#i'm sorry this is so fucking long you do not have to match length

[notverybrighton]

Bloodbath treasures now in her hands, a canteen in one and a knife in the other, Sable knew it was time to move. She saw the opening to what she knew to be tunnels under the Arena, and she passed it. She'd head down later, after all the other tributes who were going to use them made their way further, deeper, and Sable wouldn't have to fear every single corner. Now, she took to the stairs of the stands and ran up, up, up, until she could hardly breathe, until she'd made her way into a room that overlooked the Cornucopia far below.

She wasn't sure where she was. She remembered this Arena from her history classes, of course, but this room hadn't been something that was covered, as far as she could recall. And perhaps that would be to her advantage. Perhaps other tributes wouldn't think to come up here. Perhaps she could hide, lock the door, and wait out the Games.

But, when tested, the door didn't lock. Taking in her surroundings - chairs and tables, like the viewing rooms in the Tower - Sable gave herself time to even out her breath. She took a long drink from her hard-won canteen and gasped until she managed a steady rhythm, in and out. She needed a plan. She needed the strategy that Brighton had studied. She needed to be Brighton. But if there was one thing she'd learned in the Bloodbath, it was that she wasn't Brighton. She was Sable, and she didn't have what it takes to win.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as her breath threatened to lurch again, this time in sobs. She couldn't let it. She placed her canteen on the ground next to her and bit down on the fist that didn't hold the knife to silence herself as best she could, lest some stray tribute overhear - or worse, a tribute who had followed her. Or even worse than that, a mutt. As Sable cried, presumably ruining Brighton's spotless reputation, she waited by the door, ready to attack whoever came in, because she had to try, dammit. She had to try.

@decimafaustina

[kikixreverie]

It's called: freefall

Bucky x Female reader

Summary - Things get heated between you and your closest friend Bucky, when you're made to play a married couple on an important mission. Neither of you can help yourselves when you end up stuck in a hotel room together, with sexual tension you could cut with a knife.

Word count - 10k

Warnings - (18+) smut, fingering, p in v, friends to lovers, fake marriage, gross misogynistic man (not Bucko), borderline sexual harassment (not too intense, just gross words, and also not Bucky ofc), fluff, kinda angst, more misogyny.

A/N - Hi, this took me weeks to edit for some reason, sorry, and apologies if it's too long/wordy, i got carried away again. I'm not a big fan of the first half ngl, maybe that's because it's bad, or maybe it's because I've read it about a hundred times. The smut is good though, and that's what really matters.

________________________

"It's just a quick job, I promise. It'll be easy."

Steve gave you a smile of encouragement, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him, before politely averting his gaze to the floor when you lifted your dress slightly to slide your usual dagger into the holster on your thigh.

"Then what's with the getup?" You asked, lifting your head to catch sight of yourself in the mirror opposite you, looking at the dress you had been made to wear.

It was a pretty dress, beautiful actually, the colour beautiful against your skin-tone, perfectly fitted in all the right places, and it flowed down to the floor, a slit travelling up the length of your left leg, ending at your upper thigh.

You felt confident in it, and it was certainly a boost to your ego when Natasha wolf-whistled at the sight of you and Steve turned an impressive shade of red, but it wasn't something you were used to, having spent the past few years of your life dodging and refusing Tony's party invites, sticking to the comfiest clothes you owned when walking about the compound. It was a beautiful dress, but you couldn't help but feel like an imposter wearing it.

Natasha strode over to you and slightly adjusted the placement of your knife, ensuring it wasn't visible through the dress. "Daniel Kozlov. He's been on Shield's hit list for years now, fucker keeps catching and killing our agents on the inside."

You scoffed amusedly and shook your head, "What, so you send me in to get killed too?"

"Don't underestimate yourself, I've seen you take down four armed men with a screwdriver; you'll be fine, plus, you'll have Bucky and he knows how to stay undetected." Steve reassured you and you smiled at him, nodding to his words.

You heard footsteps behind you only moments before another voice spoke up, and you turned to the door, your breath catching in your throat as you did.

"That I do," Bucky nodded to Steve as he entered the room, eyes focused on his hands, adjusting his cuff links with a furrowed brow, before he finally tilted his gaze up, meeting your wide eyes with his own.

You barely noticed him looking you up and down, as you were too busy doing the exact same thing to him, no doubt probably being incredibly obvious as you stared with your lips parted. He looked like pure fucking sin.

Unadulterated and unfiltered sin.

His suit was all black and his pale, blue eyes contrasted against the colour, somehow making them stand out even more than usual. His already incredibly muscular arms and legs were accentuated, the expensive fabric tight against his skin, without it looking strange and uncomfortable, it only drew your attention to how broad his shoulders were compared to his narrow waist, or how thick his thighs looked in the black dress pants.

Multiple silver rings graced his fingers, matching with the silver, designer watch on his left wrist and you did a double-take when you noticed that his watch was wrapped around skin, not vibranium.

"Your arm." You said, sounding more like a statement than a question and Bucky forced himself to tear his gaze from your exposed thigh and tried to hide his pink dusted cheeks and breathless intake of air as his eyes followed yours to his metal arm, now concealed by what looked to be skin.

"Yeah." His voice came out as a sigh. He didn't know why, most amputees like him he was sure would be over the moon with the impressive technology, but it just made him uncomfortable, seeing his arm how he did 70 years ago. I felt inherently wrong. "Tony."

You nodded, looking away from his hand. A part of you was annoyed Tony had given it to him, knowing that it took Bucky years to accept that part of himself, and this seemed like it would be a setback in that department, though you still understood why it was necessary, Bucky was the best for the job, and chances are a criminal as 'highbrow' as Kozlov, would recognise the arm.

You wanted to change the subject, and you could tell Bucky did too, so you huffed a laugh and met his eyes, jokingly poking his chest with your finger, "You look like a mobster."

He nodded and chuckled, "Thanks, I guess. You look like a mobster's wife."

"Wife huh? Is that what we're doing?" You ask, turning your head to look down at Nat questioningly as she finished with your dress.

"Did they not tell you?" Bucky asked and you shook your head.

"I missed the briefing but Steve here thought he'd sign me up anyway." You gave the blonde a jokey, reprimanding look and he sighed, picking up two folders from the table and handing them to you.

"Blue one is about Kozlov, and the black is about who you and Bucky are going to be playing."

You take the folders from Steve, handing the blue one to Natasha as you open the black one, "James and Lucille Walter. Hey, how come he gets to keep his name and I get Lucille?"

"That's just a coincidence and I'm sure Bucky isn't too happy about it either. You're pretending to be a real couple, James Walter is one of Kozlov's newest buyers, he doesn't know him very well though, that's why you two shouldn't be caught out by anyone."

Nodding to Steve's words, you quickly skim over the rest of the folder, memorising as much as you can, before swapping with Nat and reading the other one, "And where are the real James and Lucille Walter?"

"Dead."

You stop your reading and turn to Natasha at the sound of her voice, giving her a look when she tried to hide her smirk.

"Ah, yes. Courtesy of Natasha Romanoff herself, Mr and Mrs Walter are in fact, dead" Steve spoke dramatically, causing you to scoff and wink at the redhead beside you.

"We should leave now. I'll explain further in the car and give you a rundown of the plan. Should be an easy job." Bucky takes the folders from you and tucks them under his arm, signalling for you to walk out the door and you give Steve and Natasha a smirk before you leave.

"Wish me luck guys."

_______________________________________

You were picked up from the compound by one of Stark's trusted drivers and Bucky described the plan in detail to you on the way there, but as you arrived closer and closer to your destination, you felt the nerves come on.

Usually, you were behind a computer screen on missions, hacking security cameras and breaking into encrypted files, you had no doubt of your fighting skills, you've been training almost your whole life, and the few missions you've done where you've had to fight were smooth sailing, but you had never done undercover before.

You started nibbling on your lower lip as soon as the car pulled up, doubting yourself again despite the amount of times Natasha has given you a whole speech about why you had no reason to ever do that.

The door on Bucky's side opened and when he offered you his arm to help you out of the car, meeting your eyes and giving you a gentle smile, you felt the nerves calm slightly.

You and Bucky were close in a way that no one had expected, considering he had the tendency to keep himself away from people and stay quiet when he was forced to socialise. You were slow-paced and gentle with him, a huge contrast to the way Sam would constantly be on Bucky about his lack of social skills, or Tony dragging him to parties he had no interest in. Sam always has the best intentions, but sometimes can be a little too enthusiastic for Bucky, and Tony, well sometimes Tony's just a dick with full knowledge of the fact that he's being one, and not a single care in the world about it.

You and Bucky both had an understanding, you had confided in him about your fears, your anxiety, and he had managed to do the same.

You just couldn't help but develop a teeny tiny crush on him over the past few months.

"Don't work yourself up, stay in character, stay alert, and remember the plan."

Nodding to him, you took a deep breath and put yourself into character, reminding yourself of yours and Bucky's new names, keeping your head up as you entered the party, an expensive diamond wrapped around your left ring finger with a similar pattern to the silver band Bucky had on his.

The hall was beautiful, gold detailing adorned the large doors and walls, reaching up to the ceiling to create beautiful patterns against the pristine white of the building. The party-goers were even more beautiful, hundreds of gowns and suits worth more than your life, probably bought and worn for a single night, before they're discarded and forgotten in the back of their walk-in closets.

You felt like you didn't fit in at all, but you watched as party guests eyed the two of you, and they seemed to be approving.

It didn't take you and Bucky long to get situated, stood in the corner of the extravagant hall with a glass of champagne now in your hand as you surveyed the exits and bodyguards, and Bucky looked for the target.

The mission was just a small lead in a huge investigation. You and Bucky were just here to buy something from Kozlov and then get out.

"Got him, 4 o-clock. He's surrounded but he should be expecting us so it shouldn't be an issue." Bucky had leant down to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling against your neck and causing a shiver to rake over your shoulders.

Fuck, he smelled like sin too.

It made you want to take a deeper breath, made you want to pull him even closer, close enough to close that small gap between your lips and kiss him till you run out of breath, and as much as that would be inconspicuous and normal for James and Lucille Walter, it would be completely inappropriate for Bucky and Y/n.

"We shouldn't go over yet. Let's just mingle a bit, get more of a feel of this place and blend into the background as much as we can." You add, and Bucky nods, surveying the room again before meeting your eyes.

"Good idea, but when we do go over, don't make eye contact with him and don't say anything," said Bucky. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, giving him a slightly annoyed, but understanding smile, and he smiled back apologetically, "I know, it's stupid, but that's what these guys are like. If he so much as thinks that you're either, on the table or threatening his masculinity, we're in trouble. Okay?"

You understood what Bucky was saying, men like Kozlov, they see women as property, or in some cases, currency. It's best to stay off their radar as best you can, which includes not threatening his masculinity by daring to look him in the eyes.

Women were to keep their heads down.

Which was bullshit.

"Okay."

He gives you a final nod and you think he's finally about to pull away and have mercy on your heart, but before he does, he pauses and presses his soft, warm lips to your cheek in a gentle kiss.

Air gets caught in your throat as it happens, but you try not to make an audible noise, quickly pulling yourself together and reminding yourself that you and Bucky are pretending to be a couple and he's just trying to sell it better. It makes sense.

It's just pretend.

You spend the whole evening with your hand wrapped around Bucky's bicep, neither of you breaking apart for anything as random people come up to you and try to start conversations. Usually, one of you will take one for the team and has to stand there talking about money and beach houses for five minutes, plus the occasional question about kids, which seemed to make Bucky blush every time, as the other keeps an eye on Kozlov.

"So how long have you two been married?" A seemingly kind lady asks, her red dress matching her lips as they stretch into an awkward smile.

"A year in June," You respond, well-rehearsed at this point as you smile up at your pretend husband, "Can't believe how quickly it's going."

Bucky is quick thinking with the act, and he smiles down at you, his arm wrapping gently around your waist and squeezing you to his side. Your heart probably stopped beating for a moment, and you wondered how he got so good at this, before brushing the thought away and looking back to the woman in the red dress, smiling warmly at her too.

"Ah, bet you two are still in the honeymoon phase. You look completely smitten with each other, it's adorable." She scrunched her nose up on the word 'adorable', her gaze flicking between the two of you before she glanced at her own husband, standing a few feet away as he laughed with a larger group of men, a big glass of whiskey in his hand. She sighed.

You tried to keep your face neutral, smiling and nodding along, but something about what she had said had caught in your chest, and you wished you could see just for a moment from someone else's eyes, just how 'smitten' you both look.

You felt bad for the woman, who stood in the middle of the huge ballroom completely alone and abandoned by her husband, but there wasn't anything you could do for her, and Bucky was subtly hinting to you that you were to go speak with Kozlov soon, so you kissed her cheek and bid her goodbye.

You spared Bucky a quick glance and he was focused on Kozlov, his face stoic as he glanced in his direction discreetly, scanning the exits too, checking for close-by security cameras and windows again, just in case.

"I think it's time, doll." He murmured.

You quickly lift your head to meet his eyes, the pet-name he usually only used when you were tipsy and would brush it off casually, slipping off his tongue, though it had the same effect sober or not, you blushed and nodded.

He smiled at you, almost looking fond, though you were pretty sure he was just offering you a break from the stoic, mission orientated Bucky, before he took a deep breath and reached for your hand on his bicep to hold it with his own, gently squeezing before guiding you towards the target.

As you walked Kozlov's way, who was surrounded by burly, most definitely armed bodyguards, you noticed the women surrounding him too, some with their husbands and all of them looking beyond uncomfortable, staring out at the party with bored, or even nervous expressions.

"James Walter," Bucky nodded to one of the bodyguards, who had stopped you both from passing, and the bodyguard shared a look with another, before nodding and letting you walk on.

Daniel Kozlov was sat comfortably in a velvet armchair as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand, seemingly stuck in a boring conversation as he stared at the wall before him, completely uninterested in what the man talking to him had to say.

"Mr Kozlov, I'm James Walter, It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."

Kozlov perked up at the sound of a new voice and a wide, Cheshire cat grin formed on his lips as he regarded you and Bucky, though you kept your eyes to the floor, or seemingly 'admiring' the expensive decorations as the men spoke.

"Ah, my new friend! I was hoping you'd show up, had a few men flake out on me recently," The man spoke dramatically, his thick European accent prevalent and images of his file flashed in your head, remembering that Shield had been taking down his buyers one by one, either arresting them on other charges or putting a bullet between their eyes as Natasha had done with the real Mr and Mrs Walter.

They weren't particularly very nice people, so you didn't hold much guilt for their deaths, or stealing their identity after the fact.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, sir. Heard you've got something I have my interests set on." Bucky's voice was smooth and charismatic, matching Kozlov's energy as best he could, and you couldn't lie, it made your blood run warmer, heat spreading to certain parts of your body you were ashamed to admit were reacting to the confidence he exuded tonight.

"Hm... I suppose I do. Do you always allow your wife to be a part of your deals?" Your looked up slightly at his mention of you, and Kozlov smirked wickedly at the expression on your face, "Women can be god-awful gossips sometimes."

This fucking guy-

Bucky squeezed your hand tightly, forcing the words from his tongue, "I assure you, sir. She is nothing to worry about."

He was just as pissed as you were.

"I don't know, she doesn't really seem like the quiet type, I reckon she's a loud-mouth once she's on her back, although I'm sure having her on her knees will shut her up nice and quiet." He chuckled darkly and Bucky's hand was holding yours so tight, his jaw clenching and unclenching, measured breaths exhaled through his nose, he still managed to keep his face blank though, as did you, quietly seething as you put on the frightened baby deer look that men seemed to love, staring down at the floor.

He needed to think you were in the same position as the other poor, frightened women here, that he'd get bored with you all the same.

You swallowed your tongue though, wanting nothing more than to speak up and put the bastard in his place, right before beating the absolute shit out of him, though you knew that would come in due time, for now all you could do was finish this fucking mission.

"She won't be a problem."

Kozlov laughed, knowing he was getting under James' skin. He stood from the armchair and nodded towards Bucky, the smile sinking, trying to look intimidating, despite the fact that he was practically less than half the size of Bucky, "Make your payment."

Bucky pulled a phone from his pocket, sending a single word in a text and waiting for the confirmation only seconds later, before tucking it away again, "Payment made."

Daniel looked over at a man sat in the corner with a laptop and when he nodded, he turned back to look at Bucky, his hand sneaking into his own pocket and pulling out a hard drive, handing it to Bucky before taking a step back and looking you up and down.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

You swallowed your irritation, narrowly avoiding the urge to roll your eyes at the way he was eyeing you like a piece of meat, Bucky opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a glare.

"I asked the wife, not you. Name?" He spoke through gritted teeth, obviously quick to anger, and you fought back the urge to fucking bitch slap him, take the dagger from your thigh and press it to his neck, but you were sticking to the deer in headlights act.

"Lucille."

A smirk overtook his face, a healed scar on his cheek stretching as he did so, "Pretty name for a pretty thing."

At this point, Bucky was squeezing your hand so hard again, your fingers were starting to go numb, the rings he was wearing digging uncomfortably into your skin, but you didn't pull away, instead, you returned the tight grip to try to reassure him.

Taking a step closer to you, Daniel Kozlov lifted his hand to your cheek, making you flinch slightly and you clenched your jaw when the back of his hand caressed your cheek, his skin ice-cold against yours.

"I happen to collect pretty things."

Bucky felt sick to his stomach, knowing that he couldn't do anything besides stand there and watch, stepping out of line in any way would end in a fight, and he knew he couldn't risk lives, or the mission.

A part of you was expecting him to backhand you, but he never did Instead, he touched your cheek for a while longer, glancing over at Bucky with a smile before he took a step away from you and laughed at the murderous look Bucky was trying to hide, he knew that Bucky was in a position where there wasn't much he could do to stop him, and he openly mocked him for it, "I could take her off your hands for the night for you, teach her some manners. Maybe she'll learn to answer her superiors quickly, when they ask her a question."

"Not necessary." Bucky's voice was scarily even, but his jaw was aching from how hard he was grinding his teeth together and he started pulling you closer to him, shooting Kozlov a dangerous glare, "I think it's time we leave."

"Of course, of course. No doubt you need to get her to bed."

Bucky ignored his words and turned, pushing his way past the bodyguards and pulling you along by your hand, making you stumble in your heels.

"James." You called out as you tried to catch up with him. His grip on your hand was starting to hurt again but he kept walking with intent, pulling you out of the grand doors at the entrance to the hall and towards the expensive car you had arrived in.

He handed the driver a wad of cash and told him to leave, giving him a silent glare which obviously meant 'fuck off' when the guy hesitated.

As Bucky pulled open the passenger seat door and helped you into the car, you glared at him, though when he ducked his head into the car and leant over you to put your seatbelt on for you, the intensity behind the glare faded and you were left just staring wide eyed at him, and instead of yelling at him and telling him that you were perfectly capable of doing your own seatbelt, you were lost for words with how close his body was to yours, his breath fanning against your bare shoulder.

You could only breathe when he pulled away and slammed the door shut, rounding the car to get into the driver's seat, not sparing you another glance as he turned on the engine and put the car into gear, speeding off into the city.

his frustration and anger filled the space with tension.

"Bucky, you need to calm down," You tried but he continued to ignore you, one hand on the gear stick and the other gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. You sighed, his frustration and anger filled the space with tension, and you concluded that he was a grown man who could calm himself down.

You dropped your head against the seat as you focused on the view outside your window, the lights of the city burning bright against the night sky.

You glanced at the side-view mirror, and rolled your eyes when you realised it was the same car that was behind you when you left the party, "We're being followed."

Bucky's hearing was obviously working. When he heard what you said, his eyes lifted to the rear-view mirror and he sighed heavily, "Fuck."

"Where are we gonna go? None of the safehouses are fancy enough for Mr and Mrs Walter."

"We'll have to go to a hotel, they shouldn't give us any trouble unless we seem suspicious. There's no way Kozlov would have us killed immediately after a sale, too risky," You nod at his words, knowing that Bucky was an expert at things like this due to his past with Hydra, he knew how men like Kozlov worked, how their brains ticked, and you trusted him completely. "Okay, I know where to go." He said as you kept an eye on the car, taking note of the plate number and trying to get a view of the person driving it, "Text Nat with the burner in my pocket, tell her we'll be at The Pierre, tell her to bring backup just in case but keep them minimally armed, it's just a precaution."

You sigh again, looking away from the car behind you and back to Bucky, "Which pocket?"

"Inside pocket, left side."

You nibbled on your lower lip as you reached over to him, and he tilted his body to you slightly in assistance. Bucky gulped, and you blushed as your hands brushed against his shirt when you reached into his suit jacket, searching for the pocket.

His body was incredibly warm and it only made you want to draw out the situation even longer as Bucky fought to keep his concentration on the road and the car behind, but eventually, your fingers brushed against the phone and you hesitantly pulled it out and sat back in your seat, a long exhale coming from him as you did so and he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, shooting you a quick glance, his gaze falling to how exposed your thigh had become with the movement, though he tore his eyes away quickly.

You slipped the phone back into Bucky's pocket once you had received Natasha's quick response, and Bucky pulled up to the hotel. You watched in quiet amusement as the man following parked not-so-discreetly, a bit further down the street.

"Remember who your playing." Bucky shot you a final glance as he turned off the ignition and got out of the car, straightening out his suit jacket as he walked to the passenger side and pulled open the door, offering his arm to you and helping you out of the car.

You hated how real it all felt, him doting on you when you were trying desperately hard to convince yourself it was an act, but you still wrapped both your hands around his arm, draping yourself against his side as you walked towards the entrance, telling yourself that you did it only for the upkeep of the ruse.

The tension between you was undeniable as Bucky looked down at you, his expression serious, but not stern, only intense.

"James? Are we going in?" You asked, using his fake yet real name and it seemed to wake him from his daze, nodding as he reminded himself of his surroundings and the man now wandering closer to them, his phone to his ear, though he didn't speak into it.

"Course, doll. Just admiring my wife's beauty in the city lights."

Your mouth fell open slightly at his words but he didn't give you much time to react before he was walking you into the hotel, and you were thankful that he wasn't dragging you this time.

Bucky didn't waste any time, quickly moving to one of the people running the front desk and glaring down at him.

"Name?"

"James Walter," He spoke and the man nodded, typing something out on his computer before handing Bucky a black key-card, giving him a fearful smile.

Stepping away from the front desk, Bucky moved to your left as he discreetly put his hand into his pocket and slipped the burner phone into your hand, and you switched the phone into your right hand once you realised his plan, tossing the phone into the garbage bag on the back of a janitors cart before walking into the elevator.

You sighed heavily as you both finally entered the hotel room, trudging to the bed in the middle of the giant room and collapsing on it as Bucky started scoping out the room, quickly checking the bathroom and shutting all the curtains.

"We're going to have to stay here all night, aren't we? That guy isn't gonna go anywhere." You sighed, closing your eyes as you sunk into the mattress.

"One bed." Bucky said, and you peaked your eyes open one at a time, moving your gaze to the man now slouched in the armchair tucked into the corner of the large room, still looking beyond annoyed.

"Huh?"

His jaw ticked in annoyance as his head fell back against the chair, "There's only one bed."

Oh.

"Oh," You sat up on the bed, looking around the room awkwardly.

You didn't really want to think about what that could mean, it either formed butterflies in your stomach, or disappointment.

He didn't have to act so upset about it.

"Is it that bad?" You scoffed, half joking, half serious, and Bucky lifted his head, his eyes widening, lips parted.

"No, that's not what I-" He cut himself off, sighing and furrowing his eyebrows, looking guilty, "Sorry. I'm just so fucking annoyed."

You smiled and nodded, "I know, me too. We're one step closer to getting this guy though, Buck."

He nodded too, eyes closing again, his jaw unclenching, finding some kind of relief in your words.

"We don't have to share if you don't want, but I'm okay with it if you are. I trust you. Plus, we've fallen asleep on the couch together before, can't be that much different." You shrugged, acting nonchalant, although you felt extremely not, as you stood up, sick of the feeling of your knife's handle digging uncomfortably in your skin.

You pulled your skirt up to expose your other thigh, lifting your right foot to rest on the bed, while making sure not to flash Bucky in the process as you pull the dagger out, throwing it back on the bed, leaving the garter on for now.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight, watching as your dagger glided against the skin of your thigh as you removed it from yourself, tossing it onto the white bed sheets before dropping your foot back to the floor.

"No it's... I don't- uh." He trailed off, losing his train of thought, obviously distracted.

You looked at him, eyes dropping to follow the movement of his tongue wetting his lips, and you knew you'd never get the sight of him right now out of your mind. His legs were spread, sitting comfortably in the chair, one of his arms draped over the arm of the chair, while he rested his elbow with the other one, holding his head up with his thumb and index finger on the side of his tilted head.

He regarded you silently, his eyes dazed, and you wondered if it could possibly be because he was feeling the same exact way as you right now.

Bucky was struggling to think straight, scrunching his face up in frustration when he finally snapped out of his daze, the frustration completely different to what he was feeling before, now he just couldn't get the image of your thighs out of his mind, or the black thigh garter you still wore under your dress.

God, you drive him fucking crazy.

You chewed the inside of your cheek when he sighed again, "Buck, you need to chill out. I know Kozlov is a fucking asshole, but we expected that. We got the mission done with no big issues."

He stared up at the ceiling, feeling so guilty that he was looking at you that way, thinking about you in that way, especially after the reminder of Kozlov and how undoubtedly uncomfortable he must've made you feel.

"I know, I just hate feeling powerless. That prick was touching you and saying horrible shit and I just stood there-"

"Bucky."

He huffed a breath and opened his eyes, only to be met with the beautiful sight of you stood before him, only a few feet away, your dress clinging to all the right places and your eyes locked to his and he felt a familiar heat stirring up inside him again. He stared up at you as if you were a heaven-sent angel.

The tension in the room was so thick, and you both knew why, though neither of you had the guts to admit, nor say anything about it.

Your intentions were pure at first, and for some reason, on the way towards where he was sitting, you never thought about the very un-pure version of your actions until you were stood in front of him, barely thinking about it when you sunk to your knees before him, your hands resting just above his knees on his spread legs.

At first, you told yourself it was because you wanted to talk to him properly, make sure he was okay, and that included you being on his level physically, but now you realised it was mostly because you so desperately wanted to see him like this, his gaze heated, looking down at you between his thighs with parted lips.

It didn't matter that you were the one on your knees, you'd never felt more powerful.

His gaze was unwavering, the intense, lustful look in his eyes alone had you clenching your thighs together as you thought about your next move, and Bucky lifted one of his hands towards your face, brushing the back of his fingers down your cheek, just as Kozlov had done earlier, though this touch was completely different, and your eyes fluttered shut, a sigh escaping you as his fingers caressed your cheek, ridding the memory of Kozlov's cold skin against yours with his soft, warm touch, and you pulled your eyes open to meet his again, lifting your hand to take hold of his.

You looked down at the rings he was wearing, one on almost each finger, apparently it was a common style choice from James Walter, and it wasn't the first time tonight that you'd silently thanked the dead mobster for that fact.

They'd been catching your eye all night, and you lifted his knuckles to your lips, placing a kiss against the smooth metal of the first one on his index finger, and then the next one, and the next.

Bucky watched you kiss his rings, his eyes darkening with every touch of your soft lips to his knuckles, so entranced by you, slowly sinking further into the seat, melting with each touch.

He couldn't think of any repercussions right now, couldn't think of a single reason to stop you, all he could think about was what you were doing to him right now, and where these actions could lead you, and his pants were getting tighter by the second.

You met his eyes with your lips still on his knuckles, and you both immediately knew what this was, where this could be going, and that the thick tension between you, was sexual tension like no other.

Bucky's heart must've stopped when you opened his fist and slipped his index and middle finger past your lips, enveloping them in the hot, wetness of your mouth, your soft tongue circling over his digits, sucking on them, He couldn't help but groan, leaning his head back, though still keeping his half-lidded eyes on you.

"Fuck, doll. So fuckin' gorgeous."

You weren't thinking straight, you must not've been, because why the hell would you be doing this, why was it something you didn't even have to question, why did it feel so natural, and so fucking right.

The words that slipped past his lips were doing things to you, and the way that his fingers pressed down on your tongue slightly, but weren't nearly as heavy against it as something else you wanted on your tongue would be, you were a goner, and your underwear was already soaked.

You pulled his fingers from your mouth but kept hold of them as you crawled onto his lap, his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you to him, his lips so close to yours you were sharing breath.

Slowly, you guided his fingers down, sliding them under the slit in your dress to bring them to your covered core, watching his facial expression intently, watching for any sign of discomfort.

There was none, and his breath caught in his throat when his fingers made contact, the heat of you radiating against his hand, he could already feel how wet you are.

"Fuck." He breathed, eyebrows furrowing, forehead resting on yours, "You sure about this sweetheart? You want me to touch you?"

You nodded immediately, biting your lower lip, pressing his hand against you harder, "Yes. Are you sure?"

He nodded back, "Never been more sure about anything in my fuckin' life."

You moaned when he finally started moving his fingers, circling your clit gently over your underwear, though with enough pressure to give some sort of relief, but it was when he pulled your panties aside, and dipped his fingers into your wetness, spreading your folds and gathering your slick, before pressing his fingers against your clit and rubbing you in tighter circles, that you were a mess in his lap.

"Bucky-" You whimpered, rolling your hips slightly, and he licked his lips again, nudging his nose against yours, wanting so desperately to kiss you, but also not wanting to miss a single expression you made, he wanted to watch you fall apart under his touch, again, and again, and again.

"You know something, sweetheart?" He asked, waiting for confirmation that you were paying attention to him before continuing.

You rolled your hips again, staring into his eyes, moaning out in pleasure, "What?"

"You drove me fucking crazy tonight, every time you touched me, every time you looked at me- God, whenever you said my name- I'd never heard you call me that before, my first name, fuck I don't ever want to stop hearin' you callin' me that."

His words made you dizzy, the confirmation that he'd felt the same as you all night, the confession that he loved it when you called him 'James' just as much as you loved calling him it, you were sinking deeper and deeper into this feeling, that this moment couldn't be more right, more necessary, like you'd both been needing this for months now.

By the time he had finished talking, he had slowed his touch to a complete stop, and dipped his fingers lower, pushing them inside you.

You gasped, he groaned, and when he curled them, finding that sweet spot inside you and pushing against it perfectly, you cried out, dropping your forehead to his shoulder and tucking your face in his neck.

He didn't let up with his gentle thrusting, and the insistent rubbing against that spongy spot inside of your cunt. He used his free hand to move your head from his shoulder, leaning himself forward slightly, holding you closer, and finally kissing you.

You whimpered and moaned against his lips, though returned the kiss passionately, both of your hands in his hair, your tongue gliding against his own.

This was unlike any experience you'd ever had, every touch dialled up to 100.

He used his thumb to rub your clit, still curling and rubbing his fingers against your walls, and when you started to clench down on him, he pulled back from the kiss.

"C'mon, kitten, cum on my fingers like a good girl." He purred, and your head tilted back, moaning as you came, your orgasm only spurred on quicker by his words.

"James-" You whimpered, his touch not letting up as he pleasured you through your orgasm, though when you were through most of it, you crashed your lips to his.

You kissed until you ran out of breath, doing exactly what you had wanted to do earlier, what you had wanted to do for months. Bucky gently eased his fingers out of you, and when you tucked your face in his neck again, catching your breath, you could tell he was sucking them clean, moaning at the taste of you.

It was quiet for a moment between you, only the gentle sound of your slightly laboured breath filling the space, Bucky held you close to him, his fingers gently tracing up and down your spine through the fabric of your dress, you gave a pleased hum and kissed his neck, just above his collar.

It didn't matter that you'd just barely come down from an orgasm, you needed more, you needed him.

"James." You whispered against his neck, just below his ear and he just about melted into the chair beneath you, humming to let you know he was listening, though you didn't say anything else, a part of you just wanted to say his name again, and to feel his pleased reaction to it.

His body was so warm under yours, but there were far too many layers of fabric between you and him and you desperately wanted to fix that, 'adjusting' yourself on his lap just so you could provide some friction between you, biting your lip and sighing into his ear when you felt how hard he was beneath you, he groaned and gripped your hips tightly.

"I wanna feel you inside me, James." Your voice was as sweet as sugar, breath warm against his skin, and your heated core was seated just above where his hard cock was pressing tightly against his pants, throbbing with every small movement you made.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He husked, no doubt sounding like a broken record, though he didn't care much about that, not when you were pressing yourself against him like that, slowly rocking in his lap, not when he could still faintly taste you in his mouth from where he had sucked his fingers clean, not with your mouth on his neck, whispering dirty things.

You kissed the hinge of his jaw, then ghosted your lips lower, pressing a kiss just below his ear, before making your way to the other side, leaving sweet kisses as you went.

You met his eye as you traced your hand up his black shirt, watching his expression as you slowly loosened his tie, and popped the top button open, and then the next, giving yourself better access to the skin there, kissing below his Adam's apple.

"C'mon, Buck. You wanna fuck me?" You asked, looking up at him through your lashes this time, teasing him with a smirk.

He bit his lip, holding your cheek in his palm, thumb swiping across your cheekbone, his eyes darting across your face, taking in every detail he could while he was so close to you.

So pretty.

"I do, of course I do, doll." He said back, his eyes following the movement of his thumb against soft skin. You could sense the 'but' coming, "But... I don't think we should-"

"Bucky." You interrupted, stopping what you know would've become this huge, self-doubting, self-sabotaging speech, and he met your eyes again, sighing slightly, his head tilted, "If we both want this, then why can't we have it?"

He didn't know what to say, he couldn't imagine a world were someone would really want him, as he was, much less a smart, loving and kind, beautiful girl like yourself. He believed you when you said you wanted this, but was still unsure if you would really want him, want him beyond this moment.

"If we go further, I'll never be able to get enough of you." He spoke quietly, this moment between you was so intimate, which was something he'd not experienced in decades. It was terrifying, but so perfect, so right. 

"You have all of me, Bucky. I want you, not just tonight. I've wanted you for months, honey, and if you want me too then what have we got to lose? You can have me whenever you need me, whenever you want me, I'm yours, yours now, yours tomorrow. If you need a hug," You wrapped your arms around his neck as you spoke and held him tighter, "If you need a kiss," You pressed your lips to his, "If you need a release; I'll be there, because you have me, always have."

By the time you were just halfway into your speech, Bucky was a puddle, his brain short-circuiting, his heart beating much faster than it should be with him just sitting, and his whole world view collapsing.

You were his.

You wanted to be his.

He was yours completely.

He surged forward to press his lips to yours, and kissed you for a long moment, using his tongue to memorise the feel of your mouth, the heat of your own tongue against his, and he stood as he kissed you, holding you in his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He carried you with such ease and sat down on the edge of the huge bed, not once breaking the kiss, or putting an ounce space between your bodies.

You helped him to shrug off his suit jacket, tossing it to the floor as if it didn't probably cost hundreds of dollars, and deft fingers quickly reached to undo his tie.

The tie was silky and smooth, and your imagination was bright with ideas, the image of Bucky fucking you, with your hands tied above your head, or maybe tying Bucky up just the same, kissing his cock teasingly, without letting him touch you.

You tabled the ideas for now, tossing the tie aside.

You could experiment with him in due time, for now you just wanted to be able to touch him as much as possible.

You were both still enraptured in the kiss when Bucky stood again, this time turning around, and laying you down on the mattress, pressing himself against you as he placed one last kiss on your lips, and pulled back to admire the sight of you, blushing with kiss-bitten lips as you lay beneath him.

He traced his hands down your body and stood at the end of the bed, his shirt almost halfway undone.

His fingers glided down your legs, and ended at your ankles as he eyed the strappy heals you wore, admiring how beautiful you looked in them. He imagined keeping them on you, stripping you down and bending you over the closest surface, whilst still wearing the heels, maybe keeping on the thigh-garter too, but he wanted you comfortable, and he wanted you naked.

Gently, he undid the strap on one of your heels, and slowly pulled it off, before doing the same to the other one.

He kept glancing up at you as he did so, watching you so intently, he didn't dare miss a single moment, a single change in your expression.

His hands traced back up your legs, this time, he kissed his way up too, kissing you ankle, your shin, just below the garter.

He stopped himself though, and looked you in the eyes, that serious look returning, "Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes. Please, James."

He smirked, he couldn't not, and his hand drifted to your hip, squeezing there, before using both his hands to flip you over, leaning over you and pressing his hand against your back.

You gasped in surprise, and then felt his fingers against the zip of the dress, his breath against the nape of your neck.

"Should we take this off?" He asked sweetly, and you nodded silently, your voice trapped in your throat, that cocky, dominant persona you had taken on earlier apparently about to be fucked out of you. You couldn't wait.

He flipped you back over to help ease the dress off, leaving you only in a lacy pair of underwear, your chest exposed to him, and once the dress was on the floor, and Bucky allowed himself the chance to finally look at you, he groaned roughly, draping his body over yours and reaching up to caress your breasts, watching as his thumb traced over the hardened peaks of your nipples, "So fucking gorgeous."

Your hands were in his hair, back arching into his touch when he took your nipple into his mouth, paying attention to the other one with his fingers, and as much as you were enjoying it, he was still wearing way too much, and you put your fingers under his chin, pulling his mouth away from you.

He kissed you as you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it off, quickly followed by his pants and soon you were both left in your underwear.

You pushed at his shoulder, and he eventually got the memo, and rolled aside, letting you sit on top of him, carefully moving the dagger you had left on the bed onto the bedside table.

When you pulled back from the kiss, he continued to kiss down your chest, but your eyes drifted to the hand he had on your waist, the left one, that still looked like skin even though it wasn't.

You had almost completely forgotten about it, it felt just like skin, was warm like skin, and looked unbelievably life-like, but there was something about it that you really didn't like, it wasn't him, it might've been once, but as Bucky has told you before, he's not been the man he was back in the 40s in over seventy years, and he probably wouldn't ever be him again, which you reminded him was okay, that he didn't owe Steve the version of himself that Bucky thought he would need.

You knew about the struggles Bucky has had with his metal arm, the history that there is behind it, and the hatred he had for it when he was first rehabilitated. You didn't want this impressive Stark invention to become something he used to hide this part of himself, against the needs of his own healing.

You started at his left shoulder, and traced your fingers down the arm, stopping at the silver watch on his wrist, and Bucky stopped kissing you, watching you, waiting.

"Is it the watch?" You asked, and he hesitated, before nodding.

"You don't have to take it off."

You paused, looking down at him, he looked slightly uncomfortable, and you needed to change that.

"I'd like to take it off. Do you want to leave it on?"

He was quiet for a moment, thinking about your question. It made him uncomfortable, seeing the uncanny, flesh arm in place of the metal one he knew was there, and to see a human arm, yet not be able to really feel the touch of your skin against it, only pressure and heat. He didn't like it.

He shook his head, and you smiled, kissing him again as you carefully undid the watch with your mouth still on his, pulling back to see his metal arm visible again, and you intertwined your fingers with his, metal against skin.

You did the same with his other hand, intertwining your fingers, before lifting them both above his head, pressing them into the mattress. You knew he could very easily break out of your grasp, but that didn't make the sight any less pleasing.

You rocked your hips against his, just as you did before, and he groaned, lifting his own hips, seeking more friction.

Reluctantly, you released his hands, and quickly took off your underwear, leaving you naked above him, before you took his off too.

You couldn't possibly be any wetter, your inner thighs a mess of slick as you watched his cock slap against his stomach, painfully hard and leaking at the tip.

"Fuck, James. D'you know how beautiful you are?" You asked, slowly touching the underside of his cock, tracing an enticing vein, before gripping him in your hand and squeezing him.

A moan slipped past his lips, hips lifting from the bed again.

He shook his head in response to you, smiling, "Do you know how beautiful you are?"

He flipped you both over again, his hands tracing your body, lingering in certain areas, squeezing your breasts, caressing your stomach, lifting your thigh to rest on his hip, dipping between your legs to press down on your clit, "You're fuckin' breathtaking, doll, and so fucking wet."

He gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, and dipped them back into his mouth again for a taste, moaning around them.

"I wanna eat you so bad, kitten." He lowered himself to you, resting on his elbows on either side of your head, kissing your neck.

"Later. I need you inside me, James." You pressed your core against him, and he nodded, reaching between the two of you to line himself up, slowly easing inside.

You both moaned as he slid inside you, Bucky's eyes fluttering shut, savouring the sensation whilst trying desperately hard not to give in to the urge to immediately bury himself at the hilt, and fuck you without a moments hesitation.

His hips twitched, cock throbbing inside of you, both of you were so desperate for this, and when he finally pulled his hips back, and rolled them back to yours, it was relief like no other.

His first few thrusts were slower, so enraptured by how you felt around him, hot and wet, and fucking perfect. Eventually, he started to speed up, but favoured fucking you harder, rather than faster. He didn't want this to end too quickly.

You were sprawled beneath him, biting your lower lip and moaning with every stroke of his cock against your walls, his body completely draped over yours so with every roll of his hips, his pelvis stimulated your clit. When he started to fuck you harder, repeatedly hitting a spot deep inside you that made you see stars, you were crying out in pleasure, already feeling close to another orgasm.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good, y'know that? I'm never gonna get enough of this, gonna want to fuck you all the time, 'm never gonna think of anything else." His forehead was resting on your shoulder, one of his hands on your stomach as his other held him up on the bed, "I want you to be mine. Mine to fuck, mine to kiss, mine every minute of the day. God, I want everyone to know, sweetheart, want them to know you're James' girl."

You were moaning with every word, nodding along, whining when his hand drifted lower, his thumb hovering over your clit, but staying completely still, teasing you.

Your heart was so full, just like your cunt, and you hoped to god he'd follow through on his promises, you needed to be his, just as much as you needed him to be yours.

"James, please." You begged, arching your back into him, and he lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you, smiling with a shake of his head.

"You beg real pretty, doll, but you can do better than that. Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

Your eyes practically rolled back, fuck, you loved hearing him talk like this, "I want to cum, please."

He nodded, leaning in close to you, "You want to cum? I'll let you cum, princess."

He began to rub your clit in steady circles, keeping up a steady rhythm that dragged you so close to release.

"C'mon, come for me, sweetheart."

Your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm rushed over you, and you gripped Bucky's hair tighter, your cunt clenching around him sending him head first into his own orgasm, his hips stuttering against yours as he came inside you, filling you up with his seed.

His forehead was pressed to yours, both of you slowly coming down from your high, and Bucky waited till you'd caught your breath to lean down and kiss you, slower this time, savouring the taste of you as best he could.

You kissed him back eagerly, aftershocks of your orgasm washing over you and making you clench down on him, still inside of you. Bucky groaned into your mouth, before he hesitantly broke the kiss, and leaned back to slide out of you.

"Fuck, sweetheart, such a fucking mess we made." He breathed roughly, glancing down between your legs, watching his cum seep out of you, so turned on by the filthy sight, before looking up at you again, tracing his eyes up your body, completely bared to him. He took in every detail, and smiled at your flushed cheeks, "You're so fucking beautiful."

You smiled back at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your legs around him and reached out, pulling him back down to you to nudge your nose against his, watching the way his nose scrunched up when he smiled, "So are you."

He huffed a laugh and kissed you, before burying his face into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around you and holding you as close to him as possible, practically laying completely on top of you, though he held most of his own weight. As much as you would completely, happily welcome the weight of him on top of you, you also know that breathing is kind of a necessary thing to survive... sadly.

"We need to shower." He murmured against your skin, rubbing his stubbly jaw against your shoulder.

You hummed and nodded, raking your nails across the surface of his back.

"We should probably talk too." He followed, keeping his face hidden from your sight.

"We should, but I don't think there's much to talk about that we haven't already. We both want each other, and not just physically."

He lifted his head and gazed down at you, his expression vulnerable, more vulnerable than you'd ever seen him, even with him naked above you, "So... like lovers?"

You smiled at the old-fashioned term, much preferring it to boyfriend and girlfriend, and you nodded, gently brushing hair from his face, "I'd love that, Buck, if you want that too?"

"Yes, I want that, so much."

"Good, let's make it official then."

He nodded smiling down at you, before he stood from the bed, and he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to the hotel en-suite like he had carried you to the bed earlier.

"You're my girl now, sweetheart." He whispered to your ear, loving the way it sounded on his lips.

"And you're my guy." You replied, kissing his nose.

"Sure am." He smiled proudly, setting you down on the bathroom sink as he turned the shower on, before he turned back to you, leaning on his hands, which rested either side of you, "I will be taking you out on a date when we get back, just so you know."

"I can't wait, baby."

[tonycries]

After reading your ever single one the writing I have one question.

How long do you think the jjk men are? As in there length

WELL....why stop at analyzing only length? 👀👀👀

Toji - oh god, man is thick. One of the thickest here fr. Uncut. I'm thinkinggg about 8.5 inches but he says he's 9 - either way OUCH 🤕 Such a pretty creamy color, too, and so VEINY. Probably super unruly with his pubes and you'd have to 😈convince😈 him to shave it off if you wanted otherwize.

Nanami - PHEWWWWW BIG D IN THE HOUSE 😈😈 I say a good 8.6 inches and the moment he spots your pretty wedding band while pushing you into the meanest mating press then he can probably go for 9 😳 Cut, shaved, and pretty - the tips of his ears blush the same coral pink as his tip.

Geto - OUUUU so he's another thick one - double c's n' all. Probably about 7.8 - 8 inches and erm...pierced 😩 A pretty studded Prince Albert's, and he's so girthy that Geto has to have you toy with him to actually see it. Probably uncut and slightly on the unruly side like Toji but not as much, he just doesn't care too much for it when leading a cult and serving evil cunt ykyk 😔

Choso - HMHMHMMMM now either he's 7.2 inches or fucking 11 👀 Your pick 👀 Genuinely wonder what magic he could do with that cursed technique of his oml 😩 Uncut and blushes such a pretty strawberry pink - but I think he'd be pretty unruly after being kept in a jar for 150 years so. Deffo shaves and tidies himself up in an instant if you ask!!

Sukuna - girl....RIP that pussy 🤕 You think he'd be seven feet tall and NOT have a monster cock - I'm sorry but man is probably around 13 inches on both cocks 🤕🤕 YEOWCH 💀 Doesn't care too much for manscaping but- honestly- do you even have time to worry? Worry about your internal organs.

Ino - around 6.9 (hehe) to 7.1 inches and pretty UGH we have another pretty boy 😩 Not overly on the girthy side, but Ino's special power is in the way he's curved - just the exact few degrees upwards to bruise your g-spot like no other 💯 Shaved and cut I'd say and he probably thought about getting it pierced to make you feel better (awwww bby) <333

Gojo - don't even ask about his dick because he's got one to match that stupid ego of his ☹ Smh about 9.4 inches mayhaps, and cut. Not especially girthy but you know damn well he's making use of that length RIP 💀 Spends some of the most time keeping his happy trail n' his pubes kempt and oooo he's probably the one that gets the reddest of them all 😋 Like those strawberry lollies he steals from you 😋

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part eleven

authors note: hi! i'm super sorry for the cliffhanger! i just have this thing where i need sections to be cohesive, and this chapter is much heavier than the previous, so i didn't wanna boggle ya'll down with all that angst!

i've also been thinking about the length of this story. currently, in terms of story timeline, we're at the very end of december 23', and i have ideas for up to may 24'. well, beyond that, but i don't want things to get stale, so i can end it around that time or keep it going? just curious because i don't want it to play out so long that it bores anyone. if that makes sense. just lmk.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angsttttt (parental neglect, abandonment, trauma) language, alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, some fluff

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 6.2k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

You knew as soon as he walked in that something was up.

In getting to know Joe, you’d also learned that he was, surprisingly, on the quiet side. He spoke with you, of course, but you learned he leaned more towards introverted than extroverted. It was kind of sweet and pretty surprising. But, you’d also learned there was a difference between him being his sometimes quiet self and when something was off, and something was definitely off.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to fuck it out of you?” He rolls his eyes, not even showing any excitement at the idea of fucking you. Yeah, something was definitely wrong. “Seriously, what’s up?”

He shrugs, playing it off clearly. “Just tired. Back to back matches.” 

That's when you realize what it is. “You’re hurt, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, dismissively, and you cross your arms. “Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“Take it off, or I’ll climb your big ass and take it off myself.” Joe blows out a breath. He has to know you’re dead serious. So, wordlessly, he lifts his shirt over his head and turns around. 

You gasp almost immediately. “What the actual fuck?” Your hand reaches to touch him, but you stop yourself, knowing that his skin must be sensitive to the touch. His back is inflamed, red welts spread in different areas with a nasty bruise that looks like a borderline hematoma and other various cuts. 

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Shaking your head, you point to your room. “Go sit and wait for me on the bed.” He opens his mouth, and you lift a finger. “I don’t want to hear it. Get in there now.”

Surprisingly, he follows suit, and you start to move about, gathering the necessary supplies. Along the way, you experience a plethora of emotions but mostly bounce back and forth between irritation and concern. 

You’re irritated that he didn’t just come out and say that he was hurt. You’re also concerned because he’s obviously in pain, and that bothers you. He doesn’t have to be, he didn’t have to be if he just said something. 

Stubborn asshole. 

With everything needed and placed in a cloth bag, you walk into your room and stretch your hand out to him. “Take this.”

Joe looks down at your open palm with a single pink pill. “What the hell is it?”

“Coke,” you answer with a straight face. Rolling your eyes, you answer, “Benadryl. It’ll help with the inflammation of the welts.”

“It’ll also knock me out.”

“We’ll we’re obviously not fucking with your back all messed up, so what else are you going to do?”

“Who said we can’t fuck?”

You sigh. “Joe, if you don’t just take this goddamn pill. With your size, you probably should take two, but I’m trying to be nice by only giving you one, so accept my kindness and swallow this damn pill or I’ll shove it down your throat.” 

He sucks his teeth but also takes the pill from you followed by the water bottle tucked under your arm. “You’re a terrible nurse.”

“And you’re an awful patient. At least we’re both on the same page.” You wait for him to swallow it before taking the bottle from him. “Good, now lay on your stomach.”

He lifts his brow, asking, “why?”

“Oh my god, you’re as bad as my students.” Men when they’re sick or not feeling well are a special kind of torture you’re not sure why exactly you’re subjecting yourself to right now. “Just do it, please. I’m trying to help you here.”

He just looks at you, as if he has something else to say, probably so. But, he surprises you by staying silent and following your instructions. 

Pleased, you climb on top of him, sitting on his ass to avoid irritating his already sensitive skin. “Okay, now this may hurt a little bit at first—”

He makes a sound underneath you. “Can’t hurt anymore than it already does.”

“If you had said something sooner, I could have helped you before now,” you scold, dropping the bag on the bed beside ya’ll. Men and their tendency to downplay pain will never cease to amaze you. The minute you start getting hit with cramps, you pop an ibuprofen.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“You’re in pain. That’s always a big deal.” Pulling out the ointment, you dab enough to your hand and start carefully massaging it into the welts. He hisses at your touch and you murmur an apology but don’t stop. It’s short term discomfort for long term benefits. 

“What is this?” He asks.

“Calamine lotion,” you answer, adding on. “I have hydrocortisone too, but my grandma always said calamine works just as well without getting into your bloodstream. Don’t know how true it is, but it always worked for me, so it’ll work for you.”

He chuckles. “She sounded fun.”

Instantly, a smile is on your face as you continue to treat him. “Always. Summers with her were always the highlight of my year.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, and you continue to work the lotion into his skin. Once pleased with the application, you move on to the next part. “Alright, I’m gonna apply some cold compresses. You’ll probably be out in another 20 minutes, so just leave em’ on, and I’ll come change em’ out while you’re sleeping.”

When he doesn’t push back, you pull the compresses out of your bag and strategically place them on different areas of his back to maximize the comfort. Once finished, you climb off of him and go to close up the blinds and curtains. “Alright, get some rest.” 

You’re at the doorway when he says your name. “Yeah?”

A slight delay before he says, genuinely, “thank you.” 

There’s something meaningful beyond just the obvious, and it brings a small smile to your face. Not that he can see that. So you settle on, “of course. You’re no good to me if you can’t fuck me.”

He laughs, loudly. “Shut up.”

Smile widening, you close the door.  ________

Joe finds you a couple hours later in the kitchen, but it’s the state of you that gives him a pause and brings a smile to his face.

You’re dancing around, clad in one of his shirts and short shorts that your ass swallows up. Brief glimpses of your side profile reveal that you’re singing too, just in a low enough voice, probably not to disturb you. 

He doesn’t know the specific song, but the voice is familiar enough for him to know it’s Taylor Swift. That definitely surprises him, though it shouldn’t. You have a weird ass taste in music to where he’s found you in the shower listening to some random rock song, other times, it was throwback R&B.

You were just so….different from anyone he’s ever known. 

It’s one of the many reasons he’s so enamored with you.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

'Cause I see sparks fly, whenever you smile

It’s when you turn around, mid bite on a cookie that you finally notice his presence, smiling. “Hey. You’re up.”

“I am.” He nods, walking over to you. He gestures around the kitchen. “What is all this?” 

You finish chewing and swallow before directing Alexa to pause the music. “Well, I finished my lesson planning and was bored, so I decided to bake. But then I got hungry for actual food, so I ordered takeout.”

“And the music?”

You shrug, taking another bite of your cookie. “I like the song. Don’t worry, it’s the only Taylor Swift song allowed in this African American household.”

He laughs and moves past you when you take the chance to assess his back, immediately noticing how the swelling and redness have decreased. “How you feeling?”

“Better,” he answers, moving to the cartons, seeing that you made sure to order his favorites as well. “Thanks again.”

Smirking, you climb on the island, locking your ankles together. “Not so terrible nurse after all then, huh?”

“Your bedside manners still suck.” 

“Shut up.” You watch him fix his food and when he gets ready to sit down on a bar stool, you hop off the counter, prompting, “come with me.”

“Where?”

“All these damn questions….” Grabbing a couple of cookies and placing them in a bowl, you find your sandals and slide them on your feet. “Just come on.”

“Let me at least put a shirt on.”

“Absolutely not. You need to let your skin breathe,” you lecture, taking him in, all of him. “Trust me, no one’s gonna see us, and even if they did, who the hell would complain about you being shirtless?”

Snatching the keys off the table, you open the door, allowing him to walk out first. You start to leave your door unlocked but decide against it. It’s an extremely safe town, but there’s always a first time for everything. 

Locking it, you motion for him to follow you up the two sets of steps until reaching the heavy door that you turn the knob left and then right in order to open it. Joe’s immediately hit with a nice breeze and diminishing sunlight as the evening sets in.

“Come on,” you usher him to follow you to your favorite spot, sitting down and patting down on the ground next to you.

Joe chuckles, following suit. “Seriously?”

You ignore him, pushing on his shoulder as he brings his plate in front of him to eat. “I like to come out here sometimes to just get away. Especially if I need to clear my head. My grandma used to always say the closer you are to Heaven, the clearer you can hear God’s voice.”

He just watches you, the way the wind blows at your curls, making them splash at your face. Everything about you has always been stunning to him, but in this moment where you sit so relaxed and unbothered, he’s never thought you looked more beautiful. 

“Plus, you obviously need to clear your head to bounce back from that ass whooping,” you snort, taking another bite of your cookie. One look at Joe’s scowl makes you giggle. “On one hand, it’s crazy to me you put your body through so much, but I also recognize your passion and dedication. So, I get it. I was an athlete too. Love of the game type shit.”

You can’t say that you would have ever continued to cheer if it left you the way Joe would come to you sometimes, but as someone who’s been in a similar situation, you understand it. And it’s so much more than just a job to him. It’s a legacy, in his bloodline. All he knows.

All he wants.

So, you support him.

You’ll always support him.

________

There’s the initial chaos that ensues in the minutes after your departure. Callie’s confusion. Joe’s confusion. Bianca’s utter confusion. And as Callie is right there, Joe can’t go immediately after you. He can’t and won’t leave her, so he does the best he can, offering apologies to Bianca and Co. before taking Callie and finding your mom who was catching up with an old friend in another part of the show.

He has some level of difficulty explaining what happened, other than the fact that you’d run off and he needed to find you. It’s really all of the information that he has to go off of, and when he’s finally able to get back to the apartment where he thinks you probably went. He's disappointed to find it empty. There’s brief moment of panic. 

Just where the hell would you go?

He pulls out his phone to check again if you’ll pick up, but it goes straight to voicemail. He then starts to call your mom to ask her if she had any idea where you would be when he thinks about what happened. You were upset, very much so. 

You needed to clear your head.

He knows exactly where you are.

On that same roof he sat on with you years prior is where Joe finds you, but what he doesn’t expect is the bottle of Hennessy that’s not only open but already halfway empty and sitting beside you. 

He doesn’t try to hide his presence and is unsurprised when you ask, “How’d you find me?” 

���Wasn’t that hard,” he answers. It wasn’t. He remembers almost everything you’ve ever told him about yourself, including how this spot has always been your place to escape.

Just what were you escaping from is what has him stumped.

“Sit down.” You pat the space beside you much harder than what’s necessary. He sighs and asks for a minute, pulling out the phone and stepping away to make a call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Did you find her?”

“Yeah,” Joe runs his hand over his face. “I got her, but….can you take Callie back to your place?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

He looks over again at the bottle. “She’s drunk.”

“Drunk?” It sounds like she’s holding back a chuckle, like his words are humorous because everyone knows you don’t drink, and she says as such. “What do you mean she’s drunk? My child doesn’t even drink.”

“She did tonight” Joe’s eyes fall back over to you to see you still sitting, swaying slightly as if listening to music. There is no music. “And Callie doesn’t need to see her like this.” He especially knows you wouldn’t want her to see you like this. 

Your mom sighs, heavily, on the other end. “You’ll stay with her, right?”

“Of course.” That’s not even a question. “And once I get her settled, if Callie is still up—”

“Oh, she’ll be up. She can’t fall asleep unless she talks to you or her mama.” It feels like an inappropriate response, but there’s a small part of Joe that finds joy in this. He remembers when you mentioned to him before that Callie needed to see and/or speak to you before she could fall asleep, a sign of how closely bonded you two were. To be added to that category means everything to him. “Thank you, Joseph.”

He sees no need in being thanked but acknowledges your mom’s appreciation anyway. “Of course.” The call ends, and he brings his focus back to you. The first thing he does is take away the bottle of Henny.

You see this and instantly scowl. “You’re no fun.” 

He sits next to you, asking in a quiet voice, “what happened tonight, Y/N?” Joe is still utterly confused at all of this, your zero to one hundred change in demeanor. But, the fact that you resulted to drinking shows him just how heavy whatever it was has impacted you. “Talk to me.” 

You laugh, but there isn’t an ounce of humor. “God, where do I start?” Your eyes light up, as if realizing something. “Oooh. I know where.” You lean into his shoulder, whispering, “I’m the product of an affair.”

This piece of information definitely takes him by surprise.

He's noticed you've never talked about your father, and he's never asked. Obviously, it was a sensitive topic, that much he could garner. But now, he knows just why it was sensitive.

“I don't—I don't know exactly what happened between them. She’s never really talked about it, but I do remember when I was younger, maybe—maybe a couple years older than Callie, he was—he was at the house.” You swallow, and Joe can see the distance in your eyes, like you’re no longer sitting here beside him. But someplace else. “She told me to go to my room, but I snooped at the top of the steps. Don’t….don’t really remember everything that was said except that she was literally begging this man to have some type of relationship with me, and he refused.” You laugh suddenly, and it’s so out of place, doesn't make sense given the nature of the conversation. But it does if he factors in the liquor coursing through your system. “He called me a m–mistake.”

Joe's heart aches at your words. “Baby—”

“When I was sixteen years old, I worked at a clothing store in town, and I saved up my money for this necklace…it was gold, and I thought—I thought it was so pretty. It made me feel fancy.” You chuckle, not as humorous this time, head tilting. “And once I finally got the necklace, I drove—I drove an hour away because…because after all those years, I still….I wanted to meet my father. I wanted…I wanted him to be in my life.” 

“He’s uh—or was, I’m not sure anymore—captain of police in his town, so I went to the precinct to meet him, wearing that necklace that I worked months to save up for because…because I wanted to look nice. I remember walking into his office, and I was nervous, but—but I also figured there was no way he could reject me then. I—I was head cheerleader. A straight A student. I—I had just gotten a near perfect score on both my SAT and ACT. I was…I was a good kid, Joe.”

Your jaw fixes, and he can see you’re trying to hold back tears. It kills him to see you this upset. He’s never seen you this vulnerable. “And I—I told him all that. I told him I wanted to see if he wanted a relationship with me, and do you know what he told me?” You suddenly stand up, clearly intending to mimic this interaction. “A relationship? Why would I want a relationship with you? You’re not even supposed to exist.” 

You giggle, eyes watering. Joe frowns. He can’t even begin to fathom how someone can say something like that to their own flesh and blood.

“Oh, but that’s not even the best part.” You’re doing one hell of a job playing this all off as something that isn’t impacting you, no doubt thanks to the alcohol. But, he knows you well enough to know and even see where this is headed. “He—” you hiccup, covering your mouth to hide your giggles. “He said again that I was a mistake that he paid my mom to take care of and—” It’s starting to crack, the alcohol induced facade that all of this is fine, that you don’t care. Your voice starts to catch. “---that the money he gave her for an abortion was the biggest waste of money he ever spent.”

“Y/N—”

“Minutes later, his wife walked in and then—and then his daughter walked in, and I—I ran. I couldn’t….I couldn’t—we looked the same age, Joe. He had a daughter already, he–he didn’t need me. He didn't—he didn’t want me.” You sniffle, wiping at your eyes. “And that’s fine, I—I didn’t care. I—I blocked that out after that day. I’d—I’d forgotten about him.” A beat. “Until tonight.”

“Because—because for the first time since I was sixteen years old, I was in front of all of them again. My—my—father, his wife, my—-”

Joe starts putting the pieces together. “Bianca….”

“She’s my sister,” you answer for him, having a hard time keeping it all in at this point. “She’s the one he’s proud of. She’s the one whose kid he claims as his grandchild. She’s the one he acknowledges. I’m just—I’m just the mistake he wishes was never born.” 

Joe stands up, gradually moving toward you. 

“I did everything right. I stayed out of trouble. I went to school. I got my degree. I did—-” He’s in front of you, gently pulling you into him as you finally break. “I don’t understand why he didn’t want me. I’m his daughter.” you finally shatter, crying into his chest. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, hey—” Joe brings his hands to your face, making you look at him. “There is nothing wrong with you. You are an amazing, intelligent, beautiful woman, and I can’t even begin to describe how amazing of a mother you are.” He wipes away your tears as you clutch onto his shirt. “He doesn’t deserve you, baby. He doesn’t deserve to be in your life. He never did, and he never will. Fuck him. You don’t need shit from him. I’ve got you, okay? Always.” You allow him to hold you, to comfort you, because it’s just what you need in this moment. You tried to find it in solitude, tried to find it at the bottom of a liquor bottle, but it was all in vain. You just needed him.

Joe holds you as long as you allow him, letting you cry it out until he's eventually able to guide you into returning to your apartment.

But outside the door is when you hesitate.

He notices this, immediately asking, “what’s wrong?”

Your eyes start watering again. “Callie…I—I don’t want her to—”

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head. “I asked your mom to take her back to her place. I’ll go check on her after I get you straight.”

This seems to settle some of your anxiety, and he continues to guide you into your bedroom. He helps you out of your clothes and into a simple t-shirt that he recognizes as one of his own.

Joe moves all of your decorative pillows, placing them on the chair in the corner of your room as you pull back the blankets. He turns around to find you reaching for his hand, tugging him towards the bed. “Just—just until I fall asleep.”

He doesn’t object. Joe planned to stay with you until then anyway.

He undresses enough to climb into bed with you, and you waste no time burying yourself into his chest, feeling an instant sense of peace when he wraps his strong arms around you. You’ve always felt so safe and protected in his embrace, and in this moment, it’s everything you need. 

“I realized something tonight,” you mumble into his skin. Joe’s hand is under your shirt, hand moving soothing circles on the small of your back. “I—I didn’t keep Callie from you because of your wife. That was part of the reason, but it wasn’t the main reason.” You lift your head, throat feeling pressured as you allow yourself to finally admit, “the truth is that I was terrified you would reject her the way my dad rejected me, and I never wanted her to feel that way. And I know now that you would never do that to her, but I—I didn’t know then, and I was so wrong, and I’m so sorry. I—”

“Hey—” He cuts you off, hand going to palm your cheek. “Don’t do that. I understand why you did it now, I do. You were trying to protect her. I can’t be upset with you for that. I’m not.” He studies your face, your eyes, always so beautiful to him. “I don’t think I could ever be mad at you for too long.”

It’s not a lie. Joe’s always thought he’s known you like the back of his hand, learned you so well, but tonight has shown him that he didn’t know everything. He’ll never get back the time he missed out on with Callie, and maybe on some level there will always be a slither of resentment. But, it’s not enough for him to notice and most definitely not enough for him to actually feel.

He’s not quite sure how he could find it in him to hold your decision against you. It didn’t come from a place of selfishness or vindictiveness but love and protectiveness. You just wanted to keep her from experiencing the pain and trauma you’d endured. 

There was no faulting that. 

And you accept his grace, so understanding and considerate. You feel slightly undeserving but immensely grateful that he can extend such empathy. 

You’re quiet after that, eyes shut as you work to turn off your brain and decompress what’s inarguably been one of the most difficult days of your life. You’re almost in the early stages of sleep when his voice invades the quietness. 

“I love you.” Joe doesn’t feel any sort of movement at his confession, doesn’t feel you tense or relax. He’s not even sure if you’re still awake, but still, he continues. “I’ve always loved you, and I don’t even know how much of this you’ll remember tomorrow, but that doesn’t matter because I’ve always imagined telling you under much different circumstances anyway.”

“I want to be with you,” he continues. “I’ve always wanted to be with you, and I’m sorry for not putting you first. You deserved better than that. I should have gotten divorced long before I even met you. And that’s….something we eventually need to talk about. I owe you that much.”

He wants to say more, so much more, but he also knows now is not the time given he’s almost certain you’re asleep. Hence why he finally slips out of bed, knowing he needs to check on Callie.

He doesn’t leave without caressing your cheek and kissing your temple, relieved that you’re finally getting some rest following what was inexplicably an emotionally draining day. 

But you’re not asleep, and you did hear it.

You heard it all.

________

“Who are you?”

Joe walked into your moms house, not expecting anyone other than your mom and Callie. Only one of those individuals are present, and the other is a man he’s never in his life seen before but automatically doesn’t like. Just his aura seems off. 

Joe especially hates that this man is in the same house as his little girl.

Your mom seems taken back by this side of him and explains, “Joe, this is Amir. He’s, uhh, an old friend of Y/N. He saw her run off and wanted to check in on her.”

The day's events are definitely a contributing factor as Joe feels exhausted, both mentally and physically, but hearing that this is the infamous Amir instantly angers him. What the hell is he doing here?

“You bold as hell coming here.” is all Joe says, redirecting his attention to your mom. “Y/N tell you that she found out he and Mariah been sleeping with each other?”

What he wants to say is that they’ve been fucking, but he wants to remain respectful. Even if it is hard as hell.

Your mom is looking, mouth ajar, between Joe and Amir. “Wh–what is he talking about, Amir?”

“So you’re the one that’s been feeding those lies into her.” Deflection. It’s a typical bitch move. “You talking a lot of shit for someone who abandoned his own kid and just came back on the scene like ain't nothing happened.”

If not for the fact that you’ve already explained to Joe that you’d never told Amir what really happened between you and him because it was none of his business, Joe would have been livid. He would never abandon you. And definitely never Callie. Ever.

He’d have been with you every fucking step of the way the minute you found out you were pregnant if he’d been given the chance.

But all of that is no business of this asshole’s. 

“You can say or think whatever the hell you want about me. It doesn’t matter. You’re irrelevant, regardless, so the same way you walked your ass in here is the same way you can walk your ass right on out.”

“Apparently not to Y/N.” He’s smug, and it takes a tremendous amount of willpower for Joe to not lay this man out right then and there. He doesn’t know why you would ever settle for the likes of this prick. “Not with how many times she ended up in my bed.” 

Joe partially forgot your mom was even in the same vicinity until she gasps loudly, clearly disgusted, “my Lord. Please, this is my daughter you’re speaking about.”

With a low chuckle, Joe tries his best to remain respectful yet still abundantly clear. “And how many times has she reached out to you since I’ve been back?” His silence is all the answer Joe needs, not that he really needs one at all. Joe knows you have eyes and desire for him and him alone. He just needs to prove a point to this motherfucker. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you to stay the fuck away from my girlfriend and especially my daughter, cause the next time it won’t be no conversation.”

And before Amir can say or even, stupidly, do anything, a new smaller voice enters the scene.

“Daddy!”

Joe is unsure if he’ll ever get over the joy that fills him at being called that. Callie is at the top of the steps but proceeds to rush down when she sees him, Joe leaning down and catching her, picking her up.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He kisses her cheek, noticing almost immediately how tired she looks. Understandable, as it’s almost 11 o’ clock, far past her bedtime. Uncomfortable with this Amari or whatever the fuck his name is being so close to Callie, Joe starts leading her back up the stairs.

With a frown, she asks the question he was expecting. “Where’s mommy?” 

“She’s back at the apartment sleeping.” Joe is unsure just how to explain tonight’s events to Callie, not really knowing how to help her understand what occurred, if at all possible. “I’ll take you to see her tomorrow morning as soon as she wakes up.”

Joe walks her into her room at your mom’s place and seats her on the bed, sitting next to her. “What’s wrong with her?”

Such a simple question in wording and massively difficult in every other area, especially when one considers Callie’s young age. 

“Mommy saw someone who was very mean to her when she was little, and it made her sad, so….she just wanted to be alone.” It’s the best, simplest answer that’s not a lie he can come up with on the spot.

Callie’s frown deepens. “I don’t want mommy to be sad.”

“Neither do I, baby,” he murmurs. “But, I talked with her, and she should start feeling better soon, okay?”

Her frown diminishes slightly, and Joe can tell she’s in thought. She then asks, “are you gonna go stay with mommy tonight?”

“I was, but I can stay with you, if you want me to.” Joe knows you’ll probably sleep throughout the night because of the alcohol and more importantly, if Callie needs him, he’s there. No questions asked.

You would do the same. 

She suddenly shakes her head. “Mommy stays with me when I’m sad, so someone’s gotta stay with her while she’s sad.” Her face grows sullen again as she asks with a yawn, “do you still have to leave tomorrow morning?”

“No, I leave tomorrow night instead.”

In the midst of all of tonight’s chaos, he’d managed to switch flights, picking an evening one instead. Joe let Hunter know there was a family emergency, and that he’d be back later than initially expected. Hunter was understanding, and while he was grateful for that, it didn’t really make a difference.

You and Callie come first. 

She’s obviously partially pleased with this information and moves her body against his, laying her head on his arm. “I’m sleepy….”

Reaching to caress her cheek with his finger, he directs, “get some rest, Callie. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

She doesn’t say anything, just closes her eyes. It doesn’t take long for sleep to overtake her, a mere matter of minutes really. He stays with her longer though, just to be sure, needing to know she’s okay.

He needs both of yall to be okay.

________

You wake up with an instant sense of unease and discomfort. Your head is throbbing, and your body feels heavy. Your chest feels pressured, like there’s some invisible weight on it.

But in a matter of seconds, it all comes rushing back to you. The fireworks. Bianca. Seeing your dad. Running. Drinking. 

"I love you."

Eyes shutting, you do your best to settle your brain because only one thing is at the front of your mind when you hear giggling coming from outside of your closed door.

Callie 

Just how in the hell did your brief mental breakdown affect your child? 

Pushing the blankets off, it’s then you notice the bottle of water and white pill sitting on your nightstand. Picking it up, you see it’s Advil.

“Joe…..” you whisper, realizing he must have left it here waiting for you once you woke up. Eyes watering at his thoughtfulness, you swallow it and head straight for the bathroom. You need to get cleaned up and get out there to see what kind of damage you’ve unintentionally inflicted on your child’s psyche.

You know how attached she is to you and don’t even allow yourself to think about how difficult it must have been to be so abruptly ripped away.

Especially when you’re the one who did the ripping.

The shower is kept to a minimum, and once your teeth are brushed and face clean, you don’t hesitate to step out of the room. Following the path of sound, in the kitchen is where you find Callie. With Joe. 

They’re sharing a quiet laugh, and you’re certain it’s quiet because he told her you needed your rest. Always looking out for you. 

However, it’s when Callie happens to glance your way that her eyes go big. 

“Mommy!”

She surprisingly climbs off the counter instead of outright jumping and runs over to you. You kneel down to meet her for her hug, so tight and welcoming. “Do you feel better?” 

“Oh baby, I’m always better when I get to see you.” Kissing her forehead, you add, gently, “mommy’s sorry for scaring you.” And it's true. You never meant to scare her or make her worry about you, and it's something you'll work as hard as necessary to make up to her.

But your sweet child surprises you with her authentic, mature reassurances. “It’s okay. Daddy said you were sad,” she explains and gasps. “I made you something to make you smile!”

Touched, you palm her cheek. She really is the light of your life. “I’d love to see it, baby.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back.” She rushes out of the kitchen, and you take the opportunity to talk to Joe. Wordlessly, you move over to hug him.

“Thank you.” There’s not enough thank yous to show him just how appreciative you are to have him in your life, to have him as Callie’s father. He took such control yesterday while you were busy drowning in your daddy issues. And now he’s still here when you’re almost certain that he was supposed to have flown out at the crack of dawn. “I’m really sorry about last night. That’s not—-I don’t get drunk. I would never leave Callie like that—“

“I don’t care about any of that,” he dismisses. You believe him, as he looks entirely uninterested in any explanation you want to provide him because he sees it as unnecessary. He takes the back of hand to feel your forehead. “How are you feeling? Did you take the Advil?”

Nodding, you try again, “seriously, Joe. You’ve changed your whole schedule around—“

“You needed me,” he answers. “There was nothing to think about.”

And the tears are brewing again, but for very different reasons. This man is everything you’ve always wanted and dreamed of, even better. And he loves you. He wants to be with you. Your daughter's father wants to establish a life with you, be a family. What logical reason do you have to continue to deny him? Deny yourself?

“Joe…..” Licking your lips, you place your hands on his chest. “I lo—”

“Here it is, mommy!”

Callie’s interruption is both perfect and imperfect timing. You want so badly to tell him that you love him too, that you also want to be with him. But maybe it’s not the best timing, maybe the setting should be different.

You want him to know you love him not just because of the aftershocks of vulnerability. That you’re in love with him and have been since you were 23 years old. 

Callie is at your legs, holding up a drawing she created of you surrounded by hearts. Her artwork has always been her favorite form of expression, and you’re so grateful for her pure, kind heart in this moment.

Holding it against your chest, you lean down to accept her hug. “Thank you so much, baby. I love it.” 

“Yay!” She rejoices and then looks up between the two of you. “Daddy and I made you breakfast!”  

Gasping, you ask, “really?” It’s only then you notice the kitchen, while cleaner than one would expect after preparing breakfast with a four-year-old, you see the counters that have food laid out on a variety of plates and tupperware. “Waffles?”

“Your favorite.” Joe reaches to kiss your temple, and lightly pats your hip. “Sit down, we’ll fix it for you.”

You open your mouth to protest when Callie takes your hand and guides you to the barstools and scampers back over to Joe who picks her up, holding her with one arm while the other fixes your breakfast for you. He allows her to point and dictate what goes on your plate and how it’s fixed.

And you sit there, allowing yourself to take in this moment. There’s so much you need to navigate and sort through. Bianca, your dad, Mariah, hell, even finally being honest with Joe about your feelings. But, all of that can wait. 

Because all that matters right now are the two people you love most in this world.

[partycatty]

kenshi takahashi > take it

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BELOVED POOKIE BEAR @crimsonbubble!!!!!!!!! LOVE U LOTS, ENJOY MY LITTLE BIRTHDAY PRESENT <3

warnings: mean dom kenshi >:3, overstimulation, mutual masturbation? torture? idk something heinous is going on

notes: why my thingy go up while writing this

[ masterlist ]

• you knew better, you knew so much better than to get on his nerves but you found the fun in his firm tone and thick, crossed arms. you had decided to pull a little lie his way, figuring it wouldn't do much harm. and now, he found out, so here you were with a vibrator cruelly bound to your sticky cunt, a low enough setting to make you writhe and beg for forgiveness. your legs are bound, forced open and tied to your wrists behind your back.

• kenshi could pretend to ignore your voice forever if it meant you'd continue to beg as he sits in a chair against the bedroom wall, toying lazily with his aching cock. his other hand rests against his jaw, the controller to the toy in his fist.

• he was trained in so many other ways of endurance, namely having incredible control over his arousal. he'll last as long as you and then some, as long as you get properly tortured, kenshi will continue to stroke himself with grunts and occasional twitches when his thumb slides across his tip.

• just as you grow tired of one setting, kenshi would heighten the strength significantly, relishing in your cries and squirms. your core bubbles, folds slick and needy as the sheets underneath you begin to dampen. your hips buck, eagerly chasing your as it orgasm fast approaches.

• "please, ken, please-" your voice sounds pleading, almost for your life as tears prick in your eyes. "i'm sorry for misbehaving, it won't - hah - won't happen again..."

• kenshi's cruel, cold grumble pulls you back to reality as you feel your vision blur. "liar."

• the vibrator reduces to a low hum around your clit, completely pulling you away from cumming just as quick as it approached you. thrashing and rolling your head back, you're just about to flop backwards onto the mattress before you hear kenshi tut at you.

• "eyes here," he demands, voice still low. "watch what you do to me." you pull your head forward, resting your chin against your chest as you sniffle, watching kenshi stroke himself through your lashes.

• his cock had a shine of his precum coating it, his fingers sliding up the length of his shaft with ease. his eye contact was brutal, nearly killing you where you sat. it was almost too much when you'd catch his eye twitch or his lips part to moan.

• a little treat to you, his hips buck up, his dick chasing the friction of his palm as he nears his own orgasm. your lips part, matching his pants with need. you nod encouragingly, relishing in the sight and temporarily distracted enough to ignore the faint buzzing on your cunt.

• this, he notices. kenshi pulls his hand away from his cock, denying both you and him the pleasure of him painting his stomach with his seed. kenshi rolls his head back, letting out a deep sigh as he holds his cock at the base, thighs tensing. his gaze falls forward at you, suddenly setting the vibrator alight with a single touch.

• your back arches from the sudden shock, the toy torturing your puffy clit relentlessly as the hum shocks up your spine and makes your whole body tremble.

• "you gonna lie to me again?" he asks, his voice lost to your ears as you cry out from the overstimulation, an orgasm fast approaching again and yet so far away. "learned to listen?"

• "yes, god -" you cry out. "yes, yes, i'll behave, i'll listen - fuck -"

• kenshi chuckles to himself, stopping his strokes to admire the view in front of him. "you look so good like this, you know. i should just keep you here all night. how's that sound?" the proposal makes you frown as your face contorts in pleasure.

• "i like you more when you behave," he purrs, tutting at your knitted brows and soaked pussy. "pisses me off when you're a brat, you know that, right?" you can only stupidly nod at his words, accepting whatever he wants to throw your way when he speaks in that sultry voice. he hums in agreement, fucking his cock on his hand at a swifter pace now. "you want to cum, is that it?"

• in a daze, you nod, the buzzing numbing your cunt heats your skin. the vibrator speeds up to an impossible speed now, burning your very core and rendering you entirely speechless, drool slipping down your chin as your orgasm attacks your entire body. thanking him endlessly as each wave twitches your limbs. •kenshi smiles to himself, lip curling in amusement at your stupid state. you miss as he cums, painting his flush skin with his fluid with a hissing grunt. his cock twitches hungrily, begging for somewhere to stuff it but settling for his hand. you were too busy crying in pain as you notice the vibrator doesn't come to an end like you do, instead attacking your pussy at the same pace it was before. • his smile turns into a beaming grin, a rare expression on his hard features as you writhe and burst into full-on sobs, crying that it's too much for you to handle so soon. • the words are lost to him again as he stands there with the smile, admiring the shine on your skin and the drool from your cunt as your hole clenches down on nothing. he flicks between the fast and faster speeds rapidly, sending lightning up your spine as you cum again. even through the pleasure you're wracked with pain. • "no more..." you beg, voice hoarse from your pathetic cries. "please, please no more, kenshi-" • "i thought you wanted to cum?" he asks in that stupidly teasing tone, and you know you're in for it by the inflection in his words. "you're getting what you want, dear." • kenshi promptly stuffs his cock back in his slacks and brushes his thighs off, standing up after wiping his hand on a towel resting on the armrest. your eyes widen in fear of what's to come when you see him stand with a huff. • "k-kenshi?" you whimper, body weak against the vibrator still toying with your clit. kenshi wiggles the controller in his fingers with a cocked brow as he heads toward your bedroom door. "no, nonono, wait-" • the door slams on you as you're still bound and dripping, the heat from the last two orgasms sliding the toy against your clit as it slips between your folds, overly soaked. • kenshi stands on the other side of the door, unbeknownst to you, touching himself to your screaming sobs that turn into whispered sniffles the longer the machine pulls orgasm after orgasm from you. • he does return, albeit eventually. you're knocked out, the only sound in the room being the horrid squelching of your pussy and your faint breaths after passing out from how many times you came. • kenshi helps bathe you, cleaning you gently of the rope wounds and slick before dressing you properly for the night after changing the dampened sheets courtesy of your arousal, pulling you to his chest. he couldn't help himself but laugh at your sleepy sniffles, consciousness lost to you after all the time of agony. • "did so good," he hums into your hair, kissing the top of your head. "always so good for me."

[peggyao3]

Pt. 28 - Fucking Machines

A/N: Why is it always dom!Feyd these days? I miss sub!Feyd, but he ain't back yet 😅

TAGS: she/her AFAB FMC, dub-con, dom!Feyd, BDSM, restraints, overstimulation

WORD COUNT: 700

"No, no, no, you can't!" She laments pitifully upon being forcefully pushed down on the bench by three demure slaves. Feyd-Rautha cradles her head against the headrest, snaring her pleading gaze with a saccharine smile.

"It's to your own benefit, sweetling." The slaves slot her wrists in the designated shackles under the bench and lift her kicking legs to the struts that jut up on each side of the contraption. "I can't be wasting hours of my days to break your little pussy in."

The three bald figures scurry wordlessly out of Feyd-Rautha's wicked play room and when the door whirrs shut, it is only him and her left in this torture chamber. She is spread apart, ankles, wrists and waist tied and one look down the length of her helplessly writhing body reveals a device with a phallus of shiny, black plastic attached, ready to start pistoning into her bared cunt.

At the very least, he squirts a generous glob of lube into his palm and spreads it all over the exposed, tender flesh between her thighs while she whines and shakes her head no with growing despair. Her little clit swells under the ministrations of his calloused fingers and by the time he switches on the machine, she barely takes notice of it, caught up in the throes of pleasure.

Only when the cool plastic breaches her wet, little hole, her eyes snap down and her limbs spasm in their restraints. Feyd-Rautha chuckles and stands, wiping his fingers clean on his trousers. The shiny cock slides beautifully into his darling's cunt and she takes it so well, much better than he thought.

"What do you think, three sessions a day should be enough?" His chest vibrates with a deep chuckle while the phallus drills slowly into her squishy cunt. "Or should I just keep you here? I'll even take you to the bathroom for a piss every other hour if you're good."

"I ha-a-ate you!" She hisses pitifully, though her toes curl treacherously in the air.

Nonchalantly, he switches the machine to a wickedly high setting and pushes himself off the wall, sauntering to the door with long, graceful limbs.

"N-No-o-o, ahhh, don't leave me, please!" She cries out for him. "I'm sorry, m'sorry, sorry!"

"You don't know how lucky you are, sweetling," Feyd-Rautha tut-tuts and returns with measured steps. "All the effort I'm taking on me to make sure I won't split you open on my cock when I have you."

Pleadingly, she waits for him to turn down the setting, but Feyd only settles in the leather armchair across from her and palms himself over his trousers. Her whining and pleading only makes him determined to keep her here longer, until she's half unconscious with drool slipping from both corners of her mouth.

It takes half an hour for him to take mercy on her. When the rattling of the machine subsides, she whimpers quietly and her empty hole clenches pitifully around nothing.

"Aw, poor darling," he drawls and gracefully crouches down, swapping the slick-glistening phallus for a bigger one with practiced ease.

"S-Stop, no more!" She writhes like a snake. "Why?! Yours doesn't even look like that!" She barks out with shaky voice while Feyd already nudges the thick head to her swollen, weeping entrance.

"Does it not?" The machine jumps into motion and his woman yowls out, thrashing against the restraints as her pussy is forced to take the obscene girth and length of the toy. "It was modeled after my own," Feyd-Rautha reveals with a wicked grin. "Convince yourself."

Leisurely, he saunters around the bench and adjusts the height of the headrest to match his hips. Then, he snaps down the top part of it, letting his sweetling's head roll back with a frightened yelp. Her despair only grows bigger when Feyd-Rautha unfastens his pants and pulls out his impressive cock, stroking himself right over her face. Long, dark veins coil across the underside.

"It's n-n-not going to fi-i-it," she laments, face and hairline damp with sweat. Chuckling, Feyd lets his cock fall against her cheek and forehead.

"Open wide, my darling," he purrs. "Your pussy is not the only hole that needs breaking in."

A/N: We need a mop in aisle ten 💦💦💦 Or at least I need one in mine.

FEYD TAG LIST

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @minedofmoria

@sebastianswallows, @charmingballoon, @flower-frog, @welliah, @aoi-targaryen

@coastalcowgirl35, @esolean, @szapizzapanda, @tatertooted, @sunny747

@ughdontbeboring, @meetmeatyourworst

[pandorasprongs]

CHAPTER FIVE | this is what it feels like.

'it's nice to have a friend' masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.0k

SUMMARY: reader is starting to forgive jamie, even going to a charity gala together.

WARNINGS: language, mentions of what happened in amsterdam

A/N: yay! welcome back to me, i guess HAHAHA sorry for going ia for how many months, life just got in the way and i wasn’t able to make time for writing. i’m a bit rusty at this, but this is an extra long chapter and is mostly fluffy (at least, imo), so i hope you guys enjoyed it! we’re down to the last two (maybe three?) chapters of our story, which i hope you all will like :) see you then and thank you again for waiting!

Your relationship with Jamie did start getting better. Slowly, but surely. It wasn't the same as the past few months, though. That repair of your relationship was built on denial and was bound to come crashing down like it did. 

You were still talking, but he wasn't coming over every weekend anymore. He was the one who suggested it too, so you wouldn't feel pressured to decide if you forgive him just yet. He wasn't pushing for an immediate answer either and he was making that clear with how he was acting.

He sometimes sends you a message just to check in and your replies were short, but not apathetic. You'd do the same too, usually after his matches, specifically when it ended on a loss, since most of them were as of recent. What was it, seven matches at this point?

The loss at the Man City game was especially painful, but after you saw the article about Zava's retirement, you had hoped that some part of Jamie was relieved about it all.

Your suspicions are confirmed when you hear Jamie knocking at your door. You open it and instantly get blinded by the light. "Fucking hell."

"Shit, sorry," Jamie exclaims, shutting off his headlamp. Once the light is gone, you finally get a clearer look at the footballer. He was in a grey hoodie which was starting to get all sweaty, and was currently jogging in place. "Went out for a workout with Roy before dinner, and we went pretty far. He already went home though."

You knew where Jamie lived and if he had run that entire length, you don't know how he's not passed out at your doorstep. "Congrats, I think. Why'd you pass by?"

"I wanted to see you," he answered, a little out of breath. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip at that. "If that's not weird."

"No, it's not," you answered quickly, a smile creeping on your face. "D'you wanna come in? I made some pasta if you haven't eaten yet." You offer without thinking but don't retract it in any way. Things like these would help you bond again right? And after seeing Jamie give you a genuine smile and a soft look with his eyes, your worries instantly dissipate.

So now you're having dinner with Jamie and barely any words are spoken, until he mentions, "I'm going to Amsterdam in a couple of weeks. We're having a friendly against Ajax."

"Amsterdam?" Maybe you should've hidden the worry in your voice better.

As far as you know, Jamie had a complicated relationship with that place. You don't know what happened, never wanting to press for too many details, but the first time he went there with his dad, your best friend came home a shell of himself.

—

You headed over there the moment your mom told you he was back and while you half-expected Georgie to turn you away in case his dad was still there, what you ended up seeing was worse. You found Jamie lying down in his bed, just staring at his ceiling. When you called out to him, he made no move to acknowledge that he had heard you.

You were fourteen and uncomfortable with emotions, but you knew you needed to do something for him. You made multiple attempts to try and get a verbal response from Jamie, but it fell on deaf ears.

It was only when you asked if you could lie down next to him did he finally move. He turned to face the wall and his back towards you, but you didn't say anything about it. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him.

"If you don't want to talk about what happened, it's okay," you whispered. "I'll just stay here with you."

In one swift move, Jamie turned around and pulled you into a hug. It was almost instinct that you pulled him closer.

You don't really know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough that you started to get sleepy and eventually drifted off. The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed. Your grogginess quickly turned into confusion.

It would've turned into panic soon if Jamie hadn't walked back into the room as he dried his hair with his towel.

"Oh, you're awake," He said softly. From his voice alone, you wouldn't have been able to tell that he spent that night crying, if not for the bags under his eyes betraying him. The swelling had gone down from the cold water, but the redness was still there.

You don't say anything at first, unsure of how to proceed. But Jamie breaks the tension by asking, "Do you wanna have breakfast before you go back? Smelled mum's cooking from the hallway.”

"Okay." Jamie pulls you up from the bed but doesn't let go of your hand as you head down the stairs. He squeezed it tightly as you walked into the kitchen, his own way of saying thank you.

—

That's how the two of you always were. Talking about your feelings was never a strong suit, but that didn't mean you weren't there for one another. It's how you dealt with hard times as kids, but maybe it was time to ditch that as adults. Or at the least, work on expressing yourselves better.

As if Jamie could read your mind, he gives you a reassuring look, "I don't really think about that trip anymore. Don't really remember much of it either. I just remember the second time. When we were 16 right?"

"Oh yeah," You chuckle at the reminder. Jamie's mom had planned a trip for the two of them to Amsterdam and your parents just happened to also be figuring our your own summer holiday plans. 

The five of you spent a week there going on tours, visiting museums, and all the usual tourist activities. One of the pictures you still had of you and Jamie was one your dad took when you visited some tulip fields. Jamie had his arm around your waist and both of you were holding stroopwafels, impatiently waiting to eat them. 

A group of old ladies passed by as the photo was being taken and thought you were a young couple, which both of you were quick to deny. Things were only awkward for about twenty minutes till Jamie started chasing after your stroopwafel because he had already finished his.

"That was pretty fun, wasn't it?"

"Mhm," Jamie says as he continues to eat. "I still remember all the facts you made me memorize. Might try and annoy Roy with them."

The two of you continued to talk that night and for the first time since that night in Nelson Road, being with Jamie didn't put a pit in your stomach. There was no longer a nagging voice in your head reminding you of the past or the rising feeling of resentment when he'd joke about the past few years. Instead, you were just content and happy to be there with him.

When you finished your meals, you suddenly got a waft of Jamie and almost gagged. "Oh my God, you definitely need to shower."

Jamie pulled his hoodie up to his nose and cringed. "Right. I guess I should head home now."

"No. I am not letting you out into the streets of London smelling like that. You can shower here," you offer and without giving Jamie a chance to respond, you start walking over to the bathroom.

Jamie lagged behind a bit but caught up as you pulled an extra towel from the cabinet. "You can go to the guest room for spare clothes. Dad leaves a bunch of them here when they come over. Oh, and slippers too if you want to give your feet a rest." The footballer gratefully takes the towel and heads into the bathroom. 

When you hear the water start, you move to walk back to the living room when you pass by your bookshelf once again, the empty spaces between your books glaring at you. You head into your room and open your closet to pull out the pictures. You pick up the one from Amsterdam, from your graduation, and from your 10th birthday, and scatter them around the shelf.

You go get ready for bed and change into your pajamas before going back to the living room to wait for Jamie. After 30 minutes — or an episode and a half, — you hear him call out your name.

You find Jamie in the hallway in one of your dad's giant grey shirts and sweatpants. When you approach, he finally asks, "Have these always been here?"

He points towards the frames and you realize that despite the number of times Jamie's been in your flat, he's never looked at the top of your bookshelf.

"I put them there pretty recently." You admit before turning towards the footballer. 

Jamie catches your eyes and seems to be debating whether to say something. He finally speaks up, "So I take it you've..." but he trails off, leaving you to finish it.

"I forgive you. Well, I think I’m starting to," you start. "I guess these past few months, I've been compartmentalizing my anger towards you and that wasn't fair. I know neither of us is particularly good at expressing our feelings, but we should've talked about this back when we saw each other again. That's my fault, I admit and I'm sorry. But I'm happy now, spending time with you and I don't have this sinking feeling that it'll all go to shit anymore. So yeah, I think I forgive you, Jamie."

You give him a wide smile and before you know it, Jamie wraps his arms around you tightly. Your smile only grows wider as you pull him closer. 

This is what you've missed all these years. Being so comfortable and safe with Jamie, that him randomly hugging you doesn't take you by surprise anymore. You're content and happy. And you have Jamie, your Jamie, back.

He breaks apart from you and the two of you walk back to the living room, the sitcom still playing on the TV. You expected him to make his exit by now, but seeing as you've just made up, Jamie felt confident enough to stick around a bit longer. He takes a seat across from you on the couch. Maybe it was because he was fresh out of the shower and no longer wearing sticky clothes, but he felt freer than ever.

Jamie glanced down at his phone at notifications from the team group chat and suddenly remembered another reason why he passed by your apartment. "Are you doing anything Friday?"

The last time Jamie asked you that, it ended with one of the worst outbursts you've ever let out, but you tried not to be reminded of that. Besides, you trusted that he'd keep his word; he wouldn't break your heart once again.

"Not really. My lectures are all in the morning that day. Why?"

"There's this charity ball that my boss does every year and I was looking for a plus one," Jamie explained slowly, before turning to you to see your reaction. "If you want. You know, as friends."

You don't know what stunned you more: the way your heart swelled when Jamie asked you to go with him to an event or the sinking feeling that appeared when he added the 'as friends' part. All this tension and ghosting these past few weeks made you forget all about those pesky, jittery feelings that you still had for him, but now that the dust had settled, they were coming back.

You try to ignore it, just for this moment, and prepare to answer him. But the more you thought about this "charity gala," the more you realized what you were about to agree to.

"Wait, is this the thing where people bid on football players for dates?" You remember seeing an article on it a few years back where three women got into a bidding war for Jamie. "Fucking hell, if you're just doing this to stage another bidding war for you, then—"

"No! 'Course not! You kept saying before how you want a reason to dress up!" Jamie's quick to defend himself and you fall back into your seat. "Plus, I can't have Richard setting me up on yet another disastrous date, I just can't." 

You say nothing, absorbing his plea, but then watch as Jamie's expression turns mischievous. He teasingly asks, "Why? Would you actually bid on me? You're already spending time with me for free." He playfully elbows you and you take in a whiff of the lavender-scented body wash you kept in the guest bathroom.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Christ, and they should be paying me for it, too." You reply, but you avoid eye contact with Jamie knowing how easily you'd break into laughter if you did.

"Fine, I'll go with you." You finally agree and before Jamie can celebrate your response, you add on. "But, you owe me a date, too. To Liv's wedding."

Jamie takes a second to reply, and you worry your usage of the word "date" threw him off. But quickly enough, his mischievous smile returns and he agrees, "Alright, it's a deal."

Neither of you mention the gala again till Jamie finally decides he has to get going — "It'll be worse for me if Roy gets to my house and I'm not there," — and says he'll send you the formal invite when he gets home.

It only sinks in when you're getting ready for bed that you're actually going to a formal gala. With Jamie. As his (friendly) date. Next week. What a way to start the new era of your friendship, right?

You wonder how exactly he'd introduce you to the rest of the people there. As his childhood friend? His date? Every option made you feel jittery inside, and you have a hard time accepting that it's possible you're falling for Jamie once again. 

The first time you ever found him attractive was at the ripe age of 16, after locking eyes with him when he was celebrating one of his team's wins. It was that summer of growth spurts and you started to see what everyone else did; Jamie Tartt, your best friend, was fucking fit. It only took a year till you fully accepted it, but ultimately decided to never act on it. Well, aside from that one time, which neither of you brought up again after the morning after.

It took another two years before you gave up on those feelings and buried them deep down, or at least tried to. But allowing Jamie's friendship back into your life brought those feelings back up to the surface. 

So, the week went by quickly and you were now waiting in your apartment in a cropped silk camisole, high-waisted black trousers, and wedge heels that Liv let you borrow, pacing a hole into your floor. All you did with your hair was pin the side bangs away from your face and you hope that's enough.

You hear a knock on your door and you almost trip on the bottom of your pants to open it. You find Jamie in an almost identical outfit to the one he used for his date before, except in a different color. His hair had been slicked back, reminiscent of his older hairstyle but the highlights made the look pop more.

When his eyes land on you, Jamie takes a second to scan you before exclaiming, "Fucking hell."

With a teasing tone to try and make yourself feel more at ease, you ask, "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Jamie looks back up at your eyes and smiles, "You look great." You don't detect a hint of banter from the guy which makes you feel warm inside, until he adds, "Though, I half expected you to wear your dress from our year 12 formal."

"Jamie, I swear I can still find something else to do tonight." You threaten but are unable to stop the smile creeping up on your face.

Jamie just chuckles and takes hold of your hand as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Come on," He realizes what he's just done and pauses to see your reaction, but when you tighten your grip on his hand, he continues, "Need to get there early so they don't swarm me for pictures." You roll your eyes as the two of you head out of the building.

You actually did get to the venue quite early, since the photographers were still setting up the booth and so the two of you walk over to two ladies, one of whom you recognize as Keeley Jones. After he introduces you, — as his friend and plus one, no mention of the word "date" — you soon find out that the taller one is Rebecca Welton, the owner of AFC Richmond.

"Wow, so you two practically control Jamie's career. Blink twice if you need me to take him off your hands." You lean in towards the two of them but speak loud enough for Jamie to hear and he pulls you back to his side as you laugh. The two women chuckle and share a look between them that you don’t know them well enough to understand, so instead you brush it off.

Jamie gets called for photos and Rebecca leaves to greet the guests heading inside the venue, so you're left standing with the PR manager of the team. As you watch Jamie cycle through various poses, Keeley leans in to ask you, "So, how long have you known him?"

"Well, I met Jamie when I was seven, but when I went off to uni and he joined Man City, we kind of drifted apart and didn't really talk for the next few years." That was basically the truth, anyway. "But I went to one of the Richmond games and we bumped into each other."

"Well, I'm glad the two of you met again. Honestly, Jamie's become much more tame recently. He hasn't had any Twitter feuds or issues in weeks. Makes my job a lot easier." You chuckle, knowing that instead of fighting back, Jamie ends up just complaining about it to you. She adds, "You must be a good influence on him."

"People have been saying exactly that since we were kids, so maybe it is true." You reply and Keeley gives you a wide grin.

When you head into the venue, there are already a few guests settling down in the area. You recognize some of them as footballers, — both from AFC Richmond and other teams, even some retired ones — business owners who are trying out being philanthropists, and people you've seen on magazine covers. 

You were less uncomfortable than you expected because everyone's attention was on Jamie. You stood by him while he greeted a bunch of people and continued to introduce you as his plus one. You hated crowds when you were kids and Jamie knew that, so he'd always check on you if you wanted to go to your seats ahead of him. You'd shake your head every time because you've already had years to get over that fear. Plus, everyone had been nice so far and more polite than you expected rich people to be.

Everyone finally decides to leave Jamie alone and the two of you head to your table, where some of his teammates are already seated and chatting amongst themselves. You recognized them immediately: Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes, and Richard Montlaur. Without Jamie even having to introduce you to them, Dani had already asked what your name was.

“What a lovely name! I’m Dani.” You shake the hand he offered you, as the other players start to welcome you as well. They were so warm and kind, that it’s no wonder Jamie had gotten so much better during his time at Richmond. It seemed their energy was so infectious that it was rubbing off on Jamie.

Though, it could be a bit overwhelming too, as they all wanted to have a conversation with you. Someone had asked, “Tell me more about growing up with Jamie,” while someone else chimed in, “Do you think there’s a correlation between your genes and how well you can shoot a penalty? Because Colin here…” and somewhere in the mix, you hear, “That’s a lovely bag you have. Where’d you get that?”

While Jamie was enjoying watching his favorite person interact with his favorite group of people, he started to notice how tense you were becoming, despite the plastered smile on your face. He reached out to grab your hand as he interrupts all the conversations with, “Alright, alright, I think the programs about to start. Let’s stop bothering my date for now, yeah?”

Date. The word alone sent chills down your spine. Even more so when you turned to look him in the eyes, and he had a look of concern that only you could’ve detected. You breathe a sigh of relief and give him a comforting look, which allows him to relax, too.

You both turn towards the stage as Rebecca, along with Ted, their coach, walk up to the mic. They start with the basic pleasantries, thanking everyone for coming, with Ted’s occasional funny chime-ins. As they segue into the auction itself, you can hear your own table come back to life. The teammates started to tease one another when Colin turns to you, “Oi, looks like you’ll have to put up a fight for Jamie tonight.” He nods towards the table behind yours, and you spot a familiar looking lady, smiling at the man beside you. It’s only when Jamie groans that you realize who it is: the old woman who was one of three people in Jamie’s “bidding war” two years ago.

“Oh my god,” you’re unable to stifle your laughter and instead turn away to try and hide it. “You know what, I think I’m fine going home alone, Jamie. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone off at a party to get lucky, so go have fun!” You tease him, but instead, he turns to you with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Please, don’t do this to me, (Y/N). Make sure you win.”

You scoff and lean in, “Who says I’m even bidding tonight? I’m not even tenured, Jamie. How much money do you think I have?”

Jamie pleads once more, “Please. I’ll pay you back in full and you can pick all the movies we watch for the rest of the month. Anything, come on.” You sigh and finally give in to his puppy dog eyes. 

You give him a slight nod and he quietly thanks you, as Ted starts to introduce the team. “Let’s start the auction with one of our striking strikers, Mr. Jamie Tartt!”

Jamie gets up and walks over to the stage, and it’s only then you realize he had been holding your hand this entire time.

Ted rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, but before Richmond’s coach can even start the bidding, you hear a loud voice behind you exclaim, “Five thousand pounds!”

You have to hold in your chuckle as you turn to Jamie who is now desperately staring at you. You raise your paddle high enough and shout, “Six thousand pounds!”

“Oh, and another bid from Mr. Tartt’s lovely date tonight. Can anyone match that, do I hear seven thousand?” The lady once again raises her paddle.

“Eight thousand!” You exclaim once more, as Jamie lets out a sigh of relief.

This back and forth goes on for a while, up until the final bid (from you, unfortunately) of fifteen thousand pounds. The football player finally allows himself to relax and with one final slap on the back from his coach, makes his way back to you.

“Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing your shoulder as he gives you a quick hug and sits down. You playfully roll your eyes, but give him a small smile back. A few more rounds of bidding take place until Jamie leans back into you. “You feel like going on that date now?”

You turn to him confused, “Like, right now? We’re in the middle of the program.”

Jamie shrugs, “We’re done with our part now and gave out a good amount for the charity. Most of them won’t even notice us leave, come on,” He takes hold of your hand, and as if on cue, activating those butterflies in your stomach, yet again. “Unless you want to bid on someone else tonight, which in that case, I didn’t know you had that in you.”

You roll your eyes but eventually agree. You say your short goodbyes to everyone at the table and Jamie leads you to Rebecca and Ted, who, after Coach Beard — you believed his name was? — had taken over for him, was currently gorging on the appetizers.

“Hey boss, Ted, we’re heading out early, but see you both on Monday.” Jamie quickly explains, still not having let go of your hand. You’re starting to wonder if he’ll ever notice or has just grown used to it like he was before.

“That’s no problem, Jamie, see you and thank you for coming!” Rebecca directed that last comment towards you and you give her a big smile. But his coach wipes his mouth with his table napkin and stands up to greet you anyway.

“Well, I can’t let you go off yet without introducing me to this lovely lady.” Ted reaches out to shake your hand and you take it quickly before he leans to whisper to Jamie, but loud enough for you to hear. “Is this her?”

“Jamie Tartt, do you talk about me to your coach?” You ask teasingly, but instead of his usual reaction of fake annoyance, he turns away shyly.

Ted replies for him instead, saying, “Oh well, not all the time. I usually have to pry it out of him, too.” He nudges the football player, who finally decides that it is definitely time for you two to leave. He leads you out of there and the pair of you walk back to his car in a comfortable silence.

You may not have realized it till now, but the inside of the venue was the stuffiest place you’ve been to in a while. Sure, the people were nice, but the mixing of colognes and posh accents was starting to get to you. Before you can thank Jamie for getting you out of there, he’s rifling around his jacket for something.

“I, uh, found something in some of my old stuff. Was planning to give it to you before we left, but I… got distracted,” you try and ignore the warm feeling creeping up on your cheeks as he says that and instead watch Jamie turn back towards you, pull out your hand, and place an item on your palm. “Here.”

You look down to find a small plastic ring with a “gem” in an obnoxious pink color. You chuckle as you’re reminded of the toy rings Jamie would give you on your birthday as kids, till you realize… you’ve been missing one of them since you moved out.

“Wait, is this…” You start and look back up at Jamie, who has a sheepish look on his face. Definitely doesn’t fit him.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you because well, we weren’t really talking all these years, but I went by your house a few days before you left for uni, but you weren’t home and so I went to your room and saw that lined up with the rest of them on your drawer. I thought you were crazy for keeping them all those years, and I wanted to mess with you, so I… took one of them, hoping you’d notice. You never did though, so now I look kinda stupid.” He explained guiltily, but you could only laugh.

“I thought it just fell into the trash when I was moving out. If you wanted me to notice you taking something, you should’ve taken my shoes or something. Why the ring?” You lean onto the side of his car, and Jamie joins you on your right.

He shrugs and swipes his hair back, “I don’t know. We were going our separate ways and you were going all the way to Wales for so long. I realized it was going to be a while before we saw each other again. I thought, maybe if you’d realize it was missing and wanted to go looking for it, you’d always have a reason to go back to me.”

You feel a heavy weight on your chest as the last part sinks in. After everything that’s happened, it had never occurred to you that even at one point, Jamie was afraid of losing you too.

You sit in that silence for a while before you decide to rest your head on Jamie’s shoulder, in one way telling him, I would always go back to you. He got the message.

“I know it doesn’t go with your usual outfit choices now, but I just thought you’d want it back anyway.” He whispers, causing a smile to form on your face.

“Thank you, Jamie.” You look back up at him, his face softening at the sight of yours. “You wanna go on that date now?” You straighten back up and take his hand in yours this time. “What does the legendary Jamie Tartt have planned for this one?”

Jamie looks around and spots a bike rental on the other side of the car park. You didn’t even have to ask to know what he was thinking. “Race you back to that ice cream shop across your flat. Last one there has to pay.” 

“What kind of date is that, Tartt?!” You exclaim, as he drags you across the street.

If there’s one thing you knew about Jamie, it was that he was a sore loser. So after you dropped your bikes in front of your flat and were massaging your calves waiting for your sundaes, this may have been the happiest you’ve seen him lose at something in your whole life.

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @loveforaugust @crownofdecitreadingrespectfully @dickgraysonspersonalwhore @jess4rush @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

[edgeray]

🌸 madoka anon back! can i request arle finding clervies reincarnation later? with or without memories and how arle will handle it

To Find You Again

(Arlecchino & Clervie)

A/N - So… it's been a while huh? Guess I'm back for a little bit. Did you guys miss me? I missed you guys (please talk to me T^T it's been so lonely).  I am so sorry for taking so long to make this 🌸 Anon. Anyways, platonic arlevie because reincarnated clervie is a child while arle is an adult.  As you guys may have known, I was working on the follower special, and the reason I haven't posted it yet is because I haven't finished 💀. I know. Writing has been on and off for me the entire month, and I think I burnt out from just writing about one piece so much. That, with the added stress of finishing this before school started, and also me not knowing how to start the smut was just a fuck cluster of me procrasinating from writing because the solution to your problems is obviously running away from it :D. I was simultaneously exhausated and antsy to write. Anyways, with school approaching, instead of putting it off, I decided it'd be better to get the requests out of the way so I can get back into the groove of writing without having to focus on the oneshots.  TLDR; Going back to writing requests because I'm sick of writing the specials. 😭 I'm not abandoning part 2 or part 3, because god forbid I throw 9k words in the trash, but lord do I need a break from that writing style. They will be worked on steadily but they will happen… someday.    Content warnings / info - some angst :(, maybe bittersweet ending, 1.7k words.

There is a reason that Arlecchino favors a certain shade of red. The type of vibrant scarlet that leaves her breathless for the slightest second, and she cannot help but admire. Because in that single brief length of time, she is thrown back to when she was no older than six or seven, when she was just Peruere–underneath a tree, a small box in her hands, the sun beaming down at her, knees in the dirt, her curse creeping up her fingertips–and then warmest set of emerald eyes peering upon her. Memories, some fond but largely agonizing, swarm her thoughts, rising in waves that threaten to swallow her whole. 

Over the years, she's learned to stay afloat above the fickle waters, no matter how many times they resurface in varying sizes. Except today is when the waves tower over her, as it crashes into her body, shaking her to her very core, the very foundation of her memories disturbed. All caused by a single engagement in the middle of the Fontainian streets. 

Arlecchino often enjoys strolls when her work allows respites; they are refreshing to the mind, and the beauty of Fontainian architecture never fades away. Walking along the path, she hears small footfalls approach behind her, and then something collides into her body. The weight and negligible force of impact tells her it's a small person, a child, she confirms when she hears a high-pitched voice. 

An apology tumbles out of the child's lips. “I'm sorry!” 

And Arlecchino stiffens immediately, as her ears suddenly ring with those two words, familiarity bleeding through each utterance, because she knows of this voice. This is the same voice that has haunted her dreams for a decade, only this time, it's not whispered, not sapped of all of her previous vitality. Arlecchino is sixteen again, loose sword in hand, the press of a body against her chest, and surrounded by smoke, ashes, and blood, and all she knows is her last words. 

I'm sorry. 

Arlecchino looks down with a gaping expression, lips parted and eyes widened as she stares down at a mop of hair, the color of that ever damnable shade of red, carmine. Gleaming jade stones gaze back at her, and Arlecchino thinks of the impossible–reconsidering every preconception about death. Everything but her attire matches that out of her memories. Many explanations come to her for this child's appearance, but they mock the Harbinger's own recollection of her past. 

“I'm really sorry, ma'am!” The imposter repeats again, before looking down at her shoes, to hide away from any disapproving expressions. 

Had it been one of her children, she would have chided them on their spatial awareness. Had it been any other witless child, she would have scowled and shooed them away. But even with the knowledge that this is a fake, that the girl this child resembles could never return, she cannot help herself when this girl looks so much like her. 

She crouches down to the child's eye level, placing a tender hand on the top of their head, suppressing the urge for her fingers to card through the locks, just to re-experience one final time. She has to be no more than six or seven years. 

“What is your name?” Arlecchino inquires with a softness she seldom had for anyone.

“Clervie.” 

Arlecchino’s breath hitches, and she wills her face to remain still, betraying none of the internal turmoil inside of her. What kind of trickery was this? It's not plausible for Clervie to be alive, not when she had buried her a decade ago, so how could this child stand before her? It'd ease her if she chalked it up to coincidence, but the resemblance is uncanny. Fate works in inexplicable ways, and if it is at play here, then perhaps that is the only explanation. Only Arlecchino contemplates what it is that fate has in plan for Clervie: does it intend to redeem Clerive, or punish her? Or perhaps, was it to punish the Harbinger herself? 

This Clerive seemed to have not a single drop of recollection of her. Forgotten was Peruere, like ash drifted to the wind. 

“How old are you?”

“Six.” 

Further eye contact with the child proved to be too unbearable. Arlecchino observes around, seeing no adult making their way to them.

“Where are your parents?” 

“They're at home.” 

Multiple parents? Arlecchino prays to her Majesty that this Clervie did not have her own version of a Crucabena. A miniscule, selfish part of Arlecchino wishes that her answer was that she had no caretaker. If that was the case, Arlecchino almost wouldn't hesitate taking Clervie to the House of the Hearth, if only to keep this Clervie, no matter if she doesn't know of what occured in her past lifetime, close to her. Anything to replace the emptiness that her Clervie left her with, to pretend that she still has this seldom source of her content. 

She knows that her Clervie would never forgive her, if she knew. And Peruere knows that Clervie longed nothing more but freedom, freedom from the House of the Hearth. Even if this is not her Clervie, she could never trample what Clervie achieved for her own selfish gain. Even if Crucabena was no longer there, Arlecchino could never subject Clervie to the cruelties of the Fatui, could never subject Clervie to herself.

(Arlecchino lays alone in the darkest of nights, when the stars do not shine on her. During such sleepless periods, she contemplates that if Clervie could see her, would Clervie see her in place of their late Mother? 

Peruere is afraid of the answer.)

Clervie is free. There is no need to cage her again when she is always meant to be with the wind. 

But when Arlecchino sees this fake, but undoubtedly, Clervie, she cannot help but want to relive the pleasures of reading books in the window sill with the moon and constellations, climbing trees to collect its bearings, or delighting in cakes. A foolish, naive part that Arlecchino thought she had long buried resurfaces, and it longs to reenact those placid memories. 

“You should not be outside without your parents, Clervie,” Peruere states. “Did you run away?” 

Does this Clervie wish for freedom, just like she did before? The same freedom that she can only sought by death? 

The child shakes her head. “I can't find them. I lost them somewhere.”

The Harbinger lets out a relieved, inaudible sigh. Maybe fate decided to be kind to Clervie this lifetime. 

“Would you like me to help you look for them?” Peruere finds herself asking without a single thought. 

Clervie beams, and perhaps it hurts more than any blade that could pierce her skin. Still, she commits it to memory. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you want me to carry you so you can see better?” Peruere inquired. Admittedly, this is more out of selfishness than for Clervie's benefit. However, she wants to replace the memory of the last time she had carried Clervie's body, broken and bloodied it was when she brought her dear friend to her burial place. If, for the briefest moment between the tides, she would like to fool herself with this memory, then she wishes that she is allowed just this. 

Clervie nods her head, and Peruere carefully picks up the child in her arms, before standing up from her crouching position. 

“Wow, you're so tall!” the six-year-old admires with a wide grin. 

The Harbinger faintly smiles but says nothing. 

“What's your name, ma'am?”

Peruere stops before she's taken 5 steps. It's instilled in her for her to state Arlecchino, the Knave, Fourth Fatui Harbinger, but on her tongue lies another name. “It's… Peruere.” 

“Per…uere?”

Peruere nearly shudders from her utterance, but nods. 

“Can I call you Perrie instead?” 

Arlecchino is the Fourth Fatui Harbinger, her power nearly comparable to that of a god. She has faced Crucabena's Kingmaking, she has endured the icy prisons of Snezynayan, and she has fought countless enemies. Arlecchino is all but weak, and yet she crumbles from a mere innocent question, from a child of all people.

“Yes, you can call me Perrie,” she answers far too quickly then she would like to. 

The Harbinger traverses around the Fontainian streets with the child in her arms as they look for adults similar to Clervie's description. They seem nothing like Crucabena, Peruere notes.

“Perrie, why did you stop when I asked you your name?” is the first question that Clervie asks on their search.

“You remind me of someone that I knew.” 

“Oh…” Silence, then, “You're really tall. Do you think I can be tall like you?” 

You never got the chance to, Peruere almost says, but dismisses it immediately. “I do not see why not. You have plenty more to grow.” 

Clervie hums, before her attention flits to Peruere's hands. “How come your hands are like that?”

“I painted them,” Peruere says and winces at the answer her mind conjured up. Nonetheless, it's more than convincing to the child.

“Wow… they look really cool! You painted them yourself?”

“I did.”

“Can I touch them?” 

“I suppose.” 

The conversation flows as awkwardly as one would expect with a six-year-old. Peruere is now privy to random tidbits of this Clervie's life: her favorite pastimes, preferred animal, and favored dishes, and favorite plants. The Harbinger finds it unsurprising that this Clervie still pleasures in reading novels, ravishes cake, and admires Lumodice Bells. Then she discusses why she had been out earlier today: her parents intended on getting her new clothes but lost her after she was distracted by the window displays of a bakery. 

Peruere allows her to talk, wordlessly indulging in the youthful spirit that this Clervie exhibits. It is nearly evening when Clervie exclaims sighting her parents, and Peruere hesitantly approaches the couple. 

It takes more strength than Peruere knew she possessed to let Clervie down. Clervie sprints to her parent's arms without a second thought. Clervie's parents thank Peruere for reuniting them, and promise Clervie that they would visit the bakery to buy the cake she eyeing so much.  

It is clear that Clervie has her own life to attend to. Fate chose to be merciful to her, and Peruere knows she cannot interfere with Clervie's life more, no matter how much she wishes it. Clervie is content, without Peruere.  

Arlecchino turns on her heel, intending to leave without an additional word, but Clervie calls out to her, waving frantically. 

“Bye-bye Perrie! Thank you so much!” 

Peruere glances back over her shoulder, a faint smile stretching on her lips. 

“Goodbye Clervie.” 

In your next life, let us know each other more familiarly. Until then, live the carefree life we both yearned for. 

[superpowereddonut]

Favour for a Friend (Sirius Black x Reader) - Part 2

Thank you so much for all the love on part 1 - I truly didn't think anyone would even read it, so to have people like, comment and reblog was insane!! When I started writing part 2 it sort of got away from me, so I've already started writing part 3 and will post it very soon. I'm sorry for the huge break between part 1 and 2 - it took me this long to stop freaking out about people reading my writing. Thanks again to everyone who liked or commented on the first part, you seriously don't know what it meant to me <3

I hope you like this part! It's about the same length as the last one but I'm hoping to write longer parts going forward.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader (No use of Y/N or a name)

A/N: set at Hogwarts, fake dating trope

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 1493

Read Part 1 here.

*****

“I think I’m dating Sirius Black”. Marlene promptly fell off her bed and Lily and Mary just blinked up at her with matching expressions of bewilderment. She threw herself onto her own neatly-made bed and quickly explained what had happened downstairs in the common room. When she got to the ‘fake’ part, her three best friends’ astonishment quickly faded into near-hysterical amusement. Marlene wasn’t even able to get back up, she was laughing so hard.

“Oh come on Marls, it’s not that funny!”

“Ha!” she wheezed from where she rolled on the ground, “Sirius ‘Cassanova’ Black has agreed to be your fake boyfriend?”

“Yes”, she mumbled.

“The same Sirius Black who is a known commitment-a-phobe?”

“...Yes”

“The same Sirius Black who once said that a serious relationship sounds worse than cruciatus?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Yes! That Sirius!” She exclaimed, prompting Marlene to dissolve into another fit of giggles.

Lily took a much gentler approach. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” She asked tentatively. “I mean, you’ve always sort of had a crush on him, even if you do constantly complain that he’s an arrogant prick. Don’t you think pretending to date him might get a bit… confusing?” 

“What choice do I have?” She asked a bit desperately, “I needed to get Davis off my back and Sirius stepped up! I can’t back out now! And,” she added quickly, “I wouldn’t say that I have a crush, per se...”

“Why did Sirius agree, do you think?” Mary suddenly asked. 

“I don’t know. I asked why he changed his mind and he just said something about doing favours for friends before going off to bed. Why do you think he did?” She didn’t miss the meaningful glance the three girls shared at her question. “What?”

“Well it could be because he has a crush on you…” Lily piped up

“Oh not this again! Sirius Black does not have a crush on me!” 

“But he always flirts with you--” Lily urged.

“He flirts with everyone”.

“And he always tries to impress you--” Marlene continued.

“Again, he does that with everyone”.

“And he always tries to make you laugh--” Mary chimed in.

She scoffed loudly. “Am I really meant to think these are all signs that Sirius Black - the well-known flirt, show-off and joker - has a crush on me? Besides, we argue half the time anyway!”

Lily sighed, recognising the lost cause. “So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged, “Pretend to be Black’s girlfriend, I s’pose.”

*****

It turned out that pretending to be Sirius Black’s girlfriend was not difficult at all. In fact, it felt shockingly normal. The morning after their display in the common room, she went down to breakfast with her roommates as usual, the only change being that instead of sitting between Marlene and Mary, she planted herself on Marlene’s other side next to Sirius, who barely even glanced her way before lifting an arm and tucking her into his side. 

He did it so easily - as though he did it every morning. As though her heart wasn’t galloping fast enough she felt lightheaded. 

The day continued similarly - she still went to her classes and laughed with her friends, only now Sirius offered to carry her books and remained at her side in the corridors. But throughout it all, he was still the same Sirius Black that she’d known since she was eleven. They still bickered and bantered all the way to transfiguration, but now they did so with their hands intertwined.

What was decidedly not normal, however, was everyone else’s reactions to their new ‘relationship’. Gossip always spread quickly at Hogwarts, but even she was impressed when the entire student body seemed to know by lunch that the two of them were dating. Although, between Sirius’ status as one of the most attractive boys in their year, and his reputation for being a player, she really shouldn’t have been surprised. However, where she expected shock and confusion, she was instead met with amused whispers and eyerolls. A Gryffindor girl in the year below even had the gall to corner her in the girls loo to ask her what she did to get Black to “finally make it official”. It seemed most people weren’t surprised that her and Sirius were an ‘item’, they just wanted to know how she had gotten the notorious heartbreaker to commit. Several times throughout the day she had to force herself to stop dwelling on her friends’ words about his (absolutely non-existent!) crush on her the night before. "It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real", became her silent mantra every time Sirius grabbed her hand or gallantly held open a door.

All in all, by the end of the day she felt incredibly flustered and was already wondering if the whole thing had been a mistake. Her friends, of course, simply found her discomfort highly entertaining, and so after dinner when they all headed to the library to study for their upcoming OWLs, she took the opportunity for some peace and quiet, walking instead to Gryffindor tower. She strode straight for her favourite couch in front of the fireplace, and stretched along the length of it with a sigh. But Sirius appeared before she could get truly comfortable, unceremoniously lifting her legs so he could sit down before settling them back across his lap. For the benefit of any housemates watching, she reminded herself sternly. She arched a brow at him and he grinned. “What?” He asked innocently. 

“The ‘Sirius Black Girlfriend Experience’ isn’t quite what I expected.” She admitted. 

“In what way?”

“You’re very…affectionate.”

His fingers stilled where they had started absentmindedly drawing circles on her shins. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile, ducking his head so his silky black hair fell into his face. It was such a thoroughly un-Sirius display of uncertainty that she blurted, “I didn’t mean I don’t like it! It… er… it’s nice.” She finished, blushing furiously, but Sirius didn’t seem inclined to tease her - he just smiled and resumed his idle touches.

After a beat of silence, he pressed, “Are you sure it’s okay? You’ve been a bit tense all day.”

“Yeah it’s okay. I was just a bit caught off guard, that’s all.”

Sirius hummed and then, with a quick glance around them, pulled out his wand and cast muffliato so they wouldn’t be overheard. “Maybe we should set some boundaries, then.” He said, “So you know what to expect and I don’t make you uncomfortable.” 

Sirius Black, The Gryffindor Troublemaker, was loud, boisterous, and rarely took other people’s feelings’ into consideration. It usually fell to James and Remus to deal with the consequences of his impulsivity. But this Sirius - the one whose expression was soft and open in the flickering light of the fire, his eyes serious and focussed entirely on her… This Sirius was thoughtful and considerate. He had agreed to act as her boyfriend - effectively cock-blocking himself for the foreseeable future - and now he was offering rules (a word she didn’t even think was in his vocabulary) just to ensure her comfort. It made her head spin. Sirius Black was dangerous enough when he was nauseatingly arrogant, but if he turned out to be secretly kind? Oh she would be fucked.

She hadn’t realised she had been staring - or that she hadn’t answered his question - until he nudged her. “What kind of boundaries?” She asked a bit weakly.

“The touching, for one. Anything off limits?” The corner of his mouth was turned upwards in a teasing smile, and relief washed over her at the sight. This was familiar territory, at least. She was used to teasing Sirius. “You’re not allowed to grab my ass at breakfast, if that’s what you’re asking, Black.” She shot back, and he chuckled. “But everything else you did today… Like I said, it was nice”. 

He nodded. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, despite the rapid uptick in her heart rate at his words. “Why? Planning to snog me in the great hall?”

“Would you want me to?” Was his only reply, though she could have sworn his gaze flicked to her lips for a moment.

She paused. “I think people would get suspicious if we claimed to be dating but never actually kissed. So, if the situation calls for it… Then I guess it’s not off limits.”

He just nodded again. “And what do you want me to tell people?” He asked. Confused, she only tilted her head in question. “I’ve had heartbroken boys coming up to me all day asking how I managed to ensnare you. How do you want me to explain our relationship to your admirers?” She rolled her eyes at his dramatics. She was willing to bet that exactly zero “admirers” had approached Sirius, bemoaning her no longer being single. “I don’t mind how you explain it to all the despairing young men,” she replied with a shrug, “all our friends know the truth anyway.” 

“Maybe not all of them…” Sirius winced, “I may have forgotten to tell Pete.”

[nethhiri]

Chapter 61: In Front Of My Salad?

Warnings: sex, temporary genital reassigment

Waahhhhh! It took so long to get this to you guys and it ended up being almost 3x the length of a normal chapter. I hope that makes up for the break 😭

The only thing that could pry Kid off you was the dinner bell. He had you pinned to the wall as soon as you walked out of the brig, predictable as always. His hand gripped your hair, holding your mouth to his and you reciprocated. If you were a normal couple, the assorted gore splattered across your faces would probably turn you off, but you weren't normal, so it did quite the opposite. He clearly wasn't sated by jerking off for however long by the way he was grinding against you. You had to hold back from snickering at him. It was kind of cute that he missed you so badly. You missed him, too, but you had more self-control about it. Both Kid's stomach and his mouth growled at the bell. If he wasn't so hungry, he wouldn't have stopped. 

"Ya wanna pick this up after we eat?" Kid lightly panted, orange eyes hopeful. 

"I'll think about it." You may have let him pin you, but he still had some forgiveness to earn. 

"HAH? What do ya mean yer gonna think about it?!"

You did snicker then, walking away from Kid to the mess hall. Kid ran past you, smacking your ass hard on the way and forcing an unexpected yelp out of you. He cackled but made the mistake of turning away from you to carry on walking. Two can play this game. You swiftly and silently walked up behind him and slapped both hands down on his cheeks before darting away. Without realizing it, you were giggling. When you turned to stick your tongue out at him, you saw that he was grinning in a way that made it hard not to let him catch you. He still had a playful energy, but it was different. You were familiar with that face. He might not actually stop for dinner if he caught you. He chased you around the halls, dodging crewmates just trying to go eat. Kid got close to snagging you, though he could never quite get a grasp, until he used his devil fruit to cheat. The wind was knocked out of you as metal wrapped around your center.

"Gotcha now, little mouse."

Kid was full on laughing, very pleased with his catch. It wouldn't last long. When he got closer, you used your own fruit to shrink just slightly enough to slip out of the metal. And, of course, before running back to the galley, you couldn't resist giving him a good spank again. 

"You'll have to do better than that, kitty cat." 

"I'M NOT A KITTY CAT!" 

"Oooo da big puddy tat is angwy." You made a pouty face at him. You were really poking the bull here, but you loved making Kid mad. He was so cute when he was mad. 

"YER GONNA BE SORRY YA LITTLE BITCH."

"Am I a bitch or a mouse? Make up your mind." 

With a huff, Kid charged at you and you took off running again, giggling the entire time. 

"YA WON'T BE LAUGHING WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YA!"

Maybe Kid got a little to into it. You were just about to slide through a doorway and Kid used his fruit to slam the door shut, which you, in turn, slammed into. You felt a soft crunch in your nose and a gush of warm wetness slide down your face. The force of the impact knocked you backwards right on your ass, dazing you for a second. 

"FUCK! SORRY!" 

You blinked unevenly and sat up. Your nose was definitely broken. It honestly didn't hurt that badly. You wiped away the wetness and looked at your hand, seeing the bright crimson of blood on the back. Kid's footsteps stopped behind you. When he got closer he bent down to get on your level, to make sure you were okay. About a second too late, he could tell from your face that he'd made a mistake. You grinned at him, blood still trickling from your nose.

"Oh shit," he muttered.

You popped him right in the nose, giving him a busted face to match your own. Then you leap-frogged over him while he still had his hand cradling his already fucked up nose. Now you both had blood gushing from your nose. You shoved him with your foot, knocking him over, before darting away. You turned to glare at him and he returned the lighthearted malice. It was on.

"Look at that. You made me as ugly as you." You wiped blood on your arm again.

"Ya didn't need my help to get there," Kid retorted.

"I'm gonna rearrange your face. Maybe that would be an improvement."

Kid bellowed out a laugh. "Try it, Rotten." 

The two of you traded a few light punches, blocking each other so none of them actually landed. It didn't take long before you were throwing real punches between each other. Both of you were too competitive and too stubborn to let the other one get the upper hand. Still, you both held back, not really wanting to hurt the other. That lasted about thirty seconds. It was a bit nostalgic to beat the snot out of each other. It reminded you of when you first came aboard and you tried to kill each other every other day. The hallway was filled with hurled insults and assorted growling. You landed a hit on his Adam's apple and caused him to sputter. Using that opportunity, you got him in the stomach while he was too busy holding his throat to block you. Then, you put a kick right above his center of gravity, causing him to stumble backwards and fall. You jumped on him and the two of you grappled on the floor, trying to gain the upper hand. Kid pinned you down fairly soon after, using his size to his advantage.

He let out a raspy laugh. "Ready to admit defeat, pipsqueak!?" 

No amount of hissing, spitting, or struggling was going to break you out of his grasp. There was only one thing left, your secret move: kiss with tongue. You leaned up and kissed him, licking the blood from his lower lip. It worked as you knew it would, immediately taking Kid's guard down. You pushed yourself out from under him, grabbed his arm, and twisted it behind his back. Kid was forced to lay on his stomach. Your knee rested on his back and you leaned down to be close to his ear.

"I changed my mind. I'm not going to rearrange your face. I'm going to rearrange your guts." You purred. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Kid made a noise between a whine and a growl, trying to cover up how much he actually did want that.

"Tell me you'll be a good boy for me."

"I'M NOT DOING THAT."

"C'mon... doesn't my good boy want to be pegged?"

Kid mumbled something. 

"I can't hear you." You twisted his arm further.

"OW OW! YER GOOD BO-"

A throat cleared. You both looked toward the noise to see Killer, and everyone else in the mess hall. So you guys had made it to dinner after all. You let Kid go and stood up. Kid stayed on the floor and you raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"You good?" You bent down to make sure you didn't accidentally maim him in some way.

Kid harshly whispered back, "Just go! I have a raging fucking boner now ya asshole. I have ta wait a sec."

You snickered and turned to the staring faces. "What are you all staring at?" They didn't look away. "I'm not fuckin apologizing! Turn around and eat!" You made your way to sit next to Killer. 

"You didn't get a plate."

"Feed me from yours."

You could practically see the steam come out of the holes in his mask as his neck turned pink. With your devil fruit, you healed your nose and some of the bruises. You also cleaned your face before eating. Kid finally fell into the chair beside you with a mountain of food in front of him as Killer offered you a bite from his plate. You made sure you kept as much eye contact as possible when you took food off Killer's fork, guaranteeing that you were about to have a long night. At first you only wanted to tease Kid, but maybe Killer would like to be in on it, too.  You put a hand on Killer's thigh, giving it a squeeze when he gave you the next bite. You really played up the "mmm"s, too. 

"I'm trying to fucking eat over here." Wire annoyedly said. 

"Yeah and I'm trying to fuck and eat over here," you replied. "You're just jealous."

"Of what?"

"That Heat's not jerking you off under the table."

"YER JERKIN KILLER OFF UNDER THE TABLE!" Kid sprayed food, shouting in an accusatory tone. 

You laughed. "Not yet."

Killer was holding your wrist, preventing you from moving further up his thigh. Of note, his grip was not very tight and he seemed to be considering letting go the more he fed you. Kid noticeably moved his chair closer on your other side.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

Kid scoffed. "Moving closer so ya can reach my dick."

"I'd rather give Wire and Heat a foot job." You could barely reach them with your feet from across the table, but you could do it.

Heat choked on his food. 

"My horoscope said not to participate in foot stuff this week," Wire remarked.

"Your what now?"

Killer nudged you with his elbow and spoke lowly in your direction. "Don't say anything smart. He takes his sexstrology very seriously."

You gave him an incredulous look. His fucking what?

"Mine said I need a hand job under the table or I'll die," Kid said, before shoving more food into his mouth. 

"What kind of funeral do you want?" You replied.

Killer added, "What should your headstone say?"

"FUCK BOTH OF YA!"

"Bet you'd like to," you smirked.

"Watch it or I'll carry ya off from this table right now!"

"Killer will save me. Right, Killer?"

"Of course. Can't let my darlin leave the table hungry." Killer gave you another bite from his plate to punctuate his reply.

"You all make me want to throw up." Wire curled his lip.

Heat sighed from the other side of the table, pushing his food around with his fork. "Man... now I really want a foot job."

"No feet until you finish your vegetables," Killer reminded him.

Heat groaned. 

How you so loved your fucked up found family. One could say you loved Heat and Wire like brothers, but you had fucked them and that was frowned upon in three out of four oceans. Kid and Killer were probably closer to you than anyone had ever been. It was something you never imagined you would have. They were far from perfect to most, but to you they were pretty close. It was nice, being able to take it in with two eyes. This was your family now. This was your home. This was the first place that you could even call home. You'd never felt this comfortable during your time in the marines. Even when you were a captain, both in the marines and as a pirate, you never felt this way. 

"How was today's torture?" Killer's words pulled you from your thoughts. He asked it in the same way someone would ask "How was your day at work, honey?" 

"Eh, fine. I'm getting bored with them."

"Find anything out?" 

"Not really. He wouldn't give up Von Kossa." You continued. "He said my ship was on Gomori island, but I don't know if I believe him."

"That's good, right?" Heat asked.

You shrugged. "I miss my ship. She served me well. But what use would I have for a ship? I'm part of this crew now. Victoria is my ship now."

"Aw you decided you liked us?" Killer playfully cooed.

"Just you, blondie." You leaned into him and looked up at his masked face.

"HAH?!" Kid protested. 

You winked at him and blew a kiss, instantly lighting his face up with pink. That shut him up quickly. 

He folded his arms and tried not to let his pink cheeks bother him. "That's what I fucking thought." 

"So you're going to kill them?" Wire asked, getting back to the prisoners. 

"Eventually. I did cut Warthin's skin off to send to marine HQ. I made them carve an apology into it." You tapped your fingers on the table like you were bored, Killer's arms now around you as you rested your head on his chest.

"Fuck yeah you should have seen 'er!" Kid went on, describing in great detail all your revenge endeavors loudly and with enthusiasm. "It was fuckin awesome. Plus, she's hot as fuck when  she's being an evil bitch."

As Kid talked, even some of the more senior Kid Pirates turned white and excused themselves. In fact, a good portion of the crew left, glad that they were already done eating, and at risk of losing the food they just ate. 

Kid gushing about you brought a small smile to the corner of your lips. "Kid ripped a guy's arm off with his devil fruit. Without using pieces of metal."

"What?" Heat leaned in, curious.

"There's iron in blood. No reason Kid shouldn't be able to control it."

Even Wire seemed impressed. 

"I'm basically unstoppable now." Kid gloated. "I don't think we need to do any of this alliance bullshit."

"What alliance?" This was the first you were hearing of it. 

Killer answered, "We're meeting Scratchman Apoo and Hawkins the Magician at one of our hideouts."

"I didn't even know you had a hideout."

"Yeah cuz it's a secret hideout." Kid said smugly. 

You rolled your eyes. "I have to agree with Kid, as much as it pains me. We don't need an alliance."

Killer sighed. "The other supernovas have made alliances. I don't want us to be outnumbered if they decide to come after us."

He kind of had a point but that didn't make you like it any better. You didn't want to talk about business anyway. "I'm trying to form an alliance, too. Between my mouth and your-" Killer swiftly covered your mouth.

"Settle down. You'll get your alliance if you behave until everyone is done." Killer took meal time very seriously, evidenced by him slapping your hand away from his fly for the past twenty minutes.

"I don't want to behave."

"Come sit with me, bunny. I don't want ya to behave."

"Ooooo... Come sit with me, bunny." There was a chorus of echoes and cackling coming from the direction of Dive, Quincy, and Emma.

You sat up and shot a glare at them. They were among the last remaining crew in the mess hall. Heat rose to your cheeks as Kid used your more private pet name in front of your friends. 

"Shut up!"

"Bunny is mad," Dive teased. 

You clenched your teeth. Those traitors. How could they turn on you like this? You were about to bite off a retort to Kid, but now his lap was looking tempting. Even if it was only because you wanted to get back at your friends. You didn't really like public displays of affection. Public displays of lust though? That didn't fall under that category. They should know by now that you weren't shy. You raised an eyebrow at them, accepting the game they wanted to play, and hinting that you would win. You moved from your spot to stand in front of Kid, straddling his lap, looking over your shoulder pointedly at the girls. 

"I hope you saved room for dessert." It killed you a little inside to say something so cheesy, but disgusting your friends was of utmost importance. You pulled your shirt off and tossed it away. Then you undid your pants and let them drop over your hips, sliding off the rest of the way when you moved Kid's empty plate and pushed yourself up on the table to take its place. 

"OH FUCK YES I DID." Kid wasted no time pushing you down flat on the table, kissing all over your neck and chest.

Killer made a disapproving noise, though he had definitely also imagined it a time or two. 

"We're still here!" Quincy protested. 

"I don't mind an audience." This was a game of chicken that you weren't going to lose because you truly did not care who stayed to watch. 

They lasted as long as it took for Kid to put your legs on his shoulders to eat you out, which was only about thirty seconds. 

"No! Nope! You win! We're out of here." Quincy pushed the other two girls out with her. 

You nudged Kid away and sat up cackling. Although you did want to finish this scene out, you still hadn't appropriately punished Kid. You couldn't let him have what he wanted that easily. 

Wire was still eating like nothing had happened and Heat was noticeably uncomfortable but not for embarrassment reasons. With your eye, you could see Heat's heart rate spiking. Killer had his arms folded and was shaking his head at the both of you. 

"Hah? What's the deal? I thought we were bangin." Kid was halfway irritated. 

You leaned over and kissed Killer's mask. "Sorry, Kil." You leaned further and whispered in his ear. "Join us later?"

Killer tapped his fork on his plate, pointing to the last bite. Did he care that much if you cleared the plate? Not really, though he hated wasting food. Did he want to feed you while you were in your underwear on top of the table? Absolutely. And he would treasure that mental picture.

You rolled your eyes and let him give you the last bite. Then he nodded and gave you a hum of approval.

"Can you please move your big ass away from my dinner?" Wire's annoyed voice said.

"I'll put it right on your plate, big boy."

"I just wanted a pleasant, ass-free meal," Wire sighed. 

Heat made a face. "Not what you said yesterday."

Wire smiled at him. "Your ass is much cuter than hers, my ember."

"Events in the crow's nest beg to differ," you smugly replied, getting off the table and picking your clothes up. 

"I FUCKING KNEW IT! Kid pointed at Wire. "DID YA PISS ON MY GIRLFRIEND?! HAH? DID YA?"

Wire smirked arrogantly. "Everyone begs for it in the end."

Now the whole crow's nest thing was making sense, but more shocking than the implication Wire has claimed nearly every single person on this ship, were Kid's choice of words. You and Killer looked at each other, though for differing reasons.

"My?" Killer huffed. "How about our?"

"Girlfriend?" You blinked. "What the fuck? I'm not your girlfriend." When had that been decided? 

Kid suddenly went red. "THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID! I SAID BURL FRIEND!" Kid sputtered. "THERE'S A BURL ON THE MAST THAT I PARTICULARLY LIKE."

Everyone stared at him skeptically.  

Kid let out a frustrated growl and stomped off to his room. "SHUT UP!"

You stood there with your clothes in your hands. It was silent for a brief pause while everyone stared at each other.

Killer stuck a finger through one of the holes in his mask. "Nose goes."

Wire and Heat already had their fingers on their noses.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Your hand covered your nose. Was there something on it? Did you not fix it correctly?

"Last one to touch their nose has to goes." Killer was smirking under his mask. You knew he was.

You mumbled, "I was gonna goes- go anyway." You still fully intended on getting laid and it wasn't very hard to put Kid in a better mood with those intentions. Someone had to make sure the captain wasn't actually pissed.

When you got to Kid's cabin, you tossed your clothes on the ground. The shower was running. You contemplated joining him, but you wanted to give him time to calm down and you were already clean, courtesy of your devil fruit. You flopped on Kid's bed in the meantime, resting your eyes. There was a shift in weight on the bed that alerted you to Kid's presence. You must have dozed off lightly. He had a towel around his waist and his back was to you. Beads of water rolled down his broad back. You stretched and pulled yourself up, moving to wrap your arms around his neck. You leaned against his back and rested your head on his shoulder. 

"Hey."

Kid grumbled. 

You kissed his neck. "What's wrong? I thought it didn't bother you if I was with other people."

"It doesn't." 

"So what is it?" It was probably the 'girlfriend' slip-up, but you weren't ready to talk about that yet. The term made you uncomfortable. 

Kid didn't say anything.

Your hands meandered down his body until they met the edge of the towel, tugging it until it loosened up. He wasn't stopping you. "I missed you," you offered. 

He turned slightly, maybe to see if you were being serious or not. "Missed ya, too. Brat."

"Me? A brat? I don't think so."

Kid turned fully, putting himself above your body. "Yer about the biggest brat I know." 

You leaned back and pushed yourself back further on the bed so Kid had enough room. "What did I do?" You licked your lips with anticipation.

"Ya know what ya been doing. Teasin me all day when ya know how bad I want ya."

You rolled your eyes. "I was gonna fuck you eventually. No need to be dramatic about it."

"It's not about that." Kid grumbled. "Not completely." 

"What do you mean?" You thought he'd been dying to fuck you.

Kid groaned. "Are ya really gonna make me explain?" His amber eyes met your own and flicked away. "I want ta be close to ya. Aye, I wanna fuck ya. But I want to lay with ya and hold ya, too. I missed ya so much, Rotten." Kid leaned down and kissed you. "So much... Yer never leaving my side."

"Yeah?" You kissed him back. "Ya gonna chain me up?"

"Gonna hafta make ya another collar." Kid grinned, tracing a finger over your neck. 

"Make it a whole harness. Just to be safe." Goosebumps erupted on your skin at the sensation, reminding you how long it had been since you were with Kid intimately. 

Kid continued to trace a design over your torso. "Anything for my bunny... What else does she want?" 

Your eyes drifted up and down his large frame above you and grinned. You were finally able to look at him with two eyes. "To tease you just a little bit more."

Kid groaned and pressed his face into your neck, the low noise having a direct effect on your body. 

"You said anything." 

"Aye... but I thought ya were gonna say something sexy like "Yer giant fat cock, captain.""

You laughed. "It'll be worth your while." You splayed a hand on his chest and pushed him until he rolled onto his back. You took his place, now on top of him. When he still looked dubious, you added, "I'll do whatever you want next time."

"Ya sure ya wanna offer that?" He toyed with the band of your panties. 

You straddled him, leaning down to bite his neck. "I know you'll show me a good time, captain." You knew he was especially partial to calling him by his title. 

He wasted no time in ripping your bra and panties off, tossing the scraps to the floor. It took the entirety of his self-restraint to resist flipping you on your back and savaging you. He wanted to be inside you so badly. He took what he could get, kissing you hard until you pulled away to breathe, groping all the squishiest parts of your body until you restrained his hand. It was probably for the best that you decided to tease him first, because he didn't think he would last very long if you went straight to taking him. Even now, as your breath ghosted over his tip, it was so tempting to grab your head and push you down on it until you choked. Just thinking about it caused precum to ooze from his cock. 

You licked the clear-ish fluid from the slit. "Leaking for me already? You did miss me."

Kid whined, dick twitching and releasing more thin fluid. 

You spread the precum over his shaft with your hand. You swear that it felt bigger and harder than it normally did. It was tempting to stray from your plan and ride him for all he was worth. When his eyes closed, you took the opportunity. With your devil fruit, you incapacitated him. You left him able to feel everything, but he wasn't able to move. Then, very carefully, with precision, you took his dick. You weren't absolutely certain that you could do it, or that it would work. Yet, Kid's disembodied cock was in your hand, just as hard as it had been. It was a living dildo. 

When Kid realized he couldn't move, his eyes flew open, and instantly noticed what was missing. "WHAT HAPPENED TO MY COCK?!" He was panicked. 

"Shhhh. I'll take good care of it." You showed it to him.

He watched with lust-filled eyes as you got it wet with your mouth, sticking it as far down your throat as you could without gagging. "I- I can't feel it!"

"You're not supposed to feel it. This is for my pleasure alone." You were still sitting on top of him and leaned back to give him a nice view. "I'm going to fuck myself and I'm going to cum all over your cock, and you won't feel a thing."

You let your legs fall open and you ran the tip of his cock through your folds a few times, spreading the wetness evenly over it. Then, just as if you were pleasuring yourself with a dildo, you pushed his cock into you. Kid's eyes were glued to where his cock was disappearing inside you. It had been too long since you last had Kid's girth splitting you in two. You wanted him to rail you within an inch of your life. This was a tease for both of you, though you could at least feel it. 

Kid groaned. "Yer so fuckin wet." He didn't have a dick to twitch but he felt his balls tighten hearing the squelch of your cunt. He wanted to feel your slick all over his shaft, not just see it glint in the light. Kid was salivating, thinking about how good you would taste on his tongue and how he wanted to bury his face between your thighs. Anything. He needed to touch you.

You could see it in Kid’s face how desperate he was to get his hands on you. Thinking about giving him control back so he could ravish you made your cunt clench around his cock. He wasn’t the only one who was primed to finish early. He had you pent up since he had pinned you to the wall earlier. Hell, even fighting him made you a little wetter. And all the teasing at the table wasn’t just taunting him. 

You brought the hand that was holding you up to rub your clit. It was a strain to stay sitting so that he could watch but it wouldn’t take long. You fucked yourself faster with your living dildo and made fast circles around your clit. Your breathing got heavier and your eyes struggled to stay open as you focused on your release. The fire in your belly was intensified from the burning in your abs of holding yourself up. 

“Fuck yer almost there. Cum fer yer captain.” Kid encouraged.

A heady wail escaped your lips as the fire in your belly spread in waves through your body. “Oh fuck! M’cumming!” 

The walls of your pussy clamped down on Kid’s disembodied shaft, spasming and twitching around it until your orgasm subsided. You let yourself lay back and catch your breath, Kid groaning in the background.

“Fuck my balls hurt.” Kid reached down to cradle them, well he thought he did, but he was still incapacitated. “I think… I came?”

“You did?”

“Aye… but there’s nowhere for my boys to go and now they’re fighting to get out,” Kid punctuated the sentence with another groan, one that wasn’t completely pain.

You removed Kid’s dick from inside you and sat up on him again, scooting lower so you could reattach his manhood.

“No!”

That took you off guard. “No?”

“I- had an idea.”

“But you said your nuts hurt.”

Kid whispered in a confused tone, “I think I kinda like it.”

“Do you now?” You grinned, leaning down to kiss his neck and fondling his balls with your hand. You gave them a gentle squeeze, increasing the pressure until he whined. “What’s this idea you have?”

“Will ya… will ya peg me with my own dick?”

“I know everyone says you’re stupid, but you’re a genius today.”

“HAH? Everyone says I’m stupid? WHO?”

“Shhh it’s okay. They’re mostly right.” You pressed your lips over his to shut him up and gave him control of his body back.

After a few minutes of figuring out the logistics of temporary penis attachment surgery, you used your devil fruit to make it happen. You didn’t give Kid your pussy, although that might be something fun to try later. You didn’t know what the mental consequences of willy nilly willy swapping would be. It could potentially induce some kind of dysphoria and you were not about to be responsible for that when this was supposed to be fun sex.

You stared down at the new appendage, appreciating the heft of it even when it was soft. It had lost its hardness in the attachment process. You gave it an experimental touch. It was a weird sensation. You had essentially replaced your clit with it since it was an analogous body part. You twisted your hips so it slapped your thighs with a rhythmic *plap plap plap plap*. 

“Would ya stop playin with it and get it hard?”

“But it’s fun!” You tried to helicopter it but couldn’t get the motion right. “Besides… I think *you* need to get it hard.” You looked between him and it. 

With only balls and a butthole to his name, Kid, almost timidly, took his own softened cock in his mouth. Your eyes widened for a moment at the sensation. It was like he was sucking on your clit, yet more than that. You didn’t have the words to describe it. Needless to say, you got hard almost instantly. 

“Oh fuck. Now I know why you’re always taking so long in the fucking shower.” You grabbed his head and tried to make him gag on it like he did to you, yet he didn’t. It pissed you off a little that he was better at taking dick in his mouth than you were.

Kid wiped his mouth. “What? Ya didn’t think I could suck dick, princess?”

“Shut up and turn around. All fours er- all threes.”

Kid did as he was told, bitching about your “all threes” quip. He lost the ability to taunt you fairly soon after you lubed up your fingers and put them in his ass. 

“Too bad you gave me your cock or I would give you a reach around, too.”

Kid groaned. His whiny groan turned into full moaning when you remembered how sensitive his balls were and started playing with them. You added another finger to his ass, though you were starting to doubt that your tiny hand was enough to prep him for his own huge dick. 

“Just fucking put it in,” Kid growled. 

“You need more time.”

“No the fuck I don’t. Fuck me already!” He said it as a command but the tone had the tiniest edge of desperation.

“Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?” You chided. 

“I’m yer fucking cap-TAH AH!”

You squeezed his balls. “Sorry? What was that?”

You removed your fingers and wiped the excess down your shaft. Adding more to the tip, you pressed it against his opening. You heard him suck in a breath and stifle a moan as you pushed into him. For your own sake, you had to go slow. The feeling was so foreign, yet so pleasurable. You didn’t know if you could keep going if you came or not. In theory, you should, since it was wired the same as your clit in this context, though you still held it back. You didn’t want to come off as needy as Kid. 

Kid buried his face in the pillow as you started moving, trying to muffle how much he was enjoying himself. You brought a hand down on the pale skin of his ass, forcing a startled yelp from him. You understood now why Kid liked this position so much when the roles were reversed. You had a lovely view of your cock disappearing inside him, his ass was in your hands, and you could stare at his beautiful, broad, muscular back.

After several minutes, when you got the hang of it, you gained some confidence. Your nails dug into Kid’s hips and pulled him harshly against you, not dissimilar to what he did to you when he pummeled your cervix. He gave up trying to hide his pleasure, now crying out with every thrust. Some of the cries sounded a bit more pained, no doubt in part to his balls still aching from the pressure of the release that couldn’t go anywhere. You slowed down, thinking that you heard something and trying to listen closer. 

“Please… faster,” Kid was panting and his eyes were half-lidded, face turned to the side so he could see you. 

Those eyes turned you on. They were lost in ecstasy. You reached up and stroked his hair away from his face to see them more clearly. “You’re so pretty like this.” You leaned over to kiss his back, unable to reach his face. “Can you show me that pretty face when you cum?”

He made an unintelligible mumble as you started fucking him faster again.

“Can’t hear you. Be a good boy and use your words.”

“Ah- Aye, Captain.”

Your lips curled up. You liked the sound of that. Curious, that Kid had spontaneously addressed you that way. Kid and Killer must play at some role reversal occasionally. You were wishing that you had thought ahead and made him wear a collar, because then you could grab it for leverage and also to choke him. The thought made your cunt clench around nothing. Poor girl, she was being neglected. You gave the room a cursory glance to see if any toys were in reach. You could get off Kid and grab one, yet the thought of unsheathing your cock from Kid’s asshole deterred you from that. It was so warm and tight around you. Now you understood why people with dicks had a hard time pulling out. You felt the coil in your center tighten.

“Ah fuck,” you groaned. “Your ass is sucking me in.” You slapped his other asscheek, giving it a red handprint to match the other. 

Kid started moving in sync with you, throwing his hips back when you thrust forward. 

You paused your thrusting, giving Kid a chance to set his own pace. “That’s right. Fuck yourself on my cock.” 

You shuddered and sighed as Kid moved up and down your shaft. Watching his ass bounce on it was mesmerizing. You didn’t expect that much jiggle from something so muscular. You moved your hips to his pace, letting him lead. As your thrusts went harder and deeper, Kid became more vocal. Kid’s moans filled the room, making you a bit jealous that you didn’t have the same satisfactory penetration. Again, you looked around for something to aid in your own pleasure. 

This time when your eyes surveyed the room, there was motion in your vision. You could make out the form of a person but it was so far in your periphery, you couldn’t tell much more than that. With a startled yelp, you pulled out of Kid, dick making a comical *ploop* as it exited. To your relief, it was only Killer. He had joined you both at some point, as requested. He was lazily slumped back in a chair with his jeans pulled down and his hand was palming himself through his underwear. His head cocked to the side as he took notice of the new addition to your body.

“Is that…?” Killer made a curious noise. “I was wondering how you were doing that.”

He stepped out of his jeans and pulled off his shirt as he made his way to the bed. Killer snaked his hand down Kid’s front, finding only balls. Kid flinched at his touch, still sensitive.

“Mm so full. Does it hurt?”

Kid nodded.

“Can you handle more?”

Kid took slightly longer but nodded again.

Killer hummed approvingly. “Good. I want you in tears.” Killer turned his attention to you. “Do you mind if I join?”

You found yourself at a loss for words as his hand stroked your newest appendage. You had been so close to finishing, it was quite sensitive. When you finally adjusted to the sensation and tried to answer him, he slipped his fingers into your cunt. He curled them at the same time he stroked your cock, bringing you right to the edge of finishing again, stopping just before you got there. He was doing this on purpose. 

“Killer, you’re- such a fucking t-tease.”

“You almost had it, breadcrumb.” Killer slipped his fingers out of your cunt, admiring the strands of fluid clinging to his fingers. “But no one can fuck Kid like me.”

“He was about to finish!”

“No, I wasn’t,” Kid protested. 

“Shut up, Kid.” You and Killer replied nearly in unison. 

Kid made a low whine and returned his face to the pillow.

Killer returned his attention to you, “Don’t worry, my darlin. You’ll still get your chance. I’m gonna help you make him cum.”

“I don’t need- mmph.”

Killer shoved his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. With his body, he positioned you back behind Kid. You swallowed thickly, his hand never leaving your cock. In fact, he was stroking it faster. You whined protests around his fingers and squirmed, though the way his arms caged you, you had little choice but to let it happen. Killer was right behind you and you could feel his cock bump your entrance. Before you could even think about him pushing into you, his hand moving along your shaft had the coil in your center snapping. It was the strangest thing.

It felt similar to your normal orgasm, yet intensified. Killer moved the hand that was in your mouth to support you as you melted into him, not to mention he wanted to hear the wanton moans that left your mouth without any muffling. 

When you regained awareness, you were relieved to see that your cock was still standing at full mast.  You thought Killer was going to make you finish so that he could fuck Kid in your place. You made a face at Killer, who had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You assumed. His helmet was still on but you knew him. 

“Something wrong, darlin?”

“Take that helmet off and smirk at me to my face.”

He tweaked your nipple teasingly before doing as you asked. Instead of smirking, however, he took control of your mouth with his, pressing his lips to yours and wasting no time slipping his tongue in. Killer took your shaft in his hand again, this time positioning it to Kid’s asshole. He pushed his hips forward into yours, sinking you inside Kid. You whimpered as your oversensitive cock was overtaken by the tight ring of muscle.

“Let’s make our good boy cum together. That sound alright, darlin?” Killer spoke against your lips in a tone that you couldn’t say no to. Only Killer could get you and Kid to listen. Maybe he was some kind of brat whisperer. 

Killer nuzzled his face in your neck, tilting your hips slightly so he could slip his own cock inside you. There was little resistance seeing as you had been edging for a while and had just orgasmed. You folded over Kid’s back, groaning, as Killer filled you. Killer waited for you to adjust and come back up before he moved. He held your hips to his so when he thrusted into you, you would thrust into Kid. 

Within a few minutes, Kid was back to the state of moaning into the pillow. Kid cursed as the pace increased. Killer really did know just how to get him off. Kid was a whimpering, squirming mess underneath Killer and yourself, and Killer had made it happen a lot faster than you. 

You turned to kiss Killer as he moved for the both of you. The feeling of both being inside Kid and Killer being inside you was overwhelming. It’s a good thing Killer was doing the moving because you would not have been able to focus on keeping a rhythm. 

Killer grunted as he fucked into you, and Kid in turn, harder. You could tell Kid was close by the way his face contorted and he wailed Killer’s name. 

“Fuck! Kil!” 

You kissed Killer more fervently, spurned on by Kid’s cries. The coil was winding tight in your core again. 

“Kil- I’m gonna-“ Kid let out a final moan, followed by noises like he was in pain. 

You started to pull out but Killer stopped you.

“Uh-uh. Stay.” Killer pushed you to bend over Kid, so you were leaning on his back.

You pressed your face into Kid, Killer railing into you. He didn’t have to go that hard. You were already close and overstimulated. 

“Oh! Fuck, Killer! Too much!” Your brain was fogged, only thoughts of cumming filled it. You were so close to finishing that the tightness of your core was starting to hurt. Somehow it wasn’t enough and too much at the same time. 

“I don’t think so.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can.” Killer cooed, “Cum for me. You can do it.” 

There were tears wetting Kid’s back. It was supposed to be Kid crying, not you. 

Killer didn’t let up. You weren’t’ completely aware, but the movements that were still getting through to Kid were causing him a considerable amount of pain. His balls were under a lot of pressure. 

Killer’s encouragement had you closer to the edge. His words coaxed you until you pushed through, finally letting go. The sensation was unlike anything you had felt before. You bit down on Kid to keep from clenching your teeth together. The wave of endorphins ripped through your body. You tensed to keep from feeling like you were falling apart, then when the wave settled, let yourself relax, going limp between the two men. 

“Fuck, it hurts,” Kid moaned.

“She didn’t even bite you that hard.” Killer chuckled.

“Not her, jackass! My fucking BALLS!”

Killer helped you roll off and onto your back to catch your breath on the bed. 

“You think you could give Kid his dick back, darlin,” Killer rubbed your stomach as you recovered. 

“MY NUTS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE!”

You groaned and nodded. After a few more breaths, you returned your anatomy to normal. You sat up with Kid’s dick in your hand and used your devil fruit to put it back, almost instantaneously causing a powerful spurt of cum to shoot straight up and splatter back down. You and Killer flinched. 

Kid yelled at the sudden release. “FUUUUCK! OW! MY FUCKING SACK!”

When he stopped rolling around in pain, he inspected his member to make sure everything was restored to its former glory. 

“Good fuck. I don’t think I want to do that again.”

You laughed weakly. “I think I should take the balls next time so I can nut for real.”

“I don’t want yer fucking cunt.” He covered his junk protectively to hide it from you.

Killer made an appreciative noise, eyes raking up and down your form. “I do.” He pushed your knees apart and slotted himself between them. 

You were so lost in your head, floating in your own orgasm, that you ignored the blonde’s needs. His blue eyes flicked up to you, making sure it was okay to continue. Though you were exhausted, you held your hands out to embrace him as he positioned himself above you. Killer was always very considerate of your current state, and would not have batted an eye if you told him no. 

He nuzzled you, whispering in your ear, “You sure?”

You answered him by pulling him into a kiss. It was less aggressive than before, yet still full of passion. It was deep and slow and loving. You hooked your legs over his hips and pulled him into you, arching your back to give him better access. Killer’s palm was broad against your back, supporting the arch. His other palm was spread over your breast, massaging the supple flesh. 

You didn’t care if you came again, but Killer clearly wanted you to, and so did your audience of one. Kid’s hand turned your face to his, pressing his lips against yours. Killer used his free mouth to suck and bite at the skin of your neck. Then you flinched, feeling something cold and metallic pressed to your clit. You tried to see what it was and Kid laughed.

“Come on, bunny. Just one more fer Kil.” Kid said between kisses. “Treat him to yer wet, tight cunt. Let him feel ya squeeze him while he cums.” 

A vibration against your clit had you screaming. Killer fucked you deep and slow, a change of pace from earlier. His groans and grunts were tugging you closer to the edge. 

“Cum for me. I can’t finish until I feel your sweet pussy cum.” Killer held your face in his hand, pulling it  towards him to steal kisses away from Kid. “Please, darlin. I have to feel you.”

“Y-yes, Killer.” You cried. 

“That’s it. Cum on Killer’s cock.” Kid intensified the vibrations with his devil fruit. 

“F-fuck! I can’t! No more!” You tossed your head side to side.

Killer tsked. “Don’t lie to me. If you wanted to stop, you’d use your safe word.”

You clamped down on Killer, his admonishment giving you the push you needed to cum. Several seconds longer and Killer grunted and cursed, emptying his full and aching balls into you. He panted over your shoulder, kissing you on the forehead before rolling off you. 

Killer and Kid scooted closer to you, sandwiching you tightly between them. They both attacked your cheeks with kisses, Killer because he was showing affection, Kid because he knew it would annoy you. They smushed your face until you shoved your hands at their chests and made an irritated growl. 

“Fuck off! No more!”

“You don’t want my kisses?” Killer feigned a pout.

“Y/N doesn’t want to be ours.” Kid huffed.

“Huh?!” You said incredulously. “I never said that.”

“Y/N said she isn’t our girlfriend.” Kid flicked your forehead. 

You grumbled. “Is that the real reason you stormed off?”

Kid took a long time to answer. “Maybe. I don’t know.” Kid added, in an attempt to sound less like he cared, “Like I care if ya are or not.”

“I- hm.” You didn’t know how to respond.

“Go on.” Killer rubbed soothing circles into your palm as he intertwined his fingers and your own. 

You mumbled something they couldn’t hear. 

“Hm?” Killer prompted.

“Can we call it something else?”

“Hah? What do ya mean?”

“I- don’t like that term.” You bit your lip. “It just… doesn’t fit me. I’m not… I’m not a ‘girlfriend’.” You out the word in air quotes.

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Kid frustratedly yelled.

“I’m not ever going to be a ‘girlfriend’ or ‘wife’. I’m too fucked up. I’m not the type of person to have a title like that. And it sounds lame.” You continued, rolling your eyes. “I’m just some murdering whore with good pussy and bad intentions.”

Killer laughed. “I don’t know about you, Captain, but I think that sounds like the ideal Pirate Queen to me.” Killer planted a kiss on your neck. 

Kid grumbled. “I guess.” He continued grumbling as he pressed his nose into your hair and sighed. He added after about a minute, “So?”

“So…?” You questioned.

“So what do ya say to that?! Are ya dumb?!” Kid growled and turned his head slightly, arms folded, yet his eyes still waited for an answer from you. 

You looked to Killer, whose eyes also waited on an answer from you. Your eyes flicked to the ceiling, unable to gaze upon your two bedmates. Your heart bumped into your ribcage as it pounded and your hands became clammy. They had a point, and you did want to be with them, more than anything you wanted in the world. You were uneasy about it, not sure if this would change anything between you three. You liked what you had with them.

“I don’t want to be the Pirate Queen. I just want to be at your side.”

“At the very least, I think you’ve graduated from Murderous Whore to Commander.” Killer looked pointedly at Kid.

“If ya won’t be my girlfriend, will ya be my Commander?”

You folded your arms. The problem you had with the other titles was the implication of possession by a person and an expectation of commitment. It made you uncomfortable. You knew it would be far from the traditional sense of the word, but it still had a specific meaning attached that you wanted no part of. Not to mention it implied that feelings were involved, and you couldn’t have people out here believing that you had those. ‘Commander’, though, that didn’t sound bad. You could at least agree that you had a commitment to this crew, and it would keep you at Kid and Killer’s side.

“Fine.” You added a stipulation. “As long as I don’t have to stop sleeping with my superiors.” 

“Why ya always gotta be difficult, Rotten?”

“It’s because she loves us.” Killer pinched your cheek.

You slapped his hand away. “Quit that.” You could feel your cheeks burn as they flushed.

“Aye, Killer, ya might be right judgin by the sight of those bonnie red cheeks.”

You covered your face with your hands. “Stop looking.”

“Aw, bunny is hiding from her feelings, is she?” Kid teased.

“Shut up!” You pulled the sheets over your head.

“You’re one to talk, Kid,” Killer remarked.

“SHUT UP!”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @bbnbhm @wgwingguns @nocturnalrorobin

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

if you're still doing requests- nsfw alphabet with switzerland 👉👈

i am my motivation just doesn't agree if that makes sense and most of my requests i'm either far too ambitious with and keep re-writing or are just not something i'm interested in rn. thank u for handing me an excuse to write about the guy. was an easy and fun write. might have minor errors. very sorry this took a bit ! (also- should i redo the yandere alphabet with him? i feel its REALLY ooc now that i re-read it..)

Switzerland NSFW Alphabet

warnings : nsfw ofc, nothing intense otherwise though. made him dominant here, request again if you want him submissive.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Not the most extra individual, but it's definitely not non-existent or anything. he will be ensuring you're not in pain, not thirsty, not uncomfortable.. He'll probably want to clean up and whatnot though once confirmed that you're all good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his own eyes, they're always useful and a lot of his activities frequently require good eyesight, which he has. Definitely enjoys his hands too though, he's pretty used to work that requires physical labor so they're helpful too.

He's never said it, but it's easy to tell your thighs and hips are a favorite of his regarding activities such as these. His hands frequently drift there, and so does his line of sight when he thinks you're not looking.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He prefers it inside, just more convenient in his opinion. He'll understand if you want it outside though, then it'll usually just end up somewhere else on your body, no particular areas of interest really.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Although he feels really creepy for doing it, if you gave him literally any shirts, pants, or anything along those lines as a gift, he likely smelt it while jerking off. It just really gets him going, and he hates it (loves it, just won't admit it to himself).

Also, side note, has thought about fucking in the forest. He usually doesn't like risks, but he feels really in his element when out in the woods and his mind can't help but drift to such thoughts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Unexperienced, but not really dumb to what he should do and the alike. Might secretly read a bit to learn what all he should look out for, or do. Keeps looking away every ten seconds though throughout his research because he's sort of a prude.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Usually goes for Missionary. He's a very simple man, and doesn't like to get too weird when it's up to positions, so it just fits him. Would also be willing to do some other ones though, as long as they aren't too squished or require too much flexibility. It's not like he can't handle either of those, it's just very distracting to him and this is definitely something he likes to focus on.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not a silly guy in general, even less lighthearted when having sex. Finds it awkward if you make any jokes, but wouldn't mind if you laughed at any accidents or anything like one of you slipping.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Doesn't see the point to shaving that which very few people will ever see, but he also doesn't like being overly hairy. He keeps it trimmed to a shorter length, just seems like a waste of time to do anything more. It's the same colour as his hair too, not even like the slightest difference.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not overly romantic, but it's the small things he does that shows his affection. Always keeps an eye out to make sure you're comfortable, has a tendency to adjust you without asking just to be sure you're in a nice spot. Still embarrased to kiss you, by the way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Only when he finds it neccessary. Switzy is a rather prudent man, and sexual activity doesn't really land on his mind that often. Sometimes though, he does have those straying thoughts. Ones he has to handle himself. Ones he internally punishes himself for, but exist nevertheless.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sorta likes the idea of outdoor sex. Just scared of getting caught, is all. He's very much a fan of nature, and he's spent lots of time in it. He largely prefers it there over cities any day of the week. So maybe on some of his property, further out, after he's scoped the whole area and put a million "no trespassing" signs up. (And likely brought a gun.. Just incaese.)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom, usually. Bathroom, occasionally. Elsewhere, in your dreams. Too horrified at the idea of his sister coming to visit him just to get scarred for life. Hates to do anything outside his/your own home, ignoring the above section of course (when he gets brave enough to test that out).

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As I might've mentioned earlier, he loves your thighs and hips. Size doesn't matter, scarring doesn't matter.. HE JUST LOVES THEM! If visible, they instantly catch his attention, and sort of distract him. Only a teensy bit though, he's not gawking at you or anything.. Also likes it if you give him lots of big kisses while you rub him up. Anywhere on his body too, really, it's his favorite thing. (Even more- he loves if you squeeze his butt. He might huff a bit if you do, but trust, he secretely adores it.)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that risky. In any way you can think of. Literally all forms of risks are a major no for him. Physically risky, reputation risky.. All of them.

Also, anything gross. Won't go along with watersports, emetophilia.. Anything along those lines are a no-no for him. Would completely wreck his mood.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sort of nervous on recieving oral? Not really for himself too, he just doesn't want you to feel physical discomfort or choke or anything.. It's not really his thing. Totally up for giving, though. You might not expect it, but he's actually rather big on giving. Would honestly be satisfied if that's all you two do for the night.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He tends to gear towards a happy medium pace most of the time (exceptions can be made..). Sensual isn't really a word to describe it, nor is it rough. Not harsh, but not fluid. He feels if he goes rough he'll hurt you, and that's really not something he wants. But if he goes slow it just makes him feel shy, if that makes sense. It gives you the opportunity to really focus in on him, and he isn't exactly talkative in sex either outside simple questions and the alike, so it makes him feel awkard. A speed that's gentle but not too calm.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's not a fan, and he'll rarely ever agree to go along with them. If he does though, then those are the times that the exceptions mentioned above happen. Though, admittedly, even though he isn't neccessarily a fan, he doesn't hate them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Okay, unlike above, he's actually a real hater of risks. And there's really no elaborating on it either, as it's pretty much already been covered. Will not agree to risks.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

While usually he tends to try and keep it at one to three rounds, he can do more. He's a physically abled man, and has quite a bit of stamina due to all the training he does and the alike. If he really wanted to he could go for.. Five? Probably could do seven, but he's just not that much of a sex fanatic, so that won't really happen.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would never buy any. Why get such a thing if he's already equipped with parts for this activity? Might be willing to try some simpler things though, if you get it. Don't expect him to go for any BDSM stuff though, that's just really not his thing.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not at all. He simply doesn't have the patience for it. Teasing him does get you somewhere though, if you're interested. Just don't expect him to humor you for too long.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Tries to be as silent as possible. Naturally, he isn't that noisy anyways, but it still embarrasess him. Panting, grunting. Maybe lower-sounding very muffled whimpering (only if you work to get it out of him).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has considered jealousy sex.. On multiple occassions. Only racked up the courage for it once. Just finds it too silly and stupid to do it any other time.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Uncut, six inches. His pubic hair is a slightly darker blond, but similar to his hair. Only keeps it trimmed since he just doesn't get the point to shaving. Too much drama for something that doesn't really cause any difference besides aesthetics.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not high. It's non-existant, supposedly. It's mostly just due to the fact he chooses to ignore it instead of actually indulging himself in sexual pleasure though! Realistically, it's likely just a bit below average.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If he does go to sleep afterwards, it's likely after a couple of hours. He has a few things to do beforehand so he won't get to it immediately. Would definitely stick with you for a bit after you fall asleep though, even if he himself decides to not rest.

[huntershowl-moving]

Positivity hour! Tell us about your favourite RP partner and your favourite thread! <3

OOH! i love positivity hour! cut for length because WORDY BITCH DISEASE STRIKES AGAIN APPARENTLY!

i don't think i could pin down just one favorite because i'm so incredibly lucky to have so many amazing partners during this sephblog golden age. this is only a few of the ppl who have touched my presence here and live in my brain rent free rn, i wish i could remember all of them but a shortlist will have to do o7

i will shoutout @harerazor and @tewwor for being my OGs, my rp besties, the truest mfs who always stick around through my year-long (sometimes years-long) absences and whenever i come back to discord or the dash, it's like we never left <3 AND for following me into my hyperfixation zones omg. writing windbreaker and jjk muses would be so much more lonely without u two in my life. <3

on the topic of OGs, @spiritcrown, @never-surrender and @bcdomens are the CREW!!!!!!!! THE FIRST PPL I EVER WROTE WITH AND SOME OF MY FAV FOLKS ON THIS HELLSITE you guys are the best. ily. connecting with u guys again felt like coming home.

@favorskill has ascended past the title of rp partner and into the title of friend. rio is one of my favorite people ever, genuinely, he's so cool and so skilled with writing/worldbuilding/watching his DICE MAKING SKILLS GROW has been so amazing too??? i care u so much rio. biting u. even when my brain is hopelessly deep in the fixation hole i am thinking about u and ur muses always <3

also shoutout to my wife @vsagis / @theixth (bc ik uve been on this one today) for just being like??? overall such a lovely person and an amazing writer??? our main dynamic is so deep and expansive we're starting to develop an extended universe for them. i love them i LOVE THEM TO DEATH. alex u match my freak ily i hope i get this job so we can hang out irl <3

speaking of matching my freak, @koseigu and i get along like a house on fire, and i don't think the world is truly ready for us. the more dynamics we develop, the more dangerous we become. everything we do with geto & sephsho ROCKS and i am terrified (excited) to see where seph and sukuna lead us in our newest explorations. we get up to some absolutely nasty (hot) shit with our creatures and it's always an amazing time. hehe

@chaoslulled hol you are so so so special to me. i owe u so many things and im so sorry omg but i literally never stop thinking about our threads & dynamics they're soooo good. i think you're one of the only partners i've actually been able to maintain Main Threads with over a long period of time?? there's something about the way we write together that makes that actually work in my brain which is super unusual JSDKJDHJKD i'm not complaining though, i love it so much. also your ocs are spinning around in my head on a daily basis, especially char because seph, chiaki and geto all like her very much. <3 ALSO. U ARE THE REASON I WRITE GETO. I HATE IT HERE HE WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE HOW COULD U DO THIS TO ME (affectionate). ur satoru is always the one he and seph come back to first because he is the original.

@quillheel and i have been mutuals for a while but didn't start regularly chatting until recently, and geto has been keeping me hostage in our 1x1 server over the last week or so, it's a problem, please help me. please. my crops are dying. also ur my current record breaker on "most fucked up start to an rp dynamic" with sukuna and rusa and im gonna be real i think u might hold that title for a while KJSDHIUSDHSJDHSJKDHJSKDH

@hinodae gray i think i would follow u to the ends of the earth. our little accidental threads have been some of my favorites ever, and i love to PIECES every one of our ship dynamics so far. thank u for being just as much of a slut for ships as i am, i feel like we match each other's energy and vibe so well!! TUMBLR BETTER UN-SHADOWBAN U SOON OR IM GONNA THROW HANDS >:'O

@eraserisms and @rcguish u two are like a package deal in my brain. D.A., the fact that we exist on the same chef wavelength always makes me so happy. i love seph and shota so much, they make me Hurt in all the best ways and i'm lookin forward to getting more into todoroki's voice so we can keep building out shota becoming his dad i mean mentoring him! and rys!!! i know ur absolutely going thru it rn so we haven't been talking as much lately, but i'm still just as feral for our dynamics as ever. seph and shouta's broken friendship. shou and orion's blossoming romance. seph has so many feelings and thoughts about silver that i don't even know how to articulate but that might need its own separate post. blowing u kisses.

lastly but not leastly, @gomannakami we only connected recently but we've already got this absolutely TRAGIC AND BEAUTIFUL set of pairings going on. satoru and chiaki are so stupidly cute and so so sad. seph and suguru are still in the beginning stages but i LOVE writing them sort of dancing around each other, the mutual pining is so spicy and delicious.

AS FOR THREADS!!!!!

ooh. hm. fuck. i think my first thought is always gonna be my longer-running threads with @chaoslulled — the one that stands out the most in my mind rn is the thread where satoru found seph on the brink of collapse after a hellhound kill. it was only the second thread we ever wrote together, and i ACUTELY remember how nervous i was that it was too intense and i was gonna scare hol away with it because that's happened so many times before. SJDHKSJHD

another one that comes to mind is one of my first threads with @tewwor's litho, which started with the simple inbox prompt "can't sleep?" and ended up turning into one of our longest threads to date and spiraling out into the longest fucking slowburn of this blog's career. i loved it. i'll never stop thinking about that apple.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Egon Spengler Thought #1

A/N: alright, guys. I haven't posted in a while, and I've been busy working on the long Egon story. But my brain hatched this last night/today so here you go!

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, fem!reader, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is 20s, Egon is mid-thirties), established relationship, groping, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, sexual fantasies, dirty talk, pet names (sparingly), mentions of exhibitionism

A few tags: @ghostsfungitwinkies @haroldramistwinkie @taire-the-disaster-gay @gr00vyashley (if this isn't your thing, feel free to ignore. if being tagged makes you uncomfortable, I'll delete it at your request 💜)

"I'm sorry...could you repeat that?" Egon asks, clearing his throat. He doesn't actually need you to repeat it, he knows damn well what you said. You came into his lab in the firehouse, dressed in nothing but a lingerie set and a trench coat, opened it up and asked him if he wanted to take a break to fuck your brains out. Knowing the others are out on calls busting ghosts all night, with Janine taking off less than ten minutes ago, you've taken it upon yourself to seduce him.

You've been seeing each other for a while, you used to be one of his research assistants. You kept things professional while you worked under him, and waited until you'd earned your credit hours to ask him out. He was flattered, to say the least. He's had many a young woman hit on him in his line of work, both as a Ghostbuster and a scientist. Most times he'd turn them down, or have a one-night stand if he was really desperate for affection. But sleeping with women who admired him the way they would Tom Cruise, or someone similar, usually lead to high expectations and broken dreams.

But you? You were different. Egon could tell from the jump that you liked him, though you tried your best to hide it. You cared about the work, not wanting your attraction to him to get in the way. He admired that about you, even though he would have been plenty receptive to any advances you made. You weren't like the other college kids he employed the help of. You didn't ask stupid questions, you kept up with his pace, you didn't question his methods unless it was truly necessary. You were perfect.

When it comes to attraction for Egon, brains come first and looks come second. And man, oh man, do you have a level of intelligence that gets his motor running. Before he could even begin to consider your looks, he fell in love with your mind. You had a habit of staying behind after the others had left, asking to see what other projects he was working on, or about any scientific journals he recommended. He was more than willing to show you his side projects, namely his mold, spore, and fungus collection. The journals he'd tell you about were usually ones you'd already read, which lead to lengthy conversations picking them to pieces, or speaking enthusiastically about what both of you found most fascinating.

Only after the two of you spent an entire evening discussing at length about psycho-reactive substances, did Egon start to look at your physical attributes as well as your mental ones. And what he saw was very pleasing to the eyes. Everything about you is beautiful to him. From your soft, luscious hair, to your pretty face that lights up every time you see him, to your gorgeous body which makes all others he's seen pale in comparison.

A body which now stands before him, your most intimate parts covered in delicate, luxurious red lace. A dark red that compliments your skin tone exquisitely, stitched in the form of a matching bra and panties. Garters and black fishnets lead down your gorgeous legs and into a pair of red high heels. His favorite. Egon can't quite pinpoint what it is, but there's something about railing you with your shoes still on that drives him crazy.

"You heard me the first time, Spengler," you tease, stepping further into his space. He's currently sat at his computer, as he was busy typing away his supernatural findings from the last bust he went on. You turn his rotating chair to make him fully face you and reach for the end of his tie. Egon swallows hard, utterly speechless as you pull him in closer. His face grows nearer to yours agonizingly slow, and you stop just before his lips can brush against your own. You lean over to speak into his ear.

"Don't tell me you'd rather sit at your computer all night, instead of fucking your girlfriend six ways from Sunday," you say, nipping his earlobe afterwards. Your tone sultry is and low, almost pouty. This particular voice of yours never fails to send the hairs on Egon's neck prickling upwards in excitement.

"O-Of course not!" Egon scoffs nervously as you pull back to meet his eyes again. He clears his throat at the pure lust pooling in your pupils, which nearly swallows your irises into murky depths. "I'm just a bit caught off guard," he says, which isn't a lie. It's not exactly like you to initiate sex at his place of work. Of course, there has been little opportunity to do so. The other Ghostbusters are always hanging around in some way of another, though none of them live in the firehouse full time the way Egon does. That's not to say what you're attempting right now doesn't intrigue him, quite the opposite. It's new, and risky.

"That's kinda the point," you smirk, climbing onto Egon's lap. Your smile grows as you can already feel him getting hard underneath you. "Does it excite you, Egon? To know we could get caught?" You ask, riding the line between teasing and earnestness.

"Yes," he answers simply, a small groan leaving him as you roll your hips once. His large hands raise to meet your waist, resting comfortably on your supple flesh. He gazes adoringly into your eyes, awaiting your next move.

"What would you like me to do to you first, Doctor?" You say playfully. Egon loves it when you call him that in bed. It was you who started it, but he certainly worked hard enough for the title, so he had no objections. You'd tried once to call him the shortened version, 'Doc'. but all that did was remind you both of a certain cartoon rabbit, which was more than a turn-off.

Egon scrunches his face, as if you should already know where to begin. He isn't the most assertive when it comes to intimacy. He has extensive knowledge of how to please a woman, and he's gained a decent amount of experience over the years. But no one else has been so domineering and forward with him, not like you. You know what you want, and how to say it. And try as Egon might to keep up with you, sometimes the words can't help but escape him.

"Come on, you've got an extensive vocabulary. I'm sure you can think of something to say," you prod, leaning in close again, putting your arms around his shoulders. He catches a whiff of your perfume, which only clouds his head even more. He wants you, needs you, in every way you'll give yourself to him. It's difficult to focus on just one thing.

"Kiss me," Egon finally replies.

"That's better," you nod, closing the gap between you to bring your lips to his. You feel him melt against you instantly, letting you guide him. Your hands travel up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers in his dark, styled curls. Your hips roll in a steady rhythm over Egon's lap, your rapidly soaking cunt rubbing against his stiff erection. He moans into the kiss, the sound pushing you to go further. You grind yourself down on him harder, moaning at the pressure on your clit.

"Darling, slow down," Egon says softly as he pulls away. He smiles warmly at you, cupping your cheek. "We've got all the time we need. The others will be gone until the morning," he says.

"I know," you sigh, ceasing your grinding for a moment. You give him a brief kiss before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I've just missed you all day, and I couldn't stop thinking about you," you lean in to kiss his cheek this time. "I had to beg my boss to let me off early, so I could see you," your voice grows whiny and breathless as you continue, pressing your lips to his neck. "All I could focus on was this," you nip on his throat, making his cock twitch.

You're getting riled up again, but you just can't seem to help it. All day at work, every little thing reminded you of Egon. And that led to you having endless fantasies about him, what you wanted to do to him, and him to you. You pictured his head between your legs, lapping at you until you scream his name. You imagined him grinding his cock into you helplessly for hours, until you're both soaked with sweat and growing tired, because he just can't get enough of being inside you. You replayed the look of pure ecstasy he makes when he comes, the feeling of him filling you to the brim with his sticky release countless times.

You continue kissing his neck, eating up the soft moans and whimpers he lets out at your touch. Egon isn't overly loud during sex, but he's not afraid to make any noise. Especially not when he knows how much these sounds arouse you. His hands travel up your sides, making goosebumps raise along your skin as his touch is unbearably light. He reaches behind your back, undoing the clasps of your bra. The straps go slack on your shoulders, and you slip the garment off. You pull away from suckling on Egon's throat, letting him have a good look at your bare chest.

"I'll never get over how beautiful you are," Egon says lovingly, bringing his hands back around to gently cup your breasts. "Or how fortunate I am to be with you," he squeezes your flesh in his palms.

"Egon," you moan, letting your head fall forward as he gropes you. His fingers tenderly roll your hardened nipples, dialing up your pleasure. Desire pools inside your stomach, growing deeper and warmer by the second.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Egon asks, as if he can't see the clear evidence before him. Your eyes are blissfully closed, your mouth sitting open as you moan and whine for him. Your back is arched slightly to keep your tits within his hold, though he has no intention of going anywhere.

"Yes, you feel so good," you answer, forcing your eyes open to look at him. His expression is soft, serene. He's unbelievably happy to be here in this moment with you, a sentiment you share.

Satisfied with your answer, Egon leans forward to press his lips to your breasts. Your noises grow louder at the feeling of his hot, wet mouth searing a path along your skin. He takes one of your nipples between his lips, sucking firmly. Your hips begin to grind again out of impulse, searching for friction. He doesn't slow you down this time, becoming rather needy himself. Every move you make, every sound you let out, everything you do leaves him absolutely dizzy with lust.

The two of you continue like this for what feels like hours, with your hands tangled in Egon's hair, his face buried in your chest. Heavy breaths and simpering moans fill the otherwise silent laboratory, the temperature of the room rising every time you grind into him. A damp spot has formed on his slacks at this point, your arousal soaking through your panties and making a mess. Egon's dick throbs with ache inside his pants, and each roll of your hips makes him gradually more desperate.

"Egon, please. I want you inside me," you whine, reaching between your bodies to find his belt. Your hands fumble with it, the hardware jingling as you manage to get it open.

"So do I," Egon agrees, pulling away from your chest to catch his breath. He could damn near suffocate himself in your breasts if he isn't careful, though he wouldn't mind meeting his demise in such a way. You lift yourself up slightly to access his zipper, and he takes this opportunity to explore between your legs. His long, thin fingers make contact with your clothed pussy, earning a lilting moan from your pretty lips.

"You're making quite a mess," he comments with a grin, gliding over the soaked lace.

"Only for you, darling," you say sweetly, unzipping his pants to gain access to what's inside. You can see the outline of him in the dark fabric, long and tempting. You pull Egon's cock free from the confines of his slacks and boxers, his tip red and dripping with precum. You swipe your thumb over his slit, bringing it up to your lips to lick it clean.

"Fuck," he groans at the sight, pressing harder on your cunt in response. His eyes stay locked on yours as you stroke him in your hand, warming him up. He pulls your panties to the side, needing to fully feel you. His fingertips finally slip through your slick folds, causing your back to arch. He rubs slow, purposeful circles on your clit, devouring the pathetic noises you make from the stimulation. It's probably one of his favorite things to explore your most sensitive areas, with his hands, or his mouth, or his cock. And you let him, eager to have him touch you any way he likes. He's certainly adept at it, never failing to set your insides on fire and leave you a satisfied mess by the time he's through with you.

"Ready?" You ask him, seconds away from outright begging. He's made you wait long enough, you need him inside you now.

"Yes," Egon nods, pulling his hand away from you. You whine at the loss, though you quickly get over it as you bring his dick to your entrance. His hands return to your waist, your free hand resting on his shoulder to keep yourself steady. The two of your pant in anticipation, so very close to what you crave.

You slowly sink down onto him, accepting his thick length inside your cunt. "Oh, god," you gasp as he fills you completely. No matter how many times you've done this before, you're always surprised by how well Egon fits inside you, how his dick reaches every pleasurable spot possible.

Egon's hands tense around your hips when your walls clench to adjust to his size, his breath hitching. You're unbelievably warm and wet inside, surrounding him completely. If he wasn't sweating profusely before, he certainly is now. He starts to remove his lab coat to cool down, when you stop him.

"Keep it on. You're so sexy in it," you say while biting your lip.

"Really?" He questions curiously, raising an eyebrow. This is the first time hearing such a thing, especially from you.

"Uh-huh," you say mischievously, nodding. "I don't know what it is, exactly. It just...suits you," you observe in admiration, running your fingers over the lapels of his coat.

"I would hope so. I am a scientist," Egon comments, missing what you're truly trying to say. He's like that sometimes, taking things too literally.

"It's more than that, I think. You're at your most confident when you wear this coat. It makes you comfortable, because science is your safe place," you explain with a smile. "And confidence is very sexy."

"I see. I suppose I've never thought about it that way before," Egon chuckles, amused by your assessment.

"I know," you giggle, shaking your head at his response. You decide to move things along, carefully lifting yourself up before landing in Egon's lap. A shared moan escapes you both, conversation falling to the wayside for a moment while you set a steady pace. You bounce on Egon's cock leisurely, rolling your hips as you do so. Your lips find his, meeting in a feverish kiss. It becomes all teeth and tongues rather quickly, though neither of you mind whatsoever. All you want is to stay close, be connected to one another.

You pick up a bit of speed, moaning down Egon's throat as his tip hits our g-spot again and again. His hands drift down your back, landing on your ass. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks in his grasp, guiding you as you ride him. This only spurs you on to go even faster, pushing you closer to the edge. You can't keep kissing him very easily with your newfound pace, breaking away and instead gazing deep into his eyes. His glasses have gone crooked, his hair becoming an unkempt mess. He looks absolutely wild, grunting and groaning beneath you.

"Have I ever told you how badly I wanted you when I first saw you?" You ask breathlessly.

"No, but it was quite obvious," Egon replies plainly, which earns a brief glare from you. "You weren't exactly subtle. You blushed every other time I looked at you, even after months of working under me," he teases, though his statement is far from untrue.

"I don't know if you realize it or not, but I was trying to talk dirty to you just now," you explain, rolling your eyes.

"I'm sorry," Egon apologizes, realizing he's missed the hint once again. "Continue," he adds, suddenly very interested in what you were planning to say.

"As I was saying, I wanted you so badly..." You trail off, dragging it out now that he's annoyed you. Egon watches you expectantly, needing to hear where this goes. "I was constantly thinking about how much I wanted you to bend me over your desk and fuck me, while wearing nothing but this coat," you say in a sultry tone, speeding up once more.

"You could have asked me to. I would have done anything you wanted," Egon admits through a groan, enamored by your filthy words. It's not as if your attraction or desire for him have ever been a real secret, especially now that you're together. But to hear it from your lips that you wanted him this entire time, it's intoxicating.

"I'm sure you would have, darling," you reply, finding his confession unbearably sweet. "Would've been hard to keep it secret, though."

"Isn't that part of the thrill?" Egon asks, a dark look in his eyes. He's very excited by the idea of sneaking around with you back then, having to tiptoe out of your dorm room in the middle of the night, or you covertly slipping out of his office. Secret dates you could have gone on, a town over so no one would recognize you together. Maybe even weekends away in some shitty hotel, spending every second entangled in one another. His head spins with the possibilities, the missed opportunities. It almost makes him sad, but mainly he's massively turned on.

"You're really into that, aren't you?" You ask, intrigued that you appear to have unlocked some secret desire in him. Perhaps a kink you can exploit to your benefit.

"Yes. Very much so," Egon nods, surprised at himself. It appears with your new initiation tactic he has become a bit more open with you. This may call for further experimentation, namely of his own sexual limits. You've made it clear that you're up for just about anything, surely you'll be able to assist him.

"It's nice to learn new things about you, Egon," you say sweetly as your pleasure builds. You're getting very close now, pushing yourself to ride him even faster. "Oh, god, fuck," you moan loudly as you ram your sweet-spot into his cock over and over. It won't be long now until you're screaming his name.

"It's nice to share them with you, darling," Egon pants, holding onto your ass more firmly to help maintain your momentum. He can tell by how roughly you're bouncing, how loud your moans are getting, that you're nearing release. "Keep going. I'm getting close, too," he says as his stomach threatens to tense.

You do as he says, giving him everything you have to make you both come. Your thighs start to burn from the effort, the flesh of them sticking to his slacks from all your sweat. You carry on regardless, clinging to Egon for dear life. His fingers dig into your skin, trying so hard to hang on despite the intense heat between you both. The room is filled with helpless moans and grunts, the wet sounds of you repeatedly piercing yourself on his dick accompanying them.

"Egon...oh god, I'm gonna come," you murmur, the waves of bliss threatening to overtake you. You lean forward to fully embrace him, keeping his chest pressed close to yours. You bury your face in his neck, still riding him with all your might, until your orgasm finally hits you. "Fuck!" You cry out, muffled against his sweat-soaked flesh. Ecstasy rolls over your entire being, lighting up all your nerve-endings. Your thighs shake erratically, your nails digging into Egon's shoulders as you ride this out. Your walls clamp around his length, pulling him into the rapture along with you.

"I- fuck, I'm going to come," Egon grunts as his own high hits him like a ton of bricks. Your cunt squeezing him so tight makes his vast mind melt inside his skull, driving him to thrust up into you, spilling sticky ropes of cum into your throbbing pussy. His stuttering hips prolong your own pleasure, and you mewl against his neck.

A few more moans and heavy breaths leave you both as you slowly come to a stop. You sit in sweating silence for a couple of minutes, letting your hearts and lungs slow down to their normal pace. You sit upright, meeting each other's eyes. Content smiles rest on your lips, an intense affection for one another blossoming within your chests. There is nothing that could possibly ruin this moment, until you hear the ECTO-1 making its way into the garage of the firehouse.

"Oh, shit," you gasp, quickly removing yourself from Egon's lap. You've left quite a mess on him, a mix of sweat and your arousal leaving a dark, very noticeable stain on the fabric. His own release is rapidly soaking into the cloth as well, leaving him unable to hide what you've just gotten up to.

"I'll go change. You put your coat back on," Egon instructs, abruptly leaving the room to change his pants. He fixes his glasses as he walks, feeling around on his head to straighten out his hair.

While Egon cleans up, you throw on the trench coat you came in with, closing it up tight just as Ray ascends the stairs, with Winston and Peter in tow. They've got a bit of slime on their shoulders, but it seems the worksheet for the night was rather light. They were supposed to be gone until morning.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Didn't expect to see you here tonight, kiddo," Peter says, giving you a curious glance up and down. If he knows one thing, it's to be very suspicious of a woman wearing a trench coat and high heels.

"Oh. Yeah. I got off work early to visit Egon," you say nervously, pulling the ties of your coat tighter.

"And where is the egghead in question?" Peter probes, a knowing look on his face.

"He's just, uh, in the bathroom. I think," you reply, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

"I see. Would that have anything to do with what I assume is your bra on the floor behind you there?" Peter grins as he asks his final question, prompting laughter from the other men as they also notice your discarded undergarment. Your eyes go wide when you realize that in trying to cover yourself so quickly, you left cold hard evidence of your shenanigans with Egon on the goddamn floor.

Egon returns to the room with fresh slacks on to find his colleagues seemingly laughing at you for some unknown reason. "What's going on here?" He asks, his brows furrowing. He certainly hopes his friends aren't picking on you, Peter in particular can be what many have referred to him as: a dickhead.

"Why don't you tell us, Spengs?" Ray comments, his laughter only growing.

"I knew you had a way with the ladies, Egie. But, man, I did not expect this from you," Peter chuckles, nudging his head behind you. Egon's eyes follow, locating your brassiere on the floor, which you have been too mortified to pick up as of yet. "You dog!" Peter claps Egon on the shoulder, before going on his way to get washed up.

"It's always the quiet ones," Winston comments, shaking his head as he laughs his way out of the room. Ray follows suit, leaving you and Egon alone.

"Are you alright?" Egon asks, walking over to you and picking your bra up from the floor. He hands it to you, and you slip it into your pocket for the time being. He looks at you with concern, wondering what he can do to make things better.

"I'm okay. A little embarrassed, I guess," you reply, picking at your hands and fighting the harsh blush that's taken your cheeks hostage.

"As am I. Perhaps our future encounters ought to take place in your apartment from now on," Egon suggests, taking your hand in his. You look up to meet his eyes, finding sincere remorse and admiration.

"Sounds good to me," you say quietly, nodding.

"That isn't to say I didn't enjoy this. But it appears using the firehouse as a sexual venue isn't exactly viable," he explains, needing you to know he doesn't regret any moment spent with you. Even if it means his fellow Ghostbusters are going to give an earful about this for weeks.

"I know," you nod again, turning to put yourself in front of him. You wrap your arms around his middle, smiling. "I love you, Egon," you say to him, as you have quite a few times before. It's still a relatively new step in your relationship, but it warms your heart every time you tell him how you feel.

"I love you too, darling. More than you could possibly know," he replies sweetly, giving you a tender kiss. "How about I take the night off, and we can start round two when we get back to your apartment?" Egon suggests once he pulls away, a devious glint in his eye.

"That sounds perfect."

[yerproblematicfav]

Reposting this without the fancy promo picture:

Hazbin Hotel is my current hyperfixation so I figured I'd try and break into the role play scene on this site. 🤗

For obvious reasons, be 21+ ONLY. Mun is 25+ themselves. MINORS DNI. 🤬

Other than being of the legal age to consume alcohol in the United States, my ideal writing partner would be someone who enjoys writing dark and/or dead dove subjects. And although it isn't an absolute necessity to write with me, I do find that when the plot is vanilla for too long I tend to get bored and lose interest. I crave drama. 🔥

I'm happy to write any type of relationship between our characters, be that familial, friends, romantic, enemies, etc. if you can dream it, we can write it. 🌈

I do enjoy writing ERP, but we don’t have to include that if it makes you uncomfortable. I will never ask you to write anything that triggers you, period. I’m also always more than willing to do a ‘fade to black,’ moment. If you do choose to do an ERP with me, by default I tend to make Angel a bratty sub. I can and will write him as a top, but it is not my preference to do so. 😌

As far as ships go, I am willing to write just about any MxM ship. I love huskerdust and fluff but TW: I am also a proshipper. I ship incest ships like AngelNiss and fucked up ones like ValAngel. I understand that most people find those types of ships repulsive, so I will always use the appropriate tags when posting content of them so that you can block that content out, but my feed is for me, not you. If that’s a deal breaker for you then I am very sorry, but I can’t stop being me, babes. 🤷‍♀️

I won't personally write Angel as being in a romantic or sexual relationship with a female character because he is canonically gay and I want to respect his sexuality, but if you do that, more power to ya. 🌸

I actually enjoy writing some of the more taboo and weird stuff including dead dove topics such as: incest, mpreg, age gaps, gender swaps, futas, dubcon, noncon, and so on and so forth. So if you want to rp something but you’re afraid of it coming off as strange, please don’t be afraid to reach out. The worst I can say is no, right? ✨

Stylistically, I’d say I tend to write lazy lit or maybe semi-lit to lit depending on my mood. I will always give you multiple paragraphs per reply, written in the third person. But I am willing to match reply length. Working on becoming novella, but I don't think I'm there yet tbh. 😅

If you’re interested in writing with me, drop a like or DM me and let’s start hitching some kind of plot together! 💙

[kittynugg]

haha yeah that's just average tumblr user exaggeration we do it all the ti-

*lacrimosa plays like the part where the meme is*

you werent kidding.

YOU WERENT KIDDING

okay so i've learned not to underestimate you leene ( @empressofsamoyeds )

lot of answers under the cut HHAQHKH

this is a fun one! okay so back in my glory days before the horrors (11-13 years old) i used to.. not know ao3 existed! i'd get my reading in on fanfiction.net reading exclusively the detroit: become human works of waywardwonder (also on ao3). this person was/is incredibly talented and writes novel-length fics so if you like dbh you'll probably like them because i FUCKING loved this person.

this person's works were incredibly inspiring to me, i wanted to write dbh fics of my own which i never ended up doing beside a draft i wrote directly on ao3 and gave up on and deleted because i didnt know what rich text OR html was

my NEXT shot at fanfiction i believe i wrote in either microsoft word or on grammarly when i was thirteen, i asked my like 16 year old friend at the time to beta read and they said it looked like something they'd write in middle school and regret in highschool and they were right

sooooooooooo i gave up again

then came a certain show by a certain zoophile who i had no fucking idea about at the time btw that was uh. a shocker. but i. had. HEADCANONS. al*stor was my SON. i gave him a backstory, a cute nickname, a wip i didnt finish..

and then i stopped caring about hazbin hotel because BAM INVADER ZIM BABY LOOK AT THAT LITTLE GUY GO LOOK AT THAT CHILD TRY TO DISSECT HIM i wrote SO MUCH and it was ALL uh

IT WAS ALL TERRIBLE

but this time i didnt give up! my friends encouraged and uplifted me and i discovered looking up "writing tips" on pinterest and i just kept getting better and now i regret writing that dbh fic.

okay so woefully the emoji does not work BUUUUUT I HAVE THE POWER OF THE INTERNET

roller skate

roller skate?

alright whatever. this is for the next chapter of a little dilemma which you should totally read guys. 👧👦🎠🖐👆 its pretty poorly done not very descriptive (THE EMOJIS NOT THE FIC I SWEAR!!) but im a dumb idiot sorry

why is that a roller ska-

OOH!! IOPIOH OOOH!

okay so this first one is a camp camp fic, in which david adopts max because that is the standard for camp camp fics, it's called Love Like You and it is my ALL-TIME FAVORITE. I LOVE IT

this right here, Can't Sleep (And it's Not Because I'm Touch-Starved) almost ties it despite being a oneshot. this is just a fic of ford being in denial about wanting to cuddle its beautiful its my comfort fic. in fact thats my all-time favorite oneshot and love like you is my all-time favorite multi-chapter

and finally, Oh, brother, we go deeper than the ink beneath the skin. it is a series of sickfics that isnt complete yet and you should pleaaseeee read it? please? i love it its stan and ford-centric and its so cute

i usually dont have any but rn i haveeeeeeeeeee seven, two were from roblox and the other five were from ao3

uhhh hmmm

i used to LOVE hello kitty when i was younger, i was a girl when i was younger if that explains it. i've had this old beat up greyed plushie of her for over ten years now i think? she is in my shelf of things that make me happy and when i finally get my gf shit its going to join her

PURELY writer's block. i belieeeeve the source is boredom or understimulation but i've found that when i just dont work on what i should be working on and start a whole new fic instead i can write like over 1,000 words in one day EASILY but otherwise i struggle to write over 500

okay so i do not ship, this is not even a pairing because stan and ford are canonically brothers but here is my headcanon

in ohbrotherwegodeeperthantheinkbeneaththeskin (goddamn its a long name its linked above) ford is mentioned to have a lamb plushie, and i played cult of the lamb with my brother as the goat so i hc that stan and ford had matching lamb and goat plushies as kids. stan lost his somewhere in the house and ford brought his with him to college, it sat in a box until after the show's events when stan revealed to their mother that "..hey ma.. it might seem crazy what im bout to say" and tells her about ford and both her favorite sons are alive and blah blah

and she HURRIES over to visit them and brings stan's old goat plushie she found somewhere ages ago and kept in good condition as something to remember her baby by

so the twins and their childhood plushies were reunited, and ford named them lambert and goatfrey after some lame shit (my headcanon names for the lamb and goat in cotl 🥺)

here's some art i did and sent to someone on anon so if you've seen this before you probably have but im not stealing it hffhuk dont hurt me

they cherish them

...

*cough*

*cricket sound effe-

no no alright three good things -my birthday is in ten days -i found out which store sells the teabags i used to drink in america (black tea obv hifuhukfh THEY BARELY SELL IT HERE) and im currently drinking iced tea -starting to believe that people actually like my writing

i do not use my notes app i used you as my notes app last night to remind myself to think of ideas for stan and mabel bonding (btw i failed) but the latest thing in my stupid opera flow thing wont let me open flow okay thanks opera. im sure its something about stan and ford

i believe ice machines is up there, also how much water could fill an adult's lungs. i dont thik it was for water i think i was just trying not to get put on any lists

if you feel like having a freakout or reaching for a bad coping mechanism, draw something instead! this has saved me from relapsing multiple times

i dont particularly have a dream-fic but i'd like rubyflakes to write more about stan and ford platonically cuddling

my solution is to get inspired by something else and forget about the first thing and make insane progress on the second thing in one day and feel like you did nothing despite all you did with the second thing because you didnt work on the first thing. it works wonders on the second thing

fucking spiders georg man that man is crazy

i get fucking giddy at any comments but the two types that make me the happiest are specific compliments on parts that they liked (leene i love you/p) or "UHFUHVKFVKHU I LOVED THIS SO MUCH IRHFKHFHJFVJF" (my type of comment that is how i comment)

bill bILL THAT FUCKING--

okay so when he's not being shipped with ford he's an objectively good character. i hate him a lot. -they do a good job at making a *cough* irredeemable villain. genuinely the shit bill does is wholly unforgivable. i do not give a fuck what happened to him i have no sympathy -hes silly!! okay so i do despise him but he is FUNNY at times, gotta give him credit where credit's due -he's rotting in therapy and i hope he stays there 😊😊

..ford

no not really

what the fuck who are you

i hve been scratching my neck like a crackhead waiting to open the birthday gift my friend sent me for five days now. ten more days

i hope that answers your question

you bastard making me work on MY writing/j

okay ehre you are its fir a little dilemma its 100 words they're playing on a see-saw :>

“I knew I could count on you!” Mabel chirped, grinning from ear to ear. She took Ford’s still frustratingly-tiny hand and pulled him toward the see-saw. 

Naturally, Ford climbed on like he had the first time, and gripped the railing tightly with one hand as he pushed off the ground and was lifted into the air. Such a simple action.. and yet it was more fun than he had on a daily basis as an adult. Even the second time! It just didn’t get old! “Whoo!” He cheered, reaching a hand toward the sky that cast a long shadow against the ground.

my brother's username was ___nugg idk if he wants me to share it but i like kitties so i went kittynugg. i hate it so much

this fucking idiot

he stinks

okay so i CANT ATTACH ANHY MORE IMAGES so im gonna continue in another post (future connor here, here's part two!)

[fatalitysficbakery]

hi there! hope you're doing well! can i get fluff #11 with Usnavi from ITH?? have a good day/afternoon/night! :]

𓆰♥︎𓆪 Nina’s Little Sister —

Usnavi De La Vega x Afro-Latina!Y/n

genre: fluff.

warnings: none, fluffy bullshit, halle bailey as faceclaim.

synopsis: 11. “d-did it hurt when heaven fell? I mean- when you…fuck. Anyway, i’m blank and that was humiliating. let’s start over”?

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↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery multifandomed &&’ oc menu 𓆪

↳ 𓆰 Fatalitysficbakery rules + drabble menu 𓆪

⌫

Usnavi turned into a fumbling idiot the second she walked in, puddles of honey swirling in her toffee eyes. Her lips curl into a grin as she walks over to Sonny and ruffles his hair, her giggle turning Navi into mush as she greets his cousins with words he couldn't be bothered to hear.

The summer heat wave had business booming with classes out and the sun glaring bright, his eyes followed her to the frozen section, grabbing an ice cream, she walks over to the counter and this was his chance, his one chance, he figured.

She lies the ice cream cone down, pierced tongue coming out to lick over her bottom lip before she speaks, her voice matching her eyes, smooth honey, with an accent, Puerto Rican.

"Just this".

Benny waves his hand in front of a frozen Usnavi's face, eyebrow nearly touching the ceiling, quick to explain away his bestfriends strange behaviour, "It's been a long day. Navi"! He elbows his friend, whispering a rough, 'talk'.

The first words out of his mouth shock both Benny, Sonny, and the woman in front of him. Benny knew his best friend was awkward but this was humiliating, he just shook his head and grabbed the price gun, both he and Sonny deciding to work instead of witness whatever...this was.

"Did it hurt when Heaven fell"?

"I'm sorry"?

"I mean- When you- Fuck".

The pretty lady giggles and shakes her head, "Wanna try again"?

Usnavi is more than captivated, Benny and Sonny could've sworn they saw the grown man drool a little, it was like watching a puppy fumble over itself. Benny started to pity his dear friend.

"Sorry. Anyway, I'm Usnavi. That was humiliating, Can we start over? That'll be $1".

As she puts the money on the counter, sliding it towards Usnavi, she smiles sweetly, dimples denting her cheeks before she speaks to him in that soft honeyed voice once more. It's like an angel's called to him.

"You really don't remember me, do you Navi baby"?

When he hears the nickname, it all comes crashing back like waves to the shore. Little Y/n Rosario. He hadn't seen her in years, she was always three years behind him and Nina, her older sister. Always had a crush on Navi, he thought it was adorable how she'd trail behind him like a puppy. This. This wasn't Little Y/n Rosario, this was something different.

He blanks trying to come up with something to say, when he remembers everyone was supposed to meet up at Abuela's, for Nina's arrival. Nina's arrival...The youngest Rosario, who'd hailed in from PFW, and Nina were both known to be the ones who got out of the Heights, made something for themselves.

The weeks leading up to their departures were spent drinking and dancing, with celebratory parties all around.

Usnavi saw her off to the train, but back then she was just a pipsqueak, the woman that stood before him now seemed confident and sure of herself.

"Usnavi"?

"No, no, I know who you are. Just took a moment".

The young woman snorts, rolling her eyes at his attempts to act like her new appearance wasn't shocking. She was definitely a different girl than in her younger years, for one he takes notice of her piercings, and the serpent that wrapped around the length of her left thigh, eyes seeming to glow a soft pink.

"It's okay, I'm aware I look a little different than I used to, but...So do you". She cocks her head to the side, eyes running over the male curiously, "You gone be at Abuela's right? I know it'd be nice to see a familiar face".

He nods weakly, her eyes shift from him to Benny and Sonny. She waves a manicured hand to them, "See ya boys later".

"You know it", Sonny sends her awkward finger guns and they all watch her disappear out the front door. Usnavi knew what was coming.

A grin spreads wide across Benny's face, turning to Usnavi.

"You. ain't. got. no. SKILLS".

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪

Usnavi was looking forward to the night ahead, dressing in a pair of jeans, cowboy boots, and a black button-down with two buttons left open.

That night, he couldn't stop picturing the youngest Rosario, drawn to her like moth to burning flame.

His eyes were quick to observe the room, searching for that midnight black in the sea of bodies, when finally his amber eyes landed on yours, greeting people as you entered the crowded apartment.

His eyes follow you around the room. Until finally your eyes land on him.

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"Lookin' Sharp, Navi" You greet him, that same angelic smile making him weak in the knees. He'd drank a beer or two already, and blame it on the liquid courage but Usnavi could feel himself become confident in his ability to talk to you as the beer settles in.

"You flatter me, mama. Look at you, vision of perfection".

As he watches you, he manspreads in his chair, beer in hand and eyes low staring into your very soul.

"Whatchu drinkin"? You asked, walking up to him with deep brownie eyes gazing into his, he's not sure how he didn't faint then and there, that smile had him by the balls. She could make him do anything as long as those doe eyes stared all big and beautiful into his.

"Some nasty ass beer, but uh Dani brought whiskey, rum and shit. Said we could make our own drinks".

"And your ass is over here drinking piss? With free reign to rum and shit, plus the cognac and d'usse me and Nini brought"? Her hands clasped around his wrist and she sighed, "C'mon, We're gonna make this right and I'm making you some that'll knock you off your feet".

Looking you over again, he agrees. You've already done exactly that.

He follows behind you, and this time it's he who looks like the love-sick puppy.

When the two of you are away from the crowd, you grab two cups, exhaling airily, you begin to mix a few things together in concentration. He just watches you do your thing, the music playing in the background making it feel like a scene out of a movie as you playfully bumped your hip against his, the two of you laughing joyfully.

When it was finished, you presented him with a cup with a slushy-like mix in it, blue and smelling like a three-day hangover with some blue hawaiian punch to accompany it.

"Voila~"

He chuckles, taking the cup with a skeptical smile on his face. He sighs, raising a brow, "You're taking a sip first, ionno bout this, ma".

"You don't trust me"? You asked, pouting dramatically, "Fine, Give me the cup, coward".

"Ay, I'm not a coward. I'm just not a complete dumbass".

You roll your eyes, glaring at him as you move the cup to your lips, he's tuned in immediately, watching his favourite movie never seen before staring at those pouty lips of yours wrapped around the rim of the cup, gazing into his eyes with a constant, entrapping, eye contact.

His focus is broken when you scrunch up your nose at the strength of the drink, face relaxing when the flavour hits your tongue.

"Huh, strong but I like it. Here, taste".

You held the cup up to his lips, the two of you were in a house full of people and it'd started to feel like you were the only two in the room.

When it hits his tongue, the poor thing instantly coughs, his face scrunching up like he'd just eaten a warhead, but when your laugh fills his ears, it becomes all worth it. If he could hear that forever, he would.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪

Let Carla and Daniela tell it, You and Usnavi had been inseparable all night, the roles reversed from your childhood. Anybody with eyes could see Usnavi De La Vega was head over heels, scurrying in front of Sonny when he was about to sit next to you just so he could sit there himself.

Sonny glares at his older cousin, sitting next to Benny and Nina whilst Usnavi just looks triumphant.

"Navi you nearly knocked the kid over" Cuca scolds, hitting the boy upside his head. You snicker, but the smile that threatens to come onto your face when you realize he's doing all this over you...

"It's okay, I'll remember that next time he needs me to pick up an extra shift".

Nina pops in with a quick but swift landing exposure, sending both you and Navi's cheeks blazing red, "Give him a break, he's just in looooveee".

The table erupts into hoots and hollers, a person on either side of you or Navi shaking you both by the shoulders in excitement, there's only one party at the table who hadn't decided to make a fuss about it. When the volume quiets down, you cross your arms over your chest and playfully chide in, "And you and Benny"?

Nina gives you the middle finger, and it's her and Benny's turn to be fussed over.

⌫

The table is lighthearted, everyone's joking around and having fun. Usnavi has his arm over your shoulder most of the time without even realizing it, but he doesn't have to notice, and neither do you. Vanessa, who'd been silent most of the time, was tired, quite frankly, the only Rosario she cared for was Nina. Her glare most of the night was on you and Usnavi, Carla was the first to notice, Daniela and Cuca took notice as well.

You and Usnavi stayed oblivious, as Carla leaned over to Vanessa to ask what was going on.

This is when it all goes downhill, The women of the barrio could be gossipy, they flourished within environments of drama, thrived.

"You okay, Vanessa"? Cuca asks, louder than Carla had. There's a devious smirk on her face as the table takes notice of Vanessa's obviously plummeting mood. You wanted to ignore it, truly did, but it dawned on you pretty quickly what Cuca was doing, why Vanessa seemed so pissy.

You glance up at Usnavi who, for once, catches on pretty fast as well. He and Vanessa went...back. Back, as in, it was never meant to work out, he had a schoolboy crush, they tried to make it work, but it just...didn't.

"Ah nothin', Y/n I was wondering how Paris went? Fashion week? I'm sure you're a pretty popular girl, Got a man waiting for you back home? Maybe 2? 3"?

The table looks at her as if she'd grown a second head, Usnavi is silent, the table is silent. She takes a sip of her martini and laughs it off fakely, "Just kidding guys, Just. Kidding".

This is what you'd been telling your sister about since you were younger; Nina never quite got the picture because Vanessa was her best friend, she wanted to believe she was a good person because that's all Vanessa allowed her to see. The angel of the barrio, the prettiest too.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Your sister raises an angry brow, she looks at you with a familiar questioning 'You got this' expression, and for once, for once since you'd found your voice, you nod.

"We broke up, bout 4 months ago, didn't work out with the two of us. But...I'm moving back, and that's all that matters".

Again, the table breaks out into a thunderous roar of hoots and hollers at the news of you staying.

Vanessa looks furious.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪

After the party had died down, and thinned out. You and Usnavi stayed behind to clean up, help abuela to bed, and lock up.

When all is said and done, you head out onto the fire escape, drinks in hand. You felt comfort in the silence, looking over to see Usnavi felt the same way. It was nostalgic in a way, reminded you of the night before you left, sharing a beer on the fire escape, praying abuela didn't wake her ass up to see the two of you drinking, yet you never stopped or went somewhere else.

Abuela's place was the safest for all of you.

"You feel it too"?

"We was out here sneaking and drinking not too long ago". You nod, laughing lightly, your knees knocking with his just. like. then.

"And now you're in magazines, looking beautiful as ever".

"And now we're both a little older, little more in tune with who we are".

Usnavi smiles, his eyes leaving the night sky to look at you.

"And we know what we want now".

Your breath hitches, looking up at him now, his hand comes out to tilt your chin up, make sure you're looking at him directly. He leans in, barely a breath away.

"Do we"? You ask, voice soft, sweet.

Usnavi chuckles, his lips ghosting over yours.

"Mhm...I think we do".

Your lips finally touch.

Magic.

𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪𓆰♥︎𓆪𓆰♡︎𓆪

A/n: I hope you enjoy, pretty!