Tumgik
#i wonder who's phones are these *coughs*
rizsu · 5 months
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he's married ?! nanami kento.
sum. he's easily the top most handsome guy within his job. his relationship status is unknown, so what happens when his co-workers ship him with a female worker?
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nanami is well known within his company. tall, insanely fit, and an attractive voice. it's not uncommon for men and women alike to find themselves thinking about him often. what's not common is knowing about his love life. no one knows anything and he would've kept it that way. but when push comes to shove, and you're shipped with someone who's not your beloved, nanami will make it known that he's not only taken but married.
in the coffee-break room there are three guys. now, there's nothing unusual about this — no, no. they're just three guys that are co-workers... except there's a twist. they aren't your regular co-workers, they're your uncommon trio of male gossipers and nanami just so happened to be their newest victim.
"shh, shh! he's here," guy one, tichi, whispers to the others, raising his eyebrows and pointing his chin to nanami's position.
the other two take a quick glance, nodding their heads when they've seen nanami's back faced towards them. it's a perfect moment to strike up a conversation, especially since it's just four men here.
guy two, tacho, shuffles his feet to the empty space near nanami. he pretends to open a sugar packet, fiddling with it as his eyes peep over nanami's shoulder. his heart skips multiple beats when the man himself turns around.
"morning to you, tacho," nanami greets, nodding his head before he turns his attention back to his cup of coffee.
"y-yeah, morning!" he stutters, awkwardly smiling in return. he turns his head to the other two in the background, mouthing the word 'help' to them. unfortunately, they do not give the aid to their friend. instead, tichi fakes a series of coughs and guy three, toeny, gives him a confident double thumbs up. there's no hope, tacho sighs.
it's a silent moment between the men — only the sounds of coffee brewing and a spoon coming into contact with the mug can be heard. tacho's mouth itches him, he happened to remember his group's recent conversation about nanami. he must ask — even if it costs him a mutual co-worker.
"so, nanami," he begins, waiting for nanami to give him the undivided attention.
nanami doesn't face him, but he hums in response. tacho doesn't mind this as an answer, so he continues, "i was wondering if the rumors of you being with the new worker, yeri, are true?"
there is one big lie in that question: there are no such rumors. it's just a theory the trio has been gossiping about every night. nanami's been helping out yeri for quite some time, one can only think that they have a special connection going on.
"that is bullshit," nanami gives a firm answer. nothing more, nothing less.
tacho's stunned, he blinks a few times to recollect himself. "oh — so you're not with her?"
nanami doesn't answer yet, but the two in the back give their unwanted reactions. tichi clicks his tongue three times, shaking his head in disappointment at tacho's second question. it's obvious dumbass, he thinks. toeny, on the other hand, presses his lips in a thin line, pretending to read a magazine that's been on the counter.
nanami reaches into his pocket, whipping out his phone. the trio's confused until nanami speaks.
"i am married man. this is my wife," he educates, pressing the power button to show you as his lockscreen.
he collects three gasps, internally nodding at their shock. that's right, i'm gladly taken.
"all this time you've been... MARRIED?!" tacho's voice heightens, he drops his spoon in shock. it's unbelievable yet somewhat believable.
nanami breathes out a 'yes', raising his arm to show the wristwatch. "she bought this for our five-years anniversary recently. it's quite expensive, going over four-thousand," he brags, emphasizing on key words.
he's been waiting for the precious day where someone indirectly asks for his relationship status. the day has come and he will spend it bragging about his beloved.
nanami doesn't give them a chance to speak, he carries on with his bragging, "she's a very lovely woman. all my bentos are made by her and she writes little notes for each. some may think it's childish but that's bullshit! they just haven't experienced the love of a woman. matter of fact, her most beautiful moments are when she's freshly awake. the smile she gives me is nothing but angelic."
his speech doesn't stop there, but it did for the trio. his words went in one ear and out the next. nanami's blabbering about his wife immediately set a blank face upon tichi, tacho, and toeny. they're jealous and also surprised.
"the way a woman can change a man will never not be amazing," toeny whispers, blankly gazing at nanami's ongoing speech.
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rhubarbspring · 1 year
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celesteleoves · 11 months
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“BACK OFF AND LOOK AWAY.”
ೃ࿐ KATSUKI BAKUGOU X FEM!READER
summary: katsuki HATES when others attempt to ask you out on a date, unless they are himself.
warnings: jealously, protective katsuki, soft!reader, you’re pretty it’s hard for people not to stare! fluff.
a/n: i love me some jealously drabbles. TYSM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS 🤍
-
no matter how many years katsuki had known you for, he would never be able to get over the suffocating beauty you held, you yourself sometimes didn’t even understand it.
it was in katsukis nature to be protective of those he loved. he was known for his high guard he held around those who he was not fond of, often coming off as intimidating and standoffish. you on the other hand, meant way more to him than anyone else on the planet. (besides his mom, of course)
he simply just could not stand it when someone’s stare lingered on you for too long or a group of childish boys giggled too hard at the sight of you.
with katsukis angry, looming figure beside you, not many dared to come up to you in fear of people crushed to shreds by bakugou katsuki.
today had been different apparently. a boy, around katsukis height (maybe even shorter) had walked up to you at a cafe you and katsuki were frequent customers at.
you sat at your table alone, waiting patiently for your boyfriend who was a bit late to the cafe due to his mother wanting him to help clean up her kitchen, which he groaned about while on the phone with you.
your eyes were focused intently on your phone as you laughed quietly at a post mina had made. it was you and katsuki sitting in the U.A. dorms snuggly on the couch as she captioned it ‘grumpy stole my sunshine.’
your attention was swiftly brought away from your phone as a cough was heard from above you, looking up, you caught eyes with a boy who seemed to look nervous. his eyes were dark and he had a backwards hat on. basically, he looked like a fuckboy.
“hey! um, i was wondering if i could get your number.” he nervously scratched his neck as he turned around slightly. you furrowed your brows and followed his gaze, finding a group of boys sitting in a booth close by, phones out on display as they laughed.
you smiled, “i’m sorry but i’m actually waiting for someone.”
your tone was polite and endearing, hoping to not come off as rude or to embarrass the boy.
your boyfriend, who had been parking while this went on thought otherwise. he was ready to make a scene.
“come on, just let me get your number yeah? the person your waiting for isn’t worth it obviously if they aren’t here on time.” the boy had now leaned over you, practically climbing his way to sit beside you.
you looked at him like he had two heads and he immediately stiffened up.
the boys ears had turned red from embarrassment of being rejected by you – who sat uncomfortably in your seat.
“he is worth it, he’s just running late-” you had barely gotten your sentence out of your mouth when the boy was pulled away from you by his collar and a figure had casted a shadow over you.
“i’m fucking here, who’s this douchebag?” katsuki paused and raised a eyebrow. “let’s keep this civilized, yeah?”
katsuki turned the boy to face him with a scowl as the boy slowly realized you were in a relationship.
“shit, i didn’t realize.” the boy had pulled katsuki’s hand off of him and was starting to back up before katsuki took a step towards him.
“sure, back off and look away from my girlfriend. tell your little group that too.”
the boy nodded and jogged back to his friends that sat in their booth, jaws dropped.
“kats! i’m sorry i should’ve just toughened up like you told me too and rejected him more bluntly..” you sighed as you rethought the whole situation.
katsuki took a seat infront of you and let his expression become soft as he stared into your eyes.
“nah, don’t apologize, y/n. let’s just forget about this and talk about how good you look right now.” katsuki smirked at the end of his sentence as you blushed and laughed while reaching forward grabbing his rough, scarred hand that squeezed yours back tightly.
you knew you could always rely on katsuki.
-
a/n: heyy. it’s been a while, around like what? a month or so since i last posted :’) IVE BEEN SO BUSY WITH SPORTS, SCHOOL, ETC! i’m back though and will probably write on the weekends because why not? please send in requests for mha (cough cough, my hun bakugou and more!)
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marvelfilth · 2 months
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The mustache
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Natasha crashes your date
Masterlist
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You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.
You don't.
You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.
You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.
You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.
You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.
Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.
Natasha.
Yep. Here's your answer.
You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.
You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.
“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.
How bad is it?
You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.
Another message appears right in front of your eyes.
That bad?
You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.
Six o'clock, dumbass.
You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.
She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.
The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.
You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”
She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.
You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.
You're ridiculous
Her reply comes instantly.
And yet you love me.
Her words hit a little too close to home.
You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.
Another message comes through.
What's wrong?
You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.
And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.
You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.
The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.
Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.
“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.
“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”
“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-
“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”
You blush, biting on your lower lip.
“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”
“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.
Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.
“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”
You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”
She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”
You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.
“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.
You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.
“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.
Great.
She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.
The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.
“I need to get over someone.”
There, you've said it.
“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.
“You don't know them.”
She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”
You blink away the tears. “A few years.”
She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.
“Natasha…”
“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.
“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.
“Kate?”
You shake your head. “You don't know them.”
“Then tell me. What would it matter?”
“Nat, can we just-”
“Tell me.”
You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.
“Please.”
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.
The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”
“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”
She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”
You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.
“Open your eyes.”
You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.
“I love you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”
She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”
You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.
Natasha looks delightfully confused.
“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”
She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”
“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.
“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.
The kiss grows heated.
“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”
You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.
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messylustt · 9 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.2k words
fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part
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angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) — you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, you’re left…well…shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state you’ve never seen him in before.
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You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.
You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasn’t top notch you’re sure he’ll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.
You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.
He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. “Y/n. How are you?”
You smile. “Good…yeah, no I’m good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?”
“Oh.” He spins. “I swear I saw him over there.” He points in a random direction. “…now he’s gone. Maybe with Gwen.” He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.
“Well, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.”
“Translation? To what language?” Pav asks.
“From Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.”
“Ah…wait, but doesn’t Miguel fully speak it?” Pav pauses. “Yeah, he’d know a lot more than Miles.”
You nod. “He just won’t tell me.” You mutter under your breath.
“What was that?” Pav asks, brows furrowed.
You look back up. “Miguel’s just kind of busy right now.” You had no idea if he was or not. “And so I thought Miles might be free.”
“I see.” Pav nods. “Come on, I’ll help you find him.” Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.
“Miles!” Pav called out to nowhere in particular. “Miles!?”
“Is yelling his name really gonna help?” Your brows furrow.
“I like to think yelling will conjure up the whole ‘spider-sense’ thing.” Pav says, still gazing around. “Wait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.”
You chuckle, looking around. And that’s when you spot Miles and Gwen. “Miles!” You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.
Miles turns, and copies your smile. “Y/n, hey.”
“Okay look, I’m sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?” You ask, hopeful.
Miles tilts his head slightly. “Yeah, sure. As long as it isn’t French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I don’t know.”
Your smile widens. “No, no. None of those. It’s just Spanish.”
“Oh.” Miles stands straighter. “I’ll warn you I don’t know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.”
“Thank you.” You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.
“Okay, so it’s two sentences.” You begin. Miles nods. “The first one is…’Me encantaría usar…tu cama para otras…cosas’.” You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.
When you look back to Miles, he’s staring at you blinking. You stare back. “What?” You ask.
“Um.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m probably hearing it wrong.” He mutters to himself before he’s looking back to an expectant you.
“What was the second one?” He asks, a little more curious this time.
“Uh…’¿No crees que…me vería bonita atrapada entre…tus sábanas?’”
Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. “What does it mean?”
He coughs. “Who said that to you?”
“Oh, no I said it to someone.” You answer. “Well, they asked me to say it…”
“You said it someone…” he drifts off, slightly gulping.
“What? Is it…bad?” Your brows are further furrowed. “Come on, Miles, please. I’ve been dying to know what it means all of last night.”
“Well, the first one…it means ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.” He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you don’t catch it right.
“What?”
“And the second one means ‘don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets?’.” Miles’ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.
This time you’re staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. “What?” You repeat stupidly. That can’t be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bed…
Now you weren’t dumb you were just…in shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.
Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadn’t realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.
Then there was the touches on your chin…
At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something he’d do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasn’t grabbing Peter’s face like that, he wasn’t leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.
Now you’ve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. “Um.” You nod. You don’t know why you’re nodding. You just need to do something that isn’t stare off into space.
“Who, um, asked you to say that?” Gwen asks.
You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.
“Oh, uh, nobody.” You didn’t really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasn’t even something. It wasn’t…right?
But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did Miguel…? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. Though…part of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.
You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. It’s as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is well…Miguel.
;;
“What was that about?” Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.
Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. “Yeah…nah, that’s right.” He mutters. “My translations right.”
“Who asked her—“
“Asked who what?” Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.
“Y/n.” Gwen says. “She asked Miles to translate something for her.”
“See, I knew this guy would be helpful.” Hobie slightly shakes Miles’ shoulders.
“I think someone has a crush on y/n.” Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.
“Who?” Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.
Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadn’t seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didn’t pay that much attention to people’s gazes, and Miles was well…new. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldn’t believe how oblivious they were.
Hobie began to figure out Miguel’s little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadn’t needed Hobie.
And when Miguel’s jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.
“Come on, you lot.” Hobie says staring at them. “Tell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?”
Gwen looks down, thinking. “Miguel.”
Hobie nods. “Uh huh.” He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. “Oh bloody hell, you lot are thick.”
“Oh…” Pav mutters. “Oh!” He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.
“Thank anarchy.” He mutters, thankful one person caught on.
“Miguel likes y/n?!” Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.
“It’d seem so.” Hobie smirks.
;;
Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to say—and having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shock—you've arrived back to sweaty palms.
You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fraction—your nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.
Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.
Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of ‘a mess’.
"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.
You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"
"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.
"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.
Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to say…go."
Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.
Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.
"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotions—stress, anxiety,...fear?
Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.
You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.
"Are you...okay?"
Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.
You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."
Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.
"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.
And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.
"Miguel, where did you go?"
"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.
"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"
"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.
But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."
"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."
"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.
"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.
"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.
"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.
"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softened—a broken one.
You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"
You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.
But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?
Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.
Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should do what he’s thinking.
But then you’re slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he can’t have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.
Your breathing hitches as Miguel’s breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.
No. He had told himself he wouldn’t think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say ‘shut the hell up’.
You could feel Miguel’s entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.
For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that ‘this was what has to be done’ and that ‘no, you can’t get distracted’.
Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.
You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didn’t let your waist go. You stopped those voices and he’d be damned if he let you step away from his body now.
Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguel’s fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.
“I’m…” You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. “Sorry…I probably shouldn’t have hugged you.” You could practically taste his breath.
“Yeah…you probably shouldn’t have.” His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.
They’re dry—of course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks.
“I’m sorry that I just…sorta came in.” You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didn’t seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the one’s in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.
Well maybe the second smartest choice… He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from ‘how much more could he take’ to ‘how much more…more…more’. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.
In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.
“A-and I probably shouldn’t have assumed all that stuff…” you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. It’s safe to say your were flustered.
“I think you did alright.” He partially whispered.
“Well…you’re not throwing a chair..so..” Stupid, stupid, stupid—you think to yourself. “I mean…”
And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him look…happy?
“Careful.” You say. “You look like you’re expressing a ‘sparkly emotion’.”
“Oh no.” His grin doesn’t fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. “We wouldn’t want that…would we?”
You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. “…cute.”
You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.
But what he didn’t know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word ‘cute’ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.
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I’m sorry this one’s kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before they…well…y’know.
at this point I’ve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next part…mhm…FINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS
plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are — i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff
taglist: @dangerousdreamkitty @ale-maral @inosukesweirdwife @flooftoof @cynicallyaestetic @silassinclair @mariiyoushi @ilovedilfjake @toastlover21 @wlellsl @k1rbbo @bitchotine @guacam011y @blnk338 @wolfiepirate @kurxxmi @corpsebridenightamare @ohantonia @yunonaneko @irenered-20 @z3r0art @sunflowercandie @perilous-pasta @gloriouskryptonitecrown @whyamistillhere78 @ritzzzsblog @mm1sta @tealcoloured-murder @aweebsimp101 @livelaughlaurv @s0dium @roguepancake @sunshiines-stuff @internal-soundtrack @oscarisdaddy69 @clairacassidy @captainquake42 @nanaloverz @ilyless @sindulgent666 @shine101 @thebadasssass @hibeejibees @nirishin @ily2lia @lillunna @cinnamoncattie @futuristicpandakid @maroonobserver @thatsopanu @edgyficuselastica @kittekat420 @stararctic @maxi-ride @renn-pumkin-head @scaraza @justanotherkpopstanlol @fauxizs @cloudsandrenoswife @ilmovor @larissa-lolll @elliemm @httpkiyoomi @j2warren @arquiiva @ilovemiguelohara @a-monster-can-filled-with-cum @fandom-gal44 @elwyn7 @albiebright
taglist #2 taglist #3 taglist #4 taglist #5 taglist #6 taglist #7
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sp0o0kylights · 9 months
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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 
They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 
His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 
This is his golden ticket. 
The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 
He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.
 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.
No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 
He's fucked. 
He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 
 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 
If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.
Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 
"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 
Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)
"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 
Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 
"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 
Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 
"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.
Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 
Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 
Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 
Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 
The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.
Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 
("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 
Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 
Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 
"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 
Eddie flipped him off.) 
One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.
No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 
Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!
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luverboychris · 2 months
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SECRETS | MATT STURNIOLO
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“CAN I TELL YOU A SECRET?”
“OH, SO ARE WE JUST SPILLING SECRETS NOW?”
soft dom!matt x fem reader, best friends, jealousy, daddy kink
— 5858 words
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“yea.. i’m not fucking going.” matt huffs, his legs man spread on the fluffed up couch. chris mentally pulls his hair out at how annoying his stubborn brother was being right in front of him. he hated how much matt never would go out, and just be a hermit crab at home.
“bro, fuck you.” chris whines, “you ain’t fun.”
matt doesn’t even budge— he wasn’t going to give in on chris’ tricks. he always does this to him, trying to shit on matt and say things that think that would hurt him. yet, matt couldn’t care less at anything his brother threw at him.
“fine, i honestly don’t really care anymore. nick, y/n, and i are going to be just fine without you.”
that’s when matt’s gaze broke off from his phone and straight up to chris. his eyebrows furrowed as he quickly turns his phone off, pressing it down on his lap.
“y/n is going with you and nick?” matt asks.
the thing was, chris didn’t even say that to try to make matt come. he was just blabbering and.. it was true, you were coming with them. “ya?” chris replies.
matt brushes his hands through his brown curly locks as he tries to fight the urge to not go to the party with them all of sudden. he so badly wanted to just stay home, order in food, and play video games alone all night. but how could he do that when you would be out at the party?
unsupervised. anyone could be watching you talking with you, flirting with you, dancing up on you, he clenches his fist into the blanket, his knuckles going white. he was getting angry just fucking thinking about that.
“you know, i think imma come.” matt blurted, “it’s time i come to a party. don’t know the last time i been to one.” that’s when chris yelps out and jumps up like a child. matt begins to get second embarrassment from his brother and rolls his eyes at his immaturity.
“shut the fuck up before i change my mind.” matt says, chris stops jumping and gives him a pouty face.
—that night, at the party
chris, nick, and matt all wait for your uber to get to the party. all of them patiently waiting on their phones, except for matt. he has his hands in his jean pockets and his car keys dangling attached to the right side of them. his eyes looking out for a sign of an uber.
your uber finally drops you off by the sidewalk, you thank the driver before walking out. matt gulps as he catches you see them at the front of the crib. you wave to them and chris and nick wave back, matt being incredibly late to join with them.
he tried. he tried so fucking hard to block out the thoughts he was having of you. but, he just couldn’t. especially when you were looking like that.
you were wearing a short skirt, your thighs showing the perfect amount for him to wonder what color thong you were wearing right above them. your tight tanktop, with the words slut for coffee printed across your chest.
he couldn’t help but look up your thighs, making his way to read the words on your shirt. you catch him staring but you assume he is just trying to read what type of graphic shirt you decided to wear that day.
you make your way towards the triplets, pulling them all in a singular hug. “thank you guys for getting me an uber.” you exclaim. they all pull back, “uh we can’t take the credit, it was matt who paid for it.” nick says.
you snap your head away from nick, to matt. you look up at him with eyes filled with gratitude and flash him a smile. “aw, matty? you bought it for me?” you say. matt closes his eyes, his little eye wrinkles showing. he shrugs his shoulders at you.
“mhm.” he says to you. you give him a personal hug, pulling him into your embrace. he chokes up, a delayed reaction to wrap his hands around you like you were freely doing to him.
he felt your boobs press against his middle half, as he coughed a little from not suspecting it at all. his face starting to feel hot and red as you pressed him harder against you, innocently smiling into his cologne infused black shirt.
“a-alright, alright— let’s go in already.” matt says as he pats your back awkwardly. that made you push yourself off him and end the hug. you all walk in together just catching up and then finally opening the door. music vibrating throughout the whole house, at least it was good music though. whoever was on aux, needed head you thought to yourself.
chris’ friends didn’t even hesitate to try and shove cups of who knows what in your faces. of course, chris took it and gulped it in one go. nick stook his hand out, shaking his head signaling he wasn’t really in the mood to drink.
matt did nothing but look to the side of you, waiting to see what you would do. you shrug your shoulders at him when you catch him staring down at you. you smile as you make eye contact and reach for the cup.
that’s when matt tells them ‘no thanks’ for him and chris’ friends walk away, nick and chris trailing right behind them making their way to the kitchen.
you are about to put the cup to your lips, when matt pulls the cup out of your grip. you open your mouth, giving him a rude stare. “what the fuck?”
matt now has the solo cup behind his back, not letting you even think to snatch it back from him. “you’re not drinking this, y/n.” he snaps, “who knows what they put in it. what if they drugged it, hmm?” that’s when you roll your eyes at him, trying to reach from behind his back.
he smirks at you, finding amusement in taunting you with this drink. he knows he wouldn’t let you have in, but you set your damn mind on getting that cup of alcohol and mixed juice back. “give it back!” you say, he keeps slowly bringing it towards you as if you were a dog trying to get a chew toy.
“huh, you want it?” he teases. you stop trying to steal it back, growing genuinely annoyed with him.
he quickly notices, and his smirk erases from his face and it goes to a softer expression.
“hey, i’m sorry. here.” he grabs the cup from behind his back and brings it to his lips, taking a sip as if he was sacrificing himself for you. he gulps, his eyes shutting as he feels the burning sensation run down his throat. he only took a small sip, before handing it back to you. “needed to make sure it was okay.”
you take the cup from him, taking a sip. you almost gag at how bad this random concoction was. “this tastes horrible.” you spat, he giggles at your gross expressions.
matt was honestly glad you didn’t like it. he didn’t want you to down the drink, because he knew that lights a fire in you to go for another drink, which leads to another and another.
“you want to try this one? swear it tastes good. vodka cranberry.” a mans voice spoke from behind, causing matt to snap his body towards him. he was clearly watching the whole thing go down between you and matt and that was his queue to make a move on you. his cup was glass, the visible bubbly red drink out in front of you.
he was attractive.. tall, brown hair, brown eyes. no tattoos though, which you wish he did because man, did you adore tattoos. your eyes scan the random boy, then straight to matt. your eyes going straight to look at his left arm, filled with all sorts of tattoos. even though matt was your friend, you knew he was attractive as fuck. he was just your type honestly. but, you always kept that to yourself.
before you even had the chance to reply back, matt steps in front of you hiding you from the him. he pushes the drink back towards his chest, “ya, she’s not taking that.” matt huffs.
the boy puts his hands up signaling he causes no harm or trouble. “hey that’s fine. i get it.” he says, “dance with me though?” he moves himself so he can see you again and ruin matt’s plan of hiding you behind him.
you couldn’t help but nod your head and giggle at the boy. he brings his hand out to you, and you put your hand on top of his. you both walk away into the living room while one of your favorite songs start to play.
matt has his hands to his side, just watching you guys walk away from him. why did he feel hurt? well, he knew why but he hated how you didn’t care to stay back with him. if only you knew he went to this stupid ass party just because he heard your name fall out of chris’ lips. if only you knew how much effect you had over him.
matt stops the drowning of thoughts in his head, following you and the boy to the living room. you don’t notice because you’re so into what the boy was doing— swaying your hips side to side as you both smile at each other.
matt just sits on the couch in the corner, his arms crossed with a straight face. he bites his lip as he catches the boy’s hand snake down your waist. he constantly keeps readjusting himself on the couch, trying to get comfortable but it was impossible.
he was raging with jealousy. all he wanted to do was get up from this couch, push the shit out of this loser and make you dance with him instead.
he wanted his hands rubbing on your hips, your arms wrapped around his neck. he wanted to pull you in slowly as you make eye contact. before you both close them gently as he kisses you. how badly he wanted to slip his tongue in your mouth and hearing you moan as he does it.
he couldn’t handle watching this anymore, seeing both of your lips move talking to each other. what the fuck were you guys even talking about? —he thought to himself.
he rolls his eyes, getting up from the couch and going outside. he was happy he brought a joint with him. he takes it out of his pocket, putting it in between his fingers and lighting it up. he was grateful that no one was outside, and if they were— they were all the way far out passed out already.
matt was out there for quite awhile, trying to enjoy every bit of this joint and inhaling it like it was the only way to stay alive. he got half way through his joint, when you suddenly were looking around wondering where he went. the random boys hands still rubbing all over your waist. you pull back, telling him you had to go to the bathroom— the most classic runaway excuse.
you walk around the house, constantly pushing into sweaty bodies. that’s when you see through the kitchen window matt sitting on the outside couch with smoke coming out of his mouth. you walk outside, sober because all you had was one fucking sip of that horrid drink.
“matty?” you say. he snaps his head to turn around, shifting his gaze off the full moon and towards your face. he noticed how the brightness from the moon lit up your face so perfectly, almost sparkling every move you made coming closer to him.
he didn’t respond though, pulling his head back to stare at the sky as he took another hit of the joint. “matthew.” you repeat yourself, now stopping with the nicknames.
“now you want to pay attention to me.” he says, laced with attitude. you sit down next to him, your guy’s legs both spread out on the couch as he moves down just a tad so you have more room next to him.
“nuh uh. stop it matt” you reply, taking your hands out towards him so you can take the joint from him. he doesn’t give it to you, instead he keeps it between his two fingers and brings it up against your lips instead. you lift your head up a little to get better access and you suck in taking a big puff. “fuck i needed this. alcohol is overrated honestly.”
the thing with you is, you got high pretty quick. same with matt, but he didn’t care. he loved the feeling so he always kept going.
the joint now barely there as you guys both take your last hits. “want the roach?” he asks, turning his face to look at you. thats when you notice how fucking red his eyes are. and you assume your eyes are just as bloodshot.
you only have smoked with matt a couple of times, but it was in groups with other people. it was different when smoking with someone one on one. the conversations were more meaningful, more intimate. everything was more intimate when you came to think of it.
“no, you can have it.” you reply, “im too high right now my god.” you guys both laugh at how baked you got, but you both enjoyed it.
while everyone was getting shit faced with alcohol, you guys were chilling in the backyard with just the faint music from inside and the pool fountain running as white noise.
he finishes it, throwing it on the grass before he puts his hands behind his head laying down on the couch next to you. your legs were lightly brushing on one another due to the couch not being the biggest. but, matt absolutely loved the physical touch. even if it was just a smidge of it. he craved it so badly.
however the one reason why you never liked smoking with the opposite sex alone started to come up for air and you realized again.. it made you insanely horny. always.
because the way matts arms with his veins popping out throughout started to kill you and it made you bite your lip without you even realizing. “so why’d you leave that guy alone?” his voice was low and raspy, and you swallowed trying to contain yourself.
you squeezed your legs together. matt instantly realized but he thought you were just chilly from the constant breeze of wind ever so often.
“well i started thinking about where you went off to.” you reply. matt’s heart started to beat rapidly. was it hot outside? no. he was just getting too warm for his liking now knowing you were thinking about him. that he was the reason why you left that fucking dude behind.
“thinking about me?” he mumbles.
god, you couldn’t handle this. his voice was so raspy and husk. what was going on with you? you started to slowly realize that you shouldn’t have smoked with your best friend alone. “mhm” was all you were able to say.
his eyebrows knit together, as he turns his head to look at you. he brings his hand up and hold your face from under your jaw so you’re looking at him. “what..?” you ask.
“no nothing. was seeing if you’re acting sus because you’re high as fuck or something else is bothering you.” that caused your face to blush up, trying to look away from him. he still had control of your face, turning it back towards him.
“hey hey stop that. what are you doing?” he asks.
“i’m doing nothing. i-i uh, ya i just am really high not going to lie.” you laugh, he giggles with you.
“me too.” he replies. he lifts his head up just enough to look down at your skirt, as he tugs it. “geez, how are you not frozen right now wearing this?”
he tugs it a little too rough towards him, causing your skirt to fly up just enough for your red thong to be exposed. you push it down quickly, hoping he didn’t see it. but, of course he did.
“i didn’t mean for that to happen, i’m sorry.” he says with truth in his voice. you know he didn’t, but it was kind of hot.
“it’s fine matt. it’s just my red thong.” you say, lifting your skirt back up for your entire thong to show. you would never have the confidence to do that if you hadn’t smoked. it turned you into a whole different person. a person that deep down you always wanted to show. you were less anxious.
he slaps his hands over his eyes, covering them. “y/n!” he says, “what are you doing?” he truly didn’t know what you were doing. you never acted like this, at least towards him. yeah, he would see you flirt with guys, hook up with guys. but he never seen you be like this with him.
“sorry, i think i just do whatever i want when i’m high.” you giggled. you pull matt’s fingers away from his face to let him know it’s okay.
“honestly, i’m the same way.” he mumbles. he puts his hand down on your thigh, rubbing it. this feeling itself made your whole body shiver. his firm was strong, without it hurting you.
“can i tell you a secret?” he asks.
“oh so are we just spilling secrets now?” you reply. he takes his hand off your thigh, and a small whimper escapes your lips without you even trying due to the loss of physical contact.
“mhm.” he says.
“so spill.” you respond
“i think you look good tonight.” he blurts. your stomach was doing flips, front and back, how can he just compliment you like that out of the blue?
“thank you matty.” you say, trying to keep your cool.
he nods at you.
“now you tell me a secret.” he says. you guys are now turned to your side, staring at each other. you can swear his eyes get even more red with every second goes by, “anything.. go.”
“okay, i can’t believe i’m saying this,” you whisper, “but i have such a bad daddy kink.”
matt’s eyes widened, as much as they could at least because with how high he was his eyelids felt so incredibly heavy. his face got red, feeling him become hard from underneath his jeans. “daddy kink?” his voice wanting to make sure he heard you correctly.
you start to feel embarrassed. should you have not admitted to that secret of yours? you put your hands over your face, your face turning crimson red.
“so when you fuck men, you call them daddy?” he asks another question. you felt like he was doing this to just torment you at this point. you remove one of your hands off your face, reaching it out to slap matt on the chest. he reacts with a fake pout on his face and rubs his chest softly.
“shut up. pretend i didn’t say anything, okay? change of subject.” you say. you move from your side to now laying on your back, as you look up at the tall trees hovering over you with the stars peeking through them.
“no, no.” matt quickly says, “i think it’s sexy.” you were not expecting him to say anything along those lines. why was this making you hornier than ever?
you started to grow more and more confident, “so you want girls that your fucking to call you daddy?”
matt tries to reposition himself, getting harder and harder by the second. you notice him fidgeting around on the couch right next to you. “i, uh haven’t fucked in a while. but yea, i love it.”
“ya?” is all you reply. you feel the devil on the right of your shoulder whisper things in your ear to repeat back to your best friend. “fuck matt, i’m so wet right now.” you whisper, “look.”
your hands have a mind of their own as they snake their way down your body, down your skirt. you tease him, lifting up your skirt and rubbing your heat over your laced thong and rubbing it up and down gently but effectively.
the feeling of your hands touching yourself cause a soft moan to escape your lips. matt’s eyes are glued to your face and then to your skirt. “oh my god..” matt says, “i…”
“what’s wrong daddy?” you say. wow, was this marijuana fully transforming you into a bad bitch. matt licks his lips, as if he was a kid in a candy store.
“y/n.. you can’t-” the way he wanted you to keep going but he was trying to keep his composure.
“hmm?” you ask.
“you can’t do that in front of me.” he states.
“why can’t i?” you tease. he grips the arm that was rubbing your heat, stopping you.
“because it’s making me go crazy.” he snaps, “do you want me to go crazy?” he adds. you nod your head vigorously at him, giving him puppy dog eyes. yes, you did want him to go crazy.
that’s when he fully removes your hand away from your pussy, and replaces it with his. now rubbing your thong covered heat, focusing on circular motions on your clit. you arch your back in response, this felt so fucking good and being high was making everything a hundred times more euphoric.
“m-matt.” you moan out.
“ya, baby?” he says, as he now slides your thong to the side, rubbing your bare pussy. “do you know how long i’ve been wanting to do this for?” he asks.
“y-you have?” you reply, genuinely shocked by him saying that to you. and stuttering because fuck was he playing with you so well and teasing the crap out of you.
“so much.” he said, “making you cum all over my fingers.. and my cock. is that bad to say?” you shake your head at him, biting your lip and closing your eyes. you hear everything he is saying but he’s ranting and blabbering to you while hes playing with your pussy and it’s making you go feral.
“mattty, put your fingers inside me already.” you manage to get those words out of your mouth. matt licks his lips watching you desperately beg for him. he does what you ask, lifting his finger up and sucking them to create almost a lube around his fingers. as if how wet you were wasn’t enough, to him it was but he just wanted an excuse to taste you a little.
he brings them back down, rubbing your clit just a little more before he inserts two fingers into your pussy. you don’t stop yourself from moaning his name softly.
he went a slow and steady pace for a little to ease you. it felt too good. you’ve been fingered numerous times by multiple men but nothing compared to how he was doing it and he barely has showed his skills yet.
you kept whimpering out to him, and his dick was just growing more and more with every pump he did with his fingers inside your pussy. “daddy, i.” you tried to finish your sentence.
matt starts to increase his speed, and twirling his fingers upwards hitting the spot that made you go absolutely crazy. “call me fucking daddy again and i’ll have to fuck you right now on this couch.” he huffs.
“matt, p-please keep going.” you beg, your arm holding onto his arm that is fingering you at the most perfect speed.
“no, stop. go back and call me daddy.” he says.
“but y-you.. you just said?” you reply. he slowly takes his fingers out of you and that’s when you almost whine out from the built up orgasm now completely erasing.
“fuck this. come with me. i can’t wait any longer.” he says. he gets up from the couch, almost yanking your arm off as he eagerly grabs you to follow him.
your hands are intertwined as he leads you back into the house. no one even watching you guys because they are so caught up in their own conversations or make out sessions.
he takes you upstairs, finding an empty bedroom and slamming the door shut. he locked it behind him. you stand there watching him lock the door before he turns around staring at you with such hungry eyes.
“get on the bed.” he demands. you walk towards the bed, but his hands are gripping your waist tightly almost as he was assisting you to lay on the bed.
you lay on your back, him right under you leaning down by your thighs. he brushes his hands up your thighs, taking off your skirt fully. “this fucking skirt.. swear it was teasing me the whole night.” he mumbles, “right when i saw you walk up to us with it, it got me so horny i swear.”
he then slides your red thong off, sliding it down your legs and throwing it across the room. he didn’t break eye contact with the lower half of your body, basically drooling at the sight.
he’s been waiting for this moment for years. thinking about what you would look like under all the clothes you wear, and you lived up to his fantasies and expectations.
“i need to give you hickies.” he blurts, looking up at you from below. you look down and give a slight nod of consent. he goes straight to burying his head to your thighs and giving them sloppy kisses and bites.
he makes his way right above your pussy, sucking on your delicate skin resulting in your blood vesels to freak out and create the hickies he was dying to give you. it was so attractive, looking down and seeing how into it he was.
“i love that i’m giving you hickies in places only i can see.” he whispers in between each kiss and suck, “you’re not fucking anyone else anymore.”
you look up to the ceiling, overstimulated with praise and pleasure. “you hear me? you’re not allowed to do this with anyone else. just me.” you still don’t respond and that makes him suck on your skin just a little more creating good pain throughout your body.
“y-yes daddy.” you moan, “just you.”
he looks up at your thighs and right above your pussy, seeing how much he marked you and how much he loved it. he knew you were his. and he was yours.
“good baby.” he replies, “as much as i want to do this all night long, i really need to fuck you already.” you don’t reply and just nod at him. he hovers over you, lifting your tanktop up to expose your bare chest and he licks his lips at the dream sight.
“i-, can you get any sexier baby, holy fuck?” he says, and you blush. it was crazy how much effect he was having over you tonight.
“… you know i think your fucking beautiful it blows my mind, and you don’t even realize.”
you wanted to reply, but you honestly just wanted him to fuck the shit out of you already. you haven’t gotten with a guy in months and even though you never really thought of having sex with your best friend before, it was all you were thinking about now. and you know.. it wasn’t just the marijuana anymore. you were just seeing him in a different light and you loved it.
“please daddy.” you spat. he shakes his head, trying to bring back his dominant side because fuck did you make his soft side come out it made him almost ill. he never was like that towards anyone but you.
he stands up a little while he’s in front of you, lifting his shirt off. he unravels his belt with speed, and pulling down his pants. he was in nothing but his boxers now. you can finally see how hard he was and it was driving you physically and mentally insane.
he brings his boxers down, revealing his cock and you audibly gasp at the size. sure.. he had big dick energy but you would’ve never guessed that he was going to be the biggest you have seen.
you get even more wet if that’s possible just seeing matt naked in front of you. matt’s heart was basically beating out of his chest. his view was you naked laying on the bed just for him.
“no condom?” you askwhile he gets by the foot of the bed.
“i want to fuck you raw so badly.” he says, “but up to you.”
“no.. i want you to really feel me while you’re inside me.” you mutter. he gulps, he thought that was the hottest thing you could respond with.
“baby..” he whispers, now hovering over you. your both staring in each others eyes
“ya?” you say, he is completely on top of you and his hair is dangling over your face.
“nothing.. i just can’t believe this is happening.” he said softly. it made your heart and pussy flutter.
he leans down to kiss you.. and you didn’t even realize this was the first time your lips have ever touched each other. it was like your lips molded perfectly together because it felt amazing to kiss him. he slips his tongue in your mouth and you moan in response. he bites your bottom lip before he pulls away.
god did he love kissing you.
he looks down at the bottom half of both your bodies and aligns his hard cock to your heat. he teases you just a bit, rubbing his tip on your pussy before slowly slipping himself in you. he looks up, wanting to see your reaction.
it was so big and you felt yourself stretch for him to adjust to his thickness. his eyes roll in the back of his head, trying to contain how tight your pussy was and how amazing it felt.
you guys moan in unison, “fuck your pussy feels so good around daddy’s cock.” he whines out. he starts to lift his hips up and down, gradually going faster and ending up slamming his cock into you at the speed you have been craving.
all you could hear was fainted music from downstairs, your moans combining together, and skin slapping each other. he tries to act like he’s not obsessed with how your pussy feels with every pump he does going in you, but you can tell he was addicted to it already.
his mouth never closing, keeping his body up with his arms on each side of you. “i love you, you know that?” he groans. he keeps thrusting himself into you, you overly enjoying every second.
you don’t respond, just moaning out loud. thats when he takes his right hand and wraps it around your throat, still fucking you at perfect speed. this turned you on even more than you were, as he chokes you and firms his grip strongly.
“tell daddy you love him.” he chokes out, you try to respond but him choking you was making you not spill out the words you wanted to say. “say it.”
“i-i love you too.” that’s when he releases his hand from your neck and you let out a gasp of air. he slaps your cheek, not too hard but the perfect playful way that made you crave him even more than you were already.
he now leans down to kiss you, his sweaty strands of hair brushing on your forehead as you kiss him back. “this pussy.” he cries out, “i love that its mine, i love that your mine.” he says in between kisses.
“needed it so badly.” he whined as he went back to choking you. “i need you to let me fuck you for the rest of my life.” he tried to contain his dominancy but he was so whipped for you and you deep down craved every second of it.
he leans to give numerous kisses all over your neck to your face, finally reaching your lips again.
he looks down at your body again, watching himself fuck you. he moves his arm down and pressing his fingertips onto your stomach, pushing down stirnly. this created the outright most perfect pressure and you felt your insides go absolutely insane at every movement he did.
“i-i, baby i’m so close. right there please.” you plea, “keep fucking me like that, y-you’re about to make me cum.”
after you say that, he does exactly as you beg and keeps fucking you the way he was doing before, keeping his rhythm. his back muscles flexing every time he goes down to slap his clock into you.
this makes you want to wrap your legs around him, to make him locked in within you. he loves that you wanted him more than he was already doing it, craving it as much as he was.
“i’m trying so hard to keep going baby.” he groans out, “holy fuck..” he keeps fucking you so good, your eyes rolling back to your head as his cock slips in and out of you just right every time.
“i want to cum in you but i know i c-can’t.” he grunts. you bite his arm that’s right next to you, trying to keep calm but you just couldn’t. you wanted him to cum in you so badly but you you weren’t on anything and it was too risky.
“i know, me too. just pull out and cum on my tits baby.” you reply. he nods at you, understanding the circumstances.
he feels your walls clench and tighten around his cock, and that’s what makes him go over the edge. he waits til you fully finish, “oh my god, fuck fuck.” you cry out as the most overwhelming orgasm of your life just arrived. just your moans and your pussy clenching around him made him lose it fully.
he couldn’t keep any longer and pulls his cock out and gives it a couple pumps until his cum goes all over your tits and your stomach.
swears and moans coming out of his lips while he finally finishes. you know it wasn’t the same as him filling up inside you but you still loved his cum all over your body.
you both pant and try to catch your breaths from how steamy the sex you two just had. he leans down one more time to kiss you and run his hands through the hair on the top of your head.
“my baby..” he whispers. you thought to yourself how hot he looked, red sweaty face and hooded blue eyes, “are we going to have to keep this a secret? because i don’t think i can do that.” he adds
he grabs you a clean rag from the nightstand that he found and wipes you clean. “absolutely not. no secrets” you say.
he smiled at you and kissed you again.
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─── aid speaks ᝰ.ᐟ ──
╰┈ ⌞₊˚ est. jan 21 2024🗒 ˎˊ˗ ⌝
❚ helpp holy fuck no bc i kinda ate that, hopefully… here are some tags of ppl i absolutely love. i hope u guys enjoyed. sorry for typos.. was too lazy to go over half of it $ !
@mattslolita @gamermattsgf @m4ttslvr @stramboli4life @astrolynnworld @plasticferal @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @4sturns @imwetforyourmom @mattshands @mattsbratt
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 months
Text
Sex pollen!Bucky Barnes one shot
What a weird night.  Another mission blowing up an old Hydra base, ransacking it for information before the explosion.  You and Bucky had been scouring emptied shelves and desks.  All computers and hard drives had already been wiped clean.  As you explored you found a lone flower in a pot, sitting in the middle of an exam table in an abandoned lab.  
“What is this?” you wondered out loud, walking closer to the flower but not daring to touch it.  It looked otherworldly, a color that you could only describe as indigo with iridescent anthers that seemed to glow as you came closer.  You took a picture and sent it to headquarters.  A video call quickly came back within seconds of you sending the picture.
“Hey Shuri, what am I looking at?” you asked.
“DON’T TOUCH IT!  GET AWAY FROM IT!” she yelled, her eyes bulging through the screen.  You quickly stepped back, staring at it in fear.
“What the hell is going on?  What is it?” 
“We don’t have a name for it here on earth, the only way I can describe it is an alien aphrodisiac.  The anthers on it will shoot out a dust that will make the one who breathes it extremely aroused to the point that if they don’t…copulate quickly it could cause dangerously high heart palpitations, abdominal pain, even psychotic breaks.  It can severely hurt or even kill you.”
“An alien aphrodisiac?” you asked dumbly, staring at the flower again.  It was beautiful, and you could feel a strange pull to go up to it and desire to touch it.  Thankfully you had some sense of self-preservation.  “Okay, what do we do with it?”
“Just get out of there and blow the place.  The explosion should be enough to kill the plant.  I don’t know how Hydra was able to get one, but there’s a reason they left it behind.”
“Jesus, okay, we’re on it.  I’ll report back soon,” you ended the call then tried to get hold of Bucky.  “Buck, can you hear me?” you said, hitting the earbud in your ear.  Nothing.  You left the room, walking down the corridor to another side of the base to try to get a better signal.
“Bucky, do you read me?” you called more loudly.  You heard nothing but static.  “Dammit,” you grumbled.  You tried your phone since you’d been able to get hold of Shuri.  After two rings he answered the video call.
“Hey doll, where are you?” he asked, a strange glowing behind him.  Your eyes widened at the color of the glow. 
“Buck, where are you?”
He turned, showing the lab you were just in.  “This old lab, there’s this weird looking flower in here, we should probably bag it up and bring it in for testing,” he said, reaching a hand out to the flower.
“Bucky NO!” you screamed at your phone, already running back down the corridor.
It was too late.  A large puff of indigo dust poofed from the flower’s anthers, surrounding Bucky and making him cough violently.  By the time you reached the lab he was on his knees, dry heaving as the dust seemed to magically disappear into his skin.  
“Shit,” you swore, running in and pulling him away from the flower.  “We have to get out of here.  Did you set all the charges?”
Bucky was unresponsive, still coughing and holding his stomach as he tripped over his feet as you dragged him out of the room.  You grunted as you pulled him along back down the corridor, his arm hung over your shoulder.  
“Come on Buck, stay with me,” you reached a hand up and grabbed his chin to make him focus on you.  “Did you set the charges?!”
“Yeah,” cough, “yeah I got it,” his arm around your shoulder seemed to tighten as he doubled over in pain, his face getting dangerously close to yours, like he was nuzzling your cheek with his nose.  “What the fuck was that thing?”
“Ugh, I’ll explain once we’re out,” you ignored his close proximity, pulling him through the halls until you finally found the entrance, quickly loading yourselves into the quinjet.  As you placed him into a chair and buckled him in you noticed a sheen of sweat along his hairline.  You gingerly placed a hand on his forehead.  He was burning up.  “Shit,” you swore again.  When you turned away to start the jet Bucky groaned.
“Don’t, don’t leave me,” Bucky begged, his eyes screwed shut.  His metal hand was warping the arm of the chair.
“I’m right here, Buck, just gotta get us in the air,” you placate him, getting the jet moving then turning to him again.  “Where’s the remote for the charges?”
Bucky shifted in his seat, reaching towards his pants pocket but fumbling as his fingers trembled.  You quickly reached down and dipped your hand into his pocket.  Bucky moaned loudly as you touched him so close to his cock, which you just noticed was straining against his pants.  He still had the sense to look embarrassed as your eyes flashed to his face when he moaned, but you pretended like nothing happened as you took the remote and once you were a good distance away detonated the charges.  A loud boom reverberated as you flew away, taking out the base and the alien flower.
As you sank into the other chair and took a breath you called Shuri again.
“Shuri, it’s done, but we have a bit of a problem,” you started when her face showed up on the screen.
“Oh please don’t say what I think you’re going to say,” she pleaded, looking worried.
“Bucky wasn’t with me when I called you, so he didn’t know to stay away from the flower, and by the time I tried calling him there was no reception so I wasn’t able to tell him before he got too close to it.  It blew right in his face and now he’s–”
“Ungh!” Bucky moaned again, his flesh hand palming himself through his pants.  “What is this?  God, it burns everywhere!”
“Oh Bast,” Shuri swore.  “What are his symptoms?”
You stood back up, walking over to Bucky as he writhed in his chair.  “Sweating profusely, high temperature, abdominal pains…hey Buck, open your eyes, look at me,” you directed him.  He quickly responded to your voice, his eyes looking wild as he stared at you.  “Pupils are dilated, and uh, well, some major arousal from what I can see,” you finished quickly, looking away from his debauched gaze.  
“Damn, and it all started immediately upon breathing in the dust?” Shuri asked quickly, her body turned towards a screen that she was typing on.
“Yes, he was choking and dry heaving on it, and it seemed to, I don’t know, seep into his skin?  It was crazy,” you rushed out.  You felt a tug on your shirt, looking down and seeing Bucky’s metal fingers pulling on the hem of your shirt, trying to pull you closer to him.  “And now he’s trying to touch me,” you stated plainly.  
Shuri sighed, turning away from the screen she was looking at.  “There’s nothing else that can help him.  He needs to have sex as soon as possible or else he will get worse and worse until his heart or mind gives out.  And seeing how much his mind has gone through in the last 80 years, you don’t have much time,” she remarked gravely.  “I’m sorry I don’t have any better answers for you.  This is something that we’ve never had to deal with before.”
You sighed, feeling Bucky’s fingers grab onto your thigh and pull you closer to him.  “I get it, Shuri, thanks.  Just…turn off the cameras and speakers for the jet, please?”
Shuri nodded with a pitiful smile on her face.  “You got it, good luck.”
You hung up your phone and set it on the other pilot chair.  You glanced back at Bucky and saw him crying as his metal fingers dug into your thigh.  “Oh Buck, it’s okay,” you sank down onto your knees in front of him, your fingers wiping his tears.  
He sniffed hard.  “No, it’s not.  This isn’t okay.  I didn’t want it like this, this doesn’t give either of us a choice,” he cried, his metal fingers now rubbing the back of your neck.  He didn’t seem to have control over what his hands were doing as his flesh hand pushed harshly against his cock.  “It’s not fair.”
You nodded, “You’re right, it’s not fair, it’s not right.  But I’m not going to let you die.  It’s okay,” you reached your hand up and cupped his cheek again with your palm, which he happily hung his head into.  “You’re my best friend, my mission partner, and I’m not going to lose you to some alien fucking flower.  I want to help you, do you hear me?”
Bucky looked in your eyes deeply, looking for any hesitation.  He didn’t find it.  “Buck, I want to,” you reassured him resolutely.  “I want you.”
That was all he needed to hear.  He ripped the seat buckle off of him and stood quickly, pulling you up harshly from the floor and towards the back of the quinjet where there were a couple of rooms for resting.  He picked the one with the bigger bed and shoved you through the door.  As much as this situation was dire, you were also secretly excited.  The feelings you’d tamped down as a childish crush were now coming full front as you peeled your mission suit off, kicking your boots off to a corner and then helping him get out of all the buckles and straps on his outfit.  Once you were both naked he wasted no time in cupping your face in his hands and kissing you.  The kiss was desperate, his fingers digging into the softness of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours then biting your lower lip.  You gasped and he took his opportunity to stick his tongue in your open mouth, tasting your tongue and swirling it with his.  His hands quickly traveled down your body, feeling his way over each hill and valley of your curves, settling his flesh hand on your breast, tweaking the nipple making you moan, and his metal hand kneading your ass.  Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.  
Bucky picked you up and heaved the both of you onto the mattress, gently seating himself between your legs.  His hard cock was nestled against your stomach, the contact making him rut against you.  He grunted as you bit his lip in return, another thrust against your core making you arch your back.  He slipped his flesh hand between your bodies and felt around your lower lips, feeling the slick already building up.  He moaned at how wet you were for him, using some of that slick on his thumb to bring it to your clit and rub you.  You arched again, your hips thrashing as he flicked your clit and rubbed you harshly.
“Gotta get you ready for me,” he murmured, looking down at you and watching as he dipped two fingers into your pussy while his thumb kept busy on your clit.  The fill of his fingers made you moan loudly, your mouth dropping open and hands digging into the sheets below you.  He pumped his fingers lazily, his thumb doing all the work.  You could feel the orgasm coming embarrassingly quickly, your hips gyrating against his hand.
“Oh god, Buck, I’m gonna cum, ungh,” your breath hitched as he flicked harder.  The snap in your core was sudden, a yelp falling from your lips as you came on his fingers.  He let you ride out the orgasm and the aftershocks, pulling his fingers out gently then bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on your juices.  His eyes rolled back in his head as he licked his fingers clean.  The scene almost made you cum again.
“Fuck, you taste divine, doll,” he growled.  “Next time I’m gonna eat you out and pull as many orgasms from you as I can with my mouth.”
“Next time?” you breathed.
Bucky nodded as he shifted his hips and gripped his cock, lining himself up with your pussy.  “Yeah, next time.  Been wanting you for so long, doll.  Although this isn’t the way I wanted it,” he paused as he pushed in slowly, making you gasp, “I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.  Jesus, you’re tight!”
Your hands gripped his biceps, fingernails digging into his flesh arm.  You tried to relax as he pushed slowly, trying to let you adjust even though you could tell he was struggling to go slow.  The sweat was almost pouring off him now, his pupils dilated so much that his eyes looked almost completely black, his temperature even hotter than before.  You worried that if he didn’t cum soon he’d pass out.  He was trying to be careful, but he didn’t need careful, he needed relief.
“Buck,” you whined, swiveling your hips.  He buckled as you moved, falling to his elbows above you.  “Move, please.  Just use me, honey.  I can take it.”
“No,” Bucky grunted, “I don’t want to use you.  You deserve better.”
“I know, hun, I know, but that’s not what you need right now.  I need you to take me, please,” you ran your fingers through his hair then gripped it harshly, pulling his head up to look at you.  He whimpered at your rough treatment, his eyes widening.  “Fuck me, Bucky.  Fuck me hard.”
His eyes seemed to glaze over as they narrowed at your words.  His brow furrowed with determination as he moved himself to a different position, holding up your hips and lifting your legs over his hips.  “Yes, doll,” he answered through gritted teeth.  He then thrust into you violently, causing you to scream.  He set a punishing pace, savagely driving himself into you as he chased his high.  All you could do was hold on, your fingers grasping the sheets or his arms.  You could feel the building orgasm in the pit of your pelvis as he hit your g-spot over and over.  As your pussy fluttered around him he suddenly twisted you around, still inside you as he flipped you to your front and rutted into you from behind.  The sound of skin slapping skin and gasping breaths filled the cabin as you moaned, trying to keep your hips up as he drilled you into the mattress.
“Bucky, oh baby, yes!” you cried, tears starting to form in your eyes.  The new position made him reach even further inside you, making you see stars with each thrust.  Your peak kept getting higher and higher until you finally fell, screaming his name as you came around him.  Bucky shuddered as you came, your pussy convulsing around his cock, making him cum with a shout.  He kept thrusting into you as he pumped you full of his cum, mumbling your name repeatedly.  The flower dust had made him so incredibly horny that he kept cumming more than he normally would, making a mess as it overflowed from your pussy to the mattress below.
You both stilled as you calmed down from your highs, more dribbling out of you as you tried to regain your breathing.  Bucky slowly pulled out, a squelching noise coming from your pussy as you both groaned, more cum dripping from your aching hole.  You fell onto the mattress, your legs periodically shaking and arms splayed above your head.  Bucky laid on the mattress next to you, breathing heavily.  
After a few moments you shifted to your side facing Bucky.  His eyes were closed, his mouth open as he breathed, his hair matted to his forehead from all the sweating.  You reached out and moved some of his wet hair from his eyes.  His eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your fingers.  He looked at you with shining eyes, looking thoroughly fucked.  You giggled at him, and he gave you a lopsided smile back.
“You feel better?” you asked slyly.
“Yes,” he chuckled.  “Thank you, doll.  I’m sorry I put you in this position,” he started, moving to his side to face you as well.
“Buck, it’s okay–”
“Will you go out with me?” he asked hurriedly.  You blinked as your mind caught up to what he said.  He watched you carefully as you processed what was happening.
“Yeah,” you smiled softly, closing the distance between you and kissing his cheek.  It was very innocent considering you were both still naked.  He smiled and took your free hand in his, giving your fingers a squeeze then bringing them to his lips and gave them a kiss.  
“I know it’s too early, but um, I love you,” he confessed.  “I’ve loved you for a long time.”
Your smile widened, your hand squeezing his hand back.  “I love you, too, Buck.  Probably too much.”
Bucky recoiled, “What do you mean too much?  How could you love this,” he gestured to his body, “too much?”
You doubled over in laughter, slapping his chest as you straightened out after a minute.  “You’ve been hanging out with Sam too much,” you laughed, wiping your eyes.
He laughed along with you, grimacing at the sound of Sam’s name.  “Please don’t say Sam’s name while you’re naked in bed with me.  It just doesn’t feel right.”
You laughed again, this time trying to stifle it behind your hand.  “Okay, I’m sorry…Barnes,” you teased him.  His eyes narrowed at you.  “Or should I call you James?”  he minutely shook his head.  “Okay, how about…Sergeant?”  His eyes widened.  “Oooh, did I find a kink?” you giggled.  “How about, sir?”
Bucky pounced on you, encircling you in his arms and tickling your sides.  You squirmed against him as you screamed his name.
“That’s right, doll, that’s what I want to hear.  You screaming my name,” he growled in your ear as he let up on the tickling.  “Just Bucky is fine.”
“Haha, okay, okay…Bucky,” you said his name sensually.
Bucky moaned, rolling his eyes.  “Don’t start, or else we’re never leaving this cabin.”
“Who said I was ready to leave?” you teased him again, your fingers scratching down his chest.  His hips jutted forward as you flicked his nipples lightly.
“Okay, you asked for it,” he warned.  
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moonlinos · 14 days
Text
It’s so tasty, come and chase me ♡ Hyunjin
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♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of food
♡ Word count: 2.3k
♡ Synopsis: It’s your first birthday with Hyunjin as your boyfriend, and he wants to give you the best day since you were born. He racks his brain, wondering what’s the perfect way to impress you, and ultimately settles on surprising you with a homemade birthday cake. That’s romantic, right? Too bad you accidentally ruin his plans in the best way possible.
♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon (happy birthday! 🩷) Title from Red Velvet’s Ice Cream Cake bc we all know that song ain’t about cake. I quickly wrote this to try and get out of my writing slump, and I think it worked lol so I’ll hopefully be able to start posting other longer stories and requests in a couple of weeks 🧚‍♀️
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You and Hyunjin began dating exactly two hours after your birthday.
Being acquaintances for long due to being in the same friend group, he’d been a part of your birthday celebrations for a few years. But you were never really that close — he’d always been too shy to approach you, and you spent an awfully long time thinking he hated your guts. It was a drunken confession that made you both realize the mutual crush you had been hiding for far too long.
Hyunjin cursed himself inwardly for taking so long to properly ask you out. He sat with your friends and discussed birthday plans with you, then watched as you enjoyed your surprise party. He had a pout on his lips throughout the entire night, desperately wishing he could openly hold and kiss you in front of your friends. The silly secret you both had decided to keep from them until things were official between you drove him to the brink of insanity. You two were skirting around the big question for a while, and it wasn’t until Hyunjin’s veins were flowing with quite a lot of Soju that he finally mustered up the courage to do it.
Only he was too late — it was already 2 a.m, and no longer your birthday.
“You’ll have to put up with me for another year if you really wanna be my boyfriend on my birthday,” you told him with a grin.
Hyunjin was determined to make your first birthday together as a couple unforgettable, even through simple gestures. These two days were incredibly meaningful to him; the day you were born and the day he finally got to call you his, one after the other.
Too bad the universe seems to love conspiring against him.
He put on his best near-death voice and faked coughs over the phone, trying to convince you he was sick. You were understandably worried, but he assured you he would be fine after taking some medicine. He needed alone time to figure out how to bake a cake, and your presence would be a tempting distraction.
Hyunjin was halfway through frosting your cake for the third time when the sound of his door being unlocked made him jump.
Perhaps it wasn’t the universe’s animosity towards him after all, but rather his own stupidity for not remembering that you had the code to his door lock.
He stood there motionless, feeling like a teenager who had been caught doing something wrong, his hand clutching the spatula tightly as you eyed him with confusion. You raised a brow at him.
“Weren’t you dying?”
“Why are you here?” Hyunjin all but whines, and you close the door behind you with a chuckle.
“I’m here because you told me you were dying,” you explain. “Why the fuck are you frosting a cake?” He doesn’t answer, and after a beat and a half, you grasp the situation and your mouth falls open. “It’s for my birthday, isn’t it?”
Hyunjin drops the spatula on the counter with a loud clink. “No.”
“Shut the fuck up.” You grin at the sight before you. “That’s so cute.”
“It’s not for your birthday,” He insists, promptly removing his apron. “I lost a bet and owe Seungmin a cake.”
You roll your eyes. “Hyunjin, you’re a terrible liar.”
“Fine,” He grumbles, glaring at the lumpy, messy frosting spread on the cake. He was so sure he was nailing it this time, but the more he looks at it, the more it looks borderline inedible. “I wanted to surprise you, be like super boyfriend material and bake your birthday cake myself. Turns out I’m fucking awful at it.”
“It’s not that bad…” Your voice trails off, the telltale rise in pitch whenever you lie betraying you. Hyunjin shoots you a glance, narrowing his eyes. “Okay, so it is a little crooked, and the frosting is a bit clumpy but I can fix that—”
He cuts you off, drawing out your name with a pout. “No, I’m the one who’s supposed to make you a pretty cake. It’s your special day, I should be the one doing things for you.”
“It’s not my birthday till midnight,” you argue, tossing your bag onto the floor and gently nudging Hyunjin to the side, making room for you on his counter. “Let me help.”
You take the spatula in your hands, ignoring Hyunjin’s loud protests and trying your best to smooth out the thick layer of frosting Hyunjin had spread onto the cake. Your brows knit together in concentration as your boyfriend continues to grumble beside you, eventually moving his nagging to the counter behind you. You hear the water running and the clinking of dishes as you finally start making progress, before Hyunjin’s hands are gripping your hips and pushing you against the counter.
You furrow your brows, ready to complain about him disrupting you, but he’s pressing his lips to your neck before you can mutter out a word. Hyunjin’s breath as he mumbles against your skin tickles you, your body instinctively jolting, causing your hand to slip and mess up the frosting (again).
“Hyunjin,” you berate him, and his only response is to hum. “This frosting is already borderline unusable, if you—”
“Hey!” He snaps, and you can hear the pout on his voice. “Don’t insult my frosting.”
“Then stop disrupting me.”
Hyunjin shakes his head, his body pressing against yours.
“You’re the one who ruined my surprise,” he corrects you, “So if you wanna decorate this cake so badly, you’ll have to do it while I disrupt you,” he mimics your voice. You roll your eyes while a huff of amusement slips from your lips.
“Be my guest,” you shrug.
Hyunjin simply buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips curling into a grin against your skin and igniting a smile on your own face. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning your focus back to the disastrous cake. But your smile only widens at the sight of the decorations thrown around on the countertop; heart-shaped sprinkles, various candles and your favorite candies. The image of Hyunjin clumsily following a recipe, his pretty face dusted in flour, making frosting from scratch simply to make your birthday cake more special has your heart swelling with love.
But just as you spread more frosting on the cake, your concentration is shattered by the sudden touch of Hyunjin’s hand sliding under your skirt and into your panties.
“Excuse me?”
“I told you I was gonna disrupt you,” he shrugs, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m sure it won’t work. You’re too focused on the cake, anyway.”
You scoff. Hyunjin really is such a menace when he wants to be — no wonder you spent such a long time thinking he hated you. Little did you know that behind his teasing and cold exterior lay such a sweet and sensitive man.
He remained still for a while, his hand nonchalantly cupping your cunt while he watched you try your best to make the cake look presentable.
“You missed a spot,” he points out, one single finger gliding along your folds. You hiss.
“Fuck off.”
Hyunjin chuckles, the digit now teasing your already slick entrance. You wait for a minute, then two, then three, but he remains still. Tightening your hold on the spatula, you buck your hips toward his hand, willing him to do something.
But he doesn’t, resting his chin on your shoulder with a lazy sigh instead.
“Is this your best attempt at disrupting me?”
He hums. “Focus on the cake, baby. Weren’t you so excited about fixing it?”
You can tell he is undoubtedly a bit upset at you. This cake was his birthday surprise to you, after all. You had essentially fucked it up, taking over the task without him even asking you for help.
So you nod slowly, turning your face to shoot him a small smile. “Can you help me? It’ll be better if we do it together.”
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and his finger finally pushes into you, your walls immediately clenching around it.
“I’d love to help you.”
With his other hand, Hyunjin scrambles with the sprinkles packet before finally tearing it open. Cursing under his breath, he watches some of the red and pink hearts escape from the packaging and scatter across the counter. You’re ready to tease him, but a moan swallows your voice as his finger curls inside you, pressing against the spot that has you almost dropping the spatula onto the cake.
Your hands grip the counter as another finger slips inside of you, then a third, all while Hyunjin casually dusts a handful of sprinkles over the white frosting. You could feel yourself leaking around his fingers, the heel of his palm grazing over your clit, and your vision goes slightly blurry watching how the heart shapes cascade from his hand onto the cake.
“I think those candies would look nice with the sprinkles, don’t you think?” Hyunjin asks, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple across your entire body. You simply nod, too focused on the way his fingers stretch you, igniting a wildfire inside your chest with each pump of his wrist. “Could you grab the bag for me, baby?”
You nod and mindlessly reach out in front of you, until your eyes land on the bag sitting across the counter, just barely out of reach. You stretch out your fingers, but Hyunjin circles your waist with his left arm and pulls you flush against his body before you can get a hold of it.
“Hyunjin,” you whine, feeling the warmth of his chest as it rumbles against your back with a chuckle.
“Grab the bag for me, hm?”
You let out a shuddering breath and reach out toward the candy package, your body bending over the marble counter, the thick outline of Hyunjin’s cock pressing against your ass. As soon as your trembling fingers wrap around the bag, his hand leaves your cunt and pushes your soaked panties to the side.
He slides his length along your folds, hovering over your body, the swollen head of his cock catching against your clit evoking a heavy sigh from your lips.
“Go on,” Hyunjin prompts, “Let’s finish decorating your cake.”
Clumsily, you pull yourself up, forearms resting against the counter as you tear the bag open. With shaky hands, you slowly tip the bag over, lightly sprinkling the colorful candies across the cake. Until Hyunjin rolls his hips forward, plunging into you. Your breath catches in your throat as he fills you with his thick length, pumping into you in full force, causing your body to writhe in his arms and sending candies flying out of the bag, scattering across the cake and countertop.
“Fuck, Hyunjin,” you grunt when his hand slides down your body to trace circles around your swollen clit. “The ca- the fucking cake.”
Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh before pressing his lips to your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth, each thrust of his hips slamming your body against the counter. Your eyes flutter closed, a haze of lust wrapping around you while your climax ripples through your body. Hyunjin shudders as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing as he hastily rams into you, his grip on your waist tightening with each stroke.
“Gonna come,” he rasps in your ear, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back to look at him, his eyes completely clouded over. “Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” you whimper, barely registering the way your fingers graze across the forgotten cake when you feel his cock twitch at your words. He mutters a string of curses through clenched teeth before flooding you with his warmth.
You slowly catch your breaths, Hyunjin pressing light kisses across your face with a contented hum as his cock slowly softens inside of you.
And then both your eyes land on the cake.
Somehow, the sprinkles melted, leaving behind a garish kaleidoscope of colors, and the candies adorned more of Hyunjin’s counter than the cake itself. The already sloppy-looking cake had three lines running across it, and the sticky white frosting clinging to your fingertips serves as undeniable evidence of your guilt. You grimace, mentally bracing yourself for the disappointed look in Hyunjin’s eyes.
Instead, his loud laughter you love so much echoes in your ears.
“That’s so fucking ugly,” he slurs between giggles.
You frown, turning to look at him, watching tears gather in his lashes as his laughter slowly fades away. He presses a kiss to your agape lips, wrapping both arms around your body before resting his forehead against yours.
“I love it,” he assures you after taking in your befuddled expression. “We made it together. Plus, we had a lot of fun doing it, yeah?” He grins before crashing his lips against yours again.
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Your birthday party was the same as it has been for a couple of years; just you and your friend group gathered around your apartment’s rooftop. Except this year, you had the pleasure of watching people’s bewildered looks as they glanced at your birthday cake, proudly displayed on a plastic folding table.
“The fuck is that cake?” Jeongin asked, and Hyunjin burst out laughing as soon as the words left your friend’s lips.
After singing happy birthday, you were surprised to find that the cake — although an assault on the eyes — tasted quite good. You were quick to praise Hyunjin, who sheepishly admitted to using a store-bought box cake mix.
A while later, you two discreetly escaped the chatter and laughter from your friends. While you watched the stars, Hyunjin’s attention was fixated on the passing seconds on his phone. He counted down from five, and at the stroke of midnight, he pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss.
“Happy one year together,” he whispered against your lips.
“Congratulations for putting up with me,” you beamed, and Hyunjin feigned an exasperated sigh, his lips curling into a grin.
“Can’t believe I’ll have to go through that again if I want to be your boyfriend on your birthday next year.”
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♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme
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saetoshi · 11 months
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sae is bad with timezones.
whenever he goes on a trip because of football he always forgets he’s not in your timezone.
it’s why you’ve woken up in the middle of the night to your phone ringing right next to your pillow, his name lighting up the screen.
“hey.” his voice is almost enough to make you smile. (almost. you’re still too sleepy.)
you stifle a yawn, “hi.”
“hi.” you can practically feel his smile.
a sleepy huff of laughter slips past your lips, “you already said that.”
“i know,” he sounds a little breathless, you note, “i just like greeting you.”
a smile blooms on your lips when he says that, your heart skipping a beat. you hide your face in your pillow, shying away as if he could see you.
you turn your attention to your phone when you faintly hear him plop down on his bed with a groan.
“you would not believe the morning i had,” he huffs.
“was it bad?” you bite back a yawn, stretching out on the bed.
you frown when he lets out a deep sigh, “it was worse than i would’ve liked.”
“i couldn’t get coffee because there was this huge line at this café i like, so i barely had any energy to do anything,” a fond smile tugs at your lips when you picture the pout on his lips.
your brows knit in confusion. “i thought your manager got your coffee?”
a dry laugh leaves sae’s lips, “here’s where my morning gets worse. he was busy because i had an interview.”
your face scrunches up, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “yikes.”
“yikes.” sae echoes back, laughing. “i think you can imagine how that went.”
“yeah,” you sleepily laugh, “i feel bad for the poor people who had to interview you.”
“hey!” a drowsy smile tugs at your lips when you hear the mock offense in his voice.
you yawn, “so your interview just ended?”
he hums, “i came back to the hotel as soon as i could.”
“really?” your eyes start to droop.
“yeah,” you can hear his smile, “i wanted to hear your voice.”
your face flushes. you reach out to grab sae’s pillow and hold it close to your chest, hiding your face in it.
“shut up,” you mutter. your eyes flutter closed, a yawn slips past your lips.
he laughs, “how was your morning?”
sae frowns when you don’t reply.
your eyes snap open when he calls out your name. “yeah?”
there’s a pause. you frown in sleepy confusion, “sae?”
“i woke you up again, didn’t i?” his voice comes out soft, almost as if he feels guilty for having woken you up again.
(again, because he’s not used to not being in your timezone. again, because the fact that you’re miles away and not a train ride away always slips his mind.)
you sheepishly laugh, “you did.”
your heart swells with fondness when you picture his face flushing in embarrassment.
“sorry,” he awkwardly coughs.
“it’s fine.” you whisper, a teasing smile lifting the corners of your lips, “i wanted to hear your voice, too.”
you bury your face into sae’s pillow, laughing when sae mutters a soft and very bashful, ‘shut up.’
a yawn slips past your lips and you nuzzle into sae’s pillow, a small smile on your face when you note his lingering scent.
“you should go to sleep.”
you let out a confused hum, tilting your head to the side.
a huff of amused laughter leaves sae’s lips, “you should go back to sleep.”
“i don’t wanna leave you alone, though.” you pout.
“and i don’t wanna keep you up any longer,” he hums.
you frown, yawning. “i can stay up a little longer.”
“i’d rather you didn’t,” he sounds reluctant. like he doesn’t want you to leave. (you really wish he was next to you right now.)
“i miss you.” your voice is laced with longing, sae’s pillow scrunched up against your frame as you clutch it tighter to you in a poor attempt to pretend it’s actually sae.
“i miss you too.” sae’s voice is barely above a whisper. you wonder if he’s also holding on to a pillow, pretending it’s you.
“i wish you’d come home now.” you mumble, eyes drooping as sleep tightens its grip around you.
you can feel sae’s smile through the phone, “me too.”
there’s a small pause before sae speaks again. “seriously, though, go sleep.”
you frown, “are you kicking me out already?”
“i don’t want to,” he laughs, “but i’d hate for you to not get enough sleep because of me.”
“you’ll miss me, though,” you pout. (he doesn’t say it, but you’re right. he will miss you. even if he knows you’ll call him as soon as you wake up.)
“go sleep,” he insists, “i’ll be here when you wake up.”
you try to stifle yawn, “can you stay until i fall asleep?”
your eyes flutter closed, a content smile on your lips when you hear him hum.
“i can even stay until you wake up again.” he teases.
“would you really?” your voice is laced with sleep.
you don’t see it, but there’s a big grin on sae’s face. “yeah.”
so he does.
(and he doesn’t mention it, but he’ll stay with you for as long as you let him.)
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lihhelsing · 6 months
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“Hey!”
The next customer has chocolate brown eyes and long curly hair. He’s kind of cute, Steve thinks. 
“Hi! What can I get started for you?” 
The guy looks at him expectantly and Steve is a little confused but he keeps his smile plastered and waits. The order will come in time.
After a long minute, the guy’s smile falls a bit but he ends up asking for a black espresso. 
“You got it. What’s the name?” 
Now it looks like Steve just offended the guy. He tries to think if this is someone who has been to the shop before but Steve knows for a fact he’d remember him.
The guy coughs to cover his shock and murmurs “Eddie,” before walking away without looking at Steve again. 
Eddie, he thinks. It doesn’t ring any bells and the guy definitely stands out. Steve would've noticed him, for sure.
Steve feels bad anyway. The guy wasn’t flirting, he just said ‘hey’, but he wasn’t not flirting either. 
Was Steve that oblivious? 
There’s no line in the shop right now, so he decides to make Eddie’s coffee himself.
When he calls his name he slides a chocolate muffin, too.
“I didn’t order that,” Eddie says, not looking at Steve. 
“Oh, it’s on the house! Just enjoy.” 
Eddie frowns at him as if he can’t quite understand Steve. He huffs out a breath and picks up his things before walking away. 
Steve clicks his tongue. Maybe he’s just having a bad day.
The thing is, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie now. He sits there and eats his muffin alone. He checks his phone a few times and even types on it but seems frustrated after a while. 
Steve wonders if he got stood up on a date or something.
It wouldn’t be the first time. A lot of people usually come for first dates at the shop. Steve finds it cute and he usually tries to help when he can. Offers something sweet as a treat for them to share or something. 
But lately he’s been seeing a lot of people getting stood up
It makes him a little sad, to be honest. People will sit there for forty or fifty minutes before shyly getting up and walking away, their coffees cold and just half drunk. 
Eddie seems to be another victim of that. He picks at his muffin and sips his coffee.
Steve has to fight the urge to say anything. What would he even say? He doesn’t even know who Eddie was waiting for although he does seem the type to date guys. 
Maybe he could drop a cup with his number on it. It worked before, it could work again.
Before he can change his mind, Steve does exactly that. He walks around the counter and clear some tables before making his way to where Eddie is sitting. 
He smiles, “are you all done?”
Eddie looks up at him and blushes furiously. It’s cute. 
“Uh… yeah, thanks.”
Steve grabs the trash and drops the cup with his number written on it. 
“It’s on the house, too.” 
Steve winks. Hope it wasn’t too cringe and walks away before Eddie can react. He can do whatever but Steve would be really sad if he just ignored his number.
After a few minutes, Eddie walks back to the counter. He looks at Steve with a frown again. Steve kind of wants to run his fingers on it to smooth it down. 
“What’s your damage?” Eddie asks out of nowhere. Steve frowns.
Had he read it all wrong? Had he offended Eddie somehow??
He didn’t look like a homophobe but then again Steve had been wrong before about that. 
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just-“ 
Eddie scoffs “didn’t mean to offend…? That’s really funny. You’re a funny guy, Steve.” 
Steve is so confused now. He’s pretty sure he didn’t say his name to Eddie. 
“I’m… sorry? I’m a little confused.”
“Well, that makes two of us.” 
“Eddie, I’m not sure-“
“You’re not sure? I’m not sure about you. You act all weird like you don’t know me and then you try to give me a fake number?”
“I… I don’t know you! And it’s not a fake number, it’s my real number. I don’t know what…” 
“Yeah? Well, let’s see.” 
Eddie picks his phone and dials the number Steve gave him. 
Steve is confused but he raises his phone and shows it when Eddie’s number flashes on the screen
“See? Real number,” Steve shrugs. 
Eddie looks surprised. 
“So what’s this number?” 
Eddie shows him his phone and there it is, Steve’s picture on a contact of a number he doesn’t recognize. He instantly feels bad for the guy. He’s been catfished.
“Oh… I’m sorry, that’s not me. I think someone was messing with you.” 
Eddie gets bright red again. He pulls his phone back as if he’s been burned. 
He mutters something that sounds like an apology and darts out of the door before Steve can stop him.
He feels sorry for the guy.
Someone clearly wanted to embarrass him if they sent him to Steve’s real workplace. 
As much as his brain wants to linger on Eddie, his thoughts get interrupted by the evening rush of people in the coffee shop. Robin will be in soon but until then Steve has to manage it by himself and Eddie slips his mind.
Next Part
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navybrat817 · 5 months
Note
How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺
I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂
Sick Day
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.
Word Count: Over 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ 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!
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When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.
You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.
Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.
“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.
“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”
You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.
He had nothing to worry about though.
“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.
Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.
A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.
“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”
You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”
“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.
“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”
Why is he getting himself worked up?
“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”
It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.
“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”
“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”
“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.
He didn’t need your tears on top of that.
But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”
God, I love this man.
“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.
Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.
“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”
Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.
“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”
“We'll watch whatever you want.”
You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.
“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”
“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”
You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”
With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”
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You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.
Which was exactly why he called you down there.
“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”
“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.
You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.
“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”
You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”
He also had a cold.
Oh, no.
“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.
“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”
Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.
“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”
Oh, Bucky.
You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.
“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”
Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.
Maybe both.
But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.
When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.
“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”
You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.
And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.
“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”
“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.
Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.
Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.
Oops.
“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”
“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.
Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.
You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”
He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.
“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”
Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”
True.
“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”
Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.
And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.
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Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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mitsies · 1 year
Text
-;, the worst ! ; michael kaiser > in which, you discover your boyfriend wears glasses.
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“‘michael kaiser’s forehead is so big that you could play multiple games of hangman on it.’”
you’re seated on the couch of your boyfriend’s apartment, scrolling aimlessly through various social media as he trekked the length of the living room behind you. it was a lazy sunday, the kind that was meant to be spent in the company of those you cherished. at your statement, though, you hear the pacing stop. the only sounds remaining are the raindrops kissing the curtained windows.
“excuse me?” you don’t need to be looking at kaiser to know that he’s glowering at you. 
“that’s not me. it’s a tweet.”
you turn to the back of the couch, which kaiser moves to lean over, and show him the image displayed on the screen of your device. he’s not paying much attention to that, though. “my forehead is not that big.”
“hey, i never said it was!”
“but you basically just agreed.”
“sorry. it’s just the urge to play hangman on your forehead.”
kaiser purses his lips at you. “you.. want to play hangman.. on my forehead?”
he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, though, as he flourishes a dramatic hand in your face and flounces away. “you’re just like the rest of them, only wanting me for my body.”
you laugh, and a grin creeps onto kaiser’s face as he moves to the end table placed next to the couch. you watch as he pulls open the drawer and removes something shiny and golden- a pair of glasses. he slides them onto his face before plopping down on the couch next to you. “show me the tweet, baby?”
he reaches to grab it but you move away, shifting so you’re facing him. “hold on- hold on. what?”
his brow furrows in the way that makes you want to pinch his cheeks. “what do you mean, ‘what?’”
you don’t give him a response, simply placing your phone down by your side and delicately pulling the glasses off his face. it almost hurts, with how pretty he is even when he’s fully confused by your actions. “i didn’t know you had glasses.”
kaiser’s more bemused than confused now as he watches you examine the frames in your hands. “so you were just so surprised by how gorgeous i look, then?”
“yeah.”
kaiser feels his heart implode in his chest.
“it was a welcome change.”
kaiser’s heart is no longer imploding.
with a gusty sigh, he leans into your side. his jaw rests on your shoulder, and you can feel it when he speaks: “you were being so nice to me 20 minutes ago.”
“20 minutes ago i didn’t want to play hangman on your forehead.”
“so you do want to?”
your only response is a giggle that sends his head spinning in the way that only you have ever seemed to do, and it’s worsened when you slide the glasses onto your own face. he’s infinitely grateful that due to your distorted vision, you weren’t able to see the rosy glow on his face.
“how do i look?”
“god, you’re so fucking cute.”
shifting to face you, his hand moves deftly to push the frames farther up onto the bridge of your nose, and he allows it to linger on the curve of your jaw. the skin of his palm ghosts your cheek, and you allow yourself to lean into kaiser’s touch.
“is this why you set the font size on your phone to the biggest setting? you’re just like my grandma.”
your boyfriend practically recoils and you fight the laughter bubbling in your throat. he coughs in a vain attempt to try and regain his composure but you’re burying your head in his chest in a bout of giggles. his hand finds its way to your hair and he cradles you like precious gemstones.
“i’m taking that as a compliment, actually,” he decides, voice quieter than it was before, “your grandma is cool.”
“of course you’d think that. she adores you.”
“she has wonderful taste.”
“quite the opposite, actually. anyone who likes you has horrible, horrible taste.”
your voice is muffled by the fabric of the white sweater which is askew on his shoulder. your breath is warm on his skin.
“what does that say about you then, baby?”
you let out an exhale that makes him laugh, before replying: “i’ve got it the worst, i think. the worst ever.”
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slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months
Text
Y’all ate this Hotch x BAU!reader imagine up 👀 Who am I to deny you more when asked so nicely? 🖤
Things remain strictly professional while the case is ongoing, your team and the Seattle division’s sole focus on catching the unsub. But once your resident bad guy gets his one way ticket to a life sentence, Aaron’s former colleague insists on celebrating over drinks…
“I can’t believe you completed the triathlon!” Agent Brandt exclaims with a laugh, her hand coming to rest on Aaron’s arm. From her spot in the booth opposite to you, JJ nudges your leg under the table. Your gaze cuts to hers, and you resist the urge to mime gagging yourself on your straw. Instead, you use it to suck up the last of your second mojito. There are a few appreciative titters around the table and Brandt soldiers on, “Who would’ve thought our nerdy prosecutor turned agent would do something so athletic?”
“Make no mistake, the nerd is still hiding underneath these muscles,” you chime in with a coy smile, the mix of jealousy and rum swimming in your veins giving you the push to overtly squeeze your husband’s bicep for good measure.
Aaron pointedly clears his throat and directs a frown towards Emily whose cellphone camera has made an appearance just over the lip of the table to no doubt document the scene unfolding for Penelope’s benefit. “All the credit goes to my partner here,” he says rather smoothly before draping his arm across your shoulders.
“Oh wow,” Brandt says through a tight-lipped smile, “you did it, too?”
“Sure did,” you respond cheerily while using your straw to swirl the mint leaves around the bottom of your empty glass. Aaron can hear the mischief building in your tone and he pinches your side half-heartedly in warning, but you quietly smack his hand away and continue, “Gotta stay in shape to fight off all the soccer moms vying for this guy’s attention at Jack’s games.” You allow yourself to relish in the flash of recognition in Brandt’s eyes before she slowly retracts her hand from your husband’s arm.
“Goodness,” she laughs and has the grace to blush at her earlier conduct. You feel a twinge of guilt until Aaron’s former colleague looks at him and says, “I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”
Derek covers up his laugh with a cough, and Emily mouths a delighted uh oh. Aaron turns to you with a silent plea in his eyes to let the comment go, but your lips are already twisting into a, “Me neither, babe.”
“She’s just teasing,” your husband is quick to soothe all parties’ ruffled feathers as his colleague’s blush grows a shade darker and she studiously avoids making eye contact with you. “We’ve been married for a few years now.”
“And what a wonderful few years it’s been seeing the two of you grow together,” the eldest member of your team adds with a sense of finality. You flash a grateful smile at Dave, and the conversation takes on a more lighthearted tone over the next and final round of drinks.
—————
On the jet back home the next day…
Your novel tumbling out of your hands and onto the floor of the jet has you jolting awake, and Aaron shoots upright in his seat across from you. A quick glance around reveals the rest of the team suspiciously engrossed in their respective activities- Derek’s listening to his post-case playlist, Spencer’s reading yet another book that’s above your pay grade, Emily and Dave are sharing sections of the New York Times, and JJ’s on her phone, likely texting Will- but the fact that no one so much as bats an eye at the startling noise tells you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand why you and your husband just can’t seem to stay awake on the early morning flight.
In answer to their unspoken question, you offer, “Didn’t sleep well last night,” by way of an explanation, fighting the blush threatening to creep across your guilty cheeks.
With a click of his teeth, Derek laughs out, “My man,” and Emily pipes up, “We’ll chalk it up to a hangover.”
“Behave, all of you,” Aaron counsels in an utterly non-threatening monotone, his voice still thick with sleep. He doesn’t even bother to open his eyes to scold them, just crosses his hands over his chest and settles back in his seat to get some much needed rest. The corner of his mouth ticks upward for the briefest of moments before his features fall back into their emotionless state.
You tap his ankle with your foot and one eye cracks open to find you smirking at him. “I saw that.”
“Get some sleep, Agent Y/L/N,” he orders in lieu of addressing being caught.
Tugging Aaron’s suit jacket higher up on your body, you dutifully close your eyes and hunker down under your makeshift blanket. Already drifting back off to sleep, you murmur, “That’s Agent Hotchner to you, mister.”
Aaron’s answering smile could rival the sun itself.
—————
[A/N: Idk if I like this 🙃 But then again, I go through these mental gymnastics every time I post my writing on here]
AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner
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Note
Mafia!bucky but he would k!ll 🤭
but rlly… r telling ppl who cross her that “upsetting me upsets my husband, and trust me you don’t wanna do that”
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Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader
Word count: 900.
CW: Fluff, violence, harrasment (by an oc) flashback to smut, protective Bucky.
A/N: Written on my phone.
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In all fairness, you did warn Aaron what would happen if he didn’t back off. Unfortunately he's persistent and doesn't seem to understand the meaning of the word no.
You can’t get much clear that it’s really, really not a good idea to upset you than explaining to the pushy stockbroker that your husband can get a little insane and territorial when it comes to you and your well-being.
You keep the fact that it turns you on to see him feral and possessive to yourself.
Although you’re starting to wonder if you should have mentioned how stabby Bucky can get.
Oh well. 
Aaron doesn’t need to know everything. 
Except for the fact that if he doesn’t get his slimy, disturbingly soft hand off of your knee in the next three seconds, he’s not going to be leaving this party with it still attached to the rest of his body.
“Trust me when I say you need to leave me alone.” Your eyes flick over his shoulder, a wry smirk teasing the corner of your lips. Using two of your fingers, you pry his hand off your leg and place it on his lap. “I’ve already said no twice and I’m not going to repeat myself again.”
Bucky is already going to be livid that you had to say it more than once.
Aaron chuckles, ignoring your clear dismissal, his fingers latch on to your  knee, squeezing painfully while he leans in, the back legs of his barstool rising off the floor as he invades your space.
“C’mon don’t be a frigid bitch. Your little boyfriend doesn’t have to know. I can have you back before he realizes you’re gone.” He glances at his lackluster crotch with a smarmy grin, brow raised arrogantly as if he's shocked you're not on your knees. “Tell me you’re not curious. Everyone wants a piece of me.”
Oh someone's going to get a piece of him tonight but not the way he's expecting.
Your gaze drifts across Bucky’s face, drinking in the way he’s confidently strolling across the marble floor before lingering on his forearms as he slowly rolls up his sleeves unveiling his tattooed skin.
He’s commanding the room without even trying. Ignoring the attempts by the hosts to capture his attention, he focuses on you. Something dark and potent and feral is brewing in the depths of stunning blue eyes ever since he spotted the distressed look on your face.
You recognize the expression on his bearded face instantly, you crave it more than you should.
Untamed. Raw. Power.
Thoughts of the limo ride flash in your head.
Your back pressed into the leather cushion. Large, calloused hands everywhere—your hips, thighs, every curve, every inch of skin branded by his warm touch. His lips on yours, murmuring how much he loves you, how good you are, how good you feel laced between languid, passionate kisses swallowing your frantic moans the second they left your mouth. Stretched and filled and marked by him.
Pleasure surging through your veins like warm cherry whiskey until you couldn’t take another second of it, so sure you would perish if he continued fucking you the way he was.
He claimed so thoroughly that you had to lean on him to conceal your limp as you exited the car and headed up the staircase. You had pointedly ignored his smug grin when his lips caressed your ear to teasingly ask if you were sore, if you needed him to kiss it better since you struggled to walk straight.
Curious about someone else when you can still feel the man you love more than life inside you like he belongs there, when you have his marks sinking into your skin like a tattoo? 
The urge to toss your head back and laugh overwhelms you. Almost giving into it, a giggle slips past your lips, and you play it off with a cough. “Not even a little bit.”
Aaron’s mouth opens but his next words are cut off by Bucky’s hand curving around his throat, yanking him off of his chair in one fluid motion. The stool clatters to floor, echoing loudly in the suddenly quiet room.
“Malyshka,” Bucky calms hums, smiling down at you. Ignoring the spluttering man struggling in his grip, he takes your chin in his other hand, tilting your face up, his finger brushing over your bottom lip. “Are you alright?”
Peering up at him, you smile serenely, basking in his fresh smokey scent. “I am now.”
Bucky doesn't spare the wheezing man a single glance. “How many times did you have to say no?”
You hesitate.
Not because you feel bad for Aaron but because Bucky’s knuckles just finished healing. You rub your thumb over a jagged scar across his middle finger, pushing your chin into his palm. That one took nearly a week.
“Malyshka?” His affronted tone has another burst of laughter crawling up your throat. Only he would get upset at the thought that you might not let him hurt someone for messing with you. Sometimes you swear your man cares more about your comfort than you do.
“Three,” you say, staring at Aaron who groans something in response, you shrug as his face turns an interesting shade of red. You dust off your knee, recalling the way he kept you touching despite you telling him to stop, he was so brash and presumptuous, you know this isn’t his first time harassing a woman. You did warn him and now it’ll be the last. “Be glad he doesn’t know you called me a bitch.”
Bucky’s eyes widen, swinging over to Aaron. This time you do laugh because if looks could kill, he'd be in pieces under your new heels. You stand up, placing a kiss on Bucky’s cheek, his clenched jaw easing a fraction under your touch. “Don’t get any blood on your suit.”
“I’ll try my best.” His warm gaze freezes over the second you begin to walk away to find Steve and his girl. He brings Aaron up to his face and coldly sneers. “Three times, three fingers. Seems like a fair trade for upsetting my queen don’t you think?”
It may be wrong but hearing Bucky’s deep voice calmly threaten him, knowing that your mobster will always protect you makes you ache in ways you didn’t know was possible.
You glance over your shoulder, calling his name. He meets your gaze, the smile back on his face, growing wider when you continue. “Hurry up so you can give me that kiss.”
Understanding flashes in his eyes, melting into fiery lust. “Give me ten minutes and then I'm all yours.”
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messylustt · 10 months
Note
i had this on top of my mind today
imagine ethan with a huge crush on y/n, having all these fantasies on her. once a week they would call each other for econ homework, but that day he's just too horny so he gets off to her voice. y/n is too oblivious, he would be palming himself through his pants. his breath becomes a little too loud and she kind of guess what's happening and takes advantage of it to tease him/make him embarrassed.
this makes me feel things
a little help — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : ethan can’t help but get off to your sweet voice.
male jerking off. teasing. innuendos. ethan has fantasies. wc 2.0k
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Ethan felt slightly embarrassed with how eager he picked up the phone His heart was already beating fast as your sweet voice filled his ears.
"Hey, Ethan!" You smile, placing your assigment and study papers on your bed, as you got yourself settled.
"Hey, y/n." He says, a smile he can never force down appearing on his lips.
"Did you get the new assignement from this morning's lecture?" You ask, as you flip through your pages to find it.
Ethan does the same, putting you on speaker as he placed his phone on the bed. "Yeah...I think so... yes." He says, placing the assignment details ontop of the rest of his work. "Why did Mr. Harold give out papers, instead of just sending it?"
"Ah, he's old, which can sometimes mean old-fashioned, I guess." You say, clicking your pen. "Oh my god, though did you see Sophie?" You chuckle, remembering the way she had tried to flirt with the poor old man, leaning forward as she pushed her breasts together.
"No...Sophie was in today?" Ethan knew of her vaguely as the girl who would fuck for good grades. But his focus had been on you in econ, sparing glances down your body when you weren't looking.
"How could you not notice?" You ask, shifting more comfortably on your bed. "I was scared her tits were gonna fall out."
Ethan stiffened at your words, and not because you had mentioned Sophie's tits, but because the his mind wandered to your own, and how he'd always have to readjust in his seat when you'd wear a tight top. Wondering how they'd feel in his—
"We should get started." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I barely understood Mr. Harold."
"Uh, yeah." Ethan coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What part didn't you get?"
"The third paragraph, where he talks about the inflation and economic growth. His question after confuses me. I'm not sure what he's asking us to answer." You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Ethan furrows his own for an entirely different reason.
For some reason your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants. Christ, not now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, answering your confusion, as you hum with an "ah, that makes makes more sense."
Ethan's mouth has salivated, as all his built up fantasies of you fill his head. "So, when he spoke on analyzing the economy as a system, the list he followed on from..."
Ethan doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much more breathy, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, licking at his cock, as your innocent eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head.
"...he could have meant that these are the elements," you had continued, completely oblivious to Ethan's wandering hand.
He couldnt help it. He palmed his cock, as he listened to you speak. You always spoke so pretty. He could imagine your confused expression as you spoke on your problems. He began to rub himself, restricting himself to just over his pants, as he bit his lip.
He won’t do more. Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy.
His breathing had grown heavier but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions.
“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask. You were there to help each other, not him only help you.
Ethan had to spare a glance at his work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need.
His cock was rock hard, and his mind was beginning to cloud over with lust, and want for you. “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching the button of his jeans, as he pulled the zipper down.
It was shameful, but he just couldn’t help it. “Okay, do you mind if I ask another question?—sorry I just saw it now.” You ask as Ethan absentmindedly nods wanting to hear you speak more, before he manages a ‘sure’, trying to act casual.
“Great, thank you,” and you began to speak on either the 8th or 9th paragraph as Ethan stuck his hand in his pants, feeling his pre-cum practically staining his boxers.
He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you deep throat him immediately. Ethan’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm.
His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Ethan grows lost in your tone as his cock twitches.
“Ethan?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure.
“Yes?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling.
“Are you…okay?”
Your question makes him halt-much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”
“You sound out of breath.” You say, behind the line trying to think of why. Because he can’t be running, he’s in his apartment with his papers on his bed like you.
“I’m not.” He coughs.
You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Ethan’s lips. You had to be mistaken, because that noise sounded like one due to pleasure.
Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…
“Ethan.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again. “What are you doing?”
Ethan curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying. Going over the study. Like you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s want to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm.
“Ah huh.” You hum, unconvinced. “And you’re sure you have no questions?”
“No. No, I’m all good.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly began to stroke himself again, his cock angry.
“No questions for me?” You ask now instead. Slowly coming to the definite realisation of Ethan jerking off.
“What do you mean?” Ethan asks, your tone going straight to his cock.
“Oh, nothing.” You hum, before you intentionally make your voice come out breathier, seeing what he’ll do. “Did I mention how nice your hair looked this morning?”
Ethan’s breath hitches as his hand quickens around his cock, seeming to have a mind of its own. “N—no.”
“Oh. Well, it looked really good, I just wanted to run my fingers through it constantly.” You pause hearing Ethan’s surprised whimper. “But that’s weird isn’t it, sorry.” You were teasing him now, your study forgotten.
“I—it’s not weird. You’re not weird. At all.” Ethan’s words are broken up by his panting.
“Aw, that’s so sweet, Ethan.” You hum, making Ethan’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke.
“Y—yeah?” His eyelids have begun to feel heavy.
“Yeah. Your always so sweet to me. Helping with my study, making sure I have a seat in econ.” You shift on your bed, debating on if you go bolder. “You’re also very good at studying, hence why you never have too many questions. You’re also very good at teaching, making sure I know what I’m doing. Your just such a good boy.”
Ethan chokes on a moan. This makes his eyes widen, because you definitely heard that. So he quickly goes to speak. “T—that’s sweet. Really sweet. You’re…really sweet.” His tone is still breathy though, as he imagines how sweet you really are…or taste.
“Am I?” You tease, as Ethan’s rapidly nods on the other line.
“Always so…sweet.” He says, his tone unintentionally dropping an octave.
“But I never seem to be able to help you.” You say. “I’m the one always asking questions.”
“That’s fine.” Ethan says. “I like hearing you talk.” He pauses, shit. “I—I mean, I like hearing your questions because then I can help you.”
A smile had edged your lips. “But that’s exactly it. You help me…” you drift off, speaking closer to the phone. “Let me help you.”
Ethan didn’t know what you meant but the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm. “W—with what?”
“Oh, you know, with many things.” You say, appearing innocent again. “One specifically would be your tension.”
Ethans chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My…tension?”
“Yeah.” You say lightly. “I’m very good at massaging.” You hold back a chuckle as you tease him.
“You’d give me a massage?” In Ethan’s mind that’s the closest he could get to you.
“Yeah.” You say. “I’d start with your shoulders of course, getting essential knots out.” You fake normalcy in the conversation.
“Then I might let my hands drift down your back.” You pause. “You’d have to lie down, so I could get a good angle.”
Ethan’s mouth has opened in pleasure at the thought of you touching him on the bed.
“I’d have to ask where feels the nicest, before I’d drag my hands down your body.” Your words were growing bolder and if Ethan’s mind wasn’t hazed over with lust he might have been able to pick out your innuendoes.
“Really?” He asks, his stroking quickening.
“Yeah. Though, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.”
Ethan moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?”
“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable—“
“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.”
You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear Ethan’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.”
Ethan nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?”
“Yeah, is that okay?”
“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release.
“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making Ethan’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.”
At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.”
“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through Ethans body. “W—what?”
“Come to my apartment.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm.
“No. You should—should come here.” He says breathlessly.
“Do you prefer yours?”
Ethan just wants to see you on his sheets, all his fantasies having happened on this bed. He wanted to make one a reality, even if it was just a massage.
“I just have all the extra study stuff here.” Not that he couldn’t easily bring it, but he ignored that, and so did you.
“See, you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you.
When the pleasure slowly ceased he heard words he never thought you’d utter. “Maybe next study session I could jerk you off?”
“W—what?” He chocked. Fuck, of course you had heard him. By the end he was being pretty obvious.
“Yeah, Ethan.” You grin. “Let me help relieve some tension.”
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