#i'm not making Miles the bad guy
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My controversial Milex theory
So, common lore is that Miles has always been this free and easy, liberated rocker, and Alex was the repressed, closeted one, holding Miles back from coming out. But recent events have made me think differently. There was the Miles at church thing, the realisation from Knee Socks that that is possibly about Miles and his religious guilt (the ghost in your room etc), and now the Suki Waterhouse thing. He has deliberately posted her song, congratulating her on her hit. It is an unusual move for him, but there won’t be any speculation about them because she is settled with Robert Pattison and they have recently had a baby. It is like Miles is making an effort to show there is no bad blood between them.
Why? Well I am thinking that maybe he is gearing up to come out, and seeing as Suki was his biggest publicised romance and she was supposed to have left him for Bradley Cooper (who it is rumoured also gay/bi) then Miles is now saying between the lines that it is no big deal what happened between them.
Alex always gets the bad rap because he is the one who has had long term girlfriends, but I think we have to look closer at Miles. He too has been in situations where he was sticking his tongue down the throat of a Page Three Girl or some model, and his lyrics in the early days were full of ‘she’ and ‘girl’ much more than FWN or Humbug. Even his videos always had females in them, just as much as AM’s videos (and let’s not forget, Alex has never fully interacted with a woman in an MV).
Personally, I think from 2008 – 2015 Miles and Alex had a casual thing going, but listening to Alex’s lyrics from this period, I would say that he realised early on that he was in love with Miles, and it was an open secret. See any clip of the Monkeys being interviewed around this time and the other boys pull faces when he talks about Miles. Whereas I think Miles was still convincing himself he could ‘go straight’ if he wanted to. I say this because in between DWYA and CDG we have EYCTE, and twice Alex has made reference to them ‘falling in love’ during this time, and by the end of the tour, Miles looks as lovesick and smitten with Alex as Alex has with him since 2008. Miles could no longer fight his feelings and had to come to terms with his sexuality, but by then he had mucked Alex around too much, and Alex had to go back to being CEO of Arctic Monkeys, so Alex wouldn’t commit to him. Hence you get CDG (but you also get the Ultracheese). This led to their breakdown around 2017 -2018. But instead of what everyone thinks, that La Cigale was the beginning of the end, I think it was the opposite.
By NYE 2018/2019 they are in their local in Bethnal Green, celebrating (Louise is there but Alex is trying to ignore her) and by Change the Show, Miles’ lyrics are no longer gender specific (apart from Caroline) and he sounds more annoyed at Alex rather than full of angst and hurt like CDG.
Then we get to OMB/The Car. OMB is full of songs where Miles is reflecting upon his own behaviour, and on The Car we have Jet Skis and Hello You that hint at their reconciliation.
So in summary, I think Alex’s closet is very public but in their inner circle everyone knew the truth, but Miles’ struggles were far more internal and it took for him to realise he was in love with Alex for him to come to terms with who he really was and he had to become comfortable with that before they had any future.
#i'm not making Miles the bad guy#but i think his internalised homophobia is deeper than we thought#alex turner#miles kane#milex#milex theory
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I gotta say, a personal pet peeve of mine is when people get really into Scourge (making aus and fanart and fics and posts and whatnot) and go "OMG Scourge needs someone to be like his Tails" and then they either make a whole new oc or assume Fiona takes that spot
Miles Erasure
#sonic the hedgehog#scourge the hedgehog#anti sonic#anti tails#miles prower#miles the fox#fandom wank#i just be ramblin#''Well I didn't know about anti-Tails''#People will do research into their favorite guy but evidently not enough to know anything outside of Fiona's existence and Scourge's#daddy issues#Also listen nothing wrong with Fiona. they were partners in crime and dating for a minute#But it tells me how much research you did if you just saw her and took at face value that she fills Tails' spot for Scourge#it's the oc thing that gets me more though#nothing wrong with giving Scourge little buddies or additional friends but like. It's so clear how much people didn't even know#Miles/anti-tails existed#I'd say 'you'd think if people got obsessed with a guy outside of the media he originated from they'd do bare minimum research about how he#came to be and his relationships' but the same thing that happened to Scourge has been happening to Surge. And the Kit erasure (while not#nearly as bad) is absolutely alive and well#Scourge and Miles also have a lowkey angsty and interesting relationship too#I know no one is gonna read the tags but I'm gonna make this clear anyways#This post is not: ''I hate when people make ocs and aus and have fun with fanon''#This post is: ''I hate that Scourge got popular and you can tell that people don't know about and don't care about Miles with the amount of#people who have aus that don't include Miles or Scourge having any bonds outside of sonic at all#and by the amount of aus where people very seriously go 'omg he needs a little buddy so he's not a lone ranger!' as if there's never been#a Tails in his life before''
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Booooo you being like that is the best part of you ❤️
You know what? You're right. I take back my apology for being Like That. You're lucky to have me act Like That.
#lumi.txt#fandom#i make myself laugh and that's all that's important#thank you anon this was very sweet and i'm being very silly about it#(mostly i just felt bad about the mile long series of posts i put on your guys' dashes)#(i'm not usually so high traffic i promise! XD)
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this is my last post on this subject. probably. maybe. but look. as far as whether the ceremony was ""appropriate."" the brutal truth is that this is a risk you are taking if you choose to retire at an event like the davis cup. from an events-planning perspective, it is not anywhere close to the same league as roland garros or the atp finals or a big-money exho. i'm sure itf is doing their best lmao but it's just. not. and if you choose to retire at a competitive event, well. upsets are also a risk you take. a slicker outfit would have a more robust plan in place for that.
i'm using the second person but to be clear i'm not saying that i think rafa wanted a perfect movie moment. i think he wanted to retire in a meaningful competitive event on home soil and that was the most important consideration of all. (although i also would not be surprised to find out that there was some magical thinking at work. lmao.) i also don't believe for a second that he would have made himself available for a singles match if he didn't believe in his heart he could win. even when no one else did. (no one else except...) that's what makes competitors competitors.
rafa chose to play this event. ferru chose to put him in singles. the tournament organizers (feli) chose to put their logistical efforts in one basket. this was a group effort, guys.
sorry i did just listen to 30 minutes of the cope hosts reading all the sports tabloid criticism to david ferrer's face and i do feel a kind of way. it wasn't a winning lineup. yeah. no shit. (and again, the only thing i don't get is how anyone didn't see this coming a mile away but apparently they didn't.) but it's also not like ferru personally made rafa retire at this event and then disinvited the rest of the big 4 with his own two hands so maybe. maybe. we could chill.
#and when the crystal ball that shows me the future reveals that no matter the lineup they would have lost ANYWAY--#i think rba's generally underrated actually i'm just saying it's sports!#that is the JOY AND GLORY OF SPORTS you cannot know who's gonna win until the match is played!!!!#needless to say i am struggling to be at peace with the fact that it is exactly the qualities that make this guy extremely appealing to me#that led to a predictable outcome that everyone is mad about even though it should have been visible from miles away#and that he is more than ready to shoulder the blame because that's just what he does i hate it thanks#this is what i mean when i say i can't be either funny or normal about ferru. deathly earnest and deeply abnormal only.#probably for the best that none of the kids have got me this bad yet. you don't need this on your dash every week.#david ferrer#rafael nadal#feliciano lopez#rafafest 2k24#davis cup 2024#i should not be allowed to post at this time of night.#meta
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"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.
Eddie looks down. "Huh?"
"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.
Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.
"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."
He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"
That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'
He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.
"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.
"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"
"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"
Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.
"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?
"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."
He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.
"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.
"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.
He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.
"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."
"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.
"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.
Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."
He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"
He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.
"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.
Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"
Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.
"You're not straight?"
"No."
"And you were flirting?"
"Yes."
"With me?"
He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"
They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.
#eddie: you were flirting with me on purpose?!!!#steve: all those girls were right not to go out with me im a fraud im a fake i couldnt flirt my way out of a wet paper bag#idiots to lovers#steddie#ficlet#my writing
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as an Avs fan, good luck 🙃
Literally me seeing this:
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I'm going to take it the good way,
because I can't really say I saw the match but I saw the first 2 row(? i don't know but i saw the first two secments of twenty minutes and then I had to fall asleep tp not bother anyone with the lights on, but they were really good in what I saw, like fully more i don't know the name but like trows at the portery, and they were like activeded more when the other team score the first goal, and the goalie take off his helmet right after the other ones score him a goal, which I learnt in that moment that was allow to do. It wasn't boring, and I enjoyed the game so I think I'm going to watch the one of today, so I'm going to support them even if the lost, which I don't want them to do. :D
It's really fun to write my throughts on anything, I hope it's not annoying to the anon (I just realised that I don't know if they get like an inbox or something saying that they got responded) that I wrote so much in response of a simple commentary, but it was fun!!! and it cheer me up to write so it's all good on my side.
I'm also sorry but just a little because it's still fun, about the amount of long tags, I just kept writing my thougrhts as I thourght them, just the first two and the last two are short and one in the middle.
#not literally#but that's the feeling#I also didn't really saw the disc(? ball(¿ very much- maybe because I have a little of bad vision or maybe because they're really fast#And I also didn't understand the stadistics/graphics on the upper left side#I have no idea who made the four goals two on each side- because they showed three or two names and in top it said “assitence”#or something like that- and I have already been interested in football so I assume- still assume that it's the same#but I don't know which of those names made the goal and which made the assistence- I also saw one guy who made 6 assistence in the year#That's really good I assume and feltd#It's very sweet how the go to hight five the others in the bench when they make a goal#I guess right now that the man who goes to hight five the others is the one who made the goal#I originaly saw the game wanting to see Miles Wood but it was interesting without him so it's good#good luck to anon too!! and cheers#even tho I'm not british and maybe used it wrong lmao#cheers tho
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It Always Leads To You
joel miller x younger fem!reader
summary: it's been a year; now you're back. how can joel be so sure of those old summer feelings in your eyes when there's a new hand holding yours?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, toxic relationship, cheating and infidelity themes, mutual pinning, kinda dark!joel, smut, p. in v., pussy pronouns, oral (f. receiving), fingering, manhandling, lowkey forced creampie, ANGST, the taylor swift evermore (2020) references go wild, happy ending cause y'all weak asses voted for it and i love to keep my citizens happy!
word count: 5,199 words
side note: my joel miller era is alive and breathing after this tlou re-watch i'm doing my brother swears it's for him but it's mostly me and my fic/womanly reasons, yes we love gaslight girlkeep girlbossing in here gotta say, finding inspiration for this amidst my wattpad duties and christmas movie marathon was harder than i thought lol. was it worth the wait? please like, comment and reblog to let me know! it's based on this request (they're still open btw!)
part: I / II
Holidays linger like bad perfume.
Your eyes wander through the streets: the roads you've got to call home, the ones where you grew up. They're familiar, but so foreign, it's hard to believe they're the same ones where you scrapped your knees at ten and kissed Joel just last winter. It's as if both timelines, your life, feels more like two separate lives, miles apart.
"Hey, you okay?" tender, from the driver's seat; you're still getting used to the soft.
There's a reassuring smile your way, his hand finding yours to give it a squeeze. You notice his palm is the same size as yours. It fits perfectly, but there's a ghost of what it feels like to have it all wrapped up, looming over your itchy palm like all the yearning's a joke.
You nod. "Just tired. That's all"
He sighs. "If I wanted you to lie to me, I would've just asked"
"I'm not lying" you defend yourself as his pickup truck parks on the sidewalk.
He makes a funny face, and you laugh.
"I'm serious, Nick" your lips purse, a thing you do when you lie, yet he still hadn't noticed, like Joel. "Don't worry"
He doesn't look that convinced, so you take off your seat belt and grab his hand.
"C'mon. Mom and dad must be waiting for us"
"Hey" Nick calls you out.
"Yeah?"
"Who lives there?" and he's pointing behind you.
It's his. Joel's house.
"A friend of my dad's" you answer, dryly.
It was last december when you stood there in his porch, begging. It feels like time has stopped ever since, and you're still right where he left you.
"So will he be here?" Nick asks. "You know, since he knows your dad"
"Don't think so" you shrug, "he's got better things to do anyway. Bitter old man" comes out, with more venom than intended.
"Oh! Alright, sorry for asking"
You come back to your senses, realizing you've shared more than you should.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not that important; let's just go inside"
Your mom and dad greet you as soon as you cross the door. Last year, you'd basically fled away before New Year's, with a poor excuse and a broken heart. They both greet you as if nothing happened, although you're sure they remember your tear streamed face coming back from Joel's house, where it all ended.
As your mom corners Nick with kisses and embarrassing questions, your dad whispers to you:
"Joel asked what happened" you quirk and eyebrow, "wanted to know why you left"
"Eh, it's not important" you try to dismiss. "Definitely not as important for a guy like Joel to know"
"What is that supposed to mean?" your dad inquires. You often wonder if they knew.
"Nothing" you laugh nervously. "Listen, why don't you go and meet Nick, yeah? Did you know he likes fishing too?"
The distraction works with your dad; the same can't be said about you.
There's conversation flowing, but through the snow covered window, your eyes keep glancing back to his own. The view is dark, and you ponder if he's fled as well, the town plagued with memories too painful to reminisce.
You can still feel his hands roaming your body, the lust filled gaze that hid warmth. Every time he touches you, you have to remind you he isn't there: that the lips that kiss you, don't taste like his, that the hands that hold you, aren't big as his, and that the face that looks at you like they'll never choose another, is one you haven't learned to love yet.
Joel's memory cuts like thorns: they sink their teeth into your heart, that bleeds with that blood-colored sadness you're all too familiar with. He's poisoned you. But-- isn't it his love also the antidote for this disease he's gave you?
You abruptly stand up, plate half eaten.
"I-I need some air"
It's cold outside, but you don't care. All you want to do is sit on the porch, and drop some tears, something you can do inside too, but the fear of your muffled cries being able to be heard stops you.
You walk towards the stairs, to sit there like you do on summer days, yet there's now a difference: the snow. So you end up slipping, falling with your butt on the floor.
You yelp, embarrased although no one can see you.
"Need help?"
That you're wrong, apparently.
You don't even need to raise your view to know who that voice belongs to: you know it like a record, spinning in circles on your head.
He offers his strong hand your way, and although the cold wind hits your face, you're back to spring on the cabin: wet feet, bright sun and beating heart.
"I can get up myself" you reject his help, pushing the hand out. You keep avoiding his gaze, so you don't see how he's reacted, yet you hope he feels bad about it.
You walk up to the front door, and it takes you a while to realize he hasn't left yet. On top of that, it seems like he's following you. Just what you needed.
"What are you doing here?" you question, but your tone sounds like you're offended.
"Your folks invited me over" Joel answers, "Says they got a special guest"
"Yeah" this time, you do look back, finding him to be much closer than you thought he'd be. Yet you stand tall, defiant even. "It's my boyfriend"
You savour the way his expression falters, before the stoic façade takes over again.
"Boyfriend?" Joel scoffs, as if you just told the funniest joke ever.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" you bite back. "What? Think a pretty girl can't get a new man?"
"Never said I'd doubt'it" he clicks his tongue. "Y'a could get any man you'd want, sugar"
Ironically, the only man you want stands before you.
"Right" you chuckle dryly, "I think it's kind of funny of you to say that"
Joel's eyes bore into yours, a clash of emotions circling in his chocolate orbs.
"Y/n-"
"Don't" you stop him. Then sigh, defeated. "Let's just go inside"
As soon as you both arrive on the dinning room, your parents both greet Joel. Then, they introduce him to their guest, just as promised.
"Joel, this is Nick, y/n's boyfriend" your father speaks. "Nick, this is Joel, a dear old friend of mine"
Nick, as the gentleman he is, offers his hand. Joel accepts, but you can see the barely desguised displease behind his eyes.
"Wow, strong grip" Nick comments before joking, "you can let go now, I'm not going anywhere"
The hidden meaning of his words, whether intentional or not, hit Joel in the face. It's obvious by the way he backtracks, letting go of Nick's hand.
As you sit again, Nick leans to your side and whispers.
"Is this the guy who lives in the house across the street?" you nod. "Thought you'd said he had better plans. But, see? I told you: no plan's more important than coming to your house"
He's always making jokes, trying to make you smile, but it's done the opposite now. The food has gone cold long ago, yet you cut through the meat with a violence so palpable, even your mom tells you to slow down.
The nerve of Joel, showing up to your house like it's nothing, talking to you like he's unaware of his spell on you, acting like Nick is some sort of competition when he pulled out of the race himself a winter ago.
"So, Nick. How did you two meet?" your mom adresses him, eager to know details.
"It was at a party, actually, through mutual friends. Not a very spectacular story, that I know. What's funny is, she asked me what hour it was. And what did I say?"
"He didn't answer my question. Instead, he said: For you, I'm available any hour" you answer.
Your parents laugh, but Joel remains quiet. You wonder what he's thinking.
"You know" looking at Nick while cutting the steamed vegetables a little too agressive, "y/n actually hates parties"
"Joel" you warn through gritted teeth.
"Really? I didn't know that!" Nick seems so genuine, Joel can't help but hate him. He looks at you, concerned "You didn't tell me"
You can't believe he would rat you out like that. The appropiate word isn't hate, and you don't know how to describe it, but parties aren't really your environment; if you can, you'd choose to be anywhere else.
He'll pay for that.
"Joel" you seethe, an ugly smile painted in your features, "did you know Nick knows how to fish?"
It's a direct jab at him. He feels stupid for letting you get to him. The inferiority complex towards some random guy he just met, years younger, is actually laughable.
"I like-" Nick wants to add on that.
"Well" Joel interrupts, looking at you. "You never taught me like ya' were s'pposed to"
"You never cared to learn" you reply, acidic.
He sips his drink, trying to hide the smirk that's formed on his lips. You can't shut up, and he loves you've stayed the same.
"That means I've got some classes to take" Joel leans back on his chair, relaxed like he's won this round. "Just tell me when"
The tension cuts like the storm that's just formed outside.
"You should stay over, Joel" your dad offers when he takes a peak at the climate, "it's too dangerous outside"
Joel seems indestructible, like not even a snow blizzard could pierce through the rough old man. But he agrees, much to your dismay.
It's probably midnight already, and all you've done is toss around the bed. Nick peacefully snores next to you, and you envy how easily he falls asleep. You've always find it hard to sleep, the nighttime plagued with too many loud thoughts that fill the silence.
You get up carefully, heading downstairs for some water. You sip with tranquility when a noise jolts you from your sit.
The wooden floor creaks, making you aware you're not alone anymore.
"Can't sleep?"
You don't answer, seeing his sturdy figure emerge from the shadows until the dim moonlight shines over his aging features. Silence settles in. Outside, the wind howls, bumping against the windows with violence, like your heart does now against your chest.
"Not much of a talker, are you?"
"There's nothing to talk" cuts your response through the thick tension, the air suddenly suffocating.
You take another sip, but the tremble of your hand doesn't go unnoticed by Miller.
"Right" Joel sits next to you, on the kitchen island. "Won't even look at me, sugar? You've got eyes" his voice drops, "use 'em"
"What are you doing, Joel?" you ask looking at him, tears threatening to spill, making your bright eyes shimmer with pain.
He gets up abruptly, like he's woken up from a trance. He's seen his own pain on your eyes, and he hates it.
"Joel?" you ask again, demanding but softly.
He can't answer. Instead, he leaves.
"Goodnight, y/n" voice raw, many emotions boiling, hidden on the inside. It hurts.
If you hadn't changed, Joel too stayed the same.
A goddamn coward.
Two days have passed since, and now it's Christmas Eve.
You kneel, putting the presents under the tree. Normally, your parents would have much more people around for the holidays, but thanks to the storm, it's just them, Nick, Joel and you.
"I'm gonna miss Mrs. Stone's cookies" you pout, "I wish she could be here"
"It's a big loss for tonight" your dad sighs. "Next time, yeah? Christmas will come again faster than you think"
You nod, still absent as he walks away.
"Hey" Joel pops up behind, seemingly from nowhere.
"Hey" you reply, voice laced with tiredness just at the sight of him. How will you manage to survive until New Year's? You have no idea, the task harder if he's staying in the same house as you are.
"Put this in there, will ya'?"
He hands you a box, neatly wrapped up. What stands out the most is the silver bow on top. Your stomach drops: it's your favorite color.
"Y-yeah" you stammer. When the present falls in your hands, you notice it looks like Joel did it himself.
"Didn't know you were capable of nice things" you whisper. There's no anger in your voice, only loss.
"I'm trying" is what he says, before leaving you alone. Until then, you realize he had been touching you, the skin where his hand was on your shoulder burning.
Dinner goes by swiftly, conversation flowing easily courtesy of Nick and your father, who both have in common the love for talking. It may be your brain messing with you, but his eyes never leave you, fixated on your every move, savoring when your lips open and take a bite; when you lick them afterwards, salt in your mouth he'd love to take off in a movement of his tongue. The ghost of your lips haunts him, cruelly playing with his yearning now that he's got you across the table. It's a few centimeters, really, but it feels like you're miles away: and it's his fault. You're no longer his, and he's reminded of it every time your boyfriend kisses what he once had.
Now it's time to open the presents, and you excitedly raise your hand to go first.
"Alright, sweetheart. You know I can't deny you anything" your father beams, "go ahead. Choose any present you'd like to open first"
Joel's eyes are on you, and you know he's desperately waiting for you to open his first. Maybe partly in courage, maybe partly in fear, but you choose Nick's first: something safe to start with.
"That's mine!" he chirps, and Joel mockingly imitates his kid-like joy under his breath.
You unwrap the present, finding a small box inside.
"Please, don't be another box" you joke, and he laughs.
"You think that low of me? Please"
You keep unwrapping and find a bag. The bag has a small tag that reads: Gotcha.
"Nick! God, you're so corny" you tease as you open the bag. Inside, there's a velvet box, and by the looks of it, you can tell it's jewelry. You gasp, pulling out a silver charm tied to a silver thin chain: it's a marlin fish. "Nick..."
"I know. Marlin isn't your favorite fish, but that's all I could find" you get up, wrapping him on a tight hug. Aware you've got an audience, he leans and whispers "I knew fishing was special to you, because of your dad and childhood. Maybe now" he takes it from your hands, carefully putting it around your neck, "it can also be our special thing"
Joel sees the scene unfold in front of him, his grip tight on the cloth of his jeans until it's white. His jaw clenches at the affection display; all he sees is red.
"What about that one?" your mom points out Joel's present. A pit of nerves forms in your stomach. "I don't remember seeing it there"
Before you can grab it, your dad moves faster, examining the box on his hands.
"It's Joel's" he makes a pause, "for y/n"
You pretend to be shocked, and you can tell Nick tenses at your side.
"You didn't tell me you were close"
"Used to" you correct quickly, despite the knot on your throat. "Not anymore"
"He still got you a present, though"
You don't get to answer because your dad leaves the box on your lap.
"Open it" it's soft but feels threathing for some reason, "I'm curious"
Joel's resting hands tremble as much as yours while you open the present. You reveal the simple white box under the wrap, opening it up.
Your voice comes out shaky as you call his name. And he can see it: the muffled laughters on the shed, the warmth of the cabin's fire, the fogged up windows of his car, the bruises on your tits and that voice, so vulnerable, he can see you on his porch, saying those three words that terrified him so much, his solution was breaking your heart.
"What is it?" your dad asks.
"It's a scarf" the fabric tickles your fingers that wander through the loose strands.
You remember it all too well.
"Oh, it's vintage!" your mom comments when she sees the worn-out aspect.
But just as your affair with Joel, you keep the secret of it's real owner.
"It's perfect" you mutter, remembering better times: ones where he'd wrap the scarf colored as the leaves on the ground around your neck, covering bruises he'd just made while you joked you'd steal it, and Joel would say he'd just let you, that it looked better on you anyway.
You've forgotten the good, so used to thinking of Joel at your worst, like a punishment to endure and sink your shipwreck even deeper. You felt lost, replaying memories that seemed stuck on a loop. Since last december, all you've known is pain; creeping up through the cracks in your fleeting happiness, one you've tried to find to no avail. One day, past the curses and cries, maybe there'll be happiness. But as for now, that day seems terribly far.
As he sees your teary gaze, Joel often wonders were it went wrong. When did hurt was all you had for him in that gaze of yours he can't bare to look that long, not before he's reliving all those seasons by your side, replaying his footsteps on the snow, grass, water and fallen leaves, trying to find the one where it all went wrong. The torture he now wears like a second skin, his agony painted words addressed to the fire of a house that feels so empty and alone.
"We should continue" your dad speaks over the silence, "there are still many presents left"
The night moves slowly, and the scarf you've chosen to wear is now suffocating around your neck. But you can't take it off. This is the closest you've been to Joel on a year; it still smells like him. As the presents run out, you excuse yourself early to bed, only to wake up again in the middle of the night. You want to pee, so you exit your room and walk to the bathroom, your bare feet against the cold wood sending shivers down your spine that only seem to augment when you walk past his door, next to the bathroom. After being done, you splash some water on your face, as if that would make some sense get to you.
"What are you doing?" you ask yourself in the mirror. Your tired reflection stares back at you, in silence.
You open the door, ready to go back to bed when a hand covers your mouth and shoves you inside.
"Don't scream" your cries go muffled against his hand, the calloused digits pressing against your soft skin, "wanna wake 'em up?"
You shake your head, so he lets your mouth free.
"Joel" you call out, but he's facing the door, his back all you see. No sound can be heard, aside from his uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry" he says, and then you hear the small click of the door's lock.
"What the hell?"
This time, he faces you, but his movements are so quick you don't register his lips on yours until it's too late. He kisses you like a starved man who hasn't had a meal in years, eating you out while your body acts up on it's own, the urgency embarrasing even.
"No" you pull back. Your mind screams in guilt at how much you want this, and that's all you can hear aside from his ragged breaths.
"No?"
"It isn't fair"
"To lover boy out there?" he teases, "I know he ain't treating you right, or ya' wouldn't look me the way ya' do"
"Don't, Joel" your tone is icy, "Nick treats me better than you ever could"
He laughs, darkly. "You know I ain't meant that" he corners you against the sink, the material cold against your bare legs; you don't sleep with nothing but an oversized t-shirt, despite the weather.
"Riddle me this, sugar: if he treats you so well, why are you so fucking wet?"
Your heart beats so fast you fear you'll die. He gets closer, his hot breathe prickling against your ear.
"It takes a man to please a woman" he tucks a loose strand behind your ear, "and I ain't leaving my baby displeased"
His fingers pull down the panties until your clit is exposed.
"Look at 'er" he traces a teasing finger over the puffy skin, coated on your slick "missed me, didn't she? Gonna treat 'er so good, she won't ever feel lonely again"
He softly kisses your neck, the trepidation and regret tying your stomach in knots.
Joel teases your needy core with his finger.
"Tell you somethin', sugar" Joel finds it hard to hide his adoration, "I missed 'er too"
He stares into your eyes while pushing two rough fingers inside your cunt. You bite your lip, holding back your moans.
"Need summ help?" he kisses you roughly, smirking when he feels your shaky breath against his lips. He pushes them in and out faster, making your walls squeeze tightly around his fingers.
"Did he ever have you comin' this fast? I'ont think so" he whispers against your neck. You whisper his name through labored breaths, making a smug smile adorn his features. "Good girl"
He proceeds to kneel down, despite the creak of his bones. You see him leave a trail of kisses down your thighs, your legs opening wider in response. His tongue gives rapid flickers against your sensitive bud, aware of the lack of time. He slurps the pulsing cunt, his head moving back and forth while he sucks, coating his moustache on your juices. Joel goes back to the quick movements, tongue knowing your spots and twisting fingers as aid, causing your back to arch.
"Fuck" you curse as you come, gripping the sink a bit too tight.
Joel then pulls away and places his fingers coated in your arousal in his mouth and licks them. He sees the obscene display in the fogged mirror, satisfied.
"Goodnight, sugar" Joel bids goodbye like it's nothing, kissing your lips that taste like you. "Still as sweet as ever"
It's New Year's Eve.
"You're leaving?" you sound so sad, Joel can't help but scoff. In the end, he'd stayed long after the storm had passed, your father arguing holidays weren't meant to be spent alone. So he stayed.
And now, Nick is leaving.
"I'm sorry" he apologizes for the millionth time, "but granny is sick. I don't know if she'll make it another year, so say the doctors. I would love to stay, really, but I have to be with her"
You understand, having lost your grandad years ago. But that doesn't mean you're okay with it: Nick leaving means a clear path for Joel, who didn't stop with him sleeping next room, and certainly won't now, despite not having interacted with you since he ate you out on the bathroom.
He pulls you into a long hug and a kiss that doesn't feel the same anymore. "Will you be okay?"
"Yeah" you nod, "I'll miss you though"
"Well, I'll be all yours when you get back"
You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes.
"See you, y/n. I love you"
Your lips purse after you utter those three words back.
Later at night, the house is filled with guests. The lively environment is restored, and you feel less confined to Joel's claws, so many faces to speak and distract yourself with, compared to Christmas and the past couple of days. You clutch the marlin charm tightly, mind busy wandering to places it shouldn't. Joel stares at you from across the room, eyes trained on you as he sips his drink calmly, like he's won; you don't know why he's keeping score if he already knows it. You wander off to the kitchen, and Joel follows you.
"You have to stop" you speak as soon as he enters, aware he would follow you.
"I ain't do shit"
You turn around, facing him. "Bullshit, Joel"
"Tell me, what'd I do?" he comes closer, and despite your erratic heart and fear, you stay still; challenging.
"You did this, Joel" his expression falters for a second, the weight of last december's crimes dawning on him. "Don't try to make me feel guilty"
"I ain't. That wasn't your fault" he sighs, breath dragging long like a cigarrette. "But this" he motions with his hands the reduced distance, "this it is"
Your breath hitches.
"We can't keep doing this, Joel. Nick doesn't deserve it"
He pins you against the counter with force, gripping the skin of your wrists until you're sure you'll get a bruise. Joel's eyes darken at the thought of your frail and soft body under his rough figure and belly, his strength and your weakness making the job of putting you under his will, so much easier.
"Don't say his name" he whispers, his breath laced with alcohol, "he ain't here anymore. Ain't nothing to stop me now, right, sugar?" Joel purrs as he steps towards you, taking your face in his hands before starting a heated kiss, making you stumble.
This was so wrong, but it felt so right, the missing pieces falling like dominoes.
He was your pain divine: you needed his hurt to bleed and feel alive again. Maybe the red of the blood and the blue of your sadness could paint your darkest grey skies with a happiness you've craved since you lost him.
"Tell me to stop" Joel whispers, tempting like a devil as he kisses down your neck, littering it with hickeys.
"Don't"
Next thing you know, you're excusing yourself upstairs and then Joel goes missing too, both inside of your bedroom.
Your dress was the first thing to go.
"Wear it for me?" you're about to answer, lips pursing, but he cuts you off, "and don't lie, sugar. Don't get too used to the bad girl schtick"
"I only wore this dress so you could take it off"
He kisses you desperately, legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you to bed, and the memories of your first flood you as he drops you down to your back, watching the way you bounce. He has you just like he wanted: moaning his name while he leaves tender kisses on the soft bare flesh.
"Joel-" you gasp. Despite the chatter downstairs and music, you try to remain low as he wraps his lips around your nipples. He then moves to your breasts, covering them with his kisses and hickeys. He hadn't touched a woman ever since you left, the feeling of the rosy innocent skin on his rough teeth making him loose all common sense, the real thing even better than what he would try to conjure when he fucked himself in the bathroom at the memory of you.
He groans when he feels your hands roaming over his back, nails digging on the scarred skin.
"Someone's eager" he teases, seeing your damp underwear. "Is this 'cause of me?" you don't answer, too busy removing the cloth, only for his strong fingers to grab you and stop you. "Don't be shy, answer baby. We got a whole new year, yeah?"
"I need you Joel" you whine, not laughing at the joke "cut the crap"
He pushes you gently back down to the bed. "So needy sugar, want me to help ya'?"
You eagerly nod, making him laugh. But there's no mock, only love behind the sound.
"Will you let this old man take care of ya', pretty baby? Just use your words, and I'll be all y'rs"
"Do it, Joel. Just do it"
You gasp as your folds begin to be prodded open by the fat head of Joel's cock. You curse, feeling him push in just the tip, the sweet burn of your walls welcoming his size making you grab his arms that stand at the sides of your body, caging you in.
His tummy pushes against your stomach as he adjusts himself, his weight sinking your body on the creaking matress.
"'S just the tip, ready for the whole thing?"
You needed him, all of him.
"Yes, Joel. I want you" You say and he pushes in slowly, feeling his cock fill up every empty space that craved for him.
You squeeze your eyes shut as his hips roll back pulling out about halfway before rocking back in. His sloppy thrusts pick up a familiar pace that makes you moan and beg for more, head falling against the sheets as his pace speds up until he's fucking you senseless.
Joel's brain goes blank at the sight of you creaming on his dick and the obscene sounds leaving your pretty mouth. Did he really give this up? He'd definitely go back in time and slap the fuck out of his past self, because there is simply nothing better than having you under him, screaming his name like that's all you can ever say.
"Does he fuck you like this, huh?" Joel angles his hips, resuming his brutal pace. Your body jolts with each snap. "Is he enough for you?"
"Yes" his stomach drops, dark eyes now hesitant, "but he isn't you"
He pushes himself back in, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately.
"Tell me you'll leave him, y/n. Look me in the eyes and tell me who ya' really belong to"
Your eyes snap open at the possesiveness clashed with jealousy that drips from his sweat-soaked lips.
The confession falls easily, as meant to be. "Yours, Joel. Always was and will be"
He could cum just at the sight of your loving doe eyes.
Downstairs, the countdown begins, but in your room, all you can hear are his soft groans and your pathetic whimpers, and if the people would stop shouting, you could probably hear the squelch of your dripping cunt sucking in his girth with each thrust.
After a few more erratic thrusts, you feel his warm cum fill you up. Joel was always obsessed with how his cum seeped out of you and around his cock. Without thinking, his rough fingers push deep in you, making you yelp as he makes sure he isn't wasting a drop behind.
The countdown ends, and fireworks erupt outside as your head rests on the crook of his sweat covered neck.
"I love ya', sugar" those words you thought you imagined that one time, now real, so goddamn real his voice quivers and eyes get tearful with grief, "'S okay if ya' don't say it. I just wanted you to hear 'em. 'M just tired of wastin' my time"
He wraps your lips with his with tenderness you had only dreamed of. There is still a lot to talk and heal, but this time, his arms hold you like a promise. And you let yourself believe it.
Y/n's New Years' purposes: 1. Break up with Nick 2. Try to explain this seasonal mess to mom and dad 3. At last, try to be happy
#dilfistwrites#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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OH KATSUKI
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bakugou katsuki x f ! reader ᯓ★ 3.7k words. m—dni. roommates + university au / f/wb / toxic themes (slightly) / creamp!e (don’t be like them!) / bisexual katsuki / krbk open relationship / ex!sero / slight ooc / mentions of smoking & drinking / not proofread
an entry to my “ milk and cookies “ event with the prompt #5 “i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart.” this is my self request oops!
you just broke up with your ex, and your roommate’s boyfriend is miles away. having fun together shouldn’t be too bad, right?
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you’re sat by the kitchen counter. eating the reheated dinner your roommate left by the fridge. you just got home from a pretty rough night.
you’ve just broken up with your boyfriend, but that’s life. you’re sure he’s going to beg to get you back next week but it didn’t matter right now. the relationship was a mess and you were sure it wasn’t exactly love.
you hear a door open and you see your roommate getting out of the shower. “hey kats~” you say.
he places the towel on his shoulders heading over to you.
“you just got here? it’s interesting you’re actually home.” always sassy, but that’s why you liked him. it’s true, you’re rarely at home anyway. only there during exam season or at the morning. always outside at a party or with your boyfriend, now ex.
“yeah we broke up.” you say with a dry chuckle. he makes no response, instead goes to the fridge. “yikes. well that’s none of my business.” he says, not actually knowing how to comfort someone after hearing that.
the sad thing about your relationship ending was the constant sex. you were sure that was the only factor gluing you two together. he was a sweet guy, but you were sure getting your brains fucked out happened more than a proper date—and you’re sure he’s still got his ex flings on his contacts.
“you and eijirou are still dating right?”
“it’s an open relationship.” he mumbles, grabbing a glass to put water in. you’re kinda happy to know that though.
“hmm makes sense but, doesn’t it get lonely? i mean he’s in osaka and it’s a pity you’re not getting fucked while he’s gone.”
he scoffs, “who says i’m not getting fucked?”
“i know you’re home every night bringing no one over.” he shakes his head.
“tch. fuck off. what’s it to you?”
you didn’t know why you even thought of it. maybe you just wanted some type of comfort, or maybe you’re just an insatiable wreck. though nobody would blame you for finding the blonde attractive, if given the chance anyone would love to eat him up, you just wanted to know if he’d give you the privilege.
as for the ‘issue’ at hand, you didn’t cry after what happened. “let’s break up.” you repeat in your head from earlier. you didn’t know if you’re numbed from all emotion of romance but you always wanted something physical. exactly how your relationship with your ex started and now, you’ve broken up because he wasn’t being ‘a boyfriend.’
the breakup felt empty but it didn’t exactly hurt as you expected. it felt weird even. like a ‘so what now?’ feeling.
“then, let’s be fuck buddies.”
he flinches at your question. and even you were slightly surprised. still, you got it out.
“yeah right, like i could get it up for you.” though that’s a lie. he’s thought about it, once, twice. in the rare times you bring your ex over and he hears those muffled moans from the other side of your room through the wall— “come on kats. we could fuck when we’re free, how about it?”
“what even happened with that sero that you’re replacing him? or are you such a cockslut that anyone’s good?”
“we broke up so it’s fine. and i only offered to you.” he rolls his eyes and you laugh. “i’m serious! my door’s always unlocked anyway. if you wanna use your dick just come right in.”
“i’m serious, fuck off.”
you smile at him, getting excited that he’s glaring at you under the dim light of the kitchen.
“the fuck’s wrong with you today?” he thinks to himself.
you take your coat off and walk to your room. katsuki didn’t dare watch you walk away, however your suggestion lingered in his head.
you were probably drunk, you smell of alcohol and you’re not thinking properly. you were always nice to him, you were always sweet.
still, he finds himself texting his boyfriend to tell him what you just asked.
eijirou: hey baby it’s okay, you can fuck around with y/n i don’t mind at all.
he thinks about it.
you and katsuki weren’t too close to begin with. sharing this big condo with him was just for convenience. both of you were going to the same university, he needed a roommate and you needed a place.
you thought of him as a friend and he does confide in you every rare chance. eating dinner together, cooking for you while you clean the place. helping each other with some projects, not too deep not too shallow. he was a hot headed guy who’s in a ‘long distance relationship’ and sees his lover every six months. that’s mostly what he knew about you too, how you were always out with your ex boyfriend, how you were always on and off.
fuck buddies—you’re pretty, attractive, though sometimes unbearable but it’s not like you’re asking him for a relationship—like hell he’d break up with his lover for someone as crazy as you.
would it be so bad to have a bit of fun?
the next day you greet him like normal. wave at him in campus like normal, eat dinner with him like normal.
you’re giving him so much to think about and you’re acting like nothing happened and it’s slowly driving him insane.
he’s a man too, he’s got his own urges—exactly why eijirou suggested to keep the relationship open, as long as it’s purely for sex.
it’s been a while since he’s hooked up with someone either, and he’s not the type to really go out of his way just for it.
you did smell of alcohol when you brought it up, but you were the most straight forward person he knows. the biggest factor as to why he even let you be his roommate in the first place.
your offer was convenient. he knows you, you know him, he doesn’t have to drive too far cause you’re just there. your face is nice and he doesn’t mind at all.
“yeah…. i don’t mind.” he mumbles.
you didn’t think much of it the moment you turned your back on him. you didn’t want to be pushy, you didn’t like repeating questions either. so if him not acting on it is his answer then it’s fine.
“not going out tonight?” he asks breaking the silence. you tilt your head at him, “do you wanna go out? i don’t mind.” as if that’s his thing.
“nah just unlike you to be here is all.” you both were washing dishes. wiping the counter, cleaning around. bumping arms from time to time, it was silent, comfortable.
though you probably didn’t notice the slight bags under his eyes for keeping him up at night from your question.
“maybe not tonight.” he thinks.
nothing happened the next day, and the next. you’re acting too normal, only uncharacteristically staying more at your shared place with him. not going out with your friends, not drinking, though he sees you smoking at the balcony from time to time.
it was already late at night and he couldn’t sleep. you on the other hand is on the couch on your phone.
you’re fresh from a breakup, but it’s firm you just wanted to get off, no strings attached.
katsuki almosg felt pathetic from how much he’s overthinking this.
he reads a text from his boyfriend, making sure he wasn’t doing anything stupid at all.
eijirou: yes katsuki i told you i’m okay, i’m fine with it. i’d rather you be with y/n than some random too. don’t worry about it baby and just tell me what happens. <3
it almost hurt how casual it was but it shouldn’t—he’s in love with someone else. hooking up really wasn’t his thing, that’s why he rarely engages on it no matter how ‘needy’ he gets, and he’s not necessarily needy.
yet, somehow you’re getting him to be. you’re not even doing much but it’s like you’ve planted a ticking bomb in his head.
of course, he’s not gonna back down from such a good offer though.
he groans, getting out of his bed and walking over to where you were. his lover gave him an explicit yes. there shouldn’t be any issue now.
“hey kats~” you greet him, just like you did the other night. it’s sending shivers down his spine. “let’s do it.”
“huh?” you act dumb, knowing he actually agreed.
he clicks his tongue, “let’s fuck around.” impulsive but well thought.
you grin, sitting up properly to look at him from the couch. standing over you under such a dim light just like before. you didn’t think his presence would be so demanding like this. but he’s already wincing from your glare—almost crystal clear from the way you’re looking at him, how you’ve been wanting to eat him up.
you waste no time getting him seated on the couch, already on his lap while you start to grind on him.
you’re overwhelmingly assertive it’s so attractive. “how do you fuck with eijirou? tell me everything~”
his breath hitches when you start kissing his neck. getting sensitive when he feels your breath under his ears. “he tops.”
“that’s your preference? what about girls?”
“just a few times.” you hum. “usually oral or fingers. not often more than that.”
“kissing?”
“that’s the best part.” and you swore you almost swoon. you didn’t know katsuki could actually be cute.
he stops you for a bit, “are we really gonna fuck tonight?”
“well what do you want to do?”
he sighs, “just wanna feel you a bit.” you wait for him to make his move. you wonder what he'd do, what he likes.
“stick out your tongue.”
and so you do, moving your head to look at him with you tongue out. katsuki leans forward, taking the tip of your tongue in his mouth. his hands are already moving towards your chest.
katsuki fully takes your tongue in his mouth, sucking on it. you mewl against him—you never did that before.
katsuki pulls away to take off your shirt. “didn’t know you liked that.” you tell him.
“yeah? i like a lot of things.”
it was definitely like a reset on your part, almost like an awakening. seeing this new side of him, getting to understand and feel this way for the first time—katsuki was just so different from anyone you’ve ever been with, and from what you even imagined.
the cherry on top was seeing drool coming out of his lips. you should’ve just broken up with your ex sooner. and you’re so glad you never asked him to get into a threesome, that scumbag didn’t deserve to see someone as perfect as katsuki.
when your top’s finally off he takes a bit to look at them. “even your tits are pretty huh.”
this might’ve been the first time you’ve ever felt shy.
“take your shorts off for me.” you nod sliding them off slowly, making sure he sees every inch of skin that you’re revealing for him. katsuki can’t help but grin from excitement.
“thought you couldn’t get it up for me?” you say hovering over the bulge from his sweats. he rolls his eyes.
he holds onto your sides while you pull down the fabric along with your panties. his mouth’s slightly open when he finally sees your pretty cunt that’s shiny from the slick pooling. he chuckles, using two fingers to swipe between your folds, “you’re so fucking wet.” he says, moving his fingers up and down as strings of your slick stretched onto his fingertips.
you shudder when he stills on your clit. your move your hips, trying to get any stimulation from him. “too eager huh.”
he takes of his fingers causing you to whine. in a swift motion he carries you over to his room. “funny you chose yours.”
“don’t want plushie eyes watching me fuck you thinkin’ i’m their dad.” it’s cute that’s he’s trying to be funny.
"don't got a condom." he says as he lays you on the bed softly. wasting no time then to hover above you. "don't want you to use one." neither of you couldn't help but chuckle.
you're both just as needy.
“can you play with yourself for me?” his voice was raspy, breathy, almost needy. you’d prefer him touching you but him on top was enough to get your hands moving towards your clit. “yeah circle around it with your pretty fingers.”
you do exactly everything he tells you to. moving faster, slower. teasing your entrance while he pinched your nipples. he’s kissing the corners of your mouth while he asks you make yourself cum while he toys with you.
you never noticed the mirror on the top of his bed. you were rarely invited into his room, this is the longest you’ve been in there.
“what a fucking view.”
his back is so seductive, watching it move while you get off on your own fingers. the visual and the stimulation on your clit and his hot breath on your neck is getting you so sensitive—you’re almost there.
you’re almost shaking from how hot he’s being. “when are you gonna fuck me kats~” you’re already a mess doing this much. he’s stripping himself off his clothes and you’re getting so close the moment he’s flashing his happy trail.
katsuki hisses from hearing how wet you are, all for him. it’s just so different from what he’s used to.
“don’t wanna cum yet.” you say, slowing down your fingers. he pulls you towards him, maneuvering your body so that he’s on the bed.
you’re sat back on his lap, you bring your fingers covered in his slick towards his mouth which he takes in. sucking on them while he starts pumping his shaft. your breath hitches when you feel him moaning against them.
you wanna fuck him so bad.
he pulls away, lips now covered in more spit than earlier. katsuki’s getting messier each minute he’s so gorgeous to you.
“sit on it yourself.” firm and commanding, you’re sure him getting you to do the chores would be bad after this.
you replace his hand with yours, positioning the tip against your entrance. you’re surprise he even let you do this raw, someone so picky as him.
“f-fuck yeah…” he moans while he enters you. so slow yet so smooth, like a perfect fit. “i'm not gonna last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart.”
you elicit a long moan. you can feel him throbbing inside you, “fuck this is the best.” you hear him say.
you jolt when he pushes you down, back arching as your chest hits against his. you’re sure you could feel him so deep inside it’s driving you insane.
you’re panting, trying to catch your breath but he ignores you, gripping your hips to move you the way he wants, using you to get off like a fucking toy while you’re trying to get a hold on his shoulders. “said you wanted me to use my dick right? well aren’t you all bark.”
“your cock’s so f-fucking big!” bigger than your ex’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever fucked before.
you’re scared you could get addicted to this. you’re scared the moment you stop you’d ask for it every night.
“s-shit- katsuki-“ you couldn’t even look at him properly. you were so sure if you were eijirou you wouldn’t let him go. if you eijirou you would’ve been fucking him everyday.
he’s fucking you so good you’re tempted to ask him if you could be his second lover. you wonder would he be sweeter? more softer? would it be more intimate than this?
would he call you baby? what else would he do? would his hands touch you more tenderly?
he's handling you so well you're hoping this wouldn't be a one-time thing.
though underneath katsuki’s roughness is a man that’s easily stimulated. it’s sexy that your sweating, it’s sexy that your tits move while he bounced you on him. when he pulls on your tongue with his fingers when you ride him.
you sit back and show him your puffy clit, which he presses his thumb against, circling around the the sensitive bud. “you’re whimpering so much.”
maybe he’s getting carried away, wanting to invite you when eijirou comes for a visit. getting greedy thoughts getting you to ride him while he’s sucking off his boyfriend.
“h-hey focus on me.” you cup his cheeks with a pout.
he looks at you with half lidded eyes, removing any restraints he’s been suppressing for the past few minutes.
it’s getting so late and you’re still at it. you’re just that good. “you’re cute when you become a mess huh?”
his cock’s so big it’s still not letting up, even getting bigger with every thrust. both so focused in each other that he let his phone ring a few times before he picked it up.
“put it on speaker~” you whisper.
katsuki makes the swiping motion to answer the call, “sero.” he says.
he hisses when you clench on him tighter from hearing your ex’s name out of his mouth.
he’s always fucking ruining shit, but do you even care anymore?
you take his phone from him to place beside you. “honey~ i’m fucking katsuki~” you exclaim, wrapping your arms on his neck as you pulled him closer. katsuki looks at you with confusion, absolutely hates that you’re involving him in a feud he doesn’t care to be in.
then again, perhaps this whole ordeal got him involved automatically.
“y/n? w-what?” you hear sero’s voice break.
a new record, barely a week in and he’s getting katsuki to talk to you for him. "what a loser," you think.
you’re not interested in talking though. you've almost forgotten that your ex even existed the moment you got a taste of your roommate.
he tried to talk to you, call out to you it was so pathetic. saying how he misses you, if he could come over, only to be drowned out by your spews of, “oh katsuki,” or praises of the blonde's touch getting rougher each time your ex started to beg you to listen. it's almost bruising.
“you’re better than him.” katsuki’s sure he could hear sero’s heart break from the other side of the screen. his eyes were focused on the number of seconds of the call. only for it to end, knowing he’s given up.
he chuckles, “you broke him.” and yet he feels somehow prideful, an ego he didn’t know he had—how he’s fucking you while your shitty of an ex is struggling to get your attention, pitiful but exciting.
“nah he probably didn’t- hnngh~ get a shot with a girl that’s why he’s crawling back.”
“yeah? and i was sure he was fucking you good every time.” you yelp when katsuki changes positions. you’re now on your back again, watching him from the reflection of a mirror.
you’re such a mess, you didn’t even realized you cried.
“you made me want to fist my cock every night.” he says before thrusting back in. it was steady, hot, you’re sure you’re already melting as he picked up the pace. you didn’t know how much more you could take.
“your moans are always fucking hot.” he takes your legs to wrap it around him, “but it sounds better when it’s my name instead.”
you’re so close, he’s holding back so well. you’re probably the best fuck he’s ever had. “g-gonna cum-“ you weakly whisper.
his cock’s already twitching so much you could feel everything. “inside please- do it inside kats~” no matter how much you’re fucked out you still have it in you to tease him with that tone of yours.
it’s going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
as if it’s like a switch flips whenever you call out to him. how your tongue perfectly moves when you say his name, like you’re meant to.
yet you’re not his, and he’s not yours. you’re only just playing around, this was just to satisfy his urges and yours.
somehow, still, he didn’t want to let you go. and you’re the same.
he yelps when you pull his head down towards you, taking him in a sweet kiss. bucking your hips upwards to meet his as your movements turn more erratic.
cumming feels so much better when you’re kissing. all you could hear in the room was the sound of skin slapping against each other and your moans muffled from the kiss.
you grip onto him, clawing at his back and he didn’t care how much of a mark it left on him.
his thrusts become sloppier, quicker, and you feel your climax building up so fast. the knot in your chest becomes so tight.
“mmhh~” he moans loudly against you, pushing one last thrust before spilling inside, just as you asked him to. and you’re crying, feeling so full of him that you still wanted a bit more.
he whimpers while you tried to continue his movements, almost overstimulating him. katsuki pulls out and lays beside you. only to pull you close to him he plays with your pussy.
“look at yourself in the reflection for me. watch me play with your pussy.” broken breathy moans come from your lips as you bury your head further onto his chest. his other hand’s on your chin, motioning over your head to the top mirror. "such a fucking mess we made huh?"
you’re both sweaty, tired, yet he’s fucking you with his fingers relentlessly just to give you that climax you’ve given him so graciously.
“c-cumming~ katsuki~ 'm c-cumming!” it’s almost embarrassing how loud your cunt is.
that tight little knot in your stomach come undone, shouting his name one last time, your body twitching on top of his as you calm down.
“holy shit that was so hot.” you exclaim in between heavy breaths. "you liked it?" he asks you and you nod.
“then tomorrow.” huh? “i’ll fuck you even better tomorrow.”
“hah...” you breath out, laying on your chest on his to plant a kiss to his lips. “then we should let your boyfriend watch too~ to return the favor.”
“shut up.” maybe he’s gotten greedy for sure. he doesn’t even want to share you with his own lover after this.
can’t tomorrow come any faster?
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do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
#bnha smut#mha smut#bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki smut#katsuki bakugou smut#bakugo smut#my hero academia smut#katsuki bakugo smut#bakugo katsuki smut#katsuki smut#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo x reader#ᦾִ❤︎ by cola#milk&cookies
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Midnight Blue
BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER SMUT
summary: Bucky hated you in many different ways, and tonight was no exception. tw; smut, choking, dom!bucky.
Despite Bucky's reputation of being big, bad, and dangerous, there is yet to be a time he ever scared you. Even now, where he was in the very building somewhere to kill you, you knew his only weakness — he couldn't sneak around.
It's not surprising when you think about it. With his death stare and metallic arms, anybody would spot him coming from a mile away. You just have to make sure you're faster than him, which happened to be your specialty. Being a thief for the last few years taught you everything there is to know about blending in with the shadows.
Which was a shame, you thought, because I look nice today.
You did look nice. You were currently in a gala for some valiant cause or other, hosted by some rich businessman you hadn't bothered to catch the name of. You had on your midnight blue gown, embedded with pearls that reflected off the champagne glasses and Rolex watches.
"Excuse me," one of the attendees said, tapping your shoulder. "Are you Miss Malley?"
"No," you smiled broadly, knowing the guy was about to hit on you any second.
"Oh, my mistake." He had a sheepish grin. "I'm Shane. Can I buy you a drink?"
"The drinks are free," you said, grinning right back.
"I know."
"Aren't you busy trying to find Miss Malley?"
"Who?" The smile hadn't worn off.
This particularly uninteresting conversation was cut short by sudden silence at the gala. The foolish sack of a man had diverted your attention just enough that you saw a metallic death stare at the end of the gala — a stare that seemed just for your particular demise.
Don't panic, you thought, staring right back. He wouldn't dare hurt you with this many people present. Even then, he was making his way towards you. You moved away, silent as a ghost.
With each turn of crowd, you realized you might quite possibly be stuck. Bucky had brought in reinforcement ranging from Natasha Romanoff to Captain America, all of them in regal formal attire and in different corners. No one except Bucky had spotted you, possibly because he was the only person who actually had a personal vendetta against you.
Get out, your brain said clearly. Get out before they bring you to Stark. You had enough beef with that man to last for a lifetime.
You grimaced, then looked for the exit. Not the one that the attendees use, no, that would be too easy. You headed for the staff exit, the one behind the kitchen.
---------------
Half an hour later, you were walking through the dark alley, your heels clinking against the pavement. You were exhausted from all the walk, but you were used to this dance by now. Move until the target is off your back. That's how it's always been.
You wondered if you'd ever get tired of the steps.
Someone whistled. You turned to see a man around his late 40s, clearly drunk out of his mind.
"How much for the night, sweetie?"
You squinted. He looked harmless enough. You kept on walking, ignoring his continuous calls behind your back.
"Don't be like that! What, I'm not young enough for you? I thought your kind took money from anyone with a dick!"
You had half a mind to punch him in the face with the hidden knife.
No, walk on. Last thing you need is a corpse on the street.
A second passed, then two. The man's immediate silence ticked off your senses. You turned around to see him on the floor, unconscious. Somehow, it did not look like it was the alcohol that took him out.
You were almost impressed when a knife appeared at your throat from behind.
"You're getting better at sneaking around," you said proudly. "You didn't have to knock him out though. Chap was not laying a hand on me."
"Shut the fuck up." Bucky's raspy voice sent a jolt of adrenaline down your spine. His anger was controlled, but you still could hear it.
"Your wish." You stepped on his shoes. He let out a pang of hurt, not expecting your heels to feel that sharp.
One moment of distraction, that's what cost him. You whipped your gun and faced him, smile on your face.
"How did you find me?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"That hardly matters." He put his hand out, grabbing the gun, or trying to anyways. You stepped out of the way just in time and he grunted.
"You need to loosen up. Like the night we did the Catherbury mission, remember?"
That only seemed to rile him up more. You didn't think he even cared that much about the fact that you were in Avengers a good deal of time before you sneaked into Stark's office, got his card, stole a great deal of gadgets and sold them off the black market. You didn't think he even cared you were the biggest thief in the city, one that fooled even the avengers.
His vendatta against you was personal, because he considered you his friend. The cold, cruel Bucky was duped for the world to see.
"I really think we should sit down and talk," you said, the gun still held high. "Everything I did was business Bucky, stop taking it so personally."
Bucky's face showed just a tinge of hurt, but then he hurled — no weapons, no hesitation. Just full-on pounced on you, and your back hit the wall.
"If everything wasn't so fucking personal, shoot me," he practically spat out those words.
You realized you hadn't even thought of using the gun that lay hanging lifeless from your hands. You tried to grip it, but Bucky pushed his hand on top of it, bending the metal seamlessly in a way it was upside down. You let it go and tried to move.
Bucky clapped his hands on the wall on either side of your head. His eyes were smeared with charcoal and he smelt like musky cologne.
"Where's your disappearing act now?" he whispered, making you feel all sorts of things.
"Let me go," you said, gritting your teeth. God, he was standing too close.
He bent his head down and brought his lips near your ears.
"You've no clue how long I wanted to have you like this," he said, making your heart skip a beat. "Unescapable, vulnerable, scared."
"I'm not scared."
"You should be." He put his hand — the non-metallic one — over your throat. His touch was gentle, but the message was clear; he could kill you in a touch.
Though it didn't help that you liked it a little too much.
"How did you find me?" you asked again, calmly.
"Shane is my friend. He put a GPS tracker on you. I knew you'd run so all I had to do was wait."
You were impressed yet again.
"How did Shane find me? I was blending in the crowd well."
Bucky's eyes shone brighter. "You weren't going to blend in with a dress that beautiful," he stopped, removing his hand. It was as if he just realized how close he actually was to you. His eyes slid down to your lips just a second. His hands started lowering from the wall to your waist.
Then his lips were on yours, and you could have sworn he put all his anger into it. One kiss and he was prying your lips open, making out with you in that dark alley with a knocked out man five feet away.
"James," you whined between kisses, pulling him closer. The moans did things to his brain. He slid his hands through the slit of your dress, grabbing your thigh with a force that had you unnerved.
"Can I—"
"Yes."
He closed your mouth with his other hand. "No, listen to me first. I want you to mean it. Completely. Because I don't know the things I'll do to you when you say yes."
In response, you took his hand from your thighs and slid them higher, right into your panties. You pressed your body against his and you could feel him being hard.
"I hate you," he said curtly, then picked you up with effortless strength. Two minutes and you were in a secluded part of the alley, and he was setting you down on an old bench. He bent down, keeping eye contact with you all the while.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck. You moaned, but didn't move. He dragged your lips from your collarbones to the edge of your neckline, and pulled the dress down.
Without waiting a beat, he took off your bra and kissed your nipples.
"Bucky," you whined, and all he did was bite down harder. He let his hand drag down and pushed two fingers right into your pussy. The pain was immediate and pleasurable. His pace was slow and you started grinding on his fingers for more friction.
"Shush," he said, taking off his fingers and setting you up straight. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?"
"Yes," you said, moving in for a kiss. He turned his head away.
"Beg."
"Fuck me Bucky, please." You moved your hand to his pants, and he looked like he might lose all control. A few seconds of unbuckling and he took you in his arms, pressing you down to the bench and spread your legs wide.
You were wet already, and the sight of his big, hard cock hadn't helped. You were dripping down your panties.
"Beg," he said again, taking off your panties and throwing them away.
"Please fuck me, James, fuck—" you gasped when he thrust his dick in you. A moment of holding onto his hand and he was fucking you like you were his. He leaned over and bit down on your neck. A kiss and a few sucking and you knew that was going to leave a mark.
You didn't care. You were being dicked out of your soul and you were taking every second of it.
Then it stopped. He pulled away from you, his dick still hard. You were confused to see that big smile on his face, even more so when he started zipping his pants.
"You left me three months ago," he said, straightening his hair. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Next time you think of me, I want you to think of me fucking you like you're my bitch. How having my hands on your throat was enough to make you wet."
Revenge. That's what it was?
"You wanted to fuck me to make me regret lying to you?" you asked breathlessly, feeling ashamed that it already worked.
Bucky smiled. "I wanted to fuck you for a whole lot reasons Y/N, but I also want you to knock on my door and apologize, preferably on your knees and begging. On all fours. I'd sacrifice the rest of the night to see that."
He pulled you up and put the dress on tidily. "Goodbye. And, you really do look beautiful."
Motherfucker, you thought to yourself as he left.
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commissions info
kofi
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky smut#bucky barnes x you#sebastian stan#marvels#x reader#female reader#reader insert#bucky x you
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sweetener
bucky barnes x reader
summary: when the vacation that you've been planning for months gets canceled due to a last minute mission, you can't help but feel bummed - the bright side is that you're being sent on a mission with bucky.
word count: 5.3k - my masterlist
warnings/tags: canon level violence, descriptions of injuries, mention of blood, almost drowning, hospital setting, bad guys getting killed (not descriptive), non-sexual nudity, hurt/comfort trope, avenger!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, language, reader pov, no use of y/n, fem reader, bucky being super soft, not explicit but mdni please
when life deals us cards
make everything taste like it is salt
then you come through like the sweetener you are
to bring the bitter taste to a halt
Hand warmers. Flashlight and extra batteries. Can opener. Matches. First aid kit –
You glance down the handwritten list for the dozenth time that morning, checking and rechecking that you aren't forgetting anything obvious.
Your eyes flicker between the ridiculous amount of supplies scattered across your bed and the three large duffle bags on your floor that you're determined to pack it all into. You know that you are most likely being excessive, but you'd much rather be too thorough than not thorough enough when you're about to be miles deep in the Appalachian wilderness.
Sure, you'd be staying at a relatively civilized campground with restrooms and showers, but this is the first time that you've been camping in years, and your first time ever going camping alone.
A two day road trip there, then six days in the Great Smoky Mountains, and then another two day road trip back to upstate New York.
A much needed ten days of time spent by yourself, seeing as how you haven't gone on anything resembling a vacation in over two years. The last couple years have been nonstop work with very little time for relaxation.
To say that you're excited would be an understatement. Although you find immense fulfillment in the work that you do with the Avengers and can't see yourself doing anything else, you're ready to sit by a warm fire and sleep under the stars without a care in the world.
Just as you've finished packing the second bag and are about to begin on the third, the Bluetooth speaker that your cell phone is paired to begins blasting your ringtone, cutting off the music that you'd been listening to while you pack.
When you grab the phone off of your nightstand and see the name Nick Fury displayed across the screen, a ball of unease immediately forms in the pit of your stomach.
Nick Fury isn't the type to call and chit chat about how your day is going or what shows you've been binge watching. He's the type to call when he wants something done, and wants it done now.
“Hey, Fury,” you greet in a neutral tone as you perch on the edge of your bed. With the phone still connected to your speaker, you place it back down on the nightstand so that you are free to wring your hands together.
“Agent,” Fury's voice booms throughout your room. “I hope I've caught you before you've left the state of New York.”
Godfuckingdammit.
“Uh - yep. I'm still here. Packing up for my trip right now,” you answer, trying your hardest to conceal the irritation in your voice. There's a small voice in the back of your head telling you that you should just lie and say you are already on the road, but you're not stupid enough to lie to Nick Fury.
There's a second, louder voice in the back of your mind screaming at you that you shouldn’t have even answered the phone.
“You know I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm going to suggest you pack a tactical suit and weapon of choice instead of hiking boots and a sleeping bag. We just got word that a vibranium weapons dealer we've been tracking will be receiving a large shipment at a port in Destin tomorrow night. Need you and Barnes on a flight to Florida this afternoon.”
“Florida?” you repeat, unable to hide the shock and disappointment in your tone. “I can't go to Florida right now. I've been planning this trip for months. I put in the notice for my leave–”
“I realize that this is unfortunate timing but I'm afraid that this is non-negotiable, Agent,” he interrupts you in a tone of finality. “If we don't intercept this shipment then these weapons fall into very dangerous hands. With Romanoff and Rogers still in San Antonio until next week, I have no choice but to ask you and Barnes to handle it.”
You exhale an audible, frustrated breath and massage the heels of your palms into your eye sockets. You don't know why you're surprised. It's not like illegal arms dealers take your vacation time into consideration when they plot their dealings.
“Is that understood, Agent?” he asks when you don't respond.
“Yes,” you say as you dig your nails into the flesh of your palm to hold back any further argument. “Yes, I understand.”
“Great. The jet leaves in three hours.”
The line cuts off before you can get another word out.
You groan out loud. Three hours. That doesn't even leave you enough time to feel sorry for yourself.
You look around at the chaotic state of your room before your gaze lands on the already packed duffle bags filled with camping supplies.
You're too annoyed and short on time to care right now, so you empty the contents of both bags back onto your bed and tell yourself that you'll deal with the mess when you get back home. For now, you need to focus on packing the appropriate items for taking down a vibranium arms dealer in hotass Florida.
Beneath all of the disappointment and frustration, there's a glimmer of relief that at the very least it's Bucky who you're being sent on this unexpected mission with. You may not be fond of hot weather, but you are quite fond of him.
••••••
Just as Fury said, the jet departs from the compound at exactly three o'clock. You sit in the aircraft's cabin, reading through a thick file containing all of the information that SHIELD has compiled on Dmitri Petrov's crime empire, ranging from drug smuggling to illegal arms deals.
You are only a few pages into the report and it's abundantly clear why this mission was non-negotiable. Petrov has been getting away unscatched for years - tomorrow night will be the first clear opportunity for a take down since getting on SHIELD's radar.
“Coffee?” A voice snaps you back to reality, making you realize that you're reading the same sentence for the dozenth time. “Three creams, two sugars.”
You look up to find a vibranium hand holding out a disposable cup to you. If the fact that he's committed the way you take your coffee to memory isn't enough to increase your heart rate, his smirk and the crinkles around his blue eyes do the trick.
“Thank you,” you tell him, snapping the folder shut on the table in front of you. “My eyes are on the verge of bleeding.” You take a sip of the coffee - indeed, three creams and two sugars.
He takes the seat directly across from you, spinning the folder around for him to flip through himself.
“We land in less than half an hour and you've been reading this the entire flight,” he says teasingly as he thumbs through the pages. “I think it's safe to say you're prepared.”
He places the file back down, returning his attention to you.
“Just trying to get myself in the right headspace. I didn't know anything about this operation until a few hours ago, you know.”
Not one to complain, you had yet to bring up the fact that your trip had been postponed in order for you to be here. You had talked about the trip on several occasions with Bucky, but you didn't expect him to remember the exact dates that you were supposed to be gone.
Sure - if he was going to be away for over a week, you'd be hyper aware of it until he returned - but you weren't naive enough to think that he would know the exact dates of your comings and goings.
“I know,” he sighs, a sympathetic look on his face. “I was on my way to tell you to have a good trip and to be safe when I got the call from Fury this morning.”
Oh. Your cheeks heat at the casual admission from him.
“I'm sorry about your trip. I know you were really looking forward to it,” he adds sincerely. “I'm going to find extra enjoyment in putting Dmitri Petrov behind bars for causing it to get canceled.”
“You and me both,” you chuckle. “Really though, it's okay. I was bummed, but it's not the end of the world. It can easily be rescheduled once this guy is locked up and we're back home.”
You don't add the fact that you find yourself caring less and less about the canceled trip the longer that you sit here with him.
“There is at least one silver lining to this, you know,” he chimes, leaning forward with his elbows on the table between you. You instinctively lean in closer too, causing the side of your leg to brush against his beneath the table. You wait to see if he'll pull away, and when he doesn't, you leave the side of your thigh resting against his.
“Oh, yeah? And what's that?”
“Petrov’s shipment isn't set to arrive until tomorrow night, and they've sent us down here the day prior. It's not like we have to stay holed up in our hotel room for the next twenty-four hours, right?”
••••••
Bucky's right - there's no sense in locking yourselves inside the hotel room until the time of the weapons deal tomorrow evening, but when you see the hotel room that you'll be spending the next couple nights in, you think you would also be okay with staying inside if you had to.
It's not a five star resort by any means, but in comparison to the dingy roadside motels that you're normally stuck in for missions? This place might as well be a Four Seasons.
It's relatively small, but there's more than enough space for the two of you. There's one full size bed, plus a couch that converts to a futon mattress - the latter of which Bucky insists on taking, giving you the bed. The bathroom is nearly as big as the main room, with a jacuzzi tub that's bigger than three standard bathtubs put together.
And the best part of it? When you open the curtains to the sliding glass door on the backside of the room, there's a clear view of turquoise water and white sand.
“I guess Fury felt a little bad about springing this on me at the last minute, after all,” you sigh as you pull the door open, letting the light breeze pull the smell of saltwater into the room. “Can't say that I’ve been given a beachfront room for a mission before.”
Bucky walks up to stand beside you, leaning against the doorframe and staring out to the ocean.
“It's definitely a step up from the rat and roach infested Motel 6 that Sam and I had to spend three nights in when we were sent to Atlanta for recon last month.”
You shake your head, both cringing and laughing at the memory of him ranting about the motel room as soon as he saw you after returning home.
“It was the size of a fucking capybara. Why are you laughing? I opened the bathroom door and it charged at me–”
A sudden deep rumbling noise snaps you out of the memory and you glance down at your stomach in surprise. You suppose it makes sense that your body is screaming at you to eat - you had such little time to pack for Destin before your flight left that you hadn't even bothered with lunch today.
“How does pizza sound?” Bucky asks with a knowing smirk. “I saw a pizza place just down the street on the way here.”
“Anything sounds good right now,” you sigh, both starving and exhausted from your day of packing, unpacking, re-packing and traveling.
“I'll go grab one for us,” he tells you, pulling the keys to the rental car out of his pocket. “Just stay here and get settled in.”
You don't object, itching to change into comfier, more weather appropriate clothes. When you left the state of New York just a few hours ago, it was chilly outside. Now that you are in eighty plus degree Destin, the sweater and boots that you're wearing have got to go.
You unpack your bag, thankful that you had brought a pair of casual drawstring shorts. You throw them on, along with a tank top. You decide to go ahead and convert the futon from a sofa into a bed, and then search through the hotel room's small linen closet for a set of sheets and a quilt. If Bucky insists on you taking the comfier sleeping option and going to get food for the two of you, you figure the least you can do is make his bed for him.
When he returns, he not only has a large cardboard box containing the pizza, but a plastic bag hanging from his vibranium arm as well.
“Grab a towel and follow me,” he tells you before he's even closed the door behind him.
“Follow you?” You laugh, taken aback by the instructions. “Where are we going?”
You hop up from where you'd been mindlessly scrolling on your phone on the bed, doing as he asked and grabbing one of the complementary beach towels from the bathroom closet.
“Not staying holed up in our hotel room. Remember?”
And with that he pulls the sliding glass door open with his empty hand and exits the room, heading towards the beach that sits directly in the backyard. You don't even take the time to throw on a pair of tennis shoes before practically running after him through the sand.
He comes to a stop when he's a few yards away from where the waves wash up against shore and turns back to look at you. You take it as your cue to spread the towel across the sand at your feet.
He sits down and you follow, the cardboard box nestled between you. He opens it, revealing a pizza that is split down the middle - half your favorite, half his favorite.
“I know it's not a campfire in the Great Smoky Mountains,” he smirks. He digs into the plastic bag and pulls out a drink for each of you, along with some napkins. “But it's the best I could do in our current situation.”
The sentiment leaves you momentarily speechless. You know it isn't a grand declaration of love, and it might not mean as much to some people as it does to you - but you can't remember the last time someone went out of their way just to improve your day in such a simple yet thoughtful way.
Between the pizza, the vibrant pink and purple sky as the sun sinks beyond the ocean's horizon, the sound of the waves and him beside you, you wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now.
“No,” you murmur. “It's not. But it's perfect.”
••••••
The next day, you manage to forget that you're actually on a super important mission taking down a dangerous illegal arms dealer.
The first half of the day feels like an actual vacation - the closest thing you've had to a vacation in a long time, anyway. You sleep in until nearly ten o'clock in the morning - which may not be considered sleeping in for some people, but in this line of work, you've overslept if you're still in bed at eight am.
After waking up thoroughly rested and refreshed, the two of you get brunch and then spend the early hours of the afternoon leisurely strolling at the boardwalk just a short drive from your hotel.
You and Bucky are sitting on a bench eating ice cream when you check your phone for the first time in hours and realize how quickly the day has gone. It's already four o'clock - you're due to be on lookout at the pier where Petrov's exchange will occur soon.
“What's wrong?” Bucky asks when you huff under your breath as you stick your phone back into your pocket. “Nervous about tonight?”
You're not nervous, truthfully. You're fully confident that you and Bucky will be able to handle the job. You've been on countless missions less straight forward than this before, and so has he.
“No,” you shake your head as you take another bite of your ice cream cone. “It's… silly,” you say, waving your hand in dismissal.
“I'm sure it's not silly,” he assures you gently.
You pause, staring at a couple holding hands in the distance as you contemplate your words.
Bucky seems to follow your gaze.
“Today has just been really nice,” you shrug with a small smile. “I almost don't want to go back home.”
From your peripheral vision, you see his face shift to look at you. You continue to eat your ice cream, pretending that his stare doesn't warm you more than the Florida sun.
“We're on the same page then, doll.”
••••••
A few hours later, a feeder ship pulls up to the pier just after dusk.
“We've got eyes on three men,” you say lowly into your communication device. “They're guarding the pier. No sign of Petrov yet.”
“He'll show,” Fury's voice echoes in your ear. “Keep watch until then. Backup is on standby to take him in.” The comm clicks off before you can respond.
“I know there's a lot riding on this going smoothly,” you grumble as you bring your binoculars back up to your eyes. “But sometimes I think he just really needs to get laid.”
You and Bucky are across the road from the pier, concealed by large shrubs and the darkness of the night sky. You've been sitting here as still and silently as possible for well over an hour, before Petrov's men had even arrived to stand guard at the dock.
You really fucking have to pee.
Headlights begin to approach from down the street, and as the vehicle gets closer you're able to see that it's a large, black van.
Totally not suspicious at all.
It comes to a stop close to the boat dock, and a second later Petrov hops out of the driver's seat. You recognize him right away by his shrimpy build and receding hairline.
“I should just take them all out from here and be done with this,” Bucky grumbles from beside you.
“I agree,” you sigh. “But Fury's adamant that Petrov be brought in alive if possible. He’s got an empire behind him that we need to find out as much as possible about. His men, however..” you trail off.
Bucky looks through the scope of his gun, zeroing in on one of the guards.
“Blow a tire on the van first,” you murmur. “So Petrov can't flee.”
“I'll take out these three guards, and then I'll get Petrov and call for back-up. You worry about getting to that ship and taking out anyone inside. Sound like a plan?”
“Easy peasy,” you agree.
Less than thirty seconds later, all three guards have dropped dead and Petrov is frantically running to his van, unaware that Bucky had shot the back tire after killing his guards. You and Bucky emerge from the shrubs, sprinting across the road. He dashes towards Petrov, who freezes and begins shouting curses in Russian when he sees what is running towards him.
Bucky lands a punch to Petrov's jaw as you're running past them, only slowing down enough to not trip over the guard’s dead bodies that are littered across the dock.
You're only a few yards away from the ship when you hear Bucky screech your name. You immediately come to a halt, turning back to see why he could be calling for you.
You see a tall, burly man - someone that you and Bucky hadn't noticed before - sprinting down the dock after you. He raises his arm above his head, his hand holding a rocklike object that he sends barreling in your direction.
It's the last thing you see before everything fades to black.
••••••
The shrill, repetitive beeping of a monitor pulls you out of limbo and back to earth.
You're met with painfully bright, fluorescent lighting that has you squinting your eyes shut before you can make sense of your surroundings.
“Bucky,” you attempt to call out but it sounds like the croak of a lifelong smoker. Your eyes begin to adjust to the harsh lighting, allowing you to see that you're alone in a hospital room. You raise your fingertips to where it feels as if your brain is pulsing through your skull. There's a thick, defined knot on the top of your head that's sensitive to the touch.
Panic starts to take over you. Bits and pieces of the mission start to flash through your mind. Bucky shooting the guards, you running towards the feeder ship when you heard Bucky yell your name and then turning to see –
“Bucky!” You call out louder, your voice still hoarse. You sit up, not hesitating to carelessly yank an IV out of your arm. You're vaguely aware of the fact that you're in only a hospital gown and that blood is now trickling down your left arm, but you don't care.
You throw your legs over the side of the bed, standing up far too quickly. Your vision fades to a fuzzy gray and you're overcome with an intense wave of vertigo as the room spins around you. You grab onto the metal side railing of the hospital bed to keep yourself upright, desperately trying to focus your eyes enough to find the nurse's call button.
“Hi! I'll be to your room in just a moment–” An overly cheerful, feminine voice pours from the speaker a moment after pressing the button.
“What happened? How long have I been here? Where is my–”
The door to your room opens, and you immediately breathe an audible sigh of relief as your last question is answered. He looks as though he could use a good night's sleep, but he is okay.
“What the fuck happened?” Bucky exclaims as he rushes over to where you're still clutching the hospital bed railing for support. You follow his gaze to your arm, seeing that there's now blood all over your gown as well as the white floor around your feet.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you mumble, embarrassed by your current state. He guides you back to the edge of the mattress before walking away to get a towel from the bathroom. “I was worried something happened to you,” you add weakly.
He wipes the blood trail on your skin before using the hand towel to apply pressure to the puncture in the bend of your arm.
“I'm okay,” he assures you delicately. “I had just gone to get some coffee.” He glances at the styrofoam to-go cup that you hadn't even noticed him place on the bedside table when he entered the room.
“How long was I asleep?” You ask, noticing that it's still pitch dark outside. You also notice that he's no longer in the clothes that he wore on the mission - now wearing a pair of loose fitting black sweatpants and a matching hoodie. “What happened?”
“There was another guy in the back of Petrov’s van,” Bucky tenses, still holding the towel to your arm for you. “We were both distracted and he snuck up on you. He hit you over the head with a piece of vibranium and threw you into the water.” His jaw clenches as he recounts what happened, meeting your gaze with a pained look.
“But you saved me,” you finish for him.
“Yes,” he gulps. “I did. But I was almost too late. By the time I knocked out Petrov and killed the man who hit you.. it felt like it took forever to find you in the water. You almost drown–”
He cuts himself off, unable to force the last word out. A nurse enters the room as you open your mouth to offer him reassurance. Bucky holds your gaze for a split-second longer before reluctantly dropping his hold on your arm and turning to take a seat in the room's singular guest chair.
The nurse informs you that they did a CT scan while you were unconscious, and that while you don't have any swelling or bleeding on your brain from the blow, the doctor believes you to have a concussion and tells you that she will need to do an exam now that you are awake before they feel comfortable discharging you.
Judging by the high-pitched ringing that you've heard in your ears since you woke up and the way that you feel dizzy when you even think about trying to stand up, you don't doubt that you're concussed.
An hour later, you've been thoroughly examined and it is confirmed that yes - you are indeed concussed. The doctor discharges you under the condition that you don't drive and that someone keeps a close eye on you for the next twenty-four hours.
“Don't worry,” you hear Bucky tell her when you step into the bathroom to throw on a pair of dry sweatpants, a t-shirt, and cheap shower slides that the hospital had given you to wear back to the hotel, seeing as how your tactical suit and boots are still sopping wet with ocean water. “I'm not letting her out of my sight.”
The nurse who helps you dress gives you a small smirk at his words.
“You're a lucky woman,” she tells you quietly. “He was worried sick until you woke up.”
You avoid her gaze, your cheeks heating. You busy yourself by tightening the drawstrings to the gray sweatpants.
“I am lucky,” you agree. “He's a great partner.”
She raises an eyebrow at the word partner, but doesn't make any further comment.
By the time that you and Bucky make it back to your hotel room, the sun has started to rise.
Bucky all but carries you inside, only letting go of you when you're perched on the edge of the mattress. Your head is still throbbing despite the extra strength ibuprofen that you'd taken before leaving the hospital, and you still can't walk without stumbling from dizziness, but at least the intense ringing in your ears has begun to subside.
You feel tired down to your very bones, but you have no doubt that Bucky is even more exhausted. You'd been unconscious for nearly eight hours during the night, whereas he had been awake the entire time sitting by your bedside.
“You get some rest,” you tell him. You brace your hands against the mattress, preparing to attempt to stand back up. “I smell like a mixture of sweat and fish from being in the ocean, so I'm going to shower off.”
You push yourself off of the bed, and as quickly as you stand, you're sitting back down. The room immediately begins spinning in circles around you, sending a wave of nausea through the pit of your stomach.
“Yeah, not likely,” Bucky huffs lightly. “You can't stand up, and the shower doesn't have a seat. How about we compromise on a bath?”
You give a weak nod, too tired to protest. A warm bath sounds incredible right now.
Bucky retreats to the bathroom, where he turns on the water to fill the tub before returning to help you get up from the bed without toppling over. He secures his flesh arm around your waist and guides you to the closed toilet, where you carefully sit down.
“Do you.. need help undressing? Or..?” He asks hesitantly.
“No,” you breathe with an awkward laugh. “I think I've got it.”
He gives you a quick nod, looking away to give you the privacy to shed your clothes. You carefully tug the oversized t-shirt the hospital had given you over your head, wincing when it brushes against the swollen knot on the side of your scalp. You rise off the lid of the toilet just enough to push your sweatpants down to your ankles.
“Okay,” you murmur, letting him know that you're ready to step into the tub.
He grabs one of your hands in his, and places his metal hand on the small of your back as you step over the side of the large jacuzzi tub and into the water.
Not that you don't trust your other teammates. But with Bucky, it doesn't feel vulnerable.
You're aware of the intimacy of the scenario, but you can't find it in yourself to feel insecure or embarrassed right now - you're sure that's largely due to the concussion, but you think it's also simply because of who you're with.
If it were Sam, or Steve, or anyone else, you know you'd be mortified to be utterly exposed as they help you take a bath. If it were anyone else you wouldn't be taking a bath right now - you would have just gone to sleep and waited until you could fully do it yourself instead of putting yourself in such a vulnerable position.
He lowers you into the water, your entire body instantly relaxing at the warmth. You glance to his face, noticing a faint purple bruise along his cheekbone.
“I'm going to leave the door cracked. I'll be right outside if you need anything. Just let me know when you're ready to get out, okay?”
You don't respond, instead reaching up to his face, where you run your finger along the outline of the bruise. He freezes beneath your touch, his eyes meeting yours.
“Don't worry,” he assures you softly. “It was a lot worse when it first happened. It's already almost gone.”
“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “It happened because of me. I wasn't paying attention as well as I should have been. Should have heard that guy coming.”
“Don't say that.” He places his flesh hand on top of where yours still rests against his cheek and then brings it in front of his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. “You're okay, and that's the only thing that matters now.”
“Mmm,” you hum, staring at his lips that are no more than an inch away from your hand.
“What are you thinking?” he asks, his voice patient and curious.
You hesitate for a brief moment before leaning forward and pressing your lips to the bruise in a featherlight kiss. You pull back, once more resting your back against the tub and giving him a small shrug.
“Just thinking that I wanted to do that. Have for a while.”
He grins, a faint blush taking over the apples of his cheeks.
“Yeah, I'd say you're definitely concussed.”
He then presses his lips to the side of your hand, causing goosebumps to form across your skin despite the warm water that you sit in.
You chuckle, your smile matching his. “I am,” you agree. “But the concussion will go away soon, and I'll still want to kiss you then, too.”
“I hope that you will do just that.”
••••••
One month later
You wake up to the smell of campfire smoke that creeps through the crack in the partially zipped tent.
Despite a thick sleeping bag, multiple blankets, and the plush sweater that you wear, you can't help but shiver.
Something is missing.
You look around the tent, your eyes adjusting to the early morning daylight that filters into the tent.
Someone is missing.
You reluctantly exit your cozy sleeping bag, shoving your wool sock covered feet into your boots and crawling out of the tent.
Bucky is facing away from you, cracking an egg into a pan that is positioned over the fire.
“Good morning,” you murmur as you creep up behind him, wrapping an arm around his midsection. He wraps his own arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Morning, sleepy head,” he teases softly. “What's on the agenda today?”
“Maybe some hiking, maybe some biking,” you shrug into him. “Maybe a little bit of you keeping me warm in that tent.”
He laughs, more carefree than you've ever seen him before.
“See? It's a good thing that your trip got postponed. What if I wasn't here to keep you warm?”
You raise up to capture his lips in yours, the taste of fresh brewed French press coffee on his breath.
“Remind me to thank Fury for that when we get back.”
thank you so much for reading 💕🫶🏻 comments and reblogs are infinitely appreciated!!
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#fluff
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"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]
one shot
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> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.
> pairing: jungkook x reader
> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)
> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)
> word count: 2.8k
*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!
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Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone at his parent’s house. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.
Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.
Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.
“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.
Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.
“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.
Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.
“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.
As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.
“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”
“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”
“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”
“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”
“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.
“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”
Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.
“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.
“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.
His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.
“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.
“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.
“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.
“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.
You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.
“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.
You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.
“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”
“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.
Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.
“Hm, you?”
“Hm.”
You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.
“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.
“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.
“I’m Y/N,” you say.
“Jungkook,” he replies.
“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.
“I came with some friends.”
“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”
“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”
Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.
“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”
“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.
You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.
You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.
After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.
“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?
Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.
“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.
He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.
“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.
“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”
“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.
“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.
“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.
“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.
“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.
“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.
Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.
“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.
“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.
You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.
He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.
“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.
“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.
“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”
“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.
Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.
He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.
“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.
“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.
His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.
“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.
When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.
“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.
“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”
“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.
“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.
Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.
“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.
“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.
The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.
“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.
“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.
“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.
“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“
You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.
“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.
“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.
For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.
“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”
You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.
“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.
“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.
“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.
“Jungkook. Yours?”
“Y/N.”
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hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza
#bts fanfic#bts jungkook#bts#bts fic#jungkook x reader#solarhys#jeon jungkook#bangtan#jungkook fanfic#smut#jungkook bts#jungkook smut#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook one shot#jungkook oneshot#new year 2025
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forever and a day | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem long distance reader
nothing can separate them, except maybe 9,000 miles and a couple of oceans.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
oscarpiastri
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liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 893,209 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: finally back in the homeland and reunited with my girl
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user1: oscary/n nation we are so back
user2: australia always does us so well
yourusername: can you convince mclaren that they should keep paying for our dates
oscarpiastri: i think we were technically working
yourusername: were we? it never feels like work being with you
oscarpiastri: you didn't notice all of the people around us and filming us?
yourusername: i only have eyes for you osc, we know this
oscarpiastri: hehehhehehehee
yourusername: also i have to completely commit you to memory before you fuck off for another couple of months
oscarpiastri: you could always just come with me
yourusername: let me get my degree first, one of us has to be educated osc
oscarpiastri: i have my a-levels? lando doesn't even have gcses
landonorris: why am i catching a stray?
yourusername: because my boyf is smart
landonorris: i've got street smarts 😩
oscarpiastri: you've been catfished like five times already and nearly had your bank details stole?
landonorris: well ... i like to see the best in people?
user3: thank you mclaren for giving us the oscar and y/n content
user4: and the proof that love still exists
user5: terminally lonely girls block mclaren, oscar and y/n.- it's for your mental health
user6: or if you have commitment issues this is some good exposure therapy
logansargeant: oh who did you force to be your photographer this time?
yourusername: you never learnt reading comprehension in school?
logansargeant: i can read i just choose not to read the soppy shit you and oscar say to each other
oscarpiastri: leave us alone
yourusername: you have a problem with us no matter what 🤨
logansargeant: do NOT make me the bad guy for complaining about hearing your guys' sexy time
oscarpiastri: we spend A LOT of time away from each other
yourusername: and by the sounds of it, you could learn a lot
logansargeant: you know what WHATEVER
user7: they terrorise logan so much from opposite sides of the world, pray for him when she can travel with oscar
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 83,409 others
yourusername: i love any piece of you osc but the separation anxiety is kicking my ass
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user9: oscar gave y/n a plush of himself
user10: no cause he's literally such a black cat
yourusername: he blushes just like that as well
user11: oh really?
user12: want to share with the class
yourusername: that's for my eyes only
oscarpiastri: i'm glad he got to you safely
yourusername: i just about tackled the postman 😔
oscarpiastri: poor graham, we should get him a better christmas gift this year
yourusername: yeah sorry graham but you sprayed the kitty with your cologne and i can't be held responsible for my feral behaviour
user13: they get their postman christmas gifts?
user14: they have the same postman?
user15: yes, y/n lives with his family
user16: really?
yourusername: they can't get rid of me
oscarpiastri: they also love her as much as i do (literally, i have to fight my sisters to spend time with y/n)
landonorris: so this is why we were waiting so long for you at the airport
oscarpiastri: well, yes. it's very important i get y/n a souvenir
landonorris: i could've slept for like an hour longer?
yourusername: just because you don't understand true romance lando 🤨
landonorris: i know romance!
yourusername: maccies in a hotel room is not romance
landonorris: you guys are just freaks about each other that's not my fault
user17: y/n hanging out with oscar's sisters is so precious
user18: if they aren't married soon i will no longer believe in love
user19: they're 23?
user20: tbf i forget that because they've been together since they were like 15
logansargeant
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 351,904 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
logansargeant: oscar forced me to post this so y/n could 'remember how hot he is while he's away at war'
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user21: oh wow... thank you logan!
user22: this is not exactly what i was expecting when i opened instagram but alas i'm not complaining
yourusername: WOOF WOOF WOOF
oscarpiastri: 🤭🤭🤭
logansargeant: someone please remind me why i'm friends with you two
yourusername: because we're your only friends?
yourusername: wait sorry that was mean
yourusername: i just get protective
logansargeant: you're telling me 🤨
oscarpiastri: i'm swooning 🥰🩷
logansargeant: i give up
alexalbon: why am i a part of this oscar thirst trap? why are you posting a thirst trap of oscar?
yourusername: HE'S A GOOD FRIEND
alexalbon: i didn't consent to be part of your weird long distance lust
yourusername: oh girl ain't no one looking at you when oscar is there
alexalbon: you know what you're mean :( i want you to stay in australia
yourusername: i promise i'm a lot nicer when i'm with osc, the distance makes me cranky
alexalbon: i see, remind me to never take oscar out in a race
logansargeant: i think that's wise - i heard her yelling down the phone about carlos
yourusername: i had to block him to stop myself
user23: i am honestly so confused
user24: i think we just let them do it, we'll never understand
landonorris: do NOT ask me to do this @oscarpiastri
yourusername: booooooo you're such a debbie downer
oscarpiastri: he's just s fuckboy he doesn't understand
landonorris: i don't think i'll ever understand you two
yourusername
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 119,056 others
yourusername: one degree hotter xx
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user26: fucking finally now we can get y/n in the paddock every weekend
liked by oscarpiastri
user27: mclaren social media team seen celebrating just as much
oscarpiastri: and i didn't think it was possible for you to get any hotter
yourusername: maybe a piastri jersey?
oscarpiastri: and a ring?
yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
yourusername: you know i'll never say no to that
yourusername: do nOT propose through an instagram comment oscar - nicole
oscarpiastri: noted 😔
yourusername: but name the time and the place and i'll be there baby
user28: so we could defo get a y/noscar proposal this season
user29: i would be so insufferable it's unbelievable
user30: the way i just know it was killing oscar not being able to go
user31: did you guys see the kicked dog eyes in the paddock yesterday 😭😭😭
oscarpiastri: they had to force me on the plane
landonorris: no they legit were about to call mick or pato
user32: did y/n convince you to not run away to australia?
oscarpiastri: maybe ....
charles_leclerc: ummmmm who is this oscar? why hasn't your father been introduced?
yourusername: HI
oscarpiastri: y/n is the love of my life and you SHOULD be able to meet her next race weekend
yourusername: so have i also got another father-in-law?
charles_leclerc: you seem to terrorise the other drivers a lot so - yeah!
yourusername: at your service (unless it's you hitting oscar, then there's no MERCY)
charles_leclerc: okay you are kinda scary wtf
oscarpiastri
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,203,677 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: unbelievably proud of you and everything you've done darling. i'm so sorry i couldn't be there to celebrate with you, but i'll make it up to you before you know it xx
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user33: oh to be loved like this
user34: they make me feel lonely like the world apart i can only imagine how insane it'll be when they're back together 24/7
yourusername: i love you so so so much osc. you've done more than you could know by supporting me through my education. we have the rest of our lives to be together, so don't beat yourself about it now
oscarpiastri: but i'm so proud of you and just wanted to be there to celebrate you :(
yourusername: osc i can feel you pouting through the screen baby
landonorris: he really is and it's kinda annoyingly cute
yourusername: of course it's cute it's oscar 🙄
landonorris: right so i'll take back my congratulations then
yourusername: FINE BY ME
user35: obsessed with how y/n and lando already have this weird sibling bond
user36: it's the weird relationship that you kind of love between your gf and friend
user37: it's all cute until they actually fight
yourusername: if he makes any wrong step against oscar i'll crush that loser
landonorris: ahhaaha funny joke
yourusername: you're a 5'5 twig, i could snap you in half
user38: i need them to recreate the last photo when oscar wins his first race
user39: i think pinterest would explode
yourusername: no but no joke, i love you so much osc and i can't wait to start the new chapter of our life
oscarpiastri: i love you too xx
oscarpiastri: sorry to my sisters but they're losing their live in stylist because you're never ever leaving me ever again
oscarpiastri: that makes me sound like a possessive asshole but i just have attachment issues
yourusername: no these years since you started in f3 have been actual hell without you and i never want to leave your side again
yourusername: i just love watching you do what you love
oscarpiastri: i'll always love you more
user40: who's chopping onions wtf
user41: i'm invoicing them for my therapy
mclarenf1
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liked by fredvesti, arthurleclerc and 1,256,046 others
tagged: yourusername
mclarenf1: don't tell oscar but we've got a surprise guest for him 🤫
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user45: take me out back and shoot me please and thank you
user46: so real of you
landonorris: is this why his phone is currently hidden in my drivers room?
mclarenf1: maybe ...
landonorris: if he fights me for it that's on you guys
mclarenf1: wait admin has just realised you definitely shouldn't be on your phone
landonorris: LOL
user47: mclaren you better not fuck this race for oscar because i need my big rom com ending kiss in parc ferme
user48: omg romance writers do i have a plot for you
user49: the way this would seem so unrealistic if i read it in a book but these fools really have been together for like eight years and are unbelievably in love
yourusername: heheheheh thanks for flying me out on such late notice xx
mclarenf1: no worries queen
yourusername: you guys better be on top form, you can't hide from me in the garage
mclarenf1: hahahaha 😅😅😅
user50: is y/n the reincarnation of nicole scherzinger? like a wag that goes fucking mental
user51: and wears team merch with pride
yourusername: nicole is a queen (thank you for one direction queen) but you guys do not want me on the microphone
user52: you and oscar karaoke? please?
yourusername: we once did breaking free together but you'll have to bother logan for that video
user53: OSCAR PLEASE WIN AND DO DRUNK KARAOKE
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,556,308 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: i told you she was my lucky charm. overjoyed to get my first win, it's a dream come true and to have the love of my life with me makes it even sweeter. y/n, i'll love you forever and a day x
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user54: CONGRATS OSCAR 🧡🧡🧡
user55: i'm having such a proud mum moment
user56: tears in my eyes
user57: not as much as y/n that girl was going THROUGH IT
user58: we need her mascara, cause that shit didn't budge
yourusername: I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU OSCAR
yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
yourusername: AND THANK YOU FOR WAITING FOR ME TO BE AT A RACE TO WIN
oscarpiastri: i guess i just knew in my bones you were here and simply had to win
oscarpiastri: i just wanted to see you so bad that i drove the fastest to the finish line
yourusername: well tell them to hurry up and debrief so we can celebrate 👀
oscarpiastri: ON MY WAY
user59: maybe we will get that karaoke?
logansargeant: congrats bro! @landonorris i hope you brought some ear plugs, if not you might want to start drinking now
landonorris: SOMEONE GET ME A DRINK STAT
yourusername: i'll personally buy you a drink because i'm going to rock his world tonight
oscarpiastri: 😎😎😎
landonorris: and here i thought you were my little innocent teammate
yourusername: there's nothing little about him
landonorris: EWWWW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE
yourusername: all celebrations aside, i'm so proud and i'll love you forever and always x
oscarpiastri: it's always been you and it will always be you
yourusername: i love you
oscarpiastri: i love you too
fin.
note: WOOOOOOOOOO OSCAR!!! (i'm ignoring everything else to do with the race, oscar is my king)
#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1#oscar piastri instagram au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri social media au
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hands on me | c. sturniolo
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→ chris x fem!reader
→ plot; chris and y/n get into one of their usual screaming matches, but this one ends a little less usual than normal.
→ warnings; smut, fingering, swearing, f!oral (receiving), choking, unprotected sex (STAY SAFE), dirty talk, use of names (baby)
→ hi pretty lovies :) this is my first time writing a smut fanfic so PLSSS let me know if you guys like it, and if there are any requests, don’t hesitate to share! almost nothing is off limits ;) enjoy!
NOT PROOFREAD EEK
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y/n and chris had been in a screaming match all day.
from sunrise to the middle of the night, it's taken both nick and matt holding the two back so they don't entangle and kill each other.
"whatever," nick breaths, "i'm so fucking done with you guys. i know you don't get along but this is ridiculous."
"yeah" matt agreed, letting out a sigh. "i for one am tired as shit, try not to murder the other while we're asleep," the other two brothers pace back into their respective rooms, slamming the door one after another.
"great!" y/n starts, "who am i supposed to sleep with now, guaranteed they both just locked their doors." she whispered to herself.
"god, who cares? you could sleep on the street for all i fucking care." chris yells, watching y/n stand outside of nick's door, not daring to make an advance inside.
the girl shot daggers at him, "whatever chris, tell that to your fucking brothers, they're the ones who let me live here." y/n huffs out as she shoves chris full force out of the way, preparing for a sleep on the boy's couch. but before she can even reach the end of the hallway, chris grabs y/n by the throat and slams her against the wall.
y/n hits the wall, exuding air on impact, hands gripping onto chris', which has her easily pinned on to the wall.
"did you seriously just put your hands on me?" he said lowly, closing the distance between him and
y/n. the girls heart was racing at a mile a minute, unsure of what her actions would cause next. she was so confident yelling at chris frequently from across the room, but suddenly powerless in his grasp, she was, briefly, at a loss for words.
"yeah," y/n managed to grunt out. she had never been this close to chris before, let alone feel his body inches away from her own skin. his eyes were dark and low, jaw tight and sharp, his features barely illuminated in the light. as much as she hated him, she found him punishingly attractive.
"and what are you going to do about it?" she dared to whisper to him, trying to keep as much confidence in her tone as she could, not letting him see how much she withered under his touch.
from a few heavy breaths, y/n's throat still in his hand, he shoved her into his room and shut the door behind him. he flipped the two around so she was again back against the wall.
"what am i going to do about it?" he taunted, less than an inch between their bodies, breaths mingling and eyes locked in contact.
"you have no idea what i could do to your right now," chris spoke lowly, uninterested in letting his brother's hear the way he is speaking to the girl he supposedly wants to kill.
"if only you just kept that pretty little mouth shut, maybe i could've showed you sooner," his words faded out, his hand around her neck tightened slightly, as he brushed his lips against hers, earning a barely audible moan from the girl under his grip.
"chris" y/n managed to breath out, suddenly feeling a sense of neediness and wanting from him. is it bad she could be so turned on from how rough chris was being with her? she had never seen this side of him before, the side of him that she didn't think existed to her. before this he was ready to take her head off and so was she. but now she could feel the heat rising in her legs, and shocking her stomach, anticipating what was to come next.
"what? don't act like you don't want it, you think i can't tell that you do? look at you." chris taunted, gently using his teeth to tug on her bottom lip. y/n felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest.
unknowing what came over her, y/n remarked back "oh, i'd want this. just not with you," she could see the anger growing in his face as she continued, "anyone could do whatever you'd do better." she knew what the words she was saying would lead her. she almost hoped chris got the message.
"is that so? i'll show you you're wrong." chris swiftly tossed y/n to the bed, pinning her down, yet again cementing their faces inches away from each other.
"you'll be begging me to do this more often when we're done," beginning to leave sloppy kisses against y/n's neck. "i'd destroy you,"
"so destroy me," y/n dared.
chris smiled against her skin, wet kisses becoming dark hickies all over her neck and jaw. his lips slowly moved down to her covered chest, frustrated with the fabric, he tugged on her shirt, signaling to take it off.
y/n sat up in the bed ripping her shirt over her head, his eyes meeting with her bare chest. "no bra, huh?" he said before claiming her right nipple in his mouth, kissing, sucking, and biting on it, and doing it harder with each moan he earned from her.
"i never wear one" she admitted, eyes screwed shut in the unexpected pleasure that chris sturniolo was bringing to her.
"i hope that's not the only thing you never wear," he said against her skin, kisses continuing down her body until he reached her inner thighs, with only a thin layer of fabric separating her core and his lips.
y/n gasped as he yanked her to the edge of the bed, making her wet shorts visible to him even in the dim light. he smirked looking up at her,
"fucking soaked," he said what she already knew, throwing her head back and screwing her eyes shut in anticipation, "chris, please." she begged, thinking how pathetic it was that the few words she was able to get out gave chris everything he wanted to hear in that moment, but she didn't care.
"since you're begging for me," he taunted, taking off y/n's barely there sleeping shorts, taking in how perfect her core was dripping under the light, practically calling his name. never would he had anticipating being in this moment, but god he knew he was lying if he said he didn't think about it.
he teased her by trailing small kisses and nibbles against her inner thigh, making her wetter by the second. before y/n knew, he was licking and sucking down her slit, arms pushing her legs further into her chest to get even deeper.
gripping the sheets with white knuckles, y/n found it impossible not to scream his name as he stuck his tongue inside her, moaning against her pussy as the vibrations drove her closer to her high.
"chris i'm gonna cum," she said panting, edging him to keep going, not wanting the pleasure to stop as she found her hands tangled in his hair. but before y/n managed to reach her high, he pulled his face away from between her legs. mouth dripping with all her juices, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.
the two kissed each other hungrily, each fighting for dominance over the other, but chris ultimately won as he stuck to fingers inside of her, causing y/n to gasp, prompting chris to shove his tongue into her mouth.
"how am i supposed to hate you when i know your pussy is this good?" chris asked between sloppy wet kisses, his fingers continuing to pump in and out of her, wetness leaking onto his bedsheets.
y/n could feel the knots tying in her stomach, signaling she was close, “c-chris i’m so fucking close,” she said absolutely breathless, weakly gripping his moving wrist.
his two fingers slowed their pace, and she whined at the loss of contact. y/n couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, in order to do something to stop the aching between her legs.
“not so fast,” chris said, peeling off his hoodie and sweats, leaving him in just black calvin klein underwear. “spread,” he demanded.
y/n obliged without hesitation, aching and ready for him to be inside her. chris used his thumb to rub her clit in circles, causing her to arch her back and moan in pleasure, chris could feel his dick aching to fuck her, but he wasn’t going to let her have it easily.
“c-chris please,” she begged, “please what, baby?-
baby?
-tell me,” he said, knowing exactly what she wanted from him, “please f-fuck me- shit,”
as soon as those words left her mouth, chris removed his underwear, his length springing up, leaking with pre-cum and burning with desire.
he ran the tip on y/n’s slit, groans exiting from both of their mouths. without warning, he slammed his entire length into her, causing her to gasp at the feeling.
tears ran down y/n’s cheek as she moaned out chris’ name and profanities at the pace that he was pounding into her,
“you look so pretty when i fuck you, baby,” he growled in her ear, “look at you, doing so good at taking all of me,” he said before sensually connecting their lips.
y/n had no words to say, only muffled sounds in between kisses coming out of her mouth from being completely fucked out by chris, and it didn’t take long for her to feel her orgasm coming back.
“oh, chris, i’m gonna cu-,”
“wait, you cum when i say, okay?” he said lowly, before quickening his pace, feeling his own climax coming too.
“i can’t take it, please let me cum,” y/n pleaded, feeling completely buzzed from all the sensation going in her body.
“cum baby, i’m right there too,” he breathed out, feeling her walls clench around him causing chris to explode inside her, filling her up at the same time she reached her own high.
chris pumped a few more times in and out of her, both groaning as he pulled his dick out of her, then falling on the bed next to the sexed out girl next to him.
the two looked at each other for a moment, and chris softly kissed her, finding his way to be on top of her again. he pulled their lips apart and ran a hand through her hair,
“why do we do this? i’m tired of hating you, why do you act like that with me?” y/n said, staring at chris’ piercing blue eyes above her. he sighed, “i really don’t know,” he started, “i guess the way i feel about you just made me angry for some reason. it always made me mad how close you are with nick and matt, and i guess i kept it up too long,” he admitted, playing with the ends of her soft hair.
“you should’ve just told me,” y/n retorted, placing a gentle hand on the side of chris’ face, and he nuzzled into it. “i know, and i’m sorry. can we be done with that, please?” he asked her, cautiously.
“of course we can,” y/n smiled. chris smiled back at her, connecting their lips once more.
“okay,” he began grabbing her hand, “let’s go get cleaned up. we can have another fight in the shower,” smiling deviously at her after making the statement.
y/n rolled her eyes at the boy, and quickly followed him into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.
#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#smut#sturniolo fanfic#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo
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I think I was right and wrong in the funniest way possible. Because like if we're talking a fight, Sonic pretty much pushed a direct fight off for so long. Like he told Shadow they would both do it but that didn't end up happening. And then Nine and Sonic BOTH started fighting the shit out of each other (kind of fight that makes you go "wrow😳" like the Shadow/Sonic fight in Episode 1 of Season 2). But like I was also right because until the bitter end Sonic refused to label Nine as a traitor and let anyone even think of killing him.
The irony is that Sonic’s the one who fought Nine in S3 but he refused to give up on him and refused to let him die and refused to lose everything.
"I hope Shadow gets to beat the shit outta Nine in s3"
Ha ha ha you think Sonic would allow that? You fool. You absolute buffoon.
#sonic prime#sonic the hegehog#shadow the hedgehog#nine sonic prime#miles nine prower#nine the fox#sonic prime season 3 spoilers#sonic prime season 3#sonic prime s3#sonic prime s3 spoilers#i just be ramblin#Everything about the reality of their situation in s3 was so poetic to me though#Gonna refrain from talking too much about it cause like. you know. that's what Sonine prime is for#But like the way Sonic put off and put off fighting Nine to reason with him#and the accepted the terms of fighting back against Nine but decided it was best just to say his piece and give himself up#And then how he struggled with not fighting Nine one on one because of everything Nine was doing#But then no matter how far it got (no matter how badly Sonic wanted to fight them) he was always planning on trying to get through to Nine#At some point fighting became a tactic of both protecting what you hold dear and hoping that person will stop if countered with overwhelmin#force#But when it came down to it Sonic protected him. he realized this wasn't working. he decided that as far as things got he wanted to win Nin#back over and get him to stop#the narrative makes sure to pepper in moments to show the audience that Sonic cares no matter how bad the fight gets#He accepts fighting if he absolutely has to but he doesn't actually want Nine to hurt. he doesn't like watching Nine destroy himself. he#doesn't want anyone to kill Nine#I'm going crazy guys I'm going crazy#Sonine
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Keep Running, Little Bunny!
Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader
Masterlist
Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me
Summary: Logan takes you, but gives you a chance to escape... what isn't he telling you?
Warnings: NON CON DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Logan is a masochist and a bit of a sadist but def more into the pain. Feral!Logan, primal kink, THIS IS NON NON, READER AND LOGAN GET SLICED UP! I'm not listing everything here, just please read with caution! Physical and sexual violence! Somno!
Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, able bodied
A/N: first time writing Logan!!! Im obssed with him after deadpool wolverine but the only other Wolverine movie ive seen was that really bad one in like japan or something lmfao. I do wanna watch them all now (Oscar Isaac is in apocalypse!) This may not be the most correct but I'm trying. Lemme know if you wan more Logan!
Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx
Im late but I wanted to do the manspreading for the manspreading olympics by @toxicanonymity
"You're a hard girl to get a hold of, princess."
Logan is sitting across from the bed you've woken up in, in a chair with his legs spread wide. You can see the bulge in his pants from how he touched you, caressing your sleeping body as you slowly woke up from whatever you were given. His hands slid up your loose shorts, a single finger slipping in and out of your hole, making sure the first words you woke up to were, "Are you always this wet?" with his hot breath fluttering on your skin.
Slowly, the memories began to come to you: how you fought and kicked and screamed as Logan tried to drag you away, him shoving the chloroformed rag in your mouth until you passed out gagging...
Now here you were, watching him as he palmed his hardness in front of you.
"i thought X-men were good guys." You spit, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him touch himself.
He shrugs with a little smirk on the right side of his face. "I wouldn't call myself a good guy. Never have. Saving the world is one thing... but I think I'm owed a little something on the side."
You laugh at that, a bark of a laugh that signals the disbelief that he's actually speaking to you right now, saying such things. "I don't owe you shit!"
"Maybe not. Doesn't matter though, because I'm gonna let you go." Logan groans, stroking a long, hard drag down the line of his cock in his pants.
This makes you narrow your eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"
"I'm gonna let you go. Gonna let you make a run for it. Here." He tosses a knife to the bed, making you flinch but then you quickly grab it, eyeing him. He's still touching himself, but with an agonized sigh he lets go. You wonder if he was close... Logan stands up, opening the door to the small, one room cabin and letting you see the trees outside. "Half a mile west there's a road. Not used a whole lot but someone is bound to come by, pick you up. I'll give you a head start, and you can use that knife on me. You can kill me if you try hard enough. Little fighter like you, might even be able to get the slip on me."
You blink. This can't be real. "This is a trick, isn't it... you're gonna punish me for running, or, or for stabbing you..."
Logan shakes his head, gesturing out to where the sun was setting fast. "Nope, won't punish you for that. Just like a challenge, that's all."
"There's... there a catch, isn't there... something you aren't telling me."
For a moment his face is still, like he's trying to put on a poker face. Then, a smile breaks. "I've never been a good lair. yeah, there's something I'm not tell'n yuh, bub, but really, what choice do you have?"
As you rise from the bed, he stands back. You hold out the knife, and he keeps his hands up, palms towards you... his face was almost condescending... but what choice did you have. Once you back away several steps, you turn around and make a run for it. You weren't exactly sure his powers, but given his name was wolverine you were fairly certain speed was one of them.
"I'll count down from 100!" Logan calls after you, his voice starting to sound distant. "100... 99...98... keep running little bunny! 97... 96..." You faintly hear the 95 before you're out of earshot, running as fast as your legs can take you through the woods. Jumping over logs and stumbling down hills, you run more than you have since your high school made you do a mile, your out of shape body struggling to take in oxygen. Tree branches smacked your face, leaves wet with dew, the little sticks drawing blood on your cheek but you don't dare stop, not for a second.
Something zooms past you nearby, a rustling of bushes an the faint sound of '10' in your ear, before all goes still again. You're close, you have to be.
'5'
Shit, shit. You grip the knife in your fist as you try to pick up speed, tired legs carrying you as fast as they'll go but it's not enough.
Logan is in front of you, a broad smile on his face and hands gripping your shoulders to stop you. "One."
You scream, stabbing him in the rib cage expecting him to shout in pain but instead he moans in pleasure. No time to process this, you kick him in the dick and shove him over, making a run for it again, but Logan grabs your foot, causing you to fall face first into the dirt and grass. Strong arms yank you, despite crawling as nothing, and suddenly you are under him.
"No!" You try to get away, but he's too strong, too quick, pinning your hands down and he looms over you.
"Pretty little bunny... running so fast..." Logan cocks his head to the side. "Not quite fast enough, eh?" Leaning down, Logan licks a stripe up your cheek, tasting the blood on your face. "Tasty little bunny..."
Your hand with the knife continues to be pinned down, Logan bracing his entire weight on your wrist while he undoes his pants, freeing his cock from the restraints. The throbbing member lay heavy against your thigh, a size you can only guess from the feeling and for a moment you think he's going to take off your shorts the same way. Then, Logan placed his knuckles at the base of your shorts and suddenly there's a stinging, sharp pain running up your leg and to your waist.
"Fuck!!!" No one is around to hear you screaming, no one except Logan who thrust his fist out, tearing your shorts and underwear to literal shreds.
When cock is thrust into you, you can't even scream anymore as the sounds get lodged into your throat, trapped in there just as you are now, his body caging you.
"Fuck'n tight there, princess. Is that fear, or is that all you?" You respond with a slap to his face which only makes him fuck you harder. "Aha, I think that's all you, baby doll, you were soaking my fingers earlier. Creamy little pussy ready to squirt on a strangers hands."
"FUCK YOU!"
"You want me dead?"
"Yes!"
He releases your sore hand, but the knife still lays next to it. "Take your shot, why dontcha?"
Thinking fast, you grab the handle again and with a scream, you plunge it into his neck.
To your surprise he just grins broadly. What the fuck is wrong with him.
Again, again, again, you stab the knife into different parts of his body as he stabs between your legs, fucking with more more intensity, with loud moans, closer and closer to his release. His gruff pants in your ear mirror your screams, listening to Logan moan and groan and whimper as he ravages your helpless body when you realize... he likes it. He likes it and the wounds are healing as fast as you can cut him.
"Pretty bunny..." He chuckles lowly, his hand gripping your sides so hard it feels like a pinch, your fragile non-mutant body nothing but a plaything for him. With a loud growl, Logan cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to fuck him cum inside you, streams of hot cum flooding inside you. How was he still hard? Movements begin to slow, but your exhaustion begins to take it's toll on you, giving up harming him and simply taking it. "That's it... that's my good girl. Give in to me, little bunny. Let me have you... I can make it so good." Logan thrusts up into you, hitting something so devastating and deep no one has before, his rough hand sliding to your center to caress your bud.
"I don't want it to be good..." You cry weakly, even as pleasure builds down in you.
"Sure yuh do... c'mon, pretty girl you can give it to me... don't fight it, it's useless. You're mine now, my bunny... cum for me..." Logan's demeanor changes, suddenly indulgent and begging, his facial hair tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. "Wanna feel it... Wanna feel my sweet bunny coming on my cock... becoming mine..." You can't fight it anymore, the thick stretch on him, his skilled hands, the sleepiness clouding your rational... and he feels it too. "There we go... that's my girl, all mine, huh? You're mine now my pet... yeah... all mine..." It was painfully delicious, the way he made you feel, how his hands seemed to know you so intimately...
Then that chloroformed clothe was on your mouth again, his cock still buried hard inside you. You didn't fight this time, letting the release of sleep take you.
Slowly, Logan began to grind his hips into your body again, his hands claw extending again as they slipped under your shirt. No cuts this time, only a few nicks before he shredded your shirt now, leaving you in tattered clothes as he felt you up. Logan's mouth was at your ear. "Can't have you fighting me this time, little bunny. I'm gonna get to know this sweet body, I'm gonna lean everything it likes..." He cups your breasts, tweaking at a bare nipple. "Gonna take good care of you."
As you fall asleep, you can hear a car driving nearby.
THANK YOU!!!!!
I am so excited to try out a new character!!!!!!
Unfortunetly, after I made the go fund me listed above my car's fucking starter went bad ;-; that'll be like $800. I'm struggling to get by. Please please pease consider making a donation or donating o my ko-fi or biy me a coffee all linked above!. If not, thats totally okay! Theres no presure.
If you are inclinded, please consider reblogging this post with my go fund me.
Likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appriciated!!!
I knew I'm new to logan but if you like OScar Isaac or Pedro PAscal characters, consider checking out my other work!! thanks!!!
Tagging those who expressed interest or who i thought might like?
No presure if its not your thing! Comment if you want more dark logan!
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @reveric @wolverineswaifu @birbita @multiversed-daydreamer
love yuh!
#dark logan howlett#dark!fic#non con#logan howlett x reader#hugh jackman#wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#logan x reader#x men#logan howlett smut#james logan howlett#dark logan#dark wolverine#smut#hugh jackman logan#manspreading olympics
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After Hours
summary: Rafe lets his jealousy get the best of him and it pisses you off, but he makes it up to you after hours.
"Y/n, he's doing it again" Carly whispers over your shoulder as you work on drying off the bar glasses and putting them back on the shelf. You sigh on the outside but your insides warm at the thought of Rafe staring at the back of your figure. This is how it always goes.
He always wants to see you, claiming he can't get enough while you pull away, dedicated to your job. So Rafe decides why not kill two birds with one stone and come see you at work.
Unfortunately, wherever Rafe goes, his posse follows, and considering they're notorious party animals, they can't seem to hold their liquor. "Hey, Let's get another round goin' over here!" Topper shouts, words slurred and eyes heavy-lidded. Anyone within a mile radius could hear the cheers that came from their table at the announcement, and it made you dread going over there, but it's your job.
Not that you hated where you worked, it was right in the heart of figure eight, not too far from where you lived and it pays well most days, but drunk kooks pay even better.
As you walked over with a tray of shots, their hollers grew louder in volume and the environment made you nervous. Not because of the noise at their table, but because of the silence that Rafe held as you placed everything down.
His quiet, blue gaze lingered over your curves as you smiled at the boys. "Wow, you're just too pretty to be working at this hour. How about you pull up a chair and join us?" Topper's hand gently holds your upper arm and Rafe finally speaks up.
Prompted by a flare of jealousy, "Get your hands off her, Top." Rafe's voice overpowers the table to a still silence that even startled you. Topper immediately moves his hand as Kelce 'Oohs'. "Shit man, my bad." He apologizes. Rafe sends you an apologetic glance that you ignore before hastily collecting your tray and returning to the bar.
But it was too late. You were already upset.
-
The bar had just let out its last customer and you worked on wiping down the tables, most of the lights off and the blinds shut. Some street lights managed to seep through the cracks in the shutters which left golden shadows on the black marble countertops.
It takes a knock on the door to finally pull your head up from the task on hand where you are locking eyes with Rafe on the other side of the glass. You stepped towards the door, not unlocking it.
Your arms crossed and your expression conveyed what he already knew. "Open the door." Voice muffled but you still hear him loud and clear, you huff, knowing he would break the door down if he needed to. You opened it.
"You know I'm not a fucking child, right Rafe?" You sneer, and he locks the door behind him. "I know that. I just hate seeing other guys hit on you. It does things to me- shit makes me just wanna-" his expression contorts, unable to describe the emotion.
"I know, but you gotta trust me. You think I like when that bitch Holly from the yacht club has her hands on you? No, but I trust you." You throw the cloth down on the bar.
Watching as Rafe rounded the island to be on your side, finger under your chin and tilting your head up to look at him. His stone-cold blue eyes run warm as he grins down at you, "I don't give a fuck what Holly does, cuz at the end of the day all I'm thinkin' bout is you."
He leans down, his breath ghosting over your lips. Just barely giving you a taste of what you so desperately need. "I still don't forgive you." You quip, hardly able to step away before his big hand is wrapped around your neck, a light pressure applied, a warning.
"You think I'm lying? I'll show you who the fuck this dick belongs to. How about that, yeah?"
In a blur of heated kisses and hot touches, your clothes were scattered across the floor and your bra had landed somewhere on the rack, forgotten as Rafe fucked you mindless over the counter.
His thick cock pummeling in and out of your soaked cunt. He grabs a fistful of your dark curls, pulling you up so your back can meet his chest. "Now tell me, baby. Who does this pussy belong to, huh?" He hisses through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the tight grip your walls provided him.
"M-me." You moan pathetically and it makes him laugh. He lets you go, and your upper half falls back onto the counter unceremoniously. He pulled out slowly, all the way until only the tip remained buried. "Try again."
He plummets back inside your core, his tip kissing your cervix and you scream, eyes filling with tears as you blabber, begging him not to stop. "Let's try that again, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to."
"You! You-- fuck! It's yours, all yours. No one else's."
He grins, he already knew this, of course. He just liked hearing you say it.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe drabble#outer banks smut#rafe obx#outer banks imagines#rafe smut#rafe cameron blurb#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe imagine#outer banks#obx#obx fic#drew starkey#drew starkey smut
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