#his voice and beautiful eyelashes? hell yeah
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confessions || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
summary: "you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.
warnings: mention of a gun, injuries, blood
word count: 1.1k ; fluff
tangerine masterlist
you jolted awake, "what the hell," you mumbled.
eyes half open you patted around on the bed for your phone. the blaringly bright picture of a sunset staring back at you.
4:07am.
the noise that woke you up sounded again. banging at your front door. carefully you slipped out of bed and opened the drawer to your nightstand, grabbing the gun. slowly, you walked through the house creeping towards the door. the house felt eerily quiet more so than ever. the gun was held behind your back and before you could turn the doorknob you hear a voice.
"it's me."
you opened the door, "why are- jesus christ tangerine."
he smiled weakly at you, sort of shrugging, the suit jacket draped over his arm moving with.
"hey, love," he said dejectedly.
his typically smoothed back hair showed no sign of gel as his curls were a mess. the fitted suit that adorns his body was now loose with blood splattered sporadically on the fabric. the button-down shirt rolled up on his arms exposed his battered forearms. there was dirt on parts of his face, dried blood across his cheek and forehead, and a split lip.
"come in," you whispered, grabbing his hand pulling him in.
you locked the door and turned to the kitchen with tangerine still in tow. you turned the lights on in the kitchen, grabbing him water and pain reliever.
"eat these if you need something. i'm going to grab the first aid kit, alright?" you placed a box of crackers next to him on the counter and retreated to a hallway closet. when you came back, he was munching on a few and the glass of water in his other hand.
"okay now, what's the worst?"
"some prick got me in the thigh with glass," he grimaced gesturing to the torn trousers. you leaned in gently placing your hands on his thigh around the cut.
"take your pants off."
"well, that's quite forward love now, innit?" tangerine chuckled softly.
all you could do was roll your eyes as you turned around giving him a moment to hop off the counter and remove his pants. when you turned back around you couldn't help but swallow harshly at the man's muscular thighs.
"there's still bits of glass in this babes, i'm gonna have to take it out," tangerine hummed in response, clearly tired from whatever job he just came back from.
you grabbed a pair of tweezers and removed small pieces of glass left inside the wound and all tangerine could do was hiss in response. the wound was then cleaned and after tangerine gave you the greenlight, he let you stitch him up.
"now don't go fuckin' around you hear me. that's a good stitch," you said pointing at the finished product.
"yeah whatever darlin'," tangerine retorted.
you moved up to his face to clean the dirt and blood off him. you slid between his legs to get closer, fingertips accidently brushing over his thigh as you grabbed the rag next to him on the counter. you didn't notice the goosebumps that sprang to life on his skin and raced throughout his body. your lips were slightly pursed as the rag glided across his cheeks, wiping away the evidence of an earlier job.
tangerine couldn't help but stare at you during your concentration. the way your eyes danced across his face inspecting every minute detail. your eyelashes- god since when were they that long? he couldn't help the tiny smile that etched its way onto his lips hearing the small whistle your nose made as you breathed in and out. it was something you mentioned in passing that you hated, after your nose was broken on a job. small freckles decorated the bridge of your nose, and a now almost faded scar followed the curve of your cheekbone.
"you're beautiful you know that love," tangerine said softly as if the declaration was a secret that only the space between you could know.
you faltered slightly. you and tangerine were friends. any compliments thrown each other's way was typically about work. you often worked with the twins on jobs so the three of you were close. the dynamics on and off the job the three of you had was truly incredible. many people wanted the trio because they knew the job would be a success, most likely bloody, but still successful.
to even try and deny the fact that tangerine is gorgeous was absolutely ridiculous. when you first saw him, you truly went breathless for a moment. there was no way this man was in the business of killing was one of your first thoughts, he had to be a model of some sort. and as if his looks weren't enough, when he wasn't being a complete dickhead, he had the most charming and witty personality. it was intimidating being around him most times, the feeling of insecurity often loomed around you when he was nearby.
you looked him in the eye before averting your attention to his split lip, "why didn't you go home?"
"found myself wandering this way," he said slipping off the counter.
"bit far from your house," you whispered in return. tangerine brushed a strand of hair out of your eye, his thumb running over your cheek.
"no distance is too far for you, darlin'."
you aren't quite sure where these confessions were coming from, but you would be a fool to say you hated it. it was obvious how you felt about tangerine. you knew it, he knew it, lemon knew it, damn near everyone knew it.
"i didn't know you could be a sap," you gave him a slight smirk.
his eyes fluttered shut for a moment, "today was too risky, thought i could solo it, make some extra money. it was stupid. all i could think about was you," he confessed.
you toyed with the gold chain hanging on his exposed chest before gently tugging on it, bringing him to you. the kiss was soft but long. in the midst of the kiss tangerine had placed you on the counter, finding home between your legs and holding your waist carefully. your hands situated on the base of his skull tugging ever so slightly on his hair. tangerine's mouth parted slightly in reaction allowing you to bite gently on his lip, ignoring the fact you can taste blood. with a sigh you both finally pulled apart. his hands never left your waist.
"c'mon, let's go to bed," you said.
tangerine wasted no time scooping you up in his arms, ignoring all the aches from today's job. 'i've waited months to hear these words,' he had muttered in your hair making his way through your house.
"i've waited just as long."
#tangerine#tangerine bullet train#tangerine x reader#tangerine x y/n#tangerine x oc#tangerine x you#tangerine imagine#tangerine imagines#tangerine bullet train imagine#tangerine fic#tangerine fanfic#tangerine fanfiction#tangerine bullet train fanfic#tangerine fluff#tangerine angst#tangerine blurb#tangerine headcannon#tangerine oneshot#bullet train imagine#bullet train fanfic#bullet train oneshot#bullet train x reader#bullet train#aaron taylor johnson imagine#aaron taylor johnson x reader#sebsbarnes
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Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.
(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)
Part 2
“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”
He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”
Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”
“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.
Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.
Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.
Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”
Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”
“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”
Roy and Jason blinked.
Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”
Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”
Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”
Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?
Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”
“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”
Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”
“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”
Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.
She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and tiger lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.
Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.
She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”
Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.
“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.
“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.
The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#jazz fenton#danny fenton#anon ask#tucker foley#sam manson#anger management ship#jason todd#jason x jazz#hardcover ship#ty for the ask <3#roy harper#koriand'r
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mentions of religion. don’t read if you think you’re gonna be offended. it’s your responsibility from here on out.
can’t stop thinking about sweet, innocent lamb!reader who has an agreement with clark kent.
balancing her faith, her family, and her urges were near impossible — but luckily for her, she’d confided in the right person. see, clark was a huge advocate for people being able to follow their heart with no one stopping them. in this case, it was you following your body parts. same thing.
the agreement was as it was told — every sunday morning, you would cycle to clark’s house before church. without compromising your faith, the two of you would perform… outercourse, and once you’d finished (on him) you’d head off to church to meet the rest of your family, and you’d confess your sin. because you know, you had female urges and all… but you still wanted to go to heaven.
so there you were, and clark was eagerly waiting for you. guilty? yes. but he couldn’t say he didn’t get just as much enjoyment out of it as you.
“you’re early.” he grins, cheeky in a way that only he can get away with knowing his great intentions.
“i just wanted a little more time today. are you usually waiting this early?” you ask genuinely, eyes wide and doe-like as he takes your jacket, leading you to the blanket he laid down every weekend on the soft hay for the two of you to roll around in.
“lets just say i need this too after the week i had.” he shakes his head, guiding you in such a gentlemanly way to the blanket where he settles down. he’s wearing jeans, because if he remembers correctly — the last time he wore jeans, the friction got you just right, sending you into your most explosive orgasm yet.
you kneel on the blanket, shimmying your panties down from beneath your sweet, pale pink church dress. he’s smiling ear to ear, finding it sweet how shy and bashful you still were acting after everything. “thanks again for this clarkie. you’re a really good friend.” you unintentionally bat your eyelashes at him, so beautiful and unknowingly sexy that the friendzone didn’t even come close to turning him off.
“of course.” he gets comfortable as you straddle him, your lips parting as you lower yourself onto his crotch— surprised to feel that he’s already hard. clark’s large hands settle on your hips as you slowly begin to grind down on his lap. usually, you get straight to work, eyes squeezing shut and blowing out air in concentration as you get yourself off, and clark doesn’t have to do much work at all. really, he usually got to sit back and enjoy the show with a few sweet caresses and encouraging coo’s as you rock back and forth on his thick, warm cock.
but today you look a little unsettled, distracted and you blink at him, unsurely. “clark?” you squeak meekly, acutely aware of your wetness seeping into his jeans.
“mhm?” he hums softly, an encouraging thumb brushing your waist kindly.
“can… can we kiss?” you furrow your eyebrows, clammy hand leaning on his firm stomach.
“kiss?” he raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “you want to? i just… i thought you wanted to stick to just this, you know? as innocent as it can be so it doesn’t… compromise your faith or anything.” he trails off when he sees the conflict in your eyes. of course he wanted to kiss you, what the hell was he talking about? in an even gentler voice, he cups your cheek and undoes it all. “yeah. we can kiss. we can kiss.” he stares into your eyes to really sell how much he meant that, cupping your jaw as he brings you in.
he feels you relax as your lips gently touch. usually, clark was a romantic. a gentleman… and he wanted to be that. but he knew what this was— this was to get you off, and a soft peck wouldn’t do the trick, no. he got to work, sucking and licking at your bottom lip, taking over so that you could focus on rolling your hips once more.
it all seems to feel better for you now with clark’s tongue in yours, the coarse fabric of clark’s jeans scraping up against your sensitive clit, causing you to arch your back and whine against his mouth.
“thats it, pretty girl. does that feel good?” he coo’s in a whisper against your lips and you nod, forcing your mouth against his once more, wet and wanting, with your cross necklace dragging across his own chest.




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Lucifer with an artist reader
・❥ You’re hosting an art class, and the nude model is someone you never expected
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
xx: it’s a long one y’all 😭 we’re still in the pre-dating era! Slowburn, anybody? Forget the crumbs, have the whole loaf of bread, my swans ☺️
warning: brief mentions of nudity & mild swearing

After Lucifer’s initial tour of the hotel, he started coming around much more often.
He was beginning to reconcile with his daughter, and that meant making up for all the years he had missed out due to his self-isolation.
When Lucifer came to the hotel for Charlie, he always made time for you.
At first, when you had still been busy working away at the paintings for the hotel, he had used the excuse that he was just coming over simply to “admire the art.”
Nevermind that he crossed the entire hotel just to look at some paintings, but you never pried him about it. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t waiting in anticipation for his visits.
Sometimes, he would lean against the door frame in silence, watching as your brush glided across the surface of the canvas. He dared not to disturb you while you worked. Too afraid he’d cause you to slip up and place your brush in the wrong spot, ruining your piece.
He never would admit it, but the soft, feather-like strokes you made always seemed to lull him into a state of tranquil bliss.
If he had the opportunity to sit there for hours and watch you paint, he’d probably drift off into a peaceful sleep.
It was ASMR for the King of Hell.
You weren’t always sure whether he was admiring the painting, or you. You were too concentrated on making a leaf of a tree, or the surface of the water just right to trace his gaze.
You’d think with Lucifer being the embodiment of pride and his rank as ruler of the realm, he’d have demanded your attention instantly.
Instead, it was you who usually spoke first. “Are you going to sit down?” You’d tease with a warm smile, greeting him with a bat of your eyelashes as you soaked your brush with fresh paint.
“Of course, I just wanted to see your progress, it’s looks beautiful as always.”
You had hummed a thanks as he strode over to the flat cushion in the middle of the room, and collapsed in it. He had now claimed it as his personal spot ever since he had first used it when you let him use his wings for reference.
Every time he made himself comfortable, he would exhale a large sigh of relief, like he just walked out of a noisy and over-stimulating circus show.
His tolerance for people in general was still pretty dicey, but here, in the quiet corner of the hotel, he could reset his mind.
And with you there? He didn’t feel so lonely. Even in your silence, your presence and the multitude of large paintings leaning against the walls was all he needed to keep his mind from drifting off into darker thoughts.
“Boy, do you work fast. I can’t imagine what Hell would like if you were the one running things.”
“Probably terrible,” You had laughed, “I may be able to create art under time constraints, but the pressure of an entire realm on my shoulders? We’ll let the super-powerful-fallen-angel deal with that.”
“There goes my vacation,” He had sighed dramatically.
Sometimes, he’d catch you humming to an ancient tune, and every time he’d ask you about it.
“What song is this?” He’d ask, genuine interest lacing his voice.
“Innsbruck, ich muss dich lassen”
“I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means”
“ ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’ ,” you’d laugh, “It’s a German song and is, you guessed it, from the Renaissance.”
“Oh, right. Germany. Yeah, they were our biggest influx of souls back in the early 1900s,” He replied, “Must’ve been fun people.”
You shook your head at that. Right, ‘Fun’, that was a rather.. surface-level take on what that country had gotten into during that period of time.
“You should tell me more about the Renaissance.” He’d ask with puppy-dog eyes, which always made you set down your brush and turn to him. A content smile spreading across your face.
Your knowledge of such a time always intrigued him, the Renaissance as a whole did. For so long, he had desperately clung onto the hope that some of humanity would go on to create great and beautiful things due to his actions. That his Fall wasn't all for nothing.
Slowly, that hope fizzled out, and Lucifer’s growing delusion that Earth mirrored the sinful realm of Hell in more ways than one plagued his mind.
And then you appeared, passionate about Man’s most beautiful creations. Art, music, long-ago writings of sappy declarations of love in the form of poetry, and times when humanity’s intellectual and innovative nature flourished.
“It was absolutely magnificent,” You’d start, drawing from the depths of your mind all the imagery you could remember from when you were alive, “Filled with all kinds of artistic expression, painters that filled the ceilings of churches with heavenly imagery-“
Lucifer had snorted at that. This era in time had such a romanticized idea of what Heaven and their Creators were like. He pitied their ignorance.
“-and beautiful music. They were known for bringing to life a worldview known as Humanism. It was meant to bring back ancient philosophy — like from the Greeks — to uplift people to participate in the betterment of humanity, and to perpetuate much more virtuous actions. There must be a whole city full of them up there, I can't imagine anyone from that period ending up down here with how protective they were of their moral code.”
He’d always listen attentively in silence as you educated him. Sometimes, he’d even pull out the classic yellow rubber duck toy he held so close to his heart, and begin to fiddle with it as you spoke.
When he worked on them in your room, he’d curate them especially for you.
“Look! This one can refill your palette with the bestest freshest paint!” He’d exclaim as he wiggled it in the air, “And it still quacks!”
Every time, you’d pull up a cushion across the table from him, and rest your chin on your hand as you watched in amusement as he demonstrated his work.
In this instance, he squeezed the sides of the duck and it let out a pathetic Sqeaaooo and a glob of paint slid out of its mouth and plopped right onto the table. It splattered, leaving a few droplets on his pretty white overcoat.
Lucifer was a messy fella, and times like this made you growl quietly and reach for a wet cloth from your cleaning bucket. Hastily trying to rid his clothing of the bright red paint. Your movements across his sleeve made his body tense, and his breath quicken.
For someone who easily flustered you with abrupt acts of affection like the first time you met, Lucifer had the uncanny ability to turn his face as red as his cheek spots when you displayed such care towards him.
“It's still a work in progress.” He’d bashfully assure you every time something like that wouldn’t go as planned.
You’d wish Lucifer displayed such creativity outside of the yellow bath toy, but you promised yourself to help him down that path.
You could only imagine how many ideas this man had stored in that head of his, and you had a feeling you’d get him to wake up eventually. The thought of being there for him — with him, made your cheeks hot.
When it was finally time for him to leave the hotel — sometimes hours later, you’d walk him to the door of your little atelier and he’d turn to you, with that charming smirk and half-lidded look.
“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Charlie?” You had ask, as he adjusted his hat and coat to depart.
“I already did before I got here,” he replied nonchalantly, as if you two existed in completely different buildings. Nevermind that she was a flight of stairs and a few halls away.
There were no more bold kisses to the limbs from him after your first meeting, to your displeasure. Even thinking about it gave you feelings that tugged painfully at your heartstrings and made you beg internally for more.
You desperately wished for him to softly hold your hand once more, to feel his lips graze your knuckles, to drink in the warmth of his touch.
Instead, he clutched his staff tightly, and dipped his hat to you.
“Until next time, Darling,” his voice, like silk, had echoed as waves of gold surrounded him. In a blink of an eye, you were left alone once more. Your heart pounding just like the first time, and every time after that.
Today, your heart was pounding just as fast. Except there was no Lucifer in sight.
Three days ago, you got a call from a good friend of yours who ran an art studio on the other side of Pentagram City. She realized she had double booked her classes, and had begged you to take over one for them.
“I’ve never taught anyone before…” You had trailed off over the phone, apprehensive to the idea.
“Nonsense! You are so well spoken, and you’re fantastic at this kind of stuff,” She exclaimed, “It’s not that hard, all you have to do is sit there while they trace the model and step in a few times to give them some tips on techniques. They aren’t a beginner class, so they shouldn’t need much instruction. You’re also in charge of guiding the model with the poses, but I already have a sheet that has them all, so you just need to follow along.”
You stood there for a moment, thinking. This was something totally strange to you. What were art classes like in Hell, anyway?
“Oh, AND they are going to be nude. At least partially, we make them cover their um, nether regions. That shouldn’t be a problem for you, right? I mean, you get paid for it so…”
Your friend trailed off, and the line went quiet for a moment as you mind raced. You looked around the now -empty atelier, your paintings finished and hung up around the hotel. You had nothing that was stopping you from doing it, not your skills, your time, or even the fact that the model was going to be exposed. You were in Hell, seeing someone like that was an almost daily occurrence. Telling her no just because of your nerves was a douchy thing to do, and you were far above that.
“Fine.” You conceded.
“YAYY!!” She shrieked in happiness, and you had to yank the phone away from your ear before it could start to bleed.
The next few minutes were her telling you where, when, and what to do. You had listened intently, memorizing her words. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of strangers that you were teaching.
After hanging up the phone, had you went downstairs and to the hotel’s lobby to inform Charlie of your new job.
“I’m really sorry if this interferes with me working here, but I just couldn’t leave her hanging.”
“Pffft, it’s fine,” Charlie had waved it off, “You accepting the position as my new interior design manager is more than enough, i’m just glad you’re getting out of your comfort zone like this!”
You sighed a breath of relief. Good, no issues. You were worried she would have said no, and the fact she knows about Lucifer visiting you? Well, you weren’t sure how she was taking that. You never dared to ask, nor did she make any kind of indication her feelings about that.
“What’s it like?” She had asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“It’s nothing too bad, I think I might actually like it. I just help them with their techniques on mastering figure drawing by using a model as a reference. My friend says they are still looking for one to pose, so hopefully they find one in the next few days.”
“Interestingggggg” Charlie responded, her eyes holding a mischievous glint to them. You could see the gears turning in her head, but what for, you had no clue. You didn’t ask either.
You had spent the next few days preparing, you even had visited the studio. It was very pretty, and the room you were in was small, but rather homey. You had more confidence with your ability to lead the class now after locating specific areas of importance.
Which lead you to present day. You were hurriedly scrambling around the room, grabbing anything of necessity.
Your eyes jumped to the clock, and a squeak of panic escaped you as the class’ starting time got closer and closer. Finally placing the last pencil in your bag, you raced down the stairs, beelining for the door.
“Where you going in such a rush, Hot Cakes?” Angel Dust called out to you from the bar, Husk next to him as he poured Angel another drink.
“To class, do you know where Charlie or Alastor is?” You questioned them.
A rush of wind tickled your back, and you whipped around to see the Radio Demon himself looming behind you.
“Hello, my friend!” Alastor’s toothy grin on full display.
“I heard you were looking for Charlie, unfortunately she left not too long ago. She said it was something of great importance, and that it could shape the future of the hotel. But do not worry, I am here to assist you!”
You placed your hands together into a praying motion, trying your best to appeal to the demon’s better nature. If he had one.
“Can you pretty, pretty please send me to the Regal Fortune Studio? I’m doing a class there and I need to get there on time.” You begged.
Alastor’s eyes squinted in thought. Before his smile widened more than ever.
“Alright, I suppose so.”
You didn’t get to utter a thank you before the demon snapped his fingers, and dark energy crackled around you. Cold suddenly gripped at your shoulders, and your vision blurred.
You squeezed your eyes shut, unsure of what would happen next.
‘Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me’
Suddenly, light hit your eyelids and you slowly opened them to see the studio before you, just steps away from the front door.
You exhaled a sigh of relief, before yanking open the door.
The door to the classroom was slightly ajar, and you could hear faint voices inside. Indicating that everyone but you was ready to begin.
You crossed the lobby, ready to pull on the handle of the door, before a slight movement in the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head.
At the far end of the room, you could partially see long, blonde hair sticking out into view. Then, you heard the stranger speak to herself. Quiet grumblings of a feminine voice as they berated themself.
You raised an eyebrow.. could it be?
“Charlie?” You asked slowly.
The stranger squeaked, their hair pulled out of view. You heard a thump against the wall, as though they’ve pressed themselves against it in an attempt to hide.
You slowly tip toed the hallway, before whipping your body around the corner, surprising the mysterious figure.
“Charlie!” You shrieked in surprise at the sight of her, crouched against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, and she let out a shriek of her own. Her eyes darted around, before she pulled herself up to meet your gaze.
“Oh my gosh heyyyyy, I didn’t expect to see you here!” She mocked innocence.
“Bullshit,” you retorted, “I told you where I was going like three days ago. Why are you really here?”
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she bit her lip. As if she was deciding whether to tell you the truth, or another lie.
Suddenly, she let go of the breath she held, her shoulders dropping in defeat.
“Okay.. the truth is, when you told me you were hosting an art class I was so thrilled! For you, of course. But then, I thought about how much you and my dad were getting along! Then, I thought about how you guys seemed to have the shared interest of art. So I.. told him about the class?”
“And?” You questioned, irritation lacing your voice. You really did not have time for this.
“And I told him about how you were still looking for a model, and you know how he is. He doesn’t have a problem doing things like that in front of people, and he’s getting better at being around people in general..”
You gripped Charlie by her shoulders when she trailed off again, shaking her.
“Spit it out! What about your dad?!”
“HE AGREED TO BE THE MODEL FOR YOUR CLASS BUT I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NUDE UNTIL WE SHOWED UP BUT HE JUST SAID GOODBYE AND WALKED INTO THE BACK ROOM!!”
You stopped dead, your breath caught in your throat. You turned your head slightly, eyeing the classroom door.
“Your dad… is in there… naked?” You finally managed to get the sentence out, your gaze returning to Charlie in a look of disbelief.
This was a joke, right? There was noooo way you were going to walk in there a minute and see Lucifer there. This was just a terrible (-bly good?) dream.
Charlie nodded in defeat, her head hung low.
“I don’t even have the mental strength to go in there. I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to. He was dead set on this.”
You rubbed a hand along your face, gathering your thoughts.
“Well, there’s no stopping it now,” You said, rolling your shoulders in preparation, “Guess I have a class to teach.”
“Have fun..?” Charlie smiled innocently at you. Her plan was working, after all.
You shot her a glare before crossing the lobby once more, and pulled open the door. You stepped inside, breath hitched, and gently shut the door behind you.
In front of you, four older women sat behind easels with a blank white canvas attached. If they noticed your arrival, they didn’t show it. Instead, they giggled in the direction of the slightly lifted stage. You couldn’t see who was on the stage, but the familiar voice with giddy amusement told you exactly who it was.
“You’re finally here!” Lucifer called, and you did nothing but stand there for a moment.
Straightening your back, you exhaled a deep breath, and walked forward. Right past the stage. You kept your eyes in front of you, ignoring the golden gaze that trailed your figure.
You positioned yourself between the platform and the women who had finally stopped giggling and whispering to each other, and cleared your throat.
“Hello, everyone. I’m your instructor for today, unfortunately Renee couldn’t be here today. We’ll be going over the usual though, figure drawing with the model present today.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, before opening them with renewed energy.
Slowly, you turned on your heels and pivoted in the direction of the platform. Your eyes widening at the sight.
Before you, on a long, red couch lay the King of Hell. Lucifer Morningstar, in all his glory. Shirtless, with no pants in sight. Thankfully, a thin, barely-hiding-anything sheet covered his waist section.
You met his gaze, a playful smirk etched on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, gauging for a reaction.
You made sure not to give him one. If he thought he was going a reaction from you in front of all these people, he was wrong.
“Let’s start by doing a quick sketching exercise, take about ten minutes to do your best and draw the model in front of you. Once the timer goes off, we’ll review and go over some techniques, before switching to a much longer pose.”
You clicked the timer, and the faint ticking of its gears cemented you into reality.
“Is that Lucifer?” One of the ladies whispered to her friend a chair over. Her friend shrugged, “I have no idea.. but boy, is he handddssoomee.”
You pressed your lips together, trying to ignore their gossip.
Sitting in the chair farthest from the group, you crossed your arms, your gaze resting on the floor. Was he looking at you right now?
You sat there for a moment, before realizing you couldn’t ignore him forever. He was the model after all. Soon you’d have to be helping him change poses anyway.
You looked up, drinking in the view. He was lazily leaning against the back of the velvet couch,
His hair, with no hat to cover it, stuck to his face messily with sweat. As he adjusted his head, a few strands of curls fell in front of his eyes. His intense stare slightly masked.
Was the room getting hot, or was it just you?
His eyes were locked on you, that stupid smirk still on his face. You sent daggers back to him.
He replied with a wave of his fingers.
You refused to let yours eyes travel any farther than his face, not ready for what kind of images your mind would give you regarding what was underneath the sheet.
“Did you know the Renaissance was pretty famous for constantly expanding its artistic art forms?” A voice smooth as butter filled the silence.
What the hell was he doing?!
“Believe it or not, the naked human was a very big inspiration for many of their paintings. No sheet in sight.”
Some of the women perked up in interest at Lucifer’s words. You couldn’t tell if they were actually interested in what he had to say, or just to hear his voice as it commanded the room’s attention.
“For an era so virtuous,” He teased the last part, reminding you of your discussion days earlier, “They so did love their scandalous marble status.”
He let that sink in, and you rolled your eyes dramatically at him. You couldn’t believe this was how Charlie planned on setting the two of you up.
A candle lit romantic dinner? Nah. A trip to the movies? Boring, apparently.
Were you against the idea of getting closer with the ‘Big Boss of Hell’? Of course not! He made you laugh and was actually interested in your ideas. This was just not how you expected it to go down.
“Keep talking, pretty boy!” One called from behind her easel.
Before he could speak again, the timer shrieked in your palm. You shot up from your seat, clasping your hands together loudly.
You turned your back to Lucifer as you began instructing the class, showing them a few techniques on how to straighten their lines, and how to hold their pencil just the right way that would give them a much thicker line for specific parts of the body.
“Alright, now, we’re going to have the model switch positions.”
Grabbing the paper that held all the different poses, you held it out to him, your finger tapping against the specific one in question. It showed the figure in a front facing view, one hand closed in a fist supported their chin, the other tucked neatly underneath. As if they were listening intently to some hot gossip.
“I’m afraid I can’t see what‘s on the paper. Perhaps, if you come a little closer and show me?
You groaned internally, he was enjoying this too much. You strided over to him. His gaze followed you, his grin only widening as you closed in on where he laid.
“You need to turn facing them,” You commanded the King himself. He pivoted, his body fully facing the group of gawking onlookers. He gave them a wink, and they hid behind their easels, their whispers fast and beathless.
“Now, you have to move your arm.. like this.” You spoke, reaching out one hand. You hesitated for a minute. You’ve never been so.. upfront with like this.
Reaching down, you gently circled your fingers around his wrist. Slowly, you allowed your hand to slip down, reaching his forearm.
His body was hot to the touch, and you felt like melting right then and there. Maybe it was time just to accept defeat, this man was just too good looking.
You felt the muscles of his arms shift, and you halted for a half a second.
Did he just tense?
Maybe you weren’t the only one who could be teased.
You guided his arm forward, and then up. Sliding your fingers, ever so gently, around his knuckles. You squeezed, and his hand enclosed into a fist. You guided it underneath his chin.
“Touchy today, aren’t we?” He spoke quietly to you, his voice dripping with velvet allure as you positioned him as the image on the paper showed.
“You be quiet.” You scolded him, trying your best to bring on your most serious face.
His quiet chuckle in response made you drop the face instantly. It was obvious you were pretty bad at this kind of thing, at least compared to Lucifer.
You grabbed his other arm, and gently tugged it underneath. Letting it lay neatly below him.
Taking a step back, you admired your work.
You were going to return to your seat, before a thought crossed your mind. You took a step forward, closing in on Lucifer again.
“And one more thing…” You started.
Using two fingers, you grazed the bottom of his chin, firmly pressing upward. Instinctually, his head followed the motion. He met your eyes, his gaze intensifying.
“Good boy.” You teased, your voice laced with a hint of sultry satisfaction.
You didn’t miss his pupils dilating into slits and his breath hitching slightly. You just turned on your heels, not giving him a second glance before returning to your seat.
You tilted your head at him slightly, looking at him through your eyelashes. Your lips curling into a provocative smirk as you gripped the timer.
Maybe now this would be an even match.
“Begin.”
Time flew by once more, and this time, Lucifer refused to meet your gaze. Instead, he was purely focused on the easels in front him.
“Tell me, my dear artist,” He began, addressing the demon woman before him. Her eyes widened when she realized he was speaking to her.
“If we were back in the Renaissance, would I make quite the muse?”
“Pardon?” The lady asked timidly, her voice coming out in a whisper.
“How about a statue? Think about that. Tall, Marble-skinned, and… lacking this rather uncomfortable cloth.”
The woman’s face turned bright red. Her mouth opened and closed, her tongue refusing to cooperate. Lucifer knew how to play this game well.
Then, he turned his head to you.
“What about you, stranger? Would you think i’d look good in such a form?”
You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair.
“If the statue could stay quiet, while the class finished their work. Then, perhaps.”
The angel huffed, averting his gaze. He blew a few strands of hair out of his face, before continuing his blank stare at the wall.
The timer in your palm rang once more. You lifted yourself out of the chair. This was it, the last pose.
You strided back to Lucifer, his smoldering gaze on your figure as you approached.
For this pose, he needed to be off his stomach. You weren’t going to roll him like a log, or go anywhere near his torso. That was too brazen of an act for you to commit to, at least with all the eyes on you. Instead, you squeezed your eyes shut and gripped the white sheet. You tugged with all your might.
With an oomph he rolled along with it, he shoulder blades digging into the cushions as he landed exactly where you wanted.
Before the ladies could get even a glimpse, you hurriedly adjusted the sheet back onto him.
“Impressive, bending the devil himself to your will.” He commented as you continued to adjust his arms.
Ignoring him, you moved onto his legs, positioning them slightly.
“Careful~” He chided.
You said nothing to that either. Once he was in the correct pose, you released him. You glanced at his hair, now messily covering his face.
You reached forward and, splaying your fingers, pushed his hair back behind his head. You let your nails softly graze his scalp before you tugged them free.
“Sorry, can’t have your curls covering your face for the girls back there.”
“I bet they wished they were in your position,” Lucifer hummed “Few rarely are.”
You chuckled softly, “Please, the view looks better from back there.”
He let out an audible “Ha!” as the words left your lips and you turned away from him once more. You knew that must’ve stung, sending a blow to the prideful king’s ego.
Thirty minutes went by as you sat there, you spent more time examining your hands than meeting the gaze of the angel across the room.
This had turned into quite an eventful class, you couldn’t lie. You also didn’t expect such a shameless attitude from Lucifer, he was much more timid back in your painting room. Perhaps there was a side of him you still had yet to meet.
To be honest, sitting here, watching the clock tick by, you were pretty surprised this man had managed to stay near-perfectly still these past few hours.
Another thirty, and the timer rang its last chime. You had been positioned behind the drawing ladies, giving them critiques on their work.
You ignored the fact it was Lucifer you kept staring at on their canvas, instead simply regarding it as charcoal lines in need of straightening.
You wished them farewell at the doorway as they left. You hoped they had at least a pleasant time, since they’d have at least a good story to tell to their girlfriends over the phone.
Shutting the door with a soft thud, you sat there for a moment before your shoulders dropped in exhaustion. You honestly weren’t used to that kind of atmosphere, since your work consisted of you alone in a quiet room all day.
Taking a few steps backwards farther into the room, your gaze landing on the couch atop the platform. It was empty. Your eyes widened, did Lucifer just leave you here?
You rushed out of the classroom and strode into the lobby, searching for any signs of him.
“Wow, that little sneaky piece of-”
“I’m right here.” Came a familiar voice behind you.
You jumped, whipping around to find Lucifer dressed fully. Hat and all. Now this is what you were used to. Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow.
“What was that back there?” You motioned to the room behind you.
“My daughter invited me to look good in front of people and I did an outstanding job, as usual.”
“As the model? You couldn’t have just used your position as King to get a spot behind the easel instead?”
Lucifer grinned widely, leaning back against the wall. Could this have been his plan, and not Charlie’s? Now you weren’t so sure.
“Unfortunately, not many of us have a skill as perfected as yours with a brush.”
You accepted that praise. You had worked hard for it.
“And, not many people have as great of a photogenic face as me. So, we’re square.”
You chuckled, shaking your head as you walked away. Lucifer kept pace as you both exited the studio, heading toward the curb.
“That reminds me,” Lucifer halted, reaching into his pocket to fish for something.
You stopped beside him, the mystery item in his coat pocket piquing your interest.
“I fixed it!” He held the the paint-vomiting rubber duck out to you, wiggling it in delight.
“You did?”
“That’s right. This bad boy can now pop out six different colors, you just have to pull its beak.”
“That actually really cool,” You laughed, taking the rubber toy from him. You turned it in your hands, maybe later you’d pretty it up with some fresh paint.
You looked up at him again, his golden eyes shimmering from the bright neon backdrop. You have much more to say to him, but your thoughts were jumbled from the day. There was one, though.
“You know, next time you should just ask.” You gripped the duck firmly in the palm of your hand, lowering your arm.
“Ask what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Luci. You’re telling me you hijacked my class because you had a change in career choice?”
His smile turned playful again, and he pivoted to face you, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Maybe, maybe not. That depends if i’ll be seeing you next week?” His eyes met yours with a questioning stare.
You gave him a warm-hearting smile, nodding your head.
“As always.”
His smile widened, and with a tap of his staff. Golden waves cascaded around you. It wasn’t cold, like Alastors. Instead, it was warm and relieving, like face planting into your pillows after an exhausting day.
As your vision began to obscure, you saw his face peak into the cascades of light, his hand reaching forward.
“I almost forgot.” His voice echoed, distorted by the magic as it circled them.
His hand enclosed around your own, and planted a kiss right onto your wrist. His lips lingered for a moment, as did his grip around your hand, as if your time together was too fleeting to let go.
You promised silently it wasn’t.
The light rushed over you suddenly, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to keep from being blinded. Lucifer’s touch vanishing with your sight.
Feeling your feet planting on solid ground, your eyes widened to familiar surroundings of the hotel lobby. You were home, and Lucifer was no where in sight.
“Hey, Hot Cakes!” Angel Dust called, still seated in the same spot at the bar, “How’d it go?”
——————
🤍 alright, let me know what you think of this!! your comments are appreciated, esp if you have any ideas on what to do next!
💜 the kisses are getting higher! part 3?
#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#did i do the sexy good?#my asexual ass is trying y’all#this man has been in one ep and we’re all snarling over him jesus
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18+ mdni; gn!reader
chuuya with a kitty!reader... he's sat on the bed, his back against the headboard as he waits for you. he's tired, exhausted actually, but the image of you in your teeny tiny little shorts keeps replaying in his mind. and your flimsy little tank top. your cute ears. your tail. fuuck...
he's half-hard in his boxers but he refuses to touch himself. he's hoping it'll simply go away if he ignores it long enough; you're in the bathroom washing your face while he's silently drowning in the lewd thoughts about his kitty. he doesn't want to ask, he feels just a bit embarrassed to do it – he's sure you've had one hell of a day too, sleeping and eating can oh, so tiring for a little cat like you afterall.
his head hits the wall behind him, his eyes falling shut as he fists the sheets. he just wants to go sleep; he wants to cuddle you and kiss you, and feel you against him. and feel you around him. you'd be so warm, so tight – his eyebrows furrowing with a cute, pink blush forming over the apples of his cheeks. he knows you'd make him feel so good, you always do. chuuya thinks about the fraction of a second when he caught sight of you bending over, the material of your shorts streching over your ass so deliciously. he feels like a proper pervert when his dick twitches at the thought of your soft thighs and your belly. your small hands, your skilled fingers, your sharp nails—
the bed dips and his eyes flick open, only to be met with your mischievous ones. you know. placing your hands on the mattress, you crawl toward him at a tantalizingly slow pace; your tails sways seductively behind you and your eyes twinkle with something dark, your lip caught under your canines as you settle yourself between his thighs. never breaking the eye-contact, you watch his adam's apple bob and the flush on his face spread even further. it goes down his neck and to his chest, to his shoulders and his ears. you think it's very cute, the effect you have on the port mafia excecutive.
"what's wrong, chuu, hm?" cocking your head to the side, you trace your nails over his knees, making the man shiver. your voice is sickly sweet, only making the embarrassment settle deeper in his gut as he tries to think of a way to change the topic. but your gaze is heavy and your touch burns, fingers slowly inching higher and higher over his sensitive thighs. "you can tell me... "
the pout you're giving him and the way you keep fluttering your eyelashes is not making it any easier for him, his head filling with filthy, just outright obscene scenarios and he feels awful. "it's nothing, doll. let's sleep, yeah?"
he raises his hand to caress your face and something warm pools behind his ribcage when you lean into his touch. your eyes soften just a tad and he's sure he's done it, but when he suddenly feels you cup his bulge, your nails slightly grazing the sensitive skin under his balls, he jerks forward. his eyes go wide and you think he looks even cuter now.
"what about this though, hm?" you apply some more pressure and watch the man before you crumble. ginger strands of hair fall in front of his eyes and he looks incredibly fucked out already. oh, how you want to play with him.
while keeping your ass up high, you place your elbows on the bed, knowingly pushing his buttons by showing him your perfect arch. slowly, your tail sways behind you, from left to right, and he feels as if he's being hypnotized. giving his balls another squeeze, you jut out your bottom lip. "i just want to take care of you."
chuuya's breath gets stuck in the back of his throat, his fingers wrapping around the hand that's giving so much grief. "you really don't need to, love. i– it's okay."
but his own body betrays him - the wet patch on his boxers, makes you coo at him while resting your cheek on his upper thigh. "please?"
your warm breath fans his clothed, aching cock and it's almost impossible to say no to you. how could he, when you're looking the most beautiful little thing he's ever seen in his whole entire life. and not only that, but you're also asking, basically begging to make him feel good.
"you sure?" he cards his hand through your hair, your ears twitching at the loving act – he's always been so very caring, constantly putting your needs above his own, so you figure it's time to show your appreciation.
"i want to, chuu."
leaning forward, you press your tongue against the side of his shaft, wetting the fabric with your saliva as you keep your eyes on your boyfriend.
with the combination of your hand and your warm mouth and the heavy gaze you offer him, chuuya feels lightheaded already. his free hand fists the sheet below him, his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the material while his other stays in your hair. his palm rests on the back of your hair, gently pushing you closer to his bulge without him even realizing that he's doing it – he's way too far gone already. the pink on his cheeks deepens and you watch how his lips part in a silent moan and you take it as a sign that you're doing good, that you should keep going.
so after giving him a few more kitten licks, you grant him a smile, to which he responds with a twitching cock. he feels ashamed that he's so easy but he really can't help it – he can't help but let out a raspy hiss when you wrap your lips around his tip and suckle on it like it's some kind of candy. like it's your treat.
chuuya's hips buck up and he shoves you into him, so your whole face gets smushed against his bulge but it's not like you mind; you like it when he loses his control a little, you like it when he acts out of pure pleasure. it's the hottest thing in the world.
there's an apology on the tip of his tongue but it fades the moment you place a hand on top of his, telling him that he hasn't crossed any lines and that he should keep it there. chuuya gives you a small nod while swallowing, his adam's apple bobbing in the process. beads of sweat dribble down the side of his neck and you feel hungry, the itching desire creeping up your throat the more you look at him.
as you hum at the salty taste of his precum, you inch your hand a bit lower and start massaging the ever-so-sensitive spot between his balls and his hole, and you're immediately praised for doing so.
his back rises from the bed and forms an almost entirely perfect arch as a loud moan topples from his bitten lips. you think about teasing him for being so responsive but decide to hold back the thoughts just this once.
"ah– fuck!"
your tail picks up the pace, your own heart racing at the sight of him feeling good – this is what you want most, to just let him relax. to let him feel. he works so hard; all day long, and sometimes all night long and so, being the one that's able to give him the well-deserved reward he so deserves makes pride swell in your chest.
you keep rubbing small circles with your index and middle finger while sucking on his tip, the material of his boxers now completely soaked with the mixture of your drool and his precum. with the help of the guiding hand on the back of your head, you develop a steady pace at which you rock yourself into him.
he's writhing now. your mouth is so fucking warm and your fingers are working him like magic, not to mention the way you keep wiggling your ass up in the air. he can't get over how your tail moves, your excitement so evident that it's hard for him not to think about the mess he'd find between your own legs.
and then there's your eyes.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
you haven't taken them off of him once and all the attention is really getting to him. his entire body burns with pleasure and his orgasm hits him like a fucking truck. the high comes so suddenly that he has no time to give you any sort of warning, not that you needed one anyway. with your lips still around him, you take him in your mouth as much as you can and cherish the way he's giving yourself to you.
chuuya grinds his hips against your chin and bites down onto his lip so hard it almost draws blood; he's now fully red in the face and in the chest and he's panting like a dog. it's a sight you never get tired of.
you lap on all of the cum that seeps through his boxers and then wait for him to make proper eye-contact with you again, to swallow it all with a smile. he gulps before mustering up a smile of his own – tired, flustered and lovesick all at once.
his body is still tingling with the aftershocks of the orgasm when you push yourself up and crawl on top of him and plop down onto his lap. hands on his warm cheeks, you kiss him hungrily, nipping at his lips and giggling into his mouth when his fingers dig into the plush skin of your waist in surprise.
but this is enough for the night, so you pull away and watch him chase after you with his eyes still closed. you give him another grin and brush his nose with yours and then you're already nuzzling yourself into his side and wrapping your hands around his middle.
chuuya sits there with his heart trying to jump out of his chest. oh, you're something alright. he still has to clean himself up and he knows that you didn't forget that – he knows that as much as you love making him feel good, you also love to push his buttons. to tease him and to really rub in the fact that he's completely and utterly wrapped around your pretty little finger.
his head falls against the headboard with a thud and a sigh and he swears he can feel you smiling against his skin. he loves it.
#wordvomit wordvomit#but i just.. yeah..#miss him and love him and i want to make him feel sooo so good#WAHHHHHHHHHHH#chuuya#wtf mickey can write#chuuya nakahara#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya nakahara smut#bsd chuuya#bsd x reader#bsd smut#bsd drabble#bungo stray dogs#kitty!reader#cw hybrids#chuuya x reader#chuuya bsd#chuuya smut
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Answer Love’s Call

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and he fell in love. He is about to propose. But something is off. You need time to come to terms about what this love will mean in the future. And how in the world you will deal with it.
Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: Okay, we're at Christmas. 😅 Hey guys. This one is close to my heart. Some of this is very personal to me, as a high functioning person who might be a little bit different. I hope you enjoy this.
This fic is in the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after both Worth the Fall and the Steve Rogers fics Peach VII and Peach 7.5 Also this ask is referenced.
Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut! LOTS of angst, Frumoasa is spiraling, y'all, running away, a sexy ex, jealous, spiraling Bucky, a doctor's visit surprise, Frumoasa realizes she is not nero-typical, a beautiful mountain chalet Christmas, Steve x Peach, extended family, an icicle surprise, and Bucky helps Frumoasa relax, hard. Dom/sub elements, references to bdsm, use of 'Daddy,' oral (m receiving) spanking, anal play, attempted edging, raw p in v, praise kink, breeding kink, yeah. :)
I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘
I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.
------
The day after the gala, you woke up with your head pounding. You were over warm, and your heart was beating fast, although you could hear Bucky’s steady breathing beside you.
You turned and watched him for a moment, his handsome face relaxed and also, strangely, confident.
He looked so sure, so steady.
But the day before proved that you didn’t necessarily know what was coming next and that made your stomach rumble and twist in knots.
It might have been too much champagne, or it might have been the rollercoaster of emotions from the entire day before.
Your thoughts were all over the place about you and Bucky. Next week, you would be at the cabin in Vermont for the holidays, and he was planning to propose there.
Maybe? Maybe not?
The uncertainty was eating at you. Your mind was swirling.
Bucky stirred, his hand instinctively reaching for you. You let him pull you close, and you kissed him lightly on the lips.
“Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
Your body, as always, responded to him. Hell, the day before you’d practically attacked him. Something about the way he looked lately was making you feral.
“Morning,” you responded.
He opened those beautiful eyes still heavy with sleep and peered at you through his eyelashes.
“You good?”
You hesitated. You could tell him, you thought. You could spill every crazy thought running through your mind. But you didn’t
So you gave him the easy answer.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
He smiled, content with your answer, and closed his eyes again.
You two had tumbled into bed after the gala, very much under the influence. If Bucky had been fully awake, he would have noticed that you were not, in fact, good.
You kissed his forehead and whispered that you were getting up to pee, which earned a grunt, a nod, and side smile.
You went to the kitchen and some tea to soothe your headache and some eggs for your stomach and then sat at the bar and ate, staring out onto the landscape of New York City at Christmastime.
You had time to really sit with your thoughts. You hadn’t lied to Peach. She and Steve were perfect together; and they’d done what felt right, what made sense for them.
But what they did made you spiral, because in your head you had more time to get used to them really being together. You’d give a million dollars to harness what Peach had, that spontaneity.
Bucky Barnes pulled that out of you, but right now you were feeling unsafe, out of control.
You were wrapped up in too many feelings: the drug of loving Bucky, the extreme high of sex with him, and then your own anxiety and intrusive thoughts.
Steve and Peach were headed to Atlanta today and then on to Vermont to spend a few days on a mini-moon before everyone arrived on the 23rd.
Your phone, which had been plugged up on the bar, started to vibrate, and you saw that it was your mother. You also saw that she had called twice before.
You knew she was calling about Steve and Peach and you just couldn’t do it at the moment.
You silenced the call and then walked through the bedroom into the closet and grabbed one of the expensive luggage pieces that Bucky’d bought you.
Maybe a few days at your place would help you sort things out.
—---
In the middle of packing, you turned to see Bucky leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression pure frustration.
Your eyes skimmed down his bare chest, following the trail of happiness between his pecs and down those abs that you ended up licking the day before, down his delicious belly button to disappear under the waistband of the grey sweats slung low on his hips.
There was more deliciousness in there, of that you were certain.
Suddenly, you wanted to fuck him stupid again, and you wiped the corners of your mouth to make sure you weren’t drooling.
“Frumoasa, what’s going on?”
His voice was tight, controlled, but barely.
You shook your head, feeling crazy. You gripped the t-shirt (of his) you’d been packing in your hands.
“I just... I need some time,” you admitted. “Before Vermont.”
His jaw clenched and those eyes blazed.
“Time for what?”
“To think,” you said simply, not looking him in the eye.
Bucky exhaled sharply, stepping forward, crowding you.
“If something’s wrong, just tell me. We’ve got to communicate.”
You swallowed, finally meeting his blue, blue eyes.
“I just need to figure some things out first.”
His frustration emanated from him for a minute, and then, suddenly, he reached for you, pulling you against him. You melted against his hard body, like always.
“Do you want to go to Connecticut? Right now?… Because if so…”
His voice was softer now, his fingers carding through your curls. But what he said made you panic.
“No! It’s not that, Bucky…”
“If you’re doubting us….”
His voice was plaintive now and your breath caught as his scent and his warmth surrounded you. You wanted to fall into him, to let him chase away every uncertainty.
But you needed to stand on your own two feet.
“I just need space,” you whispered, even as your hands reached up and clasped around his neck, unwilling to let go.
Bucky’s forehead rested against yours.
“You say that, but I can tell that you don’t want to leave,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.
Your heart thundered.
“Bucky. I need to. Please.”
His grip tightened for just a moment before he released you, stepping back.
“Then go,” he said, voice emotional.
He turned and walked out of the door, giving you a wide berth as you finished packing.
You cried as Nico drove you to your brownstone, and went straight to bed when you got there. You were emotionally exhausted.
—-
Bucky sat in his living room, spiraling, not knowing what to think.
Bucky agreed to you leaving, because what else could he do?
It didn’t make sense. The day before had been so much fun. You’d had great sex, and you looked amazing for the gala. Then there was the happy surprise about Steve and Peach.
He knew that you were over the moon for those two, but something was going on.
Had he taken too much time to propose?
But you’d only been together for a little over three months. He couldn’t help that Steve and Peach were crazy people who did crazy things.
Bucky was surer than sure that he and you belonged together.
Now you just needed to come to the same realization.
And he wasn’t going to force you.
—--
You stayed inside the entire next day, Sunday, feeling lethargic. Normally you’d be brunching or cooking with Bucky, relaxing and doing something fun.
You missed him and wondered why you weren’t with him.
At that moment, your phone rang. It was Bucky.
“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a knee up to your chest as you curled up on the couch.
“Hey,” he echoed. Damn, his voice did things to you.
“How are you?”
A lump formed in your throat at the longing in his voice.
“I’m okay...”
Silence.
Then he asked, “Are you eating?” You blinked, surprised.
“What?”
“You get caught up in your head when you’re stressed,” he said, his voice quiet. “I don’t want you forgetting to take care of yourself.”
Damn you loved this man. He knew you so well.
“I’m fine, Bucky.”
“I sent something over.”
Before you could respond, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Nico with a delivery bag, the scent of thai food in the air. Your chest tightened as you looked up at Nico.
“Bucky...” you whispered into the phone.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “Just eat. And call me anytime. I love you, Frumoasă. I miss you. I’ll see you on Friday.”
He hung up and tears slipped down your cheeks as you took the food from Nico. You gave him a hug and said goodbye and then held the warm container in your hands behind a closed door.
One thing was for sure, James Buchanan Barnes still knew exactly how to love you, even when you were running from him.
—-
The next few days were busy. You had to tie up year end things at the Center to prepare for the three week holiday shut down. You threw yourself into it and tried not to miss Bucky too much even though you two shared brief check-ins.
But your thoughts were scattered, your headache wouldn’t go away, and your stomach was unsettled. Plus, your emotions were on a rollercoaster.
You made a doctor’s appointment for Thursday. You didn’t want to bring a bug to the cabin to spread to everyone.
On Wednesday you got a visit from an old friend.
Around noon, you turned around to a different version of blue-eyed and tall, dark, and handsome.
“Terry!”
Your last ex-boyfriend was standing in your place of work.
“Hey girl. You looking good.”
You flushed at that smile and the way he eyed you was reminiscent of times gone by. And that voice. That was a thing once upon a time.
“Terry, What are you doing here?”
He sucked his teeth and shook his head at you.
“I can’t get a hug?”
You swatted at his arm and obliged, as Nico pulled out his phone to call Bucky outside.
—--
As soon as you walked in your door that afternoon your phone rang.
“Is that why you’re pulling away from me? You have another man?”
You pulled back and stared at your phone. Then you realized. Fucking Nico.
“Bucky, what the hell–”
Bucky interrupted you.
“I had to know you were safe, and then I’m told that you had a date with this guy Richmond.I wavered between coming to kill him immediately and letting you make your choice and tell me yourself, but I couldn’t wait.”
“Bucky…”
“Just tell me the truth, Y/N!”
“You gonna let me talk?”
Bucky was silent.
“The truth is I had lunch with an ex who also was a good friend to talk about his upcoming wedding.”
There was silence on the line. Bucky cleared his throat.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. ‘Oh.’”
You sucked your teeth.
“Anything else you wanna know, James?”
“Frumoasa, I’m sorry, I–”
“Don’t Bucky. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Bye.”
You hung up and cried, yet again.
You didn’t know what was happening.
—---
The next day, you sat on the crinkly paper in your Doctor Phillips’ office in complete shock.
She reached out and shut your mouth for you because it was hanging open.
“But….I’m on birth control.”
You looked at her as if she had three heads. She smiled indulgently at you.
“You know that’s not 100%. Have you had unprotected sex with anyone?”
You giggled, thinking just how much unprotected sex you’d had with Bucky. Then you started crying. She handed you a tissue, used to emotions with things like this.
It all made sense now.
The nausea you’d brushed off, the exhaustion, the moods, the uncertainty, the fear knotting in your stomach. You should have known.
It wasn’t just about you and Bucky.
It was about this.
A baby.
“Well, speaking of sex, I have a kind of... A delicate question.”
When you asked, you’d managed to shock doctor Phillips, but she soon recovered.
—-
Your mother was silent for a long time before whispering, “Oh, sweetheart...”
“Please don’t tell Peach,” you added quickly. “I don’t want to interrupt her honeymoon.”
You also knew that she would tell Steve and he would tell…
“Bucky doesn’t know yet.”
Another long pause.
“What are you going to do? Are you going to tell him?”
You swallowed.
“I don’t know how. We argued the last time we spoke. And I don’t want him to marry me just because I’m pregnant.”
“Honey, he’s gonna marry you no matter what. And you’re never going to get away from that man now that you’re carrying his child.”
You chewed your lip, still unsure.
“You think so, Ma?”
“Baby, I know so.”
As you spoke, you received pics of Steve and Peach looking deliriously happy in Vermont, glowing with happiness. They’d sent it to both of you. You cried on the phone with your mother and came to a decision.
When you hung up, you started packing.
—--
On Friday afternoon, you landed in Stowe and Nico was there to pick you up.
You were glad to see him despite the drama with Terry. The 30 minute drive was quiet and serene, beautiful on snow plowed roads.
When the chalet came into view, you gasped.
It was picture-perfect, nestled deep in the Vermont mountains, blanketed in fresh snow. Twinkling lights lined the porch railings and they made Bucky, who was standing on the front porch waiting for you, look mysterious.
It was idyllic.
As you exited the SUV, Bucky came down and extended his hand to help you up the snow covered stairs. You looked up at him and he was staring at you with those ice blue eyes.
—-
You stood there, looking up at him, and and Bucky thought, fuck, she’s gorgeous. It was like he was seeing you for the first time again. His eyes traced the thick curves that made his blood run hot, and those eyes that are wide and still uncertain made him a little weak.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from you and it felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs.
He didn’t know why you ran from him earlier in the week, but damn, he was certain that he would run through any wall for you.
Bucky bit his lip and his hands instinctively balled into fists as he took you in.
Your sweater accented your full breasts and he swore he saw the thick, stiff peaks of your nipples through it, making him thirsty. Your jeans molded thick thighs and wide hips that make his cock throb.
There was something about you today that made him want to take you down, but he was going to follow your lead. He needed to see where your head was at.
—
Bucky’s breath made vapors in the cold air and his eyes locked onto yours as he grabbed you, pulling you into his arms.
“You came back to me,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough. “I’m sorry about the other day, Frumoasă. I’ve been crazy since you left.”
You pressed your face to his chest, a lump forming in your throat.
“Yeah, that was crazy, but I get it, Bucky.”
You pulled back and looked up into his eyes.
“I had to come. I love you, Bucky Barnes.”
His hands cupped your face, his lips brushing yours, slow and searching.
“Then don’t leave me. Ever again, Frumoasă.”
You nodded and clung to him, sniffling.
He pulled back and looked down at you.
“Let’s get you out of this cold.”
Inside, the scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air, and the chalet was decorated for the holidays with a huge tree with a massive stone fireplace. The view in the waning afternoon sunlight was of the mountains, and it was gorgeous.
“Wow, Bucky.”
He was taking your coat as you took in the sights. Of course the place was top notch.
“Where are the happy couple?”
Bucky chuckled.
“Their chalet is down the road. Rebirth owns this property and there are three other chalets just like this.”
You thought you were used to how rich Bucky was, but this rocked you. This was quite a world you might be committing to.
“Yeah, they need privacy. Probably fucking each other on every available surface.”
Bucky laughed. And then raised his eyebrow at you, eyes dark.
“It seems the thing to do.”
You grew warm and cleared your throat as he licked his lips.
“Where is my room?”
Bucky gave you an ominous look and moved closer.
“Oh, we have more than enough rooms for everyone, Frumoasă. But I’m not spending one more night away from you.”
Your body reacted despite you, causing you to stutter.
“B-but my mother–”
“--Almost insisted on it when I spoke to her earlier this week. She told me she spoke to you the other day. They are only here for one night, it will be fine.”
You followed him into the master suite, your wheels turning.
“What all did Karen have to say?”
Did Bucky know? He couldn’t know. Your mom wouldn’t do that.
“She just told me you’ve always had a habit of pushing people away when you feel like you’re losing control.”
You sighed in relief. She hadn’t told him.
“I wasn’t trying to go behind your back,” he murmured. “I’m just trying to understand. Because I love you. And I want to fix it.”
You sighed and relaxed a little. Bucky still wanted you. You took his hand.
“Nothing is broken, Bucky. I’m sorry I ran from you. I was questioning myself. Not you.”
“Okay.”
But he looked uncertain. Could you have decided that you didn’t need him after all? That you didn’t want him?
You started to walk away to find the bedroom and Bucky pulled you back to him by catching one of your hands. He pressed himself against you and looked down into your eyes.
“Frumoasă,” he said, his voice almost pleading.
“Tell me you still want us.”
“I still want us. I need us, Bucky. You’re right. I was feeling out of control, but yesterday I realized that what may be coming for us is some beautiful chaos. And if you’ll help me, I’m ready for it.”
You looked into his beautiful eyes, and then your fingers pulled on his sweater and your lips met his.
The kiss was almost brand new, the tension between you arcing like electricity. He kissed you back with everything he had, his hands roaming all over your body.
It was heated. It was urgent as a motherfucker.
And it was everything you two hadn’t been able to say.
“Later, we will talk about control.”
Bucky ran his thumb over your lips as he looked like he had delicious sensual plans for you later. He let you go just as your panties got ruined.
—--
That afternoon, your mother and Ray arrived just after Steve and Peach came over to make pizzas in the custom pizza oven for dinner. After that, you all decorated the Christmas tree around the fireplace.
It was picture perfect, with you and Peach drooling over Bucky and Steve in their fair isle sweaters. You had a lot of fun, and you drank water all night long. You caught up with Peach, warm in the glow of the love of everyone most important to you.
Bucky watched you, curious about what was different about you, but didn’t say anything.
By the time the night was over, you crashed, sleep overtaking you almost before your head hit the pillow. Bucky didn’t complain, he just held you close, thankful that you were back in his arms.
On Christmas Eve morning, some ventured out to ski and snowboard. You pleaded a headache and Bucky didn’t question you, but he filed that away for later. You and your mom stayed inside as you warned everyone else to be careful. You shook your head at Peach’s daredevil antics, but Peach was gonna Peach.
Nico was celebrating the holidays in another chalet with his family and had the week off.
You and your mom talked about a lot. And a lightbulb went off in your head. Your mom was teary and you were amazed that it took over 30 years for you both to realize. But it was going to be okay.
That night snow blanketed the trees outside, and the fireplace crackled as everyone gathered around the fireplace after dinner. Bucky stayed close, touching you almost always, even if it was just his hand on yours. The proximity to him was what you needed, and you wanted to just burrow yourself in his chest. But you had to tell him.
Steve and Peach were in their own world, stealing kisses by the fireplace, by the tree, lost in their honeymoon bliss. You watched them, their happiness so effortless, so light, and you knew that you could be there too, with Bucky.
Every time his hand brushed against yours, you felt the pull. Every time he looked at you like you were his whole world, you wanted to close the distance.
For the first time in days, you felt like maybe you were exactly where you needed to be.
After Christmas Eve brunch, you curled up with your hot cocoa and a book by the window by which Bucky and Steve built a snowman earlier.
Peach wouldn’t let you live your life in peace, because she insisted on recounting the time you two got into a fight over homework when you were eleven. Your mother was joining in, supplying details to Ray and Steve and to Bucky, who was paying attention, stealing glances at you and absentmindedly fiddling with his phone.
“And then she says, ‘How dare you ask me if I need help, I don’t need your help—’”
A loud CRACK interrupted Peach’s story, and a resounding thunk echoed from the eaves of the cabin.
Everyone jumped, looking toward the porch as a massive icicle snapped from the roof, crashing into the snow.
“Whoa,” Peach said, blinking. “That thing could’ve killed someone.”
You looked at Bucky. And he looked pleased with himself. You were instantly suspicious.
“Oh, wow,” he said, standing up and walking toward the door.
“That’s crazy. Totally random.”
Steve scoffed and Peach shot him a look. They knew something.
“Bucky…”
He ignored you, opening the door and crouching down in the snow, picking up the icicle like it was some priceless artifact.
He brought it inside and placed it, dripping wet on the table. Everyone gathered around to see that there was something inside that looked like a lump of coal.
Bucky looked at you gaping at it, and then: he broke it in half.
You gasped. Because inside, tucked into the hollowed-out core, was a small black velvet box. Your stomach dropped.
“Oh my God,” you whispered.
Bucky turned to you, his eyes soft, full of something so deep and certain that it stole the air from your lungs. Your entire body went still. And it was just you and Bucky.
His warm smile and the way the love in his eyes as he popped the box open to reveal a breathtaking and huge emerald cut diamond ring that looked like a block of ice and sparkled like the snow.
Everybody went silent.
Bucky exhaled, then spoke, his voice steady but thick.
“For years, I thought I had everything I needed,” he said, the words warm despite the crisp night outside.
“But then you came along. And suddenly, nothing felt full unless you were in it. Not my house, not my days, not my arms.”
Everyone leaned in, watching and waiting.
Bucky took a deep breath, then, finally, sank to one knee.
Your heart stopped.
“You are… “ Bucky stopped, choked up. “…The love of my life,” he said, pulling out the ring and looking up at you with that devastating certainty.
“And I want forever with you.”
You let out a choked laugh, “You hid my ring in an icicle?,” you whispered.
Bucky grinned up at you. “Damn right I did.”
“Y/N/L/N, Will you marry me?”
A half-laugh, half-sob escaped you. And then, without thinking, you threw yourself at him, knocking you both back onto the floor.
“YES!” you shouted, kissing him senseless as the entire family erupted into cheers.
“That was the most ridiculous, perfect Christmas proposal ever!” Peach was full on sobbing with joy as she said it.
Steve clapped Bucky on the back and gave him a hug as he helped him up.
You and Peach and your mom were cooing over the ring as the men watched.
“You better take care of that little girl, James. She’s special.”
Bucky looked at him, emotional.
“Yes, Sir. That’s my mission in life.”
——
After Bucky and Steve drove your parents to the airport to be in Brooklyn for Ray’s grandkids’ Christmas morning, you and Peach had a good long talk about everything but the baby. You had to tell Bucky next.
But you did tell her about your other realization.
“I always knew you thought differently. It is just so cool the way you can see things from different angles. But yeah, you don’t do surprises well.”
“It just feels so freeing to finally be able to name what I was feeling sometimes. Being labeled as gifted didn’t help anyone from noticing that my mind probably is atypical.”
“Girl, none of us is typical, but yeah. Being labeled as gifted sucked sometimes. But sometimes it’s kinda hot. Tell me about your praise kink and I’ll tell you about mine.”
Peach grinned at you as you laughed. Bucky and Steve walked in right at that moment.
“Oh shit, Steve. Seems like we came back just in time.”
You shook your head as Bucky came and sat on the couch between you two and reached into the bowl of popcorn you’d been sharing. Steve just reached for Peach and she floated up into his arms.
“On second thought I think I’ll let Steve tell me about it in our chalet. Oh!”
Peach was up and over Steve’s shoulder as he hauled her out of the door. You giggled and waved at her as she swatted his ass with one hand and waved back at you.
Bucky was looking at you with a scorching hot gaze, and you leaned over to kiss him, licking the butter off of his lips.
“What were we saying about a praise kink, my beautiful good girl?”
You shivered and bit your lip, but scooted away from him on the sofa. You couldn’t be distracted.
“Can we talk about that later? I’ve got something to tell you.”
Bucky’s stomach dropped, then did somersaults. Had you been too embarrassed to tell him no earlier? Were you going to dump him? He nodded and took your hand, twisting the huge rock on your finger. He was unable to form coherent words, he was so worried.
“Bucky…I’m pregnant.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He pulled back slightly, mind spinning as the room seemed to shift around him.
Pregnant. Buck stared at you, unable to process.
“I didn’t know until yesterday,” you whispered, your eyes filled with emotion.
“It explains a lot about what I’ve been feeling. And I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Bucky dreamed of getting you pregnant, but this was a detour from his plans. And he knew how you felt about surprises.
“My sweet, sweet angel Frumoasă. I’m sorry I didn’t realize…”
Bucky took your hand again and pulled you toward him so that you rested in his arms. He kissed you on the top of your head. He knew one thing: it was you and he and your family for the rest of his life. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“You okay with this? I know this wasn’t in your plans–”
He cupped your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. And he smiled. That’s when you knew everything would be alright.
“Okay? I’m over the moon, Baby. I love you. Nothing changes that. We’re starting something new. A family. And I’ll be by your side for every step.”
He looked into your eyes and saw relief, but anxiety was still there.
“Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. And this time, I’m not going to let you go anywhere.”
“Are you sure?” you were breathless at his certainty.
He leaned in, kissing you softly but passionately.
“I’m sure,” He whispered against your lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
“There’s something else, Bucky…”
You told him your suspicions and Bucky was unmoved.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. But you have a beautiful mind, Love. I told you that I love the way you think the first time I met you.”
The way Bucky beamed at you with acceptance was so fucky sexy. You need him inside you like your next breath. Your kiss told him that.
“I see.”
Bucky stood up, you in his arms.
“Let’s go to bed.”
He walked into the beautiful bedroom with the huge picture window looking out onto the winter night. There was lots of moonlight reflected into the room from the snow, even with the lights off.
He laid you on the bed and you rolled away from him, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. He gave you an incredulous look as you fiddled with it.
“What are you doing?”
You bit your lip, a little bit afraid. God you needed that feeling. To turn your brain off.
“I asked Dr. Phillips a few specific questions about sex during pregnancy.”
Bucky stared at you.
“About rougher sex…” You gulped as he raised his eyebrow. “I forwarded an article.”
Bucky walked around the bed and took his phone in hand, glancing at it, and then at you, a smirk on his face. You scrambled backward and scurried into the bathroom.
“Gonna take a shower, be right back.”
You tried to turn your brain off as you went under the hot water jets. But what you truly needed was in the next room.
You came back in and Bucky was standing by the bed, in just his jeans, shirtless. The fire was roaring and he looked cold. You shuddered as he pointed to the furry rug by the bed.
You obeyed, shedding your robe and kneeling, eyes cast down. You saw his bare feet come to stand in front of you.
“You are trying to control things again, Frumoasă, sending me an article about BDSM during pregnancy. You need to learn that there are times that I’m in control in the bedroom. And I decide what happens and when.”
He reached down and tipped your chin up, looking at you with narrowed steel blue eyes.
“Now, I will teach you that lesson so that you should remember it. And although this room is sound proofed, and we are alone in this house, you need to keep quiet.”
You just stared at him, mind going almost completely blank.
He tapped you on your jaw lightly.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Bucky smiled at that, but then the sunshine went away. His smile dropped.
“And you don’t cum until I tell you to.”
Holy fuck.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Bucky’s eyes shuttered at your hoarse tone, but he stayed strong. His hands went for his zipper and you wiggled, your wetness seeping down your naked thighs. He smacked you in the face with his cock and you suppressed a giggle.
“Stay still.”
You looked up at him, eyes twinkling now.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Now be a good girl and open your mouth. Let me see that throat.”
You do as you’re told, opening wide and saying, ‘ahhhhh.’
Bucky stroked himself right there in front of you as you drooled for him.
“That’s a sweet little slut. Suck me just a little bit, baby. That mouth last week was heaven.”
He rubbed the tip of his flared head along your lips and then groaned as those lips closed around him. You sucked it like it’s the best lollipop you’d ever had.
“Fuck!”
His voice was deeper now, and it made you even wetter.
Your eyes fluttered closed and you hummed around his cock because you were in heaven. There was just this.
Just now.
You tried to take him deeper, but he didn’t let you, dragging you up gently by your arm. You stood as he sat on the edge of the bed, and then reached for you, gracefully depositing you across his lap due to his strength. Your breasts just happened to end up atop his hard cock as his large hand caressed your ass.
“You deserve a spanking for leaving me, Frumoasa. Three on each side. Count. And that is the only sound I should hear.”
You were disappointed at so few, but you knew he was going easy on you. Yet you didn’t try to push him. Not tonight.
Bucky spanked you hard, three times on each cheek, and you counted dutifully, your voice growing more ragged with each crack on your ass.
“Goood fucking girl. You took those so well.”
He reached down into your wetness with two as you squirmed on his lap because of his teasing. You wanted him inside you so bad.
“Fuck, you’re soooo wet.”
His voice was full of lust and you felt his cock pulse pre cum onto your nipples. You pussy was clenching and pulsing like crazy.
Bucky smeared your juices up and around your anus, careful not to penetrate, but driving you mad as the rough pad of his fingers played outside. You wantonly tried to push back on him, but he didn’t let you.
Bucky tsked.
“Remember, you are not in control right now. I am. That is what you need, my Love.”
His words hit you like a mack truck and your orgasm came without warning, crashing over you as your sensitive cunt clenched down around nothing.
“Damn, Frumoasă,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I barely touched you. But I told you to ask permission. You’ll answer for that later.”
You shivered as Bucky shifted, picking you up and depositing you on your back, spreading your legs and looking at your glistening center. A thin web of his precum connected his cock to your tis, and he took himself in one hand as he smeared his fluid around your nipples.
You shuddered and bit back a moan. You were so sensitive.
His eyes were glued to your wet center as you watched his hand almost blur on his cock. You arched your back.
He tilted his head as that tongue snaked out against his lips.
“…Are you…?” His eyes slid down your body and back up to your eyes.
“Cum for me again, Frumoasă.”
You did are you were told, arching as he rubbed your nipples and twisted them gently.
“Damn. So responsive. For me. So good.”
He was climbing on the bed, kneeling between your open legs now. Then he was on top of you, kissing you, his tongue twining with yours as his cock rubbed against your cunt. Finally, he plunged inside you.
“Yesssss,” you hissed. Every thrust made you writhe beneath him. Bucky’s cock was perfect, filling you just right.
Your eyes sought his.
“Can I make noise now?”
Bucky covered your mouth in another deep kiss.
“Yes, Frumoasă. Let me hear you.”
His hands slid down to cup your ass, holding you close as he increased his pace.
“Tighter,” you whimpered. “Harder.”
“All for you,” Bucky promised. Your pussy fluttered around him.
“Don’t let me go,” you pleaded.
“Never,” Bucky soothed, stroking your thighs. “I’ll never let you go.”
You writhed as he held you down firmly, driving faster.
“Bucky!”
You grew more frantic beneath him, and he lengthened his strokes, anchoring your arms to the pillow. His cock throbbed inside you, causing you to cry out.
He leaned down and blew on your nipples and you keened, then he captured your lips, and you kissed him back like you were starving.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “You deserve everything I give you. I’m going to tell you again and again how good you are.”
You squirmed, thrashing beneath him, and his grip tightened on your wrists.
“You’re my favorite girl. You’re beautiful and perfect. You’re so good that I’m going to give you all my cum.”
“Say it again,” you begged.
“My good, good girl,” he whispered
“I’m going to come inside you, because that’s where I belong. We’re going to make lots of beautiful babies, Frumoasă. Now cum around my cock.”
You let out a wail. Your mind went blank as Bucky thrust deep inside you, pouring all his cum into you.
All you could see and feel was him.
Finally, he pulled out, looking utterly dazed, and kissed you on the forehead.
“I fucking love you, Bucky.”
His arms came up around you.
“I love you too. I love everything about you. You’re going to make a wonderful mother.” You were sated, excited and calm now.
“We should tell Peach and Steve.”
“Later,” you said at the same time, and burst out laughing.
“But let’s not wait too long,” you said.
“Tomorrow,” Bucky murmured.
“After I make you breakfast?”
He kissed you on the nose.
“Yes, that’s perfect. Daddy.”
You climbed on top of him, resting your head on his chest. He stroked your back as you felt his cock perk up again.
“Daddy…”
You sat up on him, rolling your hips. Bucky looked at you, his eyes on your swaying, and yes bigger breasts.
“You’re gonna be the death of me…”
You moved to get off of him.
“You’re right, you can’t have a heart attack now, we’ve got a child to think of.”
Bucky grabbed you and hauled your leg over his so that you were straddling him again. His grin was wide.
“Get that ass back here…”
It was almost Christmas morning, and you had every gift you wanted, right there in that bed.
#kyd asks#ask dj#knock you down fic#peach fic#bucky barnes#Bucky Barnes#knock you down verse#art dealer! bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#mob boss! bucky barnes#sebastian stan#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers smut#steve rogers x you#mob boss! steve rogers#chris evans#terry richmond
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Ace x Reader ― confession; stargazing
part of the cozy holidays event
🎁 ― @daydreamer-in-training tags: sfw, fluff, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, jealous!ace
Fire Fist Ace took off his hat, looked up at the night sky, and sighed.
The sound of raucous laughter, glasses clinking, and the jolly music that flowed from the Whitebeard Pirates’ infamous New Year’s Eve party seemed so distant from his perch on the crow’s nest of the Moby Dick.
The Second Division Commander pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying – and failing – to erase the image of the First Division Commander’s arm slung around your shoulders as he refilled your drink, deeply engrossed in a playful debate with you about the medicinal properties of the plants you discovered on the last island.
Ace had finally had enough and snuck away to the top of the mast when he saw Marco whisper something into your ear that made you burst into a fit of giggles.
He let out another sigh as he tried to suppress the burning ache in his heart.
“Hey! What are you doing up here?”
Ace jumped at the sound of your familiar voice, his heartbeat quickening – partly from surprise, but partly because lately, it always seemed to do so whenever you were around.
You climbed into the crow’s nest and sat beside your best friend, poking his bare shoulder, “You’re missing the party!”
Ace shrugged, “Needed some fresh air.”
You leaned your head against the mast, taking in the vast, cloudless sky above you.
The inky blackness was scattered with a million glittering stars, flickering brightly as they kept watch over the ship.
It was a view you see almost every night, but most of the time took for granted.
You smiled, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”
“Yeah…” Ace glanced sideways, taking in your serene expression, swallowing the tightness in his throat as he reluctantly returned his sight to the stars, “Beautiful.”
“Ace, look," you gasped excitedly, "It’s the Sea King!”
The raven-haired man looked down at the ocean in alarm, “What? Where?”
“Not down there, dummy,” you laughed, placing your fingers underneath his chin and guiding his gaze to the sky, “Up there.”
You took his finger and directed it to point at the brightest star in the heavens, “That’s its eye.”
You moved his hand slightly to the right to the next star in the constellation, leading him down the Sea King’s spine, to its fins, and finally its tail.
“Get it?”
“Not really.” He scratched his ear absentmindedly, painfully aware that you were still lightly grasping his other hand, “How the hell is that a Sea King?”
“Let’s just say the ancient sailors had very imaginative minds.” You said with a chuckle.
You didn’t realize when, but somewhere during your conversation, you and Ace had moved closer together, as if drawn by an inescapable magnetic force. You could feel the heat emanating from the Flame-Flame Fruit user at every point of contact – your shoulder, down your arm, the side of your knee.
The two of you fell into a lull, the silence comfortable. Unconsciously, you leaned further into his side, instinctively seeking that distinct warmth only he could provide.
You found yourself looking at him out of the corner of your eye, studying his long eyelashes, and those freckles that rivaled the stars up above.
All of a sudden, Ace turned his head toward you.
You instantly looked away, cheeks heating up at being caught staring.
He cleared his throat, “Shouldn’t you go back down there? Isn’t Marco waiting for you?”
“Marco?” You cocked your head in confusion, “He’s already gone back to his room – didn’t even bother to wait until midnight. Said something about his age catching up to him.”
“You guys, um, looked pretty cozy earlier.” He stammered awkwardly, “Are you two a thing now?”
“Who?” You asked incredulously, pointing an index finger at yourself, “Me and Marco?”
Ace averted his eyes from you, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Ace, what are you talking about? He’s my Division Commander and a good friend of mine–”
“Just like I’m your "good friend"?” He asked, emphasizing the words with air quotes.
A hundred thoughts raced through your mind, but the most prominent one was: “No, it’s different when it comes to you.”
You wanted to shout it out to get it through his thick skull, but before you could even open your mouth, Ace quickly said, “Sorry.”
He chewed his bottom lip, taking a deep breath through his nose as he contemplated his next words.
“It’s just, I don’t see you as a friend.” He shook his head frantically, “Wait, no, I do – you’re my best friend.”
He sighed defeatedly, ”And at first, that was all you were – a friend. Someone who understands me more than anyone else. Someone who goes along with my stupid pranks, but will not hesitate to tell me off if I cross a line.”
“But lately,” his words trailed off as he leaned closer and closer to you, “It’s been so hard not to…”
Blinking rapidly as if awoken from a trance, he backed away, leaning the back of his head against the mast with his eyes shut.
Your heart raced at the way his nose had brushed yours, there for a second and then gone.
It was getting more difficult to breathe – you could hardly believe this was not a dream – as Ace rambled on and on.
“I don’t know when or how it happened… I just know that I no longer see you as just a friend, you know? You probably don’t feel the same way,”
“Ace.”
“And I’m probably ruining our friendship by saying all this, but I really need to get this off my chest. I can’t–, I feel like I’m gonna burst into flames if I don’t say something. And earlier, you were down there all chummy with Marco, and I–”
“Ace!”
He finally looked into your eyes, breathless, “What?”
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
When his lips landed on yours, it felt like coming home – the sensation novel, but somehow familiar all the same.
All of the mutual pent-up longing and desire was poured into that first meeting of your lips, gaining intensity as first became second, then third.
The two of you did not even register the boom of the fireworks shooting off, signaling the turn of the year with bursts of red and green, gold and silver, against the dark canvas of the night sky.
Ace’s strong hand went to the back of your head, startlingly gentle despite his heated kisses as he pulled you in even further, like he couldn’t possibly get close enough.
Your hand traced his warm torso – committing all the crests and ridges to memory – before traversing upwards to tenderly caress his cheek.
As you withdrew to take a much-needed breath, Ace’s lips followed yours, unwilling to part now that he had gotten a taste. He brushed sweet, tiny pecks upon your lips, then moved his attention to your cheek.
His kisses charted a path to your ear, where he sighed out your name softly, “I don’t want to be just friends with you anymore.”
“Me neither,” you chuckled, “Not for a long time now.”
Ace pulled back in surprise at your admission, grabbing your face in between his hands, “Wait – a long time? Since when? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“...Touché.”
Ace laughed as he admired your glowing, fireworks-lit face, leaning in to claim your lips once more.
You put your hand on his chest, "Wait!"
Ace’s brows furrowed, his head filled with worry that you had suddenly changed your mind about this whole... relationship thing with him.
His heart lightened, however, when you merely grinned and said, "I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Ace."
This time, you were the one who leaned in.
At breakfast the next day, a hungover Izou approached a well-rested Marco with crossed arms and raised eyebrows, relaying the news that he caught sight of you and Ace sneaking down the crow’s nest, hand-in-hand, at an ungodly hour that morning.
“What did you do?”
Marco smirked and shrugged nonchalantly, raising his coffee mug to salute his fellow Division Commander, “I just showed the boy what he’d miss if he waited too long-yoi.”
a/n: happy new year everyone!! here's to an amazing year to come 🥂 (also, happy birthday ace <3)
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊ main event page || event masterlist ₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
↳ main masterlist
taglist: @splicer13vex
#portgas d ace x reader#portgas d ace x you#portgas ace x reader#portgas ace x you#one piece x reader#one piece x you#portgas d ace#one piece ace#portgas ace#one piece imagine#one piece#one piece fluff#chibinasuu fics
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Can you imagine, reader being way too needy and whiny and not able to stop touching nico and he would ask her jokingly if she is ovulating and she just scoffs but checks it out on her phone and turns out he is correct 😭
The thing is, it’s not even a joke because he does in fact know.
He knows by the way you’ve got to have your hands on him as soon as he’s in the same room. Desperate and lingering fingers that tug on his sleeves, slip under the band of his shirt to tickle at his abdomen or lower back, so innocent in their touch but not when you’re looking up at him with big, moony eyes and your lip caught between your teeth.
He knows by the way you’ve made him late almost every morning this week, laying yourself on top of him and pinning him to mattress, and he lets you. It just feels too good to have your weight on him early in the morning, when he’s barely awake and trying to force himself to get up, and yet there’s an even bigger unstoppable force smiling down at him all sleepy, face still puffy as you lazily kiss at his jaw and neck. Not even a single comment about morning breath because when you’re like this, so blatant, you couldn’t care less.
You and Nico have always been a sexual couple, often to the point that even the boys chirp him for being able to get it up so often. Hell, they used to ask him if the two of you even talked when you were alone or was it just straight into bed.
He never took it to heart, even if it embarrassed him a little bit. You’re hot, the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. And he’s an attractive guy, he knows that. Plus you’ve never complained before, never turned him down or even implied that maybe he tried to get into your pants too often.
No in fact you were sometimes worse than him. It’s one of the things that made you two so perfect together.
You always want him just as badly as he wants you.
Sometimes though, you want him more. When any ounce of subtly you usually have is gone, replaced by that whining tone in your voice, that begging look in your eyes, that little frown he always wants to kiss because it’s just screaming his name.
Everything about you is screaming his name.
“Where’s Timo?” Asks Nico, a sly smirk pulling at his lips as you drape yourself over his lap. You curl into his shoulder as if it’s second nature, hair tickling his chin and jaw. Then, just to rile you up a bit more, Nico hitches your leg further up, holding you there with a large palm on your ass.
You groan, low and frustrated, digging your nails into his t-shirt and he has to fight back a laugh.
“He’s making a latte,” you say, petulant “apparently he can’t handle me today without extra caffeine.”
Nico hums, abandoning the schedule for Sötis deliveries in favor of turning all his attention to you. “My poor baby,” he coos at you, kissing the top of your head. “He’s so mean to you, isn’t he?”
He’s mocking you, not in a mean way really, but he likes making you whine, getting you to pout and cry at him.
“Yeah,” you mumble, sadly nudging your nose into the column of his throat and he can practically see the way you flutter your eyelashes, the slow blink of them. It makes his stomach stir, brain already fighting to figure out a way to abandon work for the day and take you home instead.
Or maybe he should wait, send you back with Timo all hot and bothered so that when he does finally get home later, you’ll be an even bigger puddle, an even bigger cry baby.
Both ideas sound so fucking good.
When he doesn’t say anything, you tug at his shirt, slipping your hand under the fabric until you can press the flat of it to his stomach. Innocently, you dip your pinky under the band of his jeans, toying with the patch of downy hair under his belly button and Nico’s body shudders.
God, you’re so good to him.
“You’re perfect when you’re like this, ya know that?”
Your hand stills. “Like what?”
He doesn’t even think twice about saying it. It’s so obvious already. “Ovulating.”
You practically jump off his lap, only staying sat on his knee when he grabs your hips and tugs you back into him.
“Why would you say that?” You demand, affronted and he chuckles, urging you back into his chest even as you half heartedly wiggle away from him.
Your cheeks have gone all splotchy and flustered, embarrassed for some reason and he can’t help but laugh at that too.
“Why are you embarrassed?”
Huffing, you go still in his arms, body tense and defiant but you don’t fight him off when he starts kissing at the side of your neck.
“Because I’m not!”
“Not what?”
“Ovulating.”
Nico pauses, caught off guard. There’s no way you’re not. He hasn’t actively kept up with your cycle and phases and stuff lately, at least not checking the calendar you have synched to his phone but that’s because your body runs a strict schedule. He doesn’t have to look up when you’re gonna ovulate because it’s always the same week.
“Baby,” he murmurs, carefully because yeah he wouldn’t have said it like that if he knew you didn’t know. Then again, how can you not know?
“I’m not!” You insist, but even so you wrestle an arm around from his hold, grabbing his phone off the desk and unlocking it.
Nico hides his smile in your shoulder, already knowing he’s right before you’ve even updated the under used app and opened it.
And there it is. The colorful circle marking this week as a potential fertile week.
“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing his phone down and trying to get up from his lap again. Nico laughs, pinning you to him and biting at the soft spot below your ear.
“S’fine,” he promises, “love when you’re like this. All soft and needy.”
You elbow him. “Shut up.”
“Let me take you home baby, take care of you.”
“No,” you grumble “get off of me.” Yet you melt back into him the more he kisses at you, pressing his lips to the flush on your necks and cheeks.
Nico makes a mental note to be more subtle next time.
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the phone call
pairing - Megumi x fem!reader
genre - smut
summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.
cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge
note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33
art credit!
and as always, thank you for reading :))
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-
Bzzt. Bzzt.
The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.
"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."
Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"
"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."
God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.
"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.
"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."
You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-
He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.
God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!
...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.
"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."
"Yeah?"
He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.
"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"
"Ah, no, I'm just..."
Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.
"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."
There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.
"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."
He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"
"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."
You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?
"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."
"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."
His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.
"I'd... I'd love to."
He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.
"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."
You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.
"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."
Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.
"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"
Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--
"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"
He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.
"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"
"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."
You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.
"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."
"What?"
His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.
"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."
"Can we..."
Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.
"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."
"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.
"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.
You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.
"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.
You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.
"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."
You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?
"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."
"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."
His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"
You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.
As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.
"This was... ah, certainly something..."
You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.
"Indeed it was."
"...But we're still going on that date, right?"
Megumi laughs. "Obviously."
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk smut#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#megumi smut#megumi x y/n#megumi x you#megumi fushigiro#fushiguro x reader#jjk fushiguro#smut#holy shit I literally did not watch s2 because I'm so busy but god damn I'm still simping#this was a pretty short one but idrc sorry ;-;
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He is much more older than you || 2
(sorry, this is a bit longer than I intended it to be and no more parts are coming, just your imagination ;)) part 1 here || part 3 here!!
You still couldn’t help but think about his words over and over again. It was hurtful, getting scolded from him was always hurtful. But this was something else, he had rejected you.
“Sir,”
You mumbled, and opened the door after he had told you to come in.
You didn’t say a word. You didn’t look at him. What happened to ‘You weren’t going to stop?’ huh?
You didn’t know what to do, God you weren’t that brave either. Your last encounter left something in your heart. A little crack.
You sighed, it was simple. You decided to not say anything if he didn’t, and if he did well, you weren’t sure if you could control your emotions.
“How are you?”
Yeah.
“I’m fine, sir. Have a good day.”
You mumbled and got out. Almost immediately after you left, your chest started tightening. You breathed deeply.
“Hey, long time no see!”
You jumped, all of the folders in your hand dropped to the floor.
“Oh my God, Gaz.”
You exclaimed, and he just laughed. You laughed too after a while, he was back. You started chatting with him, your mind was slowly losing your lieutenant’s words.
-
Simon on the other hand, wasn’t feeling all settled.
“Oh my God, Gaz.”
He heard your voice, slight excitement in it. His eyebrows were furrowed immediately. He felt primal, raging as if someone stole his mate.
As your voice were dying down, he got up and locked his door. He pulled off his mask, and rubbed his temple quite aggressively.
“Fuckin’ hell..”
He sighed. He knew he was denying it, everything. He was denying it, because that was easier. Easier than loving you. He knew it, and he hope you did too.
But this wasn’t enough. He was angry, hungry. He didn’t know what he wanted- no he knew. You.
“Sir..?”
He jumped up, grabbed his mask and put it on after hearing your soft, delicate voice.
“Yeah-yeah. Come in.”
You got in, a smile forming on your face. You were in a lighter mood, he assumed.
“Price told me to drop these off..”
You said, while giving him some of the documents that you were carrying. He sighed and thanked you, your scent making him feel.. yeah.
He cleared his throat, and you looked at him. You blinked a few times under your thick long eyelashes. He gave a breath.
“Gaz is back?”
“Yeah, thank god he is alive. Would you like a coffee, sir?”
His thighs tensed, and he fisted his hand. Closing his eyes, he shook his head.
“Are you okay-?”
He panicked, he didn’t want you to see it.
“Get out.”
There it was. You knew it would be like this if you ket your hopes up.
A disappointed sigh left your mouth as you got out of his room. Simon cursed himself, for making you sad again.
He was going to regret this.
He called your name. Yelled it, actually.
You turned around in shock, body tensing as your eyes connected with his’
“Yeah..?”
You mumbled. Confusion spread over your face.
“I. Fuck, come here.”
“What?”
He sighed and got up, steps coming in a hurry. He backed you up into the door, and you gasped quietly. You looked up at him.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
He calmly but firmly said, making your knees go weak.
“What am I doing to you, sir?”
He slammed his fist next to your head, cursing at the same time. You flinched. You liked it. He was finally caving in.
“You and this fuckin’ filthy little mouth. Beautiful little mouth.”
He looked up, almost trying to gain some control.
“Fuck it. I’m done playing games. Get over to the desk. Come on now, pretty girl.”
Your breathing was unsteady, your heart was pounding. You thighs were dripping.
“You asked for it, now get over to the desk. Let’s see if that’s what you want. This sweet little face is gonna be messed up.”
He clicked his tongue and rolled his sleeves up, making you mutter an ‘oh fuck’.
You knees buckled, but he held your waist.
“Now.”
#call of duty#simon riley#call of dooty#cod mwf2#simon riley angst#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley#simon riley fluff#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost simon riley#drabble#cod mw x reader#cod modern warfare#call of duty modern warfare#cod men#simon riley smut#angst fluff#simon ghost x you#series
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There’s a First for Everything: Eddie Munson one shot
18+ Minors DNI
Summary: this is a series of one shots written in Eddie’s POV about his sexual experiences. ;) this one is the first time he got head. I hope you enjoy. 🖤 Chapter list found here .
Part one:
******
It started as a normal deal. She came by the house and I gave her the usual.

I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming across her body. Her fishnets clinging to her thighs, her little skirt riding up as she sat down on my bed, shuffling through her purse.
“Twenty?” she asks, looking up at me with eyes that felt like they could pierce right fucking through me.
“Uh- you know what, this one’s on the house. I’m getting a new batch soon anyways so..” I trail off, glancing down at my black combat boots.

“Oh yeah? That’s really sweet, Eddie.” she purrs, her warm voice like fucking velvet.
“It’s nothing.. really.” I mumble and then I see the toes of her converse meet my boots. I glance up to see her face only inches from mine.
“Maybe I could thank you for it. Some other way.” she whispers, her lashes fluttering just a bit.

“What do you- oh fuck..” I let out a needy whimper as her hand meets my cock over my jeans.
“This okay, baby?” she steps closer, pressing her body against mine as she starts to trace the outline of my dick. I’m already rock hard. There’s no hiding how fucking excited I am.

“Y-Yes.” I stutter.

“Mmm.. you’re so big, Eddie.” she breathes out as her thumb reaches the head of my cock under the denim.

“Please. Can you.. touch me please? Do you do under the clothes stuff or..?” I blurt out, my cheeks blushing even brighter.

“You are adorable, Eddie Munson. I wanna suck your dick, baby.” she coos, and my eyes widen as she drops to her knees in front of me. Fucking hell.
“Fuck yes. P-Please.” I whine and she chuckles as she looks up at me with her doe eyes.
“Gonna make you feel so good.” She hums as she unbuttons my jeans, pulling them down slowly, finally releasing me from the prison of my own fucking pants. I can’t help but let out a soft whimper as my dick springs free, slapping hard against my stomach.
I watch her carefully, the anticipation making my cock twitch. She licks her pretty lips before taking me in her hand, stroking slowly.
"Oh fuck.." I moan, her soft hands moving up and down my dick. Her eye dart up to meet mine, a smirk adorning her beautiful face as she kisses the head of my cock before snaking her tongue around it.
“Goddamn..” I breathe out, my whole body tensing up under her touch. She works her way to the underside of my cock licking the full length, making my head fall back.
“Y/n… holy shit.” I groan, bringing my hands to her hair. I thread my fingers into her soft locks, not adding any pressure, letting her have full control.
She swirls her tongue all around, wetting every fucking inch of me.

Her hand begins to stroke me as her lips wrap around my tip and she begins to bob her pretty lips up and down.
Seriously, don’t fucking cum, Eddie.
She sucks back to the tip, pulling off with a little pop, knocking another pathetic moan from me. "Make me choke, Eddie." she pouts, looking up at me through her eyelashes.

I grip her hair and lightly start to push her head down, the action making her moan immediately.
"This- this is amazing." I pant breathlessly as her cheeks suck in creating even more stimulation on my cock.

I hold her hair even tighter and cautiously start to buck my hips, fucking her throat. Another moan vibrates across my dick as I look down at her, spit seeping from the sides of her mouth, her eyes watering.
She grips my ass tightly, pulling me deeper into her throat as I continue thrusting into her mouth, all the nervousness leaving my mind, the pleasure overwhelming every part of me.
“I’m- I’m gonna cum, y/n. I’m gonna fucking cum..” I grunt as she gags beautifully around my thick cock.
She continues to hollow her cheeks as I fuck deep into her throat, her nails digging into the skin of my ass.
My eyes roll into my head as I feel the familiar sensation. “Oh fuck. F-fuck baby.” I stutter just as my cum shoots into her mouth. My jaw falls slack as I pump her full of my release. She swallows around my dick making me whimper again.

She takes every last drop of my cum, moaning as she swallows it causing my entire body to shudder. She stands up from her place on the floor, wiping her lips free of drool and my excess cum before bringing her thumb to her lip sucking it clean.
“I think you almost killed me.” I chuckle and she rolls her eyes at me with a little smirk.
“You should see what else I can do.”

tag list: @hideoutside @hellfirenacht @battymunson @bl00d-puppy @gri959 @joannamuns9n @girlfuckthatwhore @harrycanyonmoonn @mrsjellymunson @little-wormwood @melifluorei-d @mrsmarch64 @avavolturi @munsonsblunt @yujyujj @eddie-munsonsbitch @oliskitten @jessicakennedy957 @costellation-hunter @ali-r3n @leelei1980 @lil-quinnie @asimpforthe80s @phoenyxrayne
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson things#eddie munson pov#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson one shot
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grateful - gojo satoru
"whatever you're thinking of, save it for tomorrow. go to sleep."
you release a heavy exhale, before pulling your arm from under your pillow and flipping over, eyes meeting stark blue ones.
you've always been mesmerized by how sky-like his eyes are, but even more so when even with the lights off, they still manage to glow. as if heaven itself lied behind those orbs.
satoru is blessed, you think. but you feel even more blessed than him for being the only one who gets to see him like this—so at peace and laid bare for you.
"you're not asleep either," you reply with half-lidded eyes.
you're tired, sure, but there was no way you'd find sleep anytime soon. not with the war waging in your head right now.
"tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours," satoru says, bringing his hand up to tuck back a lock of hair behind your ear. he rests his hand there, too.
you suck in a quiet breath, not sure how to proceed.
ever since he came back, you've been holding him more dear than usual, afraid he'd slip past your fingers again. you don't tell him that, though. sure, he knows it anyway, but saying it out loud seems like it'd jinx everything to hell again.
"i'm thinking of you."
he blinks up at you, silver eyelashes fluttering against his eyelid. god, he's beautiful.
"what about me?"
you should be grateful.
grateful that you have the strongest as your other half. grateful that he doesn't need to look over his shoulder. grateful that you never had to truly worry if satoru was going to make it home some nights.
grateful that unlike most other sorcerers, satoru never had to walk hand-in-hand with death. grateful that death hasn't knocked on his door even when the world fell to chaos. grateful that he's still here with you, breathing and warm and alive.
but you're not grateful tonight. not with the battle he's announced in several hours.
you don't want to say it, but you say it anyway, "don't be a hero."
a silent pause, before, "baby, you—"
"no, let me say it, satoru. i have to say it out loud," you whisper.
his hand leaves your cheek and slides down to rest above your waist. you relish the feeling as much as you can, commiting to memory the weight and warmth of it. you wish you two could stay like this forever.
"okay," he nods, shifting closer.
it's quiet enough that you can hear your own heartbeat, maybe even his, and you hope he can hear them too.
"i would never tell you not to go and save megumi," you start. you hesitate for a moment, but continue, voice quivering ever so slightly. "but you have to remember your life means just as much."
satoru's listening, but doesn't say anything. instead, his hand finds yours and he brings the back of your hand towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
"thank you for worrying about me, but you can stop now."
"are you hearing me, satoru?" your fingers grasp his tighter, a silent demand for his full attention. he gives it to you. "i'm asking you to please come home tomorrow night."
"i will, baby." he plants a quick kiss on your nose. "i'm the strongest, or have you forgotten?"
you clench your jaw slightly, wondering if you believe him or not.
you decide you don't. not enough.
but you're not going to ask him to promise you anything either. not when he already carries so much burden alone. not when you know how easily promises get broken as of late.
"i just—." you pause to look at him, really look at him. and you pray to god that you remember each and every delicate feature of his. every flaw, every dip, every scar. "i just want you to remember that i love you, always. and i won't make you promise it, but i hope with every piece of my soul that i see you tomorrow. and the day after. and the day after that, too."
satoru huffs out a short laugh, lips pulling apart to form a smile.
"you underestimate me, again." he plants another kiss, to your forehead, now.
"i'm not," you murmur.
"yeah, you are." he raises both your hands, fingers intertwining in the air. "you're underestimating my abilities, you're underestimating how much i love you, and most of all, you're underestimating the lengths i'd go to just to come back home to you."
it's not often that the satoru gojo shows raw emotion, but... here he right now doing so. he's offering you his still beating heart in his hands—and you take it. you swear you'll keep it safe with you forever.
"just—when you're out there, remember i love you, more than anything."
you're holding satoru's gaze intently, before his' drop to your lips, then back up again.
"and i love you even more than that, my girl." satoru presses one last kiss, to your lips this time. “i’ll make it home to you, i swear it.”
#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#gojo headcanons#gojo angst#gojo imagines#gojo drabble#gojo satoru imagines#gojo satoru x reader#jjk imagines#jjk headcanons#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk fics#gojo fic#jjk x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru angst#gojo scenarios#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk 236#jjk fluff#jjk angst#jujutsu gojo
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━ 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙳
➛ various!yandere!male one-shots x fem!reader

title page┆word count: 1.5k┆warnings: cursing, death, gore, kidnapping, slight mentions of suicide, obsessive behavior, stalking┆a/n: for the longest time I had no idea who “kagehara” was. that is, until I read a long-ass tumblr post explaining that he’s js pre-game shuichi. sorry for the shorter post!



SINFUL ━ pre-game ! shuichi “kagehara” saihara x kidnapped ! reader
⤷ 𝕳𝕰
had been in love with you for the longest time. So much so that it felt like hell not being around you even for a few hours.
When he wasn't following you around the school hallways or watching you take notes in class, he was thinking about how beautifully you wore your school uniform.
Or how your kind and friendly personality always made him feel better about himself.
Or how your soft, (s/c) skin glistened against the dim rays of the afternoon sun. The way your beautiful (e/c) eyes complimented your every feature.
You were so beautiful to him you were practically glowing.
Even as he watched you change your clothes from your bedroom window.
This wasn't anything new or surprising, in fact, Shuichi Saihara, or just Kagehara, does this everyday after school.
The same time.
Same place.
All the time.
But, today was different. Today, he overheard you and a few of your friends talking about going out somewhere.
Usually in this scenario, he would follow you around and luckily not get spotted by either your friends or you, yourself.
But that didn't matter to Shuichi.
Because like I said earlier, today was different.
Once you finished getting ready, you grabbed your bag and left out the front door to your house.
You paused in your tracks at the sight of someone unexpected, nervously twiddling with his pale fingertips.
He looked up, your eyes meeting with wide,
grey-green ones staring right into yours, before he looked down.
"...Saihara?" You asked.
Despite everything that had been mentioned up to this point, Shuichi has been too afraid to even speak to you for the longest time.
The fear of rejection deeply disturbs his soul, so he's never told you about how his feelings... or if he even wanted to be friends.
He may know every little thing about you, but you still cannot even remember his first name.
The dark-blue haired teenager awkwardly put his left hand in his pocket and cleared his throat, "U- uhm... yeah, Shuichi Saihara?" He tilted his cap down with his right hand and stared down at his feet.
"I'm uh... in your home-room..."
"Ohh...!" You smiled, "I'm sorry! I must've forgotten!"
You paused as confusion fogged your mind.
"Wait, how do you know where I live?"
Ignoring your question, Shuichi began speaking again, "Y/n, I... I'm really sorry for this..."
"For wha—"
Cutting your sentence short, the what seemed to be quiet boy forcefully pushed you against your front door. Before you could react, a white cloth was shoved into your face.
Then everything went black.

(E/c) eyes fluttered open at the sound of quiet footsteps against a hard, solid floor.
Your vision was blurry as you slowly, but surely, began to regain consciousness.
Looking up at the source of the noise, not being able to clearly make out a face. What you could see was the blurry silhouette of a male in a black suit and tie.
Wait... what was the last thing that happened?
And where the hell are you!?
The male peered down at you, a small smile grazing his pale features.
"I hope you're not too hurt, Y/n, dear," a soft yet sinister voice spoke out.
"It took me a good while to think of a fast yet efficient way to knock you out without causing any external injuries to your... perfect body..." the strange person kneeled down to be at eye level with you, and that is when your vision got clearer.
The first thing you noticed was their dark-blue hair almost fully being covered by a black cap.
Those shy, grey-green irises accompanied by long, dark eyelashes frantically looked around your fearful figure for injuries.
The dim light illuminating the strange room shone against his unhealthily-pale, snow white skin, making whoever this person was more visible.
And quite obviously, 'this person' was...
"Shuichi Saihara!!?" You screamed.
Or, attempted to scream.
For your mouth was sealed shut with duct-tape. Making all your desperate screams and shouts muffled or silenced.
And for the cherry on top, your wrists were cuffed together and you could say the same for your ankles.
Shuichi had sat you on a mattress with your back against the hard, cement wall. Beside you were blankets of your favorite colors and stuffed animals you thought you've lost months ago.
How nice... you thought sarcastically.
"Oh good, you're not hurt." He let out a relieved sighed and moved a bit closer to your face.
You flinched and backed up as far up against the wall you could.
"I had no idea what I'd do to myself I was ever the cause of you being hurt...!"
A wide smile spread across the teenage boy's face after he said that.
The smile of a complete psychopath.
"...I... I wouldn't be able to live with myself..." he muttered. "I would... wouldn't be surprised if I ended it right there..."
Those where the last few words you could make out before he continued to quietly ramble incoherent words to himself.
You jerked away from him as he yanked your hands closer to his chest, holding onto them firmly.
"I... I know you don't understand why I brought you here... m- maybe you'll never understand... but I did this for us! I did this for you!" He exclaimed.
"If not... If not, you'd never know about my undying love for you! I love you so much Y/n! I love you more than I could ever love myself!!"
His words left his mouth so easily, as if every single word he spat wasn't complete insanity.
Light red dusted his pale cheeks as he confessed his love to you over and over and over again.
Until there was and abrupt stop to his words.
His mood switched faster than a stop light.
Roughly, he pulled you into his open arms, holding you in an uncomfortably firm embrace.
You let out a quiet yelp at his forceful action. Tears pricked in your (e/c) eyes as you struggled to pull out of his tight grip.
He shushed you while your screams and shouts to be released we're muffled.
All your actions being completely, utterly futile.
"Shh..." his left arm held onto your waist as his right hand rested on the back of your head.
"I won't hurt or harm you in any way, dear," Shuichi lovingly whispered in your ears.
You squirmed and desperately tried to pry him off your trembling figure. The tears building up in the corners of your eyes began rolling down your cheeks, staining your soft, (s/c) skin.
"Y/n... do you know why I brought you here...?" He traced small circles onto the small of your back as his occupied hand caressed the back of your head comfortingly.
Despite the lack of a response, he continued, "it's because... because you've never noticed me..."
He sighed sadly and continued, "Every single one of my attempts to get your attention were all in vain... Fuck, you didn't even know my first name until a few hours ago."
A bright pink dusted his cheeks, "But now that I have you here, all to myself... I'm going to so I am the only one you'll ever see."
A large, crazy smile formed on his pale, "From the moment you wake up to the hour you go to sleep, I'll be there."
"And maybe then... only then, you will finally love me back."
"Because you mean everything to me..."
You trembled in fear while weakly whimpering and struggling to push him off with his "loving" embrace tightening. His confession and reasoning was completely nonsense to you. You didn't care about his love for you.
You just wanted to go back home.
More and more tears rolled down your face in frustration as he proceeded to hopelessly ramble.
Until there was an abrupt stop to his speaking.
You froze at his change of tone and demeanor. Your desire to leave and never come back growing even stronger than before.
The mentally unstable teenager released you from his "loving" arms. He tilted your face up by your chin to look you into your red, puffy eyes.
"You... you're crying...?" His dull, green eyes widened in slight shock.
Carefully, he wiped the hot tears streaming down your face with his thumb.
"Please... please don't cry..." he muttered softly, "Don't cry, Y/n..."
Wiping away the last of your tears, he completely rids your skin of his touch.
"Ah, I get it now..." he chuckles to himself.
"I'm not good enough."
"Thats why you desperately desire to leave. That's why I destroyed my mental and physical health spending hours in my locked bedroom stalking your social media. That's why I imagine all the people who think they have a chance with you being eliminated in the most gruesome ways. That's why I have so many lewd fantasies about you that I'm begging to hate my own imagination."
"That's why... tha... that's why... why..."
"That's why... you'll never love me back."
He reached up to grab his cap, lifting it off his head and tossing it behind his back.
"But that'll never stop my love for you."
back to title page?

#female reader#male yandere#yandere#fanfic#fanfiction#yandere x reader#danganronpa#danganronpa fanfiction#shuichi#drv3 shuichi#shuichi saihara#danganronpa shuichi#saihara#drv3 saihara#Shuichi x reader#Yandere Shuichi#kagehara#yandere kagehara#yandere danganronpa#danganronpa fanfic#kagehara x reader
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Kevin Atwater x Reader
You're a little crazy but you're Kevin's @desimarie12
Kevin never expected to get knocked on his ass by the newest addition to fifty one. Literally and physically. Intelligence was working the scene of an arson and you lost your footing and slammed into him. “Shit, sorry!” you landed on his chest and when both of you hit the dirt and he could’ve sworn his heart skipped about five beats then and there. You grinned up at him “Apologies Detective Atwater. I swear I’m good in an emergency it’s just any other time that I’m less than graceful in”
He was gone then and there. He’d never seen a woman more beautiful and you were wearing full gear with a face smeared with soot and yelling at the guys on the truck. He watched you head for Stella’s side and heard Severide call his name twice before he finally looked his way “Yeah man?”
Kelly nodded towards you “What was that with you and my new fireman?” When Kevin shrugged a grin slipped onto Kelly’s face. “She’s single, she’s also coming out to Mollys with me and Stel on friday night” “You saying I need help getting a date?” Kevin asked and Kelly shook his head “No, I’m just saying you look like you’re already about gone on her. Voight’s been looking for you”

Ok it wasn’t going to Molly’s looking for you if the rest of intelligence had invited him out was it? He walked in behind Adam and Kim, his eyes immediately looking for you. When he heard your voice he turned towards the sound and damn if he thought you were gorgeous before..
“Damn Kev, just go talk to her! She was totally checking you out at that fire the other day” Adam encouraged so he nodded, walking towards where you sat with a few other members of the truck and squad. You were laughing at something Herrman had said but the moment you looked up and saw him your eyes lit up “Detective Atwater! I promise I won’t knock you down today”
He laughed “Well first off call me Kevin sweetheart and it wasn’t that bad, beats having any other of these idiots landing on me” laughter drifted around the table and you scooted over, patting the chair next to you “C’mon. I know we’re not CPD but I swear we’re still pretty fun”

By the time that night was over he knew he was hooked. He asked you out before you left the bar. You in turn asked if he wanted to go out the following night. Ok maybe he wasn’t the only one that was hooked.
The first time he officially went out with you he was at your place by five..you were ready to leave by quarter till six. You apologized so many times but he would have cared less if it had taken you two hours.
______________
You were well crazy for lack of a better word but he didn’t mean that bad. You would plan for a month to go out then when the night finally arrived you would bat your eyelashes at him and ask if you two could just stay in and cuddle on the couch.
The first time he was sure he was in love with you, you’d stayed with him the night before. He’d woken up to your side of the bed empty which wasn’t unusual. You normally did wake up before him. He expected to find you drinking coffee or something. He hadn’t expected to come around the corner to you wearing one of his shirts, giving a full concert while you cooked pancakes.
“Well good morning beautiful” He spoke and you spun around, a small smile on your face “I was hungry and figured you might be” this was new for him. Yeah he’d had plenty of nights here and there, girlfriends too but you were well you.

You’d end up at the precinct days you weren’t working with either food or some sort of baked good for the unit. When you worked he knew at any given time he could show up and you’d have music blaring from whatever corner you were currently perched in, even if you knew you’d have to make a quick getaway from Boden when you refused to turn it down. You would stand toe to toe to protect your people, you and Stella took some hits as the only women on the truck and he respected the hell out of you knowing everything you’d faced with a smirk on your face.

Kevin walked into the door of his place, knowing you were there. You had finally moved in full time a few months before. You paying rent was insane considering you never stayed away from him. He didn’t want you to.
“Baby?” he called out and you came sliding around a corner with one of his hoodies on, it falling down to your knees. “Hey handsome” you had a glass of wine in your hand. You’d only gotten off a half an hour before him, how you managed to get home and get changed so damn fast was always beyond him.
He stared at you for a moment before the words “Do you wanna marry me?” came tumbling out of his mouth. Your eyes widened and you held up one finger then downed the remainder of your wine before waving your hand “Repeat that”
He shrugged “I love you. You know I love you. Sweetheart you’re it for me. Marry me” he could feel his heart threatening to burst out of his chest but it only lasted a moment before you nodded “One condition” “Anything” he replied and you grinned “You promise me here and now that you are certain you want to spend the rest of your life with my crazy ass” he laughed lightly “You might be a crazy ass but you’re my crazy ass” you laughed and jumped into his arms “Then of course I’ll marry you”
#kevin atwater x reader#kevin atwater drabble#Kevin Atwater x you#chicago pd fanfiction#chicago pd fic#chicago pd fanfic
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so... LinkedIn au part four, anyone?
Listen. LISTEN. I know it's been like a month. But last week was the ao3 fic, so I'm making good on my promise and finally, finally continuing this au - rest assured, there will be no more longer breaks, we'll do biweekly updates now. Technically, this was supposed to come out on Thursday, but I was genuinely creatively blocked. Anyways, hope you like it! if you need to catch up, go read part 3!
Max wasn’t an expert on coffee, not really, but he’d wager the espresso he was drinking right now had been burned, watered down with tap water, covered up with sugary syrups he couldn’t name if he wanted to, and then topped off with the cheapest milk known to man.
Ah, the beauty of a college campus Starbucks.
Besides him, Daniel was drinking a chai latte (“I’m actually not supposed to be drinking this, I’m lactose intolerant, but YOLO, am I right? George, do people still say YOLO?”) and George, the TA, was typing furiously on his cellphone, his caramel macchiato long forgotten beside him (“Are you flirting with your boyfriend again, Georgie? Your boyf?” “Erm- Alex is just a friend, Professor Ricciardo. And nobody says boyf”).
In any case, Daniel’s eyes were now focused on Max as the Dutchman tried not to grimace anytime he took a gulp out of his drink, thinking that it was surely unfair that this man had such naturally long eyelashes and puppy-dog eyes.
“What about you, Max? Got any boyf?” Daniel asked, voice mocking as he said that just to annoy George, obviously.
Obviously.
That was the only reason he was asking about Max’s relationship status.
Even though the espresso he was drinking was hell on Earth, Max forced himself to take another gulp and swallow it, if only to buy himself some time. He thought about that Spanish car designer with the stupid mansion in Madrid he’d invited Lando to for the weekend, because if a God existed he surely wanted to show Max that good things happened to good people, just not him.
Unlike his friend, Max was meant to squirm under hot, middle aged men’s questioning gazes.
Actually not the worst fate in the world, now that he thought about it.
“Eeeeh” he said, noncommittal. “No, no, uh, boyfriend”
If he hadn’t known any better, he would’ve said that Daniel smiled at that, but his plush lips were quickly covered by the plastic lid of his drink. “Ah, a pity, such a handsome man all alone. I’m single, too, if it helps you feel better. I’m All By Myself, like my friend Celine.” he stared at Max, the corner of his mouth quivering, clearly searching for some recognition that never came, “You uh, you know Celine, actually?”
Max frowned, not sure if he should focus on the fact that he’d just been called handsome or on the Aussie’s question, suddenly feeling socially inept. He knew a lot of people in the physics world - Jos had made sure of it, had taken him to see particle accelerators instead of playing football when he was a kid - but not so many in academia, not really. “Uh… Celine?”
George gave him a weird look, almost pitying, but Daniel was nodding along, a thrilled gleam in his eyes. “Yeah yeah yeah, Celine! She, uh, awesome lady, gosh, she did a lot of work in the, uh, green sector…” he turned to George, a gleam in his eyes, “George, Tell Him”
George rolled his eyes, sighing, but he set his phone on the table as he reluctantly smiled at his professor, seeming mildly amused. “Oh yeah, I remember Celine, It’s All Coming Back To Me Now”
Daniel almost jumped from delight at that, squirming in his seat like a child on a sugar rush, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he looked back at Max, trying not to laugh. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know if you remember, Max, she was really big in the green energy space, uh, she invented this whole new type of power plant… it was very, uh, revolutionary. She discovered, um, a new type of power” he said, his voice jumping an octave at his last words, his entire body language jumpy as if he couldn’t wait for something.
Max blinked, feeling like he’d missed half of the conversation, lost, suddenly back to being in the backseat of his dad’s car after another failed Physics Olympiad.
Was this Celine woman important? Was he forgetting, like, another one of Marie Curie’s daughters and they were laughing at his lack of physics knowledge? Had Daniel read his old fluid dynamics papers and expected a scholarly genius, only to be disappointed? Was he going to tell everyone he knew that the old prodigy of aerodynamic engineering was actually a fraud who hadn’t even designed a successful new aircraft in almost a year now? Was this all a big joke, and he was the punchline?
“She discovered The Power Of Love!” Daniel cut in, laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair, tears in his eyes as he cackled.
Unbeknownst to him, he'd said something so odd and utterly unfunny he'd completely snapped Max out of his spiral.
Huh, that's certainly a new way of getting back to the present.
Other patrons at the Starbucks stared, but at least one or two recognized Daniel by his honking laugh, waving hi at their professor, evidently somewhat fond of his antics.
Max felt half confused and half embarrassed, and he let out a little chuckle out of politeness, although he was mostly starting to get irritated by… whatever this was. He looked at George, feeling lost, and the TA laughed as well, clearly a little in love with Daniel too because he seemed far too charmed by the older man’s shenanigans. At Max’s lost look, though, he clearly took pity on him, because he stirred the caramel macchiato pensively before finally giving in.
“Celine Dion, Max” George explained, whilst Daniel was too busy laughing his ass off.
Max blinked once, then twice, feeling stupid. This wasn’t a… physics thing, was it? It wasn’t the type of get together where three academics tried to surpass each other’s encyclopedic knowledge of increasingly obscure subjects, it was just… three guys in a Starbucks.
Okay. Cool. Chill. Max could do that. Totally.
“Oh” he said, lamely.
Daniel was so delighted he was kicking his feet by now, wiping off his tears with a cheap napkin. “Ah, mate, you should’ve seen your face…” he sniffled, looking like a kid on Christmas as he beamed at Max, not even remotely ashamed. “Sorry, uh, I promise I don’t do that often. Must be the caffeine in my system”
“Yes, you do. And you’re drinking tea” George piped in, his British accent barely disguising his rudeness, but Max and Daniel were too busy making lovey dovey eyes at each other to really pay attention to his words.
What a weird fucking dude, Max thought, breathing slowly as he allowed himself a real smile.
If possible, Daniel smiled even wider, as if in reflex.
Okay, yeah, I wanna fuck him.
They ended up spending over an hour at the Starbucks, mainly because Daniel had gotten it into his head that his first-year students should computationally model the hypersonic aerodynamics of a cow for 20% of their grade, and now he was in a bit of a pickle since he was expecting at least one of his eighty or so students to adequately assume the cow would fucking die, and none of them had gotten it right.
George, exasperated, was already emailing one of Daniel’s faculty members, the Seb guy, asking how they could delete a graded assignment from the applied physics department’s digital database before the faculty head noticed.
Meanwhile, Daniel was bent over the table, sipping his third venti chai latte, clearly on a little bit of a sugar rush as he covered his face with his hands, “I just don’t get why they didn’t tell me to fuck off! They should’ve told me to fuck off, right? I mean- how many days did they even spend on this?! They put the- they put the fucking cow in Mach 5 velocity, did nobody think about the poor animal?!”
Max was just thankful he’d never had to study under Daniel, really. Not only would it have been a massive obstacle to his accelerated course of studies, which his father had personally designed, it would’ve also made him want to stay and have class with his peers, which would’ve been hugely detrimental to his carefully timed life plan.
They wrapped up the coffee date (was it a date when you brought along your TA and only talked about work? Max should really just swallow his pride, reinstall Grindr and be done with it) after Daniel texted a friend of his about animal cruelty and sticking bulldogs in wind tunnels or something. Max just hoped it wasn’t the bulldog guy from the convention.
It probably was, wasn’t it?
George had long since headed to the dorms, arguing weakly about homework, which his Aussie boss clearly didn’t buy for a second, but had still allowed.
As he took him to his car, Daniel smiled at Max, sweet like honey. His tan skin was glowy in the golden light of the sunset, and he almost looked regal, like a statue of a long forgotten Greek god.
The college parking lot was silent and deserted, at this time of day. Above them, the clouds shone a mesmerizing mix of pink and orange hues.
“I had a lot of fun today,” Daniel said, his voice quiet like he was afraid to ruin the moment. “Thanks for coming by. I know it’s not the most, uh… exciting, compared to your big-boy labs and, like- fancy computing systems and everything, but… y’know”
Max nodded along, eyes wide. He didn’t want to miss a single second of this, whatever this was. He wondered if Daniel’s lips tasted sweet with a hint of chai tea, tried to imagine how the spiciness of the black pepper would feel on his tongue.
“I had a lot of fun, too. It was nice to get shown around. I never got the, er, proper college experience. So it was of course lovely to join you, Daniel” Max responded, surprising himself when he realized he had actually had fun, even though it had been, objectively, a waste of his time.
He could waste time, and be cool and laid back, and have people know his name and order in a coffee shop, and memorize Celine Dion songs to make shitty jokes.
He could, truly.
Let me show you I could, he wanted to say, but the words died on his lips.
Daniel stared, still, uncharacteristically quiet.
He was awfully close, Max realized.
The Aussie cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, but he didn’t take a step back. Max could feel his breath ghosting his lips. He must’ve looked pathetic, now, pupils blown wide and cheeks burning crimson for a man he hadn’t even touched.
Daniel seemed to finally get the memo, letting his eyes drift shut as he leaned in for a kiss, a soft peck of the lips with barely any tongue, tentative and unsure. Chaste, almost - silly for men their age.
Max sighed deeply through his nose, taking a step forward, wanting to be impossibly closer to Daniel, to press their bodies closer together, closer, closer, closer.
But Daniel pulled back, his warm hands caressing his shoulders, keeping him in place as he smiled softly. “Drive safe, Max”
And Max, maddened with the burning need for more, couldn’t do much more than nod, watching as he walked away.
#daniel ricciardo#max verstappen#maxiel#my fic#my writing#linkedin influencer!au#featuring tired ta george#oh wait i forgor 💀#george russell#this au is BACK#but also next week is gonna be a looooong yummy chapter on my daniel killing himself ao3 fic i'd go check that out#damn i really have to find a better name for that au don't i#i have an actual name for that other au but i cant say it without spoiling literally the last chapter aaaaah#anyways enjoy this piece of 'just get something on the page' quality writing#yours truly#fish#Also how many of you can tell im not a stem girlie just by the semi believable physics talk 😭
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I need my yuri fix so could I request Fem! Sir Crocodile and Fem! Reader? I don’t have anything super specific for it, but what if reader has a specialty in fashion and Crocodile is her muse?
Authors note: Oh hell yeah. I got this, and I am a god.
Authors note 2: I'm scared of women, I'm scared of men, I question now if I even know how they act. This is probably so OOC. my B pls don't hate me bro.
Fem! Sir Crocodile x Fem! Reader
Tw: lesbians
I love my big, beautiful, broad, Madam Crocodile.
Alabasta is a hot abyss of sand in place of the void. Those who look past the sand find a drought—a barren life of sweat and turmoil. But to the odd few who look into the sand, they find baroque works. A life of AC and tongue-drying booze. The even odder look into the sand and see water, finding a muse. Inspiring the styling and smuggling of expensive and imported furs. Sold to the boldest of buyers.
For very few, the sand looks back and sees you. And you land in the VIP room of Rain Dinners.
Dark eyes that have seen much more maroon than that flowing within, squint and stare. Roaming over your custom dress. Your feet shift, balance switching from toes to heels, then your heels to your toes. You haven’t been standing here for long, yet it’s uncomfortable to stand still. Especially with how cold and dry the room is. A VIP room ought to be fanciful and resplendent, yet it feels stale. The fluorescent shimmer in the eye is blinding and the Cigar smoke is nipping at your nose.
More surprising would be Mr. Zero, who sits in front of you. For your first-ever meeting, called from the front of the building, nestled between card games and slot machines. Haggling new customers with an eye for your shiny dress. Until Mr. 1 came, pulling you towards a much brighter and less crowded back of the casino.
Sleek and shimmery in black. Pointed, leather, Pumps, jutted out from under her cloak. Perched on a small sofa, one leg across the other. Manicured fingers hold the tattered cloak. Dirtied and ripped. Something no seamstress or dry cleaner could ever repair. A hook gleams atop the mess, resting mindlessly. Looking away from the hook and up toward Onyx eyes. You see her eyelashes sink, her face scowling harder. She wants to say something. Instead, she sighs, slicking back her hair and putting out her Cigar.
Mr. Zero would actually be, Mrs. Zero. Though your throat is dry, rugged from a night of flirtatious shots and strategic cheers, you speak. "Good evening, Miss Zero" "Shut Up" and you do.
Miss Zero stands up, allowing her towering form to unwrinkle from the couch. Her shadow circles you as she observes your outfit. "Hmm, this is the little minx that's been dressing my patrons." A finger presses to the strap of your dress, trailing down your arm as she steps in front of you. An unimpressed look dawning your vision. Trying to keep your face still, despite the ache in your lip to crinkle and mouth back at the offense. She notices, glancing to your chin. Chuckling, her head turns to the door "Daz I thought you said she was a good designer."
But your lips just couldn't help themselves. "Excuse me!" Immediately, her hook comes up to your chin, holding it tightly against the underside of your jaw. The threat thick and real. 'Daz' pauses before responding, "Well, she's good enough to dress your clientele." You can hear the smirk in his voice.
Zero stepped back, her hook lowering and hand raising with the cloak, shoving it into your arms. Unraveling the messily folded fabric, you observe the wreck. You look up as she finally addresses you, "As you can see, nothing can be done for the jacket." You nod, agreeing, a small chuckle under your breath at the understatement. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "This can be said for a lot of my clothes. Due to the recent misfortune here in Alabasta, it's harder to get my preferences more accessible." She saunters back towards the couch, sitting back down as she continues. "I don't care about your rates; money is not my problem. It's time. I'm a very busy woman; I have a tight schedule." She motions you forward to the seat in front of her as she opens a bottle of wine. She eyes your dress disdainfully while she pours. "As you can imagine, it can get difficult to look ... presentable."
Sitting down you toss the cloak onto the table, "It must be hard, these are probably the most expensive scraps I've ever held" grabbing a wine glass. "Though you haven't explained why I'm here yet." You hold Zero's stare as she begins to smile. "Certainly, a designer would be quite helpful. Someone to keep up with my wardrobe and schedule. You, my dear, appear to be the most suitable available to me. Though, I would have to be your only client for the time."
You scoff. Right in front of her. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the tension breaking in your stomach, but you just can't help yourself. "So far you don't seem to like my designs, I fear they wouldn't be presentable" In your mind you swear that your teeth just clench on their own, and you curse it as Miss Zero's smile tightens into a thin line and her eyes close. "Well, Mrs Y/N, the way you dress yourself simply isn't my style." You eye her black attire, covering each limb. In the heat of the desert, your showy outfit is comfortable. And the use of color doesn't kill you either. "Miss Zero, what if I cannot accommodate your grey-scaled attire, I'm not sure I fit the job"
The room goes quiet, all except for Zero and the door as she geastures Daz to leave. The air feels stiff and somehow even dryer as she redirects to you "I'm afraid you still wouldn't be able to take any other jobs" she threatens as you begin to feel sand surrounding your neck.
"I'm sure I can figure something out" You quickly retort before you can even think. Though the room doesn't lighten, Mrs. Zero's face does.
"That's just lovely, thank you Y/N"
After an entire career of dresses, thin fabrics, and lace; the leather and thick taste of Mrs. Zero takes some adjusting. Though, after a couple of custom requests, you start to get used to it. You get used to her as well.
You soon discovered a basement to the infamous Rain Dinners pyramid, where you were situated with your own studio.
You'd become adjusted to the Gaudy carpet of the overlooked room. It made the foreign material all the more frustrating. This is something Mr. 3 was accustomed to hearing. In his sleazy attempts at getting free and designer something. Anything really. The flea bag just wanted to mooch what he could off of another Baroque Work underling. Instead, he got a list of grievances of a very tired art student.
You really had got used to Miss Zero's habits. How she spent more and more time at the vanity in your studio. You started your days early.. Something she wiggled herself into. Your mornings are spent brewing an extra cup of coffee in your pot for when she inevitably strolls in. Whether it be for 5 minutes or 2 hours. Mornings were the one place she allowed herself some time. You'd get the occasional measurements and she'd comment on your current work. She seemed to keep on top of all your progress.
You'd told Mr. 3 about the Gaudy carpet, the creepy fluorescents, and Zero's habits. Most notably, you talked about her tendency to wipe her hand on any nearby cloth. It was fine until it was expensive. "Something about the grease and sand she likes to leave behind," you had told him, swearing she liked to claim the things around her with a form of disrespect. He nodded along, stealing a dress shirt or two that you conveniently forgot was there before his weekly visit. You knew he had worked for Mrs. Zero, but it never occurred to you that he also talked to her until the next morning. Leaning over the vanity, you sketched. It wasn't a design for her. You'd had a moment of peace between her incessant custom orders to make something for yourself. As usual, Miss Zero appeared, and as usual, you did not know until she made some noise to alert you of her presence. "Wow, this carpet is quite horrendous." Pausing, you turn around to see her and let out a small smile, pushing a second mug to the other side of the vanity. "It took you this long to notice." You chuckled, turning back to your paper, not even thinking about the comment. Until large, firm hands gripped your waist from behind. Sandy callouses, smoothed over by weeks of your manicures, dug into your skin through the cotton shirt. What a day you chose to dress formally. You sit there, still and warming as her hands tighten and drag down your waist to your hip. And right as they release, you realize. 'She just wiped her fucking hands on me' "Wait what!" but as you turn around she's gone. The second mug is left untouched, and a little pile of sand is left for you to vacuum in her wake. You don't leave Mr. 3 any more shirts after that, not until the carpet was randomly replaced with smooth tile one morning.
Her calculating eyes always scanned over seams and stitching as she sipped the remains of her coffee, now lukewarm. She never said much but she allowed herself less deliberate movements. Exhaling on her hook and wiping it on her lapel. Slicking back her hair in the mirror. Fixing a cuff on her shirt. She seemed to like the silence the studio provided. Some mornings she would button on a freshly finished pantsuit. Standing relaxed, and looking effortlessly elegant. While you'd stand on a stool and comb a loose strand of her hair back. Somewhere in the job you became her personal stylist, some might argue that it's beyond the pay grade of her designer. Though, you believe it's within the realm of maybe being her friend.
Maybe it's the smile she lets out when you focus on repainting her nails before a ball. Or the coffee she sips out of your mug after she's finished her own. It's hard not to get the idea that she tolerates you a little more than she'd ever admit when her visits occur more and more often, evening out to spend a solid hour with you each morning. It's habitual. A ritual she gets very agitated to break.
You recount how she stumbled into your studio after a long day, a unique one where she missed her morning visit. Her shirt was ripped and stained. Hair messy, face angry. Yet, she did not say anything. Nothing nice, but nothing mean. Instead, she stood close as you set down your needle. Gently removing her shirt and 'tsking' at the ruins. "After all the work to make clothes you actually like, it would be nice if you could make them last," you teased, folding the shirt as best you could, maybe you could save some scraps. Turning back to find her even closer than before and grumbling, "Maybe you should learn how to make clothes that could last." She tugged on the loose flare of your sleeves "But you seem to like these thin materials ... and dressing like a floozy" And while you rolled your eyes at the comment, you swore for a brief moment, you almost saw a blush on her cheeks. "Just say you miss me, Mrs. Zero, and we can get you cleaned up." Rewardingly, she grinned, staring down at you, and she almost seemed to relax.
The fluorescent lights were replaced one morning, and you left a small Microfiber cloth on the vanity for her hook. She wiped the metal a little longer than usual, the movements much slower. And her dark and dilated eyes on you the entire time. "You call me Mrs. Zero too much," but you just stayed quiet, shaking your head and smiling. What else were you supposed to call her? "Crocodile." "huh," you turn around. "Call me Crocodile," you laugh, hunching over, forgetting your mannequin as you bump into it. "That's an even worse code name than ZERO". She frowned, a disembodied hand hurling you towards her sitting frame. You were standing chest to chest with her unnatural and renewally intimidating height. "Crocodile is my name" Oh, well, you just fucked up. Giving her an awkward smile, she glared at you, leaning in closer to your retreating face. Your brain short-circuited. Smelling her perfume, your eyes stared at the close detail of the scar across her face as she scowled. Letting you go, she turned back around, lighting a cigar in your studio. She knows you hate that. "Look, Crocodile, not so great codename, BUT a wonderful name name," you attempt. Holding still and holding your hands together. Anxious as she turned back to you, cigar in mouth. Her hook went to the back of your head and pushed you closer to her face. She stared. Removing the cigar when you were only inches away. Glancing down to her lips, you feel your stomach flip. She spares the same glance to you. Then she blows a lungful of smoke into your face. "Whatever." And she left early that morning.
You can find a muse in the sand, and you do well with it. It inspired a lot of your outfits. When you live in a desert, it's not often you accommodate anything but the heat and the sand. "Why do you insist on dressing like that?" she averted her eyes. You did get to live in the AC now, working for her and all. You don't even have to worry about the sand other than the hand marks she liked to leave around your workspace. "I consider the sand to be my muse." Her eyebrows raised, but not a word left her. Maybe you should explain. "Isn't the sand too rough to be thinking like that?" "Yeah, but it's beautiful and hot" and you stare at each other. As you lay in bed next to her, you smile, one of your many smiles. Because you both know damn well you're not talking about the sand outside anymore.
LORD I HATE GRAMMAR BUT I LOVE WOMEN
#one piece#one piece x reader#fem! sir crocodile x fem reader#fem reader#fem sir crocodile#Sir crocodile#sir crocodile x reader#writing request
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