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storiesofsvu · 5 months ago

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Decadent Desires Ch 9

*not my images*

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: alcohol, language, v minor canon type mentions, a little bit of politics, sexually charged conversations, some minor teasing from friends, smut. This one's a long one boys, hope you're up for it. It jumps around a little bit through time but it just makes my life easier and your reading experience more entertaining that way.

The rooftop terrace bar at the Pendry was where you found yourself the following Friday evening. Absolutely stunning views of the river, delectable Japanese appetizers and handcrafted cocktails yet all you could manage to pay attention to was your phone. It seemed like every time you managed to place it down on the table it would ping again. You’d silenced it to not offend any of the other diners in the area but the buzzing continued to grab your attention, everything from voicemails to texts to emails that nearly demanded your immediate attention.

Normally Emily would have been admiring the glow from the setting sun and the way it washed you in a golden light, pulling a sparkle from your eye. Instead she found herself focusing in on the covered up darkness beneath your eyes, the chapped piece of your lower lip that you’d no doubt been stress chewing on throughout the week and the slight redness of your eyes that she was certain was from wearing contacts for far longer than advised.

“Sorry.” You huffed, shoving your phone deep enough into your purse it would no longer disturb you before turning back to the table and taking a swig of your cocktail.

“No need.” She cast a small smile across at you, “I know how important work is.” She assured before picking up a piece of sushi.

“All things considered,” your voice dropped, “you are paying me to keep you company right now. I should be more present.”

Emily shrugged, opting to sway the conversation “all those interruptions helping subside the stress or making it worse?”

“No stress.” You feigned a smile, popping a piece of edamame into your mouth and she chuckled.

“You’re tense.” She noted, “I can practically feel the knots building up in my own neck.”

“I’m fine.” You replied with a small laugh.

“You’re holding it in your shoulders.” She pointed out, laughing softly as you immediately relaxed your shoulders and sat back in your chair. “Long week?”

“Could always have been worse.” You replied and she scoffed at the thought, knowing all too well what you meant. When you looked up at her again you watched as her eyes surveyed you, narrowing ever so slightly, “is…this what it feels like to be profiled?”

“I-oh! C’mon.” She scoffed and you laughed, picking up your drink again, “you look tired, like you could use a bit of a break.”

“Good thing I know it’s a guarantee that you’ll take great care of me then.” You half teased and she nearly rolled her eyes.

“Aside from the offending phone, did you have any other plans this weekend?” She asked curiously, ideas already spinning in her head as she’d looked through the amenity brochures before you’d arrived.

“Might have to do a bit of work tomorrow morning but you are all I have on my schedule.”

“Good.” She nearly smirked back at you.

And take care of you is exactly what Emily did. Just enough to have you satisfied and relaxed, not a moment too long to make you drained or completely dead. She had mastered the perfect balance to give you both a release and begin to soothe out the tension in your bodies, relaxing into the plush bedding as the stars took over the sky.

Even with Emily’s best efforts the night before she had to frown when she woke up to the sound of your hushed voice while you paced through the outer part of the suite on the phone. Knowing you were working, she gave you the privacy, opting to roll over and go back to sleep considering she finally had the opportunity. By the time she woke up again sunshine was pouring in from the gap in the curtains and her stomach was grumbling. She poked her head out of the bedroom, finding you curled up yet somehow also hunched over in the corner of the couch typing away on your laptop. At the very least you’d taken out your contacts, glasses perched on your face to give your eyes a break. She heard you mumble something about a fresh pot of coffee and was incredibly thankful to see two trays of breakfast, one half picked through and one untouched for her.

She ate a few small bites, letting out a satisfied sigh at the first sip of coffee and you thought you heard her say something about getting a workout in before she disappeared from the suite. She shot you off a text about lunch but didn’t hear anything back and after stopping in the lounge for her own she returned back upstairs to find you sprawled across the couch napping. Her brow furrowed at the way your body was already tensed up again, shoulders hunched right up to your ears, one of your wrists twisted at an angle she could hardly believe was comfortable and she knew she’d made the right evening plans.

“Done?” She asked a few moments after you’d finally closed your laptop and shoved it off to the side, watching as you let out a sigh, pinching at the bridge of your nose.

“Yeah. Sorry, again.” You cast her a sympathetic look and she simply chuckled.

“C’mon.” She nodded her head toward the door, “we’ve got plans.”

“I highly doubt I’m dressed for dinner.” You gestured down to your leggings, and she laughed again.

“Just come on, trust me.”

Emily led you directly past the restaurant, through the lobby and didn’t even glance at the bar before you wound through a hallway and ended up at the spa. You hadn’t realized amenities like this were something that would regularly be available this late on a Saturday but you also wouldn’t have been surprised to find out Emily had pulled a couple strings here and there.

You were treated to a complimentary bottle of champagne, lush, fuzzy robes to change into and then guided into treatment rooms. A session of a hydra facial, any kind of hair removal wanted, CBD therapy to help promote relaxation and pain relief on your joints followed by a full body massage with hot stones was far beyond what you were expecting. Between each treatment you were brought out small plates of tapas and refills of champagne or any drink of your choice and by the end of it you were in a complete state of relaxation, any care in the world totally forgotten. Every ache and stiffness that had threatened to linger in your body was gone, replaced with an overwhelming sense of peace.

The sense of peace and tranquility continued once you were back upstairs, the bathroom lights dimmed almost all the way down, candles scattered around the room to bask it in a warm glow. The calming sense of lavender wafting from the bath oil as steaming water filled the huge tube that overlooked the river. The sun was about halfway done its journey sinking into the horizon when Emily finally slipped under the water behind you, handing you a glass of wine as you nestled into her body.

“Thank you.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to her arm before you took a sip of your drink, “and not just for the wine.”

She chuckled softly, her lips brushing the top of you head as her gaze landed out the window, “from what I’ve gathered, it’s my priority to take care of you. If I can’t help decrease your workload the least I can do is make sure you get to relax once it’s all done.”

“Well you’ve done spectacularly at that.”

“Who said I was done?”

You could practically hear her smirk, a laugh lost in your throat as her hands snuck under the water, ghosting over you body while her lips met the side of your neck. Your head instantly rolled back to give her better access to your skin, a small moan leaving your lips when her teeth brushed across your skin.

Emily wasted no time, not wanting to tease whatsoever tonight, her hands cupping your chest, groping for a moment before her thumbs and forefingers pinched at your nipples. Your back arched off her body into the touch, your head tilting further back on her shoulder and she was able to capture your lips in a kiss. Her lips moved slowly and gracefully against your own as her hands continued to toy with your chest. One of your hands reached backwards, wrapping around her head, sinking into the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her to you while her tongue slipped into your mouth.

With one hand still pinching and fondling at your chest the other sunk down your body and settled between your legs. Two fingers easily found your clit as you spread your legs wider for her and they pressed into the swollen nub just right, beginning to rub circular patterns over it. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers tightening in her hair as pleasure began to build deep inside you. With the state of just how relaxed you already were from the evening, it didn’t take long for Emily to have you absolutely melting in her arms, your breath hot, panting right against her lips as she swallowed down your whines and moans as she took you to your peak.

There was no doubt that by the time you climbed into bed that night you were at your uttermost state of relaxed and satisfied.

Cincinnati had its perks, but the main one was that it wasn’t too far of a flight for the BAU to make. Their case also seemed to be wrapping up relatively quickly, easily and safely without too many trips into the field. The team was currently at the local precinct going through chain of custody paperwork when Emily’s ears perked up at the sound of a familiar voice in a new place. She glanced up with a slightly furrowed brow until she looked around and found the source of the noise, turning to JJ,

“Hey, turn that up, will you?”

The blonde glanced up then to the television, picking up the remote in front of her and clicking the volume up a few notches, listening a few seconds before looking back to Emily. “Is this about that reproductive health bill everyone keeps talking about?”

“I think so.” The older woman replied, her head tilting slightly as she watched you on the screen, “Dunbar’s been trying to get it pushed through to congress for a while now.”

“So why isn’t Dunbar the one on tv right now?” Luke asked, the conversation now gaining his attention.

“Not sure.” Emily shrugged, “but she’s head of PR, Heather’s probably out of town and trusted her with it.”

“First name basis now, are we?” Luke teased back and Emily playfully rolled her eyes.

“We’ve been running in the same circles for years.”

“I’ve heard they’ve had a lot of pushback on the bill.” JJ muttered, chewing on her pen as the tv gained her full attention. “Is that why I’ve seen this girl all over the place this week? Final push? From the looks of things they need all the help they can get.”

“You’d be surprised.” Emily laughed softly, thinking about the amount of phone calls she’d overheard the previous weekend, “a lot of that elbow rubbing doesn’t happen in meetings or conferences, it’s behind closed doors and no one really steps out to confirm it until the time comes.”

“I hear she’s got Sharp in her pocket.” JJ noted.

“She does.” Emily replied.

“Sharp’s not what you need with a bill like this.” Tara cut in with an annoyed scoff, “you need a Southerner with a dick.”

It was almost on cue that you were announcing President Underwood’s addition to the stage, greeting him with a warm smile and accepting the lingering kiss he left on your cheek, resounding in either groans or laughs throughout the room.

“Looks like Sharp’s not the only one she has in her pocket.” Tara teased.

“You kidding?” Luke laughed, “girl like that, she’s probably got every male politician over the fifty doing whatever she asks.”

“Try every politician over the age of twenty five.” Tara replied, “Bailey’s got a huge thing for her and you are getting drool all over the table.”

“Am not.” He defended, though discreetly shifted in order to rub at his chin.

“Please, you couldn’t handle a girl like Walton.” She pressed on, prodding at his shoulder, “you’d be on you knees begging for your mommy in a matter of seconds.”

“Ah! Come on!” Luke protested as his cheeks began to tinge pink, thankful that he picked up on Tara’s words quick enough to circle the conversation back around, “you name dropped her, you know her?”

“She was a year or two behind Rebecca at law school.” She shrugged, “they kept in touch, Rebecca always knew she had high up connections. I’ve met her a few times.”

“She went to law school to be in PR?” JJ’s head tilted back towards the group, catching Emily in a shrug, “man, we could use a new media liaison like that…”

Emily chuckled, “I think we’re a little below her pay grade…” she flipped the case folder in front of her shut, “but now that we’ve established Luke has mommy issues let’s go pick up this unsub and get him transferred over to Illinois custody.”

She couldn’t help but smirk as the man’s cheeks turned the brightest red they could while he attempted to string together a sentence in defence, Tara continually poking at his cheeks, making the reddening worse as the team laughed.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table in front of you, the screen flashing Heather’s name across it and you flashed a polite smile to your host before placing down the glass of scotch to pick up the device.

‘Goddammit I really should have brought you with me.’

Your eyes flicked to the time on your phone, letting out a chuckle when you realized just how late it was.

‘Oh I’m sure Boise would have been a thrill of a time; sad I’m missing out on all the sights and tourist traps you’re dying for me to see.’

‘Ha-ha.’

‘You’ll be fine. I set you up with everything you need and Cynthia’s there to troubleshoot. You know I’m covering bases here.’

‘That’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m perfectly capable of handling a few public appearances without you.’

‘Yeah well, sometimes I like to be the tease.’

‘You’ll pay for that.’

‘On the contrary, I’m pretty sure you’re the one footing the bill.’

‘You know, you get feisty over text.’

‘Just like to keep you on your toes.’ You chuckled quietly, ‘you seem stressed.’

‘How else would I be? Next time you’re coming with me.’

‘Where’s the next one?’

‘California.’

‘Mmm… nice weekend stay at Laguna mid November? Twist my rubber arm. I guess I’ll have to suffer through that.’ You could practically hear her eye roll through the phone, ‘and check the liner of your suitcase for a purple travel bag. A few things in there might help you out..’

A minute went by before the three little dots popped up on the screen again and Heather’s reply came through.

‘Look at you, watching out for me all the way from DC, packing my favourites and everything.’

‘When you get agitated, Cynthia gets anxious and things start to go wrong. Couldn’t possibly risk you being over stressed and out of State with no one to help.’

‘If you’re so interested in helping, maybe I should call?’

‘I’m not having phone sex with you Heather. I’m inside the Oval Office.’

‘Isn’t it a little late to be in the Oval?’

‘It’s never to late to share a drink and a cigar with the inner circles. You always say I know how to earn my keep.’

‘Good girl. I’ll make sure you get a nice bonus next term.’

Knowing the conversation was over you locked your phone, placing it down on the table once more and giving a brief apology to your company before returning to the conversation at hand.

Emily knew it was last minute to be booking a hotel while on the jet back to Washington, but she’d actually fallen asleep on time the night previous and hadn’t gotten around to it yet. She was surfing through various options, trying to figure out food and amenities of which one would be best when JJ dropped into the seat across from her, sliding a fresh mug of coffee across the table.

“Hotels?” She raised a brow, “what? Didn’t get enough of home away from home this week?”

Emily let out a huff of a laugh, “I’m meeting someone for dinner, just trying to figure out where.”

“You need a hotel for dinner?” The blonde asked, probably a little too loud as it piqued the interest of Tara and Luke across the way.

“Sounds like more than dinner to me.” Tara teased and Emily rolled her eyes, swiping out of the app to pull up her text thread with you to ask a couple of questions.

“Hotel bars a quieter, a little more discreet and you can palm the bartender a Benjamin to get access to their club level or a meeting room.” Emily muttered while typing out the message.

“You’re really not trying very hard here Prentiss.” Tara chuckled.

“I – ugh. It’s work related, she works for Dunbar”—

“Are you meeting up with Walton?” Luke cut in, his eyes suddenly wide and fully paying attention and Emily let out a huff.

“She’s helping me out with a couple of bureaucratic things and she just happens to know her way around a politician or two.”

“I bet she does.” He replied with a playful grin on his lips and she resisted the urge to smack his shoulder.

“Guys,” Emily let out a tiny laugh, “come on, just because she’s a conventionally attractive woman doesn’t mean she slept her way to the top. She just lucked out being a… Dunbar.. nepo-adopted-sibling.” She vaguely gestured with her hands as she tried to string together both her words and an excuse that would shut them up. “She’s fantastic at what she does and god knows our department could use a little bit of insight in that matter.”

“Something we should be worried about?” JJ asked, a slight frown on her face and the other woman shook her head.

“No, absolutely not. Bailey’s just been the biggest pain in my ass this week, blowing up my phone all hours of the night, throwing more and more onto my plate, changing policies and procedures without saying anything and then snapping when they aren’t done right. It’s an added headache I just don’t need.”

“And here I was thinking you were finally out having some fun.” Tara teased, settling back into her seat and this time the back of Emily’s hand did hit her shoulder.

A moment later her phone buzzed in her lap and she swiped across your name to open the message.

‘Nepo-adopted-sibling? I’ll take it.’

Emily’s eyes widened and she would have glanced around had they not been thirty seven thousand feet in the air.

‘How did you hear that?’

‘You sent me a voice message, clearly not on purpose. Was that the lamest cover story ever or do you actually need my professional advice? Cause I charge by the hour.’

‘And here I was thinking I was already paying you.’

‘Fair point.’ ‘One of my friends matched with Bailey on Beltway a couple of weeks ago and they seem to be hitting it off. I’ll put in a good word for both of them, that should get him off your ass and hopefully not as pent up for a week or two.’ ‘Where am I meeting you?’

‘You don’t have to but thank you.’ ‘And Hamilton Hotel, on fourteenth.’

‘Hey, if it gets her laid maybe she’ll stop complaining.’ ‘Perfect. See you tonight.’

Emily let out a sigh of relief, wondering if you really could pull the strings to at least attempt to distract her boss for a little bit to give her some breathing room. She relaxed back into her seat, at leas she would have a couple of days away from work before having to deal with it all again, she needed a reset.

The keypad on the hotel room door beeped, pulling Emily’s attention towards the entry way as she put down her glass of wine, poking her head around the corner. She had a soft smile on her face, one that you returned, even if it was one that was more tired.

“Traffic was a fucking nightmare.” You muttered, dropping your bag down on an ottoman.

“Tell me about it.” She replied with a sigh, turning back to pour you a glass of wine, “I didn’t even bother going home after we landed.”

“Shit.” You stalled, eyes slightly widened as you looked over at her, “do you not live in the district? We could’ve been meeting somewhere closer to Quantico!”

“No, no!” She laughed, quick to wave you off as she handed you the wine glass and you said a quick thank you, “it’s totally fine. I’m actually right across the street from The Pendry.”

“Hmmm...” You hummed over your first sip, “waterfront living, how extravagant.”

Emily chuckled, “I upgraded when I got the promotion, figured it was time to splurge a little, enjoy the little things for once.” She sunk onto the bed behind her, pulling one of her legs up as you started to strip out of your suit jacket and make yourself more at home. “Seems like you had a busy week? Saw you so much on tv it was like I never left.”

“Yeah, bit hectic.”

“Hey, you know a Rebecca Wilson?” She asked and your brow furrowed.

“Uh, yeah, law school. We kept in touch, is she DOJ now?” You paused to take another sip of your wine, “wait, I’ve met her girlfriend, is she a fed too, or just a professional consult? God, why can’t I remember her name? I swear I’ve only got half a brain cell left at this point.” You let out a small laugh, turning to Emily before she could respond to any of your rapid fire questions and you finally actually took her in, “god you look insanely comfy. That’s fucking unfair.”

She laughed again, nodding toward your feet, “might want to start by taking off the Manolo’s.” You instantly followed her suggestion, kicking off the shoes and letting out a satisfied groan when you did so, your toes sinking into the carpet. “I figured I’d try to get an easy workout in.” She explained the outfit, “spent most of the day sitting behind a desk or on the jet.”

“No crazy gallivanting after serial killers through the Ohio River?” You asked with a grin and she laughed.

“No.”

“How tremendously boring.” You flopped down onto the bed all the way onto your back, your wine glass carefully held over the edge as to not spill and your gaze landed back on your stilettos. “God I do not want to put those shoes back on.” Emily watched, impressed as you somehow took the perfect sip of your wine without sitting up, “I’ll admit I’m jealous of those leggings, I want nothing more than sweatpants right now.”

“Then put on sweats.” She offered with a shrug and your head rolled towards her.

“This isn’t an Econo Lodge, I don’t think I’d exactly be dressed appropriately for dinner.” Your nose crinkled in distaste and Emily couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“You really did spend your week standing in for Heather, didn’t you?”

“Is the pretentious showing?” You asked with a grin.

She shook her head at you, a smile on her cheeks, “we don’t have to go anywhere. I’m pretty sure that’s why they invented room service in the first place.” She shifted over to the nightstand, grabbing a menu to toss in your direction, “I’ve got another bottle of wine and one of whiskey in my bag, but pick whatever you want.”

“You’re a life saver.” Sitting up, you leant over to press a kiss to her cheek, “but before I can even think of food I need to be out of this fucking suit.”

Comfy clothes acquired, the two of you flipped through the menus until you’d decided on some of the individual pizzas, an order of arancini and a couple of cannoli’s for dessert. Mindless television played on the tv to help both of your brains decompress from the insanely long and tedious weeks you’d had. Conversation picked up here and there, sharing little stories or anecdotes, laughing over stupid memories whatever you were watching brought up.

As the dishes found their way back to the tray and outside into the hall and the wine was replaced with whisky the lighting in the hotel room dimmed and it wasn’t long before you were tangled in each other’s limbs, lips moving lazily against each other. Emily’s hands snuck under the hem of your tank, briefly playing with your tits before shoving the fabric over your head and you broke the kiss long enough to toss it onto the floor. You shifted in her lap, straddling her hips and effectively rolling her onto her back before surging back down to kiss her once again. Your hands disappeared under her shirt, gently pinching at her nipples before nudging it over her head, your lips brushing over her jawline before nipping at her neck while your hands cupped her chest.

“Thought you didn’t want to think tonight.” She murmured breathlessly, a sigh escaping her lips as her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your lips sucking at her pulse point.

“I’m pretty sure I can eat pussy without a brain cell left.” You replied, nipping at her neck before you sunk lower, your fingers slipping under the waistband of her pants, tugging them and her underwear down her legs.

It only took a second for you to settle on your stomach between her legs, your hands on Emily’s thighs as she spread them wider for you. Your tongue lapped through her cunt slowly, flicking at her clit and her breath caught in her throat, hands quickly coming to tangle into your hair as you started to eat her out. Your mouth wrapped around her, tongue slipping in, lapping at her juices before tracing patterns across her clit, sucking the swollen nub into your mouth.

“Oh god…” Pleasure was surging through her and a gasp escaped her lips when two of your fingers easily slipped into her pussy. “Fuck!” Your mouth focused on her clit while your fingers started to pump, curling, scissoring and twisting with each thrust. “Shit that feels good…” her hips began to rock in time with your hand, whimpers escaping her lips each time your fingers curled, hitting the extra sensitive spot inside her.

You picked up the pace, sucking harder on her clit and she moaned loudly, nails softly scratching at your scalp as she ground against your mouth. Her pussy was pulsing around your fingers, squeezing you already and you knew she was close, her thighs shaking around you before she cried out, her back arching off the bed and her body tensed, letting out little shivers as you fingers gently fucked her through her orgasm.

“Get up here.” She panted and you giggled, softly pulling your fingers from here.

“Never said I was done.” With a smirk you rolled off the bed, grabbing something from your bag before returning with a small bottle of lube and a double ended dildo, “figured we both had long weeks, we should both get to reap the benefits.”

“I like the way you’re thinking.” She chuckled softly, watching as you climbed back onto the bed, coating both sides of the dildo with lube.

“Yeah?” Leaning forward you rubbed the smaller end against her sensitive cunt, “was kinda hoping I could ride you.”

“Fuck…” she muttered, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as her head fell back into the pillows when the toy brushed against her clit, “you definitely don’t have to ask that twice.”

With another soft giggle you pressed the toy against her harder, the tip gently nudging into her, thrusting a few times until you’d sunk it all the way in. Emily's hand wound around the base, holding it steady as you climbed up on your knees, straddling her once again before sinking down onto the longer end and letting out a happy moan.

“Oh god…”

“Feel good princess?” She asked, her hands settling on your hips and you nodded, your eyes already falling shut as your pussy fluttered around the toy.

Emily rocked her hips up, earning a gasp from you when her cock moved inside you, urging you to start riding and you began to roll your hips, whimpers coming from both of you as the base of the toy rubbed perfectly on your clits. Emily’s hands roamed over your body, fingertips leaving burning patterns across your skin, pinching at your nipples, rubbing at your clit as you continued to ride her. She could feel the wetness from your pussy dripping where your bodies connected. Each time you sunk all the way down onto the toy it pressed deeper into her, harder against her clit and she felt her body begin to tingle again when you picked up the pace, chasing your own orgasm.

Knowing you had to be close, she sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist, bracing her feet on the bed to fuck harder into you. Your moans instantly got louder as your cunt clenched down around the toy, a surprised whimper breaking free when her mouth wrapped around you nipple, teeth gently scraping over the sensitive skin. Your hands easily wound into her hair, tugging at the roots just enough to drive her wild, holding her to your chest as your body began to tremble.

“Come for me…” She husked, her breath hot on your skin and you let out a stifled moan, your arms tightening around her as your peak shot through you. The way you sank down even further onto the toy had it hit the exact right spot inside her and she let out a gasp, nails digging into your back when she came.

Panting, the two of you dropped to the bed, sinking into the pillows, the toy tossed aside to be dealt with later. You curled onto your side, barely able to keep your eyes open any longer and Emily wrapped around your back, pressing a kiss just below your ear as her fingers linked with yours.

“Better?”

“Immensely.” You replied with a yawn, squeezing softly at her hand, the entire world forgotten as the two of you were finally able to drift off.

____________

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#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #decadent desires #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss series

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vorfreudevortex · 29 days ago

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3. three can keep a secret...

a street racer!ino takuma x f!reader fic // redline masterlist

warnings // 5.8k words - swearing, alcohol, smoking, reckless driving (duh), all characters in college or recently graduated, mount hakone's details are not accurate for the sake of the story so pls don't try to clown me for it, mentions of weapons, mention of a car accident, injuries such as bleeding and broken bones, mention of death

✰ // the cars and the reader’s appearance in this fic are purposely kept ambiguous so you are free to have aspects look, feel, and be modified any way you’d like.

the vibes for chapter three

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

takuma’s soft palms securely grip your waist as you wobble and sway. the skate park is empty aside from you two, the setting sun casts a golden filter through the trees and onto his glowing skin. it’s been a few days since he first kissed you. after finally exchanging phone numbers, you’ve been texting every day since, and stealing away time to see him when suguru’s attention is turned towards something else. he’s taken you for breezy late night cruises, let you drive his skyline, and hushed walks through quiet neighborhoods.

but today he treats you to sushi from his mom’s lovely shop, and now a crash course lesson in skateboarding at the secluded park near his home.

“i’m gonna let go!”

“don’t!” you shriek, clamping onto the cotton of his navy blue shirt even tighter.

“i’m kidding,” he giggles. “i won’t let go until you ask me to.”

you jerk back and forth on the worn out wood, trying to tighten your core like takuma told you to, but it does nothing as you struggle to find balance.

“are you bending your knees?”

“i’m trying to,” you whine as he walks beside you, guiding you forward slowly. you finally find a small center of stability, “wait, let go now.”

he steps back as you slowly roll forward, arms flailing and torso contorting as you try to hold the balance you had. takuma doesn’t leave your side. the uneasiness becomes too much for you and you stumble off the board, sending it flying behind you. he’s quick to grab you.

“that was great, you’re making progress!” he grins. you grip his arms.

“that was terrifying!”

“oooh, so when 4 wheels have a supercharged v8, it’s fine” he teases. “but when it’s 3 pounds of wood, it’s terrifying?”

“it’s so not the same!”

takuma laughs before wrapping his strong arms around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. the contact is soft, gentle. you’ve noticed over the past few days that takuma is rowdy and rough when he makes contact with anything except you. when you’re there, his body and voice calms, like a precious glass ornament he’s afraid to break.

“we can be done for the day,” he suggests. “maybe another lesson tomorrow?”

“i can’t,” you pout. “my dad and brother said they have something planned for my birthday.”

“what?!” his eyes widen with alarm. “your birthday?”

“yeah,” you smile sheepishly. “i’m 21 tomorrow.”

“you should’ve said something! oh my god, i didn’t get you anything.”

“i didn’t expect you to,” you giggle. “you don’t need to get me anything, kuma.”

“no, no, no,” he pleads, tightly clinging to you. “i’ll get you something good, promise.”

“you really shouldn’t worry about it—”

“—sshhh,” he hushes you. “and this weekend, we can go out and celebrate at the underground.”

“i’d love that, kuma.”

“good,” another press to your forehead before quickly whipping around and hopping on his board. he pushes off, rolling fast and low as he approaches a ramp. he looks at you with a silly grin and playful eyes— it’s an addicting sight. “now watch this steeze!”

you can’t help but laugh at his goofy behavior as he lifts up from the ramp, the board twirling in the air before he sticks the landing.

it’s not the burning sun that sends warmth through your entire body, it’s takuma.

✰✰✰✰✰

that evening, chopsticks click and clatter around the kotatsu as your little family enjoys a comforting dinner. you, papa, and suguru prattle and laugh over minuscule conversation and steaming rice. but papa finds a lull through the noise, and takes the opportunity to say something that neither you or suguru were expecting.

“i talked to toji fushiguro the other day.”

ah, shit.

you look at suguru, suguru looks at papa. you know that your brother never told your dad about the tense situation from a few days ago. and you both know that papa is still friends with toji, but assumed that he would keep his mouth shut to him. plus, incidents like that had an unspoken rule to stay unspoken, even to those who were familiar with the scene.

“and how did that go?” suguru responds, his words slow and careful. papa looks at you, his kind eyes suddenly serious. he holds a beer bottle, oil and grease buried deep underneath his fingernails.

“toji says that there’s some people who don’t like that there’s a girl running around and racing.”

“i haven’t been racing, though,” you’re confused. you already know toji told your papa about the argument suguru had with his son. suguru stays quiet, looking down in his food with his brows furrowed.

“but you’ve been practicing to race,” you dad explains. “apparently, the local car community isn’t exactly excited that you’re here.”

“i’m just visiting,” you tilt your head. “i come here every summer, i think most people in the scene know that.”

“but you’re older now. you shipped out your car, doing mountain passes… getting more involved with suguru’steam.”

“that doesn’t mean anything,” suguru finally says. “who’s saying this?”

“i’m not sure,” papa admits. “but toji seemed concerned about it enough to come and talk to me.”

“and this was after suguru raced his son, right?” you ask.

“yes, but all that’s beside the point.”

“so what is the point?” your brother says, you can tell he’s getting irritated.

“well…” papa clears his throat. “…they don’t want a girl racing around them.”

“why not?” you ask and suguru rolls his eyes.

“it’s not like a girl’s never ran with us,” suguru scoffs. “this is stupid.”

“so, are people, like… mad at me?” you’re still confused. “they know my shelby is faster, they know that suguru’steaching me how to drift, so what? they don’t want the possibility of suguru’s sister being better than them? that’s so childish.”

“i agree,” suguru adds. “this is some bullshit. it’s just fun, my little sister wants to run around with me and race while she’s here for the summer, so she will. it’s not that serious.”

“trust me, i agree as well,” your papa looks anxious, the creases on his face seem more obvious than before. “it’s just that toji suggested that…”

“suggested what?” suguru huffs.

“he suggested that someone might cause trouble if clutch hangs around too much.”

“…is that a fucking threat?”

“i don’t know. but you needed to know, and clutch is old enough now where she should know it, too.”

“alright…,” your fingertips twitch. “so what happens now?”

suguru scarfs down the last of his food and stands up from the table. “i gotta call toru and ken.” your papa reaches over and places a reassuring hand over yours as suguru disappears upstairs.

“i’m sure it’s just talk. you shouldn’t stop having fun while you’re here,” his gentle words help you relax. “i love you, y/n. just be safe and smart when you’re out.”

✰✰✰✰✰

later, when the moon glows through the windows and the house settles into silence, you find yourself knocking on suguru’s bedroom door. you heard him come in earlier from the bar with his friends, and know he would be in bed now.

“come in.”

he lays back on the pillows of his bed with one knee propped up, scrolling on his phone. he only wears a pair of shorts and his long, dark hair is loose over his shoulders. his room is spotless, like always. against one side of the room is his bed and desk, the other a tv and dresser. they walls are covered in a tasteful array of signs and posters, the moonlight almost makes them seem alive. his dark wooden desk is littered with random silver car parts and tools, all clean and neatly aligned. his closet door is ajar, and each shirt is color coded.

you pad over and and he moves to make room for you as you sit beside him. his phone lights up his sleepy face, it’s a tiktok video of a beautiful nissan silvia.

“what’s up?” he smiles lazily, reaching up to wind his fingers through your hair. you slump into his shoulder.

“we never talked the other day.”

“yeah, i’m sorry. i got caught up working on satoru’s car.”

“it’s alright. i’ve already forgiven you.”

“well, i’m still sorry… never should of put you in that position.”

“don’t be,” you laugh. “i put myself there.”

“and i should’ve kept you out.” you sit up, his fingers leave your hair. he looks at you expectantly.

“nii-chan, you’ve never used your gun, right?” your voice is soft. “same with satoru?”

“no,” he looks directly in your eyes, he wouldn’t dare lie to you. “never.”

“okay,” you nod. “but, what about what papa said—”

“—i will if i need to,” he’s quick to respond. “and satoru.”

“i will, too.”

he lifts an eyebrow at your words. “huh?”

“i know how to use a gun,” you admit. “mom has one back home and taught me.”

“why would she get a gun?”

“i dont know,” you shrug. “everyone’s got one. so i guess she didn’t want to be the only one without.”

“you’re not going anywhere near my pistol.”

“i know.”

“seriously, don’t touch it under any circumstances. i don’t care if it's laying around in my car or something,” his voice is suddenly low and urgent. “if i get caught and they find your prints on it, it’s over for you.”

“you’d go to jail, too.”

“and i’ll be the only one going. you’ll have nothing to do with it.”

you’re both quiet for a moment before you ask your next question.

“why did toji fushiguro do that? don’t you think that was so weird?”

“i don’t know, i think just to piss me off some more,” suguru huffs. “either way, it was odd behavior, even from him. it was fucking disrespectful. he doesn’t know you like that so i don’t know why he would try that shit.”

“you still seem really mad about it.”

“because i am,” he sits up and grabs your arm. “that’s why i don’t want you anywhere near ino or any of the shadows. they hang out with some nasty people. fushiguro still does suspicious shit and i know he’s got his son in it too.”

“suspicious how?”

“fushiguro…” he pauses and glances at the bedroom door before lowering his voice to a whisper. “…fushiguro and his kid were the ones to help me get my gun. and i know exactly which nameless yakuza he sourced it from. and that kamo guy, the one with the tattoo on his nose, used to run drugs and other shit for him and toji. they ran around together in a motorcycle gang before they got busted and he came to tokyo.”

choso kamo? no way… he was so quiet and respectful towards you at the club, and he’s friends with takuma, the sweetest one of them all. same with megumi, he seemed so young and easily flustered, there’s not a chance that his own father has him sneaking around the city like that… right?

you want suguru to be lying but you know he isn’t. he’s never lied to you and his intense gaze solidifies his truth.

“you think anyone who willingly runs around with those guys can stay out of trouble? absolutely not. takuma and his boys were the first to get pistols. satoru and i thought the same as mom, we weren’t gonna get tied up someday as the only ones without them.”

“okay, i get it. but what does that mean for me?” you take a breathe. “i don’t wanna get caught in literal crossfire just because i wanna race.”

“you won’t.”

“how can you be sure? if toji fushiguro is this big and bad, i don’t think he’d make empty… threats… like that.”

“clutch, my team is more than just ken and toru,” he reassures. “sure, those two are always around, but the phantoms are bigger than you think. they’re just not around every time we’re out.”

“i kind of figured…”

“people say the phantoms run the streets of tokyo,” he continues. “everyone knows i don’t fool around. there’s a lot that happens when you’re not here. someone would be an idiot if they tried to come after us.”

“what about me?”

“us includes you, silly,” he smirks. “you’re my sister. you could beat most of them in a race after all. as long as you stay close to me, you’ll be alright.”

you can’t help but smile.

“suguru, i wanna be one of the fastest street racers in tokyo,” you admit. “at least while i’m here.”

“i think you’re pretty much there already,” he chuckles. “there’s no other girls who race with us.”

“i mean, even better than the handful of female racers around. i wanna be able to keep up with you.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. and i wanna win a touge pass on mount hakone, too. lots of them.”

“all before the summer ends?” he teases.

“yeah, before the summer ends,” you grin. “and then i’ll mysteriously disappear like i was never here.”

“oooh, kinda like a phantom?” he wears a shit-eating grin and you can’t help but laugh. “it’s late, you better get some sleep for you surprise tomorrow.”

“can you give me a hint?”

he looks up and purses his lips, faking a deep thought. “hmmm. it’s something you’ll never see coming.”

“yeah, i know,” you lightly smack him as he laughs. “that’s what a fucking surprise is.”

“i’m not telling you anything. but it’ll be a proper celebration of your 21st. it’s a big one, you’ll go home and be able to party now.”

“you act like i’ve never had a sip of liquor in my life,” you pull him in for a tight hug. “love you.”

“love you, too.”

you pull away and playfully jab your finger in his nose. “you need a soap opera on your life after the drama you caused the other night. don’t drag me into it again.” he swats your hand away with a grin.

“you shithead. get out of my room.”

at exactly 12:01 am, your phone sings:

takuma ino: happy birthday pretty girl :)

✰✰✰✰✰

your birthday flies by before you know it. papa, suguru, satoru, kento, and shoko wake you up with your favorite breakfast and gifts, including one that your mom mailed to you from back home. your bed is littered new clothes, jewelry, trinkets, and liquor at the end of the morning. suguru makes you play passenger princess in your own mustang for the day while he takes you around the city, while the others all seem to have excuses for why they can’t come spend your birthday with you.

suguru drags you all across tokyo. he takes you shopping, out for lunch, and then coffee when you get sleepy. he pays for your manicure, takes all your instagram photos for you without complaining, and to the sushi boat restaurant you’ve been wanting to visit. it’s not as good as ino family's sushi shop.

you’re exhausted by the time the sun has set, begging your brother to take you home so you can finally spend time with your papa before the night ends.

“your garage remote isn’t working,” suguru says as he fumbles with the buttons, the engine idling just outside the house.

“suguru, this has been the best day ever and i love you so much,” you start. “but i’m about to get real fucking cranky if i’m not in the house in 10 seconds.”

“relax,” he laughs. “go open the door for me and head on upstairs. i’ll pull your car in.”

you’re punching in the code when you hear suguru cut the motor of your mustang. the garage door groans open behind your back as you watch him walk up the driveway toward you.

“i thought you were gonna pull my car in?”

“i would but,” he points behind you. “there’s no room.”

your drowsiness had distracted you from realizing the shop’s lights were on when they shouldn’t have been. you look over your shoulder with wide eyes. suguru’s a fucking liar after all.

the shop is crowded with bodies that shout and holler excitedly when you finally turn around, and in the center sits your papa, satoru, kento, and shoko. between them, however, is a dark, blood red body of metal. there’s not a single scratch on the paint, and the chrome wheels gleam under the bright lights of the garage. the front license plate, brand new and snowy white, reads “CLUTCH”.

“what the fuck…”

“we all pitched in,” suguru slings an arm around your stiff shoulders and holds a key out before you. “still wanna go to bed?”

your life isn’t real. you stand there like an idiot, dumbfounded with your jaw hanging open. this is a movie— no, a dream. no, this is a prank. a sick, sick joke.

“liar,” you finally choke out. “you’re a liar. you’re lying.”

“never,” he says, finally letting a wide grin spread across his face. he pushes you into the garage and past the strangers. “i hope you don’t mind, but everyone here helped pitch in something and wanted to meet you. these are the phantoms…” he opens the driver’s door of the silvia and gently pushes you into the seat. “…and this is the newest phantom’s newest car.”

you’re crying, sobbing, bawling. you’re an absolute blubbering mess. suguru crouches down in the open door as you shakily fumble with the ignition. it roars to life and shakes the walls of the shop. the turbocharged engine sounds so good, so sweet. you wail along with it as you slump over suguru’s shoulders and wet his shirt with your tears.

you can’t stop your tears as your loved ones embrace you, it’s all so much, too much. this was much different than when your mom helped you purchase the mustang, matching whatever amount you saved up from countless hours working as a waitress from her seemingly endless bank account. the time, effort, and love that your family on this side of the world had put in just for you makes you want to burst.

you think about your papa, long hours underneath greasy hoods, meticulously tuning and fixing each motor for each client that rolled into the shop. you think about kento, serious eyes and rough hands toiling away at his side. suguru, who your father also pays for his help, and his hours flipping street cars to sell on the other side of the shop— all three of their automotive technology degrees from college being put to work constantly. shoko’s exhausting 12-hour shifts at the hospital, usually during the late hours of the night. god, even satoru, who probably poured a significant amount of his father’s bank account into this gift to make up for his constant loitering.

the nissan silvia s15 spec-r, used but practically in mint condition with only 2,500 miles on it. a 4-cylinder turbo engine with horsepower up to 250. a 6 speed transmission, of course, and 274 newton-meters of torque.

it’s fucking beautiful.

it’s yours.

✰✰✰✰✰

it’s deep into the night when suguru, satoru, and shoko step outside for a cigarette. your papa has already gone to bed and the rest of the phantoms are gone. you had made sure to thank each and every one of them before they left. most stayed close during the evening, taking turns watching papa and kento guiding you through the foreign engine and its components.

it was just you and kento now, gently wiping down the sparkling red paint with soft towels in the peaceful silence of the garage. you sit on the concrete, getting the low corners of the nose while he leans over the hood, carefully erasing any fingerprints and dust.

“it’s quite the ride,” kento says quietly. his eyes droop with exhaustion from running around all day with papa and satoru to get the silvia in time.

“it really is," you smile. "thank you so much again, ken."

“you’ll be cruising along with us now,” he adds. “no need to ride in our passenger seats anymore like you used to.”

you can’t help but giggle, floating high and light through your sleepiness with the liquor and adrenaline of today. you think of all the times you’ve rode shotgun with each of the boys growing up, clutching onto the handles as they’d fly around just to make you shriek with happiness. it almost makes you want to cry, knowing those innocent days have ended, but you blink away the tears.

“i’ll still hop in with you every so often, don’t worry,” but kento doesn’t respond at first, instead he crouches down to your level.

“y/n, you should know that…” his voice is low, barely above a whisper as he pauses to glance at the cracked door. in the second of silence, you can hear your brother’s voice outside. kento’s brown eyes turn back and bore into you with insane intensity.

“…i saw you yesterday.”

he sees the confusion in your face. yesterday? wait—

“with takuma ino.”

fuck.

“…y-you did?” your voice shakes. you internally panic, you don’t know what to say.

“at the skate park, didn’t i?”

oh, he’s got you now. you hesitate in how to respond, but then silently nod your head. you’ve never lied to kento, and you won’t start now.

“i thought so.”

“i’m sorry…” you whisper. your heart pounds so loudly in your chest that you’re afraid kento can hear it. his eyes soften just the slightest bit.

“you didn’t know i live in that area as well, didn’t you?” his question sounds more like a statement. you shake your head, frightful tears forming in your eyes. you can’t even imagine the angry words your brother will chastise you with when he finds out, or worse, the angry fists he'd throw at takuma. “calm down. i’m not going to tell suguru.”

“you’re not?”

“no. it’s not my business.”

he stands up on his feet once more. you swallow harshly, willing the blush on your cheeks and the beating in your chest to calm down. kento has never scared you, but as you look up at his towering stance from the floor, you’re nothing but intimidated.

“but you will tell him when the time is right. and you will be careful around ino and the shadows. do you understand?”

“i understand,” you manage to croak out. you feel like you’re being disciplined by your father, or maybe your high school principle. kento just nods and motions for you to stand up beside him.

“you will also drive safely and responsibly with this new car,” his finger taps the hood. “only your father and i are allowed to tune this engine. if you get in an accident, it will be because of your driving. i will not allow this motor to fail on you under any circumstances whatsoever. if there is even a speck of dust positioned incorrectly on this motor, i will not allow you to race. do you understand?”

“yes, i understand.”

“i know your brother has told you about what happened to yu. i won’t allow anything like that to happen to you,” his face changes ever so slightly, an unreadable expression. your heart skips a beat, you know all about what happened to yu haibara.

you’ve seen glimpses of the burn marks on kento’s side, the ones from him pulling his childhood friend from a blazing car. yu haibara didn’t stand a chance, he had died in the initial wreck before the engine even caught on fire. kento had crawled out of the passenger seat, bones snapped in half and stabbing through his skin, before crawling back in when he realized yu hadn’t come out yet. bleeding and broken, he had cradled yu’s lifeless body on the touge of mount fuji until help finally came to him. kento has never raced since.

“thank you, ken,” you whisper. you know he's dead serious, he would never say such a thing if he didn't truly and absolutely mean it.

kento pulls you in for a swallowing hug, the musk of his cologne filling your lungs as he wraps you into his chest.

“damn,” you turn at satoru’s teasing voice. “someone take a picture, ken’s showing emotion.”

the trio enters the garage with drowsy faces, reeking of tobacco. kento lets go, you pray they only caught the last part of your conversation.

“all cleaned up, huh?” suguru whistles.

your brother steps between you to lean over and closely inspect the glowing red paint, kento stands stiffly on the other side of him. you glance at him. he has a soft, knowing look in his eyes, and dimples emerge in his cheeks as he puts on gentle smile. you have complete trust in knowing that kento will keep your secret safe as he opens his mouth to speak.

“yeah. all cleaned up.”

✰✰✰✰✰

all week long, you wake up early and stay up late. the boys work with you every day while your papa tinkers alongside you between his own clients. shoko stops by after her shifts for a beer and cigarette to watch the boys work.

the first engine modifications include a better cold air intake and exhaust, while kento insists that he reprograms the ecu so your throttle response is absolutely perfect. suguru orders brand new coilovers while satoru and your papa lightly argue over which strut and sway bars will be best for you.

the five of you spend an entire day on new tires and cambers until the angle is exactly the way you want it, and another few days installing a gorgeous wide body kit for the wheels. papa focuses on replacing the stock clutch and gear shifter. kento helps you with the brake calipers and pads. you thought you knew plenty about cars and motors, but each hour you feel like you’re being introduced to a new component or tool that you didn’t know existed.

at the end of every night, you’re leaning against the shower wall with sleepy eyes trying to scrub the grease and oil from the crevices of your skin and the bed of your fingernails. you’re not sure the dark smell of the motor will ever leave your hair, but you slide into your bed light-headed and happy knowing your family loves you enough to provide so much for you.

you don’t talk to takuma much as week passes, only a few messages here and there. you’re too busy feeling filthy with guilt every time the boys open up a box of brand new parts for your car. but every time you start to say something, someone is shushing you. you know how expensive each part is, and on top of the expense of the car… you feel sick to your stomach just thinking about how many digits follow the dollar sign.

although you’ve taken your new silvia for a few spins, you’re itching to get out to the mountain as the week comes to an end and the car comes closer to completion. it’s all you’ve wanted to do all summer, all you’ve wanted to do for years, and now you finally have your very own vehicle to do so.

the large door of the garage is wide open and the sun is setting, shooting rays of gold into the garage and over the silvia. warm summer breezes sift through the shop. suguru talks you through properly applying a sticker on your back windshield. it’s the same one you’ve seen on all the boys’ cars; a bright white hooded ghost figure with glowing red eyes— a phantom. when you’re finished wiping it down, your brother ruffles your hair and smiles.

“let’s go to mount hakone.”

you truly couldn’t be happier. there’s no races tonight, but there’s still a few scattered cars hanging out around the straight. a few of them take casual passes through the mountain, but nothing high stakes. you recognize a few familiar phantom faces and make sure to take the time to greet them and show them your finished project, thanking them incessantly for helping your family purchase the silvia until they’re practically begging you to stop.

everyone shows respect when suguru announces he wants you to have a turn through alone. they stay back on the shoulder to wait until you come back through again, giving you supportive words as you start warming up the engine. suguru hands you the black helmet from the passenger seat for the nth time.

“where did you even get this?” you ask him as you pull it over your hair. “you’ve never even owned a motorcycle.”

“it’s for your safety,” he reaches over to make sure the chinstrap is tight enough.

“i asked where, not why,” you giggle.

“i don’t even remember. it’s been laying around in my closet for a while.”

“it’s a cool helmet! practically brand new.”

“you’re the only one to wear it.”

you fasten your new seatbelt across your chest, a red racing harness that matches the maroon paint of the silvia. suguru does the same before pulling on your straps once more.

“i got it!” you whine. “it’s tight enough.”

“i just need to be sure,” he settles back in the passenger seat. “let’s run it.”

you press the gas, making the glistening new tires spin in place against the rough concrete until your gut tells you they’re sticky enough. your foot lifts from the brake, and the car is set free. your mind thinks of nothing except redlining the engine and the upcoming turn the entire way through.

your mind has made friends with each bend, rock, and tree along the path. every time you come to mount hakone, your confident builds higher and higher. and with the silvia now in your control, you’re raring to go. each day that passes means your time in japan is getting shorter, and you want— no, need— to get faster.

back at the straight, suguru whistles as you pull the handbrake for the final time and take out the key. the engine stands still and hot, you can hear the faint tick tick ticking under the hood as you tear off the constricting helmet. your hair sticks to your forehead, damp with sweat, as you try and catch your breathe. suguru shows you his phone screen.

8:42:35

it’s nowhere close to suguru’s. although unofficial because of its illegality, all the street racers in tokyo know that your brother holds the fastest time at mount hakone— 6:48:02.

“8 minutes?” you whine, even though it’s a whopping 5 seconds faster than the last pass you completed.

“this is an insanely good time,” suguru chuckles.

“no it’s not! it’s over 2 minutes slower than you.”

“relax, clutch—”

“—and a minute and 40-something seconds slower than toru.”

“you’ve already gotten so much faster since you—”

“—and a minute and 38 seconds slower than kento!”

“cool it,” suguru warns against your rare show of brattiness. “don’t pout about it. this is still faster than a lot of racers around here.

you’re still panting. you unclasp the seatbelt, slouching as your head falls back into the black suede of the headrest and close your eyes.

“you’re right, suguru. i’m sorry,” you say softly. “i’m sorry, i’m just tense from all that. it’s a good time, i know that.”

“don’t apologize, it’s alright,” he reassures. “let’s take a break.”

you pull your car to the shoulder and practically kick open the door to get out. although the icy air you had blasting during the race kept your skin cool, the cool mountain air made you feel as if you could actually breathe again. a handful of phantoms come over to you, complimenting your improving time and suggesting helpful tips while another round of racers loudly speed into the mountains.

a pair of boys your age stand off to the side, listening closely until the others leave. the dark-haired one with sleepy eyes holds a hand out to your brother first. unlike takuma, it seems like he already knows how not to piss suguru off.

“geto-san, nice to meet you,” he smiles. “my name is yuta okkotsu.”

suguru returns his smile and shakes his hand. okkotsu and his friend turn to you with a small bow before he places a hand on the shoulder of the smaller blonde boy wearing a black mask over his mouth and nose.

“this is toge inumaki,” he continues. “he’s mute, but he can hear you just fine.”

“oh, nice to meet you!” you smile.

“inumaki was wondering if you’d like to race tomorrow night, before ino-san and gojo-san,” okkotsu explains with his eyes trained on you. you look back at him but your mind is elsewhere. you didn’t know takuma and satoru were set to race tomorrow.

“uh, me?” you ask. you’re a little surprised, you weren’t expecting someone to approach you first, especially knowing now that people didn’t want you to race. inumaki raises his hands, fingers swimming through the air as he signs to okkotsu.

“if it’s alright with the both of you,” he explains. you can see the raised cheekbones of inumaki’s smile from under his mask. “inumaki just started racing as well, he thought it would be good experience for the both of you.”

“what’s your time?” suguru asks, but he speaks directly to inumaki. the boy’s eyes dart from suguru to okkotsu, nervous that suguru won’t be able to understand him. but he raises his hands anyways, and the slender fingers start to move.

eight. three. nine.

“8 minutes, 39 seconds?” suguru clarifies, inumaki nods. he clearly doesn’t care that the boy can’t speak, he just wants to know how fast he is.

“and what team are you two with?” he asks.

“we aren’t on any team,” okkotsu answers. “we’re pretty new to the scene, we just race for fun. and we don’t race for pinks or money.”

“how old are you two?”

“…17,” the boy smiles sheepishly. your brother chuckles lightly.

“well, how ‘bout it, clutch?” suguru hums. “you wanna race this guy?”

“…can i?” you respond. you’re asking suguru if he thinks you’re ready for a true touge race more than you’re asking for his permission to.

“if you want. i think you’re ready.” you smile at your brother and turn back to the boys. you hope you don’t seem too giddy, but your heart pounds with the anticipation of your first real race.

“let’s do it, inumaki-kun!”

he puts his hand to his chin and out, thank you. then, a fist with his pinky and thumb out with a gentle shake, shaka. you giggle lightly as you mimic his hands.

“but first,” suguru steps forward, towering over the boys. “we’ll do three practice passes right now with the two of you. she’s never gone through with a second car. we’ll take it slow and easy, keep your distance from her.”

inumaki nods and your brother turns to you.

“i’ll ride with you in the first round, but that’s it,” it’s your turn to nod to suguru. “helmet on, clutch. let’s go.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎�� ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

tag list // @stillnotherapy @rieamena @magiamad0ka

comment if you'd like to be added.

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queenendless · 1 year ago

Text

🔞🌃Nights (Adult!SatoSugu x Fem!Reader)🌃🔞

A/N: This is a short smut piece, serving as the follow-up to Moving Day.

CW: MATURE 18+ CONTENT INSIDE. NSFW, P in V, P in ass, double penetration, MMF, threesome, throuple, polyamory, short smut.

I'm no master at writing smut so sorry if it's not longer and stuff but writing short pieces means more often posts.

All credit for the characters/show goes to Gege sensei.

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope whoever reads this enjoys.

Gojo boastfully laughed as he regaled with tales of pissing off the stingy higher ups, Geto whisking his drink about in his hand with a wry grin and invested eyes, and you sitting in between them.

Sushi dinner with your two loves. What a way to celebrate this newest chapter in all your lives.

You resting your face in your folded arms as their banter rang richly to your ears, lulled by their shared warmth. Feeling cozy, at ease, and entranced in ways you didn't think you'd ever receive. With them, it was like you three were in your own little world.

It had gotten late. Leaving the sushi joint with leftovers in bags, you three were heartily full, light-headed and happy. Driving back home in your five seated cozy car with Geto at the wheel. Gojo leaned his head back in the passenger seat while you kissed them both on the cheek, making small talk with Geto while Gojo zoned out to nap.

Honestly … you felt on top of the world.

Like right now.

In the comfort of your newly shared bedroom.

As your soaking cunt gobbled up Geto's shaft with such ease as he lowered you down slowly enough to slide it in; his giant hands squeezing you from your hips to your thighs.

"Fuck~" His raven hair fanned out beneath him, panting heavily already. "Honey, you are heaven sent~" Geto's lovesick smile made your bud tingle at his girth stuffing.

"Aaah~!" Your erotic moan made Geto swell up even further. His cheeks turned more red, sweat trailed down his enamored face and his flexing muscles; his veins popping out in the process.

Scratching your nails down Geto's ribs elicited rough hisses from him that made you carefully lay down atop him so you could smooch him. "Sugu~" Your shortened nickname for him made Geto smile further as he opened his mouth to let you two French kiss sloppily.

The moment you felt Gojo's lean warm presence lay atop your back, his girth throbbed as he jerked off in his hand whilst rubbing his dripping head in between your peaches.

"Nngh!" Geto grinded his hips forward just to get friction stroking his balls against Gojo's.

"Mmph!" Your lips broke off, head reeling as your arse swayed in the air, just begging to have Gojo's girth stretch you out. And that's what he did, your scorching wet caverns sucking him up just as greedily. "Ha – Aah … Toru~" Your shortened nickname for him, panting needily, had his hips jolting into yours, kneading your cheeks roughly, leaving scratch marks in their wake.

"Fuuuck~! Tight as ever, sweetie~ You've really missed me, huh~?" His head plopped down on your back as his hand fondled your right tit from behind simultaneously with Geto massaging your left tit.

"Missed us both, honestly~" Geto drawled, flitting his tongue along your neck, suckling your collar bone, grinning at the red welt marks now imprinting you. "The feeling's mutual~"

With Suguru's left hand gripping your right hip, and Satoru's own left hand grabbing your left hip, you felt somewhat anchored through your heated mindset. Your hands dug into Geto's broad shoulders for steadiness, your hips rotated upwards as they together lifted you up only to pull you down to take them in further, striking every nerve ending ingrained inside.

When they thrusted upwards, you jolted forward. When they pulled back, your walls fluttered, squeezing their cocks desperately.

This addicting pattern was quickly escalating as neither man was not even close to fully truly releasing. And so, their now frenetic rhythm had you a moaning yelling mess as familiarity of times before began racing through your memory. Them pounding into your soaking tightness specifically.

"God, this feels right~!" Gojo buried his face in your neck, kissing and biting you insistently enough to leave marks as much as possible in every inch of skin there. "So fuckin hot~!"

Geto took in a mouthful of your bountiful breast that he was just twisting your nub with his fingers, now tracing patterns with his sizzling tongue as he nibbled on your bud starvingly, his lips curling on both ends up at you. "Agreed~ Such a fine tasting angel~"

God, their teething, their burning mouths, their firm-built hands fondling and rubbing your skin, everything drove you up the wall. Their touch. Their taste. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Dopamine jutted through all three of you.

FWOP!

Pushing yourself off Geto as you raised your hips frenzy in tune with them pulling away just as swiftly.

FWOP!

Only to SLAM yourself down on them both, earning lustful swearing yells from them, amorously smiling looking at their squeezing eyed, panting, sweating flushed beauty. Up and down you went, rewarding you with unreasonable pleasure and their deep enriching symphony of moaning.

"Horny little lady~" Gojo hissed as his hand released your abused red boob to grab your chin and turn you around enough to kiss you savagely; your surprised mewls mingling with his growls as he won supreme exploring every inch of your mouth.

SCHLICK!

Pulling your hands off his shoulders to intertwine with his, the squelched sounds of Geto popping out your breast heard loud and clear; a line of drool connected his tongue to your drool covered hill as he pushed up on his elbows, dark lust coating his eyes. "Satoru, let me take the lead here."

"Aw~! But taking her from behind is heaven~!" Gojo's whine as he parted from your swollen slick mouth was accentuated by thrusting in one fast thrust up said ass, having your loud squealing self lean back against his front; your horny tongue out expression had their dicks twitching.

"So is this." Geto's devious smirk was your only warning as he quickly pushed off the bed, situating yourself straddling him, when his hand released yours to grab your right thigh and heaved it high enough and far apart to stretch your pussy to go with another angle had you crying out. "Well~?"

Pulling your left thigh enough apart to drape over his hip from behind, Gojo followed his lead, earning him the same result, seeing your wanton crying self hugging Geto around the neck.

"Huh … not bad Suguru~" Gojo chuckled before leaning over your curling whimpering self to kiss Geto deeply.

"I try~ Now Satoru, shall we~?"

"W – wait~!" Your breathless plea had both men watching and amazed that you turned around to tug on Gojo's black blindfold, pulling it off to let his hair down and his eyes be free. "Beautiful~"

Gojo blushed darker, his heart felt struck harder by Cupid's arrow, and his eyes brightened with unbridled love before he kissed you his thanks, smiling cheekily as he rubbed noses with you. "Kawaii~!"

Holding your legs up from under the knees in one hand, lifting you higher off the bed, you were blown away by their sheer strength electrifying your nerves in this new angle, taking turns thrusting in and out, tugging your legs further apart in tune to their spasming pegs.

Burying your face in Geto's thick neck as your boobs aligned against his boob like pecs, you chewed on them luscious builds before biting hard enough to leave teeth marks. "Goddess~!" Geto gushed, dazedly smiling at you marking him as yours.

Shaking the bed insistently enough had the headboard smacking the wall a lot as one slid in and the other slid out, shaking you back and forth between them as they sucked and bit every inch of you they could reach, further claiming you.

The cacophony of profane, raunchy yells and screams served as the melodies to your ears, bouncing off the walls from the overwhelming sensations rendering you unable to spot when blue and brown gazes made eye contact.

Both slid out until only their tips remained inside. Then they struck in unison. Your tender flesh stretched to its limits until they reached that right spot. You then saw blinding white, popping off Geto's pec to breathlessly gasp. Your cunt and a-hole slick and swollen enough for another double pining.

Grinding as one, their composure long lost, all that mattered now was carnal release. Your breath hitched at the overwhelming high, your nails dragging down Geto's back; his pained growl giving you goosebumps before devouring your open mouth, swallowing your cries.

Blood rushed to your core chaotically. The air between you all got so smothering hot, difficult to breathe calmly. You barely able to pull free from Geto's swollen wet mouth before Gojo's head swerved around to entrap you in a deep tongue fuck.

Your hair stuck to your forehead, gleaming from sweat, you were losing composure. You felt muscles tighten as you were literally pressed in between their built chests, bruising left on your knees from their grip digging in painfully.

"T – Toru! S – Sugu! I – I'm – !" You struggled to utter against Gojo's perfect lips as you felt yourself about to reach the precipice.

"S – Same! Sh – Shit!" Gojo gritted through his teeth before going back to sucking and nibbling roughly at the back of your neck.

"Come, love! C – Come for us~!" Geto croaked out as narrowed brown eyes blazed with vigor; his furrowed brows and set jawline evident signs of him barely keeping it together.

The same was said for you as your continued insatiable clenching around their lengths had them pegging you in their hardest drive. Combined, it all drove you over the edge.

All you saw and felt was that same white hotness, wailing out loud as you unraveled. Drenching their abdomens, their thighs, the bedsheets covers. A lot really.

Your obscene wail was what set their beings spasmodic; the trigger warning, as their guts tightened in unison as they convulsed hard, roaring out loud, bursting the dams, painting your insides with their essence, leaking out of you, down their lengths and mixing with your own.

Dissolved into pleasure, you all came undone, the highs coming in waves of heaven. Wanting to chase that high, the chaotic duo kept at it, their cream coated loads still hitting your deepest crevice just to get the rest out, grunting whilst you were an exhausted mewling wreck.

Finally, their own highs in the clouds faded off, leaving their once stiff dicks now softened up. They lowered you down, releasing your knees, setting your legs draped against the soiled sheets.

Gojo collapsed against your backside, resting his sweaty warm face against your right shoulder while Geto draped himself over you up front, his face buried in your tits. You shuddered as one hand draped through Geto's ruffled raven locks while your other hand brushed back Gojo's snowy locks stuck to his sweaty forehead.

"Y/n-chaaaaaan~" Gojo cooed teasingly despite the fatigue, no doubt smirking. "Hands on practice, success~"

"Quite the memorable lesson, indeed~" Geto's soothing voice also teemed with wry humor as he looked up at you with his nose lodged between your hills.

Of course, they'd be smug about making you cum hard.

"J … Jerks." Your halfhearted jab was overshadowed by you nearly fainting sideways, instinctively triggering their sudden boost in reflexes, having them grabbing you before laying you gently down on your side.

"Maybe we pushed her too far." Gojo hinted at.

Geto raised a questioning brow at his crazy bestie lover. "Maybe?"

Still, they chuckled weakly at the night's events as they laid on their sides, keeping their shafts inside your comfy self; the bump in your tummy being sheer physical evidence of them in the womb. Their arms encased you, flushed between their glowing drenched selves, their legs entangling with your own.

"Love you two." Your nearly silent murmur added to your overall allure as your hands balled up against Geto's abs, your cheek pressed up to his scar covered chest as your own pillow for the night, dozing off leisurely to la-la land.

Gojo kissed your free cheek, using your shoulder as his pillow, whispering into your ear, "We love you too, beautiful~"

Geto kissed your forehead, smiling looking at your precious self snuggling into him. "Always."

As the iconic sorcerer duo kissed each other goodnight, they too conked out, leaving cleaning up to the morning.

For now, three being one, in their own little world, was like and will be like many more nights to come.

Literally.

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harrysfolklore · 2 years ago

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grammys night

not my best but i needed to post something for the grammys, congrats for the wins harry ilysm

gif credits to @chriswevans

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Adrenaline and anxiety ran through Harry's veins as he sat on his table, the night had been excellent for him so far, winning the first award they announced and delivering an outstanding performance that he was very proud of despite all.

However, you knew that his nerves were through the roof before the most important moment of the night was coming up. The Album of the Year category.

You had endless conversations with Harry about how he made an amazing album and he didn't need any awards or nominations to validate that he's a great singer and songwriter, and you were still going to be proud of him no matter what, but he still felt pressured and nervous when it came to award shows as prestigious as the Grammys.

"Baby," you quietly spoke, making him look up at you after spending minutes staring into his clammy hands on his lap, "It's going to be okay," you smiled softly grabbing his hand and caressing his knuckles, "Even if you don't win it, you still owned the night and I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," Harry simply said, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand for a moment, "For being here and for everything, really."

"Oh don't mind me, I only came with you because I knew Taylor Swift was going to be here." you joked, and the small laugh he let out made your own never cool down.

"I love you," he stared right into your eyes, as if you were the only ones in the room, "I know I've said it more times that I can count, but none of this would be possible without you."

"I love you too, baby. More than you can imagine."

And despite not being a fan of PDA, he connected your lips with his in a small kiss, a kiss you knew he needed.

"It's show time." you heard Jeff say when the lights went down again and Trevor Noah came on stage to announce the most important award of the night.

Harry's eyes were fixed on your hands holding his own on your lap, his nerves not allowing him to put his gaze anywhere else.

The fans the recording academy invited to talk about the artists nominated for album of the year stood in a line behind Trevor, and you couldn't help but smile tenderly at the old lady that adored Harry just as much as you did.

"And the Grammy goes to..." Trevor spoke into the mic, and when he opened the card and moved to stand in front of Harry's fan, you knew the award was his,

"It's you, baby!" you whisper-yelled into his ear, and he turned his head to give you a confused look.

"What do you-" and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

He covered his face and shook his head in disbelief, and you could only let small happy tears come out of your eyes.

"Baby! You did it! It's yours!" you said as he stood up in shock and wrapped his arms around you, swaying you for a moment before grabbing your face with both of his hands and placing a firm kiss to your lips, the cameras capturing the moment that you knew would make his fans go insane.

"I love you so much." he pecked your lips one final time before he got on stage with Tyler and Tom.

With his Grammy in hand, Harry stood in front of the mic, "Shit!" he begun, "I mean—shit! Man—um—I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone.” he took a breath, "I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You looked at him in complete awe, you weren't looking at a Harry Styles winning album of the year at the Grammys, you were looking at the love of your life accomplishing one of his biggest dreams.

"I would like to thank my family for always supporting me, my collaborators for creating this record with me," he paused to smile, "And I would love to thank the amazing woman who's here with me tonight, my girlfriend. Thank your being my muse and my biggest supporter, I love you."

And as if it was the first sentence you ever learned, you instantly mouthed an "I love you" back to him, unaware of the cameras catching your reactions.

"This is really, really kind. I'm so grateful. This doesn't happen to people like me very often. Thank you."

After Tyler and Tom took the mic to say their speeches, the three of them were off the stage.

"How do you feel?" he asked you as soon as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

"I'll give you a sappy speech later, right now I just really want to kiss my Grammy winner boyfriend."

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches s @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles

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lucywritesagain · 4 months ago

Text

The one with the pillow fort and lovestruck god

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈﹕Loki masterlist ꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱ Navigation ﹕┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Please note that this story is a repost from my old blog @lucywrites02.

Summary: You and Loki decided to build a pillow fort

Word count: 733

“Y/N, we need more blankets!” your boyfriend shouted from the living room as you were looking for those old christmas lights that were somewhere in your room. The two of you were supposed to go out to a fancy restaurant for your date but Loki wasn’t feeling well and so you decided to hang out at your place and watch some movies. As Loki was looking for something worthy of watching you proposed an idea to build a pillow fort. At first the god was confused but after you explained the concept of pillow forts his eyes lit up and he immediately started to gather bedsheets, blankets and pillows.

And here you are now, trying to find those damned lights. You were searching through all of the boxes that were stacked on the back of your closet.

“Do you have those blankets?” Loki asked again

“I’m looking for christmas lights!” you responded

“I already have them here” you signed and closed your closet door. As you entered the living room you noticed that your couch cushions were on the floor alongside most of your pillows. You watched as Loki tried to attach a blanket to one of the bookshelves but failed miserably “Why didn’t you bring more blankets?” you only laughed in response

“I think that this-” you said, pointing at the pail of bedsheets and blankets right beside your partner “is enough to build a fort”

“Darling,” Loki walked over to you and took your face in his hands, smiling lovingly at you “I will build us a palace!” he announced and pecked your lips with his. You smiled into the kiss and put your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Before this situation could have gotten any more R-18 Loki pulled back. “I think we have some work, petal” who would have thought that such a simple thing as building a pillow fort would make Loki so happy. He was feeling like a little child again.

And so the two of you started to tuck as many blankets under the books on your shelf as you possibly could. You were putting the lights up while Loki tried to find a perfect playlist. The whole thing felt so domestic, so intimate. You wondered how it would be if the two of you were living together. You were only dating for three months but you knew he was the one. You didn’t realise this but Loki felt the same way. The god of mischief was utterly in love with you, he was just waiting for a good moment to voice his feelings. As the music started to play Loki embraced you from behind and swayed you to the rhythm. You dropped the remaining lights on the pillows and took his hands in yours. The two of you stayed like this for a while, enjoying the moment. You turned around and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll order some food” you announced “Do you want anything specific?”

“Can I have you, please?” he responded with a smirk

“Pizza or sushi?” you asked, playfully pinching his cheek “You can have me later” you winked at him and walked away. Loki just smiled at you. Norns! He was so in love with you!

“Let’s have pizza tonight!” he answered. You couldn’t see it but the god was blushing like stupid.

The two of you were laying down in your fort, I mean, castle as the last minutes of “My neighbor Totoro” played on your TV. Pizza boxes and empty mugs were scattered across your living room but you didn’t mind the mess. The only thing that you were focused on was the god who you’ve been cuddling with this whole evening.

“What do you want to watch next?” Loki asked and you realised that the movie was already over.

“I don’t think I want to watch anything else tonight” you announced and yawned involuntarily. Loki took the remote and turned the TV down. He kissed your head and pulled you even closer to him. Your foreheads were touching as you gazed into each other's eyes. If Loki had any doubts before, there were all gone now. Loki’s lips ghosted over yours but before you could kiss him, he whispered those sweet words you wanted to hear for so long. And his heart skipped a beat when you said them back.

#ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- I did that #loki #loki x reader

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

Text

Uni Love II

Deyna Castellanos x Reader

Summary: You'll follow Deyna anywhere

It was a no-brainer, really.

To follow Deyna from America to Spain. You didn't have roots firmly planted in America anyway, more than happy to disappear across the world with her.

You roll your eyes as girls tumble into your apartment, organised chaos as they strip off their shoes and jackets. You've got a patient file on your lap, jotting down the last of your notes before you slam it shut and place it in your filing cabinet.

"Hola, y/n!" Laia cries as she vaults over the back of the sofa.

You roll your eyes again as you slap her feet off the coffee table and then turn to slap at Elena as she takes a sip from your water. "You are too comfortable in this house!" You declare but they ignore you, fighting over the remote as you make your way to the kitchen.

You lean against the fridge, arms crossed over your chest. "Your teammates are children."

Deyna smiles at you, crossing the space and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "But you love them anyway?"

"I love you," You reply," I can tolerate them." You open the fridge. "And I'm not cooking for them. If they want food, they've got to order it."

Deyna nods, yelling out your orders to the rest of the girls in your lounge. "How was work?"

"Long, boring." You shrug. "The usual. I had a teenager come in today looking for antibiotics to treat an STI." You groan. "And then an old granny who definitely is hooking up with the twenty-year old carer that brought her in."

Deyna winces at you weary tone and pulls you into a hug, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. You slump against her and close your eyes, content to sway back and forth in her arms.

"Oi! Lovebirds!" The voice of Laia cuts through your relaxed bubble. "Can we order sushi?"

"You brought her home," You say into Deyna's shoulder," You talk to her."

"She's not a dog."

"No? One of those yappy terriers? Barks when you're eating dinner? Squares up to the bigger dogs?"

You can hear Laia stamp her foot from where she's waiting for your answer in the doorway. "I'm right here!"

You pull yourself out of Deyna's embrace and run a hand over your face. "Don't you have someone else to bother?"

"No!"

"No sushi for you." You kiss Deyna's cheek and brush past Laia back to the lounge.

"But! y/n! That's not fair!"

●～●～●～●～

Trading sunny Spain for rainy England had also been a no brainer.

England was always hunting for doctors so getting a job was easy enough and Deyna settling in at City was even easier.

"Don't touch that!" You snap, firmly placing the ice pack back onto Deyna's swollen ankle, having taken a nasty fall at training.

"It's fine!" Deyna whines, trying once again to remove it. "It's cold!"

"It's meant to be cold!" You whirl around to tuck Laia back into the blankets. "You! Stay still!"

"y/n," She whines too but you silence her with a look. She'd come bursting into your home with the chill and you'd immediately tucked her into a seat with a blanket.

"No!"

You glance around the room, happy that your two patients are doing as you say before falling back on the sofa and grabbing the remote, flicking away from the football game playing.

Laia whines at that too but Deyna doesn't. Instead, she leans her head on your shoulder and places a placating kiss on your neck. You lean into her body too, arm moving to wrap around her shoulders as Laia continues complaining.

"Do we have to keep letting her in?" You ask softly as Laia gets tangled in the blankets as she tries to free herself.

Deyna grins at you. "She'll just bang on the door until we let her in again."

You groan, loudly before returning Deyna's smile. "How's your ankle? Feeling better?"

"Freezing."

You roll your eyes. "But better?"

Deyna rolls her eyes too. "Yeah," She admits finally," It does."

You cup your ear and give her a teasing grin. "What was that? Sorry, I can't quite hear you?"

She sighs, loud and drawn out. "Thank you for your unsolicited medical advice."

You flick her ear. "I'm a doctor. You have the pleasure of getting unsolicited medical advice every day."

She rubs her ear but still presses kisses to your lips. You grin at her, surging forward to slip your tongue into her mouth. She kisses back, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

Your front door slams open though and you break away, catching Laia's eye (who looks suitably horrified at having seen you and Deyna kissing like that) before turning to look down the hall.

Leila's there - another one of the strays that Deyna's picked up along the way - and you have to suppress a scream of annoyance when you catch the bruise forming along her cheekbone.

"It was an accident!"

#woso x reader #deyna castellanos x reader #deyna castellanos #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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neonfretra · 9 days ago

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so obviously macklin celebrini is a little gremlin, as we have discussed, but I am fascinated by the implications... do all 1OAs speak in cursive and go four legged? or is macklin uniquely some sort of tbh creature? because every time I look at a neon macklin doodle that's what I think of immediately

yippee!

LOL got me curious about the lore of my own drawings . i fear tumblr doesnt like displaying images the way i want so this ones goin to be long as hell

the tl;dr: i dont even think macklini drew the short end of a stick, i think he pulled out a whole worm. what.

feel i havent drawn too many 1oa players... how many times can one person draw a player quadrupedal????

(connor mcbugvid)

uh oh!

(goalie fighting with fleury and sway / how to ride a bike with jornton and macklini)

well at the very least 1oas are not inherently quadrupedal???

(macklini balling / macklini sushi boat)

funny enough i got some bipedal macklinis from the preseason and then it slowly phased out????? though the quadrupedal macklini ALSO came from the preseason???

(hill discovers a taste for crime / gubbi discovers a taste for blood / a taste of bobrovsky)

ive also drawn goalies with more quadrupedal tendencies? (though the hill drawing set DOES imply hes a human running on fours for love of sport. and the gubbi is also the horse so???)

(i dont know if bobrovsky is quadrupedal. its possible! what do you mean i should know . what do you mean thats my own drawing.)

macklini is also the only one who talks in cursive so far… (jumbo does NOT talk in cursive i can tell you that much) (though macklini the IRL guy also doesnt so im not sure how we got here???)

i fear macklini just has some insane characterization from me by the looks of it??? why cant i be doin some normal rpf like athletes kissin each other why it always gotta be macklin celebrini is a quadrupedal yippee boy that talks in cursive

#san jose sharks #ask tag #neon tetrart #macklin celebrini

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skele-bunny · 2 months ago

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GIVE ME MORE WATER DEW & MY LIFE IS YOURS ARU

cough anyways: ,,, water dew and delta pretty pleaseeee,,,,

There's a pipebomb in your mailbox that in 1.2 seconds will detonate. Expect it.

Where to start!! They first met in the open bay in the hospital, accidentally being sat next to each other. Just sniffing, pawing, trying to figure out this summon-mate... Unfortunately, the thing is, waters newly summoned can't be around each other that close at ALL. They're super vicious to those not from the same territory. Long story short, they tried mauling each other LMAO. They got separated and eventually had the slow meeting and calm around one another. The others tease them about it. "hey remember when you guys tried to kill each other?"

Delta was super attractive to Dew. He's never met an albino water before, just pure white that glows red and pink. Delta thought Dew was the most attractive thing he's ever seen, too. Once they were able to get past their territory differences and started being around each other, they kept attempting to court one another in the further months hehe. Little things like Dew ruffling his spine for Delta, and in return Delta would give his fallen teeth for him to have.

Swim!!! Obviously!!! They didn't really like swimming alone that much, and could always be found together in the lake; rare when not. Delta as a Moray Eel and Dew as a betta fish, they kept hiding and finding each other just for little chases. Delta was mainly the hider and Dew the seeker, just so curious and loved leading on the "hunt" for him. Delta preferred swimming at night but didn't mind negotiating with Dew to swim at sunset instead!

Speaking of hunt!!! Delta usually had the chore of assisting others with fishing and he always snuck a salmon to Dew since he knew it was his absolute favorite. Dew learned how to make sushi and he'd constantly pack Delta's lunch with at least 2 sushis rolls inside with tempura!!

Sometimes Delta would have difficulty with their second row of teeth, and Dew wouldn't mind helping brush and care for them. Dew didn't need the help but Delta always returned the favor for their own double fangs. Also is the one to help Delta with their angel fangs piercings once they got them. "You didn't have enough teeth already?"

Nesting to the fucking max. There's a little hideaway they found after spending the entire day travelling the lake, and have both a land nest and a water nest. Lotta seaweed, coontails, sunken lily pads, hydrilla, tape grass, and even small pebbles to outline it. If you see bubbles in there, don't ask. Their land one is in Delta's room as his room is bigger. So many plushies, blankets, pillows, and their clothes thrown in. Sometimes there's hoarded snacks within the mound, so they just have to dig around and not get up :3

Always linking tails during practice!!!! Delta is super stoic and doesn't move a lot, so it's such a different comparison to Dewdrop who's literally bouncing around, head banging, stomping, and swaying. They still have fun a whole bunch and always leans against each other. It sounds super cool when Dew is able to join them, two bases at once? Phew.

Spicy wise? Good god save us all. (CW - LACTATION, BREEDING KINK, EGGS)

It seemed like after spending more time together their heat/rut synced and everyone heard about it. Literally. It happened once during tour and Papa had to invest in headphones for everyone while they secluded Delta and Dew to the lounge. LOUD. AND HYPNOTIC. Before the headphones, Omega literally had to hold Alpha back. "YOU WILL BE EATEN IN THERE DO NOT!!"

Dew's always had a high egg count, now add in Delta's tentacle pumping him full? Honestly looked knocked up each time JENEKD. They preferred having sex in the tub or lake, but obviously that wasn't always possible so they'd make do. Big about breeding and Delta purring about fertilizing the eggs. They were so thankful birth control exists once they came out of their haze LMAO.

The one thing Dew honestly didn't like about their sync is Dew's chest would get super swollen and get ready to produce. Birth control or not, unfortunately that's how water ghoul anatomy is :,) Delta didn't mind helping massage the issue he helped cause, but sometimes the others would as well. Dew just melted in his hold and whining. Water ghoul milk is a lot more watery, too. One time Pebble tugged Dew's nipple, it shot out, and Delta had to coax Dew out of the bathroom while sobbing from the embarrassment after biting Pebble for doing that.

A specific thing before water ghouls fuck is they fight. Rain does this too, but he's a lot more docile since it's not with another water. One time they were in the common room, just growling and hitting at each other, fangs bared with blood. Aër tried separating only to see Dew's pants off and Delta's tentacle out, both calm the moment they seen him. "Oh! Sorry Aër, did you wanna join?" They got banned from having sex in the common room.

So about the bubbles in the water nest.... Yeah it's just Dew saying he wants to fuck. Betta fish do that to make little nests to prepare for eggs and it's very much an invitation for Delta when they're laying in their little nest. Loves touching over Delta's slit and coaxing his tentacle out just to show his own slit and teeth spread for him. Just pressed completely against each other, biting, clawing, and squirming together and desperate to keep their tails as close as possible.

Little freaks who I love so so much

#the band ghost #ghost band #rabrev writing #nsfwriting rambles #dewdrop ghoul #delta ghoul #cw lactation #cw breeding #cw breeding kink

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softevnstan · 2 years ago

Note

From the NSFW genarator

reader handing Bucky Barnes a bowl of cream/chocolate/honey and telling them to spread them on their own body where they want it eaten by reader. Bucky Barnes eagerly complies, and everything starts (or ends) with a sloppy smear on person Bucky Barnes's lips.

pairing. bucky barnes x gender neutral!reader

summary. for valentine's day, bucky brings you a bowl of whipped cream and strawberries. with a game proposition, you very quickly come to learn you're hungry for a different type of cream.

warnings. bucky loves you with all his heart but he's also a hard dom at heart. misuse of strawberries and whipped cream, dom/sub undertones, spitting/spit, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, food play - whipped cream, facefucking, petnames (specifically 'doll' and 'sugar', but these are intended to be for any partner, not just f), fluff, pre-established relationship SMUT - minors DNI. reader's bits are not mentioned in depth here so gender is ambiguous, i like all of my stories to be as inclusive as i can make them :)

a.n. hi, nonny, i wanted this to be out on valentine's day but some things in my personal life held that up. additionally: kinda interpreted this a little bit of the way i wanted to and the way i thought i'd best enjoy writing it, so bucky is the one with the game in mind (bonus: listen to this song as your background music like i did to add to the experience) -- reader is nerdy and likes things like books and candles and reading (reader is me projecting lbr)

also winterdevil friendship briefly mentioned bc i can

w.c. 7.3k

You were only a few pages into your new book - ‘Good Omens’; You’d heard good things about the story in its witty writing and amusing tale.

Bucky had been paying attention when you’d both gone on a bookshop date and scoured the shelves hopefully for the novel. Even when asking about the bookstore’s directory, the worker reluctantly let you know the book wasn’t in stock. You’d shrugged the loss off with a warm smile; ‘Better luck next time, right?’

Imagine your delight when Bucky brought you a red gift bag with four golden arrows decoratively laid horizontally and stacked upon one another with the words ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’. Inside the bag had even more delightful contents; Peeling past the elegant golden tissue paper, you were excited to find your very own copy of the novel you’d been unable to find in stores. Additionally was a box of chocolates and a candle scented ‘Rose & Apple’.

“Aw, Bucky,” you swooned, “I thought we said no gifts…?” “I know,” Bucky admitted, moving around the kitchen island to come to stand behind you; Arms of flesh and vibranium slowly winding around your waist to hug your body to his own, settling into a comfortable hold so naturally. “But I like seeing you smile.”

You looked fondly at the cover of the book, thumb gently brushing over the paperback cover before setting it down on the counter. You bit your lips together in an appreciative smile, and you felt Bucky’s grin against the side of your neck where he tucked away. Nose rubbing affectionately against your pulse before pressing a chaste kiss.

“...At least now you won’t feel surprised when I tell you I got you a few gifts of your own,” you reveal as you turn your head to usher Bucky’s chin up. “Oh, of course, you got me something anyways!” Bucky huffed on an amused laugh, eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile, and your heart was left to melt.

He nosed into you lovingly, nuzzling and then pressing foreheads together. You took the opportunity to drape your arms around Bucky’s shoulders in a warm embrace; the rest of your quiet valentine’s day was spent peacefully with expensive sushi ordered to your shared apartment, moving the furniture and putting his records on to sway together playfully with giggles and kisses, then wrapped up with movies in the living room and popcorn kernels in between the couch cushions from the way you’d been pelting pieces at one another. You needed no fancy dinners or dates. You both were capable of making a night-in a remarkable memory all on its own.

Though the favor you called in from Zemo wound up with gifting Bucky a signed copy of ‘The Hobbit’ signed by J.R.R. Tolkien himself, and that was pretty good at also making an evening remarkable. The absolute awe in Bucky’s eyes and the way he’d gone slack-jawed when unwrapping the book was worth the six digits that were poured into the cost. Zemo had more than enough to spend and was happily willing to pay off his debt. A book was child’s play for Baron - simple.

You'd only been a few pages into your new book; Having been eager to begin drinking in the story as soon as possible. Bucky knew you were a bookworm; it's part of what you two had so in common - Bucky knew how to appreciate a good story, too. Eagerly diving into the paperback and excitedly tearing through pages was what you did best; On Multiple occasions where Bucky and you had surprised one another with blind-book dates and annotated novels for one another, reading was perhaps a love language between the both of you.

So you’d think Bucky would’ve expected that from you as soon as that book was between your nimble fingers. Good luck with any attempts that may sway your attention or distract you as a whole; everyone should know it’s useless to try. But Bucky wasn’t everyone else. Bucky knew you and knew how to wriggle his way in between you and a good book.

And his key tool for that this evening seemed to be a wooden food tray with a bowl of hulled strawberries and a tub of whipped cream, and then an additional can that made you raise a brow. Any skepticism was dropped in moments given the natural delight you felt with Bucky in a room. When it was just the two of you, he was the sweetest man you’d ever met. “Surprise,” Bucky beamed softly, earning an amused smile from you in the process. He moved from the archway of the kitchen to step into the living room, rounding the coffee table to take his seat beside you on the couch.

“Strawberries? You shouldn’t have,” you hum appreciatively, picking up your bookmark to hold your page; You didn’t dog-ear your pages like some savage.

“Strawberries and Valentine’s Day go hand in hand last I checked. Whipped cream just makes it even better.” the soldier defends, earning a playful roll of your eyes.

“You’re makin’ me feel like a chump here, Bucky, we said no gifts and surprises,” you softly protest albeit with little sternness to your voice. Book abandoned on the side table of the couch, you leaned to reach for a piece of fruit.

“Ah ah ah,” Bucky stops you, vibranium hand coming to cover the mouth of the bowl. “This isn’t for nothin’, I wanna play a game, sweetheart…” The sultry purr to Bucky’s voice insinuates he’s up to no good. “Huh?” You pause, confused as you look between Bucky’s hand and the bowl. A game? “I should’ve known there’d be a catch. You’re a menace, James.” The words are light and teasing; No real harm behind them.

“Oh quit bein’ so dramatic,” Bucky playfully chides with a teasing pinch to your outer thigh - it makes you squeak in delight and burst into soft laughs before shooing his hand away. Bucky absolutely thrives on your smile and laugh; It drives him crazy. “I’m not dramatic, I’m melodramatic!” you titter happily. “Well, if by ‘melodramatic’ you mean ‘theatrical’,” Bucky commented with a mischievous grin as he safely set the tray on the coffee table. You took the liberty of pulling the throw pillow you’d been laying on and help it live up to its name; Hitting Bucky in the shoulder with the cushion for his ‘theatrical’ comment.

“You love me and my melodrama theatrics all the same, don’t act like you don’t.” “Alas, it’s true.” he sighs sweetly, nothing but love in his gray eyes as he says it; Smitten. The softness of it helps melt some of the banter that had been building. “...And what was this ‘game’ you were talking about, exactly, Bucky?”

Bucky’s eyes light up with arousal, wetting his lips and treating the question as though he couldn’t wait to answer. “Have you ever plaid chicken before, sunshine?” Bucky inquires, and your head shakes side to side. “Alright, I brought out whipped cream. Wherever one person smears whipped cream, the other has to lick it off. The first one to refuse - or chicken out - loses.”

Your own gaze widens with delight at the sound of the provocative game. At least a game was something you could get behind, and it definitely had a means of spicing things up with Bucky; Not that your sex life was boring, but something new every now and again was exciting for the both of you.

“Aw,” Bucky tuts sympathetically, “I can see it on your face, poor thing. The way your eyes lit up… Sheesh, people are gonna think m’not takin’ care of my babydoll.” The heat that rises to your face is familiar and leaves your chest feeling fluttery. “You do take care of me, Bucky,” you softly utter, squeezing your thighs together. “I wanna play.” the words are airy when they leave your lips, and the voice in which you speak makes Bucky stifle a soft groan in reply.

“Knew you would, baby. Such a perfect little thing, always onboard for whatever I want to try.” Bucky hums his approval and something inside of you swoons for the praise. He even takes a moment to use his fingers and tenderly brush the stray hairs from your face; touching you nothing but gently.

“Uh huh,” you confirm with a jerky nod and a doe-eyed look as Bucky smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He reaches for the container of whipped cream, popping the lid off. “Wait.” The thought creeps up on you.

Bucky stills briefly, eyes flickering to your face in a brief haze of concern. Pausing the act he’s been putting on for a moment to assure you’re not being genuine when you ask him to ‘wait’. You swallow around the tightness in your throat, attention solely on Bucky as you watch his studying face. Leave it to Bucky to be ready to fret over you at the drop of a dime.

“What if I win?” Bucky’s expression falls for a brief moment before twisting into disbelief and amusement. He laughs, entertained but relieved that’s where your concerns lie rather than somewhere more concerning.

“If you win, huh? Hmm,” Bucky takes a deliberate moment to hum and you shift with eager anticipation. Curious for whatever delicious thoughts may be brewing in that beautiful head of his. “Why don’t you choose — What would my babydoll want as a prize…?” the drawl of his voice nearly makes you squirm where you sit on the couch.

Your mind runs wild with ideas for half a moment before settling on something simple; “You have to go down on me, mouth only. No hands to help.” A swell of pride in your chest at the thought, you could already imagine Bucky looming over you and the warmth of his breath on your core before delving in without the aid of his hands.

Bucky seems to like the idea as well if the devilish way he watches you is anything to go off of.

“Sounds like a deal, and if you lose, you go down on me, sunshine.” You would hardly consider that a losing game.

“Sounds like a fair match - may the best player win,” you chuckle, the words a meager attempt to take back the reigns on your confidence and not become complete mush for this man by default. Bucky had this charming way of entrancing you. He did it to everyone that got to know him, half the time Bucky didn’t even need to think about it.

“I’ll get us started,” the sergeant takes lead - setting the lid of the whipped cream container on the coffee table and using a spoon he’d brought along with him to scoop up a dollop from the container. Messily, Bucky smears a dab across his bottom lip - all too aware of what he’s doing. Bucky may look innocent, but there are devil horns holding up that halo. You wonder if that’s a reflection of his friendship with Matt.

The grin Bucky wears is devilish when he looks at you; Eyes piercing and somehow even seductive with a swipe of whipped cream on his bottom lip. A soft giggle emits from your being before leaning to pluck up a strawberry. You use the piece of fruit to swipe along Bucky’s bottom lip, successfully scooping up traces of the whipped cream before taking a bite of the strawberry. The taste is ripe and sweet, no wonder they’re occasionally considered a form of natural aphrodisiac.

Bucky’s flesh hand finds your wrist tenderly after the first bite, causing you to arch a brow.

“Licking, sunshine.” Bucky corrects. “Pick at strawberries all you want, but the rules of the game required you to use your mouth. Otherwise, that’s not nearly as fun, is it?”

It’s moments like those that made you feel all light and fuzzy. When Bucky talks to you as though you were a helpless and useless thing; It makes your brain fog up with cotton with the way he speaks down to you.

“No, Bucky,” You exhale sweetly. “Good baby,” Bucky’s hand releases your wrist to lift and cup your cheek, giggling when you’re faced with the whipped cream on his lip again. Not as easy to take him so seriously. Bucky gives an amused huff at the response. “Now c’mon, before this melts and you have to lick that up, too.”

Popping the rest of your strawberry into your mouth, you finished chewing and swallowing before cupping Bucky’s jaw to steady him. Holding him in place when you lean forward into his space; being able to smell the traces of sandalwood and cinnamon on his skin made you shiver. It didn’t matter how many times you were like this with Bucky, your belly filled with butterflies every time in the best way. Tentatively you drag your tongue across his bottom lip, whipped cream sweet on your tongue.

There’s no chance to pull away when Bucky catches your lips in an immediate kiss following. Mouth slotting to yours in the opportunity that the man has, grinning against your lips like the cat that got the cream. His large palm lifted to come and cradle your cheek, the tips of his fingers brushing into your hair where it cups under your eat. Palm cooler than the average person due to the way his body ran cold, but your own warmth helped balance out the temperature difference from time to time. Your cheek felt like fire beneath this hand.

Bucky kisses you hungrily, a searing claim when he licks hot into your mouth and makes you whimper and shiver. Your fingers still hold his bearded cheeks as Bucky takes his time tasting you; Enjoying it far more than any whipped cream he could ever buy. Bucky parts only after he’s left you breathless, wiping a thumb at his bottom lip with a low chuckle. Your head is left to spin with your heart hammering in your ears.

“Been achin’ to kiss you like that all day,” Bucky confesses. Your lips tingle, mourning the loss of Bucky pressed against your like that. “You’ve had countless chances, Bucky - we’ve been here alone all day.” You defend while lacking a legitimate malice to your tone.

“It’s different,” you almost wave him off at the defense and make yourself busy with the whipped cream when Bucky elaborates. “I wanted to be soft with you today; I think we both deserve a little tenderness every once in a while. But sexy games give me a reason to kiss you like that.”

“Sometimes I struggle to believe that you’re the same stoic sergeant everyone quakes in front of.”

“I’m not; Not with you.” The words are raw, and it would make your heart turn to mush if you weren’t turned on by his kindness.

“You’re sexy when you’re sweet,” you coo, fingers brushing up his jaw to draw Bucky in for another quick kiss.

“And you’re sexy all the time, sunshine.” Bucky hums right back before meeting you partway for a small exchange of pecks. You both linger there for a moment, the kisses stolen not nearly as heady or heavy. Then you’re taking your turn. Parting lips and Bucky nearly chases your touch for more when you tut your tongue. A mock of his earlier tutting. “Aww,” you echo back to him, half condescending and half frisky. “I see it on your face, people are gonna think m’not taking care of my Buckybear.” though with your delivery, the words are far less menacing and end with you breaking the character to laugh, especially when Bucky is already crumbling into chuckles in front of you.

“‘Buckybear’?” Bucky parrots incredulously and entertained. “Trying out new nicknames,” you say with an innocent shrug, plucking up the spoon to get more cream on the utensil. “I think it’s cute.” “I like it,” Bucky agrees, shifting to get comfortable on the couch while his predatory gaze follows your hand. “It’s a nickname you gave me, just… Maybe let’s not let Sam hear this one.” “Does he still call you ‘Buckaboo’ sometimes?” You ask, momentarily distracted and appreciative that you and Bucky are able to break up seductive moments with cute ones. You’re convinced it’s proof you’re both truly in love to be able to be this casual and open with one another.

“Unfortunately. Torres heard Sam over the commlinks last week, both of them were dying of laughter.” Bucky deadpans, clearly not finding the situation as humorous as the boys did. You snicker with a shake of your head, assessing the spoon in your hand for a moment before setting it down in the container and abandoning it as a whole.

Instead, you pull your shirt up and over your head – stripping away the layer. The response it earns from Bucky fuels your confidence, the way he straightens up on the couch and wolf-whistles at each inch of skin you show off for him. Bucky always has a way of making you feel perfect; All your insecurities blanch when you were able to feel his comforting presence, always leaving you feeling loved and unequaled in your skin.

“Givin’ me a show, doll?” Bucky muses, a small tilt of his head while he studies you. “Why, enjoying the view?” You coo in turn, meeting Bucky with that same playful banter - this was a game after all, and games are meant to be fun. You discard the top haphazardly to the floor, no doubt to be gathered tomorrow morning.

“Oh absolutely. Got the prettiest baby in all of New York… I’m a very lucky man.” When Bucky speaks, his voice is thick and warms your face. Bucky is very much the flatterer.

“I know you like it when I say things like that,” doesn’t even hesitate to single you out on the thought. “When I remind you of how precious you are to me, sugar… Just how much I fucking adore you.” Bucky’s voice drips with lust and devotion. Utterly in love. It almost tempts you to drop the game before it gets too far in and have him now; Peel away the remaining layers separating you two and open your legs in an invitation for Bucky to fuck you so roughly into the couch that the legs break and the neighbors know Bucky’s name loud and clear.

God, you’re fucking whipped for this man.

Sometimes you’re still not prepared for the outpour of loving words; Still, you’re trying to remember that Bucky means the things he says and isn’t merely humoring you as exes have in the past. Bucky is nothing if not genuine.

“Keep sweet talking me, Sarge, and this game might end sooner than you want it to,” You warn with a coy smile before picking up the formerly abandoned spoon. “I’m bein’ honest,” Bucky defends, lifting his hands in a feigned and mischievous. “You know you love when I talk sweet to you, anyways, sugar.”

“You also know it makes me freeze up; I never know what to say things like that, Bucky.” a gentle reminder and your cheeks hurt from smiling - do you look stupid? Bucky would love you anyways, truth be told.

“Oh, but that’s the best part,” Bucky replies, leaning forward on the couch and closer into your bubble of space. Taking his time letting his eyes drink in the pretty sight you make for him without your top. “It turns you into putty, baby. You start floatin’ so easy, ‘s cute - it’s worth it gettin’ you cock-drunk in the end.”

You stutter - jaw clenching and you feel the tips of your ears burn. Bucky takes more sadistic amusement in the responses he pulls out of you. Plays you like a fiddle. It embarrasses you as much as it makes your thighs tighten and a wetness forms in your underwear. He works you up for fun. It’s maddening and exhilarating and perfect.

“Buckyyy,” you whine, pitiful and with a harmless scowl. Bucky’s laugh is rich and makes your face soften almost immediately. “Well, on with it, sunshine.” Bucky nods towards the spoon clutched between your fingers.

You take the moment to regain your composure. A deep breath - Attempting to shake out Bucky’s influence and his attempts to deduce you to a ditz so soon. Then, with the cold metal of the spoon, you smear a generous streak of whipped cream from your left clavicle to the top of your left breast.

When you lift your attention from your careful work, you find Bucky’s hungry eyes on you. Looking like a wolf preparing to strike his prey; Oh, to be littered with bites from Bucky’s mouth sounds like a dream.

“You’re bold tonight. I can already tell this is gonna be fun,” Bucky husks, voice low before moving into your space.

Right hand coming flush against your hip before smoothing up to frame your chest. He wedges himself between your legs, bringing your back flush with the arm of the couch as he looms over you; The semi that the soldier has been packing pressing prominently against your ass through his jeans. His vibranium hand brushes your hair out of your face, eyes studying you.

“You’re always so small under me...” Bucky hums, metal fingers brushing down your cheek as you lick some of the remaining whipped cream off the spoon; Putting on a show with the slow and deliberate lave it was the tip of his cock.

Bucky groans, his touch hardening where he holds your chest before lowering himself to let his hot mouth lick over your collarbone. Trailing down, his tongue glides across creamy sugar while littering open-mouth kisses to your flushed skin. His beard scratches against tender flesh and you keen underneath him - Bucky subtly presses tighter against your ass so his cock can make itself well acquainted and he growls low in his chest. Hot breath fanning over your flesh.

The soldier’s hot mouth threatens to go further, tempted to explore every inch of your delicate skin and leave you covered in hickeys. Bucky practices self-restraint, but not before licking up the swipe of whipped cream and suckling a deep hickey into your skin. The purpling skin is beautiful under his skillful tongue and you moan into the air of the living room.

May the best man win.

You’d both gone back and forth. After Bucky licked the mess from your chest and tasted the sugar on his tongue from a shared kiss, he had fun spraying whipped cream on his fingers.

Watching you have to take each digit between plump lips to suckle and lick the cream off. Beyond the sweetness of the cream, you could taste the roughness of his skin while he played with your tongue. Bucky even took the liberty of pressing his fingers to the flat of your tongue and holding your mouth open until you were drooling when there was no more cream left. When his fingers slip too far, you gag around the intrusion and Bucky grins.

He spits in your mouth to compensate for your time. You moan, thankful.

When it’s your turn again, you take the chance to shimmy your pants off next. Bucky licked his lips - watching you get undressed and not having to do a bit of the work but also being tempted with the inability to touch. Eager hands wanting nothing more to grip supple flesh and lay his claim while he takes you. With him. All good things come to those who wait.

You smeared whipped cream on your inner right thigh - dangerously close to your center and trailing towards your v-line. Bucky took his time settling between your legs. Kissed stamped to the inside of your calves, calloused hands smoothing out the outer of your thighs. Trailing upward, Bucky’s breath ever hot and the whipped cream threatens to drip.

Bucky catches the drop with his tongue before it can find the couch, licking up the inside of your thigh. His tongue makes you tingle and your brain stops working for a moment; shuddering under his touch and your toes curl. Bucky presses a kiss over the wet patch in your tight briefs and you hide your face. Your core quivers with want.

Bucky refuses to let you hide for long, working his way back up and gently prying your hands from your face. You share a heated kiss and sigh shakily against Bucky’s figure; Melting between him and the couch.

When it’s Bucky’s turn again, he takes a page out of your book and uses the opportunity to shed away layers. The jeans hugging his deliciously thick thighs are discarded, Bucky hiking up the plain black tee that left little to the imagination of the definition of his abdomen. It’s no mystery that Bucky was packed with muscle; Even in thick coats, you could still somehow always make out his distinct shape with rippling arms, a thick chest, and somehow a narrower waist. You’ve joked about him being a Disney princess once or twice.

The scoundrel smears the chilled spoon over his chiseled abs and for half a moment you’re in one of those steamy romance novels your mom would read and you’d giggle at.

You lap up the trail from over the concrete muscle down to Bucky’s groin - and he sighs out shaky and delighted. Hooded and heated eyes always watching you, you, you. Nothing else exists in the world to him other than your game. You feel a swell of pride knowing you have such a catch as Bucky; his thick fingers tangled in your hair and carding through as you innocently lick up the cream with a sinful tongue.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, sunshine.” the words are drawled out lazily and hushed from Bucky’s swollen lips; He’s been chewing them and biting like crazy.

The tent in his briefs doesn’t surprise you at all - you’d be insulted if he wasn’t aroused.

Still, you’ve taken every task he’s given you like a champ. Bucky is running out of safe skin to present, and you’re in for the long haul. Winning or losing makes no difference to you. By the end of the night, it’ll be Bucky’s hands that have touched you and brought you to your climax. No one else. You’ve already won.

But that doesn’t stop you from sitting back and shivering when the cold metal touches your bare nipples. Smearing a generous amount of cream to both bare and pebbling buds. Bucky is simply excited to get his mouth on you in a way that isn’t so safe anymore. His lips close around your nipple and leave you gasping - sucking and rolling the bud against his skilled and velvety tongue.

You’re wet; fingers holding Bucky’s head, merely along for the ride as he circles the areola with the tip of his tongue before pinching the delicate skin between his teeth and making you cry out. So sensitive. He kisses your ache better before subjecting the other nipple to the same torment; Bucky’s hot and wet mouth is heaven and your body speaks louder than your wanton moans or words ever will. You want him so unapologetically, and Bucky knows it. Prides himself on it, even.

It’s only a matter of time before you’re out of whipped cream and both of your teeth have rotted from your skull from the sugar; Something has to give otherwise the both of you could be at this all night - would that be so awful, though?

Bucky could wait you out easily. Run you out of choices until all that's left to cover with cream are the places he wants to get his tongue on the most. That's too easy; the back and forth between you two is what helps sparks fly.

Your fun is interrupted on Bucky's turn. He's trying to swipe whipped cream on his chest when he fumbles the spoon; the dollop slides right off the flimsy metal and falls to Bucky's bare shin, trailing down to his foot.

Both of your noses scrunch. Bucky's look of disgust is quickly replaced though by a mischievous glint, the soldier raising his leg up to balance his heel on the couch cushion.

"Better hop to it, honey." Bucky singsongs.

You playfully swat at his thick thigh, hand wanting to linger just to feel the muscle under your palm. How easy it would be to glide up and cup his cock.

"I'm not licking your foot, Bucky." You stifle the words only because you can't contain the giggles.

"Rules are rules - unless that means I win…?" Bucky perks up, and ah, no wonder why he got all delighted. He sees this as his golden ticket win.

No way he's serious. Your relationship and dynamic is very experimentational, but feet aren't on the table - sorry, Bucky. Licking one of his boots is a different story, but that's for another day where you have more time and the sweet words are replaced with filthy titles and the soldier joins you in the bedroom rather than your loving and chaste boyfriend.

“I’m not licking your foot.” You reiterate, “Pick somewhere else, for real?” “Ah ah ah, Sunshine. When we started playing we agreed.” Bucky protests and you are tempted to steal that spoon away from Bucky and swat another spoonful of whip cream at him. Instead, you pout; trying to wiggle your way. “Oh c’mon.” Bucky knows you won’t do it, the pain in the ass that he is (and you adore).

“Then I win,” Bucky declares matter-of-factly, and really, has defeat ever been such a pleasure? You shrug your shoulders to acknowledge your defeat, flashing the man across from you a bashful smile. At least you don't have whipped cream sticky on your foot - you're the real winner in that case.

“That means you, sunshine, gotta get that sweet mouth of yours on my cock.”

“Yes, Bucky,” you agree with an airy giggle. “I know what going down on someone means.”

When you go down on Bucky, he’s kind enough to give you a pillow to kneel on between his thighs. It helps recompense for the iron-grip in your hair as he guides your head up and down the steady length of his cock.

You’ve long started to adapt to the girth by now. The first time you’d attempted to go down on Bucky, the thickness of his cock had overwhelmed you. You could only take so much before nearly sputtering - and vomiting during sex isn’t sexy. It left you to have to make up for what your mouth couldn’t reach with skilled hands pumping the base of his dick and playing with his balls.

Now you can take Bucky without gagging, and it’s worth it to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head when you suck his cock. You’re his pretty cock-sleeve and Bucky has no problem letting you know it:

“Yeah, that’s it… Such a slutty fuckin’ mouth, droolin’ all over me, baby.” His fingers fist your hair at the root, every pull a delicious sting as he guides your head up and down his cock. The corners of your lips stretching around the intrusion, eyes watering and everytime you moan at the way he fucks your mouth, it sends a vibration through Bucky’s cock that just has him reeling for more. “Oh, oh God… I’ve got the prettiest fuckin’ cocksucker - a work of art."

The words are filthy yet flattering; your chest fluttering while your hands brace on Bucky’s thighs. You keep your jaw slack, making the slide as easy for him as possible as the tip of his cock abuses the back of your throat. There's a certain fulfilment that comes with being used so filthily; Solely existing for Bucky's pleasure in that moment as he shifts from guiding you to thrusting.

Your nose buries in the neatly trimmed pubic hair, flush with his pubic bone every time he cants his hips up into your willing mouth. This is how all blowjobs tend to go. With you taking the lead before Bucky can't handle it anymore and pummels your poor mouth.

It leaves a delicious ache.

Drool slips down your chin, doe-eyes fixed on Bucky despite the bleary picture he makes with tears dripping down your cheeks. Your sounds are muffled yet still whorish; your skin prickled with heat and the knot in your stomach slowly building. You grind your hips into the air looking for something to hump. You whine when you find nothing; more drool pooling past your red mouth as Bucky tilts his head back into the cushions with a low moan.

"That's it, take it, take all of my cock, baby. Like you were fuckin' made for it, mm, my precious little fuckhole. God, I love you, love my messy whore."

Your head is swimming, all you can focus on is the feel of the cock thrusting in and out of your slack mouth while Bucky uses your hole to his delight. Even when your head feels light from the lack of air, you float happily and trust Bucky. Bucky always takes care of you.

He tugs your head up by your hair, pulling you off his cock, and only then are you able to swallow lungfuls of air; gasping with spit-slick lips and a gossamer connects you to the tip of Bucky’s flushed cock.

“Cock-drunk. Like I said.” Bucky playfully chides and you whimper pitifully in response. Bucky laughs condescendingly at how pathetic you are and your chest blossoms. His hand cups your face tenderly, vibranium fingers wrapped around his dick while he smears his cockhead against your cheek. You turn your head instinctively towards the cock, mouthing wet kisses up the length and Bucky barks out a laugh at how hungry you are.

“Fuck, when did you get so desperate? You’d think I never touch you.” He traces your lips with the flushed tip; your tongue darts out to lap up the pre-come.

“As if I don’t have you bent over the nearest surface every other day; Pumping you full of my seed and leaving you fuckdumb.” Bucky slaps the length against your cheek wetly. You tongue down his shaft, as much as Bucky’s clutch in your hair will allow, and mouth at his balls hungrily. Bucky groans low and primal in his throat.

“Dirty, dirty…” His hand comes to hold your jaw, tongue sliding past your loose and parting lips. Playing with your tongue, Bucky shakes your head like a dog and you mewl. Fingers curling into the flaps of his jeans from where you’d pulled them open. “Shh, you’re alright, honey. M’just playin’ is all, yeah, you’re so cute like this. So airheaded n’ dumb.”

You suckle on Bucky’s thumb, your reply coming in a pleased purr to have your mouth full again. It’s not his dick, but you’re more than happy to bob your head. Bucky bites his lips and grins wickedly.

“I love how stupid you get for me, baby. It’s absolutely adorable, knowin’ you’d let me do anythin’ I wanted to you,” Bucky coos all too lovingly for it to be merely lust and heat.

He slips his thumb from your lips and you chase the digit with a whimper; Mourning the loss. Bucky just grips your hair again and pulls you back to his balls.

“C’mon, sunshine, suck on my balls.” The weight in your mouth nearly has you salivating, sucking on Bucky’s balls and right where you’re meant to be; Worshipping this man.

His cock is heavy against your face as Bucky jerks off to the gorgeous and whorish sight you make for him. The bruent groans, stroking his cock as Bucky watches you intently mouth as his heavy sac; Saliva dripping all over his skin and making a mess. His cock jerks infront of you, pulsing and veins bulging.

“That’s it, good pet… So fuckin’ good, yeah, you’re so perfect — Fuck, what am I gonna do with you..?” Bucky guides your mouth back to his cock. Up the length and taking the head between your lips before swallowing him down entirely. Back to the steady bob as you moan around the intrusion and Bucky groans roughly into the thick and heavy air.

“I wanna fuck your face, sunshine,” Bucky rasps out, and you stutter your ministrations for half a moment to peer up at him in the helpless daze that consumes you. “Yeah, you like that idea? Don’ gotta do nothin’, honey, just let me use that pretty fuckhole of yours.” The words purred out so sweetly, you profusely nod. Eager to be of use. Pulling off his cock, you utter the word: “O-Okay…” “Good fuckin’ pet…” Bucky’s fingers thread delicately through your hair until he’s tightening the grip. Sinking you down onto his length yet again and forcing you to take every inch he gives you. It doens’t stop there. Instead the soldier braces his feet on the carpet alongside where you’re sat between his open thighs. He pistons his hips up - hitting your gag reflex and causing you to sputter around his cock.

There is no mercy. Bucky fucks up into your face, setting a progressive pace to allow you to slowly adjust but not for long. It’s only a few moments later that he’s fucking up into you like his own personal hole. Piercing steely eyes burning through you as he watches you choke and sputter on his impressive girth. It’s a mess of spit and tears that stream down your cheeks from the brutality of the face-fucking.

Heavy balls slap against your jaw and Bucky moans. You tingle between your legs, wet from being able to be a tool for Bucky. An object of pleasure; Something about it has always turned you on in being able to please your partner. There’s no better pleasure than Bucky using you like the fuckhole you’re made to be, and he lets you know that.

“God, baby, you were made for this. Should just keep you for this one day; Make you my pretty little fuckdoll and the only thing you gotta worry about is fuckin’ yourself stupid on my cock. You make such a pretty sight, fuck, I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you…” The litany is breathless as Bucky continues to thrust his dick in and out of your welcoming mouth.

You choke and sputter; Face hot and eyes burning with tears that drip off your chin in fat droplets. Cries die in your throat, high off the euphoria of the moment and burning on the adrenaline of being used as a fleshlight. Your lips ache; His pelvis smacks into you every time he ruts his hips up. Bucky slides down your throat easily. He’s right. You’re made for it.

You don’t know how long it goes on for. Instead you ogle in heaven, seeing and feeling nothing but Bucky. Even through the wet and slick squelches of your mouth being used, you couldn’t be happier. You roll your hips to find nothing - you suppose that’s the punishment of losing the game. Only one of you get off.

He fucks your face until you’re dizzy and can’t breathe. When you fear you might sputter for air is when Bucky unravels; Your throat flexing around his cock and fingers feeling every now and again in your throat for the tell-tale bulge.

It’s when Bucky’s hips stutter and the dirty talk bleeds more into primal noises rather than words. Grunts through his teeth, low growls while he abuses your throat up until the moment Bucky’s hips jerk harshly. The movements stutter, and Bucky punches out a harsh gasp. Then you feel it.

The hot pump of his come down your throat; Filling you up.

You threaten to choke and Bucky hushes you, rubbing sympathetically over your windpipe. “Shh shh, that’s it, swallow every last drop, baby. Take it all…” He rolls his hips impossibly deeper into your sore jaw. You feel drunk and you weren’t even the one that got to ride out their orgasm. With a few last grunts and rolls of his hips, Bucky withdraws from your sensitive mouth. Half-soft cock falling and you greedily swallow for air.

Bucky pets you through it all - whispering out your praise. How good you did for him. How much he loves you.

You take a moment to recover, head pillowed on Bucky’s inner thigh as he pets your hair lovingly. You drool onto the denim of his jeans, and if Bucky minds, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he watches you with loving eyes and a soft hum; As if this wasn’t the same man who just deduced you to his filthy fuckhole. If you didn't know any better, sometimes you'd think the man who fucks you and the man who bought you a book you'd been dying trying to find for Valentine's day were two separate people.

Bucky does it because he knows you love it. You could tap out any time with the special little word you both selected months ago when your sex life began to spicen up past vanilla rocking. But you don’t. No, you take it all and then some because it feels good and sometimes you’re convinced it’s what you were made to do.

You take your time recouping. Bucky rubs through your hair lovingly and affectionately, soft hums to add noise to the space. You smile, delighted, as if you’re the one who’s won and come. Calloused fingers trace the shape of your smile and you nearly preen. Slotting open your droopy eyes, you find Bufcky still there. Still sweet.

“You did so good, honey. M’so proud of you.” He praises, knowing now that he has your attention. Your grin splits and give him a toothy smile. “My sweet sunshine,” Bucky’s voice is soft and inviting, a lopsided grin on his chiseled features. You feel like the only thing in the world for a moment.

Although you want to talk, words don’t come easily and instead, you drag Bucky down into a languid kiss. Bucky groans at the taste of himself on you, but other than that, he’s chaste and gentle. Knowing when to play rough and when not to. It’s heaven when his lips move against yours so tenderly. Your heart still flutters like a teenager in love.

The both of you remain that way for a few minutes. Slow kissing even if you imagine Bucky’s back burns from the lean and your neck is starting to ache from how you crane it. Still, there’s nowhere you’d rather be than with Bucky.

“How about we head on to our room, sunshine, and I’ll take care of the rest?” Bucky purrs against your throat when he trails kisses down. The brush of his beard tickles and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin makes you happy to be alive.

“Actually,” you say after a beat, swallowing hard and clearing your throat. You pull yourself together as much as you can before leaning back and away from Bucky.

He eyes you with a mild look of concern as you prop back against the coffee table, reaching for the untouched can that Bucky had brought in with his game proposal. You pop the red cap off and it scatters to the floor below, lost. Then, pulling yourself up to sit on the edge of the coffee table, you shake the can. You lift your hips, shimmying out of the underwear you’d been left in - both of you are half naked at this point and you’ve seen one another countless times, you have nothing to hide.

The pair pools around your ankles and you use your foot to toss them, discarded like everything else that’s met the floor this evening - save for you. Bare legs spread, an open invitation and show. Bucky’s eyes light up, and you adore how he seems to treat everytime like the first time again, too.

“I was thinking about a round two,” you purr with newfound confidence and second wind; Spraying a strip of whipped cream down from your navel and disappearing between your legs. “What do you say, Barnes?”

“Oh, you’re on.”

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heartshapedbubble · 2 years ago

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Could you make a Naib with an assassin S/O I really like your orpheus one and I think it's an interesting concept

AAAA IM GLAD!! of course💓💓💓 went nuts w this prompt tbh

naib subedar with an assassin s/o headcanons🗡

if you think orpheus is good at sensing dangerous people, then naib will blow your socks off

naib, being an assassin of sorts himself, knows exactly who to avoid at first sight - based on someone's posture, gaze and general body language, he detects potential threats with ease and keeps away from them

although, compared to orpheus, he's not passive about it - his goal is not to avoid, but to kill. if he finds someone to be enough of a nuisance or thinks someone might be out to sabotage him and his mission getting rid of another body won't be a problem

you immediately sensed naib's presence, differing from all the others that radiated from the timid manor residents lurking and turning their back towards you

it was hostile, the way you felt his eyes pierce you from under his hood and the way he quickly slipped away into the darkness whenever your gaze fixated itself on him for too long. you hated to admit it, but it made your palms sweaty and your heartbeat faster

for the following few months, your and naib's interactions were limited to sharp glances and silent threats whispered out under your breaths - him planning how to push you into a corner with a knife by your throat in case he senses the tension rise up, and you flinching whenever his arm swayed, ready to grip his wrist and dodge whatever punch he might throw at you

...it could have went on for days until the thing happened. the thing that made naib pull his hood over his face whenever he was in your presence, and made you bury your face in your hands every time naib passed by

it was just a normal match with smiley. y'know, scraped knees, blood soaked shoulders and engine particles by your feet

luca was safely decoding the final cipher as martha swiftly pulled the pallets down and stunned poor joker for the second time this match. you were rushing right by martha, giving her some extra support so she could push her kite until the cipher's primed. what could possibly go wrong?

...well, naib, being protective of martha, decided to rush in to help at the same time as you...

...and crashed right into you as you ran, knocking you down with him and making you drop all your hidden blades in the process

this, of course, resulted in a long-term ban from matches considering that carrying unregistered weapons isn't allowed, yet what interested you the most was naib's reaction

as you dropped them, instead of scolding you or using this opportunity to get you punished, he crouched down by your side, shielding your daggers away from the hunter's field of view, and whispered "be more careful next time."

someone who was supposed to be your rival, your unconfirmed nemesis, covering for you? something weird was going on

you decided to confront naib about it one day, to try and get out at least some information or sign out of him even if he stays silent

luckily, it didn't take long for you to find him - you found him leaning against a tree, a half-eaten sushi roll in his hand

"mind if i ask you something about yesterday, naib?" you whispered, him only curiously tilting his head in response

"ask away." he didn't even turn around to face you as he said that

"about yesterday... why did you cover for me?" why did it feel degrading, saying it out loud? it was like losing a bet and shamefully admitting it

silence ensued. suddenly, he replied back, hesitatingly, "i pitied you. don't know why, but i did. was in the same situation before, so that's why, i guess."

with that sentence, it was almost like a spark appeared between you two - it took time, effort and coincidences, but eventually you two started to warm up to each other

oh, you broke your wrist while kiting? what a coincidence, he has an extra pair of elbow pads! naib's wounds started bleeding again - you found a syringe and band-aids tucked in the pocket of your jacket, how weird..

as time passed, you found yourself laying your head on naib's shoulder, his hand tangled in your hair and gently twirling your locks around his fingers - neither of you jolting or reacting badly whenever it happened, it just came naturally

it was never official, but you two gradually formed a relationship. it was deeper than a friendship, more than a family bond and more than just comradeship

sometimes, you wondered if the boy crying, head buried in your chest, is the same man that once wanted you dead on first sight. and when naib held you tight and kissed each one of your battle wounds, he always recalled the way you furrowed your brows the first time you laid your eyes on him

perhaps it was destined to happen, and maybe really two minuses make a plus - two hurt people with impermeable façades broke through each other's 💞

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ladylooch · 7 months ago

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I need some unhinged thoughts about Luca and Liv

Especially since Luca is a biggg boy and livy is one lucky girl

A/N: Have fun reading this without squeezing your thighs together, bitches (affectionate) 😈

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: 18+ Content

“Here you go baby.” Luca says from the left of Liv. She pops an eye open, shielding her eyes with her hand, forgetting about her sunglasses on her head. Extended to her is a pretty pink margarita rimmed with salt and some sort of chili flakes. “Watermelon. Your fav.”

“Oooo, this is a virgin right?”

“Yep as virginal as you.” Liv snorts on her first sip, almost sending tequila straight through her nose.

“If my dad could hear you now…” Luca scoffs, laying down on his chaise next to Liv’s by the pool inside the gates of their Cabo San Lucas resort.

“What would he do?” Luca pops an eyebrow at her from behind his square, designer sunglasses.

“Well it depends. Is my mom with him or no?” Luca laughs.

“The only person in the world your dad is afraid of.”

“For good reason.” Liv chuckles, making a mental note to text her parents a presentable picture later this evening. Maybe before her and Luca head to their sushi dinner.

The February sun hugs the tip of Baja California. Luca and Liv are spending their second all-star break together sunning on white sandy beaches and dipping into cool, turquoise waters of the pool and ocean. The morning was spent sipping iced coffee and reading their respective books. Liv had listened to a podcast while she read and Luca had dozed off until a few minutes ago when he had announced he was getting them drinks.

After a few more sips, Liv stands, feeling hot and wanting to take her second dip into the pool for the day. She double checks her hair is secure in her large claw clip before strutting towards the pool. Luca watches every one of her steps with greedy eyes. She knows she looks so fucking good today. Her deep, periwinkle swimsuit hugs her curves in every place Luca wants his hands right now. Her bottoms are barely there, showing generous portions of her ass that sways with each movement of her body towards the pool. She looks over her shoulder at him, giving her a sweet smile.

She has no idea what she is doing to him.

Liv savors the coolness of the pool wrapping around her. It brings her body temperature down to something more manageable. She smells like coconut sunscreen and her deodorant that has been working overtime since they got down here. Her East Coast skin is not used to all this warmth and humidity.

“Hey.” She hears Luca call to her from where he is still lounging on his chair. She looks over at him through her lashes. “You are so gorgeous.” He calls, loud enough that most of the people in and around the pool can hear. Liv blushes, shaking her head at him hyping her up.

After spending several more calming minutes cooling down, she wades over to the stairs. Luca stands at her approach, holding her towel open for her and wrapping her up in it. In one tug, he has her collapsing into his lap on his chaise.

“Your seat for the rest of the afternoon.” He murmurs. Liv looks back at her boyfriend. His dark sunglasses attempt to conceal the desire there, but what she feels beneath her gives him away.

“Big seat for a small woman.” She smirks. Luca grins.

“Think you can make do anyway, sweetheart?”

“Mhm. I like big seats.”

“Fuck, Livy.” Luca groans, sitting back in the chaise after sighing heavily. He thickens more beneath her towel covered ass. She presses into him, rolling her hips in a brief circle. Luca stiffens beneath her then harshly grabs her hips to still them. “Be good.”

“That what you want?” Liv drawls, leaning further into his chest. Luca’s arms move to criss cross over her stomach, keeping her tight against him. He spreads his legs beneath her so she can settle in better on the chaise. “Thought you like it when I’m bad.” He chuckles next to her ear, then pulls her ear lobe between his teeth.

“I love everything about you, baby.” He runs his tongue along the shell of her ear. Liv’s eyes roll back into her head for a moment before she lets a sexy sigh drop her shoulders.

“Baby?” Liv breathes out.

“Hm?”

“Will you take me upstairs and fuck me?”

“Yep. Mhm. Definitely. Let’s go.” Luca lifts her with two heavy grips on her thighs to stand. Liv laughs, watching Luca hastily gather their stuff together. Once their personal belongings are back in their pool bag, Liv and Luca say goodbye to their full margaritas and rush towards the elevators.

Inside their room, swimsuits fall, hair clips are tossed, bags become tripping hazards at their feet as they claw their way to the bed. Their mouthes greedily lick and suck at each other until Luca can’t take it anymore. He pulls away roughly, smoothing Livy’s wild hair down as he holds her cheeks so he can look into her ocean blue eyes.

“Need you, babe. Now. Right fucking now. Bend over for me.”

Liv’s palms barely hit the comforter before Luca is stroking his cock through her folds. He glides into her soaked heat, ripping an electric groan from his chest.

“Oh.” Liv sighs. To torture her, like she has with him in that biking this afternoon, he drags his cock out at a snail’s pace until he falls completely out of her. Then he sets his tip against her pulsing entrance, continuing the same movement until Liv wiggles back bucking for more.

“Who’s are you?” Luca whispers to her.

“Yours.” She strangles out desperately. Luca increases his pace a smidge, rewarding her.

“You know what you’re doing to me with that new bikini?”

“Just wanted to look good for you.” She whines, anything but innocent.

“Yeah? Wanted me to see all my favorite parts in public?”

“Yes, Luca.” He kisses along her back, by her shoulder, then grabs a swaying breast in his right hand. His left hand comes across her lower stomach, pressing in as he drives deep. Liv quakes like cups in an earth quake. “Just like that. Please… don’t stop.” She moans. Her already being so close has pre-cum leaking into her from his throbbing cock.

“Tell me how good my cock feels.”

“Mmmm so good. So big.”

“Yeah? You don’t even need another one to know how good this is?” She shakes her head no, then reaches back to hold his ass. Her nails dig into his round cheek as she begins to help again.

“Wish I could take you on that balcony just like this.” He moves a hand to hold under her chin so she can see the open curtains leading to their balcony. “Give everyone down there a show huh?” Liv’s walls collapse in on him tighter. Luca groans, biting her shoulder. “Fuck, you would like that huh, Livy? Want everyone to see how good you take me. Hmm?” The harsh slapping of skin connecting takes over the room when Luca powers his hips faster.

“Fuck!” Liv howls, shaking as she tries to hold herself in place. Luca removes his hand from her chin, placing it between her shoulder blades to shove her into the bed.

“But they can’t see your pretty pussy, babe. Cause it’s mine, no?”

“Yes!” Liv wails, gripping the comforter in her fingers.

“Good girl.” Luca coos, stroking his hand down her side to grip her hip again.

His hand pulls her back into him with every powerful thrust until she trembles in his embrace. Her walls hug his cock and then she moans his name loud enough for the entire resort to hear as she comes around him. Wetness slides down his shaft, curving along his balls as she spills all over him. He echos the sentiment immediately, unable to hold back how good it feels to have her orgasming on his sensitive cock. Their sloppy, wet thrusts slow until they stop completely. Luca eases himself out of her, grinning at the creamy mixture already trying to slide out of her.

He can’t have that.

Luca puts two fingers to her entrance, working his seed back into her. He strokes her internal spot, then coaxes those fingers back out again. Liv looks over her shoulder at him. Their eyes connect and she whimpers.

“Wanna taste.” Luca could collapse into fucking Jell-O on the floor. His sexy, innocent girlfriend turning into a feral mix before his eyes. Liv sucks his fingers until every drop of them is off his skin and on her tongue. Then she sighs happily, flipping her hair as she stretches out on her stomach in front of him, still looking like his next damn meal.

Fuck food. All he needs is her.

They are not leaving this room again today.

#liv x luca

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raccoonfallsharder · 2 months ago

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not an ask more paying respect lol, i did the ask abt showing rocket more terran references/ goth music and you did it amazingly thank you so much. i like how it made me think differently too! i bet rocket wouldn’t like too much horror thinking abt it now but stuff like supernatural/ creepy sound better than gore for him. i bet stuff like the toxic avenger is right up his alley lmao. i love how you included reality tv and video games and just showing rocket other genres. i loved what you did with it! i feel like rocket would like rupaul too for the drama and art. i feel like like they could make their own drive in/ outdoor theater on knowhere and can watch anything in the galaxy lmao😭. and i loved how you wrote rocket w music he is the definition of listens to everything <3. i completely loved this thank you <3

you are SO fucken kind (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) holy shit i will cry now. like, just how sugarsweet are you? thank you bby ♡♡ also i am going to just take a moment to cosign your drive-in/outdoor theatre idea! this was absolutely EXACTLY what i was imagining in the second bulletpoint on this #marvel critique post. i want a whole stupid disney+ show of this, mst3k style

also, you are so right about rocket loving drag and you should fucken say it.

that furry bastard is such a dramatic little punk in his own way. you just know he likes shiny gems and glittery shit far more than he says (i have a ton of headcanons about this but it comes down to — rocket craves lovely, luxurious things and also doesn't believe he deserves them. and also believes most people who have them don't deserve them, and thus, he has few qualms about stealing them. but also never trusts he'll be able to keep them. look, our lil guy is so conflicted.)

the first time you take him to a drag show, i hope you keep it a surprise. let him gripe and complain the whole way there until the uber driver looks like he wants to scream. look, it's not rocket's fault. he frickin told you he'd had a shitty three cycles since he'd seen you last, and now he just wants to crash on your couch with you and order in sushi and rewatch edward scissorhands (you're not sure how that last part's supposed to help — he always ends up silently crying into his fur two-thirds of the way through). he gets even grumpier when you have to wait outside in the relative cold. once you're finally seated at a small table house-left, he's still sulking and snarking, to the point that you almost wanna wring his furry neck yourself.

but then the music starts. maybe a little aretha franklin. gloria gaynor, or some classic cher. yeah, i'm guessing the show stars with cher. slow, silky, low notes pouring out over the stage. strong enough, maybe. when the first queen steps out, rocket's jaw actually drops. by the time the bright pop of disco-synth hits the song, you'd swear the mirrorball is reflecting little stars and hearts into his candied-apple eyes. he's drinking it all in: the drama, the sly and exaggerated winks that put his own oversized winking habits to shame — the gowns, the sequins, the feathers, the heels. the long lashes and sultry stagecraft, the pageantry, the snark, the fun. the music, the theatre of it all, the spotlights and the perfections and the imperfections — and the brightness, like staring into the spiritual equivalent of an anulax battery explosion.

you leave him at some point, just for a moment —making your way to the bar, bringing back the sugary tequila cocktails he's lately taken to liking so much — and he doesn't even touch it. maybe takes a sip, but forgets it's there. it's probably the first time you've seen rocket ignore an opportunity to get at least slightly buzzed (hey, he's made progress in recent years). but this time, the temptation isn't even present. he's staring at the stage, swaying and bopping to the lip-synced lyrics — completely glitterdrunk. he's fixated on the satin corsets and the braying laughter and the ribald jokes, the irreverence that somehow feels like coming home, and all the while he’s wondering what his own long claws would look like if they were painted that color.

it's not like rocket hasn't seen theatrical gender performance before. it's a common-enough phenomenon in deep space, where there are as many expressions of identity as there are stars in the sky. a lot of cultures are far more chill about crossing gender lines or leaning into extreme caricatures, for a kaleidoscope of reasons. some planets don't even have lines to cross, either because gender is a nonconstruct or because it's so extremely flux that it might as well be superfluid helium.

but there's something about this kind of performance that just hits different for rocket. he probably doesn't know enough terran history to understand what he's picking up on. sure, in the far-reaches of the galaxy, diverse gender expression may be the norm — but here on terra, there are conservatives and bioessentialists and police raids and worse. what rocket sees — folded in between the blade-sharp eyeliner and the spun-sugar wigs and the gunmetal-glint of sequins — is rebellion. it's the core blazing fire of demanding the right to be exactly who you are or who you want to be, even if only for a moment. it’s throwing fists when you have to and protecting your people when you can. it's the freedom to give an acrylic-tipped middle-finger to anyone who ever thought they had the right to reinvent you according to their idea of perfection.

it's a fuck-you to every high evolutionary out there, herbert e wyndham or otherwise.

and — maybe more importantly — it’s not just the struggle. in the face of every hostile neighbor and violent lawmaker, it’s taking back some fucking joy.

rocket can taste it.

which is probably why he doesn't want to leave, even after the show draws to a close and someone's yelling about last call. by the time you finally convince him to go out to the sidewalk and wait for your uber back home, a small number of the queens are departing as well — clustered on the sidewalk like gems snatched from taneleer tivan's jewelry box. you don't think you've ever seen this damn raccoon treat an adult-humie-stranger with anything softer than semi-polite suspicion — yourself included — but suddenly, he's turning up the charm, sidling up to the ladies to thank them for their performance.

the queens, of course, are immediately smitten. who's this handsome fucking dreamboat, and how’d he get those biceps, and does he want a selfie? rocket lets them coo over him with exaggerated, syrupy delight — not even snapping when one of them scritches his ears. he shrugs and juts his thumb at you and gives one of them your goddamn phone number, and they squish in for the aforementioned snapshot. he's got big ol' lipstick-prints in his fur already and when someone raises a paint-arched brow and comments suggestively on the many possible uses of his tail, rocket finally sinks into that familiar shit-eating smirk.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you see it. for a couple seconds there, you’d barely even recognized him.

the uber pulls up and the queens pout — how did the surly jackass who steals your pillow and eats all your lucky charms manage to dazzle them all in less than five minutes? — and when rocket gets in the vehicle, he immediately goes quiet in that way he does — suddenly pensive. thoughtful.

your phone buzzes. it's the selfie of him and the goddamn queens. you lean over and show it to him, and he nods, the corner of his mouth curving faintly. His tail flicks on the seat between you, and his ears twitch as he turns to look out the window.

thanks.

you startle when he speaks, despite the fact that you usually can't get him to shut up. but the quiet gratitude sits between you on the bench like a third passenger in the backseat of the car, studded with distant stars and the receding lights of the city.

no problem, you say slowly. i knew you'd like it — i just didn't know how much. you tilt your head. maybe trust me the next time i tell you i wanna take you somewhere.

he scoffs quietly, but the sound is only made of soft camaraderie and old habit. and then — slowly, like the words are hard to find between stoplights and midnight shadows — he adds, this was... special.

you can hear him swallow. his head is still turned to peer out his window, but you can see the ghost of his reflection in the glass: eyes red as lollipops and sour candy, sometimes turning flat-gold with the passing light. His eyelids flicker shut, then reopen.

some asshole once told me— he starts. stops. swallows again. clears his throat. some asshole once told me we all had this — this sacred fuckin' mission to — to take a cacophony of sounds and turn it into a song.

you can hear the words he's quoting, and his voice drips thick with disdain — and also maybe some uncertainty. some vulnerability. whoever it was who'd said this thing to him — it had cut deep, and put down venomous roots. but you don't respond. not yet. you've learned to wait in moments like this — to let the silence curl around you both, low and comforting as old quilts.

but this, he says finally, four blocks later. this was like... taking songs and turning them into a cacophony. but of — of good things. his brows crease in his reflection, and you an see his eyes flick back and forth, searching the darkness.

a cacophony of liberation, you suggest quietly. and of — joy, and reclamation, and — togetherness, i guess.

he lets out a breath so heavy that his shoulders drop when they're free of it. you stretch across the bench-seat, and you know he's watching your hand reach for him in the window's reflection — but he doesn't draw away from you, not even when you card your fingers through the soft fur at the base of his ears, tousling a soft cloud of pixie-dust sparkle into the air.

and of glitter, you add lightly. you hear the uber driver muffle a grunt of dismay.

but rocket just smirks out the window.

yeah, he says, and it takes a second for you to realize that even though he's agreeing with you, he's also confirming something he's been turning over in the privacy of his own head — all night, maybe. when he repeats himself under his breath, it sounds — it sounds like a soft new bandage, almost. like he’d gone to check on a wound he’d thought had turned to rot, only to learn the the scar’s looking clean and smooth and healthy, and healing up just right.

yeah. that fucker was frickin' wrong.

as per frickin' usual.

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