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#i am not shading the people who throw their bras
pjisskullourful · 8 months
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Omg yes and y/n leaves hickeys on his lower abdomen right above and around his cock and she loves that the next shows outfit it low low rise and everyone is gonna see the hickeys
i love this idea so much tht i took a lil stab at writing it while im lying in bed. but i an so tired that i didnt get much further than 400words
hope yall like what i got sofar& i hope i'll have the energy to work on it again soon
its not proofread, im literally struggling to keep my eyes open, dont judge me
definitely accepting title suggestions
This wasn't the first time you had watched a Måneskin concert, in the six months that you had been dating Damiano you had seen a bunch of their live shows.
But you were still surprised by how the crowd responded to him. He could keep them so consistently excited, they were captivated by every move, screaming with complete abandon. From your spot backstage, you could see some signs being held up, and most of them were explicit in nature. Then the bras went flying at him, launched through the air to land at his feet, unprompted. How much had those bras cost?
It was a strange notion to think that yours wasn't the only bra he would touch or remove tonight. This intimate act was offered so freely to him and by a large number of people (you imagined there were more pieces of lingerie that hadn't been thrown hard enough to make it to the stage). They were willing to part with their possessions for a shot at intimacy with him.
Everyone wants to fuck him. This wasn't a brand new concept to you. But tonight the knowledge came with some extra weight. Your fingers curled into your palms until you could feel the nails pressing on the skin as you wondered what they were doing to him in their fantasies.
You had the rest of the gig to move away from this jealousy. Eventually you could keep your eyes off of the crowd, instead watching for the fun little subtleties in his performance. You kept reminding yourself that you were the only one who got to have him. But simply thinking it didn't feel good enough after a while, you needed to act.
You were upon him as soon as he got off stage, coming into this private area, covered in so much sweat that his bare torso glistened. Usually you greeted him with a bottle of water, but that wasn't going to cut it tonight. You threw your arms around him, feeling like you had been waiting days to kiss him. He didn't resist, his arms moving around you as he kissed you back. He didn't prioritise catching his breath, just letting you enjoy his mouth. The activity of so many people backstage carried on without any input from either of you.
“It was a good show?” He asked, stealing more kisses in the quick pauses between words. “Did you have fun?”
You nodded, dragging your fingers over his scalp. “Uh-huh. But the real fun is just starting.”
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You said some day we might - M.H x Reader // pt.3
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A/N: This one's a bit NSFW (minors please don't interact), also angsty and sad at parts. TW for hard drugs, take care of yourselves! This is loosely based off of my own experience, and I am not trying to glamorize it. Ily my dearest @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for making sure it isnt shit xx
wc: 4k
part four
Picture a scene: flashing lights all around you, colors blinding as they move through the room, seemingly liquid. Music pounding in your head, almost as if it was trying to force its way into your body. People sweating, dancing up against strangers. You feel alive. 
Matty dances next to you, throwing his hands up into the air. You can hear screams as the music changes, now playing Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’. He wouldn't admit it if you held a gun to his head, but he loves this song. Your hips sway to the beat, and you can feel arms on your waist. It's not Matty. The fuck? 
You didn't know this guy, but his hands were grabbing at you roughly like you were supposed to. His grin disgusted you. (Not so) politely shoving him off, you dance toward Matty, tapping his shoulder three separate times. That was code for ‘bathroom, now’. He nods, taking your hand and leading you towards the edge of the crowd. The sea of people thins out as you finally spot the glowing sign for the loo. 
“You alright?” He asks as you enter the bathroom. The walls were covered in graffiti, stickers, and the occasional phone number. There wasn't the classic smell of piss and sweat, which is why you liked Sound. It was fairly clean. The sinks were made of metal, and so was everything else. The lights were dim, and the mirrors dirty, lipstick stains adorning the edges. You can hear the faint noise of toilets flushing in the background. 
“I'm fine, I s’pose, just that guy was rubbing up against me all weird.” You fix your hair in the mirror, refreshing your eyeliner before passing it to Matty so he could do the same. You had taught him how to do it himself, saving you a load of time and effort whenever you were getting ready together. Tonight's color was red, both of you were wearing the same shade. 
The stall door flings open as a girl stumbles out, almost falling before she caught herself on the hand dryer. Fixing her bra strap, she wiped the edges of her mouth clean before reaching into her small blue handbag. Out comes a small baggie with white powder in it. You immediately recognise it. Blow. 
While you and Matty smoked copious amounts of weed, neither of you had ever tried anything harder. An exception was the occasional acid trip, and even that was a one off on Ross’ 18th birthday.  
Both you and Matty watch her intently as she starts cutting up lines on the edge of the sink, not caring that both your eyes were on her. She takes out a £5 note, rolling it before snorting the line. Her hair is wild as she lifts her head back up, turning to the mirror to fix it. 
“D’you fancy some, love? I have plenty for you,” she looks over to Matty, flashing him a smile  “and your friend, as well.” 
It takes you a split second to realize her statement was directed at you. Matty turns to make eye contact, before doing something you didn't expect. 
He nods, taking a step towards the girl. You do the same. ‘If you're going to try it’, you thought, trying to rationalize, ‘who better than with Matty?’
She shakes more of the powder onto the sink, cutting two lines for the both of you, and one more for herself. You notice the card she uses is a school I.D. A high school I.D.
She hands you the rolled up note first, and for some reason, you feel calm. ‘This is fine’ you repeat in your head, before opening your mouth to speak. 
“This is blow, yeah?” you ask, looking up at her from your position, which was currently hunched over the sink. It's cold, colder than it was. 
“Yeah, clean shit too, don't worry,” she offers a genuine smile, stroking your hair with her long, black nails. You steal a glance at Matty, who was now sitting on the sink next to you, watching closely. You nod, turning back to the line of white powder in front of you
You take a deep breath before snorting the line. It burns as it travels through your nostrils, and you don't feel anything for a second.
And then, it hits you. 
It hits you fast. Everything feels amplified, and you barely register as Matty snorts his. You feel good, euphoric even. Matty feels the same way, letting out a shout when he does lift his head from the sink. 
The girl was long gone when you exited the bathroom and reentered the crowd. You danced with Matty, the music controlling your movements. Deciding to get a drink, you drag him to the bar. The bartender looks you up and down, before shaking his head. He knew you were on something, but that wasn't a rarity in clubs like Sound. Everyone was on something, so, fuck it! Why couldn't you do the same?
Matty orders for you. A french martini and a glass of Malbec for him. The bartender raised his eyebrows at his drink order. “Who orders wine at a club?” he shouts over the music. Matty rolls his eyes before responding “I do! Why, d’you fancy buying me a drink when you get off?” he winks at him provocatively before taking the drinks from the counter. 
He hands you your drink, bringing his hand up to your face, wiping off the smudged makeup underneath your eyes. That's when you realize how hot it was. ‘Fucking hell’ you thought. ‘When did it get so hot? Jesus Christ, it's like I'm in a sauna’.
Matty had downed his glass of wine in two large gulps, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his your wine red jumper. You rake your eyes over his body, a thin layer of sweat shone on his forehead. His eyeliner was somehow still perfect. 
He was perfect. 
March, 2008 // two months earlier
The mid afternoon sun was beating down onto your skin. The blanket beneath you molding to the ridges of the earth, digging into your back. You were lying in a field, surrounded by daisies and dandelions blowing softly in the breeze, a half-empty packet of crisps on your left. Your arms were sprawled out to the side, with Matty lying peacefully on top of you.
Adam had situated himself on a flimsy fold up chair. He hated sitting on the ground with a burning passion. You had promptly forgiven him for leaving you to fend for yourselves that past weekend, seeing as he promised to pay club covers for a month as an apology. Just you though, seeing as Matty would have abused the ever living hell out of Hann’s wallet if given the chance. 
George and Ross were in the lake located a few dozen meters from where you were sitting, having a swim. The weather was uncharacteristically nice given that you were in Great Britain, land of miserable weather, so the five of you had set out for a makeshift picnic at the last minute. 
It wasnt aesthetically pleasing by any means, with fag packets litering the dirty old blanket Ross had found in an old closet. Ross’ beer bottles were lined up at the edge of the blanket. You grab a pack, presumably Georges, and light up. Marlboro golds, not your favorite, but they’ll do. Breathing in the smoke, you turn your head to get a better look at Matty, who was draped over you, using your chest as a pillow.  
You wore Mattys sunflower shirt, unbuttoned, revealing a black sports bra underneath. He, in turn, wore one of your tops. Specifically, a lavender baby tee with the words ‘dump him’ scrawled across the chest in white glitter. Adam was dressed like a divorced dad, beige linen trousers paired with a Metallica band shirt. You laughed when you saw him, knowing he’d be sweating in under an hour wearing that.
Soft music played in the background, the speaker having been lost underneath the pile of Ross and George's clothes. The air smelled of summer, even if it was only March. You spot the wine bottle in Mattys hand as he tilted his head up, taking a drink. You tap him on the arm, and he hands you the bottle. 
White wine? Matty rarely drank white wine. You brushed it off, it was probably just the cheapest thing at the store. Matty loved expensive red wine, but did not have the money to pay for it, always settling for the bottle with the lowest price tag. Your attention is drawn to George screaming incoherent curses at Ross for throwing a rock at him. Absolute knobheads. 
“D’you reckon we need sunscreen? I don't wanna age my skin anymore than it already has.” he asked, his fingers lingering on his face. His skin was perfect, not a single blemish tarnishing it. “I dunno, I don't think we need to. It's not that hot.” you answer, looking around you. “It's not looking like we have any anyway” you add. 
You could feel Mattys' breath on you, ghosting over your chest. His legs moved, brushing against yours. You were suddenly very aware of the fact he was laying on top of you. It made you feel hot, and not because of the sun. 
He rolled on top of you, now straddling your legs. He was clearly drunk, slurring his words. His eyes stared into yours with such an intensity, you would've thought he was trying to read your mind. His face was bare, but the glitter from last night's adventures still stained his face, giving him a slight shine.
A smile crept onto his face as he brushed his hair out of his face. The blonde highlights had slightly grown out by now, and you made a mental note to ask him if he wanted you to do his roots. 
“Didnt you want to cut my hair?” He asked, and you recognised that look in his eye. Excitement. He jumps up, crawling to get his bag.
“I brought a pair of scissors, d’you wanna cut it now?” He held up pink kitchen scissors, handing them to you as you moved to a sitting position.  
“Are you sure? These are not meant for ha-” “I don't careee, just do it!” he slurred, cutting you off and settling between your crossed legs. He turns and looks at you expectantly, and you sigh in defeat. 
You try your best, snipping away at his hair randomly. Cutting layers into his hair, you try to make the strands around his face shorter. He giggles as it tickles his face, brushing it off his skin. The sun made him appear as if he were glowing, painting him in an orange hue. Trying not to cut it too short, you tug at it to get a good idea of the length. 
A soft groan escapes Mattys mouth, and he tries to pass it off as a cough, avoiding your gaze. A few minutes later, you tug at it again. A little experiment , if you will. This time, the noise is slightly clearer, and his whole body twitches. He busies himself with the bottle of wine in his hands, inspecting the label.  
He admires your work in a little compact mirror you had found in your bag. “So.. do you like it? Or have I completely fucked your hair?” you ask, watching his reflection. Matty grins, slamming the mirror shut. 
“I love it! The layers make me look hot, so you did your job right!” He pulled you in for a hug, kissing all over your face: He was obviously drunker than you thought.
You lay back on your elbows, closing your eyes, letting the sun shine onto your skin. This was nice. You felt truly alive.
—---------------------------------------------------------
Skin against skin, soft moans filled the room. You didn't even know who they belonged to. Desire took over your bodies like a foreign force. The room was dark, the only light coming from the streetlamp just outside, illuminating the space. 
“Fuck- can I?” hands trailed down your chest, toying with the buttons of your shirt. You nod frantically, smashing his lips back against yours. You find his hair, pulling slightly as he lets out a pathetic whimper. You drink in the noise as if it was the very essence of life, tugging even harder at the curls. Curls. Matty.
“Mmh- ah, fuck-” You can feel him against your thigh. You can feel Matty grinding against you. The thought makes your head spin, and you throw your head back, your hair splayed over the baby blue pillows. Mattys pillows.   
“You're so- you’re so beautiful, just let me- i’ll-” he cuts himself off, trailing his lips down your jaw, leaving searing, hot kisses in his wake. His mouth makes contact with your collarbone, biting down. You hiss, your nails digging into his scalp. He groans. Matty
His rough hands rub the tattoo on your hip, you feel his rough calluses. You pull his hair, making him look at you. Your eyes rake over his face, the glitter around his eyes shimmering in the faint light. His hand comes up to push your shirt up, the material bunching up where his mouth had just been. You make eye contact again. 
He grins before licking one long stripe along the expanse of your ribcage, letting out an obscene moan as he did. He was putting on a show, for you. The noise goes straight to your core. 
His fingers snap the elastic of your black underwear, making you jump. A laugh. Teeth graze your hip bone, tracing the tattoo. You can feel him slipping the lace down your thighs, licking and sucking lower, lower, lower…
You jolt awake suddenly, hot sweat running down your back. You turn to look at the time. 2:53am. 
What the fuck was that?
You close your eyes, the dream replaying in your head. Lips, your lips and his. Teeth, kisses down your neck, Matty, Matty, Matty-
You stop yourself, shoving your face into a pillow. This can't be happening. This wasn't real. This was all hallucination and you didn't just have a wet dream involving your best mate. 
Letting out a groan, you lay back down facing the wall. You desperately, desperately needed a good lay. If it had come to you having fucking dreams about Matty of all people, you knew it was time to find a guy and just shag him. That would solve your little predicament, you were sure of it. 
—------------------------------------------------------------
Admiring yourself in the mirror, you hike the ruched material of your dress up even further. Jewelry covered you from head to toe, complimenting the details of your bag perfectly. Hair done up in curls, you knew you were ready. 
You were going out. Alone.
The heel of your shoe clicked nervously against the pavement as you queued, giving the bouncer, James, a nod as he waved you through. “No Matty today?” he questioned, referring to the fact that you were alone.  
“Yeah, I'm out alone tonight. Matty is… sick. The flu.” you lie through your teeth, not wanting to disclose the real reason behind your solo-mission. The plan was to find a guy, any guy, and forget about that godforsaken dream.  
The music was loud, even louder than usual, and you were stone cold sober. Not good. 
Making your way to the bar, you order your usual, a french martini. Tobias, the bartender, handed your drink, and you close out. You didn't want to get hammered tonight. 
Your fingers drum along to the beat as you sip your drink, scanning the crowd. There weren't many people dancing, seeing as it was a Sunday night. Most had work in the morning, so going out wasn't an option. He had asked you if you really didn't want anything else, even offering you a drink in the house. You politely decline with a shake of your head, assuring him it was alright.
Suddenly, a tall man appeared in your peripheral vision. You had seen him a few times before, wandering about, flirting with the female waitresses. Blonde hair, blue eyes. The complete opposite of Matty. His arm rested against the bar, and you could see him flexing his muscles. On purpose. Jesus.  
He strolled up to you with an air of confidence. Turning to Tobias, he asked him what your drink was. “A french martini,” he answered, looking you up and down “and she's only had one the entire night.” The man laughs, “Well that wont do! Let me buy you a drink sweetheart, on me.” 
You nod, turning to face him. A smile makes its way onto your lips. Perfect . 
He introduces himself as David. He works an office job down the road, something something marketing. You didn't really listen to him, only laughing when he paused, expecting it
He seemed solid, and he was 19, so not too old. You really didn't want to deal with another Phillip situation. He had bought you three, quite pricey, drinks, and you knew he wanted more. 
He eventually asked if you wanted to come back to his place for some wine. You agreed, letting yourself be led out of the club by your wrist. James winked at you knowingly as you left.
He had a silver Toyota, the interior a cream leather. It was a big difference to Hann’s beaten up red Kia, but you weren't complaining. He was nice enough, opening the car door for you. 
The inside of his flat reeked of sickly sweet vanilla and cheap cologne. He opened a bottle of wine for the both of you, pouring two glasses. The conversion was mundane, but he was nice enough. You had switched your phone off, not wanting anything to distract you from your mission. He had made a move to sit next to you, his hand trailing up your thigh, inching higher with every word he uttered.
His mouth was against your ear, whispering sweet nothings into it, his other hand finding your chest, pushing you down onto the sofa. You let him move you, twist you as he pleased. It didn't mean anything to you, you just needed to get Matty out of your head. Matty.
His hands were soft, like he moisturized them regularly. You could feel his lips on your chest, leaving bite marks and kisses, but you didn't feel anything. Closing your eyes, you decide to let him do all of the work. You had even worn your only pair of lace underwear, a black number with a little bow on the front of the matching bra. The same pair you had worn in the dream. 
You mentally curse yourself, kissing David deeper, harder than you did before. Forget, forget, forget. 
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------
He wasn't the worst, but at least he tried. You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Laying on his (quite expensive looking) leather couch, you watch him as he gets dressed. He asks you if you need anything, and you answer with a shake of your head. You just wanted to leave. 
A phone buzzes, and you quickly realize it's yours. You pick it up, the screen lighting up. 3 missed calls from Matty, and 4 texts from him as well. 
// Where r you? I’m at your window. 
// Are you well? 
// Answer me for fucks sake, dont do this.
// I hope you’ve died or smth, you’re well fucking me off. 
You sigh, clicking the call button. It rings for a split second before Matty picks up. 
“Now you decide to ring me back? I thought you’d been picked up by a sex trafficker or something. Fuck you, honest,” his voice sounded worried, even tired, if you ignored the nature of his words. 
“Sorry mate, I was out.” You answer curtly, trying to keep your voice steady. Your fingers tap against the glass of the coffee table, and you hear Matty inhale sharply. 
“Out where? And why did it take me three calls and four messages to get a ring back?” he sounded more aggressive this time, and you could tell he had gotten up from wherever he was sitting. This pissed you off. Why does he have the right to know where you are, it didn’t concern him in the slightest, and he wasn't your father. You told him as much. 
“I was out, alright? I'm at David's place right now, and I'll be at yours in an hour, cool?” A moment of silence passes between you two before Matty spits out. “Whos the fuck is David?” The way he said his name made it sound like you had shagged his worst enemy, not some random guy. 
“He's just a bloke I met at Sound, I went to his place. D’you want me over or should I fuck off home?” The second option was just a courtesy, you were sure he’d want you over. You hadn’t seen each other since Friday. 
“Nah, it's alright, go home.” His voice sounded cold, unfeeling. A shudder made its way up your spine. He didn't sound like himself at all. What the fuck? “I have erm.. work to catch up on. You understand.” No you didnt fucking understand. 
You open your mouth to protest, but are rudely interrupted by a faint noise. The dial tone. Matty had hung up on you. Your mouth let out a gasp in disbelief. Fuck him. Fuck him all the way. 
You gather your things. While trying to find your shoes, David comes back into the room. You tell him you need to leave, and he tries to kiss you goodbye. It feels wrong. 
Deciding to walk barefoot, you do the walk of shame at 1 in the morning. Heels in one hand, your purse in the other, you trudge down the pavement. You feel dirty, like you did something inherently wrong.
Cars whizz by you, and you hear sirens in the background. It's cold, and you can feel goosebumps forming on your skin in the soft breeze. Feeling around for your cigarettes, you come across something small towards the bottom of your purse. You pull it out, your eyes widening at the sight. The lighter. Mattys lighter. 
The white letters on the side point and laugh at you. You can hear it. It was even more chipped than it was that night, how did it still work? M.H. Matty. 
In a fit of rage you chucked the lighter onto the ground in front of you. It splinters off, the metal top flying off onto the road. A car drives over it. You were angry. Angry at yourself for even going out alone. For going home with fucking David. You were angry at Matty for being angry at you. You didn't even understand why, but the mere fact he had hung up on you made your blood boil.
The lighter was now in pieces beneath your feet. The white letters, illegible. Feeling powerful, you decide to kick the rest of the plastic off onto the road, hoping a giant truck would run it over. You wanted Matty at your feet like this, pathetic and powerless. You needed him like this, to show him he can't just hang up on you like you're nothing. 
The mental image of Matty at your feet made warmth spread throughout your body. On his knees, looking up at you with glassy, glitter framed eyes. You wanted to take his beautiful hair and weave it between your fingers, forcing him to look up at you. You wanted to hear the pathetic whimpers escape his mouth, just like they did in your dream. 
You feel breathless, staring at the wet pavement where the lighter once was. You keep walking.   
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borntoocry · 1 year
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𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲.       e. williams
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modern au musician Ellie x thick latina fem!oc 
word count: 4.3k 
summary: Ellie williams plays in a band with Dina and Jesse. this night, she performs at a venue in her city and finds a cute girl to look at--Gabriela De Leon. After the show, they chat... 
warnings: not verbal, but mentions of racism. that’s about it. 
a/n: as a latina, representation MATTERS. so i wrote something i rarely see on tumblr.
I also wanted to mention that while I am not Mexican (I'm Salvadoran), 99% of my friends were Mexican. I grew up with my Mexican buddies and I learned a lot about their culture, the language that is most def different than my salvi spanish, and the different towns, cities, pueblos. :)
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Popping your head into the main stage before a performance should be illegal. It stirs excitement in some performers, but to me, it ties my organs into a knot and shoves them right up my throat. I have been doing this for the past three shows now–but I regret it more each time; and Dina hisses at me each time. But it’s a habit I can’t shake, like someone biting their nails or shaking their leg, or scratching their neck. I need to know how many people are in the room (even though I’m still small and my band only receives attention because they’re attractive), and who I should stare at when I’m singing.
I take back the last thing I said–we’re good. Our band doesn’t get this much of a crowd because we’re attractive. We gain bigger and bigger crowds because we’re actually good. At least that’s what I tell myself.
I play the guitar–both electric and acoustic– and I sing, Jesse is on drums, and Dina plays the piano and does back-up vocals. I would add a fourth, but I don’t know anyone else. I’m shy, and a nervous wreck when it comes to meeting new people, so I stick to the same two people I have stuck by since high school. Plus, they’re good enough for me.
“Stop peeking!” Dina reprimands, slapping my arm so it falls to my side. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy and you won’t be able to perform.”
I huff. “I’m not going to drive myself crazy and I’ll put on a hell of a performance.  I do it all the time, don’t I?”
“We’ve only played two shows,” Jesse says. “You keep peeking and you’re going to end up throwing up instead of singing.”
“Shut the hell up,” I say. I peek again and take another look at the faces crowded around one another. It’s a small venue, but it’s packed, nonetheless. People know about us because we’ve stamped posters all over the city and released music with shitty music videos and have opened for small indie bands. People also follow me on Instagram, where I try my best to make people like me; make it seem like I’m not some introverted loser who spends most of her time locked up in her room writing and recording music. I am a different person online, and because of that, people love me. “There’s more people than before.”
Dina stands next to me and looks around as well. She doesn’t care if people see her, she actually enjoys that some people treat her like a celebrity. She might as well be with her big smile and nice hair and cool style. She’s the beauty and the brains people love looking at.
“No shit,” she whispers. She gasps at the sight of something, and I bounce back from her eyes to the girl she’s looking at. “I know her! She’s in my American Literature class. She’s so smart.”
I take a look at the girl. Her brown skin is shining beneath the dim lighting that flashes pink, then yellow, then green–it’s as if she allowed the sun to nurse her, paint her a darker and sleeker shade of brown. Her eyes are green and yellow, meshed into the color of the sun, like it didn’t only bathe her skin. Her cheeks grow wider when she smiles, and she stares diligently at her friend when she speaks.
The girl has on a shirt that looks more like a bra, but maybe doesn’t function as one, either. Her breasts are slightly spilling out but nothing else is seen. I scan the bottom half of her body and try to shut my mouth as best as possible. She moves around a little, shimmying to the music that fails to drown out the sea of voices. She wears a skirt but with each slight turn, I catch a vast expanse of skin that trails under the jean fabric.
“Try not to drool, I think they just mopped the floors,” Dina says.
I blindly slap her arm because I am beyond concentrated to break away from the beautiful girl. She has a lot to grab onto, I think, but I shut my eyes and tell myself that’s perverted. I’ve yet to meet her, to know if she likes girls– to know if she likes me– and I’m already thinking about what her skin would feel like in my hands.
“If you wrote a song about loving thick girls, so many people would come running to you,” Dina says. “You write about girls but most of the women in your dm’s never fit your type.”
I laugh. “Oh yeah? And what’s my type?”
“Latina’s you so cannot handle,” she laughs. “Gabby is very independent, she has this intense feminine aura and you can’t forget she’s fucking hot. Not only was this girl blessed with one of the biggest asses I’ve seen, but look at her rack!”
“Gabby,” I whisper, ecstatic that I have a name to add to her face.
“Yeah. Gabriela De Leon. She’s from Guadalajara, Mexico. Moved to Cali when she was nine, moved to Vegas for college,” Dina whispers. I turn to her, eyebrows scrunched and my mind throwing questions at me to ask, like how in the hell does Dina know this. She purses her lips. “I was put in a group with her a couple weeks ago. She told me her life story after I told her my sad one.”
“And what’d she think?” I ask. “About your life.”
“It wasn’t sad enough.”
“What?” I spit.
“Joking. She’s an angel. She gave me a hug and said I could talk to her if I ever needed to.”
I nod. “Cool. Coolcoolcool. Cool.” I move away from the wall and grab my guitar that sits next to the wrinkly couch and pull it over my head. The strap remains nestled on my shoulder and I nurse the body of the guitar in my hands. I drag my fingers down the thickness of the guitar and tap the very end. “I shouldn’t have looked,” I groan. “Fuck me. Now I’m worried I’ll fuck up.”
Dina walks over to me and lays her head on my right shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” she says with one hand rubbing my bicep. “Just stare at Gabby’s boobs and you’ll be okay.”
I drop my head and try not to imagine her skin spilling out of her top. “That’ll just make me fuck up even more. Plus, I don’t even think she likes girls.”
Dina cackles. “Jess, she thinks she isn’t gay,” she says to Jesse. “Oh hun, she is a raging lesbian. Man-hating, woman-loving, boob-loving, guitar player-loving lesbian. When she sees you up there her panties are going to fall on the floor and crawl over to you.”
I wince. “That panty part is scary. But it’d be interesting to know what they look like.”
Dina hugs me tight and kisses my temple. “You’ll be great. We’ll be great,” she exclaims. “So let’s get up there and rock everyone’s panties off!”
I take a seat on a bright orange stool and pull my guitar onto my chest. I look around the crowded room to catch another look at all of the faces. A lot of girls. Pretty girls that  look like they spent hours on their makeup. And then I see Gabby, who stands closer now, close to the invisible barricade. She’s no longer speaking to her friend, but she is staring back at me. She smiles, and I smile back. I try to speak to her with my eyes, but I cannot even speak in general, so I tear my eyes away from her and look at my guitar instead. I trail my fingertips down the strings, down the grooves in the wood from all of the banging against my desk, and the plug that is already jammed into my guitar.
I pull the microphone down a notch and clear my throat. I look up at the crowd that smiles and I nod. “Do I sound alright to you guys?” I ask.
Everyone cheers.
“Great. So before we start, I want to introduce myself and my wonderful band.” I slightly turn around and carry the microphone with me. I’m no longer surprised that I don’t stutter when I’m on stage. Or sweat through my clothes from anxiety. I’m somehow used to this after all of the stages I’ve been on since my freshman year of college. “First of all, my name is Ellie. I just turned twenty-one a couple months ago, so if anyone wants to treat me to a drink, you sure can. I’m a junior in college and… to everyone’s surprise, I am not a music major. I’ll let you guys guess.”
I stand up from my stool and walk around the chords, trying not to trip. I walk over to Dina and wrap my hand around her waist, pulling her in. She laughs and shoves me off. “This is Dina. She’s the youngest–just turned twenty! She’s a smart one. She graduated high school early and excelled in maths, so if you need help with your math homework, visit her after the show.”
And finally, I stumble over to Jesse. “Anddd Jesse. This one is the oldest. Twenty-three and ready to mingle, ladies.”
I return to my stool and strum all chords, getting ready to absolutely kill my fingers. I pull the mic down again and look over the crowd, resting on Gabby as I say, “If you’re a pretty girl, sing along, and I hope you enjoy the show.”
“I need a drink,” I mutter as I set my guitar onto its stand and grab a new water bottle from the minifridge. I gargle half of it down even though I drank an entire bottle onstage.
“You should go out there. It’ll be on me, just tell the bartender,” Dina says.
I nod and quickly tear off my flannel. I walk around backstage and find the bar in a second. I sit down at a stool and the bartender quickly makes way towards me. He asks what I want, and I say, “Whiskey… on the rocks or whatever that is.” He nods and doesn’t care if I sound like a child ordering something alcoholic. I know little to nothing about alcohol except for the fact that if you have too much, it turns you into a drunken mess, and you wake up with a sick hangover the next day. You can also have the most amazing sex, but that might be a lie.
The bartender returns with a glass and I instantly down it, returning it to him and watching him make another. I shouldn’t be drinking tonight, but I did have one of the best shows ever. Gabby knew all of my songs, she danced and twirled and I got to see her ass failing to remain in her jean skirt.
A new cup of whiskey is placed in front of me and I hear someone giggle beside me. I turn to find Gabby hovering over me and the chair directly next to me. I pull it back and she quickly takes a seat. “That’s a grandpa drink for someone who just turned twenty-one.”
Gabby has an accent, which doesn’t surprise me. Dina mentioned she immigrated to California from Guadalajara, Mexico when she was nine. She looks to be twenty, maybe twenty-one.
I shrug. “I was raised by a grandpa, so maybe that means something.”
She chuckles. “I understand. I was drinking with my family by the time I was fifteen, so straight tequila in a glass doesn’t hurt anymore.”
I laugh but on the inside I’m slightly alarmed. “And how does that work? Were you not supervised?”
“Oh no, I was. It’s common in Mexican culture for people to start drinking at a young age. Many Mexican parents would rather you drink with them than with people you don’t completely trust, or haven’t known for a long time. At least that’s the case for me and some of my friends,” she says.
I nod. “I was worried for a second.”
She leans into me and gently shoves my shoulder. “I take you never drunk with your old man?”
“Not until I was nineteen,” I reply. “He knew I would drink but it wasn’t until I was nineteen that we finally shared our first drink together.”
Gabby hums. “Good to know.” I nod. She glances around the room–at the bartender, who heard her say she’s been drinking since she was fifteen, and at the new set of people shuffling in for the DJ that's performing later. She then looks back at me and smiles. “You know Dina.”
I nod. “We’re in a band together.”
Her cheeks turn cherry red and she shrinks. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I know but I didn’t know-know that you were best friends. Sort of thought you hired her. She never speaks about you during American Lit–not even the band.”
I shrug. I know Dina separates singing and playing for my small band from the rest of her life. She believes playing in a band is different than anything else she has done, and wants to keep the rest of her cheerful duties apart. I don’t blame her for it, it’s her choice.
“I don’t mind her being quiet about it,” I say. “And I didn’t hire her, she’s just been my friend since high school and I begged her to play in a band with me. But…” I dig my nails into my neck to keep the nervousness at bay, but it fails. I feel like a jerk for making her blush and shrink down into her seat. “I didn’t mean to come off as an asshole. I promise I’m not, I just don’t know how to make conversation off the stage. I’m actually a nervous wreck right now.”
Gabby raises an eyebrow at me and lowers it when she sees something on my face. She leans in and I swallow down the bile threatening to spill out of me. Her chest is close to my face and I try not to say or do anything. She wipes my forehead with a napkin that magically appeared in her hand, and sits back down into her chair.
“I can tell,” she says. “But it’s alright, I’m not judging you. Don’t be a nervous wreck.”
“Easier said than done,” I murmur.
“I wouldn’t take you as the nervous person when speaking to girls. Sort of thought you’d be bold, confident. Not scared of judgment. But it does feel good to know you get just as nervous as other people–like me.”
I scoff. “You’re nervous right now?”
It’s hard to believe her thoughts racing just like mine are right now. She leaned towards me, removed the sheen of sweat coating my forehead, therefore she must have smelled me just like I’d done; and during that, her nerves were wrapping around her throat and choking her. Maybe she’s the type to tuck away her anxiety and flirt with whoever’s on her mind.
She nods. She holds out her hands, trying to steady them. They shake about but she forms them into fists before I can sandwich them between my hands. She places her hands between her thighs and smiles up at me as if she isn’t dying in front of me. “I don’t usually talk to people, I’m the friend who stays in. But I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see you perform.”
“And talk to me,” I add.
“Yeah,” she says, shining her bright smile at me. She has nice teeth: strikingly white, teeth aligned as if she had braces, but crooked enough to know that she never had them. A few imperfections scatter across her cheeks, but nothing about it pushes me away. “My friend told me to come talk to you. She said I’ll never know what you’re like unless I talk to you. And I’ve wanted to know what you’re like since… well since you started making music.”
I tuck my lips into my mouth to hide my smile, but as I say, “A loyal fan, thank you,” it spills over and pulls my lips up to my hairline.
“I heard you went to my university, and when I checked you out I sort of fell in love with all of your songs. And you wrote them all, too,” she rants, telling me about how amazed she is that I wrote all of my music, especially since many musicians don’t do that anymore. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but sometimes you can tell, you know? Because imagine if… Snoop Dogg was writing music for Phoebe Bridgers. Would never happen but imagine how strange that would sound. She was made to write sad music for sad bitches.”
I cackle. I down the rest of my drink and push it aside. The bartender casts me a look, non-verbally asking if I want another round, but I shake my head. If Gabby won’t drink–or can’t, in this case, now that the bartender knows her secret–I won’t, either.
I swivel my body so she gains my full attention and say, “If Snoop Dogg wrote music for me I’d end up trying to rap it while playing the acoustic guitar and end up with a mess. I’m thankful he doesn’t even know who I am nor would want to write music for me.”
“I think you’re a great writer,” she says, in a tone of voice that has my entire body sweating through my clothes. Venues are typically hot, scorching at times, but right now it’s freezing. Therefore I can’t blame it on the room, only myself and my scorching nerves. She’s only complimenting me and I’m already melting. I sarcastically roll my eyes. She places a hand on my thigh. “I’m serious! You make me cry all the time.”
My hands resting on the bar counter itch to touch her, and if I don’t, I might thrash my head against the dressing room wall once she leaves. So, I slowly place my right hand over the one that rests on my clothed skin. “I don’t try to make people cry. Especially pretty girls. Unless we’re in a completely different setting.”
Her cheeks fill with crimson blood and she drops her head, forcing her long black hair into her face. I lower my head to her level and smirk at the way my words affected her. “What?” I whisper. “What’d I say?”
She lifts her head and runs her tongue along her teeth. “You’re…” She pauses. Then groans. “The word left my brain. I want to say that you’re a good flirt. I know what you meant when you said you only want to make girls cry in a different setting.”
“Dina tells me you take American Lit and are a complete genius in it. I knew you could piece little context clues together.”
Her hand rubs along my thigh and my knee, pulling my hand along with her. She rubs her thumb along my knee and I feel my boxers become damp. “AM Lit is more so about the history of literature, about authors and race and identity. But to understand whatever the hell they talk about in the 1800’s, you have to be good with context clues and figurative language, so I take your compliment.”
“You’re a smart girl,” I tell her.
“I have to be,” she answers.
My eyebrows slam into one another and my face falls into a look of confusion. “What do you mean?” I ask her.
“I’m a Mexican  immigrant,” she begins. “My parents and I crossed the border eleven years ago for a better life. I was put into English school immediately so I could catch up with everything I lacked in Mexico and by the time I was eleven, I knew enough English to help my parents with paperwork, with translating, with paying bills and all the things an eleven year old shouldn’t have been worrying about. If I didn’t know something, I was dumb, because how is it that I went to school in America but I didn’t know what eleven times twelve was. So I worked my ass off–I had to be a genius, because I fought hard to be here, to become an American citizen. Being stupid was no option.”
I remove my hand from hers and instead sandwich her hands between mine. “I don’t know what to say,” I tell her. “I didn’t have to worry about anything as much as you did, but I do find you fearless now that I know your story. I feel bad that you couldn’t have a long childhood but… I do think you ended up pretty fucking awesome.”
She chuckles. “I’m sorry for dropping all of that information about me. I don’t blame you for not knowing what to say. I probably should have answered a little differently.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. I just suck at responding to life stories so I’m trying to express that I am sorry for you having to go through that and I’m sorry that I can’t relate to you–”
“No, no, no it’s okay. I am beyond happy that you can’t relate. It means you had time to be a child. I’m grateful for my hardworking parents and the chance to live here but I wouldn’t wish my rough childhood on anyone. I wish I didn’t have to translate and fill out paperwork and essentially be my parents-parents,” she says with a laugh at the end. “Trust me, you are happy you can’t relate.”
“Okay,” I whisper. A wave of silence washes over us and we both must feel someone staring at us, because we turn our heads and look at the bartender glaring at us. His eyebrows are caving into the tip of his nose by how furrowed they are, and he’s frozen in place. “What?” I shout.
“Ellie,” Gabby hisses, grasping my cheek and pulling me away from the man. She laughs when she looks at me, and I slowly double over, clasping my mouth to get the noise to go back into my stomach. “Oh my god,” she laughs, “He probably heard me trauma-dumping and– Oh that’s embarrassing.”
I slowly pull away and sit up with a steady face and no ounce of a laugh rumbling in my stomach. “I don’t care, old dudes bring their sugar babies here and say the crudest shit ever. But now that someone is talking about their pretty fuckin’ interesting story, they wanna give people an onset stare. Not even a bit of a side eye thing, just staring us straight down. What a jerk.”
She rubs my thigh and leans in. She props her arm beside her head and sets the side of her face on her hand. “People give me looks like that all the time.”
“Well now that I know you, let me know when someone is being a racist asshole and I’ll fuck them up for you.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t need your help, Ellie Williams. I have had my own back since I was a kid. But if I do run into any issues, I’ll text you.”
“Even if you don’t need me to fight anyone, you can text me.”
She grins, showing her perfect teeth. She nods and pulls her hand off her face, instead reaching over to me and pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Her fingertips linger on my ear, and then run over my shoulders and chin. She places the pad of her thumb on my bottom lip and stares at my mouth like she might just bite my lips off. “We haven’t had a conversation for long but I do already want to kiss you.”
“Have you been wanting to since I started making music?” I ask, to be funny, but we don’t laugh, we just stare at one another’s mouths.
She shrugs. “When I started listening to your music I was talking to someone. But they ended up being a homophobic asshole who turned me 100% gay. And then you came out with your sad album in October and you looked very sexy in your heartbreak-pink suit and I kind of wanted to kiss the frown off your face.”
I begin leaning into her. I grab the bottom of her stool and pull her in. A sound between a yelp and a ‘no’ draws out of her mouth but I don’t fully pay attention. She now places her hands on my chest and I push her hair out of her face.
She slaps my shoulders and says, “Do not do that!”
“Do what?”
“Pull me in!”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispers.
I scoff. “How would you hurt me?”
She swallows the rock lodged in her throat and looks to the bartender, then back at me. “I’m too heavy. I’ll like… pull your arm out of your socket.”
I roll my eyes and plant my lips on hers. I kiss her softly. “My arm is fine,” I say between plush kisses. “And you’re not too heavy. If I thought I couldn’t, I wouldn’t have pulled you in.”
“Ellie…” she draws out. “Still…”
I hush her and pull away. I comb her curled hair away again and smile at her perfectly red cheeks and lips. “Have I told you that I don’t care if you complain about your weight affecting me?”
“Hm?”
“I’d die in your fucking thighs if I could. You could crush me and I’d say thank you. So enough about you hurting me with your body,” I say. “I want you to hurt me.”
“So I’m your type?” she asks seductively.
“Fuck yes,” I hoarsely breathe out, and slam my lips back onto hers.
54 notes · View notes
limitlessgojo · 3 years
Text
Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo
NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship
Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation
Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.
The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)
You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.
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"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.
"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”
“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.
You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help. 
"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.
So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes. 
You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him. 
“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”
“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him). 
You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.” 
You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts. 
Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips. 
"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.
He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.
"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip." 
".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."
"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then." 
"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public. 
He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin. 
After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him. 
"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.
You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day. 
Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn." 
Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining. 
"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this." 
It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn. 
💜💜💜
You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband. 
"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.
"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself. 
But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him. 
"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.
He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.
"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.
It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.
He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear. 
Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.
You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.
Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.
Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head. 
He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined. 
"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.
His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes. 
Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.
With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact. 
"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.
No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.
"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly. 
"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time. 
For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.
Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"
As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it. 
"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."
You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once. 
You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.
But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.
He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there. 
You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.
You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.
Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.
"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke. 
"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.
Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit. 
In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm. 
He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut. 
"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow. 
He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up. 
He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.
He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.
He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.
"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).
You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.
"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out. 
The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.
"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.
"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."
He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms. 
You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."
At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.
"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"
He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.
Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.
He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.
One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.
"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.
He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.
The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.
Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power. 
His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.
"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.
You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside. 
Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.
The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.
You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.
You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed. 
"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep. 
🎇🎇🎇
The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.
Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn. 
"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.
Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.
End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜
All rights reserved to Limitlessgojo.
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The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)
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Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k
MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist
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Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.
Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’
"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.
“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."
The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.
I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.
The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.
It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.
For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.
Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.
I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.
Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.
I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.
But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.
I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.
He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.
Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.
I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.
“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”
“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”
“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”
Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.
Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.
I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.
He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.
“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”
There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.
“That they are, Bunny.”
If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.
Bunny?
I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.
“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”
Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”
I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.
“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”
He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.
“Why do you have an extra shirt?”
“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.
What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  
“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“
“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.
Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.
He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.
“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”
I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.
I was going to have to say it.
Won’t they think we’re having sex?
There was no way I was going to be able to say it.
“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.
The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.
“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”
It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.
I was foolish, too.
“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”
“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.
Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.
Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.
By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.
The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.
If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.
But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.
Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.
That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.
My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.
Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.
While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.
“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.
Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.
“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”
It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.
“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.
I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?
My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.
Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.
Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”
As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.
“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”
——————————————————
It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.
I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.
But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.
“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”
I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.
“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”
That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.
It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.
It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.
I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.
I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.
I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  
“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”
“Which scientific study did you get that from?”
I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.
“Garfield,” I answered.
Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”
She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.
“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”
“Yeah, but I wanted to.”
She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.
Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.
“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  
“Duly noted,” I said.
I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.
I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.
Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.
“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”
Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.
“Wh— your chair?”
“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.
“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”
That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.
Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.
It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.
Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.
She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.
This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.
“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”
“You’d be good at it.”
For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.
“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”
“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.
“Not sure I’d get one of those.”
I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.
“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”
“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.
It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”
Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.
When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.
“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.
As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.
Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.
When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.
She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”
“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”
“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”
She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  
“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”
Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.
“You know, I actually need to get going.”
“Are you sure?”
She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”
If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.
It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.
“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”
One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.
“See you in class.”
The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.
“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  
“It’s not a problem at all.”
She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.
“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”
It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.
“Oh, did she not tell you?”
Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.
“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”
“Oh… I see.”
“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.
That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.
“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”
“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”
I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”
“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”
It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.
“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”
Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.
“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”
I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’
Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.
“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”
But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.
“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”
“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”
“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”
A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.
But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”
“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”
I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.
“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”
I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.
“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”
“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  
The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.
“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”
“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”
Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.
“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  
I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.
“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”
But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.
“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”
“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”
“I can’t wait!”
Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.
The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.
It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.
Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.
I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.
That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.
Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.
I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.
And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.
——————————————————
| Part Five |
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alisonsfics · 3 years
Text
scare you away
pairing: steve rogers x reader
summary: steve rogers has always been someone you looked up to. you always ignored your romantic feelings for him because he was much older than you. when he starts ignoring you, you realize you can’t hide your feelings anymore. (requested by anon)
word count: 1.6k
warnings: significant age gap, swearing
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You walked into the kitchen, still only barely awake. You were greeted by Steve, who was chopping up an apple for breakfast. “Someone’s tired” he said, smirking as he looked over at you. You just leaned into his side, too tired to hold yourself up.
He chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You were so small in comparison to the muscular super soldier. You felt the butterflies appear in your stomach, just like they always did when Steve was around.
It was a stupid crush. He was old enough to be your dad even if you ignored the fact that he was technically over a hundred years old. You knew that he probably thought of you as just a kid.
What you didn’t know about was the huge crush Steve had on you. It made him feel horrible and creepy. You were so young and innocent, and he was an old man lusting over you. He was raised in a time where it was taboo to marry someone that was more than five years younger/older than you, but there he was: in love with a nineteen year old.
“Do you want to spar after breakfast?” He suggested, really only desperate for any excuse to see you. You slowly nodded your head. Your sleepiness was visible to the eye, from your half-open eyes to how you were practically moving in slow motion.
Steve couldn’t help but chuckle and point towards the coffee machine. “I made coffee. It might wake you up” he said, amused as he watched your eyes light up.
You quickly walked over to the cabinet and reached for a coffee mug. You struggled to reach, even on your tiptoes. “Here you go, sweetheart” Steve said, easily grabbing it and handing it to you.
Once the coffee had passed your lips, you felt ready for the day. He handed you a bowl of apple slices. “Is this where you give me a lecture about how important breakfast is?” You teased, gladly accepting the bowl.
A small grin slipped onto his lips. To him, you were the human form of perfection. He loved hearing you giggle or watching you get excited. All of your silly jokes managed to put a smile on the old man’s face.
“I still hate that they made me do those dumb high school videos. They just made me seem like an old man” he said. You loved to tease him about those videos. It was a nice little inside joke that the two of you had.
You both ate together in quiet silence. Once you finished, you jumped down off your stool. “I’ll take care of your dishes” Steve volunteered, already taking them from you. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.
“Thanks. I’ll go get changed and meet you in the training room?” You suggested. He nodded in agreement, giving you a peck on the top of your head. You froze, shocked by the sudden action. He quickly apologized and bashfully looked down at the ground.
You felt the heat radiating off your cheeks as you walked back to your room.
Steve had always been a mentor to you, and you both were normally pretty affectionate. It wasn’t out of the normal for you two to be cuddling and watching a movie on a Friday night. There were sometimes when things would get a bit too affectionate, whether it was a kiss on the forehead or holding hands.
He always left you with a fluttering feeling and a schoolgirl smile on your face.
You grabbed a sports bra and some leggings out of your dresser and got changed. After throwing your hair into a ponytail, you headed down to the training room. You didn’t normally opt for a sports bra, but all of your athletic tank tops were dirty. So, you threw a light jacket over your sports bra.
You saw Steve through the giant glass windows. He was already lifting some weights. You opened the door, and he looked up to meet your eyes. He greeted you with a small smile.
When he turned around to set down his weights, you took the opportunity to admire his back muscles. You set down your workout bag and unzipped your jacket, throwing it on top of your bag.
Steve turned around to face you, and you saw his eyes go wide. You noticed his eyes roll down your body. Then, he forced himself to look up at your face. “I—ummm. I’m sorry” he mumbled over his words.
His cheeks were on fire as his face became bright red. He didn’t know where to look, so he settled for the floor. He was too ashamed to look into your eyes, but couldn’t stare at your body anymore.
“Actually...I can’t—I mean, I have to go,” his words were rushed and frantic. He didn’t even pick up his bag before quickly jogging out of the door. You were left all alone.
You looked back at where he had just stood, feeling nothing but confusion. You didn’t even know what to think. He hadn’t said much of anything before running out the door.
You slung your bag over your shoulder and went back to your room. You set your stuff back on your bed and heard people talking outside your door. You peeked out the door and saw Steve talking to Tony, Nat, Wanda, and Sam, who were all sitting on the couch.
You kept your door only cracked open, so they couldn’t see you. “Oh come on. Just tell her how you feel. It’s better than running around avoiding her” Natasha told him. Steve put his head in his hands. He had no idea what to do.
“She probably knows anyway. You aren’t exactly the most subtle. You two and your little movie nights” Sam said, chuckling. You wondered if Steve liked you and that’s what they were talking about. “You knew about that?” Steve’s cheeks became an even darker shade of red.
You could hear Wanda and Natasha whispering to each other about how cute you both looked when you were cuddling. You could feel your heart racing.
Did Steve really like you?
“Come on, Cap. How do you feel about her? Do you love her?” Tony asked, aiming for a serious answer.
The room was quiet for a moment. You thought they could hear your heart pounding as it rang in your ears. You stepped into the room, so you could hear better. They all saw you, but didn’t make any gesture so Steve wouldn’t know.
“Of course I’m in love in her. I think about her all the time. How could I not? She's the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and I love being around her. I love how she giggles when she tells jokes, and how she gets flustered when anyone compliments her. But at the end of the day, I am so much older than she is. She’d probably think I’m a creepy old man if she knew how I felt. She definitely doesn’t feel the same way, so what the fuck am I supposed to do?” He asked, running his hand through his blonde hair.
You couldn’t form the words to respond.
“Steve?” your voice sounded weak and vulnerable. He spun around and met your eyes. You saw the panic wash through him. “Oh shit” he mumbled to himself.
You could only think of one thing to say. “Is all of that true?” You asked him, still having a hard time believing. He nodded, but hung his head in shame.
“We’ll give you both a minute” Wanda said, before they all exited the room. You walked closer to Steve, but he still couldn’t look you in the eye. “Look at me” you said, softly.
His big blue eyes met yours, and you could see all of his worry. “So do you think I’m creepy yet?” His voice broke. You let your fingers slip through his, interlacing your hands. His eyes darted to your hands.
“I don’t think you’re creepy. I think you’re kind of cute” you said, bashfully. He tilted his head towards the side, confused by your words.
You watched his eyes glance down at your lips. “Can you just kiss me already?” You practically begged him. He chuckled before slipping his arms around your waist. He leaned in and slowly connected your lips.
He hesitantly pressed his lips against yours. Your grinned as you noticed his nervousness. You slid your tongue against his bottom lip, encouraging him.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the ends of his hair. You both pulled away as you heard whistling. You looked over your shoulder and saw Sam watching you both.
“Come on, let’s go” Steve said, taking your hand and pulling you towards your room.
Sam wolf whistled again at the both of you. “Ignore him” Steve whispered in your ear, before closing the door behind you.
You laid down on your bed and pulled him down with you. “How about we watch a movie?” You suggested, running your fingers through his hair.
He nodded his head before adjusting himself on the bed. He sat with his back against the headboard, and let you sit in between his legs with your back against his chest.
You ran your fingers up and down his legs beside you as you started the movie. He pressed a kiss to your temple.
“So why did you run out of the training room this morning?” You asked, glancing back at him. He chuckled to himself before answering you. “The sight of you in that sports bra. I felt like a creep ogling at you. I knew I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to freak you out” he told you, scratching the back of your neck.
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “I wish you would’ve told me that. I was having a hard time not staring you, Mr. Muscles” you teased, leaning into his touch.
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bugsy-maria · 3 years
Text
Chat Noir x Reader Part 2
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I didn't bother to fight back, it was almost like Chat telling me that he hated me drained me of all of the energy I had and more. I saw as the Akuma delicately landed on my collar. the collar never was a part of the main costume but instead, it was added by me because I liked the look of it.
the Akuma vanished and Hawk Moth's voice filled my head.
"Dark Fang, I am hawkmoth. I will grant you the power to make the world that had wronged you countless times your own playground."
I felt the clothing that I wore disappear into new tight clothing. my tube top turned into a strapless bra with a ribcage design.  a corset pinched my sides gently and was blended into a short puffy black skirt. I had no shoes only thigh-high socks. and my hair was no longer long and puffy but instead a short bob. the leather band of the collar was turned into just a string that held a now white metal disk with the name, 'Togo' engraved on the back. I touched my hair, feeling a different sensation on my scalp, there were now soft ears atop my hair.
it was now that I took in what Hawkmoth said. "the world that had wronged you countless times" he was right. I was nothing but good to other people and all I got was nothing. the world took my family away from me, the world took Chat away from me, the world made me who I am but the world hates who I am.
I stand up, rain and hail falling harder that it starts to break car windows. the world needs to start over again to fix what has been down. people have ruined the world, humans have stained the world with the worst things imaginable. everyone except Adrien. Adrien did no wrong. he doesn't deserve to be punished. I swiftly make my way to Adrien's home. jumping up to a long-forgotten open window. I run through the halls till I reach Adrien's all too familiar door.
I open it to see him with his hands tangled in his blonde locks as he sat at his desk.
"Adrien," I spoke up, causing him to shoot up from his original position at his desk.
"Togo? what are you doing here?"
"I'm not Togo, I'm Dark Fang now."
"You're akumatized?!" his eyes widened.
"Mmmm." I hummed taking my seat at his bed. "And you know what? it's you're fault." I smiled at him.
"What did I do?"
"You told me to tell that guy that I loved him," I paused to stare at the scared look on his face. "He hates me now, he said that he loves Ladybug too much." I got on all fours on his bed and crawled my way over to him, causing him to back up.
"(Y/N)!?" he pushed the chair in front of him.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Adrien, I'm going to save you."
"I don't need to be saved by a villain." his voice now stern.
"But we could watch the world go back the way it was before!" I started to get angry at him, my voice getting rougher. I mean why would he rather die with all these people who do wrong, than come and stay safe with me.
"I'm not going anywhere with you!"
"Fine, hope you have fun drowning Adrien." I unemotionally said. I blew harsh winds so strong that they broke windows all over the world. rain rushed into the room as I jumped out of his room and onto a nearby building. I watched it from the Montparnasse Tower. thunder was now heard everywhere, and the only source of light for this half of the earth. I sat and watched as the world flooded below me.
I stuck out my hand in front of me and grew a single intense red rose out of it. I picked the flower from my palm and rolled it in between my fingertips.
"Togo! You need to stop this!" I heard Ladybug shout. I increased the wind at her, blowing her off the tower.
"Togo! Don't take it out on her!" I heard Chat shout at me, and his feet running after Ladybug. I looked at the rose then at the now flooded city below me. the rain stops as the sun comes out, the sun evaporates the water below us. the heat is ineffective to me, but when I look at LAdybug and Chat Noir I see that they are sweating so much that they could barely walk at a normal pace.
I raise my hand at them and flick cool air in their direction, I kept the air blowing at them to keep them from dying. they were the only friends I had, even if they did hate me.
"Why are you helping us?" Ladybug asked, swinging her Yo-yo ready to attack in case I did. her lucky charm long forgotten in the corner of the rooftop.
"You are my only friends left, thought we could share this new world."
"We aren't your friends anymore." I looked at Ladybug, then at the chat. his face showed that of regret. he must have known that he was the reason for this right?
"When I don't need you here anymore," venom leaked off of my words. I clenched my fist tight, taking the air away from her. her hands flew up to her neck, her yo-yo falling to the ground. I quickly used my wind to blow it to me. the sounds of her choking on her blood filling lungs were getting annoying but I knew it wouldn't be long before those sounds would stop.
"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!" I heard Chat scream his lungs out, he quickly caught Ladybug's head when she fell. I saw the tears fall down his face. the love of my life was crying over the death of another girl. the love of my life was crying over the death of another girl because of me. I caused those tears. I'm the reason for his pain. the pain he put me through, I am now putting him through.
suddenly I stopped seeing the world in black and white, the good and bad. I saw what I saw before, shades of grey. I had managed to fight off the Akuma with my feeling, I felt tears falling on my face upon seeing chat noir cry and Ladybug dead. the only friends I had besides Adrian and Marinette. I knew I wouldn't have much time left, but I couldn't break my Akuma because then it would go to Chat. I had to try the lucky charm.
I looked in my hand with my blurry vision, it was her yo-yo. I used the yo-yo to try and grab the lucky charm that lays on the other side of the building, I knew I didn't have the time to walk across. the lucky charm got to me. I could only pray that it would work for me too. Ladybug and I both have the power of creation after all.
"Stop! You'll never-" he cut himself off once he saw me. once he saw how broken I was, how I was showing emotion, and how the tears that spilled from my eyes and onto my cheeks were genuine.
"Pray that it works." I stared into his eyes and I knew that once I said that and once he saw the lucky charm in my hands he knew what I was talking about. "My collar, Lucky charm!" I shouted, throwing the object into the air. I saw ladybugs shoot out. the mess I made disappearing.
Black and White.
I saw as ladybugs repaired the beginnings of the new beginning.
"Cataclysm!" I heard from behind me, I turned around to see Chat holding out his hand. he reached out and before I could move he caught my collar. I fell to the ground, suddenly feeling dizzy, while I watched my clothing slowly disappear and turn back to what it was before. I looked around me to see Ladybug and Chat staring at me.
"I'm so sorry, and I know that no matter how much I say it nothing will get any better." my voice was shaky and broke during the sentence.
"It's ok Togo." Ladybug kneeled in front of me.
"Don't call me that, I don't deserve it," I said, standing up, keeping my head hung low.
"Then what do you want us to call you?" I heard Chat say from in front of me.
"You won't be calling me anything kitty." I smiled up at him, "besides I have to go now. Meet you guys at our spot? regular time?" I asked hopefully. they nodded and I fell from the building. my wind gently carrying me down to the ground. I ran to an alley.
"Balto, stop running," I mumbled lowly. I walked back to my flat near the Eiffel Tower. I quickly grabbed the box that my miraculous came in. "Goodbye friend." I smiled at Balto. a gray wolf kwamii. I slid the bracelet off my wrist and placed it in the box. I left my home, making my way to the spot we always met at, with no intention of meeting them.
~~~~~~~~~~
the walk home felt like decades. I tread up the stairs of the building I lived in. I took out my keys and unlocked my door. I turned on the lights to my empty home. I walked over to my room, wanting nothing more than to sleep.
I pushed open my bedroom door, the lights still on from when I left. but this time something was different. there was an all too familiar black kitty in my room, rummaging around my desk drawers.
"Kitty?" I clearly didn't think of my words carefully.
"Ahh!" his head quickly shot up as he pushed the drawer closed. "Togo, there you are."
"I told you to stop calling me that." I slumped on my bed still facing him. "And how do you know who I am!?" my eyes widened once the situation dawned upon me.
"A little birdy told me who you were." he rubbed the back of his neck. "Anyway, brought something of yours." he sat at my desk chair, placing the box I just got rid of on my desk.
"I returned it."
"And I'm returning it."
"I don't want it."
"Why not?" we were glaring into each other's eyes.
"Did you not see what happened today?"
"We all have those days."
"No one has this kind of day. I was weak and vulnerable. I killed Ladybug!"
"Dark Fang killed Ladybug."
"I am Dark Fang! and it's not like either of you guys want me to be on your team anymore anyway. You hate me and I'm not your guys' friend anymore."
"I didn't mean that." he walked over to me, taking a seat next to me on my bed.
"Sure seemed like you did."
"I was just angry that you were right is all. Ladybug doesn't like me back but I still keep trying no matter how little hope I had. I just hated that you always had that hope, you never once had a bad day. at least that's what I thought."
"it's always been Ladybug and Chat noir. there was never room for me."
"I do like the sound of Chat noir and his two ladies." he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, the touch setting flames to my skin. "Don't you?"
"Only if I can be your only lady," I replied cockily.
"Sure, but would you love me because I'm your best friend or because I'm Chat Noir?"
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@laic2299 @aproudfangirl13
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spooky-z · 4 years
Text
Bombshell Dupain-Cheng
1.3K
Maribat by @ozmav​
Buff!Marinette
To say that they were surprised was to belittle the current situation of Ms. Bustier's class.
And Dupont.
Nobody was prepared for that slap - not literal - in the face that was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
Look, it's not that Dupain-Cheng was ugly. No! The girl was beautiful. She was in the top five of the most beautiful in Dupont of all at school, kind, sweet and boy, the girl was skilled. In other words: she was a total of '10/10 I would marry'.
So why did everyone stop in shock to see the ‘Dupont Cupcake’ standing on the sidewalk talking to two young man happily? This shouldn't be a shocking scene.
To answer this question, a visit to the past (five months ago) will be necessary.
FLASHBACK
"Good morning, Dupont students." Principal Damocles greeted everyone. The students had been gathered in the auditorium for an important announcement. "I know that many here are confused by this sudden change in routine, but I won't be long on what I have to say."
He looked to the side, probably someone backstage reporting something, and then looked back at the students.
“Well, as many or all of you know, Paris, because of the frequent attacks by Hawkmoth and consequently, his akumas, inserted a bill for all public and government buildings to be renovated in order to provide greater protection to citizens of our city." Damocles watches students and teachers nod positively. “This project has been acting steadily and cautiously for a while, there is a queue and, finally, Dupont's turn has come. What I have to say is that in a month, Dupont will be temporarily closed for renovation and classes will be online.”
The lively buzz of teenagers does not go unnoticed by teachers.
“Classes will be suspended for three months, but you will still be charged to attend classes online. Otherwise it will be the same as missing class.”
END OF FLASHBACK
Now, because of this, many decided to travel since it was possible to attend classes with access to the internet and a computer.
And that was the case with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who was not spotted on the streets of Paris once after the last day in Dupont.
(This seemed kind of stalking, but many asked about her at the Dupain-Cheng bakery and the parents' response was that she was going to be staying with an aunt somewhere in the Pacific.)
She didn't even show up on the first day back to school, no one in her class knowing about her whereabouts.
Until that moment.
Then back to the shock; the case is, when the bell rang and everyone ran off to go home, the blessed image of Marinette Dupain-Cheng in sports attire greeted them.
It is as it was said before: it is not that the old Marinette was ugly, but that the current one was a complete bombshell.
She did not seem to notice the attention she was receiving, both from the students and from the people who passed by her and her friends(?) on the sidewalk.
Wearing a black sports bra with pink asymmetrical details, a black legging with a thick pink line on the sides and simple black running shoes.
A small bottle of water with a ladybug theme in hand completed the look.
Now, it’s not like they’ve never seen her wearing gym clothes or showing skin outside her legs and arms. No. The problem was the muscles, the tanned skin, long hair in a sloppy braid and the sudden growth spurt.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng disappeared three months ago, only to come back 6'1 with thick legs (that legging seemed to suffer), outlined belly (was that a 6 pack?!) and strong biceps.
And even though she was no longer that delicate little girl, her beauty only tripled with these changes. Dupont would not know how to deal with this new reality.
"MARI!"
"NETTE!"
Two figures ran past the students, throwing themselves at Dupain-Cheng, who did not seem at all bothered by the impact of having to hold two people in her arms. Without letting the bottle fall to the floor.
"We missed you!" Chloe Bourgeois whimpered shrilly; her head hidden in the brunette's neck.
Marinette laughed happily, her right forearm supporting the blonde girl to remain clinging like a koala. "You saw me yesterday, Quennie!"
"But I didn't and you didn't even come to class today!" Alix Kubdel snorted; her position was Bourgeois' mirror on Dupain-Cheng’s left arm. "I had to put up with your fan club asking every minute about you."
Dupain-Cheng had to lift her chin in order to kiss the girl's cheek tenderly. "I know. I'm sorry, Al, but I had a horrible jet lag. Lu and Dames had to get me out of bed or I would sleep 24 hours.”
Alix pouted, but the flushed cheeks showed that she was not displeased.
"It is good to know that I am also important." Luka coughed and Chloe, still keeping her face on Marinette's neck, showed her middle finger. “Wow, do you see Dames?! We woke up Mari to pick them up from school and what did we receive as a thank you? Only disgust.”
Damian covered his mouth so that no one could see the smile. “That's what I say, let's kidnap Minette and flee to a lost island in the middle of the Atlantic. The perfect life."
"And we hunt you down to the end of the world." Alix warns, making Luka laugh. "You can let me down, Nette." She murmurs, adjusting her clothes when Marinette puts her back down.
Chloe with no signs of going down in the near future. "She slept." Marinette explained when she noticed Alix's eyes.
"Chloe came to class thinking that you would come, but spent the classes trying not to sleep." Alix strokes the bare skin of the blonde's leg. "You guys arrived very late and she only got a couple of hours of sleep."
Damian takes the bottle of water from Marinette's hand, giving her the opportunity to hold Chloe more comfortably.
"I told her to rest, but she is stubborn." The brunette sighed. "Even Kagami didn't come to class today." Marinette takes the lead in heading home, the other three following without hesitation.
Alix makes a sound of agreement, attention returning to the two boys. The malicious look shining.
“Hey, guys. How are you feeling now that your girlfriend is practically your height and can bench press the two of you together without sweating?” She twitches her eyebrows with a smile. “Have you been feeling too much heat? Thirst?"
Damian looks away, his expression blank. Luka, on the other hand, had two shades of red covering his neck and ears.
“Oh? I see." Alix teases. "You will have to fight Chloe for those muscles."
"Why would we have to fight your girlfriend for our girlfriend?" Damian raised an inquiring eyebrow.
"Because it's Marinette." Alix replies.
"You're right." Luka agrees as if that answers everything.
"And I'm going to pretend I'm not listening to this awkward conversation." Marinette comments.
They continue to talk and play, Marinette never once looking bothered by Chloe's dead weight as she walks. The group left Dupont without realizing the mental state they left behind.
That Marinette left behind.
Ms. Bustier's class, like the other students at Dupont, was frozen on the school stairs, unable to believe what their eyes were watching.
One person in particular felt particularly... hot.
'I didn't know that Marinette was so strong.' Adrien thought, unable to take his eyes off his friend.
He didn't even notice the appreciative sigh that escaped.
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novelconcepts · 4 years
Note
You saying more childhood AU is possible with the right prompt is just...
More Tess. All of the Tess. Tess the morning after the party, lives in my brain rent free. The teasing. The knowing looks. The Jamie and Dani being so in love and unashamed and also oops we forgot the roommate. And Tess being the wonderful person she is and not letting them get away with anything.
It’s the fact that they think they’re subtle, that really gets her. 
Not that Tess is upset to find Jamie crashing with them the week following graduation. Of course Jamie is crashing with them. Where else would she go, now that Dani “it’s important to grow up and change and learn who you really are, or some such bull” Clayton has finally snapped up the hot gardener of her dreams? Honestly, if Dani let her walk out that door--especially after that first night, which, hello, gardener; these walls aren’t half as thick as they apparently think--she’d have forfeited all rights to sanity, and Tess would have no choice but to make her move instead.
No, she isn’t upset to find Jamie still here the following morning. Or at all. She loves Jamie. What’s not to love? 
Honestly, so much to love. If she didn’t love Dani even more, she might have to really test the bounds of this friendship. Particularly when she opens her bedroom door to find Jamie--hair rumpled, dressed in a half-unbuttoned flannel and a pair of boxer shorts--at the kitchen counter. Like, warn a woman. 
“Warn you about what?” Jamie looks blank, her hands prying open each cupboard with evidently-mounting disappointment. “You really don’t have any tea?”
“Warn a woman,” Tess repeats, hip-checking her gently out of the way and scrounging the supply of English Breakfast out from behind the stoner snacks. “Before you turn up in her kitchen looking all sex-rumpled. I haven’t even had coffee, Taylor, Jesus.”
Jamie blinks, taking the box from her hands. “O...kay. How was the rest of the party?”
“Not nearly as engaging as your night,” Tess informs her pleasantly, delighted when Jamie’s sleep-muddled expression lights up with embarrassment. “But an extravaganza in its own right all the same. Where’s my girl? I know you railed her into next week, but it seems bad manners to leave you to breakfast alone.”
“I didn’t--we--”
“Thin walls,” Tess sing-songs. “Like paper. Or, what, you’re English--parchment?”
“We have paper,” Jamie deadpans. Tess pats her shoulder, working around her to fill the kettle. 
“Good fortune really does smile upon you. Ah! Sleeping Beauty arises!”
Dani, looking only slightly more functional than Jamie, is emerging from the bathroom with an expression that suggests she, at least, is very aware of the acoustics of their apartment. It’s so tempting to tease her about it--Dani has this truly adorable habit of looking like she might combust if pushed too far, the red of her face complimented nicely by the gold of her hair--but Tess figures some things can wait. Lord knows they’re going to walk right into it soon enough.
But like--so soon. Like, she goes off to take a shower, and comes back to find they still haven’t left the kitchen soon.
“Seriously?” She laughs, watching them leap apart. It’s too clear Dani has forgone the idea of coffee and bacon for the much-more-invigorating art of pushing Jamie against the refrigerator. Not that Tess can blame her. 
“We--were just--”
“Right in front of my cereal,” Tess says gravely, shaking her head in faux-disappointment as she stretches over Jamie--whose hands are still rooted to Dani’s hips, the hem of Dani’s shirt dropping hastily back over her stomach--to retrieve a box of off-brand Lucky Charms. “No shame.”
They’re both making noises of disagreement, as though Tess hasn’t had her share of groping in the kitchen experiences to call on. She snorts. 
“Look, far be it from me to stop your, ah, young love in its tracks. Just. Keep it out of my bedroom, is all I ask. Unless...” She wiggles her eyebrows. Jamie clears her throat so violently, it sounds as though she might fracture something.
“Shower. Should. I.”
“That sentence normally goes in the other direction,” says Tess helpfully. Dani swats her back, grinning. 
“Got that out of your system yet?”
“Oh, not nearly.” Tess beams. “By all means, Clayton, show her where the shower lives.”
“I know where the,” Jamie begins to protest, but Dani is slipping both arms around her middle, pressing against her back to urge her toward the bathroom.
“That’s her polite way of saying if I don’t go with you now, she’s going to spend the next half hour fishing for details.”
“You still owe me those,” Tess calls after them. “Every last filthy one.”
***
They think the shower is noise-cancelling, too, Tess realizes about four minutes later. Jesus, these beautiful useless idiots. 
***
It’s the lack of subtlety masquerading as Chill, really. The fact that every single time Tess leaves a room, she can count slowly to ten, poke her head back out, and find they’ve picked right back up where last she interrupted. 
Step into the bedroom to change her clothes? Come back out to find Dani straddling Jamie on the couch. 
Take a quick smoke break on the stairs out front? Glance through the window to find Jamie shirtless, the unmistakable tread of scratches running down her back beneath her bra. 
Offer to run out for lunch? Spend an extra five minutes idly counting clouds, because fuck only knows the sounds Dani is making isn’t karaoke. 
“You two,” she announces, tossing the pizza box onto the counter with a flourish, “are going to break something if you keep this up. I mean, you’re at least taking hydration breaks, I hope? Do I need to bring you a power bar?”
Jamie has the decency to look slightly ashamed of herself, though there’s a definite grin beneath the hunched shoulders. Dani, selecting a slice of pepperoni-and-banana-peppers, shrugs. 
“Consider it payback?”
“For who?” Tess demands, delighted. Dani raises her free hand, ticking her fingers down toward her palm.
“Tyler, whose butt I saw like ten minutes before you introduced us. May, who you used to desecrate the kitchen floor. Carlos and Beth--”
“Liz,” Tess interrupts, “she goes by Liz these days.”
“--Liz, with whom you conveniently forgot I needed to shower before my presentation and took up the bathroom for three hours--”
“Okay, okay,” Tess snorts, groping for a dishtowel in some shade of off-white to wave. “Truce.”
“And that’s just this apartment,” Dani says cheerfully. She tilts her head to look at Jamie, whose face can best be described as aghast. “Back in the dorm, she used to sneak girls in after I was asleep.”
“You were a sound sleeper!” 
“No one is sound enough to ignore a bed frame breaking, Tess.”
“I...avoiding college was the right choice,” Jamie says weakly. Tess bats her eyes.
“You’re saying you’ve never dreamed of breaking a bed frame with me, Taylor?”
Jamie darts a look around at Dani, her eyes just shy of screaming. Tess is having the best time of her life. 
***
“Tell me honestly, though,” she says. Jamie gives her a sharp look, uncertainty obvious even as she reaches to accept the joint Tess is passing her way. 
“Really don’t think Dani wants me giving you a play by play.”
“Dani, beloved of my soul, was fool enough to schedule a doctor’s appointment while you were still in town. She knows what I’m about.” 
To Jamie’s credit, she doesn’t choke this time. She puffs once, twice, holding the smoke in her lungs an impressively long time before craning her head back and exhaling. "What am I telling you honestly?”
“You’re going to keep an eye on her, right?”
Jamie looks surprised. “Yeah. Not that she needs it, mind. Just. Yeah. Always.”
Tess sighs. “She doesn’t need it, but you know as well as I what that woman is like. Too good. Too fucking good for her own good, you know? Forgets, sometimes, that she can come first, too.”
Jamie offers a smile nearly wicked in its amusement. “Oh, I take care of that.”
“Yes,” Tess drawls, “darling, I can tell. You know, really relieved she never brought anyone home before now. I’m not sure my beauty sleep could have taken the abuse.”
Jamie laughs, leaning back and pulling a throw pillow into a loose embrace. “She doesn’t need anyone taking care of her. But...”
“But you can’t help wanting to, anyway,” Tess guesses. When Jamie nods, she takes another hit, lets the smoke burn in her chest. “She has that effect on people. Our girl would take a bullet for anyone, and it’s...impossible not to love her for it.”
“She’s the reason,” Jamie says softly, “I didn’t run. Reason I did a lot of things, some of ‘em really, really stupid. Sometimes I think everything I’ve ever done can be traced back home to her, one way or another.”
“That, my dear,” Tess says, “is what fools and songstresses alike call love, I think. Just...do me a favor, keep her from killing herself for those kids.”
Jamie nods. “I will. Promise.”
“Good,” Tess says lightly. “I like you, Jamie. You’ve got the hands of a sinner and the smile of a saint. I’d really hate to have to track you down and kill you for doing her wrong.”
***
For all the sex, and all the blushing that follows, it’s late nights like this one that really say it all. Nights where cards fade into lazy conversation fade into this: Jamie, asleep on the couch, her head resting in Dani’s lap. Dani, looking down at her like she’s never felt so at home in her own skin. 
And Tess, watching them both, astonished by the lack of fear in the room. The lack of distance. The lack of uncertainty. 
Dani, who has always been a nervous sort, whose panic attacks are so predictable on bad weeks, Tess came back from that first Christmas break with a laundry list of coping methods to offer--looks perfectly at peace. Her fingers stroke back Jamie’s hair, tracing her forehead, her nose, every brush of contact only seeming to sink Jamie deeper into dream. Dani has never looked like this before. 
“You’re happy,” Tess says quietly. Not a question. Not a challenge. Dani smiles.
“Part of me thought she’d get sick of it, you know. Waiting for me.”
“Who could get sick of you?” Tess asks, and means it. No one in the world stacks up to Dani, on a list of favorite people. No one in the world ever could. If Jamie really did fall ass over teakettle for this woman when they were barely old enough to know what love was, she couldn’t be blamed for it. Not for a second. 
“You’ll invite me to the wedding, of course,” Tess says, when Dani--eyes closed, fingers still tracing aimlessly--says nothing for a while. One blue eye emerges, her nose scrunching up. 
“Jumping ahead, aren’t you?”
“She’d do it here and now, if you asked. Shit, I could get ordained, do it for you. Always thought I’d look nice in a little suit.”
“You’d be gorgeous,” Dani says, without a hint of deprecation. Tess blows her a kiss. “And...yes. If and when, I can’t imagine doing it without you.”
“As officiant?”
“I was thinking maid of honor,” Dani laughs. Tess leans back, smiling. 
“That’ll do.”
The silence creeps in again, the sleepy indulgence of post-midnight living that feels so perfectly suited to the college experience. Nothing else, Tess suspects, will ever be quite this again--the quiet feeling like peace, the weariness feeling earned, not crushing. Jamie breathes out in her sleep, one hand drifting to gently grasp the hem of Dani’s shirt.
“Gonna miss you,” Tess says softly. “And this one, too.”
Dani smiles, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It won’t be the same again, will it?”
“Nope.” And maybe that’s a good thing, she thinks. Maybe that’s exactly how it should be. Growing up. Changing. Learning who they ought to be. “But you’ll call.”
“And write,” Dani agrees. 
“And send me pictures of your hot gardener,” Tess adds. “Lord knows, it’d be a crying shame to forget that.”
Dani laughs. “Never.”
“You did good, Clayton. Took you a minute, but--you did good.”
She lets the silence settle for real, lets Jamie sleep and Dani doze, lets herself sink into the armchair. They aren’t subtle, it’s true--she’ll probably wake tomorrow to find they’ve opted for a quiet round of the most wall-shaking sex she’s ever heard in Dani’s room--but that feels right, somehow. Good, to see Dani refusing to make herself small. Great, to see Dani refusing to temper an emotion this grand.
“I love you idiots,” she says softly. “You’re going to be just fuckin’ fine.”
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leossmoonn · 4 years
Text
Training Session [Peter Parker]
masterlist 
pairing - peter parker x fem!stark’s daughter!reader
type - fluff
note - hope you enjoy! also idk ANYTHING about martial arts or combat fighting so lol dont take i wrote too seriously
summary - peter finds out mr. stark has a daughter and you two are put together for a training session.
warnings - lil suggestive
————
*gif isnt mine*
Tumblr media
“How do you like it?” Sam asked.
You turned to the mirror, eyes wide and mouth agape, admiring your new suit.
“This is awesome!” You squealed.
Sam, Tony, and Nat had deisgned a new suit for you. After your last battle, your suit had been torn to shreds. It had been months since you were able to go out in the field and you’d be anxious to fight crime. Now that you had your new suit, you were now able to fight crime.
You were named Fox. You were sly, witty, and and charming. Not just in your moves, but your personality, too. You had been working alongside your dad, Iron Man, for 7 years. You were 10 when you started, obviously too young to actually be fighting, but you were his right hand woman at all times. You helped him with his suit, team, and plans on how to deal with missions.
Your suit was a dark orange body suit, much like Nat’s. You had fingerless gloves, black combat boots, and an orange mask that went around your eyes. You had a black stripe down your suit’s back, much like a fox’s. You also had a utility belt with a grapling hook, taser, and pepper spray — you could never be too careful in the city. You and Tony tried hard to keep your identity safe, especially since you were still in high school.
“Do you think we need to add anything?” Tony asked.
“Can I get rockets on the bottoms on my shoes like you?” You asked.
Tony chuckled, “We’d have to change the whole material of your suit, cupcake. You don’t like metal, remember?”
You grumbled, “Yeah, yeah. Well, I love it! Thank you guys so much.” You turned to them with a big smile.
“No problem, babe,” Nat smiled. “You have training with me today at five.”
You nodded, “Noted.”
“There will be someone else joining you in trianing today,” Tony said.
“Who? Is it Bucky?” You asked. “No, he’s new,” Tony said.
“Wow, that gives me a lot. Who is it?” You pressed. 
“You’ll see. He’s actually pretty good for just starting out,” Sam smirked. 
You sighed, knowing they were gonna make it a surprise. 
“Well, I can’t wait!” You faked enthusiasm. You didn’t like surprises. 
You went off and up to your room, changing out of your suit and into running shorts and a t-shirt. You decided to take a nap before your training.
You woke up 2 hours later, still as exhausted as before. You filled up your water bottle before going into the gym. You saw Nat and a brunette boy. He wasn’t too much taller and by the back of his head, he didn’t look too much older.
“Hey, Nat,” you greeted as you walked in and set your water bottle near the mat. 
“Hey, Y/n! This is our new recruit, Peter Parker. You probably know him as Spider-Man,�� Nat smiled. Peter turned around and his eyes widened. 
His heart started to race and his face turned red as he looked over you. Your eyes were bright and lively, your smile being the most gorgeous smile he’d ever seen. Your skin flawless and you had no makeup on, but you still looked beautiful. 
“Hi,” you smiled. “I’m Y/n Stark,” you held out your hand. 
Peter opened his mouth to speak, but the only sound that came out was a squeak. Nat and you chuckled at his shock. 
“H-hi. I’m Parker. No, Pe-Peter,” he stuttered and shook your hand. 
“Not used to meeting important people, huh?” You smirked. 
“Ye-yeah, but also pretty people,” he blurted. His face turned a darker shade of red and he slapped his mad over his mouth. 
The action made Nat giggle and his words made flustered as well.
“Thank you, Peter,” you said shyly and looked down at your shoes. 
“Ready to get to work, love birds?” Nat teased. 
You rolled your eyes and nodded. You took a long sip of water.
“We are gonna start on the treadmill, do some weights, and I’m gonna teach you some combat moves,” Nat instructed. 
You and Peter nodded and got up on the treadmills. 
“One mile today. Remember to pace yourself. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to slow down a little,” Nat said. 
You started the treadmill at 3.5 so you can warm up for a few minutes before running. You took a small sip of your water as you sped-walked. You looked over and saw Peter already running his mile. Your brows cocked upwards as you saw him running at 6.0 speed.
You worked your way up to 6.0 speed, finishing your mile in 6 minutes. Peter, however, finished 3 minutes after you. 
“I said pace yourself, kid,” Nat said. 
Peter blushed again and nodded. 
“Next time, follow Y/n’s lead. She paces herself nicely,” Nat said while you took a drink of water. 
“Thanks, Nat. I have been doing this for a long time,” you smiled. 
“How long? Are you a superhero?” Peter asked. 
“Mhm,” you hummed. “I’ve been helping my dad since I was 10. I’ve been a superhero for 3 years.”
“What’s your superhero name?” Peter asked. 
“Fox.”
“Oh, my God! Really? I-I am such a big fan. You were what actually inspired me to become Spider-Man. I think it’s so cool how you save people and fight off bad guys without any superpowers,” Peter gushed. 
“Thank you, Pete,” you giggled at his excitement. 
“You’re welcome. Wow, this is so cool. I am working with Fox, Iron Man, Black Widow,” Peter smiled. 
“You’re lucky, kid,” Nat smiled and patted his back. “Okay, why don’t you all stretch. Peter, have you ever benched before?” 
Peter shook his head while stretching his hamstrings. 
“Okay, we’ll start you out with 45 pounds. If that’s too light, we’ll bump it up to 50,” Nat said and put the weights on the bar. “Y/n, what do you wanna do today?”
“Uh, I’ll do a leg and glute day today. My arms need a break,” you said. 
“Rock and roll, then. I’ll spot you, Parker,” Nat said. Peter went to bench press while you went to the kickback machine. 
You and Peter worked in weights for about an hour. You did a variety of workouts while Peter mainly focused on how to use each machine and which would be most beneficial for him. 
“Okay. Grab a drink, use the bathroom, whatever you need before we do some fighting,” Nat said. 
You both went to do your things before you were going to fight. You came back in the gym, stretching your arms while walking in.
“Ready to work, Pete?” You asked the boy and patted his back. He nodded and choked on his water when he looked up at you
You changed our of your shorts and t-shirt to black biker shorts and a grey sports bra. The biker shorts hugged your body perfectly and the top of your breats showed, making Peter stare.
You noticed and smirked. “My eyes are up here, kid.”
His eyes immediately shot up and his face blushed for what seemed like the 100th time today.
“I am so sorry. I just don’t see girls in bras, like, ever. In gym class we all wear t-shirts, which makes sense. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear I’m not a prevert or anything, you just look really uh... nice? I—”
Nat and you turned to each other, amusement played on your faces. You turned back to the rambling boy.
“It’s okay, Peter. I get it, boobs are nice to look at. Especially when you’re a hormonal, almost always horny, teenage boy,” you teased.
“I’m not horny!” He claimed, embarrassing himself more.
“Don’t worry, I never assumed you were. I was just speaking generally,” you smiled.
“Oh,” he said and he looked down sheepishly.
“No worries. Now, let’s get goin’,” you said.
Peter nodded and followed you to the mat. 
“So, we are going to practice some basic moves. Y/n, I know you already know them, but there is nothing wrong with reviewing,” Nat said. 
You both nodded, waiting for further instruction.
“So, the first one is simple, yet very dangerous. It’s also fairly easy, in my opinion. It’s called the rear neck choke,” Nat said. “Peter, you’re gonna stand behind Y/n and put your arm around her neck.”
Peter nodded and awkwardly stood behind you. Your butt brushed against his crotch, making him cough awkwardly. He put his arm around your neck. The skin-to-skin contact made your heart flutter. You cleared your throat, too, breathing deeply to try and slow your heart rate.
“Good. Now, you basically just squeeze until the person passes out. Y/n, why don’t you demenstrate the next move,” Nat said.
You smiled and took ahold of Peter’s arm. You then crouched down and pulled him over your head. You flipped him over on the mat.
“Ow,” he whined as he fell. He looked up at you and couldn’t help but smile. You stood tall, hands on your hips and a smile on your face.
“Now, Peter, what you can do when she does that is hook your legs on her ankles and pull so she looses balance. You then can reach for her ankle and throw her across the room. But, we arent going to do that. What you can do, though, is do the ankle bit I told you. Then you can pin her down,” Nat explained.
Peter looked at you two hesitantly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Y/n chuckled, “It’s all right. You won’t hurt me that bad, I promise.”
Peter nodded and did as he was told. He hooked his feet over your ankle and jerked you so your feet gave out beneth you. He then got up quickly to pin you down, but you were quicker.
You rolled over and pinned him down instead. Your left hand held his wrists above his head while your right held down his shoulder. Your legs went around his waist and squeezed slightly to make sure he wouldn’t move. Your head leaned down to his, a triumphant smile resting on your lips.
“W-wha-” Peter was at a loss for words. Not just because you beat him, but how close you two were.
He breathed in deeply, catching a whiff of your scent. You smelled like cherries and vanilla. Your skin was smooth, clear, and glowing from the sheer film of sweat on your face. You looked like an angel to him, nonetheless.
“And that is why you gotta be faster, Parker. But you’ll learn in time. You’re already pretty good on the field by yourself,” Nat said.
Peter nodded. You got up off of him and helped him up.
“Wanna try that again? I promise I won’t do that again,” you suggested.
“Sure,” Peter nodded and laid back on the mat.
He hooked onto your ankle again. As you promised, you let him pin you down. You watched the way he moved. He was swift and fast. The way his muscles flexed when he grabbed your wrist made your stomach flip.
He got on top of you, pinning both your wrists like you did to him. His free hand went to the side of your face, helping him support himself so he wouldn’t be laying directly on top of you.
Your heart rate quickened once more and you felt like it was hard to breathe. A few strands of his hair were hanging down from his head and he had sweat glistening on his forehead. His honey-brown eyes was something you found yourself getting lost in quickly. He was so handsome.
“Uh... Y/n?” Peter muttered, catching your attention.
You blinked rapidly and looked away in embarrassment. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he gave you a friendly smile and got off of you.
“Okay, water break. You two practice those few moves a few more times,” Nat said.
You got up and took a big sip of your water bottle. You then got back to training with Peter. He was a fast learner and almost every time pinned you down. You, however, were slightly faster.
Each time you got on top of him, Peter couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. He’d never been this close to a girl before.
Thirty minutes later and the session was over.
“Good job, you two. Next time we’ll get into more moves involving punching and such. See you later, kiddos,” Nat smiled at you two. She left the gym and you turned to Peter.
“It was nice meeting you, Pete. Maybe we can hang out outside of training?” You suggested.
Peter’s eyes lit up and he nodded excitedly.
“Y-yeah. I’d like that.”
“Great. Give me your number next time. See you, Spidey,” you waved and left the gym.
Peter jumped up and down. He couldn’t wait to tell Ned.
————
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the-slasher-files · 4 years
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Temper Temper - Slashers pt 1
INCLUDES JASON ONESHOT
TW: nswf, asphyxiation, blood, good ol filthy sex
WORDS: 2305
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It was a hot and sticky summer evening, Jason went on a patrol over the camp and you were bored. Putting on your hiking boots, you thought it was a nice time for a walk. The woods were alive tonight. Birds loudly signing their songs, deer hopping through the brush. It was beautiful here, peaceful, it was home. You started on one of the trails down by the lake, one you had not been on before. The summer sun twinkled behind the evergreens and shades of red, yellow, and pink set the sky ablaze. Leaves crunched under your boots, and the water plopped against the rocks and logs. Why hadn’t Jason shown you this trail? It was gorgeous.
The fading sun had now disappeared, and the forest had become still. Just listening to the dirt under your feet you jumped when you heard distant screams coming from the camp. Stopping to look across the lake, seeing the little glow from the cabin lights. Sighing to yourself, sometimes you just wished he was a normal man. Just some lumberjack in the woods, rather than the killer of Camp Crystal Lake that you fell in love with. Some nights were just harder than others coming to that reality. You loved him for who he was; undead, mute, and covered in scars. Killer or not, Jason was yours and you were his. 
Carrying on with your walk trying to not listen to the screams, you came to a clearing in the woods. Wildflowers and mushrooms covered the ground, it was like a scene from a fairy tale. Deciding to have a rest for a minute, the screams stopped and it was quiet, peaceful and calm. Laying down in the long grasses and flowers watching the summer breeze sway the tree tops and looking at the now dark sky seeing the stars. They were brighter here, away from everything.  
You laid there for a while just enjoying the serenity of the woods as the sky became clouded over and the distant rumbling of thunder approached. Standing up and dusting yourself off you looked up to see the figure of the masked man. There was a flash from the sky, lighting him up. Jason was covered in blood, carrying his machete and dragging a body behind him. Just from his eyes you could tell he was not happy. Some of his biggest unspoken rules were broken, never step foot in his camp, never leave the cabin without him knowing, and more importantly, never go out when he is killing. 
Dropping the body behind him he tensed up, white-knuckling his machete handle. This was the first time you left the cabin while he was killing, you didn’t know how he was going to react. The large masked man walked towards you, towering you, the smell of iron overwhelmed your senses. He pulled your chin up with his fingers looking you in the eyes, trying to communicate a wide range of emotions, anger, anxiety, love among other things. Jason grabbed your arm with force which he never does unless he thinks you are in danger, but the danger was gone, wasn’t it? you thought. “Jason I’m fine,” he stood there and tugged on your small arm not letting go, directing you toward the cabin. “Stop Jason.” you grabbed his hand pulling it off you. Locking eyes something lit a fire in him. A loud boom of thunder hit when the masked man picked you up throwing you over his shoulder. He was not in the mood to negotiate your safety, and he was not in the mood to be a good gentle boyfriend.
“What the fuck are you doing?! Put me down! Jason!” You yelled at him as you were being carried, beating on his back. He just trotting along the trail letting you hit him and yell, you could do what you wanted but your safety was his number one priority. 
Making it to the cabin he placed you down on the creaky floorboards. You tried to push the large man away, but he was just a wall. He closed the door leaving the blood coated machete outside, letting the rain clean it. Jason was always afraid of his anger, it was always inside him. No matter what he did or how many people he killed, the rage was still in him, like a disease eating at him every day. After years and years of bullying and torment, then losing his mom, this anger was pent up and it would be forever. He would always be afraid of what he might do in rage to someone he loved. Usually, Jason would take a walk if he was angry, but tonight he had to make you understood that you cannot leave the cabin when he is killing. It is too dangerous. He didn’t want to lose the love of his life. You have been in fights before but this was different, it was almost a matter of principle for both of you. You wanted your freedom and he wanted to protect you from the world. Both of your anger filled the air and it wasn’t gonna be pretty.  
“Jason Stop! I am not your fucking princess,” you yelled at the large man in front of you, meeting his gaze. He expected some resistance from you but defiantly not an exposition of anger. He was trying to protect you, keep you safe here. Make a life for you and him why couldn’t understand that? It made him madder because if it wasn’t for the stupid teenagers, you would never be fighting.
“You cannot hover over me all the time, I feel like I am being smothered” He wished at these moments he could talk, even for 5 minutes, just to explain himself. You were pacing in the secluded cabin almost like a tiger in the zoo. Always being an independent person Jason made you angry sometimes with his overprotectiveness of you, but tonight you were livid. Your face felt hot and there was a tightness to your chest. “Every fucking time I have to ask you if I can leave to go for a fucking walk or even to go down to the water. I am my own person Jason. I feeling like your fucking prisoner sometimes.” His breathing increased with yours, just watching you yell at him and pace around, it hurt him, he would never want to make you feel like a prisoner. 90 percent of the time his anger came from hurt, and tonight was no different. 
“Jason. You treat me like I’m your little doll or something, I’m not. I need my time alone, I need my freedom.” You shouted at him. He was still just standing there. You wanted some sort of reaction from him, just something to know he was listening. You weren’t gonna lie, you liked him treating you like a princess but when it comes to your freedom it just got annoying. Every time you went out with him on walks he would always be watching with owl eyes making sure you didn’t twist an ankle or trip, he would lift you over logs, and never let you even swim in the lake. “Look, I am tired of this shit. Sometimes I want you to treat me rough, I’m not made of glass... don’t you fucking care?” Listening to that Jason almost shuttered. All he did was care, that is why he had carried you home, sheltering you from the storm and any danger that was outside. It set him off.
Walking towards you, his massive figure engulfing you, pressing you up against the wall. Locking you in place, just staring into each others eyes, anger turned to lust, and almost greediness for each other’s bodies. Grabbing your waist, you tore off his mask tossing it to the floor, his lips met yours with force, both of you wanting to devour each other’s souls. Jason lifted you on the table never leaving your lips, letting things crash to the floor off the desk. Your legs wrapped around his hips, pressing you two together. Blood smeared on your body from his clothes. 
“Fuck” you moaned into his ear as he moved to kiss and bite at your neck. Your moans fueled his animalist needs to have all of you. Ripping off his button up, your hands moved to his belt fumbling with it as Jason pulled off your t-shirt, his eye wide as he saw your bra. Red and lacy, his favorite. You knew you were in for it now. Tearing his belt off you placed it around his thick neck pulling him closer. Heavy breathing and moans coating your throats. Jason lifting your hips to let your shorts pass your thighs, to his pleasure you wore the matching underwear. The lightning lit up his lustful eyes, he pulled away from your hands just taking in the view. You unclasped your bra letting it fall to the floor, and wiggled your underwear off, teasing him with your pace, ever so slowly pulling them from your legs. He pulled the belt off of him and draped it around your neck, pulling you up and off the desk he led you toward the bed. 
Once you were in reach of the bed he grabbed your small waist pushing you on the bed. He had never been rough with you, it was exciting and made your adrenaline surge. Both of your anger and pent up sexual aggression was about to be released. Laying on your back waiting for what he was going to do next, he roughly grabbed your thighs pulling your ass to the edge of the bed. If this is what the teenagers saw before death, it wasn’t that bad. Jason undid his worn jeans, freeing his already hard dick. Leaning in he spit on your clit making you shutter, and roughly thrusted into you making you squeal. “Jason, fuck” you moaned just giving him more carnal need. 
Pulling on the belt around your neck letting it get tighter he watched you carefully making sure he wasn’t going too far, but at this point he didn’t know if he could stop himself if he did go too far. Thrusting in and out of you Jason was grunting and growling like a pent up wild bear. Even he needed this rough release. You were moaning loudly as the belt got tighter with each thrust, and he got deeper and deeper, filling you perfectly. If this was the rough side of him, you needed this more. “J-Jason.. fuck” you stuttered his name as you were so close to your release, but he pulled out. Leaving you lifeless and groaning. Usually he was never a teaser but he wanted you to come with him and he wasn’t done with you.
He brushed your lips roughly with his thumb letting some not yet dried blood coat your lips and chin. Jason’s calloused large hands brushed over your body letting you bask in the sexual frustration. Blood looked good on you, but he would never admit that. This was a different Jason tonight. This was the ruthless killer. The demon of the water and the ghost of the forest.  
Watching you try to return to normal he pulled the belt a bit more just curious for your threshold. Slowly he thrust himself back into you, too slow, a deadly slow. Forcing him to resist every urge to cum right now. You moaned and tried to move your hips into his swallowing his cock completely, but with his free hand he grabbed your hip stopping you. He was in control tonight. “F-fuck... babe... please” you struggled to talk as the belt was cutting off your air supply. Jason gave his infamous head tilt before completely filling you. He looked down watching you stretch on his cock. Controlling your hips he held you there for a few seconds before almost pulling out completely only to ram back into you, hitting the back of your uterus and repeating. Each time the bed shook, hitting the wall. Trying to moan, your eyes rolling back into your skull, maybe from total pleasure or the lack of oxygen, it didn’t matter it was perfect. 
His hand digging into your hip surly to leave bruises, he gave a few more solid thrusts into you before your walls clamped down around him and your bodies succumbed to the pleasure and released. You on him and him in you. One last loud grunt filled the hot air, and then everything was silent. Just hearing the rain hit the windows. 
Jason looked down at you, with fresh eyes that were not filtered by lust. You laid there looking like one of his victims. Lifeless, smeared with blood and bruises already forming from under his hands. He quickly undid the belt throwing it to the floor examining the redness it caused as you coughed and gasped for air. Jason held your head steady and locked eyes with you again, making sure you were ok. You could tell he felt like shit by the marks he made on you, and by what he had put you through. He watched your every breath waiting for it to become normal again. “Babe... I love you... thank you” 
Jason pulled out and lifted you, gentling placing your recovering body in the bathtub. Running the warm water cleaning the foreign blood off your naked body. The rest of the night you laid in bed, listening to the storm pass, him holding you close and you falling asleep on his chest. With every flash of the lightning he observed the redness growing and deepening to purples around your neck, feeling horrible but smriking at the same time by remembering what it felt like to be so encapsulated by lust.
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micks-so-cold · 4 years
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𝕀 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕋𝕠 𝕄𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕋𝕠 𝕐𝕠𝕦
001: y/n moves to California with her mom. Mick is her new neighbor and decides to greet y/n. (Smut)
My mom and I just arrived at our new house in Southern California. We didn’t have an exact reason for moving here specifically; we just wanted to get out of Washington.
A couple months ago, my father passed away from cancer, and our huge house in Washington wasn’t cutting it for us anymore. The extra space only reminded us of his absence more—it only brought us more sadness. So we did the only thing we could—sell it and move far away.
It was late at night when we finally got settled in to our new home. Almost all our possessions were unboxed, except for my own items which were all sitting in boxes in my room.
“I’m going to unbox some of my stuff before heading to bed,” I tell my mom as I stand up from the couch and walk to the trashcan to toss my paper plate away. We decided to have takeout for dinner since there was next to no food in the house.
“I might do the same thing, y/n,” my mom says, standing up and throwing away her plate as well. “See you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.”
She stands with her arms open, ready for a hug, which I obviously agree to. I never really was a ‘hugger’ until my dad’s death. I didn’t realize how much I would miss his hugs until he passed. I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t do to hug him one last time. And because of that, mom and I made it routine to hug at least once a day. She needed the support as much as I did—I could tell.
My room had only one window, which happened to be facing my neighbor’s window. There wasn’t really a ‘scenic’ view like most people would want, or like I had in Washington, but I didn’t mind it. I’d probably keep my curtains shut most of the time regardless of what was outside. That’s what I always did at my old house. I liked my privacy.
Given that, the first thing I decide to do is put up my curtains. It was pretty late, seven o’clock, to be exact, but as I looked out the window, I noticed the summer night sky still had traces of the pink and orange sunset from earlier in the evening. I like to think my dad was making the sunsets for my mom and me; I like to imagine him painting the sky, blending the warm and cool colors together, and watching us admire his beautiful artwork.
As I worked on hanging my curtains, I hear something hit my window. I drop the curtain rod, catching it only just before it could touch the ground.
I look out the window to see what had made the noise and jump back, surprised, when I see a boy, who looked to be only a couple years older than me, standing only a few feet away from my window.
Was I dreaming? Or is walking up to people’s windows just a normal thing in California?
The boy had long, messy, dark brown hair that swept in front of his face and pouty, deep pink lips. He wore a white sweater and black skinny jeans that fit him well.
I didn’t realize I had drawn myself into a trance until the boy snapped me out of it. “Open the window for me so I can stop yelling?” he questions. His voice didn’t sound too loud to me, but I could tell it was raised so I could hear.
I unlock the window and push it up. When I look back up at him, he had a subtle smirk on his face that caused my cheeks to flush a light shade of pink. I look down slightly, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see my blush, though I’m sure he could.
“You’re new, aren’t you? Figured I’d introduce myself. Didn’t mean to frighten you,” he speaks in a deep voice and noticeably slow tone. I just now noticed his thick British accent. “I’m Mick.” He moves a little closer, twirling a joint around his pointer and middle fingers as he does so.
“Throwing rocks at windows is actually a great way to frighten your new neighbors,” I state, regaining a little bit of my composure.
“Don’t you think I know that?” Mick chuckles, like I was the silly one. He leans down and picks up a dirty tennis ball, holding it up for me to see. “That’s why I used this.”
“Right, because that’s so much better,” I say sarcastically.
He tosses the ball to the side. “Certainly is.” I watch him run his fingers through his hair a few times. He glances up at me, like he was waiting for me to speak.
“Okay, Mick, I’ve got to finish unpacking my things. Thanks for stopping by,” I tell him. I didn’t know what to say, and, frankly, I didn’t really want him here. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him—I’m just tired, and I have to unpack before I go to sleep. There was plenty of time tomorrow. He could talk to me then.
I reach up to shut the window, but Mick put his foot up on the window sill. “Don’t I get a name at least? You know, before you kick me out.” His smirk never left his face until he brought his joint up to his lips. He breathes in and turns his head to the side, letting out a puff of smoke, before turning his attention back to me.
“I have the right to kick you out if I never invited you in the first place,” I explain, humored at his persistence. “But my name is y/n.”
“Y/n?” Mick questions. He goes back to twirling the joint between his fingers. “Y/n, what a beautiful name. Y/n.” His voice was almost teasing, but it made my face warm.
“Mick, I-I really—” I start to speak, but he cuts me off.
“You’re really blushing, aren’t you, y/n?” He speaks in a whisper. His blue eyes stare into mine, and his tongue traces his plump upper lip. “You like when I say your name, don’t you, y/n?”
I stood there silently, mouth slightly open, shocked at just how bold someone could be within minutes of knowing another person. Is this how Mick acts with everyone he meets?
“Well, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” Mick interrupts my thoughts. How long have I been silent?
He must think I’m weird now. And I couldn’t blame him. I should’ve replied to his question. But how am I supposed to respond to that?
“Let me make it up to you—I’ll help you get your stuff out of those boxes,” he suggests.
So maybe he didn’t think I was too weird.
His eyes trail away from my face and to the few things that I had inside. He even peaks his head inside to see the emptiness that was on the sides of the room.
“It’s okay. I’ll manage. Thanks,” my voice was quiet—I was nervous. I seemed to only get more nervous the longer we talked. That’s not how conversations should work.
Mick shakes his head and steps inside. For some reason, I didn’t bother stopping him. “I insist,” he tells me, placing his hand over his heart and bowing ever so slightly. We were standing closer now; only a few inches remain between us, and I had to look up at him to make eye contact. He was taller than me—by four inches, at least.
Anxiously, I take a couple steps back and play with my fingers—a nervous habit of mine. Mick follows me, though. Each step I take away from him, he takes one toward me.
On my last step back, my foot gets caught on the curtain rod I was trying to get in place before Mick decided to throw a tennis ball at my window. I stumble backward, squeeze my eyes shut, and let out a squeal as I fall to the ground.
But I don’t end up falling to the ground.
I open my eye to see Mick holding me. His hands were placed on my lower back. “Good thing I stayed, huh? Would’ve landed on your bum,” He chuckles.
“Nuh uh,” I protest. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you weren’t still here...and if you weren’t...” I squirm a little in his arms which were still loosely wrapped around my body. “If you weren’t...” I didn’t want to admit what I was planning to say next.
Mick smiles. “If I wasn’t?” He pulls his bottom lip with his teeth and unexpectedly pulls me toward him. Our bodies were now touching, and I’m sure my heart rate doubled. The rough fabric of his jeans brushed against my bare legs which were only covered by the small, black athletic shorts I wore during the day. “Finish that thought for me, y/n.”
I shake my head.
“Don’t make me force it out of you,” he whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my body. A warm wave rushed through my insides.
I shake my head once again.
“Answer my question...don’t be a bad girl,” he whispers in the same ear, dominance clear in his voice. His breath tickled my ear. I grip the fabric of my white T-shirt and bunch it together in an attempt to keep my composure.
Mick moves his hands off my back and grabs my hands, prying them off the fabric and holding them tightly in his hands. “Am I going to have to punish you?” His fingers slowly rub circles on my palms. “Tell me, y/n, do you think you deserve to be punished?”
I don’t know what came across my, and I don’t know exactly what Mick meant by the word ‘punish,’ but something told me to agree with him. So I nod my head.
“Your words, y/n, use them.” Mick cocked his head to the side while he stared at my lips. He lifted one of his hands to my bottom lip and ran his thumb across it. “I want you to tell me you deserve to be punished.”
“Mick...” I speak, my voice quiet and squeaky, while he held his thumb on my lower lip. “I deserve to...be punished.”
“Good,” he blandly says, licking his lips before immediately taking control.
He pushes me back with his hands which were placed on the top of my chest. My trembling legs eventually hit the side of my queen size bed, and Mick wastes no time pushing my back down to the bed. “I’ll get those words out of you,” he chuckles in a cynical manner. “If it’s the last thing I do, y/n.”
I breathe out heavy pants and nod my head. Mick slips his warm hands under my T-shirt and his fingers crawl up to the cups of my bra. He presses his lips to mine and tugs on my lip with his teeth. “Pretty girl,” he mumbled as he continues his gentle kiss.
I reach to wrap my arms around his torso, but Mick stops me. He lifts his hands off my bra and grabs my hands. “Not so fast, darling. Not when you’re being punished,” he strictly spoke. He gets up off the bed. And walks to the other side of the room.
I frown and sit up. I didn’t want him to go away. I liked this. Whatever it was. I liked the excitement. “You’re...leaving?” I was hesitant to ask. I hope he couldn’t hear the disappointment in my voice.
Mick chuckles. “Of course not.” I watch him reach for a box and untie the thin rope that was wrapped around it to keep it shut. He gripped the rope in one hand and walked back over to me, taking off his shirt as he did so.
I curl up in the corner of the bed, partially nervous, mostly excited. I admire Mick’s slim, toned body as he walks toward me.
“Don’t keep staring at me like that, baby. You’re making me cocky,” he says with a smirk, though we both knew he was already quite cocky. Quickly, I look away with hot cheeks.
He drops the rope on the bed and crawls over to me. “This needs to go,” he says, referring to my shirt, as he pulls it over my head, leaving me in just my black bra with a small lace bow in the center. Mick smiles when he sees it, though I felt embarrassed. I would’ve worn more appropriate clothes had I known this is what I’d be participating in tonight.
“You’re adorable, y/n.” I like watching his lips as he spoke—I liked watching his lips move when my name rolled off his tongue. He licks his lips before removing the clasp from my bra with one hand, clearly experienced, and tossing it to the empty side of the bed. He grabs the rope in place of the bra.
He doesn’t bother explaining to me what he was doing, but I already had a clue when he started to tie my wrists together. And once the knot was secure, he tied the loose ends to the bed frame of my bed.
This was the last thing I expected to happen on my first night in California, but I was glad it was happening. There was something about Mick that I liked, something I just couldn’t quite place my finger on.
“Look at you,” Mick spoke, his voice in awe. He moves over me, his hips only an inch apart from me, and grasps my breast. His thumb circles over my nipple, moving slowly, and he watches my facial expressions as he does so.
I squirm and thrust my hips upward, only to be pushed back down by him. “Still, baby. I want you still,” he requests. “If you’re getting a kick out of this...” he eyes down at my breast which he was still vigorously working on. “Then I just don’t know how you’ll survive when I move further down.” His deep voice made me feel damp down there, something I haven’t felt in a while.
“M-mick,” I gasp when he brings his mouth to my nipple that he wasn’t massaging. His tongue swirls around my breast and I couldn’t help but moan. “More, more, Mick,” I groan and shake my hands, trying to get them out of the tight hold Mick put them in. I wanted to feel him. I wanted my hands in his hair. I wanted my hands on his body. I needed to pull him closer, but I couldn’t.
I arch my back trying to get closer to him as his mouth and hand still worked on my breasts. “Shh, baby,” he hums, clearly pleased with how much I was struggling. “I know you want me, but you’ve been a bad girl, remember?” He teases me.
“I’m sorry...I-I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I need to-to touch you, Mick. I know I’m a bad girl...but I need you.”
Mick ignores my pleads. “What kind of punishment would this be if I gave you what you wanted?” He pokes fun while I continue moving around, trying to get to him.
He continues his suck on my breast while his other hand moves down to my shorts. His fingers slide under the elastic waistband with ease and he pushes them down to my knees.
He suddenly stops working on my breast and sits up. He begins to run his fingers along the seams of my underwear. “I hope you’re ready, baby,” he looks at me with a gentle smile before directing his attention to my panties.
He aggressively presses his fingers over my clit which was covered only by a light pink fabric. I close my eyes at his touch which had such an effect on me—an effect I would probably never understand. “You’re so wet for me,” he comments, pleased with himself. “And I’ve barely even explored down here yet, doll.”
He pulls down my damp panties. “Open your eyes. I didn’t tell you you could close your eyes,” Mick demands. I do as I was told and when I open my eyes I see him holding my cotton panties by the waistband in front of us, very close to my face.
“See what I’ve done to you, y/n?” He asks. I look at the darker pink area of the panties that he caused. I nod my head. Of course I knew what he did to me.
“Next time you wear these, you’ll think of me, understood?” He asks for confirmation. “You’ll remember just how wet I can make you—just how much power I have over you. Got it?”
I nod my head. There was no way I could forget this, even if I wanted to.
“Speak.” His voice was demanding.
“I understand,” I whimper, desperate for his hands and mouth to explore me once again.
“You understand what?” Mick wanted the full sentence.
“Mick,” I groan his name. “I-I understand that you...you hold power over me.” My voice was whiny. I needed him to touch me right now.
“That’s right,” he says, satisfied.
Finally, he brings his finger down to my pussy and plays with my flaps. His warm fingers knew the exact speed at which I liked. I try squeezing my legs together but am expectedly stopped by Mick.
“No, y/n,” he states, looking me dead in the eyes as he continues to work at my pussy. “You’re a bad girl. I don’t know how many times I have to remind you. You don’t get to choose what you do anymore. That’s for me to decided.” Mick’s dominance was more apparent now than ever.
He brought his pointer finger down to my hole and shoved it into me without any warning. I shudder and let out a whimper, immediately thrusting my hips up. “Mick...Mick...” I moan his name. “More,” I whisper.
He shoves two more fingers inside me, and I rattle my arms uncontrollably as his fingers trace up and down my walls, exploring anywhere they please. Mick smiles at my fight to restrict myself as much as possible.
“I hope you’re learning your lesson, baby.” He starts pumping his fingers in and out, slowly at first, but then gradually picking up the pace.
“Faster,” I groan. “Faster.”
“Beg some more and I’ll consider it,” he teases me. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Say my name. Tell me just how bad of a girl you were. Beg for it, y/n.”
“Mick,” I gasp. “Mick I need it...I-I need...it...faster.” My voice rose as I spoke, as I became more and more desperate. “I’ve been a very bad girl, I-I know...but I need it faster...harder.”
And Mick complies. His three-finger pumps become more aggressive. He was faster. “My sweet girl, how do you feel?” He asks me.
“I feel...” I lose track of what I was saying as I was too caught up with his actions.
“Do you feel like you can finish that sentence now.? ‘If you weren’t so...’” He curls his fingers inside of me, making me shake the bed frame. “Have you been punished enough, y/n?”
I nod my head, eagerly. “If you weren’t so...intimidating.”
A/N: Hi!! This is my first fan fiction I’ve written and I hope you like it! Feel free to suggest any prompts you want to read. I’d love to write them. :) Thanks so much for reading! Xx
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thirstystarkey · 4 years
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HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK
Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.
Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat
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CHAPTER 21
As the boat JJ borrowed to surprise Y/N pierce through the waves, the sun started to go sun painting the sky in beautiful shades of pink and orange. Y/N loved watching the sunset and JJ made sure to get them as far as possible to enjoy a nice evening.
“This is so beautiful.” Y/N said mesmerized as JJ sat beside her. He anchored the boat before hand.
The hot weather of summer blessed them with a pleasant warm day, Y/N wore a flowy yellow sundress and JJ had his usual attire that consisted of a random tshirt and his shorts along with his black boots. Fingers adorn with rings and his bandana tied up on his wrist. He looked more beautiful than normal to Y/N.
“The sky ain’t got none on you.” JJ said teasingly brushing her hair behind her ear.
“Oh god, stop Maybank.” Y/N laughed hiding her face as her cheeks turned bright red.
“I made the famous Y/N blush once more.” JJ said loudly like he was talking for others to ear but there was no one around, beside some animals. “I’m the king of the world.” He imitated Jack Dawson breaking into a raspy laugh.
“You are an idiot JJ Maybank.” Y/N looked at him through her arm, with a smile mocking him.
“You still like me, admit it.” JJ arched one brow in a suggestive manner.
“I mean... On good days, you can be tolerable.” She mocked the blond boy pushing his shoulder.
“And on the bad days?” He teased her getting closer to her, his breath hitting her skin.
“I either want to kill you.” She whispered straightening her back. “Or I want to fucking throw you of the boat.” Y/N mocked JJ realizing I was expecting a different answer.
“Am in danger right now?” The blond boy asked.
“Why are you afraid of getting wet?” Y/N sassed.
“Totally not, are you baby?” JJ pulled her into him, whispering in her ear.
“Never.” She answered under her breath due to the sudden movement.
“Good.” JJ smiles against her neck.
It all happened too fast for Y/N to process but when she took notice she was grinding her hips against JJ’s, in his lap while his hands tightly held her against him by her thighs. His rough digits against her soft flesh made her head spin with euphoria, being this close to him and feeling his whole body pressed against her created a itch only JJ could scratch.
But once his hands moved through the inside of her dress until they reached her waist Y/N froze in place, she knew what she was about to do and deep inside her even though she wanted it, it also scared her. Y/N pulled away from his lips and stared into his dilated pupils full of lust darkening the beautiful shade of light blue he had normally.
“Did I do something wrong?” JJ asked suddenly insecure.
“No JJ, it’s not you.” She looked down trying to find the correct words for her feelings.
“What it is?” He asked again, removing his hands from her skin readjusting her dress in place before carressing her face. “I’m sorry, we don’t need to do this if you think we’re moving to fast.” He cupped her chin sweetly.
“I want to. I really want to.” Y/N whispered softly with a sign getting ready to speak her mind. “It’s just that... I don’t want you to see me for what I am and run away after.” Y/N said looking into his eyes, seeing JJ’s expression change. He wasn’t really used to affection but with her it felt different. He didn’t want to hide anymore.
“I won’t ever run away from you Y/N.” His voice turned soft as he kept on carressing her face. “I mean it.” He reassured once he notice her insecure feelings. “I’m the one who should be afraid of you running away, I’m a big chaotic mess.”
“We are all big chaotic messes, see where we live JJ.” She laughed softly.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” JJ confessed against her lips.
“Neither would I.” She whispered back, kissing him softly.
Y/N pushed his shoulders back, making JJ fall softly against the mountain of blankets underneath them before she, in a moment of braveness, decided to take her dress of tossing it beside them, JJ’s mouth fell open watching her as he quickly sat back up colliding their bodies again. His lips roughly kissed hers making her mouth open slightly his he took the opportunity to brush his tongue against her, making Y/N moan at the feeling.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, kissing a trail of soft kissed down her neck to her shoulder while his hands traveled up her spin to her bra.
“Yes, please JJ.” Y/N whined. “I need you.” She admitted.
He was surprisingly fast to get rid of his clothes, picking her up off the ground and in a mess of limbs he managed to get her into the suite of the boat. It was simple but did the job. JJ had previously lit a few candles around the room and once Y/N saw them she smiled against his skin, kissing his neck with a smirk on her face.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this.” JJ said once he was on top of her.
“How many?” Y/N bit her lip pulling him down by his shark tooth necklace.
“Too many.” He admitted pulling her leg up his waist. “Every time you acted like a fucking brat.” He said against her skin. “I wanted to wrap my hand your neck.”
“Fuck.” Y/N moaned feeling his fingers tease her. “You can do it now.” She teasingly suggested.
“So good for me.” He whined pushing one finger inside her while his free hand moved up her body, wrapping it softly at first against her throat.
“Harder, please.” Y/N begged arching her back in the mattress.
JJ tighten his grip against her skin as he kept on moving his finger inside her easily due to her wetness, his thumb brushed softly against her clit in circular patterns that made her blood boil in ecstasy, she could feel how close she was to coming undone underneath him since her moans escaped through her lips easily.
“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” She moaned loudly feeling herself clench around his finger.
He kept moving as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear helping her ride her orgasm. When he removed his hand from her he licked his finger clean with a burning gaze on her that made Y/N moan at the sight.
“You taste so good sugar.” JJ said making her cheeks turn red with the compliment.
“Fuck me already.” Y/N begged wrapping her legs against his hips pulling him lower on her.
“Your wishes are my commands princess.” He winked at her with a soft laugh.
Their bodies connected in an euphoric electric rush, both feeling a strange relief as they been waiting for this very moment for the longest time. Both Y/N and JJ moaned and whimper as they tried to get a good grasp of the other, like they couldn’t get enough. She wanted JJ as close as possible to her and he did the same, grabbing her skin to pull her as close as possible.
“You’re so fucking tight, you’re taking me so so well. Fuck baby.” JJ rambled lost in pleasure as he felt her clenching tighter around his cock.
“I’m so fucking close JJ.” She mewled under him, crying out once he begin to tease her clit. The overstimulation becoming overwhelming.
“Let it go, cum princess.” He begged moaning, feeling his own realise dangerously close.
“Cum inside me JJ.” Y/N bluntly begged while she came, arching her back off the mattress.
“Y/N-” JJ whined with his hand over her throat, feeling his thrusts slow down to a sloppy pace.
“Please JJ.” She clawed down his back harshly. “I need to feel you.” Y/N moaned loudly. “I need you.” She cried out.
Looking down at her, seeing her mouth open, her lips red swollen, seeing her so fucked out was enough to send him over the edge, cumming deep inside her.
“Fuck.” He whispered hotly on her ear after pressing his sweaty body against hers. Y/N moved her hand up and down his body in a loving manner as he moved her hair off her face.
They stayed like that for a few minutes before JJ pulled out making her whimper in discomfort due to the sudden feeling of emptiness, he cooed her carressing her skin before he pulled her against him, embracing her.
“Let me grab a towel to clean you up.” He kissed her temple before he got up, dressing back his black boxers in the process, giving Y/N a perfect view of his back.
Once he came back and finished cleaning her JJ handed her his discarded tshirt to dress. He laid down next to her, pulling the sheets over them. Y/N cuddled tightly agains him, with her head on his chest, quickly starting to doze off in a sleepy state as JJ kept on playing with her hair kissing the top of her head a few times.
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Text
handmaid - 32
PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader
WARNINGS: age gap
A/N: i feel like i always make my couples dance but that’s because i think couple dancing is such an intimate thing that is so beautiful. anyway, the song they’re dancing to is this one (i absolutely adore the soundtrack of this movie, it makes my inner music geek happy), highly recommend listening to it when the time for the dancing comes. hope you enjoy this chapter x
NEXT CHAPTER
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Y/N stared at herself in the mirror in her pyjama shorts and bra, hands moving over her stomach. She always felt somehow detached from her own self whenever placed in mob parties, whenever Gwen told her what to do, whenever someone told her how to act or who to be but somehow the slight idea that there was something growing in her, someone who was gonna need her for the first years of their lives, someone who would know her as her and not as the handmaid for the Forrest heiress, other than Sebastian’s hidden and disbelieving mistress, other than an orphan. That is enough, and that would forever be enough to make her fight just a little for the little baby who wasn’t even the size of a small blueberry yet. 
She was so lost in her own reflection in the mirror she didn’t realise Sebastian had came in and was watching her from the door frame, small smile on his face from what he thought was a small act of vanity from the seemingly innocent woman. Coming up from behind her, he wrapped her arms around her waist, his hand slightly touching her stomach in a way that made her somehow escape the reality they both were in. In another life, Y/N would’ve probably come up with a quirky way to tell him she was pregnant and he would be happy, they would both paint the nursery in a neutral colour after arguing about what colour would be best, they would throw a baby shower and laugh at all the name suggestions and finally he would be by her side when the baby was born. But this wasn’t another life, this was life as it was and here she wasn’t even sure if she should tell him.
    - I’m sorry about Gwen. I’ll be sure to have a word with her about that. - he kissed her temple. - I still think you should see a doctor, angel. 
     - I’m alright, Seb. - she turned her back to the mirror, no longer wanting to see that unobtainable image that would most likely haunt her whenever her mind wasn’t preoccupied. Sebastian sighed, knowing he couldn’t force her to see a doctor. - I’m fine, I promise. 
     - Take a break from all of this. Let’s ... I don’t know, let’s go upstate until the wedding. - he suggested, not wanting her to be subjected to anymore of Gwen’s annoyance or any other mob business. - I’m sure we can figure something out so we ca ...
     - You don’t need to take care of me all the time. - she caressed his face, wondering if her baby would have his eyes. - Who takes care of you? 
     - I don’t need anyone to take care of me, I only need to take care of you. I am so sorry about Gwen, once again, she’s acting like a bridezilla lately. 
     - How was the tux fitting? 
     - It’s light blue as if we’re going to prom. - he chuckled yet Y/N couldn’t take the thought of the man she was in love with, the father of her unborn child, marrying the woman she’d known since they were both kids. Funny how she could’ve just listened to Dan and not go to his home when she could. It would’ve been so easy. - What’s going on inside your mind, angel? 
     - Just worries.
     - You don’t need to worry, angel. I will never let anything harm you. - this was no empty promise on his part. If Sebastian could and he could, he would never allow any harm to come to her, any scratch to be made or any hair to be pulled.  Y/N, however, for the very first time, was pessimistic believing that the harm had already been done. Before she could open her mouth to speak, the familiar rumble in her stomach made her whine before she rushed back to the bathroom yet despite how nauseous she was, she couldn’t throw up. Sebastian followed her, putting a hand on her back. - Maybe you need to eat something.
      - I’m okay. - she turned around, her back leaning against the toilet while her head leaned against his shoulder. - Probably just a bug or a very bad cold. 
      - You wouldn’t have to guess if you agreed to see a doctor like you should, angel. 
      - Are you lecturing me, now? - she chuckled lightly, eyes moving up to stare at his playful expression, trying to cheer up the environment. - Maybe I should eat something. 
    - Come on. - he got up, taking her hand in his. They both exited her bedroom and Sebastian led her to the dinning room. It was mostly hotel employees setting the tables for the dinning hour but what looked more interesting was the big long table at the end of the room full of entrées that looked like little pieces of delectable heaven. Y/N stared at the food, wondering from where she wanted to begin as she felt like eating the whole array by herself. Instead, she decided to pick a mini sausage roll, grabbing it by a toothpick and placing it into her mouth, the taste exploding in what she thought was the most pleasurable thing she had experienced today. 
Sebastian merely chuckled at her behaviour, finding charming how she always managed to look somehow interested in every single thing surrounding her, almost as if she hadn’t lost the childlike curiosity most of people lose as they enter the adulthood. She was just something else and all he wanted to do was just run away to somewhere quiet and get to wake up to her serene face for the rest of his life. Alas, not everything is what you want it to be. 
His thoughts were interrupted by the dinner pianist starting to play something rather soft and subdued yet melodically enough to break through the mix of silence with employees running in and out preparing for what was to come. Noticing Y/N was distracted picking another entrée, he walked to what looked like a guy in his mid 50′s and slipped him a note before returning to her. Soon enough, the melody changed.
Before she could pick something else from the table, he took her hand in his, walking her to an empty spot near the piano. In advance to her asking what he was doing, Sebastian held her hand to his chest, his free hand leaning against the side of her waist, creating a closeness so close the tip of their shoes almost touched. His torso and legs moved side to side in an intimate move only for the two of them. Y/N closed her eyes but Sebastian kept his open, looking at her head under his chin and imagining how life could be if things were different. Maybe if things were different they could run away somewhere to France, get a little place in Paris which she liked so much, a little place with a balcony that gave view to the city of love where every night they would dance to the same melody for hours and hours and then he would propose to her some night. Then things would move along and they would have a little one, maybe a little girl with the same beautiful eyes Y/N had, a little girl with whom he would dance in the balcony while Y/N watched while leaning against the wall. No mob, no killing, no targets, no contractual relationships, just two regular people living a regular life. Regular was enough for him. 
   - This is a very sad song. - she looked up to him, breaking through the silence. 
   - Sad slow songs are very beautiful. 
   - Doesn’t it make you sad? - she leaned her head against his chest, listening to his slow heart beat.
   - My mother used to play the piano constantly, it reminds me of her. 
   - Do you miss her?
   - I barely remember her, she and my father divorced pretty early. He got custody but whenever I hear slow piano music, it always reminds me of her. She was a good woman. 
   - She raised a good man. - Y/N’s free hand came up to caress his cheek, a soft dainty dreamingly look on her face. - You’re a good man, Sebastian. 
   - Do you even believe people are anything other than good? - he questioned, looking at her lovingly while the music put them but on a little dazed bubble which none of them really wanted to leave.
  - I believe everyone can be good yet not everyone chooses to. Kindness is achievable for everyone. 
   - How do you not get hardened by this life? Not to sound rude but you were born and raised by the mob, you know what we do. 
   - I get to chose who I am. Besides, it isn’t like Mr. Forrest let me or Gwen anywhere near the action. We were constantly in boarding school. 
   - Well... - the music changed and he looked around as the people started to come in for dinner. Before anyone could see the two of them, he stepped away from her, leaving her missing his touch and him still feeling her ghost strokes on his face. Sebastian was much too smart to know that if anyone discovered they were close, she would be in much more trouble than he would be. In all honesty, he didn’t think there would be any consequences for him, however, there surely would be some for her.
They were once again apart and the next days only seemed to worsen for Y/N. Between listening to Gwen complain about how the cake wasn’t right or how the napkins weren’t the right shade of periwinkle, she’d spend her free time constantly tired and wanting to sleep or feeling nauseous. Nevertheless, the much dreaded day came and Gwen had woke her up at an unfair 4 AM in the morning to get her hair and makeup “just right” as she said. However, it was rather hard to remain awake when Y/N face was constantly being massaged by very soft face brushes. 
    - Did you hear about Vanessa? - Gwen commented as her hair was pulled into rollers. - You know Vanessa, she went with us to university. She was supposed to be here but you will not believe it, she got knocked up. 
   - I need to congratulate her. 
   - No way, she’s knocked up by Joe, you know, dad’s friend’s son. Imagine being pregnant from a married guy, as if being pregnant wasn’t bad enough. 
   - Yeah, terrible. - she looked to the side as more makeup was applied to her face. - Would it be that bad though? 
   - Dad always said there’s only one thing worse than a mistress, a pregnant one. All that designer clothing she has, not gonna fit anymore. Oh god and breast feeding? Ugh, this is why I don’t want kids. 
   - Yeah ...
Sometimes you have to pull yourself out of dreamland and make a choice. No matter how hard it is. 
It was time for her to make her own.
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stale-cheezit · 4 years
Text
Dog Tags
 Summary: Tony holds a ball, and your boyfriend get’s a little distracted when he sees you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Word Count: 2,427
Warnings: there’s a lot of dialogue in this i’m sorry. swearing. smut. oral (male and female receiving) 
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You pop your lips together as you finish applying your red lipstick, Bucky’s favorite shade. Tonight is the ball Tony has been planning for a while. No one really knows why, he just felt the need to throw a party.
You had the perfect dress, a strapless, sparkly navy blue dress with a slit up the left leg. You have on a new red lingerie that you bought just for tonight. A knock at the door brings you out of your thoughts, “Y/N? Can I come in?” It’s Bucky
“One second! I’m still getting my dress on.” You quickly grab the dress off the hanger and slip it on, “You can come in now.” 
Moments later the door opens, Bucky’s jaw drops, “God doll...” He steps closer to you and puts his hands on your hips, “You look absolutely breath taking.” He whispers, kissing you gently. 
“Thank you, my love. You look quite dashing yourself,” You smile, “Mind helping me zip this up?” You turn around and pull your hair out of the way. 
“Of course.” Bucky zips your dress up for you and gives a light tap on your ass. 
“James.” You warn. 
“Oh pulling out the first name are we?” Bucky chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. 
“That I am,” You giggle, “Fuck I still need jewelry.” You go to your dresser and put on your rings, one being the promise ring Bucky gave you for Christmas this past year. While you’re rummaging through your necklaces trying to find one that will match, Bucky slips one around your neck. 
You look down at them, “Buck... Are these-” 
“My dog tags.” 
The metal is cold on your neck, “Bucky are you sure?” 
“They look gorgeous on you, doll. I wouldn’t want anyone else wearing them.” 
“Thank you, love. I love you.” 
“I love you,” Bucky kisses your head, “And you’re lucky we’re already late or I’d be pounding you into that mattress. I’ll save that for tonight.” He whispers.
Your eyes go wide and your breath gets caught in your throat. 
“Now let’s go before we’re any later that we already are.” 
Still in shock, you grab your navy stilettos and slip them on, grabbing Bucky’s hand and following him out of your room. 
The small comment remains in your head the entire way to where the party is being held. 
“Why is Tony doing this again?” Bucky asks, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. 
“Becuase “I’m Tony fucking Stark and I can do whatever the fuck I want,” as he put it.” You reply. 
After a thirty minute drive you arrive. Bucky holds the door open for you and the two of you walk in hand in hand. Wanda runs up to you as soon as she realizes you’re here. 
“Y/N! Finally!” Wanda hugs you, “You look hot!” 
“You look hotter! If i wasn’t taken I’d defiantly hit you up.” You wink and blow Wanda a kiss. 
“I’m right here.” Bucky sighs. 
“Bucky! Go talk to Stevie! I’m stealing yo girl.” Wanda grabs your hand and drags you to the bar. 
“There’s a lot more people than I expected.” You sigh, sitting on a stool next to Wanda. 
“I know. It’s very loud too.” 
“Who all do you think is here?” 
“All the Avengers, most of S.H.I.E.L.D. and probably random millionaires Tony knows.” 
“I’m already tired and I just got here.” You chuckle, pushing your hair behind your ear.
“Me too girl, me too- OH MY GOD!” Wanda squeals, “Are those Bucky’s tags?” 
“They are. He gave them to me earlier.” You smile, holding the dog tags in your fingers. 
You and Wanda continue talking when two glasses of whiskey are sat in front of you. 
“Um we didn’t order these.” Wanda smiles. 
“They’re from the gentlemen over there.” The bartender motions to our left. 
“Ohh,” Wanda smiles, “Thank you.” 
“Well I’m not gonna turn down a free drink.” You smirk, taking a sip of the alcohol. 
“Me neither,” You and Wanda cheers your drinks, “I’m going to go find Vision. I’ll be right back. You’ll be okay, right? I can send Bucky your way if I see him.” 
“I’ll be fine. Go find your man.” You smile as Wanda walks off. A few moments later one of the men who ordered your drinks comes up to you. 
“Is this seat taken?” He asks. 
“No, go ahead.” You say, having no intention at all of speaking to the man. 
“How’s your night going, beautiful.” He asks, you turn your nose up in disgust. 
“Good, yours?” You say, trying to be polite. 
“Better now that I’m talking to you.” 
You roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink. A loud crash makes you turn your attention to your left, away from the man. You see that the bartender just dropped a bottle. 
What you didn’t see, was the man next to you slipping something in your drink. 
Your fingers wrap around the glass, you start to take a drink when-
“Y/N!” You let go of the glass and turn around to see Steve. 
“Oh hey Steve!” 
“Y/N come with me, I want to show you something.” Steve grabs your arm and pulls you to the dance floor, “Dance with me?” 
“Only if I don’t have to be the man this time.” You smile, wrapping your arms around Steve’s neck, his hands rest on your hips. 
“Bucky’s in the bathroom, there’s a really long line so he asked me to come check on you. Then I saw that guy slip something in your drink.” 
Your eyes widen, “He what?” 
“When you looked away he roofied your drink.” Steve says, glancing back at the man. 
“That mother fucker.” You go to walk towards him to give him a piece of your mind when Steve’s grip on your waist tightens. 
“No. Tony’s taking care of him.” 
“We can’t tell Bucky, he’ll freak.” 
“Tony probably already notified him.” 
The two of you are silent for a minute, “Thank you Steve. You really saved my ass. God knows what would’ve happened.” 
“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” Steve smiles. 
The two of you continue dancing until Bucky approaches you, “Can I cut in?” 
“Of course. It was a pleasure dancing with you Miss L/N.” Steve kisses your knuckles. 
“Likewise Mr Rodgers.” You laugh and Steve walks away. 
Bucky kisses your knuckles, your arms wrap around his neck and his hands go on your waist. The two of you are much closer than you and Steve were. 
“Tony told me about that man.” 
You sigh, “Why do I have a feeling you did something.” 
“Because I did.” 
“Bucky...” 
“Tony and I just talked to him. And a couple punches. Fury fired him too.” 
“You satisfied?” You roll your eyes and smile. 
“Not really.” Bucky smirks and kisses you. 
The night goes on. You dance mostly with Nat and Wanda, but you steal quiet a few dances with Bucky, another with Steve, and one with Tony. You don’t drink anymore, aside from a few drinks you took from Bucky’s glass. Almost everyone is drunk or at least tipsy. Aside from you, and the two super soldiers as alcohol doesn’t affect them. 
You’ve spent half the night pulling your dress up so it doesn’t fall. Stupid strapless dresses. Bucky’s been eyeing you all night. You’ve made it a point to rub your ass against him as much as possible, as well as swaying your hips a lot more when dancing. 
“Hey baby.” You kiss his jaw. 
“Hey doll.” 
“I love youuuuu.” You smile, kissing his temple. 
“I love you too, babydoll.” Bucky’s grip on his drink tightens. 
You kiss his jaw again, this time biting him gently. 
“I think it’s time to go home, doll.” He says grabbing your hand and leading you outside. You don’t protest, following him. 
“Buck I’m in heels! I’m gonna fall.” You huff. Bucky stops and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. 
The car ride to the compound was silent, aside from Bucky tapping his foot, or the occasional kiss. 
When the car stops, Bucky opens the door for you. As soon as you get out of the car he shuts the door, and picks you back up. 
“Buckyyyyy.” You groan. Bucky sits you back down once you’re in the elevator. 
“You’ve been a very bad girl.” He growls, pinning you against the wall. 
“I’m sorryyy,” You drag out the word, “It’s hard not to tease when you were staring at me all night.” 
“It’s hard not to stare when you’re literally the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.” His lips connect to your neck. The elevator dings and the doors open. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you towards your room. Once the door is shut he attacks your lips and face with kisses. 
You kick off your heels and moan at the feeling of flat ground. Bucky’s hands unzip your dress, the fabric falls off your body and pools around your feet. 
Bucky doesn’t say anything when he sees the red lingerie. 
“Do you like it?” You ask, looking up with big e/c eyes. 
“You look stunning, as always. As much as i love it, I need it off you. Now.” 
You lock eyes with him as one hand reaches behind your back and unclasps the bra, letting it drop to the ground. Bucky’s lips attach to your nipple, his hand kneading the other. You moan as he softly bites your nipple. 
“I was gonna take it slow with you tonight, fuck you slow and gentle until you’re begging me to fuck you rough and fast. But with the way you acted tonight, and the way you looked in that dress...” Bucky leads you to the bed and pushes you down. His lips kiss up your neck and stop at your ear, “I’m going to completely destroy you.” He growls, unbuttoning his shirt and discarding it on the floor. 
You feel butterflies in your core, “Please..” 
Bucky presses a finger to your clothed core, earning a quiet gasp. You open your legs wider. Bucky pulls your panties off. Skilled fingers rubbing your clit. 
“Get on your knees, doll.” 
You quickly get up and sink to your knees. Immediately taking off his belt and sliding his pants and boxers down. His erection springs free. You lick your lips and press a kiss to the tip, a low groan leaves Bucky’s throat. Your eyes meet his as you sink your mouth around all of him. Bucky pushes your hair out of your face and holds it for you. 
You hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue around his length, bobbing your head up and down. 
“F-Fuck. You’re doing so good babydoll.” 
You fiddle with his balls as you continue to deep throat him, your eyes start to water a bit. You pull your mouth off him and look up to meet his eyes, your lips red and swollen. 
Bucky helps you up and kisses you, “You’re such a good girl for me.” He lays you on the bed and parts your legs, leaving sloppy kisses up your thighs. His eyes meet yours and he stops over your pussy, wanting to make sure you’re still okay with this. You nod, and he licks up your slick. A loud moan leaves your lips as he quickly laps at your folds. 
“Fuck... Bucky as much as I love you and your sinful mouth I need you inside me.” 
Bucky stops his motions, “Hands and knees.” He mutters, grabbing a condom out of the drawer and rolling it onto his cock. You get on your hands and knees, sticking your ass up in the air. Your wetness dripping out of you. “Are you ready?” He asks, lining up with your entrance. 
“Fuck yes.” 
He slowly slides into you, you moan at the feeling of him filling you up, but he slides completely out. As you go to protest he snaps his length back inside you. A small scream leaves your lips. Your face pressed into the mattress as he pounds inside you at an ungodly pace. Low grunts come from Bucky. His cock twitching inside you as he slams his hips to meet yours. 
His thumb reaches down to speedily rub circles on your clit, and his hand places a hard slap on your ass. 
“Bucky!�� You moan, the combination of him pounding into you and his fingers stimulating your clit bring you to the edge fast, “I-I’m gonna cum.” 
“Go ahead baby.” He says, quickening his fingers on your clit. You moan loudly into the mattress, your hands gripping the sheets as your orgasm rushes through you. Goosebumps appear on your skin and your legs begin to shake as you come down from the mind blowing orgasm. Bucky slowly slides out of you. 
“Buck wait you didn’t finish.” You say, sitting up on your knees. 
“I know.” He says, sitting at the headboard. He motions for you to sit on his lap. You straddle him, putting your arms around his neck. He brushes his lips against yours as you sink down onto him. You gasp as he fills you up.
Slowly you start to bounce on him, rolling your hips slightly. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you quicken your pace. You reach one hand down to rub your clit again, slamming your lips against Bucky’s. He takes your wrist and pulls it off your clit, you groan against his lips. His fingers replace yours and his hips snap up unintentionally. 
Your second orgasm comes faster than you expected it to. Your motions become sloppy as you get closer and closer to release. Bucky holds your hips and helps you ride out the orgasm. All your movements stop as shockwaves burst through you. Your pussy clenches around Bucky and as you come down from your high he hits his own orgasm. 
Strings of profanities leave his lips as he cums inside the condom. The two of you sit in silence, breathing heavily. 
“You look so good above me, with my dog tags around your neck.” Bucky smirks, looking at the dog tags that sit above your breasts. 
“Guess I’ll have to ride you more often then.” You smirk, kissing him. 
“I guess so.” Bucky mutters, against your lips. 
Your phone goes off, you glance at the nightstand to see a text from Steve. 
Stevie: Let me know when you two are done up there. I don’t want to be anymore traumatized than I was when I got home. Please use protection.
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lombredanslaeu · 4 years
Text
𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒖𝒕 | l.taeyong
plot: a letter for lee taeyong - the love of your life and the tear in your heart.
genre: angst, fluff
warning: messy writing lol, explicit scene
word count: 2401
proofread: no
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Dear Lee Taeyong,
I hope this letter finds you well. I’m not sure if I could ever gain the courage or the chance to say what I have to say to you. There are a lot of things I’m not sure about; one of which is how the universe crossed our paths. Was it just for the heaven’s comedy relief or was it because we were meant to find one another? I’m not sure which one I’ll believe. Nevertheless, I’m happy that day happened even if it’s cringy to look back at right now.
The university atrium was crowded with booths and students. Today was the first day of the organization recruitment week. Your brother told you about the joys of meeting new people by joining organizations that sparks your interest. So, you did not waste a second going to the busy fair.
You were currently lining up for the photography organization. To your dismay, there aren’t actually a lot of organizations that suits your interest. You enjoy taking photos and looking at them so you just opt for the photography org.
You were lost in your own world when a tap on your shoulder cut your reverie.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother,” The man said. He was taller than you, his features were smooth & pristine almost like a Disney character. He also sported a pink shade on his hair. “Can I borrow your pen? I’m really rushing to get a slot on the performing arts org.”
You looked down at the pen that placed on the small pocket of your blouse. You weren’t in a hurry but he was. Being the kind person you are, you gave it to him.
“Sure, here.” You placed the pen on his hand.
He muttered a series of “thank you”’s before scurrying off to the really busy performing arts line.
You went back to your own reverie. When you reached the front table, your hand went to the small pocket of your blouse. Your fingertips failed to feel the slim pen and you mentally groaned. Now, you were the one who’s in need of a pen. You looked back at the distant performing arts booth but failed to spot the pink-haired duded who borrowed your pen.
You never saw him again for the next two weeks; he never crossed your mind anyway. That was until a shadow towered over you while you sat in seclusion at the back of the lecture hall.
“I’m sorry for running away with your pain.” The pink-hair dude spoke above you. The vibrant hue on his head faded into a soft, bubblegum pink. That shade suits him better. “I saw you looking around for me when it was your turn to fill out the registration sheet.”
With that, he placed a new pen on your desk. It was wrapped with a small ribbon.
“I was supposed to return it to you but I saw you getting annoyed and I felt so bad.” He explained further.
You chuckled at his gesture. Sure, that event annoyed you back then but now, it just became a funny memory.
“It’s no problem.” You said. “Thank you-”
“Taeyong.” He continued.
There’s so many things to love about you, Yongie. I could list all the things I adore about you. From the way you’re always supportive of the people around you to the way your eyes shine whenever you perform in the university auditorium and you suddenly spot your friends in the crowd. I could go on and on but this letter would probably be ten pages long and I only have so much ink left in this pen. Yes, the same pen you gave me the second time we met. I never used it until today. It held so much sentimental value that if I were to merely use it on a quiz or lecture notes, I would immediately feel guilty. Actually, I retract that statement. I used it one time to fill out the application form for the first job I’m applying to. I was surprised that it still works. I would have thought that the ink has dried out already; after all, it’s been hidden somewhere on my desk until the day I went to that job interview.
You don’t have much time left. Your body clock got used to sleeping at an ungodly hour and waking up during the middle of the day. Your interview starts at 8:20 AM and it was already 7:30 AM. You thanked yourself for showering the night before as you don’t need to do much.
You hurriedly packed your necessities. You always bring a pen with you whenever you go; and with that, you grabbed a random pen sitting on your pen holder.
For some miracle, you made it before 8:20 AM. The secretary gave out a form for you to fill out. You reached for the pen inside your purse. The small jewel decoration at the top of the cap was reminiscent of the smile of the person who gave the pen to you. It was as if this was Taeyong’s way of saying good luck. Whenever you went, he was always there with you.
But as there were many things to love, there were also many things to hate. I feel like we are now in the situation where I’m finally free to talk about these things to you. To be frank with you, we had all the reasons and chances to communicate and talk about these problems. The thing is: we never did. Maybe it was because we came to the terms that we were falling apart. I don’t blame you. I, too, was scared of what would result if we ever had that conversation. To say that I don’t regret not pushing myself to fix everything would be an understatement. I regret everything, Taeyong. I regret not talking to you and making you suffer. I regret ever putting you into that light. However, I cannot help but point the blame to our situation that night. You weren’t talking either and I felt like I shouldn’t exert effort into someone who clearly does not want to fight with me. Was that how you felt that night? No, wait. Don’t answer that. It would crush me to know that it was only me who refused to accept that I was wrong.
You waited for hours. Normally, Taeyong would be the one to initiate a resolution, to seek a middle ground between the two of you. The clock was ticking towards midnight. In ten minutes, the eerie silence between the two of you would turn five hours old. The words you threw at one another bounced back and forth in your head, as if the walls of your brain were the same walls of your shared apartment.
“You never listen to what I have to say!”
“I don’t need to listen when I already saw it with my two eyes!”
“Are you hearing yourself?”
“Stop trying to make it seem like this is my fault.”
“You’re blowing this all out of proportion, of course it’s your fault!”
Before, you and Taeyong were magic. Right now, nothing was sparking aside from the raging frustration between the two of you. It’s been four years of you and him being lovers. Have you outgrown each other this quickly? Why did the fire burn out so quickly and who turned a blind eye on it?
“We’re not gonna fix anything if we just ignore each other.” You spoke. It was the morning after the fight. While you found yourself asleep on the bed, you found Taeyong asleep on the couch. You felt bad, his height is no match for the space the couch could offer. The urge to fix everything was demanding to be felt so here you are, in front of the office he works at.
“You don’t listen to me so what’s the point?” He replied, the look of impatience washing over his face.
“I didn’t come here to form another fight, Taeyong.” You said in a exasperated voice. Taeyong could right through you. You wanted to fix what happened last night. Along with that came a tinge of fear in his heart. He’s scared that your proposition in fixing everything was to take a break or worse, break up. He doesn’t want that.
“Then, you shouldn’t have came here at all.”
What would you do when your ex suddenly calls you at 3:00 AM on a Saturday asking to hold you once more? You weren’t drunk so I believed everything that you said. That was my mistake. I failed to realize that alcohol isn’t the only thing that could make you do things out of your control. Loneliness is a dangerous drug as well. I have to admit that I slept with you not because I missed you but because I was afraid I would never feel loved again. Looking back now, I definitely came back running because I love you. Not because I miss you, but because I was pathetically in love with you and I was scared I don’t know how to stop it. I was willing to swallow my pride, to swallow everything my mother taught me about loving myself because I wanted to feel you with me again.
His hands roamed around your naked torso. Taeyong’s hand were different from the other boys who have touched you before. His lips fluttering kisses all over your neck. For a moment, it felt like you were his and he was yours again; even though the current circumstances tells you otherwise. Your shirt was the first to go, followed by your bra.
You knew the implications of your actions. But all rationality seemed to evacuate from your system the minute his cock bottomed out inside of you. Each hard thrusts signifies his longing and his need to be yours again. Although he can never say these things out loud, he sure did rely them on his actions. You felt like the universe is about to explode inside of you and finally, when it cracks, you get to see a slice of heaven. Taeyong leaned down to kiss your quivering lips, his breathing as deep as his thrusts.
“I bet no one could ever fuck you like this.” He spoke above you, eyes as dark as the sins he was doing to your body.
But I’m over all of it now. I’m over being helplessly in love with you and doing nothing to stop myself from running back to you all the time. I’m done throwing myself under the fire of missing you each time our favorite song plays on shuffle. I’m done worrying about doing things we used to do together, I’m done being afraid if those things will trigger a memory of you. We had grown up over the years and so does how I feel about you. The minute I realized I don’t want to feel okay without you is the minute I realized all the mistakes that we could have easily corrected but never did.
You’re not accepting this fate. You refuse to accept a life that would be spent without Taeyong by your side. There are a lot of things you’re not sure about except for one thing - you would conquer all the odds just to make sure it was him you’re spending the rest of your life with. You just don’t know how and when to make him realize that you’re always down for him.
Him, on the other hand, was racing through traffic to get to where you are. Today was your birthday - your first birthday without him to be exact. All it took was one look at the calendar for Taeyong to realize that he shouldn’t be afraid of mending things with you. Because even if the situation gets rough, you would always be by his side. He mentally cursed himself for ever being scared of talking shit out.
But when he saw you celebrating with your friends and a smile too beautiful it could move a thousand seas, he wonders if he was too late.
Taeyong, you taught me how to be mature. You taught me how to be forgiving even if the people around me aren’t. Most importantly, you taught me how to love fully, madly, and truly. And for that, I cannot thank you enough. I cannot thank you enough for showing me that love isn’t always beautiful but it is always kind. Your love keeps no records of wrongs and I don’t think a love like that could ever exist within anyone else. Thank you for borrowing my pen during the college fair. If I could turn back time and make everything easy for us, I would. You have no idea how much I want to that. But, alas, I can’t. So for now, we just have to live with the burned pages of our past. It is up to you if you want to bury at the back of your mind or if you want to paste them all over your walls. I’m sorry for the pain I gave you - please never forget that it was the last thing I could ever want to give you.
For the love that I will always rejoice upon even in my last living hours, I sincerely thank you.
See you tomorrow at the altar.
 Yours until the sun no longer shines,
Y/N.
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