#i just really like ducks; ic

[helldustedstories]

@madefate asked: Little Charlie makes sure her slippered steps are muffled - maybe she doesn't need to sneak downstairs, but it feels ... right. She holds the book in her grip tight and doesn't stop until she sees light spilling through a barely cracked door and her eyes light up. Even if Mama eventually comes to get her and bring her back to bed, nothing can dampen the excitement that stirs in her heart as she slips into her Dad's study.

There's always so many lights in here, little things moving and twinkling - it's like stepping into a whole other world. She stays quiet until she's right by Lucifer's leg, shyly pressing the book against it, looking up at him with hope shining in her gaze.

❝ - You didn't get to hear the story tonight, ❞ she says, offering her prize up. ❝ Bedtime stories are important. ❞

unprompted // always accepting

Even though it sometimes took him a while to be able to start a project, once Lucifer managed to get things going on what he was working on, he could get lost in it for hours. He frequently had to be reminded to eat, to sleep, to take breaks when he really got goin, and even then, there were times he struggled with putting what he was working on down if he was really fixated on it.

He'd been trying to be better about that today, had wanted to make sure to be there for Charlie's bedtime story, so he could tell her goodnight when it was done, could tuck her up into her little bed and just watch her for a little while, smile on his face, as she drifted off to sleep.

Lucifer had meant to set an alarm, so he could check the time, could keep better track of it, had even opened his phone to the app….but he'd never pressed the button. Which meant that he didn't have any idea how much time had passed while he was working on the mechanism in front of him. It was for Charlie, but it wasn't more important than spending time with his daughter; his brain simply would not let him put the idea down, not until he'd made at least some progress on it.

As it turned out, he'd been so focused on what he was doing that he had hadn't had any idea how much time had passed since he'd started working.

But the moment he feels something press against his leg, the moment he looks down to see his daughter standing by him, a book held in her hands, he abandons what he'd been working on, puts down his tools.

❝ - You didn't get to hear the story tonight. Bedtime stories are important, ❞ she says, holding up her book, very seriously. Lucifer offers her a bright grin, scooping her up into his arms and just….giving her a big hug before anything else.

"You are absolutely right," he says solemnly, looking down at Charlie, at features that were so like his own. He considers for a moment, then carries her over to the cot he keeps in the here, in case he needs to crash but doesn't want to bother Lilith. Lucifer takes a moment to lay down, Charlie sitting beside him, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"I'm ready," Lucifer tells her seriously. Sometimes she wanted to be the one to read the story, and he didn't want to take that away from her, if that was what she wanted. But if she preferred to have her story read to her, he would only be too happy to oblige. Whatever made his little girl smile was what he wanted; that was all that mattered.

[ayakinari]

i think i should be allowed to skip tomorrow’s swimming exam. just because

[bestial4ngel]

My god, the duel from great comet seriously has no right to be so good

[sugugasm]

“NERDS DO IT BETTER.” | satoru gojo

⟡ tags : nerd! satoru + popular! yn, gojo loses his virginity at the hot cheerleader’s house party - content includes : reader uses she/her pronouns, fem! reader, riding, fingering, inexperienced! gojo, pet names, etc. also shout out 2 my fav @ramonathinks m’ so proud of this piece bae i hope you luv it jus as much as i do !!! MDNI 19+ 3.7K WC

satoru adjusted his glasses nervously as he and geto approached the sprawling mansion, music and laughter spilling out into the warm night air. “i don’t know about this, man,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. “parties aren’t really my scene.”

geto rolled his eyes. “come on, live a little! when was the last time you got out and socialized? besides, you-know-who will be here . .” he elbowed gojo with a knowing grin.

gojo flushed, ducking his head. “like [★] would even look twice at me. she’s so far out of my league it’s not even funny.”

“well yeah, not with that attitude!” geto chided. “you’re a catch, gojo. smart, funny, stupid handsome. any girl would be lucky to have you. just talk to her, be your charming self. what’s the worst that could happen?”

“she could laugh in my face?” gojo suggested glumly. “or have her quarterback boyfriend beat me up?”

geto sighed in exasperation, slinging an arm around his best friend's shoulders. “you’ll never know if you don’t try. [★] is single and i’ve seen her checking you out in class when she thinks no one’s looking. trust me, you’ve got a shot. don’t waste it being a pussy.”

gojo took a fortifying breath as they crossed the threshold into the packed house. “okay. i’ll talk to her. but if i crash and burn, you owe me a whole tub of ice cream and a weekend of binge gaming, no complaints.”

“deal,” geto agreed easily, scanning the crowd. “now let’s get you a drink and go find your dream girl.”

and within only an hour and several red solo cups later, gojo could be found sandwiched between two jocks on a couch, only half-listening to their drunken debate about the upcoming game. his eyes kept flicking to where you held court across the room, radiant in a barely-there crop top and mini-skirt as you laughed with your girls. you were a vision, beautiful hair and glowing skin and dangly earrings catching the light. ethereal, untouchable.

what would a goddess like you possibly want with a loser like him?

and as if on cue, your gaze met his and your glossy lips curved in a small secret smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. his breathing hitched and he looked away quickly, face heating. okay, maybe geto had a point about you noticing him . . .

“who wants to play seven minutes in heaven?” your bubbly friend tiffany trilled over the music, brandishing an empty vodka bottle. “let’s make things interesting!”

wolf-whistles and drunken cheers met her suggestion as people began arranging themselves in a loose circle. gojo watched you toss your hair over your shoulder as you joined, a strange fluttering in his stomach. he jumped when geto clapped him on the shoulder.

“dude, this is perfect!” geto crowed. “the ideal low-pressure way to get some one-on-one time with [★]. let's get you in that circle.” he started pulling a sputtering gojo up off the couch.

“wha-geto, no way!” gojo protested, but it was too late. geto had already shoved him into the circle, right across from you. you quirked an eyebrow at him and his stomach somersaulted. was that a pleased gleam in your eyes?

the bottle made a few uneventful rounds - geto got seven giggly minutes with the head of the drama club, a blushing band student got dragged off by her fellow tuba player, and then . . tiffany passed the bottle to you with a significant look. gojo’s heart started smacking against his chest as you placed it in the center and gave it a deft spin, slender wrist twisting gracefully.

he watched with bated breath as the bottle rotated, transfixed. it seemed to spin for an eternity before finally slowing . . and stopping. neck pointed directly at gojo. blood roared in his ears as hoots and hollers erupted around the circle. you were looking right at him, a small smile playing about your glossy lips. “guess s’ jus’ you n’ me, cutie,” you said with a wink, getting elegantly to your feet.

in a daze, gojo stumbled upright, barely registering the good-natured ribbing and back slaps from the other players. you held out a hand to him and he took it automatically, skin tingling where it met yours. your fingers laced intimately through his as you tugged him away from the group . . . and toward the stairs?

“um, [★]?” gojo asked, voice cracking humiliatingly. “isn’t the closet that way?”

you threw a smile over your shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “i got a better spot in mind. somethin’ more . . private.”

by the time his sluggish brain processed the implications of that, you were leading him into a bedroom. your bedroom, if the riot of pink and stuffed animals everywhere was any indication. you flicked on a lamp, bathing the space in soft flattering light.

gojo stood awkwardly by the door, heart doing double-time as he drank in the adorable organized chaos. various raye, boygenius, and sanrio posters on the walls, rainbow lego sets on the shelves. it was delightfully telling and somewhat . . surprising, so at odds with your smokeshow attitude and queen bee reputation. he was utterly charmed.

“sorry about the mess,” you said, sounding uncharacteristically shy as you perched on the edge of the lacy bedspread. “i know it’s a lot.”

“no, i love it!” gojo blurted, then winced. real smooth. “i mean, it’s really cute. suits you.”

“yeah?” you asked, sounding pleased. you patted the space beside you in clear invitation. “i don’t bite . . unless i’m asked nicely. c’mon, come sit with me, gojo.”

on slightly unsteady legs, he crossed the plush rug to sink down next to you, hyperaware of the warmth of your bare thigh against his denim-clad one. “so, um, i don’t really know how this is supposed to go,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. “i’m not exactly a seven minutes in heaven expert.”

“well, we’ve got some time to figure it out together,” you said, angling your body toward his. “maybe we could start with just talking? get to know each other a little?”

so that’s what you did. you started off with the typical small talk - classes, hobbies, favorite bands. but the conversation quickly deepened and expanded. you found yourself opening up to him, confessing your secret dreams and fears, things you rarely shared with anyone. in turn, he revealed his geeky passions, his insecurities, his hopes for the future.

the more you learned about the sweet, clever, quietly funny boy beneath the nerdy exterior, the more your heart softened and warmed. he was so genuine, so different from the jocks and rich boys you usually ran with. being with him felt comfortable, natural, intoxicating.

at some point, you’d shifted closer to him on the bed, your folded legs overlapping his, shoulders brushing. as you giggled your way through an anecdote, you rested a hand on his strong thigh without thinking. he tensed slightly and you felt a little thrill, a flicker of heat. you squeezed gently, fingertips pressing into firm muscle.

“m’ probably boring you,” you said with a wry smile, glancing at him through your lashes. “jus’ rambling on about myself. we could do something else, if you want. maybe, y’know, uphold the seven minutes tradition . .”

he inhaled sharply and you thrilled at the effect you were clearly having on him. “you mean . . you want to kiss me?”

“i mean, i definitely wouldn’t object,” you murmured coyly. “i like you a lot, satoru. in case it isn’t already obvious.”

his blue eyes darkened behind his glasses. “i really like you too, [★],” he said, voice low and rough. “an embarrassing amount.”

“yeah?” you breathed. “so are you going to kiss me, or . . do i have to beg?”

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “well, um. i-i’ve never really done anything like that before,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “i don’t even know how i’ve gotten this far.”

“that’s okay,” you assured him, placing a hand on his knee and feeling him tense slightly under your touch. “we can take it slow, figure it out together. m’ not exactly an expert either.”

he nodded, looking relieved and grateful for your understanding. emboldened, you leaned in, giving him time to pull away. spoiler alert, he didn’t. his eyes just fluttered closed as you brushed your lips softly over his. they were warm and smooth, molding sweetly to your own. after a moment of stillness, he started to move his mouth tentatively against yours.

you let him set the pace, parting your lips in silent invitation. his tongue shyly traced the seam of your mouth and you opened for him on a sigh. he licked inside carefully, exploring you with gentle curiosity that made warmth bloom through your veins. you stroked your tongue along his, encouraging, and felt him shudder against you.

slowly, you sank back into your mountain of pillows, pulling him down with you. he settled over you carefully, a pleasant weight, strong and solid in all the right places. your fingers tangled in his dark hair as the kisses deepened, wetter, hotter. his own hands skimmed down your sides to settle on your hips, squeezing gently as he rocked subtly against you.

when you finally broke apart, you were both flushed and breathing unsteadily. “is this okay?” you checked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “we can stop anytime if you’re uncomfortable.”

he shook his head immediately, eyes dark and intense behind his slightly fogged glasses. “no, i don’t wanna’ stop. i want you so bad, [★]. i’m just nervous i’ll do something wrong.”

your heart melted. “you won’t, satoru,” you promised. “we’ll go slow, i’ll show you. s’ all a process, ‘kay? jus’ do what feels good.”

he nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame. you pulled him back down for another kiss, lush and lingering. as your mouths moved together, you fumbled for the hem of his shirt, rucking it up his back. he broke away just long enough for you to pull it over his head and toss it aside before his lips found yours again.

your hands roamed his bared torso greedily, marveling at the lean muscle, the heat of his skin. gojo might look like a lanky nerd at first glance, but his body told a completely different story. you wanted to map every ridge and plane with your hands and mouth, discover all the secret places that would make him shake and gasp and moan. he shivered as your fingers skimmed over his ribs, his stomach, thumbs just brushing his nipples.

he made a hungry sound into your mouth when you lingered there, circling the tender buds questioningly. taking the hint, you tweaked them gently, rolling the sensitive flesh between your fingers. he jolted against you as if electrified, a moan vibrating in his chest.

“y’like that,” you guessed, doing it again and feeling his hips stutter forward helplessly into the cradle of your thighs.

“y-yeah,” he breathed, sounding almost surprised himself. “it feels really good.”

spurred on by his responsiveness, you devoted yourself to taking him apart, finding all the places that made him twitch and pant and whimper so sweetly. you kissed across his collarbones, scraped your teeth over his pulse point, soothed the sting with your tongue. you felt dizzy with him, drunk on the salt of his skin, his scent of clean and arousal, the incoherent sounds he made under your touch.

before long he was squirming restlessly against you, hard and insistent against your hip. “please,” he mumbled into your hair. “i need . .”

“what do you need?” you coaxed, nipping at his jaw. “tell me.”

he shuddered, hands flexing on your hips as he ground subtly against you. “i need — fuck, i need to touch you. need you to touch me. god, [★], i don’t know, i just . . please?”

“shhh, don’t stress, honey,” you soothed even as heat surged through you at his breathless plea. “let me take care of you.”

hooking a leg around his waist, you flipped your positions in one smooth motion, straddling his hips. he gazed up at you with something like awe, eyes wide and dark, lips kiss-swollen. your heart tripped over itself at the picture he made, wrecked and wanting in your rumpled sheets. quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you stripped off your own top and unhooked your bra, baring yourself to his heated stare. his hands came up immediately to cup your breasts, palming the soft weight greedily before catching your nipples between his fingers.

“aah!” you gasped, arching into the touch as sparks shot down your spine to throb between your legs. your hips rolled down against his, your clothed sexes grinding together deliciously. “y-yes, gojo, jus’ like that!”

emboldened by your encouragement, he explored your body just as thoroughly as you had his, broad hands and curious fingers finding all your most sensitive places. you were panting and mewling by the time he reached the button of your skirt with a questioning glance.

“please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips to help him shimmy the fabric down your legs. your panties quickly followed, leaving you bare to his burning gaze. and slowly, almost reverently, he reached out to touch — he couldn’t help it, fingertips skimming up your inner thighs. you shivered and parted them further in silent invitation. his eyes locked on yours as he carefully traced your slick folds, circling your aching entrance before moving up to swirl over your clit.

“show me how you like it?” he rasped, voice low and rough with arousal.

biting back a whimper, you covered his hand with your own, directing his movements. “like this,” you instructed breathlessly, guiding his fingers in tight circles over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “a little firmer, mmm . .”

he followed your lead perfectly, rubbing and stroking until your thighs were quaking and you were moaning brokenly. it felt good, so good, but you needed more. “inside,” you pleaded when coherent thought became difficult. “gojo, please, put one inside . .” he swore under his breath at your words but quickly obeyed, carefully sinking one long finger into your fluttering heat. you cried out sharply at the intimate penetration, hips canting down to take him deeper. he watched your face avidly as he started to pump in and out, curling and twisting gently as he went.

“m-more,” you gasped, head thrown back as he found a particularly sensitive spot. “another, toru, i can take it.”

he groaned like he was the one being pleasured as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, stretching you so exquisitely. he scissored gently, working you open, before crooking them just right to rub firmly against your g-spot.

you collapsed forward onto his chest with a fractured moan, fingers scrabbling at his heaving shoulders as he massaged that magic button with devastating accuracy. you knew you could easily come just like this, spitted on his clever fingers, but it wasn't what you wanted. not for your first time together.

“gojo,” you panted, catching his wrist to still his movements. “i wan’ you inside . .”

his eyes widened with understanding and he swallowed audibly. “a-are you sure?” he asked hoarsely even as his hips twitched up against yours eagerly.

“i’ve never been more sure of anything,” you said fiercely, holding his gaze so he could read the sincerity there. “i wan’ you, all of you. please.”

he nodded jerkily. “i want you too,” he said, voice low and intent. "so much, you have no idea.”

then he was kissing you again, hot and urgent, his tongue delving deep as large hands palmed your ass, rocking you against his straining erection. you moaned into his mouth, already imagining how he would feel inside you, stretching and filling you so perfectly.

together, you managed to wrestle him out of his jeans and underwear, your focus narrowing to the breathtaking sight of him laid bare beneath you. all long limbs and lean muscle, skin flushed with arousal, cock thick and hard against his taut stomach. he was beautiful, exquisite, unreal.

“let me . . .” you murmured almost to yourself as you shifted down his body, wanting to taste, to tease. but he caught your shoulders, stopping you.

“next time,” he said with a slightly shy smile at odds with the high color in his cheeks, the stark arousal in his gaze. “i don’t think i’d last right now and i really, really want to be inside you when i cum. if-if that’s okay.”

oh, that was more than okay. it was basically the hottest thing you'd ever heard. “definitely okay,”you confirmed a little breathlessly, reaching for the condom you’d stashed optimistically in your nightstand.

with trembling hands, you opened the packet and rolled the latex down his rigid length. he twitched in your grip when you gave him a few strokes, thumb swirling through the bead of moisture at his tip. “fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back. “you gotta stop or i'll . .”

“i know, baby. i know,” you soothed, moving to straddle his hips once more. your eyes locked as you notched him at your entrance, his hands coming up to grip your hips almost hard enough to bruise. “ready?” at his jerky nod, you sank down slowly, taking him inch by careful inch. he stretched you exquisitely, walls fluttering to accommodate his girth. when your hips met his, you were both panting, pulses racing, skin flushed with pleasure-pain.

“god,” he choked out after a long moment, sounding absolutely wrecked. “you feel incredible. so fucking tight.”

you clenched around him experimentally, walls hugging him ever so sweetly, and he bucked up into you with a low groan. “gojo,” you gasped, nails digging into his chest. “you’re so deep, so big . .”

“am i hurting you?” he asked, brow creased with concern even as he visibly struggled to keep still.

“n-no,” you assured him. “no s’ perfect, you feel fucking perfect. jus’ . . go slow. lemme’ adjust.”

he did, rocking into you with shallow little thrusts that gradually deepened as you relaxed around him. soon you were moving together, finding a rhythm, the drag of him in and out sparking pleasure along every nerve ending. you leaned down to kiss him messily, all tongue and panted breaths as your hips rolled and ground in tandem.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted between kisses, hands roaming restlessly over your back, your breasts, your ass. “wanted you. still can’t believe this is real.”

“s’ real,” you promised breathlessly, rising and falling faster on his cock as the tension coiled tighter in your core. “i’m real and i’m yours, gojo, all yours . .”

he made a rough sound, fingers digging into your hips as he started thrusting up harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you on every stroke. “mine,” he agreed, voice gravelly and low, sending shivers down your spine. “my [★], fuck, you’re absolutely perfect . .”

you could only moan in response, lost to the sensation of him moving inside you, hitting you so deep, stoking the fire in your belly to an inferno. your thighs burned, sweat blooming on your skin as you chased your peak, so close, almost . .

gojo was close too, you could tell by the telltale twitch and throb of him inside you, his thrusts going erratic. “m’ gonna’ cum,” he warned hoarsely, fingers scrabbling at your hips. “m’ gonna’ cum, m’ gonna’ cum . . i-i can’t h-hold —”

“yes - yes, yes, yes,” you gasped, grinding down hard, fingers flying over your clit. “cum in me satoru, wanna feel you, baby . .”

his hands grip your ass cheeks, spreading them apart before giving you two more sharp thrusts, leaving him cumming with a guttural moan of your name, pulsing hot inside you as you clenched and rippled around him. the feeling of him throbbing and spilling in you was enough to tip you over the edge, a cry tearing from your throat as you shattered around him, cumming so hard you saw white.

you collapsed onto his chest as aftershocks rolled through you, his hips still rocking shallowly into yours, drawing out your mutual pleasure. for a minute, you just panted together, sweat cooling on your skin, pulses calming. you felt him soften up and slip out of you and winced a little at the loss, a tender ache between your thighs. you’d have beard burn too, you just knew it. but it had been more than worth it.

satoru’s hands continued to stroke your back, your hair, as if he was reluctant to let go. you felt the same, luxuriating in his warmth, his scent, the sound of his heartbeat thumping steadily beneath your ear. you never wanted to move.

eventually though, he shifted beneath you and you lifted your head to find him gazing at you with soft, wondering eyes. “hey,” he said quietly, brushing your now-wild hair back from your face. “so, are we like, y’know . .”

“dating?” you finished, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “yes, but only if you want that.”

his answering smile was like the sun coming out. “y-yeah, yeah. i want that. i’ve always wanted that.” he leaned up to kiss you slow and deep, tongue delving languorously into your mouth. “thank you. for showing me. for everything.”

“right back at you,” you murmured against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst. “m’ glad i got the chance.”

“me too.” he nuzzled his nose against yours sweetly. “so . . whaddo’ you wanna’ do now?”

you pulled back slightly to search his face, seeing both hope and trepidation there. “well, i was thinking . . maybe we could cuddle for a lil’ while longer. then, i dunno’, raid the flooded kitchen for snacks. come back up here n’ skip the party . . we could watch a movie? kinda jus’ . . see where it goes.”

relief and happiness shone from his eyes. “i’d really like that. a lot.”

“good.” you pecked his lips once more before settling back onto his chest, ear pressed over his heart. “s’ a date then.” you knew you’d have to leave this little bubble eventually, face the real world and whatever challenges it might bring. but right now, you didn’t care about any of that. right now, you had gojo, warm and solid beneath you, his fingers laced gently through your hair as exhaustion started to pull you under. you had this perfect moment, and the promise of more to come.

as you drifted off, lulled by his heartbeat and even breathing, a small smirk played about your lips.

damn, guess the rumors were true.

nerds really did just do it better.

★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent.

[hoshigray]

Hi hi LOVEEE YOUR WORKK

The way you write kinda touches my heart, and tingles my brain a little too

Especially your jjk fics!!!

Do you mind if I request a kind of angst smut fic of reader leaving home to blow off some steam after having a heated argument with any JJK man and he comes out to find her and resolve 😼😼🤭 it in the car?

Thank you for reading thisss 🫶

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: awww, ty for liking my stuff!! i was supposed to release a sugu fic today (but didn't, yikes, lmao), so imma make this sugu~

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - angst + reconciliation - sex in a public area; car out in the neighborhood - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and licking) - feedbag position - oral (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, pretty thing, my love, pumpkin, sweetheart) - implied insertion at the end - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

“…”

“Y/n, what are you doing?.”

“You can’t see I’m taking a walk?”

“Please just get inside the car.”

“Leave me alone, Geto!”

Geto winces at the use of his family name. Oh fuck, they really are mad at me…

You were walking on the pavement, your anger exhibited through your feet, stomping as you traveled down the concrete floor in the supposed quiet neighborhood. Unfortunately, you weren’t alone; your boyfriend drove slowly to match your speed and speak with you. 

Why were you angry? Why don’t you ask the fucking asshat following you in that car of his? The two of you had a terrible argument not too long ago, and you’re sure the neighbors of your complex must’ve heard the audible insults and blows you two threw at each other for almost an hour. You hadn’t expected things to be blown out of proportion – it’s not unusual for people in relationships to argue. However, if your partner insidiously says something that he knows will tip you off the scales, are you not inclined to exit the apartment to blow off some steam before you choke him to death and have a murder charge on your record?

“Baby, c’mon, you can’t just keep walking on the sidewalk like this.”

So here you are, out for an evening stroll meant to calm you down, yet it’s doing the opposite since a certain someone is trailing alongside you. 

You suck your teeth, “Geto, go home! Why are you even following me?”

The tall black-haired man ducks down for you to see him from the driver’s window. “Because I feel bad!”

“Good!” You bark. “Good that you feel bad; feel nothing but bad, so just leave me be.”

“You know I can’t do that; look how dark out it’s getting!” It was around nine in the evening. The sun had just finished setting, so its shine was dwindling, and the twilight was mere minutes away from transitioning to dusk. “You can’t be walking out alone; just get in the car.”

“Hmph, absolutely not,” you can feel the crease of your furrowed brows worsening. “I’m heading to get homemade ice cream from that place I like; it’s the only thing that can put my mind at ease right now, and seeing your face and hearing your voice isn’t doing anything good for my mood right now.” 

The flat line of Geto’s lips is pressed harder, guilt swelling in the pitch of his gut like no other. “…I’ll take you to the place. Just hop in.”

“I’d rather get shot.” Apparently, your boyfriend doesn’t get the ‘don’t want to hear or see you’ part you stressed about literally seconds ago.

“That’s what I don’t want! Do you have any idea how long the walk is?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m very aware, and you’re slowing me down with all this chat.”

“Yeah, but you won’t get to that place until around ten o’clock,” he argues. And then that’s another hour and a half walking back; you’d probably be back home by midnight!” 

You couldn’t lie; hearing him be so concerned about you and your safety made you feel a little warm from the early summer breeze touching the exposed skin of the halter top. However, a part of your stubbornness refused to stand down. And yet the more you looked towards you, the further it felt like you’d reach your destination. He’s right; you wouldn’t make it home in time. Plus, it’s getting darker by the second, the comforting blue hue of the sky being absorbed by the bright, dominant moon. 

Once you come to an abrupt stop, Geto nearly forgets to hit the brakes, and your figure stands motionless and silent. Then, you move towards the door behind the driver’s side, opening the door to sit in the backseat. You beat Geto to the punch, breaking the silence, “Don’t talk, just drive.”

A soft, relieved sigh leaves the onyx-headed man, but he notices you avoiding the rearview mirror, where purple eyes flicker to try to see you. “…Is this really necessary?”

“What is?”

“You sitting in the backseat?” 

“What does it matter to you? I’m in the car, aren’t I?”

“What the hell am I, you Uber? Get in the front.”

“No. You said you’d drive me, so do that, and don’t make me angrier than I already am.” 

You thought you won the round when you didn’t hear a remark from your companion. Yet, that wasn’t the case because the man opened and closed his door, walked around the car to open the door to the other side of the backseat, and it takes everything in your power not to pop a vessel when he takes a seat. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m very serious,” he closes the door. 

“Are you deaf? I said I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“And are you blind; can’t you see me trying to make this work—“

“Work?” Oh, how you wanted to burn this car up. “You should’ve thought about that when you said what you said back there.” You didn’t know if it was right to say that—That sounded mean, was it mean?—yet it came from a place of hurt that he caused.

Your words strike deep into Geto, but he still speaks his mind. “Y/n, please…Can you at least look at me?” You don’t move a muscle. “I’m your boyfriend, so can you at least look at my face and not push me—“

“Yeah, you are my boyfriend,” malice in your tone. “And you’re doing a pretty terrible job as of today.”

“Y/n—“

“God!” Now, you finally turn to him with vexation scorching your pupils. “I just want to be left alone–away from you, alright! What part of that don’t you get?! Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Because I’m sorry!”

Your lips nearly quiver at the snap of those three words, eyes on the brink of shedding tears. Nonetheless, your face returns to the front. “Bullshit…H-Hey, let go!”

“I told you, I’m being very serious!” Geto brings you in for an embrace, and your resistance is hushed down as he keeps talking. “Look, I…I’m sorry. What I said back there…I didn’t mean for it to hurt you like it did, baby. You said something before that made me angry and…” his hold on you gets tighter; you notice even if you’re busy hearing every word from his mouth. “I didn’t think what I said would make you leave, and I got scared.” His mellow voice delves into a hushed tone. “So fucking scared…I’m sorry, Y/n. Just…don’t leave me out like that, okay…”

And with that, the remnant of your irritation ceased. The hotness of your blood subsides to a calm flow, your body easing into the hug as his apology repeats in your mind. You couldn’t think about your argument before; you just can’t, not with an apology like this when you can feel and hear him be genuine and vulnerable. You wanted to be angry with him–you tried– but the more you forced the outrage, the more you kept burrowing your head into his chest and your hands wrapped around his slim figure. 

“You’re such a dick, do you know that?” Doing everything you can not to cry since his face is nestled in the crook of your neck. “And…I’m sorry for saying stuff that made you mad at me, too.”

“Guess we’re both dicks, huh.” A joke meant to make you giggle, but he doesn’t sense the jerk of your shoulders. “Hey, I’m sorry. You forgive me?”

“Sure,” you murmur. “After you get me that ice cream.” Your jest made him chuckle instead.

“Mmm, on it,” your breath stops at the kiss on your temple. “But, before that,” he lifts his head, violet eyes examining your expression. “Don’t you think I should also have a little something?”

His question confuses you until you feel the grasp of his hand sneak inside your jeans, and the bare flesh of your ass meets the mild cold of his fingertips. “Suguru, what are you—“

“Compensation,” he kisses your neck, and you gasp at another rough knead on your asscheek. 

“Oh, that’s bull…Mmm.”

“Oh? So you can have ice cream to forgive me, but I can’t have anything?” The hand is then lifted out to move to the front, his gingers pressing on the part of your panties that cover your groin. “Well, aren’t you selfish.”

You couldn’t question his logic with his digits now motioning up and down your concealed cunt, your legs spreading apart as Geto’s forearm pushed them aside for easier access. “Hahhh, Sugu…Mmmnn, not here…”

“Mmm? Why not?” He says with faux shock, gently having you lay on your back as he spreads your legs further. His hand still fingers your underwear, only fueling a wet spot to protrude more and more. “It’s dark out, and no one’s driving around here.”

“That’s not—Mmmm!” A thumb presses down on your clit; how cruel to sneak that attack on you. “Ohh, fuck…”

Geto kisses you, gradually unraveling your erotic senses with every peck he places on your lips with his soft ones. And his lips don’t rest there, laying kisses to your chin, your collarbone, and lifting your shirt to expose your abdomen for him to kiss and suck the skin of your tummy and navel. All the while, his fore and middle fingers keep pushing into your chasm as your hips buck subtly.

Another minute of pleasing you with his hand goes by, your wetness becoming more and more evident as his digits did the work in having you wet for him. “Look at you,” he’d say cooly. “Making a mess, such a dirty, pretty thing you are.”

“Sugu, stop, you’re making me—Oooh…” he slips his middle finger inside your panties to insert you. And then, his thumb dances around your clitoris, evoking the shaky moans to leave you. “Ahhh! Noo, don’t move like…”

A snicker leaves his lips. “What? You like it when I tease you like this, don’t you, pumpkin?” He pushes your underwear out of the way and continues to finger you. “You’re gripping on my finger like crazy.”

“Shhtoop, your fingers,” your hand finds his wrist yet does nothing to stop him. “If you keep going, I-I’ll…Hooohh…”Your eyelids suddenly feel heavy, closing them to conceal your vision. However, that only enhances the use of your other senses, indulging in the sense of touch as Geto plays with your pussy. 

Even if you didn’t finish your sentence, Geto takes the initiative and removes his hand to lick the fingers. “Oh, my love,” he coos while rolling up your underwear to stay on your inner leg after removing your jeans. In the meantime, the man brings your hips up and rests your legs on his shoulders. “That’s exactly what I want from you…”

Your eyes snap open at the contact of something wet yet firm, sliding across your wet folds, your body jolting at the sensation of it nestling between your labia. And the flick of his tongue on your clit nearly has you choke. “Suguu, no, don’t—Ahaann!”

Any attempts to squirm out of his hold don’t seem manageable now that you two are in the backseat of the car; his hands firmly keep you stable and still as his face ventures closer to your genitalia. Tiny moans get louder and louder with every lick of his tongue cleaning your slit of your essence; ironic as more of your fluids seep out as he does so.

Your hand grabs hold of tuffs of his raven hair, but that only eggs him on to keep going. Pushing his tongue into your entrance, he fucks you with the wet muscle and has your body writhe and crying for him. As the space gets hotter, you wouldn’t be surprised to find fog starting to cloud the windows. But that would probably be for the best as you wouldn’t want people on this road to know what you two were doing, nor hear the squelches from the commotion.

“Ohhhshit, shiiiit,” your head pounding like crazy, you couldn’t think straight, and the walls of your cunt keep clamping onto the tongue that swirls around and has you wailing. “Ooooh,hoooh, Sugu’, I’m gonna—It’s coming…! I’m…Aiishhh!”

“Go ahead, angel,” he says before licking your clit erratically, using his middle finger to fuck your release out. “Let it out for me, baby.”

With how fast he’s sucking and licking your delicate bud and his digit rubbing on your velvety texture, how can you not come? You scream aloud at the wave that crashes on your body, your hips jerking on their own as the trembles of your orgasm rock your entire frame.

Geto keeps you steady, taking in your release with his mouth. He groans at the taste of you on his tongue, his fingers kneading your waist as if to relax your body for him as you ride out your high because of him. Quivering legs get less apparent with every buck, and once your breathing returns to an average pace, he places you back down. 

“Good job, sweetie,” he bends to kiss your cheek as he unbuckles his pants to expose his briefs that harbor a tent. “You tasted too good to resist; wanna feel you all on me…”

“You…” you grab for his cheek to pinch. “I better get my ice cream tonight, Geto Suguru.”

Your soft threat has him chuckling. “Will do, baby,” and you succumb to a kiss.

If the windows hadn’t fogged up already, they sure were going to now.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[elizzsush]

Future Child | Twisted Wonderland

Malleus Draconia X Reader

----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?

AUs: None Rating: SFW

Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.

____________________________________

Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.

Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.

Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.

You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.

“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?

This threat was a real threat!

The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?

How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?

There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.

What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!

Apparently, you had three more places to check out.

“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.

“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.

“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.

.

.

.

The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.

Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.

Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.

You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!

Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...

"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.

"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.

The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.

You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"

"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.

“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.

.

.

.

You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.

It was not for lack of trying either!

He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.

Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….

Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...

This seemed… handled-ish….

You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.

"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.

"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.

You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!

This fae would eat him alive!

Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.

.

.

.

.

“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...

Nothing.

Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.

This felt like something out of a horror movie.

A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…

“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.

You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.

“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.

This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?

So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.

Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.

Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.

Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.

He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.

His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.

His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.

“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.

“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.

Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!

Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.

And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...

The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.

__________________________

He was adorable but children were a handful.

Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.

Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.

He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...

Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.

When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.

So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.

That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.

“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.

“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.

And... That was your lunch.

With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.

Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?

“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.

That was weird right?

You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.

"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.

Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.

You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.

Scratch that, the kid wondered off.

"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.

__________________________

How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?

Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.

Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.

"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.

"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."

"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.

"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.

You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.

"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.

"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?

"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.

"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.

Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”

Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.

“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.

Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.

Um… who’s Malleus?

________________

Day four of having a child.

Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!

Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.

It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.

“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?

“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.

You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.

“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!

.

.

.

Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?

 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 

Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 

They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)

Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 

You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?

“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 

“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 

“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 

“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 

Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 

So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 

Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 

Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 

Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.

“Child Of Man?” 

“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 

“Papa!” 

__________________

“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 

“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 

“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 

“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 

“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.

“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?

“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 

“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 

“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.

“I am Malleus draconia”

__________________________

Fun Fact:

The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.

Also, Lilia knew all along.

Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol

NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!

________________________ ________________________

Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme

(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)

[icypopz]

bathing with them ♡

↬ request from anon ; Hiiii may I pls request the love and deepspace boys with a reader who loves taking baths with them??

↬ notes ; rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; ice active era?! jk we all know i'm lying atp HAHAHA but here's my annual post which is also my first post for LADS :> i changed the prompt a bit but i hope u enjoy !

↬ warning(s) ; tiny spoilers for rafayel's backstory, xavier's is like microscopically suggestive

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ rafayel ! ]

rafayel absolutely adores taking baths with you, even though he loves to tease you about being too clingy (he's actually the clingy one, but he'll never admit it for the world). he loves just chilling in the bathtub with you, especially on winter nights where he'll pull you closer in the hot water, complaining that "i need more warmth! protect me from the cold, miss bodyguard!"

he would get playfully annoyed when you joke about wanting to see his mermaid tail when he gets into the bathtub, scolding you about how lemurians also have powers to lure humans in and he'll be doing that to you if you don't get in the bath with him "right now!" also rafayel doesn't really like rubber ducks, he says it's weird that humans like to put toys like that in the water when they could just go swim in a lake if they wanted to see ducks. but! he does love bubble baths, he loves to put the bubbles in your hair, and when you make a beard for him with the foam, he finds it the cutest ever.

rafayel definitely has like several hundred bottles of soap, shampoo and conditioner in varying scents, claiming that their fragrance was so inspiring he just had to buy all of them. (the truth is, he wasn't sure which one you'd like so he just bought everything.) it's really helpful for when you stay over at his place though, you don't have to worry about packing a vanity case because he keeps everything ready for you, from your favourite toothpaste to a spare toothbrush. he also loves seeing you wrapped up in a towel, he thinks you look so adorable.

more content utc !

[ xavier ! ]

xavier isn't picky, he doesn't mind using either a bathtub or a shower, but after you visit him a couple of times, you definitely tell him he should use the shower instead. he always ends up falling asleep while he's soaking in the bathtub! he definitely loves showering with you though, he'll always do stuff like scrub your back or help comb through your tangled hair without you needing to ask. but it's almost impossible for both of you to bathe quickly, because you always end up getting distracted. who can you blame you though? it's not your fault xavier is so muscled from all his training!

xavier is the type who showers in freezing cold water, but he's willing to compromise if you don't like that. he ends up realising that hot water is more fun because he gets to write silly messages and draw hearts for you on the glass since it gets fogged up from the steam. also xavier's brain would totally crash the first time he showered with you, it would be that one tender night card all over again except better LOL. he's just that obsessed with you, you're the prettiest person with the best personality he's ever seen!

xavier would be one of those guys that has like the '10-IN-1! SHAMPOO, CONDITIONER, SOAP!' soap bottles. it's not that he isn't bothered about hygiene, he just finds it a lot simpler to use one single bottle for everything, and it evidently works for him since his skin is so clear and his hair is so fluffy. but ever since you've started staying over, xavier takes note of your favourite soaps and stocks up on them (especially after you tease him for that pitiful bottle of soap in his bathroom - he's the type to squeeze out every single last drop of soap from the tube so the bottle definitely looks like it has been through The Horrors).

[ zayne ! ]

zayne would usually prefer showering over bathing usually, because he's used to maximising time for work in his schedule, so he likes everything in his personal life to be extremely efficient. but once he starts dating you, that does kind of change. on days where he doesn't have to rush into work for urgent cases, or nights after a hectic day, he enjoys relaxing with you in the bathtub - it's a little slice of heaven for him to have you pressed up against him in the warm water.

zayne likes using his evol to tease you while you're showering. though he isn't usually a playful person and his humour is quite dry, the intimacy of being in such close proximity to him makes him act up a little LOL. so when you ask him to soap your back or anything like that, he'll purposely make his fingertips cold so you shiver when he touches you. "zayne!" you'll scold him, and he'll just let out a soft chuckle before doing what you actually asked him to.

zayne would just have the bare minimum essentials in his bathroom, but i also think he would be the type to buy in bulk so he only has to go out shopping once in a while. this way, when his soap runs out he can just get a new bottle from his cupboard. he likes going into his bathroom and seeing little traces of you all over the room, like your toothbrush in his cup or your favourite soap on his shelf - it makes him happy because it's like a reminder of you even when you aren't there.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[peppermint-toads]

you don’t like doctor’s offices. especially not now. you don’t like the hypnotic hum of the fluorescent lights, the cabinets that’ve been there since the late 80’s, the pamphlets sitting in an acrylic holder telling you that you have options.

options. not anymore. because you’re sitting on the examination table about 16 weeks pregnant, waiting for the doctor.

“the baby looks healthy,” the doctor tells you, barging into the room without a knock. “i’m prescribing zofran for the nausea. the nurse will see you out.”

thank fucking god. you wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of this place. the best part about these visits was the walk home. they are usually quite pleasant. being pregnant in the summertime has its downfalls, but feeling the breeze in your hair and through your thin dress is your saving grace.

it’s just another bonus that you pass your favorite ice cream shop on the way home. you think you’ll have an affogato today, decaf, of course.

it smells like heaven in the shop, that cool, sweet smell from the coolers. your favorite. this is your saving grace, this affogato will solidify the day as a good one, despite the lingering feeling of doctor on you.

ice cream in hand, it’s finally time to go home. the walk is clearing your head already. you eat a spoonful of vanilla and sigh. maybe you ought to stop by the pharmacy for those meds. on second thought, that can be tomorrow’s task. you’ll be alright.

actually, maybe not. because you see simon riley’s stupid, bulking form walking towards you about a block away. fuck. shit fuck. you should hide. duck into the closest shop before he can come after you. but it’s no hope, you’re looking up and you’ve already made direct eye contact. nausea meds sound so good right now.

may as well keep going forward. it’s not like he’ll notice, anyway. you’re barely showing, but your white dress isn’t doing you any favors right now.

you’ll give a polite smile, duck your head, and all will be well. no stopping, no small talk, no—

simon is physically cornering you to a complete halt in the middle of the sidewalk, and there is nothing you can do about it. maybe if you curl your back in a little bit, the bump won’t be as noticeable.

“what are you doing? stop that.”

he is so gracefully referring to your posture.

“i don’t have time for this simon. i’ve got things to do.”

you walk sideways around him, and he follows.

“where are you coming from?”

you can’t help it. “you lost the right to ask that question when you fell off the face of the planet.”

you hear him grunt behind you and smile. great, no snide comments yet.

“you look different.”

shit. he’s jogging, catching up to you and walking by your side now. the breeze is picking up and you shift uncomfortably. the fabric of your dress is clinging to your stomach.

simon looks down, his intent is to see what you’re eating, but he catches a glimpse of your swollen stomach and freezes. he’s nearly swallowed by all the foot traffic.

“simon?” you feel the loss of him by your side. he’s stood still, strangers bumping into him and jostling his shoulders.

great. now you’re backtracking, when really all you want is to be at home, in bed.

“simon, what’s your problem?”

“you’re pregnant.”

time stops for him. he’s the father, no way he couldn’t be. unless you were cheating on him, which he highly doubts considering your heart is the purest thing he’s ever encountered during his time on this earth.

you let out a long, long sigh. “yeah.”

then you’re swaying, trying to keep upright and simultaneously swallowing down vomit. simon watches as the life drains from your face a bit. his hands are gripping your shoulders to stabilize you. his touch feels nice, warm.

“i need to get home,” you tell him with a sad smile, pained to be leaving his soft touch behind yet again.

“i’ll walk you.”

you nod. you don’t have the heart to ask him to take his hand off your waist, feels too good. and he’s keeping the world right side up.

it’s only a short distance home, and soon he’s ushering you up the stairs to your flat. you don’t stop him from doing that, either.

you also don’t stop him from pulling your favorite blanket over you after helping you lie down on the couch.

you don’t even get the chance to tell him to leave because you’re just so tired, and his presence makes you feel so safe. you’re falling asleep and quickly. he lets you.

he sits and watches you sleep for the better part of an hour. when you stir, he’s there, staring.

he’s in your lounge chair, chin resting on his folded knuckles.

“i’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

you’re barely awake and what’s he saying? “huh?” you say stupidly, wiping your eyes of sleep.

“i said,” he swallows, “i’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

you’re sitting straight up now, definitely more awake now. “i couldn’t have told you. even if i wanted to. you disappeared, simon.

he did. but he doesn’t have the time to explain that now. so, he ignores you.

“how far along are you?”

you tell him. he stands from the chair, sitting down right next to you. he asks if he can feel your stomach. you guess so.

things are getting a little too serious for you now.

“right, well. i had a lovely nap, and i’m feeling much better. thank you for walking me home, but i need to stop by the pharmacy and—”

he interrupts you, tugging your wrist when you try to stand. “i’ll go for you. i’ll do it, please. i’ll do anything you ask me to.

you frown down at him. “simon, there’s no point to this. please just go. it’s just… too late.”

simon’s heart is breaking. he didn’t think it could break anymore than it already has in the last few months.

“let me stay.”

he begs. you think there are tears in his eyes, and if you let them fall you know there’ll be no going back. so you sit with him, you let him kiss you with his hand on your stomach. you let him lay you down on the beat up couch he was always pestering you to replace. you let him pull your dress over your head and kiss his way down your stomach. you let him sink into you slowly and pull your calves up to rest on his shoulders. you let him cum inside of you, again.

you even let him go to the pharmacy for you.

[azsazz]

Out of Order

Hockey!Azriel x Figure Skater!Reader

Summary: You're running late from practice and the women's showers are out of order. In your haste to make it to class, you utilize the men's locker room while they're on the ice, only to find out that their practice has been cut short as well...

Warnings: Smut (oral, m receiving). Steamy (haha, get it?).

Word Count: 3003

Notes: This would prob never happen but it’s my world and you’re all living in it 😏

Belongs to the Shut Out & Penance world

_________________________________________

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, staring at the sign hanging over the showers in the women’s locker room. It reads Closed for Maintenance. You’ve completely forgotten that the showers weren’t going to be in working order this week. You hadn’t been paying too close attention when your figure skating coach told you about it before the weekend hit, still too stunned thinking about Azriel when you’d run into him on your way to where all the coaches’ offices are housed. 

It hasn’t been a great start to the week. Your alarm went off late, you spilled the horrible coffee you’d managed to make whilst brushing your teeth—no harm there—and you split your leggings after a tumble on the ice. Now, you’re going to be doubly late for class because Coach Vanserra had wanted to talk to you about your routine after practice.

And now this.

Clicking your phone on, you check the time. Yup. You only have fifteen minutes to make your way across campus to class, and you’ve only just stopped sweating from the vigorous run-throughs of the jump you fell on during practice this morning. Anything to get the routine perfect, even if it did mean receiving a few cutting glares from the hockey players who were loitering around for their own practice. The chain reaction of you being late meant that the Zamboni flooded the ice late which meant that hockey practice started late.

Late, late, late.

You would totally skip class too, if it weren’t the one that you were struggling the most in. The Teaching Assistant even allowed you to meet with her before class today to go over the outline of your mid-term, and you really need to do well on it.

“What do I do, what do I do?” you wonder aloud, staring at the bright neon sign. You don’t have enough time to make it home, but—you groan as the idea pops into your head. 

The men’s locker room.

There are showers in there. Ones that probably work, too. 

Fuck, you really don’t want to do this. 

But you have no choice, you’re not spending the day walking around classes a filthy mess or smelling like sweat.

You duck out the door with your things, your bag slung over your shoulder, towel draped over your arm. Your shoes are clutched in your free hand as you duck your head, walking faster. Passing the rink just to make sure the hockey team is still out on the ice, you exhale softly, only allowing yourself a fleeting look at sex on skates.

Azriel is fast. Probably one of the fastest forwards on the team. He slides across the arena with a grace that rivals your own, and you’re impressed. Maybe he’s taken a few figure skating classes of his own. If only you could ask.

Quickly, you make sure that the coast is clear before ducking into the men’s locker room. It doesn’t look much different from the women’s locker rooms, with added urinals. It’s muggy even though it’s early, from the male figure skaters taking showers of their own. There’s a lingering scent of stale sweat in the air that makes your nose wrinkle, but you can push through that if it means you get the shower you so desperately need.

You halt, listening for any noise. Nothing. The locker room is perfectly empty.

You hustle to the back of the room where the showers are located, claiming the one furthest from the door. If someone does come inside, they likely won’t take up the empty shower next to you. Something about bro code and urinals, Cassian once mentioned. You pray that it applies to showers, too.

The walls separating each shower come up to your shoulders, and there’s a pair of swinging doors that keep the area enclosed. The water pressure is incredible, much better than in the women’s showers, and you groan as you step under the hot spray. Your towel is hung on the rack, your bag the furthest from the water as you can manage without getting it wet or being seen by anyone that might come your way.

You scrub your hair quickly, and when you turn around to wash the shampoo out, your eyes connect with a very familiar—and very heated—pair of hazel ones.

Azriel.

Holy fuck, this can’t be happening right now. His dark hair is damp with sweat, clinging to his perfectly tan skin. He’s sans shirt, and when your gaze quickly flicks to below the door, notice that he’s not wearing any pants, either.

Your heart pounds in your chest. He’s not supposed to be in here. You’re not supposed to be in here.

“What are you doing in here?” You exclaim, voice pitching high with your nerves. You slap your arms across your chest, even though you know he’s gotten an eyeful of your breasts from his vantage point, way taller than where the doors end.

“What are you doing in here?” He bites back, and the roughness of his voice makes the warmth pounding against your back converge between your legs. Fuck, he’s so attractive. His throat works around a harsh swallow, and you have to clamp your legs together stifle the throbbing.

Azriel watches you shift on your feet uneasily. Tracks you with his dark gaze like you’re a trapped animal and he’s about to pounce.

You kind of like this look on him.

“The women’s showers are out of order and I’m late for class,” you hastily reply, cheeks burning bright. You don’t know why he’s in here or if the rest of the team is seconds from following, but you need to get the fuck out of here right now, go bury your head in your pillow and potentially never return to the ice rink ever again.

This is utterly humiliating.

Azriel opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, raucous laughter and crude jokes fill the space as the rest of the team enter the locker room. Your heart falls to the floor, swirling around with the soap that’s still running from your hair, and slipping down the drain.

Before you can protest, Azriel’s shoving himself inside of the stall with you, uncaring that you’re completely naked and shouldn’t be here. He presses himself up against you and you slip, but he’s righting you, pulling you into his chest where you can feel how very interested he is in this debacle.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You exclaim, and it’s hard to keep your voice from shouting frantically like you want to.

The air becomes a thousand times hotter. You can barely breathe with him pressed up against you like this, turning the both of you and hiding you from the view of his teammates. Your heart still races in your chest, both because your fucking crush is pressing his naked torso up against yours and with the fear that one of his teammates will take notice.

“It’s either I see you naked, or the entire team does,” he whispers, huskily. “And no way in hell am I letting that fucking happen.” He growls and something like pleasure skitters down your spine.

You swallow roughly, “Good call.”

“Practice ended early,” He tacks on, answering your previous question.

“I gathered,” you breathe, but it holds none of the heat that it normally does when you talk to any of the hockey players. Especially Cassian. “You were out there for like, five minutes,” you whisper-shout. You can feel how red your cheeks are, and while this may be mortifying, Azriel’s hard cock pressed into your stomach only adds to your already heightened emotions.

You wonder what he’d do if you got down on your knees right now.

“It’s been an hour,” he responds, and you hold your breath when the water of another shower turns on. Azriel drags you under the spray with him, making it look to his teammates that he’s showering instead of hiding the figure skater they’ve been arguing with for ice time all semester. “Coach wanted to keep us loose for the weekend. We’re supposed to change and watch film.”

Fuck, maybe you were staring for longer than you thought.

You can’t focus. Your entire mind needs rewiring because all you can think about right now is how Azriel’s bare skin is touching yours. How he towers over you, how he’s staring down at you with a heat that rivals a thousand wildfires. Actually, he’s staring a little south of your eyes, right at your—

“Hey,” you snap softly. Your arms are still tucked tightly over your chest, and you hope you’re not experiencing a nip-slip right now. “Eyes up here, asshole.”

Azriel’s smile nearly makes you slip.

“Can’t help myself,” he defends, and this is the most animated you’ve ever seen him. Out on the ice he’s all broody and serious, head strictly in the game. It’s hot, but this side of him, cheeky and smug, might even be hotter. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Can you feel how hard you make me, baby?”

Gods, if he doesn’t shut up right now, you’re probably going to do something you’ll regret later, like grab his hand and slide it right between your—

“Dude,” Cassian’s voice bellows and you duck closer into Azriel’s chest. Each ridge of his impressive muscles contract as he freezes up and despite your heart feeling like it’s about to pound out of your chest, you can admit that this is thrilling. The thought of being caught in here, surrounded by built hockey players, naked with Azriel, makes your core twist with pleasure. “Since when do you have a pink towel?”

You wince. Of course, he can see where the towel is hung on the rack, the dude is massive.

 Azriel lies easily, “Yeah, some chick left it over at my place and I brough it to return to her later.” It sounds like something he’s done before. A bite of jealousy hits you hot and harsh at the thought of him doing this with anyone else.

You clench your jaw, but as if he can feel the way you tense, his large hands come to rest on your hips, soothing across your skin. Fucking fuck.

“Used? Nice one, Azzy,” Cassian laughs and nothing more is said while he returns to his own shower.

Azriel eases slightly, the motion making his abs relax. You want to lean forward and lick over them, but now is nor the time nor the place.

You really need to get the fuck out of here.

There’s no way in hell that you’re going to make it to class, dammit.

You hear more showers turn on, and Azriel removes his hands from your hips to reach behind you for the soap you have on the shelf. You watch him as he squeezes some of the shampoo into his hands before scrubbing them through his black hair. He’s like a fucking dream come true, and his cock still hasn’t gone down from where it’s pinned between the both of you, only the thin fabric of his boxers keeping you and it from meeting.

A droplet of soap falls onto your face, and you flinch, but don’t move. You’re not sure if you can, because your limbs are seized up with nerves. You’re not sure you want to.

Azriel rinses his hands off, slowly bringing them to your face. He wipes the droplet away with his knuckle and the feeling goes straight to your core.

“Azriel,” you breathe, but are promptly interrupted for a second time.

“Hey, man.” It’s Rhys. “You ready to kick the Sea Lion’s asses this weekend?” The water turns on in the shower directly next to you and in your haste to shuffle closer to Azriel, your arm brushes up against his cock and his hands fly out, gripping you firmly to keep you from squirming.

Oh. He’s enjoying being in this shower with you as much as you are.

A smirk makes its way onto your face that makes Azriel’s glorious hazel eyes narrow in distrust.

Reaching carefully behind you, you snag the bottle of conditioner from the rack and press it softly into his hand. His brows furrow in confusion as he answers his team captain. “Yeah, dude, Tarquin and his team don’t stand a fucking chance.” He almost chokes when you slide down to your knees in front of him.

“Damn straight,” Rhys says, while Azriel pleads you with his eyes. You’re not sure if he wants you to stop or keep going, but you hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug anyway.

His cock springs from its confines and the bottle in Azriel’s hand drops, ringing loudly against the floor.

“Shit,” he says, but it’s tight in his throat, like he can’t even get the words out. If someone catches on, he’s screwed.

He leans down to pick up the conditioner bottle and you frown as his cock is pulled from eye-level.

“What do you think you’re doing, pretty girl?”

You lean in close, sliding your hands up his muscular arms, enjoying the way his thick, dark eyelashes flutter under your touch. “Just enjoy, Azriel,” you whisper, your breath casting over his lips. He could grab you by the back of your head and tug you into the kiss he’s been wanting to since the first day you showed up at the rink, snarking at the team for going over their time. His cock jumps at the thought of those pursed lips wrapped around his cock. “And wash my hair while you’re at it.”

“Fuck,” he groans softly, but you pull away before he can rock into you and claim your mouth. He’s been crouched down for too long, anyway, so he rips himself from you, pushing to his feet.

“What do you think about Tarquin?” you hear Rhys ask, but you’re already reaching forward, taking Azriel in your hand. He jerks immediately and when you look up at him, he’s already shooting you an apologetic look, and then another that tells you he isn’t going to last very long.

You like the idea of that. Having this power over him.

He’s hard and smooth in your hand. You watch eagerly as a bead of precum drips from the tip, but it’s washed away by the water still cascading down his body, to your disappointment. If you’re going to be waterboarded, you’re thankful that this is how it’s going to go.

Azriel’s response is choked when you finally wrap your lips around the head of his cock, teasing his slit with the tip of your tongue. The flavor of him bursts on your tongue as another drop of precum follows, and you almost moan before remembering where you are. To keep the noise from coming out, you sink further onto his cock, cutting off your airflow.

“He’s good, but he’s no match for Bloodshed over there,” Azriel answers, and his hand falls to your head, fingers burying into your hair. You can feel the cold of the conditioner and if you weren’t enjoying yourself too much by bobbing your mouth up and down his cock, you’d be worried about the amount he’s using.

“Yeah,” Rhys says. “Their goalie is decent, but our offense is better.”

Azriel hums in response and his other hand finds your face, cupping it and guiding you just the way that he likes.

You take advantage of his help, lathing your tongue across any skin that you can find, reveling in the feeling of it all. Your legs are clenched so tightly together, your clit aching for release. You’re on edge, but you’re terrified of making any noise. You really can’t be found in the men’s locker room like this.  

“Dude…” Rhys trails off, and the suspicion in his voice makes you falter, but Azriel’s still guiding your head, trying not to fully say fuck it and jerk his cock as deep as he can go. “Are you fucking jacking off right now?”

“Yeah,” Az answers, because he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. He’s still going to protect you, but his hips are moving, his tip hitting the back of your throat but not pushing any further, so you don’t choke. “So, if you’d kindly fuck off, that’d be ace. We’ll talk at film. Tell coach I’ll be late.”

Rhysand’s answering chuckle rings throughout the stalls when he cuts the water from his shower. “Enough said, Az. You’re fucking sick, but I’m out.”

As soon as Rhysand’s out the door, Azriel’s picking up his pace, gasping out that he’s going to release and trying to pry you off his cock like the gentleman he is.

Too bad you want his cum in your mouth.

You curl your fingers into the meat of his thighs, urging him to stay inside.

“Fuck, baby, you’re fucking perfect,” he groans before he releases himself. He’s all heady and musky, and you swallow him greedily, not letting a single drop escape. Gods, you need to stop acting like this, but around Azriel, you can’t help yourself.

He helps you to your feet and ducks down to capture your lips in a heated, desperate kiss. Your hands find his hair, clutching to him as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, silently asking for permission. You grant it to him, and the kiss turns hot and needy, like he’s been wanting this for a long as you have.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, chest heaving, but your gaze stays locked on his, especially when he sinks to his own knees.

“What are you doing?” you pant, planting your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging deliciously into his skin.

“Returning the favor,” he says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world. He taps the inside of your tingling thighs. “Why do you think I told Rhys to tell coach that I’m going to be late? C’mon, pretty girl, open these legs for me.”

_________________________________________

Hockey!AU Tag (will be tagged for any hockey fic, no matter paring):

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks

[smolfangirl]

I challenged myself to not eat sweets this past January and by god was it hard because once a day I'd get this intense craving for chocolate until, two weeks in, I decided I'd allow myself a bit of dark chocolate (80% cocoa) every day and ever since I've been completely fine

The moral of the story is allowing myself one small exception makes sticking to my goal so much easier because I've essentially agreed to a compromise with myself so it's a win-win

This, and my joint pain gets so much better when I cut down industrial sugar

[tender-rosiey]

hinting — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: thank @callmemirro for the bby fever idea but the video of the baby is what fueled the fire even more

you have a feeling that something has been plaguing your husband’s mind. it’s not a bad thing—like that way too expensive pea-sized handbag he wanted to get just to clown it.

it’s actually good and adorable especially with the way it gets him all smiley and bubbly.

you also started to notice when exactly he gets into these moods or rather regarding what.

for example, you were browsing the store once for new clothes. you and satoru agreed to split to search on a wider scale for discounts.

so when he came back, all smiley and excited, you expected a 50% sale or something. instead, you got surprised with possibly the cutest baby pajama ever.

“what do you think, babe? it’s so cute especially the little smiling duck in the middle!”

you take it from him, examining it up close. truthfully, the material is pretty good and it is soft on the skin. there is only one problem though.

you look up to your husband with a smile, “but, honey, we don’t have a baby.”

satoru deflates for a single second before standing up straight, proud, “hey, now! we can always get it for future plans,” he ogles you, but you quickly pinch his nose.

“haha, very funny.” you start pushing the cart towards that one outfit you liked with satoru following close by.

“y/n, I am serious!” he whines as his hand finds home on your waist.

“and I am a dinosaur in disguise.”

he gasps, “really?!”

“no.”

and that happened more than once.

another thing is that satoru has been obsessed with baby videos.

you remember that one time you were chilling on your beloved couch when he came stumbling into the room, clutching his phone and almost dying of laughter, “y/n! y/n! look at this baby!”

satoru is wheezing as he replays the video over and over again. his uncontrollable laughter is music to your ears, but you feel that you’re going to have to take him to a therapist or a mental hospital.

he laughs loudly for sure, but he has been like this for 4 hours, showing you a baby video every minute or so.

you look at him with sympathy as he cackles, “it was so ready to square up too—huh, what’re you doing?”

you pull him into your embrace and he immediately melts, arms wrapping around you in an instant.

you gently rub his back and press a kiss to the top of his head, “my poor baby,” you coo and gojo lights up: have you finally understood what he has been hinting at?

you cup his face and kiss his cheeks, “work must’ve taken quite a toll on you; we can go to the hosp—“

“hey! that’s just mean!”

he huffs moving away and giving you his back, but then he looks back at you, “but the baby was cute, right?”

you laugh, resting your chin on his shoulder, “yeah, in a way, it reminded me of megumi.”

“you’re so right! even as a first-grader, he was so ready to fight anyone.”

another memorable incident happened when you were in a park, taking a walk with your darling husband.

it was peaceful, accompanied by the squeals of children, the coolness of the ice cream, and the comfort of your husband’s presence. speaking of which, where’s that guy?

you look around, searching for a very prominent walking paintbrush. you blink once, twice, and he is finally in front of you with a huge grin, “y/n, look at this cutie pie I just met!”

you soften at the sight of the giggling baby in his arms. the little baby girl reaches out for you and you cradle her in your arms.

cooing at her, you rock gently while making silly faces and it makes her laugh a laugh from her belly. it also makes a certain someone sport the most lovesick smile known to existence.

smiling, you look at your husband, “where did you find her? was she lost?”

your husband sweatdrops and looks to the side, glasses showing off his bright blue eyes, “about that—“

“there he is, officer! he took my baby!”

so yeah, something is up with your husband, and you have had enough with him hiding it from you. god is on your side today as you’re finally able to back him into a corner and finally interrogate him.

“satoru, is there something you want to tell me?” you ask the man, breathless after running around the school for a couple of hours.

silence occupies the room before your husband finally gives in.

he takes a deep breath and hugs you, resting his head on your shoulder, “I want…” he mumbles, “I want a baby, please?”

you are silent for a moment then you make him look you in the eyes, “really?”

“really,” he says, voice unwavering, “I know that it might be scary, but we have experience with tsumiki and megumi, and they turned out just fine!” he starts rambling, “except for megumi, he can be bratty sometimes, but point is!” he holds your hands in his, “I want to start a family with you, but if you don’t want—“

“okay.”

“—to I completely understand and…wait—did you just say okay?”

“yeah,” you beam, “let’s have a baby. you could’ve said that right away, silly.”

he stares at you for a bit, “do you have any idea how LONG I HAVE BEEN—“

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawings @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @mx-0-child @that-mom-friend-dot-com

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 5 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Jake can't pinpoint why he feels the need to make you understand that you're special. Or maybe he can, but he's too afraid to admit it to himself. You are completely out of your depth, but you know you'd rather drown with Jake than be with anyone else right now.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, cum play, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

Jake was surpassing all of your expectations. You were already three orgasms deep on the weekend, and you just met him less than a day ago. He was sweet and handsome, and right now he was kissing your lips softly on his couch as he held you tight. You couldn't help but smile against his mouth as the sticky coating of his cum spread from your tummy to his hard abs as you and he made out at a luxurious pace.

He was taking charge, but he never made you feel small or stupid for your lack of experience. He just didn't seem like that kind of person. And besides, you did manage to turn him on for the third time, and instead of letting him sneak away, you got him to stay put on the couch with you.

"Were you really going to try to jerk off alone again?" you asked as he kissed his way down the side of your neck.

"Mmhmm. You caught onto that, did you?" You felt his tongue trail along your skin before he said, "Wasn't about to make you feel obligated to take care of it for me in any way."

Okay, so Jake was kind of a gentleman. So much so that he still hadn't fucked you. And he still hadn't told you when he was planning to. The crazy thing was, you now understood that he could probably make you come a dozen other ways that didn't involve his cock at all. You were impressed. You were also a little sad that once you and he did get around to that little matter of eliminating the fact that you were still a virgin, you'd be on your way.

"Are you sore, Darlin'?" he asked, setting butterflies off in your belly. "I was a little rough with my fingers."

You moaned softly and tipped your head back. "It felt amazing. I liked it."

"I'm glad," he crooned. "But if you're sore, you could take a bath."

You perked up even more. A bath in his big tub sounded delightful, and once you started moving, you realized you were a bit more sore than you originally thought. "I want a bath," you told him, and you left a mess of his tacky cum on him when you stood up. You suddenly remembered you were completely naked and covered in his semen as you ducked your face away from him and muttered, "I wasn't sure what the texture was going to be like. It's really sticky all over me now."

Jake stood and pulled you close again. "Gets messier and harder to clean up when it starts to dry. But you didn't seem to mind me coating you up since it was your idea in the first place."

You pressed your lips together and muttered, "I never saw a guy come in real life before. I was curious. And it was so hot."

Something like possessiveness flashed in his eyes. "And then, to my surprise, you started playing with it," he added with a dangerous smirk, and you turned away from him in embarrassment, because maybe you weren't supposed to do that at all. "Do you hear me complaining?" he asked, pressing his lips to your shoulder. "That was some advanced level kinky stuff. Just wasn't expecting it. But I am not complaining. Let's get you in the bath."

Jake kept his arm around your waist as he led you back to his bedroom and then to the en suite bathroom where he cranked on the hot water before turning to look at you in all his naked glory. "I'm going to grab myself a beer for bathtime. Something about hot water and a cold beer is very satisfying, and maybe you can learn all about it after your next birthday. You want another crystal goblet of ice water?"

Your brow furrowed. "You're taking a bath with me?"

He raised one eyebrow and took a step away from you. "Unless you don't want me to."

Once again, you were surprised by him, but not disinterested in the idea of having him join you in the tub. "I want you to."

He half smiled in response. "And the goblet of ice water?"

"Yes, please," you told him with an eye roll. Then he was gone, and you were left with the soothing sound of the tub filling up while you went in search of a washcloth. You found some in the small closet just inside the bathroom door. Along with extra towels, razor blades, and a half empty box of extra large condoms.

Of course he would have them. He brought you home which meant he probably did the same thing every weekend. Maybe he even had more than one girl each weekend. One for Friday night and one for Saturday night. Maybe he'd fuck you and then offer to drive you home soon so he could go back to the bar tonight and find someone more his speed. Someone who knew that condoms came in different sizes.

You couldn't let yourself get jealous or sad, because there was no point in it. This was practically a business deal. Jake was helping you get ready for Cooper while he got his rocks off as many times as he wanted to. No more, no less.

"Here you go."

You startled a bit as Jake held out your wine glass filled with ice water, and he took a long sip from his bottle of Sam Adams. "Thanks," you whispered, and then he pressed his cold lips to your forehead before nodding at the tub.

"Get in and get comfy."

--------------------------------

Jake had never shared his bathtub with anyone. Soaking in the hot water until it was almost too cool to stand was one of his guilty pleasures that he never planned on letting someone else experience, too. He usually brought a beer in with him. One time he drank an entire bottle of champagne. But he always did it alone. Until today, apparently. Something about the way his cum was drying on your skin while you kissed him made him want to take the time to clean you up. And he also realized by how his wrist felt that he'd gone pretty hard with his fingers.

You looked too fucking cute with the steamy water up to your shoulders while you sipped from the condensation coated stemware. But you were quieter than you had been in the living room, which bothered him, because he had gotten used to your constant chattering and your smartass comments.

He slipped one foot into the hot water, and you scooted a little further forward. When he had both feet in, he eased himself down until he was sitting with you tucked between his legs. But you were facing away from him, so he couldn't see your face as he asked, "Is the temperature okay for you?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, sipping your ice water.

He leaned back against the tub and took another sip of beer, but you remained where you were. "You comfy?" he asked.

"Yes," you whispered, your back still to him.

"Well, I'm not," he said blandly.

"What's wrong?" you asked right away, turning to look at him over your shoulder, finally letting him see your pretty face.

"You're all the way over there." 

Jake reached for your hip under the water, wrapped his hand around you, and pulled you closer to him. Your eyes went wide, and you turned to brace your hand against his chest. Some of your cold drink splashed onto him, but he just muttered, "That's better," while you set the glass down on the edge of the tub.

"You could have just asked me to scoot closer."

Jake studied you and took another long sip of his beer before setting it down next to your glass. "You haven't complained once when I've touched you."

"I'm not complaining," you whispered, so he stroked your waist, and you snuggled in a little closer to him. "I'm just wondering when you're going to fuck me." 

He kissed your forehead as you looked up at him. "You're playing by my rules, remember?" he muttered.

"You don't have to be so sweet just for me." Jake's fingers froze on your body as you added, "Unless you're always like this? Making breakfast for your overnight guests? And cuddling in the bathtub? I guess that makes more sense."

But he wasn't always like this, and he wanted to tell you that. But he knew he didn't have the right to say anything at all when you really only needed him for one purpose. Once you got what you wanted from him, you'd be gone.

"Are you always this sweet?" you whispered, wet fingers wrapped around the back of his neck as you looked up at him through your lashes. 

He licked his lips and shook his head. "I don't think I've ever been quite this sweet before." When you finally smiled again, your eyes softened, and Jake kissed the bridge of your nose. "You might as well get comfortable, because I don't get out until the water's cold."

"Cold!" you complained as he held you tighter. "You expect me to stay here until it's cold?"

"Mmhmm." He took another sip of his beer. "And I expect you to tell me what kind of pizza you want for dinner, too. And why don't you tell me what you're studying in school while you're at it. And how you usually spend your weekends."

"I'm staying for dinner?"

Jake sighed and let his head tip back. "I don't think I can fuck you until I've taken you on a proper date. So... will you have dinner with me at my dining room table?"

"Yes."

-------------------------

A proper date. The words were bouncing around in your mind even as Jake stretched out on his couch in his gym shorts while you were almost completely on top of him, wearing his clothes. "You're wrong," you told him, shaking your head and pushing his hair off his forehead. "You have the wrong opinion about pineapple on pizza, and I refuse to believe I'm the first person who has ever told you so."

His hand on your butt flexed as he laughed. "Nobody else would dare. Except for you. Go ahead. Tell me what else I'm wrong about."

"Well," you said with a huff of pretend annoyance, "you ate your eggs sunny side up this morning. Wrong. And you didn't already have your bedroom window open to listen to the sound of the ocean last night. Wrong." You paused for a beat before saying what you'd been thinking about for a while. "I would say you're wrong about needing extra large condoms, but I did see and feel you, so maybe you do. Not wrong."

His deep laughter rumbled through his chest, and you jostled slightly on top of him. "You found my stash in the bathroom?" he asked, but he didn't sound annoyed.

"I was looking for a washcloth."

He hummed and asked, "How many condoms are left in the box? I haven't checked in a couple weeks."

"About half." You looked him in his pretty green eyes. "Does that mean you haven't had sex in a couple weeks? Or that you just haven't been using condoms?"

"I always use condoms," he replied immediately with a little nod, and you believed him. "Lesson seven: never skip a condom. Guys are pigs. Don't let them cut corners."

He kissed the corner of your mouth, but all you could say was, "So you haven't had sex in a little while?"

Jake nodded again. "Was getting a little sick of the bar crowd, to be honest. At least until you dropped your fake. Kicking tag chasers out of my bed in the middle of the night isn't much fun anymore."

"What's a tag chaser?" you asked, running your fingers through his soft hair.

His cheeks tinted with pink as he said, "Women who go after guys in the military. Some of them think it's fun to 'collect' tags. Some of them are hoping to trap a guy for the marriage benefits. Different reasons. Same name. And you absolutely can't let them spend the night with you."

You wanted to laugh, because this actually sounded like your roommate, Kylie. But then you remembered why you went to that particular bar in the first place and who you were originally looking for. Your eyes went wide. "Wait. Am I a tag chaser?"

Now he was hooting with laughter. "I don't know, Darlin'. Are you? That little leather skirt screamed yes, but your smart mouth and the fact that you didn't care that I was an aviator are telling me no."

You thought about it for another second and said, "I'm not one," while he laughed some more. "I couldn't be! You let me spend the night."

He reached for his phone as he said, "Yeah, well you're different, aren't you? I'm going to order this pizza."

"Okay," you whispered, letting your cheek rest on his chest as he tapped his screen and then held his phone to his ear. He was looking at you as he said, "Yeah, hi, a large pizza for delivery, please." He paused for a second and then said, "Toppings? Since I'm with a girl who has weird ideas about pineapple on pizza, just wait to hear how horrible this thing is going to sound. Are you ready?"

You were laughing with your face buried against his arm as he gave his address and credit card number, and when he hung up, you screeched, "Jake! You're ridiculous. And wrong! It's going to be the best pizza ever."

"Sure," he said sarcastically before sitting up with you on his lap. He nipped at your lip as he added, "It'll be about thirty minutes before it gets here, Darlin'. I think we have time to review some of your lessons if you feel like it."

A smile bloomed across your face as you asked, "Which lessons?"

"Whatever lessons you want."

----------------------------

You told Jake you wanted to review lessons two and three, and now you were naked on his couch with his face buried in your pussy and his hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs. Foreplay and oral sex were two things you clearly loved. He spent about ten minutes making out with you and hitting all the spots that left you dripping wet, and then he treated himself to a taste. 

"God damn," he growled, lapping at you as you tugged on his hair. Once again, you got him rock hard as goosebumps trailed down his neck. "Fuck."

"Jake," you whined until his mouth was back on your clit, and then you sighed contentedly. He knew he could get you off before the pizza arrived, and he also knew he'd be amped up for you later. He was excited. You excited him. He wanted to be so good.

"Jake!" You came apart on his tongue, rolling your hips up for more pressure. He rewarded you for knowing what you wanted by sucking on your clit, and he enjoyed every second of your orgasm. Every little sound. Each tug on his hair. The way your body seemed to relax into the couch cushions once you were fully sated. And then there was a knock on his door.

"Don't move an inch, Darlin'," he teased, kissing the apex of your thigh.

"I can promise you I won't," you whimpered, arm tossed over your eyes as you ran your fingers slowly up your body.

He chuckled as he walked to the door, and then he realized that he was wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a raging boner. He grimaced and tried his best to hide himself with his left hand while he pulled the door open. You were just in the other room, completely naked on the couch, and if you sat up, the pizza delivery kid who looked like he was your age would have front row seats to the show of a lifetime.

"Thanks," Jake muttered, taking the pizza box and quickly closing the door. Then he walked to the table, his cock merrily bobbing along the way. He started to grab plates and get you another wine glass of ice water, and he had to pause to consider why exactly he felt the need to make this seem like a date. He'd already been over every bit of your body with his mouth and hands. He could have just fucked you by now. He desperately wanted to. But he needed you to understand that you had to go for the guys who weren't just setting out to take advantage of you. That you needed to make them work for it.

Jake turned when you made a soft sound and wrapped your arms around his waist. You were wearing his clothes again, and he collected you against him. "It smells good," you muttered.

He kissed your forehead and said, "This is the one and only time I'm letting you choose the toppings."

Your laughter rang out as you sat down with your ice water. "I guess I better make it count then. And that's such a typical guy thing, to think their pizza topping preferences are the best."

"Yours are just wrong," he replied quickly, dropping a slice onto your plate before putting one on his own. He watched you take an enormous bite and smile as you chewed it up. "But you're cute, so you can get away with it."

You looked satisfied with his comment as you asked, "So, you usually make other girls eat the grotesque topping combination you prefer? Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?"

"Wow. Okay," he replied with a laugh while he sat down, enjoying your smirk. "You think this Cooper guy is going to put up with you, smartass?"

You cocked your head to the side like you had forgotten all about him. "I thought we weren't supposed to be talking about him anymore? That was lesson number one."

"You're not allowed to bring him up," Jake reminded you. "But I can. So what's so great about him anyway?"

You nibbled on your crust and kind of shrugged. "He's pretty hot. And he asked me out four times. I keep telling him we can go out soon, but I know he's going to stop asking if I don't actually pick a day and do it." You paused and looked at your glass of ice water as you said, "I should have just slept with someone by now. I don't want him to be disappointed that I'm a virgin who doesn't know how to do anything."

Jake grunted and set his pizza down. He'd been with his fair share of women, but there was nothing disappointing about you. The way you got him going was unparalleled, and even though you claimed you didn't know how to do even the basics, you definitely had his number. The hair pulling and cum play and little noises you made were all unintentional but so fucking hot. And now he was annoyed.

"That's why you want to lose your virginity? So you can please him physically?" You shrugged again. "Remember how I told you that it's never about the guy?"

"Yeah."

He reached for your chin and tipped it up so you met his eyes. "That goes for everyone, but especially Cooper. Okay? There's nothing wrong with you, Darlin'. You got everything just right."

You nodded and swallowed hard, and Jake was so fucking jealous of a college kid, he wanted to scream. "Okay, Jake," you whispered. "I believe you."

His fingers slipped slowly along your jaw until they were digging gently into the back of your neck. He studied your pretty face and memorized how his clothing looked on you while your gaze stayed fixed on him. "Are you sure you still want to do this with me?" he asked softly. "Because you don't need me to fix anything about you since there's nothing wrong to begin with."

In an instant, you planted your hand on his thigh and leaned all the way in to kiss him. He realized he was still a little hard from giving you head as soon as you nudged him, but he didn't mind you knowing how badly he wanted you. He didn't stop you as you eased yourself onto his lap without breaking the kiss, and when your body settled against his, you moaned softly. 

Jake pulled away and watched you chase him for more before your eyes fluttered open. "I need to hear you say it," he whispered, hand creeping up inside the shirt you were wearing. "Is this what you really want?"

You didn't hesitate as you told him, "Yes. I want you for my first time, because you're sweet and I know you're not going to hurt me. I don't always need to explain myself for you to know what I need. I want you. Not Cooper and not Rooster. You."

The shirt you were wearing fell to the floor next to his chair, and Jake ran his rough fingers along your sides, making you shiver. He kissed you softly as his hands found the undersides of your breasts. "This pizza is going to taste even more disgusting cold," he murmured as you arched into his touch. "But I can't wait any longer for you."

You smiled against his lips before you stood, taking his hand and guiding him to his feet as well. Then you led him to his bedroom, and he got lost in your little glances along the way.

"Better get those extra large condoms," you told him with a soft laugh.

He kissed you and guided you back toward his bed, and you stretched out luxuriously beneath him, his hand resting on the elastic at your hip. "You got nothing to worry about, Darlin'. I'll take care of everything."

------------------------------

Full speed ahead to Jake's cock in the next part. He's ready to go. You've been warned. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[alltoowelltom]

ice princess ⛸️

oscar piastri x figure skater!reader (+ toto wolff's daughter!reader)

from this request HERE

skateupdates: Olympic figure skating pair Y/N Wolff and Valeriy Angelopol have called it quits! Despite competing together since they were children and dating for the last year and a half, Valeriy has released a statement that the duo would be 'going [our] separate ways for the upcoming competition season'. He also stated there were 'no hard feelings regarding the separation, [the couple] just turned out to have irreconcilable differences'. Our reps reached out to Y/N Wolff for a statement but she has declined to speak on it at this time.

user1: WHAT

user2: MUM AND DAD SPLIT UP?

↳ user3: and they won't compete together anymore??

user4: wait will they be retiring? or will they compete in separate categories?

user5: 'she has declined to speak on it at this time' I just KNOW mother is LIVID

↳ user6: no hard feelings my ass 💀

liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestie, lewishamilton

yourusername🔹️: 🎧😴

comments on this post have been disabled.

liked by oscarpiastri, susiewolff, yourbestie

yourusername🔹️: back at it ⛸️❄️

user1: DOES THIS MEAN SHE WILL STILL COMPETE

danielricciardo🔹️: That's our girl!

user2: oscar being the first to like as usual

lewishamilton🔹️:🔥🔥🔥

↳ yourusername🔹️: don't you dare send fire to melt my ice??

↳ lewishamilton🔹️: I was being empowering bozo

↳ user3: they're so sibling energy 😭

user4: I'M SO PROUD OF YOU Y/N

oscarpiastri🔹️: 🐧🐧

liked by yourusername

↳ user5: is this him 'making a move' 🥴

liked by yourusername, landonorris, charlesleclerc

oscarpiastri🔹️: Good day, pumped for a p5 finish 👊

yourinstagram🔹️: WOAH

↳ user1: SHE"S SO REAL FOR THIS

↳ oscarpiastri🔹️: What?

↳ yourusername🔹️: jawline sharper than my skates 😳

↳ oscarpiastri🔹️: Why are you always bringing my jawline into things?

↳ yourusername🔹️: OHMYGOD PASTRY ITS CALLED FLIRTING READ SOME SMUT

user2: UHHHHH WHAT WAS THAT INTERACTION WITH Y/N

↳ landonorris🔹️: IDK MATE

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, susiewolff

yourusername🔹️: thank you for having me @.mclaren!

mclaren🔹️: The pleasure was all ours Y/N 🧡

landonorris🔹️: *oscar's

↳user1: LANDO TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW

landonorris🔹️: I didn't even make it onto the post 😔other priorities i guess

↳yourusername🔹️: I WAS PROUD OF YOU TOO LANDO

oscarpiastri🔹️: I can't believe you'd post my ducks

↳yourusername🔹️: NO ONE IS HAPPY WITH ME POST

user2: soooo...the shoes?

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, susiewolff

oscarpiastri🔹️: Proud is an understatement 🧡🩵

user1: OUR GIRL WON THE GOLD 🥇

↳ user2: the way we haven't heard a peep from her ex skating partner too-

user3: IS THIS AN ANNOUNEMENT FINALLY

yourusername🔹️: 🧡🩵

↳ user4: ohmygod do the hearts represent them the papaya for mclaren the ice for y/n

danielricciardo🔹️: Congratulations Y/N!

user5: daniel being y/ns biggest supporter for like a decade😭🥹

user6: LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER

user7:what the hell does toto think of this 😭

↳ yourusername🔹️: believe his exact words were 'will oscar come to mercedes now 🙂'

user8: @.yourusername so you and oscar DID go skating 🥹🥹

↳ yourusername🔹️: was like bambi on ice

↳ user9: been waiting for them to realize for so long...like i knew it

↳ landonorris🔹️: preaching to the choir mate

a/n: thank you for reading! reblogs and feedback help sm <3

i really want to be posting more as I'm so busy with work and also graduating in a few months and that seems to be taking up all my time 😩 but I really appreciate the support I've been receiving and will be working through your requests asap 🤍

[pucksandpower]

Something Sweet

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)

The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.

This is bliss.

You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.

The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.

You could get used to this.

Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.

“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.

You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.

He’s … incredibly handsome.

Like, stupid levels of handsome.

“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”

He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.

You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”

But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.

Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.

“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”

You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.

Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.

He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”

You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.

You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.

“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.

“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”

Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”

“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”

Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”

There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.

“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.

“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”

You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”

There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.

Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”

You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...

“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”

He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”

Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”

Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”

He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.

The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.

At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.

You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.

It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.

You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”

You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...

Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”

His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”

You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.

Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.

You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.

Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.

A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?

Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …

***

The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.

Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.

I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘

You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.

It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.

No big deal at all.

The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.

Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.

You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”

Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.

The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.

“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.

“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”

You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.

Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.

“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”

The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.

An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.

“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.

He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.

“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”

Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”

You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.

“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”

Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.

Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.

“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.

For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.

Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.

Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.

Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.

This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.

“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.

You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”

Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”

Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.

You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”

Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”

You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”

“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”

Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”

Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”

You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”

Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”

The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.

“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.

Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”

The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.

A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.

Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.

With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.

Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.

When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.

“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”

You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.

The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.

Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.

“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.

You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”

Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.

The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.

“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”

His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.

“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”

Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.

The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”

It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.

“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”

He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”

You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”

With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.

You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.

When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.

You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.

One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.

You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.

Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.

You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.

The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.

And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.

***

The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.

“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.

You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”

“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.

“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.

“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.

“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”

He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.

“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.

“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.

“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”

The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”

Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.

“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”

The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.

“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”

Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.

Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.

Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.

“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”

You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.

You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.

It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.

“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.

“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.

“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”

“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”

“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”

Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.

When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.

“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”

And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.

You can taste forever on his lips.

When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.

***

The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.

You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.

This incredible man is now your husband.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”

A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”

A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.

“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.

Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”

Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”

With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.

He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”

The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.

“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.

His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”

Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.

Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.

He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.

A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.

Okay, two can play at this game.

Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.

That’s it.

You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.

“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.

But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.

When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.

“You missed a spot,” he rasps.

Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.

The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.

“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.

An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.

Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”

Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”

Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.

You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.

Literally.

[buckets-and-trees]

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.6k Summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Content Warnings: modern AU, smut, vaginal fingering, hand job, vaginal penetration, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: Another entry for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge (drive in setting, dialogue prompt in bold/italics), a verrrrrry late entry for @bigtreefest Essie's Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration (public sex/trying not to get caught) (and shhh, Essie said I could be as late as December, but this is just/only Labor Day Weekend), and week 13 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer (free week).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You didn’t want to watch this scary movie. Scary movies were not your thing.

But you didn’t know that the local drive-in movie place was doing Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays - a double feature night with a different rom-com and slasher fic every week when you said yes to your stupid hot neighbor Bucky Barnes. He’d asked if you liked drive in movies and if you’d go with him, and you hadn’t thought even a second before accepting.

Bumping into him throughout the building since you’d moved in last spring, sure, it was problematic to have a crush on a neighbor, but he was stupid hot.

Which made you do stupid things - like accept a date with him.

You canceled plans that you’d already had in favor of this date.

Typically you weren’t a fan of movies as a first date, but since it was a drive in, not a theater, you’d have your own space and not bother anyone if you actually wanted to talk - but if for some reason stupid hot Bucky Barnes turned out to be a dud, you would also be able to tune into the movie without seeming totally rude.

Privacy? Yes. Good.

A little bit of talking? Also yes.

He’d picked you up in his big pick up truck, which meant at the drive in, he’d backed into the spot, and now you were in the bed of the truck on a camp mattress and blankets.

Things had been lovely for the first flick - which turned out to be one of your favorites. The two of you had chatted sporadically but easily throughout. There’d been a short intermission where the two of you took a walk, stretched your legs, and gotten some ice cream from the concession stand.

All of that had been lovely. Easy time with him.

It had allowed you to trick yourself into the false confidence that you could handle the other half of the double feature.

But the slasher fic had you jumpy, scooting closer and closer into Bucky’s chest, until now you had your face permanently half hidden against his chest.

Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you chirped. 

“Are you sure? We can leave, I really don’t mind, I’ve see this at least twenty times.”

“No, I’m - I’m fine,” you said quietly. 

He murmured your name against the crown of your head, planting a kiss there. “We don’t have to stay.”

But that little kiss? Being tucked cozily against him? Your whole body was humming with butterflies and warmth despite the cool evening summer breeze flitting over your skin.

“I’m safe here,” you hummed. 

Bucky ticked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up to look him in the face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You sure about that?”

You giggled - genuinely but with a surge of nerves. “You’ll protect me.”

He smirked. “Only from everyone else.”

“Is that a threat?” You arched a brow and smirked. 

“It’s a promise,” he replied, lowering his voice, ducking closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

You shivered, and he chuckled and pulled you closer. You laughed into his chest, resting your hand lightly on his sternum. “Honestly, if you ever become an actor, don't ever do a slasher flick.”

He scoffed. “What? Why’s that? I’m not such a terrible actor!”

You looked back up at him and shook your head. “I’m not convinced. But also, I’d have to go see it, and clearly I wouldn’t be able to handle that experience.”

“Fine, I promise, I’ll tell the non-existent agent for the acting career I’m never pursuing that slashers are off the table.”

“Good.”

Bucky shifted to make both of you more comfortable. As he shifted, his strong arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer against his broad chest. You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, a stark contrast to the cool night air. His fingers began to trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine.

"You know," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing your ear, "I'm really glad you came out with me tonight."

You tilted your head to look up at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and those piercing blue eyes. "Me too," you whispered.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time - just spend time with you. But now you’re driving me crazy, and I can’t keep my hands off you."

Your breath hitched as his hand slowly slid down your arm, savoring every curve and dip. “Then don’t,” you responded. You slipped your leg up over his thigh, tangling your limbs together.

His touch was gentle yet purposeful, exploring the softness of your skin. You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers ghosted over the swell of your hip, squeezing lightly.

"I love how you feel," he whispered, his voice husky. "So soft, so perfect."

His hand continued its journey, caressing the generous curve of your waist. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, craving more. Bucky's fingers splayed across your stomach, appreciating the plush roundness there.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

Bucky's fingers danced up your arm, caressing the soft skin. He traced the curve of your shoulder, then along your collarbone. His touch was feather-light but left a trail of heat in its wake.

You tilted your head back to look at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and intense blue eyes. Bucky's gaze roamed over your face, lingering on your full lips before meeting your eyes again. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your flushed skin.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky reiterated, his eyes locked on yours.

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across your face. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed yours softly at first, tentative and questioning. You responded eagerly, pressing closer and parting your lips slightly.

Bucky took that as invitation to deepen the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you flush against him. You melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of his firm body against yours.

The kiss grew more heated, tongues exploring as passion built between you. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and muscular back, marveling at the strength you felt there. Bucky's own hands weren't idle, caressing your curves with reverence.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow," you whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Wow is right."

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. You jumped, startled by the sound from the movie. Bucky chuckled against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry," you mumbled, feeling a heat creep up your neck.

"Don't be sorry," Bucky murmured, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I think it's cute how jumpy you are."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Glad my terror is entertaining for you."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Well, I do enjoy being your protector."

Another scream rang out from the movie, making you flinch. Bucky's arms tightened around you instinctively. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his warm, masculine scent. "I'm usually not this much of a scaredy-cat, I swear."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "Sure, sure. I believe you." His tone was teasing, but his arms stayed tight around you.

The score for the movie swelled and pursued a chilling tenor, making you tense. Bucky's hand came up to cup the back of your head, gently pressing your ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat drowned out the sounds of the film.

"Better?" he murmured.

You nodded against him, feeling safer wrapped in his strong arms. "Much better."

His fingers combed through your hair soothingly. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment if the movie's too scary."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Bucky's eyes darkened as they roamed over your face. "I can think of a few ways to distract you from the movie."

His hand slid down your back, coming to rest on your hip. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling you against him. Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body pressed against your softer curves.

"Oh?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like what?"

Instead of answering, Bucky dipped his head and captured your lips in a searing kiss. This wasn't like the earlier kiss - soft and exploratory. This was heat and passion and barely restrained desire. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Bucky's hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of your lower back. You arched into him, craving more of his touch. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your skin.

You tilted your head, giving him a quizzical look. This man you had categorized as stupid hot because he was so handsome it couldn’t be real seemed to be as gone for you as you were for him.

"I'm driving you crazy?" you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You're the one who's been making me lose my mind for months now."

Bucky pulled back slightly, his blue eyes searching your face. "Really?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Really. I've had a crush on you since the day I moved in. Why do you think I always seemed to be doing laundry at the same time as you?"

A slow grin spread across Bucky's face. "And here I thought I was the one making excuses to run into you."

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Looks like we've both been idiots."

"Well," Bucky murmured, leaning in close again, "then we should make up for lost time, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding. You melted into the kiss, savoring the feel of his strong body against yours. His hands roamed your curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your body arching against Bucky's. His hands roamed lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Bucky," you gasped, breaking the kiss. "We're in public."

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Don't worry. No one can see us back here."

To prove his point, he rolled you both so you were lying on your back, his body hovering over yours. The truck's high sides and the darkness of the drive-in lot provided a surprising amount of privacy.

Bucky's lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, giving him better access as your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his abs.

"God, you feel amazing," you breathed.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. His hand slipped under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You arched into his touch, craving more.

Bucky's large hand cupped your breast, kneading gently through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped at the sensation, your body heating up despite the cool night air.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the movie made you jump. Bucky chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you.

"Still scared?" he teased, his thumb brushing over your nipple through your bra.

You shivered, both from his touch and the reminder of where you were. "Maybe a little," you admitted.

Bucky's eyes softened as he gazed down at you. "We can stop if you want," he murmured, his hand stilling on your breast.

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I don't want to stop. I just... I've never done anything like this before. In public, I mean."

He smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. We can just cuddle and watch the rest of the movie if you want."

You bit your lip, considering. The fear of getting caught was thrilling, but also nerve-wracking. But the way Bucky was looking at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, made you want to throw caution to the wind.

"I want you," you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his hand resuming its gentle kneading of your breast. You arched into his touch, your body humming with need. His other hand slid down your side, fingers teasing the waistband of your jeans.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips.

“Mmhmm, please touch me, Bucky,” you pleaded, craving more.

Bucky's fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. His hand slipped inside, cupping you through your underwear. You gasped at the contact, hips bucking up into his touch.

"So responsive," he murmured, nipping at your earlobe. "I love it."

His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clothed center, building the tension coiling in your belly. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed.

Bucky's lips trailed down your neck as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. You inhaled sharply as he made contact with your bare flesh, stroking through your folds.

"God, you're so wet already," he groaned against your collarbone.

You whimpered as he teased your entrance, gathering your arousal before circling your clit. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was building.

"Bucky, please," you breathed, not even sure what you were begging for.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he slowly pushed one finger inside you.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing you softly. "Gotta be quiet, remember?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short pants as he began to move his finger in and out. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing small circles that had you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped Bucky's broad shoulders as he worked you closer to the edge. The pleasure was building rapidly, your hips rocking against his skilled fingers. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your whimpers and gasps against his skin.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmured encouragingly. "Let go for me. I've got you."

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. Combined with the steady pressure on your clit, it was quickly becoming too much.

"Bucky," you gasped, your body tensing. "I'm -"

"Come for me," he growled softly, increasing the pace of his fingers.

The coil of tension in your belly snapped. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your orgasm hit. Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as you shuddered against him.

As you came down from your high, Bucky slowly withdrew his hand. You whimpered at the loss, feeling oversensitive and boneless. He pressed soft kisses to your face as you caught your breath.

Then he licked your slickness off his fingers, and your breath hitched as he groaned at the taste of you. Your hand trailed down his chest, palming the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you asked.

Bucky groaned softly, hips bucking into your touch. "You don't have to-"

You cut him off with a kiss, your hand continuing to rub him through his jeans. "I want to," you murmured against his lips. "Please, let me make you feel good too."

Bucky groaned, his hips rocking into your touch. "God, yes," he breathed.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, suddenly feeling clumsy with anticipation. Bucky chuckled softly, reaching down to help you. Together, you managed to unfasten his jeans and push them down his hips.

You slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. Bucky hissed in pleasure, his head dropping to your shoulder. You stroked him slowly, marveling at how hot and thick he felt in your hand.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned softly. "Your hand feels so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, you increased your pace, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Bucky's breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting into your grip. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, growing even harder if that was possible.

"Wait," Bucky gasped, gently grasping your wrist. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

Your breath caught at his words, desire pooling low in your belly. "Yes," you breathed. "Please, Bucky."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as his hands worked to push your jeans down your hips. You lifted your hips to help, shimmying out of the tight denim. Bucky's fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs as well.

The cool night air hit your heated skin, making you shiver. Bucky's warm hands ran up your thighs, parting them gently. He settled between your legs, his hard length pressing against your core.

Bucky reached for his wallet. You raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a condom.

"Presumptuous, weren't we?" you teased.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he tore it open. "More like hopeful. You sure about this?" he murmured, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching for the condom and wrapping your legs around his waist. "I'm sure. I want you, Bucky." You took his stiff cock in your hands and rolled the condom down slowly over his length.

Then you laid back, and he guided his tip to your entrance. He groaned softly, capturing your lips in another kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You gasped at the stretch, your body accommodating his impressive size.

Bucky stilled once he was fully seated inside you, giving you time to adjust. You both moaned softly at the sensation of being so intimately connected. He peppered kisses along your jaw and neck as you breathed through the initial stretch.

"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.

You nodded, running your hands down his muscular back. "Yeah, you can move."

Bucky started with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed. The movie's soundtrack provided some cover, but you still tried to keep quiet.

"God, you feel amazing," Bucky groaned softly, his hips snapping against yours.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly. The new position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure built rapidly.

"Bucky," you whined.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers tracing a path down your stomach until they settled on your sensitive clit. The gentle pressure of his thumb against you sent sparks of pleasure through your body. "Come for me," he whispered in your ear, urging you on as he continued to stroke and tease your sex. You couldn't resist the sensations, and soon you were gasping and moaning in ecstasy, and he swallowed up as much of your sounds as he could with another kiss.

Bucky's movements became more erratic as he chased his own release. You clenched around him, still riding the waves of your orgasm. The added pressure pushed him over the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath. The sounds of the movie filtered back into your awareness - screams and dramatic music that seemed absurdly out of place now.

Bucky lifted his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. "That was..."

"Amazing," you finished for him, grinning.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You whimpered at the loss, suddenly feeling very exposed. Bucky noticed your discomfort and quickly helped you redress, then took care of himself.

Once you were both decent again, he pulled you back into his arms. You snuggled against his chest, feeling sated and content.

"So," Bucky murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, "I think it's safe to say this was a successful first date?"

You grinned and looked up at him. "I'd say so. Though I'm not sure how we're going to top this for date number two."

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm sure we can come up with something. I've got plenty of ideas."

"Is that so?" you teased, trailing your fingers along his jawline. "Care to share?"

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "How about I show you instead? Say, next Saturday?"

Your heart fluttered at the promise in his eyes. “Just no more slashers, deal?”

“Deal,” he chuckled, then sealed it the best way, tipping your chin up and capturing your lips in a kiss.

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Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

[chxrrysangel]

Thinking really hard about Mr. Logan Howlett this week. Haven’t even watched Deadpool & Wolverine yet but the Hugh Jackman renaissance is making me FERAL.

ANYWAYS

Logan has always been a hands on kind of guy. Always the “better to do it yourself than trust someone else” you know? So when your dear next neighbor has some car issues, he refuses to call up the local mechanic.

It’s summer, 90+ degrees outside and humid like a motherfucker. On what’s typically a quiet morning during days like this, too hot for even the local kids to venture outside, you hear some clinking and what sounds oddly enough like a drill. Peeking through the curtains, your eyes scan the mostly empty street to see Logan bent over the hood of his car.

And he’s shirtless.

Even from this distance, you can see his flushed skin glisten with sweat as he works. You fall into a daze, how could you not? It would take being blind to not notice how hot your neighbor was, and your brain never failed to forget it. His jeans hung somewhat low on his hips, hugging his strong thighs in a way that made anyone salivate with need. His back muscles were a sight to behold, straining and shifting as he worked.

He wiped the sweat off his brow, turning around to lean against the bumper. You panicked, ducking your head out of his sight. You angled yourself in a way that would hopefully obscure your compromising position, decreasing your chances of a potential complaint. From this new position, you found it even harder to move away from the window. He was perfect chiseled and toned, almost as if he was crafted by the gods themselves.

“Fucking hell,” you whispered.

The longer you stared was the more flushed you felt, unable to pull away as he moved to work under the car. The two of you hadn’t spoken more than a minute at a time, but his charming demeanor quickly enticed you. Just then, you got an idea.

Scrambling to the kitchen and almost slipping on the hardwood, you gathered your ingredients. By the looks of it, he’d be outside for quite a while. What kind of neighbor would you be if you didn’t offer him a drink?

A little bit later, you stood in front of the mirror trying to work up some courage. Giving yourself a little pep talk and a little minute shot of liquid courage, you ventured outside with a tray and the brightest smile you could muster. Upon hearing your footsteps and the soft clinks of ice, he turned around before you had the chance to call out.

And he smiled, canines on full display and cheekbones puffy with glee.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Your cheeks heat up at his compliment, feeling bashful.

“Stop, you’re too kind.”

“Never that,” he retorted with a wink. He points to the strawberry printed tray in your arms.

“Some of that for me?”

“As a matter of fact, it is. Thought you could use a drink.” He gushed, taking the tall glass cup gratefully. You set down the pitcher and tray on his tool kit, planning to come back for it later.

“Well uh…call me if you need anything else yeah?”

He didn’t respond at first, choosing that moment to make your escape before you ran your mouth.

“Wait.” You paused mid-step, turning back to face him.

“I could use some company…if you don’t mind that is.”

“No, no. I’d like that,” you responded, stumbling over your words.

“Yeah?,” he said with a boyish surprise in his tone. You assured him with a nod and smile.

“Lemme get you a seat then. Be right back.” You watched as he wiped the grease off his hands, jogging past you to get a chair from inside. Even covered in sweat and grime, he was hottest man you’ve ever seen.