren’t supposed to talk about it, but that’s not how we work. So instead of making us happy, it made us more angry. Not at each other but at the higher ups. Why would some of us get a bonus and others wouldn’t, when we’re doing the exact same job? That, and don’t get me started on how they’re basically kicking my old manager to the curb. She gave thirty years of her life to that company, worked her ass off, spent hours upon hours working so the job wouldn't transform into a giant shitshow. Her work ethic is incredible, and the higher-ups don’t seem to realize just how much she brought to the company. My guess is that they’ll have a rude awakening once she’s officially gone and everything is going to come crumbling down around us.” 

You paused, sighed explosively, and drank down the rest of your drink. 

“Well, shit,” the man said with raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. These people really don’t sound like they deserve to have you or your coworkers puttin’ all that effort into the company.”

You scoffed as you stared into your empty glass. 

“You bet your ass they don’t,” you muttered sourly. 

The man chuckled at your vindictive tone, which had your lips pulling up on one side. 

“Hey, man, can we get a refill?”

You lifted your eyes to find your stranger addressing the barkeep and waving a hand over his beer bottle and your glass. While the barkeeper nodded and started on the drinks, you smiled ruefully as your seat neighbor turned his attention back on you, your heart squeezing at the soft smile he sent your way. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, ducking your head. 

“No problem,” he replied in a low tone. 

After a few seconds of silence, you realized that he was still watching you expectantly when you looked at him again. He chuckled at your expression. 

“Somethin’ tells me there’s more.” 

You laughed, loudly and with a wave of relief washing over you. Talking to him was lifting a giant weight off of you, as if getting the words off your chest had been more necessary than you could have ever imagined. His grin was wide as he watched you laugh, which had your stomach warming at the attention. 

“I wanna quit,” you started before pausing briefly and watching the barkeeper bring your drinks. You thanked him and took a fortifying sip. The drink you chose wasn’t too strong, since you just wanted to take the edge off, so you weren’t even really tipsy now. You definitely felt more loose, though. “I’ve thought about changing careers for ages. I don’t mind my current job as it is, it has good and bad points, like any job, I guess. So I’ve put my actual dream career to the side for years, focusing on staying financially stable instead. But now, I realize that I don’t wanna stay in that fucking company. I just can’t, you know? I can’t work ridiculous hours for a barely decent salary anymore. The thing is, I can’t just up and quit like that. I’d lose all the benefits I got over the years, and getting the degree that I need to be able to do what I really want costs money. So right now, I’m still checking out my options, but if the CEO doesn’t agree to let me go with my benefits, I don’t know what I’ll do.” You shook your head miserably and swirled your drink around in the glass. “Going into work and being stressed has been part of the job since day one. But mostly, it was never in a bad way. Especially lately, because I know my job, and I’m good at it. Now, though… When I’m going in, I feel pure disgust and contempt for the people employing me. I’m just so… done.”

You finished with a long breath, your anger simmering down after getting it all out, leaving you with mostly frustration. Your face suddenly grew hot as you realized that you’d basically word-vomited in front of a complete stranger, showing him all the ugly feelings and resentment you’d been carrying around for the past couple of months. 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, closing your eyes and rubbing over them with your thumb and index. “I know you said you were okay with this, but I still feel like I basically just dumped everything on you like a whiny kid.” 

You heard him chuckling, the sound low and warm. 

“Yeah, I told you to go for it, but you didn’t sound whiny to me at all. Just like someone who really needed to get it all off their chest.” 

Leaning your head over your folded arms that were already lying on the counter, you turned your face towards him with a small smile. 

“Guess I did.”

“Do you feel any better?” He watched you intently, his eyes moving over your whole face. 

You looked to the side, taking stock of your emotions, before you met his gaze again with a smile. 

“Yeah… I do.”

“See. Worth listening, then.”

After the past weeks of absolute nightmare, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have happened upon someone as kind as this man. 

“You’re something else, you know that?” you said with a tone of wonder, taking more of him in. You'd noticed his prominent nose earlier, but his mouth was just as worth looking at, as were his brown eyes. 

He scoffed, the sound self-deprecating, but he didn’t say anything, and instead, took a swig from his beer, which brought his large hands into your line of sight. 

“Thank you,” you continued, keeping your eyes on him from your slouched position over your arms. 

“No problem.” This time, he was the one to look away, as if suddenly shy, which only intrigued you more. 

Straightening again, you propped your elbow on the counter and put your head on your fist, leaning slightly in his direction as you observed him with interest. He automatically looked at you again, beer bottle halfway to his mouth. Your heart started to beat faster as his eyes dropped to your mouth. You bit at the side of your bottom lip, as if in reply to his staring, and felt a zap of want when he met your eyes again with a different kind of intensity. Emboldened by your drink and his reaction to you, you leaned in enough for him to be the only one able to hear you. 

“Come home with me?”

The man blinked at you once before simply staring at you quietly, which was the only sign that he was at least slightly surprised by you being this straightforward. You held his gaze, no matter how much you wanted to look away, as embarrassment started to run through you despite your boldness. As his eyes drifted to your mouth again, your anxiousness began to evaporate. 

“Hey, Will,” he said, while keeping his attention solely on you as he addressed the bartender who was walking past you. “I’ll close my tab next time, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Will answered easily, grabbing the beer bottle and glass from in front of you to put them away. 

Biting your lower lip on a giddy grin at the realization that this was actually happening, you got up and grabbed your purse. The man rose as well, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth at your reaction. As you walked out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, you hailed a taxi that was just turning the corner of the street. The both of you got into the car, and once you’d given the driver your address, you spent the ten minutes it took to get to your building in silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but your heart was beating like crazy as you tried not to overthink your decision. You refrained from looking at him directly as well, opting to keep your gaze on the street. However, you were aware that he was watching you through the semi darkness of the cab. After arriving in front of your building and stepping out of the taxi after paying for it, you made your way towards your apartment, with the man following one step behind you. He stayed beside you as you fished for your keys, staying just as quiet as before. 

“Right, um, I’ll quickly hit the shower, okay? Been in these work clothes for much longer than I like,” you laughed awkwardly, as you stepped through your apartment door. 

You internally rolled your eyes at yourself at your babbling, but the man just sent you a small smile and hummed in understanding. You nodded and began walking off, but after only one step, you quickly turned back to him. 

“Make yourself at home, yeah? Um… I don’t have anything interesting to drink but if-”

A warm palm cupped one of your cheeks and tilted your face into the man’s direction as he stepped close to you, effectively shutting you up. 

“I’m fine, ‘kay? You go take that shower, and I’ll just wait here, alright?” he said soothingly, his voice low and gentle. 

Staring into his soft brown eyes, you blinked at him before you nodded with a small smile. He let go of you, and you immediately headed into your bathroom, shutting the door and taking a deep breath. You rushed through removing your clothes and finally stepped into the shower. The hot water helped relax your nerves, and by the time you were done, you were still nervous but in an excited way this time. Once you were done drying off and brushing your teeth, you put on a thin bathrobe. As you looked at your underwear selection, you bit your lower lip as you chose to forgo putting on panties. If things went as planned, you wouldn’t be wearing them long anyway. As you stepped out again, you found him standing in front of your bookshelf, his head inclined to the side as he read the titles. He lifted his head towards you, his eyes drifting over your whole body as he watched you approach. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, giving him a small smile. 

“You got a nice book selection,” he commented casually, while standing close to you. 

You threw your bookshelf a small glance and smiled. “You can borrow whatever you like.” 

He hummed, the sound contemplative, but he leaned in until his nose was almost touching yours. 

“Maybe not tonight.” 

You nodded, going nearly cross-eyed as you stared into his warm eyes. A second later, you were closing them anyway, as he tilted his head and pressed his mouth against yours. It was only a gentle press of his lips at first, which he repeated as he leaned his head to the other side this time. His hands came up to cup the sides of your neck, using his thumbs under your jaw to direct your face how he wanted it. Your hands lifted to his biceps, squeezing them as you tentatively sucked at his bottom lip. He seemed to enjoy it, since he grunted and moved in further, causing you to take a step back and against the bookshelf. You moaned softly and opened your mouth as his tongue gently slid over your top lip. As the kiss deepened, you slid your arms around his waist, grabbing at the shirt, while he cupped the back of your neck and placed his other hand on your lower back, bringing you fully against him. You tried pushing for more, but the man simply stroked his tongue lazily against yours while keeping you flush against him. Despite the slowness of the kiss, your knees were beginning to shake anyway with how thoroughly he was delving between your lips. 

“Be — bedroom,” you gasped in between two presses of his lips against yours. 

Your stranger leaned his head away to quietly stare into your eyes, his expression intense, before he took a step away from you, indicating for you to lead the way. Biting your bottom lip, you briefly hesitated before you took hold of his hand to pull him towards the bedroom. As you reached the foot end of the bed, you turned back to him, meeting his gaze. He stepped back into your space without waiting for you to pull him towards you, his hands drifting over your hips and to your back as he sought out your mouth again. You sighed into the new kiss and ran your fingers through his lush hair. A thrill rippled through you as his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing it sporadically while the kiss turned hungrier. Wanting to get to your skin, his hands slowly parted the sides of the bathrobe until his fingers could touch your bare thighs. He ran them up slowly, making you shiver as he progressively reached your hips. They stilled for a brief moment as he realized that you weren’t wearing anything underneath the robe. His answer to that fact was to exhale harshly through his nose and make you take a step back towards the bed as he gently bit down on your bottom lip. You gasped at the sharpness of his teeth, and moaned into his mouth. His hands kept exploring your back, ass, and thighs, until you couldn’t stand it anymore and swiftly moved away from him to untie the robe and remove it at last. You were about to return between his arms, but the way he watched you attentively had you stopping and, instead, moving back, taking the last step needed to get on your bed. You did so slowly, moving backwards as you knelt down at the end of the bed. His eyes roved over your body, observing you with such obvious desire that it almost left you breathless. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this kind of undivided and honest attention. The man licked his lips quickly, before he walked up to you and bent down to cup your face and bring his mouth back to yours. Your eyes fell shut as you let him explore your mouth again, tipping your head to the side when he drifted his lips to your jaw before he tilted your head up to kiss down your neck and throat. Needing more of him, you reached for the buckle of his belt and tugged at it meaningfully. He leaned back a fraction to stare at you with a small smile, which you returned before you attacked the belt with needy fingers. Your heart beats were stumbling over each other at the sight of the sizable bulge in his jeans, making you almost clumsy in your haste to get to see all of him. Your stranger let you work in silence, but you knew that he was watching you. His shirt got in the way of your fingers a couple of times, making you huff and tug it up. 

“Off. Now,” you ordered almost snappishly, which only had the man chuckling in amusement. 

As you finally popped open the top button on the jeans, the man complied with your request and began to undo his shirt. With most of the buttons undone, he lifted his hands to the collar of his shirt to pull it over his head. While he did so, you fully opened his fly and tugged the jeans and underwear down enough to free his length. You took in a shaky breath as saliva pooled in your mouth at the gorgeous cock standing proudly in front of you. Right as your stranger was having his face covered by the shirt while he pulled it off, you dropped to your front on the bed and leaned in without a second thought, sliding your lips around the tip. His hips jerked as he uttered a short curse of surprise, finally ridding himself off the shirt, which he threw to the side. 

“Shit,” he rasped, as you slowly licked around the head, lapping at the nerves surrounding the crown and using your hands to guide him this or that way. 

Using your elbows for support, you took more of him into your mouth, raising your eyes to his as you did so. His fingers landed in your hair, stroking over it in a gentle caress as he watched you with hooded eyes. You bobbed your head, filling your mouth with as much of him as you could. He felt incredible, big and hot, coating your tongue with his taste and making you moan. Tilting his head to one side, he slowly pulled all the way out, keeping himself a few centimeters away from your mouth. You lowered your eyes to his cock, before you met his hungry gaze again, and opened your mouth. Licking his lips again, his nostrils flared as he slid back between your lips, groaning as you sucked him in eagerly. You let him fuck in and out for a few slow thrusts, delighting in the way he was watching you and how he filled your mouth. Which only made your core ache with the need to have him inside you. 

Pulling off with one last lick, you rose to your knees and grasped the back of his head with both hands. There was no need for words as you met in the middle for a heated kiss. He quickly stepped out of his boots and the rest of his clothes before following you onto the bed, the both of you moving back on your knees until you got to the center. With one arm around your back, he lowered you to the mattress and slipped between your thighs. He draped his body over yours but held himself up with one elbow, using his other hand to stroke the fingers over your jaw. The way he stared at you had a warm shiver going through you, which only got stronger as his hand traveled down your body. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as his hand arrived at your mound before it went further. Your lips parted in a small breath as his fingers drew around your slick folds in a gentle caress, only for your mouth to open wider when he gently began pushing two fingers inside you. You moaned softly and bit your lip as he removed them before he slid them back inside. He watched you intently, drinking in each of your expressions of pleasure as you gripped his shoulders while he slowly fucked you with his fingers. 

“Please,” you begged, clawing at his skin when he didn’t move faster. 

Instead of picking up the pace, you felt a third finger pressing in alongside the two others, forcing a sharp gasp out of you. Throwing your head back against the pillow, you squeezed around his fingers, which earned you a low groan from him. He didn’t go faster, though, content to watch you squirm and moan as your hips undulated on their own to get more friction. Finally, he stopped moving, however kept the fingers inside you, and used his thumb to lightly rub it against your clit. Your hips jerked and thrust up into the contact, while you cried out at the sudden shift in erogenous zone. On any other day, and had you been in a different mood, you would have actually loved having his fingers inside you like this, teasing you, but tonight, you needed him to fuck you. Extending an arm towards the bedside table, you blindly grabbed for the drawer. 

“Please,” you repeated, meeting his attentive gaze with your half lidded eyes. “Fuck me.” 

His eyes followed the length of your arm towards the bedside table. He glanced back at you briefly, before he withdrew his fingers from you, which had you sighing in loss but also excitement at what was to come. Quickly rolling to your side, you opened the drawer to get a condom out of it before laying back under him. He held himself up with his hands level with your shoulders now, watching you as you tore the wrapper open and pulled the condom out. He leaned down and placed a long kiss on your lips before moving up again. 

“Go on,” he rasped, the tone telling you that he was at least as affected by the situation as you. 

With your heart slamming in your throat, you peered between your bodies and rolled the condom down his length, licking your lips as it twitched between your fingers when you made sure it was secure at the base. Usually, doing this was something perfunctory, just a step to get to the good part, but with this man’s low grunt as he watched you, you felt yourself burning up even more. Slowly, you shifted your gaze back to his, meeting molten eyes as he lowered himself to one forearm again. He curled his hand under your neck to slip his fingers into the hair at the base of your head, while his other hand vanished between your bodies like earlier, only to line himself up with your entrance this time. You threw your legs over his hips as he did so, and let your fingers run through his hair before closing them in the soft strands on top. His gaze found yours as he pushed inside you slowly, so incredibly slowly. Your mouth fell open on a silent cry as you felt every inch of him inexorably burying inside you. He grunted and hissed when your fingers tightened in his hair, but his eyes remained focused on your face. When he was finally completely inside you, you brought his head down to kiss him deeply and squeezed around his cock to get a better feel of it. He groaned into your mouth and pushed his hips further into you, only resulting in making your head press into the headboard since he was already so deep inside you. While keeping his lips locked with yours, he began to pull out, using the same pace as while moving inside. You moaned and tightly wrapped your legs around his hips, while your walls tried to keep him inside you. He stayed there, with only the tip still inside you. Sucking on his lower lip harshly, you pressed your heels into his ass to get him to move, which he finally did, albeit as unhurriedly as before. He did it again and again, going slow but deep every time, tilting his hips in just the right way and driving you absolutely mad with need. 

“More,” you moaned brokenly, tugging at his hair and shoulders. 

His hand slid down your hair until it was curving over your neck, with the thumb lying at the hollow of your throat. He did move faster then, but it was still too slow for your liking. Drawing your nails down his arms, you keened, halfway between intense pleasure and intense frustration. 

“Fuck me,” you begged, as your fingers squeezed and gripped at his arms and shoulders. “Please, just-”

But the man kissed you quiet. Your eyes closed at the thorough kiss, except that it didn’t last long, since he knelt up and thrust in deep. You cried out, but as good as it felt, he still wasn’t fucking you harder. As you were about to grab his arms again, he caught your wrists and crossed them over each other. You gasped in surprise when he used one of his large palms to press your crossed hands between your breasts, keeping them there with strong fingers. Staring at him with wide and desperate eyes, you whined feebly as his hips gently rocked into yours, making a sharp bout of pleasure run through you. 

“Please,” you repeated for the nth time. “Just… please,” you whispered the last word, feeling your throat constrict. 

His expression was tender as he watched you while he leaned over you. 

“I got you,” he promised in a low tone, kissing you once. “I got you, Sweetheart.” 

The endearment and affection in his words had your heart missing a beat. 

Straightening again, he began moving once more, one hand at your throat, the other still holding your hands secure against your chest. His hips moved firmly; not quick and hard, but firm and intense, letting you feel all of him, while your legs, the only point of you able to do anything, kept pressing the heels into the back of his thighs. You whimpered at the pleasure he was giving you, so utterly different from what you had expected. As your stranger slowly but unrelentingly had your body climbing to its climax, you realized that he wasn’t giving into your pleas because he didn’t want to, but because he knew what you really needed. He’d listened to your story, observed you keenly, let you take the lead. He’d silently taken all of you in to reach this moment and give you what you needed and didn't realize you wanted: letting him take care of you and making you let go of all the negative things that were part of your life. It was with that knowledge that you were suddenly coming, the intensity of your orgasm so strong and so abrupt that your head flew back, your eyes closing tightly, as a cut-off sob spilled over your lips from the overload of feelings. 

“Sh, sh.” 

You felt his body leaning over yours again as his voice drifted closer to your face. His lips moved between your mouth and jaw, placing gentle kisses here and there as he let go of your hands. You instantly wrapped them around his shoulders, holding him tightly as he slid his nose against your neck while his hips picked up speed. Your thighs were trembling against his sides, but you didn’t let go of him, clinging to him as he rode towards his own release. His fingers combed through your hair as another sob ripped through you, which he followed by lifting his face to kiss you fiercely. You welcomed his mouth with gratitude, letting your tongues stroke against each other sensually until he came with a deep groan, his cock pushing as far inside you as possible. 

As you both panted softly, you met his gaze when he slightly leaned up, his eyes moving between yours searchingly. The hand that had been at your throat rose to your face, his thumb stroking away the wetness under your eye. 

“You good?” he asked in a quiet voice. 

You stared at him silently, letting your eyes slide over his face with its warm gaze and worried pull of his mouth. Uncurling your arms from around his neck, you cupped his face and let your thumbs brush over his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you answered softly, and smiled as his lips pulled up before meeting him for an unhurried kiss. 

After a minute, he pressed a final kiss to your cheek and gently pulled out before rolling to the side and off the bed. You watched him pick up his clothes and leave the room in silence. Biting your lip as you gathered your thoughts while climbing out of bed as well, you grabbed the loose T-shirt you wore to bed from the hook behind the door and slipped it on. With a small glance at the empty doorway, you returned to the bed and pulled down the covers to settle into a sitting position against the pillows, feeling unsure of what to do now. The man came back with only his jeans on, which had you taking a couple of seconds to admire his gorgeous form before you met his eyes. He remained in the doorway, looking as unsure as you. His fingers fiddled with the shirt absently as his eyes dropped to the floor and then to the side. When you had asked him to come home with you, it had been a spur of the moment decision, only done to get all the frustration out of your system. A one-time thing, purposely choosing to keep the encounter anonymous. But you didn’t want him to leave. Not yet, anyway. If he wanted to leave, that was okay, but-

“You could stay if you want,” you found yourself saying, as he still hadn’t moved away from the doorway. 

His eyes snapped to yours, then to the spot next to you, considering it for a second before he nodded a few times. He moved towards the bed and joined you under the covers after taking off his clothes again. Lying down next to him, you faced each other. His eyes traveled over your face again, stopping at your mouth a few times, which had you smiling lightly. At that, his gaze found yours, but you both stayed quiet as you observed each other. 

“Thanks for tonight,” you finally said softly, with a faint smile. 

The man frowned and shook his head as he looked down. “You don’t gotta thank me for nothin’.”

You smiled fondly at his display of shyness. “Maybe, but I haven’t felt this… peaceful in weeks, and this means a lot to me.”

He nodded in acknowledgement and lifted his eyes to yours with a tiny, one-sided smile. You bit your bottom lip as you observed him.

“You really are something else,” you murmured, before chuckling at his unconvinced huff. “No, you really are…” you trailed off meaningfully. 

“Frank,” came the answer after a beat of silence.

Your smile widened at finding out his name.

“Nice to meet you, Frank,” you grinned before sharing your name as well. 

Frank snorted at your antics. “Yeah,” he said in a low and pleasant tone. “Likewise.” 

A second later, a giant yawn split your face, which had Frank chuckling in amusement, while you tried to muffle the yawn with a hand and push at his chest with the other. 

“Maybe we should get some rest, huh?” he suggested with a small laugh. 

You only hummed in agreement and turned briefly to your other side to reach the light switch, sinking the room into darkness with only the city lights coming through the blinds. 

“Good night, Frank,” you said softly, the name sounding private in the small space between your bodies. 

“Night, sweetheart,” he repeated in an almost whisper, shifting closer to press a tender kiss to your forehead while he pulled you into his side.