#I wish I looked like all the beautiful girls here
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"obstinate, headstrong girl" part 2 - aaron hotchner x fem!reader
read part 1 here
wc: 3000
cw: mentions of food and alcohol! enemies to lovers! poorly researched medical information lmao i am a liberal arts girly i just need it for the plot. typical bau meddling, reader is lowkey a bully but dw bc hotch is still a little bitch, part 3 to come c:
a/n big fat thank you to my bestie @cerisereids for all her help workshopping / brainstorming with me! i also got the BEAUTIFUL dividers from the immensely talented @saradika-graphics
You.
With your red dress and your attitude, throwing back amaretto sours like they’re tequila shots - who gets drunk on amaretto sours? They’re basically safe to drink while pregnant. To be fair, you didn’t get sloppy, or even really that drunk. By the end of the night, your eyes appeared just a bit heavy, like someone had tied miniature weights to your eyelashes.
Your eyelashes. Aaron had never found eyelashes, of all things, to be attractive, but here he is, in the middle of a work day with a report half-finished (and half-assed, at that), and he’s thinking about your eyelashes.
He’s thought of basically every part of you already today. Your knees, your dress, what’s underneath it. You have been sucking him into a black hole all day long, and he’s to the point where he’s halfway wishing for a serial killer so he can focus on something else.
He plows his hand through his dark hair, shaking off the overwhelming thoughts of you. He checks the silver Rolex on his wrist. It’s nearly time to leave. Aaron doesn’t usually do this, but he decides to leave this report for tomorrow, when he can look at the letters on the page and not see your face, hear your voice.
Just as he starts packing up, there’s a knock on his open office door. Aaron’s dark eyes flicker up to see Garcia standing in the doorway, Morgan’s tall frame looming behind her. “Hotch, you got anything going on tonight?”
Aaron shakes his head. For once, he actually doesn’t. “Jack’s at a sleepover,” he says. “What’s up?”
“We’re taking Spence and Jacqueline to this nighttime vendor market thingy,” Penelope says, scrunching her nose up with a smile. “You remember Jacqueline?”
It’s been a week since Derek’s birthday, when Jacqueline and Spencer were introduced. More relevantly, since Aaron laid eyes on you. “I remember.”
“You wanna come with us?” Penelope asks with bright eyes. Aaron opens his mouth the decline almost immediately, but Penelope beats him to it. “Y/N’s not coming.”
Aaron arches a brow. “What makes you think I care if Y/N’s coming or not?” he asks.
“Oh, c’mon, Hotch,” Derek puts all his weight on the doorjamb. “We saw you staring at her at my birthday. It’s about time you moved on from Haley, any-”
“If I say I’ll come out, will you stop talking?” Aaron cuts him off, grabbing his briefcase.
Derek ponders this for a second, even looks to Penelope as if to ask permission. He shrugs his shoulders in what Aaron suspects will be the first little white lie of the evening. “Yeah.”
How anyone was able to sprain their ankle while shopping for books is beyond you. Leave it to Jacqueline, the wide-eyed, quirkily clumsy ingénue of her very own romantic comedy, to trip over a curb while gazing starry-eyed at the oh-so dreamy Dr. Reid. She called you from the emergency room with a shrill panic lining her voice, and you immediately leapt up from the couch. You didn’t even bother pausing your show on the TV, just slid some shoes on, grabbed your bag, and bolted out the door.
You’re taking extra long strides, your flip-flops smacking obnoxiously against the linoleum tiles of the hospital floor. When you spot Jacqueline sitting up in the bed, still in her own clothes, you feel instant relief. At least she’s not panicking anymore. Spencer sits diligently by her side, fidgeting with the edges of the sheets. Jacqueline’s right leg is elevated atop several pillows, with a meek smile on her face once her eyes meet yours.
“Spencer, you’re supposed to keep an eye on her at all times,” you joke with a weak laugh, sighing as you plop down in the empty chair beside Spencer’s.
“She saw something shiny and wandered off,” Spencer shrugs, and Jacqueline glares at the both of you.
“This whole talking about me like I’m not here, thing? Not my favorite,” she deadpans. There’s the Jacqueline you know and love. In crowded social settings, she can be reclusive and difficult to open up. But with only a few people around - especially people she’s comfortable around - Jacqueline is a completely different person.
You’re glad she feels comfortable around Spencer after just a week of knowing him. They’re not even officially dating, per se, but tonight they went out with Penelope and Derek to test the waters. You think it’s cute - like two fifth-graders on a chaperoned outing to the movies, with their parents sitting a row behind them.
You were invited to tag along, but you didn’t want to be the fifth wheel. You also were having a really long, insufferable week, and you simply needed some recharge time. So you politely declined.
“Oh, shush, you’ve got bigger fish to fry,” you tell Jacqueline playfully, eyes darting down to her elevated foot. “So, what’s the damage?”
“Sprained ankle, possibly fractured,” Spencer rattles off. “Usually an x-ray isn’t required, but since Jacqueline’s having pain in her malleolar zone - that is, the top part of the ankle that connects to the tibia - the doctor ordered one. We’re waiting on the results to come back, but I think they’ll just put her in a brace for a few weeks. Statistically speaking, only about 15% of sprained ankles result in significant bone fractures.”
You release an awkward little chuckle, very nearly overwhelmed by the amount of information Spencer just dumped on you. Jacqueline shrugs her shoulders a little, like this is just how he is, and I love it.
You blink a few times as you absorb all of Spencer’s ramblings. “So.. she’s gonna be fine?”
“Yeah, she’ll be fine,” Spencer cracks a smile, and his thumb brushes affectionately over the top of Jacqueline’s hand. Your friend blushes furiously, ever-so-clearly under the fluorescent lighting.
“So what exactly happened?” You ask.
Before either of them get to answer, imposing footsteps grow louder, and you hear a familiar voice say, “Okay, coffee acquired.”
Smooth like the neat whiskey he was throwing back the night you met him, Aaron’s voice drags down your spine. Your belly does acrobatic flips. You visibly tense up for a second before turning around to see Aaron with a cardboard drink carrier in his hand containing three to-go cups of coffee.
“Oh, hi, Y/N. When did you get here?” Aaron’s voice goes flat, and he meets your eyes civilly.
“While you were getting coffee, I presume,” you deadpan, and you swear you see one of those imposing brown eyes twitch.
“Right,” Aaron hands Jacqueline her coffee, and then has to lean over you so he can give Spencer his. You catch whiffs of pine and espresso and dark leather. His chest is basically in your face for a solid three seconds. God, he’s broad. He’s also in a suit, save for the jacket and tie, and your eyes catch the crinkly lines in his white dress shirt, no longer crisp from being worn all day. They look like rivers on a map. “Well, I guess I’ll be going. Glad you’re okay, Jacqueline, that was quite the fall.”
“Oh, no, Aaron, you don’t have to go!” Jacqueline pipes up, holding her coffee with two hands. “I mean, only if you need to, but, we’re still waiting for my X-ray to come back, and I know I’d love the company.”
You look at Jacqueline with a bewildered expression. “I mean, I’d love the company of all of you,” Jacqueline corrects, her cheeks pinkening.
You cross your ankles, suddenly aware that you’re in your loungewear - beige linen shorts and a blue Georgetown sweatshirt - and your hair sits in a haphazard knot on top of your head. You have to remind yourself that you don’t care. That Aaron Hotchner’s opinion of you does not matter.
Aaron seems momentarily frozen in place, standing at the foot of Jacqueline’s bed. His eyes dart to you as if to silently ask permission to stay, and you give a subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shrug and tilt of your head. He inhales and you see his nostrils flare. He clears his throat and says, “Let me find a chair, then.”
There’s something humorous about a man as tall and imposing and draconian as Aaron Hotchner looking for a chair in the emergency room bay of a hospital. Shoulders hunched so he doesn’t inconvenience anyone. You hope he feels embarrassed and humbled by the experience. A muted smirk rests upon your lips as you watch him most unhelpfully, not even bothering to move from your seat.
Eventually he finds a free chair in the corner and drags it to the other side of Jacqueline’s bed, keeping a respectful distance. He looks across the bed at Spencer, who sits beside you. “Did you tell her that Garcia basically pushed Jacqueline over the curb?”
Fluorescent lighting had never been so flattering before. Under its clarifying spotlight, Aaron gets to see details of you he’d missed at the bar where you first met. The texture of your skin, an extra little sliver of thigh from those linen shorts he wasn’t privy to before.
And when he leaned over you to give Reid his coffee? He caught your intoxicating scent and now he fears it will either be stuck in his nostrils forever, or it will fade too quickly, before he can commit it to memory.
“Penelope did what?” You’re asking, looking at Reid, then Jacqueline, brows creasing in the middle.
Aaron folds his left leg atop his right, then nods with an amused smile. It’s clear you still don’t like him - might even hate him for how cold he was to you at the bar the other night. He can tell by the way you refuse to look at him unless absolutely necessary, how your jaw visibly tenses every time he addresses you directly.
“I have no solid proof,” Aaron begins, offering the information as an olive branch. Your eyes snap to his and he’s jarred for a second, then he continues, the corners of his lips ticking up into an amused smile. “But one second, I see Garcia and Morgan at least three feet behind where Jacqueline’s walking, and the next thing I know, she’s on the ground and Garcia’s apologizing profusely.”
“Why isn’t she here?” You laugh softly, and Aaron’s chest thrums. He can’t diagnose his reaction to it, but your laugh, no matter how strained and merely polite it might be at this moment, could be the thing that kills him.
“Something about feeding JJ and Emily’s cat while they’re on vacation,” Jacqueline chimes in. Aaron clocks the younger woman’s eyes and how glued they are on Reid. She’s been so closed off every time Aaron’s around, so this tidbit of information coming from her surprises him. Aaron’s wondered this whole time if she truly likes Reid or if she’s just being kind.
You nod in understanding and lean back in your chair. Little wisps of your hair fall into your eyes and you brush them back delicately with your index finger.
Jacqueline pipes up again, her voice still timid and maybe a little tired. “Would you mind maybe getting me a snack?” She asks you.
Aaron watches the softening of your expression as you look at Jacqueline fondly. You would do anything for her, and he can tell. “Of course,” you squeeze Jacqueline’s uninjured leg as you rise from your seat.
“And maybe Aaron can go with you? Since Spence is pretty hungry, too, right, Spence?” Jacqueline proposes.
Your soft expression twists into one of slight irritance.
Aaron knows exactly what Jacqueline is up to, but it takes Reid a lingering moment to catch on. “What - oh, yeah, I’m starving,” the good doctor adds, even going to far as to pat his stomach, as if to say it’s hollow in there.
Your eyes shrink in annoyance, and you seem to plaster a sickly sweet smile onto your lips, one that would make demons shake in their boots. You lock eyes with Aaron, as if to say, well? What’s it gonna be?
Aaron asks Jacqueline and Reid what they want, then leads the way out of the ER and towards the cafeteria. The hospital’s signage is fairly easy to follow, and Aaron slows his usually long strides so you don’t have to struggle to keep up.
He gestures to your Georgetown sweatshirt. “You graduated from Georgetown?” He asks.
“No, I just like to wear merchandise for schools I didn’t attend,” you deadpan, and there’s that goddamn attitude again.
Aaron considers laying it all out - right here, right now. You’re not even thirty yet, from what Garcia’s told him. He shouldn’t be attracted to you, but he is, and god, is it killing him. Instead, he just furrows his brows and doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah,” you soften a little, shoving your hands in the pockets of the sweatshirt. You seem to be cutting Aaron a little bit of slack, for whatever reason. “Yeah, I went to Georgetown.”
Aaron holds the door open for you when you reach the cafeteria. You feel a little bad for your snarky comment in the hallway. You were not raised to be outwardly rude. You were raised to hoard your resentment like a precious flower, nursing it so it grows big and strong.
“Jacqueline made it really sound like an emergency, huh?” Aaron asks, following you to the line. You shoot him a quizzical brow, and he gestures to your ensemble.
“Oh, excuse me for not wearing an Armani suit to the hospital,” you roll your eyes, but they linger on the wrinkles in his dress shirt. “You just went out right after work, then? In your fancy suit?”
Aaron smooths his fingertips over the white cotton. The color reminds you of freshly cleaned bedsheets. “Yeah, and it’s not Armani, for your information.”
“Sorry, Mr. FBI. What is it, then, Dolce & Gabbana? Ralph Lauren?”
“Tom Ford.”
“Like that’s any less pretentious,” you scoff.
“Hey, I can spend my money however I choose,” Aaron says, and you know he’s right. That doesn’t mean you’re not going to give him shit for it.
“Must be nice to just burn cash,” you say dryly. “I’m sure your wife loves that.”
“I don’t have a wife.” You look at him over your shoulder and his eye twitches a little when he says this.
You’re not sure why you mention a wife anyway. Maybe you’re merely curious, but then again, you’ve already clocked that he’s not wearing a wedding ring. “Girlfriend, then,” you correct. “Do men your age call them girlfriends, or do you prefer the term mistress?”
“Men my age?” Aaron laughs bitterly. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says. His voice is stringent, right on the line of annoyance. You smirk to yourself and grab a tray so you can carry the food. “Even if I did, I wouldn’t call her my mistress, because I don’t have a wife to cheat on with her.”
“Bachelors in the 1800s called their girlfriends mistresses,” you point out, though your facts are coming from Bridgerton, so you’re not sure if they’re entirely accurate. “I don’t know how old-fashioned you are.”
“I’m not,” Aaron says simply as you load an individual-size veggie pizza on your tray for Jacqueline, then grab a bag of chips and a soda for yourself. Aaron grabs the sandwich Spencer requested, and you lead the way to the checkout.
The cafeteria worker punches in your items, and then Aaron’s. “Oh, we’re not together,” you correct politely.
“It’s fine,” Aaron insists, pulling a silver AmEx out of his wallet. You reach for your own wallet to try and beat him, but he’s already swiped by the time you even get it out.
You thank the cafeteria worker before gathering everything in your hands. “You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you and Aaron head out of the cafeteria. He holds the door open for you, again.
“It’s not a big deal,” Aaron says as you walk through the open door. “Chivalry is still alive, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Not old-fashioned, huh?” You smirk as you look up at him, feeling your cheeks redden a bit. Wait, when did this become playful jesting rather than straight-up bullying?
“Maybe a little old-fashioned.” Aaron’s lips hint at a smile, and you feel your mouth go dry.
“Shocking that you’re still on the market,” you say, admittedly because you’re curious about what Penelope said the other night at the bar. Something about Aaron going through a hard time.
“My job requires a lot of my time,” Aaron explains. Your footsteps slow a little and he matches your pace. “Even if I found someone worth all the trouble, I don’t think I’d have the time to dedicate to a relationship.”
“Worth all the trouble?” You repeat, a scoff lining your voice like a thousand tiny needles. Aaron resists the urge to visibly wince at your reaction.
Why you’re prompting all this relationship discussion is beyond him. He’s a profiler, for Christ’s sake, but he can’t pin you down, for some reason. He lays the brickwork down and builds his walls up again. For a moment, back in the cafeteria, he was starting to let you in.
But, no, it doesn’t matter how god-forsakenly adorable you are when you scrunch your nose or call him out on his bullshit. Aaron’s not ready for this kind of thing yet, so iciness is necessary. It protects him, it protects Jack, but - and, maybe most importantly - it protects you.
You’re young and you’re willful. You’re a goddamn hurricane, a force to be reckoned with, but your stubbornness is a house of cards. Aaron Hotchner knows that if he hurts you, the cards will fall. And he could never forgive himself for something like that.
So when you look at him for some kind of explanation, throwing him an arched brow and the opportunity to explain himself, he doesn’t take it. Instead, he watches as you pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, leaving a hell of a view and a frustrated, fully-grown man in your wake.
#criminal minds#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfic#hotchner x reader#basketonthedoorstepofthefbi#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner enemies to lovers#criminal minds fic#criminal minds imagine#aaron hotchner x you#hotchner x you#hotch x you
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i bet on losing dogs
pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader
summary: in which cairo's obsession for mr. miller drifts you two further apart, and you can't do anything about it.
word count: 4.2k+
warnings: angsty (not proud of it) toxic cairo, mentions of sex, mentions of teacher/student relationships
based off request!
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Hey... Can I have a request?! Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader
"I'm done waiting for you, Cairo."
Credits to: urfriendlywriter
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Cairo was.. Honestly, you didn’t know how to explain to her. That’s just exactly how to describe her. She was indescribable.
One moment in a day would you be like the teenage girl you are, in love. The beat in your heart would race, fluttering in your chest as she bit the eraser on her pencil, looking at you with eyes that made your legs feel like mush.
Then, another day you would feel hopeless. Helpless. Because the beautiful brown-eyed girl would leave you in the dust.
She would sweep you off your feet, but never care enough to really catch you. Maybe that’s why you kept going back. To feel the thrill, to be loved for just a little moment with the girl you’ll love no matter what happens.
But you had no cure, because she was so contagious. Addictive. She was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, yet there was no cure to make you stop. Cairo Sweet. It was in her name. Her genes. She was so syrupy sweet, you just couldn’t help it. You were too blinded to think properly.
The amount of times Cairo swept your feet, you grew tired. Tired of her games, of her love that began to come off as a hoax. As much as you’d want to holler it out loud, you couldn’t say you were tired of her. Never.
The countless moments where you were left in the dust, the rain. No seriously, the rain.
-
“I’ll be there!” Cairo smiles, your grin wide. “I just need to discuss the essay for my final to Mr. Miller real quick. It should only take 8 minutes max.” The girl assures, rubbing your shoulder as you two e spend our lunch together. You lean into it. A part of you now wishes you could’ve changed it. Maybe you’d feel better not feeling the stabbing pain in your stomach.
“Okay,” you respond softly. “I can’t wait to work on that project with you! I think we’ll amaze her with our studies, then after you can spend the night and we can have ice cream!”
She laughs.
You can’t stop looking at her eyes. Syrupy sweet, not a hint of hesitance. She lifts a cigarette to her mouth, a soft smile on her face. Cairo nods, “We’ll outsmart the whole class with someone as smart as you,” she gives your nose a little boop with her finger before the bell rings.
Quickly, she packs her bags, stopping to look at you from time to time as she stuffs papers in it. Your eyes filled with expression, it comforts her to see the happiness that shines through them. It makes her smile too.
..
The bell had rang, echoing through the hallways as the doors of classrooms slam open. The empty, hollow hallway is now bustling with everyone chattering and speaking to each other, giggling and laughing.
Winnie is by your side, the wavy hair girl walking with your arm linked to hers. “Cairo seems so into her final for Mr. Miller, don’t you think so?” She has the slightest accent, you slowly nod.
“I guess so. She is a writer after all. Not to mention a talented one.” You go through the exits of Tennessee’s high school, stopping at one of the benches right at the exit. “I’m waiting here for Cairo, we’re going to finish our project, adding all the important stuff.” Winnie nods, handing you a lollipop as you take it. “Thanks.”
“See you, Y/N!”
You give her a small wave, watching her leave.
…
It had been ten minutes since the bell rang, the students slowly beginning to die out. You’d call your mom once Cairo would come, you liked having conversations with her anyway. Chatters of students still quietly linger. You stand up, peeking through the gates, they’re closed.
Thirty minutes pass and a sigh escapes your lips, bored. Maybe Cairo is just having more questions to ask, like she always does. You plop the lollipop that Winnie gave you into your mouth, stuffing the wrapper in your jacket.
It had been officially an hour and four minutes. You don’t even know why you waited this long. As if it couldn’t get any worse, rain begins to drizzle down, damping your hair. For the first time, Cairo left you out there, in the rain. You stare at your phone, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles spread to white. You try to wait for a text, anything so Cairo makes it aware that she’d be a little late, but it never comes.
You call your mom, sniffling as you press your ear to the phone, kicking your feet across a puddle. You wipe your eyes,
By the time your mom honks, waving you with a smile on your face, you weakly give one back, walking up to her. Wet clothes stuck to your figure, drenched and shaking. The look on her face gives it all, your mother sees through you no matter what.
“Hi, honey. Where’s Cairo? Didn’t you say that she was going to come to ours today?”
You stiffen, throwing your soaked backpack in the backseat. Cairo didn’t even live that far. She always walks to school. “She’s busy,” you reply, turning away from her. You look out the window, sinking into your seat. “Like always.”
“But didn’t you two have that project, it’s due tomorrow, no?”
“Well she can’t make it, okay?” You mumble.
“Oh, well maybe she can come over some other time,” she leaves it at that.
The more you think about Cairo, the more you feel sick, the lollipop disintegrated in your mouth.
You can’t help but feel the sweetness of the lollipop leave a new awful taste in your mouth. Your mouth fills with saliva, how it always does whenever you are upset. You swallow it down.
You did almost the whole project by yourself, you were up till 2AM.
So when school arrives the next day, you’re barely awake, turning it in and tired eyes completely avoiding Cairo’s gaze.
“8 minutes my ass,” you mutter while slamming the project into the turn-in basket.
-
From that day on, it just kept happening.
Like always, you somehow always manage to come back to Cairo. You can’t help it. To turn away those doe-like eyes makes you feel like you just murdered an innocent creature.
Cairo Sweet.
Sourness coats your tongue when her name rolls off of it.
After countless stand-ups and sobbing in bed, even when you forgive her, you can sense that you two are drifting further apart. She’s been snapping at you a little more often, ignoring you sometimes, it makes you feel unloved. You don’t like it. You really don’t like it, yet you can’t stop it.
“It’s that stupid final she’s doing, Winnie. Ever since Mr. Fucking Miller assigned to her, it’s like she hasn’t had time for anything. She only has the time when it comes to him, “ you rant, wiping your mascara stained eyes with your fingers.
Winnie looks thoughtfully at you, a small frown tugging at her lips. She sighs, patting her thighs, “Come here, sweetheart.”
When you crawl in between her and her comforter, she cuddles you. “Sometimes people are like that. They abandon things when they find a new thing to obsess over. Even when the things are the most important to them. It’s like they forget about what the thing did to make them feel so special and go running off to a new one because it makes them feel good.”
She strokes your hair as you sniffle into her neck. From her eyes, you looked so vulnerable. Like how you did when you first got into arguments with your parents. “I’m sure once that final is over, you two will be back into two peas in a pod. Three, including me at times,” she cracks a smile at you.
You don’t respond, looking away, before mumbling, “Winnie, I don’t think it’s that final.”
“Yeah?”
“Cairo was writing about a prompt to answer what love was,” you look up at her, trying to make her understand. “I read some of it, and it was straight up smut, Winnie.”
You couldn’t believe it when you first read it. The way your eyebrows contorted, lips pursing into a tight line. You memorized one of the lines she wrote as you recited it out loud. “His fingers, long and ribbed, glistened with the arousal that gushed out of Alice’s heat like a riverbed-”
“Okay fuck that shit, who’s “he” exactly?”
“That’s the problem. It’s about a student-teacher relationship Winnie. The final isn’t the issue. She’s trying to convince herself that there's some connection between her and Mr. Miller.”
“That man is at least 80 years old-”
“50.”
“Whatever, but if Cairo is trying to experiment how far she can go with her charms. I’m going to be proud to take the trophy for who has the most reasonable crushes.”
“You cannot be talking right now Winnie.”
“Boris is a different story! But like, for anyone else, I’m an equal opportunist. I’d fuck you.”
“I know.”
“See, reasonable crushes.”
You roll your eyes, it doesn’t really make you feel better.
Winnie thinks for a moment, it’s silent, until you almost see a lightbulb flash above her head. “Cairo loves lantern festivals. She wouldn’t miss one for the world, what about this?..”
-
Your knee bounces up and down, waiting in your usual spot after school for Cairo. It’s the first bench under the tree. As you see her, you’re about to wave, until you see him.
Mr. Miller walking Cairo out of his classroom, patting her shoulder before making eye contact with you briefly. You narrow your eyes as he gives a disgustingly sweet smile to her before turning away. You flip him off, like a fire burning behind your pupils.
Tell your baby that I'm your baby.
“Y/N!” she shouts, grinning as she walks up to you. “Hey!”
“Hi, Cairo.” you greet, offering to take her books, which she thanks.
“I’m almost done with my final essay for Mr. Miller. I think he’ll be able to write my letter of rec for college in the future. Probably going have to meet with him after school on some days.”
“Sounds fine,” you plainly respond, holding her books. “By the way, I was thinking that next Saturday we could spend some time together. Maybe Winnie can come too.”
The writer hums in contentment as you keep going, “I’ve never gone to a lantern festival before, and they’re holding one next week. It’s like 2 hours away and I really wanted to go with you.”
A flutter in your chest erupts as you see your favorite brown eyes shimmer. “Yeah,” she says, “Yes, I’d love to go with you!”
-
After the slow ticks of the clock and marks on the calendar, getting closer to the countdown, Saturday finally comes.
You hate the way it feels so long when you’re in school, waiting for the weekend, but it dashes by when summer break arrives. You especially hate it when you’re waiting for an event, it makes the time go by even slower.
Winnie kept patting your shoulder and teasing you about it. “Probably because you’re looking a bit too forward with spending time with Cairo.” She’d say. “I mean, I love lantern festivals! But you seem so much more excited than I am.”
An oversized tee gets draped over your figure, pairing it with blue jeans as you try to look decent before dashing out the house.
Your mom drives you, in which you're happily hoping to spend the night in Cairo’s bigger car. She told you she brought blankets and stuffies and everything. When you think about it, you grin through the refreshing breeze that blows in your hair.
“You seem extra happy, Sunshine,” your mom notices, smiling at you. “Just how I love you, always so bright.”
The afternoon sun illuminates through the city as minutes and hours pass, changing into a grassy meadow. You stick your head through the window, feeling alive every time the wind hits your hair. Everytime you close your eyes, you see the picture of endless floating lanterns lighting up the night sky.
Like a scene out of Tangled.
You have to actually turn on the radio and sing your feelings out.
“Now she's here, shining in the starlight, Now she's here, suddenly I know. If she's here, it's crystal clear, I'm where I'm meant to go”
-
Two hours pass by, and you hop out of your mother’s car. “I’ll stay nearby, okay? Your aunt's house is only 25 minutes away.”
You nod, kissing her cheek goodbye as the clock hits 5:45. The grassy meadow surrounds you, slightly swaying from the breeze and glowing from the setting sun. You see people setting up their tents, so you lay down a towel and send Cairo a text.
y/n: hey! i’m here, i got us a seat. can’t wait to spend the night in your car!
Birds chirp along with the chatter of people around you. It soothes your body a little as you lean back and take a nap, your mind only on the excitement that you get to spend this moment with Cairo Sweet.
-
You wake up from the sound of fire crackling, your eyes adjusting to the lanterns that people are preparing to let go in about an hour and thirty, when the sun will completely set. The weather is cool, breezy, sunny, and the light blue sky plastered with fluffy clouds. You head to get some floating lanterns, noticing that Cairo isn’t here yet. Maybe it’s traffic.
A nagging feeling tugs in your gut as you hear the giggles of couples decorating the lanterns together.
As you head back with three large lanterns in your hand, you check your phone. No new messages, your shoulders fall to their sides, sighing.
“Y/N!”
You immediately perk up from the call of your name, turning around and seeing Winnie, a bright smile on her face. You wave her over.
“Hi,” you say, looking at her hair that’s put down.
“Hey, cutie, what’s with the sour face?”
The silence is really all she needs as she goes, “Oh. She’s still not here? I thought I was really late.” That made you feel a little worse.
Cairo wouldn’t abandon you, sure she has canceled plans last minute thousands of times, or made you wait longer than usual, but not in the dark. Not in the dark knowing how much you looked forward to this. Your heart tugs again, your breath getting stuck in your throat.
It’s the same feeling your tiny self felt when your childhood best friend moved away, or a thousand times worse than realizing that the tooth fairy wasn’t real.
y/n: where r u? the festival is going to start soon.
Really hoping you’re not going to stand me up again, like the plenty of other times you did. You really wished you could have added that phrase.
6:30 and still no sign of her. You know you’ve cried like a little child because of her, you’ve tried to avoid her in every way possible. Yet no matter what, it always seems that the sweet girl you’ve known comes back to you moments later.
She’s just running late. The tiny voice in your head says, to somehow calm your nerves down. Winnie squeezes your hand, urging you to decorate your lanterns together. So you force the growing lump in your throat with a painful swallow, nodding and beginning to draw flowers that somehow are Cairo’s favorite ones. “It’s going to be okay,” she softly coaxes, and you feel like crying into her arms.
You really thought she wouldn’t do it this time. You really started to believe that she was good at heart for you. Maybe she could be. But you didn’t want to give her the chance anymore, you were officially drained.
The sunset envelopes you and Winnie in its eternal color of the sunshine, though the warm feeling is rather cold. Cold and ugly. You would’ve been used to it, but you drove 2 hours for her. You knew you could count on Winnie, but you traveled so far for Cairo to be able to spend time with her. Now it just seems like she’ll throw you away whenever Mr. Miller is around.
-
She’ll talk about him almost anytime she can, it makes you feel insecure. Sometimes, you wish you could just shake her brain and tell her, “I’m right here.” You were there all along. You would be there when she needed it, but she was never there when you needed her. A moth to a flame.
Even when your heart cracks more and more, to love is to sacrifice, your broken hand is still holding on. Cairo is the only thing you’d ever know about love.
Even when you tell yourself to get over it, to ignore her, you can’t help the way your heart turns into goo when she smiles at you. I won’t let go yet. You promise to yourself as she crashes her lips to yours, alcohol coating her tongue as you have the need for more.
Take me, your heart sings as Cairo, drunk and wanting, tears the bottom of your blouse, the room filling with your breathy moans.
You need to let go, Your brain pounds against your forehead as you’re left in the dark of the movie theater, an empty seat next to you. A seat that was meant for your hand to hold hers.
Why do you manage to always forgive her? Believe that she’ll be “okay” this time? Why did you always let her in knowing that she would do the same thing once again?
-
7:30, the lanterns begin to lift off, your eyes half-lidded with unshed tears as you hold onto your floating lantern. Winnie turns to look at you, but you don’t look back, the small ember glistening against your glossy eyes.
She was just late. She’d come. Your heart grows a little heavy.
“Hey,” she says softly, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Cairo is just stupid, she’s been stupid ever since Miller. But I don’t want to talk about her right now, okay? Let’s spend the night together and we’ll see what to do when it’s over.”
You still avoid eye contact, can you really just feel okay if someone tells you? That’s never worked for you.
A floating lantern symbolizes the hope of the moments ahead and being able to move on. To mark the start of a new beginning. Your eyes flicker to all the children with their family, smiling happily, the couples who are cuddling together as they prepare to let go of their lanterns. Every time you saw something like that, you thought of Cairo. You wondered if she ever thought of you.
I guess fate brought me here, you tell yourself. When your favorite person turns into a memory of a lesson. Gosh, you hated when you saw quotes like that, even worse now that you understood it with each tear that poured out of your eyes.
You cling onto the lantern like it’s the most important thing of your life as you shut your eyes. You think about Cairo, your best friend, someone that you always told yourself loved you. You hope she still did. Winnie feels your head placed on your shoulder as you finally let it go. Finally let her go as it flies away with the specks of others, lighting up the night sky. It was like a reminder that she was slipping away.
Tonight, you thought it would’ve ended differently as you watch it mix in with the glow of other lanterns, other wishes, other endings.
All those times you look into these eyes, even the ones that aren’t hers, you remember that her eyes that once admired you are gone. You’re watching her watching him.
You’re standing here, waiting for something that you knew for a long time might never come. Love’s a game of heartbreak. The latest you could do is slump down to the blanket and toss your body into Winnie’s, closing your eyelids and letting yourself relax. It was cold, yet you didn't bother to ask for a blanket.
“Y/N, baby. We gotta get going.” A voice, soft and sweet coaxes you awake. You're no longer on Winnie’s shoulder, but a lap that you know all too well. You scramble off of Cairo with your eyes wide, blinking, adjusting, before letting yourself cry.
Cairo hasn’t seen you cry in almost ages. Well you’ve never cried in front of her, but knowing that she stood you up again, arriving almost 3 hours later, it tells her a lot of how much you did when she wasn’t there.
Her eyes look at yours that are closed, sniffle, “Hey, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I’m so sorry I missed this-”
“You’re never sorry!” You hiccup, forcing your shut eyes open, “If you were in all the times past, you wouldn’t have left me here again! I had my mom drive me 2 hours just so I could picture myself wishing you were beside me!”
“I-”
When was the last time she made you feel like she actually loved you?
“It seems like you don’t need me anymore, Cairo. You find something else to obsess over and run away when I need you.”
“I do need you,” she argues, looking at you in disbelief. Yet you can see that a part of her knows that you’re right.
“Only when Mr. Miller isn’t here to make you feel good.”
“T-that’s not true!” She stammers, “You aren’t understanding what you’re saying-”
“I always want you when I'm finally fine, Cairo! That’s the problem with you! I can’t stop crawling my way back to you because my heart can’t beat without your reassurance, even if it’s just a sweet glance. But every time I’m standing here, you’re turning me away. And the only way for me to stop loving you is when I’m here, telling you how I’ve felt every single time you’ve left me in the dark for the attention of a 50 year old man that I’ve given you since the start! I’m not some toy that you need at moments- I-I needed you too.” You murmur, looking down, ashamed with the hot tears leaking out of your eyes.
It takes Cairo a moment to pull you back onto her, “I’m sorry,” she tries, her hand around your cheek. “I just.. I didn’t… He failed me on that final and I just needed to know why and I guess-”
“It’s okay,” you say, finally looking into her eyes while you put your hand away from your face. “I tried thinking that maybe it was that final for Miller, that you needed time to write something amazing for your final, like I knew you’d always do. But instead, you made your assignment obsessing over him.”
Gosh you felt so stupid looking back at your naive self. “To see him in the hallways and talking to him while I stood there waiting for you, forgetting that I was even here in the first place.”
Cairo’s silent, eyes pleading as she tries reaching out for your hand, but you pull away. “I’m done waiting for you Cairo. Maybe you can pursue focusing on him more and don’t have to worry about focusing on me.” You bite back a shiver, your body shaking slightly.
She watches you turn away as Winnie wraps you in a blanket. Disappointment flickers in her best friend’s eyes as she helps you walk away. Cairo wishes, oh so terribly that you would turn back, to look at one more time, but you don’t.
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down.
You stop for a brief moment, about to hop into Winnie’s car, before turning to her, looking down at her shoes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough, Cairo. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I’m sorry it ended like this, I never met to hurt you.” She wants to say, but bites her tongue as your body slips away from sight, Winnie starting the engine. It was too late now.
Cairo made you wait, made you see a flicker of hope in her candle and she blew it. She made you wait in the cold.
-
She really wrote her story on your heart. But was it ever a good one? Maybe there were some that lingered freely in your heart, but her story would’ve never lasted like you wanted.
It was rare, she almost never saw you sitting on the same first bench. There were days where she immediately ran out of Mr. Miller’s classroom to push through the students just to go to that bench, to be reminded that you weren’t there to wait anymore. There was no one to wait for her anymore. The spot was always empty.
You’ll always want her when you are finally fine, even when you’d feel like your heart healed, it never would. Because you always needed her. You can’t heal without her.
Now every time your eyes meet in the hallways, you’re the first one to tear your gaze. Maybe it was just for the best. Tear your eyes away from her pretty ones before she tears your heart apart.
You wish that one day, when you meet her when you two are older, she’ll be the person you once knew. Your Cairo Sweet. The one that didn’t leave the sickening taste on your tongue.
#Spotify#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#cairo sweet x reader#cairo sweet x y/n#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x reader#cairo sweet#vada cavell x reader#vada cavell x you#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega#jenna ortega imagine
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house on the cape.
based on last friday’s video bc im obsessed with it. (events that happened in the vlog may not be in order just so the story flows how i want, also might add or get rid of some things for that same reason ofc). definitely gonna be multiple parts if yall like it so please let me know!!
summary: when the triplets come back home from la, they reunite with their favorite summer tradition, staying in the house on the cape. amidst all of the familiar laughter, and reminiscing on old memories, y/n can’t ignore the feeling stirring in her heart. something that went deeper than friendship. as she grapples with the fact that her feelings for her lifelong best friend, matt, are more than what’s just at the surface, she must learn to navigate and balance the unspoken feelings, and the gut wrenching fear of risking it all.
a/n: sorry guys but i think im scrapping all my old fics. i just have lost interest in them and i dont want to give yall something that i just half assed yk. i just need something new 😖🙏 don’t hate me pls. also i didn’t proof read and i never do so hopefully this all makes sense LMAO
……………………..
“BOYS TRIP!” chris shouts through the house.
the triplets are back in boston from being in la. i’d be lying if i said that i didn’t wish that these visits would last forever. being across the country from my best friends sucked.
“oh yeah , and you’ll be there too. you’re one of the boys.” chris points at me, smiling before loading the car with our bags.
“chris please never say that again.” i cringe, but fail to keep in my laughter.
“i agree. that was disgusting.” nick chimes in.
“just wanted to make sure you know you’re included.” chris throws his hands up in defense.
“thanks.” i smile and shake my head before getting in the car.
we were staying at their house in cape cod, something all of us looked forward to each summer growing up.
we arrive at nate’s house to pick him up. after the group effort of showering him in compliments for his new hair cut, we get back in the car.
sandwiched between nick and nathan, i check the time on my phone. nick grabs my wrist and moves it out of the way to give himself a better view of my lock screen.
“that is such a cute picture.” he says admiringly. it was a picture of matt and i. the picture was taken from behind while matt gave a piggy back ride back to the car because my feet hurt from wearing heels to madison’s concert.
“you took it.” i laugh.
“i know. i really out did myself huh.” he hypes himself up. i smile and roll my eyes.
once we get to the cape house, we unload the car. all of our bags scattered haphazardly throughout our respective rooms. the same rooms each of us have stayed in for years. nate with chris, nick with matt, and me, having been the only girl, with my own room.
“let’s go to the beach!” nate walks out into the kitchen, clapping his hands together.
…
the beach was just within walking distance. matt and i fell behind the rest of the group.
“i’m so glad you’re back.” i tell him.
“me too. i missed you.” he replies.
“i missed you too.” i admit. “a lot.” i look up and meet his eyes. we just stare at each other for a second. we didn’t really need to say anything. it was almost just a mutual understanding that each other were our favorite person.
if only he knew the extent.
the only person i’ve confided in about my feelings for matt was nate. which was precisely why he kept shooting me knowing glances anytime matt and interacted. nate swore that he knew i was in love with matt for years, before i even knew myself.
i can’t exactly pinpoint when i fell in love with my best friend, but i do remember when i realized.
flashback
matt and i sit together in the hammock string between two large oak trees in the backyard of the cape house. the gentle breeze swaying us back and forth softly. the sun was going down just to the right of us. beautiful pink and orange hues paint the sky.
“i could stay right here forever.” matt breaks the silence that had fallen between us.
“me too.” i reply softly.
“oh hey i have something for you” he digs his hand around in his pocket and pulls out a baby pink seashell. he hands it it me.
“i’ve never seen a pink one like that before.” he tells me as i admire the gift.
“me either. i love it. thanks matt.” i smile sweetly at him.
“of course.” he returns the smile.
i feel the heartbeat in my chest racing and my cheeks heating up. the feeling i had been carrying around with me for quite some time became abundantly clear.
i was in love with my best friend.
when i got home that night, i tied a string around the shell, and wore it as a necklace. and i haven’t taken it off since.
end of flashback
that was back when we were 16. 4 whole years i’ve gone hiding my biggest secret from the one person i told everything to.
our gaze was interrupted by chris. “jesus, yall are some slow pokes” he hollers back at us.
we both laugh and pick up out pace.
soon we arrive at the beach. i’ve always loved the beach. it truly is my happy place.
especially when i’m with matt.
nick snaps pictures here and there.
“oh my gosh matt look! this is just like your tattoo!” i hold out a shell to him.
“oh shit you’re right.” he holds out his arm, revealing his tattoo.
“that’s sick.” chris admires the similarity while nick takes a picture.
…
later that night, we all sit in the living room debating on what movie to watch.
“chris im not watching planet of the apes again. we’ve watched it like 9 times already.” nick argues, shutting down chris’s pleads.
“how about grown ups?” matt suggests.
“yes i love that movie.” nate agrees.
“that’s fine with me.” nick shrugs and starts typing it in.
“is that good with you?” matt leans down to where i was sitting in front of him, his voice soft and genuine.
“yeah that’s good with me.” i tell him.
he smiles and pats the spot on the couch next to him, gesturing me to come sit up there with him. i stand up from my spot on the floor and sit down next to him. he drapes a blanket over the both of us.
about an hour or so into the movie, my eyes get heavy. i lean my head on matt’s shoulder, to which he responds with wrapping his arm around me. this was nothing out of the ordinary. there’s pictures going back to when we were in preschool of the two of us practically fused together passed out on the living room floor.
suddenly, a gentle shake of my shoulders woke me up from a sleep i hadn’t even known i fell into. my eyes flutter, slowly regaining focus. when they do, i’m met with matt’s gentle blue eyes.
“hey, you wanna go lay down in your bed? i don’t want your neck to be sore.” he asks, genuinely concerned for my comfort.
i look around, everyone else appeared to have gone into their rooms.
“yeah i probably should.” i say through a yawn.
matt grabs my hand and helps me stand up from the couch. we walk down the hallway. my room came before his and nicks.
“goodnight matt.” i say, slowly turning the doorknob.
“goodnight y/n. see ya in the morning.”
i toss and turn in bed, unable to fall asleep. i stand up from bed, and leave my room. slowly making my way to the kitchen to get a drink, careful to not wake anyone up.
i open the fridge and grab a water. before i can take a sip, i hear a familiar voice behind me.
“can’t sleep?” the sudden breach of silence made me jump a little. i turn around and see matt. he was leaned up against the door frame. his sweatpants falling dangerously low on his figure, his arm under his shirt itching his shoulder, exposing his midriff.
“nope. you?” i set my water down on the counter.
“hm mm” he replies.
we stand in silence for a few moments before matt breaks the silence again.
“wanna go to the beach?”
….
a/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF YALL LIKE THIS. SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS WELCOME AND MY INBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN 🙏 i’m using my old taglist, so lmk if you want taken off or added to it!
taglist: @honestlybabymiracle @pepsiimaxx @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattestrella @luvmxtt @rac00ns-are-c00l4
#nick sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets x reader#chrissturnioloxreader#nathan doe#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nate doe#space camp wellness#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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It’s finally Summer Exchange time bbs!@steddieonmywaywardson I hope I did your prompts justice :)
Part 1/2
Corroded Coffin Tattoo gets a new client that shakes up their summer.
Read on ao3 • Rated E • eventual steddie, platonic stobin, Corroded Coffin bros, Chrissy/Argyle mentioned, modern era, no UD, everyone ends up in Cali, slow burn (for me), inadvisable tattooing procedures, smut in part 2
Many thanks to the invaluable @fuctacles for fact checking and betaing my overzealous imagination and @lawrencebshoggoth for always hyping me up and dealing with my annoying self 🖤
Eddie looked down at his iPad calendar with a sigh. Three mainstream boring designs back to back. They paid the rent but he wished he could get to a point where he was tattooing what he actually wanted.
But then there was a consultation with a new client. Steve Harrington had met Argyle at a pool party and had apparently got drunk enough to show off his ‘wicked scars.’ Argyle immediately suggested Eddie to tattoo over them.
Getting the first message from a random Instagram asking about his availability and experience in covering scars had shocked him until the person explained. Scrolling through the stranger’s posts had been even more confusing. In most of his pictures he was either wrapped around a very cute — but obviously very gay — girl, or she was tagged as the photographer of the picture. Her page was much of the same, better edited pictures of them from the same day.
They’d gone back and forth with ideas (and banter) for almost a week in his Instagram DMs before Steve made the appointment. Had actually called the shop (no one did that) and asked about Eddie’s schedule. Argyle looked at him like he had three heads when he asked him to transfer the call to his office.
On the phone, Steve had been a bit more professional but somehow warm and friendly even talking about mundane things like his work schedule and Eddie found himself not wanting to hang up. Steve had asked specifically about one of Eddie’s favorite pieces, an eerie take on a harpy with disintegrating wings and an eagle skull for a face. Before he knew it, Eddie was pacing and waving his arms excitedly asking about what he had liked about it and what they could incorporate into Steve’s vision. Jeff had propped himself in his doorway with a knowing look until he got up and shut the door.
As he was cleaning up his station after the girl with the birds over her collarbone finally left, he froze in his tracks when a familiar face walked through the front door, sunlight catching all the highlights in his hair and turning his eyes more green than brown. His Instagram had not done him justice.
He quickly tried to pull his attention back to gathering up paper towels and rewrapping his gear. Get a hold of yourself, Munson. It’s just a normal consult. With a fucking beautiful male model-looking asshole (he wasn’t an asshole though) who he’d soon be getting to put his own work on and touch-
“Eddie! Steve is here,” Argyle thankfully turned his back to their lobby to smirk at him. All the guys had been teasing him this week after Eddie drunkenly gushed about him and the tattoo he’d soon get to do on him.
“Thanks, Argyle,” he huffed. “Give me a second.”
He quickly went to the bathroom to wash his hands and stare at himself in the mirror. “Be cool, dork. It’s a consult. Try to be fucking normal,” he hissed at his reflection. With a sigh, he went back out to face the music.
Suddenly he was in his tiny office in the back of the shop, overwhelmed by the delicious cologne or whatever it was that made Steve Harrington smell so fucking good.
Eddie poked at his iPad for a long moment like he’d never seen it before, feeling the weight of Steve’s eyes on him but refusing to look up. With a low frustrated noise, Eddie finally found the file he needed and almost threw the tablet into Steve’s lap.
“Uh. So th-this is what I’ve been messing around with. You know, since we talked. But we can change anything you don’t like! Whatever you want-“ he forced himself to stop talking as he finally allowed himself to look at Steve’s face.
“Wow, Eddie. This is, like, a lot different than I thought it would be.”
He felt his shoulders sag. Of course it sucked. No one liked his creepy creatures enough to have them on their bodies forever. He should just-
“Hey, no, that’s not what I meant.” Steve put his hand on his arm and Eddie looked up at him. “It’s awesome. Even better than I imagined. Can you tell me about it?”
Steve looked at him like no one else ever had when he’d shown them his work, actually interested and excited in way that made Eddie’s already fast heart stutter against his ribs.
“I-it’s, you know, you said you wanted a mermaid sea creature type thing. No tentacles,” he chuckled. Steve had been very adamant about that in their conversation, only giving Eddie that strict stipulation. That and no nudity, since he taught swimming lessons to kids and didn’t want to be paranoid about covering it.
Steve huffed a laugh but shuddered. Eddie let himself relax further.
“It’s essentially a creepy mermaid,” he said, reaching over to zoom into the drawing. “At first I was thinking sirens, you know, luring boats to their death, but they’re actually half birds and not underwater. This way we can play around with the tail or hair or bubbles or waves or whatever to cover anything we need to.”
Steve stared unblinkingly at his drawing with wide eyes. “It’s perfect. I love how dark and ominous it is. That’s really what I like about your art, Eds. It has so much raw emotion in it. She looks otherworldly and so sad.”
Eddie sucked in a breath at both the nickname and the compliment. No one had ever grasped the intricacies of his art, usually shrugging it off as horror or fantasy.
“Y-yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Thanks. Really. That’s- yeah,” he shook his head in disbelief. Steve fucking Harrington.
Far too soon, his watch buzzed, reminding him of his next appointment in thirty minutes. How had they’d been talking for half an hour already?
“Oh, well, I- um,” Eddie stuttered. He had never felt like this around any other clients, any other person really. “Can you, uh, show me where this is going?” He tried to smile normally.
“Yeah!” Steve grinned and stood, reaching for his belt.
Eddie jumped up too, the iPad on his lap dropping to the floor. Kneeling down to reach it, Eddie found himself looking up and making eye contact with Steve as he unzipped his jeans. “Wait, uh! Jeez man, I can like, step out, or-“
But Steve shrugged with a small laugh, toeing his shoes off so he could slide his pants down his long legs. “You’re going to see it all anyways, right? I’m not shy. Most of the tristate area has seen me in a Speedo, dude.”
Eddie winced, just now remembering why he wanted an underwater tattoo, his stories from his time as the captain of his college swimming team. Don’t picture it right now, freak.
He forced himself to stand while averting his eyes, somehow kneeling at this Greek god’s feet as he took his pants off hadn't already melted his brain but it was close.
The picture Steve had sent of his scars was just skin, and Eddie hadn’t known where it was. Should probably have asked, in hindsight. As Steve pulled the bottom of his tight boxer briefs up to show the back of his thigh, Eddie was glad Steve was turned away from him as his eyes trailed down the muscular thighs to the incredible calves. Somehow even his socked feet were attractive.
“Uh huh. Okay, um. How about you sit on the bed- on the couch! I have to- I’m gunna, you know, grab something.”
He ran out of his office and almost knocked over Gareth at the printer.
“Woah dude, are you okay?”
Eddie nodded as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “If I pass out, don’t let Steve do CPR, okay?”
There was a snickering laugh from behind him and he groaned.
“You don’t do CPR if the person is still breathing, buddy,” Steve supplied helpfully from his office doorway, still in just his boxers. Eddie wanted to dissolve into the floor.
Gareth handed him a bottle of water with a smirk and Eddie snatched a roll of tracing paper from beside the printer. “Thanks so much, Gare,” he grumbled.
“Don’t mention it.”
Steve thankfully didn’t bring up his awkwardness as he traced the back of his thigh on the paper, trying to get the overall shape and size they’d be going for.
“Oh, would it be possible to do like, something up higher?”
Eddie swallowed. “Up… higher?”
Steve did look back this time, making Eddie quickly try to settle his eyes somewhere innocent as Steve pulled the leg of his boxer briefs even higher, onto the perfectly pert cheek where there was another line of scarring.
“To cover this?”
“Sure.” He looked up into Steve’s big round eyes and got lost for a second. He would’ve agreed to anything in that moment, truthfully. Eddie would’ve tattooed his entire body if given the chance. “Um, hold it up there for another minute?” He directed as he grabbed the roll of tracing paper and tore off a longer strip.
Somehow he sunk into some professionalism he didn’t know he possessed as he used the sharpie to outline this very attractive man’s very expansive ass cheek and thigh.
He did leave the room afterwards to go back to the bathroom, throwing his long hair up into a messy knot to get it off his sweaty neck and splashed water on his face.
Exchanging pleasantries and telling Steve (with his pants on) that he’d send over some examples in the next week or so, he got through his hour unscathed.
At the bar with the boys that night, Gareth dramatically recreated his embarrassing moment outside his office. Eddie took the ribbing, downing his drink with a cringe as Drew shoved his shoulder.
“Just think, soon you’ll be tattooing the hottie’s ass for hours,” he laughed.
For some reason (a very good reason), he hadn’t allowed that part to solidify in his mind, and suddenly he had the image of Steve sprawled out under him as he tried to keep his hand steady to not fuck up his tattoo because he was staring at his ass.
“I’m fucked,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands and trying to ignore the ruckus the others made at his misfortune.
Eddie had never been this nervous or had such detailed discussions with a client about their tattoo before. Steve seemed genuinely interested in any and all lore associated with the tattoo and his work in general, shockingly even asking about some that were way back in Eddie’s instagram.
Before he knew it, Steve was sitting in the lobby again and Eddie tried to ignore everyone as he finished up a Roman Numeral date and sent his client to go look in the mirror.
Then it was Steve’s turn and his big eyes were staring into his.
His stencil was all prepared; Eddie had kept it safe in a special spot in his work station and had found himself staring at it between appointments.
“Hey Eds, ready to rock and roll?”
Eddie couldn’t help the wide grin that split his face as Steve approached him, Argyle helpfully sending him back to his station.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he mumbled, turning to start gathering his supplies.
In one of their (many) conversations in the time since the consultation, Eddie had advised Steve to come to this appointment in loose fitting shorts so they could just roll or pin up what they needed to get out of the way.
The short basketball shorts were not exactly what he had expected, but Eddie tore his eyes away from the way they hugged his ass and went to grab the stencil from its Important Spot.
His heart beating out of his chest while he meticulously shaved Steve’s butt cheek and thigh should’ve clued him in to how much this appointment was going to test him.
The voice of reason in his head (which annoyingly sounded like Uncle Wayne) was adamant that he be professional. Keep your head down and get to work.
That was easier said than done, however.
At first, Steve joked around with him, sprawled across his padded table with his arms pillowed under his chin. They both kept waiting for the next crazy song Argyle would put on, as he tended to jump from unheard of indie to hippie chique to instrumental video game soundtracks.
He’d explained this would most likely hurt worse than his previous tattoos, tattooing over scar tissue was a bitch. Steve had waved him off.
“Fuuuuck,” Steve whined the first time he traced the needle over the scarring on his upper thigh.
“Not too late to back out,” Eddie chuckled, knowing it would have the opposite effect.
“No way man,” he’d huffed before quickly rearranging himself on the table, gripping the corner harshly. “Keep going.”
Steve was definitely not the first attractive person he’d had on his tattoo bench, but for some reason all of his little noises and gasps and curses were sinking directly into his soul.
“Ready for a break?” Eddie asked when he’d almost finished with the outline. He hoped Steve would let them both take a breather. He desperately needed a cigarette and maybe a quick wank in the bathroom.
“I’m good. I think it’s- ah- it’s definitely getting easier,” Steve lied.
“The shading and color is going to be worse,” Eddie warned. “And we haven’t really, um, migrated north.”
Steve hissed, digging his fists into his eyes adorably. “Oh shit, you’re right. That’s going to suck, isn’t it?”
Eddie nodded solemnly, forgetting Steve wouldn’t be able to see. “Sure is, Stevie.” Not sure where the nickname had come from, he quickly forged ahead. “You don’t need to, I mean, how many people are really seeing it?”
Steve laughed sharply, Eddie pulling the tattoo gun away quickly. “Sorry. You don’t think I’m getting any, huh?”
Eddie felt his cheeks redden. “Th-that’s not what I meant! I’m sure you’re, like, you know, getting lots!”
Steve laughed harder and louder, a bit hysterically. “Oh, now you think I’m a slut?”
Eddie looked around for help but everyone was pointedly not looking at them.
“Oh my god, your face, Eds,” Steve gasped out, up on his elbow now to laugh at him. “I’m messing with you.” He continued laughing, but slowing down now. “Ahh, you are right though. A lot less people are seeing the goods lately. I’m not parading around in speedos anymore, at least.”
Eddie’s brain helpfully shut down at that thought so he didn’t keep putting his foot in his mouth.
“Are we at the break time?” Steve asked when he realized they were both just staring at each other.
“Yeah? Yeah! We can- whatever you want! Let me just-uh,“ he made himself stop making a fool of himself as he wiped a paper towel across the ink.
Eddie helpfully pointed Steve to the restroom first and he slunk to his office.
Jeff poked his head in, a wide grin on his face. “Having fun, Tedster?”
“Shuddup,” he grumbled, aggressively opening drawers in his desk, shoving things around.
“Did you leave your dignity in your desk somewhere?” Jeff teased.
Eddie groaned, then held up a battered pack of cigarettes triumphantly.
“Jeez, that bad, huh? You haven’t had nicotine since-“
Eddie held up a hand. “Nuh uh. Give me this, please, just, lay off. I’m-“
“A mess. I’ve never seen you like this with a client, man. All stammery and heart eyes. ‘Whatever you want, Stevie.’ What was that?”
Eddie shushed him loudly. The place was not huge. “Alright, alright. I don’t know what’s happening, okay? But I gotta get through it so if I can just self medicate in peace, please?”
The first pull of smoke into his lungs was amazing, leaning against the front wall of the shop, sunshine beating down on him. He felt like maybe he could survive this.
Until Steve was again laid out on his table, a cocky little smile on his face. Eddie tried to ignore it and the insane urge to ask him if he’d heard what Jeff had been saying, instead meticulously setting up his tray with ink pots and everything he needed.
“Ready, hot shot?” Came out of his mouth, snarky.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve sassed back, making Eddie laugh and breaking this bubble of uncertainty.
Steve had come back from their break without complaint, so it appeared he hadn’t had an issue with anything he heard or anything Eddie had done.
“Oh my god,” Steve gasped as the first swipe of color went on. “You weren’t kidding.”
It was then that Eddie realized he hadn’t done anything to settle his other problem. When he went back to the tray for more ink, he tried to surreptitiously readjust his pants and twisted away from Steve’s line of sight.
Steve’s noises were almost constant high needy noises now. In addition, Eddie was forced to settle his hand basically on Steve’s ass to complete the waves and bubbles above the mermaid. He decided to just keep going, no reason to switch spots to have to go back. Eventually he’d be tattooing and having to run his hand over and over the pert cheek. Don’t think about that.
“C-can we stop?” Steve panted.
Eddie froze.
“Sure. You okay?” He instantly searched his face. Had he been so in the zone that he hadn’t realized Steve was really struggling? Could he have been that deep in his own head that he hadn’t checked in with his client? “I’m so sorry- we-“
Steve sucked in several deep breaths, repositioning now that Eddie had stopped tattooing. Shifting onto his side to face him. “I’m okay. Just- a lot, uh, happening.”
Eddie quickly stood to grab Steve a bottle of water, pulling off his black rubber gloves on his way.
“No worries, we can chill, take a break, cut it short. Whatever we need to do,” Eddie rattled off quickly as he passed him the bottle.
Steve gulped half of the water then shook his head. “I think I just need a minute. Got kinda intense, I dunno.” He shook his head, hunching up his shoulders, looking small and overwhelmed in a way that made Eddie want to reach out for him. Keep him safe.
“Hey. No big. I warned you this would be a lot. I’m really sorry for not checking in.” He dropped down onto his stool, and he watched as Steve sort of curled into himself more. But there wasn’t much he could hide in his little shorts. “Oh. Um. That’s normal, too. Bodies are weird.” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but he could feel his cheeks warm.
Steve groaned and covered his face. “Oh my god,” he breathed.
They sat in silence for a long moment. Then Eddie had an idea.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
Steve seemed even more anxious when he returned to his station, almost shaking as he bit into a cuticle and ran his other hand through his hair.
“You’re okay. Do you trust me?” The heavy question hung in the air between them. “I mean-“
“Yes.”
Eddie’s heart stopped then ratcheted even faster against his ribs. He grinned down at this gorgeous man on his table.
“Put these on. They should fit.”
His black sweatpants were a bit short on Steve, his ass and thighs taking up more room than his own. But it would work, and they hid more than his thin shorts.
Now that he was decent, Eddie gestured for Steve to follow him.
“Argyle, we’re taking a break. Gunna go see Chris.”
“You got it. Tell her I said hey,” Argyle called from his corner, not raising his eyes from the guy he was piercing.
Outside, Eddie watched Steve become more and more relaxed as they walked to the end of the block.
“Chris?” He finally asked, cocking his head adorably. Like a puppy.
Eddie grinned. “You’ll see.”
Inside the brightly colored ice cream shop, Steve almost ran excitedly to the front counter just as Chrissy came from the back, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Cunningham? You’re Chris?”
“Oh my god!” She shrieked. “Harrington? What are you doing here?”
Eddie looked between them, shocked. Chrissy had come around the counter to launch herself into Steve’s arms, hugging him tight and squealing as he spun her around.
This wasn’t how Eddie had expected this to go. “Uhh?”
Chrissy thankfully caught his deer in headlights expression and let go, laughing. “Eddie! Where’d you dig this one up from?”
“He found me! Sorta. Argyle found him,” he snorted. “I’m doing a piece for him.”
Chrissy beamed at him, nodding. “Ahh, that explains it. C’mon you two, sit down. What can I tempt you with, Steve?”
While Steve downed a milkshake and Eddie massacred a banana split, Eddie learned that Steve and Chrissy had gone to school together back in Indiana. Somehow both of them had bounced around before ending up in California. Steve explained he’d always wanted to live near the ocean.
Chrissy asked about the tattoo he was getting, and Eddie watched enraptured as Steve took the question, excitedly detailing the dark mermaid.
“It’s to cover up some scarring on my leg,” he explained.
“Ohhh yeah, from your-“
Steve suddenly leaned over the table to cover Chrissy’s mouth. Eddie burst out laughing, unsure what was happening, but watched Chrissy and Steve have a silent conversation through raised eyebrows.
“Ewww!” Steve pulled his hand back and wiped it on his (Eddie’s) pant leg. “She licked me!”
“Not surprised. Chris is a hardass.” He shot her a wide grin as she glared at him and flipped him off. “She plays dirty.”
“Eddie doesn’t know about your accident?”
“Chrissy, I’m begging you,” Steve wailed dramatically.
Smirking, she took a small sip from her own milkshake, eying the both of them.
“I have no idea what’s going on,” Eddie chuckled. “But we need to get going if we’re trying to wrap up the rest of your tattoo today.”
Steve agreed and they both hugged Chrissy, Steve grabbing her number to make plans for lunch another day.
Shaking his head to himself, Eddie chuckled as they walked back down the road, “That was unexpected.”
“You aren’t kidding. What a small world, huh?”
“Maybe it’s a sign. Just so you know, her and Argyle have been in like an on again, off again thing for a while. But-“
Steve shuddered. “Nah man, she’s like my little sister. That’s not a problem.”
Eddie held the tattoo shop door open for Steve who smirked at him.
Feeling bad that he hadn’t thought of it before, he sent Steve to his station and went to grab the black canvas partition to put in front of them, separating them from the rest of the shop. Hopefully it helped Steve relax and not feel as anxious.
“Better?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded a few times, then slid out of his (Eddie’s) sweatpants. Eddie turned his back to get his stuff organized again while Steve got himself situated on the table.
“C-can you… uh, pull your shorts up?” Eddie winced at his stuttering question. Again he was struck with the realization that he was never this unprofessional and simpering with any other client.
But Steve reached a hand back to uncover his leg and butt to him, pretty much tucking the extra fabric between his cheeks. Eddie swallowed.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime,” Steve sassed in response.
Eddie snorted. At least he was feeling better.
He got back in the zone, shading and coloring in but making sure he kept checking in this time.
“Good?” He huffed as he wiped the paper towel across the scarred area on his butt.
“So good,” Steve groaned and Eddie barked a laugh.
“Need a break?”
“No, just get the worst bits over with, will you?”
Eddie chuckled and went over the scar again with the tattoo gun, seeing Steve clench his fist in his periphery.
He tried his best to quickly go over the scarred skin, to limit the amount of pain he was putting Steve through.
Until he gasped and Eddie pulled back, instantly stopping and tracking across his face.
“Sorry. I’m okay. I dunno. Maybe more nerve endings there or something,” he rambled, wide eyed and looking pale.
“Almost done, I promise. You need your water?”
Steve nodded shakily and Eddie handed the now surely lukewarm bottle over, watching as Steve downed it, his Adam’s apple bobbing attractively.
Eddie stood to go grab a cold water for both of them and impulsively picked up some wrapped cookies they kept around for everyone. Definitely not to bide his time while Steve got himself together, and definitely not because it was crumbling Eddie’s already dwindling self control. Absolutely not. He was a goddamn professional.
Steve was propped on his side again, but he didn’t look as nervous or shaken as last time.
“Oooh, a milkshake and then a cookie? You know something about my sweet tooth, Eds?”
The nickname caught him off guard, as did the shit eating grin and the new twinkle in his eye.
Eddie giggled, coughed, then managed a lower laugh. “Ah, I can’t say that I do, but it helps to keep your sugar up. Or just something to keep your mind off the pain.”
Steve groaned goodnaturedly, getting himself back into position on the table, propping himself on an elbow to munch on the cookie.
Eddie focused on shading around and over the scars first, making sympathetic noises at Steve’s whines and gasps. This may be the most trying session of his career. Could he put ‘good under pressure, ex: attractive client whimpering’ on his resume?
He powered through the rest of the shading, making sure he kept an eye on Steve but trying his best to tune out his (sexy) noises and didn’t really pay any attention to what was coming out of his mouth.
“Fucking hell, Eddie,” Steve panted as he tried to gently wipe off all the mess and clean him up. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from commenting or moaning along with him.
Eddie insisted he wear his sweatpants home.
After everyone had cleaned up from their last client, Eddie suddenly looked up and had everyone’s eyes on him.
“Uhh?”
“Dude. What was that?” Drew was closest.
Gareth chimed in with a smirk, “That was Steve,” dragging his name out like they were in middle school.
Eddie groaned. He could feel his cheeks heating up and he did not want to be ridiculed any further.
“Oh, Bredward, it was disgusting.” Jeff came over and threw himself dramatically across Eddie’s chair. “You two were over here giggling at each other like kindergarteners. And I’ve never heard you gushing over a client like that.”
Eddie opened his mouth to argue but the rest of the guys decided to pipe up to give examples.
“Doing such a good job, almost done, I promise.”
“A bit more. You can do it. C’mon.”
“I’ve got you, Stevie.”
“That’s it, deep breaths for me.”
“I didn’t!”
“You did!” Gareth nodded and Eddie grimaced.
“He took him on a date down to Chrissy’s halfway through!” Argyle supplied.
The rest of the guys stopped and turned to Eddie, who just made a face and nodded shortly in silent confirmation of this ridiculousness. There was an uproar of gasps and groans, making Eddie drop down onto his stool, groaning himself and throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling while they continued.
Jeff seemed to sober first. “What the fuck, man?”
“I don’t know. I- um, got a little carried away. I guess.”
“You guess,” Gareth huffed. “I felt like I was listening to a 900 number next to me. You know these cubicle walls aren’t soundproof, right? I had to tell my client you guys were dating because she was concerned.”
“What?”
“Bro, he was over here sounding like a pornstar and you were just as bad. I couldn’t tell her the truth!”
Eddie covered his face finally. He knew it had been too much, but hearing it from his friends made it all seem worse. Had Steve been uncomfortable with him? He hadn’t said anything. Eddie probably royally fucked this up for himself.
“Shit.”
@steddiesummerexchange
#steddie#steddie summer exchange#tattoo artist eddie munson#swimmer Steve Harrington#stranger things fic#mine#Chrissy/argyle#tattoo au#posting this at midnight may not be the best idea but eh
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Why Eloise is My Favorite Character
First off, look at that beautiful face. Claudia is deadass pretty. But besides that, she’s the one that has visibly gone through the most character development and it was subtle as well. When I watched season 3 part 2 trailer(garbage like I predicted it’d be) watching Eloise and the maturity and concern she had for her brother, insisting Penelope to tell him, that she can’t lie to him and expect him to love her(which he’ll end up doing anyway but fuck Polin) and even given Penelope a chance to tell him. The mercy she showed Penelope despite what she’s done and the pain she caused her; the trailer made me finally come to the conclusion that she’s my favorite character.
I was iffy bout Eloise at the beginning of season 1. I know many were annoyed with her and said she was a pick me girl—I even thought, “booo, here we go, one of those annoying buffoon feminists who don’t know how good they have it.” She wasn’t annoying, but she sure was self-righteous about women’s roles in society and how they shouldn’t have to be subjected to the marriage mart and all the feminist bible thumping bs and saying this from her ivory tower.
But you know what she did? She walked down those tower steps, willingly left that ivory tower to go expand her views and learn outside of it, something that women in the ton wouldn’t do. She put herself at risk to broaden her horizon.
“You wish to follow your heart. I wish to nurture my mind.”
Eloise didn’t reject Theo’s criticism of her limited understanding and her privileged position. She took that to seek greater understanding beyond what she knows so I really don’t know how in the living shit people think she’s self-absorbed, especially after she starts interacting with Theo.
Eloise is brusque and may come off as abrasive, but she has integrity, is gracious, and is kind-hearted. She sought out LW for a selfless cause: to help Penelope and her family from ruin. She helped LW escape from the Queen.
The times Penelope has come with her crocodile tears, Eloise dropped everything to comfort her despite Pen insulting with her “pretty Bridgerton” comments(but she’s a bad friend, amirite?)
She didn’t see the lower class as beneath her but as people to learn from(but she’s blind to her privilege, right Penelope stan?)
She was one of the few who showed compassion and understanding for Marina's situation. Despite her being sheltered(that a lot of anti-Eloise fans get their rocks off in exaggerating), she knew that Marina was in a shit place and treated shamefully.
She knows there aren’t many women who share her views and thought processes, but that doesn’t stop her from having them and voicing them and hopes that women would also go against social conditioning.
“How else should I be? Married and silent?”
She kept Penelope’s secret for months. She didn’t try to destroy Penelope or get back at her. She just cut her off and moved on with her life. She took the high road in this situation, a thing that some adults don’t even do.
When she realized that her gossiping hurt Penelope, she sought her out, admitted fault, and apologized. That was incredibly brave and mature. She might be angry at Penelope, but she pushed back when Cressida was mean, even apologized to Pen on Cressida’s behalf.. She didn’t push Colin to be cruel to Penelope just because she had a fall out with her. Eloise is A LOT better than me because if I was in her shoes, Colin finding out bout Whistledown would be the least of Penelope’s problems.
Eloise is just a joy to see on screen, especially in S3 where she is literally the only voice of reason and her suffering with this LW business got me weeping(especially since we know Pen will suffer nothing from it). She better have a good conclusion by the end of the season. The show has failed in almost everything this season.
Don’t fail on Eloise.
#Eloise appreciation#justice for eloise#eloise bridgerton#bridgerton#eloise deserves love#Xoxoxo Eloise#Eloise is my fav#No one can stop me from loving her no one
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Yeosang meeting his newborn baby
newdad!yeosang x newmom!reader
Genre: pure fluff
Warnings: none
Yeosang had always imagined this day, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it. He and his girlfriend had spent months preparing for the arrival of their baby, decorating the nursery, attending prenatal classes, and reading every book they could find on parenting. Yet, as he sat in the living room, idly flipping through a magazine, he realized how surreal it all felt.
His girlfriend, Y/N, was in the kitchen, humming a tune while preparing a snack. She was radiant, her pregnancy glow making her even more beautiful in Yeosang’s eyes. He loved watching her, seeing the way she tenderly cradled her growing belly, already so full of love for their unborn child.
"Yeosang, do you want some fruit?" Y/N called out, breaking Yeosang from his thoughts.
"Sure, that sounds great," he replied, getting up to join her in the kitchen.
Just as he reached the doorway, he saw Y/N’s expression change. She looked down, a mixture of surprise and panic on her face. "Yeosang, I think... I think my water just broke."
For a moment, Yeosang was frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Okay, okay, we need to go to the hospital," he said, trying to stay calm. "Do you have your bag ready?"
Y/N nodded, already moving towards the hallway where their hospital bag was packed and waiting. Yeosang grabbed the keys and helped Y/N to the door, his mind racing with a mix of excitement and fear.
The drive to the hospital was a blur. Yeosang kept glancing over at Y/N, who was breathing through her contractions, her face a mix of determination and discomfort. "You’re doing great, Y/N," he said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "We’re almost there."
When they finally arrived at the hospital, the staff quickly took over, whisking Y/N into a wheelchair and guiding them to the maternity ward. Yeosang stayed by her side, holding her hand and offering words of encouragement. He was amazed by her strength and resilience, and it only made him love her more.
As they settled into the delivery room, the reality of what was happening started to sink in for Yeosang. This was it. They were about to become parents. He felt a wave of emotions wash over him—excitement, fear, joy, and love all mixed together.
The hours that followed were intense. Y/N’s contractions grew stronger and closer together, and Yeosang did his best to support her, holding her hand, wiping her forehead, and whispering words of encouragement. He felt helpless at times, wishing he could take away her pain, but knowing that all he could do was be there for her.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the doctor announced that it was time to push. Yeosang’s heart raced as he watched Y/N summon all her strength and determination. He held her hand tightly, his own hands shaking with anticipation.
"One more push," the doctor said, and with a final, powerful effort, their baby entered the world. The room filled with the sound of their newborn’s first cries, and Yeosang felt tears streaming down his face. He looked at Y/N, her face a mixture of exhaustion and pure joy, and he knew that this was the most incredible moment of his life.
"She’s here, Y/N," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Our baby girl is here."
The nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle into Y/N’s arms, and Yeosang leaned in close, his heart overflowing with love. "She’s perfect," he said, his voice filled with awe.
Y/N looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "We did it, Yeosang," she said softly. "We’re parents."
Yeosang nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of his feelings. He reached out to gently touch his daughter’s tiny hand, marveling at how small and perfect she was. "Welcome to the world, little one," he whispered. "We’ve been waiting for you."
The next few hours were a whirlwind of emotions and activity. The nurses checked their baby, ensuring she was healthy and strong, while Yeosang and Y/N simply watched in awe. They couldn’t take their eyes off her, their hearts so full of love it felt like they might burst.
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NOW AND THEN | GEORGE HARRISON 🌻
You love sunflowers and George miss you.
Angst (i’m a sad person), mentions of grief, angry issues. May have some sensitive topics to some readers.
English is not my first language and gifs are not mine.
1995: Summer.
Ringo and Paul were playing their ukuleles and conversing in the company of their respective wives. They were almost oblivious to George's presence in that vast garden. Today was a delicate day; they were finalizing the recordings for the Anthology documentary, and talking so much about John left Geo with a bittersweet (or rather, sour) taste in his mouth.
George was one of the few who didn't get to make amends with John before he passed away, and today, despite the sunny atmosphere, George was gloomy and quieter than usual. He was feeling nostalgic. He had remembered things that made him happy but at the same time, saddened him.
It was when he thought of you, looking at the sunflower garden he had planted, that the memories came flooding back. George walked over there, struggling against the feeling of sadness that seemed to take over and fill his chest. He had no idea he was being watched by Olivia and Dhani, who knew about his devotion to those flowers more than anyone. What they didn't know was the reason Geo loved sunflowers so much.
1967:
— Look, me nails and clothes are full of dirt! — Said the girl, laughing and showing her hands. — Only you'd be able to see me all dirty like this.
George laughed.
— I'm worse than you. — He said, getting up from the flowerbed and helping her up. He clapped his legs to get the excess dirt off his hands and clothes, making himself even dirtier. — And you're the prettiest girl covered in dirt I've ever seen. — He confessed, with a cheeky smile.
The girl shook her head.
— Please, love... — She laughed. — You're bein' too nice to me.
He took her in his arms. Neither of them caring that they were dirty with soil in the middle of that garden.
— You know you're gorgeous no matter what. — he said, kissin' her lips. — Thank you for helpin' me take care of this garden. And thank you for lookin' after it when I'm not around.
She smiled and felt her face warm with all the adoration and courtship from the dark-haired man.
— You know I love this garden. Takin' care of it is a way for me to ease the missin' I feel for you when you're gone. — She confessed, George's eyes staring into yours like he wanted to capture every detail of you at all once. You were, without a shadow of a doubt, the most beautiful woman George had ever seen.
You were beautiful because you were you. In your simplicity, in your little mannerisms, in the way you walked... George loved everything about you and wished he could keep you like a porcelain doll so nothin' would ever harm you.
— And I took the liberty of plantin' some sunflowers here. Don't get me wrong, I love orchids, but sunflowers will always be my favorites. — She commented. The warm wind blowing through her long hair made George pull a few strands away from her face.
— They're lovely, darling. I loved them. They made the garden more colorful. — He said. The girl smiled.
— Sunflowers are happy flowers to me. I love them. — She confessed, looking at the flowerbed. She was proud of her work. — And if I ever die, I want you to bring me sunflowers every year. Wherever I am, I'll be happy...
George's smile faded at his beloved's request. It was sudden, a happy moment turned into a melancholy mess in an instant. She was like that: very honest. Not that George wasn't aware that people could die, after all, he had already lost someone that year: his manager, Brian. He and the rest of the band were still stunned by the untimely death of someone as passionate about life as Brian.
— Y/N... — He took a deep breath, stepping away from her touch. He was tough enough not to want to cry in front of her. He didn't like thinking about the possibility of losing her one day. He'd rather go first than see the woman he loved leave forever. — I-I... I think that's a rather morbid wish, don't you think?
The girl shook her head.
— I think it's the sentence we all carry — She concluded. — I'm sorry if I touched on a sensitive subject for you.
— It's alright. — It wasn't. — We need to take a bath and get all this dirt off us.
He changed the subject and took her by the hands so quickly into the house that she didn't have time to breathe and tell him what had been bothering her. Not that she wanted to tell him, knowing that George would do everything he could to take that away from her and that would cost him a lot.
Four months later:
She was sick and no one knew except John, her best friend. When George received that phone call at the studio, something inside him knew it wasn't good news. Although the news hit him like a speeding car, he couldn't feel anything about the fact that you had told John and not him that you were in the terminal phase. The electric guitar fell from his hands, making a loud noise that pierced the acoustic walls of the studio. He wanted it all to be just a nightmare.
He blamed himself a lot. It was obvious that her thinness wasn't normal, but he was so busy with the recordings of the White album that he was living on autopilot. He fought with John. He wanted to punch John.
He wanted to hold back his tears, he didn't want to yell at one of his best friends... But John knew George had been holding back his tears since Brian's death. It was George who held down the fort with the media when Brian died because John couldn't speak.
And losing you was unbearable... And when he remembered that you had asked him to bring you sunflowers, he wanted to tear out every single flower from that garden and set it on fire.
For the first time, gardening had become a distaste for him. Geo was immensely devastated. He swallowed his pride, made peace with John, and asked his friend to accompany him on your wake. George wanted to fulfill your last request despite all the anger and sadness bottled up in his chest about those "damned flowers."
And so, every year... He brought you sunflowers. He would plant a flowerbed on your grave if it would bring you back.
Present: 1995, Summer.
George sighed. His chest seemed full of that anguish from the past, and to remember you and John now with a bitter taste in his mouth was devastating. He put on a brave face. Mentally, he made a small prayer that your spirits could find the peace you so sought in life. George had married someone he liked, had a beautiful family, but you never left Geo's heart and Friar Park. There was a part of you there, and it was those vibrant yellow flowers.
— Sunflowers are happy flowers to me. I love them.— He remembered what you had said. He no longer hated them because they were a sweet reminder of you. It was the color that was missing from his life, and in a way, it was there, almost spiritually cheering him up.
George wiped away the tears with the sleeve of his jacket, which by this point had already flooded his eyes, making his vision blurry.
— I will always love you. — He said to himself, hoping that you, Brian, and John could hear him wherever you were.
#the beatles headcanons#the beatles x reader#the beatles fanfic#the beatles fanfiction#george harrison x reader#george harrison imagine#the beatles imagines#george harrison headcanons#george harrison fanfic#george harrison#paul mccartney#ringo starr#john lennon#beatles fandom
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A little rant… TW-body dysmorphia and mental illness.
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Sometimes (most times) I feel deeply insecure about my body… my stomach is not as flat or toned as I would like, my b00bs are sagging from weight loss, I don’t really have an ass, I practically have no waist and I just want to fucking cry until I fall asleep or die.
I know daddy says that he adores my body, but in the back of my mind, I feel like he will love it more if it looks like all the gorgeous women out there.. perkier breasts, a nice toned abdomen with a small waist, a heart-shaped bubble butt.. I unconsciously keep comparing myself and hating myself more by the second… I hate my brain for making me feel so insecure when I shouldn’t and when daddy constantly says that he loves my body, but for some fucking reason my fucking stupid brain will convince me that he’s just being nice and telling me that so that he won’t trigger my ED, and that he would actually love for me to look completely different, but he’s just being nice and settling for how I look.
I know it’s not the case. I’m in a constant tug war with my rational and logical side-that knows he loves me and my body- and my emotional and disordered eating side-that just does not believe it and makes me feel gross and stupid and keeps instilling my body dysmorphia every time I see someone with the body I want.-
Anyways, I’m gonna cry and make food bc daddy needs to eat…
#tw ed rant#body dysmorphia#i hate myself#I hate my body#I wish I looked like all the beautiful girls here#when will I die?#personal vent#vent tag#sorry for the rant#sad little girl
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Little Water Lily
#my art#artists on tumblr#the legend of korra#original character#seeds of the red lotus#sotrl suiren#look at my daughter. LOOK AT HER#just suddenly felt like painting my precious child looking happy for once#and am very very happy with the result#look at her. look at her little face#how could anyone hate her. how could anyone have hurt her#AIDIB really hits different when you realise the girl going through all that looks like this#I have trouble drawing kids sometimes but I feel like here she really does look like a young kid#with round cheeks and big beautiful brown eyes and an adorable upturned nose#istg I’ve captioned like 3 posts with ‘baby girl. baby’ already but it just always applies#as I’m coming up with these tags I’m slowly becoming incoherent. just… look at her#I’ve said it like 10 times already but I truly need everyone to see her#my darling innocent little sweet summer child.. I’m so sorry for what I put you through#look at those eyes. she has no idea what’s coming#I wish she could have remained this untainted forever#okay I’m making myself cry nia calm down#stop focusing on that and start focusing on how she really lives up to the nickname in this piece#a precious little water lily indeed
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Tiktok filter r insane honestly
#z rambles#ik a lot of my mutuals dont use rhis app (thank god ❤ stay safe yall) but yall do NOT understand how awful it is#ik bitches be talking SHIT about SNOW but at least that app can let u turn it off and have actual good and cute filters#but tiktok? that shit WARP your shit BAD like BAD#it warp my face so bad that idk why theae people on there r like omg i csnt be this beautiful. WHAT R U SAYINF#did this fucking app and the people on there took cunts perception of their own beauty and drag it thru the mud#i saw it look cute on this girl and i tried it and tell me why its those cat eyes filter that warp my eyes#feels lowkey racially motivated but thats just me its weird out here bro#theres worse filter its awful#idk why they keep using filters like if ur UGLY in this fikter ur UGLY irl its liek those maskfishing trend#yall r jusr findinf creative ways to call someone ugly and make people feel bad for stupid reasons#the first thought i have when i tried those faxe warping filters was not oh i wish i look like this. i was DISGUSTED and disappointed#these kids r gomna grow up feeling awful of not fitting into how tjey looked/not having any pics at all (cuz theyre warped and edited)#which i understand a lot i csnr trust my past pictures umless ir was taken by others cuz it was heavily edited and whitewashed#it wasnt that bad but it def pulled my face and eyes to the korean beauty standard (SNOW)#but u can understand its worse on there cuz its not just a camera app. its a social media with a platform for many#literally a setup for body dysphoria etc no womder these kids r turning out awful theyre being exposed to so much bullshit#yall cpuld say oh its the same as our generatiom. ABSOLUTELY NOT#they csnt compare to our childhood lets be real here we had it bettee than whatever tf they got goinf on.....not a competition its sad
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adrien never went to public school / adrienette have never met AU where Ladynoir are dating but Marinette has beef with Adrien Agreste™ on twitter, spurred by her interest in the fashion industry and her friendship with Mylene. ads are all over the place of Adrien promoting products like air in a bottle and NFTs and just generally so many products that are extremely poor taste/bad for the environment. Marinette tweets about beauty standards in the industry and all the shit Gabriel brand does to the environment and how Adrien Agreste perfectly encapsulates it all.
Adrien, of course, never responds to any of her tweets. her tweets are just white noise in the background. she is nowhere near on his level. one day Marinette tweets out something akin to "if I saw Adrien Agreste irl i'd punch him in the face" and her twitter gets banned for Threats of Violence, Alya draws attention to the injustice of it via the Ladyblog and suddenly "I want to punch Adrien Agreste in the face [gets banned]" becomes a bit of a meme. NOW people know who Marinette is and are listening to what she's saying (on her new account or whatever). Chat Noir also tweets that he wants to punch Adrien in the face
A hashtag trends. Marinette caves and starts tweeting about the scandals of the industry on her Ladybug twitter too. Adrien's twitter and instagram comments are flooded with both threats to punch him but also just generally critical comments like "nice pic and all but are you not going to address the sweatshop allegations?". Adrien still does not address it. At most he turns comments off. Marinette is gnawing at the wood of her desk.
Then a Ladybug and Chat Noir identity reveal happens.
Marinette is stunned. Absolutely mouth agape. Cannot form words. Chat Noi— NO, ADRIEN— ADRIEN FUCKING AGRESTE looks at her and is like "oh ha :) .... Marinette Dupain-Cheng, right? You're the girl who wanted to punch me hahaha"
after recovering from her world being shattered, she's like...... "hahaha...... um............... yeah...... uh..... so you... DO know who i am. and you're just. ignoring it then. hahaha... ok... thats....... fine..... anyway..... u-uh...... im not... gonna actually punch you. but. um. k-kitty do you um. maybe want to stop promoting deforestation and all that"
he's like "I don't"
she's like. "yes you do. literally in your newest ad you said to the camera 'who needs trees when bottled air is the way of the future'. like did you really read that line out loud and not see a problem with it"
"yeah, that wasn't me"
"what are you talking abou—"
"it's deepfaked"
"..... what"
"all of my ads in the past few years are deepfakes. I complained too much so my father fired me. turns out that i signed away all rights to my face and voice to him when I was 13 or something. he can just use my face and voice and name however he wants. he generates ads. i dont even have access to the 'Adrien Agreste' twitter or insta accounts. sometimes he makes me do runways but beyond that I'm not involved in all."
"... ... ... ... ... what"
"yeah haha... :") im sorry. i wish i could help you more. but he never listens to me. i don't like it either, i.... i've asked him to stop sooo many times. but he never listens to me. i hate seeing my face used without my consent but haha.... i don't... have any rights here so. sorry. i really wish i could help more"
and now marinette hates "Adrien Agreste"™ ads/posts EVEN MORE and is threatening to kill Gabriel Agreste himself. all while kissing the real adrien agreste silly
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.
#every time I’m on here I see a beautiful girl and then I need to go lay down for several hours#I wish I looked like all of u#angels
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Why isn't Bucky waking me up to have his way with me?
I wish I had the answer, nonnie!
Slip Inside
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky can't resist having you when he comes home.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, somnophilia (at first), established relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, slight feels (it's me, okay?), lovesick and needy Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I can't send Bucky, but here you lovelies go! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky wasn't meant to be home until tomorrow. He almost called to let you know he’d be back a day early, but it was late and he didn't want to disturb your slumber. Imagining the happy look in your eyes when you woke up beside him brought a smile to his face. Being loved by you was something he still couldn't believe was real some days, but he knew in the depths of his soul that you would always be his girl.
“Welcome home,” he whispered to himself when he saw you in bed, a sight for sore eyes.
He kept his gaze on you as he undressed, careful not to make any noise. You had an arm draped over the pillow next to you, the one he usually rested his head on. His heart raced as he took a step closer and gently pulled the blanket away, your body barely covered by the shirt he recently bought for you. Shivering slightly, you tried to curl in on yourself, but stilled quickly.
Like you knew he was watching you.
“I love you,” he breathed into the room.
You replied with a moan and rubbed your hand against the pillow.
You were beautiful when you slept. If you asked him, you were gorgeous all the time. A breathless kind of vision that he grew to appreciate more and more each day. But you weren't like a piece of art for him to just admire. You were the type of beauty meant to be appreciated.
And he gladly did so with his hands, mouth, and cock.
Oh, he loved you. Fuck, he needed you, too. It was an ache. A hunger. Awake, asleep, it didn't matter as long as he had you. And you were understanding enough to let him take what he needed.
“Mine,” he whispered.
Bucky quickly took the opportunity to slip into the bed and spoon you from behind. Your steady breathing grounded him in a sense while awakening the beast he kept at bay. The one that wanted to come out and play. One that needed to bury himself deep and keep you full.
If you were awake, he would've turned your head to kiss you nice and slow, unrushed even with the mounting desperation. Instead he rubbed his nose and scruffy chin at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing in the distinctly sweet scent of you while wanting to leave his claim. That no one else could touch or have you. That you were his.
“You're mine,” he growled lowly.
Rubbing the inside of your thigh once he pushed your shirt up enough, he heard your breathing hitch. He wasn't ready for you to wake up just yet, but it didn't keep him moving his hand higher and grasping the elastic of your underwear. He debated tearing the offending fabric off, but he couldn't fault you for wearing them.
You didn't know he'd come home tonight.
He also thought about touching you through your panties to feel you squirm under his touch. Your whines and whimpers always made his cock twitch, especially when you soaked the fabric. Sometimes he liked to shove them in your mouth so you could taste yourself and know he was the one who did that to you.
Only him.
He brushed his lips along your skin as he pulled it down, almost wishing he was in front of you so he could look down and see your exposed pussy. “Mine,” he whispered again as his fingers parted your folds and skimmed over your clit.
You moved back against him with a sigh, enticing him without even trying. Alternating between teasing the bundle of nerves and your slit, he felt his own breathing get heavier and harsh with each passing second. By the time he brought his fingers to his mouth to lick your juices away, his cock was hard and heavy with the need to sink into your dripping cunt. He grunted as your flavor exploded on his tongue. He was done with foreplay.
And with how you panted and writhed, you were ready for him.
He hooked your leg over his thick thigh to open you up, hoping it wouldn't hurt when you stretched around him. “I love you,” he said once more as he brushed the tip of his cock against your hole, sighing as he slowly filled you up.
He had to close his eyes and hide his face in your neck to keep from losing it. He could go for hours when he wanted to, but the feel of your warm wetness gripping him like a vice was almost too much. Finishing quickly or not didn't matter. You’d take it as a compliment if your sweet cunt made him empty himself inside you so fast.
But he had to make it last and make you come first.
With a deep breath, he got himself under control. You let out the sweetest whine when he almost pulled out completely and shoved himself back in. Curled around you, all you could do was take his deep thrusts. He could've breathed through his nose and tried to stay quiet. He could’ve gone slow and steady. But he moaned and nipped at your skin, not wanting to hide his desire for you.
He couldn't see your face, but he felt you roll your hips back as you began to stir and heard another whine escape. You weren't completely awake, but your body craved what he was doing to you. It was enough for him to roll you on your stomach and quicken his pace.
“Bucky?” You mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't resist. Your pussy’s too good,” he groaned, putting a hand to the back of your neck to hold you still. “I need you. Need to feel you come on my cock.”
You fluttered around him as he stretched over your back, forcing you to take every inch of him. Your body went pliant as you let out a tired and needy moan. If you wanted him to stop, you would’ve told him to do so. “Please,” you whined as he practically rutted into you.
“I got you,” he grunted, driving harder into you as your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Missed you. Missed you so fucking much. Might need to keep my cock in you all night.”
You trembled, both of you knowing you’d lay there and let him fuck you all night if he asked. You were so good for him. And greedy. It would be wrong of him not to give you what you longed for.
“And you'll let me fill you up, won't you? Of course, you will,” he panted against your ear. You tried to arch your back, but his massive frame overpowered you. “It’s okay. Just take it. Let me have you.”
Fucking you raw was a gift he’d selfishly continue to ask for and take. But how could he not? You always let out the prettiest sounds when he flooded your holes.
He couldn't stop himself from shoving his hand between the mattress and your body, seeking out your clit to tip you over the edge. Moans poured from you as he lightly pinched it, giving you the push you needed. “That’s it. Come on my cock. My cock. My good girl,” he encouraged as you clamped around him hard enough for him to lose his breath.
You nearly cried as he took you apart. “Bu… Bucky…”
“Trembling around my cock. Greedy girl,” he moaned, his hips snapping faster as he brought his mouth back to your ear. “My turn.”
He let out a deep groan as he stilled, filling you. His release hit him so hard his head spun, muttering his love for and possession of you as his eyes fluttered. You let out a broken moan as you clenched around him again and he had to keep from collapsing against you, both of you fighting for air.
“Love you,” he mumbled, wanting you to hear it now that you were awake.
He only pulled out so he could move you to your back and desperately kiss your lips the way he needed to, pushing himself back inside your leaking hole with a hum. Your eyes were half-lidded when he broke the kiss. Your gaze made him want to ruin you all over again.
“Love you, too,” you croaked, your back bowing when he groped your breast through the shirt. “Welcome home.”
Bucky’s heart pounded as he leaned down to kiss you again. It was a dance of tongue and teeth, dizzying and passionate. Some days you were the fire and others you were the fuel. You accepted the entirety of him and he welcomed everything you selflessly gave him in return.
“Good to be home, baby,” he smirked, brushing his thumb along your covered nipple. “Now stay awake. I need to fill you up at least two more times before the sun comes up.”
Even after that, he wasn't close to being done with you. But he was whole because he was home with you. And that would always be enough.
We deserve this, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x fem!reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fan fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky fic#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x reader#james barnes x reader#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan
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NO NUT NOVEMBER.
Synopsis: Jungkook didn’t think stuff through when he made a bet for “No Nut November” he seemed to forget that he can’t say no to you.
Pairings: dilf!jungkook x fem!reader
Warnings— SMUT! cussing, kind of drunk sex?, dirty talk, anal, squirting, spanking, size kink!!!!, jk is pussy whipped, jk eating you out, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!) rough sex!!, crying from pleasure, hair pulling, fluff at the very end,
a/n: someone lock me the fuck up… this is in the KUWTB universe, jus wanted to get into jk and oc sex life more… enjoy🥹🤍
m.list
“I am not betting a thousand on Jungkook for no nut; November be fucking for real; he’s going to lose twenty minutes in.” Namjoon says knowing his friend and knowing how you have him wrapped around your pinky will have him losing money.
“I can go a whole month without sex, motherfuckers.” Jungkook gasps, running a hand through his wet hair from his previous shower.
It was Halloween night, and the boys just came back from accompanying Iseul and Ye Joon trick or treating down the neighborhood.
“I’m taking my baby to the rich neighborhoods so she can get the full-size candy bars.” Jungkook squeezes Iseul's cheeks, trying to avoid the cute bunny face paint you had drawn on. Your husband, without thinking twice, matched her outfit with the big fluffy bunny ears on the top of his head, bobbing on his head whenever he would move around.
"You literally live in a rich neighborhood.” Ari scolds, sending Jungkook's arm flying up in his defense.
"Trust, I won’t fuck up!” Jungkook defends himself while the boys have a hard time believing him; the boys only sighed before agreeing.
…
Jungkook couldn’t do it; his dick immediately hardened as he saw you walking down the stairs in your playboy bunny costume, the small black leather skirt that barely covers your ass, and your black thong visible to everyone. The black long-sleeve crop top and the bunny ears had him stressing and wishing he wouldn’t have made that bet.
“Fuck, you look beautiful, baby." Jungkook wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. His hand lowered to your ass before giving a soft squeeze; you didn’t even bat an eye.
“Thank you, my love.” You give him a quick peck before looking down at his all-black outfit. “You look handsome, daddy,” you wink before walking to the kitchen where Eunbi and Jia were.
You had taken a new habit of calling Jungkook Daddy a joke, and he knew that, but right now the word just worsened the hard problem he has in his pants.
It’s around three in the morning now, and the house is a mess. Iseul is staying with your mother-in-law, who volunteered to take care of her for the night. You were definitely drunk; Ari and Lora came in the house already fucked up, and them being bad influences made you and all the girls take shot after shot, so here you were dancing in your living room as the guys sat on the couch watching you all.
“I think I might owe you all a thousand." Jungkook sighs at his friends. Who’s head snaps at him in shock? “You fucking lost already; are you serious? It's been like three hours!?” Seokjin gasps, and Jimin giggles beside him.
That’s when everyone pulls their wallets and drops wads of cash in Jimin's hands. “I fucking told you he wouldn’t last." Jimin snickers as he counts the money in his hands.
“You guys have no faith in me! I haven’t done anything."Jungkook whispers the last part, "Oh." Jimin says he is disappointed before handing the money back to the corresponding boys.
“Then why do you say that?" Hoseok sighs, putting the hundred back in his wallet before tucking it in his back pocket.
“She’s dressed as a playboy bunny!! A sexy ass playboy bunny.” Jungkook whispers, “Please come on; you would fuck y/n in a garbage bag.” Yoongi says, before sending a signal to Eunbi to stop drinking, to which she only nods 'no', making Yoongi stand up and march her way.
“She would look good in anything—better without anything, actually.” Jungkook says as he sees you down, another shot making him shoot up his seat.
“No more alcohol for you, baby.” He takes the shot glass out of your hands, putting his arm around your waist to keep you stabilized. "Babyyy,” you pout, looking up at him, fisting his shirt, and pulling him closer to your face.
“What princess?” He says softly, your faces almost touching each other; he can smell the alcohol. “I’m so drunk.” You slur with a goofy smile on your face, gripping onto his shoulders, raising your legs behind you, and reaching for your heel, making you stumble backwards just for Yoongi and Jungkook to stabilize you.
"Yeah, we’re leaving,” Yoongi says as he holds onto Eunbi, who’s slurring a bunch of nonsense, “but I don’t want to leave!" Eunbi whines as Yoongi chuckles as he drags her to the front door.
“We should leave too, then,” all the boys say, standing up and wishing everyone goodbye. “Let’s go, my love,” Taehyung tells Ari, who’s lying on the ground, her police officer outfit long gone, replaced with the big t-shirt you had handed her earlier.
"Nooo, I want to stay with y/n!” She gets picked up by Taehyung, who shushes her with a kiss. “You reek like alcohol,” he chuckles before giving Jungkook a head nod and walking out, Jimin and Namjoon following behind them, being the last ones out, the rest long gone.
Jungkook lays you on the couch, kneeling down, unstrapping your heels, and taking them off before kissing the top of your shin. Making you moan in relief.
“My feet hurt so bad!” You whine loudly before bringing your feet into your chest, making your skirt ride up, giving Jungkook a perfect view of your covered pussy.
He wanted nothing to open your legs, put your panties aside, and eat you out at that moment, but one, you were drunk, and two, the stupid bet he made yesterday. So instead of doing all that, he stood up and made his way to the main door, locking it before making his way back to you, taking his dirty shirt off in the process.
“You are so hot... Could you maybe have my baby?” You pout, looking up at him, who’s hovering over you with a smile on his face. “You already had my baby, princess.” He chuckles at you, making grabby hands up at him.
“Then another one?” You slur with the goofiest smile on your face as he picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his torso as your arms wrap around his neck. “You would slap yourself if you heard yourself right now, baby.” He laughs as you snuggle your face into his neck.
“If it’s a girl, what would we name her?” You slur your words as Jungkook starts making his way upstairs to your guy's room. “I don’t know, princess, do you know?” He asks you, taking one step at a time.
“I like Nabi," you giggle. “I like Nabi.” Jungkook repeats after you, giving your puffed-out cheek a wet kiss. “And if it’s a boy, we can name it Junior.” Jungkook suggests entering your guys room.
“Ew no!” You shake your head, sticking your tongue out like you just ate something disgusting. “That’s offensive; you don’t like my name?” Jungkook puts you gently on the bed, crossing his arms in front of him, making his muscles flex as he watches you bite your lip while you look up to him.
“Of course I do. It’s just that’s the name I scream out when I’m getting railed. I don’t want my son to have that name." You shiver from the thought, leaving Jungkook speechless from your boldness.
“Y/n!” He chokes out, "What? I’m being honest!” You slur, trying to put your shirt over your head, only to get stuck with your hands up in the air. “Help me!" you whine.
Your husband laughs immediately, helping you take your shirt off before throwing it somewhere in the room. He watches you struggle to reach behind you to unclip your bra.
“Turn around, baby; let me help.” He orders, and who are you to say no?
“Mkay,” you say, turning around and letting Jungkook unclip it with his hand, making your bra drop onto the bed. And with that, you fall face-first into the bed. "Yeah, no, get up. We need to brush your teeth and take your makeup off. Come on.” Jungkook picks up your frame as you whine loudly.
As Jungkook drags you to your guy's shared bathroom in only your skirt, Jungkook sets you up on the sink, and you bring your knees up against you again, making Jungkook want to run into a wall.
Seeing you with your smudge eyeliner and mascara has his thoughts running wild. You are topless, and the tiniest skirt he has ever seen you wear has him imagining how he could bend you over, lift your skirt up, and fuck you raw.
He shakes his thoughts off, getting your light pink toothbrush and lathering it with toothpaste before passing it to you. You lazily brush your teeth with your eyes closed, making small sounds at random times as Jungkook brushes his teeth as well.
“I'm dizzy.. My head is spinning.” You giggle as toothpaste is still in your mouth before spitting it out. Jungkook makes a little bowl with his hand, putting his palm underneath the water and accumulating a good amount before bringing it into your mouth, which you then swish around your mouth before spitting it out into the sink.
“All done," you clap your hands, trying to get off the counter.
“You need to take your makeup off; where are your makeup wipes?” Jungkook asks as he goes through all your skincare and makeup.
“How the fuck do you know what a makeup wipe is?" You slur, your brows furrowing, as you wrap your arms around your legs and up your chest. “Baby what?” Jungkook laughs at your question, knowing he has taken off your makeup countless times before this one.
“I'm mad now.” You pout, pushing your husband's hands off your knees. "Baby, please, I have only taken your makeup off. I promise." Jungkook raises his pinky, which you only glare at.
“Did you fuck her in the legs-up position? Because that’s our position.” You slur once again, making Jungkook chuckle in front of you.
“Baby, trust me, I would not fuck anyone in any position that isn’t you,” he reassures as you stare at his pinky that’s still in the air. “Okay,” you pout in defeat, interlocking your pinky with his.
“You can’t be lying because that’s a pinky promise,” you warn. “Of course, baby,” he says, giving you a kiss on your forehead before opening the small packet. “Be gentle," you whine as you stare at your shirtless boyfriend, who takes a wipeout.
He only nods, holding your neck like a necklace to keep your head straight, and starts taking off your makeup. “I’m hungry,” you say as your eyes flutter closed.
“It’s three in the morning, princess; there's nothing open right now.” Jungkook smiles at your scrunched-up expression. “Did you eat all the cookies?" You peek your eye open. “Maybe..” Jungkook whispers, dropping the dirty wipe in the trash can beside him.
“What! You don’t even share with me anymore.” You mumble as Jungkook picks you up and makes his way to your shared bed, dropping you on it. “I share everything with you, baby,” he says as he undoes his pants to slide into bed with you.
You stare at your husband through your eyelashes as you struggle to take off your skirt. “Need help?” Jungkook chuckles under breath as his pants fall to the ground, leaving him in only a pair of black boxers, his print clearly visible.
"Mhm," you nod, biting your lip as you tilt your head to the side to get a better view in between his pants as he reaches for the zipper on your skirt, pulling it down. "Up, baby,” he orders. You do as he says and raise your bottom up, letting him pull your skirt off, leaving you in your thong.
Jungkook drops the skirt on the floor as he watches you lying on the bed with nothing but the black piece of clothing covering your center. His breath rises as he watches you reach between your legs and move your panties to the side, giving him a perfect view of you.
“I’m so wet, baby, help me,” you whine as you run a finger through your drenched slit. "Baby, I can’t,” he hushes as his dick twitches in his briefs.
“I’m not that drunk anymore, I promise.” You mumble, giving your pussy a little slap. “Fuck,” you moan.
Jungkook very much wanted nothing but to slam into you in this exact moment, but did he really not have self-control when it came to you? He thought to himself.
"Please... if not, I’ll just fuck myself with my fingers.” You giggled, bringing your index and middle fingers up to your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue on the tips, all while remaining eye contact with your husband, who’s fighting with himself whenever he wants to control himself or fuck you into the mattress.
But when Jungkook saw you insert a finger, he realized he didn’t have self-control when it came to you, and actually, he could give zero fucks about it, plus one thousand was nothing compared to you.
“Fuck it!” Jungkook grabbed a hold of your hands before pinning them up to your head, making you giggle loudly. “Hi.” You giggle as his face is just a few inches away from yours, and his eyes scan your face. “Hi.” He chuckles and smashes his lips against yours.
You moan softly as he wastes no time inserting his tongue into your mouth. His tongue glides along yours, making noise each time you part apart to breathe. Jungkook abandons your lips, moving to your neck, licking, sucking, and blowing.
“I want to eat you out,” he mumbles into your neck between sucking, leaving purplish red marks. He slowly makes his way down your body, all while remaining in eye contact with you. You use your elbows to prop yourself up, getting a clear view of your husband between your legs.
He chuckles, blowing a kiss to your clit making your hips buck forward, a choked moan leaves your mouth. “You’re dripping for me." He runs a finger through your puffy slit, spreading your arousal all over your pussy.
You feel your wetness ooze down to your puckered hole and maybe even to the gray sheets underneath you. Jungkook tauntingly hovered over your aching center. “Please, fuck,” you buck your hips up again, making him pin you down.
Jungkook gives your cunt a long and slow lick, “shit.” You whine, your legs squeezing around his face, as he starts lapping on your clit, swirling and sucking. His saliva and your juices mixing together.
He pushes your legs up, spreading your pussy more for him. As he continues to suck harshly on your clit your fingers rake in his hair, pulling roughly whenever he would non-stop flick his tongue on your bud, making you shake. "Fuck, you’re going to make cum.” Your eyes roll back into your head.
Jungkooks cock is painfully hard in his briefs; he shifts from his position in hope to relieve some of the pressure, but it only twitches in return. Your husband brings his tattooed fingers in front of your face and says, "Suck.” He orders, and he doesn't have to ask twice.
You grab ahold of his hand and insert his three large fingers into your mouth, twirling your tongue on the tip and sucking like you would if you were on your knees in front of him.
A rush of blood rushes to his cock as he watches you suck on his fingers. You pop his fingers out of your mouth.
He tugs on your clit one last time before rubbing your sensitive bud slowly. You choke out a moan.
Jungkook inserts one of his finger pumping it in and out of your gummy walls, sending you back into the mattress. “Fuck yes,” you cry. He inserts a second finger, pumping them out quickly, curling them inside you, and hitting your spot each time. You grip tightly onto the sheet as you start to feel dizzy. “I’m coming, shit shit shit,” you cry out. You try to push Jungkook off you as he slides his fingers in and out of you repeatedly, with his tongue flicking your clit sending you over the edge.
Your mouth hangs open as your body shakes uncontrollably. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook's fingers. A rush of fluid squirts out of you, leaving you shaking and gasping for air.
“pretty.” Jungkook chuckles under his breath, giving your pussy a small slap and making you whine from the overstimulation.
Jungkook stands up, watching you squeeze your legs together with your eyes closed and chest heaving. “You good, baby?” He leans over, kissing your face over and over again until you peek your eyes open, and you giggle nonstop.
“Fuck!” You giggle, making Jungkook raise an eyebrow. “So good,” you giggle, “yeah?” He smirks, leaning in to give you a kiss.
“Mhm.” You nod, kissing him back. “Let me return the favor.” You reach for his huge hard on, squeezing.
“Let me just fuck you.” He whispers into your mouth as you giggle in response.
“Okay.” You nod. Jungkook slowly stands up from the bed as you watch him push down his briefs, letting his cock spring free. He grabs ahold of the base, giving it a squeeze, and runs his thumb along his aching red slit before walking closer to you. You bite your lip in anticipation, and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
He spits down, letting his saliva drip down onto his cock before giving it two pumps, “legs up. ” He taps your thigh for you to do as he says.
You giggle, pushing your legs up, giving your husband an amazing view of your drenched spread out, dripping core.
“Fuck,” he says, aligning himself with your hole and slapping his cock on your pussy multiple times. "Shit, ah,” you moan, digging your nails into your thighs.
Jungkook watches as you clench your pussy over nothing, making his cock twitch. He runs his length over your slit before sliding into you. “Oh shit.” You gasp, biting your lip harshly.
Jungkook has always been too big for you, always stretching you out deliciously every time you had sex. Your pussy always took him so well.
"Shit, shit, shit,” you say, closing your eyes as you feel the burn of him sliding deeper into you. “You can take it, baby.” He hushes, pushing in deeper, and he rubs your clit with his thumb, trying to ease you.
You can feel him all the way into your belly as he finally is all the way in you. “You take me so well, fuck, baby.” Jungkook groans as you clench non-stop around him.
"Move, fuck, ah,” you cry. You didn’t have to ask twice, as he started sliding out of your hole before slamming back in. Your nails dig into your thighs, leaving marks as he continues to slide in and out of you repeatedly.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he slams roughly into you. His hands push your legs down to your chest as he fucks into you, his cock spreading your walls and his tip hitting your g-spot with each thrust.
Jungkook watches his cock disappear into your messy wet cunt; he watches how you spasm every time he pounds into you; your pussy squirts every time he pulls out; but he doesn’t stop; he continues to slam back in.
Tears stream down your face from the immense pleasure in your core as you reach between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my cock so well.” Jungkook says between gritted teeth, as you only reply with a moan.
“Look at you squirting all over my cock.” He pulls out, spurs of liquid come rushing out of you, and your legs shake as your pussy convulses from each spurt. “Ahh fuck.” You moan as Jungkook rubs your pussy; your hands reach for his, trying to push him away, but failing as you orgasm with a long, loud moan.
“Good girl.” He groans.
“I can't... fuck,” you choke out, trying to catch your breath. "Yes, you can." Jungkook flips you over to your stomach. “Ass up.” He demands giving your ass a spank.
You bring your ass up in the air, leaving your upper body laying on the bed totally spent. “Fuck pussy, so messy." Jungkook runs his cock through your pussy before sliding back in.
"Shit, this angle fucks me up,” he groans, getting ahold of your waist and squeezing roughly, probably leaving marks, as he slams into you. You dig your head into the mattress, biting onto the sheets, silencing your screams. The wet sound of him pounding into you and your screams are the only things being heard in the room.
“You love being fucked like this, huh?” He moans, pounding into you from behind. You don’t reply.
He pulls out and pulls your hair up. “Answer me. You love being fucked like this, huh?” He whispers into your ear, your back arched against him.
“Yes.” You cry, and tears stream down your face. “Yes what? Baby.” He chuckles from your disheveled state, “I love being fucked like this.” You stutter over your words; the only thing your brain can comprehend is that you wanted to come again for the third time.
And with that, he lets you go. As you fall back down onto the bed, Jungkook spreads your ass cheeks, watching your pussy and asshole clench over nothing. “Spread open.” He orders you.
Jungkook watches how you do as he says and spread yourself open for him. He takes the base of his cock and aligns himself with your other hole. He rubs over some of your arousal to your asshole, inserting the tip of his cock before pushing the rest of his length inside you, “Fuckk.” You moan loudly, "Relax, baby.” He groans loudly at how tight it is.
This is not the first time Jungkook has fucked your ass, but the stretch of his cock always feels like the first time. He stays for a few moments, still waiting for you to adjust. "Go," you whimper. A green light for him to thrust.
He spreads you open more, watching his cock slip out of your hole before thrusting back in slowly. You moan under him, and you reach under him, rubbing your clit softly as tears run down your cheeks.
“Such a good fucking girl.” Jungkook moans, squeezing your ass and restraining himself from pounding into you at that very moment.
You insert two of your fingers into your pussy, sliding them in and out as Jungkook slides his cock into your ass. "Faster, please,” you whine, fucking your fingers into you as Jungkook speeds up his movements.
Your legs shake barely holding up as he pounds into roughly moaning loudly each time you clench, “You fucking like that?” He chokes out each slam he thrusts into you. “Keep taking it, baby.” His balls slam into your pussy, which each push.
“Fuck so good.” He moans, not stopping his movements. Both of you are sweating as you bite down on the gray sheets, feeling your pussy spasms with liquid with each thrust. “I’m coming.” You shriek,
“Go ahead, baby.” Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his head, watching you shake underneath him. His body locks up, and black and white spots fill his vision as his dick twitches in you before spilling his seed into you with a loud groan.
“Oh fuck.” Jungkook pants as he slides out of your ass, his come oozing out of you. You fall onto the bed, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you whimper softly from the outstanding orgasm you just went through.
"Fuck, are you okay, baby?” Jungkook makes his way to you, flipping you over to be able to see your face. You whimper softly with your hands covering your face. "Shit, baby, did I hurt you?” He panics, shooting straight up and taking your hands off your face.
He sees the tears streaming down your face, and that sends a blow to his heart. "Baby, where does it hurt?” He scans your body and tries to soothe your shaking legs, rubbing his palms up and down your thighs.
“I’m okay.” You whimper between cries.
“Then why are you crying, my love?” He pulls you up into a sitting position before kissing your tear-stained cheeks. "felt so good.” You cry. A wave of relief hits Jungkook. "Baby," he chuckles, giving you kisses all over your face.
“I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.” You cry as he laughs softly while standing up, finding his briefs on the ground before stepping into them. He goes into your guys' shared closet looking for a pair of underwear for you and one of his shirts.
"Here, baby, let me help you.” He makes his way to you; he sits beside you as he helps you put on your panties and his shirt.
“Do you need anything?” Jungkook asks, putting your hair behind your ear. “No, I'm super tired; I want to cuddle.” You say snuggling under the covers with a big smile on your face, and Jungkook follows in beside you.
…
The next morning, Jungkook called in for an emergency meeting as he was waiting for the boys to come in. Taehyung arrives first with a guilty expression on his face, and before Jungkook could ask what’s up, Hoseok and Namjoon come striding in. And not long after all the boys started striding in.
“So..” Jungkook starts, “I fucked up.” And with that, he drops a thousand on the table in front of the boys. Nobody moves, and nobody says anything until,
"Oh, thank God, and I thought it was going to be just me." Taehyung drops a wad of cash, with the rest of the boys following along, dropping cash on the table.
“Are you fucking serious!?” Namjoon stares at his friends with his jaw wide open. “Am I the only one who took this seriously?” Namjoon shook his head at his friends.
“Honestly, I don't regret it at all.” Jungkook shrugs.
#jungkook#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook fanfic#jjk#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#bts jk#fluff#jungkook smut#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jeon jungkook#jeon jk#jk#bts smut#fanfic#jeon jungguk#bangtan#bangtan smut#kpop smut#smut#established relationship#dilf jungkook#jungkook x oc#jeongguk#jungkook x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you
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He would burn the world for her.
Felix Carton x fem!reader
Summary: Felix and the reader don’t appreciate the looks Oliver is giving her.
Words: 1,689
Warnings: Oliver is his own warning. He’s creepy to the reader. Making out in a bathtub- not super descriptive. Yelling, cursing.
Author's note: May god bless our souls for not only watching Saltburn but also reading fanfics about it :|
Masterlist
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Y/N was a usual resident at Saltburn. The girlfriend of Felix Catton himself, she often found herself spending her time at his family mansion during holiday. She had a family that loved her, sure. But it couldn’t match up to the things that Saltburn, and Felix, gave her.
Oliver was one of those things. A seemingly loyal friend to her dear Felix. And she was overjoyed when he agreed to spend the summer at Saltburn with them.
She sat on a lawn chair near the pool, a bikini adorning her body. She tilts her head slightly to the side, to see her perfect Felix in the pool. A graceful smile shows on her face as she moves back to relax in the chair. She hears the sound of splashing water and soon, a shadow is felt over her body. She moves her sunglasses down her nose to peer over them. Felix stands above her, his body dripping from the pool and a large smirk across his face.
“Hi, beautiful,” he says. His smirk grows into a grin. He leans his tall body down, his arms reaching out to catch him against her chair. His frame towers over her more than it does when he’s standing.
She meets him halfway, their lips touching in a gentle kiss. Her hand moves up to the back of his neck, lightly tugging at the hair there. He groans, pushing into her lips a little rougher.
Farleigh gives a small laugh, “You two are too horny to be out here, right now. Go get a fucking room.”
Y/N pulls apart from him with a slight blush on her cheeks. Felix’s jaw clenches slightly, his head turning in Farleigh’s direction. “Don’t be jealous of what I have and you don’t.” He then leans back down to kiss Y/N as if no comment was ever made.
They made out for a little while, Y/N at Felix’s mercy. Not that he was ever a cruel lover. No, quite the opposite. He was very giving. He was a giving person in general, a quality his girlfriend admired greatly.
They pulled away from each other, Y/N slouching back against the lounger like before, and Felix going back to the pool. Her eyes closed as she heard the splash of his return to the water.
The moment was interrupted yet again, but by Felix’s voice, “Oliver! You getting in?”
Y/N opened her eyes at that to see Oliver’s answer. But Oliver’s eyes were on her. They had been on her. She could see that Felix’s question had broken his train of thought. Oliver shakes his head a bit, blinking. “Oh, uh. Not sure.”
Felix nods his head with a certain look. Y/N had seen it many times. It was a knowing look. He didn’t give two shits if Oliver got in the water, but he did care if the scholarship boy was looking at his girl a little too much. But he took that as an answer and went back to relaxing in the warm water.
But Y/N still felt Oliver’s gaze. It was quite uncomfortable now that she knew it was there. She tried to do anything to relax. She closed her eyes. She watched Felix. None of it would distract from the constant feeling of being watched by Oliver’s piercing eyes.
Hours passed and the family found themselves retiring for the night. Felix lead Y/N by the hand to his room, a routine the entire family was used to at this point. He closed the door behind them before turning around and placing his hands on her waist.
She sighed at the feeling, a relaxing end to the day. The day’s events were still bothering her, but she didn’t wish to bring them to her boyfriend’s attention. After all, Oliver was to stay here for a while, and the last thing she wanted was to cause conflict between the two.
Felix noticed the deep look in her eye. He let out a soft sigh, “How about a warm bath?”
Her eyes met his, “a bath?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day. A warm bath might be nice. I mean we don’t have to-“
“-No. I want to. I do.”
He smiles, leaning down to kiss the top of her head before disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of the running water is heard soon after.
She sits at the end of his bed, running her hands through her hair to calm herself. It truly did bother her, but what if it’s nothing? She knows that Felix would burn the world for her, but she didn’t know if it was worth the world burning. Not over something so stupid as a stare from one of his friends.
He returned before she had even noticed. He pulled her hands from her hair, placing them on his chest. He pulls her up easily. “C’mon, love.”
…
She is straddling Felix in the tub, their bodies close. Her hands are in his hair, and his are wandering over her body, admiring every part. Their lips are locked in a passionate kiss that is getting hotter by the minute.
Why was Oliver looking at her? Was he jealous? Perhaps just curious? Did he want her? Did he want Felix? Simply judging? What does the boy want and why? He was beyond impossible to read.
Felix at this point had slowed himself, seeing that she was not reciprocating his movements. His hands now rest on the side of her thighs, keeping her in place. He pulled away softly, his tone quiet and comforting, “What’s wrong, beautiful?”
She is pulled from all of her thoughts quickly, realizing he had caught on. “Nothing, Felix. It’s nothing, really.” She moves forward to catch his lips again.
He lets her for a moment, before his hands gently grab her face, pulling her away. “Don’t lie to me. And don’t try to deflect like this. I know something is bothering you. It has been. Please. Trust me?”
The sound of the water trying to settle is all that is heard in the bathroom at this point. She finally lets out a breath, “It’s not something you can fix. I can handle it.”
He pulls her face into his hands again. “Is it something I’m doing? If it is, I-“
How could she do this to him? He was now doubting himself, and it was all her fault. She felt awful. She had to correct this.
Her hands move to each side of his chest. “No, Felix. It’s not. I promise, it’s not. You’ve done nothing.”
He nods, his jaw clenching slightly as if he knows exactly what’s bothering her at this point. “It’s Oliver, isn’t it?”
Her hand reaches up to his mouth, a finger pushed to his lips. “Shh… he’ll hear us.”
He moved his head back from her hand. “I don’t care,” he says, “If it is Oli, I understand. I noticed it today, too. And it is a big deal to me if it bothers you, angel. It bothered me, but I figured I’d let it go if it was just me noticing. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
He was the sweetest thing she had ever seen in her life. Her eyebrows lifted, “You’d do that for me?”
He smiled, “‘Course. Consider it done.”
She smiled as well, moving her body against his. Her lips connected with his once more.
…
She woke up to the sound of yelling. She sat up in bed quickly. Her hair was a mess, her body in nothing but Felix’s t-shirt and her underwear. Her head cocked to the side as the sound continued. It was coming from Oliver’s bedroom.
It was Felix’s voice.
She never heard Felix raising his voice like this before in her life. It had been raised before, yes. But never like this, and never had it had this horrid tone in it.
She pushed herself to the end of the bed, standing herself up. She ran towards his voice, opening the bathroom door and running through it to Oliver’s room. She opened that door quickly, her body standing in the doorframe.
This caught both men’s attention. They both turned to her. Oliver’s eyes widen at her attire before a smirk appeared on his face. Felix’s eyes softened as he saw her worried expression.
“Oh, angel. I’m sorry to wake you up,” Felix says, his usual sweet tone returning as if he wasn’t screaming seconds earlier.
Oliver chips in, “Yeah, sorry. Felix and I were just chatting about yo-“
A glare was sent to Oliver from Felix, shutting him up quickly. Felix turned back her her, his eyes comforting again.
“Go back to bed. Breakfast isn’t for another hour,” he said, stepping towards her.
She’s beyond confused at this point. Her hand rests against the doorframe, her eyes moving between the two men. “Is... Is everything alright, Fe?”
Felix sighs, moving towards her again. Now in front of her, his hand moves up to the side of her neck, caressing it gently. “Yeah. We’re fine. Back to bed now.”
Her eyes shift to Oliver again. He stands with a confident appearance. He has a smirk on his face, his eyes focused on her bare legs.
Embarrassed, she nods, moving backwards into the bathroom. “Alright. Good morning then, Felix,” her quiet voice says. She nods to Oliver, “Oli.”
She moves back quickly, but not quick enough, hearing Oliver quip, “Good morning to you, beautiful.”
Felix head spins back to Oliver, his voice a growl, “Don’t fucking-“
That’s all she heard, for she had went back into Felix’s room, shutting both doors. She rested her head again, letting sleep overtake her as Felix had requested.
…
When breakfast time came, Oliver was nowhere to be found, but Farleigh had blabbed to her later that Oliver had left Saltburn in a rush before breakfast with at least a black eye and a limp in his step.
She twisted the fork in her hand, her eyes focusing across the table at Felix’s bloody knuckles.
He would burn the world for her.
#saltburn#saltburn 2023#felix catton#felix catton x reader#felix catton imagine#felix catton x you#oliver quick#saltburn fanfiction#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x reader#jacob elordi imagine
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
From the request here
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.
Word Count: 4.3 k
Warnings:
“Look at the jugs on her,” one of the guys says at the busty blonde that has just been introduced for the first time in the film. A few others follow suit, whooping at the gorgeous, petite female main character popping up on screen as the movie really gets going. “That’s a woman you could lose yourself in. Fuck, I wish I could find a girl like her; I’d be a happy man for life. To have that waiting at home for me, I’d never even be tempted to stray.”
This is usually how movie night on base goes: people piling into the rec center ready to watch the latest movie from the personal collection from one of the members, but mostly it just devolves into a testosterone fest of horny boys itching to have something to focus their sexual frustrations on by ogling at the new pretty little thing on screen. Usually it doesn’t bother you, you’re used to being around all that chaos, but tonight just feels different.
Simon isn’t one for this type of gathering, but he comes to keep an on the crowd and be nearer to you and as he watches out of the corner of his eye from his place standing towards the back, he notices how your body language changes as the guys continue to raucously talk about the leading lady and how beautiful she is. It’s almost imperceptible the way you shift in your seat while you pick at the skin of your lower lip with your teeth, your shoulders slumping down as you cross your arms, but he catches it outright. He knows you and he knows this isn’t normal.
Something is bothering you.
The longer you sit there the worse it gets. Their lustful words just cut different tonight; maybe it’s exhaustion from being overworked or perhaps you’re just having an off day, but the longer they hoot and holler over the girl plastered before your eyes, the more you want to crawl out of your skin.
It’s about halfway through the movie when you slowly get up from your seat, trying not to draw attention to yourself by leaving too quickly and exit the rec without looking back. Simon is instantly concerned and wants to rush after you, but one of the newer recruits that seems to be the ringleader in all this turns to him as if to drag him into the depraved fun.
“Whatcha think; gotta admit she’s a fine thing, ain’t she Lieutenant?” he asks, nodding back at the screen. “Come on, even you gotta admit she’s perfect. Couldn’t hope to find anyone better.”
The look that Simon gives the young man through his mask, that stone cold glare that could make even the bravest man shiver, instantly shuts him up and has him facing forward again to join his brothers in arms in their jokes. His brow furrows angrily behind the fabric as he looks over the crowd of boys once more before heading out, leaving quietly like a specter on his way to find where you had gotten to.
Simon checks all the usual places, but you are nowhere to be found: the little area outside the rec where you usually join him for a smoke break, the mess hall, even your barracks are empty. Then he hears movement in the communal bathroom and knows he’s finally found you.
It looks like you’ve been rushing to get done before anyone can catch you. Your hair is damp from the shower and it drips down to leave dark stains onto your t-shirt as you stand staring at yourself in the mirror behind the sink. Simon watches quietly from his obscured place by the door as you look yourself over, scrutinizing each detail from head to toe before you give up with a sigh and a diversion of your eyes, focusing on your toothbrush instead as you pick it up and turn on the faucet. So absorbed in what you are doing, you don’t hear the lock click closed or the pair of heavy boots that cross the length of the room until there is a presence upon you.
“God, you’re so beautiful baby,” you hear that deep, gravelly voice sound from behind you while a bulky arm wraps itself around your waist from behind as Simon presses up against your back. You look back up into the mirror in front of you and are instantly met with a pair of brilliant brown eyes as he slowly removes his balaclava. “Just standin’ there fresh outta the shower and ya look like a fantasy.”
Setting the mask on the sink he joins his other arm around you and leans his face in, the tip of his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck before he presses his lips against your jugular. His lips catch the feeling of your pulse quickening through the vein at his touch. Rough hands begin to splay across your clothed stomach, running across and down to your hips with gentle caresses that make you pause. Your eyes stare into the mirror to take in your combined form as he drapes himself over you, hot lips peppering your skin with no sign of letting up.
You chuckle dismissively, trying to play off his words as a joke. Your head still isn’t in the right place and even though you enjoy the feeling of his touch, disastrous thoughts still circle throughout to cloud your mind so that you second guess even his affections.
“Oh, come off it,” you return as you grab the toothpaste off the countertop. “I do not.”
There is no hesitation in his reply. “I’m serious,” he breathes that husky whisper against your skin as his lips continue down to your shoulder as his fingers pull the t-shirt away from your collar bone to reveal more skin for him to adorn with his mouth.
You roll your eyes in the mirror so that as he looks up briefly he catches the movement. “Yeah, sure,” you again dismiss him. “Whatever you say.”
Before you can even unscrew the cap to the toothpaste, Simon reaches past you to turn off the tap and take your things out of your hands before he rotates you around so that you face him. Your backside presses into the edge of the sink as you rest up against it, mouth scrunched to one side as he gazes back at you with intent. There is a subtle frown on his lips and an anxious look in his copper eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, concerned. “Somethin’ happen? Cause I did see ya leave in a hurry back there.”
You divert your eyes, ashamed of your lack of confidence that has come forward tonight. “I don’t know, it’s nothing,” you shrug, but he isn’t buying any of it.
His large hand rests itself up under your chin, pulling your head back up to look into his face. “I think ya do know,” he says. “Will ya tell me?”
Clearing your throat, you give yourself a moment to figure out how best to proceed. “It’s just,” you say hesitantly, “I guess sometimes I just wish I looked like that, you know? I know I’m usually not this self-conscious, but tonight I guess I just hit a rough patch with my insecurities and something about the shit they were saying just got to me I guess. You see the way the guys talk about girls like in that movie, like she’s the most gorgeous thing in the world. She’s so perfect and… I…”
You gesture with your head down the length of your body to emphasize your point that you are nothing like the actress: your breasts are on the smaller side, your thighs are incredibly thick, and your stomach is not completely flat. Simon follows your hand, looking you up and down before his eyes meet yours again.
“I’m not. I know it’s fucking stupid and I shouldn’t care about all that, it doesn’t really matter, but sometimes it’s just hard to ignore. I’m not the standard when it comes to beauty, but sometimes I just want to feel like I’m the most irresistible person in the room.”
It seems like he wants to say something, you can see his mouth shifting, but instead his gaze drifts down to your lips and he pulls your chin forward to close the distance between your mouths. Instantly he overtakes your mouth with his own, tenderly capturing your lips over and over with a gentle desperation that makes him shudder against you as he moves in closer.
“Who the fuck said ya ain’t perfect?” he asks, his voice breathy against your lips. “Gimme that bastard’s name. You tell me right now so I can go ring their fuckin�� neck. Cause that is a goddamn lie.”
“No one said anything like that, it’s just the way I feel,” you answer honestly. “And you’re only saying that because you like me.”
Immediately Simon pulls you into another long kiss as if he is trying to take those insecure words right out of your mouth before you can say anything else. Breaking the kiss, Simon licks his flushed lips and shakes his head. “Really? Ya don’t think your body can drive someone wild? Then what’s this, hmm?” he asks, grabbing your wrist to pull your hand forward so that he can place the palm over top of the soft bulge growing in his boxers. “See whatcha do to me, sweetheart? Ya think that’s lyin’?”
Your hand rubs over the swell and his hips unconsciously buck slightly against your hand as he hums in approval of your touch. It is instantaneous the way you have him begging for even a simple touch from you; no other has ever held that kind of power over him, not anyone that he would give it to so freely like he does you. The warm pressure from your hand causes the pulsing to intensify as he grows harder and you find your heart beat starting to match its throbbing.
“Ya don’t think I catch the men lookin’ at ya from time to time?” he asks as he leans his head forward until it rests against your own, hands moving up under the hem of your shirt to play with the toasty skin of your abdomen as he talks. “Ya don’t think I see that their eyes glaze over as they linger on your body a bit too long for my fuckin’ likin’? Just cause they won’t say it out loud doesn’t make it any less true that you have something about ya that would drive any man wild.”
His words are like a balm to your mind and the longer he speaks the more you find yourself falling under their spell. Rough fingers are pushing up higher into your shirt, pulling it up over your waist as he runs his palms across the area while his hips press into yours. He’s not forceful or harsh, his advances are only full of adoration in that type of intense devotion that only Simon Riley is capable of when it comes to savoring the best damn thing he has ever had.
“Don’t let what ya heard back there hurt ya,” he says softly. “Yeah, ya don’t look like that bird on the screen, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t an absolute beauty. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen and I ain’t just sayin’ it, baby. But ya don’t just have ta take my word for it. Let me show ya that no one can hold a candle to what ya got.”
Simon pulls you over to one of the empty showers and gets it going, fiddling with the taps to make sure the water is going nice and warm before he turns his undivided attention back to you. Instantly his mouth is back on yours as one by one each piece of your clothing is removed and set aside in tandem with his own until you both stand before the other bare.
“I’ve already showered,” you mutter out between pauses as merely just a statement of fact rather than a reason to deny him.
Simon murmurs his disagreement into your mouth. “Don’t care,” he replies through a break in his kiss, continuing to take off your clothes as he dizzyingly tries to get at your body. “Can’t be havin’ those fuckin’ negative thoughts in that head of yours. Wanna take care of ya, make ya feel like the true beauty ya are.”
More kissing, so much that your lips are burning and raw from the friction. His mouth must be aflame too, but he doesn’t let up; he can’t, he’s captured in the wake of your allure and there is no getting out.
“What if someone comes in?” The last of your questions spills out quick.
He chuckles at your needless worry. “Already locked the door sweetheart.”
Stretching his hand out, he checks the temperature to be sure it’s right before dragging you inside the steamy oasis. The curtain is barely pulled closed before he has you pinned at the back wall, his stocky torso rubbing against your voluptuous naked body as he steals the breath from your lungs, kissing you so thoroughly that there is no distinction between faces anymore.
The change in temperature has your nipples hardening, the blossoms spiking forward at attention, and Simon can feel them poking against his chest the longer he has your mouth locked in that dance of back and forth. The moment he is aware of their presence his mouth is salivating to get at them.
You might think they are not perfect enough, but to him they are exactly what he wants.
Breaking the kiss abruptly, removing his mouth so quickly that a trial of spit still connects your lips a moment, he tilts his head downward. Being on the smaller side, he can fit your breast almost entirely in his mouth and he does, filling the cavity with as much of your tit as he can without choking.
You can hardly remember anymore why the stupid comments had you so upset in the first place when you have a man like Simon who will dote on you like you are royalty. His is the only opinion you have come to care about and it is clear that there is nothing he will ever want more than you.
He moans deep and guttural into your breast as he sucks while letting the end of his tongue flick around the nipple, circling the sensitive tissue until you are writhing against him as he holds you steady to the wall so that he can work. There is another breast after all that requires his attention and he intends to show it the same amount of affection as the other. Switching sides, he gets to work, keeping the first breast warm by cupping it in his hand.
It’s minutes of you quivering and whimpering before he emerges panting with his lips swollen and red, satisfied with his work so far. Giving his lips a break, Simon gently strokes your cheek with his fingers as he gazes into your eyes, swaying your bodies from side to side in easy movements. “Stay with me luv,” he says softly as he watches you take heavy breaths, “I ain’t done just yet.”
Those lips are on the move again to decorate your body, over your sternum and waist, until he has to kneel before you to get any further. He’s on his knees, all 6’4” of him bent to you as he places kisses across your belly while the heated water runs over his dirty blonde hair and down his back, rippling across the muscles in his shoulders as he holds your hips squeezed securely between his broad hands.
“You’re perfect just the way ya are, baby,” he groans against your moist skin, letting his lips linger wherever he puts them. “Just like this: real, curves for fuckin’ days, so much skin I get drunk tryin’ to get at it all. And the best goddamn part is that it’s all mine.”
More kisses he places along all the areas you think unworthy of adoration, but that he finds absolutely exquisite. “Mine, all mine.”
His words devolve into incoherent babble as he nestles his face into your abdomen to leave burning trails of his desire with his lips that even the warm water cannot wash away from your skin. Your body writhes in his double-handed grasp as your head falls back to rest against the wall as every inch of tender flesh prickles with the overstimulating sensation of being doted upon.
Lips keep trailing further downward from your stomach to the mound of your sex, through the trimmed patch of hair at the top of your pussy, before they sink into the bulk of your thick, stocky thighs.
“Ya think I get on my knees for any girl?” he asks from his place at the bottom of the shower as he stares up into your face with half-lidded eyes that darken the more he plays with you. “You’re the only one who can bring me to fuckin’ kneel, baby. You and your gorgeous body. I’m at it’s goddamn mercy.”
Placing his hand on your calf, he nods and you know exactly what he wants: that juicy cunt smothering his features, your bulky thighs crush against his ears. Carefully he helps you to adjust your footing so that he can lift your leg. Propping it up on his own thigh, he sits back on his calves so that his face sits at the same level as your pussy and he leans in, smothering his face right between those dangerously thick pieces of flesh as you widen your stance with his guidance to make it easier. Hardened fingertips dig themselves into your body, forcing you even more firmly against his face until his nose is pressed into your clit and he moves his head back and forth to stimulate it with the tip.
There is little oxygen to be had between the heat from the water and the heat between your legs, but it doesn’t matter. The sound of your soft, breathy gasps and moans as he penetrates your entrance with his tongue is enough to sustain him until he can come up to breathe. Lapping and thrusting, wriggling and applying pressure, if there is even a whisper of a negative thought left in your brain it is overshadowed completely now by the overwhelming euphoria of being devoured to the brink of insanity.
You buck wild and untamed, panting heavily as the warmth in your belly begins gathering quicker than you could have thought, the coil pulling tightly as minute by aching minute Simon draws your body to the edge of its release. He is relentless in his endeavor, putting your needs above anything else- even breathing. That tongue has moved up to your clit now and with weighty presses over the tiny bean you soon are spilling over the edge and he has to hold onto you tight so that you don’t slip and fall.
Simon stays locked to your pussy until the very last second, keeping his movements going even as you try to pry him off from the sensitivity that is almost too much to handle. It isn’t until you finally stop writhing that he emerges from between your legs with a smile that has your stomach doing somersaults as he wipes his mouth clean of your cum.
“Second course,” he growls before you even have a chance to fully come down from your high.
Oh you have got him down bad tonight.
He carefully flips you round to face the wall and uses his feet to make you spread your legs as wide as you can get them. A hefty hand runs itself over the curve of your ass, following the line down all the way to the underside before he grabs it in his hand and gives the meat a firm squeeze.
“Those little boys just don’t know how to handle this much woman; all these fuckin’ curves are too much pleasure for a bastard that don’t know the treasure he’s got. But I know what a fuckin’ feast ya are,” he groans as he aligns your hips and enters you from behind with a forceful grunt that reverberates off the enclosed space of the shower.
You push palms flat against the wall to steady yourself. “They don’t know how ta treat ya right, how ta love a body that just keeps givin’ and givin’. But I don’t have that problem, sweetheart.”
Simon’s devout words are like liquid fire and as his cock stretches you wide, the euphoria of his talk runs through you to make you burn. Your body is his religion and goddamn does he always worship it right. All those cares, all that self-loathing and doubt entirely evaporate from your mind as he pushes your shoulders forward to make you arch your back so that he can pound into your pussy hard and deep from behind, making your plump ass bounce off his pelvis with a recoil that draws his gaze.
“Fuck,” he breathes, so obsessed with the way you look around him that he is trying to ingrain the image in his mind.
His aching exclamation thrills you, making your heart skip a beat as his thrusts continue to rock through you. To be craved in such a way, to be thought of like the woman in the movie, that is what he is giving you now and it is euphoric. His intensity is orgasmic and your body responds in kind as he grabs you to move you closer.
“Don’t concern yourself with the bullshit ideas of some puny little boys when ya got a man who will always make sure you feel like a fuckin’ princess when you’re in his arms,” he says in a whisper at your ear as he pulls you back to leans against his chest. “Cause ya are, sweetheart. Your my fuckin’ goddess of a woman.”
The way he says it makes you ache all over and you can feel it twinge in your clit. “Say it again,” you beg, needing to hear him make those sweet combinations of sounds once more until your body vibrates with pleasure.
His hand comes up to cup around your breast so that he can massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to mewl at the sensation. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful baby, so goddamn perfect just like this, and I love every last fuckin’ inch of ya. My princess.”
Your cheeks feel like they are glowing and on fire as thrusts after thrust he pounds into you, stretching you and filling you full on all of his passion for your body. You will never be able to make everyone see you for the gorgeous being that you truly are, but that doesn’t matter anymore. Simon is more than enough to keep you feeling like the most beautiful girl in the whole world; you are safe with him.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as his arms that are filled with your waist clamp down tighter to secure you to him so that he can shove his cock even harder into your now dripping core. “Yes, yes,” you whimper out.
“Come for me again,” he practically demands as he watches you falling apart once more. “Come on, pretty girl, one more for me. One more together.”
Your limbs are tingling with each snap of his hips against your ass. It’s close, right there, you can almost feel it again as the coil wounds itself tight once more in the pit of your stomach. You clench down on him, making him falter before recovering and continuing on. A few more pumps of him deep in your core and it is right there at the precipice.
“Let go for me,” he whispers into your ear as you clench once more around him and something about the way he says it sets you off. You come for the second time, the orgasm rocketing through you until you can feel it like fire shooting through your veins as you shake with the intensity of it all.
Quickly he pulls out just in time as he too pops off and comes between your thighs as you clamp them together around his cock. The ejaculate runs down your legs as he milks every last bit out of the tip until his body hangs limp and his head falls down to rest the forehead against your shoulder. Still he holds you close, murmuring soft praises against your neck about how fucking amazing that was and how there is no one else that will ever look more beautiful all flushed and exhausted.
Holding onto you, Simon takes a few steps back forcing you to come along until you are both submerged under the showerhead to let that soothing water run over your bodies until you can both come back down from your high. There are no words yet, none that need to be said out loud, all he needs to do is keep you wrapped in his arms a little longer.
It’s quiet, just the sound of the water rushing filling the silent space for a while, until a noise breaks you both out of the moment. There is a banging on the door from the outside, repeated knocking loudly and clearly; you’ve been in here for too long, but Simon doesn’t seem to be bothered. There is no attempt to leave the steamy oasis yet and soon the sound subsides and you are both left in the silence once again.
“They’ll just have to fuckin’ wait,” he says against the side of your head in a hushed whisper, lips tempting your earlobe. “They can consider it a punishment for making ya upset. Besides, I’m still busy and you’re not goin’ anywhere.”
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