#pls god let the tag list work

[shellibisshe]

all her fuckin' lives / flashed before her eyes / it feels like the time / she fell through the ice / then came out alive

template. gifs. inspo.

tag list! (opt in/out) @strangefable @confidentandgood @leviiackrman @carrionsflower @simplegenius042 @thedeadthree @loriane-elmuerto @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol @malefiquinn @risingsh0t @kyberinfinitygems @a-treides @captastra @gothimp @statichvm @calenhads @poetikat @nonfunctioning-queer @ghostfvcker @dickytwister @inafieldofdaisies

[nickfowlerrr]

with you

part one

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. established relationship from everybody talks - but can be read as a standalone! feelings of loneliness. some angst. unprotected sex. squirting. use of pet names (sweetheart, doll, baby). dirty talk. heaps and heaps of fluff. if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: just about 8.5k

notes: a huge thank you to @whatever-lmaoo for beta-ing for me yet again! i appreciate you so much!! and i know, i know, a little late for a halloween fic- but i guess it’s okay bc this isn’t really all that halloweeney lol. honestly a little more personal than usual but i hope you all enjoy it anyway. please let me know what you think and thank you in advance for taking the time to read! 🩵

You’re pushing the basket, weaving your way through the aisles full of other semi last minute shoppers in search of their own Halloween costumes. You can’t get past a family spread out in the middle of the aisle as they contemplate their options aloud, no concern for the other people around them trying to shop. You suppress your eye roll but not the sigh of slight annoyance as you back up and move to the next aisle over, thankfully empty.

There aren’t many options here, but maybe something will give you an idea of what to dress up as. A couple minutes pass as you peruse the random assortment of costume accessories. Your mind is fully in idea mode as you try to piece something wearable together in your mind… you have that black maxi dress hanging in your closet, that could probably work as a good base.

You’re not paying attention to your surroundings as you nudge the basket further down the aisle while you examine two different pairs of long black gloves in your hands and take a step down the aisle to see the witch hats.

But do you really wanna be a witch? You purse your lips in thought before tossing the sets of gloves back into the big green cauldron you got them from. Your eyes linger on the witch section as you grasp the handle of the cart and start to push.

Before you set your head straight, you’re stopped in your path as you find yourself crashing into something. Oh gosh…

Someone.

Your apology is sputtering out past your lips before you can even turn to see the injured party, but once you do, and your eyes meet with sparkling blues, you stop your fumbling and sigh heavily in your relief.

“Oh, thank god,” you breathe as your shoulders relax. “I thought I actually hit someone.”

“Am I not someone?” Bucky scoffs with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“No, you are,” you assure him as you leave the basket and walk toward him, “but you’re my someone, so it’s okay and you have to forgive me.”

“Oh, I see,” he nods, eyeing you in your approach. You double check the aisle is still clear before kissing him, soft and fleeting.

“Did you find it?”

“Out of stock,” he frowns.

“Damn. We’ve looked everywhere, what now?”

“I don’t think ghosts lining the grass are gonna do much more than the full out display you’ve already set up, sweetheart. I think we’ll be okay,” he laughs.

“Yeah,” you sigh, a soft pout still on your lips, “you’re right. I just…”, a tight, heavy sigh leaves you as you shake your head, trailing off.

Bucky steps closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist, squeezing lightly.

“I know,” he says, softly.

You force a smile, taking his hand to hold in yours. “Alright, well, we got the candy and the groceries and the toothpaste,” you list aloud, trying to think if you’re forgetting anything.

“Toilet paper,” Bucky supplies, pushing the cart backwards before turning it to push it himself.

“Toilet paper! Who needs a list when I have you,” you lean into him as you walk before heading to the aisle ahead of him.

—

“Sweetheart?” Bucky calls from the kitchen as you wipe at the stray tear falling down your cheek. You blow your nose gently and close out of the app.

Another post of fall fun your nieces are having, and right below it another post from another costume party you weren’t invited to.

Don't let it get to you, you chide yourself. It's just the fomo sinking in. Nothing more.

You wipe at your cheeks before grabbing the door handle, calling down the stairs, "I'm coming!"

You make your way down the steps and are met at the bottom with Bucky, smiling like a schoolboy.

In his hands he holds a singular Halloween decoration.

"It's not light up ghosts, but,"

"It's perfect," you cut him off, smiling softly as you take the familiar ghost cutout from his hands.

You can't help but grin at the memory of your first Halloween with Bucky. Your first date. First meeting! God, it's been a whirlwind of a year.

Your eyes flicker to his and you immediately meet his stunning gaze; his already set on you.

"Just like you," he simpers.

You groan in jest, setting the cutout to rest along the stairs before you wrap your arms around him, leaning into his warm, solid hold. You sigh as he rubs your back comfortingly.

"Hey," he calls gently, causing you to pick up your head to look at him. "Talk to me. Please," he adds as your pout grows. "You've been off all week, what's going on?"

Your gaze drops to his chest as your arms drop from around him. He doesn't let you slip away as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the couch, pushing you down before he follows suit, wasting no time in getting you back in his hold once you're both comfortable. You let your head rest on his chest as he holds you.

"I miss my family," you say simply with a shrug.

He waits for more, but when he realizes you're done talking, he speaks himself.

"You've been missing them since we moved here," he presses, "I know it's not just that."

You mindlessly play with the buttons on his shirt, not able to make eye contact right now.

You swallow hard.

You know the truth, and you know Bucky deserves to know what you're thinking. After all, he did uproot his entire life for you after only knowing you five months...

"I just...I don't know."

You glance up at him, his eyes soft and gaze patient.

"I... What if this was just a huge mistake?" You ask. "Moving here. Just another stupid, selfish idea that I'm gonna regret by next year."

"Living your life away from your family isn't stupid or selfish," he says, no judgement in his soothing voice. "And, you know what we talked about before we moved here. No regrets. And if you decide you want to go back,"

"We go back," you nod. "I know."

"Well," he starts, "do you?"

"No," you answer right away. It's the truth. You don't. But still, that fear. The unknown, it nips at you. What if? "I knew this wasn't gonna be easy, but," you sigh, "what if I just don't belong here?"

His brows furrow, "Why wouldn't you?"

"It's been, what, seven months? And what do I have to show for it? And it's not just work-" you stop yourself before you start to rambling, taking a deep breath. "I haven't even made a single friend yet. All those sets and events and all those people I've met, and I just. I haven't fit in anywhere. No one...likes me," you trail off so quietly, not really wanting him to hear.

"Sweetheart, that is not true."

"You don't know that, Buck,"

"Oh, and you do?"

"I do. That gig on Monday," you stammer, embarrassed, "it's stupid," you try to brush off, not wanting to have to explain the memory.

He doesn't have to say a word with the look on his face.

You sigh, but continue.

"We were in between takes and everyone was talking, like, to each other in a group. And I was there, but like, I wasn't there. I was standing with everyone else and trying to be...engaging. But," you purse your lips as the embarrassment burns you anew. "And, they were talking about their plans for Halloween, and this girl said she was throwing a party, and she invited everyone, asked for their numbers so she could send them the information, and she got everyone's number. Except for mine. And I was just standing there, like, probably looking so lame," you try to laugh as your eyes sting, "pretending like I didn't notice, nonchalant," you breathe tightly, pulling at a loose thread on the little V of his henley.

"I followed some of the other people online for like, 'connections', ya know, for future work, and one of them posted pictures from the party, and like, everybody from that set was there. And it looked like so much fun. And, you know I don't even like parties," you throw out, "but...why wasn't I invited? Why," you pause, biting your tongue, "why didn't they like me?"

"Baby," Bucky coos, his touch featherlight and yet so stabilizing, "those are just a few people,"

"That wasn't an isolated incident, Bucky. That has been my entire life. I try not to let it bother me, but I try. So hard, I try to be...normal. Likeable. Friendly. And no matter what I do, or how well I think I play the part, I'm just a mess of introversion and social anxiety."

You can see how badly he wants to interrupt you and reassure you of your so-called perfection, but he doesn't. He lets you talk; he wants to hear you.

"You know how many parties I was invited to in school?" you ask rhetorically. "Not a single one. And the people I thought were my friends wer-" you shake your head. "I'd always try to console myself with the thought that it would get better as I got older, but I think...I think it actually hurts more now than it ever did back then. The nerds were friends with the nerds, and the popular kids were friends with the popular kids, and everybody had their group. But even in my 'group', I was just kinda there. Not alone, but alone. Fading into the background. Into the gray."

You sit in quiet for a long moment before continuing.

"But then I'd get home. And I'd be with my sisters, and all of a sudden I wasn't alone. And I was, like, really me. For forever, they were the only people who ever really, truly saw me. Who I was comfortable enough with to be myself," you turn into Bucky further, your hand still on his chest.

"Then I met you," you smile. "And I don't know how or why, but you see me."

"In technicolor," he whispers as he lets his knuckles brush your cheek. You close your eyes at his soft touch, melting further into him.

"I've just been feeling excluded, and then I start missing my sisters even more, and you know I love you, so much, but this job is just constant rejection and it all just piles on and I keep trying to get by without having to dwell on it all, but I know I can't keep doing that. I know I want to be here. And I can do this. It just, gets hard sometimes. And I've been getting in my head. And I'm sorry I haven't talked about it sooner. I don't want it to seem like I regret moving here, and I really don't want it to seem like I'm not so grateful that you're here with me. That you came all this way for me. It means the world; you mean the world to me."

"The feeling is mutual," Bucky simpers, the corner of his lips turning up as he watches you, his hand aimlessly wandering up and down your side. "I'd go anywhere with you, sweetheart. I know it's not the same, but for what it's worth, I like you. I'd want you at every party."

You smile at him as he cuddles you and can't help the fit of laughter that erupts from you as he squeezes you, nuzzling into your neck and peppering kisses along your delicate skin.

You catch your breath as he finally lets up and pulls away, only to lean his face closer to yours, kissing you softly.

"I'm really proud of you, you know. You're a lot stronger, and a lot braver than you give yourself credit for. And anyone would be lucky to be able to have you in their life, let alone to call you their friend. As your best friend, I should know," he adds playfully.

"You're my best friend?"

"And you're mine," he nods, eyes gleaming with that look that sends butterflies a flight in your tummy. Your eyes flick down to his lips for less than a second before he's kissing you again; just as soft, and twice as sweet.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"Iloveyou," you mumble back, just a little dumb from the depth of his kiss. You give yourselves a moment in your shared embrace before you speak again. "Okay," you sigh, "we gotta finish the yard so I can facetime the girls before they head out for trick or treating."

Bucky rolls off the couch before pulling you up after him as you extend your arm expectantly.

You’re surprised as Bucky’s hold doesn’t let up and he tugs you into him. You stare at him, eyes wide and curious.

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling bad lately. Whatever you wanna do tonight, and tomorrow,” he emphasizes as you smile demurely, “you got it.”

“Because that wasn’t gonna happen anyway?” You tease, earning a smirk from him as you reach for his hand to drag him to the front of the house.

You pause in your path and spin to go grab your favorite little ghost decoration from the steps.

“I know exactly where this is going.”

—

The familiar ring of the Facetime call has you growing more and more giddy with anticipation as you wait your sister's answer.

But the longer you wait, the more fallen your smile becomes.

Your FaceTime isn't answered, but not too long after, your phone dings with a text.

The girls went trick or treating early, no connection. Sorry! Try to call you back later. But send pics of the yard whenever! We need to see!

You deflate at the news. You guys had planned this, they knew how excited you were to show the girls the house yourself - or as close as you could get. Stuff happens, and by now you've come to accept that when it comes to kids, plans rarely ever play out the way you'd like. But still.

You sigh as Bucky watches you intently, noticing your shift in mood instantly. You can already see how the rest of the night will go. They'll get back from trick or treating and try to call, but you'll inevitably miss it, and once you do get another moment to call back, the girls will already be asleep. Pics will be it.

And that's...okay. You're disappointed, of course, but really, it's okay. You’re sure had you not talked to Bucky about how you’d been feeling lately, you’d be in tears right about now. But having gotten some of your frustration and anxiety out has helped. Just being around him has helped. You didn’t realize before that you’d been in and out of the house all week with classes and work and now that you think about it, this is the first day you’ve been able to spend actual time with Bucky, too. No wonder you were feeling so isolated.

"Can't talk right now?" Bucky asks as he steps closer to you in the front yard.

"Nope," you pop the 'p'. "Trick or treating early. I'm just gonna send 'em some pictures I guess."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he tries to comfort you, pulling you into his side as you both look on at the Halloween decorations littering the yard. "I know you wanted to share it with them."

"'S'okay," you smile a small smile, leaning into him. "I still had fun doing this with you. Thank you for your assistance," you add, fluttering your gaze up to meet his.

"Anytime. Anything to see that smile,” he adds, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your cheek, sending warmth through you at the affection.

“Guess we should get the candy ready,” you muse.

“And your costume on.”

“I didn’t pick anything,” you frown. “I don’t really feel like dressing up anyway. Besides,” you turn into him, “all the kids, and moms, are coming to see you,” you nudge him with a smirk on your lips.

He shakes his head, trying to fight his blush as he rolls his eyes at you. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

You laugh at the memory of your first week here; everyday was a new woman coming over under the guise of welcoming the new neighbors to the neighborhood. You knew after the second platter of unexpected cookies that word was spreading fast about a certain super soldier taking up residence in their lovely - and expensive - neighborhood; you had sworn to Bucky you didn’t need to move into a place so big, and a part of you was worried you wouldn’t be able to pull your weight financially if you did, but he swore he would prefer it. You didn’t necessarily believe that was his only reason for wanting to spend more on a nicer place, but how could you argue? Especially after he made it clear that he wouldn’t be accepting any money from you for rent. He let you connect your card for the monthly water bill, but that has been it. And you’re absolutely not complaining! But you don’t know you ever imagined this kind of thing would happen.

Until the very day you moved in, you were constantly thinking you were dreaming. But when you noticed the watchful eyes of the neighbors as you brought your boxes in, you realized it couldn’t be.

This was real.

You couldn’t blame their curiosity, but you could blame their forwardness. The way they fawned over Bucky in front of you - all the while ignoring your eye when they’d come over to introduce themselves - was both irksome and, kind of funny.

You only really started to get annoyed when you noticed how uncomfortable it was making Bucky. At the first sign of his discomfort, you found yourself ushering the door shut with a new, outlandish lie every time. But always thanking them for their treats, of course, as you’d close the door.

It’s been almost seven months since you moved in, and the fascination with Bucky has waned slightly, but has yet to fade completely.

“Never,” you laugh. “But it’s not like it’s a bad thing. You, my love," you take his face in your hands, his stubble rough against your palms, "are very, very handsome,” you murmur. “And mysterious, and brooding to the outside eye. It’s hard to ignore you. You're like a magnet of intrigue. It's sexy.”

“Sexy?” He huffs. “I’m not brooding.”

You scoff, “Hah, I wish you could see your face right now,” you say disbelieving; the irony of his words obvious as the furrow of his brows and his frown cause your lips to twitch in a soft smirk.

He fixes his face at your laugh, eyeing you with that ever familiar glimmer of growing want. His hands cover yours as he walks you back, closer to the house.

"So, you think I'm sexy?" he speaks lowly, his grip on you firm as he slides your hands from his face to his chest, down his thick torso as you watch him - your eyes growing heavy as you watch him. It's like you're in a trance.

Your back suddenly hits the front door and you're snapped out of your state, surprised by the contact and even more by the distance you've walked in what felt like a second.

"Yes," you utter after a second, Bucky pressing closer. "I do." Your fingers flex against his abdomen as he leans into you. His nose brushes yours as he teases you with the prospect of his kiss until the door unexpectedly opens behind you; Bucky having turned the knob with his metal hand from around you.

You gasp at the loss of contact with the door, inching back despite yourself - worrying for a split second you were about to find yourself on your ass. But in the same instant, Bucky's hands are around you, keeping you in place.

"I got you," he reassures you; voice deeper now than it was a second ago.

You can only nod as you’re caught once again in his crystal blue gaze.

You really should expect it when he picks you up, but you gasp anyway at his easy display of strength when he takes you off your feet and carries you inside.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a costume, actually,” he says as he walks past the couch toward the stairs. “No need for you to be dressed.”

You nearly scream as Bucky bounds up the steps, holding you securely with a grin plastered on his face as you cling to him. Not a second later he’s walking you into the bedroom and setting you down carefully to sit on the bed.

“If we’re handing out candy, I’m gonna need to be dressed,” you point out the obvious, trying your best to not look so flustered as he stands in front of you. Tall, strong, and imposing; his eyes darkened as he holds your gaze. You take in a nervous breath as you look up at him and he takes a step closer. You lean back on your arms and wait for his next move.

Bucky slows gets to his knees before you and just as he reaches for your hips to pull you closer to him - there’s a knock on the front door.

He squeezes his eyes shut in his temporary disappointment, grimacing before he shoots up. “I knew that was gonna happen,” he sighs, earning a breathy laugh from you.

“Already got a better turnout than last year,” you offer despite your own momentary disappointment.

He shakes his head with a soft smile as he takes you in. “Nothing could ever beat the turnout last year,” he says thoughtfully, “not by a long shot.”

You smile softly at his meaning as he turns to head back downstairs and get the door.

You hear him open the kitchen cabinet where the candy bars are and then hear his ‘Happy Halloween’ greeting. By the sounds of it, there must be a group or two of trick or treaters already out there.

You ponder your options for a quick second before deciding to go with your gut. You know he won’t mind having to get the door himself tonight for all the trick or treaters - especially if you’re not dressed to do so yourself.

You open the middle drawer of your dresser and spot the red lingerie set instantly. It is your anniversary after all…

You and Bucky agreed to call November 1st your anniversary, just for celebration sake, but you know the truth.

Your thoughts catch up with you as you quickly strip and mindlessly slide on the lacy underwear and bra.

Your anniversary. Duh! You wondered why you hadn’t seen much of Bucky this week! He’s usually so attentive and when he’s not working on his bike or car or catching up on the many items of his list to read/watch/listen to, he’s wrapped up in you. Retiree life has been good to him, and you’ve never had to vie for his attention or affection. This week though, he has clearly been preoccupied. And now you realize why. He’s up to something…

You drag the stockings up your legs and pray they stay up your thick thighs for long enough as you hear the door downstairs shut. You curse under your breath but are quickly saved by another knock at the door before Bucky even heads back up the steps. You forget looking for the straps that connect the faux garter to the underwear and head for the bathroom to make sure you don’t look insane.

You fix your hair a bit, but the worn look suits the occasion and the slightly smudged liner adds to the sex appeal. You adjust the bra strap on your shoulder and a flicker of a smile forms on your lips. You look good. A renewed sense of giddy finds you as you spin to the door and walk back into the room. You listen for Bucky downstairs and are satisfied as you hear the last “thank you!” from the kids at the door.

You walk out into the hall and stop at the top of the staircase. You can see Bucky from where you stand and he’s able to see you from downstairs, too. You put a hand on the banister, posing just a bit as you wait patiently for him to turn around. You watch as he sets the bowl on the entryway table and turns quickly to get back upstairs.

He stops dead in his tracks the second he spots you. His mouth parting as he stares at your chest, slowly letting his eyes rove over your scantily clad curves and down your legs before he looks back up and meets your wanton gaze. The look of faux innocence playing on your face only riling him up more.

It feels like a play of cat and mouse as you stand at the top of the stairs and he stands at the bottom. His gaze heated, eyes hungry.

“You coming back up or should I meet you down there?” you ask demurely.

He’s cut off from answering you with a new knock on the door. He nearly growls and you could laugh at how differently his experience with trick or treaters - or lack there of - was last year.

Bucky turns back to get the door, putting on a smile as he greets the new group of kids and lets them choose what candy bar they’d like. For his part, he really is happy the neighborhood kids aren’t scared of him here! But at the same time, it’s technically his anniversary; and the love of his life is dressed in nothing more than his favorite lingerie, waiting for him so fucking prettily right up those stairs.

He doesn’t think much before making his decision. The last kid makes their choice and the group is on their way as he shuts the door. He heads into the kitchen, feeling you watch him quizzically. He tears a piece of paper off of the notepad on the counter and gets a sharpie from the kitchen drawer.

PLEASE TAKE ONE

He writes it in all caps and heads back to the door.

You lean more onto the banister to see what he’s doing from where you stand. You raise a brow as he moves the entryway table closer to the door before he opens it and sets it outside with the candy bowl sitting on top of it. That’s one way to do it, you think with a smile tugging at your lips.

Bucky slips the piece of paper under the edge of the bowl so it’s visible and then comes right back inside. He’s coming up the stairs within seconds and heading right for you.

You laugh in surprise as Bucky grabs you by the waist, pulling you close to him. His eyes are heavy as his hands squeeze you, wandering your curves. You almost moan when he grabs your ass, pulling you into him fully as you brace against his solid chest.

You’ll never get over how good it feels to be felt by him. His strength evident in his every touch, and yet so soft as he caresses you. His lips ghost your cheek and your ear as he breathes you in and you arch into him, wanting - needing more.

His fingers begin to play with the lace of your bra band, tickling you as he does. “My favorite,” he husks lowly, kissing your neck and sending a shiver through you as you pull at his shirt. “Special occasion?” he asks with a smirk.

Your hands find the waist of his pants, “None that I can think of,” you pretend to ponder.

You moan into him as Bucky suddenly kisses you hard. What you expect to be hot and fervent slows to something deeper and more intimate as you melt into him.

You inevitably have to pull away for air after a bit and murmur against his lips as he holds you, “Oh, right,” you breathe, “we have our anniversary.”

“Thought you wanted to call it tomorrow,” he smiles.

You lick your lip lightly with a shrug, “Couldn’t wait.”

His answer is another searing kiss as he walks you back toward the room. You’re pushed onto the bed and find yourself in the same position you were earlier, leaning back on your hands as you watch Bucky watching you.

He reaches down with one hand and undoes his belt effortlessly, popping his button and sliding down the zipper before he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside, kicking off his boots right after. His pants are next before he closes in on you, crawling on top of you as you lay back on the bed, eyes still locked and dark with your mutual desire.

His hands trail from your hips, up the curve of your waist as he positions himself between your spread thighs.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you as he lets his eyes wander your body once more. He leans down and earns a breathy gasp from you as he starts placing soft kisses down your neck, your chest, over the tops of your breasts before he takes hold of the clasp of the bra sitting on your sternum.

He undoes it easy and pushes the cups to the side, revealing you to him. You sit up a bit to shimmy out of the garment and throw it off the bed. His large hands hold your breasts and he plays with you, squeezing and running his thumbs over your already peaked nipples - earning a pathetic mewl from you at the sensation it send through you. His lips wrap around your tit, tongue swirling around your sensitive nipple as he sucks at you, sending your eyes back and your hands grasping his grown out hair. Your lips parting in a silent gasp.

He licks and sucks at your tit, big hand playing with the other until he switches his attentions. All the while, your moans and tugs at his hair have him growing impossibly harder as his cock strains against his briefs.

He mindlessly grinds his hips against you and you whimper. “Please, Bucky,” you whine, trying to roll your hips against him in turn.

He sucks a little more on your tit before he moves down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You’re partly surprised he listened to your ambiguous plea without teasing you just a little longer, but as his fingers pull at the band of your underwear, you realize he’s just as desperate as you.

It has been a long week; the longest you’ve gone without each other in the year you’ve been together.

Bucky pulls away to rid himself of his briefs, his thick cock hard and angry. You can practically feel your mouth salivate as the slickness between your thighs grows. Fuck, he’s perfect.

“Need it, Buck. Need you,” you plead, spreading your thighs even further as he leans back into you.

“I know, sweetheart,” he teases his cock head along your slit, “gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna give you what you need,” he promises.

He lines himself up to your entrance, pushing his tip just inside of you as you moan on a heavy breath.

You hum your pleasure, a delighted smile gracing your lips as he slowly pushes further in; his deep, heady breaths turning you on even more as his hands grip your hips.

“Feel good, doll?” He husks. “You’re squeezin’ me so tight,” he grunts. “Perfect fuckin fit,” he grits through his clenched jaw as he fucks you, his thickness stretching you with every thrust of his cock. Your walls clench his length as you moan - the feeling of being full of him, of his heavy balls slapping against your skin, the way his dirty words always set you off more than you’d ever expect… This is pure fucking heaven. You can’t help yourself. It's not very long before you find yourself already feeling so dangerously close to your undoing.

“Like you were made for me,” he growls, “made to take my fat fuckin cock just. like. this.” He punctuates each of his last few words with a hard thrust, hitting so deep you swear you’re seeing stars. You can do nothing but babble your agreement as your hands wander his body, one wandering back into the dark strands of his hair.

As much as you love holding him, you know how much he likes the feeling of you tugging at his growing strands, too; so you do just that.

His lips brush along your jaw as you tilt your head for him. His stubble tickling you in the best way.

“Never gonna get over how fucking good you feel wrapped around me. How goddamn beautiful you look under me. Fucked out and cock drunk the minute I get my dick inside your tight little pussy. Always so fucking wet for me, desperate for it.”

You swear you’re on the verge of tears as the coil in your tummy tightens more and more with his every word. Your legs are around him as he rolls his hips into you, his cock brushing all the right spots as he finds your lips. You’re moaning into his hot mouth as he kisses you. In sharp contrast to his words, it’s soft and sweet, his nose rubbing against yours as he moves his tongue expertly. His teeth gently nip at your lips as he pulls his face away for a second before pressing his forehead to yours. His hands are tight on your hips as he tries to control himself from getting carried away. A week is just too long and you’re both already reaching closer and closer to your ends.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, sounding almost pained as his eyes squeeze shut, his thrusts growing the slightest bit erratic as you feel him tense above you.

“Come inside me,” you beg on a whimper. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Wanna feel you. Need it.”

The growl of curses that leave him as he fucks you deeper have your muscles tensing, your velvety walls clenching down around his length as the hair on his pelvis stimulates your sensitive clit with every roll of his hips. You’re a mess of moans and heady gasps as you cling to him, your body tight in the impossibly building pleasure as your toes curl and that coil finally snaps; white hot heat and sparks of overwhelming pleasure taking over you as you cum.

“Fuck,” Bucky moans, “that’s it, baby. So fuckin’ good. Look at you, so pretty coming for me,” he kisses you sloppily as your skin burns and your pussy flutters.

Your orgasm seems never ending as Bucky works you through it. His hands grasp at you, feeling your softness and bringing him closer to his own orgasm as your walls squeeze his cock while you cum.

His lips press to yours as he swallows your wanton sounds, kissing you hotly before licking into your mouth sensually. He keeps one hand on your hip to hold you where he needs you and brings the other to hold your face. He can’t get enough of your lips, your kiss, your taste. All the while rocking his hips into yours, his cock moving in and out of your slick, tight hole.

The pulsing of your sensitive walls around his length finally have him cumming hard. His seed hot and thick, spurting along your walls as he fills you up. Your name is both a curse and a prayer as it falls from his lips amidst sweet praises and filthy words. You’re panting and smiling through the growing overstimulation as Bucky’s thrusts slow but don’t completely stop just yet. His thumb brushes your cheek as he presses his forehead to yours again, his brilliant blue eyes glued to you before he leans in to brush his lips against yours.

You kiss him back, holding him to you with a hand still in his hair. Your kiss grows deeper as he thrust just once or twice more before stilling; his lips so soft as he slowly pulls away, breathing heavily.

He hisses so quietly you almost don’t hear it while he slides out of you at last, leaving you a dripping mess in his wake.

You stare at him as he looks entranced by the sight of your orgasms smeared all over you. You take a sharp breath as he gingerly brings two fingers to your cunt, slipping inside you easily and fucking what he can of his excess back into you. You expect him to stop but he just doesn’t.

He works his thick digits in and out, his mouth parted open and his eyes set on the way you suck him in so easily. You whine at the building pressure as he finger fucks you, already too close to another orgasm. Your hand is holding his strong arm as your eyes threaten to roll back.

“Bucky,” you whimper, “fuck, I’m gonna come again.”

Your words spur him on as he moves more precisely, hitting exactly where he knows you need him to. With his free hand, he brings his thumb to your clit and rubs in tight circles as your voice peaks and your legs shake. You’re nearly blinded by the orgasm as it hits you and the sound of Bucky cursing makes its way to your ears. You weren’t expecting it but as Bucky shakes his fingers inside you, prolonging your high like it’s the only thing in the world he’s concerned with - your pleasure, you - you realize you’re practically gushing as you squirt all over his fingers. You hear his voice but not his words as Bucky talks you through it.

It’s not the first time you’ve come so hard at his whim, but fuck, you’re exhausted as you slowly come down. You whimpered despite yourself as you open your eyes and Bucky gently slips out of you. He leans over you again as you gaze dizzily at him before he kisses you delicately.

“Did so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your skin, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek before he gets up off the bed completely.

You lie there, trying to recoup and catch your breath until he comes back not long after, a pair of his sweats low on his hips and a damp cloth in his hand, a glass of water in the other.

He sets the glass down on the bedside table before tending to you. He wipes gently at the mess between your legs, cleaning you up with the warm cloth before discarding it with the clothes and coming to sit next to where you lay.

“You okay?” He asks, that ever present concern evident in his voice as his hands gently start to wander your soft body.

You smile and nod at him, taking one of his hands in yours. “Better than okay,” you simper. “Was not expecting that,” you add, “but god.” You sit up and cling to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “That’s one way to celebrate a year.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, turning to stand and pull you off the bed with him, “that wasn’t even the celebration.”

You smile and walk slowly to the closet to grab a night shirt, slipping it on before grabbing a pair of panties from your drawer. “I knew you were planning something,” you eye him playfully, coming up to wrap your arms around him.

He smirks, hugging you back for a second before just deciding to lift you up. “You get so cuddly after sex,” he laughs.

“Me?!” you laugh out, hugging onto him as he walks toward the door of your bedroom, “take a look in the mirror, buddy.”

“Fine,” he agrees, starting down the steps, “you’re right, we both do.”

“That’s just good compatibility,” you muse as he walks you into the den.

“Great compatibility,” he one ups. “It’s almost like,” he pauses a second, setting you down on the oversized sleeper chaise before he leans down to you, “we were made for each other.”

You lean up to meet his lips in a quick, gentle kiss. “Yeah,” you agree softly, a smile beginning to form on your lips. You bite your lip as you watch him go back out toward the front living room. He peeks out the window to make sure no one’s out there before he opens the door.

There's a pause as he takes in the scene outside...or lack thereof. “The candy’s gone!” He yells to you in disbelief.

You can’t help your snicker as he turns to look at you across the way, empty bowl in hand. He waves it, still seeming in shock; like this possibility never crossed his mind.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” you laugh, “but good thing you have like twelve more cases,” you remind him. He licks his lips as he stares at the empty bowl, shaking his head slightly. A second later, you see his brow raise as he starts to straighten up, but you aren't sure what he's reacting to until you hear her voice.

“Trick or treat,” a sultry voice comes from behind Bucky as he still stands at the open door. His eyes widen before he sighs, slowly turning to face the most persistent of his neighborly admirers.

You quirk a brow at her lack of company and strain to hear better.

“Sorry to bother,” she smiles, eyes dragging down Bucky’s solid - still shirtless - chest before she manages to rein herself in and snap her gaze back up to his. “I’m in the middle of mixing up some cookie dough but I ran out of flour. Paul and Michael are busy running their fun house or I’d have them go grab me a bag. Do you think you’d be able to lend me a cup?” You are slightly irked at the change of tone in her last question. She sounds flirty and though Bucky is mostly blocking her from your view, from what you can see, it seems like she’s leaning in closer to him. “We just had a rush of trick or treaters but it’s so quiet around here now. Paul’s so preoccupied with that set up though, I don’t even think he’d notice if I went missing,” she laughs, her toothy grin rubbing you the wrong way as her lashes flutter.

“Uh,” Bucky clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we probably have some flour we can spare. Give me a minute.”

“Oh, yo-“ she takes a step forward with her words but is cut off by the closing of the door.

You get up with a tilt of your head and follow Bucky into the kitchen quickly. “Did she just hit on you?” you ask incredulously.

Bucky eyes you as he sets the empty bowl on the counter and walks to the cabinet. “I could see how you could think that,” he avoids a real answer through his embarrassment.

You huff a laugh, walking to the drawer you keep the measuring cups in, grabbing the cup, smirking. “She is somethin’ else.” You sidle up to Bucky as he opens the jar of flour. You lean into him, holding out the cup for him to take, “But, I guess, who can blame her? You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Bucky chuckles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs it from you, scooping up the cup of flour. You’re confused as he tries to hand the cup back to you.

“What?”

“Go give it to her,” he nudges you.

“I’m not wearing pants,” you state the obvious.

“I don’t have a shirt on,” he argues.

“She already saw you,” you nudge him back with a titter.

“Please,” he breathes a light laugh, but you see the seriousness of his request in his eyes. His discomfort is evident, and you don’t know how you didn’t recognize it earlier.

You don’t know everything he went through, but you know enough to know how important Bucky’s privacy is to him - and that includes physically. He is the only one who should be able to decide who sees him, when, and how much of him they see. Of course, no one should be treated like an object, but you get the feeling it can feel a lot worse for Bucky than it can for the typical person.

You take the cup with a soft smile, “Okay, yeah,” you acquiesce. “You should open another box while you’re at it,” you nod toward the cabinet where the boxes of candy bars are before turning around to get the door.

You open it with a smile, trying to hide your bare legs with the door as you hold out the cup of flour. “There you go,” you offer.

“Oh! I didn’t, ha-“ she laughs lightly, “didn’t even realize you were home.” She looks down, moving some hair behind her ears before she reaches for the cup.

You smile brighter as you take a step from behind the door. “Yeah,” you say simply. What the hell does she mean she didn't think you were home?

“Well, thank you,” she smiles tightly, trying to not look at your bare legs. The implication of your and Bucky’s lack of clothing, his messed hair, and your smudged makeup all hanging in the air. “Happy Halloween,” she adds before turning around and heading back down the path.

“Mhm, Happy Halloween,” you return before shutting the door. Unbelievable. But you know you have less than nothing to worry about, so you let it go. Hopefully this interaction will finally be the one to get her off of Bucky's back.

You spin around and find Bucky behind you, eyes having been set on your ass as he holds the newly filled bowl of candy. His eyes shoot up to meet yours as you deprive him of the view. That heated gaze back in his ice blue eyes as he trails up and down your body again.

“See something you like?” You ask teasingly, popping a hip as you cross one leg in front of the other.

“Not something,” he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip unthinking, “everything.”

You go closer to him, a soft, flattered smile in place as you take the bowl of candy from him. “Why don’t you go pick a movie, and I’ll start on dinner in a minute.”

“I already ordered delivery, should be here in about half an hour.”

“Oh?” you raise a brow, reaching back to the door to put out the candy again.

“Mhm,” he hums, his hand in his pocket as he leans, watching you as you close the door shut and turn back to him.

“I thought you said we’d do whatever I wanna do tonight?”

“‘M sorry, doll,” he reaches a hand to you that you take, letting him tug you into him and walk you back into the den. “What do you wanna do?”

You try to bite down your smile as you get to the chaise, Bucky turning to look at you as he waits for your answer. You take the opportunity to slowly push him back, essentially guiding him down as your push had no real physical effect. He watches you with curious, patient eyes as he lets you lead until you bring yourself up to straddle him; his gaze darkening instantly as his hands find your waist, slowly feeling you down, fingers kneading your soft, plushy curves as he wanders down your hips, making his way to grabbing your ass.

You settle a little more comfortably on top of him, your hands on his chest before letting your fingers dance all over his thick torso. You smile, letting yourself answer simply and honestly.

“You.”

—

You’re cuddled up to Bucky as you lay on the chaise, bellies full and feeling satiated and satisfied - in every way. The blanket keeps you warm, but being this close to Bucky keeps you even warmer. You’ve run out of candy, and the porch lights are out as the Halloween classic plays on the screen before you - volume low as you and Bucky talk more than you watch the film.

“It’s kinda crazy when you think about it,” you say. “We’ve been together for essentially the entire time we’ve known each other. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me yet,” you laugh a little at yourself.

He looks you deep in the eye, a confused half smile on his lips as his brows furrow ever so slightly. “How could I ever get tired of you? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, doll.”

You are taken aback, despite the commonplace of his adamant affection and feelings, at the intense sincerity of his words, the way he’s looking at you. Like he sees you.

Really see you.

Because he does. And somehow, for whatever reason…

“I love you,” he whispers, completing your thought without knowing it as he leans in to kiss you. Your noses brush as he kisses you softly, slow and delicate before it grows just that much deeper. You slow again and with a few lighter kisses, finally part to breathe properly, though you never leave his embrace.

“I’ve had a year with you,” he speaks softly, running his fingers up and down your arm, “and it’s been one of the best years of my life,” he measures his words before finishing his thought as you gaze up at him, “because of you. And I think I’m gonna need a lifetime more,” he decides, “at least.”

You can’t help your smile at his words as you nuzzle into him. “A lifetime, huh? ...I think I could be okay with that,” you say lowly, a teasing tone edging in your words.

You know you’d be okay with that.

Bucky’s heart skips a beat at your agreement and he grows a bit more excited for what he has planned for tomorrow. It all starts with breakfast, and if things go right, it’ll end with one very important question.

“Happy anniversary, Bucky,” you mumble into him as your eyes grow heavy. “I love you. So much. This has been a really perfect night,” you smile softly.

“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” he kisses your head, holding you closer as you slowly drift off in his loving embrace.

Your gentle breathing calms the butterflies in his stomach at the thought of tomorrow. Any nerves can wait until then.

It’s been a year, and now he can’t wait for the rest of his life.

With you.

—-

a/n that no one asked for: thank you so much for reading! getting ahead of this now - there will not be a part three. this took so long to get through and i just can’t commit to any more sequels of anything. 😭 you are, of course, free to head canon what comes next however you’d like! though if you’re curious, in my mind these two get engaged the next day and idk maybe sometime around Christmas they find out they’re pregnant? but babies or no babies, work works out for reader and everything is good and lovely and they make friends and are able to see family more often and blah blah blah they live happily ever after! lol again, thank you very much for reading!🥰 let me know if you enjoyed it, feel free to share your thoughts. <3

[megumishotgf]

more and more (jjk mainly) fic recs (pt. iii)♡

hello and welcome to more of my fic recs!! credit to all these talented writers, pls check out their other works too!! featuring: (jjk) megumi, yuuji, satoru, suguru, toji (mha) katuski (lmao just for the one post because it NEEDED to be shared) masterlist recs pt. i pt. ii

: ̗̀➛ megumi fushiguro x reader

megumi thinks about how whipped (he is while impatiently waiting for you to text back)

fucking megumi in his baseball uniform (lengthier fic with dom! megumi... omg)

sharing a bed and cuddling (so soft i'm crying. i'm unsure if i've linked this before)

racer a.u. w/ bf megumi (in physical agony because i need this)

megumi is obsessed with yuuji's bimbo gf (i love LOVE love bimbo reader fics AHH)

: ̗̀➛ satoru gojo x reader

your kid shows you an ugly drawing (similar to the katsuki scenario i linked last time, so funny!!)

satoru comforts you after you have a nightmare (so fluffy and sweet... i'm bawling)

age gap w/ satoru, he teaches you to fuck (younger reader. god i love this)

satoru proposes to you :(( (i'm crying)

satoru fucking his chubby gf (help my pussy's gone crazy)

more satoru w/ chubby gf (so so much praise)

: ̗̀➛ geto suguru x reader

arguing with then fucking your ex suguru who is now a cult leader (omfg)

suguru fingers you during movie night w/ satoru and shoko (wow this fic definitely hit the spot. one of my favourites on this list)

'no one's made me cum before' (now this is relatable)

you're babysitting nanako + mimiko and are about to fuck their dad (ahhhhhh)

y/n is insecure and can't tell suguru ('it's not what he's made for' some heavy angst for the sick fucks that enjoy it)

step brother! suguru teaches you how to kiss (this damn fandom makes me read so much stepcest. disgusting! *saved immediately*)

suguru wonders if he should cut his hair (fluffy!! but the last line made me want to burst into tears!!)

: ̗̀➛ toji fushiguro x reader

smutty fic w/ crybaby reader (it's me i'm the crybaby. this author has SO many good toji fics, i linked one of their prison bf fics last time!!)

toji is so so big but he makes it fit (major size kink!!)

: ̗̀➛ yuuji itadori x reader

finally fucking roommate! yuuji (i am shocked this doesn't have more likes it was such an incredible read)

virgin! yuuji headcanons (he's just so whiney and such a good boy. omg i love fics where y/n is the more experienced one)

giggly sex drabble (the best type of sex i need more fics like this)

yuuji can't jack off to jennifer lawrence anymore because of YOU! (i think this initiated a yuuji phase for me...)

: ̗̀➛ katsuki bakugou x reader

gq couples quiz w/ katsuki (i am shocked this doesn't have ten thousand likes. it's perfect the characterisation is perfect. pls check out the creator's masterlist here everything is so so good)

multiple characters (jjk drabbles)

using your safe word (satoru + suguru)

boyfriend texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge + choso)

riding, missionary or doggy? (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso. btw the right answer is doggy)

bf texts (satoru, suguru, kento, toji, choso, megumi, toge + yuuji)

unholy drabbles!! (toji, satoru + kento)

cute texts during your period!! (satoru, choso, toji, megumi, yuuji, toge)

: ̗̀➛ also multiple characters (drabbles w/ unspecified names then characters listed at the end? i don't know how to describe this sorry lol)

eating you out sloppily omg (aot + jjk + genshin + demon slayer)

tits, ass or thighs? (bleach + jjk + jjba + one piece + csm)

men that are obsessed with thick women (jjk + kny + aot + tokyo revengers)

general fucking headcanons (jjk + aot + haikyuu + tokyo revengers + genshin + sk8 + csm)

quick question!! should i still link the really successful fics / blogs (like 4k+ notes, some have up to 15k!!), as i'm sure you will have already encountered them in their respective tags? in other words, should i focus on linking fics that are less interacted with? pls let me know <3

[glossysoap]

dirty talk ; captain mactavish | soap it up!

summary: snippets of what captain mactavish would say in bed.

this is also my first contribution towards @glitterypirateduck ‘soap it up’ challenge! thank you for encouraging entries even after the deadline lol, it’s much appreciated. and as always, if anyone is interested in a more fleshed out version of any of these headcanons, i’m open to writing a more detailed fic about it.

prompts used:

“I’ll take care of you.”

“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?”

“I’m going to marry you.”

warnings/tags: 18+, fem reader/afab, oral (f), fingering, squirting, mating press. this isn’t as rough as i would usually like to make it but i’ll make a rougher version soon :) also i whipped this up in like 2 hours in the middle of the night while i was fighting sleep so be gentle <3

notes: bolded sentences = lines he would say in bed.

word count: 1-1.5k

🏷️: @divine--serenity @violet-phantoms @jumbojazzcats93 @ghastlybirdie @loveyhoneydovey @vgilantee @blissful-bunny @damnirina @wrathofcats @claymorexpunisher @krakenbabe @luvecarson @mandalover2023 @lordlydragon @undeadsthings @kiroshang @ivymarquis @stargirlrchive @itzzjxlyn @msdevil333 (if your name is struck out, tumblr won’t let me tag you. pls check your settings. also, if you want to be added to my smut tag list, let me know. if you want to be added to my dark fic tag list, let me know. if you want to be added to my everything tag list, let me know. pls be specific on what list you wish to be added to. if you want to be removed from any list, pls let me know, there’s never any hard feelings.)

“Love this pretty fuckin’ pussy so much.” He murmurs softly into your skin, his stubble scratching against the warmth of your inner thigh as his strong arms work on holding your legs apart for him. Icy blue eyes studying your cunt with all of the focus ingrained in a captain — wearing a wolfish grin as he commits every detail to memory. As if it were the first time he ever saw it.

“Love you so much.” Then his eyes would flicker up to your face to gauge your reaction as he uses one thick finger to trace your slick folds. He takes his time gathering your juices on his fingers and spreading your lips apart. His lips quirk into a grin as he sees you bite your lip and your brows furrow. Before you could return his affections, his finger had begun dipping inside your folds.

But just dipping. Not giving you enough stimulation to get off but just enough to make your heart race. Enough to make you frustrated.

“Fuck, John! Please! Just touch me!” You beg, voice cracking as you look down at where he lay between your legs.

“I am touchin’ ye.” He looks up at you, feigning confusion as his finger continues to tease your slit so cruelly. “What do ye’ mean?”

“Mm, you know what I mean.” You try to stifle a moan as he traces little figure eights right at your entrance, only dipping just a fraction further inside. Keyword: try.

“If you don’t like my teasing, why are you moaning?” He asks, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he grins.

He loved your pathetic little whimpers and whines when you were so desperate for his tongue or his cock. But what he loved even more was feeling how drenched you were for him. He loved the unabashed moans that fell from your lips as you writhe in pleasure.

So he stopped teasing.

“So fuckin’ wet for me. Just soaking my fingers, lass.” He smiles as he pushes a thick finger in all the way to the knuckle, slipping in so easily from how slick you were. Your breath hitches as he dips his head down, letting his breath fan against your cunt. Just as he’s slipping in a second finger, his mouth is on your pussy. Lapping at your folds in wide and messy stripes, licking up all of your juices and moaning against your sensitive skin.

“Oh my God!” You cry out, hand moving to grab a fistful of his mohawk in an attempt to find purchase.

“Mmm, fuck! You taste so fucking good. Could do this all day.” He moans into your cunt, sending vibrations to your core. He’s so loud about it, dipping his tongue inside you and wrapping his lips around your swollen clit and sucking. All the while, his two fingers were pumping in and out beneath his tongue, preparing you for the stretch of his cock. His two fingers alternated between pumping at a cruel pace and scissoring inside your warmth, making you cry out. With his mouth making a mess of your pussy and his fingers moving in tandem, wet squelching sounds had started mixing with your moans.

“Please, please, please, John!” You didn’t even know what you were begging for. He was already touching you. But you just couldn’t help it. You had so much tension and stimulation built up, you needed to do something.

“Aw,” he can’t help but coo mockingly, “Dinnae worry, mo ghraidh.” My love.

“I’ll always take care o’ ye.” He grins against your throbbing cunt, before coming up from between your legs and switching your position in five seconds flat. He hikes your legs above his shoulders, knees pressed against your chest to leave you perfectly spread open for him.

With that same wolfish grin, he rubbed the head of his cock along your wet folds. He loved how soaked you were already, how much your juices were coating his cock. He heard your little gasp at the teasing and he saw your hips desperately buck up into the air. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you were so needy to be filled and fucked.

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen clit a few times, before pressing it against your entrance.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, love. Can barely move.” He chuckles in your ear when he first pushes in, easing his cock inside your cunt inch by inch. You gasp at his girth as he eases inside — his cock is always an adjustment for you, especially after a dry spell. He gives a small hiss from how tight you were, then after a minute, he groans because of how slippery and warm you were around his cock. Always taking him so well.

“That’s it, that’s it…” He croons into your ear as you clench around his cock, your juices mixing with his as he pumps in and out. You could feel his stubble scratching against your skin as he spoke, sending an additional chill down your spine as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.

He angles his hips a bit different so he can hit you even deeper. When he hears you sharply gasp, he laughs.

“Yeah, did I find that spot? Hmm?” He croons in your ear, not waiting for a response before his hips pick up the pace. He keeps hitting that sensitive spot in your cunt with thrust, groaning in your ear when he feels you squeeze him so good.

“Gonna fill you up, gonna make you mine.” He all but growls in your ear as he feels himself grow closer to his own release. He feels himself throbbing inside you, that knot inside his stomach growing tighter and tighter. All he wanted to do was fold your legs up to your chest and pump you full of his cum. He wanted to hear you whine and moan from being so full, all while having his cum trickle down from your soaked cunt.

“Good fuckin’ girl. I swear, one day I’m gonna marry ye’.” He murmurs in your ear, voice all gruff and husky as you gush all over his cock. Your cunt pulses and throbs, squeezing around him as your orgasm washes over you, leaving you absolutely breathless. His hips never faltering as he ruts into you, enjoying every cry and moan that falls from your lips. His breath fanning against your face as his forehead presses onto yours, blue eyes drinking in every twist of ecstasy in your expression.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[revasserium]

hi! I've been reading your opla!zoro stuff and I wanted to tell you your writing is so gorgeous! it's truly breathtaking, you're really talented ❤️ i've looked through your prompts tag, im not sure how requesting works, but could I ask for "edge of falling" or "the spaces between us" (whichever one you like the most) with zoro and fem!reader? i'm a goner for longing and feelings realization and the prompts give me those vibes, but i'm sure anything you write will be lovely <3

reqs are open!

the edge of falling

opla!zoro; 7,475 words; fluff and angst, hurt/comfort, passing mentions of: cult!, physical violence, & trauma/cult-programming, ex-cult member!reader, strawhat!reader, traumatized!reader, protective!zoro, healing from past trauma, learning to trust etc, angst with a happy ending!, a metric TON of plot

summary: "Lie to me," Time said to Love; Love smiled and said, "I promise, I'll never let you slip away."

a/n: thank u for the request anon!!! i uhm idk what happened with this fic tbh. there's def uh -- longing of SOME kind here??? welp. pls read the tw list! there's some dark-ish content in this. but i promise it ends well u__u

prelude: in which a fox teaches you to speak

Time is the greatest liar, so you are told, over and over and over. For the longest time, you think it’s the only truth you’ll ever know.

But we will live forever…

So long as you do the things you’re told. So long as you make the Fox happy. So long, so long, so long.

There is no way to mark the passage of time in the compound; with no sunlight to guide the way, you are left to other, more primal ways of keeping track — that elusive, silver-fish creature — time — always slipping through your fingers when want to hold on most.

You measure it in wounds, in the time it takes for a fresh wound to seal over, for the scab to break and reveal the soft, tender pink flesh beneath. You measure it in gulps of water, in bites of cold food, in the droplets of artificial rain that they let fall through the ceiling sometimes. You measure it in rewards too, in long baths and hot meals, in the evenings when the Fox would tell you stories in his low, lilting voice instead of leaving you in his seething silences.

And he is ever so good with stories. If you stay still and keep quiet, and let his voice wash over you like a hungry tide across a rain-starved beach, you can feel the words seeping into your bones, ringing out till they feel like nothing but god’s given truth.

As long as you’re good… I promise I’ll make you live forever.

Like this, you learn the weapon of words, the power of speech, how to listen for lies, and how to tell them, and tell them, and tell them.

The Fox is good at lying; you’ll just have to learn to be better.

act i: yet another sad, desperate soul

Roronoa Zoro has never been a man of many words, but it would be remiss to say that he isn’t a man of his word — you see, when he does speak, he speaks with intention. And always, with conviction.

“Hey. No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, then, is the first lie he tells you.

“Liar.” You spit out the word, drawing back, your body a tangle of livewire nerves, your eyes darting back and forth, an entire life’s worth of fight and flight caught on the hair-pin trigger of his breath as he jolts back slightly and blinks at you.

“Y-you — you can’t know that,” you say, your voice still ragged. But Zoro sees it for the attempt it is — an olive branch, however tentatively extended. And he takes it, wordlessly.

He nods once, reaching out to help you up. The compound crumbles around you, and you unconsciously wrap your arms around yourself, as if to hold yourself together, to keep from shattering into a hundred million tiny little shards of pain and mistrust.

“The fox-guy’s dead! But it looks like this whole island’s gonna blow!” Nami races out of the massive, temple-esque structure just as it starts to collapse from the inside out.

Luffy slingshots passed, cackling as Sanji and Usopp bring up the rear. On the Merry, Robin and Chopper are waiting, and the second Zoro manages to hoist you onto the main deck, the ship careens off into the dark tumult of waves.

You skitter away the minute Zoro’s arm slips from around your waist, and he turns to find you pressing yourself back against the railings, staring at them all with wide eyes, your expression caught halfway between fear and consternation. He takes half a step back, crossing his arms just as Luffy bounds forward with a bright, unassuming smile.

“Don’t worry! You’re safe now!” He makes to slap one of your shoulders but you duck out of the way, chewing on your bottom lip.

Robin clears her throat gently and offers you a smile, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

You narrow your eyes, your gaze darting between them like a trapped animal, but after another beat of stillness (punctuated only by Nami swearing softly to herself as she steers the Merry around a particularly difficult formation of rocks), your entire body seems to soften, and Zoro uncrosses his arms again, resting a hand casually on the hilt of his blades.

“Th-thank you…” you bob your head once, swallowing hard passed chapped lips and a raw throat. Your white linen dress is stained with blood and dirt, a tear at your collar making it slip from your shoulder.

“’S alright now, darlin’ — how bout we run you a nice, hot bath? I could cook you just about anything y’like. Fancy a drink as well? I think a bubbly would be good for a —”

“Lay off, cook.” Zoro cuts Sanji off with a scoff, barring Sanji’s approach with an arm in the gut.

You watch them with dark eyes, your expression curiously blank.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?” Chopper offers.

You jump a little at his voice, piping up from your left side. You glance at Zoro once before looking back at Chopper and nodding.

Sanji tucks his hands into his pockets and watches as Chopper leads you beneath the deck, Zoro following a few steps behind. He lights a cigarette as soon as the trap door clanks shut.

A beat of silence, and then —

“Wow, that island really, really sucked!” Luffy says, turning back to his crew.

Sanji lets out a puff of smoke as Usopp slumps down against the main mast with a groan.

“You can say that again.”

“What happened?” Robin asks.

Sanji sighs, shaking his head, “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

Below deck, Chopper dabs at your wounds with expert ease as you sit very still on the kitchen island and Zoro watches from the sofa, arms crossed loosely over his chest.

“These surface wounds aren’t that bad but…” Chopper trails off, his eyes running over the network of old scars that mar your skin, layers and layers of them — down your arms and along your torso.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice smooth as polished marble, “I’m —” you swallow, “I’m fine.”

And if it weren’t for the hiccup, the slight hitch in your breath, you would’ve been utterly convincing. Your expression is flat, your voice, even more so.

Across the room, Zoro makes disbelieving noise, “If it hurts, just say so. Chopper’ll fix it.”

“I’m… I’m fine,” you say again, tugging at the sleeve of your torn shift, your tone now a bit more honest, your words tired and resigned. Zoro looks to Chopper, who gives a faint nod of acquiescence before Zoro stands up and jerks his head towards the door.

“Cook’s right — you should wash up before dinner.”

You follow him down the hallway, through a small door that leads into a washroom that’s much cleaner than one might expect a ship’s bathroom to be. A large, wooden soaking tub sits in the middle of the room, and a clean change of clothes has already been laid out on a bench next to the bath.

Zoro grunts after he takes a once-over of the room, satisfied that all’s in order, and makes to leave.

You tug at his sleeve, head lowered.

“Can you…” you lick your lips, “can you stay?”

Zoro glances down at your fingers curled into his shirt sleeve before his eyes flick up to find your face. You’re looking at some indiscriminate point over his left shoulder, but your lips are trembling and your jaw is set.

He lets out a long breath, slowly twisting his body towards the room and you.

“Sure.”

He makes a show of turning around to face the door as you slip off your clothes and sink into the steaming bath water. A long exhale and the light slosh of water is all the indication he gets that it’s safe to turn back around.

He leans himself against the door, his swords propped on his shoulder, his head lolled back, his eyes closed.

He listens to the soft sounds of the water, to the faint splashes as you rub the grit and grime from your skin, inch by inch.

“We were only allowed to bathe as a reward for doing a good deed.”

Your voice makes him open his eyes, his gaze focusing in on the shape of you, nearly submerged in the bathtub, your hair slick and sticking to your pale shoulders. Even in this dim lighting, he can see the patterns your scars make against your skin. Water glimmers along the contours of your face as you run your palms along your cheeks, rubbing at them till they’re ruddy with color.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth, “Quit bein’ so rough,” he moves forward without thinking, reaching out a hand to help you with some of the more stubborn pieces of dirt but he pauses, realizing how utterly still you’ve gone.

You stare at him for a long moment before relaxing back into the water and shifting towards the edge of the tub to allow him better access.

He runs a callused thumb along your cheekbones, wiping away the remaining dirt there.

“What was a ‘good deed’?” he asks, letting the tips of his fingers skim the warm water’s surface.

You shrug, “Mostly anything that made Mr. Fox happy… so all of us would —” you take another breath, your hand opening and closing beneath the surface of the still bath water, “we’d spend all our waking hours trying to think of something — anything — that’d please him. No matter how small… no matter how… terrible.”

“This Mr. Fox… what was his deal, anyway?”

You stare down into the dark water, now rapidly cooling from warm to lukewarm.

You take a deep breath, lifting a hand out of the water to distort the image of your ghostly reflection.

“He… was a liar. Except… he could make all his lies sound like the truth.”

“It was uncanny, really,” Sanji says, now at full throttle in the kitchen prepping for dinner service, Usopp lounging on sofa, his feet propped up on the hanging table.

Chopper and Robin both frown.

“What do you mean?” Robin asks.

“It was like… the guy could say anything and make it sound like the truth — even though you knew somewhere inside you that it can’t be real. Like — he could tell you the sky was green and every single part of you would believe him, even though you’re outside and starin’ up at the sky.”

“Yeah! Like he said I’d never be able to beat him and… for a second, I kinda almost believed him!” Luffy offers, munching on a bushel of apples and spitting out the seeds.

Robin’s brows furrow, tapping at her chin with a thin finger.

“It sounds like the Uso-Uso no Mi…”

“Ugh, what a weird, scary power…” Chopper shudders, shaking his head, his tiny hooved hands coming up to cup his cheeks, “I’m sure it’d mess with people’s heads!”

“It sure did. But he also used it to feed false information to the Marines,” Nami says, slipping through the half-opened door to join the rest of the crew on the sofa, “ran a series of taverns that just so happened to be situated in major Marine towns.”

Sanji glances up from a huge, steaming pan of paella, a cigarette caught between his teeth.

“So what was his end goal then? Just to fuck over the Marines?”

Back in the bathroom, you run your fingers along the edge of the tub as if playing an invisible piano.

“Power, domination… I don’t think he had a goal or purpose… I think… he just got off on it…”

Your voice is light, conversational, almost as if you were talking about the weather. But Zoro sees the glazed look in your eyes, the tightness at the edges of your lips.

“You called me a liar,” he says, reaching into the tub and flicking you lightly with a bit of water.

You blink, a smile threatening the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah… guess I did.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He pulls out his hand and wipes it on a towel, leaning back to stare at you.

You shrug, “Sometimes… people lie to others, and sometimes, people lie to themselves. It’s the ones we tell ourselves that are always the most convincing.”

“I don’t lie. ‘Specially not to myself.”

You let out a tiny laugh, “But I guess… sometimes, if you believe in something hard enough… it’ll just start to be come the truth.”

There’s a note of… something in your voice that Zoro doesn’t like, but he can’t put a name to the feeling so he stays quiet as you continue the laborious work of scrubbing your skin clean, till all the water in the tub’s gone cold.

The rest of the evening passes as most evenings on the Merry do after a big fight — with a lot of food and even more booze. With music and laughter, and new crew member, sitting in the corner, watching mostly and smiling occasionally. No one pushes you, though Sanji does make a valiant effort in getting you to admit to your favorite foods, and Luffy tries two or three times to drag you into the more raucous celebrations (mostly involving way too much meat being roasted on a spike).

No one questions the way Zoro never wanders too far.

No one questions the way your eyes track him around the room, or how, even when Robin and Nami finally get a laugh out of you, you still instinctively searched for Zoro’s figure till you’ve found it in the other corner, a bottle caught between his lips, his eyes half-shut but his gaze caught on you like a fish to a seaman’s hook.

act ii: everything and nothing

A week passes, and then another. And you slowly, but surely, come out of your shell — it’s a strange sort of blossoming, the way you reveal yourself in shards and pieces, jagged and jarring. The shrapnel bits of your personality peaking out amidst the flotsam and jetsam of all your manifold defense mechanisms.

You’re a brilliant liar, but even better at spotting a lie, and it’s a thing that none of the crew had ever really thought about until you’d come along, casually poking holes in their daily deceits.

“Mm! These pancakes are perfect! Just the way I like them!”

“The new dress looks beautiful, Nami.”

“I absolutely did not finish the last bag of popcorn… Luffy did it!”

You clear your throat.

“Okay fine… the pancakes were really good but… but I like them… sweeter.”

“The dress is… well, everything looks gorgeous on you, of course, you know that Nami! But — the color… clashes just a tiny little bit with your… hair.”

“I might’ve uh… taken a few bites out of the popcorn bag… last night… but I was keeping watch and I needed to keep my energy up!”

Robin titters, a sphinx-like smile spreading across her lips.

“Apparently, 60% of people lie at least once every 10 minutes,” she says, casually taking a sip of orange juice as Zoro runs through his daily training regime, seemingly unbothered by the chaos currently taking place on the main deck regarding the “popcorn incident”.

“Dunno why people bother,” Zoro says, working through a set of single-armed burpees.

“I suppose it’s just human nature. We want other people to like us… so we say what we think they might want to hear, instead of what we really think. It’s harmless, mostly,” Robin remarks, leaning back against a white planter box, basking in the shade of the tangerine trees.

“Till it isn’t,” Zoro says, finishing up his workout and pushing himself up for a long stretch. He casts his eyes once more towards where you’re now laughing as Usopp tries to think of some new tall tale to tell.

It only takes you half a second to turn your head, and Zoro wonders at the kind of life you might’ve led to make you so sensitive to another person’s gaze. What must’ve happened to warrant this kind of alertness? But then again, he’d been a hunter long enough to know exactly what being hunted looks like.

He caught a glimpse of it at the compound but — still, his fingers itch toward his swords, his jaw clenches tight enough for Robin to cock her head and raise a brow.

“Yes… until it isn’t…” she echoes, her eyes also trailing towards you.

Zoro holds your gaze for a second before rolling his shoulders and looking away, squinting at the far horizon.

“Oi. Looks like trouble.”

Robin straightens, and a second later, Chopper sounds the alarm from the crow’s nest.

“Marines! Marines!”

There is the shink of swords being drawn, the gentle echo of Robin’s voice as her arms multiply. There’s canon fire and a lot of yelling. But at the end, there’s only bodies and blood and the tattered remains of the Marine’s ship, bobbing in the stained sea below them.

“Should we go after them?” Sanji asks, lighting up a cig, watching as the tiny emergency boat rows off into the distance.

“Nah. We’ll be alright!” Luffy says, wiping a hand across his nose.

Zoro turns towards you, sheathing his swords.

“You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice immediately taking on an unctuous sheen that makes Zoro take a step closer.

“You hurt anywhere?” he runs an appraising eye down your form and nods in the knowledge that at least you don’t look hurt.

“No… I —” you chew down on your bottom lip, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your arms. But you back away from him the moment he tries to take a step forward.

“Hey — quit that,” he taps at your wrist with the hilt of his sword, the touch hard but not harsh, forcing you to pull away.

“It’s — I’m — I’m alright,” you say, insistent and mollifying. Zoro runs his thumb against the hilt of his blades and scoffs.

“Liar,” he says, tossing the word casually back at you in a way that makes your breath hitch. Then, he turns, and marches below decks to tend to his own wounds.

A deafening silence rings out around you as you stare down at the ships blood-drenched planks before Robin places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon now — lets get your back looked at.”

Below decks, you find Zoro dabbing gingerly at a large slash on his right arm.

“Here, you’ve missed a spot —” you reach out to take the iodine soaked cloth from Zoro’s hand, only to have him jerk away. You flinch back, wide-eyed.

Zoro softens, if only ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he says, a harsh edge to his voice as he goes back to trying to twist around himself enough to see the spot he’s missed. You purse your lips, watching him for a second, two seconds, three — before you glance back at the place Robin had been only to realize that she’d gone.

“May… I?” you reach out your hand, palm up, tentative and imploring. But you hold yourself still, waiting for Zoro to make the next move. And he does, eventually, sighing as he turns back around to drop the piece of cloth into your palm.

You reach forward as he turns to his side, offering up his arm as you slowly start to wipe away at the bits of dried blood caking his skin to reveal the raw, red gash, the angry, raised flesh around it. You lean forward, blowing slightly as you daub at the wound, making your way down his bicep till the entire cut’s been coated in iodine.

“There. All done.”

You lean back to toss the cloth into the sink but Zoro stops you. He catches your wrist in his good hand and with a slight tug, has you toppling forward towards his chest.

“Turn around.”

His voice is soft, but firm. And it leaves no room for protests as you stare at him for a long moment before sighing and resigning yourself to your fate. You turn to show him your back.

A disgruntled huff is all you get before you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro rummaging around the first aide kit for a fresh piece of cloth, and the pop of the iodine bottle opening again.

“Who did this?” he asks as he slowly reaches out to tug a thin spike from your skin, small as a needle and just as sharp. You bite back a wince.

“The porcupine guy…” your voice trails off as Zoro grunts.

“Right.”

He tugs out another spike; it tinks against the metal of the sink as he tosses it away. A brief sting, and then the cooling feeling of the iodine cloth.

After a few minutes of working in silence, Zoro sighs.

“Geez, he really got you bad, didn’t he?”

“Not really,” you say, and you feel Zoro’s hands pause.

“No?”

You shake your head, “I’ve… been through much worse… and lived to tell the tale so…”

Zoro doesn’t need to ask to know that you’re talking about your past on the island, inside that windowless compound. He can see it in the scars that mar nearly the entirety of your back, the criss-cross lines of what looks like knife-wounds, the occasional puckered marks that look suspiciously like burns. He steels himself then, and continues to work — plucking out a spike and cleaning out the wound.

“You were right,” he says, when he finally finishes cleaning up your back and you both straighten to face each other. He wipes his hands clean and winces slightly as he flexes his newly bandaged arm.

“Right about what?” your voice is innocent, but the flash in your eyes tells him that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“That first day — I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t… make sure that no one ever hurt you again.”

His fingers curl into fists at his sides and you can see the muscle ticking in his jaw as he clenches his teeth.

You reach out, tracing a thumb along his jawline. When you pull back, there’s a small daub of blood on your finger and you wipe it away without breaking his gaze.

“No, you couldn’t but… you tried.”

Zoro scoffs, “Tryin’s not good enough.”

“No,” you jerk up to glare at him, your voice harsh in a way that he’s only ever heard right after they’d rescued you, the edges of your words raw and ragged as a serrated blade, “trying is everything.”

interlude: truth or dare

It gets better after that, and you grow and bloom and grow some more. Zoro does too, though in his own way — he gets stronger, gets faster, hits harder. And though you two never quite agree on anything, he is always by your side, and you’re somehow always by his.

“’M not even a lil drunk —”

“Liar~” you singsong, giggling as Zoro shakes his head, tipping the remains of a bottle of sake back down his throat before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand.

“Mm… ‘s that all I am to you? Just another guy who lies?” Zoro swings lazily on the hammock hung on the main deck, his eyes half-lidded and alight with the dancing firelight.

“Stupid question — drink,” you answer, bringing our own bottle up to your lips.

Zoro laughs, quiet and pleased as he reaches for a new bottle.

“Alright then — truth or dare?” he asks, uncorking the new bottle and reaching out to offer you some. You bat him away, your movements languid and heavy, your back pressed against a heavy wooden barrel, one leg propped up to support your arm, the other stretched out long and lithe in front of you.

“Truth,” you say, your voice easy, your smile even more so.

“Alright then — do you trust me?” Zoro’s voice dips, and your eyes flash up. There’s a sobering light somewhere behind the alcohol soaked haze clouding his gaze and you can tell by the steadiness of his hands that he’s not nearly as drunk as he might seem.

“What do you mean?” you ask, casually evading the question.

Zoro tuts, “’S not an answer.”

“I’m asking for a clarification.”

Zoro shakes his head, taking another soft swig, “Simple question — do you trust me?”

You purse your lips, mulling over the myriad answers you could provide and make it sound like the truth. But that’s not really how the game goes. So instead, you take a deep breath.

“I — I want to,” and it’s the way your voice breaks that makes it honest, the way you can’t hold the truth in by the seams of your careful cadence, no matter how hard you try to smooth out the ragged edges.

“So… that’s a no,” Zoro says, keeping his tone even. You can’t help reaching for him — imploring.

“Not yet but —”

“Why?”

“Why… what?”

“I guess…” Zoro leans back, casting his eyes up at the wild, dark sky, careening above the ship in an ecstatic spread of stars and, long sinuous, moon-silvered clouds, “why d’you want to trust me? Doesn’t seem like something you’d be eager to do after… y’know, everything.”

You lick your lips and stare into the empty bottom of your glass.

“Honestly?” you say, “because you’re kind of a shit liar —”

Zoro lets out a soft, rumbling laugh, but doesn’t deny it.

“But… also because you’re the only person I’ve met who… who treats words so carefully — I mean…” you swallow, leaning forward slightly as Zoro drops his gaze back down to you, “it’s like — my whole life has just been people saying things they don’t really mean, and never meaning what they say, and then trying to figure out what’s really happening — trying to say the right thing, not the thing you mean but the thing you think they’d want to hear —” your breath quickens, “and — and if you don’t or if you’re bad at it, then bad things happen to you and the people you care about —”

“Hey.”

A hand presses down on your shoulder and you gasp, your breath knifing through your chest as you clasp your shaking hands to your sternum.

“Breathe. You’re okay.”

You nod, unable to say anything as Zoro sits in front of you, his hand like an anchor in a summer storm, keeping you tethered.

You breathe and take stock of your limbs — feet, legs, hands, arms. It’s then that you realize Zoro’s crouching in front of you, your drink glass resting by his side.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding as he gives your shoulder a slight squeeze before pulling away. Physical touch has never been one of your strong points, and it seems Zoro’s learned that without you ever having to tell him.

It’s strange — the sudden knowledge that somehow, his understanding of you has been wordless and implicit. Complete, from nearly the day the Straw Hats had picked you up on that island. You’d never had to explain, never had to draw your boundaries.

And yet somehow, he knew. As if he’d always just known.

“Truth or dare?” you ask him, your voice barely a whisper, shifting to make more space for him on the dark deck of the ship’s forecastle. Zoro sits down in front of you, crossing his legs.

“Dare.”

You don’t fight the grin as it lifts the side of your lips.

The quiet pulses between the pair of you like a heartbeat.

“Tell me a secret.”

“Gotta be more specific,” Zoro’s grin lilts to mirror your own.

“Any secret,” you say, “something you… something you wouldn’t otherwise say out loud.”

“Isn’t that what a secret’s supposed to be? Something you don’t say?”

You laugh, tasting the sound like a mouthful of champagne, bubbling up through you and spiraling towards the endless summer’s night.

“Quit stalling!”

“Think I wanna kiss you.”

A gasp slices through the air between you. You feel the weight of it in your throat, the white-hot flicker of his gaze as he glances down at your lips. You wet them without thinking, and as Zoro lean’s in, you can sense the night around you slowly coalescing into something warm, something solid. Like a marble clutched in a child’s palm, or a pearl held on an oyster’s velvet tongue.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

He stops just short of your lips, his nose almost grazing yours. You can nearly taste the sweet sake on his breath —

“Dare.”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes flutter and for a second, an eternity revolves in the space between your heartbeats. Faintly, you register the gentle rocking of the ship as an indolent wave catches her starboard side.

You close your eyes.

For a second, there is space. For a second, there is breath. For a second, there is gravity. And then — all of that disappears. All of it eclipsed by the kiss. And then, the kiss is all there is.

All there was, and ever will be.

There’s a graze of fingers against skin, the bump of legs against legs against thighs against knees — there’s knuckles and noses and hair falling, hair being tugged into closing fists. There’s the clink-clink-clink of earrings, and the clatter-clap-clat of swords and hilts and rough, wooden planks.

There’s the dull thunk and baseline rumble of a glass being knocked over and rolling away.

But all of that is afterthought. All of that is supplement, a postscript, marginalia and footnotes.

Because there, then — there is only the kiss, and nothing but the kiss: a catastrophe of inevitability, smooth as a secret, and whisper-sweet.

When the pair of you pull away, there’s a chaos of wings against your ribcage.

There’s the honeyed, lambent light in Zoro’s eyes as he grins down at you.

“Truth — or dare,” a breathless gasp punctuates your words.

Zoro’s grin only grows as he tips your chin back between his thumb and forefinger.

“Dare.”

It’s only then that you realize his cheeks are wine-flushed, his chest rising and falling nearly as fast as yours. You swallow slow and track his eyes as he watches the pale bob of your throat.

“Kiss me again.”

act iii: fool’s gold

It takes all of three hours for Sanji to get something out of Zoro, and three days before Robin and Nami manage to wheedle something out of you.

“No seriously! Things have been different since that one party we had —” Nami presses her palm to the kitchen table, here eyes wide. Robin sits on the couch, her expression one of mixed amusement and near academic interest.

“Different how?” you reach into the cookie jar and fish out a crumbled corner of what used to be a double chocolate chip cookie.

“Ugh! You know what I mean!” Nami turns to Robin, motioning towards you, “Help me here!”

Robin laughs, tossing up a graceful hand, “I suppose something does seem… changed.”

“Something?” you ask, licking at a smudge of chocolate on your thumb.

“Well…” Robin says, drawing out the syllable and making to examine the nails on her long, thin fingers, “it’s definitely not nothing.”

You allow yourself a smile, “Something’s definitely not nothing.”

Nami lets out a frustrated groan, but she’s smiling too.

It’s been long enough that you’d learned to relax around them, and you’d since also learned that nothing is so sacred as the sanctity of sisterhood. That bonds between friends might be forged in fire and brimstone, but bonds between women are forged in cinder and smoke — in the wreckage of after, when the fighting’s been done and all that’s left is the mending.

“What’s all this giggling about?” Zoro ducks into the half-ajar door, staring at the three of you.

Nami cocks an eyebrow; Robin shrugs.

You, for your part, smile and bat your lashes.

“Oh nothing,” you say.

“Just girl-talk,” offers Nami.

“Nothing to interest a legendary swordsman like yourself,” Robin polishes off.

Zoro’s eyes narrow, his gaze jumping between the three of you before it lands on you and he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. We’re docking soon.”

And that’s all he offers before sauntering back out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him, but not before you catch sight of the redness at the tips of his ears as he hurries away.

You give it a beat of three seconds before pushing to your feet and following after, humming to yourself. Behind you, Nami and Robin share a knowing look.

“Definitely not nothing,” Robin says as she stands to follow you.

The island, if it can even be called that, is nothing more than a rough conglomeration of steep cliffs strapped together by a thin band of land barely wide enough to be categorized as a beach.

“Well! This is something!” Luffy declares, his arms akimbo on his hips as he stares at the island.

“Yeah… it’s uh… something for sure,” Usopp agrees, making a face as he squints at the cluster of rocks that look more like the jagged edges of a broken bottle than any kind of proper land formation.

“We’ll just anchor here for the night… get some good rest, and then...” Sanji’s words trail off, interrupted by a ghostly wail that rises from the gathering of dark cliffs, turning them into an echo chamber until it seems to rumble through the sand beneath them.

“… gold, all gold! — no, not a liar — please!”

A shiver etches itself up your spine and instinctively, you wrap your arms around yourself.

Zoro steps out in front of you, as if to shield you from whatever might come. His thumb presses against the hilt of his swords, his shoulders tense as corded wire.

“Uh… everyone else heard that too, right?” Chopper asks, peaking out from around Robin’s legs.

“Yep. Definitely not just you,” Sanji confirms.

Luffy grins, “Seems like there’s someone else on this island! Maybe they can show us around!”

Time passes by strangely on the island — one minute, the sun is still hanging low on the far horizon, and the next, the sky is the color of a bullet wound, darkness seeping in around the horizon.

“Whoever’s here on the island — they sure aren’t making it — easy —” Sanji grunts as he hoists himself up a slippery piece of rock face, sweat glistening on his forehead as he squints into the looming blackness.

“Luffy? You sure you know where we’re going?” Nami shouts, her voice ringing back in a way that makes everyone wince and cover their ears.

Zoro grabs your elbow a second before you slip, fingers digging into your flesh even as you steady yourself against him.

“Sorry — thanks,” you say, unsure of which one you really mean.

“Yeah! I can smell something — like a campfire! And… cooking!” Luffy’s voice calls back from somewhere in the gathering dark. Everyone shares a glance before bracing themselves and trudging on.

By the time you all catch up to Luffy, no one is certain of what time it is, only that it’s dark. But the kind of darkness that seems to cling to the skin — a darkness so dense it starts to take on shape and weight.

It presses in around you and you feel your breaths shortening in your chest.

Beside you, Zoro reaches out to brace a hand at the small of your back.

“Oh! I see a light ahead! C’mon!” Luffy’s voice rings out from somewhere up ahead, followed by the patter of sandals on stone. The rest of you follow, and then all too suddenly, light flickers to life in what seems to be a huge, subterranean cave deep within the cliffs of the island. It casts stark shadows against the slick, cavernous walls.

You frown, goosebumps rising along your arms and legs.

But before you have time to dwell on the wrongness of something there, Luffy’s voice snags your attention like a thread on an errant splinter.

“Hi! Oh, wow — that looks delicious!”

You turn a corner to find Luffy hunkering down over a blazing campfire and the silhouette of someone sitting opposite him, a sharp spike held out in front of them, turning slowly over the flickering flames.

“Oh… please… come join me — sit and listen to a story — I have so many stories — so many adventures to share!” the figure across the fire seems to quiver with the dancing flames, his voice filling up the whole of the cave, loud and boisterous and eager. But strange and hollow too.

You frown, chewing on the insides of your cheeks.

Ahead of you, Usopp and Chopper both take tentative seats next to Luffy, who had cheerfully plopped down next to the fire.

“Wow, this looks great! Are you here by yourself? I’m here with my crew! Are you a pirate too?” Luffy asks, his endless enthusiasm pouring from him like a spring.

Robin, Nami, and Sanji all hold back, but you take a step forward, and then another. Something compelling you towards the voice, pulling you closer. There’s a desperation, a loneliness with which you’re all too familiar — you inch closer, and then closer, till you’re almost level with Luffy, and you lower yourself to the ground next to him, Zoro dropping down beside you, his knee pressing against your leg in a silent reassurance.

“Come… come closer! It’s a good story — I promise!”

“Truth,” you mutter, just beneath your breath. Beside you, Zoro lets out a puff of breath, though his stance doesn’t loosen.

Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of the rest of the crew drawing just a step closer.

“Once upon a time… there was a city on an island where everything, and I mean everything was made of gold!”

The figure across the fire sounds cheered, elated even. Behind you, you feel Nami take half a step closer. Cold seeps into your veins despite the warm, dancing flames, and your fingers dig into the hard packed earth beneath you.

“I found it — I did! With my crew — the best sailors and seamen around! But the king… he was greedy! And he wanted his own men to take the treasures, so he forced me to lead them to the city again —”

“Truth,” you say again, but something in the tone of the figure’s voice makes you frown.

“Except… the city had gone… and there was nothing left… nothing but lies!”

You shudder back, swallowing hard. All around you, the darkness presses in with long, thin tendrils like so many loving fingers. The fire flares up, casting sparks up towards the cave’s ceiling, where stalagmites hang like broken teeth in a petrified monster’s maw.

“Oh… don’t be scared… come back — I won’t hurt you —”

“Liar!” you spit, the word scraping its way out of your throat.

Zoro leaps to his feet just as Luffy does the same. The fire flares again, a second before snuffing itself out, but in that second, you finally catch sight of the figure, hooded in shadow, sitting across from you — it has the shape of a man, tall and broad, but the limbs of a spindle-legged monster. It wears the darkness like a cloak, with beady, red eyes and a too-wide mouth.

“Don’t! Call me a liar! That’s what they called me — that’s what they called when they killed me! KILLED ME FOR TELLING THE TRUTH!”

You scramble back, Zoro nearly lifting you off the ground in his haste to pull you away. Luffy whips back his arm and swings it forward but all it catches is tendrils of shadow.

“Hey! That’s not nice!” he shakes off his fist, frowning as he stares at the bits of wriggling darkness still clinging to his skin.

“Run!” you shout as everyone bolts for the lightless path you all took to get to the heart of the cave.

“NOT A LIAR! NOT A LIAR! I FOUND IT! THE CITY! BELIEVE ME! BELIEVE ME!”

You clap your hands around your ears and race for what you hope is the exit. Behind you, you can hear the distinct sounds of Zoro’s blades whistling through the air*.*

“Damnit! How’dyou fight a shadow? There’s nothin’ to hit!”

“Quit tryna hit it and just run!” Sanji’s voice answers a second before he breezes passed you.

“Why don’t you believe me? Why?!”

“We — I believe you!” you shout, your chest a thundering mess of footfalls and scrambling bodies, and against all instinct, you turn around to face the darkness again, cupping your hands around your mouth, “I believe you! I know — I know you’re telling the truth!”

“What’re you doing?” Zoro asks, leveling himself by your side, his arm pressing against yours. Behind you, the thinnest sliver of light is creeping into the cave from what you assume is the entrance.

Morning. Has it really been that long?

Time is the greatest liar, you remember, suddenly, violently, the thought tearing through you like teeth.

“I — he’s telling the truth,” you say through gritted teeth, even as you take a few steps back. Inside the cave, the figure seems to shrink back from the encroaching light.

“What truth?” Zoro asks, his blade held aloft, his stance wide and ready.

“All of it,” you say, forcing your voice to be gentle, turning your face back towards the darkness, “I know, I can hear it — I know you’re telling the truth — about the island, the city — all of it!”

“Yes… all I wanted was to get back to the city… but… no one believe me… and I died… I died for it!”

“I know, and I’m sorry… no one should be punished for telling the truth —” your voice cracks.

“I tried!”

“I know…” you say as the figure shrinks and shrinks and shrinks and the light behind you grows and grows and grows, until you can feel the warm seeping into the skin of your back.

“And trying is everything,” you say, biting your lip as Zoro wraps an arm around your waist.

“Come with me… I’ll take you to the city — we can go together!”

You shake your head, heat prickling at your eyes as you turn away from the darkness of the cave and towards the light of the oncoming day.

“Liar…” the word falls from you like a rock, or a tear, cast off the cliff that greets you and Zoro as you both stare over the edge. The rest of the crew is nowhere to be found, but Zoro’s arm is still around your waist, and you can feel his warm breath by your cheek.

“Hey — do you trust me?”

You look up; in the dawning, morning light, Zoro, with his sun-kissed skin and dark moss hair appears to be limned in gold.

And maybe it’s the air, or the sea, or simply the angry pieces of this jagged, left-behind island of shadows like broken teeth trying to tear apart the sky, conducting his voice into a cacophony of echoes that sing and scream through the crags and eves of the valley beneath — but the whole island seems to reverberate with the question —

Do you trust me?

You close your eyes and breath. When you open them again, your heartbeat is steady. And when you speak, the rising sun streaks the tips of the saw-toothed peaks in strokes of molten gold. The valleys beneath you conduct your answer into an entire single-syllabled symphony —

Yes.

You feel his arm tighten around your waist, the wind as it tangles soft fingers in your hair. All around you, everything is light, and light, and light.

“Jump!”

You close your eyes, and jump.

-----

footnotes/appendix

uso-uso no mi translates to "lie-lie fruit"; i made it up bc it would be too op to have in the actual animanga i think

the "acts" refer to a classical 3-act structure that most movies/plays/scripts are written in: setup, confrontation, and resolution... with a smattering of other things sprinkled in for ~vibes~

in much of classical japanese and chinese mythology, foxes are associated with trickers and lies, often turning into beautiful women to deceive men, luring them into forests and mountains before taking their lives

the "figure" in the last scene is... can you guess? noland! kudos to anyone who figured it out as they were reading *\ (>o<) /*

did i absolutely take the "do you trust me" line from disney's aladdin??? HELL YEAH i did !!!! tru trust is my kink u__u

[vacayisland]

Could you do a John Dory x Retired Singer/Musician Reader? Pls and thank you

(I loved meet the wifie I fucking cackled at "imma beat his ass!")

@!; Oldies are always better. John Dory / Retired! Reader

"Tag List"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat

ꨄ︎. You were a big alt-indie musician, making music that tended to have a little bit of everything; the funk and beat of the funk tribe and the techno tribe, the guitar riffs and drum solos from the rock tribe, some classical instruments as undertones, and pop-like lyrics and beats. All the while you also put your own spin on it. Music had always been an outlet for you, always allowed you to take what was in your head and thread it into sound for everyone to hear. Sometimes it was chaotic, sometimes it was mellow, and it always depended on your mood when writing, composing, and singing. It's usually was drew people to your music. It was down to Earth, yet also complex and simple at the same time. Those who wanted to dive into the meaning of your music and dissect it would find multiple layers, many undertones that all harmonized. Those who just wanted to vibe out to your music could do that as well.

ꨄ︎. When you had left your career behind, it wasn't because of anything bad. You left with one final song in which explained that you were stepping down to let the new generation to find their own flow, to let other people take the stage, to be able to sit back and enjoy everything that will come in the future. You were only around 24 when you put down your guitar for the final time for the public; But you never gave up music for good on your own. While you never published anything anymore, you kept writing and composing for yourself as it was truly your passion.

ꨄ︎. This is when JD found you, playing in a friend's cafe. You had caught his attention right away, so much so he didn't hear the waiter when he had asked for JD's order. He was honestly so captivated by you for a moment he wondered if you were some sort of siren. He soon realized, yeah no you weren't, you just were really, really good. And he needed your number, badly. And that sounded a little creepy, but when you see someone who's not only good looking but knows how to sing and play an instrument all in one? You don't miss that chance to talk them up, and JD was defiantly not missing his chance!

ꨄ︎. JD didn't see a ring on your finger, it was fair game for him. Luckily you hadn't been seeing anyone at the time, but you still gave him a reality check after he approached you as though he was the coolest guy on the planet; Introducing himself before using some sort of cheesy pick up line to get your number. "Hey, babe, my name is John Dory and you seem rather lonely. You know, I can fill that 'me' shaped hole in your heart if you give me your number!" And then he winked!? Your friend was flabbergasted. You thought he was really brave.

ꨄ︎. And you hate to admit that his stupid pick-up line (which didn't even seem like a pick-up line!) actually worked and he got your number. (And he would be so smug and proud about this fact for the rest of his life.)

ꨄ︎. You two talked for a few months before making anything official, and then you waited about a year or two before you two even thought about moving in together. Even so, by 6 months of dating you basically lived in Rhonda; Your stuff littered his home, you had your own set of clothes there, your own toothbrush, and even your own house slippers. Then when you moved in, it felt natural. It felt like this was where you were always meant to end up and somehow the planets aligned. And for some reason JD never noticed the fact you brought in an electric guitar, which also sat in your shared closet. Sometimes you wonder if he's just stupid or a little blind, because he's also seen your play.

ꨄ︎. Either way, one day when he was hoisting his brothers over (after the whole Floyd situation got resolved, and god you were kind of glad you were staying with friends during all of that; not because you didn't like his brothers but because you didn't think you could handle meeting his family during that whole situation.) when they heard you playing your guitar in the bedroom. You weren't doing anything fancy, mostly tuning the guitar and making sure the strings didn't need to be replaced. But, of course, that always had to include one of your most iconic guitar riffs from a song about fighting your crushing mentality during the lowest part of your career. "Holy shit dude, I didn't know your lover listened to (Y/N)!" Branch would be the first to comment, being the most diverse music listener in the family. Floyd, who had been distracted by the riff, perked up at the conversation and nodded in agreement. JD only gave them a confused look, leaning against his kitchen counter, "Dude, my lover is (Y/N)?" And JD wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't all four of his brothers stopping and staring at him completely baffled. Mostly Floyd and Branch, who soon yelled a rather loud, "WHAT?!" "What?!" Which only confused JD more.

ꨄ︎. You hadn't met JD's family before this point, but you've heard all about them; Not only from JD, when he told you about his band days, and when you heard them around the trailer when they would come over. Usually you stayed in the bedroom, not to be rude yet to just let JD have his time with his brothers. Yet, you couldn't understand what all the yelling was about, "Yo, Que te pasa? Why the hell are you guys yelling?" You would ask, poking your head out of the door to the bedroom. Your expression tired, your hair messier, yet you could care less at this moment; You were sure JD's brothers wouldn't mind, they would see you worse later on since you were planning to stay with that big doofus. "Oh my god-" You flinched when Floyd dropped the cup he was holding, his jaw dropping upon seeing you; And honestly, for a second, you forgot you used to be a big artist. "John Dory," You started, startled by the reactions his brothers were giving, "Vas a decirme lo que esta pasando ahora mismo."

ꨄ︎. JD is always a little intimidated when you speak Spanish, mostly because his Grandma used to scold him and his brothers in Spanish. So he only explained (rather quickly) how his brothers had heard you tuning your guitar in the bedroom and how they just got weird. And that's when Branch defended himself, along with Floyd, how JD never told them that you were his lover! "And what's it to you that I love your brother?" You shot back quick and snappy, crossing your arms as you shot a glare their way. You weren't above throwing hands with JD's brothers. Floyd noticed the way JD glanced away, sipping his coffee. He was quick to stand up, placing a hand on Branch's shoulder to calm him, before explaining the whole situation to you better; Saying how Branch and Floyd were just big fans of your music and they didn't realize that you were with JD, because no matter how much JD spoke about you he never told them that you were his lover.

ꨄ︎. "Oh, Mierda lo siento." God, this made things a little awkward, "I thought you were about to be one of those horrible step-siblings that didn't like his brother's lover for some dumb reason like my hair." "What? No!-" "No, yeah, I see that now. My bad, really sorry." You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, "JD can be really, really dense sometimes, shut it John Dory!," You pointed a finger at JD before he could make a peep in protest about your slight insult, but it was made out of full love. "Let's start over, hi I'm (Y/n) and it's really nice to meet you."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say, JD forgot to tell his brothers that he was dating an old sensational artist...and kind of forgot you were one and was very shocked to realize this! Furthermore, you were a little flabbergasted when he revealed that some of BroZone's songs were influenced by your music. You would stare at JD after he confessed such a large secret, "Wow... that's a big insult." You mumbled sarcastically under your breath. "EXCUSE ME?!" But you guessed JD missed the sarcasm. "I'm being sarcastic, love. That's kind of sweet." Playfully rolling your eyes, you pressed a kiss into JD's cheek before turning back to his brothers. You crossed your legs, rested your elbow against your knee, and held your face in your hands. "Now about you four, how about we get to actually know each other. I'm planning to remain in this family after all..."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say that JD is wifing/husbanding/etc. you up really quick.

ꨄ︎. He still brags about how he first got your number and how he managed to 'snatch you up' before anyone else could. You told him he's too old to use new lingo and to stop, lovingly of course as you didn't want your 'husband' to embarrass himself. He melted hearing you call him husband before getting a bigger ego boost; And you had fun watching him terrorize his siblings while his ego was so inflated. You even jokingly did the whole 'I'm watching you' eyes to one of his brothers (Clay) as a silent threat that this is how you were always going to hand JD off to them like. He gave you the biggest (playful) stink eye ever. Yeah, you're going to fit right into this family.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[cowboylikeyouu]

🦾 WINTERHAWK RECS 🏹

@bl0ssomized asked for some winterhawk fic recs & i took that as my sign to finally sit down, go through my 500+ bookmarks and provide y'all with my fav fics <3 if you end up reading/enjoying any of these, PLEASE make sure to leave a comment on ao3, the authors deserve all the nice words in the world!!

about this list:

most of these fics are pretty popular in the fandom, so this list is more directed at new fans just joining the winterhawk paradise!! (there's a lot on here tho, so maybe you find one you haven't read yet)

mika/bee asked for little to no smut, so i'm not gonna rec any pwp works here (with a few exceptions). if you want smut recs, hmu tho, i got y'all

there's obviously still smut in many of these fics, but i tried to tell you if it's important/skippable or not. if you don't mind smut i obviously recommend reading it bc GOD these authors just know their shit, but i think nobody should miss out on the amazing long fics just bc they don't like smut :)

i put a "notes" section for every fic where i just yap about it and/or my feelings towards it for a bit bc i literally can't shut up about these two guys.

alright, i think that's all, let's go!! pls tell me if i messed up the links somwhere :)

50k+ words 

Lucky In Love by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~60k 

important tags: no powers AU, oh my god they were roommates!, friends to lovers, mutual pining 

notes: every time i give winterhawk recs to a new fan i start with lucky in love, bc even tho it’s an AU, it has soo many of the typical winterhawk tropes i love so much. PLUS: roomates. and lucky. and every chapter is titled “aw, [something], no” and i find that way too funny to not mention. idk it’s just one of that fics that gives me the warmest & fuzziest of warm fuzzy feelings and i think everyone should read it. 

smut: even tho it has the wonderful, wonderful tag “not gonna tag every sex act just trust me there’s plenty”, there’s actually not that many. in my opinion, the perfect amount for a 60k, 21 chapters winterhawk fic. it’s quite a slow-burn, so they’re only in the later chapters anyway, and the build up to it is soOoo good. this is one of the fics where i know exactly where to find the smut scenes so feel free to hmu. 

Like Real People Do by Kangofu_CB

words: ~67k 

important tags: “i actually just wanted to watch these two idiots fall in love in a secluded cabin ok”; civil war fix it 

notes: no one, NO ONE  gets me like this fic, it checks like every single one of my boxes. perfection. not lying when i say it’s my favorite fic of all time. it doesn’t have a special premise or anything, but that’s the good thing about it. it’s just so… cozy. comfy. feels like home. i can’t even remember if like real people do is my favorite hozier song because of this fic or if it’s my fav fic bc like real people do is my fav hozier song, but i know that i never cried as hard as i did when i heard lrpd live and could only think about this fic. nothing makes me feel as good as re-reading this story, i want to eat it.

smut: yes, but only like 2,5 scenes. hmu and i tell you the exact fucking paragraph number or smth, this fic is literally engraved in my soul. thank you CB. some day i’ll leave a 2k words comment on every single chapter. 

The Other Man out of Time by sara_holmes 

words: ~97k 

important tags: time travel, falling in love, clint barton centric 

notes: okay, objectively speaking: this is the best winterhawk fic in existence. not my absolute favorite bc it makes me cry too much, but definitely top 3. no other winterhawk fic made me sob this hard, no other winterhawk fic makes me wanna curl up on the floor and cry for an hour every time i think about it. that being said: IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING!!! and a lot of stuff in between is SO sweet as well. premise is basically: clint travels back in time and fights in wwii alongside bucky and they fall in love. and then bucky!canon happens. you get it? you get it. it’s- UGH it’s so good. jesus. i’m crying. 

smut: a few short sexy scenes i think, but no SMUT smut, and it’s definitely definitely DEFINITELY not the focus of the story. can’t emphasise enough how much everyone should read this 

Hipsters get Remembered, Legend’s Never Die by sara_holmes

words: ~90k 

important tags: millennial bucky barnes, awesome clint barton, recovery 

notes: millennial bucky is one of the most entertaining things fandom came up with, and this fic is the epitome of that trope. love love LOVE. plus, clint’s really fucking awesome in this. 

smut: yes, but only like two or three times in 11 chapters, easily skippable

Puzzle Pieces (series) by sara_holmes 

words: ~446k 

important tags: steve/tony, kid fic, emotional hurt

notes: if you don’t like stony this one isn’t for you, just skip to next one :) if you like stony: GOD pls read puzzle pieces!! the first 200k words fic is stony focused and has only pre-slash winterhawk, but even tho they don’t get together in this one yet it’s literally one of my favorite clint/bucky portrayals of all time, no one gets them like sara, it’s perfect. the stony/kid fic storyline is SO amazing as well, so if that’s your cup of tea, check. it. out. after that they’re a few longer winterhawk instalments, and while some of them are really angsty and painful, there’s always a happy ending. god i need to re-read this entire thing. it makes me wanna cry and throw up in all the good ways. 

smut: some, but you can definitely skip it.

I’ll keep you safe here with me by sara_holmes 

words: ~110k 

important tags: kidnapping, PTSD, mind control aftermath & recovery 

notes: ngl i haven’t read this one in a long time, but everything by sara is perfect and this one’s one of the most kudo’d winterhawk fics, so it’s basically a must read. everyone needs to read a good clint & the winter soldier fic at least once

smut: it’s rated mature, so no really explicit smut. can’t remember if they don’t get a bit horny tho.

A Heart Worth Loving by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~82k 

important tages: soulmate AU, no powers AU, modern bucky barnes, forced cohabitation 

notes: GOOD FUCKING SOUP. soulmate au AND they were roommates????? beat that. it takes them ages to figure out they’re soulmates, which makes this equally amazing and frustrating, but it’s all so so worth it 

smut: yes, at the end of it. you CAN skip it, although i recommend skimming through it and read the dialogue parts and stuff. 

if you were a mythical thing by Kangofu_CB

words: ~75k 

important tags: teachers au, kid fic, werewolves 

notes: quick story time for this one bc i remember it so so well lmao: winterhawk olympic bang 2022, most authors had started to post their fics except for CB and i KNEW she had written one, and i was literally checking my emails every hour for days. and then she finally posted it and i already started screaming when i saw the taylor lyrics as a title, and then i read those three tags and literally had to sit on my floor for 20 minutes to calm down bc i was so excited. i remember posting like 20 stories on my private insta that were just me keysmashing lmaoo. idk but teachers + kid fic + werewolves is just such a BONKERS combination, and i can promise you’re in for a treat, it’s so so fun. 15/10. 

smut: yes, but it takes some time to get there and it’s skippable

Adventures in dogsitting by Call_Me_Kayyyyy 

words: ~53k

important tags: friends to lovers, dogsitting, pining 

notes: another olympic bang fic, thank you. cute, fun, lots of lucky content :) good soup 

smut: NO SMUT

Under My skin (series) by finely honed 

words: ~360k

important tags: Steve/Tony (the “main” instalment is stony focused), PTSD, Life after the army, AU - Tattoo Parlour 

notes: the “first” instalment is a stony fic (one of my all time favs honestly) but with a lot of amazing side-winterhawk, and there’s a winterhawk spin-off, that’s a prequel to the stony arc, so you can just read that first if you want. it was one of the first english winterhawk fics i’ve ever read and it always makes me wanna cry when i think about it (in a good way).

smut: they’re quite horny in both big instalments, but i would say the smut is skippable. it’s not un-important for both the winterhawk and the stony dynamic tho, so i wouldn’t recommend doing that

This is Not a Date, it’s a Kidnapping by sara_holmes 

words: ~50k 

important tags: Fake Kidnapping, also real kidnapping, Bucky Barnes recovering, fake relationship 

notes: all sara_holmes is good sara_holmes, but this one’s one of my favs, it’s just so fun. GOD i miss winterhawk olympic bang 2021, this was such a blast to read when it first came out!! 

smut: NO SMUT

Freedom’s Reach by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~68k 

important tags: arranged marriage, western/historical AU, slow burn 

notes: aaaand another  winterhawk olympic bang 2021 fic! pretty sure this one was my fav during the bang, like i remember hitting up a friend of mine and screaming at each other for like an hour every time a new chapter dropped, we were SO invested. very good soup. 

smut: yes, but it’s a sloooow build, so it’s only in the later chapters. pretty sure it’s easily skippable 

ghost in the machine by squadrickchestopher

words: ~75k 

important tags: fake character death, heavy angst, ghosts, loneliness 

notes: UGHHHH clint “dies”, becomes a ghost and only bucky can see him. touch starved clint final boss basically. amazing shit. painful shit. (happy ending tho) 

smut: it’s rated explicit and it’s by squaddy, so i’m like 99% sure there’s smut, i actually can’t remember tho lmao 

Barton’s Halfway House for Ex-Brainwashed Assassins (series) by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~90k 

important tags: the slowest burn, the mcu reimagined completely, accidental baby acquisition, found family, kid fic

notes: this one’s an ongoing series, and it’s such an amazing one, you can feel all the love that’s been put into this. you have to go through like 60k of slow burn before winterhawk actually happens, but it’s soooo worth it. plus: kid fic. kid fic’s always good. 

smut: yes, but only in the 3rd part and the short pwp oneshot. easily skippable

something magic, something tragic by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~55k

important tags: supernatural elements, vampire bucky, enemies to lovers 

notes: VAMPIRES!!! that should be enough to convince you to read this fic!! and it’s by squaddy, it literally can’t be bad if it’s by squaddy.

smut: ughhh not entirely sure, pretty sure the mature rating is mostly for violence, but, again, it’s squaddy, so it’s very possible there’s some sexy stuff hiding in there.

Sweet Home Was Home by there_must_be_a_lock 

words: ~110k 

important tags: “i sorta made my own franken-canon”, christmas fluff, soft feelings

notes: i found this one on accident once when i wasn’t really expecting to find another PERFECT long ass winterhawk fic i haven’t read yet, and then i binge-read it in one night, and it’s honestly one of the best i’ve ever read, it’s so so soft and… healing. for both bucky and clint and myself. it’s really not as popular as it should be imo, definitely worthy of a place on the first page of the ship tag!! highly HIGHLY recommend checking it out!! 

smut: yes, but skippable 

10k - 50k words 

Starving for the Light by thepartyresponsible 

words: ~45k 

important tags: magic AU, soul bond 

notes: jesus christ i wanna eat this fic so bad. definitely my favorite 2021 winterhawk olympic bang fic, it’s just THAT good. need to re-read it entirely to make sure, but i think it’s in my top 10 if not top 5 fav winterhawk fics of all time. clint’s just so… beautiful in this, idk how else to describe it. and idk, it has a such a unique premise and setting, i love everything about it. 

smut: yes, but skippable. 

Historic Features by flawedamythyst

words: ~19k

important tags: ghosts AU, homophobic violence 

notes: oooohhh my god, don’t make me think about this fic i’m gonna cry. it’s actually pretty fun and cute and fucking awesome, but clint & bucky’s backstory in this?? i’m ugly crying, leave me alone. premise is basically: they’re ghosts and haunting the apartment they died in years ago, scaring everyone who tries to live there out of it. then steve and tony wanna move in. it’s fucking great. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Call It What You Want To by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~48k 

important tags: modern bucky barnes, sugar daddy

notes: clint becomes bucky’s sugar daddy on accident without realising and it’s the funniest fucking shit i’ve ever seen, god i love him so much. plus, again,,, millennial bucky barnes. gimme all the millennial bucky barnes.

smut: 3 or 4 scenes i think, starting as early as chapter… 2??? i think??? pretty skippable tho, as long as you read like the foreplay and everything.

A Thistle Cannot Grow by ccbytheseashore

words: ~12k 

important tags: kid fic, developing relationship 

notes: AHHHSDJGHSKJDHG. enough right?? i’m always a sucker for some good dad!clint & soft!bucky content. this one’s so so sweet it’s one of my main comfort fics, can’t recommend it enough if you love kid fics! 

smut: yes, but it’s literally only like 500 words of frotting, you know when it’s coming and you know when it’s over :) (it’s amazing tho) 

Attachments by Lissadiane 

words: ~22k 

important tags: high school au, mother hen bucky barnes, clint barton needs a hug 

notes: i KNOW many people don’t like high school AUs and i don’t fucking care. teenage winterhawk has so much potential, i love them to death. which is exactly why you should read this ;) 

smut: NO SMUT

Outnumbered by sara_holmes 

words: ~18k 

important tags: kid fic, triplets, no powers AU, bucky comes home to new york 

notes: another single dad clint fic, but give him 3 boys this time!! —> chaos. amazing chaos. + amazing bucky. good soup. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Once Lost (now found) by Teeelsie 

words: 40k 

important tags: hurt clint barton, on the run, self sacrifice 

notes: hurt clint barton final boss. this was written for whumptober, so you can imagine how bad it gets. SO worth it tho, even if you don’t really love that kind of stuff! 

smut: NO SMUT (pretty sure clint’s too hurt to have any kind of sexual thoughts <3 stupid stupid stubborn man. i love him so much)

The Best Worst Thing (that hasn’t happened to you yet) by sara_holmes

words: ~48k 

important tags: enemies to friends to lovers, rescue missions 

notes: if you’re into comic winterhawk and read their tales of suspense run, you should definitely read this fic. if you haven’t read tales of suspense, go do that now and then come back to the fic, bc it’s basically a rewrite that gives us the bucky/clint & nat dynamic we fucking deserve

smut: don’t think so?

skylines and tan lines by flawedamythyst

words: ~33k 

important tags: no powers AU, coronovirus lockdown, long distance flirting 

notes: this was literally my fav fic during lockdown, i’m not lying when i say i read this at least 20 times in 2020/21 lmaoo. it’s just such a fun concept; bucky’s living with peggy/steve, and their dynamic is so enjoyable. 

smut: there’s quite a bit of sexting & phone sex, plus a smut scene at the end. doesn’t take up the entire fic tho, and the rest is worth it as well. 

Behind Bars by sara_holmes and Behind Bares (On The Other Side Remix) by flawedamythyst 

words: ~32k (sara), ~25k (amy)

important tags: prison AU 

notes: sara’s fic is the original, amy remixed it and wrote if from clint’s pov (with quite some changes). i love both fics, but i definitely read the remix more often and prefer it, but i highly recommend reading both, they’re amazing!! clint & bucky are cell mates!!! and it’s angsty!! a little bit!! 

smut: can’t remember what it’s like in sara’s version, but it’s only rated mature soo... there’s definitely one or two smut scenes in amy’s fic, but easilyyy skippable, only like a few handjobs or smth i think.

What do you mean we left Clint on Mars? by sara_holmes 

words: ~25k 

important tags: outer space, falling in love, clint feels 

notes: a classic. falling in love long-distance is soo fun, and i love it when author’s touch-starve clint, so there’s that <3

smut: NO SMUT

A Christmas Miracle: Getting Lucky by Lissadiane

words: ~11k 

important tags: christams, hallmark fic 

notes: LUCKY!!!! i read this every single christmas. you should too. you’re welcome. 

smut: NO SMUT 

Dear Super-Secret Diary by flawedamythyst 

words: ~16k 

important tags: christmas fluff 

notes: clint is bored and gets a diary (and the guy). a christmas must-read, it’s fun and cute and fluffy!!! one of the few times i will accept first person narration bc, well, it’s a goddamn diary 

smut: NO SMUT 

winterhawk punks in love (series) by 1000_directions 

words: ~19k words 

important tags: punk au, amputee bucky, deaf clint, ptsd, emotional hurt/comfort, recovery 

notes: punk!winterhawk is so important to me I NEED MORE OF IT!!! this one’s such a perfect mix of happiness and angst and comfort UGH it just hits that spot. 

smut: yes, but the fic’s still amazing if u skip it 

Apple Of My Eye by flawedamythyst

words: ~40k 

important tags: clint barton’s farm, found family, domestic 

notes: FARM FIC FARM FIC FARM FIC!!! bucky, clint and wanda basically start an apple business on his farm, and it’s just soo comfy and awesome.

smut: NO SMUT

Alone in the Bitterness by Lissadiane

words: ~16k

important tags: no pwers au, nurse bucky, disaster clint 

notes: nurse bucky nurse bucky nurse bucky nurse bucky!!! do i have to say more?? 

smut: NO SMUT

Team Spirit by Noxnthea 

words: 17k 

important tags: case fic, enemies to lovers lite 

notes: noxnthea is such an underrated author it’s a literal crime. i normally don’t love case fics that much, but this is a ghost hunters case fic AND their banter is so fun that it really doesn’t matter for me this time 

smut: NO SMUT

Reach Out by Kangofu_CB

words: ~11k 

important tags: 5+1, a lot of sex tags, porn with feelings, feelings realisation 

notes: CB’s smut always hits different, and idk, the +1 of this is just sooo funny and adorable, i love it to death. read this more times than i’ll admit. 

smut: basically pwp, big no no if you don’t like smut. 

Storms Within (Bridges Rebuilt) by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~11k 

important tags: star wars setting, force sensitive bucky & clint, crack treated seriously 

notes: guys you can’t imagine my excitement when the notif for this fic popped up in my emails. luke skywalker is one of my top 10 all time fav fictional characters AND HERE HE IS INTERACTING W MY FAV BOYS IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!! it’s so so good, if you’re into star wars you’re gonna love it!! (even if not, it’s by CB, impossible to not enjoy)

smut: NO SMUT

Draw, Breathe, Fire by FestiveFerret

words: ~15k 

important tags: falling in love, flirting, banter 

notes: haven’t read this in a long time, but i’m pretty sure it was like a perfect little bucky-recovering-and-falling-in-love-with-clint-while-living-in-the-tower-fic. he learns archery!! pretty sure they also adopt a ferret or something???? good shit

smut: NO SMUT

Hoist a Black Flag by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~11k 

important tags: pirate au 

notes: ITS BASICALLY AN OFMD AU OKAY HOW CAN U NOT LOVE IT???

smut: yes, but skippable

Cupid’s Arrows by flawedamythyst 

words: ~14k 

important tags: office AU, valentine’s day 

notes: clint dressed up as cupid, bad pick up lines, shenanigans. haven’t read this in quite a while, but i remember i enjoyed it A LOT a few years ago and re-read it multiple times!! 

smut: NO SMUT

The Best Thing since a Double-Shot Expresso by sara_holmes 

words: ~11k 

important tags: coffee shop AU, misunderstandings, getting together 

notes: friends to lovers final boss. they’ve been best friends (husbands) for years and literally live together, and it takes them an insane amount of jealousy and steve’s ass to finally get together. such a fun read, highly HIGHLY recommend 

smut: NO SMUT

Habits of My Heart by Kangofu_CB

words: ~18k 

important tags: Fuckbuddies to Lovers, no powers AU, grindr 

notes: fuckbuddies to lovers with loads of pining will always be THE most realistic winterhawk depiction for me, sorry not sorry. this one’s extra fun bc steve and nat have been trying to set them up for months, but they’ve been already hooking up for months. it’s great. 

smut: yes, but easily skippable.

In Which Peter Is Everyone’s Favourite Avenger by DestroyedConscience 

words: ~25k 

important tags: Twitter, everyone is gay, gen z humor 

notes: look, this is an unfinished, non-winterhawk-centric twitter fic, but as a fellow winterhawk twitter fic author i just HAVE to recommend it. if u like this kind of thing, go check it out, it’s so fun :) 

smut: NO SMUT

Look What The Cat Dragged In by flawedamythyst

words: 22k 

important tags: Bucky Barnes is a cat lover, domestic fluff 

notes: i haven’t read this in years, but i KNOW it was great. at this point just go check out amy’s account and read all of her winterhawk fics, she has over a hundred and they’re all great!! but this one has them co-parenting alpine, so it’s extra great!!

smut: NO SMUT

My Heart Will Be Your Home by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~49k 

important tags: soulmates au, single parent clint barton

notes: soulmate au plus kid fic guys, i repeat, SOULMATE AU PLUS KID FIC GUYS!!! BY DR GIRLFRIEND!!!! GOD i miss winterhawk olympic bang 21/22 this one was such a blast to read when it first came out. 

smut: yes, but skippable 

Chrome Plated Heart by dr_girlfriend 

words: ~20k 

important tags: pacific rim fusion

notes: i’ve never seen pacific rim and i still had a blast reading this one!! (she put a basic explanation for it somewhere in the story notes, so dw about it!!). it was SO nice to read a fic where they’re not heavily traumatised and just have a chill, easy getting together. really sweet stuff

smut: NO SMUT!!

Know When To Hold ‘Em by flawedamythyst

words: ~11k 

important tags: exes to lovers, no powers au, cambling 

notes: UGHHH i need more fics like this one, it’s so so SO good!! flashes back and forth to the time when they were first together and when they meet again and skjdghlksdhg my heart just hurts so much for both of them. (happy ending tho dw, clint’s just so sad in the present and it hurts my soul)

smut: yeah, the part in the present is basically just one big smut scene but it’s soOoOoO emotional and i always love me some emotional smut

Christmas in Colour by mariana_oconnor 

words: ~12k 

important tags: soulmates see in colour, christmas fluff 

notes: SOULMATES SEE IN COLOUR !!!!! *swoons so hard she falls to the floor* top 3 best soulmates tropes i dont make the rules i love it so much. ESPECIALLY when it’s with a character like clint who usually has a colour he loves SO SO much. a christmas must read :) 

smut: NO SMUT

Chaos By Another Name by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~13k 

important tags: dimension travel, time travel, friends to lovers 

notes: DIMENSION-HOPPING TIME-TRAVEL ADVENTURE GUYS!!! why wouldn’t you wanna read it??? 

smut: yes

I Still Choose You (The Public Domain Remix) by mariana_oconnor 

words: ~14k 

important tags: soulmates at first kiss, fake/pretend relationship 

notes: have a fic with two of the best tropes ever, you’re so very welcome. plus plus PLUS: demisexual bucky. as a demisexual/asexual/still trying to figure it out lesbian, i’m always ALWAYS here for any kind of ace spectrum winterhawk, so yeah. 

smut: NO SMUT

the road rising up to meet me by veryrach

words: ~24k 

important tags: pining, sexual reawakening, chaotic slutty clint barton 

notes: MORE DEMISEXUAL BUCKY!!! AND HOT CLINT!!! no other words needed. read it. 

smut: i’m so sorry but i can’t remember if it gets SMUTTY smutty. but there’s definitely a lot of sexual themes i mean look at the tags lmao

Showdown by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~14k 

important tags: fake/pretend relationship; fluff 

notes: breaking my silence: fake dating might me my fav trope of all time. in this one they’re pretending to date for the sole purpose of annoying steve and tony and i think that’s the best thing ever. 

smut: NO SMUT

Light the Spark by dr_girlfriend

words: ~26k 

important tags: fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, enemies to friends to lovers

notes: aaaand the next fake dating fic >:) the enemies arc is like 0.2 seconds, blink and you miss it, but whoooo cares, we’re here for the fake dating & pining guys!!!

smut: yes, but you can skip it!

-10k words 

Wine and Pine by feathers_and_cigarettes 

words: 6k

Important tags: Touch-Starved, Fake Marriage, pining!clint 

Notes: this is one of those fics i always come back to without realising and it always hits that spot. like i said, fake dating is my favorite trope, and MISSION fake dating???? i'm in heaven

smut: there’s quite a bit of smut, but it’s at the end and even if you stop reading after they kiss it’s really worth it. 

Over Easy by Lissadiane

words: ~9k

important tags: hook up gone awry, awkwardly crashing the birth of a baby 

notes: need y’all to know that this has one of my all time fav smut scenes, i kinda know it by heart. don’t quote me on that, this is our secret. this one’s just so so SO much fun, i’m having the time of my life every time i read it (which is at least like once a month) 

smut: yes, and it’s kinda the best part, but everything else is so fun as well that i really wouldn’t wanna miss out on it

The Love You Deserve by flawedamythyst 

words: ~8k 

important tags: unhappy family holidays, homophobia, family issues, jewish bucky barnes 

notes: another must-read christmas fic for me; clint goes home for christmas to an uncle of his or something but they all turn out to be homophobic assholes or something and then bucky shows up to save the day <3

smut: NO SMUT 

what you really, really want by Noxnthea 

words: ~8k 

important tags: pining, misunderstandings 

notes: *blurts out* THEYVE BEEN IN LOVE FOR AGES AND THEN WANDA HEXES THEM SO THEY THINK THEVE BEEN DATING FOR YEARS!!! this is SUCH an underrated fic, it doesn’t even have 200 kudos like wtf??? SHOW IT SOME LOVE!!!

smut: NO SMUT

The 300 Club by Noxnthea 

words: ~10k 

important tags: no powers au, scientist clint & bucky 

notes: there aren’t enough scientist winterhawk AUs so HUGE THANKS noxnthea for feeding us. i will literally haunt you if you don’t read this one, ITS SO UNDERRATED!!! AND SO FUN!!

smut: NO SMUT

For Everything There is A Season by dr_girlfriend

words: ~9.7k 

important tags: crack fic, secret service agent!bucky, small business owner!clint barton 

notes: crack fics are always gold and this one especially, it’s such a ridiculous idea, how could you not love it? always a very fun read! 

smut: NO SMUT

Background Noise by Reremouse 

words: ~8k 

important tags: modern au, deaf clint barton 

notes: MILLENIAL BUCKY!!! clint is bucky’s upstairs neighbour and extremely loud bc he’s well… deaf. lol. and bucky’s a night shift worker which really isn’t a good combo on first thought. but on second thought, these are clint and bucky, so OBVIOUSLY they’re gonna make a great combo out of it. it’s fuckign amazing. plus bucky & sam friendship!! good shit guys, good shit.

smut: NO SMUT

you didn’t hear that by jedusaur 

words: ~2.6k 

important tags: roomates, eavesdropping 

notes: super self-indulgent rec, i always read this one when i need some cheering up lmao it’s just so fun and they’re kinda nasty and UGH. love. it explores the range of bucky’s super hearing. do with that what you want. 

smut: yes. it explores the range of bucky’s super hearing in every way ;)

one more time by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~4k 

important tags: touch starved, hurt clint barton 

notes: i don’t even know why i love this one so much, but it holds SUCH a special place in my heart. it might be my undying love for touch starved!clint who finally gets his well-needed hugs by bucky. there’s also an amazing podfic by flowerparrish for it, make sure to give kudso to them both!!! 

smut: NO SMUT

the salt on your lips by veryrach 

words: ~9k 

important tags: kissing, an absolutely ridiculous lack of communication 

notes: exactly what the tags say. it’s a 5+1 as well, WHAT ELSE DO YOU NEED IN LIFE???? 10/10. i remember waiting for months for the last few chapters and it was SO worth it!!

smut: NO SMUT

Love Potion No. 10 by Kangofu_CB 

words: ~8k 

important tags: love potion/spell, not actually unrequited love

notes: i won’t say anything about the story bc i don’t wanna spoiler it, but i’ll say that i re-read the second half of it at least once a month, it’s just THAT sweet. 

smut: NO SMUT

There’s No ‘I’ In Denial by flawedamythyst 

words: ~5k 

important tags: truth spells 

notes: clint gets hit by a magic truth gun and can’t lie anymore. such a fun & cute read every single time.

smut: NO SMUT

The Name of the Game by squadrickchestopher 

words: ~6k 

important tags: competition, trash talking, feelings realization 

notes: this one’s just so so fun, it has allllllll the winterhawk banter anyone could ask for. and i always love me some competitive idiots in love

smut: NO SMUT 

Full Barton by aw_writing_no 

words: ~6k 

important tags: no powers au, cop!bucky, human disaster clint 

notes: what the tags say. clint embarrassing himself in front of bucky who enjoys it a bit too much gotta be one of my fav tropes. 

smut: NO SMUT

one more little mistake by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~3k 

important tags: clint barton wears glasses, bucky barnes is horny for clint barton 

notes: these tags are basically the entire fic lmaooo. it’s great, i love nothing more than HOT HOT HOT clint barton and bucky realising how hot he is 

smut: almost lmao (they get interrupted while making out) 

my hands no longer an afterthought by shatteredhourglass 

words: ~3k 

important tags: getting back together 

notes: i have a sweet sweet SWEET spot for winterhawk getting back togethers if handled well, and this one handles it soo well. 

smut: NO SMUT

Five Lies People Believe About Clint and Bucky by EVVS 

words: ~1.5k 

important tags: established relationship 

notes: this is one of those fics i always go back to if i have a few minutes and need some (bitter)sweet fluff. it’s exactly what the title says, some lies are fun, some are painful, and all of them just hit that spot 

smut: NO SMUT

My Sausage Brings Alll the Boys To The Yard by flawedamythyst 

words: ~1.7k 

important tags: bad flirting 

notes: this one’s so stupid it probably shouldn’t be on here but i remember how i was reading this in class for the first time when i was still in school and i was almost pissing myself bc it made me laugh so hard. very fun, go read it >:(

smut: NO SMUT

bonus for the freaks:

Filthy Porn Fridays by squadrickchestopher 

there’s 18 works so far, it’s smut smut smut aaaand - you guessed it - smut. if you wanna see the boys fuck nastily, this is your place to be. 

(delicate tension is the best fic of the series, it’s actually a roadtrip AU and not just smut, highly highly recommend) 

alrightyyy, i think that's it for now :) this took me quite some time so i'd appreciate some reblogs or whatever!! we need to spread some winterhawk love guys!!

all my love goes out to every author i mentioned here, and every other author who's ever written winterhawk. you guys are my heroes, idk what i'd do without you. literally ripping my heart into a thousand pieces and giving every single one of you a tiny part 💜

[steviebbboi]

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

*you'll find all writing submissions and writing requests (answered) at the link above*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺️)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817

[leqonsluv3r]

liquid courage

infinite darkness!leon x f!reader

summary: reader worries about leon, she goes over to check on him. they end up drinking from there...and things get heated.

warnings/tags: MDNI, foul language, porn with (very little) plot, drunken behavior, mentions of alcohol, age gap (reader is 24, leon is 36 (my lore is probably wrong, dont kill me pls), dom!leon, sub!reader, unprotected pnv action (wrap or don't slap it), pet names (baby, babygirl), daddy!kink, oral (f recieving), praise, dirty talk, hickies and bruises, humping/grinding (reader literally cums in her underwear LOL). mentions of pain during seggs, and other foul stuff i forgot.

an: chat.ai got me all worked up, so here we are. sit back and enjoy pls and ty. also pls roblog <3 and lmk if u wanna be in my tag list.

You and Leon had a complicated "relationship".

He was your next-door neighbor in the loft building that had many, upon many units. He never rarely said anything to you ever, just occasional "hi's" and "hello's" in passing. Just to be polite, neighborly even.

There were times though when you would catch him looking at you as you went out in the hall to go somewhere, you two bumping into each other, he would scan your body...almost eye-fucking you.

Or maybe it was just in your imagination, you weren't ever sure.

Still, the thought of him fucking you for real...made your panties pool with want and need. If just his eyes could do that...you couldn't imagine what else you were missing out on.

You knew that he was always almost never home, probably working or something. You had your suspicions that maybe he was spending time at a girl's place or that he was occupying someone else's time.

You had barely said a word to the man, yet, that thought made you jealous and almost predatorily angry. Because you just knew, the way he walked and the way he carried himself...that he knew what he was doing.

He did have his moments, where he broke the silence. One day, he knocked on your door, holding a package out to you.

Not just any package...a vibrator.

Dear god, you wanted to coil up into a ball.

"I think this is yours..." he said, sticking out his large hand that held your sex toy. He didn't even look embarrassed...like you did. Cheeks all red and flustered, staring dumbly as he held out the package to you.

You couldn't stop staring at his hands, the one that held your package. The thoughts of what he could do to you with those hands made your pussy flutter, naughty images filling your brain.

You finally got words out, "Uh, y-yeah...that's mine." you reached out slowly and grabbed the package from him, your fingers brushing. Electric jolts to your body and the small contact. He smirked a little, eyeing you (like he would sometimes do), "Boyfriend not satisfying you?"

Holy fuck, you thought as you parted your lips a little.

"N-No boyfriend..." you nervously stutter out as you feel his eyes grazing your body. He hummed, nodding slowly, almost confirming his suspicions.

"Thats a shame..." he starts trailing off. "Pretty girl like you, should have a boyfriend." He said with a tilt of his lips, your eyes widened a little and you tried not to let a gasp escape your pink lips.

You didn't even say anything, not until he said bye and walked back next door to his apartment. You watched him go, trying to process the words that he had said to you...the way he looked at you.

God, his gaze, you felt so hot underneath it. Like a reptile under a heated lamp.

You closed the door and walked back into the threshold of your apartment, ripping the box to the vibrator open and charging it while you still had the pool between your thighs.

That's where your crush started...you whiny and moaning under your toy as you thought of him fucking you. It was almost pathetic, he didn't even know you existed, yet you were coming undone on your own accord at the thought of him.

"Daddy...please..." you moaned to yourself, chanting it like a mantra as you came fast. It was embarrassing, thrilling and fun but you felt like a naive little girl with a crush on a man you could never have.

After that, you tried to get yourself involved in anything involving him. You found that harder than actually planned so you decided that maybe looking him up would be a good idea.

Just to know a little more about him.

You typed his name into the search bar, a thousand results popped up but only one interested you. ROOKIE COP UNDER SIEGE you read. The rest of the article was basically outlining a strange occurrence in Raccoon City...involving a younger looking Leon.

It was his offical police issued picture that he took and... He looked...so small and just...innocent. The other picture in the article was of him...but he looked different.

His mouth was pressed in a firm line, jolting blue eyes looking straightforward at the camera, then...his eyes. His eyes didn't look hopeful and full of life like they were in the other one you saw.

They looked...like he had seen something, witnessed something truly awful and you had no idea what. The article states that the incident was unreported and handed over to the government.

'21 YEAR OLD COP' it read...and that was years ago...that meant...he was 36 by now. A lot older than you...

And my lord, did he age well. Even at 36 he still had his looks going for him...and you knew that the age gap between you both was large but...you still wanted him.

You closed your computer and leaned back on the couch, you couldn't even do much except wait for him to show up or "conveniently" bump into him out in the hallway.

So, you just had to sit back and wait, wait until you saw him again or until your curiosity got the better of you.

Turns out, time was definitely not in your favor, not one bit.

Days passed, weeks, and eventually a month...

You thought you were never going to see Leon again, ever, he was always working or never home. You just wanted to see him, so one day...after getting off the computer from working all day, you decided to go next door and knock.

No harm, no foul...right?

You had just convinced yourself that you were doing the neighborly thing and going to check in on him.

You got dressed into a lavender lace underwear set, sliding on your favorite sundress. You brushed your hair out...you even shaved. You weren't expecting anything to happen but you just wanted to be prepared...right?

So you nervously walked out your front door and went next door, each footstep felt heavy as you stepped towards the oak. You didn't know if you should knock or...ring his bell...

Both made you feel like your heart was about to beat right out of your chest and catapult into the sky.

"I wonder..." you reached your hand towards the doorhandle, twisting it a little. You expected it to be locked and you'd just have to knock to see if he was home but...it opened and you gasped.

You walked into the apartment, knocking on the door as you entered.

And what you saw...shocked you a little.

Leon was resting on the couch, nursing a drink, a ton of other bottles were littered on the coffee table in front of him. You had no idea how much he had actually consumed but you stepped in and softly closed the front door behind you.

It felt wrong to be here, witnessing him like this, but curiosity poked at you so you stepped further in, going towards the living room where he was sat. He didn't even acknowledge your presence until you came up to the opposite side of the couch.

"What do you want?" his voice was tired and deep, gravelly as if he had been up for days. But god, he looked so damn good and you hated yourself for how your eyes scanned his face as he said it.

"I-I just came to check on you, your front door was unlocked." you say softly, motioning to the door behind you. Leon didn't say anything, he took another sip of his whiskey. "Seems you took happy hour a little bit too literal..." you laugh nervously.

He tossed back the remaining liquor in his glass and lazily looked over at you with dark eyes, "And what if I did?" his voice was sharp, he seemed bothered that you were even there to begin with.

Which you understood, you basically just walked in unannounced into his apartment. But...you were glad that you showed up when you did. He did not look his best and judging by the bottles littered on the coffee table, he had been at this awhile.

"You shouldn't be drinking alone, just saying." you commented, sitting on the arm of the couch. Your eyes scanned him as you waited his response. He spoke after a beat of silence, "Why not?" he pours more liquor into his glass.

"I got my own problems...and they aren't yours." Leon followed up, tossing some of his hair out of his eyes. He held the glass in his hand, sloshing it around and sending a small glare to where you sat on the arm of his couch.

You decide to take the moral high ground and not argue with him, "Because I want to help but you're being a stubborn ass...so." you pop out your lips and carefully take a seat on the couch next to him.

He leans forward as he looks at you, "and why do you even care?" he harshly said, taking another small sip of whiskey. That was a question, why did you care? You've always cared about people, but you were too stubborn to admit that that to him.

"I don't..." you said slowly. "You have made it obvious that I don't need to care about you." you mutter, looking away from him and at all the bottles sitting on the table in front of you.

Reverse psychology, works everytime. You smirk to yourself.

He leans back onto the couch cushions, eyeing you, "So if you don't care..." He trails off. "Why are you still here?" he asks with a stern tone, no harshness but just. Curiosity.

Because I wanted to check on you...and I want you to bend me over the table and rail me. You thought with a shake of your head, you could not say that...god, you sounded insane and...horny.

You just settle for, "It's complicated." as you lean back onto the couch, the dress pooling around your thighs as you do. "I do care...maybe...a little." or a lot, your brain corrects.

He sets his glass down, leaning towards you. "Well, if you care about me, get me another damn drink." He was being playful with his words, but his eyes still pierced your skin, all dark.

Disappointment pooled a little in your stomach at that, "That's all? That's all you want?" you blink at him. "Just more...alcohol..." you didn't let the disappointment in your eyes falter a little.

He speaks up as you adjust a little on the couch, "What do want me to say?" he takes another swig from his almost empty glass, looking over at you. "I'm an alcoholic...you want me to apologize? To say I'll change? Cause you and me both know that's a load of crap." Hiis tone sharpens as he says that, he scrunches his face up, almost wincing at his words.

"...you going to get me that drink?" he asks, his tone suddenly 10x calmer than before. You swallow and get up from his couch, "Fine. Whatever, doesn't matter." you clear your throat before going over to where his alcohol is sat on the counter.

You grab a glass off of the drying rack by the sink, an idea forming in your head. If you were going to be bold, best to have some liquid courage. So, you grab the glass and the other bottle of whiskey on the counter.

Leon was leaning back against the cushions of the couch, his hand running through his brown hair. When you come back into the room, you unscrew the lid on the bottle, not even looking at him, pouring some whiskey into his glass.

He sees her set down a glass too, as she sits down on the couch beside him. "Hey, uh, thanks." He looks at the drink and then back at you. You smooth the fabric of your dress out against your thighs.

Leon clears his throat, "You know what, how about we drink together?" He reaches out and grabs his glass, motioning towards the empty one you brought out. "Go ahead."

You don't need to be asked twice, he had taken the bait...or maybe he had planned this but deep down you doubted it. You take the glass, filling it up a little bit with the amber liquid.

You sigh a little, leaning back on cushions, taking a sip of the burning liquor. "Thanks."

He looks at your glass that rests in between your hand, on top of your eyes before they flit back up to your face. "So..." he fills the silence with his voice as you look over at him. "...What is this 'complicated thing' you have to say to me?" He quirks a brow at you.

I want you to absolutely ruin me...

You take another sip of the liquid as you look away from him, "Nothing, s' stupid." you say quietly, mumbling into your glass. The alcohol was starting to take affect a little bit. The small sips you've had burned your throat, but they urged you to stay sitting next to him on the couch.

He pauses then shakes his head, "No no," He looks over into your eyes. You look up at him as he talks, "you can't start a conversation and then back out." Leon takes another sip of his drink as he says this, eyes boring into you. His tone being playful and stern.

You rake a hand through your hair, taking another sip of whiskey.

"I can't even entertain the idea because...i'm 24 and you're...older." You admit bravely with a blush covering your face, taking a large gulp of the whiskey, throwing it back all at once. You felt his eyes bore holes into you as your heart almost pounds right out of your chest.

Leon stares at you for a beat and then shakes his head, "So?" he pauses and then speaks through a sigh. "Just because we got an age gap doesn't mean anything...unless you think I'm still dating high school girls."

You gulp, reaching forward and pouring more whiskey into your glass, then leaning back as he continues. "You think I'd try making a move on you?" Leon's deep blue eyes bore into your head as he's scanning your features, trying to read your reaction.

You blink a couple times, a blush still covering your face as you take a swig of the whiskey. "S' a little more complicated than that, Leon." you breathe.

Calm down, he's not gonna pounce on you, you think. But you would probably like it anyways.

"Well then, do you want to tell me, 'What's more complicated than that' or just keep beating around the damn bush?" He keeps glancing from his drink to you. Your breath stutters as you bring the glass back up to your lips, drinking another small gulp.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was you being truly bold but the next words you said put everything into motion for the rest of the night.

You inhale another gulp of air, looking over at him, trying not to look him directly into the eyes as you said this. "Maybe I've...thought about...you making a move on me..." you swallow.

"...and I've not entirely hated the idea." you admit to him, the silence of the room stretched around you and him as you said the words.

He pauses, you can see it out of your prochiral vision. "...What?" he says. Leon glances back down at his drink, his dark brown hair moving with him before he looks back up at you.

Raising a brow, he asks, "You're into me?"

And you swear your stomach might just fall out of your ass, you take a swig of whiskey, slowly. Shifting a little bit, crossing your legs so the fabric moves a little on your thighs.

"Well when you put it like that..." you sigh, looking down at the glass in your lap. "I might be...yeah." you admit.

"But it doesn't matter. Your older and you just...your way more mature than me and I'm just some stupid little 24-year-old girl with a dumb crush." You surprisingly admit, tossing back more whiskey. Your sober thoughts had started to come out the more you consumed his liquor.

You down the rest of the glass, waiting for him to say something beside you. You wouldn't dare look at him, he was so beautiful and just...god, you wanted him inside of you...

He swigs down the rest of his glass like you did only moments earlier. Leon rests both arms on the couch and looking up at you. His eyes were locked on you.

"I want you to answer me, honestly." His voice is slow and serious, stern. Almost like a father disciplining you, the thought of him ordering you around like that...it made your pussy throb for him.

"Yeah?" you ask, waiting for him to ask you whatever he needs to.

He steadies himself as he looks at her, responding, "Do you honestly think this can work? For a guy like me to start something with a girl like you?" Leon takes another sip of his alcohol as he looks at you again.

You listen to him speak, desperation and disappointment pooling in your belly as he talks. "...I work for a secret government agency, that no one knows about, I do...unsavory things for the good of this country and for people. I'm not the kind of guy you want to get mixed up with." He says slowly, warning you.

The message is loud and clear to you: don't start something you can't finish, especially with me.

Challenge accepted, you think.

"I know what you've done Leon..." you bravely say, looking at him with innocent eyes. "I'm not some naive girl, I've done my research." You toss more of the whiskey back into your mouth as you say this.

He looks up at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, he was trying to understand why you were defending him heavily. Leon was trying to even understand why you were over here in the first place.

He grips his glass a little, you watch him do this as he speaks again, envious of the glass in his hand.

"Then you also know the risks of being with someone like me?" Leon looks at you, scanning your body, his gaze dark. You swallow and slowly raise your glass back up to your lips, taking another sip of your drink.

He got you there. you think as you try to come up with a response that doesn't make you sound needy or desperate, even though you were.

But he didn't need to know that.

You press your thighs together, his gaze making want pool in your panties. "A-And what would I be risking exactly?" you say softly, your innocent eyes looking at him.

Leon exhales, tossing back the rest of his glass before sitting it on the coffee table in front of him. "Everything." he mutters. He pinches his brow as he leans back on the couch.

"You're 24, a damn kid to me, and if you honestly think it'll be easy sailing with me then just think...about all the ways that it could go wrong." He closes his eyes with a sigh, not out of frustration but out of the risk he would be taking...just to be with you.

His eyes scan your face for understanding, "If something happens to you...then I'd be the one to blame. Do you understand?" You blink and sit your glass down on coffee table next to his, releasing a breath.

You lean back on the couch, your back meeting the large cushions, yet again, and the heaviness that his words carried sobered you up. He trusted you with his secret, he was trying to make sure you were serious...that you weren't going to go running off on him.

He worked for the government, he told you and you realized that in that moment, he was probably not allowed to share such information. Especially, with you.

You did realize the weight of his words, what he was saying and trying to get you to understand.

"I'm...not a little kid, I know what I'm doing." You sigh, playing with the hem of your sundress, not daring to meet his eyes that were watching you with skepticism...almost wonder.

Leon nods, silently, thinking as he looks at the empty glass next to hers on the coffee table. "Why me? Why not someone your own age? Someone that doesn't work for the D.S.O?" he queries you with curious eyes.

You take a stuttering breath, admitting the truth. "None of the guys my age..." you start, trying to not let the alcohol fail you now. "...make me feel the way that you do...I don't know why but..." you shake your head as your face flushes, your eyes flitting up to meet his.

His eyes widen a little, if you weren't watching him so closely, you probably wouldn't notice the subtle shift. His tone shifts as he speaks, breathing out some air.

You watch him as he processes what you just said, looks like he had been slapped in the face. You almost want to take back your words, forget the pool in your underwear and leave but...then he speaks.

"You feel something...?" He trails off.

"Like what kind of...?" and you just press your thighs together and look at him with desperation in your eyes.

"I want..." you swallow. "You."

He doesn't say anything for a minute as he looks at you. Leon was processing your words, his eyes trailing down to your thighs that are pressed together, which just confirmed his thoughts.

You wanted this.

"I feel the same way..." He says, looking away towards his lap. You gasp a little at his words, your nerves still on fire. The alcohol buzzing through your body, making you feel electric at his eyes on you.

"But..." you didn't like the 'But', they were never good when spoken by a man you wanted.

"...just know what your getting yourself into..." His eyes return to yours as you bite the inside of your cheek, confusion at what he meant.

Did he mean in bed or...? because you could handle it. Or you would try for him...anything he wanted you would do.

Shamelessly enough, it made you aroused at the thought of him ordering you around. God, you just wanted him inside of you.

"As in? What?" you innocently ask, a knot forming in your lower stomach at the question.

Leon presses his lips into a line again, his harsh tone almost a bite as he speaks to you this time. You couldn't tell if he was just really impatient with you or if this was just his regular nature towards people.

"I already told you." He grumbles, leaning forward a little bit, elbows on his knees. "I'm not a good guy, not some knight in shining armor."

He shifts a little at this, continuing, "I do bad things for this country. Things that no one should have to do." The agent looks up at you, his eyes somewhat vulnerable. "Can you handle the things that I do?"

You just nod, vigorously.

Even though the thought of him having to kill people, kill things that were probably behind your comprehension. It scared you. But that was just the career he chose; it was his life, and he was the one to live it.

Not you.

His eyes turn dark in an instant, "Can you handle that part of me?"

You would be dripping on the couch by now if it wasn't for your underwear. You knew what he meant but the way he was looking at you with curiosity in his eyes.

It made you want him even more, if that was even possible.

You take a stuttering breath, your nerves getting the best of you, yet again as your cheeks flush, "I mean...I've...not run away yet? Right?" you let out a nervous laugh at this.

"Gotta mean something..." you offer him a nervous smile.

It almost looks ridiculous in your head, the way you're smiling at him as he just looks at you almost no emotion on his face. His gaze serious and his eyes dark, made you feel foolish and small to him.

As if what you said or did, didn't make any difference in the slightest.

Leon stares at you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face, looking at your lips. The air is thick in the room, his breathing and yours taking up the sound.

Thats before he pulls you towards him, saying in an almost groan, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

You land on top of him almost as your legs go either side of his lap, straddling him. He has you close now, exactly where he wants you. His hands planted firmly on your hips, pulling your face close to his.

You could feel his breath against your lips, you grabbed onto his shoulders, keeping yourself steady. Removing one of his hands off of your hip, reaching up to trace the large pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. You part them only slightly.

"How do you want me to handle you?" He smirks a little, his words only echos in your ears. You were practically leaking, sitting on his lap lightly.

The want in his eyes, he would melt you into a puddle on the floor if he really wanted to.

As innocent and as sweet as you can muster, you say, "However you want..." The alcohol was making you bolder, pushing you to say and do things that would make more sober you, blush red.

He lightly pulls down your bottom lip with his thumb, "Good. Because..." he leans closer to you now, slowly dropping his thumb away from your mouth. "I wanna do this." he whispers, pressing his lips to yours.

You hum into the kiss, not even wasting any time as you kiss him back in a daze. His lips were soft, even softer than you imagined, they felt good against yours.

His tongue teases your lips, you let him in, now kissing more messily and frantically. You were starved and he was feeding you, giving exactly what your touch starved body, desired.

"Taste so good, baby." He mumbles in between kisses, that only spurs you on more, pressing a bruising kiss too his lips. Leon groans against the kiss pressing you directly on to his crotch.

You felt his erection as you whimpered into the kiss, carefully rolling your hips against it. He felt so big and he probably wasn't even fully hard yet.

"What? Feel good? You like grinding down on my dick?" He whispers, pulling his lips away from you and moving them down to your jaw. The foul words made your stomach coil, you nodded as you pressed your clothed entrance against it again.

"God, baby, so needy." He sucks at the skin on your neck, making your pussy throb at his words. You keep grinding down on his dick as he groaned against your neck. "Fuck." you heard him say as you kept rolling your hips over his clothed erection.

"Feels s'good." You whimper, your voice breaking in desperation.

"I know, babygirl, fuck..." He groans as your hips keep up their unrelenting pace. He holds onto your hips for dear life as he keeps sucking and nipping at your neck.

You feel that coil unwind, feel yourself become closer as you release a soft moan, filling the air. Your hands hold onto his head, gripping his hair. "Leon..." you moan, pressing yourself harder on his clothed dick.

"What do you want baby? You wanna cum? Wanna cum for me?" He growls into your ear as you keep up the pace, feeling your stomach bubble. You bite your lip and nod.

"Use your words for me." He orders. You whimper and keep going, trying to find the words without releasing a moan instead. "W-Wanna cum for you d-" you stop yourself as you moan. Your eyes almost going wide at the word that almost slipped out of your lips.

"What was that? Couldn't hear you sweetgirl?" he teases, licking the sensitive part of your neck. You whine again, so close to your release, he grips your hips, stopping you from moving.

You almost cry, feeling your release just barely in your grasp. "What did you say baby? Be a good girl and use your words for me." he growls, holding your chin in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

You bite your lip at his hungry gaze, "Daddy..." you mutter.

His eyes don't widen and if he's shocked, he doesn't show it. You expected him to kick you out and to never see him again as you muttered it.

But to your surprise he looks up at you with hunger. "You want to suck on Daddies cock?" He growls, as you gasp and nod at his words. Not expecting him to just fall into your kink so easily, most guys are embarrassed to have you call them that in bed.

Most guys weren't Leon.

"Okay, baby, go ahead. Show me how good you feel." He releases the grip on your hips, letting you continue to grind against his clothed erection.

"Mmmm, want you so bad, daddy." you whimper as you keep rolling your hips down, harder, your release slowly building again. The friction was making you leak, probably dripping onto his dark jeans.

He groans, watching as your hips move over his. "What do you want Baby? My fingers?"

You shake your head, close to cuming in your underwear. "Want your cock, daddy. Been...wanting it...forever." You say through a moan. Keeping your assault against his hips.

"How long?" he grunts, holding onto your hips tightly as you move them frantically.

You lean back your head in a moan, the coil unwinding again, "Since...I first...saw you." you admit in a daze, letting your hands grip his biceps, probably drawing blood.

"Fuck...baby, if I knew you would've wanted this sooner. I would've just given it to you." He bites his lip in a whimper, he was probably about to cum in his pants. You were almost there, barely, you just needed his words and his touch for the coil to finally break.

You admit another thing, to get his attention as your fucking yourself against him, "I fucked myself to the thought of you..."

"How? Your fingers or..." he trails off in lust as he remembers a month ago when delivered that package to your door. How flushed you were as he stood there, eyeing him, and how you bit your cheek at his words.

"You fucking little..." he trails off in a moan, you roll your hips harder. "Fucked my vibrator, pretended it was your cock..." you moan again, rolling your head forward onto his shoulder.

You were reaching it, fast, you could feel it.

"Gunna cum, daddy, gunna cum." You whimper fucking your hips faster against his clothed erection. He has gripped onto your hips letting you come undone on top of him.

"Cum for me, baby." He growls.

"More, say more, so close..." You whine, into his shoulder.

Leon kept you steady as you rocked, trying to talk you through your impending orgasm. "Going to fuck you so good. You'll be feeling...it for days." he said.

"Oh god, daddy, yes..." you reach your peak, cuming hard in your underwear, basically ruined and soaked in your juices now. He softly touches your face, moving hair back behind your ear as you ride out your high against his erection.

Leon is the one to speak first afterwards and your thankful. Worried that he would be thinking it was awkward for you to have come undone just by humping him.

"How do you feel, baby?" He asks, his voice low but sweet as he traces his thumb over your cheek.

"Felt good, felt really good." You mumble to him. You look down between you at the wet spot you left on his jeans. "I'm sorry..." You start, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

He shakes his head, looking at you gently, "It's okay. I can just wash them." He is still tracing his finger over your cheek as looks at you, you don't know what he is thinking but it makes you nervous not knowing.

"Did you really mean what you said?" you ask, trying not to seem shy under his gaze when you literally just came undone on top of him.

"About what, baby?" He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip again. You blink slowly trying not to seem desperate or whiny, you still wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you. The release on his lap only made it worse.

"Fucking me...until I can't...walk or something like that?" you ask, nerves overtaking you again as you gaze into his blue eyes. Feeling him still hard beneath you.

"You still not satisfied, babygirl? You need daddy's cock?" He teases with a smirk, watching as you shiver underneath him with nothing but his words and his soft touch.

You nod frantically, he moves his other hand up to tuck some hair back behind your ear. "Words, use your words." He sternly says and you recoil a little at his order.

Something bubbled in your belly, you didn't know if it was his authority or...what but jesus. You wanted to do anything he asked.

"Yes, daddy, I want your cock." you say sweetly, trying not to seem nervous under his gaze and his hands slowly lifting up your sundress. He licks his lips, looking at the dark spot on his jeans from your cum.

"You made a mess on daddy's lap, baby. You've been naughty, very naughty. I don't think I should let you have my cock." Leon teases, smirking as he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers.

His cock was uncomfortably hard beneath you, made your want pool in your lower stomach all over again. “Daddy, please.” you whimper, pathetically, trying to roll your hips again.

“Just want you inside me…” you whimper, trying to get more friction, anything or everything. You don’t care anymore.

"I'll take care of you, baby. I'll be good to you." You whimper at his words, trying not to wiggle anymore for friction. He carefully lays you down on the couch, on your back.

He leans up and presses a bruising kiss to her lips, his hand stroking her thigh, “Such a good girl for me.” He mumbles in between languid strokes of his tongue.

You want him everywhere, you don’t know how much long you can keep this up, he already made you cum once and that wasn’t even by his own accord.

He reaches down and carefully runs a finger up her soaked underwear, pressing a sloppy kiss to your jaw as he does. Your chest is rising and falling as he teases your already soaked panties.

“Baby, you’re underwear is soaked.” He lowly chuckles as he presses another kiss to your lips. You whimper in anticipation as he plays with the hem of your panties.

Leon leans back, he smirks, “Or is that because you drenched yourself once already?” He asks as he finally pulls the underwear down your legs.

You nod frantically, not sure if he was actually asking or just commenting on your current state of arousal. He slips a hand through your wet folds, causing you to shiver.

"Use your words, babygirl." He says as he just brushes his finger lightly across your clit, causing you to whimper. You look up into his dark blue eyes, "S' all for you, daddy." You say as he pushes your sundress up with his hand.

"All that just from grinding on my dick, sweetheart?" He tuts, running his hand down your stomach and too your aching cunt. You writhe under him with another frantic nod.

He tuts, "You dirty girl." Leon smirks as he teases your clit again with his fingers, running the pad of his thumb over the sensitive bud. You shiver and feel a wave of arousal at his thumb's movements.

You let out a small moan as he continues to stroke it. This seems to catch his attention. You were already so needy and sensitive from the orgasm moments before.

"You think you can take my fingers, baby?" He groans as he continues to stroke your clit, you feel another orgasm bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you nod, "Yes, daddy."

He complies, seeing that your answer was good enough to slip one finger into your tight and needy cunt. "Uhh! Daddy!" you moan, his fingers were much larger and thicker than you even imagined, stretching you out beyond your imagination.

"You like that? You like my fingers fucking into your tiny hole, baby?" He whispers dirtily into your ear as you let out another strangled moan.

"Yes...yes!" You whine as your orgasm slowly builds again, he's pumping his finger in and out of you at a faster rate now, your whines and moans echo through the large loft apartment.

Leon keeps flicking his thumb over your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you, you grip onto his bicep so hard you think you might draw blood, again.

"What if I just..." he says lowly as he removes his finger, quickly adding a second one. "...do this?" you practically moan out, it's pathetic really because it's not even his cock that's got you like this.

It's two of his fingers pumping in and out of your drenched hole, stretching you out and making you edge closer to the second orgasm.

"Daddy! Please don't stop! Feels s' good." You say, biting your lip, your back arching off the couch as he finger fucks you into oblivion. You babble more about his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"My cock is going to feel so good inside of you, sweetheart." He whispers into your ear, his words spurring you on as you feel your second release coming up. You release a pornographic moan as he curls his fingers.

"Please! Please! Please, daddy. Need you inside me so bad." you whine as you feel your second orgasm rapidly approaching. He presses more kisses into your neck as he groans.

"Gonna fuck your tight little hole so good, baby. You'll be feeling it for days." He rasps into the skin of your neck as he speeds the movement of his fingers, his thumb assaulting your clit.

His words making you clench against his fingers with trembling thighs, you grab harder onto his bicep as you reach your second release, "Fuck! I'm -- coming!" You pathetically moan.

"Good girl, drenching my fingers." He coos as he presses a featherlight kiss onto her jaw. He slowly works you down from your orgasm, slowing down his fingers as you finally catch your breath.

Your chest rises and falls, feeling like you just ran a marathon. Leon pulls his fingers out of you with a languid groan as he sits back, keeping eye contact with you.

Two drenched fingers rise as you look at them with a small whimper, he smirks a little before putting them into his mouth, sucking your release off of his fingers.

"Sweet, just as I thought." He softly says, leaning back over you, slotting himself between your hips. He braces himself on either side of your head as he presses his lips to yours.

You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue as he sloppily kisses and licks your lips, your arms chaining around his neck.

You sloppily make out for a few seconds, moaning and groaning from you both are the only sounds heard in the loft apartment. His clothed erection makes contact with your sensitive core again, making you clutch onto his lips tighter, whimpering.

"Please, I want...I want it." you say softly, begging him in a whine as you try to meet his erection that keeps brushing up against your clit.

Something dark gleams in Leon's eyes as he looks at you, seeing you all pathetic, whining underneath him for his cock. "Ask me, very nicely baby. Maybe I'll consider fucking you good." He says with an evil sort of grin as he teases her. He was going to fuck her anyways but teasing her was just part of the fun.

She whimpered as she looked up at him, "Don't make me."

Leon smirks down at her grabbing a hold on her chin, forcing her to look right into his eyes, blue and daring as he looks at her. "You'll ask nicely or not get anything at all." He says in a stern voice, holding onto her jaw with a strong hand. "Is that clear?"

Fuck. Me.

She feels her drenched core throb at his voice, so stern and demanding making her nod her head vigorously. "Yes, daddy." She says as she looks up at him, biting her lip.

He nods with a smirk, "good, now ask." He removes his hand from her chin, making sure her eyes are still locked on his. She swallows a little and tries to gain what's left of her breath to ask him.

The silence hangs as she utters the words, they both need to hear, "Please fuck me, daddy." she asks softly as she looks into his eyes. She didn't know how much longer she could last, the arousal was getting uncomfortable at this point.

Luckily, she wouldn't have to wait much longer, Leon's face spread into a mischievous smirk. "Good girl." He says with a small squeeze to her ass.

Woah, when did his hands get there? Fuck.

You practically mewl at his praise, he props himself up back up on his knees, still in between your thighs. You watch as he undoes his belt, pulling his pants down to reveal his hard on in his boxers. She whimpers and tries to grab for it to touch it, he moves her hand away.

"No, no. If you do that, I'll cum without you. Hands off." He says sternly and you nod at him, biting your lip as you obey him. "Sorry, Daddy." she says softly.

He smiles at you gently as he pushes his boxers down, his cock springing free. She swallows and looks from it to his face, practically drooling.

Holy shit, oh my god...

"It's okay baby, I'll give you what you want." He says as he caresses her face with his hand, you lean into the touch as he moves down to be on top of you again, his large cock brushing against your entrance causing you to whine pathetically.

"Oh, so whiny. Shhh, you'll get it. Be patient." He murmurs into your ear, hands resting on the couch pillow behind you. You had no choice but to wait, your hips bucked a little, trying to see past the teasing and desperately find some friction.

He reached down between you, grabbing his dick and running it through your wet and overstimulated pussy. "Daddy..." You find yourself whining again. He nudges the tip against your entrance, his large hand guiding it.

"Mmm, still so wet for me baby, good girl." He groaned into your ear as he let the tip nudge your opening and slip in a little. You moan softly, feeling the head of his cock in your pussy. "Please..." She whines, holding onto his bicep in a vice grip.

He chuckles in your ear, his voice soothing. "Okay, okay baby, no more teasing." He lets his hips move slowly inside of her, his dick stretching her out. The white heat burned but felt so good, your skin was on fire in the best way possible.

"Daddy." you whine as you bite down on your lip hard enough, your eyes squeezing shut as stars danced in your vision. She leaned her head back, lips parting in a silent scream. "So tight around me, fuck." He says in almost a low growl, nipping at your earlobe.

Your pussy would never be the same, he was sliding all the way in until the head of his dick hit your cervix. She whimpered and clawed at his arm, probably leaving scratch marks later, neither of them seemed to care right now.

He started moving his hips, hitting her deeper and deeper with each thrust. "God, yes. Fuck." He cursed into her ear as he fucked her hard and deep. "Daddy!" she moaned loudly, not even caring if the neighbors in the other loft apartments could hear them.

"So, fucking good, so good." He repeats into her ear, she clenches around him, feeling more arousal as his words spur her on more, her legs going to wrap around his hips, letting him go as deep and fast as he wants with her.

He takes the hint, slipping his hand under her dress, palming her tit over her bra. His hips moved faster as if he was a wild animal, hitting deep inside of her. She cries and whimpers around his cock as it hits that spot over and over.

"Daddy, daddy, mmm..." He was fucking the words right out of you. You couldn't even form any thoughts as he pounded into you. She felt something bubbling in her belly as he fucked her. She dug her fingernails into his skin, his face buried in her neck, licking and biting. "Daddy, not going to...last..." She whimpers as he presses a final bite to her neck.

He leans his head up to look at her as he pounds into her, she looks into his eyes, she sees how his face is scrunched up in pleasure as he pounds into you. "I know, you going to cum for daddy?" He asks in a small smirk, his face watching hers as she nods and starts to moan a little bit louder.

"Yes, gonna...gonna cum!" She moans out pathetically as he sees her whimpering and whining on his cock. He presses a bruising kiss to her lips, his hand holding onto her hips steadily as he keeps up his hips.

You moan into the kiss, letting him rail into her with no hesitation. "Cum for me baby." he whispers against her lips; she lets her eyes roll back as she finally releases on his cock. He groans as she cums around his cock, squeezing it and milking it with her pussy.

"Good girl, good girl." He says with a smirk as he continues fucking her through it to reach his own release. She whimpers and whines, holding onto him tighter and moaning. Eventually, he fills her up with his cum. He lets his hips stutter against hers, she lets her core tighten around his dick, sucking his cum in. "So good..."

He nods with a soft and simple smirk, leaning down to press a kiss against her lips. "You did good, very good." You feel yourself melt at him and his words as he pulls away, slipping out of you. You both moan softly at the loss, your eyes lazily falling shut.

His cum mixed with yours drips out of your stretched entrance, he tucks himself back in his boxers and pants, climbing off the couch. "Stay there, I'll clean you up." Leon says in a soft smile as he walks out of sight for a second before coming back with a washcloth and wiping your shared mess up.

The washcloth makes contact with her sensitive clit, causing her to jerk away a little. He puts a supportive hand on your knee, gently rubbing circles on it. "It's okay, shh." He says soothingly.

She nods at him dumbly, watching him with lazy eyes as he gets up and puts the washcloth in the laundry room, tossing it on the floor. He comes back and sits beside your open legs, he grabs your underwear, slipping them back over your legs, you lift your hips and let him cover your core completely.

"C'mere." He motions for you to move closer next to him, she gets up and weakly moves over, resting her head on his lap. Leon looks down at you, playing with your hair. "Feel better now?" He asks you simply, being gentle with his touches.

"Much better." you reply. And you think that you just might be.

[aggro-my-beloved]

《 ♡ Soulmate September Schedule ♡ 》

hello lovely fandom, @aggro-my-beloved here! i’m over the moon to announce that for the entire month of september i will be posting soulmate au centered fics featuring your favorite redacted pairings! some are canon, some are not…but all the works listed below are ones i’m proud to share. the plots and pairings will be listed below the cut. please interact by replying or reblogging this post, and let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of the following fics once they are

posted <3 (p.s. pls don’t let this flop)

all the following prompts are based on this post from my main blog, @buck-nialled

⑨.②.②④ ⇒ “Long In The Tooth” (LaskoxDear)

[lasko’s been eighteen for six years now, and frankly, he’s becoming sick of playing a juvenile. what makes his endeavor for a soulmate even more bewildering? they’re one of his students.]

❾.❹.❷❹ ⇒ “Trash Polka” (AsherxBabe)

[babe is tired of wearing hoodies in summer, and leggings in the spring. but their soulmate seems too caught up in his career to mind leaving little notes and drawings on their skin, rather than meeting up for a legitimate conversation. babe takes matters into their own hands, which soon won’t be covered by a mod-podge of their soulmate’s scribbles. at least, one can hope.]

⑨.⑥.②④ ⇒ “The Grey Area” (GuyxHoney)

[what’s more depressing than witnessing an amusement park in black and white? realizing it may be the last time you visit one, is probably what guy would answer, as he dangles upside down on Wonderworld’s “Surge” coaster. the pretty stranger next to him isn’t the worst company, though.]

❾.❽.❷❹ ⇒ “A Great Disservice” (DavidxAngel)

[david serves a dangerous line of work. and angel? they cat sit. still, both come home with cuts and scratches for the same reason.]

⑨.①⓪.②④ ⇒ “Rumination” (DamienxHuxley)

[a re-imagined dialogue to the elemental bois confessing their feelings.]

❾.❶❷.❷❹ ⇒ “Resigned/Sullen” (DavidxAsher)

[neither david nor asher have spoken post-inversion about the turmoil they experienced in the arena. not the scars that wouldn’t heal, not what caused them, and certainly not who kept asher from bleeding out on the ground.]

⑨.①④.②④ ⇒ “Pulsation” (Foolsverse!MiloxSweetheart)

[milo enjoys feeling his soulmate’s heart thump faster when he’s present. but only when he’s present.]

❾.❶❻.❷❹ ⇒ “Like and Unlike” (Davidxfem!Angel)

[angel thinks she’s finally found a cure for her crippling social anxiety at Dahlia’s local gym. but she cannot tell if david, the ill-tempered coach, will be the one to make or break her progress.]

⑨.①⑧.②④ ⇒ “Parting Song” (QuinnxDarlin’)

[when you’re standing next to who you think is your soulmate, as you watch the real one whither away in a shitty steel department chair—how do you respond?]

❾.❷⓪.❷❹ ⇒ “Battered and Bruised” (Samx Darlin’)

[so long as he doesn’t tell them, sam can keep up his act of healing darlin’ without suspicion. it’s magic, after all…]

⑨.②②.②④ ⇒ “Twin, Where Have You Been?” (MiloxSweetheart)

[“well, sweetheart. one of us is gonna have to change.” in which milo and his soulmate will forever be that couple.]

❾.❷❹.❷❹ ⇒ “Midnight Oil” (AaronxSmartass)

[the matchmaker test is the one exam nobody can study for. only fate will tell a person who they truly belong with. still, aaron attempts to pull an all nighter with his overly-charming classmate in an attempt to cheat the system.]

⑨.②⑥.②④ ⇒ “All Roads Lead To…” (DavidxDarlin’)

[david’s twelve years young and still leashed in red, wondering when he’ll meet the one on the other side of it, or if he even wants to. darlin’ is eleven years in, a hopeless romantic, and crossing the California state line when they notice their red string now has a little slack.]

❾.❷❽.❷❹ ⇒ “Change Your Tune” (GeordixCutie)

[cutie’s soulmate is the number one target on their shit list. because who on god’s green earth gets the tetris theme stuck in their head on a daily basis? well, they’re about to meet him...]

⑨.③⓪.②④ ⇒ “As If You’ll Live Forever” (ElliotxSunshine)

[the one thing more ironic than sunshine’s soulmate being a dreamwalker is how tired they’ve become of sleeping.]

[angel-of-the-moons]

Over The Phone

Dad Bod!Professor!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Just... NSFW. So much NSFW. Phone sex, masturbating, sexy selfies, sexting, all that shit.

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: God this took forever to churn out but I finally got motivation to finish it!!

Taglist: @cupcakeinat0r @tojishugetiddies (if I forgot to tag anybody let me know, pls! I lost the saved list I had for people alshldhd)

Divider by @/across-the-art-verse

Miguel art @ meeee

The day had dragged on for what felt like far longer than usual for him; the usual students who showed up late, tried to sneak out, slept through the lecture or just ignored whatever he said.

The students who listened and actively engaged with the lesson were few and far between, and the almost silent lull between classes felt felt almost too short. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered, especially with the growing list of students who were disinterested in his class, or those that only signed up for extra credit and didn't want to do the work...

But, getting cards and thank-you post-its from students who felt like they wouldn't have been able to graduate without him kept him on in this tedium. He loved to hear from his former students about how their new careers were going--careers they credit hi to helping them achieve.

It never failed to make his heart all warm and fuzzy when he thought about them.

Miguel ran his hand across his beard, and a thought came to him about maybe shaving it off. He had grown it out; rather rugged if he had to admit it. But, he quickly shook that thought away--you loved his beard. Oftentimes he would wake up from a nap, you snuggled perfectly against his solid frame, your nails dragging through the short hairs with a content smile on your face.

Oh, he couldn't say no to you, his pretty little wife, could he?

Speaking of which... it was your day off. He couldn't help but wonder what you were--

When his phone pinged, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and unlocks the screen to see a text from you;

Hiii baby, how's work going?

He chuckled and replied, Same as usual. Only two students slept through class this lime

*time

Your reply was swift.

Awww I'm sry :(

If it makes you feel any better, if I were in your class... wait. I wouldn't get any work done either. I'd just be lookin at you :p

He laughed, his belly shaking a little bit as he grinned at his screen, his massive fingers fumbling the small keys once again on the too-small phone screen.

Yes, you would mafe a very door student, wouldn't you, amor?

*made *poor

Miguel rolled his eyes. He was tempted to try and see if they didn't make phones built for someone with his giant hands in mind... Damn this tiny screen!

Awww my Miggy gettin all frustrated?

Yes.

For what felt like too long, his message was left on "read". He quirked a bushy brow, scratching at his beard curiously at what was keeping you.

And then, his phone pinged again.

Here, maybe this'll keep you entertained ;)

*Image attached. Click to view.*

He hummed in curiosity. Maybe it was one of those silly little doodles you liked to send to him? One of your memes, maybe? Though, it didn't make sense why the image was blurred, when--

His heart lurched up into his throat and he instantly slammed his phone against his desk, screen down; looking around pointlessly as if he were worried someone was standing over his shoulder when the image finally cleared.

Cursing himself for acting like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, Miguel slowly lifted his phone to his face and looked at the picture you'd sent him.

You were nude, laying belly-down in your bed, the blankets askew around you. Your feet crossed one over the other as you smiled at the lens--you must have moved the full body mirror from the living room to your bedroom to achieve this shot--and your back was arched slightly to show off your bare ass.

He felt his cock twitch to life as he examined every pixel on the screen; wishing so badly he were home right now, to touch that soft expanse of flesh he loved so much. To cup your ass in his palms, feeling the warmth of your skin in his palms as his fingers massaged and groped the skin.

He could feel your hands slide up the soft pouch of his belly, scraping your nails delectably through the short, curly dark hairs that ran up his abdomen and covered his chest. He could feel your teeth scrape and tug his nipple before kissing your way back down...

Dios, mi amor. You're lucky I am not in the middle of a meeting! He hastily typed, pretending he wasn't practically salivating over that selfie.

Aw, didn't you like what I sent? :'(

I didn't say--

But before he could finish typing and send the text, he got another attached image from you.

He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat and his thumb hovered over the image hesitantly. He looked towards the clock above the door to his classroom. He had half an hour left...

When the image unblurred, he felt his heart damn near stop.

You were perched on the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide; one hand was holding your phone while the others spread you slick folds with nimble fingers and a cheeky expression on your face.

How bout this one?

Miguel groaned, loudly. He actually slipped a hand over his plush lips, cringing at how damn near pathetic that sounded.

He immediately clicked your contact information and hit "call".

The phone rang a painfully long, droning tone until your bubbly voice giggled on the other end of the line, "Heyyyy Miggy~"

"You are going to kill me, baby." He hissed into his phone, pressing the heel of his palm into his throbbing erection, "I'm in the middle of a school day! The students are at lunch!"

"Ohhh, did I get you all hard and excited for me?" You sigh dreamily into the phone, your voice dropping into a more sultry tone.

"Naughty boy, popping a stiffy in the middle of class."

He grunted, his head dropping back against his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as he tugged the ends of his button-up out from his rapidly-tightening jeans, "And whose fault is that?"

You gasp theatrically, "Mine? Oh, baby, I was just trying to provide you moral support, I swear!"

"Of course," Miguel huffed, eyeing the doorknob, waiting to see if he was unlucky enough that somebody were to walk in right as he pulled his cock free from his jeans, running his fingers over the swollen tip, smearing his precum around it.

He could hear in your voice, the way you were biting your lip in excitement as you spoke. "Baby, are you touching yourself?"

"You tell me, first." He replied, his voice strained as he gave himself a few tentative strokes; trying to gauge if the risk was worth it.

"Oh? Want me to tell you that I'm playing with my pussy?" You croon. "That I'm imagining you, and me, in bed..."

His teeth snagged his plush bottom lip briefly as he sped his hand up to your words, then slowed back down again. The friction wasn't right; too dry. So, he sucked on his tongue until he had a nice glob of saliva; bringing his hand up to his mouth to wet it before slicking his throbbing length up.

"Go on." He grumbled into the line.

"...ooooh." You giggled, your voice a little breathless. He could see you now, laying back on the bed, your fingers plunging in and out of you, pulling out to stroke your puffy clit; your pussy drooling into the blankets beneath you.

"Mmmm~ I'm also imagining you on top of me, my legs on your shoulders..."

He felt the oxygen squeeze from his lungs as he upped his pace, the vein in his cock throbbing and thumping in time with his rapid heart rate.

"Yeah, bebita?"

"Yeah." You huff, a small moan coming from you; "'m imagining you pinnin' me down, fucking a baby into me."

"Dios." Miguel groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his fist. "You want a baby, hermosa? Want me to make you a mami?"

"Mhmm... want you to fill me aaaallllll the way up." You whined, your panting hot, even through the phone.

Miguel dared a glance up at the clock. Still had some time... He needed to do it quickly; needed to milk his cock so he wouldn't appear "improper" with a massive erection straining his pants.

As if enough of his female students (and even some of the male ones) didn't have enough difficulty paying attention in class...

He'd be lying if he hadn't gotten a few love confessions from students, present and former. He'd always politely turn them down, and then, if they were currently his pupils, politely and quietly have them sent to another class to avoid any improper behavior in the future.

It was as if none of them ever paid any mind to the gold band firmly secured to his ring finger--the matching mate to the one you wore on your own softer, delicate hand signifying your matrimonial bonds. Or... maybe they had and assumed they could tempt him from you.

Well, those assumptions were always wrong. The only person he could imagine bouncing on his cock, sucking it, milking it, stroking it--was you. You and only you.

Sometimes thinking of you when he was alone was the only ways he could get off, before you started dating. Even finding porn of a woman who looked like you wasn't enough. It had to be you.

And after the first time he felt your pretty pink pussy swallow his cock whole? Oh, he was addicted. Addicted and whipped, a few of his colleagues would say...

The professor and the school nurse; a bit of a cliche; but it was a nice one. The two of you had even played with a slutty nurse outfit or two.

You not always being the nurse...

"Fuck, Miggs, 'm so close." You whine loudly. He could see in his mind's eye how fast your fingers would be working your clit, maybe even giving in and plunging one of your silicone toys in and out of your tight hole for him.

In fact, he could imagine it so closely he could hear it.

"Shit, baby..." He hissed, his hand working his length furiously, now, almost in a race with you to see who would cum first. "You on speaker??"

"Mhmm~" You whine, your air leaving your body in wet-hot pants, the sound of your slick pussy being fucked--by your hand or your toy, he couldn't place--but the sound of it had his balls tightening up already.

"Gonna cum for me, mi amor?" Miguel huffed and puffed, more thick precum dribbling down from his tip. He smeared it over himself, using the fluid as lube to help hasten his impending orgasm.

"Yeah, baby~"

He snarled, the sound of stroking skin lewd and loud; your moans the best pornography his ears could ever be graced with.

"Cum for me, honey." Miguel whined, his glasses slipping further down his nose as he released his cock long enough to yank his shirt up over the soft, rounded edge of his tummy.

Immediately after, his hand returned once more around the thick pulsing shaft of him; stroking, tugging, milking himself like he knew your sweet cunt would. Your tight, wet, needy pussy that was dying for a drop of his cum.

As you wantonly moaned; he could imagine you splayed out in bed, legs wide and mouth open as you shout your orgasm out for him to hear, drowning out the outside world... and as his eyes would drift down, he could imagine your belly, cute and round; a baby kicking out at his hand as he caressed the stretched-out skin.

The image of you carrying his baby sent his mind into a blazing fire, the tightening in his balls and swelling of his cock too much to bear. Miguel arched his back, the wheels of his chair squeaking faintly across the floor as he curled his toes in his polished shoes, hot, thick ropes of cum shooting out to coat his belly, fingers, and even the underside of his desk; your name leaving his lips in a flurry of obscene prayers.

His mind was fuzzy as he slowly came down from his high, the sound of your giggle snapping him back to reality:

"See you when you get home, Miggy~"

The phone hangs up, and Miguel is left with his pearly white mess coating his belly, making his skin and hair sticky. At least he didn't get any on his shirt. This time.

The bell rang, suddenly, shaking him to full lucidity from his post-coital haze, his hairs standing on end and making him jolt up straight.

He hastily grabbed a few tissues from his desk drawer and began cleaning up, shoving a few stray stands of his graying hair back into place as he began to hear the chatter and footfall of students in the halls.

Oh, you would pay for this when you got home, all right.

[healmydesires]

enchanted (s.h) - teaser

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: prince!steve harrington x fem!servant reader

❥ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “You’ve been in love with the prince for god knows how long. For the longest time you were content with admiring him from afar, knowing your adoration for your favourite prince could never be revealed. Until one day, everything changed.” royal!au. childhood best friends to lovers. fools/idiots to lovers. forbidden romance.

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3,5k so far (it’s gonna be a big BOI)

⟶ A/N: I know for a fact that this will be a big fic. I have so many ideas that it’s driving me insane and I have to have this finished!!! NOW!!! anyways pls anticipate this fic with me 🫶

let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list or if you wanna ramble in my inbox about this with me! <3

You had worked at the palace of the kingdom Pagrarus for as long as you could remember. You knew every nook and cranny—every secret passage and hidden room in that palace. It was practically your home. You took care of it, making sure that it was clean and pretty every day. Your childhood wish was to work for the royal family, just like your parents did. Your family had served the royal family as maids and whatnot for generations, so it only made sense that you grew up around them, and subsequently, their child.

Steve Harrington.

You don’t regret it. Working for royalty.

In fact, if anything, you’re grateful. Because if not for your position now, how could have you crossed paths with a soul like him?

You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.

Such a sweet sweet day it was. The memory is still fresh in your mind, like the scent of your childhood room. A scent you never quite forgot. It faded over time, sure. But if you strained your memory even now, you can still smell it. The scent of comfort.

—

Decidedly, there have been many days in your life. Some happy, some sad. Some you remember better than others while others fade away into the back of your mind. Some are ingrained so deep in your mind that when you close your eyes, you can see every detail as if it’s currently happening. None, however, do you remember more clearly than the day you met Steve. It had been almost two decades ago; when you were five, and he was six.

You remember being nervous - your parents had brought you along to the castle, to introduce you to the royal family - you used to be a very lonely child, not being able to make friends easily. You were in awe as you walked through the luxurious castle with wide eyes, seeing it for the first time, it was truly a beautiful place.

As a reward for your family’s many generations of loyalty, they got the honour of working directly for the royal family. Your parents were close to the royal family despite that they were working for them. When you were very young, your mother was a personal attendant to the young prince.

It had all been incredibly overwhelming back then, and you’d only hidden further behind your mother’s legs. Until - you’d spotted a boy, looking just as lonely and nervous as you, also behind his mothers legs. The prince.

A fond smile curls on your face as you remember Steve’s little frame. With cute round cheeks, curious brown eyes, long brown hair, dressed in fine fabrics that were only made for royal people. He had sparked your curiosity, his intriguing eyes looking at you as if he longed for your friendship already.

Your parents pushed you into his direction, you’d approached him hesitantly. Immediately, he’d give you the brightest smile once you were in front of him. And that one action - that one smile - had sealed it between the two of you. Ever since then, Steve has been your best friend. He’d stick out his hand for you to take and would tug you along with him down the hall, showing you around the palace as you both giggled.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue mulling over your relationship with prince Steve. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - he has been your only constant.

And for as long as you could remember, you’ve had an intense and hopeless crush on the prince, Steve Harrington.

[unicorncornflakes]

Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 3

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Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5.4K

Aemond sat on his bed, tired from all that day. Meeting you again had exhausted him, why hadn't you gone to sleep before he arrived? He left the patch on the nightstand, as well as his phone. He sighed as he relaxed the tense muscles in his back. He cracked his knuckles and lay back, staring up at the ceiling in his room. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep. He continued to stare at the ceiling, lost in thoughts all alone. That huge house was completely silent... and you were only a couple of rooms away. He could go over there and apologize. Pretending that nothing was wrong with him when he saw you, that he didn't want to lean you against the first surface he found and fuck you… He could pretend. Just like you were doing. He remembered your legs just as you'd sat across from him on the kitchen island���they seemed soft…he imagined them wrapping around his hips as he pushed you again and again against the bed…he was sure you'd dig your nails into his back…that you'd scream his name as he continued to seek his libration within yours… he would cum inside you… the dragon seed inside you… Two Targaryens fucking, just as it should be…

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't contain himself any longer. Not having you so close, and it was the only thing he could think for not to go to your room and show you that he was Aemond Targaryen, a man of his own lineage. He had never been a man to be carried away by such low, base instincts… he hated himself as his hand caressed the growing bulge in his pants. He passed his hand over the cloth slowly, as if he wanted to provoke himself. He lowered his night pants just enough to free his cock. The bright red tip of precum greeted him. Can't resist what you feel, Targaryen? It almost seemed to be laughing at him. He sighed as he watched his cock bounce furiously against his stomach. It was even painful for him to see and feel like this. Had it ever happened to him? Had he ever been so turned on by the mere sight of pretty legs and pretty eyes? He didn't remember. He was so hard that it even hurt to start pumping himself hard, as if he wanted to end it quickly, as if it were another mechanical task, but it was a lie. He was a fucking liar. You were what he wanted, what he coveted, what he desired…he imagined it was you touching him like that…your eyes locked with his, bowing before him, while Aemond held his hands behind his head…that was your place, next to him. The feeling of belonging he had over you was strong as he continued to pump his hand fast… He imagined you blushing as he taught you to satisfy him… Gods, he was dying to do it… he felt close, very close, too close… you were still on his mind... you were beautiful... completely naked... he would buy you lingerie for the next one... you smiled at him... your lips painted that red lipstick he had given you last year... And then, a wave of pleasure quickly shook his stomach. His cock vibrated by itself while the white liquid stained his stomach and his sheets... He sighed heavily, whispered your name between his teeth.

And, after that brief moment of pleasure, he hated himself even more. Didn't he know how he was going to get you out of his head? The responsible adult, he wasn't so responsible anymore... You were driving him crazy, fucking crazy...

You had barely slept that night, and when you had finally managed to close your eyes and rest, someone knocked on your door. You rolled over in bed and tried to find the phone on the nightstand. You gave several slaps until you found him. It was eight o'clock in the morning. That's how It appearanced on the screen. Who the hell woke you up at eight in the morning on a Sunday of your summer vacation? You turned on yourself again and snuggled in again, although you didn't know it… you looked more like your father than you wanted to admit. He would have done the same. The door was knocked again and you sat on the edge of the bed, stretched out yawning, tired and exhausted, and went to the door.

"Good morning, (Y/N)" your grandmother greeted you with a smile and you tried to smile back, which ended in a yawn. Alicent looked you up and down "You should sleep with something more discreet" she told you without reprimanding you, and you didn't take it personally either. You knew she was so. Again something too short for her taste.

“I'll try, but it's hot…” you told her with a sleepy voice. Your grandmother smiled at you again. Although you knew that she thought you were more than wild in terms of manners, it could say. But, well, her first child wasn't that he had turned out too well either, so she wasn't trying to judge you too much. The thing about children in adolescence was now more graceful than before for her. "What did you need, Grandma?" you said scratching your eye, trying to hide the fact that you barely slept the night before.

“We said to go buy clothes today. I came looking for you to get ready”she said affectionately “Oh, and to come down for breakfast. Aemond is already awake, and I thought you would be excited to see him. You are always so close” she replied as she continued to smile. You knew that the only thing she wanted was for you to feel like one of the others, but... bringing up your uncle was not going to help you at all "Come on, get dressed"

You closed the door once she left. Who was getting ready so early to go to the mall? And why the hell did she wake you up to see your uncle? For you as if you didn't see him again in a thousand years. He was a assh... you looked at yourself in the mirror and you had an idea. Aemond would like to be a responsible adult, but he didn't know what woman he was messing with. You were going to show him what he was missing, even if you drove him crazy in the process. You were not going to be intimidated by Aemond Targaryen.

"Well, if they finally approve the regulations on the possession of weapons, we could be affected" Daeron took a sip of his coffee. Like every Sunday, he had gone to breakfast with Aemond. The one-eyed man didn't look at his brother; he only looked at the financial magazine in which the three of them appeared on the cover that month. The truth is that he even liked to read himself. The dragon has three heads... and one of them is an asshole. It was what he thought when reading some of the lines that had been dedicated to Aegon. He closed the magazine reluctantly at the words of his little brother.

"At the end, are they going to make me get into politics to have a return to the Status Quo?" He said looking at Daeron, his face always serious and unruffled. The lawyer just shrugged. Aemond opened his case and reached for a cigarette, which he lifted to his lips even though he was in the middle of his breakfast. He needed it. He had slept badly and Daeron was bothering him Sunday morning on top of it.

"You should stop smoking" Daeron commented, reaching for a piece of toast. Both sitting at that table in the garden, under a tree. Their mother found the location wonderful and they were not the ones to complain. Aemond ignored his brother's words. He hated when they told him what he had to do. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag on it.

"I thought... that with the latest strategies you were carrying out, we wouldn't have this problem," Aemond said, blowing smoke slowly through his nose, like the great dragon that he was. Sitting there, Daeron understood why of the three, the most successful with women was Aemond, much to Aegon's chagrin. He had a dark presence, a look that could inspire fear…and a bad boy halo that he had managed to maintain over the years.

"Aegon takes care of such things," Daeron said confidently, shrugging and fixing himself a piece of toast under Aemond's now watchful and angry gaze.

“Have you seriously let him take care of something like that?” He pronounced without losing an iota of composure, but inside he burned. How could Daeron leave such an important matter in the hands of his older brother?

“Aemond, you don't want to get splashed with things like that, and it was hard for me to have to be constantly at dinners and parties… Aegon is the one. Everyone loves him. Everyone thinks he's charming” the youngest confessed to him, as if he feared the wrath of his middle brother more than even that of any other being. “He loves to party, to be around women and people. Politicians and important people like that kind of people. If we're going to give gifts…it's better for the soul of the party to do it than the goblins of his brothers.” Aemond smiled at the euphemism Daeron used to talk about bribes. Well, it was clear that Aegon had a talent for partying and reveling at all times. It was the necessary evil of his corporate conglomerate.

"Well lately, seeing how the political proposals are, he's not doing well" he smiled, leaning back in his seat and looking superiorly at his brother. He took another drag, finishing his cigarette. "I hope I don't have to talk to him to see where all the money he spends goes" he stubbed out his cigarette and blew out smoke again. He didn't know what would be of his life without smoking.

“Alcohol and whores. That's where all the money he spends goes,” sighed Daeron, who was slapped on the head by Alicent just as they reached the table. Daeron hadn't seen it coming from her as he sat with his back to the door, and Aemond smirked at how he was always the one to get rid of everything. He would always feel like her favorite son, even if he knew he wasn't.

"Lenguage" said her mother, sitting between the two of them, in the place she always occupied among her children. She had acquired this habit since they were little, so they didn't fight. She kept doing it even though they had grown up. She didn't trust any of them.

"You look radiant, mother." Aemond smiled at her and Daeron rolled his eyes at his brother's pedantry. When it came to entertaining his mother, Aemond was always one step ahead of his brothers.

"Aemond, I'm not happy with you," Alicent sighed as Aemond poured her a glass of milk and coffee. He raised a questioning eyebrow and Daeron laughed cheekily.

"What have I done now?" He said leaving the jug of milk on the table, controlling the anger that existed within him. As if he could have done something to upset his mother? He went to get another cigarette when her mother took the case from him, as if she herself knew what he did to relax. He looked at her even more confused.

Alicent quickly placed herself in her chair, selecting the fruits she was going to have for breakfast just before sighing and starting to speak. "I don't know what time you arrived yesterday, Aemond, but you weren't here for her," she said in a cold tone. She locked her brown eyes on him and Aemond just looked away, lips pursed.

"Hmm" was all he did in response, fixing his purple eye on his mother again "(Y/N) should be his father's responsibility, not mine"

"Now you come to me with those when you've always been her biggest support here?" His mother snapped, mercilessly, just as if she would speak to Aegon. Daeron took out his phone and glanced at his messages, uncomfortable with the situation. Aemond looked straight ahead again, avoiding the cold eyes of his mother and that topic of conversation that he didn't like. "Look at me," Alicent ordered, as if he were Aegon. Aemond looked at her reluctantly. He had never liked taking orders. He was the one giving them now "Today you are going to take us to the mall, you are going to lunch with us and you are going to recover the relationship with (Y/N)" Aemond wanted to say something, but his mother only cut him off "Don't come at me with That girl is a Dayne, because she was a Targaryen to you until last summer."

"People change," Aemond replied with a shrug, largely relieved that his mother would throw his change in attitude towards you for just that. His heart beat again, as if for an instant he had believed that his mother could guess what was really happening with you in his mind.

"I don't care, Aemond," Alicent said, finally taking the first sip of her coffee. Aemond was about to speak when his eye detected you entering through the kitchen door... he remained silent, watching you arrive while the others greeted you animatedly. His eye surveyed you from top to bottom while you smiled radiantly at him... you were... you were a... was the only thing he thought when he saw you in that short white dress, almost sweet but again leaving too little to the imagination... he could almost see what kind of underwear did you wear… His mother hit him under the table, snapping him back to reality. He stood up and gave you two quick kisses on the cheeks, while his heart soared. However, he remained silent, stoic, like a predator before his prey.

"Uncle Aemond," you greeted sweetly, sounding almost naive. You knew what you were playing. He felt one of the corners of his mouth lift in a sneer. You were pretending you hadn't seen each other the night before. Very cunning, in the end you were even going to be a Targaryen...

"Niece" was all he said to go back to sit in his place, and you, as always, sat in front of him. Your eyes were looking at him with amusement, as if telling you what was going on with you only encouraged you to push him further into discomfort. Aemond finally saw his cigarette case out of his mother's grasp and lit another cigarette. He leaned back as he watched you from his seat. He took a slow drag, like he was savoring yourself, and you looked at him as suggestively as you could. Aemond realized just how dangerous the game you were playing was, but when you were there before him, he couldn't care one bit. "How was your flight?" he asked you again, and that's when you knew that at that moment he was going to play along with you for a moment.

"Fine" you said flirtatiously while your grandmother continued to prepare her breakfast and Daeron was still with his cell phone. It was almost like being alone again. Yet in that moment, you added something else to the conversation. Something you knew would drive your… uncle crazy. "I met Cregan Stark during the flight" you said biting your lower lip suggestively, slowly, as if you enjoyed it. Aemond gave an almost imperceptible start in his seat, but you noticed it. He took another drag, and your grandmother and Daeron almost seemed to return to the conversation once you said that name. But you knew what was going on in the head of your uncle favorite while you told it with that tone, you could feel how his dominance over you felt threatened, as if deep down inside himself he didn't believe that there could be more men than him at your point look.

"The old wolf" Aemond answered you, blowing smoke from his mouth. You kept looking at him, cheeky, as if you were indicating that he wasn't the only one. "I suppose it would bother you the whole trip, talking about how beautiful Winterfell is at any time of the year.” Aemond smiled, enunciating each syllable slowly, as if he was playing with you, as if you weren't his niece, just another woman.

"Not really. He was lovely,” you informed him, fluttering your lashes. You could see Aemond's superior smile and your uncle Daeron kept looking at you without understanding what was happening, while your grandmother was again lost in her thoughts “Uncle Daeron, he asked me to call him. He told me that he had business to discuss with you.” You smiled at your uncle, changing your tone completely for him, as if you were the little girl you really were. Daeron looked at Aemond.

"Doesn't sound right to me," Daeron said worriedly, now turning his attention back to Aemond, who shrugged, leaving his cigarette in the ashtray for a moment. "Wolves and dragons do not end well"

"He left the company for a reason, although he knows that without us he is nobody" commented Aemond with that condescending tone that he used for business, as if he were the true king of all that. "Call him tomorrow and let's see what he wants to offer us this time" Aemond looked at you again and took his cigarette again, as if he were appeasing the anxiety of not having you. "In the end you're going to make me earn money, niece" he thought you were a Targaryen, that you were pretty smart. Well, after all, he was the one who taught you, wasn't he? You should have learned something from him in the previous summers.

"He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him" you commented, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, serving you a glass of milk and not paying attention to him. Although deep down you knew he was dying inside. Aemond did not speak, just kept smoking. Now he was really upset. What the hell did a man like Cregan need from a girl like you? You were of noble blood, tall and fine, and the northerner a ragged… Aemond thought you deserved a man like himself, not a filthy wolf. He knew that Cregan only wanted the same thing that he did... And that perhaps now it was easier for him to get it. He felt jealous of that vermin.

"Gods, he's Aegon's age," your grandmother hissed at them in confusion and Daeron laughed at the indignation of his mother, who had now returned from her reverie.

"He might as well want you to be his fourth wife," Daeron laughed and Alicent looked at him with wide eyes.

"But she's a girl!" your grandmother exclaimed maddened. But no, you weren't anymore. And although you weren't looking at him, all your attention was focused on Aemond, who was now scrutinizing you in silence and stoic. You knew what you were producing in him... and you loved it... he, just like you, knew that you were already a woman...

"Only a monster would think of such a thing," Aemond uttered with confidence, but he knew he was a monster all the same then... if he was playing his cards right, he would remove any suspicion. He couldn't have you for himself, but just because he couldn't have you, it didn't mean others could. He was going to take a different approach to his strategy. You were not going to belong to anyone, because only he could deserve you, but not have you. He wanted you because you were like him. He was the one who had taught you and you had left yourself, but no... he couldn't conquer you. You were his dark desire... but you weren't going to be anyone else's.

You continued eating breakfast in silence, while your grandmother recited verses from the book of seven against carnal sin. You were amazed at the bizarreness of the scene. The poor woman of nerves while Daeron laughed and you and Aemond ogled each other. You blinked suggestively and he opened his lips, undressing you with his only eye. You were going to play with him, or he with you, but that you were going to play was something you were sure of, and you didn't plan to lose. You were no longer that girl who waited to be kissed. That was something you wanted.

"It's that you should cover up more, (Y/N)" your grandmother told you in a snort "It's a good thing Aemond is going to take us shopping today, for not having been at dinner yesterday" Alicent looked at him with a smile. Aemond continued to gaze at you in silence. Your grandmother went on talking about decorum in dress and how graceful and subtle a covered girl looked. You weren't going to judge her. She belonged to another era of which you had little or nothing to say. She hadn't even chosen her husband and she was content to have been a devoted woman all her life, but you weren't like that.

"Fantastic, Uncle Aemond," you whispered to him as your grandmother continued to talk about the propriety and innocence of youth. Aemond smiled as his eye remained on you. In the end, he was going to like it until you called him 'Uncle'.

After a moment of discussion, Aemond ended up driving himself to the mall. You went in the silver Ferrari that he just bought. Your grandmother had insisted that Cole be the one to drive the black Mercedes and take you, but your uncle then replied what was the point of him accompanying you. You couldn't complain. Your grandmother sat in one of the back seats because she got dizzy, according to her from how fast her middle son could drive, even though Aemond barely exceeded the speed limit when he was in town. So you sat in the co-driver seat, crossed your legs… And Aemond felt like a winner as he drove. For the first time, he had such a young and pretty woman in the passenger seat. He could understand what Cregan could see in someone like you. At that time, he was in a fantasy. But, like all fantasies, there comes a time when they explode.

"I see it as too short, (Y/N)" your grandmother commented while you looked at yourself in the mirror. You had just tried on a very short black dress that was tied at the neck and left the entire back exposed. For the rest, the fabric completely adjusted to you, you turned again in front of the mirror with a smile.

"I think it looks pretty good on me" you commented admiring your shapes in front of the mirror. Your grandmother, sitting in front of you in the spacious changing rooms of that luxury shopping center, wondered where you could have gotten a dress like that in a place so glamorous. "You do not like?" you asked cheerfully and boldly and Alicent sighed.

"I think you look very pretty..." she replied, without continuing to move from her seat "...but the reason for coming here was to find clothes a little less...provocative" she sighed in a whisper, afraid that the saleswomen who were hovering around her would hear you two. She didn't want to offend you, but the idea of her for you passed through something less showy and more appropriate to the purchasing power of your family. To be more of a girl from King's Landing and less of a Dornish woman from Starfall. You laughed to see your grandmother so puzzled.

"Everything is alright?" the store manager asked as she approached Alicent with an iced tea, just as Aemond had requested for his mother. He had asked that that expensive and luxury clothing store be closed just for you, and it had been done. Nobody denied anything to a man as important as him. That woman only attended to your grandmother and she almost seemed to ignore you. Your grandmother gracefully picked up the drink and gracefully tilted her head to speak to her.

“Could you bring a little more discreet dresses? And some skirts and some blouses? Anything a bit more…?” She started saying while you continued to look at yourself in the mirror.

"Yes, I understand what you are asking me" that woman replied while she looked you up and down with a worried face. It almost seemed as if everyone in that store was afraid that you would show your body, while you, thanks to the upbringing of your maternal family, saw it as natural. Why would you hide what you were? And even more so now that you knew the effect you had on him... Just as Alicent was going to speak again, Aemond came out of another of the fitting rooms with a new suit. He looked at his mother proudly and the tailor ran to take measurements for the little that needed to be fixed. You looked at him with a flirtatious smile. It seemed as if it was made for him. Aemond was a self-made man despite his family origins and now he enjoyed what life had rewarded him with. You liked to see him like this. That smile that he outlined almost seemed genuine. Then he turned to look at himself in the mirror and his gaze found you.

You saw how he smiled to himself while his purple eye devoured you in the silence, your reflection in the mirror. He stood next to you as he put on his new jacket. He knew it wasn't right, but, at that moment, he couldn't resist looking at you as if you were going to be his new acquisition, as if you were one of those girls who had always pounced on him. He felt how his blood was concentrating in the worst possible place and he cleared his throat as he turned his attention away from you, while you kept looking at yourself in the mirror.

"What do you think, mother?" he said turning around. He felt powerful. It was what he felt right at that moment, with you next to him. Almost as if you were his girl. What the hell was happening to him? This was wrong, but he felt so good that he couldn't stop smiling.

"It suits you very well, Aemond" Alicent replied with a loving look, as if she felt relieved to see her son so happy after the bad thing she had suffered after losing her eye. Aemond had always given everything for them and that is why after the death of her husband, it had been he who had inherited his position within the company. “I was talking to (Y / N) that she looks very pretty, but that she maybe needs to have something more discreet in her closet, right?” she attacked again.

"Don't you like how it looks on me, Uncle?" you said, pretending to be an innocent girl, and he wished to be without Alicent present, because he would have pounced on you and left you wearing that dress while… “Does this dress seem bad to you?”

"I like it..." he said smiling at you in an almost lascivious tone, in an almost whisper in your ear that made all your skin stand on end. When had you two lost so much of the north? "But... you should dress according to our family name, (Y / N)" he raised his voice for his mother to hear. He loved to see how the smile you had had up to that moment faltered and he felt powerful while he handled you at his will. You looked the other way.

"Just try on something that the woman brings you now, and you'll see how beautiful you are" your grandmother said while you went into the changing room to change. You looked at Aemond, who now remained stoic, as if this was not with him. His eyes, however, gleamed with a cruelty that told you he enjoyed your being at his mercy.

Aemond paid with his credit card while your grandmother continued to tell you about the beautiful and discreet outfits she had selected for you. The two of you had already left the store when Aemond, who was still paying and watching the clothes being packed, remained at the counter.

"When will you have the suit fixed?" he spoke proudly to the girl who was preparing everything. He saw again out of the corner of his eye that you were already both out of the boutique, in the direction of a bench where Alicent wanted to sit down to continue resting. You had sat next to her and looked at your phone while Alicent kept talking. He couldn't hear you but he knew from your face that your grandmother was giving you a lesson about modesty and decency. “I need it for next week”

"It will be there the day after tomorrow, Mr. Targaryen" the woman smiled at him. And then Aemond continued with his orders. It was what he was used to.

“The black dress the girl tried on,” he commented. He was not able to say 'my niece'. The way he felt now you were his girl. The clerk looked at him confused, as if she, like his mother, had already settled that issue. “Bring it and put it in a separate bag. I'll take it"

When Aemond left the store, carrying a larger bag and a much smaller one, you were still looking at your phone, although this time you were alone as always. Your grandmother had decided to go to the bathroom and she would surely get lost along the way, but she had insisted on going alone. She needed to continue feeling useful despite how everyone around her treated her. You didn't look up from the screen even when Aemond stepped in front of you, offering you a bag smaller than the one he was carrying. He had placed it in front of your eyes and he was swinging it as if it were a surprise or a prize.

"I liked how it looked on you, (Y/N)" he told you as if he were talking about the weather, but finally you saw the mischievous and cruel glint that was hiding behind his eye "Maybe... you can use it to walk around your room... where nobody can see you…” Where I can only see you and enjoy you, is what he wanted to add, but he preferred to seem like he was doing you a favor instead of giving you an order that turned him on a lot.

He was giving you that bag of dress as if he was giving you permission to wear it. This was happening because Aemond Targaryen allowed it. That was the message he wanted to give you. The new dynamic that he wanted to impose between you two. He was allowing it for his use and enjoyment. So you hit him where it hurt the most. He had ignored you until that moment, but you were not going to be intimidated by a few crumbs of affection. Either you had him complete or you didn't want him. So you spoke in a clear voice.

"Thank you, uncle Aemond" you said flirtatiously while you took the bag and looked at him with a mischievous smile. He smiled arrogantly, as if he was offering everything to you and you owe it to him. He liked feeling that way. "I'm sure Cregan will love it when he has to take it from me." You provoked him and Aemond stared at you in silence. His smile suddenly disappeared and you saw him breathe heavily. His dominance fantasy over you had exploded in his face, but that only made him say something to himself: he was the one who was going to emerge victorious from this process. You were going to be his even if he couldn't have you. You were going to bend to his will.

[amhrosina]

NSFW Alphabet (Frank Castle x Female Reader)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST

A/N: Requested! I love these. Pls send more character requests of these lmfao.

(Warnings: It's literally all NSFW lol, there's a daddy kink mentioned, frank spitting in your mouth???, size kink, public sex, remote-controlled vibrator, etc.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) 

When I tell you Frank Castle is the king of aftercare like don’t even get me STARTED!!!!!! 

okay but lets get started

Frank loves taking care of you after absolutely ruining you. 

After he makes you cum so hard you think you might cry, he’ll rub soothing circles into your skin, nuzzling his nose into your neck and bringing you down from your high. 

He knows your love language is touch, so he’ll hold your hand and kiss your palm until you can function again. 

He’ll run a warm washcloth over your sensitive areas and tuck you into his side, wrapping his protective arms around you.  

He’s your safe place, but you’re his safe place, too.  

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) 

Frank’s favorite part of your body is your thighs. 

Anytime you wear something a little short, his brain all but short circuits. 

He loves to bite and suck on them as foreplay. 

When you’re near him, even if it’s in public or completely inappropriate, his hands always end up touching your thighs.  

He’d gladly suffocate between them if you’d let him. 

His favorite part of himself are his hands. 

Wrapping them around your throat is his favorite pastime, but really anytime he gets to touch you, he’s happy.   

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) 

Frank loves watching his cum drip from your cunt after he fucks you into oblivion. 

He’ll swipe his finger on your sensitive pussy, gathering the cum and shoving it back inside of you. 

Sometimes when you’re planning on being out and about, he’ll cum in you as a little reminder that pools in your panties throughout the day. 

The idea of you walking around with his cum seeping out of you is enough to get him hard enough to fuck you again. 

You’re late to a lot of things because of this lmfao. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) 

Something that you learned pretty early on with Frank is that he’s obsessed with your underwear. 

When you go out to dinner, he’ll shoot you a look that has you hustling to the bathroom to remove your panties. He tucks them in his pocket and refuses to give them back until its laundry day.  

This happens whether it’s just you and him or if you’re out with a group. He doesn’t care lmfao. 

One time, you came home from work earlier than usual and caught him fucking into his hand, which held your panties from the night before.  

When he noticed your arrival, he didn’t stop thrusting into his hand. He just watched you watch him. You removed the panties you were wearing and handed them to him. He brought them to his face and inhaled deeply. 

You’re embarrassed to admit how incredibly turned on you were when he came into his hand, all over your favorite pair of blush pink underwear. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) 

Frank Castle is a sex god and I feel like that goes without saying. 

He’s a generous lover, offering you three, four, sometimes five orgasms before letting himself be pleasured in return. 

Frank is exceptional at reading your body language. If he switches what he’s doing with his tongue and notices a change in your demeanor, he’ll immediately go back to what he was doing before. 

He may have had sex with a lot of people, but he makes you feel like the only person in the world when he fucks you. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) 

Frank’s a traditional guy – he likes looking at you when he’s fucking you, but his absolute favorite position is doggy style. 

He goes absolutely crazy in this position; biting your shoulders, choking you, holding both of your arms behind you and holding you up as he pounds into you. 

This position gives him the deepest access and boy does he love it when he can feel your pussy fluttering around his entire cock. 

When he’s feeling less rough, he’ll hold you against him, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine and whispering dirty things in your ear. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) 

It’s hard to imagine Frank as anything but serious in any aspect of his life, but especially during sex. 

Even though sex is something he’s had plenty of, he takes it seriously when you open yourself up to him. 

He’s a man on a mission, and that mission is to make you cum as many times as possible. 

The only time Frank is able to completely let his guard down is when he’s buried deep inside of you, so there’s never a time where goofiness fits the energy in the room. 

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 

Frank doesn’t pay too close attention to this, but he likes to keep it neat and maintained for you. 

Just a simple trim, nothing too drastic, maybe once a week. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) 

Listen, Frank is a sex god, we’ve already covered that, but when he’s making love to someone he loves, it’s a whole different ballgame. 

After Maria’s death, Frank closed himself off to genuine romantic connections for a while, but when he met you, he couldn’t push it down anymore. 

You accept his vulnerability with grace, and his heart aches when you remind him of how much you love him when he’s buried deep inside of you. 

The genuine love he feels when he makes love to you was scary at first, but the warmth in your gaze and the soft caress of your hands calmed him down. 

Now, when he’s feeling sentimental, he fucks every ounce of love he can muster into you, whispering how much you mean to him in your ear. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) 

Usually, Frank doesn’t need to masturbate unless you’re out of town or something. Basically, he has the willpower to hold off until you come home from work, but if you’re traveling or separated from him for longer than 12 hours, the mere thought of you has him hard and aching in his pants. 

He’s a dude, though, so like tbh he could masturbate to the thought of you at any hour of the day if he really felt like it. 

If you send him dirty texts or pictures while he’s out patrolling Hell’s Kitchen, he has to physically stop himself from stroking himself off on some random rooftop. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) 

Do I really need to say it? Okay, fine.  

FRANK CASTLE HAS A DADDY KINK 

Also? Definitely a size kink. Frank’s a massive dude, and the idea of your body writhing underneath him sends him over the edge more often than he’d care to admit. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) 

Frank will take you literally anywhere at any time if you ask him to. 

Typically, the bedroom is where you end the night, but where you start is always a surprise. 

Bending you over every single thing in the apartment has become his new goal, but his favorites are the couch and the kitchen table. 

Something about fucking you on the table that you both eat dinner sends his hormones into overdrive. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) 

Frank is not a picky dude, so pretty much everything you do turns him on. 

One time, he walked into the kitchen as you were bent over, placing the lasagna you had prepared in the oven. 

He had lunged forward (after you had shut the oven door and it was safe obviously lol), ripping your shorts and underwear off and plunging into you. 

It literally doesn’t matter what you’re doing. 

Sometimes when he rolls over in bed after you’ve left for work and inhales the scent of your bodywash on the sheets, he gets so hard he ends up rutting into the mattress for some relief.  

He can’t help it. You’re hot, and he loves fucking you. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) 

Frank has spent the last decade of his life surrounded by violence, and you were the much-needed reprieve from that, so anything that has to do with hitting you is a no-go for him.  

He’ll spank you on your ass, but that’s about it. He will literally never lay a finger on your face unless it’s out of love. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) 

Say it with me: Frank Castle eats pussy like a man starved. 

If he could keep his head between your legs forever, he would do it in a heartbeat. 

He’ll literally beg you to ride his face sometimes. 

If you try to say you’re too heavy, he will physically pick you up and drop you on his face. If he suffocates, he’ll die a happy man. 

He likes getting head from you but prefers to be a giver in the bedroom.  

He’s not stupid though – when you’re feeling dominate, he gives up the control easily. 

He just thinks you look so pretty with your lips around his cock. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

This really depends on the mood, but typically Frank likes it slow and sensual.  

Don’t get me wrong, Frank is absolutely a fast and hard kind of guy, but with someone he loves, he likes to make it last as long as possible. 

Sometimes, he’ll hold himself still inside of you and get you off again, just to make the moment last just a little bit longer. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) 

Frank likes quickies but prefers to take the time to ravish you wholly.  

Like I mentioned before, it doesn’t take a lot to get him going when it comes to you, so quickies aren’t rare. 

He likes quickies out in public, at a party or in the bathroom of a bar if he’s feeling desperate.  

The fact that you’ve already removed your panties for him makes it all the more lustful. 

At Billy’s annual New Year’s Eve party, it’s common for you and Frank to go missing for 10 minutes at a time. 

All in all, Frank’s game for quickies, but likes it when he gets the time to fully satisfy your needs. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) 

Frank’s middle name is risk.  

He’s open to trying anything at least once, but usually it’s him that does all the risk taking in your relationship. 

For instance, when you’re out to dinner with a group and sitting next to each other, he makes it a game to see how close he can bring you to the edge before backing off. 

He’ll run his fingers up your thighs, hidden from sight, and start circling your clit while in the middle of a conversation about something completely random with someone else.  

When he feels you clench like you’re about to cum, he’ll readjust his position, removing his fingers from your body completely.  

You usually end up so aroused and horny by the end of the night that you can’t even bear the drive home before your clothes are off and Frank is pounding into you in the driver’s seat of his car. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) 

You guys already know this man is a god damned sex fiend. 

If he wills it, he can last for hours.  

Sometimes, even after four rounds and an insane number of orgasms, Frank will wake up in the middle of the night, ready to go again.  

There have been nights where you swear you were fucking more than you were sleeping. 

You have no idea where he gets the energy from, but he insists that you make him insatiable.  

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) 

Frank’s not really a toy guy, but he’s not opposed to using them on you.  

His favorite toy is (ofc) the remote-controlled vibrator he bought you to wear when you went out in public with him. 

There have been too many nights where Frank would overstimulate you in public, forcing you to stumble to the bathroom where you’d end up squirting all over the place.  

It’s not something that’s required for both of you to enjoy sex, but it definitely helps. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) 

Frank may be hardened on the outside, but he’s a big ‘ole softie for you.  

He tries to tease you, but the second the word ‘daddy’ is out of your mouth, he gives you anything you could possibly want. 

He does, however, like watching you writhe with overstimulation as he eats you out. 

You’ll beg him to fuck you, claiming you don’t have another orgasm in you, but he’ll tell you to be good and cum on his tongue again. You always do. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) 

Frank is a quiet lover. 

He’ll let out soft grunts or groans in your ear, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

He likes to whisper dirty things in your ear, telling you how good you’re being and how he loves the feeling of your wet pussy around his cock, but it’s never spoken at his regular tone. 

You offer Frank a quiet, vulnerable home inside of you, and he’s eternally grateful for that. Most of his life has been one loud crash after another, so he relishes the quieting of his brain when you’re around. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) 

The first time you asked Frank to spit in your mouth, he came so hard he saw stars for half an hour afterwards. 

This quickly became a regular occurrence lol. 

There’s something so raw and dirty about it that he can’t even think about it unless he’s planning on getting hard and fucking you into next week. 

Sometimes it’s slow and seductive, the anticipation intense enough to make you whine with impatience. 

Other times, when he’s in the mood to be rough, it’s a fast and hard spit onto your awaiting tongue.  

He can’t decide which he likes better. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 

Frank is packing. We all know this. I needn't say more. 

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) 

I feel like this has been established lol. 

This man wants you at all times, on every surface available, in every position he can think of.  

His appetite for you is insatiable, and after you give him permission to wake you up with his tongue on your clit, that becomes your regular alarm. He’ll never say no to the opportunity to shove his face between your legs.  

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

Frank’s able to sleep a little better after he meets you, but sex doesn’t usually put him to sleep.  

Once you’re all taken care of, wrapped up in the blankets and lying on his chest, he’ll softly run his fingers along your back until you’re in a deep sleep. 

This is his favorite thing to do with you, above everything else.  

Knowing you’re in his arms, protected from the dangers of the world, is enough to lull him off to sleep, even if it’s only for a little while. 

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen

[sushiwriterhere]

two: required texts

flight path

summary: "It takes your remaining sober thoughts to refocus on beer pong instead of how hard it hits you that you want Jake."  rating: mature (eventually explicit, 18+ mdni) pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader word count: ~6.9k lol warnings: angst, masturbation ment, enemies to lovers!, college au!, eventual smut, hangman being hangman, no use of y/n.  notes: dedicated to @waklman bc u entertain my insane dms <3 pls pls pls let me know what you think everyone!! masterlist here this fic is being posted from my queue while I have little access to the internet. any tag list requests/fic replies will be slow; thanks!

"Jake said you were coming to our party this Friday?" Bradley's smile is so genuine, so unlike everything about Jake, "Never thought you'd agree but it'll be good to see you."

Sometimes you regret making things so sour with Jake, because Bradley’s actually really sweet. He’s been letting you and Jake duke it out about your project at their breakfast bar counter while he cooks in the background. He’s kind of always on FaceTime with someone, usually a girl, and he even makes a mean chocolate chip cookie. Something about the flakey sea salt just does it.

Bradley is the kind of guy you think you might settle down with one day. Bradley doesn’t throw his hands up in the air at you in frustration when you argue about what exactly qualifies as sustainability, and he certainly does not make deals with you to try and get you to come to frat parties.

That being said, he looks so happy to hear that you might be joining them that you really don’t have the heart to knock him down. 

“Oh, yeah, Jake–” You consider your words carefully. 

Jake hadn’t explicitly said that the deal was to be kept hush-hush, but you didn’t really know how much you wanted people knowing that you were willing to trade your introvert lifestyle just to ensure a good grade. Plus, it felt just a smidge pathetic that that was what you’d caved to. 

“Jake told me he talked you into it in exchange for going with your lead on your project, but it doesn’t seem to really be working.” Bradley’s laugh fills the hallways of the lab and you feel yourself tense up. 

God, you really did get the short end of the stick if it was that obvious that Jake wasn’t holding up his end of the bargain at all. 

“Yeah... well...” You trail off, twisting your hands in front of you until someone calls you name at the end of the hallway.

Bradley looks at you, his gaze a little too knowing, before you both wave goodbye and you take off toward the sound of your supervisor’s voice. 

Running into Bradley is one thing, he’s nice and doesn’t make you want to poke your eyeballs out, getting to the end of the hallway to see Jake standing in front of your professor with an easy-going smile on his face is another. Fantastic.

“Mr. Seresin here was just telling me that the two of you have been hard at work,” Jake bounces his shoulders just a little behind your professor’s back, as if rubbing it in how much he’d obviously been talking himself up in the few seconds before, “I have high expectations for the two of you.”

You resist the urge to call him a dumbass in front of the man who’s probably going to single handedly get you into MIT, and school your features into something a little more school-appropriate. You are not going to let him screw this, especially this, up for you. 

“Of course, Professor Simmons, we’re certainly putting our all into it.” Jake mock gags behind the professor’s back for a split second before he turns around, and then he’s the picture of academic excellence.

Simmons wanders off in the way he usually does, leaving just you and Jake standing in the hallway. Distantly, you know that you’re technically on the clock, but you’re well-liked enough that you can get away with a little time theft. No one’s had any complaints on time sheet day so far.

Jake rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, smile ever present. For a moment, he looks a bit unsure of himself, but the expression is gone even quicker than it came.

“What are you doing in the labs, Jake. Don’t you have some other poor girl to harass?” You cross your arms and stare expectantly at him– you’d rather spend your stolen time reading the New Yorker on your phone and not dealing with Jake Seresin.

“Was just dropping by to chat with Simmons, you know how it is. Office hours, etcetera, etcetera.” He’s at ease once again, his gaze trained fully on you.

“Why did you say etc like that?”

“Did you just say ‘e-t-c’?”

For a moment there’s complete and entire silence, the type that happens right before exams are handed out. Then, Jake starts howling with laughter, completely doubled over. You watch in horror, listening to his voice echo around the sterile hallways and probably right into every professor’s office. 

Once he’s done completely humiliating you, he stands up and wipes at his eyes, “Sorry, you just—you were lecturing me the other day about ‘histrionics’ and you’ve never heard etcetera said aloud have you?”

You bristle, teeth gritted, “I’ll have you know, you can say it either way.” He doesn’t need to know, but you haven’t heard it aloud.

“Oh, I was also looking for you.” His abrupt change of subject makes you nervous. 

You and Jake have admittedly been spending a lot of time together. After your first few hours at the library, Jake’s been making a habit of being around you. Like, a lot.

First, he’s always sitting next to you in your shared classes. You’re only taking four, and sharing three of those is just a lot of Jake-time. He mostly leaves you alone, thankfully, but he’s taken to poking you to get your attention for his random thoughts, turning his computer your direction to show you a funny meme someone sent him, and occasionally reaching over to doodle on your notes. He also always uses your shared seat rest.

You don’t know why you let him do it. But, if you were brutally honest, it’s kind of nice having him around. Despite all your petty disagreements, Jake’s a bright personality, and it makes your stomach flip in a funny way when he spots you across the quad and waves wildly to get your attention, or when he buys you lunch before your library sessions. You do keep bickering about nearly everything though.

That’s the second thing. Now, after your two classes together on Mondays and Wednesdays, the two of you will go to the library and study til the wee hours of the morning. On more than one occasion, he’s bought you coffee to sustain your hours of staring at complex equations and trying to apply to grad schools. 

(“What grad school are you applying to now?” 

“Nunya.”

“Okay, unless the top fifteen rankings have been updated since the last time I checked there is no grad school that—“

“Nunya business.”

“Very funny. Real mature. You’re really childish y’know that.”

“I’m childish? Remind me which one of us spent eighty five dollars at a candy store last week after taking forty five minutes to decide.”

“There’s a lot of options!”)

You two don’t make a lot of conversation but it’s getting easier to talk to him like he’s a normal person, like he’s anyone else. You still keep your cards close to your chest, though, unready to let him in fully and still not entirely trusting him. 

Once, you’d shared a bit about how much pressure you felt to get into a top graduate program, to ensure that your parents were taken care of as an only child. Jake had been surprisingly empathetic, and had shared some about his home life, which you suspected wasn’t as idyllic as he made it seem, but it had made you smile. 

“Youngest, with four sisters, I was a little doll,” He’d laughed. He never talked about his parents, really.

It had been an odd moment of peace between the two of you until he had teased you for the way you read out an equation as you were checking your work, and then it was back to trading barbs.

The third thing is that he hadn’t invited you to a party til this week, about four into the semester. Before he had, it hung over your head like an anvil–ominous, always present, and not exactly forthcoming on when it was planning on crushing you like a bug. 

He’d been too nice about it, assuring you that whatever you wore would be fine (“Just think... slutty?” “Don’t be sexist, Jake.” “What! That’s what the sorority girls say.” “Well, are you a sorority girl?” “I can be if you want me to be, sweets.” “You have issues.”). He’d also said he’d keep an eye out on you but that his frat brothers were all great people, and besides, Bradley would be around. You don’t really want to share how it makes you feel that Bradley had asked you if you really were attending.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re coming on Friday.” His smile softens into something more genuine than his usual wild grin. “Was worried I might’ve scared you off.”

You huff, “I’m not scared.”

The way he looks at you in that moment makes you want to shove him so he’ll stop staring at you, a combination of pity and something else you’re afraid to identify, “No, not at all.”

Then, his demeanor changes back into something that’s a bit more familiar to you as he tucks his hands into his pockets and turns to leave, “Besides, if you don’t come, we’re doing our entiiiire project on Naval mechanics. Bye!”

He’s gone before you can yell at him.

-

This isn’t who you are–outfits strewn all over the floor of your room, music blaring from your phone where it’s charging in the corner, a layer of nervous sweat starting to coat your forehead and palms. Nothing fits right or in a way that doesn’t make you want to lose your mind. 

For a moment, you wish that you were a sorority girl, surrounded by women who know all the cultural rules of what you’re about to walk into. It’s not in a “I’m not like other girls” way, but more in a “my parties consist of wine and boardgames”. You are excited, but you also just feel stupid. 

You jump about half a foot in the air when your music cuts off all of a sudden and is replaced by the someone singing “save a horse, ride a cowboy” at far too many decibels. Scrambling, you grab your phone from the far side of your bed and see that it’s Jake trying to FaceTime.

“When did you change your ringtone?” Is the first thing you say when you pick up, endlessly irritated. “Your voice is terrible, by the way.”

Jake just laughs, “Oh, it absolutely is not. And you left your phone unlocked when you went to the bathroom two weeks ago, it was the only logical course of action. How have you not noticed til now?”

“I keep my phone on silent like a normal person.” You try to angle the camera so he can’t see the fact that you’re only in a sports bra and that you are absolutely not dressed despite the fact that you need to leave relatively soon.

“Again with this normal person thing, sweets,” He looks like he’s walking through the frat house as you hear people in the background, and you have half a mind to ask if Bradley’s around but decide against it. Something tells you Jake would be, well, weird about it. “You have got to be the least normal person I know, and that’s saying something.”

The absolutely unimpressed look on your face makes him laugh, and you almost hang up until you remember that he could potentially be helpful with your predicament. He wasn’t helpful last time but maybe this time he will be. He at least knows more about what girls are supposed to wear to this stuff.

“Jake...” You start, unsure of how to even ask. 

‘Oh hey Jake, how am I supposed to dress slutty for the frat party you cajoled me into going to because this is really out of my comfort zone and I’m this close to just telling you we can do your stupid Naval aircraft idea so that I don’t have to deal with this’ is a decidedly bad start.

“Sweets...” He croons back at you over the phone as he sets you down on a bathroom counter. 

It’s then that you realize that he’s been shirtless this entire time, and is still very much shirtless. Look, you may have a deep dislike for Jake Seresin as a person, but you’re not blind. You have eyes. And your eyes are telling you that Jake is absolutely so fucking fine that you have sort of forgotten your question. 

He’s absentmindedly applying shaving cream to his face and bustling around the bathroom while opening drawers and humming to himself. You remain silent. 

You just sort of stare at him for a few seconds before he raises an eyebrow at you. It’s then that you realize you’re holding your phone at an atrocious angle and you’re supposed to be asking him how to dress for this and showing him the insides of your nostrils is definitely not going to be doing you any favors.

“Sweets, did you have something you were going to say or are you just going to spend the next thirty minutes checking me out?” Jake says it so nonchalantly it almost makes you hang up, but you’re caught off guard by how something as simple as watching him shave on FaceTime can feel so endearing and domestic.

“Very funny. I was going to tell you you have something sticking out of your nose but I guess I won’t now.” You huff, hoping it’ll distract him from the last two minutes of silence.

At the very least, it works. Jake frantically tries to figure out what’s danging from his nose while you try and regroup. 

“I need your help picking an outfit.” It’s dramatic, but it feels like a weight off your chest to say it, “I just– Well, it’s just that nothing looks good and I hate this.”

Jake sets his razor down and leans close to his phone so you can see only his face and nothing else, “Lemme see what’cha got, sweets.”

The next twenty minutes are, somehow, not entirely excruciatingly painful. Jake immediately vetoes every single one of your business casual outfits (“You are not wearing slacks to a frat party, sweets, be serious.”) but he’s nice about it. When you dive deep into your closet to pull out a box of items you haven’t thought about since you bought them freshman year, you really start to reconsider how much you don’t want to work on Naval mechanics. 

“Okay, you can’t be mean, I bought these freshman year in a moment of weakness.” You can feel how hot your face is and you barely manage to get through the sentence without stammering or hanging up on him.

You lay out the tops on your bedding–Jake had already approved of a pair of jeans you hardly ever wore. These pieces are much more party-oriented than anything else you regularly wear, and you remember how for a weekend freshman year you’d felt so alienated, so weird, that you’d spent almost three-hundred dollars on going out tops. You’d returned most of them but the ones in front of you you’d kept in secret hope maybe you’d get to wear them. 

“You are a liar.” Jake’s voice comes softly from your phone and you frown.

“I literally just asked you to not be mean. You can’t even not be mean when—” 

“Sweets, any guy here would pass away at the sight of you in any of these,” He says and you make sure the camera isn’t on you so you can contort your face into a silent scream, “Talkin’ about, ‘I have nothing to wear’.”

“Drama queen.” It’s all you can say, but the thought of him passing away at the sight of you? That might be more appealing than you’d like to admit.

-

God, it’s so fucking loud in here. You managed to arrive fashionably late, as Jake advised. Now, you’re just sort of standing by the doorway, unsure of where to go or who to talk to. 

Then, all of a sudden, Jake appears next to you, all bright eyes and white teeth as he bobs along to the music. He grabs your arm and pulls you into an excessively tight hug, one that smooshes your face into his chest and traps your arms at your sides. You try not to breathe in too hard, but you can’t really avoid smelling him (like a fucking weirdo). You’re only slightly disappointed to note that Jake smells really good. 

“Sweets! I thought you’d bailed!” He exclaims, letting you go only slightly so he can take a look at your face. “When did you get here?”

“Um, like ten minutes ago?” You try and push out of his arms but he’s got a strong grip on you–glancing to the side you see that he’s grasped his elbows so you’re completely stuck.

“Only one hour and fifty minutes left to go!”

And with that, you’re being hauled off by one arm through the frat house. You stumble on your feet but manage to catch yourself on Jake when you trip over a beer can someone just threw on the ground. He turns around with a glint in his eye.

“Sweets, if you wanted to cuddle, you should’ve just said so!” His tone is gleeful, but he steadies you gently anyway.

“Just get me a drink, Jake.” 

He doesn’t let you go but this time his grip is gentler and he walks at a human pace instead of trying to make record time. After turning a few corners, you finally arrive in the kitchen.

You have to admit, you’re sort of jealous. Your apartment isn’t tiny by any means, but you’d love to have a kitchen this sprawling, with its huge windows, what looks like a state of the art fridge, and granite countertops the sheer square footage of which could make you drool. You feel a rush of disappointment at how dirty it is in here, but you squash it remembering that this is a frat house. Clean is nowhere near part of these men’s vocabulary. 

Jake makes you a drink that seems to be some odd combination of liquors and juices (he avoids the jungle juice thankfully, almost turning green when you ask him if you should try some–“Not unless you want to spend all of tomorrow throwing up.”). When he hands it to you, he looks at you expectantly, like a child who just gave their parent a crayon drawing.

“Well? What do you think?” You grimace on instinct when the liquid hits your tongue, but you realize it’s actually not that bad. 

You tell him as much. Maybe you’re already starting to get drunk because it’s the only explanation for the way you think the look on his face could persuade you to drink three hundred cups of this if it means having him smile at you like that again. You keep drinking to avoid spilling your guts, figuratively.

Jake makes himself a cup while yammering on about planning the party, how he took shots with his frat brothers before you got here, and how he has a brunch planned Sunday with a few of his frat brothers. It’s all a bit too close, too intimate to be honest. Even with everyone around you, even with the way he almost has to yell so you can hear, it feels like it’s just the two of you. It makes you want to flee, but you force yourself to stay put in an effort to at least try.

And it’s not actually terrible. You keep sipping on the drink Jake made you, and try to engage with him. 

He’s in the middle of telling you a story about him and Bradley from freshman year when one of his frat brothers walks up to the two of you with a wicked grin on his face. 

“Now who is this, Jake?” He’s terribly handsome, but something about the way he’s looking at you sets you on edge. 

“Javy, meet sweets.” Jake gestures at you with his perfectly iconic red solo cup.

You roll your eyes at the introduction, “That’s not my name.”

But Javy doesn’t let you correct the record, instead his entire face lights up. He looks like a kid on Christmas as he wraps an arm around Jake’s shoulders and looks between the two of you, a gleeful expression spreading over his face. 

“You are famous in this frat, I hope you know that.”

You prepare yourself for a snide remark about your attitude in class, about your reputation, but instead Javy leans in close, so close that you can see how perfect his skin is (what the hell?), and he whispers conspiratorially, “Jake here never shuts up about you.”

The whisper clearly isn’t meant to keep much secret and Jake obvious hears him because he shoves Javy off him and starts waving his hands at him to shoo him off. When he turns back around, he’s blushing and you don’t think it’s from the alcohol or the heat. 

“Talking shit?” You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow expectantly, not knowing what you’d do with any other explanations. 

“Something like that. Want more to drink?” 

He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, and he clearly doesn’t want you to remember this conversation either, because his next pour is overly generous. After that, he drags you out of the kitchen to ‘socialize’. He keeps you next to him, occasionally slinging an arm around your shoulders or even just leaning on you. 

Much to your dismay, Jake doesn’t let you wallflower, to disappear as you stand next to him–suddenly you’re being introduced to everyone in the frat. You grouse about being forced to remember a thousand different white men’s names and Jake’s laugh rises even above the din of the music and the chatter. You’re loath to admit it aloud, but it’s sort of nice, being included, being in on jokes and spoken to like you might have something funny or interesting to say.

Part of you wants to bring up what Javy said, because almost every guy that Jake introduces as being part of his frat smiles in the exact same way that Javy had. Like a cat who got the cream. But the alcohol is making your tongue heavy and you worry what might be said if you start down that path.

Then, you hear your name distantly, and you whip around to see Bradley making his way through the crowd waving wildly. Nearly missing elbowing some poor sorority girl in the head, he pushes past people. His face is flushed from drinking and the heat, and he’s got his phone pressed to his ear. Why he’s attempting to take a phone call in this type of environment, you’re really not sure.

When he gets to the both of you, he at least has the sense to hang up before he separates you from Jake when he sweeps you up into a bear hug that lifts your feet off the ground and crushes you to him. He seems so happy to see you, and you smile bashfully as you hug him back. 

Once your feet are back on the ground and Bradley’s released you, you notice how Jake has stiffened slightly beside you. He and Bradley engage in some long, complicated handshake that ends with jazz hands and eventually Bradley sweeps away in just the same way he came over. No words are exchanged, and Jake relaxes when Bradley’s out of sight.

“You’re being weird,” You accuse, leaning into Jake so you can get closer to his ear to be heard over the noise, “Well, you’re always weird, but you were being weird towards Bradley.”

“Was not.” Jake says haughtily, pouting lightly like a child. 

“You’re literally pouting right now.” You’re too tipsy to deal with him acting like you just took away his toy truck, and you poke his arm to emphasize your point. 

Jake immediately schools his expression before taking you by the arm and pulling you outside. His broad form clears the way for you and you do your best not to trip on any more beer cans. You two aren’t alone by any means, but here the sound has space to dissipate. There’s beer pong tables, a bonfire going (which, frankly, seems very unsafe), and people milling about. 

“Do you like Bradley?” The two of you are now standing off to the side of the sprawling deck behind the frat house, illuminated by a series of string lights that only seem slightly out of place for a frat house and Jake’s staring at you intently.

You shrug, “I mean, what’s not to like? It’s Bradley, I think we’re friends.” 

This is so awkward and you hate it with every fiber of your being.

He wrings his hands just a bit, and it strikes you that there’s a chance that he’s actually upset. It’s not the kind of annoyed that he always seems to take on when you two are going at it, it’s more genuine, like whatever he’s imagining might be enough to get him really worked up. He opens his mouth but then shuts it.

“Jake. What is wrong with me liking Bradley.” This is so ridiculous–standing in the backyard and trying to get Jake to talk about whatever issues he has or doesn’t with Bradley is probably almost as close to the opposite of socializing as just staying home would have been.

“You don’t like like him, though, right?” 

You roll your eyes and snap at him, “Jake, what is this, middle school?” He’s not calling you sweets, and when you notice, it bothers you just a tad more than you’d like to admit, “No, I like Bradley because he doesn’t yell at me when I correct his projections and he makes a mean chocolate chip cookie. He’s a friend.”

Everything about his demeanor changes in the oddest way when you say that, he peps up and it’s like the Jake that was pouty (jealous?) was never there, and he takes you by the hand, “Great! That’s solved then, let’s go play beer pong.”

You try to ignore the way you get emotional whiplash as he drags you over to the people standing around a folding table.

But you can’t help it. As Jake tries to teach you how to play beer pong you end up ruminating on whatever the hell that just was. Why would it bother Jake if you did “like like” Bradley? The two of you, you and Jake, could barely be classified as friends. Besides, as frat brothers, there’s no way both Jake and Bradley haven’t gotten around or even been with the same girl. No shame for anyone involved, but what’s his fucking deal? (And, Bradley’s a cutie, so what?) 

Eventually, you give up trying to figure out what Jake’s issue is as the two of you start losing at beer pong, and badly, given just how inebriated you are. Jake keeps trying to shout instructions every time you go to throw the ping pong ball and it keeps messing you up, so eventually you shove at him. He barely moves as he starts laughing at your anger.

“Jake! Stop messing me up!” You can feel how bad your coordination is from the alcohol as you stumble a bit as you lean your weight into him. “You’re making us lose!”

He can barely breathe through how hard he’s laughing at how far off your last shot had been, but he still steadies the both of you and wraps his arms around you, “Sweets you’re just too easy to mess up, oh my god. Are you even looking at the cups?”

You just hit his chest once as you start taking in the way that you’re pressed up against each other. He doesn’t let go of you. Instead, he just sort of lets you step back enough to have full control of your arms and continues standing at your side with his arms around your waist. Then, he starts leaning down to breathe instructions in your ear.

Normally you would find it in yourself complain about how gross having his breath in your ear is, but in that moment, already past tipsy and just enjoying the warmth of his body and skin against yours, all you can do is shiver. You fuck up your next shot worse than the last one. You hope it’s dark enough to cover how flustered you are as the patio lights glimmer weakly in the distance.

It takes your remaining sober thoughts to refocus on beer pong instead of how hard it hits you that you want Jake. 

It’s honestly the most fun you’ve had in a long, long, time and you lose yourself in it. Jake at your side, his arms wrapped around you, laughing loudly as you lose to team after team. He barely removes himself to make his shots. When he laughs it shakes your whole body. Every time he takes a step, he knocks your legs together so you move with him. 

You’ve continued drinking so you’re only getting progressively drunker and it only makes you focus on him more. You lose track of time completely and wholly.

Every time you turn to look at him or talk to him, Jake’s already looking at you. He keeps looking at your lips. In that moment, your rivalry, the project, and really, the entire world falls away. You have nothing to think about but how warm he is, how good he smells, and how you want to keep this moment in a jar so you can come back to it later. 

You think he might kiss you.

The moment breaks when you feel Jake’s phone start buzzing against your leg and he finally lets you go. In an instant, he takes a step back from you and his arms are gone. You didn’t realize just how much his body heat was keeping you warm in the cool evening air til he removes himself from you completely. You miss it immediately.

He steps off to the side, face completely impassive but frozen in a smile as he reads a text, and he starts typing furiously. The smile slides off your face as you think of all the girls in his phone who are probably waiting for his drunk “you up?” texts and you take a step back, putting more space between the two of you. Someone more important than you must want his attention.

“I, uh, I’ve got to go, sorry, sweets.” Jake says, but you don’t feel the apology as much as you do the rejection. It stings in the way a harsh winter wind burns at your cheeks, pricking your skin and raising the blood to your face.

Somewhere in your mind, you remember considering hooking up with someone tonight. That’s what people do, right? Get drunk, sleep with a stranger, then stumble home in last night’s outfit in the morning. And maybe somewhere along the way, maybe between drinks three and four, you’d thought about what it might be like to kiss Jake. At some point when you’d watched his eyes linger on your lips, you thought that was it.

You take a few steps back, trying to feel sober again, but swaying slightly without Jake to hold you, “Right.”

His face falls as he takes a step toward you, but the magic of the night is gone. There isn’t anyone standing on the opposite of the folding table anymore. The backyard is somehow too quiet despite the loudness coming from the house. Jake doesn’t reach for you when he sees the expression on your face. 

“I’ll uh, venmo you for the Uber.” His face betrays nothing but the cool indifference you remember from freshman year–are you really back to where you started after everything tonight?

Him offering to pay for you only makes you remember that you hate him–flirting with you all night then ditching you to go hook up with someone he actually likes. Classic Jake Seresin, everybody. 

-

You don’t care that he slept with someone else after how close the two of you were. You are deciding not to care. It does not bother you because you and Jake aren’t even friends, you are sworn enemies and the only reason you’re even going to these parties is so that you can ensure the project isn’t a flaming mess. 

You’re repeating these mantras to yourself from the moment you wake up, while you go to classes, while you avoid making eye contact with or speaking to Jake for fear he’ll know. You say it to yourself as you sit silently across from him in the library, headphones firmly over your ears so you don’t have to hear him ask if you want coffee. 

He brings you one anyway.

It’s clear that you are utterly failing to convince yourself, because all you can think about is how close he was, how the heat radiated off his body, how he smelled, and how his eyes flitted down to your lips ever so often. You feel like you want to crawl out of your own skin with the realization that you want Jake to want you. You’ve sort of always wanted his attention, it’s just that up until now it’s almost entirely been in the form of your little rivalry.

You find yourself scoffing as a thought comes to the forefront of your mind, It’s like in those romance novels. That shit does not happen to people like you.

The shame and desire washing through you reaches its peak when you find yourself biting into your fist with your hand between your legs a week after the party. All you can think about is how he’d smelled, how close he’d been to you, and the way his hands felt around your waist. You finish with a whine tearing itself from your chest and a deep sort of mortification coursing through your veins.

You can’t avoid him forever though, the work must go on. 

The thought of attraction goes as quickly as it comes when you find yourself sitting across from him at his and Bradley’s kitchen table again, the two of you bickering about a piece of analysis.

“Why do you refuse to listen to me, even the slightest bit, sweets? I’m literally second in our class, I can’t be an absolute idiot.” Jake looks at the ceiling as if some supernatural being will give him the strength to deal with you, and sighs heavily.

You clench your fists, “I’m not refusing to listen to you, Jake, I’m just telling you that you’re wrong.” You don’t remind him you’re first in the class.

Bradley walks in the kitchen, phone held casually in front of his face, a bag of chips grasped in his other hand. He stops to observe the two of you still arguing, now going on about a quiz question you two had disagreed on first semester sophomore year. He could be surprised that you and Jake have found something else to argue about, but then again Jake told him the two of you spent almost three straight hours arguing your first time together at the library. He’s also been witness to countless pointless fights about god knows what since the beginning of the semester.

“Can you two just fuck already, good god.” 

The room goes so quiet the only thing you can hear in your ears is your own heartbeat. Jake looks similarly mortified, cheeks turning red as he tucks his head to the side in clear embarrassment. The tips of his ears are bright red. 

Bradley, unaware of the absolute nuclear bomb that he just dropped, tucks his chips into the pantry, and leaves as the FaceTime call sound starts trilling from his phone. 

Neither you or Jake move. All you can think about is how you felt in that moment last Friday, Jake pressed up against you, his breath heavy in your ear, and his body solid and warm against you. You think about the way want had coursed through your veins when you’d been alone. But he doesn’t want you. His current reaction is evidence enough.

Jake’s the one to break the silence by muttering something under his breath. 

“What?” 

“I said, he’s one to talk.” He clears his throat and avoids eye contact.

You can’t take this, so you try to laugh a bit, but it sounds fake and tinny in your ears, “And I don’t know what he’s talking about. In case everyone’s lost their minds and forgotten, I do not like you, Jake Seresin.”

He laughs lightly in response and says, “People don’t use contractions when they’re lying.”

And you don’t really know what to say to that. Because you don’t really know if there is anything to say. So you decide not to say anything to that, at all.

“You still owe me twenty five dollars for the Uber.”

“Twenty five—“ Jake sputters, “Twenty five American dollars? Where the hell did you have him take you? Downtown and back!? You live twelve minutes from the house!”

“I tipped well.”

Jake mutters something about tipping culture being out of control but you still feel the way your phone buzzes so hard it rattles some pens strewn across the table.

-

When the second invite comes, you decide preemptively that you’re not going to drink. Your deal with Jake was about attending and staying for two hours, it said absolutely nothing about drinking or generally partaking in party activities. You don’t want a repeat of last time–you want the arousal that spikes your bloodstream every time you see his face to disappear as quickly as it came.

You’re avoiding Jake in the frat house by ducking into doorways and keeping an eye out for a blonde head of hair the best you can. At one point, Bradley spots you and sends a confused look your way, clearly scanning for Jake. He doesn’t do anything about it, you guess, because Jake doesn’t come running within the next ten minutes. 

Keeping yourself pressed to the wall where the music isn’t so loud but you also can’t hear the way people are very obviously doing drugs in the bathroom, you count down the minutes til you can leave. 

About five minutes before, you decide to sneak a peek in the kitchen one last time. Maybe you can rob these assholes of some Oreos or something as divine punishment–revenge of the nerds, or whatever.

When you get to the kitchen, you realize you’ve found Jake. His back is to you, and he seems to be holding court. Surrounding him is a group of frat brothers most of whom you don’t remember, with the exception of Javy, who’s leaning his elbows on the countertop and listening about as intently as a drunk person can. 

“She’s fucking stuck up man, I don’t know how you do it. I don’t think being that obnoxious is a requirement to be top of the class.” One of the frat brothers that usually surrounds Jake scoffs. 

You feel all the blood drain from your face and you suddenly feel like being sick. Backing away from the doorway to the kitchen you almost trip over your feet at the speed you’re trying to get away from the conversation, from Jake, from the frat house. 

There it is–there’s your out. Your ick, if you will. Jake, standing in his perfect kitchen, surrounded by a bunch of barely matured fraternity bros, talking shit about you. It’s not that the feelings of hatred weren’t technically mutual, but the extent to which you complain about Jake is usually limited to surface level shit. 

If you had stuck around for just a moment longer, you would’ve heard the way that he defended you over a chorus of agreement from around him, “C’mon man, it’s not like that. Don’t say shit like that about her. She’s under a lot of pressure and you’re kind of a dick in class anyway.”

But you don’t stick around. Instead, you push your way through the mass of bodies, accidentally stumble through a smoke circle, and you still seem so far away from the exit. You pass by Bradley again, and this time he’s with the girl that he insists is just a friend, but they seem too cozy for that in the moment. You don’t stop to say hi. 

When you finally get outside, your chest is heaving and you think you might be sick, alcohol aside. 

This is exactly why you focus on academics. They gave back as good as they got, never betrayed you, never let their friends talk shit about you. Academics never called you “stuck up”, stopping short of biting out the insult “bitch”. God you’re so stupid. 

You should’ve never let him get close, you should’ve stuck to the project and just finished it without ever learning more about Jake beyond the bare minimum. No evenings spent crowded around a countertop covered in textbooks and notes, Bradley humming in the background as he cooked something delicious. No letting Jake buy you coffee or cafeteria food. 

This is exactly what you deserve for letting him in.

----------

tagging: @roosterbruiser @joaquinwhorres @sometimesanalice @seresinsweetie @bobfloyds @theharddeck @jupitercomet @dempy @gigisimsonmars @sunsetsimpsblog @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @kajjaka @clancycucumber230 @desert-fern @bibitches-r-us @cruelmissdior @chaoticassidy @blue-aconite

[marzmeltdown]

Bad Decisions

⌦ Pairing: Prof!Changkyun (I.M) x Fem!Reader ⌦ Genre(s): Smut ⌦ Warning(s): swearing,, age gaps (changkyun's in his 30's readers in their 20's),, power dynamics,, exhibitionism (kinda),, nicknames (changkyun: sir,, professor,, reader: doll,, princess,, idk if slut constitutes itself as a nickname but its used,, ),, cream pies(pls be practice safe sex besties),, deep throating,, face fucking,, desk sex,, choking,, oral (m receiving),, Dacryphilia,, dirty talk,, spit eating (idk if thats what its called),, fingering,, humiliation,, ⌦ Word count: 2.66k ⌦ Summary: You're struggling in your history class, so naturally, you go to your professor for help. You weren't expecting to receive that type of help as well. ⌦ A/N: Listening to Hollywood Undead and Monsta X while writing this was an experience to say the least. I may or may not have written this for myself as well. Have y'all seen that tiktok of Changkyun pulling out of a parking spot w one hand? Twas truly beautiful. If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on everything I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:)

⌦ marz’s tag list ⌦ marz’s req form

You cried as you looked at the exam grade displayed on your computer screen. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. D+, you had studied so hard; how could you have gotten such a bad grade? You sat at your desk with your knees to your chest, crying into them.

Your head flew up as you heard the door to your dorm room swing open, followed by your roommate's keys jingling as she walked in. She sat her bag on the floor beside her bed, oblivious to your crying until she took her headphones out of her ears.

"Oh my god, y/n, are you okay? What happened??" She asked, tossing her headphones onto her bed as she rushed over to you. You sniffled a bit, turning the laptop towards her with one hand while the other wiped away the tears that had taken residence on the tip of your chin.

"I got a D on my history exam," you said. It took everything in you not to scream with how upset you were; history was the only class you were struggling in. Which didn't make any sense to you, as you really liked history.

"What the hell? You studied so hard! You study more than I do!" Your roommate gasped, her brows furrowed in confusion and irritation as she too tried to wrap her head around how you could have done so poorly on an exam you worked so hard to prepare for. You sniffled once more, turning the laptop back to you and beginning to write your professor an email asking if he were free tomorrow during his office hours.

"I'm going to go talk to him tomorrow and see if there's anything I can do to get my grade up," you said, your voice slowly going back to normal rather than the shakey, upset voice you had when your roommate walked in on your crying session.

"That's a good idea. Mr. Im is a nice professor; I'm sure he would be more than willing to help you out." Your roommate said she hugged your side reassuringly before walking back to her side of the room.

Mr. Im replied to your email sooner than you had expected; he has always told students that as soon as 5 p.m. rolled around, any emails he had would be answered the following business day.

⌦ Mr Im:

ㅤY/N,

ㅤThank you for reaching out regarding your performance in class, my office hours are open all ㅤday.

ㅤThank you, Mr. Im.

You smiled as you read the email, looking back at your roommate, who had gotten comfortable on her bed. "He's free all day tomorrow; hopefully we can get something figured out."

"That's great; I'm sure he will work with you about your grade," she reassured once more.

You sighed shakily as you stood outside your professor's office. Rarely did you ask for help, so knowing that you were about to knock on Mr. Im's door to do exactly that made you nervous. After a couple deep breaths, you knocked on the door. You were worried that you'd knocked too softly until the door swung open, revealing your professor.

"Y/N, come in; it's good to see you." Mr. Im smiled, and you stood there in awe for a moment as you soaked in his smile. He was ethereal, and you felt as though you could stare at him all day if you could.

"Nice to see you too, Mr. Im," you stuttered, stepping into the room. It was neater than you had expected; every book on the shelf was in order from biggest to smallest, and the couch that sat against the wall looked untouched. His desk looked unused aside from the stack of papers on the left corner and a water bottle that sat next to his computer; the floor was spotless as well.

"What was it you wanted to talk about, y/n?" Changkyun asked, following you to his desk once he shut the door. You both took seats in the chairs opposite each other.

"I wanted to talk about my grade; it's not great," you said, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

"I'm well aware that your grade isn't anything to brag about," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

"Right.." You said that, blushing a bit as you looked down.

"I suppose you're hoping I can help you fix that?" He asked, and his tone came off more condescending than he had meant it.

"Yeah, if you'd be so kind,"

"Well, if you paid better attention in my class, you might do better," he suggested. Your head snapped up at him as you looked at him with widened eyes. He smirked softly, beginning to speak as he stood up from his chair. "Don't act so surprised, y/n; I see how you stare at me during class; it's pretty obvious." He said, you hadn't noticed that he was standing right next to you until he gently took hold of your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"It makes me wonder what's going on in that pretty little head of yours," he said, running his thumb against your bottom lip as he spoke. His voice had gotten deeper—sexier even, if that were possible. Instinctively, you parted your lips as you kept your eyes trained on him. "You and I both know that you're capable of studying for my exams, so I'll cut you a deal; I'll fix your grade if you do something for me."

Your professor seemed more talkative than normal, but you assumed anyone would be if they were discussing "deals" with another person. It was your turn to speak now. Before you could, however, his thumb found itself inside your mouth, pressing itself down on your tongue. Changkyun stood still as he waited for an answer, looking down at you with lidded eyes. You nodded in response to his offer.

Changkyun only smiled at this as his free hand worked at his belt. You moved your eyes to his hand as your hands reached up to aid him in taking his belt off. He jerked your head up gently, forcing you to look back up at him. "Eyes on me, doll."

Undoing the clasp of his belt and the buttons of his pants without being able to look at them seemed to be somewhat of a struggle. But the reward behind the zipper was worth the struggle. Changkyun moved his hand from your chin to your head once you pulled his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out.

You broke eye contact with your professor long enough to glance at his cock, your mouth watering at the sight. You brought a hand to pump at the base, looking back up at him as you began pumping his cock with a steady pace. His breath hitched slightly when you let your tongue run against the pink tip of his cock.

"Fuck, you look so pretty like this, princess," he breathed out as you took the head of his cock into your mouth. He gripped your hair roughly, forcing himself the rest of the way into your mouth. You did your best not to gag, though your efforts proved futile when the tip of his cock brushed against your throat.

The sound of your gag seemed to spark something within him as his hips began thrusting themselves into you and shoving his cock further down your throat. Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes from how harshly he was thrusting into you. The lewd sounds of your gags mixed with his groans of pleasure and the saliva being churned in your mouth filled the room. You were surprised no one had heard you two yet.

Just when you were certain your professor was only going to abuse your throat, he pulled out of you, pulling you to stand. Immediately, you leaned in to kiss him, the both of you hungrily attacking each other's mouths. Your hands found their way to Changkyun's collar, tugging him closer as you sat on his desk. Your fingers worked to undo the buttons on his shirt while his worked at the buttons on your pants. You mentally cursed at yourself for not taking your roommate's advice on the skirt she suggested you wear.

You pushed Changkyun's shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, before aiding him in taking your pants off. His hand found itself resting against your heat as his thumb rubbed itself against your clothed clit. You whimpered at his soft teasing, bucking your hips against his hand.

"Patience, princess, I'll fill you up soon," he said against your lips, his fingers still teasing you through your panties.

"Yes, sir," you replied, whining when he pulled your panties aside to continue teasing your hole. "Just take them off," you begged, moving a hand down to push your panties off.

Changkyun chuckled at your impatience but obliged, pulling your panties off the rest of the way, his hand finding itself attached to your heat once more. "You're so wet already, doll," he commented, emphasizing his words by slipping his middle finger into your hole. A soft moan escaped your lips, and you pulled away from the kiss to let your head fall back.

You let your eyes close as your professor began to pump his finger in and out of your hole. You pulled your shirt off as Changkyun inserted another finger, the surprise causing you to drop your shirt onto his desk, letting yourself lean against your hand as his thumb rubbed itself against your clit once more.

"F-fuck, professor, please," you begged as your head fell back. His fingers felt like magic against the nerves between your thighs.

"Please what, princess? Use your words," he said, his free hand reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra. You were surprised at how well your professor did tasks with one hand that would have required a normal person to use two.

"Fuck me, please," you whined, your free hand gripping at his toned biceps. He smirked at your request, pulling his fingers out of you and leaving your hole empty momentarily as he reached into his wallet to grab a condom. Your head snapped up to look at him, and your hand flew up to stop him, looking at him pleadingly.

He looked at you with a confused expression, his confusion disappearing once you opened your mouth to say, "I know you want to fuck your cum into me just as much as I want you to."

You weren't sure where this new bout of confidence came from, but the look on your professor's face when you spoke went straight to your core. You could feel the slick beginning to run down your thighs as you bit your lip. He tossed the partially opened condom onto the floor along with his wallet before pulling you closer by your thighs.

"If you keep talking like that, kitten, I might have to take you home with me," he said as he took his cock in one hand, his other pushing your thigh up even more, causing you to lie on your back. You whimpered as Changkyun rubbed his cock against your folds, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, princess?" Changkyun began as he slowly thrust himself into you. It took all the strength you had not to let your head fall back so you could watch as your professor's cock disappeared into your hole before reappearing again once you'd had time to adjust to his size.

You bit your lip as Changkyun began speaking again, painting a more detailed picture in your head of what he was talking about. "You'd like it if I took you home and fucked you like the little slut you are," he said, letting his hand rest against your throat, squeezing just enough to feel good but not enough to cause any serious harm.

You nodded in response, letting your body fall back against the desk so you could use your hands to hold your thighs open. "Yes, sir, I'd like that very much." You whined.

Changkyun wasted no time as he snapped his hips into you at a rapid pace, leaning his body against yours so you were eye to eye. The way his body pinned you in place prevented you from arching your back while simultaneously forcing your legs to rest themselves against his shoulders, allowing him to pound deeper into your walls.

You couldn't help the loud moans that came out of your mouth as his tip brutally hit your sweet spot. His hand moved from your throat to slip his fingers into your mouth, muffling any noises that escaped your lips.

"Be quiet, princess; you don't want anyone to catch us now, do you?" He asked, and his question, along with the taste of your slick still on his fingers, caused a whimper to fall from your lips. You shook your head, and the sight of you tasting yourself on Changkyun's fingers caused his dick to twitch inside you.

Only when he thought you were capable of controlling your sounds did he remove his fingers from your mouth, this time gripping at your jaw just as he had done earlier.

"I bet you let all your professors slut you out like this, don't you?" He taunted, angling his hips so every thrust would push the head of his cock against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars each time it was hit. His hand keeping a firm grasp on your chin prevented you from shaking your head in protest; he took this opportunity to spit into your mouth to further humiliate you.

His words and the act of him spitting into your mouth went right to your core, and your walls began to contract around his cock.

"N-No sir! J-Just you—fuck, I'm so close," you moaned, digging your heels into his shoulder blades in attempts to pull him closer. You reached back to grip the edge of the desk, effectively pushing the ungraded papers onto the floor.

"Go ahead, princess, cum on my cock," he panted, feeling the knot in his stomach begin to tighten as well. He propped himself up on his hands to give himself more leverage, his thrusts going deeper and harder than they had been previously.

It took a few more harsh thrusts on his end before the coil in your stomach snapped and you were sent over the edge. Your hand clamped itself over your mouth to muffle the wanton moan that escaped your throat as you felt your hole flutter against his cock and your arousal slowly ran down Changkyun's cock. You were positive he would have a stain there afterwards.

The tight grip your walls used to hold Changkyun in was enough for him to fall over the edge, a soft whimper escaping his mouth as he finished. He thrust his cum back into you a few times as he rode out his orgasm, his thrusts coming to a full stop, and he caught his breath before pulling out. He watched as his cum dripped out of your hole and down the side of his desk.

"Here," Changkyun said, handing you a water bottle as he helped you sit up. You weren't sure when he'd walked away, but he had already cleaned himself and adjusted his pants. You winced as you sat up, taking the water bottle from him.

"Thank you," you said as you opened the bottle, taking a sip. You watched as Changkyun gently wiped you clean with a few tissues he had taken from the box that surprisingly didn't fall.

He tossed the soiled tissues into the trash can beside his desk before he leaned in to whisper into your ear.

"I expect you to pick those papers up, and I was serious about taking you back to my place."