#it just looks a little different for them
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 days ago
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In the world of heavy metals, love is denser than hate!
#Poorly drawn SVSSS#SVSSS#luo bingge#luo binghe#ask#Is that right? Two different character tags? I think that is right.#I'm calling myself out with screenshotting the asks with the dates because my full ask box has become a problem I'm determined to solve.#I promise you that if I did not respond to your ask it was because I 1) *really* wanted to hold on to it to make a doodle reply#or 2) really was so touched by the message and got overwhelmed#So expect many year + old asks suddenly gaining a reappearance! I'm going to get to them ALL.#Back to Luo Binghe (both versions). You see...the substance he is made with has a chemical reaction to affection.#Like how a pokemon has multiple paths to evolution depending on it's friendship points or exposure to random stones#so to does he evolve into various forms. I feel like Bingge (Ht) would be a noble gas. Unable to form bonds#I could also see him as a Halogen-type of element! Highly reactive and only truly found in manufactured environments.#And Binghe (Lv) would be an alkaline earth metal (+2). Sturdy. Forms bond better but not freely giving them away.#this is the second time I've related characters to elements - and I am far less familar with Scum Villian so please feel free to chime in.#I could be way off base here and I am very down for someone to talk chemistry and character themes.#Thank you all for the love you have given my silly little LBH. It means a lot to me B*)#Don't...don't look too hard at the lack of mark on his forehead here. I gave up. It's just...hidden behind his bangs.
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peachesofteal · 3 days ago
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader
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“And you have all your meds.”
“Yes, Simon.”
“And Cami knows she’s on standby?”
“Yes. Simon, we’re fine.” You pat his bicep but he doesn’t release the hold he has on your shoulders. He can’t bring himself to.
“Maybe I should have started leave earlier.” Uncertainity plagues him, kept him teetering from one side of a fence to another all week. He doesn’t want to go, never wants to, but now, it’s different. It’s worse.
“No. I’m seven months. There’s still two left to go and I’m in perfect health. Nothing is going to happen, okay?” You’re trying so hard to reassure him, but it doesn’t help. You reach up and cup his face, thumb smoothing over his freshly shaved cheek. “Hey.”
“‘m fine.”
“You’re not.” He huffs, leans and presses his forehead against yours. “I’m going to be fine, Si. You’ll be back before you know it and I’ll still be miserable and pregnant.” You sigh, and pull away to burrow yourself in his chest, his stomach. He wishes he could keep you there. “Now make your promise.”
“I promise to be home soon.” He kisses your forehead. He says it every time, and it hasn’t failed him yet. Your face, your voice, the curves of your body in his hands carry him home every time. “I love you mama.”
“I love you too.”
“Ye’re on somethin’ else LT.” Johnny claps his palm over the wound above his eyebrow, trying to stem the bleeding. Simon grunts.
“Need to make quick work of this.” Price shoots him a look, but Simon ignores him. “Got a pregnant wife at home.” They don’t need the reminder.
“Ah know, ah know.” He has been on something else, this entire op. Has been speed running through objectives, speed running through bodies.
“Besides. Holidays comin’ up. Don’t want to be out here when Cami is turning the house into Christmas village.” Gaz winces.
“We’re taking a break tonight to regroup.” Price gives them all a pointed look, and Simon nods.
“Course.”
He can’t sleep.
Every time he closes his eyes he sees you face down in a pool of blood, Orion nowhere to be found, or worse. Dead in his bed. The visions meld with memories, cold sweat breaking out down his back.
He checks his phone. Nothing.
Why haven’t you called? 
You always call to check in. If his phone is off, you leave a voicemail. If it’s on, he answers. It’s a balm to his anxiety, his worry that’s always lurking in the back of his mind.
He’s not supposed to make outgoing calls this round, and he knows that, logically understands it, but he can’t stop clicking the phone icon next to your contact.
It doesn’t ring. Straight to voicemail.
He clears his throat. “Hey honey, wanted to check in. Haven’t heard from you today. I hope you’re resting and little man isn’t givin’ you too much of a rough time. Call me, I love you.”
It does nothing to gentle the fear that’s roaring in his ears now. He won’t sleep. Not tonight.
So he lumbers down the stairs to the kitchen for a tea, stopping short when he hears Laswell’s voice crackling through the speaker, her usually calm cadence turned rushed.
The floorboards creak beneath his feet, and John turns, face grim and full of dread. “Hold on.” John murmurs, and Kate grinds to a stop.
“What’s goin’ on?” An unnatural apprehension settles in his gut. A sixth sense.
“Simon.” John says. Just his name, and he knows. He feels it. His knees go weak, and it’s a struggle to remain upright.
“Where is she?”
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aquaticmercy · 3 days ago
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Sleeper
Summary : When Bucky falls in love with the antihero he’s sleeping with, he offers her a place in the Thunderbolts*.
Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x antihero!reader (she/her) 
Warnings/tags : Violence, death, sex (a prominent theme but not graphic), cursing. Borderline obsessive behaviour. Congressman Barnes as per the Thunderbolts teaser. Batman/Catwoman-like dynamic. (Let me know if I miss anything.)
Word count : 6.5k
Note : This fic was genuinely written because of the van scene in the Thunderbolts trailer. That’s it. That’s how down bad I am for Thunderbolts Bucky. Reader is an antihero called ‘Sleeper.’ The Thunderbolts are referred to as ‘the team.’ The reader and Bucky first met a little bit before FATWS. I also have a cap! Sam fic coming out soon because my god. I am drooling over these two. Enjoy!
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Bucky first heard of your existence in whispers.
He had heard your codename in hushed tones when he got off the ice in Wakanda, after Shuri helped rid his brain of the trigger words that haunted him.
Several of the Dora Milaje had crossed paths with you in Ivory Coast, and they had told everyone in the palace about how terrifyingly efficient—and violent— you had been. They said you finished the job before they even got there.
Your codename was nothing but silent rumours by those on the fringes of the intelligence community. They called you ‘Sleeper’— it wasn't a name you chose for yourself, but you have chosen to embrace the fear that people associated with it. 
You were an antihero, a vigilante who left rivers of blood in your wake.
Four years ago, you started tracking down the same corrupt officials and Hydra remnants that Bucky was trying to arrest.
The difference: Bucky set out to turn them in, you had your heart set on killing them, fast and efficient, as you always have been.
The first time you crossed paths with the former Winter Soldier, it was in a crumbling KGB safehouse in Eastern Europe. Bucky had taken down most of the guards, ready to haul the high-ranking operative to a jail cell in DC where he can await his trial. He was tired, the strain of therapy and sleepless nights holding him down, but this mission kept him focused.
But when he reached the operative’s office, the target was already slumped over his desk, cold and lifeless. 
"Guess I beat you to it, soldier," you said, voice laced with a confidence that made his stomach twist. You let him process the sight of you—fitted black suit, gloved hands, and a smirk that told him you were not only dangerous, but damn well aware of it. A mask obscured your eyes, but even with half of your face covered, he could see how smug you looked.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” he said, voice low.
“Good thing I wasn’t asking for you permission.” You tilted your head, the ghost of a laugh in your voice. You were watching him, sizing him up with those sharp eyes that felt like they could through see every part of him he tried to keep hidden. 
“Sergeant James Barnes, right?” You said his name with a familiarity that sent a jolt through him. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Never thought I’d actually run into you, though. Lucky night for me.”
He narrowed his eyes, not trusting this mysterious stranger, though he couldn’t deny he was intrigued. “And you are…?”
“I have no name to claim for myself,” you shrugged, leaning back against the wall, “but people call me Sleeper.” You let the name linger, knowing he’d recognize it. 
His memory reeled back to Ayo and the Dora Milaje, who had warned him of you: ruthless, volatile. A ghost who disappeared without a trace, always a step ahead. He’d just never expected Sleeper to be… so easy on the eyes.
“I didn’t ask for your help.” He repeated with no conviction. He narrowed his eyes at the body. “Especially not like this.”
You shrugged, pushing off the wall and strolling over. “Relax, soldier,” your gaze met his, “I only go after the ones who deserve it. Just because I do it my way doesn’t mean I’m the villain here.”
“Still doesn’t make it right,” he muttered, but there was a flicker of curiosity underneath his stormy blue eyes.
“Then stop me,” you challenged softly, leaning close enough to feel his breath. “If you can.”
His breath hitched ever so slightly.
You grinned, a spark of intrigue lighting up in your gaze. “I’ll be waiting, James.”
And before he could respond, you were gone.
He knew he should’ve stopped you— but some part of him was glad he hadn’t. 
As you disappeared, he felt something he hadn’t in a long, long time: excitement.
From that day on, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. 
At first, it was frustrating. You were hard to track, ruthless—and yet there was a sickening righteous principle to your actions that he couldn’t deny.
As the weeks went by, something else rooted in his brain when he thought of you. Fascination. 
His mind often wandered about you during his quiet, sleepless nights, wondering who you were beneath the mask, beneath the mystery and the whispers.
Sam noticed, of course. He'd raise an eyebrow whenever Bucky lingered too long over case files where you'd been mentioned. He’d nudge if he seemed overly eager to volunteer for missions that involved your typical targets.
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll show,” Sam teased once, nudging Bucky. “She’s dangerous, though. Is that your type?”
Bucky scoffed, but he knew Sam was right. And maybe that danger was part of what kept him intrigued.
The next time you crossed paths, it was in a dark alleyway, both of you dripping with sweat and breathing heavily after taking down an underground fighting ring. 
“You know,” he’d said, “killing them doesn’t make it justice.”
“You think turning them in is enough?” Your voice had cut through the air like a knife, but there was no malice behind it. You wanted him to understand your line of thinking, wanted him to know. “People like them are everywhere. They’ll get out. They’ll come back.”
“So you think you get to decide whether they live or die?” he challenged, jaw tight.
“No,” you said, readjusting your mask. “But I do it anyway.” There was a flicker of sadness in your gaze that he noticed, even if you tried to hide it.
What had happened to you? He thought to himself. What have you been through?
In that moment, he noticed the pain behind your eyes, the kind of pain he knew intimately. You weren’t just someone who killed for vengeance; you must have had your reasons. You must have carried scars that ran deep, maybe deeper than his.
From that point on, Bucky made it a habit to look for you on every mission. It was like an unspoken game, this cat-and-mouse chase. Every time he saw you, the tension between you grew. 
Sometimes, he’d get there first, managing to intercept before you could execute the target. Other times, you’d arrive at the same time. He’d try to talk you out of it, to make you see things his way, but you’d laugh him off, the kind of laugh that hinted at more than your fair share of heartache. 
And sometimes, you’d tease him, push boundaries he wasn’t sure he should cross.
“You like this, don’t you, James?” You’d whisper it low, close enough for him to catch your scent, a faint hint of gunpowder and vanilla perfume. “The chase. Getting to play the hero while I get my hands dirty.”
He wanted to deny it, but he couldn’t. 
Bucky grew obsessed, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Every encounter left him more and more drawn to you. He’d search for files on you for days on end without sleep, but all he found were reports with no concrete evidence. He found himself looking for excuses to track your movements, hoping he’d be there to stop you but not quite sure he wanted to succeed.
One night, after another close call, you leaned into him as he pushed you up against the wall. He could feel the heat radiating off you, the electricity charged in the space between you. You looked up at him, the smallest hint of vulnerability peeking through your mask.
“Why do you keep doing this, James?” you asked, voice softer this time. “You can’t save me.”
“Maybe not,” he replied, frowning as his eyes looked down to the edge of your lips, “but I can try.”
That night, he wondered just how long he could keep up this dance before one of you finally gave in.
One night, while you were on a caper in Prague, everything changed for the two of you. 
The mission had been bloody, chaotic, and a little too close to mayhem for Bucky’s liking. You had taken down an entire network of arms dealers, setting fire to one of their last remaining munitions blocks and leaving it to burn. 
Bucky had arrived too late, frantically trying to contain the chaos you’d left in your wake, alerting local authorities, making sure the flames didn’t spread to a nearby market.
When he caught up to you, adrenaline ran hot through his veins. 
He'd followed you through winding streets and up dark staircases, up to the hotel you were holed up in. He followed you into your room, locking you both in.
His voice was tight, anger simmering beneath. “You’re careless.” His blue eyes were striking underneath the european moonlight, “you could’ve taken out half the neighbourhood, and for what?”
“I got the job done, James.” You shrugged, trying to look unbothered. “It’s not pretty, but it works.”
He stepped closer, and you held his gaze, “You know, I’d turn you in if you weren’t so…” he paused, his voice faltering, as if the words were lodged in his throat, “Weren’t so…”
Your pulse quickened. “If I weren’t so what?” You snapped, daring him to finish, to admit what had been hanging between you two since the day you met.
But he didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into a fierce, bruising kiss.
You didn’t hesitate—you kissed him back with just as much fire, your hands tangling in his hair.
Bucky’s hands found your waist, fingers digging in with enough pressure to leave marks. He pushed you back until your shoulders hit the wall, lips moving down your jaw, then hot against your neck. His breaths were ragged, matching your own, and he was holding you as if letting go would mean losing control entirely. 
You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips as his mouth found a sensitive spot on the dip in your collarbone, his hands roaming possessively over your back, down your sides.
You pulled him back to your mouth, desperately needing that connection. 
When you finally broke apart for air, his forehead rested against yours. You untied your mask and threw it across the room.
Fuck. he thought as his eyes widened, taking in your full facial features for the first time. You were even more beautiful than I imagined you to be. 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he thought to himself, I’m done for.
He was ready to throw you in jail cell. Instead, he ended up in your bed.
That night, in the dim light of your cheap hotel room, clothes were shed in hurried, frustrated movements, and all that pent-up tension finally found its release.
That first time had been desperate, raw. Both of you were driven by the need to let go, to feel something other than the weight of the cold blooded kills and the darkness you both carried.
Ever since then, every time you crossed paths, it was the same: adrenaline-fueled clashes and heated conversations about morality turned into hotel room rendezvous, hands grasping, lips colliding, both of you seeking the kind of solace you could only ever find in each other. 
You’d never admitted it out loud, but Bucky had an effect on you. When he was around, you found yourself hesitating just that split second longer before slicing your target’s arteries and leaving them to bleed.
You didn’t feel the need to wipe out every enemy anymore, and his disapproval of your methods had started haunting you in ways you’d never expected. Maybe that was why you’d started allowing him to find you more often, taking on jobs you knew he’d be there for. 
It was a dangerous game, but you kept playing it. He was obsessed with finding you, and you weren’t about to stop him.
He’d learned to read you better, your patterns, the places you tended to show up. By the time you landed in some city on the opposite end of the globe, he’d be there like clockwork, showing up right before you finished a job, confronting you before you could disappear into the night.
But the nights you spent together were… different. 
You never asked about each other’s pasts; you kept it in the here and now, keeping him at a safe distance even as you let him pull you under the covers time and again.
Every time he asked your real name, you’d smile and brush him off, deflecting his curiosity with a kiss or a teasing answer. He didn’t press, but you could see the questions in the way his brow furrowed, could feel the affection in the way he lingered in the mornings after, with a soft smile in his eyes that made your heart beat faster.
Each time, he told himself it was just catharsis, just a release of frustration for both of you, nothing more. But that excuse had worn thin over the years, and Bucky knew it as well as you did. 
He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He wasn’t blind to the way you’d look at him as he drifted to sleep next to you. Once, he caught a flicker of something vulnerable in your eyes before you put the walls back up. 
And God, was he drawn to you, to the side of you that fought so fiercely, that showed just enough vulnerability to keep him coming back. He was so fucking desperate to understand you better, to see more of the person underneath the mask.
One night, after a mission in Manila, you’d both ended up in a small, worn-down cheap hotel room overlooking the city lights. You were leaning against the headrest of the bed, a hint of sweat clinging to your skin, breathing still unsteady as you came down from the high you gave each other.
He watched you, his gaze lingering on the barely-perceptible rise and fall of your chest. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” you muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. There was a tremor in your tone, a flicker of something vulnerable that he wasn’t sure you meant for him to hear.
“Like what?” he asked, nuzzling closer to you. His now long hair was tied back in a low bun, your hair tie holding it together because he didn't have one of his own.
“Like you want something from me that I’m too broken to give,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes. But he reached for you, tipping your chin up until you had no choice but to look at him, and there it was—that flicker of affection he knew ran just as deep in you as it did in him.
“Maybe I want it anyway,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a quiet intensity. “You ever think of that?”
“This is just a release, James.” Your gaze softened for just a second, long enough for him to catch it before you shook your head, pulling yourself from his grasp. “It’s just something we both need.”
Even as you said it, you weren't convinced. He reached for you again, pulling you close, and kissed you because that was the only thing you’d let him do.
You melted into him once more, you found yourself wondering just how much longer you could keep him at arm’s length.
The shift in Bucky’s life had been as dramatic as it was unexpected. You’d never pegged him for politics—neither had he, to be fair—but here he was, representing his district, looking sharp in a suit that cost more than the last few hotels you’d met in combined. 
He’s upgraded. Freshly elected, polished up, all suited and respectable as a congressman, fighting for reform from a marble office by day and for justice in dark alleys by night. 
But tonight, with that half-smile he only gets with you, he’s still the same— still carrying that simmering tension in his lips, his hair tousled from a long night of pursuing you through the shadows. 
After a mission that had you both knee-deep in an abandoned bunker hunting a rogue assassin, you found yourself together once again. Only this time, the hotel he’d booked was far from cheap. 
He brought you to a five-star suite. The bed was massive, the sheets soft, and the view from the window sprawled out over the city skyline, a stark contrast to the dingy rooms you’d gotten used to. 
Now, lying beside him in the rumpled silk sheets, you watched him catch his breath. You moved off of his lap to lay next to him, euphoric from the guilty pleasure you both indulged in. 
“You know, the second someone finds out Congressman Barnes has a relationship with a violent vigilante, you’re out of office.”
He looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “Relationship?”
Fuck. He caught you slipping up. He caught you thinking about a relationship with him.
“Casual sex is still a relationship, James.” You shrugged, trying to save face. You turned to him, with a lazy, unconvinced smile, “Strings attached or not, it counts.”
He shifted, the corner of his mouth twitching as he watched your wall break, even if only one brick at a time. “Casual,” His fingers traced idle patterns along your bare shoulder. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
“Unless you’re pretending you don’t want it anymore.” You paused, leaning closer, “Or maybe you just like that I could ruin everything. That I could say one word to the press, post one picture online and your reputation is finished. You’d be back to square one.”
He chuckled, his fingers grazing down your arm. It was terrifying, how comfortable he’d become with you. “I trust that you wouldn’t,” he said softly, voice laced with that steady confidence, like he knows you better than you know yourself.
His declaration hung in the air, and you felt guilt striking in your chest.
This wasn’t supposed to be part of this arrangement. Trust was for partners, for couples, for people who wanted things that lasted. 
You shook it off, leaning back, a little smirk tugging at your lips as you lifted a brow. “You’re right. I do have a soft spot for you, Congressman Barnes,” you added, the title rolling off your tongue with a touch of sarcasm, “Consider it my gift to democracy.”
He laughed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. His hand drifted down to catch yours, holding it in a way that felt too natural, too comfortable for what you were supposed to be. 
You both knew, despite the banter and the invisible boundaries, this thing between you was already past casual. It was the reason he keeps showing up where you showed up, the reason you’re letting him into your life in ways you never let anyone before. You were both just too stubborn to say it.
He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a way that feels almost… affectionate. For a moment, you let yourself sink into it, forgetting the consequences, the danger, the fact that this man might just unravel you completely and you would have no say in it whatsoever.
When you pulled back, his fingers trailed over your bare waist. “Maybe it’s more than just a soft spot,” he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper.
You raised an eyebrow, heart beating out of your chest. “Let’s not get sentimental, James,” you brushed, letting your fingers graze his jaw as you murmured, “You’ve got an image to protect, after all.”
He lets out a sigh that’s part laughter, part frustration. He knew you were deflecting. “Right,” he said, brushing his lips against yours again. 
“You and your image,” you chuckled, “Out there, shaking hands and making speeches about justice while you sneak off to hotel rooms with someone like me.”
He grinned, not a trace of shame in his expression as he turned his gaze back to you. “Someone’s gotta keep you in line. Even if it takes…” His voice lowered, dropping into that deep, teasing tone that made your stomach knot. “…a hands-on approach.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re the last person who’d ever get me in line, James.” You leaned closer, though you didn't believe a single word you said. 
There was a long silence for a while. He eventually reached out, brushing a lock of hair back from your face, his thumb tracing over your cheek.
“Maybe you’re right,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe that’s why I keep coming back.”
As the city lights cast a faint glow over the room, you lay there in silence, limbs tangled together in a way that felt a little less no strings attached every time.
The next time you meet, you were on a late-night operation on the dark outskirts of the city. You’ve tracked down a group of mercenaries. They’re as ruthless as they were careless, leaving a trail of devastation across the criminal underworld. But tonight, their recklessness will end with you. 
You moved through in silence, precise, methodical. One by one, you took them down, not killing, but incapacitating them. Your fists were quick, your strikes precise. It’s what you’ve done for years, a grim pattern of efficiency that never required a second blow. Just as you reached the man who hired them with your knife drawn—a local crime lord—you felt his presence before you saw him.
“Think twice, Sleeper,” Bucky said from behind you.
You froze, heart pounding as you stood over the crime lord begging for mercy. It would be so easy to end this now, but with Bucky watching, you hesitated.
You lowered the knife.
Instead of killing him, you tied him up alongside the other mercenaries, ignoring the questions in their fearful eyes. Bucky made a call, alerting local authorities to pick up the mess you’ve left behind.
“What now?” you asked, walking away from the carnage. You were expecting the usual pattern: another hotel room, a brief reprieve from the violence, nothing more. 
But he surprised you, lacing his hand in between your fingers, warm and secure. 
He had never, ever, showed affection outside closed doors.
“Come with me.” 
You didn’t expect Bucky to take you back to his place, but soon you were standing outside a sleek high-rise in the heart of the city. You followed him up to his penthouse apartment. It’s almost disorienting— the polished floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows.
You found yourself standing in the quiet entryway of his home. The walls were painted in light, earthy tones, and the furniture was clean, modern, yet warm.
You glanced around, taking in the small details that hinted at Bucky's life beyond the missions. There were bookshelves lined with novels and memoirs, some old and looked like first editions, others barely touched. A few black-and-white photographs decorated the walls—New York City at dusk, a forest path, a beach sunset. It was an oddly peaceful place for a man like him. Certainly too peaceful for someone as broken as you.
“This is risky, James,” you said, looking up at him as he closed the door behind him, “Showing me where you live.”
“No, it's not,” he replied, his conviction absolute. “I trust you.”
There it was again. That word. Trust. The thing you never quite knew what to do with, especially coming from him.
You studied the way his favourite leather jacket was tossed on a chair, a half-read book by the couch. It felt like stepping across an invisible line. You set your mask down on the table before he grabbed your waist and pulled you close.
“This feels like crossing a boundary, James,” you admitted. You knew he should pull back, give you a chance to retreat. But you didn't want him to.
So he didn’t.
Instead, he cupped your face as he tilted your chin up gently. “What boundary?” he asked.
He knew that there were nothing separating you two. Not anymore.
The space between you vanished as his lips met yours. You kissed him back, losing yourself in the process of tasting him. His hands slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. Kissing him felt like falling— like surrender.
You made your way to his bedroom, bodies tangled together, a blur of heated whispers and gasping breaths. Clothes fell away, discarded like old skin. The way he looked at you, it was like he was memorising every inch of you.
In that moment, you realised: the boundary had never been there. Not for him. Maybe not for you either.
The room was quiet as you lay tangled up in Bucky’s sheets. The duvet smelled like him, unlike the neutral, sterile scent of the usual hotel sheets. 
You’d never admit it, but it was intoxicating. 
The satisfied pulsing in your body had put a hazy filter over everything. 
Bucky smiled softly, kissing your forehead before reaching to his bedside drawer, pulling out a small glass box, placing it gently on your palm.
"Here," he murmured, almost shyly. He opened the box to reveal a hair tie inside. 
Oh. You recognised it. The ends were a bit frayed, the colour faded.
It was the hair tie you’d given him in Manila, a lifetime ago, a little piece of you that he’d tucked away in a corner of his home
You blinked, caught off guard. "You still have that?"
He shrugged, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours. Was he… embarrassed? "I thought it was... worth keeping."
"Careful, James,” you couldn't help but tease him, nuzzling closer into his arms. “Keep this up and you might just start falling in love with me."
You felt his breath hitch.
He looked up, finally. Nervously.
Instead of denying it, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, warm whisper. "Would that be so bad?"
His fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver through your spine. Your heart fluttered irregularly, your head spinning in a daze as you tried to keep your thoughts down.
No.
You couldn’t let him see that he was getting to you like this, so you did what you always did: you deflected, grinning forcefully and rolling your eyes.
"Yeah, right," you said, brushing off the moment. As much as it broke your heart to deny the truth, you were doing it for his sake and yours. "I'm not that easy to love, James."
He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing your skin as he pulled you closer, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Maybe that's why I do." 
You shifted away from him, wrapping yourself in the sheets as if they could shield you from what he was offering — and from the ache in his gaze. 
"We can’t…" you said, voice barely above a whisper. "We can’t do this."
Bucky's eyes darkened, but he would be alright. He expected this from you.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to collect himself. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the battle between his desire for you and something else… there was something bigger. 
"I need to tell you something," he said quietly. “I have… a team.”
That caught you off guard. 
Bucky? On a team? He’d always seemed like a lone wolf, just like you. 
“There’s a couple of former Widows, who you’d get along with. Two other super soldiers. And someone who can… phase. Quantum experiment gone wrong.” He paused, “We’re trying to make something real here. And it’s missing someone.” His fingers trailed down your forearm, eventually clasping your palm in his, “It’s missing you.”
He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears, trailing your jawline delicately with his metal hand, “I need you.”
The invitation went unanswered for a moment. You swallowed, caught off-guard by how badly he seemed to want this, how he wanted you to be part of it.
“I work alone, James,” you said, brushing off the offer with a small, bitter smile. “You know that.”
“But why not?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “Why won’t you let someone else in for once?”
The frustration in his tone was raw, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of pain flash across his face from this rejection.
“This is your chance to do something good the right way,” he pressed, and there was a quiet urgency in his voice. “No more hunting down bad guys with no direction. No more living like you’ve got nothing left to lose.”
His words sank in, and your walls felt shakier than ever. The idea of leaving the past behind, of actually building something… you hadn’t let yourself imagine it in years.
“Just think about it,” he said softly, placing his forehead on yours. “You don't have to decide now. Just… consider it.”
You gave a noncommittal shrug, but the truth was that his offer echoed in your mind, louder than you wanted to admit. He smiled at your dismissiveness, recognizing the crack in your armour. He didn’t push further. 
You realised that for the first time in a long time, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to say no.
The next time you saw Bucky was in the middle of a mission neither of you had wanted. 
Just a week had passed since you’d spent the night in his apartment. Since then, you had told yourself you shouldn’t return. You couldn’t. You were getting too close, feeling too much.
It was getting dangerous.
But then Bucky had reached out to you, voice tight and desperate, the kind of desperation that stripped away all his pride. It was a vulnerability even you hadn't seen from him before. His team was in over their heads, he’d said. He needed you. 
You’d agreed to help, but you’d been careful to remind him that this was a one-time thing. One mission, and that was it.
But then everything went wrong.
It happened so fast, you barely understood how everything had gone wrong. 
You were with Bucky, fighting side-by-side, the two of you moving as if connected by some invisible thread. 
You had taken a blow, separating you from everyone else. You tried standing up but fuck! The impact had shattered your ankle, sending a searing pain through your leg. Your nerves were on fire in a way they had never been before.
You couldn't move. 
You couldn't get up. Couldn’t run.
And then the ground shifted, an explosion roared from behind, and the next thing you knew, a van was thrown across the road, hurtling straight toward you.
For a single, frozen heartbeat, you realised this was it. 
It was over.
You saw the faces of bystanders staring from the sidewalk, their eyes wide, too horrified to look away. You let go of the cold steel of your knife still gripped in your hand. The acrid taste of smoke on your tongue intensified. And the truck—a wall of twisted metal hurtling closer, closer, impossibly fast.
You’d spent so many years brushing so close to death that you always thought you’d be ready.
But now, all you felt was regret.
Regret that this was how you’d die: in the middle of a cold, empty street, surrounded by strangers who would never remember you, never know who you were or what you’d done. 
Alone. 
You thought of Bucky in those last seconds—his quiet smiles, the way he’d look at you like he could see through every wall you put up, the silent crutch he’d offered without expecting anything in return. Bucky, who’d trusted you, who’d somehow cared for you even after everything you’d done. 
For the first time, you felt regret for every life you’d taken, every person you’d left to die in your wake.
Your life had been nothing but survival and bloodshed. You had told yourself it was necessary, that it was the only way. But here, now, with your own death inches away, it all felt hollow.
You’d given up hope, abandoned the idea of redemption long ago—because you were too broken.
And yet, with Bucky, something had changed. He had looked at you and somehow seen past it all. He’d made you feel as if maybe, just maybe, you were something more than the ghost you’d become. Maybe, instead of running, you could have found a way to fight for something real, something that mattered. 
Maybe you could have been someone better. 
You would never know now.
The world narrowed, and you braced yourself for the inevitable, hoping it would be quick and painless. Your fingers tightened, clinging to the memory of him in those last, precious seconds as you waited to feel the impact—
But it never came.
Instead, there was a rush of air, a deafening crash, and then—silence. You blinked, dazed, your heart still hammering, and when you looked up, Bucky was standing there, his metal arm outstretched, braced against the van that he’d deflected away.
He turned to face you, his expression raw, worry carved deep into his features as he scanned you, checking for injuries. For a moment, he just stared, his breathing uneven, as if he’d been the one facing certain death.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice panicked.
You tried to answer, but the words tangled, caught in your throat. You managed a nod, barely able to process what had just happened. 
“Shit,” he kneeled next to you, “Is your ankle broken, can you walk?”
You stared at him, trembling as he tore a part of his shirt and wrapped it around your injury for support.
Bucky had saved you. He had thrown himself in front of a hurtling vehicle without a moment of hesitation, as if your life were worth that sacrifice. 
He had saved you.
You were alive because of him.
Alive, when you’d already accepted that you were going to die alone.
No one had ever done that for you. No one had ever saved you—not like this, not without asking anything in return. Hell, you never thought that you deserved to be saved.
“You’re okay, Sleeper,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was reassuring himself as much as you. “I’m here.”
His words settled into the cracks that had broken open inside you, filling them in ways you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t realised how empty you’d felt until now, how long you’d carried the weight of loneliness, of believing that this life—this endless, solitary fight—was all you deserved. 
Bucky made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to be alone. That maybe, even after all you’d done, there was a place for you outside the shadows.
“Don’t call me that,” your voice trembled, “I don’t want you to call me Sleeper anymore.”
Bucky stopped for a second, confused. “What do you want me to call you, then?”
You couldn’t hold it back anymore. Something inside you broke, raw and vulnerable, and the name you’d hidden for years slipped from your lips before you even realised it. Your real name—your last, fragile piece of self you’d kept locked away, hoping one day you’d be able to reclaim it. 
It felt right with Bucky, like you could trust him with it, like you could let yourself be seen.
Bucky’s eyes widened, his face softening as he repeated it, almost reverent, like he wanted to remember how it felt to say it. 
Hearing him say your name, like a prayer, like it was sacred, like it mattered— tore down whatever walls you had left. He’d given you something you didn’t know you could have: the feeling of belonging to yourself again. The feeling of belonging to the world again.
Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers shaking. He moved, pulling you closer. His touch was grounding, steady—a lifeline that anchored you to the moment, to this fragile reality where you didn’t have to be alone anymore. 
You pressed your lips to his, but this kiss was different— it wasn't casual or sexual as it has always been. This time, it was gentle, carrying something other than desire, something precious and fragile. 
Something worth nurturing.
When you finally pulled away, he looked at you lovingly. 
“I’ll join you,” you said, the words coming from some deep part of you that had been waiting for someone to give you this chance, this choice.
Now you realised that this choice was yours all along. All you had to do was take it.
And you did, because maybe, instead of running from yourself, you could find a way to make things right. Maybe you could fight for something greater than yourself.
For the first time, wrapped in Bucky’s embrace, you believed that maybe you could be someone worth saving.
A month later, you were all gathered around a small campfire, tucked away in a quiet corner of nowhere. 
The night was cool, the fire warm, and laughter bubbled up from the group as you shared bits and pieces of each other's lives. 
“Team bonding,” John had said.
John passed around a nearly empty bag of marshmallows, Alexei poked at the fire, and Yelena and Ava exchanged eye rolls at everyone else’s antics, though they leaned closer together under the same blanket.
Eventually, the conversation drifted, as it often did, to you and Bucky. 
“So… how did the Winter Soldier and Sleeper even meet?” Yelena asked, raising an eyebrow as she threw another marshmallow into her mouth. 
The moniker you had adopted still twisted in your stomach every time you heard it, but it had lost its edge. This time, you felt in control. Like you owned it.
"I have theories,” Alexei nodded, crossing his arms, “but I have to know."
You shared a look with Bucky, a small smile creeping on both your faces. “There was a Hydra agent we were both after.” you began, biting back a frown. “And… well, I was angrier back then.” 
He placed his arm on yours, a comforting gesture.
“You wanted him alive,” you said. “I had… different ideas.”
“After that—” Bucky wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “—She was all I could think about. I kept showing up wherever she was, trying to figure her out.” 
“So basically,” John said, trying to hold back a laugh, “Bucky is a bit of a stalker.”
“A stalker?” Bucky echoed incredulously, “I think the word you’re looking for is ‘dedicated.’” 
“No, no,” Ava interjected, “you followed her everywhere did you not? ‘Stalker’ is the right word, Barnes.”
“Fine,” he admitted jokingly, “But what can I say? It was love at first sight.” 
Yelena gagged theatrically and John clutched his stomach in a fit of laughter.
Alexei just chuckled and muttered something about “American romance.” Ava made a face, disgusted but secretly amused.
You couldn’t help but laugh along with them, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. You could see him out of the corner of your eye, looking down at you with a quiet smile.
In some way, this still felt too good to be real.
For the first time, you realized you’d found exactly what you’d been missing all along. A home. Maybe even the closest thing you’ve ever had to a family.
A place where you belonged.
And you knew, looking at all of them—especially at Bucky—that this was just the beginning.
-end
764 notes · View notes
machveil · 2 days ago
Note
I can't resist the siren call
Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N
subtle foreshadowing… I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts
Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie
Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later
Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks
Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”
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CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]
Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent
he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds
he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic
when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—
he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again
532 notes · View notes
disgustingtwitches · 2 days ago
Text
@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!
You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.
“Gotta warm you up properly.”
He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 
You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.
“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”
As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 
When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 
Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.
“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 
He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.
Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 
“Ye ready?” 
Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.
“Uh-huh.”
You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 
“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 
“No, I want to.” 
Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,
“Ready.”
There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,
“Jesus…fuck…”
He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 
“Johnny.”
“Yeah, LT?”
“Ease up.” 
“Yes, Sir.” 
Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 
Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,
“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 
You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 
“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”
Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 
A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,
“Christ, LT.”
“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”
There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 
“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”
He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 
You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 
“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 
You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 
“Uh-huh,”
It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 
Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 
“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.
His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 
“You got one more in you?”
Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 
“Always.”
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talaok · 2 days ago
Text
Give up
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
Summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.
Warnings: big ass unspecified age gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie and he's nervous and he's not so very sure about this bc of how old he is + he's out of practice. smut| oral (m and f receiving) and swallowing you know what. sub!Joel vibez all around
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This wasn't anything new.
The fact that he was coming over wasn't at all surprising to either of you.
You always found a way to be around him, and no matter how he ignored your every attempt at flirting- he never said no.
It had taken all of two minutes.
You'd knocked on his door, your best little skirt and tight little top on, and faked a pout as you told him:
"There's something wrong with the shower again Mr. Miller"
To his defense, Joel really tried not to stare at your ass as you walked right in front of him to guide him to your house, but that fucking skirt seemed more of a joke than anything.
You both knew there was nothing wrong with your shower, the switch that granted the hot water had just mysteriously turned itself off once again.
This had been going on for months now, since he first arrived in Jackson... since you knocked at his door that one chilly morning to introduce yourself to your new neighbor-
All it took was one look, and you were hooked.
He was gonna be yours.
"there- 's hot" he nodded, shutting the water off once he'd made sure it worked properly again, before drying his hands on his pants.
"thank you so much Joel" you smiled wider than necessary "What can I do to thank you?"
And no, you didn't even try to make your words not sound dirty, quite the opposite actually.
He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking from yours in a nervous shift.
You always did that- had this annoying effect on him.
"'s nothing darlin'" he shook his head, "didn't even take five minutes"
"Still- I feel like I owe you," you said, biting down a smirk
Shitshitshit
"How 'bout some cake?" you suggested just as he was about to have a stroke.
"sounds good"
__ __ __
"'s real good darlin'"
"thank you" you smiled happily, watching him clear his plate in under a minute
Yeah... you were a great baker, what can I say
"you want another slice?"
"You spoil me sugar," he laughed, patting his belly "I can't"
"alright" You couldn't help but softly laugh as you placed his plate in the sink.
You caught him looking away just as you turned around, which made you smile to yourself, a smile that only widened when you noticed the chocolate on the corner of his mouth.
"Oh Joel"
"Mh?"
You sat beside him at the table, your legs brushing against one another as you leaned closer.
"You've got something... right here"
You swiped the chocolate off with your pointer finger, making a show of popping it into your mouth to clean it.
His eyes remained transfixed on you as your tongue licked your digit clean until you were finally done with a loud pop.
"Jesus"
"What?" you smirked, knowing exactly what  "that gave you some ideas?"
"babygirl-" he stopped you immediately, shaking his head
"Oh c'mon Joel" you pouted, your hand going to rest on his forearm "What's a girl gotta do to get you to give up?"
He blinked, looking at you intently and nervously altogether.
"Why do ya even care about an old man like me sweetie?"
You couldn't help but laugh "Have you ever looked in a mirror, Joel?"
You swore you saw pink flood his cheeks- the man was blushing.
"Plus you're kind... and funny when you want to.... and you make me feel-" you bit your lip, trying to find the right word "safe... you make me feel safe"
He scratched his beard, but you couldn't help but notice he hadn't used the arm your hand was still on.
"'m sure there's boys here that are funnier and kinder and make you feel even safer babygirl" he spoke gently "Pretty sure most of them are prayin' you give 'em a chance actually"
You hummed, raising a brow
"but what if I don't want them?"
"You want an old man instead?" he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.
You rolled your eyes "How old even are you?"
"old enough to be your father darlin'"
God, maybe there was something wrong with you, but those words only made your need for him burn harder.
"so?"
"so I ain't even supposed to look your way babygirl- it ain't right"
"But why?" you pouted "Shouldn't I get to have a say in what's right and wrong for me?"
He sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that.
"What if I don't care?" you spoke softly, your pointer finger on his chest, circling his pec "What if I like you, Joel? what if I wanted to show you just how much right now?"
"sweetheart" he started, shaking his head
"You'd stop me?"
And there it was, the pause... your way in.
"Joel?" you called for him, your voice sickly sweet "Would you?"
He couldn't do anything but tell the truth when you were looking at him like that.
"I don't think any man in his right mind could or would ever stop you darlin'"
Satisfaction took over your whole body.
"no?" you teased, grinning like a cat "Not even if he's old enough to be my father?"
He sighed, what looked like resignation in his eyes.
"I'm just a man sweetheart"
And that- that got him the biggest smirk ever known to man.
There was no sound, it was like the word got quiet as you stood up, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly kneeled between his legs.
He didn't know what to do, he was genuinely frozen, torn between guilt and attraction, the need to let go, to finally do this- that his brain was short-circuiting.
You took advantage of his silence, making quick work of his zipper, and pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock...
All your speculations got proven right there- he was huge.
"oh wow," you bit down a grin as you watched your fingers struggle to wrap around his whole base.
You gave him a tentative squeeze, and the strained groan rumbling from his chest was just about the hottest thing you'd ever heard.
"y-you- f-fuck"
You stopped him before he could start protesting, your tongue sliding slowly on his tip before leaving a little kiss right on top.
"You're so big" you hummed, your tongue licking him up from base to head, feeling every vein and twitch of his member.
He was looking down at you just as you looked at him, and he seemed... mesmerized, like he couldn't believe this was really happening, that this wasn't another one of the dreams he'd get about you at night, and that it was really your lips wrapping around him.
Goddamnit
You had barely a little more than his tip in your mouth and he was already gone- and I mean gone gone.
He couldn't even remember why he'd spent so long ignoring your not-so-subtle hints-
Just a minute ago he wanted to tell you that no, you don't gotta do that, and ask you sure about this? - But now... now all he could do was throw his head back as he realized that his lack of practice these past few years had really gotten to him, and that he already had to grab at the chair beneath him with all his strength as he tried not to come embarrassingly fast.
You hummed around his cock, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upwards, a small choking sound fleeing your throat.
"goddamnit, 'm sorry baby-"
But the moment he looked down at you, he saw everything but anger... you seemed happy- you were begging him to do it again with your eyes.
But he couldn't, and part of you already knew that.
He shook his head slowly, still trying to think as straight as he could given the situation, but while he was busy with that... you settled for the next best thing... you forced his manhood down your throat all on your own.
The groan he let out was damn near feral.
You couldn't actually get all of it down there, it was the biggest dick you'd ever seen in your life after all, but you swore that with a little bit of practice (that he'd hopefully grant you), you'd get there.
Still, he didn't really seem bothered or in any way disappointed by your inability.
It was an indescribable feeling seeing this tough, rugged man shiver with pleasure before you, his eyes shut and knuckles white with the effort of gripping onto something.
"I- fuck"
He didn't even know what he wanted to say, he just... it felt so fucking good
Your head was back on bobbing up and down his length, and what used to be groans had turned to moans coming out of his mouth.
"Y-you've gotta-" he swallowed, his sentence interrupted by the feeling of your fingers playing with his balls.
"Y-you've got t-" to stop
But you were choking on his girth again
"I-'m gonna-" come
You watched him struggle with his words, his breathing, and his self-control with what would have been a huge smirk on your face if your mouth hadn't been so preoccupied.
You knew he was about to come already, it really wasn't hard to understand,
You also knew that if you stopped now there was a chance you'd get to do more later- but really, this was something too perfect to leave halfway done, and besides... you feared that if you went with your initial plan of straddling his lap and riding the man to heaven, you'd leave him traumatized.
So you didn't stop, you kept massaging his balls as you worked his dick in and out your mouth, ever so often forcing him as deep as you could and choking while drool and saliva dripped down your chin.
"J-Jesus, sweetheart- I-"
All his words came out in rugged breaths, barely coherent- his eyes were back on you, shadows of lust and need darkening his iris as his right hand went to your cheek, a gesture almost too sweet considering what you were doing.
"F-fuck"
And that was it.
He groaned so loud you probably could hear him from outside the house as he reached his climax, rope after rope of his come filling your mouth and throat.
Joel Miller had come in your mouth... and it couldn't have been any more perfect.
You didn't take your eyes off him for one second. You greedily swallowed all his spent as he breathed heavily, eyes still closed.
His dick was softening in your hand as you pulled his boxers back on top of it, a little wave of disappointment washing over your gut.
It's ok, I'll see it again soon
Just as you were plotting exactly how you were gonna get in his pants in the future, his voice startled you
"I-I don't know what to say"
A soft smile pulled at your lips
"You don't have to say anything" you reassured him as you sat back on your chair, your eyes inevitably falling back to where his boxers peeked from the unfasted fly.
"now- I won't keep you hostage any longer, 'm sure you have important stuff to do back at your house"
The frowns on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows came together in confusion.
"What?"
Now you were confused.
"I'm just saying- thank you for... this" You bit down a smile "You know how long I've been wanting it- and you can bet your ass we're doing it and more, again and again, and again" his eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and you had to stifle a laugh "but... I'm letting you free for tonight"
He took his time to say something.
Silence wrapped around you for a good minute before he was able to mumble something.
"sweetheart-" he cleared his throat to try and clear his thoughts "I-I dunno how you're used to... bein' treated, but this ain't over"
A spark of excitement ignited in your belly
He couldn't mean...
"unless you want it to be, of course"
Oh my
"I definitely don't want it to be" you hastily spoke, almost breathless "but I would like to know what you... mean"
I mean, not to be prejudiced, but you very much doubted he could get it up again so quickly given his... well, age.
He cleared his throat again and you finally realized it was just a nervous tic and he didn't actually feel the need to.
"You should be on a bed" he avoided your question
You couldn't help but smile as you got up
"Such a gentleman"
"that's the last word that comes to mind right now" was all he grumbled
__ __ __
"sit"
that's all he said, and now there you were, sitting on your bed as he looked at you with a mix of lust and uncertainty.
Until he finally did it- he crouched between your legs.
He cleared his throat again, and you felt on the urge of cumbusting.
he was gonna eat you out
You'd only ever done this once, and even then you had to basically beg the guy, just for him to be god-awful at it.
Somehow you had a feeling Joel wasn't gonna be bad at all.
"You sure about this, yeah?"
You fought the urge to roll your eyes.
He could probably ask you to put it up your ass and you'd say yes.
"Yes Joel, I'm 100% positive"
He gave you a little nod, and his hands- his big, strong hands- went to your thighs.
You watched him as if he'd disappear at any moment as he slowly- oh so very slowly- took your skirt off.
He swallowed tightly as his eyes fell on your clothed cunt.
If you didn't know any better you would have guessed he was holding his breath as he got rid of your panties.
"Jesus Christ"
I shouldn't be doing this- I really shouldn't be fucking doing this.
She's not even half my age- she's a kid for god's sake- I'm fucking disgustin-
Every single thought in his mind turned to dust the moment you spread your legs- the moment your wet, drenched, pussy came fully into view.
"Y-you-"
he didn't even remember what he wanted to say- and he didn't remember when his thumb had decided to find your folds, but it had.
He heard a whimper leave your mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, hardening again.
It usually took him a whole fucking hour to get hard again
He looked up at you, and you looked hotter than ever before.
Your cheeks were flushed, your bottom lip was between your teeth, and you looked so... perfect.
"I haven't done this in a- while"
As he spoke those words he hoped you'd think he only meant this... as if you'd actually care about how he hadn't gotten laid in years.
"'s ok Joel" you nodded, smiling encouragingly.
He swallowed again, his gaze slowly lowering.
He couldn't believe you were this wet for him- a pretty thing like you.
His thumb moved, gently sliding up and up and up, until he found your clit, earning another little moan.
Fuck
He circled the little bud, and your cries got a little higher and he swore- he swore going to hell was worth it, worth this.
He had to taste you- fuck, he'd been dreaming about the taste of you since he first saw you- So with all the carefulness in the word, he bent down, his lips finding your soft thighs.
He could see your belly inflate and deflate with your exited breaths as he kissed his way closer and closer to your heat, until he was right there, and he couldn't help but leave a kiss on your mound, on the hair covering it so very nicely.
"Joel-" your voice was strangled "please"
If it had been twenty years ago he would have said something cocky like "'s ok baby, it's coming", his whole demeanor would have been very different too. He used to be in charge in the bedroom, always- he used to feel smug and sure of himself, but now... now he was old and out of practice, and he was... he was nervous.
But all it took was to look up at you, at those beautiful pleading eyes, to find the courage.
You wanted this. You wanted him.
And you tasted better than he could have ever fucking imagined.
A deep, feral groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue passed between your folds, as he gathered all your slickness on his taste buds, all that sweet sweet juice that felt like fucking heaven.
Yeah, now I remember why I used to love this so much
You were moaning like a desperate little thing above him, your thighs squeezing his face as your feet clung to his torso.
And he was gripping the outside of your legs, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible, his face as deep in your core as it would go.
His nose was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you see stars, and he was still lapping, not focusing on anywhere in particular, just aimlessly and desperately feeding off of you.
"Oh my god Joel-" you gasped as two of his fingers found their way inside of you.
His movements were slow, he didn't wanna hurt you, and he wanted to find what made you feel good, which is why he kept exploring until his digits curled up into that sweet cushy part of you, and he felt you squeeze him as you threw your head back.
"f-fuck!"
Your left hand had traveled to his locks, gripping them tightly as your hips frantically moved against his face to try and seek more.
His mouth was focusing only on your clit now, thoroughly sucking on it- and just when you thought this couldn't get any better, that this was the most pleasure you'd ever experienced and there was no way he would be able to top this- another one of his big, thick fingers pushed into you.
The cry you let out was something Joel would be thinking of until he was six feet under.
Three of his fingers were so much more than what you were used to.
"J-Joel" you whimpered actual tears staining your vision as you looked down at him "Oh my fucking g-god Joel"
Your gut had been right. He was really fucking good at this
He was watching you, studying every little face you made as the squelching of his fingers moving inside of you filled the room together with your moans.
"I-I'm coming"
You could barely finish the sentence that the world went bright, and the purest pleasure you'd ever felt erupted in your body with a million different blasts.
For a whole minute, you were in another universe- and Joel eagerly enjoyed the show, not stopping his movements for even a fraction of a second.
You feared the moment you opened your eyes you'd wake up in your bed after yet another dream about this man- and yet he was still here, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.
He couldn't help but steal another little kiss on your core before he leaned away.
"well... wow" you smiled like an idiot, your breathing still a little labored "You know what you're doing Mr. Miller"
He didn't say anything, but you saw pink flush his cheeks again as he let your legs go, robbing you of his touch.
You would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the fact he was very clearly having trouble not having his gaze fall down to your heat.
You smiled to yourself as you accepted the skirt he quietly handed you.
Seeing you standing before him with it on when he knew you were bare and wet underneath made Joel's brain freeze for a moment, but that was of course, until you stood on your tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his cheek.
"thank you for this Joel"
Your voice was so sweet it sounded angelic to his ears- but the sweetness was replaced by something very different very quickly.
As you stood back down to your normal height, your body, being flushed against Joel's, came in contact with something that very much piqued your interest.
he was hard- very fucking hard
"no babygirl"
he was already shaking his head, crushing all your dreams
"but-"
"I can't" his tone was firm, although you could still hear restraint behind his words, like it was costing him a lot to say no.
"It feels to me like you very much can" you rebutted, smirking softly.
"I- it ain't right"
Oh my god
It took a lot not to roll your eyes "I thought we were past that whole thing" you said, cocking an eyebrow "Do I need to remind you what you were doing just a minute ago?"
"that's different"
"How?"
"it just is"
"what if I beg you Joel?" you purred, your best doe eyes looking up at him "What if I told you about how much I'd like to feel your cock inside of me? How desperate I am for it, Joel- how much I need it"
He was gonna go home and punch himself in the face for what he was about to say.
But it was true, he couldn't. It wasn't right- he needed... to think about it at least
"darlin'" he spoke softly "I can't... not right now"
there it is
The smirk that pulled at your lips was the most mischievous thing in the world.
"right now" you repeated his words, biting your lip as you played with the hem of his flannel "I can live with that- but Joel...don't even think this is over"
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days ago
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How about batboys reacting to seeing their lover’s nip piercings through their shirt? like that’s the first time they’ve seen them? (i’m getting mine done soon i’m hyped)
Nipple piercings are so fucking cool dude! Funny enough I have a friend who’s got their nips pierced, all I know it’s a sensitive spot to get pierced but they look really cool. Also I now got snakebites…eating will be a little different but I’ll be okay.
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Dick is fighting for his life, gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the moment he got a little peak of your nipple piercings.
He’s trying not to groan aloud at all because nipple piercings are his weakness and of course you have to go get them and turn him with them. They look beautiful, stunning, gorgeous on you even that he can’t help but take sneak peaks now and then at your tits, hoping to catch a glimpse of the metal piercing through your shirt.
He loves your piercings, they’re his favourite things to look at in all honesty and he’ll look at them all day if he could.
‘Looking good babe!’ He’d say upon first seeing them and you couldn’t help but smile, knowing damn well that the moment you got them done that Dick would be all over you like a rash.
‘Thank you sweetie, nice to know you noticed I got them done in the first place.’ You said with a chuckle as you gestured towards your chest and feeling his eyes there immediately it was humorous.
‘I notice everything babe and I must say they’re looking gorgeous.’ Dick replied as he gazes at the metal bars through your shirt with adoration, fascination and a little bit of lust. ‘Need me to give them some aftercare?’ He adds wiggling his eyebrows playfully as you laugh. ‘As much as I would love that but these puppies are fresh and I’ve been given strict rules to follow if I want them to heal correctly.’ You tell him and see his shoulders defeat and a pout crosses his lips, he was so dramatic that even your own nipple piercings weren’t safe.
‘Fine, I’ll wait until they get better and then I’ll give them some tender loving care of my own.’ Dick promises and you didn’t doubt that for a single second, after all nipple piercings were a little weakness of his.
Tim is looking away immediately, he didn’t mean to look at all and felt as though he’s overstepping some boundaries by looking and that’s not what he wants to do.
He’ll twiddle his thumbs or play with his phone so that he doesn’t accidentally look directly at your nipple piercings through your shirt and you catch him doing so by pure coincidence. Tim seriously think he might faint if he saw pierced nipples as it was an sensitive part of your body as well as an intimate area to have done, though that doesn’t mean he won’t compliment your piercing sheepishly.
‘They look wonderful honey.’ He’d say with a flustered expression, the imagine of your pierced nipples now engraved in that photographic mind of his, which was a blessing and a curse. Poor boy just wanted to say you have nice piercings without coming across as weird or creepy for staring there at the first place, regardless of whether he was your partner or not.
‘You can look Tim, I really don’t mind.’ You tell him as you watch him internally struggle with himself and decided to end the conflict for him instead, not wanting to see him so worried like he was right now as he gripped his phone so tight you fear he’d break it.
Tim peaks at the corner of his eye to look at your piercings through your shit and he swallows thickly, a piercing shouldn’t have this much affect over him but here he was finding a simple piercing pretty and enticing. It suited you that was for certain and Tim couldn’t help but admire the way they looked beneath your shirt, it was almost like a little tease of what was there and it would be enough to send anyone mad with want.
However Tim only looked at them and admired your ability to go through with it and getting them pierced, even despite the knowledge that they’ll hurt you went through with it anyway and came out with something, ‘beautiful, they look beautiful.’
Jason may look like he’ll stare at your nipple piercings but is actually trying his hardest to not looks at them unless you want him to.
‘Jason! I got my nipples pierced! Look!’ You’d exclaim, lifting your shirt to show him the metal bars that pierced through your now erect nipples with shining pride.
‘You look gorgeous sweetheart.’ Jason would say truthfully as he gazed upon your piercings, before his mind wondered to the pain you endured to get them pierced, seeing as how nipples were notorious sensitive and piercing them only seemed to make Jason wince internally. ‘But that must’ve killed to get done chipmunk.’ He adds and you only smiled as you dropped your shirt, making sure it didn’t catch your piercings and shrug.
‘I mean yeah it did but they look came out looking fantastic don’t you think jay bird?’ You asked as you gestured towards your piercings. Jason swallowed thickly as he was quick to agree with your statement, not wanting to show just how affected he was by your pretty piercings. ‘There’s no doubt about that sweetheart, none at all.’ He says as you walked over and held his face, fingers trailing towards his pulse point that was beating faster than usual, and giggling softly.
‘It’s okay for you to look, look all you want I really don’t mind because at least someone other than myself is going to admire them and who better than my handsome partner.’ You teased as you kissed his lip before pulling away.
‘Sweetheart you’re going to kill me one of these days.’ Jason groaned as he pulled you in close while being careful with your piercings, having read somewhere that torso related piercings can take up to six moths recovering, with nipple related piercings needing a maximum of a month in fresh nursing pads. He just wants your piercings to heal without any problems or worries and so he’ll put aside his desire to get closely acquainted with them.
You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘But you love me for it.’
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loves0phelia · 3 days ago
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hi! I wanted to request a cute jj fic where they’re just being cute together and he’s overprotective (can you base it off an episode in the series?)
thanksss!
Risking
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Summery: Moments JJ risked his life to protect you.
Words: 2.8k
Warnings: near death experiences, grammar mistakes.
A/N: I'm like 100% sure this is not what you meant but this is what i came up with, thank you for requesting xxx (for anyone that requested i will do them all eventually, might just take time)
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JJ was always protective of his friends no matter what, whether it was in a fight, an argument or just a small altercation, he was ready to protect. But with you, it was quite different. He wasn't just protective, he was ready to kill to assure your safety. He followed behind you wherever you went like a personal guard. He would do anything to shield you from any harm.
The first time you noticed just how much he was committed to your protection, was during the Kegger at the beach. You and him had begun dating a couple of months prior and it was the first beach party of the summer, where kooks, pogues and torons met to have a good time.
“Hey, y/n! How are you doing?” Your head turns when you hear the call of your name. You notice  Topper, Rafe, and Kelce approaching. Their presence quickly becomes hard to ignore. They are always looking for trouble, even when there is none.
“Oh, uhm I'm good Rafe, thank you for asking” You began looking around for the familiar head of blond hair you loved combing your fingers through but only failing.
“Looking for someone?” It was now topper's time to speak up.
“Actually yes, I'm looking for JJ-”
“Yeah I don't actually care, you want a drink?” Topper smirked, a glint of arrogance in his eye; it was in no way comforting. It was malicious.
“No thanks, I'm not drinking tonight…” You slowly start backing up feeling cornered by the trio.
“Relax, we’re just being friendly. Have a drink with us. Unless, of course, you’re too good for that. But you won't deny a free drink, right, pogue?” Topper pushed and almost shoved the red plastic Solo cup filled with beer that tasted like pee in your face.
“What the fuck is going on here” Sighing in relief, A weight was lifted off your shoulder when you heard his voice coming up behind you. You turned to see JJ striding over, eyes hard and jaw clenched. His gaze flicked from you to the three boys, warning in his stare.
“There you are, we were just offering your little bitch of a girlfriend a drink, isn't that right y/n?” Topper laughed, feigning innocence. 
JJ didn’t back down, his voice low but clear. “The fuck did you just call her?.”
Topper took a step closer, his grin mocking. “I called her a bitch. What are you gonna do about it, tough guy?” He laughed and earned a slap on the back from Rafe.
Before anyone could process what was happening, JJ's fist was swinging toward Topper landing a solid punch across his jaw.
The air was thick with tension, and you instinctively took a step back—until Rafe's hand caught your arm, gripping tight.
“Let go of me!” you snapped, trying to pull free.
“Don’t. Touch. Her.” Seeing you struggle, JJ’s face darkened
JJ lunged toward Rafe as Topper troubles to stand from the sand still winded from the hit he received. Then, In a second everyone at the party began circling the fight.
Both blond boys punched and kicked around earning cheers from the crowd surrounding.
“Stop!” John B and Pope push through and quickly pull JJ off the bloodied Rafe.
“Lay a hand on her again, and you’re dead. Got it!?” He screamed at his face before getting completely pulled off.
JJ’s demeanour softened as soon as He turned to you, “Hey, you alright?” he asked, gently brushing his fingers over the red handprint on your arm.
You let out a relieved breath, meeting his concerned gaze. “I’m fine, thank you,” you whispered, slowly raising your tippy toes to press a delicate kiss on his cheek.
His hand raised to your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you away from everyone. He couldn't wait to lay in bed close to you.
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the second time you noticed was when he was ready to take a bullet for you. You and your friend hadn't expected your summer to turn into a treasure-hunting adventure but here you were with a nugget of badly melted gold in your pocket on your way to a “warehouse”.
“Is there really a warehouse out here?” Your friend, Kiara asked, confused. The route you were on only had forest and maybe a couple of cabins nearby, no place where someone could be keeping 70k in cash.
“That's what she said, hehe that's what she said” JJ smirked and you from your spot on his lap slapped his thigh and gave him a warning but playful look.
‘Shut up” Pope said unimpressed which only made JJ's smile fall into a frown.
“Sorry baby,” You said and kissed the tip of his nose and his smile was back immediately. He had already forgotten his bad joke.
“Cops? out here?” Your little make-out session was interrupted by the flashing of the red and blue lights and siren.
“Hide the gold!” All the pogues panicked and tried acting as innocent as possible, but JJ only tightened his arms across your lower stomach holding you against him.
Barry appeared, his face hidden with a skull scarf, and in his hand was a shotgun. He raised it, pointing it directly at John B. in the driver's seat. You all froze, hearts pounding.
“Why don't you get out and raise those arms in the air” Barry sneered. “Right now!”
John B stepped out of the van, hands raised high in fear.
“Come everyone get out! Let's go”  Shaking you slowly got up from your place in JJ's lap and got out of the car.
“There you go pretty girl, hurry up!” He pointed the gun in your face, the barrel touching your forehead.
“Relax bro!” JJ jumped out after you and instinctively pushed you behind him. His face was dark with anger as he screamed. Your heart jumped in your throat when the gun shifted from you to him.
“Stay back bitch!” he shouted at JJ.
“Face down in the ditch, get down on your knees” He threatened with his gun and pushed down Pope's head as you all got down in the dirt.
After a short while, Barry went into the van and went looking for the gold but as he was searching John b got up and went into his car to ambush him.
Thankfully his plan worked and as soon as John B got the gun out of his hand you all rushed to help. JJ ran and punched him in the ribs, Kie punched his face, Sarah pulled the car door on his face twice and you kicked him as hard as you could where the sun dont't shine.
Barry spat, his anger mingled with a hint of fear now. “You’re dead for this. You hear me? All of you!” You all just took what he had stolen from you and left.
Later that night in bed pressed against JJ's stomach at the chateau you thought about the situation.
“You can't jump in front of me when there's a gun involved” You whispered and JJ's rubbing movement on your back stopped.
“the hell I can't” he scoffed.
“You're gonna get hurt badly if you keep protecting me.”
“It's my job to protect you, if something happens to you I will literally die, I can't live without you” His sentence made your head shoot up.
“You mean that?”
“You're the love of my life y/n, nothing matters more to me than you.” You carefully laid your head back down on his chest where you could hear his heartbeat and hugged him tight, almost wanting to crawl into his skin.
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The third time you were out in open water, nowhere to turn, and adrenaline was coursing through your veins. Sarah had gotten kidnapped by her family and you and the rest of the pogues were on a mission to save her.
The boat pitched and swayed on the ocean. JJ and you stood side by side, backs pressed to the railing, as you faced off against Renfield, an employer of Ward Cameron. 
The man grinned wildly, holding a machete with a terrifying confidence, the blade shining menacingly in his hands. 
“JJ look out!” He lunged forward, machete raised, his eyes locked on JJ. Your heart leaped in fear, but JJ ducked, narrowly dodging the swing. The machete sliced through the air, missing by an inch.
Before he could make another move, you stepped in, launching a punch right into his nose throwing him off his balance. But he quickly got back up continuing the fight.
Before JJ could fully react, Renfield rushed forward, landing a brutal punch across his jaw. The force of the blow sent JJ stumbling backward, right up against the railing. Disoriented, he struggled to regain his balance.
His vision was blurry but he didn’t miss how The blunt end of the machete in the man's hand was making a beeline for your head.
“Y/N!” He lunged from the floor and pushed you out of the way. 
Your heart dropped to the bottom of your feet as you watched JJ topple backward receiving the hit that was initially meant for you, arms flailing as he plunged into the dark, icy water below.
“JJ!” you screamed, rushing to the side, your eyes frantically scanning the water for any sign of him. The boat rocked beneath you as you leaned over, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears.
Without a second thought, you kicked the man and jumped in after your boyfriend.
“JJ!” You swam closer and closer until you reached his floating body, you held him and hugged him close to your body, elevating his face above the water.
“Please! John B.” You felt yourself sink further as you frantically moved your legs beneath you.
“Please, JJ I can't, I can't” You choked on the water filling your mouth.
As you sank several pairs of hands grabbed onto you and JJ pulled you onto a smaller boat when you realized your friends had saved you you rushed to JJ's side, begging, and shaking his shoulder attempting to bring him back.
“Please get up!” suddenly he began coughing up water and slowly opening his eyes.
“Oh my God” You sobbed and held his face gently with your hands.
“Sup” Everyone around you erupted in laughter and you laid your forehead on his chest giggling.   “Don’t… ever do that again,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.
JJ chuckled weakly. “Can't promise anything”
You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through despite the panic that still lingered. 
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“I'm coming with you,” you argued.
“No you're not,” JJ said as he was putting his diving gear on.
“Yes, I am” You take the second wetsuit and start unzipping it.
“Hey, no” he takes it from your hands and puts it aside.
“Yes, JJ. I am going down with you whether you like it or not” Your tone hardens which took him aback, JJ rarely saw this bossy side of you, you were always soft-spoken and gentle or at least with him you were. 
After pulling on the suit and oxygen gear both you and JJ were ready to go down.
“Okay guys remember the safety stops, or else you get the bends” Pope warned and you both nodded.
The water was calm and clear. Underwater, everything was peaceful and quiet, the only sounds coming from the rhythmic hiss of your breathing through the scuba gear and the faint echo of distant waves above. It felt like a different isolated world.
He gestured to you, pointing toward a dark shape partially buried under a rocky overhang. You nodded, eyes bright under the goggles as you swam toward it, fins propelling you through the water. 
But before either of you could examine the wreckage further, a shadow passed over you, casting a sudden darkness across the sandy floor.
Just as you looked up, the unknown diver was on you. The stranger grabbed you by the shoulder, yanking you backward, forcing you to drop the small underwater flashlight you had been holding. 
“y/n!” JJ’s eyes widened as he took the spear he had brought down with him and stabbed the attacker without mercy. But that angered him. Quickly he turned and punched JJ, with his skills he swam quickly and locked JJ up in a room inside the wreck while he was disoriented, leaving you alone with the man.
“NO!” he yelled but it was muffled by the oxygen tube.
The stranger’s hands reached for you again, trying to get hold of your air tank, and when he did he cut off your oxygen supply. Your lungs burned instantly from the lack of oxygen and panic.    As soon as JJ managed his way out of the trap he was in, he shoved his regulator into your mouth, completely uncaring about his need for oxygen. He took your hand while you were taking desperate breaths and he kicked himself forward, rushing to the surface and escaping from the attacker.
As you broke through the water, you both gasped for breath and clung to each other, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 
“Are you okay!” His hands reached for your face, and you only weakly nodded.
“Talk to me please, baby” 
“I'm okay” You swam closer to him and he held you without daring to let go until John B was near.
When you finally reached the safety of the boat you and your boyfriend sat close. You were still panting, your chest heaving but as you took another breath, you felt a sudden, sharp pain twist through your chest.
"Guys, are you okay?" Kiara asked, noticing the pained expression on your face.
You tried to respond, but winced, feeling an intense, stabbing ache radiate from your joints to his abdomen. Your head spun, and you suddenly felt nauseous as though your blood had turned to acid. Panic flashed in Pope's eyes as he watched you and his best friend struggle, the realization hitting him hard. 
"They have the bends, we need to get them to the hospital" Pope and Cleo slid their arms around JJ's back lifting him up and John B. and Sarah did the same to you. 
JJ panicked at the sudden disconnection between you too, You were so close now so far apart because of your friends separating you. 
“y/n” JJ moaned as pain shot through his side.
“We're getting you both to the hospital!” pope shouted. The ride felt like thousands of hours, the pain was unbearable. 
"Almost there, guys, just hold on," Sarah encouraged, as she tried making you both take deep breaths. 
The van rattled down the dirt road, jostling you and JJ in the back as you leaned against each other, pale and clammy, both fighting the building pressure in your heads and chests. 
“go, go, go” one of your friends screamed and tore the van door open pulling you out of the car. You struggled through the hospital door and in a second you were shoved into a small, cramped hyperbaric chamber that was barely big enough to fit one person, let alone two.
After a couple of minutes of groaning, heavy breathing and twitching you both cooled down shoulders pressed against one another, his breath shallow and quick, matching your own in the tightness of the space. His fingers slid into yours sneakily.
JJ glanced over, a spark of guilt in his eyes as he shifted uncomfortably now tracing his fingers on your face. “I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from all this” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You met his gaze, his face so close you could see every freckle on his sun-kissed skin. You swallowed, trying to ignore the way his hand brushed your cheek as he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“I'm glad you didn't,” you said. JJ’s hand lingered, his fingers warm against your skin, and you felt yourself leaning in, just slightly, as though pulled by a force.
“I'm glad you didn't because if you did I wouldn't be here with you ” you whispered, unable to look away.  Before you could stop yourself, you closed the gap, kissing him with a fierceness you didn’t know you had.
JJ’s lips met yours, soft and warm, and his hands found their way to your waist, pulling closer. The hum of the machine, the aching in your muscles, even the fear — all of it fell away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in this moment.
“It’s the first and last time I ever let something happen to you, got it?” You grinned and rolled your eyes. You shifted, grabbed a pillow and quickly pushed it directly in front of the circular window before climbing on his lap pressing a deep kiss to his plumped pink lips.
Only the two of you know what happened in that chamber in the minutes that followed.
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sharoo · 2 days ago
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Self-knowledge as a theme in STP messes me up so bad, bros.
This all starts with how little the Princess can tell you if you ask her about herself. How little you can say about yourself, more often than not. Most of the time Quiet doesn't even know what they look like!
The Narrator makes it a point to make the Princess' cluelessness, her lack of self-knowledge, into deception, but really, both the protagonists don't know themselves. How could they?
The concepts of bounds, of something that isn't you, the distinction of "self" and "other", "you" and "I", the concept of something being not like yourself... this is the first time this deity which is now two has ever experienced it.
The Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet did not exist until the Narrator tore a whole into parts.
Now, this deity in twain has to reorient. It has only begun existing, it's not yet known itself. A toddler has to develop a self-concept, and the concepts of others.
Now imagine, for the first time in your solitary existence, that there is something that you are not. Unknowable, foreign.
What are they like, you think? Are they a friend? Should I get to know them? Are they a foe? I do not know them, I cannot trust them... Or can I?
This brings to mind, of all things, Contrapoints' video on Twilight, where she speaks about the concepts of Union and Division in relation to love. And while she speaks of it in terms of eros, it can apply here just as easily, romantically and platonically.
Love is the union of two beings. We love because something outside of us allows us to be more than ourself. In others, many seek that which they lack. We seek out people so that we may develop through our similarities and contrasts with them, to change an be changed.
We seek out people because there can be no I without a You. To exist in a void is not a fulfilling experience.
We cannot discover ourself if he have nothing that allows us to compare ourself. The mirrors elude us throughout the game, always leading to the princess - she is the only way we may know ourselves, the mirrors tease as they disappear. And at the end of the route, only then, can you see yourself, now that you have a complete knowledge of yourself in a given scenario, with a given persona.
Was the princess someone you decided to trust? Or to betray? Was she a foe? A friend? A nightmare? A victim?
You both try to find out who you are through your relationship.
The princess assumes many faces and attitudes in response to you, you assume voices and attitudes in response to her. You're two batches of clay shaping each other at the same time. It's almost like knowing someone your entire life, seeing them go through different phases as they try to find out their identity in the world, their place. The 5 routes, whatever they be, are your "adolescence".
And growing means you will hurt each other, intentionally or not. There will be fights, disagreements, there will be heartache, and comfort and love.
And everything will pass.
Shifty, before she's complete, before she discovers her godhood, makes this point so clear.
How could she not be kind to you? You are the only thing in this place that is not her. What reason could she have to hate you? To make the only friend she could have into an enemy?
That's why, at the end of every route, all hurts are forgiven. All the heartache is acknowledged, understood, and then she moves on. So that you may continue being together, so that she may see what else you do.
Even godhood can become a phase. The Shifting Mound recognises what you both were, but it need not be you unless you accept it. Because self-knowledge is unending. You are always changing, and you can always change.
You can accept being a god, and that becomes you.
You can reject being a god, and that becomes you.
You are by that point an "adult". The figure trying to dictate who both of you are is gone, and you can decide for yourself.
I think this is partially why I love the Leave with Stranger ending the best of all the endings. You begin it by avoiding knowledge of yourself and of another. The self can only exist as far as it is not like the others.
And you meet the Stranger, this being who knows so little about herself, because she too has been deprived of another. The route is quick. It really cannot amount to much, because if you don't know yourself, it's so hard to build a relationship.
But at the end, they've matured. You gave each other time to become fuller beings. You met this person again and they seem so much happier with themself than they were in youth.
I love how they say "We're just a stranger.", and the voices point out how it needn't be sad that you don't know her, unless you make it out to be. You can get to know them, the real them, and they can do that with you.
The way the Stranger speaks if the position of a God only underlines how much the heart of the Shifting Mound can understand self-knowledge.
They speak of how they feel themself be pulled towards taking the position of godhood, of being everything, yet find it confining. Restricting.
"We want more. We want whatever might be on the other side of this door. Something new, that we'll experience together. With someone who exists outside of us. Someone who can see us in a way we can never see ourself."
Self-knowledge through relationships and reflection on how you impact other people.
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reshinless · 1 day ago
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hi!!! i hope ur doing well>< can u do kinich with a shy s/o but get reaaally freaky in bed?
art creds: @ sumi_noth on x
warnings: p in v sex, anal penetration, afab!reader (no specified gender), consent king kinich, freaky ass reader, handcuff usage, blindfold usage, dirty talk kind of, but mostly praise, oral(?, eating you out),
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he didn't expect your interests to be... different from your actions, or at least in public. your shy grasps on his arm if ever you were anxious, or the habit of standing in front of you to intimidate
or the flushed expression that danced across your cheeks when he complimented you. it could be the arm that grasped your waist when he knew you were uncomfortable.
well, whatever it was, it was cute in its own way.
but looking at you and comparing to then—are you really the same person...? maybe you have a secret twin!
"n- nngh! kin— pleasef- I wan' it s'bad!" you whined, feeling him strike your insides for the umpteenth time. he really didn't mind but he could see how shaky your legs were.
"y'sure? you're trembling, baby." "mmn, need more, please?"
he simply tilted his head, you looked tired. he doesn't care too much about himself since his stamina sustains for very long. but yours didn't.
he swore this little thing of yours lasted a week each month. always telling him how bad you needed him with those pleading eyes. he couldn't say no, that'd be mean!
"whatever you want, sweetheart."
he'd give you the world if possible, but he cares for your safety, so he does end up not going through with your feralness in bed. no matter how cute your whining and begging might be- he doesn't want to take advantage of the fact that you want all of him more than just seven rounds.
one time you asked him to cuff you to the bed, and he asked more than just five times. you.. want him to use his elemental skill to tie you to the bed post? is that really safe?
well, he wouldn't complain too much, pulling on the vine line like a leash if he just decided on cuffing them behind you, or grasping your hair while you take him from behind.
as long as you're okay with it ('till he notices you're visibly tired). he learns to know your limits as well, no more how freaky you are. cause he isn't with you for the sake of sex, but for you yourself.
these moments with you were just a bonus. and in which he very much treasured. oh well, back to the blurb of him slamming you from behind.
he likes positions where he sees your face better. the one he usually sees hiding in the strands of your hair, or in the softness of your palms. he promises he doesn't have a corruption kink or whatever but damn he loved the way your expression would distort to something so naughty. fuck, he needed this as much as you did.
the sounds he long sought after for back when you both weren't even together yet, he didn't want to admit- but he did fantasize this. how the lewd mewls would spill like a river from the beauty and softness of your mouth.
he couldn't help but groan right into the shell of your ear. instinctively his mouth moves, to praise you of course.
"doin' s'fuckin well for me sweetheart, just keep taking me in like that yeah?"
you could feel yourself clench at the very end of his sentence. fuck you didn't know praise could feel this good, his movements matched with the quick, lusty grunts he let out.
even when he placed the blindfold onto your pretty head. he missed your pretty eyes, the way they'd look at him with a pleading look. he could barely see how your eyebrows furrowed.
that's alright, he liked how you seemed so vulnerable, not knowing where to place your hands, and you can't predict what he'd do, or where his touch would land next (which was your entrance)
placing his lips onto the soft folds, licking you up and down with tease. hearing you moan and sob, asking him to stop edging and get to the point, but he doesn't really like when you're being a little bratty.
"take what i give you, or i'll leave you like this, 'kay?"
and you couldn't do anything but nod. his cold words sent shivers down your spine, combined with the kitty licks to your clit, the coldness of his ungloved palms that spread your legs apart, squeezing them every now and then.
really loves the way you taste though, loves how addicting it can get. you're the only drug he'd ever take.
once he's done "punishing" you, he goes right back to being the sloppy eater he is. his mouth basically attached itself to your soppy entrance.
doesn't matter if you're cumming or not—he laps everything up like a homeless man who's got food for the first time in forever.
he doesn't know what it is- maybe it's the scent, or is it truly the taste? maybe it could be the way it looks? or maybe how it feels? he doesn't get why he wants your essence so bad, but whatever magic it has he hopes it'll last him lifetimes (or at least last you a good orgasm)
overall is just "whatever you want, my love" and makes sure you get the best out of it! :)
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chris-hallelujah · 2 days ago
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Have You Ever Tried This One? pt. 2 | m.s.
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Part One Here!
Warnings: foul language, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol usage
Word Count: 1.8k words
My Master List
Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzsblog @nickgurl4life
Enter my giveaway!! (closes 11/15)
Divider by: @anitalenia
A/N: Thank you all for the love on part one! I was not expecting it to get the attention it did. Thank you again @delilahsturniolo for the inspo and letting me make your idea my own. I'm sorry if it feels rushed -- I knew you all were waiting for this so I tried to hurry!!
<3 - Billie
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The lights in the arena darkened and you disappeared from the view of the crowd's view. "Goodnight Boston, I'll see you soon!" You called into the mic before handing it off to someone on stage crew. Your manager handed you a water bottle which you gladly took. Making your way back to your dressing room, she fussed over your hair and outfit.
"There are a few journalists who want to speak with you and those boys you invited backstage," she said powdering your face. You waved her off.
"I just got done with a concert, they can deal with a little bit of imperfection," you laughed walking out of your dressing room. In the lobby area backstage you saw the triplets with Chris' girlfriend standing against a wall. You waved at them to acknowledge them quickly before you had to deal with the few journalists. After about 10 minutes of interviews and answering questions, you were finally free. You sauntered over to the group with a smile. "Hi! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting! I'm Billie, it is so nice to meet you all," You exclaimed shaking each of their hands as they introduced themselves. Your hand lingered connected to Matt's for a few seconds longer than the others. He was quiet, shy as you all conversed. Chris and Nick did most of the talking. "I've seen some of your videos. You guys are hilarious," you smiled looking across all of them but then locking eyes with Matt.
"Y-you've seen our videos?" he asked surprised, earning a nod from you.
"I have and I'm really honored you all came tonight. I hope you enjoyed the show." You all chatted for a bit before your manager passed by giving you a look to wrap it up. "It was great to get to meet you all. And, Matt, if you're up for it, I'd love to chat more." You flashed him a confident smile and handed him a paper with your number on it. He took it with a shaky hand, staring at it wide eyed.
"Yea, no, that - yea sounds good," he blurt out earning a laugh from his brothers.
"You might have broke him," Nick teased.
After you all parted ways you made your way back to your hotel room. The hot shower water ran down your body as you felt your muscles relax. The plush bathrobe hugged your body as you climbed out of the shower and, as if on cue, your phone buzzed.
Hey, you put on a great show tonight. Thanks for the handcuffs. Now I just need to put them to use ;)
You're too sweet and a bit more bold when your brothers aren't around to tease you
They're a piece of work lol when can I see you again?
I'm at the four seasons room 311
Matt stared at his phone in shock. He never would have expected you to just give him the information for your hotel room. He quietly snuck out of his bedroom, not wanting to have to deal with telling Nick and Chris that he was going to see you.
You quickly freshened up, enough to look cute but not too much that you looked desperate. About 15 minutes later there was a knock at your hotel room door. Matt's face greeted you as you opened it. He was leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. You could already tell that he was a different Matt than you'd met earlier. "Hey, pretty girl," he spoke smoothly.
A slight blush crept your cheeks as you moved aside to let him in. You took in his all black outfit, noting how nice it looked on him. "Hi Matt," you smiled. Matt looked around, taking in the fancy hotel suite you were in.
"Nice place you got here. All of your tour stops this fancy?" he asked sitting down on the sofa.
You laughed a bit, "I try and make them feel like home a bit. Traveling so much can be exhausting and it's nice to come back to a hotel room that has all that I need in it." Shuffling through the mini fridge, you pulled out some wine. "You want some?" He nodded leading you to pour two glasses. You took a spot next to him on the sofa, not leaving much room between you, but enough for it to not be awkward. "So, tell me about you. What do I need to know about Matt Sturniolo?" you asked.
He took a sip of the wine before turning fully to face you, "Well, as you know I'm a triplet. I'm the middle one. We've been doing YouTube since-"
You cut him off shaking your head. "I don't want to know about your brothers. Tell me about you." This caused Matt's head to spin. He wasn't used to people only wanting to learn about him. People always loved Chris for his looks and Nick for his humor, but sometimes Matt felt swept under the rug. ((I'm crying writing this))
A smile on his face, he took a different approach, "Okay well, I really like nature. I feel so at peace when I'm outside. I also used to be really into reading. Fell outta that for a while, but I'm starting to pick it up again." The two of you chatted getting to know each other and finishing the bottle of wine quicker than either of you had planned.
It had been an hour of just drinking and talking and before you knew it your legs were draped over his lap, hands in his hair. He had his lips attached to yours as he held your hips. You weren't quite sure how you got there, but you weren't complaining. Matt pulled away slightly, earning a whine from you. Both of you breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against yours. "You sure about this, miss popstar?" he said, teasing you slightly. You giggled and nodded, placing your lips on his neck. He groaned, tilting his head back to give you more access. You trailed down his jawline, then his neck, and to his collarbone leaving bites and kisses in your path. A flash of pink covered your eyes as Matt tugged your shirt off over your head and tossed it to meet his on the floor. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. Something caught your eye, peeking out of his back pocket. Something pink. With fur? Oh my god.
A chuckle escaped your lips as you tugged the fuzzy pink handcuffs you had gifted him at the concert out of his back pocket. "I see you wanted to break in your gift," you smirked, twirling them on your finger. He chuckled snatching them from you and tossing them to the side.
"Don't worry, pretty girl, they'll get used soon," he winked. His pants hit the floor and your eyes trailed down his body. Before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees in front of him. "Such a good girl. Didn't even have to tell you," he smirked. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. Your hand wrapped around his length causing him to hiss slightly. As your lips enclosed around his tip, his hand found home in your hair. Your tongue swirled around him slowly before you closed the distance between your lips and his groin. He groaned loudly as you took him in deeper. Impulsively, his hand pushed your head further, causing a choking noise to leave you. "Shhh, you got it, princess. Doin' - ah - doing so well," he moaned as your head bobbed. As you moved your head back and forth, your hand covered what didn't fit in your mouth. It did not take long for Matt's hand to coerce you a bit more forcefully as you noticed his body tense up. "Oh fuck, keep goin," he moaned. A few more pumps later you felt his load shoot into your mouth as he groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. You pulled off of him with a slight 'pop' and sat with a satisfied grin on your face. He let out a deep breath before looking down at you.
Next thing you knew, your back hit the mattress and Matt hovered over you. "Better wipe that smirk off that pretty little face," he chuckled. To your right you heard the sound of metal clinking. Matt's hand gathered your small wrist and cuffed you to the bed. You looked up at the handcuffs and back at him whimpering slightly. Your arms wiggled causing the metal to clank against the headboard. "What? Can't handle what you dish out?" he smirked and trailed kisses down your torso. When he reached your underwear, his eyes met yours again for approval. As you nodded, he discarded your thong onto the floor. Your hips twitched in anticipation as you felt his breath on your core. The wide grin on his face was undeniable as he watched you already writhing beneath him. "So sensitive," he chuckled tracing circles on your thigh, "barely even touched you yet."
"Matty, please," you whined. He ended your suffering licking a stripe up your folds. Your hips lifted at the contact and you gasped loudly. He quickly shoved your hips back down to the bed and held them there with his hands, probably leaving bruises that would show tomorrow. Matt explored you with his tongue, taking note on what made your legs shake. As his tongue circled your clit, he felt your hips try to raise against his hands. "Oh! Matt fuck" you moaned loudly. He smiled against you knowing he figured out your weakness. He continued to work your bundle of nerves until you were a writhing, moaning mess underneath him. The noise of the handcuffs fighting the headboard earned a laugh from Matt's mouth that vibrated against you. Your body tensed as your climax built up. He slipped a finger into you, thrusting quickly as his tongue danced against your clit. You felt pleasure take over your body. "Matt - my god! Don't stop!" you cried out. He continued to ride out your orgasm until your body relaxed and you panted against the bed. He carefully removed his fingers from you and crawled up to meet your eyes. Your lips wrapped around his fingers, tasting yourself as you licked them clean. He removed his fingers from your mouth and unlocked the handcuffs.
A soft kiss landed on your forehead as he pulled his t shirt over your head. You smiled climbing under the covers. Pulling his boxers back on before he climbed into bed with you. The night was spent wrapped in each others' arms.
The morning light showed through the curtains as you woke. After cuddling up to Matt for a few more minutes, you reached for your phone. Your eyes widened as you saw messages from your manager. Attached was an article titled, "YouTube Triplet Seen at Pop Star's Hotel." You knew this was not going to end well with your publicity team but, boy, was it worth it.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 3 days ago
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In the world of heavy metals, love is denser than hate!
#Poorly drawn SVSSS#SVSSS#luo bingge#luo binghe#ask#Is that right? Two different character tags? I think that is right.#I'm calling myself out with screenshotting the asks with the dates because my full ask box has become a problem I'm determined to solve.#I promise you that if I did not respond to your ask it was because I 1) *really* wanted to hold on to it to make a doodle reply#or 2) really was so touched by the message and got overwhelmed#So expect many year + old asks suddenly gaining a reappearance! I'm going to get to them ALL.#Back to Luo Binghe (both versions). You see...the substance he is made with has a chemical reaction to affection.#Like how a pokemon has multiple paths to evolution depending on it's friendship points or exposure to random stones#so to does he evolve into various forms. I feel like Bingge (Ht) would be a noble gas. Unable to form bonds#I could also see him as a Halogen-type of element! Highly reactive and only truly found in manufactured environments.#And Binghe (Lv) would be an alkaline earth metal (+2). Sturdy. Forms bond better but not freely giving them away.#this is the second time I've related characters to elements - and I am far less familar with Scum Villian so please feel free to chime in.#I could be way off base here and I am very down for someone to talk chemistry and character themes.#Thank you all for the love you have given my silly little LBH. It means a lot to me B*)#Don't...don't look too hard at the lack of mark on his forehead here. I gave up. It's just...hidden behind his bangs.
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fancyfeathers · 2 days ago
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Awwww Damian listening in on the his step mom reading to her daughter is so sweet! Considering his childhood😅 Oh Man! If Talia did meet the new wife, she wouldn’t obviously be threatened considering who she is. However, I can see her thinking of Bruce wanting a pet lol.
Idea! If the daughter darling wants to marry once they are older but Damian “tests” them like any good brother.
“None of these men are qualified sister, they are too weak.”
Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist
“None of these men are qualified sister, they are too weak.”
“…Damian… you were raised by assassins.”
“So?”
“Most people do not act well to being stabbed.”
“I rest my case.”
Damian would definitely do something like that if it wasn’t for all the men who were interested in her already being scared away by her other brothers. Why would she need anyone else in her life? She has her big brothers to look after her, just don’t grow up and stay little.
He does think his sister is weak but at the same time he is glad she is because he gets to protect her. When he sees his stepmother reading to her and listens in he could not help but think how vulnerable they both were in that moment with their guards down but at the same time they looked happy together and he felt happy because of that.
But then when Talia comes around one day and she sees the two darlings she would genuinely think that of Mother!Darling. In her eyes she is like a cat with her kitten who will hiss and scratch to protect her baby but in the end that cat cannot do actual damage to keep anyone away so eventually they are collared and are nothing more than house pets. Sure they may be married but they are not equals and that imbalance of power is clear as day to anyone with eyes. Though she does acknowledge the role she’s filled in Damian’s life as a mother figure, honestly it would be hard to ignore the fact that when he saw her he asked Talia if it was okay to call his stepmother mom, that is what his sister calls her and he already calls Talia mother and then everyone calls her something along those lines so it would be weird to continue to call her by her first name. Talia sees nothing wrong with his request especially given his fondness for Bruce’s house cats, after all Damian has always liked animals.
Though things are a bit different with his sister, she is indeed his sister by blood and was not fortunate enough to have been raised knowing how to defend herself properly against those who try to harm her. In a way I think she grows rather fond of Damian’s little sister, it is good that her son is able to find comfort with someone and let his guard down, having a strong one-sided bond with his own flesh and blood.
Say if something happened that split up their little family, Talia may find it heart to take her in since Damian is so fond of her and it is far to cruel to separate them now that Damian has decided a part of his own life to protecting her.
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cutelikeharry · 1 day ago
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After Credits. Janitor Levi Ackerman x Fem Reader Smut, 18+
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Summary: Every Friday night, she escapes the stress of her senior year of college by unwinding at the movies. There, she meets Levi, an attractive janitor who isn’t happy with her habit of staying after the credits roll. But after an argument, their tension snaps, and she discovers that cleaning isn’t the only thing he’s good at.
☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ ⋆。゚☁︎
She had found herself at the cinema again. As a senior in uni, the stress of her final year was overwhelming, and Friday nights had become her personal tradition, the one time she could disconnect from the pressures of university life. It was her thing. Taking a break from her hectic schedule to enjoy the quiet solitude that only a cinema could offer. As an undergrad, she didn’t have much time to go out, but movies… movies were her escape.
She had started visiting the local cinema more often, choosing films based on what seemed interesting at the time, usually romance. She usually took the very last showings of the night, when the cinema was emptier and the darkened theater felt like her own little world.
Tonight was no different. She’d picked a romantic movie, nothing too special, but it had kept her entertained. The movie ended, the credits rolled, and the theater started emptying. People got up and left, chatting with friends or heading out, but she stayed in her seat, like always.
She had a habit of waiting until the very end. Some movies, especially the ones that were a little more mainstream, sometimes had extra scenes after the credits. She didn’t want to miss that, so she stayed seated, finishing off the last of her popcorn and waiting for any hidden surprises.
When the last of the people walked out, the theater went quiet. She looked around at the empty seats, then turned back to the screen. The soundtrack music from the movie, as the credits rolled, was the only sound. She was alone now, but she didn’t mind. This was her moment of peace.
That’s when she saw him.
A familiar figure appeared at the theater entrance. A man in his thirties carrying a broom, with a cart full of cleaning supplies beside him.
She knew him by now, if only in passing. She’d always be the last to leave, lingering for after-credit scenes, and he was always the one waiting, clearly annoyed by her habit. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes landing on her before he rolled them with his usual annoyance. 
She was caught off guard but didn’t let it show. She just kept eating her popcorn, ignoring him as he started sweeping up the mess from the theater. He went around picking up trash, moving up the rows. 
She had seen him before, but she never paid much attention to him until now. She noticed he was... attractive. His sharp features, the dark hair swept up in an undercut that looked a little too stylish for a janitor, and the slight shadow of dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t gotten much sleep in a while. 
Well, then again, it was past midnight, and he still had to clean up everyone’s mess, so it was understandable.
The light blue uniform stretched over his toned arms, his muscles flexing with each motion. His hands looked strong, veins visible, and she found herself watching him longer than she meant to.
He finished sweeping the lower rows and then headed up the aisle, skipping past a few rows before stopping directly at hers. She stayed seated, but she felt his presence as he walked toward her, stopping right next to her. She looked up at him, confused, wondering what he wanted.  
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to ignore him, but it was hard. His eyes remained on her. Her attention instinctively darted back towards the screen, trying to focus on the credits, but every time she glanced back, she found his eyes still fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. She didn’t know what he wanted. Had she done something wrong?
Her eyes caught a small card hanging from around his neck. ‘A name tag’, she realized.
‘Levi Ackerman.’
“You’re still here?” Levi asked, clearly annoyed. His voice was low, a little tired.
She blinked, unsure how to respond to his comment. “Yeah… I’m waiting for the after-credits.”
He glanced shortly at the rolling credits, then back at her, his expression flat. "It's a romance movie. They don't do after-credits for this kind of thing."
She raised an eyebrow as she kept eating her popcorn. “You don’t know that. Maybe they do. Maybe there’s a surprise.”
Levi rolled his eyes before once again glancing at the screen. The credits were almost finished, the final names scrolling by, and she held her breath, hoping for more. But there was nothing. The screen turned off completely.
Her face dropped slightly, feeling a bit disappointed. She had been hoping for something, even though she knew deep down it was unlikely.
“See? No after-credits. Now, get out.”
She frowned, standing up, her hand gripping the bucket of popcorn a little tighter. “Hey, no need to be rude. I just wanted to see if there was something left. After-credits can be just as important as the movie, you know?”
Levi's expression didn’t soften. “You know, it’s Friday night, right? Most people go out and hang out with friends. Not sit here alone waiting for the credits to end.”
She felt her irritation rising. She wasn’t sure why he was being so condescending, but it was getting under her skin. “Maybe I like the quiet,” she shot back.
Levi didn’t seem to care much. He just gave a small shrug. “Whatever. Just take your popcorn and leave. I’ve got another theater to deal with before I can leave.”
She clenched her jaw, annoyed by the way he dismissed her. She didn’t want to leave just because he told her to, but what could she do? She was already standing.
She took the popcorn bucket and walked down the stairs, heading for the exit. Before she left, she turned to glance back at him. He was already back to cleaning, his broom moving over the floor, barely paying her any mind.
She stormed out of the theater, fists tight. His attitude pissed her off. He was a total jerk. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about his stupidly handsome face.
As the week went on and she attended her lectures, she couldn't shake him from her thoughts. She was angry with herself for not speaking up when he made those rude remarks, but she couldn't deny the way his light blue uniform clung to his muscular frame as he swept the theater. Her mind kept replaying images of him, making it impossible for her to concentrate on the lecture in front of her.
‘He's not even that good looking.’ she repeated, trying to convince herself that he was just another ordinary guy. But that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Every time she tried to brush it off, something about him kept pulling her back. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but it lingered in her mind, pulling her in despite her best efforts to ignore it.
‘Focus. You’re here to learn, not fantasize about some janitor.’ She’d shake her head, but still, the image of him would linger. She’d catch herself daydreaming, completely losing track of the professor’s words as she pictured him. 
Levi Ackerman, his name still fresh in her mind. 
By the time the next Friday rolled around, she had already decided it was time to escape again. 
Her weekly trip to the cinema had become a need. The place where she could leave her distractions behind. 
As she walked up to the ticket counter, she glanced at the list of movies showing. She’d seen them all except for one. 
It was a romance movie, but not like the ones she usually went for. This one had a big, bold "18+" slapped on it. She’d heard the rumors about this movie. Mostly graphic, erotic scenes. 
She hesitated, unsure. She wasn’t typically into movies that were this explicit, but something about the idea of watching it nagged at her. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe she was just looking for something different.
She shrugged, deciding to buy a ticket anyway. ‘One time won’t hurt,’ she thought, not really believing the excuse herself. She bought her popcorn and drink, then made her way towards the theater.
The theater was half empty as usual, and she picked her usual seat in the back row. She preferred it there. The middle rows were always too crowded, and the back gave her the space to settle in without distractions. She popped some popcorn into her mouth and sat down, waiting for the commercials to finish and the movie to start.
The movie wasn’t anything special at first. Just a young couple falling in love, the kind of story that was predictable, but still heartwarming. But as the film went on, it started pushing past what she’d expected, with scenes that felt... different. Graphic. Intimate. 
Her face heated up at certain moments. Scenes that felt way too graphic to be on the big screen. She shifted in her seat, trying to keep her focus on the screen, but it was hard. The scenes were almost uncomfortable to watch, not because they were poorly done, but because they felt too real. 
She didn’t know if she was more embarrassed by what was happening on screen or the fact that she was watching it by herself.
She couldn’t help but wonder. Would that Levi guy ever watch a movie like this? The thought made her stomach twist. It was strange, but she couldn’t shake the image of him in her mind, now mixing with the images on the screen. ‘God! What am I thinking?’ she scolded herself, trying to shake off the thoughts that were slowly creeping in.
As soon as the movie ended, she made a quick decision. She wasn’t about to stick around for another awkward run-in with Levi. She didn’t need to hear his comments about her watching that type of movie by herself on a Friday night. 
Her face was still flushed from the scenes she’d just watched, and the last thing she needed was him making some comment about her choice in media. Besides, she was almost sure there would be no after-credit scenes in this one.
As the credits rolled and the lights turned back on, people started gathering their things and heading towards the exits. She quickly stood up, grabbed her popcorn and drink, and without looking back, hurried down, weaving through the small crowd and skipping a few steps as she went.
Pushing open the door, she stepped into the hallway, her pace quickening as she made her way towards the exit. But as she rounded a corner, her elbow brushed against someone, and in an instant, her drink spilled across her white t-shirt. She cursed under her breath as the cold liquid soaked through the fabric, splashing onto the floor and sending popcorn tumbling everywhere.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry!” she blurted out, rushing to pick up the fallen paper cup and popcorn bucket. The mess was overwhelming. Most of the drink had already soaked into her shirt, leaving her feeling embarrassed as she frantically tried to clean up.
And then, she looked up. Standing there, watching her, was Levi.
She froze. She was still kneeling on the floor, her cheeks burning. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected to run into him again. Let alone like this. He looked a little taken aback, his expression unreadable, as he took in the scene. She could feel her face heating up even more, but she didn’t say anything. Her mouth felt dry, and she could feel the awkwardness wrapping around her, suffocating her.
As she stood up, she noticed Levi’s eyes flicker downward for a split second, widening just slightly before he looked away. It was subtle, but she caught it.
Then she realized why. The spilled drink had soaked through her shirt, and under the bright lights, her white t-shirt had turned slightly see-through, leaving little to the imagination. 
Her stomach dropped, and her face flushed intensely. She quickly pulled her jacket closed, covering herself as best she could. 
“I—I’ll just—uh, sorry,” she mumbled before she quickly turned and headed towards the bathroom. 
The bathroom was empty, as expected for this time at night. The cinema was practically deserted by now. She took her jacket off, then pulled off her shirt, trying not to think about the mess she’d just caused, leaving her in just her bra. 
She leaned over the sink, trying to scrub away the large stain from the spilled drink. The water splashed around, but the stain didn’t seem to want to go anywhere. 
She glanced up, her eyes landing on a small vending machine inside the bathroom, stocked with painkillers, tampons, and condoms. She raised an eyebrow, wondering to herself, ‘Do people actually do it in here?’
As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t ignore the redness in her cheeks. Her face was still burning, and she found herself thinking about what had just happened.
‘He probably has to clean it up,’ she thought, her stomach twisting. He was probably furious. She felt guilty, even though she knew it was an accident. 
But then, her thoughts shifted once again. ‘Why the hell do I keep thinking about him?!’ she thought frustrated, trying to focus on getting the stain out of her shirt.
Her breath caught as the thought of him mixed with scenes from the movie she’d just watched. It felt like everything was colliding all at once. The way he looked at her, and the intimate scenes she’d just seen on screen. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as her mind wandered, the images of Levi and the movie blending together in her thoughts, with herself somehow caught in the middle.
‘Gosh. What’s wrong with you?’ she scolded herself, gripping the edge of the sink.
The heat between her legs grew more intense as she imagined him standing over her, his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her close. She pictured the sensation of his lips against her neck, sending shivers down her spine, and his hand slipping under her shirt. She couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have him inside of her, his thick cock pushing deep inside of her.
Her breath quickened as her fingers instinctively brushed against the dampness of her panties beneath her skirt. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she gently rubbed herself through the thin fabric, her mind still filled with thoughts of Levi. She could almost feel his touch against her body. Her fingers moved in slow circles, sending waves of pleasure through her core.
She leaned against the bathroom counter, her legs trembling slightly as she continued to touch herself. Her free hand gripped the edge of the sink tightly as she increased the pressure and speed of her movements. Soft whimpers echoed in the empty bathroom as she neared her peak.
Suddenly, the sound of voices in the hallway snapped her back to reality. Her eyes flew open as she yanked her hand away, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. What was she doing? This was a public bathroom in a movie theater!
She shook her head, trying to bring herself back to reality. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would help clear her mind and wash away the lingering embarrassment and confusion. 
After scrubbing the last traces of the drink out of her shirt, she wrung the fabric out as best as she could. The shirt was still damp and a little cold against her skin as she put it back on, but at least it was clean. 
She slipped on her jacket and took one last look in the mirror, noticing that while her face was still flushed, but it was nowhere near the tomato-red shade it had been moments before.
She took a deep breath and opened the door of the bathroom, peeking out and glancing around to make sure Levi wasn’t lurking nearby.
Relieved to find the hallway empty, she slipped out and headed towards the exit, hoping to put this entire night behind her. But as she neared the main lobby, she slipped her hand into her jacket pocket, only to feel nothing. 
Her phone wasn’t there.
She froze mid-step, her eyes widening as she patted down her other pockets, searching. But it was no use. A sinking feeling hit her as she realized she must have left it back in the theater.
She sighed sharply as she retraced her steps in her mind. Of all nights, why tonight? She brushed her hands over her jacket one last time, then took a deep breath, accepting she’d have to go back and get it. 
Swallowing her frustration, she turned around and began the walk back towards the theater room, hoping she could just grab her phone, and get out without another awkward encounter.
She slipped back into the theater, relieved to find it empty. No Levi. Perfect. She hurried up the stairs, heading straight to her seat at the top row, scanning the floor as she approached. 
She leaned down, checking under the seat, then behind it, but her phone was nowhere to be found. Frustration started to bubble up just as she heard a voice from below.
“Forgot something?”
She froze, the annoyance hitting her instantly as she recognized that voice. With a sigh, she squinted in irritation and slowly turned around, spotting Levi at the bottom row, holding up her phone between his fingers. 
He didn’t even seem annoyed that he’d probably had to clean up her mess just a few minutes ago. He just stood there, as deadpan as ever.
She exhaled sharply, walking down the stairs to meet him. Levi watched her approach, and just as she was close enough, he tossed her phone up. 
She caught it with ease, pressing her lips together in a tight, annoyed smile as she raised her eyebrows, holding up the phone in acknowledgment. “Thanks,” she said, turning quickly to leave, hoping this would be the end of it.
But of course, Levi couldn’t resist.
“Interesting choice of film for a Friday night,” he commented dryly.
She stopped in her tracks. Really? She turned back around, rolling her eyes slightly as she tried to think of a response. 
“There’s nothing wrong with a girl enjoying… you know… erotica,” she replied, her voice coming out a bit more awkwardly than intended. 
She mentally cringed, hating that he was making her explain herself.
“If you say so.” He said unimpressed. "Must be desperate for excitement if that’s what you’re doing by yourself on a Friday night."
Her cheeks burned, but she wasn’t about to let him have the last word this time. “Not everyone watches these movies just for the scenes, you know,” she added defiantly, raising an eyebrow.
Levi paused, then looked at her with a skeptical tilt of his head, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, please. You’re not about to tell me you watched this movie for the plot.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe I did,” she said, though her voice wavered a little, clearly not convincing him.
He scoffed, stepping a bit closer. “Sure. Bet you were on the edge of your seat, real invested in their deep, meaningful conversations, right?”
Her mouth opened, then shut again as she struggled for a comeback. “Some of us appreciate storytelling,” she stuttered with as much dignity as she could muster, though the faint smirk in his eyes told her he wasn’t buying a word of it.
“Right,” he replied, deadpan. “Nothing says quality storytelling like an R-rated romance movie.”
She clenched her jaw slightly, both embarrassed and annoyed. “I just wanted to experiment with something new,” she replied, crossing her arms defensively.
“Could always try meeting real people for that.” He turned away, picking up his broom to continue his work, leaving her feeling even more flustered. 
She held her ground, arms crossed, eyeing him with a smirk that dared him to react. “Says the guy who probably hasn’t even been with a woman before.”
Levi paused mid-sweep, a faint chuckle escaping as he glanced at her over his shoulder. But he didn’t get defensive. He looked almost amused. “If that’s what you think,” he replied, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he returned to his work.
She raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she crossed her arms a bit tighter. ‘Oh,’ she thought, her heart beating a little faster. 
Most men would get flustered or defensive at comments like that, but him? He just looked back at her, calm and unfazed. Somehow, his confidence only made him more attractive.
She took a step closer, unable to stop herself. She found herself drawn in by the tension building between them. “Really?" she challenged again playfully. “And just how many women have you been with, Mr. Janitor?”
Levi turned fully towards her. His eyes swept over her from head to toe, lingering just a bit longer than necessary before replying, making her pulse quicken.
He set the broom aside and leaned casually against the wall. "Enough to know what I'm doing," he said. 
Her pulse quickened, but she refused to back down. She held his stare, stepping even closer. "Is that so?" she murmured. 
Levi smirked, noticing how close she stood as he looked at her, her cleavage pressing against his chest. His eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What? You don’t believe me?”
Her heart raced as she met his eyes, a teasing smile pulling at her lips. Her breath quickened, but her eyes remained teasing. She stepped a fraction closer, her fingers sliding slowly up the back of his neck, her fingers into his undercut. She leaned closer, pulling him in just a little, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Maybe I need some…proof.” 
Levi’s hand shot out before she could react, his fingers threading through the back of her hair with a harsh grip, yanking her head back. The sudden force caught her off guard, and before she could protest, his lips crashed against hers. Rough, urgent, and without hesitation. 
Levi’s other hand gripped her waist as he pulled her closer, his hold tightening. His fingers dug deeper into her hair, pulling her even further into the kiss, the pressure making her breath catch in her throat.
“You want proof?” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough. “You’re getting more than that.”
Her pulse quickened as her surroundings came rushing back. She glanced around, remembering they were in a movie theater. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face as she pulled back slightly, just enough to catch her breath.
“What if someone sees us?” she whispered, the thrill of the moment mixing with the risk, making her heart pound harder.
Levi closed the space between them again, his mouth brushing hers as he spoke, “No one will. The place’s closed by now. They lock up after the last show,” he murmured. 
Levi's hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly. His lips trailed hot kisses along her jawline and down her neck, earning a soft moan from her. 
Without warning, Levi's hands moved lower, squeezing her ass possessively. She gasped at the bold move, her body tensing briefly before melting into his touch. His strong fingers kneaded the soft flesh, pulling her even closer against him. 
Levi lifted her right leg, hooking it around his waist. The new position pressed their bodies together intimately, and her breath caught as she felt the hard bulge throbbing against her center. Even through layers of clothing, the heat radiating between them was intense. Her breath hitched as Levi ground his hips against her, the friction sending pleasure through her core. His hands gripped her other thigh, lifting her up and pressing her back against the wall. 
Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he pinned her there. His mouth found her neck again. He sucked gently on her skin before trailing open-mouthed kisses down to her collarbone. She tilted her head back, giving him better access as soft moans escaped her lips.
“Levi…,” she moaned.
Levi's hands slid under her jacket, his calloused fingers tracing gentle patterns on the bare skin of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. In one swift motion, he slipped the jacket off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
She shivered, her heart racing as she felt his warm breath against her skin. She couldn’t believe how much she wanted him, how much she needed him. “I want you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 
Levi’s smirk lingered as he slowly lowered her back down to the floor, his hands steady on her waist. His breath was hot against her lips before he leaned in again, capturing her mouth in a deeper, more possessive kiss. His tongue brushed softly against hers, drawing her in until she melted against him, her fingers curling into his shirt as the intensity between them grew.
She pulled away from the kiss, her heart racing as she looked up at him. Without a word, she slowly sank to her knees in front of him, her fingers trailing down his chest and abdomen as she went. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, the tension in his muscles as her hands explored.
She reached for his belt. The metal felt cold against her skin as she struggled to unfasten it, overcome with excitement. After a few moments, she finally managed to undo it, the sound of metal clinking.
Her breath quickened as she tugged at his zipper, pulling it down quickly. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, her knuckles brushing against his lower abdomen before she slowly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his hard cock. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the sight of him, thick and fully erect. She glanced up at him through her lashes, her cheeks flushed. 
Levi's hand tangled in her hair, guiding her closer. She parted her lips, her tongue teasingly darting out to lick the tip. She heard Levi's sharp intake of breath and felt emboldened. Slowly, she took him into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the head as she began to bob up and down his erection.
Levi groaned softly, his fingers tightening in her hair. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath. 
She hollowed her cheeks, taking him deeper. She could feel him hitting the back of her throat as she moved, her tongue swirling around him. Levi's grip on her hair tightened, guiding her movements.
"That's it," he murmured with desire. "Take it all."
She looked up at him through her lashes, her eyes watering slightly. The sight of her lips wrapped around him, her eyes locked on his, sent a jolt of pleasure through Levi's body. He thrust his hips forward, pushing himself further into her mouth.
Her hands gripped his thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath her fingers. She quickened her pace, her head bobbing faster as she sucked him harder.
Levi's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he neared his peak. "I'm close," he warned, his voice strained.
She locked eyes with him, maintaining eye contact as she took him as deep as she could. Her throat relaxed, allowing him to slide further in. She swallowed around him, the muscles of her throat contracting.
Levi groaned deeply, his hips jerking forward. "Fuck, I'm gonna—" 
He didn’t finish his sentence before she felt his hand on the back of her head, drawing her closer. The warm liquid hit the back of her throat. She swallowed quickly, her eyes watering slightly as she took everything he gave her. 
As the last pulses lingered, Levi gently pulled out of her mouth. He looked down at her, wiping away the bit of saliva spilling from her mouth with his thumb. 
Levi pulled her to her feet, his eyes roaming over her flushed face. Without warning, he spun her around and pushed her against the wall. His hands slid up her thighs, bunching her skirt around her waist. 
"Spread your legs," he commanded.
She obeyed, her heart pounding. Levi's fingers traced teasing patterns along her inner thighs, inching higher but not quite touching where she desperately wanted him.
"Please," she whimpered, pressing her hips back against him.
Levi chuckled darkly. "Patience," he murmured, nipping at her earlobe. His fingers finally slipped through her damp panties, sliding between her folds.
She gasped as he began stroking her, his fingers circling her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance.
"So wet already," Levi murmured in her ear. "Is this what you wanted when you came to watch that movie? To be touched like this?"
She could only whimper in response as Levi slid two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that perfect spot. Her hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more friction.
Levi's other hand slid up to cup her breast through her shirt, beneath her bra, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. She arched into his touch, soft moans escaping her lips.
His fingers pumped in and out of her at a steady pace, his thumb circling her clit. The sensation had her trembling against him, her legs shaking as the pleasure built within her core.
Her breath came in ragged gasps as Levi continued to work his fingers inside her. Levi's breath was hot against her neck, his chest pressed firmly against her back as he held her in place.
With a low groan, Levi slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving her whimpering at the loss. But before she could protest, he spun her around to face him, crashing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed herself against him. Levi's hands roamed her body, one tangling in her hair while the other gripped her hip. His tongue swept into her mouth as their kiss deepened. 
Levi forcefully pulled her closer, their tongues tangled in a heated kiss. He pushed her onto one of the front-row seats, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he knelt before her, making sure she couldn't escape his grasp as their lips remained locked in passion.
His hand slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her spine as they traveled upward. She shivered, her breath hitching as he found her bra strap, his fingers pausing just briefly before unhooking it with ease. She slid the bra straps down her shoulders and tugged it free, tossing it to the floor beside them. 
Levi pulled back, his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, lifting it slowly. The fabric bunched and gathered, rising up just enough to reveal her bare chest, but he stopped before taking it off completely. He paused briefly, admiring the sight before him, and then lowered his head to take one of her nipples between his lips, his tongue gently sucking and circling around it.
Levi’s other hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties under her skirt. He glanced up at her, a silent question in his eyes. She nodded, breath quickening. With a slight smile, he eased her panties down, sliding them off before spreading her legs open, revealing her pussy to him.
Her heavy breathing filled the air as she felt the cool air brush against her sensitive skin. Levi looked up at her, his eyes filled with lust. He leaned in, his warm breath tickling her skin as he kissed her inner thigh. She shivered, her body trembling with anticipation. She could feel his tongue tracing a line up her thigh, closer and closer to her entrance. Her breathing got heavier, her fingers gripping the seat as she felt his tongue brush against her.
His hands gripped her thighs, holding her open as he explored her folds with his tongue. She gasped as Levi's tongue flicked against her clit. He started slow, teasing licks that had her squirming.
"Oh god—," she moaned, her head falling back against the seat.
Levi's tongue circled her clit before dipping lower to tease her entrance. He lapped at her wetness, savoring her taste as her hips bucked against his face. 
Her fingers tangled in Levi's hair, tugging lightly as pleasure coursed through her. He groaned against her, the vibrations sending sparks through her core. His tongue plunged inside her, fucking her as his nose rubbed against her clit.
"Ah, Levi," she gasped, her hips grinding against his face as waves of pleasure washed over her. His tongue worked expertly, alternating between long, slow licks and quick flicks against her most sensitive spots.
Levi's body tensed as he watched her gentle whimpers turn into desperate moans. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, and his own arousal was hard to ignore. With each movement and breath, she stirred something within him. His cock throbbed in response, and he struggled to resist the urge to take her right then and there.
Her thighs began to tremble as she felt the tension building within her. Levi sensed her approaching climax and increased his efforts, his tongue circling her clit faster as he slid two fingers inside her. He curled them upwards, stroking that perfect spot inside her as his mouth continued to work on her clit. 
"Oh god, I'm gonna—" she cried out, her back arching as her orgasm hit her hard. Her body shook with the intensity of it, waves of pleasure radiating outwards from her core. Levi didn't let up, his fingers and tongue working her through every aftershock until she collapsed. 
Her body trembled as the waves of pleasure slowly went down. Levi pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked up at her with dark, hungry eyes. She was still catching her breath, eyes closed, chest rising and falling, when he stood and sat down in the seat beside her.
The distinct sound of a wrapper caught her attention, snapping her eyes open. She turned to see Levi pulling out a condom. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it onto his already erect cock. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through her as she desperately tried to ignore the thought of him using this same routine with other girls at the movies.
She gasped, caught off guard as Levi suddenly lifted her and pulled her towards him, his hands firm on her waist. In one fluid, swift motion, he had her straddling his lap, her knees resting on either side of his legs, and her chest pressed close against his, her arms instinctively finding their way to the top of his shoulders. The unexpected intimacy left her breathless, her heart pounding as she met his intense stare. 
"You sure about this?" Levi asked. 
She nodded eagerly as she felt the head of his cock brush against her wet entrance, teasing her. "Yes, please," she breathed.
She gasped as Levi slowly guided her hips down, his thick cock stretching her as he entered her. She gripped his shoulders tightly, her nails digging into his skin as she adjusted to his size. Levi groaned softly, his hands on her waist as he helped her sink down onto him inch by inch.
"Fuck, you're tight," Levi muttered, his voice strained.
She whimpered as she finally took him all the way inside her. She paused for a moment, panting softly as she got used to the feeling of fullness. Levi's hands roamed her body, caressing her sides and back as he waited patiently for her to be ready.
After a few breaths, she began to move, rolling her hips experimentally. She slowly lifted herself, then sank back down onto Levi's cock. She started moving up and down in a gentle rhythm, enjoying every second of the feeling of him stretching and filling her with each thrust. Levi's hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as he thrust up to meet her.
"God, you feel amazing," she gasped, her head falling back as pleasure coursed through her.
Levi leaned closer, pressing his face into her bouncing breasts. He kissed a path down her cleavage before taking one into his mouth and sucking eagerly, leaving behind small red marks that would surely be visible later. His hands slid up her back, pulling her closer as their pace quickened.
Her moans grew louder as Levi hit deeper inside her. She clung to him tightly, her nails digging into his back as the pleasure built. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the empty theater, mixing with their heavy breathing and gasps of pleasure.
Levi's hands gripped her ass, guiding her movements as he thrust up into her. He could feel her walls clenching around him, drawing him in deeper with each roll of her hips.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Levi groaned in her ear.
She whimpered in response, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased her release. She moved hard against him, feeling the friction of his cock hitting all the right spots inside her.
Levi sensed her growing desperation and suddenly gripped her hips, stilling her movements. Before she could protest, Levi lifted her off him and spun her around. 
"Bend over," he commanded.
Her heart raced as she obeyed, leaning forward and gripping the seat in front of her. She felt exposed and vulnerable in this position, but the thrill of it sent shivers down her spine.
Levi's hands roamed over her ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. He spread her cheeks, exposing her wet pussy to him. She gasped as she felt the head of his cock teasing her entrance once again. Without warning, Levi thrust forward, filling her completely once again.
She gasped at the sudden fullness, her fingers gripping the seat tighter as Levi began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her gasp loudly.
Levi's hands gripped her hips, steadying her as he lifted her right leg and hooked it over his shoulder, turning her onto her side, as she clung to the backrest of the seat for support. She gasped loudly as Levi slid back inside her, pumping in and out of her in the new angle allowing him to penetrate even deeper than before.
"Ah! Fuck—," she moaned, her voice trembling. 
The position left her exposed, her leg held high as Levi's hand roamed her body. His fingers trailed along her inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin before sliding up to cup her breast. She arched into his touch, her head falling back against his shoulder as pleasure coursed through her.
"Mmmph!” She bit her lower lip hard, trying to restrain her cries of ecstasy. She could feel him hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. Her body trembled, growing weak from the intense pleasure as her back arched and her head leaned against the backrest.
Encouraged by her reaction, Levi angled his hips to hit that spot repeatedly. His thrusts became harder and faster, driving her closer to the edge with each movement. She could feel herself getting close, that familiar tension building in her lower abdomen. 
"Oh god, Levi," she gasped, her voice breathy and desperate. "Don't stop. I'm so close."
Levi’s grip on her hip tightened as he continued his relentless pace. 
"You want more?" Levi asked with a smirk.
"Yes," she whimpered. "Please, I need more."
Levi's fingers found her clit, tracing circles around it in time with his thrusts. Her body trembled as Levi's fingers focused on her clit. The dual sensations of his cock hitting deep inside her and his fingers on her most sensitive spot quickly pushed her towards the edge. Her breath came in short, desperate gasps as the pressure built.
"Oh god, oh god," she chanted, her voice rising in pitch. "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna—"
Her words cut off in a loud cry as her orgasm crashed over her. Her entire body contracting with release, her back arching as the pleasure radiated through her. Her cunt clenched around Levi's cock, drawing him in deeper.
Levi groaned at the feeling of her pulsing around him. He lowered her leg back to the floor before he continued thrusting through her climax, prolonging her pleasure. His movements became more erratic as he neared his own release. 
Her body trembled as the aftershocks of her peak rippled through her. Levi's breathing became ragged as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust.
"Fuck, I'm close," Levi groaned, his voice strained.
She gasped as she pushed back against him, meeting his thrusts as she felt him swell inside her. Levi let out a final, deep thrust and buried himself completely as he reached his climax. He let out a deep, raspy moan as he came, his hips jerking against her as he filled the condom.
For a moment, they stayed still, both panting heavily as they came down from their highs. Slowly, Levi’s grip on her relaxed and he slowly pulled out, causing her to whimper softly at the loss. He carefully removed the condom, tying it off and setting it aside to dispose of later.
She sat up properly in her seat, pulling her shirt down and fixing her skirt, just as Levi pulled up his pants before sitting beside her. They both sat quietly, their breathing slowly going back to normal.
She could feel the heat from Levi's body next to hers. Her skin felt warm and damp with sweat.
She ran a hand through her messy hair, trying to smooth it down.
Levi leaned his head back against the seat. She glanced over at him, taking in his profile in the dim light. She felt unsure what to say or do now that the heat of the moment had passed.
After a few moments of silence, Levi turned his head slightly, his expression was unreadable as ever. He looked directly at her eyes and she felt her face heating up, suddenly shy in the aftermath of their encounter. 
"So...that happened," she murmured.
Levi exhaled quietly, a faint hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. "Not something you usually do on a Friday night, I assume." His tone was as dry as usual, but there was a hint of warmth underneath.
She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. "Yeah. Definitely not. This was...unexpected."
"Beats watching those cheesy romance movies alone, doesn't it?"
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling."Some of those movies have their charms."
"Sure they do," Levi replied dryly. 
They fell into silence again, but it felt more comfortable now. Her mind was racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. Part of her couldn't believe she'd just had sex with the grumpy janitor in an empty movie theater. Another part of her was already wondering if it would happen again.
"What about you? Is this... a regular thing for you?" She asked.
Levi's expression remained neutral. "Fucking strangers in the theater? Can't say it is." He said looking up at the ceiling.
She bit her lip, hesitating before speaking again. "I'm Y/N, by the way… In case you were wondering who you just… you know."
"Levi," he replied, even though she had just moaned his name a few moments ago.
"So..." she started hesitantly. "Do you make a habit of this? Hooking up with girls after hours?"
Levi turned to look at her fully, his expression serious.
"No," Levi said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t. Not really my thing."
Levi’s words hung in the air for a moment before her mind caught up with them. She blinked, trying to process what he had just said. “Wait, really?”
Levi turned his head slightly, his expression blank. “Why would you think otherwise?” he asked.
She bit her lip, feeling a flush creep up her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
“Well… you had a condom,” she murmured, glancing away. “Kinda seemed like you carry those around at work… you know, just in case.”
Levi’s expression remained deadpan. “I don’t carry them for fun. I have to refill those stupid vending machines in the bathrooms,” he said flatly. “It’s just part of the job.”
She blinked, surprised. She hadn’t expected that answer. Her mind raced as the details sank in, and it actually made sense.
“Oh,” she said, a small laugh escaping her. “Well, that’s... practical.”
Levi nodded as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “You’d be surprised how often people go to the bathroom for more than just business,” he added disgusted.
Her cheeks burned, and she couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly. The memory of her rushing into the bathroom just a few minutes ago flooded back “Yeah,” she said awkwardly. “That’s... weird.”
They sat in silence for another moment, the air between them charged with an unfamiliar tension. 
Her mind raced, unsure what to do or say next. Part of her wanted to lean in and kiss him again, to see if the spark was still there. Another part felt suddenly self-conscious, hyperaware of her messy appearance and the fact that she had just fucked a man she barely knew.
"So,” Levi said, snapping her out of her thoughts, and breaking the silence. “You got anything else planned for tonight?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her. 
She was caught off guard by the question. She hesitated for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts before answering, "Uh...no, not really," she said. 
She hadn't expected him to ask her something so casual, especially after everything that had just happened.
Levi’s lips curled into a sly smirk, his eyes filled with intrigue as he leaned in closer. He gently lifted her chin and tilted her head back, causing her to look up at him.
"Good," he said as he ran his thumb down her lip, watching her closely as she trembled under his touch. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
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lazyscience · 2 days ago
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People feel like astrology works BECAUSE it's so random and unspecific; taking these basically random word association tables of characteristics and vague actions can actually be helpful when you're stuck on something in your head. What it does is give you a fresh perspective/lens you're probably not using, because odds are you wouldn't have arrived at it from a logical analysis of your situation. However, because humans be humaning and what we think is "logical" is frequently full of unrecognized biases and cognitive distortions, it's full of blind spots and under/overestimations.
Trying to fit your issue of "should I apply for this job" or "should I call this person I'm attracted to" or "what should I do about X friend group drama" into "People with Venus in their ninth house should look for investment opportunities this month" isn't logical, but what it DOES do is inspire you to try and think how your personal issue fits into that prompt, which might give you a different but still useful angle to address it with.
For example, if you decide this advice applies to that person you're not sure you should call and come up with 'are they an investment in my future, or are they me wasting my money on a cool hoodie with thumb holes?' the question isn't actually "should I call them" but "are they a good longterm relationship prospect, and if they are is that also something they want?" Which you probably either already know and are just waffling because they're a good lay and the dating market for permanence has been discouraging so why not have a little treat (you know why, it delays finding what you really want), or you don't, so you should call them to make a date and talk more about where you might see things going in future.
So tl;dr things like astrology, tarot cards and other woo-woo divination techniques CAN encourage creative thinking and problem-solving - up to a point, as long as you remember that ANY horoscope forecast or card pull could do the same thing, and it's a thought exercise not someone actually foretelling your future. It's a more complicated and aesthetic way to flip a coin, basically.
Astrology doesn't seem to work.
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logansargeantsbabymom · 3 days ago
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Just A Prank
Franco Colapinto x Fem!reader
minor angst and a lot of fluff
Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!
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The day began like any other. You and Franco had both slept in, rare and cherished moments of rest squeezed between the constant hum of his career as a Formula 2 driver. Lately, every moment together felt extra special—his season was nearing its end, and with it, the uncertainty of what would come next loomed ever closer.
That morning, you both lounged on the sofa, Franco’s head resting comfortably in your lap as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through his messy dark hair. You could feel the quiet rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body leaning into yours. He seemed unusually relaxed, but you could also sense an underlying tension—like he was holding something back.
“Do you want to go out for a walk later?” you asked, trying to pull him out of his pensive silence.
Franco looked up at you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’d rather stay like this for a bit longer,” he murmured, leaning up to steal a kiss. “Besides, who knows when I’ll get the chance to do this again.”
“Franco, don’t be so dramatic,” you chuckled, but his words stirred something inside you. You both knew the competitive nature of racing, the constant push to perform, and the slim chances of moving up to Formula 1. He’d been hoping, of course, but you could feel the weight of the uncertainty. It had been pressing on both of you, silent and unspoken.
As the day wore on, you found yourself nestled in the little routines that made life with Franco feel so complete: cooking breakfast together, debating which show to watch, laughing over silly inside jokes only the two of you understood. The hours passed, and you found comfort in his presence, a sense of home you never thought you’d find so soon in life.
Then, in the early afternoon, Franco’s phone rang. The sharp sound cut through the quiet, and he tensed immediately.
“Hold on, amor,” he said softly, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the screen. “It’s my boss… I need to take this.”
You watched him slip into the next room, closing the door behind him as he answered. You felt your heart rate pick up, your mind running through a million scenarios. You knew he’d been anxiously awaiting some news about next season, but he hadn’t said much—always downplaying it, always acting like it was no big deal. Yet you could tell it mattered to him more than he let on.
Minutes ticked by, each one dragging longer than the last. You strained to hear snippets of his voice, but it was muffled behind the door. Your stomach churned with nerves, and you hugged a pillow to your chest, wondering what could possibly be taking so long.
Finally, he emerged, his face unreadable. You searched his expression, looking for any hint of what he’d heard, but he just sighed, walking toward you with a faint smile.
“So…” he said, plopping down beside you, trying to look nonchalant. “Looks like next season… they’re, uh, bringing someone else in to replace me.”
The words landed like a stone in your chest. “What?” you whispered, wide-eyed with disbelief. “Franco, no—there’s no way! You’ve been amazing this season! Who would they possibly bring in that’s better than you?”
He shrugged, looking away, his face somber. “Apparently they want a different direction or something.”
Anger bubbled up inside you, your face heating as you struggled to keep your composure. “I’m sorry, but that’s insane. You’ve worked so hard, Franco. You don’t deserve this! It’s not fair!”
Franco bit his lip, struggling to contain a grin. You were too furious to notice.
“I’ll call them,” you continued, clenching your fists. “I’ll go down to the paddock myself if I have to and demand answers. They don’t realize what they’re giving up.”
“Y/N,” Franco interrupted softly, his voice trembling slightly with laughter, “it’s a joke.”
You froze, trying to process his words. “A… a joke?” you repeated, blinking in confusion.
He laughed, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace, his whole body shaking with laughter. “Yes, cariño, a joke! They didn’t replace me. They actually… called me up. I’m going to F1.”
For a second, you couldn’t speak. Relief and shock hit you in equal measure, a tidal wave of emotions threatening to spill over. You blinked, your mind racing to catch up. “Wait, Franco, are you serious?”
He nodded, his eyes shining with excitement, a look you’d never seen before. “I am. I didn’t want to get my hopes up until I knew for sure. But yes… I’m moving up to Formula 1.”
“Franco!” you gasped, grabbing his face in your hands as the reality of it set in. Pride, love, and pure joy swelled in your heart, and you leaned in, pressing a fierce, grateful kiss to his lips. “I’m so, so proud of you.”
He grinned, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. “So… do you still want to go to that fancy dinner? I think I could use a celebration.”
You didn’t need any more convincing. After changing into something special for the occasion, you spent the rest of the evening out together, every laugh and glance shared over the candlelit table a reminder of the journey you’d both been on together, and the exciting path that lay ahead. It felt surreal, like a dream you both dared not wake up from.
The restaurant was perfect—a quiet, candlelit spot with a warm ambiance, the kind of place where you felt like the world outside melted away. It was just you and Franco, tucked into a cozy booth with glasses of deep red wine glinting in the soft light. You both had eyes only for each other.
As you sat down, Franco took your hand, his fingers warm and familiar as they laced through yours. He began tracing soft, invisible circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, a simple gesture that sent gentle shivers up your spine. You caught yourself smiling, wondering if he realized just how much these little touches meant to you.
“Who are you most excited to see on the grid?” you asked, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. You knew he had a few favorite drivers, people he looked up to and couldn’t wait to work alongside. The mere thought of him among the ranks of those he admired filled you with pride.
“Ah, I can’t lie,” he said with a grin, leaning closer. “It has to be Alonso. To think that I’ll be racing alongside him… It still doesn’t feel real. And Verstappen, too—I’ve watched them since I was a kid, you know? To be up there with them, fighting for positions on the same track…” He shook his head, a little awestruck, and you could see the light in his eyes, that spark of a dream coming true.
You squeezed his hand, feeling his excitement wash over you like a wave. “It’s everything you’ve worked for, Franco. And you deserve it more than anyone.”
He gave you a bashful smile, a flicker of vulnerability in his expression. “I’d never have made it here without you, Y/N. You’re my biggest supporter, and that means the world to me.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured, brushing his cheek softly. “It’s just… I’m so happy to see you finally getting what you’ve dreamed of. It’s going to be incredible, Franco.”
The two of you settled into an easy rhythm of talking about the future—where he’d be traveling, who he’d meet, the circuits he was most excited to race on. He laughed as he recounted stories of watching past races as a kid, how he’d imagined himself on those tracks, feeling every turn and straight as if he was already there.
“To celebrate,” he began, leaning back with a mischievous smile, “we should travel somewhere just for us. No circuits, no media. Just the two of us, like old times.”
Your eyes lit up. “Like a real holiday?”
He nodded. “Exactly. We could go somewhere quiet, off the grid. A beach, maybe. Just us, some sunshine, no worries.”
“Let’s do it,” you said, a smile spreading across your face. “After your first race, we’ll sneak away and have our own little victory tour.”
Franco laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a date, then.” He raised his glass in a toast, and you clinked yours against his, both of you laughing, a gentle warmth in the air as the wine brought out the color in his cheeks.
As he sipped, he looked at you thoughtfully. “What about you, Y/N? This is going to be a huge change. Are you ready for all the travel, the media, the madness?”
You felt his fingers lace through yours a little tighter, a look of genuine concern crossing his face. You took a breath, holding his gaze. “Franco, I’ll follow you anywhere. This is your dream, and I want to be there to support you every step of the way. I’ll be right there, cheering you on, reminding you to eat, helping you decompress after every race. Whatever you need.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, his face softening, his eyes full of that love that had been there from the beginning. “I’m the luckiest guy alive, you know that?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice caught as you noticed something over his shoulder. At a table just across the room, seated side by side with familiar expressions of pride and warmth, were your parents. They were dressed for the occasion, looking right at you with knowing smiles, raising their glasses in your direction.
“Wait… are those… my parents?” you whispered, glancing back at Franco, utterly bewildered. “What are they doing here?”
But when you turned back to him, Franco was no longer in his seat. Instead, he was down on one knee beside you, his warm hand still holding yours. In his other hand, he held a small, velvet ring box, his face a mixture of nervousness and undeniable love.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft yet steady. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were something special. You’re my best friend, my rock, and the reason I’ve been able to dream as big as I have. I can’t imagine facing any of life’s twists and turns without you by my side. I want to spend every lap of this life with you. Will you marry me?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, the enormity of the moment crashing over you. You could feel the warmth of his hand still holding yours, the love in his gaze steady and unwavering. You could only nod, whispering, “Yes, Franco. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
The restaurant broke into applause as he slid the ring onto your finger. He rose to his feet, pulling you close, and you laughed through your tears, burying your face in his shoulder as the joy of it all overflowed. It felt as though time had stopped, as though the two of you were the only people in the room.
When you pulled back, your parents were there, wrapping you in hugs, congratulating you both. You looked back at Franco, his eyes never leaving yours, that same quiet joy radiating from him.
In that moment, you knew that no matter where this life took you, every twist and turn would be worth it because you’d be facing them together.
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