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#please don’t go around setting stuff on fire
soulless-bex · 2 years
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glass onion taught me that arson can solve all of your problems
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skywalkerslvt · 3 months
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Campfire Secrets- Ellie Williams
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❥Pairing: Camp counsellor!Ellie Williams x AFAB!Camp counsellor!Reader
❥Summary: Your growing feelings for your fellow camp counsellor, Ellie, come to light when you both go skinny dipping one night...
❥CW: 18+ smut, fingering, handjobs, skinny dipping, a tiny smidge of thigh grinding, sex in the wilderness, 2.1k words, NOT PROOFREAD
❥a/n: Because it's finally summer, here's a crazy summer camp porn fic about my fav! Just a reminder that my asks/requests are open if any of you horndogs would like to make a request (requests are my favourite thing ever please send stuff)! Hope you enjoy <333
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You met Ellie three years ago during your first summer as camp counselors. She had strolled into the staff meeting fashionably late, her hair still damp from an early swim in the lake, exuding a carefree confidence that instantly caught your attention. Her arrival disrupted the serious tone of the orientation, replacing it with laughter and easy banter as she greeted everyone by name, as if she had known them all her life.
You, on the other hand, had been nervous and slightly overwhelmed, navigating a new environment and the responsibilities that came with it. Ellie noticed your apprehension and made a beeline for you during a break, flashing a mischievous grin that instantly put you at ease. “First time, huh? Don’t worry, newbie, I’ll show you the ropes,” she had declared with mock superiority, her voice tinged with playful arrogance that made you chuckle despite yourself.
From that moment, a friendship blossomed between you two, forged through shared duties, late-night conversations under starlit skies, and a plethora of camp activities. Ellie had a knack for turning every mundane task into an adventure, whether it was organizing scavenger hunts, mastering archery, or sneaking midnight snacks from the mess hall. You found yourself drawn to her infectious energy, her quick wit, and the way she effortlessly charmed everyone around her.
During one memorable morning canoeing session, Ellie had challenged you to a race across the lake, her competitive spirit evident in the determined set of her jaw. “Bet I can paddle circles around you!” she had taunted, her paddle slicing through the water with precision. You had accepted the challenge with equal fervor, relishing the thrill of the chase as you navigated the tranquil waters, laughter echoing across the lake.
Evenings were reserved for campfires and camaraderie, where Ellie’s guitar-playing skills and knack for storytelling made her a favorite among campers and counselors alike. You often found yourself mesmerized by her talent, the gentle strumming of strings mingling with the crackle of the fire as she led sing-alongs and shared ghost stories that sent shivers down your spine.
Now, years later on your third summer being a camp counsellor, you couldn’t deny the growing fondness you felt for Ellie. Her infectious laughter and genuine kindness had captured your heart, yet you hesitated to acknowledge the deeper stirrings within you. You cherished your friendship too much to risk it with romantic feelings, afraid to disrupt the easy dynamic you had cultivated together. To make matters worse, this year Ellie was your cabin mate, making your quickly growing feelings even harder to hide. 
One scorching afternoon, with the kids engrossed in making friendship bracelets under the shade of the big oak tree, Ellie turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, have you ever explored the waterfall just beyond camp?” she asked, her voice lowered as if sharing a secret. You shook your head, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm. “No, I didn’t even know there was one.” Ellie’s grin widened, a playful challenge in her gaze. “It’s a bit of a hike, but totally worth it. We should go sometime. Just the two of us.” The idea of escaping to a secluded spot away from the noise and chaos of camp, with Ellie by your side, stirred something deep within you, though you masked your excitement with a nonchalant shrug. “How about tonight?” you suggested. “We have the night off from the campfire.” 
Ellie gave you a mischievous smile, making your face heat as your heart skipped a beat. “Then tonight it is.” You smiled back at her, then got back to work helping the kids tie their bracelets. 
You couldn't wait for tonight, though the day went by painstakingly slow. No matter how you tried to occupy your time, whether it was playing games with the kids or taking naps during your breaks, the night just couldn't come soon enough. 
But when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the camp, you wasted no time seeking out Ellie in the busy camp. You and Ellie slipped away from the cabins, hearts pounding in anticipation. The path to the waterfall was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the sounds of the camp fading away behind you as you ventured deeper into the woods. 
Ellie led the way, her flashlight casting dancing beams of light that illuminated the trail. The hike was a mix of comfortable silence and easy conversation, the natural rhythm of your friendship making the journey feel effortless. As you approached the waterfall, the distant sound of rushing water grew louder, filling the night air with its soothing roar.
“Almost there,” Ellie said, turning to flash you a grin. The sight of her lit by the moonlight, her features softened by the gentle glow, made your breath catch in your throat. You returned her smile, pushing down the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.
When you finally reached the clearing, the waterfall was a breathtaking sight. Water cascaded down a rocky cliff, the pool at its base shimmering under the moonlight. Ellie turned to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The sight was mesmerizing, but your attention kept drifting back to Ellie, standing there with an expression of pure joy on her face.
“Wanna jump in?” Ellie asked, still grinning. You realized then that in your haste to get Ellie out of the camp, you foolishly forgot to put on a bathing suit before leaving. “Shit! I forgot to bring a bathing suit.”
Ellie shrugged nonchalantly. “So did I. We could just take our clothes off,” she suggested with a grin.
You crossed your arms, giving Ellie a pointed look. “You want to skinny dip?” 
“Yeah, why not?” Your eyes widened at her suggestion, heat rising to your cheeks as you imagined what your coworkers would think if they found the two of you skinny dipping. 
“Ellie, I-”
Before you could finish, Ellie had begun unbuttoning her jeans, stripping down to her underwear and tossing her clothes onto a nearby rock. She gave you a playful look as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her boxers, to which you turned around flustered, your heart pounding in your chest. 
You heard her dive into the pool, water splashing the backs of your legs. You stood there for a moment, caught between your apprehension and the undeniable pull of wanting to join her. You quickly glanced over your shoulder, finding the glimmering water up to Ellie's shoulders. The pool did look really inviting now that she was in it. 
Taking a deep breath, you quickly shed your own clothes, feeling a rush of exhilaration as the cool night air hit your skin. You stepped to the edge of the pool, Ellie’s laughter ringing in your ears, and with one last glance at her, you dove in.
The water was refreshingly cold, enveloping you in its embrace. You surfaced to find Ellie grinning at you, her hair slicked back and her eyes glinting with mischief. “Took you long enough,” she teased.
You splashed her in response, laughing as she retaliated. The playful banter continued as you swam together, the night around you filled with the sounds of laughter and splashing water. You made your way over to the waist deep water under the waterfall, leaning your back against the smooth rock as you faced Ellie, relishing in the feeling of her roaming eyes on your exposed body. 
As the playful splashing subsided, the space was filled with a more intimate silence. The moonlight danced on the water's surface, casting a soft glow over Ellie’s features. She swam closer, her bare chest almost meeting yours as your breaths mingled in the cool night air. 
Ellie’s gaze shifted from playful to intense as her eyes roamed over your face. “You know,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I've always wanted to do something like this with you.” 
Her gaze heated your cheeks, and you laughed nervously. “You've always wanted to get me naked in a pool like this?” you joked, though your voice was strained from the sudden desire to touch her. 
Ellie chuckled. “Well yes, but that's not what I meant.” Your heart pounded as she reached out, her fingers brushing against your bare waist, sending a shiver down your spine. “Ellie…” you started, but she silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and warm against yours. 
You melted into her touch, your hands finding their way to her waist pulling her flush against you. The water swirled around you as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressed together in the moonlit pool.
Ellie's hands roamed over your back, her touch igniting a fire within you.
She pulled back slightly, her breath hot against your lips. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.
You nodded, your fingers tangling in her hair. "I've never been more sure of anything."
Ellie's smile was both tender and filled with desire as she kissed you again, her hands exploring your body with a newfound urgency. You moaned softly as her fingers traced the curves of your waist, your skin tingling under her touch. Her leg shifted under the water, her knee parting your thighs as she slid it between your legs, pushing her thigh flush against your heat. You moaned into her mouth at the addicting friction against your clit.
Ellie's hands slipped between your thighs, her fingers teasing your entrance. You gasped, your hips bucking against her hand, craving more. "Ellie, please," you whispered, your voice filled with need.
She didn't need any more encouragement. Her fingers slid inside you, her touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. You clung to her, your moans filling the night air as she moved inside you, her thumb circling your clit with expert precision.
As Ellie continued to pleasure you, you reached out, your hand slipping between her thighs. She gasped at your touch, her hips grinding against your fingers. You mirrored her movements, your fingers finding her entrance and sliding inside, matching her rhythm.
The pool around you seemed to amplify every sensation, the cool water contrasting with the heat between you.
Ellie's breath hitched as you curled your fingers inside her, her grip on you tightening. "Fuck, you feel so good," she moaned, her voice a low rasp in your ear.
You responded with a whimper, your body arching against hers as your pleasure built. The intensity of the moment, the feeling of Ellie's fingers inside you while you pleasured her in return, was overwhelming. Your breaths became ragged, each touch and movement heightening the connection between you.
Ellie's thumb circled your clit faster, her fingers curling inside you in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. You mirrored her movements, your fingers pressing and curling inside her, drawing out breathy moans that only spurred you on.
"Ellie," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I'm so close."
"Me too," she breathed, her lips brushing against your ear. "Come with me."
Her words sent you over the edge, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out her name, your fingers pressing deeper inside her as you rode out your orgasm.
Ellie followed moments later, her body shuddering against yours, her moans mingling with yours in the night air.
For a moment, you clung to each other, the water soothing your overheated skin as you caught your breath. Ellie's forehead rested against yours, her breath warm and steady as she pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
"That was.." she started, her voice trailing off.
"Amazing," you finished for her, smiling as you brushed a strand of hair from her face.
She chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "Yeah, it was."
“I hate to ask this of you,” she started, giving you a nervous smile, “but if we want to stay in the same cabin, I think it would be best if we kept this between us.” 
You smiled at her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as you wrapped your arms around her. “Well, I suppose we could consider it our little secret,” you replied playfully, a hint of mischief in your eyes. “As long as you can keep quiet at night, nobody will find out.” 
Ellie laughed, her hold around your waist tightening as she nuzzled into your neck. 
You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, soaking in the peaceful ambiance of the waterfall and the night around you.
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myouicieloz · 9 months
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You overhear Karina talking about how clingy you are and from then out started being distant and non-affectionate towards her and she eventually confronts you and asks why you keep pushing her away, to which you tell her
Over her
Yoo Jimin x reader
Warnings: a little smut in the end (just a little). reader and yn don’t really talk abt it tbh. skipping meals (? idk how to word it better than this).
Word count: 5.4k
Notes: I’m alive!!! sorry for taking forever to answer 😔. I think your message got cut off? so I got a little creative, I hope you don’t mind :). If you do, I can still cut out a few things n stuff. anyways, merry early christmas ig ^^ ps: I also didn’t know if this was supposed to be smut, so I only wrote a little and in the end.
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You’ve always been utterly, embarrassingly, completely enamored with your girlfriend. It was obvious to anyone who looked at you for even a single second; you would always be caught staring at Karina with loving eyes, often going out of your way to simply please and spoil her rotten, showering her with kisses and gifts. For you, it was physically impossible to be without her for too long. Her absence made your heart ache, almost as if there were something missing from you. It was difficult to go on with your routine if you didn’t have her by your side. You missed your late night talks, walks at the park, parking lot dates, eating too much junk food together… You missed her, truthfully. All of her.
Naturally, you understood her duties as an idol: being away for shows, events, and photoshoots were part of her life just as much as you were. However, you knew Karina’s time was precious and scarce— which was why, whenever she was back in Seoul, you tried to spend as much quality time together as possible.
Even now, as the group’s busy with their latest Mini Album’s promotions, you couldn’t help but to feel glistening with happiness to have the four girls back in Korea, regardless of them still being so occupied with fansigns, program attendances and rehearsals for their upcoming stages and festival performances. Having them in town gives you the opportunity to join them backstage, which you absolute love; whether it’s the artistic atmosphere, or being able to understand how this industry truly works, with all the engines running frantically in the girls’ background to ensure everything goes as planned… And, of course, getting to watch Karina perform and be the astonishing, all-rounder, talented version of herself was the best part of it all. Anytime you look at her through the big screens, you realize how lucky you truly are— to be able to see all sides of her. To witness how sweet, shy and caring she could also be, once the cameras were not around.
You loved her so much.
“Congratulations, girls! You absolutely nailed it!” You praise the four girls as soon as they leave the stage, breathless from performing at a University Festival. They all smile back, trying to recompose themselves as best as they can, the adrenaline from being on stage slowly running out. You wait for them to calm down, too, before reaching out to give your girlfriend a big hug, in hopes to express yourself through your touches. You mean to tell her how wonderful she had done, but she ends the hug quickly, although her smile still lingers.
“I’m all sweaty, Y/n.” She explains, which you nod and take a step back to give her space. The two of you walk side by side, towards the big dressing room. “I don’t want you to get dirty, too.”
You shrug, trying to hide the uncomfortable feeling that stood on your heart, with the lack of her touches. You understood, though. Karina’s just taking care of you, like the sweet girlfriend she is. So you follow her, without complaints, even though all you want is to jump from excitement and tell her how perfectly she performed, setting the public on fire. Instead, you force yourself to stay still and calm down, laying with the others on the couch as you watch them change into normal clothes and relax.
-
The cafe’s atmosphere is cozy and calm, a much-needed contrast for the girls after a whole morning of practicing at the company. The place’s barely occupied— lunch break is nearly over for most of the workers— and the only sounds that can be heard are the wind’s peaceful breeze and the girl’s voices, engaged in a nonchalant gossip.
“I’m so hungry.” Winter complains, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder. You all chuckle at the sight; she’s too cute, even when she’s whiny.
“Me too.” You nod, and reach out for your girlfriend’s arm, tugging it slightly to steal her attention from Ning’s excited storytelling. It takes a few moments, but she finally hums, acknowledging you. “Love, do you think the food will take long? I need to use the restroom, but I’ll wait if it’s coming soon.”
Karina frowns, looking behind you for a few seconds. After examining the balcony, she seems to think otherwise. “It might take quite a while, still. We’ve ordered a lot, and we just got here, too. You’re safe to go.”
You nod as you get up and excuse yourself, leaving the girls to their own conversations. Their reserved table, set in a pretty well-hidden corner of the cafe, is the reason you’re able to observe their faces from afar, once you make your way back from the stalls. None of them notice your arrival, too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to your frame.
Giselle, Winter, and Ningning’s faces are uneasy as they listen to Karina’s rambling. Their fingers twitch on the table, and they shake their heads every once in a while, leaving you to wonder what’s gotten them so serious. Trying to understand the matter, you frown behind their backs, approaching the group in slow, unhurried steps.
“… She’s constantly all over me, too. I swear I don’t even have time to breathe without her on my skin, as if she has nothing else to do. It’s so fucking annoying, really. Like, you remember, right? And there was that time when we were all at the park and Y/n was just insufferab—.”
You decide not to eavesdrop on the rest of your girlfriend’s conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping your steps as light as you can, once you turn around and nearly run back to the restroom, ignoring the heavy pitch just forming in your stomach.
You only allow yourself to relax once you reassure your mind that none of them were aware of you listening to Karina’s harsh, hurtful words.
Instead, your hands go to your face, and you try to focus and take deep breaths to prevent the tears from coming. The moment they start, you know it’ll take long to stop. It was one of the things Karina always teased you about: how you’ve always been such a crybaby, drowning yourself in tears for absolutely anything.
Oh, Karina… how could she speak such things about you? You’ve always put on so much effort to be the best, supportive girlfriend you could, with extra care to respect your girlfriend’s boundaries and still express how much you loved her.
It hurt to know she found you annoying and clingy, specially since all you’ve ever meant was to reassure her of your love. Allowing your body to sink into the restroom’s floor, you reach to the ground, hugging your knees in hopes to feel some comfort.
Flashes pass through your mind like rockets, analyzing every single moment you’ve ever spent with Karina. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do, your mind doesn’t seem to give you any relief, overthinking about each one of her touches, phrases, and actions towards you. Did she even love you? What was she doing with you, then, if she found your presence to be so suffocating? What have you done wrong?
Was your whole existence the problem? The way you acted, your bubbly personality…
The questions, now clearly etched on your brain, did nothing but deepen the lump in your throat, one that left saliva building up in your mouth, making it impossible to swallow. Even the simplest actions were difficult to be executed, just like it was when you were away from your girlfriend for too long.
Despite all, you couldn’t help but let a light chuckle, forcing yourself to get up and wash your face in the sink. You feel like you’re going to collapse if you stay in the cafe. No, that won’t do— you have to go home. Even if it means facing chaos herself.
And her friends, too. They must’ve been aware of Karina’s feelings towards you all along, yet they still let you smile and be all over like a fucking idiot.
You look up, trying not to ruin your mascara and risk having any of them finding out what you’ve just heard. Without rush, you force yourself to even your breathing, inhaling and exhaling in slow movements, focusing on your body’s movements instead of giving in to desperation.
You feel like you’re at the bottom pit, and it fucking sucked.
After minutes of calming yourself down, you dried the remaining tears and got up, sighing as you excited the bathroom. Your hands trailed the walls as you walked without rush, looking for something, anything to provide some strength. Eventually, the walls of the hallway gave way to the open area of the tables, making you gulp. Your legs were wobbly, and you felt too weak, almost as if you were going to pass out at any given moment. Your usual confidence was all gone, and you weren’t at all sure you’d manage to speak to them without stuttering or crying.
“Thank fucking God, Y/n. We thought you got kidnapped or something.” Winter was the first to say, giggling. Giselle and Ningning smiled too, mumbling how you must’ve gotten lost or thrown in a portal to another dimension, perhaps.
Karina nods. “You really took too long out there, Y/n. I almost went looking for you.” Even though her tone is light, your girlfriend’s smile fades once she takes a proper look at your face.
You try your best to smile back at her, hands going unconsciously to your arms, scratching them nervously. You’ve always liked to be the center of their attention; the little moments where they’d ask you for an opinion or actively listen to your rambling… you thrived on them. It felt like they were spoiling you, giving up one of the things they cherished the most to focus on you: their time. Even if just for a few seconds, the feeling of being observed by them brought you a strange feeling of being fulfilled, of being someone important.
“I actually need to go, now.” You mutter, grabbing your stuff whilst refusing to meet your girlfriend’s piercing gaze.
Karina’s already aware something is wrong, though. She knows your body, your expressions, your mannerisms… she’s more than capable of telling when you’re off, much to your discomfort.
“Is everything ok? What happened?” Her hands grab a hold of your elbow, and you nearly joint, throwing your phone and sweater in your purse as fast as you can, to escape from her fingers on you. Her touch hurts, electrocuting your skin as if she were a storm set on a windy, loud night. You couldn’t stand it.
“It’s just a family emergency, don’t worry.” You take a step back, with your wallet in hands to pay for your drink. Bowing slightly to acknowledge the pain you were bringing onto the conversation, you add. “Please keep up with your lunch. I’ll make sure to update you about it soon.”
Karina’s hands rest on top of yours, taking the card from between your fingers and back to the wallet.
“It’s ok, I’ll pay.” Her voice, calm and soothing, is much different from her previous, livid tone. She gives your hand a squeeze, getting up herself. “Do you want me to go with you? Manager unnie will understand.”
The girls nod, their faces also filled with worry. However, you dismiss your girlfriend, diverting your gaze to the ground as you inhale deeply. You’re unable to face her by any given means; you’d fall apart in front of them if you did as such. In fact, you find yourself unable to face any of them. They’ve made a fool out of you for too long, and that single thought is enough for bile to rest in your throat, threatening to spill. You can’t deal with that, not at the moment.
“I mean it: I’m sure I can handle it.” Your muscles tense, and you don’t even notice your body’s backward steps. It was clear you wanted to leave, which was mostly the reason they didn’t pressure further, watching as you hurriedly made our way out.
Karina’s eyes were the most trained, her mind racing with thoughts that left her wondering what had gotten you so shaken, visibly out of place. Clueless, she stared at your frame until you’ve reached the door. Only then, you returned her stare.
The watery look in your eyes is more than enough to make her shiver, gripping her chest to get rid of the heaviness that had installed in her heart. Everything was fine, Karina told herself. You’d soon deal with your incident, and be back by her side as fast as you could, as always.
With that in mind, she relaxes, turning her attention back to her friends’ conversation.
-
Karina doesn’t understand why your distance hurts so much. She should’ve been relieved: you’ve stopped spamming her phone with updates of your day, no longer sending thousands of pictures and videos of things that, according to you, reminded you of herself. She doesn’t have to deal with your constant neediness, nor does she have to reassure you that you were loved, and she missed you. It’s all she’s ever wanted— to not be disturbed at all, being able to focus on work and just have a good time, overall.
Instead, she feels awful; as if something’s missing. Everything feels wrong; she’s unable to concentrate at all, her skin itches and her thoughts constantly linger on you, wondering.
“Hey, Jimin unnie.” Ning looks up from the ground, stretching herself out on the floor. “Is Y/n coming soon? She always brings the best snacks.” Resting on the couch, Karina lets out a long sigh, looking at the clock displayed above the dance room’s door.
“She’s not stopping by to watch us today.” The oldest explains, shrugging. She tries as hard as she can not to sound affected by it. “It’s Nutcracker season. She’s rehearsing until late, most likely.”
“Most likely? Haven’t you talked to her today to know that?”
Giselle’s sharp tone hurt, specially since Karina’s phone was currently burning in her pocket, with a lot of unread messages she had sent you. Karina twists her fingers to prevent herself from putting her hands on her face, in a tired manner. “No, I haven’t. Like I said, she’s busy. We haven’t talked much since this morning.”
“Wow, this is serious, then.” Giselle’s lips turn into a smirk, as she brushes the sweat out of her face. “Y/n’s never missed a pre-comeback rehearsal of ours. Like, literally never. Not even if she had her own rehearsals to attend. Have you ever attended any of hers, by the way?”
Karina grits her teeth. She knows Giselle means well: she’s friends with you, and is simply curious. Knowing that doesn’t keep the girl from wanting to punch the Uchinaga for annoying her, though. With the engines running inside her head, Karina tries her best to focus on exhausting her body, in hopes of having the burning sensation ease her troubled mind. Still, she couldn’t help but constantly wonder what was going on in with you. Why were you suddenly so distant?
The questions clouded her head, making it difficult to focus on the choreography they were learning. It seems like she wasn’t making up stuff, after all: Giselle’s questions made it clear you were different, weirdly so.
Nodding, Karina added, “Yeah. It’s not like herself at all.”
Giselle meant to continue the conversation, but the dark look Karina shoots her is enough to get the Uchinaga to gulp, focusing back on her movements, along with the melody of their upcoming song. It was none of her business, anyway.
Once the girls make their way back to the dorms, Karina decides she’s had enough of whatever you were intending to do. She’d stop by and confront you, finally. It frustrated her, having to guess your feelings, specially since you’ve been dating for quite a while — now. But she’d do it, if you were so willing to be petty. She’d be the one to reach out first.
-
“Thank you, girls. I’ll see you in a bit. I won’t be late, promise.” Karina’s words reverberate through the car, as she waves goodbye to her friends.
Her three bandmates were, as always, more than quick to encourage her to reach out to you, after the distance between you lingered for weeks. Even though it would cost her hours she should be spending in the recording room, they’ve immediately told Karina to talk to you, urging to have both of you in good terms once again.
Ever since you’ve become a shell of the caring, sweet girlfriend you once were, Karina’s been jittery; she was easily irritated and often picked arguments over the simplest things. It was clear the situation was taking a toll on her, in ways she’d never admit. Karina would die before confessing how much she missed your voice, your care, your touches. She’d never admit it. After all, she did constantly complain about how clingy and annoying you were— it was only fair she lived up to her words.
With a sigh, the girl enters your Dance Studio, tugging at the tiny Christmas decorations that hang through the reception area, the doors, and the walls. She realizes she’s never actually been inside the massive building for more than three, maybe four times. Usually, Karina would just wait for you by the car, never bothering to get to know the place you spent the majority of your time, whenever you weren’t attending your classes. Karina mutters a curse under her breath, silently punishing herself for not paying enough attention to you, as she smiles at the receptionist and asks about your location.
“Second four, third door on the left. She’s booked up a private room for a few hours, but they should be near the end, now.” The woman told her, as Karina bowed her in recognition, making her way towards the elevator.
Once she’s walking through the hallways, a big, colored paper with numerous names catches her eyes, standing out in the sea of decorations and adornments. It’s a casting list, and Karina’s chest fills with pride as she reads your name: first in line, cast as the lead dancer. She vaguely remembers of one of your rambles months prior, the low tone of your voice exposing how ashamed you were to confess about your nervousness to audition. At that time, Karina had been so focused on her own stuff she barely gave your topics any attention at all, dismissing them with a few hums until you focused on her rants again.
Now, Karina desperately wished she had paid you more attention. She urged to be active in your life: to know what was happening in your routine, your troubles and whatever was making you happy at the moment. Filled with guilt, the dark-haired girl slides the door slowly, delighting herself in the sight of your perfectly arranged frame, stretching yourself by the bars.
“You haven’t told me you got cast as Clara.” She says, quietly, staring at how precise and eloquent your moves are, even though the music that comes from your phone is faint, nearly inaudible.
You take a look at your girlfriend through the mirrors, trying your best to look indifferent. In reality, the first thought you’ve had as soon as you got cast as the lead dancer for the company’s Winter play was to call her, screaming in excitement for accomplishing something you’ve wanted for so long. But her words were still livid on your mind—which is why you simply shrug, going on with your barre routine, back straightened and arms arched. Once again, it was difficult to act like her stare didn’t burn, consuming you completely, but you reverberated through it.
“It’s not that big of a deal. I only got it because Seowon unnie is injured, anyway. She didn’t even audition.”
“I see.” Karina says. Her eyes examine your body so intensely you gulp, reaching out for your water bottle. She follows your every move, like a fox out for a hunt. “Do you want to have lunch? We can finally have some time for us, then. You’ve been so busy.” Her tone is sarcastic, and you know she’s fully aware of the distance you’ve been putting on between them. Her message is clear: she’s done playing and waiting for you to gather your thoughts and come back to her on your own, as you’d usually do whenever you argued.
Only you weren’t backing up or apologizing, this time.
“I can’t put on weight. I have fittings in 3 days.” Karina frowns, approaching until you were unable to continue your moves.
She looks at your body, eyes searching for any flaws with such hunger, you instantly feel heat invading your cheeks.
“You’re good.” Leaving no space for denial, she turns around and holds the door open, motioning for you to go first. “Now, let’s have lunch.”
-
“Is it something with your family?” Karina is the first to break the awkward silence that lingers on the lunch table, in hopes to stir anything inside you to make you stop playing with your salad and look at her face. It works: you look up, genuinely confused.
“What? No, they’re good.” You tuck your hair behind your ears, clearly not enjoying the date. If anything, your moves are mechanic, hesitant.
If it were any other day, you’d be talking until you had to grasp for air, filling Karina in every detail of your life for the second or third time, probably. She thinks she’ll go insane at the sight of you, sitting idle on the desk, with big, sad eyes.
“Good. It’s good they’re all well and healthy.” She says, then adds, lifting her brows. Even though she tries not to express how irritated she is by the situation, Karina’s not good at hiding her expressions. “What is wrong? You’re clearly different, but keep acting petty and not telling me what it is.”
Your mouth opens in a perfect “O” as the words leave your girlfriend’s mouth. Does she think you’re that immature? She must simply not care about her own words, then. You’re sure of it. “I’m not fucking petty.”
Karina stares at your arms, tightly crossed against your chest, and at your pout. She almost laughs, thinking about how adorable the sight is, but the fire in your eyes reminds her of the current situation. She leans back on the chair, motioning for you to do something. Anything.
“Talk, then.”
She infuriates you. Just sitting in front of you, so sure she’s done nothing wrong, as if you’re the only one to blame.
“You’re really clueless, aren’t you?” It takes some deep breaths to not point a finger at her, so you just let out a dry laugh. “I’m just giving you what you want.”
“What do you mean by that?” Once again, she looks genuinely confused. Before you get to answer, thought, Karina’s phone rings. She picks up immediately, not at all pleased with how you rolled your eyes at the interruption. It’s Aeri, calling to say Bada had already arrived, and she’s the only one missing for them to start cleaning the choreo.
You get up before she has the chance to say anything, with a fake smile as you wait for her to call the waiter and pay for your date.
“I have to go, too.” You say, walking up slightly faster than her. When it’s time for you to actually part ways, though, you stop, unsure of what to do. You would rather not touch her; it still hurts, and part of you was indeed petty enough to deprive her of your touch, after her complaints.
Karina beats you to it, however. Before you register, she seals your lips in a delicate kiss, one you can’t help but melt on.
“See you soon, Y/n. I love you.” She says, before entering her company’s car and being driven away. She doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge the situation, and you’re happy for that.
Huffing in frustration, you make your way back towards your studio, in hopes to keep your strained relationship out of your mind, even if just for a few hours.
-
As much as Karina thinks it through, she can’t fantom where she’s gone wrong. You’ve just distanced yourself so suddenly, and it has left a hole in her heart, along with a lingering itch on her skin that makes her want to scratch her arms until they’re red and sore. She’s busy, and she knows you’re busy, too, but she’s had enough of this. She misses you, and she hates herself for complaining about how you’ve always shown her nothing but love. She took it for granted before, but she won’t anymore.
Her palms are slippery as she knocks on the dressing room’s door, not waiting much until she’s given permission to enter. She’s not surprised to find you alone— your friends told her you were usually the last one to change into normal clothes, as crowded spaces made you breathless and anxious. She is, though, surprised to find you looking down at your hands, so small and filled with sorrow, despite having performed flawlessly not even an hour ago.
You’re surrounded by stuffed animals, letters, and gifts from your friends and family, yet it still seems so… empty. And you know what’s lacking.
The girl standing by the door knows it, too.
“You looked beautiful on the stage tonight.” Karina says, carefully placing the huge bouquet she bought you on the empty part of the table, the one your hands rest. “As always. My beauty.”
You nod, gripping your chair as you try to ground yourself. Even your body navigated towards her; it was hard not to run into her arms and forget how hurt you were.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” You truly didn’t, even though you had sent invites to her and the girls, they were always so busy— they’ve never attended, before.
It’s Karina’s turn to be hesitant — now. Trapping her hands in her pockets, she adds. “I don’t want to be absent from your life anymore.” The statement, all you’ve wanted to hear for so, so long, makes your heart nearly joint. You try to speak, but she’s still immersed in her words. “I miss you. And I have no fucking clue of why you’ve been so distant lately, but I miss your laugh, your touches—fuck, I miss everything about you. I know I’ve been so fucking selfish, and I’ve never realized you were the only one making efforts for us for so long.” You’re still looking at her through the mirror when she places her head on your shoulders, hands playing with your leotard’s thin strap to have something to occupy herself with. “I’m sorry.”
You gulp, looking at the beautiful flowers she got you. Being without Karina had turned you into a mess, but you still feel just as uneasy in her presence. No matter how much you try, you can’t seem to forget her words. How irritated she sounded, at the time, as if you were such a bother.
Your girlfriend was still waiting for her answer, so you take some flowers into your hands, as you ask, hesitant. “Don’t I suffocate you? I’m too much, I guess.”
Karina shakes her head. “Of course not. Where’d you get that from?” Her hands move to your waist, subtly, her light fingers barely noticeable as they brush your covered skin.
“You can stop lying, you know. Just tell me if you do.” Your voice cracks, and it’s enough for Karina to realize how hurt you truly were, by the affirmation.
It comes to her, then, that you weren’t being petty, all over the past weeks. You were just hurt, and needed some time. She feels guilty for being the reason for such feelings.
Hugging you with a strong grip, she decides to be honest. “There was a time… where I felt like it, for a bit. I was overworked, and annoyed at everything. But then you vanished, and… it felt like there was something missing, I guess.”
Her face is all red from the confession, making you smile. It’s a rare occurrence, for Karina to talk about her feelings, and even more for her to confess anything. It’s the real proof she missed you; the girl’s willingness to be vulnerable, even if for a small moment.
You missed her so, so much. As always you’re the first to give in, no longer fighting the rational part of your brain that screamed for you to distance yourself and leave Karina.
“Let’s go home, ‘Jiminie.” You murmur, humming as you feel her hands all over your body, groping and twisting your skin, touch starved for anything you could provide. You whine, looking at her through her lashes. In this love bubble, your drunken state is enough for Karina to kiss you, her sweet taste marked with hunger.
“I don’t want to wait, though. I’ve missed you for too long.” She looks at you dead serious, adding, “Far too long.”
You nod, a moan escaping your mouth when Karina pushes all the makeup and the gifts onto the ground, her lithe hands gripping your thighs and urging you up on the vanity with ease. Once again, her fingers try to get through your leotard, huffing when she’s met with tights instead of bare skin.
You grab her wrists, giggling at her urgent moves. “Don’t.” You warn, turning your head when Karina meets your lips for another breathless, hungry kiss. Her mouth meets the corner of yours, instead. You’d forgotten how much you loved to tease her. “I have to perform tomorrow, and for weeks after that. Don’t ruin them.”
She retreats completely, then. Stepping back, she places her hands up, following your demands. Her body language is relaxed, but her voice is strained, stating how she truly feels. “You better take them off — now. And give me a show.”
You roll your eyes at the lack of sweetness, but another sharp look from Karina and you’re quick to do as told. Her attention is solely on you, admiring your precise moves. You’re just as graceful and beautiful as when you went on stage, and Karina drinks on the vision.
Without rush, you unbutton your costume until it falls from your body, lifting yourself up to let the fabric dangle on the ground. Your body is exposed to your girlfriend’s touch. You’re drenched, desperate to have her after so long apart. You can feel the heat on your skin, as you reach out to have her close once again. It lingers, only deepening with the hungry, messy kiss you and Karina share. Her hands meet your neck, and you gasp the moment you feel her fingers blocking your airways. The dizziness, along with her wet mouth on your chin, then marking your neck as she has her share of you, just as starved. You’re too light-headed to complain about the bruises, being so quick to turn into a moaning, breathless mess.
“I missed you t-too much.” You murmur, drawing your head back as she licks her way down on your body. You watch, starstruck, as she falls down on her knees, hands spreading your thighs with ease.
You take a hold of her long, dark hair, but don’t motion to force your girlfriend’s face into your cunt— you know better than that. Instead, you wait, eagerly, as she parts your folds. Her other hand comes to collect your juices, proving on your sweetness.
“I’m obsessed with you.” She mutters, breath hot on your cunt. Her eyes meet yours, and she’s just as breathless. “Fucking obsessed. Do you understand? This is all mine.”
Without a warning, she licks a big stripe of your pussy, her nose bumping onto your clit without much pressure. The action, though not rough, is more than enough to have lewd, loud sounds come out of your mouth. The only thing on your mind is your girlfriend. Her touches and the pleasure she was always so eager to give you.
“I’ll worship you because you’re mine.”
Perhaps your relationship was built on empty promises. But as for the moment, the only thing that matters is Karina’s hot, warm breath on your skin, and how right it feels.
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erwinsvow · 6 months
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“rafe, i want a soda,” you tell your boyfriend from your comfortable seat, settled under your blanket waiting for the movie to start. rafe’s talking to kelce and topper about something quietly, adjusting his backwards cap and staring straight ahead—at people you recognize as the pogues he’s been terrorizing as of late. you rise from your position, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. kelce and topper stop talking, getting into their chairs when rafe turns to talk to you.
“yes, princess? what now?” 
you should be good—rafe always tell you to keep your nose out of his business stuff, especially when he’s making his rounds at a party trying to sell coke. you usually always comply anyways, not asking questions since the first time and not caring either, as long he swears he’s safe and not doing as much of the stuff as he used to—but this isn’t about his business. you can tell there’s something going on with those pogues and he’s planning something that you want to make him stop.
“movie’s starting. and i want a soda.” 
“kelce, give her your soda,” rafe says, turning back around to finish his conversation, when you interrupt. you shake your head at kelce, who holds the pepsi can in his hand, stopping right as he was about to toss it to you.
“it’s not diet, rafe,” you comment with a sweet smile, hoping you can distract him from whatever he’s trying to talk about with his boys.
“really kid? i think you’ll be fine-”
“please, rafe?” you interrupt again, pouting. he shouldn’t have given up so easily—but your pout is one of those things he can’t resist. 
“pain in my ass, kid, really.” you smile at rafe, thanking him while he grumbles. “you better sit tight and watch this stupid movie after this-”
“popcorn too! do you guys want anything?” you turn, asking kelce and topper.
“all good, thanks princess.” you crinkle your nose and turn back, not really liking it when anyone but rafe addresses you like that—it feels like a joke when they say it.
rafe comes back with your stuff, handing it to you with a roll of his eyes, but you notice he’s smiling when you thank him. you curl up next to him on the same chair, head on his chest trying to watch the movie. you notice he’ll turn to look at kelce and topper, and then the pogues sitting ahead of you. 
each time he starts looking, you try to distract him, bringing your straw or a piece of popcorn up to his mouth, and then he looks down at you instead, with a sweet smile and a kiss to the top of your head. 
you should have guessed it would only work for so long—the two pogue boys get up and the three boys with you rise instantly too. in a desperate attempt to keep him with you, you drop the soda onto the grass and call to your boyfriend before he gets too far.
“rafe, uhm, this spilled so i need a new one-”
“one minute, princess, i’ll be right back-”
“no, rafe, wait-” but he’s gone before you can say or do anything else.
you sit in the lawn chair, too distracted to focus on the movie, worried about what rafe is gonna do to them. it’s only a few minutes later that you hear screaming, and look up to see the entire projector screen aflame. you get up immediately, panicking at the horde of people trying to get away, when you take a step backwards and bump into something hard. you yelp, but familiar hands hold you hard and guide you out back to the parking lot, hands that can only belong to your boyfriend.
you don’t get a clear look at rafe until he parks at tannyhill—a pink and red lesion on his cheek that wasn’t there before. 
“rafe, your face-”
“kid, why d’you think i’m trying to take care of business with these pogues? huh?” you’re silent, not able to compose any kind of answer that would make sense. 
“i-i don’t-”
“exactly. you don’t know. these, these pogues? they’re fuckin’ crazy. they held a gun to top’s head. they set that fire, not carin’ who would get hurt.” he watches you stare at him with big eyes and parted lips, taking in everything he’s saying. he knows it’s a little manipulative, not giving you any context or telling you he caved in pope’s face with a nine-iron. you’re listening, and paying attention, finally. “let you get away with a lot of stuff, kid. don’t make me regret it.” 
like he doesn’t know why you make him go buy soda or try to distract him with a kiss at the beach or at the club. he brushes it aside because he likes to let you think you’re getting away with it.
“have you learned your lesson about interferin’?” you nod eagerly. “good girl. now c’mon.” he takes you upstairs to his bedroom and lets you apologize down on your knees.
“good fuckin’ girl-” is what comes out of rafe’s mouth when you settle infront of him, on your knees, hands unbuckling his belt. he repeats it, but it comes out as a grunt when you take him into your mouth, big, watery eyes staring up at him while you impale your throat with his thick cock. he wipes the tears away with his free hand, the other one gripping your hair while he slides your mouth up and down with his motions.
“that’s right, nothin’ to say now, huh? good girl, don’t worry, i’ll forgive you. you gonna meddle again? hm?” he pulls you off, your mouth letting go with a little pop sound. 
“no, no, never again-”
“good girl,” and he brings your mouth right back.
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moonstruckme · 9 months
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Hi omg could I request Remus comforting insecure reader who makes jokes about her looks all the time and stuff and kind of tries to avoid talking deeply about it because it actually really hurts deep down but Remus wants to address it and when he talks to her she’s like “you wouldn’t get what it’s like to be ugly you (as in Remus) have always been beautiful” ? I hope that makes sense 😭Totally understand if you don’t want to write this!
Of course you can lovely! Thank you :)
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 884 words
Remus’ self control starts to fray when you discard your third outfit. 
It’s not that he’s impatient to get to the restaurant—you’ve both got plenty of time, and watching you try on clothes for him is a far from unappealing way to pass it. The issue is that you don’t seem to get how fucking phenomenal you look in all of them. 
“Oh my god,” you laugh, making a face at yourself in the mirror before lifting the top over your head. It’s tossed onto the bed, where Remus picks it up to put it back on its hanger. “That color makes me look sickly.” 
“Dove,” he reprimands. “It does not.” 
“Rem,” you mimic his tone teasingly. The late afternoon light filters through the window, and he honestly isn’t sure if the glow he’s seeing is from that or from the smile you give him. “I already look like this, I don’t need to accentuate it.” 
You do that. Self-deprecate. Like it’s anticipatory, like you’re in on a joke that hasn’t been told yet. It makes Remus’ skin prickle. 
“Anyway, I’ll be with you, handsome.” You set one hand on the bed and lean over to peck him on the lips. You take the top with you as you go, hanging it back up in the closet with a nod of thanks to your boyfriend. “I’m not aiming for mind-blowingly gorgeous, but I’d like to look at least remotely in your league, if I can.” 
“You always look mind-blowingly gorgeous,” Remus says softly. His chest aches with earnestness. 
You select a different top, tossing a coy grin over your shoulder. “Thanks, honey.” 
“No, really.” He feels suddenly hot with desperation. Remus doesn’t usually get in your way like this. You make your jokes, he disagrees politely, and he lets you move on. But the need to make you hear him, to talk until you finally get it, see how obsessed he is with you, has been building. If there’s one hill he’s going to die on, he wants this to be it. “You looked lovely in that top, and in everything. You’re exquisite, dove. Do you get that?” 
Your smile falters, and you turn away. You speak into the closet, over the schwick of hangers sliding. “Exquisite.” Humor bends the syllables of the word. “You’re too sweet. Careful, or you’ll give me an ego to eclipse the sun.” 
Remus wishes, but he seriously doubts there’s any danger of that. Your perusal of the closet picks up its pace, criticism a shadowy gray cloud above your head. He stands from the bed and steps forward to wrap his arms around your waist. You still, relaxing into him automatically. 
“I don’t understand why you have to deflect like that,” he says, doing his best to sound kind even as a protective ire burns fiercely in his chest. “You’re always making these cruel jokes about yourself, and you won’t listen when I tell you how wrong you are. Why?” 
“Remus.” It’s hardly a murmur, and yet the plea is clear. “Can we drop this, please?” 
Just like that, the fire in his chest is smothered. A dull ache takes its place. “Not if you’re going to keep doing it,” he says, kissing the nape of your neck. “Just tell me why, please.” 
You clasp your hands over his, seeking comfort even as you stiffen in his arms. “You wouldn't get it.” There’s no venom in your tone, but Remus hears the slight edge. “You don’t know what it’s like to be ugly, Rem. You’ve always been beautiful.” 
A laugh barks out of him, sharper than he means it to be. “I wouldn’t get it?” 
You’re quiet. He takes you by the shoulders, turning you to face him. Your eyes drop to his chin. 
“Do you really think I wouldn’t know how it feels to be insecure?” he asks. “Dove, I grew up with giant tears and scars on my face. People stare at me.” Your eyes flit up to his, shame and apology clear within them. When they go back down, Remus follows, ducking so you can’t hide from his gaze. “I understand that when you feel like something about you is ugly, no one can convince you it’s not. You have to do that on your own, pretty girl.” A flicker of emotion—discomfort, aversion, something else—passes over your face at the endearment. Remus has to swallow against the upset that clogs his throat. “But do you think you could try talking about yourself more kindly? For me, if not for you. It hurts to hear you being so cruel to someone I care about,” he says softly. 
Every line of your face is tense with discomfort at the topic, but you finally meet his eyes. Remus’ smile is reflexive. He’s not sure how you can find things not to love in this face so full of sweetness. 
“Sorry,” you say, sheepish. 
“Don’t be sorry.” He rubs your upper arms affectionately. “I know you don’t do it to spite me, darling.”
You bring your hands up around his neck, hugging him loosely. “You really are beautiful,” you murmur into his sweater. “With the scars, too. I’m not just saying that.” 
“So are you.” Remus kisses the top of your head. Someday, he’ll get you to believe it.
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makethemhoesmad · 5 months
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“i love you, i love you, you’re the fucking love of my life baby, you’re perfect, wanna be with you forever,” paige says to me, kissing my neck while we lay naked in her bed. she never really says this stuff, only after we’ve fucked and she’s itching to go another round. i always cave. “mhmmm, paigey, i love you, please touch me,” she touches me, does what i want, then holds me close to her naked body and falls asleep, mumbling how she’ll never leave. I fall asleep, because she’s a warm body and i love her. she’s the love of my life.
I jolt up from a dream. a dream of a baby with two moms, one blond and one with my face. it wasn’t real, it never is, but after dreams like this it makes me hurt on the inside. i turn over to muffle the silent sniffs that always come from the empty feeling dreams like this leave behind. the body next to me moves, and a cool hand comes up to brush my cheek.
“baby.”
“paige.”
“what’s wrong? did i do something? can i help?”
i sniff, then curl against her, expressing, “i need a baby.”
she looks at me for a moment, perplexed, then kisses my forehead.
“you’re so tired darling, go back to bed”
hm.
paige gets back from practice at normal time, but she isn’t acting as normal as she usually does. normally she’s excitable and tells me all about the shots she made, the plays she set, everything. today she’s just here. my phone lights up, with a text from ashlynn shade of all people. i rarely talk to her. i go to the bathroom to open it, because maybe paige shouldn’t read it.
i read the first message and sink to the floor, back pressed to the wall.
ash shade
hey. i think you should know that paige keeps saying…things about you. 
what kind of things???
ash shade
well, she talks about how you’re always going on about wanting to settle down, get married, have kids. and she said that “you’re the love of her life. she just doesn’t want that. not now, not ever”
paige gets over her mood later, and we do our usual dance around the obvious issues. she pretends not to notice my faked enthusiasm, and i pretend not to notice the fact that she never once tells me i’m the love of her life. when she falls asleep, i don’t. i wonder when she’ll break up with me. it has to happen soon, there’s no chance it won’t. i’m taken back to the first conversation we had, where she told me that if sex with me was half as good as talking to me was, then soon enough we’d be pushing strollers. but i guess that’s over.
“cmon bro, don’t fucking be like that,” paige taunts me, rolling her eyes at my words.
“don’t you dare bro me, paige. i have a right to be fucking mad, you’re shit talking me to your teammates then coming home and banging me like i’m some one night stand! how about you stop being like this,” i scoff, spitting venom at her words.
“well bro, if you need to know because you’re so insecure that you can’t stand someone saying anything about you, the team asked how we were doing and i told them we wanted different things. fair enough.”
“if we want different things, there’s no point in staying together when we both know where this is going to end.”
“Fine. fuck you and fuck your rings and your cradles.”
“Fuck you,” i say, finalizing what had been brewing since we turned on the fire.
paige leaves, slamming the door and shouting profanities. i lock the door, turn around, and stand in our my bedroom. her hoodie is on the floor. her hoodie is in my arms. she’s the loss of my life.
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ladykailitha · 8 months
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The Harrington Pattern Part 1
Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late uploading today, but I went to bed early last night and forgot to schedule this.
Oops!
But! Welcome to what I've been calling Steve is a History Nerd agenda. We see in season two on Steve's essay for colleges that he can link his grandfather's military service with his prowess on the basketball court.
It is also surprisingly well written. *shakes fist at the Duffers stop telling us he's stupid and then showing the opposite, please! Let him be smart, too!*
Summary: The Renaissance Fair is finally back in Hawkins after three year absence (Starcourt was built on the fair site and after the fire it was bulldozed back to it's original field). Everyone is excited, even Steve to everyone's amazement. But Steve is hiding other hidden depths as he offers to help the kids make their costumes for the Fair.
Lucas is struggling with being both a nerd and a jock and fears the judgment of his friends. Steve sets out to help him overcome those doubts to be himself.
Tagging the untaggable: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
***
Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. Even Robin expected him to side with her about the dust and the filth. Eddie expected him to be dismissive of the fantasy aspect of it.
Boy were they all wrong.
For it was Steve to bring up to the group after a rather successful D&D session.
In his hand was a bright pink flier and a wide grin on his face.
“Guys! The Ren Fair is back this year,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “I’ll finally be able to show off that tunic I’ve been working on.”
All heads turned to Steve in shock.
There was a cacophony of questions.
“Since when did you know how to sew?”
“What do you mean back? I didn’t even know Hawkins had one to begin with!”
“You want to go to the Ren Fair?”
“Why would you want to spend all day in the heat and dirt?”
Steve looked around at all off his friends in shock.
“Guys, I love the Ren Fair,” he muttered. “Didn’t you guys know?”
All their jaws dropped.
And Eddie? Eddie felt an icicle to the heart at the sight of Steve’s hurt expression.
“You’ll pardon the peasants, my liege,” Eddie said, bowing grandly. “I’m afraid we have all be harboring under the delusion that Ren Fairs were beneath your notice.”
Steve blinked at him a moment. “But I love that stuff. It’s the history and sword fights and jousting. It’s the like medieval Olympics. It’s the romance and chivalry of knights fighting for a fair maiden’s hand. It’s getting to dress up in fancy clothes and rip into turkey legs like a savage. What’s not to like?”
Dustin frowned. “Who here knew Steve liked history?”
Robin and Nancy raised their hands. They looked around waiting for me people to join them. But they stayed down.
Steve ducked his head and scuffed the floor with the edge of his sneaker.
“The ex-girlfriend I’ll buy,” Dustin continued. “But Robin didn’t become friends with Steve until after he graduated so how did she know?”
Robin blinked at them owlishly. “You mean you guys don’t know?”
Everyone looked around each other and then shook their heads.
“Steve was in my AP history class my junior year,” she said as if this was know fact.
“You do know that AP stands for advance placement, right?” Mike asked.
Eddie smacked the back of his head. “She was in it, dude. Don’t be an ass.”
Steve looked up at him and smiled a little.
Good, Eddie thought. Nothing like a little Mike violence to cheer up Steve.
“He wrote an essay for early placement college exams,” Nancy said. “He didn’t get a chance to turn it in because of our second go round with the Upside Down, but it was really good. It needed a little neatening up with the actual writing, but the history was solid.”
Steve blushed. “Thanks.”
Dustin looked skeptical. “What’s your favorite part of history?”
Steve opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I liked hearing about my grandpa’s time in the US army during WWII, but that was more because he made it interesting. But I really like the Industrial Revolution. Or rather the first Industrial Revolution. There have been four. The first one was from 1760-1840 and featured heavily in the textile movement.”
The room was silent.
“Why textiles, Stevie?” Eddie asked as the silence grew awkward.
Steve lit up like a child at Christmas morning and he began talking about the British textile movement.
“What the hell?” Dustin huffed, breaking into Steve monologue.
Steve ducked his head again and blushed. “Just because I’m not interested in science and fantasy doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” He straightened up. “And yeah, sometimes I get things wrong. But everyone does at some point. In fact I get a hell of a lot more flack for my intelligence than Eddie does and he repeated his senior year twice!” He took a deep breath and then ran his fingers through his hair.
“No offense,” he said waving to Eddie.
Eddie looked up at him with earnest eyes. “None taken. I concur.”
They all looked around at each other in shock. Like they hadn’t realized that they had done that.
After a few moments, Steve put his hands on his hips and pointed at all of them.
“So do you guys want to go or what?”
Eddie sat back with a smile as everyone roared their approval.
*
“No corsets,” was Robin’s only firm and fast rule for Steve when it came to dressing her up for the Ren Fair.
Steve looked her up and down. “Why on earth would I want you in a corset? Have you looked in the mirror?”
“Uh...” Robin said. “Is that a trick question? Of course I have. I don’t what that has to do with saying no to corsets though...”
Steve rolled his eyes. “In order to give you the curve you need to match the proper silhouette you would need to be cinched to hell. And as this is supposed to be fun.”
He grabbed her hand and started hauling her toward his car.
“Where are we going?”
“Thrifting!” he said with glee.
It took three different stores and a stop at the mall to get everything he needed.
“Give me three days,” he told her when he dropped her off at her house. “And I think you’ll like what I come up with.”
Robin eyed him warily. “If you say so.”
Steve laughed.
He crashed the next D&D session, showing up early to pick them up.
“What is everyone wearing to the Ren Fair?” he asked with a note pad on his lap and wagged the pen in his fingers.
“You want us to dress up?” Mike asked, eyes wide.
“Why not?” he asked with a shrug. “I’ve made my costume and currently reworking some thirfted threads for Robin’s outfit.”
Eddie blinked. “You made your costume?”
Steve shrugged again. “Yeah. I like sewing.”
There was suddenly an uproar and he held up a hand. “I can’t make you a full outfit before the Fair, but I can make over already made clothes to make them more historical. And maybe for next year I’ll have the time to make something special for everyone.”
Dustin eyed him suspiciously. “Like what?”
“Like tailoring pants to a tighter fit,” Steve explained “adding a sash or belt, turning old coats into vests and cloaks, things like that.”
They still weren’t sure how that would work out.
“Now I talked to Joyce and Claudia,” he continued. “And they’re both willing to help out in making sure everyone has something nice to wear. That includes Max and El.”
“Are the fair maidens joining us?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. Joyce is doing El and Will, Claudia is doing Dustin and Mike, and I’m doing Lucas and Max. Eddie said he already had a costume, so I didn’t have to worry about him.”
Eddie grinned. “You better believe it, pretty boy.”
Steve ducked his head and blushed. “So we’re all going thrifting with a $5 limit for each of you. But I wanted to brainstorm some ideas of what you wanted to go as so we don’t waste time wandering around.”
Everyone started shouting at once and it took Steve a good ten minutes before he got everyone calmed down enough to get what they wanted. Dustin wanted to go as a hobbit, but Steve had to nix that one.
“You don’t want to go running around the grounds barefoot,” he explained with a wince. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m going to have to agree with Stevie on this one,” Eddie said. “You guys have never been but there is all sorts of stuff laying around. It’s not indoors and the pathways are dirt lined. Think the state fair. It’s more like that then going to comic book convention.”
Dustin grumbled but conceded the point. Steve got them to decide on... well not quite peasant gear, but more rough around the edges than what Steve would be wearing.
Well, all but Lucas. He didn’t want to wear what they were wearing but he refused to say what he did want to wear.
So Steve dropped him off at home last.
They pulled into his driveway and Steve turned to him. “Do you not want to dress up? Because I won’t make you.”
Lucas picked at the loose string on his sweater. “It’s not that. I just remember the last time we did a group costume and they all thought I should be Winston because I was black like he was.”
Steve frowned for a moment. “The Ghostbusters, right?”
Lucas nodded. “I knew if I brought it up they’d shoot me down again.”
“So what did you want to go as?” he asked.
Lucas huffed out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. It’s a stupid pipe dream anyway. Especially since you have to make Max’s dress and Robin’s costume, too.”
He opened the door to get out, but Steve reached over and slammed it closed.
“One, Robin’s costume is almost done,” he said counting out on his fingers. “Two, do you really think your girlfriend is going to want to wear a dress? And three, let me be the judge on what’s too much for me, okay?”
Lucas huffed a laugh at his second point. “Yeah, that was dumb of me.”
“So what is it?”
Lucas looked down again and heaved out a sigh. “An elf.”
Steve’s mind was whirling with the possibilities. “What colors?”
“What?” Lucas asked, not sure he heard Steve right.
“What colors would you want it to be?”
He pulled out the notebook and scrambled for a pen. Lucas pulled a pencil out of his bag and handed it to him.
“Uh I was thinking of a light blue and with a silver trim?” he said hesitantly.
Steve sketched something out. “Like this?”
Lucas leaned over to look at the drawing. “A little shorter so I’m not tripping over it and maybe those puffy pants?”
Steve adjusted the drawing and Lucas nodded.
“Yeah, like that.”
“All right,” Steve said. “I know exactly what to do and how to do it. It won’t be perfect because I don’t have time to do it right so I’ll be doing a lot of cheating. But yeah, it’s doable.”
Lucas gave him a hug. “Thanks, man.”
*
Steve called the one person he knew he could help him.
“Eddie,” he said the second the other man picked up. “I need your nerd connections to do a huge favor for Lucas.”
“Wha’cha got, big boy?” Eddie asked with a grin.
“You wouldn’t happen to know any Trekkies would you?” Steve asked chewing on his bottom lip.
“That depends, Stevie,” Eddie replied, “what’s the need?”
“Pointed ears.”
Eddie hummed. “I’m assuming you’re thinking Trekkie because of Spock and that’s a good thought. But I’m guessing since we’re going to the Ren Fair our stalwart ranger is wanting to be an elf?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “Do you know anyone who can help?”
“Better than that,” Eddie said. “I know where to get the ears in the right... shade?”
Steve perked up. “Oh? I’m guessing Jeff?”
“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said with a soft smile. “I’ll give him a call and then call you back.”
“Thanks, Eds,” Steve breathed. “You’re the best.”
“Thanks, doll.”
****
I am so excited for this, guys. You have no idea. I'm little history nerd myself and this really fun to play around with.
Just a heads up. We WILL be addressing Mike's casual racism from the Ghostbusters scene because I don't like that it's never been addressed.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @artiststarme ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual
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lookforsomeoneelse · 25 days
Text
i don’t want to set the world on fire… (prologue)
been reading through old imposter au sagaus, and found inspo to get off my butt and start typing…
anyway tw for your standard imposter au stuff like persecution, violence, and cussing
also you might be a trans allegory? idk what that means but i think i can infer
Imagine waking up in a body that is not your own.
It freaks you out; the first couple of days after the sudden shift, but you gather enough information to piece together the puzzle of where you are.
You’re in Genshin Impact, a game you just played to kill time.
Things are different here, you soon find out, as evident of the statues strewn about your new residence.
Your “family” and “friends” worry about you for a while, as you get set in your new life.
It’s disorienting, but after a while you eventually manage to find stable ground to stand on for your new life.
The tides of life remain calm for what seems like a moment after that, before everything you thought you knew about this world comes crumbling down.
Rumors of an imposter who takes up “Their Grace’s” face begin to pop up.
It scares you, the way that everybody takes up arms and begins a manhunt for this person who, to you, hadn’t done anything at all.
As one of your neighbors shoves a pitchfork into your hands, you quickly stammer out an excuse about thieves coming and robbing houses if they all go, and you also offer to stand and look out for whoever the hell they’re trying to kill.
They buy it.
Only six hours have passed since that interaction, and you hear the shuffling of… something.
Opening the door to your humble abode, you find a person covered in blood and rags, bones broken and cuts all over their damaged body.
Your gazes interlock, and their eyes widen at the sight of you. One step, two steps, three steps back. They turn and begin to run, before their legs give in to their fatigue and they trip.
You approach them as one would a wounded animal, which is probably what they’ve been treated like. You’ve already put two and two together.
This is the so-called “imposter” that everyone’s looking for.
They let out a couple of whimpers, and they’re hyperventilating. They shuffle away from you on all fours.
When your shadow inevitably casts over their crawling figure, they turn and begin to earnestly plead. You can only feel pity in your heart as they do so.
“PLEASE,” They cry out, “DON’T-DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” Their eyes begin to water. They look so scared, you think to yourself.
“please. just leave me alone…” They cover themselves up with their arms, hoping to alleviate at least some of the pain that comes their way.
When they realize that the pain doesn’t come, they come out of their shell slowly to face you.
In a random act of kindness, you decide to take them in, despite everyone else’s differing opinion on what you should do with or to them.
“Don’t worry,” you assure them, “I’m not going to hurt you.” You extend a hand out. “Can you stand?”
Wiping off tears of joy in their eyes, they take your hand and use your grip to pull themselves up. However, once they let go, they stumble to the ground, forcing you to pick them up and help to carry them.
“I don’t think we have time for names. But, I’ll try to at least feed you and give you some spare clothes.”
“O-ok….”
Once you make it to your residence, you sit them down and bring over a bowl of freshly heated potato soup. They devour it with fierce voracity, evident of how they’ve been mistreated. You also look around for anything that looks like it’ll fit and give it to them.
It’s a perfect match.
For the next about two months, life was pretty easygoing for the two of you. You hide them in a supply closet in your home when anyone would show up at the front door.
But they decide that it’s time for them to go. With a smile and a wave, you send them off on their journey, making sure that they have all their necessities on them.
Shortly after, another rumor- completely different from the one before it- spreads like a great wildfire.
The “imposter,” the one you had taken in and cared for, was actually the true creator all this time.
They’ve made a big speech about how they would destroy all of Teyvat for its sins against its creator, but they declare that they will not do this thanks to the sympathy and kindness of a certain individual.
That “certain individual?”
that’s you.
___________________________
WOOO IM BACK BABBBBYYYYY
anyway if yall wanna use this idea go ahead
I don’t get paid for this and you probably don’t either so go crazy with it
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zephyrchama · 6 months
Note
Hi!! I love your hc’s , can I request how the brothers would react to a s/o from who’s deathly afraid of wasps , like phobia strength fear . (It’s spring where I am and I have a phobia of wasps so i really want comfort stuffs lol)
Thank you! I've been wanting to write something bug-related, hope I don't disappoint too much! If there's not enough fluff or comfort, I'll try to come up with something else. I wound up writing how they'd handle the situation.
(little scary note: Devildom wasps are probably awful monstrosities, maybe even bigger than human realm ones. They could have all kinds of RPG monster-style wasps in addition to the “normal” sized ones that humans are familiar with (yet have some crazy venom).)
-----
Lucifer revels in being the first person you go to when you feel afraid. He doesn’t quite get why it’s such a big emergency, and he doesn’t like the chore of having to stop what he’s doing just to take care of a common pest, but there’s a warmth in knowing you come straight to him when you're scared. At first he would tell you to go ask someone else. Or, couldn’t you chase it off yourself with magic? He knows that surely you’re more than capable. He has better things to do than deal with a wasp. But with enough begging, he’d give in. Especially if you bury yourself under his coat. He can feel you trembling. Grasping his shirt in your fingertips and shakily asking “Lucifer, please?” will usually do the trick. He takes his coat off and drapes it over your head so you don’t have to watch while he takes care of things. Typically, it only takes seconds to erase all traces of the wasp’s existence. It takes far longer for you to convince Lucifer to help than it does for him to actually help. As the problem persisted and the weather got warmer, Lucifer started insisting you wear bug repellant to keep the problem at bay. He stops you in the morning to make sure you’re wearing it. If you come to him later in the day with a wasp-related issue, he’ll hold you back and personally make sure every inch from head to toe is coated before you leave. "I can't have any pests approaching you when I'm not around," he explains.
-----
Mammon loves when you rely on him. He has no trouble getting rid of a pesky bug or two. The first time it happened, he panicked. His human was crying and shaking and could hardly speak - the human he’s supposed to be in charge of. If anything happened to you, he’d be in a world of trouble. “What? What happened, huh?” he asked, grabbing your shoulders. He couldn’t understand unless you told him. “Help,” you whimpered, pointing where you had been standing moments before. “What?” The only thing there now was a buzzing wasp, flitting to and fro. “That thing?” You nodded and the relief that washed over him was immense. He almost laughed. “Man, don’t scare me like that! C’mon, the Great Mammon’ll take care of it for you.” Now, he’ll ask for rewards. Nothing big, but just enough to motivate him and keep you from taking advantage of him. He can’t let you find out that your tears are his weakness, after all. Mammon makes a big show of playing the hero, saying “get behind me” and pulling you in close. He’ll wrap an arm over you, guiding your head into his side while firing off a spell with a “bang!” Sometimes he’s so focused on how cute you look that he misses and sets fire to a shrub, but as long as you’re not looking, he can coolly escort you in the opposite direction as if nothing is out of the ordinary. “Well? Don’t ya think the Great Mammon deserves a reward for savin’ ya?”
-----
“Do I have to?” Leviathan gets anxious and doesn’t want to confront the wasps. He can see how distraught you are and it’s tugging on his heart strings, but they freak him out too. He’s so much stronger and he knows it, but their unpredictability is unsettling. He’ll let you take shelter in his room for as long as you want, or under his hoodie as long as you don’t move too much. If you’re especially persistent, he’ll eventually work up the courage. It might take a while though. With a mighty wadded up newspaper in one hand and the other hand outstretched protectively in front of you, he’ll slowly inch forward towards any unsavory bug. At the smallest sound though, he’ll jump and it’s back to square one. If the wasp moves and you shriek, he shrieks with you. “Don’t scare me like that!! I-I… I almost had it!! Arrghhh!” If you two are lucky, the commotion attracts one of his other brothers who rolls their eyes and crushes the wasp like it’s made of paper. On days when backup never arrives, you have to play hype man until Levi finally works up the nerve to one-shot the target. “I did it!” He looks so happy, and he occasionally strikes a silly victory pose despite also falling back in relief. He is the hero who saved the human in distress, after all. The next time it happens he’s still incredibly reluctant, but he upgrades his rolled-up newspaper to one of those electric zapping polls so he feels a little cooler.
-----
Satan is usually unperturbed by the bugs. They’re certainly annoying, but nothing to fret over. “You want me to take care of that?” he’ll ask, no questions asked. You don’t even need to say anything. He notices when your attention wanders from him, when the look in your eye changes and your demeanor shifts upon spotting one. You don’t have to speak if you’re unable to. Grabbing on to the empty sleeve of his jacket is enough of an answer. Satan is especially handy if there are multiple bugs buzzing in the vicinity. It’s not often he gets to practice his curses on a moving target. If he’s having an especially rough day, he’ll pack all his frustrations and wrath into a single blow that’s way more powerful than necessary. That is doubly true if he’s interrupted during a nice moment. Satan likes to savor good times without being disturbed. He’s ruthless if a wasp comes along and ruins the nice atmosphere between you two. He tries to be careful around his book collection, but anything else in the way is fair game to be destroyed. His attempts to calm you down afterwards are less helpful. He tries to distract you with trivia. “That was just an infernal warrior bee. You can tell by the three horizontal stripes and ones vertical stripe on its back. We must have walked past its nest, they’re mostly harmless unless you get too close and they start unsheat-” ”Aaaaaahhh!!!” The quickest way to shut Satan up before your fear gets worse is just to shout louder than he talks, especially if you nuzzle your head against his chest while he does it.
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Asmodeus gives you a nauseated look. He could probably destroy a bug in seconds, but they’re gross. He wants nothing to do with them. “Isn’t there anybody else around to get it?” It’s quite a sight to see Asmodeus publicly charm people into disposing of a wasp for the two of you. It is the most convenient way when other people are around. He does it as naturally as breathing, and then the two of you have to run from his obsessed fans instead of an insect. If Asmo sends a distress text to his brothers, it’s rare for someone to actually show up. But if you join him and spam the house’s group chat together, somebody will inevitably come to your aid. The two of you have cowered together in a corner many times waiting on one of his other brothers to show up. Due to this, you’ve perfected a defensive formation. If you both hug each other, fingers intertwined and head resting on the other’s shoulder, it calms you both down while also minimizing the blind spots in the room. You can spot any bug approaching with a 95% accuracy rate. If it’s a long day and bugs are a major recurring issue, Asmo will snap. Enough is enough. He still manages to be so pretty, despite his raging demonic energy knocking down everything in its path. He feels so disgusted afterwards though and will invite you to bathe the grossness away with him in a long, long bath.
-----
Beelzebub the reliable. Beelzebub the wonderful. You have so much appreciation for this dude. Beel is often the one you can turn to when nobody else will help. He’s not the best at spotting the smaller insects so you need to be very descriptive about where you saw them, but he shows no hesitation when it comes to exterminating them for you. The way he casually just whacks them aside is astounding. He’s more concerned about your shaking and crying and will try to prioritize comforting you over handling the wasps, but that just makes you more scared. With each passing moment, who knows where they’ll fly to next? “Please, please Beel. Just please take care of it, make it go away!” The sooner the better. The corners of his mouth will turn down, hesitant to turn his back on you, but he agrees. “Ok.” You must ensure to reward him with plenty of snacks. It keeps him protectively by your side for longer and otherwise he starts wondering how the felled wasps would taste fried. He used to get concerned you wouldn’t eat with him, but has since learned you need time to calm down before you appetite returns. It helps if you can sit in his lap, a fortified spot you’re certain no wasps can get near.
-----
Belphegor is too lazy to lift a finger most days. If they’re not bothering him, he doesn’t want to bother with them. But the way you twitch, the way you shriek and jump over the smallest movements, will start to concern him. It’s cute at first. He enjoys seeing a new side of you, the easily startled side. It's amusing. If it goes on for too long though he knows you’ll get nightmares and it will mess with your health. Humans get sick easily like that. He’ll laugh at you and then fell the buzzing menace with ease. It’s easier to get Belphegor to help when he’s tired. The buzzing annoys him to no end when all he wants is a peaceful nap. He might not even be conscious of what he's doing and protects you out of pure instinct. When he’s cranky, he shows no mercy to the insects hassling you. You’ve got blanket permission to throw yourself in his arms when he’s taking a nap. His demon form tail is an especially potent fly (or any winged creature, really) swatter, ensuring nothing gets near the two of you. Belphegor will literally take care of everything in his sleep while he snuggles up to you without a care in the world. One time you were escaping a nagging Lucifer instead of a wasp and tried the same tactic. It only made him madder. But it was great to see him get bapped in the face with Belphegor’s fluffy tail.
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rafeyscurtainbangs · 12 days
Text
House-Sitting - JJ Maybank One Shot
+18 Minor DNI
JJ x Girlfriend!Reader
⭐️ republished ⭐️ <- my first ever JJ post 🥹
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+18 Minor DNI
🪄 warnings: SMUT, shower stuff, lots of pet names, lovey JJ, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, practically plotless
📖 You’re house sitting and smut ensues
✨ You bite your lip and shake your head ‘no’. Your focus shifts, drifting lower, watching as he brings the stream of water to your pussy, hitting your clit, making your knees buckle. You let out a moan, echoing through the bathroom. ✨
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Reader’s POV:
Your feet pound against the sand, as the sun rises high in the east. My lungs are on fire. Silent screams of pain flood your mind. You glance over at JJ, totally unfazed. His eyes meet yours; a devilish smirk follows. No, JJ. He moves a little faster, just a smidge, a few inches in front of you. You pick up your pace, running next to him.
He chuckles, breathlessly. You return a scoff in annoyance; picking up your speed, and moving ahead of him. JJ breaks out in a sprint, tearing down the beach.
“Jayj!” You scream.
Fuck. He’s fast.
You’re streaming after him; your feet unstable in the sand, birds scuttling out of the way, screeching and swirling overhead. There’s no way you can keep up. His feet kick up sand, peppering you as you take up the rear. “Stop. You little shit,” you hiss. He throws on the brakes. You run past him at full speed. Oh my god, JJ. Turning around your eyes meet his; your hands on your hips, reaching for air.
“Y/N… when did you get so damn slow,” he smiles, voice barely audible. His abs flex tightly with his breathing, sweat drips down his stomach.
Agh… He’s in trouble. But damn… does he look fucking good… His tanned skin glistens in the sun. Two chiseled v’s on his tight waist; his grey shorts clinging tightly to his thighs. His smile widens. “Did you hear me? Or are you too busy gawking, sweetheart? I can repeat myself if you’d like?”
“Mmm…”
“What?”
“To think… I was going to suck you off in the shower this morning.” You pant He looks at you wide-eyed, regretting every single word. Turning pace you trudge back through the sand, making your way to your house sitting house. “That would have been fun. Right, Jayj?” You yell loudly, giving him the finger. You hear him jogging up behind you—you wipe the shit-eating grin off your face.
“No… No. No. No!” JJ barks. “Don’t be a sore loser, baby.” He paws for your ass, giving it a squeeze.
“Knock it off,” you say flatly, pushing him away.
“Mmm… come here, beautiful. Don’t be like that,” he croons, reaching for your arm, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you close. He pinches the rim of his hat, flipping it backward.
Ugh… he knows that drives me crazy.
He lifts you up, walking you towards the house. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms draped lazily on his shoulders. “You’re glowing, baby.”
“Fuck off.”
“No! I’m serious,” he burns, licking his lip, his head tilted slightly.
“Yeah… yeah… serious about getting your dick wet…” You roll your eyes. “Please.”
“What? Me? Never,” he smiles, leaning in closer, you do as well.
“I’m not kissing you, JJ,” you whisper onto his lips. “And I’m sure as shit not showering with you either.”
“Can I change your mind?“
”No…“ You clip.
“Y/N…”
“JJ…”
“Baby…”
“Maybank…”
“Please…”
“Not a fucking chance.”
“But you need me…” he smiles. “You obviously wanted something from me.”
“My fingers will do the trick but thank you for your concern.”
He smiles wickedly. “Nah… Those things are too small. Look at these,” he chuckles as he wiggles his finger high, showing off his come hither motion.
“Can you set me down?” You scoff.
He steps into the grass, moving towards the house. “Not a fucking chance,” he mocks with a sly smile. His eyes drift to your chest, your breasts pressed together in your black sports bra. He hops, adjusting you in his arms, watching as your chest bounces.
“Ugh…You’re a fucking dog.”
“Yeah… But I’m your good boy. Right?” He barks a few times, giving you a wink.
You scoff, your smile trying hard to push its way through. JJ grabs the door handle, pulling it open; the chill of your air conditioner hitting your glazed skin. You shiver; goosebumps fall over your body.
“Wow… you look chilly, baby. We should probably warm you up.” He presses the door shut. “With like… a shower or something.”
“Enough.”
“Please…”
“Let’s just wait until we get back to The Château. The Williams trust me. If they find out they’d kill me for sure or, at least not let me house-sit. The money’s too good Jayj.”
“They won’t find out,” he pouts. “And, the little note said ‘make yourself at home’. What do you do in a home, doll-”
“Jayj,” you cut him off.
“You fuck,” he finishes his sentence, drawing out the word in an overly seductive tone trying his best to get you to laugh.
“You’re trouble.”
“No shit, baby,” he smiles. JJ jumps again, watching your cleavage recoil on impact, his blue eyes roll back, meeting your gaze with a stare that makes you throb.
“Fine.” You wind up, smacking him roughly on the ass. He lets out a fake moan one second, charging at you the next, tickling you as you fight him off, the two of you scampering down the hall.
“I said ‘leave me alone’,” you squeal.
“Eh. You don’t want that, darlin’,” he chuckles. JJ grabs you, easily pinning you against the wall, kissing you deeply.
“Can we make it to the bathroom at least?” You tease.
He grabs the bottom of your sports bra, tugging it over your head. You clasp your hands to your chest, letting out a gasp. “Hey! I wanna see ’em,” he groans. You give him a little swat on the arm.
“No. They probably have cameras and shit.”
“So?” You smack him again, making him clutch his arm jokingly. “Are we gonna fight fight?” He taunts, swiftly taking you into his arms.
“We are already fighting” You answer flatly, arms wrapping around the back of his neck. “I just slapped you.”
“And, you think you’d win this fight, Y/N?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re probably right,” he smiles.
“I’m always right,” you sigh as you work your finger into his hair. His eyes shut softly, leaning in for a kiss as you pass through the threshold.
“No. No way. Not their room.” JJ kicks the door shut, not letting you out of his arms
“What’s the point in havin’ a girlfriend if you can’t bone her anywhere you’d like?” He holds back his laugh as the words pass his lips, your mouth, hanging open in disgust.
“What’s the point in having a girlfriend? What? Are we twelve? You’re kinda bein’ a dick.”
“Wanna sit on my lap and tell me how awful I am?”
“Stop. Guest room now.”
“Uff… I love when you boss me around. Do it again.”
“Now. The shower’s nicer anyways.”
“Yeah? Were you thinking about doin’ this,” He taunts. “Were you dreamin’ about me all wet and sexy?” JJ whispers, fighting back a chuckle, but he’s not wrong.
“’Course I was,” you whisper. Making him smile against your kiss.
“My girl.” His tongue slips between your pout, rolling slowly as you moan softly into your kiss.
He turns the handle, water spilling from the head, still cold leaving you the perfect amount of time to play. Your lips meet his neck; a soft kiss, feeling his heartbeat under your lips. You palm his cock, rolling your fingers gently over the fabric. He moans deeply, vibrating against your lips.
You work a little lower, JJ setting you down as you kiss and trace his toned chest and abs, working to your knees. Your fingers run softly against the indentations of his v-lines, making his muscles flex. You smile up at him sinfully, catching your fingers under the band of his shorts, pulling them to his feet. You watch as his aching cock springs free. JJ meets your eyes; his guide shifting as you start to touch your tits as well.
“Fuck, Y/N,” JJ groans.
You take your hands, running them gently against your breasts, circling your nipples with your fingers as he eyes your every move. Steam gathers above as the shower gets warmer, JJ’s features, a little hazier than before. You return your focus below, running your nails up his thighs.
”Fuck you’re huge, Jayj,“ you praise as you take him in your hands.
”Yeah?“ He groans, watching you near his tip, a pearl of precum gathers on his head, rolling slowly down the length of his cock.
“Mmm… Mhmm.” You hum, cleaning him up with your tongue. JJ closes his eyes, tilting his head back to the ceiling.
You continue to toy with him, little licks and flicks. JJ cradles your head in his hands as you swirl slowly. ”Oh my god, Y/N,“ he grunts.
JJ’s eyes open, watching as you kiss him sloppily, teasing him with the thought of your lips wrapped around him, the warmth of your mouth swathing him.
”Shit,“ he whines, sexual frustration painted all over his beautiful face. You smile wickedly, lips parting slightly. His mouth mimics yours, watching in anticipation as you squeeze the tip of his dick. “Those fuckin’ lips, Y/N. Please.”
“Please what?” You taunt. “You were being a dick to me… Why should I suck yours?”
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he soughs, pitching his hips forward. You snake your tongue around his head, working in slow circular movements as you play with his balls. JJ’s eyes shut tight when you alternate directions. ”C’mon, baby. Give me what I want,“ he drawls. You open your mouth wider. JJ chuckles lustfully as you comply with his request. You take him into your maw. “Fuck,” he moans, drawing out the word with a deep breath. You bob back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. He takes your head in his hands as you increase your speed.
JJ starts to quaver on your tongue, mumbling words of praise as you add your hands. He tugs your hair causing you to moan, JJ, answering with the same. He seizes control, stroking slower, taking a different grip entirely. His strong hands holding your cheeks. The head of his cock kisses the back of your throat, spit seeping from the corners of your lips.
“I’m sorry I teased you, darlin’… I just couldn’t help myself,” he sneers, not an ounce of remorse in his voice. He lets out a deep chuckle. “So fuckin’ good at suckin’ cock, Y/N. Jesus Christ” He thrusts deeply a few more times before giving you back the reins. You draw off him fully, a gasp for air releases from your open lips. You spit on his cock, stroking him with your hand, letting your breasts bounce with each movement.
“Do you want my mouth, JJ?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Beg.”
He shakes his head and smiles wickedly.“Yeah, angel? You want me to beg?”
“Mhmm…”
“Please, Y/N. Can I please have your mouth?”
You raise an eyebrow, waiting for more.
“Fuck, Y/N… I need that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock… I’m beggin’ ya… Please, baby.” You wrap your lips around his tip, creating a suction that makes him groan. Your hands wrap around, gripping his ass as you start to stroke. Lewd noises fill the bathroom, JJ panting and moaning, and you slurping and squelching with each bob.
He hisses out a breath as you drag your nails along his skin. Tears run down your cheeks, eyes locked on his, watching as he starts to near his peak.
“So good, baby… I’m gonna – Fuck.”
You run him even quicker, sucking a little harder as his brows knit tight. His blue eyes soften on yours, fighting to keep them open. You feel him quake on your tongue. Releasing him from your lips you pump fast; arm, wrapped around your ribs, pressing your breasts together. Your mouth opens wide; tongue flat
“Holy shit,” he grunts, inhaling sharply, surrendering to his finish, warm, white ropes landing on your tongue and chest. You bind your fingers a little tighter, milking out his last bits of pleasure, skimming your tongue along JJ’s tip, cleaning up the rest, making his hooded eyes roll back.
JJ takes a clasp on your wrists, pulling you up and into his arms. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, melting into him as he breathes laboriously, coming down from his high.“God damn, baby. You’re so fuckin’ good at that,” he mumbles breathlessly against your lips. “Do you know how good you make me feel?”
You smile against your kiss, sucking off his plump bottom lip slowly, taking it between your teeth. “You make me feel so fucking good, Jayj,” you respire between kisses as he steps into the large walk-in shower.
The water is warm, remnants of his release rise off your body, swirling down the drain. Steam and heat hang heavy in the air making it almost impossible to see. You hook your ankles, driving your body closer as he presses your back into the cool tile wall. He shuts the glass door. JJ’s large handprint streaks across the gathered vapor.
“That feel good, baby? Not too hot?”
“No. It’s perfect,” you whisper.
“Beautiful.”
JJ reaches for the shower head, taking it off the base, turning it to a steady stream. He kicks your foot out gently. A smile spreads on his kiss-swollen lips as he sees you start to put the pieces together.
“Jayj?” You giggle breathlessly.
“You ever done this before?” He questions, gripping the detachable shower head in one hand, the other pinned just over your shoulder as he looks down at you.
“I mean maybe,” you smile.
“No one’s ever done it for you?” He groans, letting the warm water spray against your thigh, working higher and higher.
You bite your lip and shake your head ‘no’. Your focus shifts, drifting lower, watching as he brings the stream of water to your pussy, hitting your clit, making your knees buckle. You let out a moan, echoing through the bathroom.
“Y/N… Fuck, baby. Too much?”
“No. It’s good, Jayj. So good,” you sigh. “Don’t stop.”
JJ moves his arm from the wall to your waist, drawing you closer, rocking slowly, increasing and decreasing the intensity, making you throw your head back in pleasure. JJ’s lips quickly lock onto your skin, kissing you harshly before biting down, making you squeal.
He watches your body carefully, your face, changing with each passing second as you drift closer and closer to your breaking point. You feel your pleasure building fast, the pressure of the water stronger than any toy you’ve used in a while.“You like that. Huh?” He grunts. You nod your head rapidly. JJ leans down, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking and flicking, causing you to arch your back.
”JJ… Oh my god,“ you hail as your vision starts to cloud—stars in your eyes.
”I can’t wait to fuck you baby. This is just a warm-up, sweet-“
“JJ!” You cut him off, crying out in pleasure as you wrap your arms tighter, nails digging into his shoulder blades. He lets out a devilish laugh, forcing the stream a little closer. “Jay-JJ,” you stutter.
“What, princess?” Your body jolts as you fight him slightly in overstimulation, continuing to ride the waves of your orgasm, pussy clenching tight. ”Does it feel good, baby?“
“Yes. Fuck!”
“Then just take it,” he rasps in your ear; sending chills down your spine. You feel your body relax; heart, pounding in your chest as you reach for air. JJ returns the water head to the base, cranking up the heat, pressing you into the wall once more as you continue to kiss, your ears ringing slightly, feeling the after-effects of your bliss.
“Fuck me?” You whimper, desperation laced in your tone. ”Please.“
“Anywhere, baby? Where do you want it?”
“Bed… Start here.”
“The bed? You sure? I’d hate to upset the Williams.” JJ reaches down, taking a grip on your thigh, looping it in his bicep, muscles flexing as he lifts you slightly.
“Just fuck me.” You tilt your forehead against his, the two of you watching as his long cock nears your warmth. “Shit,” you whine as he circles your sensitive clit with his velvety head, making him smirk. JJ moves a little lower, gliding through your folds, teasing your entrance with his tip.
”JJ. Please.“
“Please what?” He teases you again.
”Fuck me.“
“Baby…” He lets out a gravelly laugh. ”Beg harder.“ JJ swipes his head across your bud again making you gasp.
”JJ, can you please fuck me? Ple-“ He thrusts his cock into you, rutting up, breasts pressing against his chest as he steals your breath. JJ grabs your ass and picks you up swiftly causing you to sink deeper on his cock making you mewl onto his lips.
”Y/N,“ he moans.
“Yeah,” you stammer.
“I fucking love you.”
“I fucking love you, JJ.”
He pins you to the wall, leaning in, rutting quickly. His strokes are merciless, incredibly deep as you cling to his shoulders again. The hot water cascades down your body, increasing your pleasure as it flows between the two of you, the stimulation alone making you feel like you could climax.
“Ready?”
“Yeah,” you mumble against his lips.
JJ draws open the door, his cock still buried deep as he brings you to the bedroom. He’s sauntering, a slow stroll as you kiss at the perfect cadence. He sits down on the large mattress, letting you straddle his lap.
JJ adjusts slightly, his cock, reaching a different angle, making you suck in some air. You lift your body, rising up fully before spreading your thighs wide again. JJ grips your ass in his hands, following you as you move. “Fuck,” you whine, bottom lip quivering, as you feel him stretch you out.
JJ looks down watching where your bodies connect. A low moan releases from the back of his throat. “You’re so fuckin wet, Y/N. Holy shit.” You hook your hand behind his neck, leaning back slightly, changing the angle for a better view. Watching JJ’s thick cock glisten with essence.
Throwing your head back, you hit the perfect spot, feeling every curve and ridge as you push yourself further. JJ’s thumb presses against your throbbing clit rubbing circles on top causing your thighs to shake. ”Takin’ me so well, baby girl,“ he drawls. ”So fucking tight.“
”JJ…“ You sigh, feeling yourself about to cum again, head, pounding with your heart.
“Yeah? That’s the spot. Huh?”
“Y-Yeah,” you stutter, cock-drunk, thighs quivering uncontrollably, making you lose your rhythm.
“Let me, baby. Let me,” he groans.
JJ fucks into you, striking the perfect angle, making your muscles tense up. ”Shit… Right there, Jayj. You’re gonna make me cum.“
“Yeah? This pussy was made for me. Cum on my cock, Y/N…” Your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure hitting you harder than your first release. Toes curling as you’re sent into ecstasy. You lock down around him, JJ taking his cue; pounding into you at an even quicker pace.
Before you can come down, he picks you up; throwing you on the mattress, thrusting into you suddenly. The sounds of his skin clapping against yours echo through the large room. You let out a cry, far louder than intended, in a house that’s not your own, even if it’s empty. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand.
JJ quickly grabs your wrist, pulling it away from your mouth, shaking his head ‘no’ as he tacks it and the other against the plush mattress. “Never do that again,” he pants through a smile, punctuating each word with a thrust.
“Closer,” you beg. JJ leans in, pressing you against the bed, knees wide, striking deep inside, making your eyes slam shut. He loosens the grip on your wrist, fingers weaving into yours. Your mouth falls open, a mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Look at me, baby.”
You do, seeing every muscle at work, water still glistening on his tan skin, his blonde fringe, wet and messy.
“JJ…”
“Me too, Y/N. Fuck. Me too,” he moans. He drops a hand, pressing two fingers between your lips. You suck them roughly as you fight to keep your eyes open. JJ slips his hand low, his skilled fingers brushing fast.
”Yes! Just – Just like that. Fuck. JJ,“ you murmur. ”Oh shit-“ Your orgasm spills over, soaking his cock, wetting the sheets below. The sound of his strokes intensifies as he works you through your climax, stimulating your clit, brushing through spurts as he makes a mess of your thighs and his. ”That’s it… Good fuckin’ girl.“
His hips snap into you one last time, filling you with his warmth, toppling down on top of you. You can feel everything at this moment, his release and your own, the two of you glazed with sweat, soaked from the shower. You focus on the sound of his heartbeat, complementing your own; the way your body fits in his, JJ’s weight on top of yours.
“That was amazing,” he praises, kissing you sweetly.
“So good… So fucking good.”
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rynwritesstuff · 9 months
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Billy The Kid x Reader
Warnings: Feisty!Reader, General outlaw stuff (guns, cursing, threats), Mentions of sex work/brothels, Smut (PIV sex, unprotected sex, rough sex), Hint of fluff, Imprisonment, Jailbreak
Word Count: 5.4k
Summary: After discovering Billy Antrim one night, you persuade him to travel with you. A wild and interesting adventure ensues.
Author's Note: I've spent the past several weeks reading the most incredible Billy x Reader fics, and I wanted to try my hand at writing for him. I wanted to tag a few of my favorite Billy writers, because they have inspired me to give this a try. (Thank you @billysgun @atrwriting and @goosita you guys are incredible, I admire you so much, keep doing what you're doing <3)
“It ain’t the being alone. It ain’t the empty home, baby, you know I’m good on my own. You know, it’s more the being unknown. So much of the living, love, is the being unknown.” - Unknown / Nth, Hozier
When he hears it – the footsteps – Billy’s head snaps to the side. A million thoughts run through his head. Robbers, outlaws, all-around no good men . . . They could be anywhere. They could be everywhere. Slowly, carefully, he reaches for the gun at his hip. He barely has time to touch it before the sound of a gun cocking comes from behind him. He pauses. 
“Don’t. Move,” comes your voice. Billy swallows harshly as he freezes. It’s dark aside from the campfire in front of him and the moon and stars sparkling in the sky. Billy keeps his breathing even and steady as footsteps come closer. 
“I need money,” you say.
“You’ve got the wrong man, miss,” Billy says, unmoving. “I’ve got nothin’.”
“Food, then. Got any food?” 
Billy nods towards the small pot beside the fire. 
“There’s a bit left over there.”
You circle him, and when you do, he catches a glimpse of your face, slightly shielded by an old hat. Your hair is pulled back and you wear men’s clothing. Your too-big boots thud against the grass. Even like this, Billy can tell that you're beautiful, the kind of beautiful that would bring a God-fearing man to his knees. 
You keep your gun pointed at him as you look down into the pot and then back up at BIlly. 
“It’s not enough.” 
“It’s what I’ve got.” 
“You’re lying,” you say easily. “You’re in the middle of nowhere, there’s no way you came this far with so little food. You think I’m an idiot, boy?” 
“No,” Billy shakes his head. “I mean it. That’s the last of my food.” 
You chuckle dryly, then approach Billy. 
“Keep your hands up,” you warn. You tug his gun from his holster, then step back towards the fire. Billy is now completely unarmed. He couldn’t shoot you even if he wanted to. You crouch down beside the pot. It’ll have to do, you decide, and reach in with your bare hand to scoop up the beans and bring them to your mouth. You sigh. They’re salty and warm and earthy, and they soothe the ache in your stomach. 
Billy moves slightly, you see him out of the corner of your eye, and you bring your gun up again. He freezes. 
“I was just shiftin’,” he tells you. Wordlessly, you look back down at the pot and continue to eat. Billy watches you curiously. Where are you coming from? Where are you going? And, perhaps most importantly, who are you on the run from? 
“Billy the Kid,” you say finally, wiping your hand on the grass as you get to your feet. “Hm. I didn’t recognize you at first.” 
“Do I know you?” Billy asks. 
“No. But damn near everyone in the West knows you. Ya shouldn’t be surprised.” You slowly make your way over to his horse. You open his saddle bag as Billy turns to watch you. You pull out his shotgun, humming to yourself. You set it aside, and Billy’s heart begins to race. 
“The ring,” he says quickly, making you pause, “please don’t take it. It was my ma’s.”
You halt. How strange it is, to hear William Antrim speak so desperately. You stare at him as you pull the small gold band from his bag. You hold it in your palm, and Billy watches you with a pained expression. 
“Please. She’s gone, she’s dead. It’s all I got left of ‘er.”
You shake your head. 
“I’m not heartless, Billy,” you say, and Billy nearly laughs. No, woman holding me at gunpoint, he thinks. Of course you’re not.
“I’ve lost people, too,” you tell him. You toss the ring to him, and he catches it, clutching it tightly. “I’ll advise you to keep it closer to you, though. People like me aren’t always so understanding.” 
You go back to digging through his bag but don't find much; an apple, a pocket watch, a few shirts and a pair of pants. You huff, keeping only the apple, and shove everything back into the saddle bag, including the shotgun. 
“You’re shit out of luck, Billy,” you say, stepping towards him as you bite into the apple. You wipe a bit of juice from the corner of your mouth. “No food, no water–” 
“I have water.” 
“Oh, well excuse me, then. I apologize,” you say sarcastically. Billy clenches his jaw. You sit down a good five feet away from Billy, gun still in-hand as you eat the apple. 
“God, fuck,” you breathe. Billy glances at you. “Haven’t had fruit in a month.”
“Neither have I,” Billy says flatly. 
“Mm. As I was sayin’ . . . You’re kinda fucked right now. Where’re you headed?” 
“I don’t know yet.” 
“Liar,” you say. You’re confident while you have the gun in your hand, and although you know that Billy could scramble for his shotgun, you also know that you could blow his head off before he got there. If he tries something, anything, he’s a dead man. He must know it, too.
“The next town over,” Billy says finally. “I need somewhere to stay for a while.”
“It’s about fifteen miles East,” you say. You bite into the apple again. “You know where you’re going? How to get there?” 
“I prefer to travel alone,” Billy says as he watches you. For a moment, a small, brief, fleeting moment, he wonders what you look like beneath the tattered button-up shirt. He’s only slept with a handful of women, and it’s been a long while since he’s touched himself, much less had someone else touch him. He swallows harshly. 
You lap your tongue over the dripping apple to gather the juice, then speak. 
“Right. Well, I need a man to come with me East. Nobody takes women seriously in that town, I was there a while back.” 
“Surely you don’t want to risk being recognized, then,” Billy says. You chuckle. 
“Unlike you, Antrim, I’m moving from town to town by choice. I've got nothing to hide.”
Well. That seems to answer Billy’s questions. He sighs, then looks away. Perhaps this is a good thing. Maybe a woman is what he needs. A fiery, feisty woman who will try to keep him in-line. 
“What’s in it for me?” he asks. 
You shrug.
“Money, probably. Food. A roof over your head.” 
“Until I get caught.” 
“I’ll try to keep you out of trouble if you promise to try, too.” 
Billy looks over at you. 
“I don’t even know your name.” 
You smile softly, looking at him kindly for the first time all evening. You tell him your name, and when you do, he tests how it feels to say it. You nod. 
“Right,” you say. “Ya got it.” 
Billy hums. 
“This doesn’t mean I trust you,” he says. 
“No,” you say, tossing him back his gun. “I’d hope not. You wouldn’t be a very good outlaw if you trusted someone that easily.”
Billy slips his gun back into his holster, feeling better now that he has his firearm again. You take another bite of the apple. 
“Let’s leave at dawn,” you tell him. Billy still isn’t completely convinced that this is a good idea, but he doesn’t want to argue. He doesn’t want to upset you or set you off.
“Fine,” he says. You nudge him. 
“Where are those manners you had a bit ago?” you tease, tossing the apple core aside. “‘Miss’ and ‘ma’am’. Your mama raised you right.”
“Yes, ma’am, she did,” Billy says, offering you a small, teasing smile.
***
Dawn comes, as it always does. You wake before Billy, and take it upon yourself to tidy up his things from the night before. The pot is washed and the fire is out when Billy’s eyes open, and he glances around for a moment. He sees you, and you offer him a nod. 
“Get up,” you tell him as you guide his horse over. “I’d like to get there as soon as possible.” 
Billy groans softly as he sits up on the blanket that separates him from the grass.
“You don’t have a horse? You came all this way on foot?” 
You sigh, leaning against Billy’s horse. 
“She got stolen a few miles back,” you say. “I was surprised they didn’t get yours, too.”
“Mm. Sorry to hear that,” he says as he folds up the blanket and attaches it to his saddle bag. You shake your head. 
“Not much that can be done about it now. Ya ready to go, Billy?”
He nods as he puts on his hat and approaches his horse. He holds his hand out to you and helps you up onto the saddle. He knows that you can get up yourself, but you shouldn’t have to do such a thing. Not when there’s a man around to help you.
Knowing that you won’t both fit on the saddle, Billy decides to walk. You watch him as he guides his horse. The muscles in his strong arms flex as he goes, and you find yourself staring at him more than the scenery around you. You know what this likely means, of course, but you don’t want to think about it. 
You don’t want to complicate things. 
Hours pass. The pair of you reach a town. Dust is kicked up as Billy’s horse trots through, and people bustle busily. You glance around. People stare at the two of you, and you wonder if it’s because they recognize Billy, or perhaps you from when you were here previously. You wipe sweat from your brow. 
“There’s a brothel that way,” you say, pointing to the right. “Rooms are cheap there.” 
“I thought you didn’t have much money,” Billy says, guiding his horse in the direction you pointed in. 
“I don’t,” you say. “But I have enough for us to stay somewhere for a week or so.”
You hear Billy sigh, and you clench your jaw. 
“You got a better idea?” you ask. 
“I didn’t say anything.” 
“You didn’t have to.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it,” you say. Men are so finicky, you think. You arrive at the brothel just after noon, and you get off the horse. Billy goes to follow you, and you hold your hand up. 
“Don’t. You’ll get swarmed by whores. Just stay here, let me do the talking.” 
Billy’s brow furrows slightly. 
“What if there’s trouble?” he asks. You tap the gun holstered at your hip. 
“I can handle myself.”
Without another word, you head into the brothel. You locate the owner and speak to her about a room for you and your friend. Just as you remembered, the rooms are cheap, cheap enough for you to rent a room for longer than you thought you’d be able to. You pay the owner, then step back outside. 
“Get our stuff,” you tell Billy. “I’ll take your horse to the stable.” 
Wordlessly, Billy obeys, gathering the bags before you lead his horse around the building. He steps inside. Just as you predicted, a few whores approach him. 
They gush at him, telling him how incredibly handsome he is, and how he must be tired, and how he looks like he needs a good blowjob. He politely turns them down, his cheeks warming slightly. One of the whores, a blonde woman, runs her hand over his chest. He tries not to stare at her bare breasts. 
“You stayin’ awhile?” she asks. Billy nods. She hums. “Come n’ see me sometime, won’t ya?” 
Billy offers her a kind smile. 
“I’m a busy man, I’m afraid. Don’t have time for that.” 
He hears footsteps behind him, and moments later, he’s being tugged towards the stairs of the brothel. 
“Told ya they’d flock to you,” you say as you and Billy go up to the room. You unlock the door. 
“They’re just doing their job,” he says as he steps into the room and sets the bags down. You sigh as you re-lock the door. You put your hands on your hips as you walk around the room, inspecting it. It’s not nice by any means, but it’s a roof over your head and a bed to sleep in, and that’s enough for now.
“I’ll take the floor,” he offers. You glance at him. “Y’know. When we sleep.” 
You shake your head with a sigh as you take off your hat. 
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I don’t particularly care if we share a bed,” you say. Billy doesn’t say anything. You glance at him. He’s staring at you. “What?” 
Just as he had noticed last night, you’re beautiful. And if you look this nice like this, he can only imagine what you’d look like all dolled up, or even just freshly bathed. He wonders what it would be like to touch you, to feel you beneath him, to have your body canting up towards his. 
He shakes his head slightly. 
“Nothing. Just . . . Nothing.” 
“If you want the floor, you can have it–” 
“No, no, I don’t mind either,” he says. You sit down at the edge of the bed, then lie back on it with a drawn-out sigh. 
“I’m gonna sleep good tonight,” you chuckle. Billy finds himself smiling softly. 
“Is it comfortable?” he asks. You laugh again. 
“Not at all, but it’s better than the ground.”
Billy approaches the bed and sits down beside you, leaving a gap between your bodies. He bounces a bit, and the bed frame squeaks. He hums as he stops.
“Well?” you ask, looking up at him. 
“You’re right, it’s awful.”
You hum, rubbing your eyes. 
“I know.” You sigh. “Why don’t you go downstairs and eat?”
“What’re you gonna do?” he asks. 
“Take a bath,” you say. Billy nods. He knows he should bathe too, especially if he’s going to be sleeping beside you, but he’s so, so hungry . . . 
“I’ll go after you, then,” he says, getting to his feet. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”
“Hang on.” 
Billy pauses, glancing back at you as you sit up. You gesture for him to come back towards the bed. He obliges. There is a foot or so of space between your bodies, and you look up at him with a twinkle in your eye. You know what you want to tell him, but you don’t know how to say it. You know what you want to do, but you don’t know how to get there. 
“You’re the most handsome outlaw I’ve dealt with, y’know,” you say finally, voice soft. Billy is surprised but most certainly not disappointed. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. 
“How many outlaws have you dealt with?” Billy asks. 
“Quite a few.” 
He hums. 
“I suppose that means I should be thanking you, then," he says. You reach out and tug on his belt loops, pulling him closer. You put your hands on his hips and look up at him. 
“Yes. You should.”
Billy leans down a bit. 
“Thank you, then, miss,” he says quietly. You feel his breath against you, and you let out a soft sigh as heat blooms between your thighs. Hesitantly, you bring your hand up to touch his cheek. You feel the stubble near his chin and jaw as you look into his eyes. 
“Can I–?” 
“You don’t even havta ask,” Billy tells you softly. He leans forward and presses his lips against yours. You inhale sharply as you pull him closer. He kisses you hungrily, desperately, like a man dying. You touch him wherever you can: His cheeks, his jaw, the sides of his throat, his shoulders. He gets on top of you as you scoot back on the bed. You keep one of your hands on the back of his head, which ensures that his lips stay pressed against yours while the two of you move and adjust. 
Billy tosses his hat to the side, and once he’s done that, you tug at his suspenders. You push them off of his shoulders, and you spread your legs a bit more to make room for him to comfortably fit between them. He kisses you again, hot and heavy, and you moan against his lips. 
“Please,” you sigh. He nods as he unbuttons your shirt. 
“I’ve got ya,” Billy reassures you. You kiss him as a sense of safety and security washes over you. He’s got you. He’s got you. You let him unbutton your shirt, and when your breasts are revealed, he leans down to kiss at them. You sigh at the feeling of his chapped lips on your smooth skin. You shrug the shirt all the way off so that your torso is bare, then run your fingers through his dark curls. 
“Billy,” you sigh, eyes fluttering. He hums. You want to touch him, to feel his skin against yours. You grab his collar and pull him back up so you can kiss him. You fumble with his buttons, and when you get his shirt off, you yank off his undershirt, too. You grip his bare shoulders, your hands running down to his biceps. 
“Fuck,” you breathe. He smiles softly. 
“Like what ya see?” he asks. You nod. 
“Sure do,” you tell him. When he stands back to undo his trousers, you quickly kick off your boots and stand up to push down your pants to leave you nude. You get on the bed once you’re naked, and when Billy looks back up at you, cock in-hand, he makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, a sound of pleasure. You smile as you spread your legs, feeling a bit bashful but excited nonetheless. 
Billy says your name, then. It’s a whisper, a sigh, a prayer. He gets back on top of you, and his dripping cock presses against you as he leans down to kiss you. You groan. 
“I want you inside me,” you tell him, giving his hair a gentle tug. He nods, pressing his tip against your entrance. He looks up at you, silently asking for permission, and you smile softly. 
“Billy, I love that you’re bein’ a gentleman, but I really need you to ruin me right now. We can be polite to each other later, okay?” you tell him. This makes him chuckle, a quiet, hearty sound, and he nods. 
“Okay,” he says, pushing his tip in. “Understood.”
You hum, hands moving down to his biceps. You grip him tightly as he pushes in further. 
“Oh, fuck, Billy . . .” 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head. 
“No, no, just go slow at first. Ease it in, y’know?”
Billy nods. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes teasingly, pushing in further. Your wetness coats his cock easily, and he groans at the feeling of your wet heat engulfing him. “Jesus ffffuckin’ . . .”
Your grip on him tightens as he pushes his cock all the way inside of you. You moan softly as his tip presses against the sweet spot inside of you. 
“Oh, god,” you hum. “Mm, Billy . . . Move . . .” 
His hand fits into the space where your neck meets your shoulder, and he holds you there as he begins to roll his hips. He is slow at first, gentle, but his pace quickly picks up. The bed frame creaks and groans, and you moan loudly.
“How is it?" he asks breathily, wanting to hear your praise.
“F-Feels good,” you groan as he hits that sweet spot. Your legs and thighs tremble. Your breasts bounce. Your heart races. Billy’s body is firm and strong above you, and his hold on you tightens. You lean up to kiss him, moaning against his lips. 
“So needy,” Billy says against your mouth. You moan. “Mm. S-So wet for me . . . Needed this bad, didn’t ya?”
You nod, clinging to him as if you’re the only thing keeping him here, as if he could disappear at any moment and leave you aching for more. 
“Ohmygod, Billy . . . F-Faster, I need it faster . . .”
“Mm . . . Ask nicely . . .”
His words go straight to your core, and you clench around him just to hear him grunt. You reach up to tug at his hair, and he turns his head to suck at your jaw. You let him. 
“Please,” you sigh. “P-Please, Billy . . . Make me f-feel good . . . Fuck me f-faster . . .”
Billy hums as he pulls away from your jaw. 
“Atta girl,” he breathes. He’s pounding you, now, fucking you so hard that you begin to worry that the damn bed with break. People can probably hear you, but it’s a fucking brothel, you remind yourself, and you cry out loudly. Your face is hot as Billy’s hips slam against yours. He’s grunting and groaning, and his brows are furrowed in pleasure, and you’re positive that it’s the most wonderful thing you’ve ever seen. 
“Oh, fffffuck. Billy, B-Billy, Billy . . .”
“Mm, that’s it,” he groans lowly. “Let everyone know who it is that’s makin’ you feel good.”
Your grip on his hair tightens, and he bites and sucks at your throat as he chases his orgasm quickly. Clumsily and shakily, you reach down between your bodies to rub your clit. Your hips jerk and tears of pleasure fill your eyes as you begin to rub yourself hurriedly. You know Billy is close – his thrusts are getting sloppy – and you want to cum, too.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Billy admits. He reaches for your hand that isn’t on your clit, which surprises you. His fingers intertwine with yours, and he pins you down. He’s holding my hand. He’s about to cum, and he’s holding my hand, you think. Somehow, this small act feels more intimate than anything else the two of you have done in the past several minutes. 
“Billy . . . ‘M gonna cum,” you breathe. He nods against you. 
“Do it,” he says, encouraging you. “Please. Wanna feel it.”
You close your eyes and tilt your head back. Billy kisses and nibbles at your throat again, his thrusts get harder and faster, and you apply a bit more pressure to the circles you’re rubbing on your clit–
“Oh, fuck!” you cry out loudly. Your body tenses for a moment before you relax against the mattress, pleasure coursing through you. Heat moves over you like a blanket, warming you from head to toe. You’re shaking, trembling as Billy takes you through it. 
Before you know it, he’s moaning in your ear and pulling his cock from your pussy. He jerks himself off for one second, two, three, and then he’s cumming on your stomach with a cry of your name. You watch him fall apart above you, and you never were a religious person, but this? This sight is enough to bring you to your knees. You’d worship him if it were an option. That glow, that body, that smile . . . It makes you want to weep.
Billy grunts, stroking himself until his orgasm is over, and he shakily lies down beside you with a huff. You stare up at the ceiling, still catching your breath as his arm touches yours. The reality of what the two of you have just done hits you. You just fucked Billy Antrim. And you liked it. 
You look over at him. He’s already staring. You smile. 
“Good?” he asks. You nod. 
“So good.”
He hums and wipes a bit of sweat from your brow. 
“I didn’t think a woman like you would wanna be taken like that,” he says gently. You have to give it to him, he really is a gentleman. Even after you held him at gunpoint, and told him to escort you here, and bossed him around, he's still treating you kindly. He’s still here, he isn’t getting up to leave. In fact, he’s reaching into his pocket and pulling out his handkerchief. He hands it over to you, then gestures to your cum-covered stomach. You smile softly, wipe it up, then set the handkerchief aside. 
“I’ll wash this,” you tell him. He nods, humming. His cheeks are red. You like seeing him like this, all flustered and tired. 
He sits up slowly, and you watch the muscles in his back ripple as he does. He stands up and tucks his cock back into his trousers before reaching for his undershirt. Your smile fades, and he notices. 
“I’m just hungry,” he says. “You want somethin’ from downstairs?”
You lean up on your elbows.
“Something to drink, maybe,” you say. You smile. “And whatever food you can find. I’m in no position to be picky.”
He nods as he puts on his button-up and begins to do it up. 
“I’ll do my best,” he says. Once he’s redressed, Billy glances back at you. “You gonna be okay?” 
You nod, reaching for your shirt and draping it over your naked body as you lie back against the pillows. 
“Mhm. You know I can handle myself.” 
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to.” 
You smile widely. Such a charmer.
“Go, before I undress you again,” you tell him again. He chuckles. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
You hum, getting comfortable as Billy leaves. You hear the door open and close, and you sigh. Your eyes are heavy, and the mattress feels so soft and comforting compared to what you’ve been having, and it’s so quiet . . .
***
It’s dark when you wake. You stir, put off by the blackness. You’re still naked, and when you realize this, you haphazardly pull your button-up back on. You do it up as you move over, feeling the other side of the bed. 
“Billy,” you say into the dark. There is no response. You roll your eyes. That damn bastard. You thought he was different. You thought he was a good man, a kind man. If he wanted more sex, he could have just woken you up, but no, he left you up here in the pitch black. He’s probably downstairs, drinking wine and fucking whores. 
You clench your jaw as you fumble around. You start up the lamp on the bedside table, and grab your pants off the floor. You yank them on, along with your boots, then glance around. 
“Fucking asshole,” you mutter. “Couldn’t even bring me water.” 
You grab the room key and your gun holster off of the bedside table, then yank open the door and start downstairs. The brothel is bustling now that it’s dark outside. Men and naked women are everywhere. You pull a lady aside as you buckle your holster around your hips.
“The guy I was with,” you say to her, “where’s he at?”
She shrugs, then pulls away. Anger boils inside of you. You push your way through and get to the bar. The woman behind it seems to recognize you. 
“You got water?” you ask, frustrated by the entire situation. The woman nods, then silently pours you a glass. She hands it over. You down half of it, then set the glass on the bar and wipe your mouth. 
“You’re the lady who came here with Billy Antrim,” she says finally. You look up. You’re positive that Billy wouldn’t give out his name, let alone his full name, in a place like this. You remain neutral and calm. 
“Who?” 
“The man,” the lady behind the bar says. “The one who went upstairs with you, that was Billy Antrim.” 
You cock your head. 
“What’re you getting at?” 
She blinks at you. 
“Don’t you know?” she asks.
Your brows furrow. 
“Did something happen?” 
She nearly laughs. 
“Where have you been? Asleep?”
“Where is he?” you ask sharply. Your heart is beginning to race. You have a pit in your stomach. Deep down, you know something bad has happened. The woman watches you carefully. 
“You care about him. It’s dangerous to care about people like that–” 
“Tell me where the fuck he is!” you snap, right hand reaching down to rest at your holstered gun. The woman behind the bar clenches her jaw. 
“Someone turned him in,” she says flatly. “He was taken away a few hours ago.” 
Fuck. You should have been awake, you should have been with him. You could have vouched for him, told them that they had the wrong guy. You told him you’d keep him out of trouble, and now . . .
You storm away from the bar, hurrying upstairs to get yours’ and Billy’s things. You leave in a tizzy, adrenaline pumping through you as you fetch Billy’s horse from the stable. You secure everything to the saddle, pull yourself on, and take off towards the jail. 
You tie Billy’s horse outside, then step inside. You glance around for a moment, and the jailkeep looks at you, seemingly irritated by your presence. You offer him a charming smile. 
“Sir,” you say, nodding politely as he looks you up and down. “I–”
“Visiting hours are over,” he says flatly. You hum, glancing around. You spot Billy, and your eyes linger on him for a moment. He grips the bars of the cell, watching you intently. You’ve got a look in your eyes, he realizes. He hopes you aren’t going to do what he thinks you’re going to do. He doesn’t think he’s worth the trouble. 
You look at the jailkeep again. You’re silent for a moment, and before he can tell you to get out, you’re reaching for your gun. You pull it on him and cock it. He stiffens. 
“Unlock his cell,” you say firmly. The man doesn’t move, too surprised. “Now!”
Billy watches you with wide eyes. The jailkeep rises to his feet slowly, and you keep the cocked gun pointed at him as he steps over to Billy’s cell. 
“Unlock it,” you tell him again. “Hurry up.” 
His hands tremble as he finds the right key and unlocks Billy’s cell. Billy steps out quickly, then grabs the keys from the man and shoves him into the cell. He locks him in, and you take a small step back. 
“Don’t yell,” you warn the jailkeep. “I’ll kill you, I swear to God, I’ll do it.” 
While you threaten the man, Billy hurries over to the desk to find his gun. He grabs the jailkeep’s holster off the desk, too, while he’s at it. 
“You’re fuckin’ crazy, woman,” the man says. You hum. 
“Damn right I am.” You glance at Billy. “Let’s go.”
Billy takes the keys with him, and the two of you leave the jail quickly. 
“There’s another horse over there,” you tell Billy as he runs towards his horse. He nods. 
“Go, I’ll keep watch,” he says. You fetch the horse, which you have to guess belonged to the jailkeep, and you hoist yourself up. You ride up beside Billy. 
“C’mon, haul ass,” you say, riding past him. His horse gallops after yours, and the two of you ride into the darkness. 
The severity of the situation is not lost on Billy. You’re in trouble, now. You broke the law to help him, to get him out, and you did it without hesitation. He would’ve been dead by morning if you hadn’t come to get him, and now you’re an outlaw, too. Guilt claws at him as the two of you leave town. 
“You didn’t havta do that,” he says over the sound of hooves hitting the ground. 
“I couldn’t leave you.”
Billy shakes his head. He doesn’t understand. 
“You don’t even know me,” he says, almost frustrated. What a stupid thing you just did. What a thoughtless, dangerous act. 
“I know you’re a good man,” you tell him. “And I know you don’t deserve to hang.”
Billy glances at you, his body bouncing as his horse runs up beside yours. Your eyes meet for just a moment before you look forward again. 
“I hope you’re not thinkin’ of ditching me, Antrim,” you say. He can’t help but smile softly. He wouldn’t even dream of doing such a thing. He owes you his life. 
“‘Course not,” he says. You hum. 
“Then stop lookin’ at me like that and let’s focus on getting the fuck outta here.”
God, where have you been all his life? You’re everything he’s ever needed. 
“Yes, ma’am.”
786 notes · View notes
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Paradigm Shift 2
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: you get transferred to a new position but it’s hardly a breath of fresh air. (plus!reader)
Characters: Loki, Bucky Barnes, this reader is known as Billie.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼
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You finally get access to the calendars and set to work. Thor wasn’t exaggerating. Overlapping blocks, unanswered RSVPs, overdue items. You do your best to sort through it all, ignoring the ache in your knees until you have to reposition on the hard floor. You don’t think this is ergonomically safe work. 
When you get a handle on Laufeyson’s calendar and start on Barnes’ the door to your left swings open and before you can react, the box is on its way across the floor. You’re not quite sure how you managed it, but you saved your laptop before it could go with it. The contents scatter as you hold up the computer and puff out. 
Mr. Laufeyson steps back and huffs as he crosses his arms, “what are you doing on the floor?” 
“Well, sir, I tried to say something before but...” You brace the wall and stand, “I do need a desk--” 
“Yes, yes, find one,” he tries to shoo you with his long fingers. 
“I tried, sir. I don’t see any available down here--” 
“Have them bring your old one down,” he demands tersely. 
“Yes, sir, will do,” you frown. “And er, I’ve got your calendar figured out.” 
“Mm, do you now?” He challenges as his eyes drift by you. 
You turn and look down at your possessions as they lay strewn. Right. You turn and go about collecting it all and shove it back into the box. When you’re done, he’s gone. Great. 
You hitch up the box and stand, blowing out a breath. It’ll take some time to get movers to deal with your desk. Nothing ever happens in a timely manner around here. As you resign yourself to taking up space in the breakroom, Mr. Barnes’ door opens. 
You face him as you hug the cardboard, “sir, I'm working on your calendar. I just need to--” 
“You need a desk,” he says promptly. 
“Yes, sir, I was just going to call the movers--” 
“Nonsense,” he snaps his fingers and signals you to follow him. 
You shut your mouth and nod. You trail after him as he strides down the hall into the bullpen. His long brown hair flicks under his ears and away from his neck, a few strands caught in his collar. He stops and puts his hands on his hips, scanning the room. 
“Hackett,” he points without looking, “pack your stuff. You’re fired.” 
A man with a shining bald head grunt, “sir?” 
“You heard me. You missed that Southeast order. Won’t happen again. So leave.” 
“Mr. Barnes,” the man you assume is Hackett stands, “Southeast--” 
“Your paperwork is down with HR. You can get sorted there,” Barnes overrides him, “clear out your desk.” 
Hackett winces and looks down at his computer, defeated. You stand speechless as Barnes faces you, “there, you got a desk. You’re welcome.” 
“Sir, thank you,” you murmur. 
“Call the movers anyway, they’ll need to move it closer.” 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Actually, fuck it,” he jabs his finger in the air and marches away.  
You stand dumbly as you are as Hackett packs up and you try not to make eye contact. You hear Barnes low rumble from the hallway before he reappears with Laufeyson at his back. They approach Hackett and the latter swipes his arms to clear off the desk of the small bits and bobs. The terminated employee cries out in horror. 
Barnes rips out the extension cord from the wall and tucks it under. The two men each take an end and lift the desk, balancing the monitor and essentials on top as they carry it past the employees who try not to crane to see. You’re in disbelief, humiliated by the unnecessary scene of your transfer. You could’ve waited for the movers. 
You make yourself move and catch up to them as they plant your desk at the crux of the hallway. You’re the gatekeeping of the domain, sat right where everyone will have to walk by you. Great. 
The plunk it down and clap off their hands. You wonder how long it’s been since they did that amount of manual labour. Laufeyson nods and strides off as Barnes frames his hips triumphantly. 
“I’m a man that gets things done, doll,” he declares, “let that set the tone.” 
You attempt a smile but it probably just looks like a weird twitch, “yes, sir. I’ll have your agenda ready each day before you get here.” 
“You will,” he agrees, “before his.” 
He spins and stops before he can stride away, “coffee. That’s what I came out for. Dark roast, black.” 
“Sure thing, sir,” you set the box on the desk and go to step around it. 
“Ah, not that shit, Roasters’ down on King.” 
You take a breath and grab your purse from on top of the box, “dark roast, black.” 
“Good girl,” he caps off the conversation before he struts off, hands in his pockets. 
Right. They are both awful. This is going to be like pulling teeth. You already miss Odinson’s demands. At least he gave them. These two seem too far up their own asses to bother. 
You take out your phone and check the group chat. Ugh, yes. Drinks. You swear, if there isn’t alcohol at the end of this day, you’re going to cry. 
179 notes · View notes
intheorangebedroom · 2 months
Text
The corner deli, part 2
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Summary: Frankie takes you on a second date. Somehow, firearms are still involved...
Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader
Rating: Explicit 🔞
A/N:  Happy Frankie Friday, Orange besties 🧡 Thank you so much for your kind response to part 1! I hope you like this part too (pun intended). And please, see the end notes 🧡
Word count: 4.1k (I managed to cram in nearly all my kinks, can I get a woot woot?)
[part 1] [blog masterlist]
Part 2: Crimson and Clover
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“Isn’t it cheating, though?”
The carnival rifle looks comically small between his hands. He presses the trigger, and a fourth balloon explodes with a loud popping sound, amplified by the wooden box. You jump. He doesn’t even blink.  
“How is it cheating?” he asks, looking down at you with a cocked eyebrow as he casually reloads a tiny lead bullet into the rifle’s barrel. Wow. Competency, much?
“Well, you were in the Army. Don’t they train you to shoot at stuff?” you ask, eyes trained on the little target inked on his left hand.
He shrugs. 
“You want that teddy bear, or not?”
“I do. I do want the teddy bear. It’s– it’s a plush Grogu, but yes, I do want it.”
“The plush green alien, yea.”
You make a face, taking mock offense.
The date —he said it was a date, so you guess you can call it that, right?— has been going extremely well, so far. Conversation flowing easy, stolen glances that don't make you wanna crawl out of your skin; he’s asked you a lot of questions, but it didn’t feel forced. You’re not sure if your brain is not gonna ask for payback at 3am on a Sunday, but you're feeling relaxed and at ease. He’s paid for everything, the diner, the rides, even the cotton candy, but he didn’t make a show of it. You could get used to this. The hanging out, that is, not necessarily the paying for everything part. 
“I’m teasin’ you. I love Star Wars too.”
“You do? Wait, are you one of those fans who’s gonna tell me I am not a real fan because I haven’t read all the books and comics and I can’t speak Jawa, but really it’s because I got a vagina?”
“Do I look like the kind of man who feels threatened by a vagina?” 
Oh. Oh shit. Ok.  
“Guess not,” you whisper, ducking your head so he can’t see your cheeks, that are fucking burning up. 
“Star Wars is actually the reason I became a pilot.”
He brings the butt stock of the rifle to his shoulder, adjusting his aim, and oh boy, he’s a sight to behold. That poor t-shirt of his is pulled taut across the breadth of his shoulders, seams ready to burst. You admire the way his thick finger slides around the trigger guard, and in, before another balloon goes BOOM. 
The young man keeping the stand lets out an ostentatious sigh. He grabs a long pole with a hook at the end to get you the toy, but really, it looks more like it’s a pitchfork he’s gonna chase you away with.  
“How’s that?” you manage to articulate. 
“Han Solo is the coolest, and I wanted to be as cool as Han Solo.” 
He gives you a shy grin, setting the rifle down on the counter. 
“Shut up! I wanted to be Leia!”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“Is that so?” he asks, taking a step closer to you.
Oh. Oh. 
Oh, that’s close. He’s crowding you against the counter, towering over you, his heady scent wrapping around you and he gives you that cocky look that turns your legs into Jell-o.
“Yeah,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to stare at the dip between his collarbone, and the little freckles on the tanned skin of his neck. 
The stand employee shoves the ginormous Grogu into your back, propelling you into Frankie’s chest. The man is HOT. Like, really hot. His skin is on fire, you can feel the heat through his threadbare t-shirt.
“Can I take you and Grogu home now, or is it too fast?” he says, his breath fanning your lips. “I don’t know how these things are supposed to work.”
Oh god, his hips are pressing into yours.
“I’ve no idea either, but I think you’re doing fine.”
“Yea?”
“Mmh mmh,” is the only sound you manage to produce.
“Good. Let’s go. Gonna make you see stars,” he adds, pushing away from you, and he immediately winces at the lame joke.
“Wow. Really?” you laugh. 
He flinches, hiding his pretty face under the brim of his hat.
“Fuck…”
Well, he wasn’t lying. You saw stars. And then you saw stars again. And again. And then you saw some more.
But the first thing you see when you get to his place is how clean it is. Tidy, but in a lived-in way.  
It’s a one-bedroom apartment on the fourth floor of a brick building. The kitchen sink is empty, a single plate and set of cutlery drying on the metal rack next to it. Some magnets adorn the fridge, among which you recognize a picture by Manuel Álvarez Bravo, and another by Berenice Abbott, and you try to police your expression because these are your two favorite photographers and that’s a pretty freaky coincidence, right? 
You step into the living-room while he washes his hands. It’s cozy. A soft amber glow pours in from the streetlights through the three narrow windows, behind a big slouchy leather couch. There’s a plant that looks alive and well on the console next to it, and an entire wall of seemingly handmade shelves, lined with books. The TV is old, downright ancient, and there’s a turntable propped onto a vintage stereo. An opened book lies face down on the coffee table. 
You crane your neck to read the title. Engineering Circuit Analysis. Okay, so that won’t be a conversation starter. 
You don’t know if the place always looks this tidy or if he cleaned it because he thought you might be coming over, and you’re not sure if the sheer assumption shouldn’t be a red flag, given it’s only the second time you’re seeing the guy, but you find that you don’t care. You really don’t. Not in the least. 
He joins you in the living-room, but he doesn’t turn the lights on. He’s taken his hat off and he’s combing his fingers through his thick mane of curls, and that sight alone was worth driving all the way here in his truck. 
“Want something to drink?” he asks, and that’s a very good question, do you want something to drink? 
You should, probably, because your mouth is so dry you can’t even gulp, and your nerves could use some alcohol, but you just stand here, like an idiot, watching him walk slowly toward you, wondering how close he’s gonna get before he stops walking.
Very close, apparently.
He looks so fucking tall and broad, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it, but then again, it’s only the second time you see him. He leans over you, you have to twist your neck up to keep your eyes on his, but really, what you want to do is chew on his lips. Or his neck. You’re not picky.
He hooks his index fingers into the belt loops of your jeans to draw you in. Fuck, now your panties are ruined.
Time goes in slow motion as he licks his lips, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your mouth. 
“I’m gonna kiss you now. Is it ok?”
“Yes, please.”
Yes, please, Jesus fucking Christ, can you get any more cringe?
“There’s a lot of things I’m wanna do to you, if I gotta be honest,” he adds.
Oh, there, you can gulp. You think people might have heard you swallow from the other side of town.
“Okay. You can… do your worst, Morales.”
“You sure? Because my worst is… You need to tell me if–”
“Yes. I’m sure. You got my consent. All of it. Please.”
Who needs dignity? Not you. Not today.
“You’re fucking adorable, you know that? I am going to ruin you.”
You hate meeting new people. Meeting guys. You hate that whole dance, when you have to pretend you don’t really wanna fuck each other, oh but really you do, you hate getting undressed in front of a literal stranger, the awkwardness of it, new skin, new touch, everything grosses you out and you feel like curling into a ball inside your own skin, waiting for it to be fucking over. 
But this, this is different. Of course, it’s different, everything has been since you’ve laid eyes on him across that aisle in the corner deli.
You want him. God, you’re practically vibrating with it. And you want him to want you, too. 
He presses his lips to yours, and it’s subtle, the delicate, albeit insistent press of it, testing but also very much signifying you he’s gonna do everything he said he would, pulling you closer with your belt loops. 
Fuck it, you think. Fuck it. You want this. All of it. The taste of him and the weight of him and his touch and his skin. 
Your eyes flutter shut and you lean into the kiss with a quiet little moan, your hands traveling up his large back, balling his t-shirt in your fists. He doesn’t miss a beat, his hand comes up to cup your face, fingers carding through your hair and you feel the wet glide of his tongue, prompting you to open. 
You do. Oh god, you do, and you taste the cotton candy as he licks into you. There’s the little tickle from his mustache, the pressure on your waist, the sparkling tingle along your spine and everything is delicious. His other hand is kneading at the curve of your hip, sliding down to your ass and he grabs you there, strong fingers splayed right between your cheeks, it’s firm and hungry and commanding.
He pulls you flush into him, and with a gently swaying motion against your belly, he lets you feel it. Feel what you do to him. Feel how much he wants you.  
Your body goes slack and tense at the same time, loose limbs, loose chest, clenching cunt and hardening nipples. 
“Fuck,” he gasps, pulling away just a bit, “fuck, you’re sweet.”
He doesn’t give you time to answer, not that you’d know what to say, his mouth is on yours again, his plush lips a perfect fit against yours, his tongue swirling inside you. And the kiss lingers, languid, unhurried, his hands roaming your figure, strong and slow, kneading your curves and using the grip to press you closer and closer into him.
When your fingers thread through his hair, you give his locks a little tug that has him grunting into your mouth. He breaks the kiss, but his mouth remains on you, lips sucking along the edge of your jaw, teeth scraping down your throat, slick pooling sticky and wet between your hips. 
There’s the ghost of a bite over your pulse point; you moan into it and suddenly, time accelerates. His kisses get frantic, he’s devouring you, only lifting his lips off your skin to tug off your t-shirt, deft fingers unclasping your bra. You pull so hard on his shirt you might as well rip it, but he only bites you harder, pushing into you stronger. The back of your knees hit the coffee table, you fall onto the couch. 
And that’s when everything slows again.
His gaze, raking over your naked breasts as he stands before you. His tongue darting between his parted lips. His movements, as he unbuckles his belt. 
You get lost in the sight of his chest, bare, broad, golden in the orange semi-darkness. 
“Take off the rest of your clothes, baby,” he says, and the endearment shoots right through you. 
You’re never recovering from this night, this much you can tell. You’ll want this man forever, you are so fucked. 
You manage to get rid of your shoes and your jeans, but it’s a damn miracle with how much your hands are shaking. He’s toed off his boots and unbuttoned his pants without taking his eyes off you even for a split second. 
There’s something carnivorous in the half-smile dancing on his lips. He’s palming the bulge tenting his black boxer briefs, and you’re about to slide off your panties without a second thought when he stops you. 
“Wait. Bedroom. C’mere.”
Yes, sir. 
You stand up on wobbly legs and his hand skims around the curve of your hip, down the swell of your ass. He takes your arm, lifts it up to wrap around his neck, and you follow, diligently, circling your other arm around his broad shoulders. 
He picks you up like you fucking weigh nothing, how strong is this guy? What do they feed them in the Army? 
He keeps you there for a moment, your legs wrapped around his tapered waist, skin on skin, his head slightly tilted up and his eyes boring into yours. His hands grasping your ass cheeks, a bruising grip, the tip of his fingers reaching into that hollow curve at the top of your thighs, under the line of your panties, where you’re soaked with want for him. 
Your heart is beating so fast, pounding so hard, it’s going to tear out of your chest. Land right into his. 
The crease in his brow deepens, his gaze on you intensifies, thoughts clouding his rich brown eyes. He opens his mouth, as if to say something, but closes it again.   
“Frankie—” you start, but he cuts you in. 
“Wait. I need to know this is not a one-time thing. I’m gonna see you again, right?”
“Oh,” you breathe out.
There are people laughing outside in the street. The sound of a police siren in the distance. A dog barking. You commit everything to memory. The amber darkness, the city noises, the hope in his eyes. The sensation of his strong hold, and that of your hardened nipples grazing his chest. 
“Yes. Yes, please,” you whisper, and he smiles, that wide dimpled smile you’d do everything for, his fingers burrowing a little deeper into your flesh. 
He carries you into the bedroom, bathed in the same orange semi-darkness, and lays you onto his bed. You sink into the fluffy cottony material of the comforter that smells like him. Leather and musk and safety. He hovers over you, eyes locked on yours. 
He rocks gently into you, just a faint press, his waist spreading your hips open, his hands roaming along the expanse of your naked skin, palming your breasts. The fabric of his tight boxers catches at your soaked panties, the button of his jeans biting into your belly. 
“Can I taste you?” he asks, his voice a low husk, and for a second, you think he’s asking if he can kiss you again, but you quickly register, and your eyes grow wide. 
You nod, unable to articulate around the anticipation swelling in your throat. 
He makes a start at moving over you, but stops, and instead leans in to kiss you again. A wide, hungry kiss, licking into you avidly, pressing into you greedily, swallowing your moans as your fingernails run through his nape and into his hairline. 
He pulls away, and you all but whine, chasing his lips, rising to your elbows. Unwavering, he moves down on the bed, and there’s another flash of that carnivorous smile as he takes off his jeans, as he kneels between your legs. 
You watch, wide-eyed and ragged breath, as he brushes his knuckles along that curve at the top of your thigh, thick fingers hooking under the elastic band of your panties, pulling it to the side. He smiles at you again, before his head dips. 
His tongue parts your fold, and your head lolls back between your shoulders with a strangled cry. His hand pushing up the back of your knee, spreading you wider than you ever thought your body capable of, he licks into you with a rumbling groan. 
The curled tip of his tongue dives deep into your cunt, tasting you with thorough strokes, but he lifts his head with a pained grunt and a sliver of self-consciousness rips through your chest. 
“Fuck, baby, I think you’re going to ruin me.”
Your arms buckle, your back hitting the mattress, and he slides your panties down, twisting them around his wrist, before hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, and he buries his face into your cunt again. 
The wet glide of this tongue is hot and heavy, licking in broad stripes, sucking on your clit, thrusting into you. Arousal pools in, sticky and rich, at the base of your spine, streaming down your walls. You moan and wither against his mouth, and he chases your movements, cueing his ministrations to your reactions. 
Wet, explicit sounds fill the bedroom. He plays you like an instrument, your hips bucking against his face, wanton whimpers spilling out of you like music, fingers threading through his curls, and he brings you close, so close to your release, without ever letting you tip over the edge.
He’s taking his sweet time about it, true to his word, and you're begging now, sweet little moans you didn’t know your voice could carry, Frankie, Frankie please.
Gently, he eases your legs down, sitting back on his haunches on the bed. It’s a hitched breath, a broken little cry as cold air hits your soaked cunt but he runs a soothing hand along your inner thigh. 
“Shh, I got you, baby. I got you.”
Empty. The word flashes through your dazed brain, and you turn your head to the side to hide your face in the comforter. 
You’re empty, and you want him to fill you up. And you don’t know what you’re hiding from, if it’s from him or the embarrassment of being so fucking needy or the magnitude of your desire, but there’s this abyss inside you only him can fill and fuck, you’ve never felt this vulnerable before. Why now? Why him?
His finger presses at your entrance and you let out a quivering breath. A shallow thrust, an easy glide, and he adds another. Your back arches with relief. A flex of his digits, and he’s stroking a soft spot inside your cunt you didn’t know existed. 
With your last shred of strength, you lift your head up. He’s watching you, his boxers pulled down, practiced fingers circling his cock, dragging slowly up and down along the length of it. The orange glow from the streetlights ripples over his skin in amber shades and dark shadows. Your eyes trace the broad span of his chest, his strong, corded neck, the dark crown of his curls. 
The man looks like a fucking god.  
“Jesus,” you whimper, and he chuckles, that wolfish smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The bottom half of his face glints in the semi-darkness, shiny with your slick. Precome dribbling over his knuckles. This is fucking filthy. You revel in it.
Your head drops with a soundless laugh, hips swaying along with his stroking fingers. 
You’re going to lose your mind with how good it feels, you think, but then it gets even worse, or better, when he lowers his thumb to your clit, rubbing smooth circles over it and your chest heaves with a silent plea. 
Soon, a tremor sizzles along your thighs, your release coiling brisk and strong at the center of you. It builds up like electricity, like liquid fire, potent and fast and white-hot.
Your entire body is alight with it, it travels down every nerve-ending and you come undone, you fucking unravel, his name dragging out on your lips. 
He lowers himself to slant his mouth over your cunt and you recoil, but he’s careful, his tongue darting swiftly into you, drinking your release with greedy groans. 
When he’s sure to have it all, he moves back over you, his face out of focus through your glazed eyes, the bulk of him engulfing you, his heady scent filling your lungs. 
“Wanna taste how sweet you are?” he asks, and you nod, sprawled out, boneless, pliant. 
His hand hinges your jaw open, thumb on your bottom lip. His spit rolls down his tongue into your open mouth and his hooded eyes, black with want, flicker down to your throat as you swallow it all. 
“Oh, you’re a good girl,” he marvels, and the praise is like a shockwave, like a second high, it coats your palate and sticks to your skin. You could swear it’s fucking tangible. 
You need more, more of him, more of that, but you’re not sure what’s next. This is uncharted territory. No man has ever prioritized your pleasure over his, before. 
You lift your hips off the mattress, bucking into him, but he frowns.
“If you need time—”
“I need you inside me,” you plead. 
“It’s a lot more than two fingers, baby,” he warns and yes, you can tell, with the heavy weight of his cock thrumming hot and angry against your belly. 
“I can take it.”
He huffs a smile, but it quickly falls when you tip your chin, wrapping his thumb between your lips. Your tongue curls around the pad of it as you suck on it, and you hear him gulp. One all. 
Oh, but he was right, it’s more, much more than two fingers, and his first thrust, however gentle, however shallow, has you squirming around the stretch of him. Your fingernails digging into his arms, he grunts with the effort, pushing in slowly, pulling out, and in again, sweat beading along his spine, restraint tensing his jaw. 
You lift your head, scraping your teeth over that bare patch in his scruffy jaw. 
“I can take it,” you repeat, and he growls, head dropping into the curve of your neck, sinking his sharp teeth into the soft skin at the base of your throat. 
He shoves himself in down to the base, and you cry out, but he doesn’t stop. He moves into you. With deep thorough thrusts, fast-paced and rough, he fills you up, just like you wanted, just like you asked, skin catching around his girth at your entrance. Sucking hard on the tender skin of your neck, sharp little bruises blooming in purple flecks along the column of your throat. 
Knees hitched up high along his sides, you feel sweat breaking on your forehead as you ease into his relentless rhythm, into the impossible size of him, into the pleasure-pain, because this is what you wished for. To feel him tonight. To feel him still tomorrow. And perhaps the day that follows. 
His grunts fan the shell of your ear, sending more slick rushing down your walls. His hand squeezes your breast, his trigger finger and thumb pinching your nipple, merciless, and your cunt starts to flutter along his length, a frantic collapsing of your walls, eyes clenched shut under your pinched brow. 
“Oh god, I’m so close,” you whine, and he straightens up without breaking his rhythm. 
“I wanna see your face when you come on my cock”, he growls, hooking his elbow under your knee, using it for leverage to bear you down on his cock as he picks up the fucking pace. 
His broad hand splayed reverently over your belly, the heel of it is a steady pressure over your clit, and when you come, your whole body quaking with the force of your second relief, he quickly follows, pulling out just in time to spurt thick pearly ropes over your quivering skin. 
“Oh shit, look at you,” he pants, before he collapses on the bed next to you, chest heaving. 
You lie there side by side for a beat, the room around you slowly coming back into focus. That damn dog is still barking, the night traffic a low and distant hum. 
Would it… would it be okay, acceptable, if you gathered his come with your fingers and licked them clean? Could you ask him to fuck your mouth, next? Or should you scamper off the bed to gather your clothes and leave? What’s the common protocol here? No one has ever turned you into this feral, greedy little monster before.  
He clears his throat. Oh fuck, that’s it. He’s gonna politely hint that you should now be leaving the premises. 
“Can you stay the night?”
Your eyes flutter shut. A hindered little sob rattles inside your chest. You address a heartfelt thank you to your lucky star for the midnight cravings that placed you in that corner deli the same night as him. Fuck, you’ll throw one in for that armed robber too.
“Do you want me to stay?” you ask.
He turns to his side to face you, folding his arm and propping his chin in his hand. His soft brown eyes meet yours. And there’s that gentle smile that swells up your heart three sizes.
“Yes, please.”
****
End note: the opening scene is very much inspired by one of the fair scenes in Anchor Stitch, on Ao3. Not for every one, but one of my all-time favourites. Also, this is fanfiction, so I wasn't going to bother with a fucking condom, but I know you're smarter than that.
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cranberryjuice-posts · 7 months
Note
Hiiiii! I love your clarisse stuff!!!! Can you pleaseeee do a fic where Clarisse says something mean to R and they get upset so Clarisse goes to comfort them!!! You’re free to make it your own. i love your writingggg!
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- don’t say I’m to much -
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Girly! Reader
An - guys send me more clarisse FIC ideas but also request Abby to pretty please
An Pt 2 - this lowkey sucked ass bc I was distracted while writing it but yall will live
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Sitting by the bonfire, Clarisse beside and the comforting atmosphere brought you a sense of comfort. Clarisses Hands found themselves under your tanktop, rubbing the small of your back as you continued to sing with everyone else.
“What are You doing” You giggled once the song ended, looking up at clarisse with a dumb smile. “I’m keeping my hands warm”
“There’s a fire right there”
“This was is warmer though”
Laughing some you tilted your head up just to give her a kiss. Most nights clarisse wasn’t this clingy but on a special occasions she preferred to have you close to her.
After a few moment you had noticed a long forgotten face across the fire. One of your first friends at camp was a son of Hermes names Logan “Oh my gods Logan!” You excitedly yelled.
Giving a kiss goodbye to clarisse you quickly ran to the blonde tackling him in a hug. Clasisse knew you were close with the son of hermes but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
Watching during your conversation with him, his hands rubbed your waist and hips which rubbed her the wrong way. What finally set her off however was the sheer audacity this man had to slide his hands under your shirt but to also peek at your showing cleavage.
Without realizing it clarisse got up and walked towards where you two stood— away from the fire.
“Oh! This is my girlfriend clarisse” You happily introduced the girl, quickly being cut off though as she decked him in the nose making the boy fall over, blood dripping down his face.
Standing in shock you turn led to clarisse yelling at her “what is wrong with you!”
“He was being a creep am I not allowed to defend you anymore” she scoffed trying to play off the entire situation.
The campers around the fire went quiet, turning to watch what had just happened. The Apollo and a few hermes kids ran over worried.
Watching as they helped the boy to the infirmary clarisse tried to grab your arm only for you to push her off of you and walk away. “Babe wait!” Clarisse yelled after you.
Once at your cabin you stumbled to open the door giving clarisse just enough time to catch up. “What’s wrong”
“What’s wrong?! Your seriously asking me what’s wrong? Clarisse you just decked my best friend!” You spoke louder than you should of.
“Well excuse me for protecting my girlfriend from a Fucking Creep”
“He’s not a creep!” Both of you yelling at each-other to the point that your voice had broke. “I don’t need you to beat the shit out of ever guy who looks at me wrong”
“Well maybe if you didn’t dress like a fucking slut all the time then I wouldn’t have to.!”
Clarizse knew she had fucked up as soon as she said it. “Wait pl—“ you finally managed yo get the door open, slamming it in her face.
In her cabin That Night all of her siblings knew to just leave her alone, especially with a few new holes in the wall none of them wanted to face her anger.
——
You couldn’t sleep. The thought of clarisse calling you a slut replayed constantly. Did she really think that low of you..
Shaking that thought out of your mind you went upstairs. Going to the balcony all you wanted right now was some fresh air. However what. You didn’t expect to see was clarisse lifting herself up and over the wooden railing. You both made awkward eyecontact
Crossing your arms you looked her up and down. “Go”
“Wait please” clarisse grunted finally getting over the railing and walking towards you, grabbing your arm she turned you around. “Please just five minutes, no arguing no yelling… Ill just talk, I won’t say something that I’ll regret please I’m just asking for five minutes.” Her tone breathless most likely from the climb up
Being with clarisse for as long as you’ve been not once have you seen her act this vulnerable.. nodding your head slowly you relaxed letting clarisse speak. “Im sorry.. im so so sorry… your not a slut I should of never yelled that to you I just, I got mad.. Logan had his hands under your shirt and he was blatantly looking at your cleavage and it’s not that I don’t like you wearing revealing clothes I do I just..I don’t like seeing people taking advantage of you”
It was quiet at first. Clarisse letting out a deep breath, only to be met with you kissing her lightly. “Next time.. you feel like that, don’t deck someone in the nose maybe talk to me about it and use your words not actions”
“Yeah.. Yeah” she mumbled, kissing her once again. “I’m still mad at you though”
“I know”
“Good” You remained neutral but led her inside.
You both laid down on your bunk, laying close in clarisses arms you were finally able to fall asleep. Were you going to have a talk about it in the morning, probably. But right now you didn’t care about that all you cared about was Her.
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fazedlight · 7 months
Text
Confusion (Late S6 vibes. I found a use for William… I’m sorry?)
The Catco elevators opened to a chaotic scene as Lena stepped out. Despite being afterhours - it had just passed 6pm - employees were shuffling around everywhere, with frequent murmurs and occasional shouts flying by.
“Looking for Kara?” Nia said, passing by Lena while holding a large stack of papers on the brink of falling. Lena opened her mouth to speak, but Nia didn’t wait for an answer. “She’ll be back in a few minutes, I think she’s meeting with Andrea.”
Lena nodded as Nia quickly disappeared into the backrooms. Guess this is normal when they crash the issue, Lena thought, making her way to Kara’s desk and setting down the mocha and pastries she had brought from Noonan’s. She had been lucky to get there just before closing, after Kara’s text that they’d have to skip movie night in favor of a late night at work.
“Lena,” came a deep voice behind her, “What are you doing here?”
Lena turned, nodding to William as he approached. “Just bringing Kara some stuff,” she said, gesturing to Kara’s desk. “Late night for you too?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Hopefully the last, before I move back to London.”
“You’re moving?”
“Looking forward to going home,” William said. “I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. Just enough time to hand off my responsibilities at Catco.”
“Going back to The Times?” Lena asked.
William nodded. His eyes drifted to the coffee and sweets, and Lena noticed a tinge of confusion. “I best get going,” he said, not remarking on what he was thinking. “The senator’s fraud case means I have an article to rewrite.”
“Good luck,” Lena said, as he waved and left. Lena turned back, finding Kara as she rounded the corner with Andrea. Kara met Lena’s eyes, and the blonde smiled wide.
---
“You smell like smoke,” Lena said, brushing ash off of Kara’s shoulder, eyeing the charcoal hues that tinged her supersuit.
“A forest fire will do that,” Kara said, practically shaking like a dog to get other ash off her hair. “Luckily we got it before it spread very far.”
William glanced over curiously from where he was jotting notes. He had been working with Alex and Brainy on mapping out city hotspots when Supergirl had arrived back from her firefighting. It hadn’t taken long for Lena to make her way out of the lab and go up to the super.
“I think we gotta spray you down,” Lena teased.
“Brainy said the nanobots can handle it,” Kara said, tossing her hair back. “I just gotta deactivate at some point.”
“Yeah, you gonna get around to that soon?”
“Will you two knock it off?” Alex said, her voice aggrieved. “Some of us are trying to get work done.”
The two had the good sense to look a little bashful, and William glanced over curiously. From his side, he could hear Alex mutter “just good friends, my ass”, and he watched as Supergirl threw her head up towards Alex, flushing slightly, and seeming suddenly unable to look a confused Lena in the eye.
This is going a bit too far, William thought, eyes darting to Lena. Flirting with Kara? And Supergirl?
---
“Well, it’s been great working with you,” Supergirl said, extending her hand.
William returned the gesture, then doing similar with Alex, and J’onn, and Lena. “Please do keep in touch,” he said. “I’d love to hear from you when you’re back in London.”
“Have a safe fli-” Supergirl suddenly turned her head.
“Something going on?” Alex asked. 
“Bank robbery downtown. Might be a big one,” Supergirl said. “Safe flight, William. We’ll see you later.”
William nodded as Supergirl left, J’onn and Alex following. That left him behind with Lena, who didn’t frequent the field unless magic was afoot. Which left him a bit grateful for the chance…
“Well, William-”
“Don’t break her heart, Lena.”
Lena’s brows furrowed, utterly perplexed. “What?”
“I see you,” William said, a serious expression on his face. “The way you flirt with Supergirl. The way you flirt with Kara.”
“Kara- flirt-” Lena’s eyes widened.
“Look, they’re both clearly interested in you,” William said. “All I’m saying is be clear with your intentions. Kara doesn’t deserve a broken heart.”
“I don’t have intentions. With- with either of them,” Lena answered.
William’s face tensed with skepticism. I’ve said my piece, he decided. “It’s been great working with you, Lena.”
---
William tilted his head back against the plane’s headrest. The 5hrs from National City to Metropolis had been annoying enough. Now it’d be another 6hrs to London. I hope I can get more sleep this flight, he thought, glancing out over the Atlantic Ocean. 
He looked down at the gossip rag he had purchased in Metropolis Airport, beginning to flip through it. It was mindless garbage, hopefully boring enough to lull him to sleep. 
As he turned the pages, he was surprised to find a picture of Kara Danvers and Lena Luthor - but then again, it was only a matter of time. It’s just so fucking obvious, William thought, wondering if the tabloid suspicions would force Lena to choose.
But he was also unsettled - it was an odd location. To any casual reader, it would simply be a random picture on the street, the two perhaps on the way to get a cup of coffee. But he knew they were just feet away from the Tower. A location that, according to Alex Danvers, Kara had no awareness of.
He stared, and stared. Would Lena be so foolish to ask Kara to meet there?, he thought, knowing the Luthor was too smart to make such a casual mistake.
That’s when his already-jetlagged brain began to scan Kara again. The blonde hair. The emphatic voice. The way she fiddled with her glasses. The way Lena flirted with her, just like- 
Wait, William thought, startling awake with a shot of adrenaline. Wait, WHAT?!
---
It was early morning when Lena took her seat at a lab bench, her mind still swimming from William’s observation the day before. Have I really been that obvious?, she wondered to herself. Does Kara know? And if she does, she hasn’t said anything because… 
Lena put her face in hands. God, I hope I haven’t been making a fool of myself.
“Are you okay?” came a voice.
Lena’s head popped up, finding Kara wandering into her lab, a hint of concern highlighting the blonde’s face. “Your heartbeat is fast,” Kara said, “I just came over to - to see if something was wrong.”
“I’m fine,” Lena said, her voice a high-pitched squeak.
“Lena,” Kara said, taking a seat next to Lena, pulling her into a hug. “Lena, I’m here.”
Lena sighed, relaxing into Kara’s arms. What am I so afraid of?, she thought to herself. That Kara doesn’t feel the same way? That our friendship will change? While the first was the only likelihood Lena could really see, the second… just didn’t seem like a real possibility. 
Lena pulled back from the hug, gazing into Kara’s face. Didn’t we learn we should be honest so long ago?, she thought. Even when it’s hard? “William… said choose,” Lena said slowly, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, “Between Kara and Supergirl.”
“Choose?” Kara said, confused.
“I’ve, er,” Lena swallowed harshly. “I’ve apparently been flirting. With both of you.”
Kara’s eyes widened. “On purpose?”
“No…”
“Oh.”
She sounds… disappointed?, Lena thought, and she knew Kara could hear her heart beginning to pound a little faster. “I- I can do it on purpose? If you want.”
And this time Lena felt a growing joy in watching Kara flush. “I’d like that. And, um,” Kara paused, shifting shyly. “Maybe after we do that for a while, I can ask you on a date?”
Lena smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
------------------------
This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I did do a 9-word fic for it - but then I figured hey, may as well write out the full thing.
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magics-neptunes-things · 10 months
Text
Camping Love
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Hi guys :)
This one is based on this request, I hope everyone will like it :) First time writing for Lia, but she's like the sweetest girl ever, so enjoy :)
Resume : Your girlfriend take you camping in Switzerland.
TW : None.
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You were not surprised when Lia proposed to you to go camping. You know how much she loves being outside. She can pass hours picking up leaves in her garden, walking tirelessly in the forest and simply enjoy the fresh air whenever she has the opportunity. It's therefore no surprise to anyone that her choice of home was a small house set back from the city, close to nature. Even if it lengthens her journey to work every day.
You’re not a footballer, it’s actually Leah Williamson who played matchmaker between you two. After Lia's break-up, the blonde made the decision to present her the one she imagined perfect for her, not wishing that her friend suffers again. It just so happens that one of her childhood friends was back in town, single after a recent breakup. You.
Things with Lia took a little time to set up, both suspicious to open her heart to another person again. You must admit that you have longly tested the sincerity of the Swiss girl, but her unfailing patience and honesty have finally convinced you. Apart from all the other qualities that qualify her, obviously. Leah has already proclaimed herself the First Lady of your possible future marriage, and that amuses you very much. You know you owe her a lot.
"Should we settle here?" Lia suggests, looking around.
You do the same before nodding. You’ve been wandering around the Bernese mountains all day and the place you’re in is pretty good. There is no one around, a small lake to refresh yourself and the view is especially breathtaking.
You were never one to camp before meeting Lia, but she showed you that it could be more than just sleeping on the ground in a tent that can’t hold the cold. So you watch her build the tent with expertise, proud and surprised to discover her talents as an architect. She turns around and catches you looking at her butt, smiling at you.
"I did nothing" you justify while raising both hands.
"Exactly" she laughs gently before pointing at her backpack with a nod. "Get our stuff out please."
You smile maliciously and obey, taking out what she asks you. You also say her that you will write to Leah to inform her that you are still alive, the captain being convinced that you will be eaten by a bear.
"She's so dramatic. There are no bears here, only wolves."
"Huh?"
Eyes wide open, you raise your head towards Lia who bursts with laughter. You can’t tell if she’s laughing or not, but you don’t know if you really want to know.
"I’ll tell Leah to come get me."
Lia laughs again, but she managed to set up your tent in the meantime. You take care of inflating the mattresses and let her manage the rest, realizing your uselessness. But the Swiss captain doesn't seem to be bothered by this in the least, a smile never leaving her lips.
"A little bath now?"
You accept with pleasure, changing quickly to put on the swimsuit that your girlfriend advised you to take. The water is icy, but after walking all day it does make your leg muscles feel good. You do sports, but in a much less advanced way than Lia and you are therefore less accustomed than her to intense muscle fatigue.
The next game is to see which of the two gets the most wet and you can happily announce that you are the winner.
And the rock you slipped on has absolutely nothing to do with it.
"Are you ok?" asks Lia, smiling when you return to the tent.
You nod, without being able to mask your teeth that snap in spite of you. You are frozen. You don’t fool the beautiful eyes of Lia, who takes you against her to lay a kiss on your forehead.
"Go change, I’ll light a fire."
You accept happily, quickly getting rid of your wet swimsuit to put on clean and dry clothes. The outfit you opt for is not the sexiest, you come out with sneakers, a pair of jogging pants with the Swiss national team crest that you clearly stole from Lia and a hoodie. You also folded the hood on head to protect you from the cold.
When you reach Lia, the fire cracks lazily, the noise immediately bringing a comforting side. The heat that emanates too. You sit next to it, letting your girlfriend go change too. Even if you grumble a little for form, you really appreciate the place in which you find yourself. And being able to have Lia just for you for a few days suits you very well. You went to her family before coming camping and there are other people to see after. Fortunately, each member of her family seems to accept with open arms.
"Hello you" you whisper softly when she comes back to you, passing your arm around her waist.
"Why do I feel like I know this pants?" Lia say with an amused smile, stroking the patch with her fingertips.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Lia laughs softly and it makes you smile. A look is exchanged between you two, who do not need to utter a word. You just hold her tight, let her put her head on your shoulder. You both get lost in your thoughts, watching the sun disappear behind the mountain in front of you.
"Are you still cold?" Lia gently asks after a few minutes.
Instead of answering, you slip your icy fingers under her clothes with an evil smile. The good news is that the cry that escapes from Lia’s lips has undoubtedly helped to scare away all the wildlife around you. The bad news is you were tortured to tickles for long minutes after that.
********
Lia.Walti Instagram
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liked by leahwilliamsonn, y/nInstagram, ramona.bachmann and 9,937 others
lia.walti Happy life with Schatzi ♥ @Y/NInstagram
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alessiarusso I'm freezing just looking at this picture
Y/NInstagram Ich liebe dich 🤍🤍🤍
↳ lia.walti Glad to see my lessons begin to serve
↳ Y/Instagram I have a very persuasive teacher ;)
↳ ramona.bachmann Ew
leahwilliamsonn OMG are you both alive?
↳ Y/NInstagram Yes it's quite nice actually :) (Send help please Leah, she's trying to murder me)
↳ lia.walti Watch out.
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