#that his music (and his pretty face) is enough

[navybrat817]

Every Touch

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky touches you every chance he gets.

Word Count: 820

Warnings: Established relationship, sweetness, fluff, implied smut, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Tower Shenanigans inspired by a sweet nonnie! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Once your relationship is out in the open he doesn't stop touching you because there's nothing to hide. Plus he loves touching you.

If you two are ever apart, he seeks you out first thing. If his hands are full, he puts whatever he’s holding down so he can put his hands on you in some way.

It’s normal for him to sneak up behind you in the kitchen, or any room in the tower really, and press a kiss on your shoulder. It’s always the same spot and it always tingles after.

He likes to sit close in the common room so your legs are touching. He sometimes tucks your head under his chin and breathes you in, and other times he rests his head against you and you run your fingers through his hair.

Bucky once got jealous when you ran your fingers through Bob’s hair, but that’s a story for another day with a very happy ending for you.

He also likes to sit beside you when he reads so he can hold your hand, and he places the book on his lap so he can turn the page and not let you go. If he runs small circles on your hand, he’s reading something soothing, and if he’s squeezing your hand, he’s reading something exciting or potentially upsetting.

Interlocking fingers puts a small smile on your face because that means he’s reading something romantic and he once said, “This is one of the greatest love stories ever told, but ours is better.”

You didn't laugh or tease him because he meant it. “I love you, too, Bucky,” you said, your heart full.

Everyone knows you're by his side for movie nights and he’ll happily hide your face in his neck if you watch something scary, even when you tell him you aren't afraid. He just wants to protect you, even if the monsters aren't real.

If he sits beside you when you eat, he has a hand on your thigh. That can be dangerous depending on the kind of mood he’s in.

If he has to sit across from you, prepare for him to play footsie or reach across the table to take your hand. He sometimes does both.

You hold hands or he has an arm around your shoulders in public. If he puts his arm around your waist, someone is either staring at you or is ballsy enough to hit on you in front of him.

You usually give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth when that happens, both to calm the raging storm inside him and to wordlessly tell anyone looking that you two belong to each other.

Every once in a while Bucky will play music so you can dance together. He’s a gentleman at first and has a hand on your waist while the other has your hand in his, but it typically ends with an innocent kiss that becomes heated and his hands wandering over your body.

After you woke up in his bed the first time, you traced a heart over his when you thought he was still asleep. A heartbeat later he traced a heart on your back.

Your limbs are constantly tangled up when you're in bed together and you both continue to trace patterns and shapes on each other's skin. You even write words or phrases that he tries to guess, which he’s pretty good at.

If he catches you frowning, he’ll reach out and touch your cheek with one finger until you smile. He’ll then put his entire hand against your cheek to keep you in place and memorize how beautiful you look.

Bucky is in a better place mentally than he has been in a long time, but he still has his bad days like everyone else. When those days pop up, you ask if it’s okay to touch him.

He never answers with words. He’ll take your hand, wrap you up in a hug, whatever he needs, and he appreciates that you asked when others would've just taken or assumed.

If you're hurt, it’s game over. He's carrying you everywhere and holding you in his lap, even if it's the tiniest injury known to mankind and you're more than capable of moving around on your own.

You tease that he's dramatic, but you not-so-secretly love it. It also isn't a secret that some missions are terrifying and you both need the comfort and each other's touch after.

“I can't lose you,” he once whispered so low that it was almost lost in the air. You snuggled close so he could feel your beating heart and know you were right there with him.

In your dreams, and you hope in reality, you’d never lose each other. You’d fight together, grow old together, and live a long and happy life together.

And you’d cherish every memory with Bucky, along with every touch.

This man. 🥰 I wonder just how jealous he got because of Bob. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑

w.c › 6.6k

warnings › bottom male reader. A faceclaim for him, if you need visuals. Based on my short Drabble. Changed some things to keep it fresh.

plot › a stalker (you) who becomes an idol, experiences withdrawn feelings from not being able to stalk your bae anymore due to scheduling issues. So your sister forces you to make some online friends, one you get particularly close to.

kinks › phone sex

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Arakawa Naoki had a stalker.

Naoki couldn’t exactly remember when you began watching him. He just randomly noticed you appearing in places you weren’t before. At first he was creeped out—wondering what trusted adult he should tell.

Until he saw you trip over your own shoelace when trying to discreetly follow him into a grocery store.

Then he just started seeing you as a kid who wanted attention but would rather die than directly ask for it.

You were pretty harmless. After six months of your ‘stalking’, you began leaving him gifts and food. It was mostly his favorites too. How could he not appreciate you?

Once he had graduated middle school and moved to high school, he honestly expected to never see you again. Until he noticed you in his assigned classroom. Judging by how quickly you shoved a book in your face—you weren’t expecting him.

His luck.

That’s when he learned your name.

Momoi (Name).

Your last name was cute. Peach well? Adorable even.

He couldn’t find you scary at all. Though your classmates seemed to disagree. No one would talk to you or even glance your way unless they had no choice. He didn’t understand why, you were cute.

Sure, you didn’t put any efforts into your looks. Your tie was a mess, white shoes that were caked with dirt, cardigan missing buttons, a strange black stain on your blouse. Your face was permanently in a frown, eyes staring off into space if they weren’t looking at Naoki.

Okay.

Okay, maybe you weren’t cute to the average person.

But Naoki saw past that. He began paying attention to you—how could he not? He noticed that you were into music. One of the rare times you actually did something that wasn’t dedicated to him.

He saw you staring almost longingly at the music club last week. But you didn’t attempt to walk into the room, opting to quickly walk away.

You hardly knew how to hide your diary, having it out on your desk, wide open even when you left to the restroom. It made sense, no one ever went near you at all. Only Naoki cared enough to see what you could’ve possibly written.

5月10日 Arakawa-San recently got a bad haircut.. it’s really bad… but he’s still cute… so I’ll ignore it

5月11日 Sis keeps bothering me to audition, stupid. How do you nicely tell someone to shut up?

5月16日 Sis told me writing in the diary everyday would help me but honestly I feel like a psycho. Besides, I’m not sure what to write sometimes, should I just put nonsense?

5月17日 クククククククククククククククララララララララララ, おぉ〜 ??????? 悲しい嬉しい !!!!!!!! What if I jumped in front of the train, would it be an instant death? Hm

Mostly nonsense for the most part. Especially after May 17th. Seemed like you gave up actually writing your feelings in it. Oh well, it was a nice look into his weird stalker.

“Don’t you think Momoi-San is a bit… strange…?”

Naoki glanced up from your diary. He had taken it up from your desk yesterday and it seemed you hadn’t noticed yet. You were both now seniors and were once again in the same class.

“What do you mean?” Naoki questioned, glancing back at your diary. His friend, Nakamura groaned as he rubbed at his hair. He scooted closer which caused Naoki to quickly position your diary so Nakamura couldn’t get a passing glance.

“I feel like he follows you around! I’ve just started noticing!”

Naoki held back a laugh. Nakamura was about four years late.

“You’re imagining things. Why would anyone follow me? I’m not anyone important.”

“I guess… but…”

10月4日 Momo-Chan died yesterday. I didn’t think hamsters could live ten years. Sis really cared for that rodent

11月7日 I’ve been watching 悪い髪 for four years now but I haven’t even spoken to him this is bad, I got rejected from the university he applied to I haven’t even told mom and dad I only applied to one… they’ll kill me

12月19日 forgot I had this stupid thing sis is dragging me to an audition next year maybe by then she’ll forget I can just be a full time stalker

3月23日 she didn’t forget—it’s next week. Oh god, 行きたくない、行きたくない！姉さん、お願いだから

“Naoki! Since when did you read???” Nakamura snapped his fingers, catching Naoki’s attention.

“What?” Naoki closed the diary and shook his head, “you have no proof. No sense in getting paranoid over hearsay. Just leave it alone.”

Nakamura sighed and rolled his eyes, “fine. But I’m not being weird, that guys a freak. I won’t be surprised if he has nothing going for him after we graduate.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

もとも

To say Nakamura was dead wrong would be an understatement. You and your sister must’ve went to that audition and passed with flying colors. Because next thing Naoki knew was that you were on a poster at his part time job with your sister, teasing your debut. Mo to Mo.

You had cleaned up nice for the photoshoot, Naoki felt validated for thinking you were cute underneath all that ‘dirt.’ It seemed the agency was leaning heavily into an alternative and more edgy look with you and your sister.

Naoki didn’t think he’d ever seen your bare arms before until that poster. That stare that your past classmates saw as terrifying was oddly sensually. He was happy that you had something going for yourself, his stalker.

But…

He didn’t expect that meant he’d only get to see you on the tv from now on.

2 years later

“(Name), stop wallowing in your stolen hoodie please. You can’t keep getting so sad every time it’s his birthday.” Hiyori, your sister said, kicking your back as she walked past you to the kitchen.

You only whimpered, curling into Naoki’s sweater that you stole on December 19th, your 2nd year at high school. He had left it in his locker one day and you just wanted it, luckily he often forgot to lock his locker.

“But… Sis…” You whined, wiping away a few tears with your hand. “I only know what university he went to… I have no time to see him anymore.”

“It’s not like you ever spoke to him.” Hiyori muttered, tossing an apple up and down as she walked back over to living room. She kicked you once more before plopping down onto the couch, resting her feet on your body.

You made no effort to move. “But… I liked seeing him… even if didn’t say anything to him. Seeing him.. helped.”

“You’re lucky he never noticed just how insane you are. You could’ve been in jail right now.”

“Mhm.” You glanced over at your phone, tapping on the screen. “Do you think he’s having a good birthday?”

Hiyori only hummed, “maybe. Arakawa Naoki, right? How’d you even start stalking him?”

“He helped me.”

“Helped. Yea, that’s enough information,” Hiyori shook her head, deciding she was done with you for the time being. She began tapping away at her phone, occasionally giggling. Probably her girlfriend.

You watched the time tick on your phone, right when it reached midnight. The day was now December 25th, Christmas Day. No longer Arakawa Naoki’s birthday. You groaned and turned off your phone, glancing over at Hiyori.

“Merry Christmas…”

“Merry Christmas. Let’s go to the aquarium, that’ll cheer you up.” Hiyori said, taking her feet off your body.

“Aquarium…” You muttered, shifting over to glance up at her. “Tokyo Sea Life Park?”

“If that’s what you want. It shouldn’t be too busy when we go.”

It was very busy.

“What the hell?” Hiyori groaned, pulling down her hat to cover her face. She squeezed past a group of students pressed against the windows. “Tch, these kids have no respect. Hogging up the glass, can’t even see shit.”

You hummed absentmindedly, glancing around. “It’s fine. I just want to see the voyagers.” Your face was properly covered with a mask and sunglasses, a hat resting on the top of your head.

“It’s a Sunday—why are so many people here! I’m sweating too much.” Hiyori complained, her mask slipping down a bit. “Go off without me, I need a water.”

“You sure?”

“Go!” She waved you off, already walking away.

“Ah, okay..” You only shrugged. Better to let her cool off than aggravate her any further. You dodged and weaved through the crowds, coming across couples and families that were taking photos of the fish. It had been two years since visiting Tokyo Sea Life Park in Edogawa City.

You’d come frequently on Mondays and Wednesdays because Naoki would usually have baseball practice. Despite how much you loved him, watching him practice could only be so much fun after awhile.

“Look, isn’t he cute?”

“Ah, don’t point at him! It’s rude.”

“Is he a model?”

“You can’t even see his face, his hat’s hiding it!”

You glanced over at the two girls whispering about, not paying any attention to the fish swimming behind them. Ah, young love. Cute. You shook your head and looked over at the sign on the walls. Voyagers of the Sea… Voyagers of the Sea…

“Excuse me, are you looking for something?”

“Ah,” you glanced up, coming face to face with an employee. They were dressed a bit weird. Wearing a hat and mask. Could employees wear something like that? “Uh, hm, where’s the Voyagers of the Sea? It’s been awhile since I’ve been here.”

The employee turned their head to the map on the wall, muttering to themselves. Shouldn’t an employee know where everything is? You were about to just tell them to forget when they suddenly reached over and grabbed your hand.

“I found it. C’mon.” They sounded like a man. You gasped as he tugged you along. The path was bumpy, constantly having to skid to a stop due to the large crowds. You winced each time you bumped right into his back. Gosh, he had broad shoulders.

Two more sharp turns and another knock to your nose on his shoulder, you arrived at the Voyagers of the Sea. You rubbed your nose, groaning to yourself before glancing over at the tanks.

You couldn’t help but grin. “It’s still pretty.” You whispered mainly to yourself, stepping close to the glass. “Bluefin tuna,” you pointed as it swam past, “eagle ray, scalloped hammerhead.”

“Y’know,” you glanced back at the employee who was standing near you. He hadn’t left yet surprisingly. “Bluefin tuna are the largest tuna species. My sister says they’re also the tastiest. And scalloped hammerheads have a 360-degree vision, but then that means they can’t see in front of them. One time, when I was here as a student, one of the fishes was hiding in front of the scalloped hammerhead’s nose. And—”

“—You really like these things. Are you a marine biologist?” He suddenly interrupted you, tilting his head.

“Oh, sorry. I’m not. I couldn’t study something like that.” You didn’t elaborate. You glanced down at your hand, the employee’s hand casually holding yours. “Uhm. You, uh, don’t need to—”

“—Sorry.” He quickly dropped your hand as if he was burned. “Sorry. You just have… soft hands. Very comfortable.”

“Thanks,” you glanced at his name tag. “Nakamura-San.”

“Naka—?” He interrupted himself letting out a laugh, nodding slightly. “Right, right… I’m Nakamura.”

“Mhm. That’s what your name tag says.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Nakamura laughed. “Do you have anymore fish facts?”

“Aren’t you working right now? I don’t want to bore you.”

“It’s okay. I’m interested in learning.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, hammerheads give birth to live pups, and usually a female hammerhead can fertilize her own eggs without a male. But as soon as she has the pups, the baby hammerheads learn how to survive all on their own.”

“Really? They don’t need a parent?”

“No. They do just fine.”

“Self sufficient.” Nakamura hummed, pulling down his hat. “You’re interesting. Are you in school?”

“No. I uhm, work in the music industry.”

Nakamura perks up at that, looking over at you. Though you weren’t too sure due to his hat covering his eyes. “Really? Do you know Mo to Mo?”

You felt yourself freeze. “Ah, uhm, I’ve heard of them…”

“My friend really likes them. She blasts their music all the time, I think I know the lyrics by heart by now.”

“Mhm, they’re good, so I’ve heard.”

“Yea, have you—”

“—It’s Momoi Hiyori!!!!”

“Hiyori-San, sign my tits please!!!”

“Sign my forehead!!!”

“Momoi Hiyori?” Nakamura whispered as you felt yourself panic. The sounds of fans grew louder with the accompaniment of loud heels clicking against the floor.

There, your sister, hat long gone and mask off entirely, was sprinting your way. She was frantically motioning for you to start running as a crowd of fans were right on her heels.

“Crap.” You whispered, ready to book it but Nakamura grabbed your arm.

“Wait! Can I get your LINE ID?”

“LINE ID?” You whispered in shock. Only your family and manager had your LINE ID.

“Hurry up, Seabrain!!!!” Hiyori yelled, rushing past you.

You cursed and pulled out your phone, fumbling to open up LINE and show your QR code. “Here, here. Just scan it and add me.”

Nakamura rushed to scan the code, humming once he got it. “I got it. Let’s—” but as soon as he glanced back up, you were long gone.

“—hang out sometime…?”

He pulled off his hat and rubbed at his head. “He’s fast…” he glanced down at his phone and looked at your account.

Account Name: シーブレイン

“ぱらぱら” — 好きです

The profile picture was of a koi fish, a hand reaching into the pond to touch its scales.

“Seabrain? Cute.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

ナオイス

シーブレインちゃん, hi~ it’s ’Nakamura’

“Good, good. Lean down further, please. Beautiful.” The photographer said. The sounds of camera flashing and continuous talking almost caused you to miss your phone ringing. Which was strange.

You had little to no contacts. Who could be texting you? It had been nearly two weeks since you had went to Tokyo Sea Life Park. You opened LINE and were surprised to see a request.

“Naoise? Naoise?” You struggled to pronounce the name, tilting your head. What type of name was that? It was just nonsense. “Seabrain-Chan? Is he making fun of me…?” You huffed and turned off your phone, placing it face down on the table.

“Who’s making fun of who?”

You squeaked, glancing up to see Hiyori. She was dressed in a skintight bodysuit, hair slicked back with copious amounts of gel, sharp dark eyeliner and black lipstick. “Hah, answer me.” She said, reaching over to grab your phone.

“Ah, wait!” You reached over to stop her but she easily grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and unlocked your phone.

“Hm? N-Nao-Naoise? Hm, strange name. Seabrain-Chan, hi, it’s Nakamura. Who’s Nakamura?”

“Just an employee at the Tokyo Sea Life Park. He asked for my LINE ID before we had to leave.” You grunted, trying to pull your hands free. How the hell was your sister stronger than you?

“Aren’t you going to answer him? He’s your first contact that’s not family or a coworker. Here, I’ll answer for you.”

“Wait!!”

シーブレイン

(⌒▽⌒)☆ hey, Nakamura-Kun~ I thought you’d never text me

“Are you insane?! Why did you use the a text face?!” You whined, as Hiyori showed you the text she sent. “And I sound so desperate!”

“Why not? It’s cute.”

“Cute?!” You groaned. “Not at all, only kids use that!”

“Not true. My girlfriend sends them to me all the time.” She released your wrists and hands over your phone, pulling out her own to text her girlfriend. “Anyway, talk to this Nakamura guy, maybe he’ll get you to forget Arakawa.”

You frowned. There’s no way you’d ever forget him. Not someone like him.

ナオイス

Aren’t you cute? 悪いな, 海洋くん。

I got busy, my parents and siblings came to visit me since they missed my birthday Couldn’t refuse them

Marine-Kun? You rolled your eyes. Well, it wasn’t like he knew your name. You didn’t really feel like entertaining this any longer but you thought about how your life has been so far. Sure, you technically had fans but you did feel a bit lonely.

Back then, you could watch Naoki and feel moderately okay. Just seeing him was good enough to brighten your mood. But you haven’t been able to see him in two whole years.

Maybe you should… try to forget him?

You shuddered at the thought. Okay. Not forget him. Just, gain a friend.

シーブレイン

気にしない 。

I was busy too. I have to prepare for an upcoming single

ナオイス

Single? Woah

Are you a producer? Songwriter?

シーブレイン

Ah

“Sis!!!” You suddenly shot up, startling Hiyori. She glared at you. “What should I do?”

“What? Why are you screaming?”

“I told him I have to prepare for a single! But! I don’t know what to say? Who do I pretend to be? A singer? Or maybe a makeup artist? Songwriter? I told him I worked in the music industry, I can’t possibly be a makeup artist, oh what should say—!”

“Just say you’re a backup vocalist and are participating in the music video.”

“Ah.” You grin. “Smart. You’re so smart, Big Sis!” You give her a wet kiss on the cheek that she quickly wipes away with a groan, turning your attention back to your phone.

シーブレイン

Backup vocalist. I was just asked to participate in the music video.

ナオイス

mjk? すごい！

You’re cool. I’m just studying meteorology.

Probably become a weather forecaster ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

シーブレイン

Weather forecaster? Is that what you want?

ナオイス

No way

I was a baseball player but

Fucked up left leg, it was bound to happen, I already sprained it once

シーブレイン

それな are you okay now?

ナオイス

Yea. It’s been a year now, I’m

ksnjdnwbdow

You froze, raising an eyebrow. “Ksnjd… is this roman alphabet slang I don’t know?” You began typing the letters into the search bar when he suddenly texted you again.

ナオイス

悪いな。

I need to head back to work, almost got caught by my boss (＞人＜;)

See ya~ シュモクザメ (^_^)/~~~

“Hammerhead shark?” You grumbled, unable to hide the slight smile on your lips. “He’s going to call me everything in the ocean…” you finally took the time to actually see his profile picture. It was of a teddy bear, brown with an eye missing, close to the camera. Though you could still see the background of beach sand.

“That was fast, did you forget about Arakawa by now?”

“Never!”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I’m not doing that again, Nakamura, those aquariums are stressful.”

Naoki sighed, shoving his phone into his back pocket. His hair was pulled into a ponytail as he slipped on some gloves. He began cutting up some fish.

“Why are you even in the kitchen?”

Nakamura rolled his eyes, “it’s my mom’s restaurant, I can go wherever. But c’mon, please? They’re only free on Sunday and I used up most of my vacation days already.”

“Sorry, I can hardly handle standing in here for three hours straight. I’m not doing your job for you again.” Naoki held up the knife, pointing it at Nakamura when he attempted to get close.

“Didn’t you get some guys LINE ID because of me?”

“Because of you?” Naoki chuckled, shaking his head. “Keep talking and you’ll replace this tuna.” He slid the knife clean against the tuna’s body, the head off without a second slice.

Nakamura rubbed his neck. “Sheesh. Fine fine. I’ll figure something out… so cruel. Ah, that Momoi kid is having a comeback soon. Do you still keep up with him?”

“No.” Naoki muttered, pulling out the spine from the tuna. “I haven’t since my accident. He stopped stalking me.”

“I still can’t believe you actually liked that he was stalking you.”

“You wouldn’t get it. But I’ve gotten over him, alright?”

“I’m glad I don’t. Try to form a healthy relationship with this new guy, okay?”

“Stop asking me to take your Sunday shifts for your mysterious babe, okay?”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

4 years ago

You were a senior in middle school, staring down at the lake beneath you. Your shoes were placed down beside you. Your backpack resting on the ground as you peered over the railing. You were a bit short back then, still lagging behind the other boys who were finally getting tall.

Hiyori had teased you’d probably end up her height. Lo and behold you were only an inch taller than her in the present.

“Is that… hm, what’s that one?” You whispered, pushing on your toes a little, trying to see what was floating above the water. It was a bit hard to see—the sun going down being your only source of light.

“They really need to make more light posts.”

You pulled at your uniform to only to feel your button pop loose, falling into the lake below. A curse was on the tip of your tongue as you looked down. It fell with a quiet plop, not even making enough noise or movement to seemingly bother the inhabitants of the lake.

The drop wasn’t high by any means. But the lake wasn’t safe for people to get in. It was deep and the current was surprisingly fast. Once you got swept in, it would be hard to leave. You were honestly wondering if this was actually a lake. It had to have been a river that was just unnaturally wide.

As you pondered what to actually call the body of water underneath the bridge, you heard someone yell.

You glanced to your left just before you tackled to the ground. A delayed cry left your lips from the sudden force. You awaited the pain but didn’t feel anything. The person who tackled you had managed to take the fall damage, now that you were laying atop of them.

You slowly gazed down, noting their middle school uniform, and to your shock—a leg brace on their left leg. A shocked gasp left your lips, catching sight of their forgotten crutches on the ground not too far from you.

This person��� was insane?

Said person began to cough violently, their hands digging into your back. You sat up and made sure to not accidentally touch their left leg. The sunset was your only light at this point. Yellow-orange rays shined down on the boy beneath you.

His black hair formed around on the ground, resembling a halo. A little cut on his cheek. On his right cheek there was a mole, almost directly on his cheekbones. His hands slowly slide down your back before falling limply to the ground.

“Hey… Oi. Did you hit your head?!” You whispered, reaching down to touch the back of his head. Sure enough, as you brought your hand back, there was a bit of blood on the tip of your fingers.

You fished out your phone and quickly called for an ambulance. As you waited, you heard a little laugh. You glanced down to see the boy staring up at you, his lips slowly pulling into a little grin.

“At least..” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “The ambulance is for me.”

“What…? I—did you think I was going to jump?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze unfocusing. You gently rubbed his cheek, hoping to keep him awake.

“I was just looking at the water. I’m sorry, please don’t be too hurt because of me…” You frowned. The only reason your shoes were off was because the right shoe had torn open. You were just waiting for Hiyori to get back from the nearby convenience store with some flip flops.

Now you were waiting for an ambulance.

“Prob… just a concussion.” He suddenly whispered, humming slightly. “Don’t worry.”

“Don’t fall asleep. What’s your name?”

“Arakawa.. Naose.”

“Naose?”

“Se?” He began to giggle. “Did I say se? Nice? Ki… meant Ki.. Naoki…”

“Naoki?”

“Hm?”

“Stay awake, please. They’re almost here. Think about, ah, maybe the amount of sea life that can live in a river. How they live different to like, uh, ponds or lakes? Do you like koi fish?”

“Sorry… but that’s really boring…” He muttered, groaning. “I’m falling asleep.”

“Sea life is boring to you?”

“Very… but it’s nice that you like it. I think.. I like.. the sky? Dunno, heheh. Koi fish, is that your name?”

“Huh?”

“Koi-Kun, you… hehe, should be… hm… what was I gonna say?” He began to giggle, raising one hand to gently point at your nose. “Do you, poke fish noses?”

“Fish noses?”

“The weathers nice.” He changed the subject, eyes struggling to stay open. “Y’know… legs’ real ‘urt. Tink ade t rse. Heheh.. ably never play gain.”

“Play what?” You gently patted his face, causing him to open his eyes again.

“Baseball. Mhm… just for a second… lemme..”

You tapped him again. “Stay awake please.”

“So mean…” he gazed over at you, a little smile on his lips. “You…. Pretty.. in a weird way. Koi-Kun.”

The sound of sirens caught your attention before you could respond. “Ah, they’re here! Hey, hey, Naoki-San, Naoki-San!”

That was how you met him, giving him a concussion and perhaps ruining his baseball career.

Young love (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

ナオイス

くらげさん, おはよう～(・ω・)ノ slept well?

シーブレイン

Jellyfish? That’s new, are you going to stick with a nickname or just keep calling me new ones each time?

ナオイス

∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ of course～ でも！you know the kanji for jellyfish, right?

シーブレイン

海月? Umi? Tsuki?

ナオイス

Ya, Sea Moon, if you directly translate it in English wwwww

It’s what I think of you, cold and deep, so mysterious, like the sea～ and round, bright, and shiny, like the moon～

シーブレイン

Bright? The moon?

Most people wouldn’t agree with that, the moon doesn’t provide its own light

ナオイス

Right

But it still shines, even if it needs some help

Think of me as your sun, helping you shine,

Sea Moon～ (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)

Later, I have class

“Holy shit.” Hiyori cursed, staring at your phone in shock.

You and ‘Nakamura’ have been chatting for around two months now. The conversations were pretty boring for the most part. Honestly you assumed he’d stop talking to you due to how dry and cold you were. But he’d always respond quickly.

He always made time to respond to you. He even said his name wasn’t ‘Nakamura’ but he never told you his actual name. Not like you asked, you probably should.

He was really into using text faces. At first you viewed them as childish but you got used to them. They could be cute, occasionally.

You two shared pictures but never of yourselves. Just of dinner or any other item that was interesting enough.

“He.. he must like you!” Hiyori whispered, looking over at you. “Who could say something so.. casually?!”

“He can’t. He doesn’t even know what I look like! Or who I actually am! He’d freak out.”

“I doubt that.” Hiyori sighed, rubbing her hands through her hair. “You should try sending something, see if he’s just those friends who are poetic platonically.”

“What would I send?”

“Something sexy.”

“No way.”

You sighed, rubbing at your face as you stared down at your phone. Okay, you’ve always had a problem with saying no to your sister’s ideas. After some goading, you reluctantly took a video.

Hiyori already told you what to say once you pressed send. The video was just of you recording yourself in one of the outfits for your recent music video. It was one of your more scandalous outfits, skin tight pants with holes throughout. A see through shirt and a choker. Chains decorated the outfit.

It was a whole thing.

The video was only about ten seconds. You made sure to have your face out of frame as you pointed your phone down at your pants. There was a mirror right across from you, you laid on a couch, legs spread out, back slightly arched. Your hand was shaky as slid down to your crotch.

Pants button was already open as you gently gripped the edge of your shit that was tucked into the pants, slowly pulling it out. The slightest glance at the thin, tight black briefs you wore before quickly ending the video.

Hiyori’s ‘excuse’ was a simple and planned: “oooh, sorry sorry! I didn’t mean to send this video!” Then you’d send a normal video just showcasing your outfit in the mirror, standing up.

Good enough excuse since you could feign innocence, both videos did have you in the same outfit. And so long as you goaded ‘Nakamura’ into asking for what you wore for the video—it’d make sense.

Hiyori had said that ‘Nakamura’ would either forget and push past the video, or get horny.

You didn’t know what exactly you wanted.

You were a bit scared at the thought of making him uncomfortable—losing your first and only friend you have right now. But there was a small little part of you that was curious, deadly curious to how he felt about you.

ナオイス

Did you go to bed yet?

I can’t sleep (｡ ́︿ ̀｡)

You shot up from bed, staring at your phone.

This was your chance.

シーブレイン

Still awake

Is everything okay?

ナオイス

I’m ok (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) just a bit of pain in my leg again

But it stops after a few minutes

What～did～you～do～today～？ᶘ ᵒᴥᵒᶅ

シーブレイン

I filmed the music video

It was for a b-side song for the artist’s album that came out a few weeks ago

Very fun, so busy, the outfits were nice

ナオイス

wowowo ♪( ´θ｀)ノ すごいね！

What were the outfits? The singer didn’t make you wear trash bags so you wouldn’t outshine them, right~? (ﾟoﾟ;;

Today I just had class, my friend was blasting Mo to Mo’s new album, it’s catchy

シーブレイン

ww no they didn’t do that

We got good outfits

Oh, you changed your profile pic

You glanced at his picture, taking note of the new one. It was of that same teddy bear now directly in the sand. A human hand held out a peace sign, acting as if that was the teddy bear’s own hand.

シーブレイン

You really like that teddy bear

ナオイス

You noticed?

Yea, I do, it was given to me in my senior year at middle school

Don’t remember who gave it to me, just woke up in the hospital with it in my arms

Mom said the person left a note, just telling me sea life isn’t boring wwwwwwww ╭(╯3╰)╮

Anyway~ send send!!

You paused. Sea life isn’t boring? No, it couldn’t be. You shook your head. Sure, it was very specific, but—you couldn’t be the only person to write a note like that. Besides, that teddy bear is basic. Yea, it’s not you. No way. No, way.

You rubbed your face as you pulled up the video. You hesitated. Should you really do this? Wouldn’t it be more mature to just ask him if he might like you romantically? That would be smarter. Less manipulative.

Not like you could talk. You stalked a boy for four years straight. The only reason you stopped was because your schedule was overwhelming and any free time you had, you just wanted to sleep. Besides, you didn’t know where Arakawa Naoki really was anyway.

Sure you knew the school but it was a well known and large university. There were so many students. You didn’t even know what major he went in for. It’d take you awhile to find him.

Just as you were debating to yourself, your finger pressed against the screen. You glanced down to see that you sent the risky video.

Well—

You almost screamed in panic, ready to unsend the message but it was too late. It showed that he saw it. He viewed it. He more than likely just finished watching the full ten seconds.

Oh god.

It was a slow and agonizing minute as you stared at your phone, almost waiting for him to cuss you out. But instead, you got a video.

Your finger hovered over the video before pressing play. You quickly paused it though, reaching over for your headphones. Even if your room was on the other side of the shared apartment, you didn’t want to risk it.

After a deep breath and the little beep telling you the headphones were connected—you pressed play once more.

The video was a bit dark, the soft glow of the moonlight being your only light. A shuddered sigh left ‘Nakamura’ before he pointed the camera to his pajama pants. He tugged at the waistband, pulling it far before letting it snap right back against his skin.

A tight grunt left him just as the video ended.

ナオイス

Am I overthinking things?

It wasn’t an accident, right?

シーブレイン

It technically was

But I recorded the video with you in mind

Silence. You almost wondered if you went too far.

ナオイス

Can you show me more?

シーブレイン

Like another video?

ナオイス

Yea

I’ll send too

Not even a second later, he sent another video. You didn’t hesitate to play it. The video was mostly silence, the sound of sheets rustling as he kept the camera at his pants. His free hand returned to the waistband and tugged, but this time his pulled it further down.

You expected him to have been wearing boxers but to your surprise, his cock was now free. It was already leaking wet—coating white pre cum on his soft stomach. Now free, his hand grasped his cock, his thumb rubbing the pre cum across the head.

ナオイス

Kinda, hard to type one handed

Do me a favor

Masturbate like you’re alone

Don’t hold back

Your body involuntarily shivers as you reach over and turn on your fairy lights, allowing a little bit of light. You pointed the camera to your lower half, kicking the sheets off the bed.

You hesitated for just a moment before pressing record. Should you talk? You didn’t really speak a lot in general unless spoken to. Shaking your head, you slip two fingers into your mouth and suck, coating them with your saliva.

Despite feeling a little anxious, you didn’t attempt to muffle the wet sounds. You pulled your hand away and reached down, using your thumb to pull down your boxers. Your cock plopped out free, beginning to harden due to your rising excitement.

A low sigh left your lips as you reached down between your legs. Because of the angle, he wouldn’t be able to see much. But he would be able to hear the squelch as you easily slipped in two fingers inside your ass.

He would be dumb to not realize you must’ve masturbated an hour or so ago.

You ended the video just as your cock sprung to life, pressing send immediately. The wait for his response almost felt like torture. Your cock leaking dejectedly on your stomach. Your legs shifted on the bed as you tried not to continue on to reach your third orgasm of the night.

Not even a minute later he replied to you.

His video was straight to the point—the teasing long forgotten.

His hand grasped his cock as he jerked himself off. The sound of his shallow breaths and wet gasps filled your ears. You forgot all about recording another video, thrusting your fingers in and out, easily reaching your prostate.

You dropped your phone and gripped your cock, sighing at the relief. His moans were driving you insane—you wanted to hear it in person. Wanted to be the one touching him. Hearing every sharp gasp, watching his body shake from the pleasure.

“….gonna.. cum…”

A grunt your lips at his words. It sounded as if he struggled to even say those two words, his voice wet and shaky. You couldn’t hold back anymore. Being overstimulated from your previous masturbation didn’t help. A rub right against your prostate and a wet stroke of your cock, you were cumming right as he released a wet whimper.

You bit your lip to muffle yourself as much as possible, eyes threatening to roll to the back of your head. Your phone pinged again just as you remembered you forgot to record something.

ナオイス

Sorry, haven’t really

Properly masturbated in awhile

Did you cum at least?

シーブレイン

ええ

I came early too, don’t worry about it

It’ll be longer next time

ナオイス

Next time? ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

Do you like me, Sea Moon~?

You paused. You liked him enough to masturbate but. You wiped your dirty hands on your boxers. The word like was always associated with Arakawa Naoki.

Even now. Even after your little session with ‘Nakamura’…

You could only see a mole on a cheek and messy hair.

No. You didn’t like him.

Just as you were about to respond, he sent a picture. You opened it without a second thought, expecting a risky photo.

But the sight caused you pause.

It was of him.

‘Nakamura’.

Even with only the moonlight as your guide, you knew him. You knew Arakawa Naoki. Even if only half of his face was visible. The infamous teddy bear was in his arms. Half of his face resting on the pillow, a shy grin on his lips.

The mole rested on the same spot it always has, greeting you in the moonlight.

His hair messy and wild. You wondered if you were delusional for thinking it looked like it formed into a halo on the pillow.

ナオイス

Since you can’t actually see me

Post sex wwww (*ﾉωﾉ)

Pretty, right~?

神ってるね?

You couldn’t think. What should you say? Of course he was pretty. He’s been the only person you’ve ever constantly thought about. Even in two years that you haven’t seen him—he’s only gotten more beautiful.

But, you couldn’t possibly do this to him. Stalking him for four years and suddenly you had semi phone sex with him. Sure Hiyori never out right said anything but you knew she wanted you to act more ‘normal.’

Especially with you now in the public eye. You can’t just watch him in the shadows. You were an adult, you had fans, two years of leaving Arakawa Naoki alone to live his life peacefully.

You should end it here.

But here’s the thing about you.

You needed Arakawa Naoki as much as you needed air to breathe.

And here he was, offering himself on a silver platter.

Two years without him and it felt like torture. It felt as if you couldn’t live without him. Before you could watch him from afar and survive but now…

Now you can’t stand by anymore.

You’ve experienced life without Arakawa Naoki and you promised yourself to never experience it again.

シーブレイン

荒川直樹

ナオイス

???

Huh? How’d you get my name?

From my account? Did I tell you and just forgot?

You smirked at your phone, going to your account and changing your name. It really was him. To think he returned your affection after all these years.

シームーン

You probably don’t even know my name, but I’ve been watching you since our senior year in middle school

I thought I lost you

But you’re here, it’s like you were waiting for me

Were you, Arakawa-San?

ナオイス

Momoi-San…?

Did you

You knew this entire time?

You ignore me for two years then knowingly make me believe I’m texting someone else this whole time?

You’re sick, is that singing career of yours not fun enough? Your girlfriend?

Some man you are — I hope the videos were worth it

He was typing too fast for you to even respond to one of his messages. Girlfriend? You didn’t know he was Arakawa until today, what the hell was he talking about?

シームーン

What? What are you talking about?

Hello?

Arakawa-San?

Each message you sent was sent with an error. You tore off your headphones as you sat up, staring down at your phone in complete shock.

He blocked you.

Lol. Yall want a part two? You’re basically turning into a yandere btw. Comment if you wanna be tagged!

Words/Slangs:

クククククククククククククククララララララララララ, おぉ〜 ??????? 悲しい嬉しい !!!!!!!! — Kukukukukukukukukukukukuku Klaralalalalalalalala, ohhh ??????? Sad and happy !!!!!!!!

悪い髪 — bad hair

行きたくない、行きたくない！姉さん、お願いだから — I don't want to go, I don't want to go! Please, sister

“ぱらぱら” — 好きです — “parapara” I love it (it’s the Japanese onomatopoeia for rain sounds)

悪いな, 海洋くん — sorry, marine-kun

気にしない 。— don’t worry

mjk? — まじか (majika) Roman alphabet slang. Means “really”

すごい！— amazing

それな — Sorena, to express sympathy

くらげさん, おはよう～ — morning, Jellyfish-San

でも — but

wwwwww — Japanese’s lol or lmao

ええ — mhm

神ってるね? — heaven-sent; out of this world. He’s basically asking if his looks are godly

シームーン — sea moon

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @tehyunnie @star-3214 @ning1e @anchoredphoenix @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @mello-life25 @smellwell @ofclyde @yuzuukix @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @castocipher @tomoeroi @love-kha1 @secretivemessenger @bensontrechic

[lovelivision]

★‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ GET YOU BACK! ❞

･ ⟢ ⋮ summary. . . toji is your ex-husband and he deeply regrets ever having let the marriage fall apart, he doesn't plan on giving up after the divorce though, determined to get you back. . .

.pairing﹒ꕀ. fushiguro toji / reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎wc.⁀⊹ 3.4k

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ 18+ only, smut, mdni, swearing, porn with some (?) plot, biting, dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), creampie, f!reader, toji is a little obsessed maybe

Toji is still so desperately in love with you – his ex-wife – and he’s refusing to let you forget just how much you mean to him. Always showing up whenever you need him and if he’s being honest, maybe scaring away potential future relationships. He swears he has good reasons for each of them though, that first guy was definitely taking advantage of you because you were sad from the divorce and the other guy… well, he had a creepy vibe.

Maybe he’d feel worse about it if he thought any of them deserved you, hell he thinks he barely deserves you, let alone these fucking losers. You’re far too special to him and he regrets ever letting the marriage get to the point where you left but he’ll spend every day he has left trying to get you back.

Every time you call him for something – or to tell him off for something – his heart stammers in his chest. Your voice like music to his ears, stupid smile on his face even when you’re mad at him, far too adorable for him to be annoyed.

You’re frustrated and huffing down the line at him, “Toji, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am,” he snickers, “I love listening to you.”

“This is exactly what I mean, Toji… you need to move on,” sigh more sad than anything else.

Countering with, “Can you honestly tell me you’ve moved on?”

There’s a heavy silence from your end of the line, pausing for slightly too long before dodging his question, “…Stop meddling in my life and find someone else.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Maybe you should’ve been this communicative during our marriage then.

He imagines your lower lip pulling up like how it often did when you were at your wits end with him, his heart pulling at the thought, he misses you so damn much. “I’ve never wanted anyone else, doll. I–”

“–Could’ve fooled me,” before he can interrupt, you add, “I’m hanging up now and I don’t plan on reaching out to you again… bye, Toji.”

The line dead just as he opens his mouth to reply, soft groan leaving him, frustrated with himself for going a tad too far this time. For now, he’ll give you space, just for now, he’s hoping that you’ll cave and call him again, hoping you miss him just as much as he misses you.

He has so many regrets from the relationship, he should’ve been more attentive, he should’ve been more emotionally available for you. He’s always loved you, loved you so much that he could barely breathe, it’s his mistake that he didn’t show that to you enough while you were his. If he could go back, he would’ve never stopped doing the little things, he wouldn’t have let himself take you for granted…

A few weeks go by after that call and you haven’t reached out to him at all, he’s growing impatient, missing the sound of your voice. It’s a complete coincidence when he runs into you, you’re on the side of the street with some guy. You don’t notice Toji but he definitely notices you, how could he not?

You’re all dressed up and looking so pretty and just as he’s about to leave so he can avoid whatever is about to happen, you slap the man. The smile on Toji’s face appears suddenly and with little control on his part, though he doesn’t deny that he enjoys the way you’re clearly cursing the guy out. Only watching for a moment and then quickly moving to your side because the guy is getting angrier, his fists balling at his sides as his jaw clenches.

Toji places his hand on the small of your back, towering over the man in front of you both. Though he’s mostly ignoring him, addressing you instead, “You look real pretty tonight, doll.”

You’re clearly surprised, having tensed at his touch until you heard his voice, “Toji? What are you doing here?”

“Just passing by when I happened across an interesting scene,” he’s feeling some type of way at the fact you visibly relaxed when it was him next to you, smug maybe? Maybe just pure happiness that you’re still comfortable around him.

“Try not to look so pleased,” your eyes roll at him and he can’t help but notice how pretty the particular shade of them is under the lights tonight.

“Uhh, hello?” your presumed date makes himself known, “Who the fuck is this and can you tell me what the fuck I did to deserve being slapped?”

You snap back, not in the mood to deal with his attitude right now, “You’re a fucking creep is what you did and who this is, is none of your business.”

His tone is all matter-of-fact when he talks again, “This is a date, the third one actually and–”

“I’m telling you right now that you don’t want to finish your sentence,” you’re trying to warn him, not for your benefit but his, “just leave and block my number.”

He goes to argue with you some more but Toji finally pulls his gaze away from you to look at him and if looks could kill, this guy would be dead and no one would know where to find his body. Apparently thinking better of it, your date turns tail and leaves, stomping angrily away from the two of you.

“What’d he do to deserve a slap like that, doll?”

“I’m not in the mood to entertain you, Toji…” you rub at your temples, a habit you’ve had for as long as he can remember, “but thank you… for your help.”

“I’m always here for you,” he frowns, hurt to think you don’t know that, don’t know that he’s always, always here for you. “I don’t want you thinking–”

You raise a hand, interrupting his sentence, “Stop… stop saying the things I wish you’d said while we were married.”

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” you’re clearly hesitant at his ask but he needs to tell you how he feels, tell you so that you understand, “Please.”

Tentative expression on your face but a low sigh letting him know you’re about to cave, “Fine but after this… you need to really try to move on, we can’t keep doing this song and dance.”

He doesn’t answer, not willing to agree to something he couldn’t possibly do. Your eyes close for a moment before blinking back open, head shaking at him but you don’t push him.

Toji’s place is closer but he doesn’t want you in such a shitty neighbourhood at night so you both go back to your house, the house you once shared. While inside, he can’t help himself and he’s snooping, looking for changes to the place and aside from all the things he took with him when he left, it’s much the same.

Walking down the hall only to get caught on your wedding photo, still on the wall. The hope he has at the sight of it doesn’t feel fair, doesn’t feel fair because he doesn’t know if it’s false hope or not.

Your voice from behind him pulls him from his thoughts, “Do you want some tea or something?”

“No,” he pats the top of your head a couple times like he used to do so often, “no, I’m alright.”

“…Then let’s go to the living room,” head nodding in the direction.

It’s quiet for a few moments, neither of you knowing where to start or who should speak first. Toji supposes he should since he’s the one who basically begged to be able to talk to you.

“I know I let you down during our marriage but I need you to know that I always loved you – I still love you, so much.”

Your gaze avoids his and he knows it’s because you’re emotional, eyes looking upwards as you fight to stop yourself from crying, “Is that all?”

“Not even close,” he moves closer to you on the couch, his hands reaching for you and cradling your face, forcing eye contact, “I neglected you and for that I’m so fucking sorry.” Thumb wiping away a stray tear, “I love you.”

“I don’t want to forgive you,” lower lip wobbling, “if I forgive you, you might do it again or you might actually stop loving me and then what? And then I have to go through all of this again?”

He pulls you into his arms, hugging you firmly, “I won’t stop loving you,” face pressing into the top of your head, nuzzling you, “won’t ever fuck up like that again, let me love you properly this time.”

You’re sniffling against his shirt, calming yourself first before answering him. Only doing so when you’ve collected yourself, parting from him enough to look into his eyes when you say, “Fine but I’m not marrying you again until you earn it.”

He can’t help himself, lips on yours and kissing you deeply, so elated at another chance that he couldn’t hold back. His tongue licking into your mouth and savouring the taste of you, he’d missed this so bad; the little noises you make, the way you nearly go limp in his arms, so weak for his kisses.

It’s rushed because of how desperate he is, hands moving to feel you up, groping your body needily. A huffed whine leaving you makes him groan, lips trailing down to your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin.

“Doll, I need you,” he’s basically pleading, he’s missed you so much though, borderline touch starved.

“Okay–” gasping when he bites at your shoulder, “the room, Toji–”

He grunts back at you, annoyed that he has to stop but picking you up and walking down the hall to your room all the same, you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty little fingers right now.

Dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed, causing you to bounce with the weight of it. Toji takes a moment to eye you up, trying to decide what he wants to do first, ultimately choosing to undress you.

“Toji, slow down–”

“–No,” it’s growled back, hands tugging your clothes off until you’re naked, “I’ll do you slow another time.”

So quick he drops to his knees, mouthing up the insides of your thighs. Normally he’d tease you, make you shaky and desperate for it but he’s in no position to play with you, already so desperate himself. Blowing gently onto your cunt just once before licking obscenely up the length of it, his spine shuddering at how sweet you taste, delighting in how you jolt and whine under his mouth.

You’re already so wet and leaking so insistently for him, he’s all too happy to lap at you. Chuckling darkly when your fingers tug at his hair and you whine frustratedly, wanting so much more from him.

“What do you want?”

Pouting back at him, “You know what I want”

Feigning ignorance just so he can hear you say it, so he can hear you ask for it, “Sorry, doll. It’s been a while; you have to remind me.”

“Inside,” you murmur out, all timid.

“Hmm?” he hums, like he didn’t hear you perfectly clearly. Going back to licking and sucking on your pussy, tongue flicking at your clit so cruelly.

“Toji~” you mewl, “inside– hah– I want you inside.”

His cock is aching, twitching in his pants at how pathetic you sound for him – for your ex-husbands dick. Feeling a little evil, he slides his tongue inside you, lewd slurping sounds leaving him as he fucks your hole with his tongue. Giving you what you wanted, filling you, just not with what you wanted.

Your back arching pitifully, moans tumbling from your lips so sinfully sweet that his hips jerk upwards, searching for some way to relieve himself. Hard dick rubbing against the zipper of his jeans, no doubt a wet spot forming through the material where the tip of him rests. Nuzzling into your cunt more, swallowing down the honeyed taste of you and moaning unashamed at it.

He feels insane just about now, in love with you, in love with your sweet pussy. Eyes heavy on you as he watches all of your little reactions, just knowing you’re close, your thighs fighting to close. His hands keep you spread wide, always getting a little extra joy and arousal out of your embarrassment.

Tongue leaving your tight heat only to be replaced with two of his thick fingers, opening you up so indecently. Mouth latching onto your clit, tongue flicking at it over and over, digits rubbing against your walls just how he knows you like. He wants you to cum before he fucks you, always so much wetter and hotter around him once you do. He wants it so bad, the memory enough to make him salivate, drooling onto your cunt.

Broken whines leaving you, “Hah– Toji– hnn– I’m close– I– ah!–”

Your walls flutter so delicate and enticing around his fingers, pulling him in deeper, clinging to him. Soft hum leaving him, acknowledging your words, it’s just his luck that the vibrations add to your pleasure. Legs kicking out as you come undone for him, all shaky and blissed out as your pussy tries to milk his fingers, wishing for something else entirely.

Toji’s brain feels like it’s melting, all gooey and obsessed with you when you’re like this. Helping you through your orgasm and trying his best to ignore the way his cock feels so heavy and hard in his pants.

When you whimper and push at his head lightly, he pulls back. His fingers withdrawing from your snug cunt, all coated in your cum. Without really thinking, like a man possessed, he shoves his fingers into his mouth. It’s filthy how he licks and sucks on them, cleaning them of your essence.

“Toji, stop being a pervert,” your words hold little weight when you still look so turned on and ready to be fucked by him.

He grins at you, standing to his full height, “You ready to remember the shape of me?”

You’re so gorgeous, all splayed out and blinking soft up at him, eyes dazed and twinkling from your orgasm, “Please?”

“Anything for my pretty, little wife,” he undresses for you.

Your eyes track him as he does but you also correct him, “Ex-wife.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes, crawling onto the bed over top of you, “Anything for my pretty, little, ex-wife.”

“I missed you a lot,” leaning up to him so your lips brush against his skin.

The words and your gentle touch send a shiver through him, precum dripping from the tip of his cock onto your skin. “I missed you too, doll, so much.”

Lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, all messy and tangled tongues. Kissing you properly, like he may never get to again, cause he almost didn’t get to. Not even parting when he positions himself at your entrance, slowly splitting you open with his cock. Damn near whining into your mouth, pushing the pathetic sound down, trying to keep control.

Eventually pulling away from the kiss just so he can watch you suck in his dick, biting his lip in what looks like a snarl as he slides inside. Appreciating how your pussy bulges around him so lewdly, barely halfway and looking so fucking stuffed.

He’s taken by surprise when your legs wrap around him and pull him in until his hips are flush to you, balls deep inside you all at once making him moan. Walls clingy and so fucking creamy soft, his cock swallowed up so greedily by your loving cunt. Brain fuzzy as he focuses on not cumming too soon.

It’s hard to keep that focus when you’re grinding up into him, pulsing hot and snug around him. Apparently just as touch starved as he’d been, a desperation in your need that he finds himself loving and understanding.

“Calm down,” his hand trails up your leg, from your hip to your knee, “I’ll fuck you good and proper.���

Gritting back at him, “Then do it.”

“Anything you say, doll.”

Hauling your legs up from under your knees, folding you in half and using his weight to hold you there. His laugh is a little cruel when you whinge up at him, brows pulled together as your mouth drops open.

His head right by yours with how he’s pressing into you, nipping the tip of your ear before he asks, “You ready for it?”

A little shaky under him but so certain when you nod back, “Give– hnn– it to me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckles slightly, hips pulling back, cock dragging from your walls and then fucking back inside you so quick that the air leaves your lungs.

Toji’s head is spinning, your pussy really fucking missed him, hugging him so tight. So perfectly wet and needy that he’s going insane, having you writhing under him while he fucks you stupid.

“Are ya’ enjoying this?” he asks, angled thrusts hitting against your cervix, “You like getting fucked by your ex-husband?”

“Mhm,” nodding deliriously at him, too out of your mind with pleasure to bite back at him.

It’s cute, how you’re falling apart from just a few heavy thrusts, already fucked dumb and he’s just getting started.

“I can tell,” The sloppy wet sounds of your pussy filling the room making him so smug, “pretty cunt sounds so fucking happy to take me.”

“Don’t– ah!– don’t talk like that– hnn–”

Your protests mean absolutely nothing when your pussy betrays just how much you enjoyed his words, grin wicked on his face at how meek it sounded. “Aw I’m sorry, doll. Want me to be sweeter? Nicer maybe?”

“Yes– hng–” nails clawing into his back, the pleasure too overwhelming.

“Your pussy was made for me– hah–” he groans softly, “wrapped so warm and inviting around my cock.”

“That’s not– hnn–” moans shaky on your breath, “that’s not what I meant.”

He presses a kiss to the side of your head, “Was what I meant though.”

Opening your mouth to argue a little more only to be stopped when his thrusts get suddenly much more precise, hitting the same spot over and over and over, entirely on purpose. He knows what it does to you, he loves what it does to you. Relishing in the pitiful and broken moans leaving you, your cunt that much tighter around him, almost milking him.

Oh, you’re falling apart so perfectly under him, he’s not even sure you realise you’re cumming. Pulsing around him and whining desperately, it’s depraved and turning him on so much more. He fucks you through it, not daring to slow his pace, helping you enjoy and ride out your high.

Toji plans on playing with you for longer, have you cumming for him again, holding off on his own orgasm. At least that was his plan before you – in your cock drunk state – started muttering out, “I– hnn– missed you so so much, Toji. Love you– hng– love you, I love you, I l– ah!–”

He genuinely can’t help the effect your words have on him, cock jerking deep inside your cunt before he’s cumming. Rope after rope of his seed filling you so completely that it’s leaking out around the base of him. Deep moans vibrating his chest, eyes shut tight as he steadily rocks his hips into you.

Unable to stop himself, still grinding and rocking into you over and over. His cum making a mess out of the both of you and the bed, something you’ll chew him out for once you’ve exited your stupor.

When he does eventually stop, he keeps your legs folded up to your chest while he pulls out. A depraved and perverted desire to watch how his cock leaves your cunt, hole looking lonely while not stuffed full of him. His semen dribbling from you and down your ass, it’s turning him on again but you’re too out of it for another round right now.

Careful with how he lowers your legs back onto the mattress, moving to your side and pulling you to him. Both your chests pressed together, his fingers delicately trailing up and down your arm.

You’re drifting in and out of sleep when he promises you, “I’ll treat you so much better this time,” he doesn’t mind if you heard it or not because he’s going to prove it to you every day with his actions.

𝒂.𝒏. i was in the middle of writing a drabble and did that thing where i accidentally added too much plot and then it turned into a mini fic... I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT THOUGH❕🤍 it's a little different from my usual stuff teehee

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[purinfelix]

pretty please? - n. riki ₊˚⊹♡

summary: dragging your introverted boyfriend to a house party doesn't go entirely as planned - but still ends exactly how it's meant to ──────────── ni-ki x reader || semi-college au, ni-ki is a pouty emo baby, kinda that "i only like you" dynamic, super soft fluff || w/c: 1.4k

a/n: i'm soft for niki yall i just love writing him like this ARGHGHDF ... also this is semi inspired by the party scene with jess and rory from gilmore girls if anyone cares ALSO AAA HOW GOOD IS THE COMEBACK YALL SDKJFNSDKFJN

Call it basic, but house parties have always been a little bit of a guilty pleasure for you.

The loud music, the less-than-enjoyable drinks, the mindless chatter - some might find it irritating or a waste of time, but to you, it's harmless fun. Letting yourself let go, to just enjoy the company of other people and the feeling of dressing up, it felt like just the thing you needed, especially after a hellish exam week.

But Niki didn't seem to share the same sentiment, judging from the look he had given you when you brought up the idea to him a couple of weeks ago - something in between disgust and concern. Though he's never been able to say no to you, and so before the two of you know it, you're walking hand in hand into a bustling room full of moving bodies and flashing lights.

It's only about two hours into the party, though, that you notice the glaring absence of an arm snaked around your waist, or a hand sprawled across the small of your back. You'd always been the more extroverted of you two, so at first, you didn't think much of it when he left you to your conversations. But not being able to spot your boyfriend's tall figure anywhere - lurking in any corners or hovering around the drinks table like he typically did when you dragged him to things like this, it concerned you slightly. So you were quick to brush off the small talk you were making to set off the find him,

And you did soon enough, not anywhere near the loud music or chatter, but rather, somehow, in one of the bedrooms, alone. It almost made you laugh when you tentatively opened the door, half expecting to find a couple drunkenly making out behind it, only to spot your boyfriend sitting in an armchair in the dim light, staring at his hands with an expression you could only describe as pure boredom.

"There you are," you whisper gently, trying to lighten the mood.

He doesn't say anything, but his eyes flicker to you and for just a moment he looks a little surprised, almost as if he wasn't expecting you to come looking for him.

"I've been looking all over for you," you coo, shutting the door behind you so that the room darkens once again, and the noise of the party is muffled just enough.

"Just got tired of everything going on down there," he sighs, and it's a heavy sigh. You watch as his eyes meet yours, as if he's trying to gauge your reaction to his disappearing act.

You only offer a reassuring smile in response, padding your way over and finding your way to stand between his knees, his hands coming up almost instinctively to grip your hips in a way that tells you he wasn't enjoying your time apart. He buries his face into your stomach, and you can feel him shut his eyes as he leans into your warmth.

"Sad boy," you tease, running your fingers through his hair, "I thought you said you didn't mind coming with me."

"I didn't," he huffs, a little childishly, "but then we got here and it's all so loud and everyone here is annoying."

"Well we could just go down and talk for a little bit, c'mon," you beg softly.

"I don't want to talk to anyone else," he admits, pausing before continuing, "I don't like anyone else." You're about to laugh at how cheesy his words are, but as he lifts his head, you see his truly earnest expression, lips forming the tiniest pout.

You'd be lying if you said you wanted to leave this party now, but the look on his face - a mix between demanding and begging - makes it difficult for you to stand your ground.

"You want to get out of here, then?" you ask softly, just barely above a whisper as you cup his face, thumb stroking the side of his cheek.

He pauses, shutting his eyes as he leans into your touch once more. "You should stay," he mumbles, leaning back into the chair before shrugging, "you're having fun."

You tilt your head with a frown, hand falling to your side. "That isn't what I asked."

He returns your expression, somewhat hesitantly, and you can't remember the last time you've seen him so reluctant. "I just don't want to be the reason you leave early. I saw you smiling while you were dancing and chatting, you looked so ... beautiful."

His voice is careful, like he's trying to maintain his normally cool facade, but there's something heavier to what he's saying that makes it difficult for him to stay calm. "It's not your fault I'm the boring one."

"You're not boring," you say sternly, "and you're my favourite person, nothing's fun for me if you're sitting here sulking alone."

His eyes glance at yours once more before darting to the floor. You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, clearly fighting the urge to admit something. So you soften, bending down and leaning in closer to force him to meet your eye, to see your expression that's pleading him to tell you the truth.

"Be honest with me, Ki."

The nickname seems to finally crack him, and when he talks, it's the tiniest whisper. "Yeah, I kinda hate it here."

"There we go," you coo sweetly, face breaking into a smile as you peck the corner of his lips.

"You're not mad?"

You shrug. "I don't really mind, there are parties like this every night, so it's not like I'm missing much."

He nods slightly, but doesn't move from his chair, so you can tell he's not quite convinced.

"Plus, it's hard to be mad at you when you're sitting here looking like an abandoned puppy." You add, watching as he looks up and lets out a soft laugh, somewhat incredulous, or maybe even offended, at your comment - but really, you're just happy to see him smile.

"I do not," he insists, pushing himself up from the chair so he's towering over you, but there isn't any real bite behind his words and that - the familiar mix of teasing and tenderness - is how you know you have your boyfriend back.

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? All you need is a tiny violin and some rain, and people would be lining up to adopt you."

He groans dramatically as he pulls you in by the waist, burying his face into your neck. "Can we leave now, or are you just going to keep bullying me until I leave by myself?"

"Depends," you smile, "will you admit you were waiting for me to find you?"

He doesn't say anything, just pulls back and looks at you with a smirk, one that's playing coy at being caught in the act - and that's all the answer you need. He lets you pull him towards the door, and back out into the muffled chaos of the party, where you start saying your goodbyes to all the faces you barely remember even talking to.

As you're almost finished, though, he leans in close to your ear and mumbles something, quick and quiet, like another sheepish confession.

"Besides, you looked too good tonight, didn't feel like sharing."

You blink, caught off guard as a small scoff escapes your lips. You turn around just to catch the flicker of a smug smile across his lips, though his ears are turning pink.

"Was that supposed to be smooth?" you ask, tilting your head as the two of you reach the front door.

"Maybe," he shrugs, "did it work?"

You roll your eyes, but press a quick peck to his lips anyway. "You're lucky I love you, you know."

"Oh, trust me, I know." He chuckles softly, humming contentedly as you both step out into the night, cool air brushing against your skin.

You don't say anything, just reach for his hand and intertwine it with yours as you step away from the house party. The sounds of cheers and loud music fade away behind you, and all that's left is the warmth of your boyfriend's hand in yours - and really, you'd take that over watered-down drinks in a solo cup any day.

taglist for niki fics! <333 - @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @charsworld96 @jenjnk @nocturnebite @nodoubtily @teireiii @starniras

[laro80]

THE DAY I MET YOU || Sakura x Reader

(Part 1/?) || Short fanfic

You were standing on one of the busiest streets in the city, surrounded by cafés, local shops, and supermarkets buzzing with life.

Like every day, you were playing your guitar in front of passersby. A small crowd —maybe seven or nine people— had gathered, enjoying the songs you passionately performed, while others walking by dropped coins or bills into the open guitar case at your feet.

Fifty minutes had already gone by. Wow! Surprising, right? Normally, you couldn’t stay there for even half an hour before being interrupted—

“Hey! Get out of here!”

“Agh—! Shit!”

Your stomach dropped. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

One of the nearby shop owners stormed out, clearly furious. Without missing a beat, you packed up your guitar at record speed, slung it over your back, and grabbed the mini amplifier by the strap.

More voices followed. The yelling had drawn attention, and now a few more shopkeepers were poking their heads out to see what was going on. It didn’t take long before they recognized you.

“You again?!”

“That’s enough! Stop right there!”

They yelled angrily, but in the end, none of them chased after you. After all, you were just a high school student full of energy, unlike the elderly shopkeepers who couldn't hope to keep up.

You laughed and stuck your tongue out at them playfully. They never managed to catch you, and the annoyed looks on their faces only made you laugh harder.

As you ran, you passed a fruit stand and, without thinking twice, grabbed an apple mid-sprint. The vendor —a woman— stepped out just in time to catch you.

“Hey! Are you kidding me?!”

You could hear her yelling behind you, but you were already a block away. You laughed again, took a big bite of the apple, and didn’t slow down.

You weren’t looking where you were going when —bam— you bumped shoulders with someone.

Your eyes met his for a second. He looked surprised. So did you.

You twisted slightly as you ran, flashing an apologetic smile over your shoulder.

“Sorry!” you called out. But when you got a good look at him, your eyebrows rose in surprise—he had striking half-white, half-black hair. Unusual. Kinda cool. But you couldn't stop. You turned and kept running.

The boy, however, stood still, looking confused. It wasn’t every day you saw someone running with such agility, carrying a large instrument and an amp. He assumed you were running from something —or someone— but the shouting was no longer audible, so he never got the full story.

Not that he was too worried. You had a mischievous, playful grin on your face. Nobody would’ve guessed you were in real trouble.

Then he looked down and noticed something on the ground: a guitar pick.

It took him a second to recognize it. He crouched down, picked it up, turned it over in his fingers. No doubt — it was yours.

But you were long gone.

His phone buzzed. Normally, he ignored notifications, but he was on his way to meet his friends, so he checked in case anything had changed.

Nire: hiragi-san said ppl been complainin abt some girl playin music on the street n the shop owners r pissed

Nire: she keeps changin spots even tho she knows she's not rlly welcome n she doesn’t even hv a permit

Suo: They told us so we’d know how to handle it tomorrow. We’re not supposed to cause trouble — just try to talk to her. It’s not like she’s harming anyone.

Kiryu: ayy old ppl always overreactin, but w/e lol :(

Kiryu: bet she plays rlly pretty songs tho 💕

Tsugeura: what kinda music u think she plays?? 👀

The half-albino boy, Sakura Haruka, stood there processing the information. He looked thoughtful in the middle of the street, his brows slightly furrowed.

Your face had already popped into his mind.

He started typing, planning to ask more about the girl — if anyone knew what instrument she played. But before he could finish the message, his friends had already changed topics. As expected.

Annoyed, he shut off his phone.

Why the hell did they text so fast?

If you are interested and like my art, follow me on my IG: @/laro_80_

[rumitome]

✎ ᝰ ⌗ OO2 LETTER: modern genshin dr | page OO7

introducing scaramouche aka spiderman

you might find it hard to believe that the friendly neighborhood spiderman is, in reality, a pretentious jerk behind the mask. yeah, the same hero who helps old ladies cross the street? that very same person makes it his life’s mission to get under my skin.

but he wasn’t always like that. when we were kids, he was actually quite kind—gentle even. if you had asked me back then whether i had a crush on him, i probably would’ve said yes. we were close, so close that we even made a pact: if neither of us had found someone by the age of twenty-five, then we would marry each other (his idea btw). he even crafted little paper rings for us which is honestly so sweet of him. i still have mine, tucked safely in my drawer, untouched.

everything changed when i became close with mona. he kinda grew... distant? he started avoiding me and saying really mean things that made my younger self cry. at first, i thought it was just another one of our petty fights—that we’d make up eventually like we always did. but it escalated so badly that even our guardians noticed.

one day, i decided to be the bigger person and make amends, even though i had absolutely no idea why he was acting that way in the first place. but before I could even try, he was gone. he left our town without a word. no goodbye, not even a explanation.

then, six years later, i see him again—in the same class at my uni, no less. but this time, he’s grown more arrogant and confident—completely opposite to the shy, kind boy i knew six years ago. And just when i thought we’d left all that bad blood behind… turns out, he still hates me. in that moment, i asked myself, “what the fuck happened in those six years?”

all i remember is that he became a really famous model—landing brand deals left and right. i see him everywhere: from eating at my favorite restaurant back home to seeing his face on the label of the skincare brand i use. i’m trying not to go insane seeing him on every damn billboard, but of course, his rise to fame makes perfect sense—his mother is the fashion designer i idolized growing up.

his mother is a well-known fashion designer i’ve looked up to for years—i absolutely adore literally everything she designs. i never knew she was scara’s mother, especially since it was always his aunt taking care of him back in our hometown. i never even considered that he might be the son of my favorite designer! maybe thats why he left—to be with her. or maybe he wanted to become a model. or maybe she wanted him to become one. who knows?

and if that wasn’t enough, he’s also the lead guitarist in a band called 5wirl. playing live music for pubs and bars near our uni. like seriously? he’s a model. a fine arts major. a musician. talented in every possible way. is there anything this guy can’t do? honestly, i feel like god really looked at him and said, “let’s give him every damn gift imaginable”… and then made him a total asshole while they’re at it.

and another thing is that… i just don’t get it. i don’t get how someone so arrogant, so insufferably blunt—especially to me—can have such a massive fanbase. he’s sharp-tongued, cruel when he wants to be, and it seems like he alwayswants to be. it’s as if his day doesn’t feel complete unless he’s made me want to scream.

well atleast he has a pretty face… that’s one thing i have to agree with his fanbase… a pretty face to punch, that is.

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[ysrjune]

“ ᯓ SCOTT BARRINGER X TEEN!SON ˖ ֹ੭

a/n: request from @blckberrie 🍒 ,, first part is more about Leo than Scott, but it gets to both of them after that!

How does Leo act when he goes through puberty?

13 • Leo is very awkward and likes to keep to himself. He's often sitting in his room playing video games, painting/drawing, listening to music, or doing homework. He keeps himself busy—he doesn't like to stay still and be lazy unless there really is nothing better to do.

14 • He's not as awkward anymore. He knows how to “act normal” because he's more comfortable in his changing body. He's starting to look exactly like Scott, and he actually takes pride in it. Leo grew up hearing that his father was a good-looking man, so to be told he looks like Scott is an honor. Leo doesn't play football, and he doesn't take much interest in the idea as an extracurricular. Playing it with friends or relatives is fine.

15 • His freshman year of high school isn't as bad as he thought it would be. Scott told him how to get through high school smoothly. Leo seriously thinks his dad is a master mind at this kind of stuff. The 15 year old is actually very smart and gets great grades.

16 • The era of Leo's first girlfriend. He's so embarrassed to mention it to his parents, especially Scott, even though you'd think it would be his mother. No, Scott wants to know everything about this relationship. What the girls name is, why Leo likes her, what she looks like, has she had a boyfriend before, is she a skank?

“Dad!” Leo whines at the dinner table, sitting across from his parents as Scott is asking all these questions. “Whats so wrong with asking if she's a skank? There was a bunch of 'em back when K was tour age.” Scott smirks, knowing he was bothering Leo, but he didn't care. He always bothered Leo. “Scott, you're being annoying.” Leo's mother holds onto his father's forearm. “Thats what dads are supposed to be.” Scott responds.

“To be fair, dad.. Mom says you were pretty annoying before you even became one.”

“You two love to pick on me, dont you? But once the tables turn and it's my turn to have some fun, you get butthurt.” The older blond rolls his eyes and eats the food off his fork. “Look, sport. You just gotta be careful with girls, alright? And dont be getting them preg-”

“OKAY, DAD. JEEZ.” Leo blushes harshly.

17 • He's a carbon copy of his father. Witty, sarcastic, and kind of mean. Lately, he's been spending more time with Scott. They've gotten closer. They really do have the same kind of humor. They go out sometimes and make fun of their appearances or just say really dumb stuff. Leo also loves to argue with Scott to annoy him and get himself out of things.

“Leo, go get me a rag from the garage so I can clean this mess up.” Scott asks as he works on his car. “Get it yourself, man.” Leo rolls his eyes and stays put next to Scott.

Scott looks over at his son with an annoyed look. “You're out here to help me. Not sit on your ass. Get inside and get me a rag, now.”

“I dont even wanna be here in the first place! It's hot, and you didn't give me enough time to put on sunscreen, so now I'm gonna burn. And mom's gonna get pissed about it! All cause of you!”

“Leo just go get me the fucking rag, God damn it! You're such a bum. Go back inside afterwards—I dont wanna see you for the rest of the day. You piss me off.”

Leo came back from the garage with a rag but didn't go back inside like Scott said to. Instead, he was hovering.

“Why are you still out here? Go!” Scott groans, not looking at the teenage son.

“I changed my mind, I wanna spend time with my dear old papa.” Leo curls his finger in Scott's hair. “Im about to give you five across the face, moron. Leave me alone. Go back inside and lather yourself up with sunscreen or something.” Leo, for some reason, starting spinning around with his eyes closed.

“But fatherrrr! I wanna hel—STOPSTOPSTOP IM SORRY!” Leo yelps as he's getting wet by the hose. The cold, cold water caught him off guard. Scott starts laughing and sprays it all over Leo's face and hair. “DAD STOP IT!!” Leo keeps yelling, but honestly, it's his fault for not even attempting to move out of the way.

18 • Prom and Graduation! Scott starts Prom Day off by following Leo around the house and taking pictures of him everywhere—Leo getting out of bed, eating cereal on the couch in his boxers, brushing his teeth, trying on his outfit, and styling his hair. Leo's so mad. Scott is being so annoying. Leo didn't end up going to prom with a girl since he and that girl didn't end up lasting too long. He instead went with a group of buddies. All the boys were in glasses, and they just looked so silly. Again, Scott was taking hundreds of photos. Graduation went the same, basically.

ᯓ ♡ —

“ITS THE THIGGISH RUGGISH BONEEE” Leo yells around the house every few minutes. He's so obsessed with that part of the song. It gets on Scott's nerves how comfortable this kid is singing around the house like that. “I miss when he was too shy to ask how to shave.” Scott complains to his wife as they watch TV in the living room. “Hes always liked singing, Scott.”

“No, he's always liked being an annoying prick.”

“Sounds like someone familiar.” She laughs at Scott's unamused face.

Leo shuts his door when he goes back to his room, but then he turns his music on, using a speaker. Scott HATED when Leo would blast his music. Especially because he wasn't very fond of the type of music that Leo likes to listen to. Scott is hoping that this is a phase. LIVING DEAD GIRL is heard.

“This song again.” Scott throws his head back on the couch. “Is he not sick of this song? He listens to it every day, and you can hardly even understand what the guy is saying!”

ᯓ ♡ —

“Bruh im so HUNGRY.” Leo bursts into his parents' room and flops onto Scott. “Theres food in the fridge, fatty.” Scott replies, changing the TV channel. “I want in-n-out.” Leo says. “Do you have in-n-out money?” Scott shoots back. “Yeah, you have money saved up, dont you?” His mother asks.

“Oh.. hah.. about that money..” Leo says nervously. “Mother fucker I swear if you wasted that shit on something stupid, im gonna beat the hell out of you.” Scott didn't mean it, but he wanted to let Leo know that he really didn't want him to spend money on snacks or anything of the sort when there's some at home.

“I went to the game shop and bought a game.” Leo confesses. “You had 20 dollars. Are you telling me that you spent twenty dollars on a damn game?” Leo didn't want to answer. Scott was intimidating, so he just ignored him. “Ma, do you have money..” He asks. Scott scoffs and pushes Leo off of him. “With your ugly ass..”

ᯓ ♡ —

“I dont like her. She's too nice. She's hiding something.” Scott whispers to his wide with a raised eyebrow as Leo and his girlfriend walk away to go get something in the kitchen. “She gives floozy vibes.” She gasps and elbows Scott. “This is a 16 year old girl you're talking about!”

“What?! I was 16 once, too! And And! There were a bunch of 'em.” He whispers again. Scott takes another look at the girl. “You know what, she sort of looks more like a loser now that I think about it. We're safe, amiga.” Scott smiles. “Literally shut up. I hate you. I wish you left me when I was pregnant.”

“Girl you better check this attitude, I do not like it.” Scott rolls his eyes and shoves his hand to her face with a laugh.

The girl and Leo look back at his parents, and Leo's face is flushed. “Ignore them.. they're weirdos.”

ᯓ ♡ —

“And so then we take this tool and??” Scott asks Leo as they work on teaching Leo how to do an oil change. “Er.. I dont know. I wasn't paying attention. I was watching Crash fight with the neighbors cat.” Crash is Leo's cat. The one he'd had since he was 7.

“Oh my God. Did you forget to take your normal pills?” Scott groans. Normal pills.. Leo introduced Scott to the dream meme, so now he calls Leo's medication for ADHD "normal pills."

“OH MY GOSH!!! I knew I had forgotten something. It was right at the bottom of my nose! I'll be right back, big dawg.” Leo pats Scott's back and goes inside. Scott was fighting demons right now. This kid needs a to-do list, definitely.

ᯓ ♡ —

“GIRL WHY CANT YOU SEE YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE FOR ME? AND IT JUST TEARS MY ASS APART TO KNOW THAT YOU DONT KNOW MY NAAAAAAMMEEE” Leo sings to his mom as she makes dinner. “Who sings that song?” Scott walks in with a few groceries. “Dad, oh my God. How do you not know? Its by D12!”

“Keep it that way.”

She cackles, seeing how Leo's face literally goes: 🤨.. 😐

“HAW-HAW! Good one!” Leo says sarcastically and sits down at the table.

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @gothams-sweetheart @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far @prettiestmini @amiratheangel @blckberrie @literally-izzyy @litt1e-misssunsh1ne @chanellyvstvd

[slvqtore]

⟢ pairing. tony stark x fem! reader. ⟢ summary. all he did was kiss you at a party, not a big deal, right? Well, problem is he forgot about it, all about it. and you? you remembered every second, every word. and now you’re stuck wondering if it meant anything at all. ⟢ wc: 5,2k

tonight was a party, a celebration that tony held for yet another day the avengers had successfully saved. the music was loud, the drinks were endless, and the tower pulsated with energy. the whole avengers had attended, along with some important people you didn't know even existed.

you were standing in the corner, a champagne in your hand as you observed tony from across the room. he was slumped, surrounded by the avengers, downing drinks like they were water as they all laughed like there wasn't a tomorrow. your lips curled into a small but genuine smile, it was rare that they all looked this carefree.

after some time, you decided that you needed some fresh air, and so you made your way toward the balcony. you brought your champagne to your lips, taking a slow sip as you leaned against the railing, eyes drifting over the city below. you hummed, enjoying the moment, as the soft night breeze tingled your skin.

"y/n,"

a sudden voice called out from behind you, though this didn't quite alarm you. you knew that voice. you turned over to steve, who was slowly walking toward you, his hands crossed, concern written all over his face. oh, you didn't like that look. "hey, it's you. is everything alright?"

"it's tony," he sighed. "looks like he's completely wasted," he glanced over his shoulder, and instinctively, you followed his gaze. there he was, tony, sunk deep into the couch with a few of the others, head thrown back in laughter that was way too loud. his shirt was half-untucked, eyes glassy, and he looked like he was on the verge of sliding right off the cushions. you knew he was drunk, but not this drunk.

"oh, god," you muttered under your breath. "yeah, it's pretty bad. i was wondering if you could escort him back to his room? we all tried, but he just wouldn't listen."

"well, if you say so." you sighed, steve muttering a quick 'thank you' before you made your way to tony, your heels clicking with every step you took. he was still sunk into the couch, now leaning against sam's shoulder, laughing at something that didn't even sound like a joke. "tony," you called softly once you were close enough. his head lulled lazily in your direction. at first, a flicker of confusion crossed his face. then recognition. then that same crooked, drunk smile.

"y/n, honey, it's you! i—i waited all night, where have you been?" he slurred, his eyes locked into yours. you could already feel the heat creeping up to your face, and you weren't sure whether it's caused from embarrassment, or because you're simply flustered at the sudden nickname. either way, you cleared your throat, not wanting to cause such an awkward and embarrassing scene.

"okay, that's enough of this," you grabbed the whiskey he was holding, putting it aside before you wrapped your arms around his shoulder. "let's get you some water." but before you could even start moving, he pulled back slightly, not wanting to move an inch as his eyebrows furrowed. "whoa, whoa, hold on. why are we leaving again? you just got here." he protested, backing up from you, almost tripping but he immediately caught himself. you sighed, rolling your eyes. "seriously, tony? you're completely wasted, let's go."

you didn't want to argue any further, already feeling embarrassed having to do this in front of the avengers. without waiting another second, you grabbed his arm more firmly this time and started pulling him toward the hallway. "whoa—okay, who gave you permission to manhandle me? this feels illegal," he protested as you dragged him, stumbling a bit but not exactly resisting.

you didn't even bother replying as you continued tugging him away, ignoring the amused glances from the rest of the team. just as you reached the doorway, he twisted around, walking backward like a kid being dragged out of a party.

"i'll be back!" he called out dramatically to the others, waving with a half-empty grin. "don't do anything fun without me!" steve shook his head. sam snorted.

you sighed. "tony, shut up and walk."

by the time you'd finally managed to get him out of the room, the sound of laughter and music had faded into a muffled blur behind you, leaving just the two of you.

"is it just me, or are you always this ridiculously gorgeous?" you rolled your eyes, although that didn't stop the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.  "oh, please." you muttered, adjusting your grip on his arm as the two of you made your way down the dim hallway. he grinned, clearly pleased with himself, eyes glinting mischievously under the low light.

"seriously though, has anyone told you how beautiful your eyes are? 'cause—" you groaned, smacking his head pretty lightly before he mumbled a quick 'ouch.' as much as you wanted to hear more, you didn't want him to continue. it would only feed into your delusion, making your not so tiny crush on him even worse. "okay, whatever game you're playing tony, stop it." your tone was firm.

he blinked, hand pressed to his chest like you'd wounded him. "game? excuse me, this is not a game. this is heartfelt emotional honesty, which, by the way, is very rare coming from me" you sighed. "you're drunk, tony. you don't mean any of that." even though you knew, that whatever word came out his mouth was bullshit, a part of you still wanted him to mean it. and that made your chest tighten.

"well, you know what they say—drunk words, sober thoughts."

you scoffed, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way your chest clenched at every beating second. "yeah? and you're full of both right now. cut the bullshit, we all know you're going to go sleep with 5 random girls tomorrow. i'm probably just one of your toys that you play with everyday." every word that came out of your mouth stung, your jaw tightened, as your heart ached. his brows knitted, eyes full of worry once he saw a flicker of almost what looked like pain.

"you really think i see you that way? god, you think i look at someone the way i look at you? you think i feel like this with anyone else?" your breath hitched when he stepped closer, stumbling a bit but managed. you could feel his breath on you, and suddenly your lungs stopped working, as if you forgot how to breathe.

"y/n, sweetheart, you're special, you mean the world to me. i—i know i shouldn't, but i have these feelings for you that i can't seem to push away no matter how hard i tried. look, i know that i could be a dick sometimes, but i truly mean it." your lips parted slightly, caught between a gasp and a sob, but no sound came out. you stared up at him, your eyes wide as your heart started to hammer. never in your life would you expect tony out of all people pour his heart out to you like this.

you wanted to respond, tell him how you felt. but no, he's tony, and you knew him well enough. he flirts with different girls everyday to the point you can't even count them with your own fingers. he's lying, whatever he's trying to do here, you weren't going to give in. your brows furrowed, arms crossed as you stepped backwards, not wanting to be even near him. "no, you're just being the casual flirt. again, you're drunk, tony. we've made it to your room, so, i'm off. goodnight."

you turned to leave, but before you could take another step, tony crossed the space between you in a blur. his hand gently caught your wrist—not hard, not demanding, it was almost as if he was pleading. his voice was low. "then let me prove it."

and before you could ask what he meant, he leaned in, and kissed you. it wasn't rushed or messy like you expected from someone like him. no, it was slow. gentle. careful. his lips tasted faintly of whiskey and something unexplainably him, something that made your knees go weak. your body tensed, heart pounding so violently you were sure he could feel it, but you didn't pull away.

you couldn't

because in that moment, you had forgotten everything, and you didn't care, the world blurred around you. it was just you and him.

"god, you're the most beautiful woman i've ever met, did you know that?" he whispered against your lips, pausing for a moment as he moved a strand of hair from your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin. you could feel your face burned as you blushed, heart fluttering just by the way he looked at you. "shit, you drive me crazy." he chuckled lowly, slowly caressing your face with a soft touch as you let out a soft breath, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips. it was crazy how he had you hooked despite being a drunk-head.

"i should.. probably head back." you paused as you looked around for some water, until your eyes landed on one. "here, uh, take some water before you sleep." you grabbed a cup of water from a nearby desk before handing it over to him. "uh, yeah, so—i guess i'm gonna go? thanks by the way, for the water. g'night, sweetheart." he dramatically bowed over to you, a sweet yet over the top gesture of respect that made you roll your eyes, but your smile betrayed you.

"dork," you murmured under your breath, trying, and failing to keep your cool, resulting a lopsided grin coming from him. you turned away, cheeks still burning, and walked away from his room. the second you heard the door close behind you, you bit back the ridiculous grin threatening to take over your face.

what on earth just happened?

you started walking to your room, but every few steps, you caught yourself smiling like an idiot, hand brushing over your lips like you were trying to convince yourself that it really happened.

did you seriously just kiss tony?

and once you were in your room, you immediately flopped onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow, squealing silently into it like a lovesick teenager. your heart was still racing. your face was hot. you turned from side to side, kicking your legs. your mind was only filled with him. his voice. his eyes. the way he said your name. and that kiss. god, how were you ever supposed to sleep now?

your eyes didn't even rest the entire night, you were up all night. you felt like you were on cloud-nine. you couldn't wait to see him tomorrow, to see how everyone would react on the two of you being together.

the second your clock hit 7:00, you immediately did your usual morning routine; take a shower, brush your teeth, do your skincare, your makeup, your hair, and lastly getting ready for your outfit. everyone always got up at around 7:00, it was more of a mutual agreement, none of you actually made schedules or rules regarding the time you had to wake up in, it just suddenly became a thing. and of course, every morning, everyone gathers in the kitchen for breakfast.

you tried to do your makeup and hair a lot better today, spending more time onto it as well as putting more effort into it. and your outfit? you spent over 20 minutes digging onto your closet, searching for your best outfit possible. you usually never cared about these things—usually only having to spend around 10 minutes to get ready overall, but today, you wanted to look perfect.

you checked yourself out one last time, applying a tiny bit of liptint, dabbing it on your plump lips before fixing your hair—again, for the millionth time. "okay, i look alright." you murmured, turning around to exit your room. your heart was pounding like crazy, head spinning endlessly as countless thoughts rushed over to your head. you were a nervous wreck. each step felt heavier as you made your way to the kitchen. excited, yet afraid to see him. you inhaled deeply, attempting to calm yourself down.

you turned the corner, and there he was, sitting on the barstool alone eating cereal. "hey," you gave him a tiny-awkward wave. "hey, up so early?" you nodded, tucking a hair behind your ear as you sat beside him. "guess everyone's running late on breakfast." he said, spoon halfway to his mouth. you nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. he didn't look at you. just kept chewing.

"um—so, about last night..?" he blinked, confusion written all over his face. "last night? oh, yeah it was a blast! got a bunch of chicks to drooling all over me last night. hell, i even managed to steal a kiss on one of them!" you felt your stomach drop as your body froze. your lips parted, but no sound came out. you wanted to say more, you do—but you couldn't.

seeing your sudden change in demeanor, his expression quickly turned into a worried one, but before he could even say or ask anything, you quickly got up and walked your way out of the room. He just sat there, confused, watching you suddenly walk off. You kept walking, your pace quick and uneven, heart thundering in your chest as the hallway blurred around you.

you ran a hand through your hair, taking deep breaths in order to calm yourself down. you silently cursed yourself, your mind still going crazy it might even explode. "oh, god.. why did i even believe such a thing?" you murmured to yourself.

stupid. that was all you felt. you were stupid enough to think that tony actually had feelings for you—that he loved you. stupid enough to think that whatever shit he said was sober thoughts. you couldn't even blame him, he was drunk and you knew who he was, yet you let yourself believe in his foolish lies. you only had yourself to blame.

you spent the whole day acting as if tony didn't exist. every time he'd wave at you or even just looked your way, you'd look away, sometimes even walking away. he was left confused, and hurt. he couldn't quite describe the way he felt, but all he knew was that everytime you acted this way toward him, his heart dropped.

though, he figured maybe you felt tired today, or maybe you had a bad day is all. he wanted to ask you about it, he wanted to know what was going in your mind, but he figured you needed some time alone, so he let you be.

that night, you couldn't sleep at all. you were tossing and turning, the moment kept replaying in your head, the way he caressed you, held you, how his lips felt against yours. you brushed your fingers across your lips, still able to feel the lingering warmth of his kiss. how can he forget what happened that day? people don't just go and kiss someone like that and forget about it the next day. it felt too real to you.

four years. that's how long you've loved him. you thought that the two of you shared some special connection, but turns out it was just you all along. to him, you were just one of his 'chicks' that he managed to steal a kiss that night. you felt the sadness and anger bubbling up your chest, you wanted to scream at him, but at the same time all you wanted to be was in his arms.

the next morning came faster than you wanted it to. you did your usual routine; got up, took a shower, brushed your teeth, did your skincare, hair, makeup, outfit, and of course, headed toward breakfast. you prayed endlessly that he wasn't there.

but of course, there he was, sitting at the table across steve as the two of them talked about something you didn't bother to care about. your steps faltered for a moment, taking a deep breath before walking in. you caught steve's eye first, his expression softening the second he saw you. you gave him a small smile.

but tony? you didn't even look at him. not a glance. not a smile. you just walked right past him, grabbed a bowl of cereal and a coffee, and made your way out. you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. steve's smile slowly faded as he watched you all but run back to your room. he sensed like something was wrong, never did you spend breakfast in your room. and the way you ignored tony, it was odd. he already knew about your not so tiny crush on tony, so you ignoring him was very odd.

he turned to tony, who was still holding his mug mid-sip, clearly noticing the tension too but saying nothing. "okay, what was that?" he crossed his arms,  voice low, suddenly getting serious. "did you do anything to her?" his tone wasn't aggressive, but it was firm—protective. if tony ever laid his fingers on you, he won't hesitate to fight tony.

tony shrugged. "uh—yeah. let's not jump into conclusions now, i didn't do anything to her." he paused briefly. "not that i know of." he lifted both of his arms up, acting as if he had just surrendered. steve exhaled, his gaze lingered on the hallway you'd just disappeared down, brows knitting with quiet concern. he had the urge to just knock on your door, asking you what's wrong, but he knew better. if you really wanted to, you would've already told him, but you didn't.

you tried your best to distract yourself from tony today, you reminded yourself that you weren't going to let a boy to just ruin your happiness, it was pathetic. you spent the whole day with natasha and wanda, and to be honest, you've never felt better. spending the day with them felt like a medicine, your mind didn't even think about him once.

the day felt like a blue, an hour ago you were laughing your ass off with natasha, and the next you were in your bed. you were alone again. alone with your own thoughts. this obviously didn't help. and just like that, your peace was shattered. your thoughts were immediately clouded with tony, again. the questions came crawling back in like poison. did that kiss really mean nothing? what if he actually liked you? but what if he sees you nothing more than just a friend?

your chest tightened with the need to know. the uncertainty was suffocating. you had to ask him, to talk to him. even if it destroyed you, even if the answer hurt, at least it would be honest. you didn't even know what came over you, but suddenly you found yourself heading toward his room. you stopped mid-track, hesitating for a moment. you stood in the hallway, heart racing, fists clenched at your sides. your mind was screaming at you, what if you're just making a fool of yourself again? what if this whole thing was a mistake?

you contemplated whether or not this was even worth it. whether hearing the truth would bring peace or just rip you apart all over again.

you shook your head, pushing away all negative thoughts before you decided to change your mind. you slowly approached the door, but before you could grip the doorknob, you noticed that the door was opened slightly, just enough to reveal a glimpse of his room. your heart thudded in your chest. you knew you shouldn't. you knew better. but something inside you—curiosity, desperation, pain, made you lean forward. you peaked through.

you couldn't see him, but you could hear muffled sounds and soft giggles that sounded like a woman. your breath became unsteady as your heart picked up its pace. your stomach twisted with dread.

suddenly, the door creaked, just slightly. just enough for you to see what's inside. and there he was, shirtless, with a girl straddling his lap, her hands on his hair, her lips on his like they'd done this a thousand times before. your heart dropped seeing this. you could already feel a lump in your throat start to form as your chest tightened with something sharp and heavy, something you couldn't even name.

you backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound. every part of you was screaming to barge in and shout at him, but your heart stayed behind, frozen just outside his door. you swallowed hard, your throat dry, vision blurring. with a heavy heart, you turned and walked down the hallway, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

the second you closed the door behind you, you immediately collapsed onto your bed, silent sobs escaped your lips as tears ran down your cheeks. your heart clenched, replaying every moment, every second. from the moment he confessed, kissed you, then proceeding to forget all about it and sleep with other girls. oh, why did it have to be him? out of everyone, it just had to be tony stark.

you tried to convince yourself that he wasn't worth it, he was nothing but a jerk who didn't matter—that he didn't matter. but, truth was, he does matter. and it hurt. so much more than you anticipated. yes, you knew this outcome would be coming, but little did you know it hurt this much.

your little break-down was suddenly interrupted when a knock came through the door, catching you by surprise. "just a sec!" you quickly wiped your tears, rushing toward the door as you opened it slowly to reveal none other than steve. you were rather surprised to see steve, but you felt glad nonetheless. he had been walking down the hallway when he heard your quiet, broken sobs muffled behind the closed door, and he didn't waste any second to come check up on you.

"hey," you gave him an awkward smile, hoping he couldn't see right through you. "are you okay?" he asked softly, worry lacing in his voice. the moment you heard those words come out of his mouth, you couldn't hold it anymore. you let out a shaky breath as tears started to well up over again. "no." your voice cracked. his brows furrowed, and his heart broke seeing you like this. without thinking twice, he moved closer, wrapping his arms around you again, this time pulling you into a firmer, more protective hold.

you clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely. "i saw him," you finally choked out. "with someone else. in his room." he tensed, jaw tightening. "the night at the party.. he kissed me," you whispered against his chest. "then he just forgot about it." you felt his hand gently rub small circles on your back, a silent reassurance that he was still there. "i feel stupid and pathetic." hearing this, he shook your head, pulling back from the hug, his eyes softening when he met yours.

"you're not stupid y/n, he's just.. difficult and confusing sometimes," his voice was gentle. you gave a hollow laugh, wiping the corner of your eye. "that's one way to put it."

and the rest of the night went with him continuing to listen to your story, comforting you in every way possible as you poured your heart out, not leaving a single detail to miss. you genuinely felt relieved having a friend to talk to about your boy problems, none of the team knew about it, well except for steve.

you hadn't spoken a single word to tony this past week after that night. you avoided him at any cost. he tried, countless times to get you talking, but you'd ignore him every time, and that frustrated him.

that morning, you were walking down the hallway, dressed a little nicer than usual. your hair was curled perfectly while as your makeup was flawless. you looked breathtaking. tony caught sight of you from the end of the corridor, eyes narrowing slightly. his gaze swept over you once, then again, slower this time. "hey," he stepped right in front of you, brows lifting. "and where on earth are you going out looking like that?" you didn't answer, you just rolled your eyes before stepping aside, walking past him.

"okay, that's enough." he muttered, striding over and stopping directly in your path. his hand reached out to gently grab your arm, halting your movement. "what is this game you're playing with me huh? why are you avoiding me?" his voice was low, tense. whatever you're doing, he's had enough. you pretending like he didn't exist made him go crazy. he couldn't sleep for days, wondering what it is that he's done to make you act this way.

"oh, trust me i'm not playing any game, tony." the way you said his name sent a shiver down his spine. "what did i do? you're being selfish acting this way, i deserve an explanation." you scoffed as you crossed your arms, jaw clenching. "me? selfish?" you let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. "oh, go ahead, call me selfish. at least i didn't kiss someone and forget it about the next day while i'm busying sleeping with other girls." your voice shaking with a mix of hurt and fury, barely keeping it together.

his stomach dropped as his body froze. there was a brief moment of silence, he was trying to take in what you had just said. his lips parted a few times, but nothing came out. "and what was i again?" you asked, tone dripping with sarcasm as you tapped your index finger against your cheek like you were deep in thought. "oh, right. i'm that chick you managed to steal a kiss from last night." you smiled bitterly. you were fuming with anger, but still, your chest tightened, every word that came out of your mouth felt like a kick in the stomach.

then it hit him. all of the memories came flooding back. "i—i didn't mean it like that.. i remember now, i do." he stammered, voice cracking, his gaze fixated on you. his chest rose and fell unevenly, like the realization had knocked the air right out of him. he felt so stupid, but mostly guilty. how could he have forgotten something like that? it all made sense to him now. the way you suddenly dolled up the day after, the way you had ignored him this past week, it all adds up. he hurt you in the worst way possible, and he could never forgive himself for that.

"i don't care tony, it doesn't matter now. i'm going to be late for my date, so if you don't mind i'm off." you tried to walk past him, but again, he gripped your arms fast and strong enough to hold you back. you groaned in annoyance. seriously, now he's pretending to care? unbelievable. "it matters. don't lie to yourself, we both know it matters. what i said, and did that night, i meant it. i meant every word i have said y/n. that kiss wasn't a mistake, it never was."

you stared at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling a little too fast. you hated how your heart clenched at his words. hated how sincere he looked now, like he just now decided to show up with all this emotion he should've brought a week ago. "then what about that girl you slept with last week? i don't believe you. every word that comes out of your mouth is bullshit, we both know that." you spat, eyes narrowing. his jaw tensed, and for a second, he didn't say anything.

"look, that was nothing. she was merely just a distraction, i don't feel anything for her." you stared at him, jaw clenched, blinking like your brain needed a second to process how absurd that sounded. you scoffed, shaking your head with a dry, humorless laugh. "a distraction?" you repeated. "god, do you even hear yourself?" he opened his mouth, but you cut him off, stepping closer now, just enough for him to see the pain behind your anger.

"then how do i know your feelings for me are real, huh?" you demanded. "how do i know i'm not just another one of your chicks you toy with when you're bored or scared or lonely?" he froze, the air between you thick with silence.

"i'm sorry, i really am. i admit that i could be a dick, but know that my feelings for you is real." his hands found their way to the sides of your face, fingers trembling slightly as they cupped your cheeks with such gentleness it made your heart ache. you wanted to back away, tell him to go to hell, but you couldn't bring yourself to. instead, you remained still, enjoying his touch. it damned you. you loved this man and he was your weakness.

"then prove it." you whispered. his eyes searched yours like he was making sure you meant it. and when you didn't move, he took it as a 'yes' and leaned in. his lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, hesitant, almost scared. but the second you kissed him back, it deepened, desperate and messy. his hands slid back into your hair as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. and in that kiss, nothing else existed. it was just you and him.

when you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, breath tangled. "i love you, and i'm sorry." he whispered, as his thumbs brushed your cheeks, wiping away the tears you didn't even realize had fallen. you smiled softly. "you're right about one thing," he raised a brow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"oh, yeah? what is it?" you pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, gleaming with the tiniest spark of amusement. "you really are a dick." he blinked, then let out a short, breathy laugh. "wow. romantic. really glad i poured my heart out for that one." you couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. somehow, all of the pain, the anger, the ache, it all seemed to dissolve the moment you were in his arms.

[manias-wordcount]

May I pls request something for Spike from Cowboy Bebop? Like maybe something happens to you while you’re both doing a mission and he becomes more protective of you, or someone is hitting on you and he becomes jealous

What Haunts the Bar (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝘁 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘀!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗴𝘂𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗲 - 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @skylardarling @sachimz @roronoaism @itzmymelody @myfangirlfanfiction @24hour-xixi

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You noticed the guy way before he did.

In Spike’s mind, the dude wasn’t supposed to be anyone of importance. The man blended in with the crowd almost too well. In fact, Spike’s not even sure if he looked at him before you said something. After all, tons of people come to this particular bar every night. The place is a dive, yeah. But the music isn’t too loud. The company is great. The liquor is cheap. And the bartenders actually know how to make a pour a proper drink with just a name. The place is nothing special, but it’s decent. 

Not to mention, it's a good source for information on bounties hiding on this side of the planet, at least. And when the bargirl who he helped out with a job a couple years back is working behind the counter? It becomes an even better source of information. 

The point is that this place is nothing special to him despite all his visits over his career of being a bounty hunter. It’s a means to an end when he's just trying to make some cash. In a way, it’s almost comforting just how normal this place is. Like, it’s something he could return to if all else fails. If one day, he had given up on life completely, he could see himself here- wasting away his days with the rest of the locals. Drinking cheap booze. Talking shit about his co-workers and neighbors. Living life without a care in the world.

But you’re a little different with him. 

It’s your first time here and Spike didn’t really mind taking you with him this time around. His usual bargirl tends not to work on these days and he figured it wouldn’t help to have someone with a pretty face do all the talking instead tonight of him just trying to grill whatever sorry guy was behind the counter for that night. Besides, you’ve been with the Bebop long enough for him to trust you with all his secrets. So it’s about time he let you in on this one as well.

But tonight, new information was sacre- even with a few shiny, expensive little “reminders” to jog the bartender’s mind. It didn’t take him long to realize that the trail he’d been following had gone cold and that he wasn’t going to find anything useful here. Disappointing, but not surprising. Still, he had the bartender top off his Prairie Oyster and whatever was in your glass before putting it all on his tab. It was the very least he could do for having you get all dolled up and dragged out here for not even a crumb’s worth of a lead.

Only, you didn’t touch your drink.

It was different. It was odd, even. The two of you have gone drinking together. He knows you have a bad habit of gulping down whatever is put in front of you- especially whenever you get the idea in your head that he’ll start stealing sips from your glass if you’re not too careful. That’s what you did with your first drink here too. But now?

Now you’re eyeing it carefully on the counter. Stirring it constantly with the tiny little straw that sat on the edge of the rim. Some of the ice had already melted, but you don’t seem to notice. You don’t seem to even care. But Spike noticed. He noticed a lot about you tonight. 

Including the fact that the two of you have been here for an hour, but you’re still sitting right by his side. 

This is different. This is more than just not feeling the atmosphere of the bar. You’re a big girl, after all. You can handle yourself. You’ve shown him time and time again that you can in the past. But you’re still hanging close to him. Closer than usual. You’d still smile and laugh at the jokes that strangers would say to you from their own little barstools. But the you he knows would have made a few rounds about the room already. Probably would have flirted your way into a few more cocktails. Probably would have had a few offers to take you home at this point. He knows he would have tried to toss his hat in the ring if he got the chance to talk to a stranger as pretty as you for more than a second.

But none of that was happening right now. And that was starting to be concerning. Because the you that he knows wouldn’t be like this. You that he knows wouldn’t be this timid- this scared of a threat that he can’t even see. And not knowing the dangers? Not knowing the enemy? Well, any man in his right mind would hate that. 

Especially if it concerns you.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” He leans over and whispers in your ear the first chance he gets. It happens the moment there’s a lull in the conversation you were having with an older woman two barstools down to your left. Your eyes turn him suddenly- and they’re wide and full of shock at being confronted. As if you really thought he wouldn’t be able to read you by now.

“Nothing’s wrong,” You tell him, and for a second a small smile graces your face as you shake your head for further emphasis. It’s the most unbelievable thing he’s ever seen from you and the fact that you’re trying something so stupid out on him makes him more mad than he honestly should be. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

But then your bottom lip quivers. And your eyes dart to the side- looking off in a direction he’s only vaguely noticed you paying so much attention to- and there’s a little bit of fear still left in them by the time your attention is back on him. Like you want something to go away. Like you don’t want him asking about it. Like you don’t want to be thinking about it.

And suddenly, he remembers that there are more important things than his pride: you.

“Yeah, and I was born yesterday,” He quips right back sarcastically before leaning in a little closer and dropping his voice even lower- trying to prove to you just how serious he was. Right now, the two of you are supposed to be a team. Hell, even if you weren’t on a job right now, you’d still be one of his crew. And he can’t protect you if you don’t tell him what’s wrong. And he’d be damned if he lost another person he cares about in this life of his. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You shiver as his lips make contact with the skin of your ear, but you ultimately deflate in your seat. Almost instantly, you lean back into Spike and let out a labored breath. He doesn’t waste a second before wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into his side as best as he can from his own barstool. And for a moment, you send him a grateful look. One that’s soft and sweet and completely unlike the barhopping heartbreaker he met all those months ago.

But then you seem to remember when you are, and your expression darkened. No more soft and sweet. No more confident and powerful. Just the scared little thing sitting next to him at the bar. Waiting for a hero to swoop in and do something to save you. 

Waiting for him to swoop in and do something to save you.

“That guy…” You begin, your voice quieter and shakier than he thought possible from you. At the same time, your eyes flicker over to the same direction you’ve been peering at this entire time. Your lip quivers again. And your fingers, now balled up at your sides, start to tremble. You’ve been carrying a heavy weight around all this time, haven’t you? “He’s…”

Spike follow your gaze to a corner of the room- one that’s a bit more barren than most. And sure enough, there’s a guy in the corner. Sitting all alone at a solitary high table with a pile of open and empty beers stacking all around him. And the guy’s eyes? They’re trained entirely on you.

The dead look on the creep’s face leaves a sour taste in Spike’s mouth. The man looks on and at you as if Spike isn’t even there. As if no one else was here. Since Spike landed his eyes on the dude, he found that the man hardly blinks whenever looking at you. In fact, he never once looked away- even as you turned your back to the dude and tried to face forward to ignore the burning feeling of being watched. And honestly? It’s both a miracle and a mistake that Spike hadn’t caught onto this sooner. Because if he had known? If he had realized? 

He would have never put you in this position in the first place.

“Know him?” Spike presses you for more information the second he turns his own gaze back to you, even though he can already imagine the answer. Sure enough, your nod of confirmation doesn’t surprise him one bit. He squeezes your side in an effort to comfort you, though his mind is starting to trail elsewhere now that a threat has been identified. 

“Not anymore, but I…” You finally admit honestly, after a few prolonged seconds of silence. Your voice is soft and melancholic as you were just starting to remember something fondly. But then your hands begin to tremble again as you try to find the right words to say next. The right words to explain your situation. Your history. “But I…”

But Spike doesn’t care about any of that. 

“I see…thank you for telling me, sweetheart.”

Because your reaction- your fear, alone tells Spike all he needs to know right now. He knows what it’s like to walk away from a bad situation. He knows what it’s like to live in fear. He does it every single day. So whatever happened to you in the past is the past. But whatever is happening right now is real, and alive, and just behind you. Terrifying you in real-time. So if he doesn’t take the chance now. So if he doesn’t kill it now?

“I’ll go ahead and take care of this. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

Then he’ll have to live with the guilt of being no better than the very thing you ran away from.

[mifunebooty]

Film noirs when they cast men who were the pretty boys of the 1930s: what if we fuck him up

[ugartecoco]

a common occurrence developing rn is me mumbling 'you dont have to gif this you dont have to post this' under my breath over and over while watching a ruben press conference

[keeps-ache]

sour apricots and loud floor fans. it's almost summer :D

[kitteninabunker]

reupload ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) cw : breedinggggggg, pet names, creampie

husband!toji has never gotten the pleasure of seeing his beautiful wife pregnant with his child, it's a crime honestly.

toji has been married to you for years now, he's seen how good you are with kids and how much they loved you in return. you were already the stepmother to his moody teenage son, and if we're being honest, he wasn't very fond of children.

they were gross, sticky, and expensive.

he learned his lesson with megumi and quickly found out he hated the baby phase of parenthood whenever megumi would have accidents in public, but he'd be lying if he said he never wanted to have anymore kids, especially with you.

visions of your swollen belly carrying his child popping up his head always drove him crazy, he’s never talked about staring a family with you, it was all a sick fantasy in reality.

and tonight he had enough of holding back, he was gonna fuck a baby into you.

his cock slams into you from behind, his red tip bruising your cervix as he pulls his hips back and thrusts them forward against your ass. propping a leg up onto the bed, toji pushed your face into the pillow with his right hand on your belly so he could feel his dick bulging through you. "feel that, princess? daddy's gonna breed you until you give him another baby."

the girth of his fat cock stretching your wet, gummy walls apart was the thing that made your brain turn into mush.

the only thing you could do was lay there and take it, tears burning in your eyes with your ass in the air like an animal in heat. it felt like toji wanted to fuck you through the mattress, you could smell his musky scent on the pillow made the walls of your cunt clench around him, forcing a low and guttural groan out of him.

"that's it, taking that dick like the good slut i trained you to be". toji hissed into your ear, soft moans muffling through the fabric of the pillow as you screamed his name. he cuffed your hair into a ponytail, pulling your head back to stare down you.

you stared back at him through a teary gaze, curling your bottom lip into your mouth as you furrowed your brows. "i-i haven't taken... fuck... the pill." you tried to speak through moans, every thrust of toji's hips never failed to make you whimper, and those soft, sweet noises were music to his ears.

"i know baby, we've got to give megumi a little brother or sister." the tip of toji's dick kissed your cervix with each roll of his hips, his hand moved from your lower belly down to your clit to rub circles around it with your hair still held tightly in his grip. toji loved you as his wife, but he made sure to fuck you like a cheap whore in the bedroom.

"s...sisterrr?" your words were slurring by this point, you were tapped out but toji kept fucking you as he moved his hands to the sides of your hips, squeezing the thick flesh and pressed you down into the bed so he could fuck you even deeper.

"yes, babydoll." toji groaned, "i'm gonna fuck a little girl or boy into your pretty little womb, is that okay with you?" drool coated one side of your face as you were laying there, getting absolutely wrecked by your husband and he and the audacity to ask you rhetorical questions.

he kept pushing his pulsing cock into you inch by inch, deliciously stretching you out further and beyond your limits. for a split second, toji backed out of you, only to flip you over onto your back and pressed your knees up to your chest where he could enter your wet slit with ease again.

the walls of your cunt clenched around him again, welcoming him back inside of you as they molded to his shape. the angle toji held you at made it all the more difficult to keep yourself together as his red tip bruised your cervix with the perfect amount of pressure.

toji's thrust started to get slower as he held the back of your legs together with one hand, pressing his dick as far as it would go inside of you as he released a load of his cum inside of your slit.

you could feel your cervix opening a little as toji's cum filled your pussy, he pulled out to watch his white cum spilling out of your pretty little slit. he was proud of his work, he leaned towards your pussy and started to suck a little on your clit.

gasping and tensing up a little, you ran your fingers through toji's black hair gently as he cleaned up his mess. "how does it feel knowing you're gonna be a mommy?" toji asked you as he ate you out, his deep voice vibrating on your pussy.

"it feels good, i'm happy we're gonna start our own family."

[followmybadreligion]

thinking about getting a little too drunk w husband!simon…

he’s already a super possessive guy, but your drunken antics are only making it ten times worse.

sure, coming to the bar was his idea. it was only fair, after such a long week at work, that he got to have a nice dinner on the town and a few beers shortly after. even better that he got to do it with his pretty fucking wife, you know?

yeah, he watched you slip into the tightest, smallest dress you had, curl your hair into pretty little coils, and push and pull at everything else out of place. he saw the too tall black pumps you choose— the one’s he got you for your anniversary that make your legs look model-length long. he even saw the way your black lace bralette played peek-a-boo along your dress’s neckline.

all of it only made him more excited.

getting to show you off on the town? his sweet, sexy little woman all done-up and pretty, hanging off his arm like his little trophy? god, he was practically hard before you two could reach the front door.

the second that liquor hit your system, though, was the second all hell broke loose.

at this point in the night, you’re long past the idea of sitting pretty, eating your food, and posing for pictures. now, you’re feeling good. a little tipsy, or maybe even drunk. all the shyness or docile little feelings from the beginning of the night are gone.

now, you wanna dance. you wanna throw your arms up and sway with the other bar-goers, and why shouldn’t you be able to?

you didn’t mind the way your dress rode up your thighs, giving the wrong people an eyeful of your goods. you hadn’t noticed the men who’d run their hands over you, every so often passing by with their crotch just a little too close to your ass. all you were focused on was the music, how good you felt, and when your next shot was coming.

if only you had paid attention to the damn near menacing stare simon had you under. something that rivaled a madman’s with its intensity.

he’d held back for the first few songs, letting the angel on his shoulder telling him to ease up guide him. sure, he still stood around like an unamused body guard, sending glares to the gawking men and buying your drinks whenever you asked. maybe occasionally he’d get a cute picture or video of you too. that was just what came with the simon o’riley type though.

it wasn’t until you got to the flirty territory, grinding your ass into him with the music or kissing him with a little too much tongue, that he decided to pull the plug.

and god, did you always give him attitude for it.

“i’m not ready to leave, simon,” you’d whine, eyes glossed over and face screwed up in that cute little way you only do when you’re aggravated.

“i want another drink,” but you’re slurring and stumbling already.

“just keep kissing on me, baby,” you protest as he grabs your discarded shoes and purse and starts leading you towards the exit.

he’s sweet with you at first, given how drunk and cute you truly are. sure, you may have triggered his possessiveness early, but you’re batting your eyelashes up at him and clinging onto him for dear life. how could he not talk to you softly? how could he not kiss you back as he tugged your dress back down?

“it’s alright, lovie. let’s get home and i’ll take such good care of you.”

you start trying to fight him though and you’ll see how thin his patience truly is.

doing things out of spite? pulling his hands away from you while he’s trying to guide you down the street? arguing with him through your half-coherent sentences? cursing him under your breath just loud enough that he can hear it?

you’re getting yourself in trouble and you’re too drunk to know it.

he was prepared to let your little outbursts slide. wouldn’t hold it against you and still keep his plans straight for the night.

after all you’d done, he was still gonna get you home, slip off those stockings and undo those zippers. dedicate the rest of the night to making you feel all good like how you’d begging him too.

but you just can’t keep that pretty little mouth shut, can you?

“don’t make it worse for yourself.” he’d warn, grabbing your face from its resting place against his passenger-side window, “you’ve already fucked up enough as is, yeah?”

his voice is gruff and his jaw is set, but his eyes don’t leave yours for a second.

you’ll be making it up to him all night long, and he’s gonna be anything but nice now ;)

[eraserbread]

there's nothing your husband, nanami, loves more than watching you cook.

he enjoys the way you get into it, crinkling your brow as you multitask from nursing your sauce to peeling your vegetables. he just loves everything you love, including your stupid, smutty tv shows and perpetually sad music.

if you carved a hole in his chest, you'd probably just see... you. every part that encaptures your soul.

tonight, you're cooking for him again wearing a matching pajama set you know he loves. you're wearing it as he slugs back in from work, frustration brewing and rising above his head like a spell. his shoulders are so heavy that it's palpable. you drop the knife in your hands.

"oh, kento." you purr, approaching him with your arms outstretched. in a single move, he drops his glasses and loosens his tie, ready for you to dote on fully. "I'm sorry you had a bad day."

"you're making something good?" he puts on a millisecond smile for you, closing his big hands across your back. the air around you smells like home, and you feel like it. soft to the touch and packed full of comfort and ease. it's why nanami married you -- there's no pain or adversity within these four walls. that's only a work thing.

"your favorite, f-

he chuckles, cutting you off from the tangent he knows you'll take him on. "I don't see you laid out on that stove."

"-ken!" you slap both hands across the bottom of his pretty face, flustered and blushing red. you knew he has a mind to say something risque, but it always surprises you when he does. he's still not the easiest person to read. "jus- just sit down and I'll finish up."

"mm, okay. take your time." nanami has to peel himself away from you, and it takes all of his might. on the upside, he can watch your back as you fuss around in the kitchen. silently, you check the pot of rice, noting the remaining cooking time, stir and lower the flame on your meat and head back to continue cutting on your board. nanami studies all of it. he truly loves you so much.

so, he can't help the fact that the beautiful meal you'd been doting over got a bit too crispy.

your nanami just had to taste you for himself, already two fingers deep into your aching cunt, he leans down between your thighs to lap at your sweetness. he could die between these thighs -- make a home in the cushioned, comforting skin and stay forever.

he needed your pheromones in a cologne -- your taste on the back of his tongue forever, because you were so delelectible. you're always insanely fucking pretty when you're mewling his name; lovely, scattered renditions only you can call him tumbling out.

he's dragging the thickness of his tongue between your folds, focusing the tip against your swollen clit. he has you right where he wants you, knowing its not enough to make you cum immediately, but just enough to send you over the edge.

you're sliding back on the counter, its slickness from your body and nanami's spit not making it very suitable to eat off of. neither of you care, because it's just so sweet to be in this shared presence.

it's so lewd to hear your husband's fingers fucking you over the sound of your dinner sizzling and burning. but, that's just exactly what you signed up for when you agreed to become

mrs. nanami kento

[thalwri]

TEACH ME, SIR!

part 2!

STARRING: art professor!rafayel x art student!reader

synopsis: you've been struggling in your art classes, and your professor hadn't made it any easier for you. who would have thought he'd come looking for you when you stopped coming to the lessons?

warnings: porn with plot, all characters are aged up (and in university), fingering, body worship, cunnilingus, cockblocking, male masturbation, dirty talk, cock slapping, overstimulation, cum eating, pure filth.

wc: 7,5k

MINORS DON'T INTERACT!

you were more than prepared to throw that chunk of clay out the window. you could feel the pressure looming over you, mostly on your neck. you were just over a month away from your practical exam and you were drowning in absolute shit.

how did you end up in this unworthy predicament? 

out of the kindness of your heart, and the fact that you owed them big time, you decided to take up an art course with one of your closest friends so that she wouldn’t be lonely throughout the semester. 

you were registered and everything, with the needed supplies clean and fresh and ready for use. the glossy joy of it slowly disappeared when you slowly came to realise over the following days that your friend wasn’t attending classes for a reason. she dropped out. not of the class. of the university. and ran to another country with her boyfriend for a six month vacation.

perfect. now you were all on your own in an art class as someone who had no clue on how to draw, paint, or do anything art related. the only consolation – and misfortune – was your unnaturally handsome professor. despite his pretty face and alluring voice, he had a certain knack that always got on your nerves.

based off the rumours you’ve heard, professor rafayel worked as both a teacher of art and classical music, specialising in opera. apparently he had a voice so divine that half the auditorium fainted or fell ‘madly’ in love with him. his artwork was basically on par with his voice. 

not only was he a renown artist globally, he often worked on pieces to send to the gallery near the university which attracted multiple art lovers from all corners of the world. he was rarely in lectures in the previous years but this year he decided to buckle down and teach full time. 

and the first thing he had you do for your finals was a trial sculpture. you had started with something basic: a fish. a cute little fishie that would be surrounded by a wave. not too simplistic but it had enough detail to be easy to look at and mark. 

you were almost certain your professor would compliment you for the detail you’ve meticulously added to your work. the way you’ve made something so simple so beautiful especially for your first time.

“it’s lazy.” that melodic voice quickly soured into a baneful buzz of noise. rafayel stared at your work with a hint of disdain on his face. your hopeful smile slowly fell in disbelief. you spent hours on that. hours. you could hear the giggles from the girls in the studio erupt behind you. 

it wasn’t surprising that the professor had gathered a cutthroat fanbase of women who would do anything to gain his favour– and from some others, fuck him. solidarity clearly didn’t exist when it came to the illusive rafayel. 

“this is something a child would do,” he scoffed, brushing his finger across the still-drying fins of your poor fish. “this may be a trial practice before the real thing, sure. but it’s no excuse to show no effort. you’ll get a 50 for this if it gets moderated.”

a pass. barely. those charming purple-blue eyes scanned your solemn face before he glided off to the next sculpture, immediately grazing the artist. but not as badly as he did with you. 

you stared at your little fish, its form now scorned with the assault of his graceful, well maintained finger. for someone so effortlessly handsome, he was such a bitch. and you weren’t afraid to say it out loud. in fact, you did. 

it came out as a mumble low enough not to be heard. yet he somehow did. those ethereal eyes glanced at you momentarily as if he acknowledged it, and a small grin curved on his lips.

you wouldn’t say you were accustomed to his ‘bullying’. however, it wasn’t the first time he’d pick on you. during the theory-based lectures, rafayel would turn his attention to you, poking and prodding you endlessly for the historical accounts of artists that you didn’t know existed. then he’d ask you – mind you, only you – which techniques should be used with which equipment for whichever type of painting style that came up in that stupidly pretty mind of his. that extensive mind covered and protected by a mane of purple wavy hair. 

you had often wondered how soft his hair would be. and what his hands would feel like in yours. soft? calloused? he was always well dressed, adorned in expensive garb, always appearing in ways that would have any passerby fall madly in love.

he must have been some kind of siren. you were almost lucky you weren’t damned to hear his voice live. 

but the picking and scolding was becoming unbearable. you were beginning to question your worth in the class. you knew you had minimal experience from the get-go, and you never dishonoured yourself by lying or trying to fake it. 

with that being said, there’s only so much slander you can handle from not only your peers but your own professor before it becomes unbearable. eventually, like all straining predicaments, today was your inevitable breaking point.

you sat as you usually would, smack bang in the middle of the lecture hall, taking notes of whatever your professor said as quickly as possible. you took every word seriously, even if he repeatedly mentioned things like “you all should already know this,” or “which you should have learned from last year,”. 

you had worked diligently, listening and writing and occasionally glancing at the board to keep up, in a constant flow determined to finish the course well. up until the lecture hall fell quiet, followed by multiple rings of notifications, even your phone vibrated. 

and one by one, giggles erupted around you, gradually bursting into relentless chortles and laughs. the classmate seated beside you, showed you her phone revealing a devastating sight.

your trial sculpture, that was graded with a bare pass, was crushed and ruined before it could even dry. and right in front of the crime scene, stood a very familiar purple haired artist looking down on your besmirched work. his face was not fully clear in the image but you could see what you believed was a scowl. 

with blurring vision, blinded by your tears scorching your eyes, you raised your gaze to rafayel and the professor’s face masked no shame, no grief, no remorse, just confusion. almost like he didn’t realise what had taken place. 

but he must have. especially if he gave you such a low grade. your teeth ground and pressed against each other, forcing a tick in your jaw. you watched his face slowly contort in a slight realisation of what was happening. he stepped forward, his plump lips slowly split to speak but your things were already packed in your back and you were on your feet, ready to leave.

to make matters worse, the exposure clearly wasn’t enough to embarrass you. of course you had to sit in the middle of your row and stumble out under the sharp, scrutinising gaze of your peers. their snickers, hisses, and cruel whispers did not fall deaf to your ears. you absorbed them like a sponge, your face hardening more and more.

if it meant saving the last few threads of your dignity, you’d keep your head high. you stormed down the stairs, not sparing anyone a glance to push the doors wide open marking your escape. 

and by your word, that was the last time you would ever touch that lecture theatre for the rest of the year.

“i shouldn’t have bothered with that course,” you hissed, stabbing your fork into a fresh pastry. “i should have dropped it when i had the chance.”

it had been three weeks since that embarrassing event. you kept your word to yourself and didn’t bother going to the lectures or the studio sessions. your absence initially did not go unnoticed. as expected, your more confident peers would occasionally tease you or laugh behind your back to get a kick at you. fortunately you knew better than to bite back. 

like clockwork, the whispers dulled into eventual silence and you were at peace for once in the last few months. good riddance.

“you need to go back to your lectures.” zayne, a close companion of yours, muttered as he reached to have another piece of cake. that would be his third slice in the last hour. “your prac is in less than a week.”

“you’ve got a med lab tomorrow and yet you’re here for a limited cake.” you scoffed, watching his eyes light up in delight from the bursting flavour of chocolate mixing with vanilla. you wondered if he would have the same reaction with a carrot cake. mind you, he was likely going to be your future doctor.

“that handsome dickhead thinks he can almost fail my trial and then destroy it?” stab, stab, stab went your fork until it made the table shake. zayne swiftly held his plate up to protect his cake. “does he think i won’t report it to the dean?”

honestly, if you did there was a high chance you wouldn’t succeed. with rafayel’s reputation and the allegations of his donations to the university, you were more likely to be bullied into either apologising to rafayel for causing a ruckus or you’d be forced into silence. judging by the look on his face, zayne seemed to have the same idea.

“it’s only a month left of this crap. i’ve just got the prac and i can put all of it behind me. besides,” you stabbed the pastry again, visualising it as that stupid professor of yours. again and again, you stabbed until you felt it would reach your heart’s content. 

and then a striking idea seeped into your mind. what better revenge than to crush him too?

“besides?” zayne repeated with a raised brow. he held out his hand, waiting for you to explain yourself. 

“i have a plan.” your lips spread into a devilish grin. zayne cringed at the sight. he knew that face well. and it only meant trouble was near. “i’m going to make a sculpture of him. dying terribly.”

“isn’t that unethical?”

“i saw someone make a sculpture of their dick, i’ll be fine.”

your alarm went off abruptly, bringing your mind back to your revenge plot. you had already started creating rafayel’s annoyingly perfect head, using pictures you found of him online as a reference. 

you were supposed to do it at the studio, but one of your senior art friends let you use their private room to prepare it. you would do anything if it meant you’d never have to see him more than you had to. after that stunt he pulled, he’d never get the chance to make fun of you again.

you quickly said your goodbyes to zayne – quickly swiping a bite from his cake – and rushed back to the art faculty, beelining straight to the private studios. you mind buzzed with images of you drowning rafayel in the ocean, watching him gracefully swim with fishes, of you burning him alive, of him seducing you with his looks and his tragically angelic voice as his bare form lay for you to replicate with clay– 

a mere pause wasn’t enough for you to gauge what you were just thinking about. those juxtaposing thoughts had your hand on the wall to hold you upright in case you toppled over from your breath being wheezed right out of you.

since when did you find him that hot?

in all honesty, it wasn’t a lie. rafayel’s an insanely attractive man. truly, if you weren’t more reserved with your attraction to him, you’d probably tried to shoot your shot like all the other desperate people in your class. 

his skin was almost pale like he had spent his entire life underwater, clear and soft and constantly emphasising his damn perfect features. not to mention the moles all over him. it was only up to your imagination what everything beneath his clothing was like. perhaps he hid his muscles well under his clothing.

you quickly shook your head, swatting away those mischievous thoughts about him. those visions of him kissing you, and painting you– fuck.

you deeply inhaled, filling your lungs with as much air as you could muster. your eyes fluttered shut, holding back the profanities brewing deep in your throat.

“that damned–“ within an instant your centre of gravity was toppled and travelled to your arm, which was bring dragged by an almost inhumane amount of strength. 

you couldn’t look at who was pulling you without completely losing your balance and toppling over. you stumbled as your dragger’s pace sped up until you were yanked into complete darkness except the small ceiling lamp dimly illuminating the small space.

as your vision adjusted, you observed the room noting a second heavy breath outside of your own. you felt for whatever was close to you. soft bristles, cold metallic cylinders, the overwhelming smell of chemicals. of paint. this was the supply room.

“where were you?” a siren’s melody swam into your ears like water clearing out the impurities from your hearing. rafayel.

you swiftly turned to face him, following his voice. and fuck damn.

he was disheveled. like, roughed up like he ran all the way across campus just to find you. that dumb big chest of his rose up and down las if a child was using it as a trampoline. small beads of sweat dripped down the opening of his button-up shirt to his abdomen, hidden by silk. 

he asked again. “where were you.” less of a question this time, more like a statement.

“that isn’t any of your business.” your eyes narrowed in scrutiny. why would he care?

“it is my business.” he protested, stepping towards you. instinctively, your legs took you an equivalent step back. this was reminding you too much of those cliche scenes– and they only ended in two ways.

to be frank, you wouldn’t have minded the more action-based ending. you may hate the man but that didn’t mean his face wasn’t pretty.

again and again he draws near and close, and again and again does the space between you and the cabinet full of paint grow smaller and smaller. your tongue slipped out, lubricating the small cracks forming on your dry lips.

a small groaned erupts in the room, rafayel slapped his hand over his mouth and halted in his steps. those purple-blue irises rolled back for a millisecond then returned both hazed and dilated. you tugged at the collar of your shirt, your body warming up the more you brought air into your lungs. 

he was acting weirdly. was it the smell of paint? 

“you haven’t been attending classes.” you couldn’t help but laugh. since when was that his concern? “it will affect your final mark.”

“i’ve checked the handbook,” you scowled. yes, you took the time to read the handbook in depth to make sure you weren’t going to get screwed for skipping lectures. “attendance is recommended but optional.”

pink slowly tinted his cheeks under the dim light, contradicting the enraged look on rafayel’s face– almost a bit too similar to the face he made when he scrutinised your sculpture. your lips twitched, almost exposing your smug satisfaction.

truly, you had no reason to be in his class anymore other than the fact that you had given too much of your time to it already. all those sleepless nights, those days of endurance, those moments of temptation– temptation to walk out the door and never turn back. you wanted it. you often felt that you desperately needed it. 

but you knew better. your friends knew better. in those three weeks of your absence zayne persisted in ensuring you finished what you started, whether it was forcing you to work or giving you moral support by making his own botched version of whatever assignment you had to complete. though it did end up helping him when it came to making notes on anatomy. 

you’ve had endless mounds of support in those three weeks. where you felt like absolute shit. where you wanted to just hide. where you were almost willing to drop out.

fucking rafayel wasn’t going to take that away from you. you had nothing to lose. and he wasn’t going to plague you any longer.

“so if you think dragging me into this supply room will do anything, it’ll only get you into a very dangerous meeting with the dean.” you harshly grinned, waving your phone in your hand. rafayel’s eyes slowly widened upon seeing what was displayed on the screen.

you were recording the conversation. you had been since you got tugged away.

“no donations and pretty artworks can take away the blow of harassment,” your phone rested on top of a can of paint on the floor as you glided towards him in a new air of confidence and spite. “professor.”

his response was disappointing. literally, he said and did nothing. like a marbled statue purely there to be admired. damn him, he was so unnecessarily handsome on a godly level. those disrespectful plump pink lips parted and closed as if trying to figure out what words to spout. 

your smile twitched in agitation under his gaze scanning you from your hair to your skintight top pronouncing your curves, and back up to your face. your stance remained rigid, head held high and face taut with wavering spite.

rafayel’s calmness as unsettling, too calculating for your own preference. “you bite your pen when you concentrate in lectures, did you know that?” his voice dropped an octave, reaching a husky flow. a shiver rolled down your spine as it arched in response to his voice. like a siren calling a damned sailor.

“what?” your disbelief came out in a choked whisper. the moisture in your throat was wiped clean from you, leaving complete dryness almost worse than a desert. 

“and you like to listen to the questions,” rafayel continued, moving closer to you in tandem with your rising pulse. his eyes were locked on yours, dragging you deeper into his abyss intending not to let you go. “you bite your lip whenever my voice deepens. and you always have questions but choose not to ask.”

he was getting too close. you were too close. the heat of his breath fanned your skin as his height forced you to raise your gaze to maintain your stare-off. something about it felt a little too hot for your liking. your skin prickled in sensitivity rubbing against the fabric of your clothing.

there was no way this was getting you aroused. no fucking way.

“do you know why you don’t ask?” his hand gripped the edge of the cabinet, just a few centimetres from your head. the distance between your lips slowly yet inevitably closed. your breath was trapped in your throat almost clawing for release but it remained trapped. 

“you’re scared.”

“i’m not afraid of drawing, rafayel.” first name basis already? you were really testing your luck. you expected him to return to that unsettling silence again before telling you that your suspension was pending.

instead, rafayel broke into a chuckle, sweat-slick chest and shoulders shaking as he laughed. he quickly straightened his lips upon seeing your eye twitch, only to burst into another fit of suppressed laughs. 

“who in their mind would be afraid of a bit of paint?” his voice returned to that familiar serene, light tone. the one that brought half the student body to its knees. “no, no, no. i’ve managed to reduce it to two things.” 

you instantly jerked back as far as you could – which wasn’t really that far because were already at your dead end – and balled your hand into a tight fist, ready to punch him square in the jaw. the side of your neck tickled with heat as his lips hovered by your ear.

“me, or the chance that you’ll do incredibly well.”

bewildered was an understatement. you were discombobulated at the least. you couldn’t even say it was a bizarre assumption because it was true. 

not the fact that you were afraid of rafayel– he’s a walking model who pouts whenever someone speaks to him with a bit more sass than him. even his relentless critique of you doesn’t illicit fear. the only thing he’s gained from that was you growing to despise him.

but your confidence in your artistic abilities were never high. remember, you only joined the course for your friend. and they ditched you last minute. you walked into the studio with the mindset of knowing that you were likely to fail even if you put your hardest work in. 

clearly, he noticed.

“you walked into my class knowing nothing,” rafayel leaned back to face your gaze once more with a stern look on his face. “it’s only understandable that you’d be afraid of messing it up. i can see it in your art. i can sense the fear.”

“yeah, right.” you huffed, turning your face away to blink away the stinging sensation burning your eyes. “you prefer to call it lazy and then destroy it.”

for the first time in however long its been since you were trapped in this room with him, rafayel’s facade broke. a flicker of guilt flashed in his gaze. then confusion.

“destroy?”

“don’t act coy.” he could not just play coy. “you destroyed my trial sculpture. there are pictures of it spreading everywhere. you know what you did.” 

rafayel slowly shook his head. “i found it like that,” his voice was grave, eyes almost darkened just from the memory. “i was trying to get a scope of the damage to see if i could redo it for you, but it was beyond repair.”

a grave heaviness weighed on your heart. he wanted to fix it? despite being so cruel to you he was that willing to repair your work on your behalf… but that didn’t answer the footage.

“and the picture?” what was meant to come out as a scrutinising hiss escaped as a whisper, holding back the many tears brewing in your eyes.

“i had heard giggles outside the studio, but they ran out before i could check.” his perfect brows furrowed as he observed you. it was more than just intuitive for him to comfort you, console your shock away. his hand reached to hold your arm, to transfer his remorse through his body’s warmth. “i am sorry about what happened to your sculpture. really.”

“don’t.” the involuntary pang in rafayel’s chest did not go unnoticed. his lungs filled with shaking air, unsure of how to proceed. you weren’t pushing him away nor were you hiding. it looked like you were equally as unsure.

“the mark you gave it–“ you seethed, voice cracking as the venom of your tongue delivered each words with malice. “the embarrassment. the shame it left me drowning in, all of it. it was you. and you think you can play innocent and ask why i haven’t shown up?”

rafayel’s fingers twitched, hovering over your skin hesitant to move away. perhaps he was too hard on you, too particular in his interest to monitor your growth in the arts. his face scrunched up, unsure of what you’d allow him to try without violating your space.

“you think you can use that stupidly pretty face to ask for forgiveness?” it was clearly intended to be a mumble that he wasn’t supposed to hear but he did. loud and clear. the tips of his ears instantly warmed and his brows rose.

“stupidly pretty face?” 

shit.

shit.

of course he heard you. of course he fucking heard you call him pretty. you just wanted to crawl into a pint of paint and choke on it until it filled your lungs with chemical pigment. and there was no way out of this too. rafayel quite literally had you trapped with his body. 

his tall, divinely sculpted, soft, gorgeous body. that artistically designed form that you’ve dreamt of touching, that you’ve touched yourself to in your quiet nights– not that you’d ever admit it to anyone let alone him.

warm, almost hot, fingers slide up your arm trailing the standing hairs on your skin. they rounded your shoulder and meeting with the fabric of your clothing, fondling it to check its quality. they reached higher, and hotter, slow and intentional feeling the curve of your throat until the pad of his thumb reached your chin, lifting it until your gaze found his. a raw, newfound level of unspoken, familiar need engulfed you— and you weren’t uncomfortable with it.

“you think i’m pretty?” that husk tone returned, tickling away your nerves replacing them with something more feral. 

“everyone does.” you huffed, trying to maintain the front of rafayel’s charms not affecting you. it was almost obvious to you both that you’d fallen in deep. 

and yet despite embarrassing yourself, rafayel refused to back down. his thumb’s touch on your chin roughened into a grip with his hand. a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes. 

“say it again.”

it was either the way he said it or the way he looked at you while saying it. regardless, it left your core warm and throbbing with an unprecedented level of need. this was wrong but it felt so right.

you slowly swallowed. “say what?”

the distance between your lips slowly closed, bit by bit. “that i have a stupidly pretty face.”

“no.”

his soft laugh fanned your face like a warm, mint scented breeze. “say it.”

your eyes darted between his own, noting how unnatural yet befitting the colours mixes and emphasised his almost inhumane beauty. it used to sink you yet now you could tell he was starting to drown in yours.

“make me.”

an erratic charge surged between you like lightning striking a tense, hot night. rafayel softly tutted, shaking his head– almost desperate to shake off his unspoken desire to pursue this. to pursue you. his hands did not leave you though. his grip on your face returned to your neck, securing a gentle hold on the base of your exposed flesh, both soft and pulsating with nerves.

rafayel pressed his forehead on yours, your connection anchoring him to reality and restraining his needs. “tell me you think i’m pretty.” his eyes grew heavy with heat, hazing in and out of focus as they moved from your spit-slick lips, your eyes, and every distinguishable feature on your face.

in twisted, lewd synchrony, your lower lip found itself caught seductively in the bite of your teeth. the corners of your lips twitched like they wanted to expose your snarky grin. like your body wanted to show rafayel how you’ve dreamt of that moment.

you should be pushing him away. you should minutes ago. but you didn’t. you didn’t want to. your eyes fluttered shut as rafayel’s grip on your face tightened, finally pulling you both into the passionate embrace of your lips. 

the first contact was a shock, forcing you into a soft jolt. his lips were even softer than you imagined, his hands gentle yet crushing to keep you in his hold rubbing small circles on your skin with his thumb.

then the erratic hunger kicked in like a shot of vodka. your faces pushed deeper into each other almost desperate to keep yourselves deep in your embrace. your fingers tangled in his soft locks, your mind drowning in the flowing currents of his scent. 

lips waltzing in a push and pull fell into an intoxicating dance of tug and bite. it drove you insane until it was just too much. 

you slowly pulled your head back, still connected to him by his teeth latched onto your lower lip nibbling at your swollen flesh.

“this can’t be right.” you sighed against his lips, leaning your head back to catch some air without feeling like your face will get hotter. “we must be violating some code of conduct.”

that irritating chuckle escaped his lips again. “then push me away.”

you should have. you definitely should have. before you could even consider it you found your lips back on his, drooling tongue sweeping past the enclosure of his lips to meet his. it was hot and deliciously wet meeting in a careless fight to taste as much as your breaths could allow.

you rolled your hips against his– slight and subtle– just enough to feel a slight brush of him. to feel it. he felt so big and thick. 

a sharp curse flooded your ears, his hands tugged at your waist to pull you closer and make you feel it. his fingers twitched and squeezed you, caressing your waist without abandon, rising ruthlessly higher until his hands disappeared under your shirt. he was boiling, a human inferno trapped in a body of flesh and bone restricted by restraint yet fuelled with hunger. 

they reached inchingly closer to the swell of your breasts, barely contained by your bra– you needed him to rip it off at this point. they curved over the lace and enclosed on each one, pulling your perked nipples out to fondle.

his tight hold on you dragged out a sound not meant to leave your lips. it was enough to make him snap. two hot bodies pressed to each other, clothing almost completely unravelled, and the door behind you still unlocked.

the air was thick and hot with heavy pressure and mutual need. 

a low grunt rumbled deep in rafayel’s throat as he pulled away from the intoxication that was your lips. “tell me to stop.” his lips ghosted over your skin, dragging a light trail of your mixed saliva down your neck until it stopped with a gentle peck. “tell me to walk away.”

“fuck no.” you panted. your hand tugged at his soft hair, pushing him deeper into your neck. “finish what you started.”

he laughed against your skin, marvelled by how much wittier you became when you weren’t tense. when you were fogged in temptation. he could only imagine how much more of you he’d experience the further down his lips went.

perhaps you tasted just as good as you smelt. his knees buckled at the thought, the mere sight of his eyes looking up to you as you lost composure was as unprofessional as it could get. his cock throbbed in his slacks, pumping so loudly he could barely hear himself breathe.

still gripping your fleshy mounds, rafayel sunk beneath your gaze never breaking contact with your beautiful eyes. one hand slowly crept down out of the warmth of your shirt to your alarmingly short skirt.

it was the third time he had seen you wear it since you joined his class. and every time his eyes were attached to you more than before. the vision of raising it above your pretty ass had always crossed his mind but he always had the mind to maintain decorum. the sea must have blessed him with this privilege today.

“need to eat you,” he whispered into your skin, spreading kisses all over you like invisible marks of his name. “taste you.”

your imagination conjured many things for you to indulge in, but this was beyond what even you could dream of. his glossy gaze, deliberate hot touch, his damned soft lips searing you with his affections… how could you say no?

your head hit the edge of the cabinet as you nodded in desperation, so needy for his mouth to explore you everywhere, so aroused that nothing could hold you back from sinking deeper and deeper. your legs slowly split apart, welcoming rafayel’s gentle hand with grace.

completely sat on the floor, the professor stared at your legs in a daze of reverence and worship. he was salivating the scent of your dripping pussy reeling him in like a fish swimming to bait. and he wouldn’t even consider himself damned if it meant being hooked by you.

his grip tightened on your thigh, fingers pressing into you to memorise your shape and how you felt by his touch. his hand slid down your leg in a great struggle to hold onto the last of his restraint while your pants and soft moans just made things so much worse.

“don’t make too much noise,” he quietly groaned, licking a line up your thigh up to the lacy panties covering your warmth. his eyes rolled back as your scent flooded his senses like a drug. in a fuss, rafayel pushed your skirt up revealing red lace. 

he almost came on the spot. 

his fingers slipped between the hem, feeling you up and down. he just had to go a bit further… just a little to get a taste of that sweet nectar. his eyes darted upwards to find you completely disheveled, pretty lips parted, chest heaving with your nipples pressed against your shirt, and your hands holding his head as close to your cunny as possible.

rafayel’s lips curved into a lustful smile and finally pushed his fingers further into your panties, brushing over your sensitive nub. a sharp gasp sounded in the room, his scalp ached from the harsh tug you forced on him before slowly pushing him back where he was.

you were so cute.

you didn’t feel cute. you felt like you were boiling up, throbbing to the point where it hurt, dripping like a fucking river. you were surprised your wetness wasn’t dripping down your legs already. rafayel was definitely the type to lick it up to prevent it going to waste.

his fingers crept around your clit, ghosting circles round and round in a teasing tickle almost like he wanted to pull a reaction out of you. every subtle reaction, every jolt and twitch, and every hesitant tug at his hair made his hips jut into the air with his cock roughly straining his slacks.

he tilted his head, lips enclosing around your clothed clit, swiping his tongue sloppily around you, loudly moaning at your taste. his fingers finally found your pussy, soaking before they even went inside you. you slapped your hand over your mouth. he was going to drive you insane.

loud squelches echoed around you with his fingers teasing and tapping your hole to draw out as much of your nectar as he could. your pussy lips were as swollen the lips he kissed and bit, sensitive to his finger sliding up and down before slowly plunging into you.

just as his lips parted more– a loud bang! shocked you both out of your trance of indulgence. you yelped and jerked back, pussy walls tightening around his fingers as he swiftly moved his head away from your core– a string of saliva connecting him to your clit cruelly reminding him how far he let his desire take him.

the shockwave of the noise sent the door rattling as if someone was about to walk in on you. rafayel adjusted your underwear back in place and tugged your skirt down, rearranging it so that you were somewhat presentable. your hands shakily fixed his messed hair in a sore attempt to ignore the aching need your pussy screamed to you.

your clothes stuck to your skin from the heat, your vision hazed by lust and interrupted pleasure so filthy and sinful that you couldn’t help but bite your lip. 

rafayel licked his lips as he rose to his feet, knees aching even though it felt like he had only been beneath you for seconds. he straightened his clothing, mustering the courage to face your gaze. you were dangerously close. dangerously beautiful. dangerously arousing. he just had to kiss you again. 

“i’ll deal with the person that damaged your sculpture.” his voice both husky and cracked still rumbled deep within you. “please forgive me and the incident.” 

without another word, he stalked out of the supply room leaving you to fully dissect what just happened.

he almost ate you out.

rafayel, your professor, almost ate you out. in a supply room. and he left you in need for so much more. a single step would send your poor clit, and your pussy really, into a frenzy– both sore and soaked, vibrating with pleasure. 

you were going to have to figure out how to deal with it.

but rafayel was determined to deal with it now.

he almost sprinted to his office, dizzy with lust. it was locked and dark with only candles giving him light. stacks of paper was spread out all over his desk left abandoned while he sat in front of his recent work– a completely blank canvas.

gods, his length was already leaking through his pants and aching so fucking hard that any subtle movement would have him cumming for hours.

rafayel didn’t bother removing himself with the delicacy of taking care of himself properly. his hands fumbled at the buckle of his belt, fingers slipping out of control before he could tug it off and toss it to the floor.

his vision was blurring him blind and abandoned him in the memory of your lips, your divine mixing scent, your melodic voice, and your taste. your noses had brushed and bumped into each other while his tongue ventured deep in your mouth, tasting the remains of the sweet pastry and bitter coffee you had consumed beforehand.

the office was somehow as hot as he was, the air burned with the fading remnants of your scent driving into a state of great distress. the zipper to his pants were already forced down from the sheer will of his cock raging and throbbing against its confines. he barely bothered himself with pulling them down, hurriedly gripping his girthy length both recklessly pulsating and near suffocating in dribbling precum.

his fingers rose to his lips, rubbing at the swollen effect of you attacking him with your teeth. it still stung from a light touch and that only aroused him more. his fingers were still sticky from caressing and plunging into your juicy cunny— explicitly reminding him how delicious you were.

without further thought, he pushing his digits on his salivating tongue and the flavours that were you burst into his senses like an inferno raging through a dry forest. rafayel’s eyes fluttered as they rolled back, a loud and deep moan soon to follow. 

“f-fuck.” he could just curse and curse for hours. “you did this to me.”

his tongue swirled between his fingers to absorb and savour as much of you as it could. he wasn’t too sure on whether he’d get the privilege to be so close to you again. he suckled on the tips of his finger like he would with that swollen clit of yours. fuck, you just somehow got a grip on him that he couldn’t shake off.

every moment he spent observing you just made him attach more and more even when he knew he shouldn’t have. but you intrigued him. your determination despite your lack of confidence. your thick skin in the face of his - often unnecessary - critique. 

not to mention of good your lips felt with his own. 

a shaky sigh shuddered out his lips as his hand slowly stroked up and down reaching to his base and tickling the leaky slit of his reddened tip. his hips jerked into his hand violently sending his head lolling back over the couch. 

the tandem rhythm of his hips remained constant, thrusting into the air and being squeezed tightly by his hand to simulate that jaw clenching strength your pussy walls used to grip on him. no matter how hard he’d try nothing would be able to replicate the effect you had on him. 

your name bouncing on the walls in an endless prayer turned to a song of moans and grunts. rafayel’s saliva-slick hand ran down his neck to his chest and slipped through his shirt to circle his perked nipples now rendered completely sensitive to even a breath.

while feeling each vine surrounding his cock pulsate, a lewd idea slithered into his mind like his most devious desires slipping right out to control him. he was so painfully hard it hurt. his clothes were sticking to his skin, dampened by his sweat and precum mixed together.

and then he raised his palm and struck it across his cock. smack! the sound struck through the room like thunder. 

a gasp, then a laugh, then another smack! followed by a husky moan.

the sting melted into rousing pleasure so instantaneously it almost gave him whiplash. he did it again.

smack!

and again.

smack!

up until the pain was enough to knock him unconscious. with each swing, his cock flew back upwards and jutted into the air shooting drops of precum up. rafayel bit his lip at the sight, greedily laughing at the pure slutty act he performed for himself. 

he could only dream for you to do the same thing.

his hand did not stop once it returned to stroking. the plap! plap! rapidly sounding as his hand fisted his cock to oblivion was disrespectfully slick. but it could be so much wetter. rafayel swiftly leaned over his length and spat straight onto his sobbing cockhead, pulling his hand right up to swirl and mix it all with his palm.

the wet friction alone was debilitating. he fucked himself into his hand like a rabid animal in intense heat, rutting like a fool drunken by a mere whiff of your scent. his hips lifted right off the couch, chasing his climax and hand that wasn’t even running from him– though could imagine you would.

“so– fucking– tight–“ he squeezed harder until his entire cock was red. the pain no longer affected him. his only devotion was hitting his edge in the hopes that it would feel like a fraction of what it would be like inside you.

inside your wet mouth, stretched wide open for him, drooling down your chin right onto your tits. or even inside your sweet cunny, throbbing and fluttering as your walls squeeze him with each thrust that tickles you to multiple orgasms.

“take it– take– oh fuck.” his voice cracked into a whiny whimper as his hands rolled over his leaking slit every time his hand brushed over his tip. the other hand continued to assault his chest, abusing his sensitivity to the max. 

the hand pumping his cock raised to smack it over and over, left and right in a broken tempo. his cock jumped, legs practically shivering from the pleasure and spreading wider and wider like you sat between them to take him deep in your mouth.

he couldn’t help himself. smack! the pain felt so good. smack! it was so wrong yet so stupidly right. smack! he’d do this for hours if he could. his core tightened, awaiting his incoming climax as his cock pulsed in a plea for him to stroke it to oblivion.

his grip became utterly brutal, rapidly pumping his shaft like his hand was a fucking fleshlight. he was messy, wet, and his lewd mixture of fluid was dripping down his legs onto the couch beneath him, staining and soaking the fabric. he twisted his hand right at the tip shocking his senses beyond the board.

he brought his hand to his tongue, lapping up all the precum sitting so impolitely on him, swallowing every drop like sacred water. his free hand slid down to finish what he started and rubbed and stroked with the intention to push him right to the end.

his body tensed as one more cruel squeeze snapped the tight thin rope within him. his eyes crossed, seeing only pure white. his breath hitched, and thick ropes of hot, sticky cum shot up like rockets and splattered all over him like fallen paint.

moans and whimpers shivered out of him like a broken record, your name remained mixed within his curses. his hand didn’t stop its relentless strokes. it persisted in dragging him through his high no matter how many times he’d try to stop himself. 

his cock ached and weeped, leaking hot white all over his hand as it gradually slowed. it had gone right up to his chin. rafayel lowly groaned, both fucked out and ruined beyond comprehension. ruined by his own hand and the thought of what more you could have done in that supply room.

rafayel raised his shaking hand to his face, analysing the way it glistened over his flushed skin. his tongue poked out of his lips and swiped all the way up from his wrist to the tip of his finger then took it deep inside. the flavour of his own juices mixed with your own, drawing a lustful moan from him.

he slurped it all up, licking his hand completely clean in an obscene and deliberate manner. like he was putting on a show for you, even though you weren’t actually there, and swallowed it all with great satisfaction.

he slouched into the couch, breath still laboured and heavy. he was still filthy and drenched and yet he still had the greed for so much more. 

that beautiful laugh replaced the echoes of his lewd noises once his high slowly dissipated. 

all that from a kiss?

rafayel was fucked.

might just post a calm part ii if you guys like it