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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months ago

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Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: Your brothers take you and Javi out to a local bar when you're home to visit. When you run into one of your old childhood friends, Javi can't help but feel jealous

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v (whoops), creampie, breeding kink (only in the sense that there's no way in hell Javi's pulling out I know, who is she?), semi-public sex (gettin nasty in a grimy bar bathroom), two ass slaps, drinking/alcohol consumption, Jealous Javi, lowkey Javi is a dick (again, who is she writing nothing but fluff?!)

A/N: Shoutout to @yxtkiwiyxt for more horny Javi ideas rotting my brain at all hours of the day!!! 🤠 I can't believe that there has never been a jealousy one shot for these two in the great wide world of the NTL universe, but you bet your ass that Javier Peña is a possessive man to his core and tolerates zero bullshit from any man who dares to even look at you too long 😌 poorly beta'd bc I'm horny and impatient

Can be read as a part of the It's Never Too Late series!

"Another one?"

"Are you trying to make sure I have miserable hangover tomorrow?"

"Me? Never. Just tryin' to make sure you have fun." Your brother David teased, voice oozing with sarcasm as he popped off his barstool, giving you a playful nudge for your accusation.

While you and Javi had made a few trips back to your hometown of Chicago to visit your family since your move to Laredo, most of it had either been spent at your childhood home with your entire family, or at other family events, like your cousin's wedding a few months ago.

And of course, while your brothers, Charlie and David, were a part of your family, there was a substantial difference between spending time with your whole family together, and spending time with just your brothers.

So when they had convinced you and Javi to come out with them to Rossi's, your favorite dive bar in the city, under the guise of a few drinks and time to catch up, you shouldn't have been shocked to find yourself 4 beers and two shots of whisky deep, and preparing for a much longer night ahead of you than originally anticipated.

"'Nother one for you, big guy?" Charlie asked Javi, following behind David to make their way through the hot and sweaty mess of bodies crowding behind the bar for another drink.

"And before you answer, no isn't an option." David added, sneaking up behind Javi and shaking his shoulders.

"God, you are so annoying." You sighed, rolling your eyes at your brother, jabbing your elbow into his side to keep him from wrestling Javi out of his seat, "Just do two more beers. And I swear, if you come back with another shot, I'm pouring it over your head."

The four of you laughed before your brothers disappeared into the sea of bar patrons, leaving you and Javi giggling at your table.

"Fuck, I haven't drank this much since- God, I don't even remember." Javi sighed, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his head, rubbing the dark curls at the nape of his neck.

"Me either." You replied, followed by a long, low burp and more laughter, "I think the last time I was this drunk, I was here with David and Charlie and all their friends watching the Blackhawks lose in the playoffs, but all I remember is Charlie telling me I threw up in a bush and that he had to carry me to our taxi to get home. But don't worry, I promise not to get that drunk tonight."

"Sounds good, party animal." Javi smirked, placing his hand on your thigh under the table, rubbing it back and forth along the denim of your jeans, snickering at your drunken giggles.

The two of you both reached for your drinks, finishing off the last of what was left in your beer bottles, startled when you swore you had heard your name from a voice you knew wasn't Javi's, Charlie's or David's.

"Cubby? Holy shit, is that you?!"

Setting down your drink, you swerved your head over your shoulder, jaw dropping in complete surprise to see Frankie, one of your brother's best friends you had known for as long as you could remember.

"Frankie?! Oh my god, what the fuck?! Hi!" You squealed, shooting up out of your seat to give him a hug, the alcohol already in your system perhaps making you a little more enthusiastic about your greeting you would have been otherwise.

"What the hell are you doing here?! I thought the goons said you moved to Texas after everything that happened!" Frankie asked excitedly, parting from your hug to take a step back and look at you, shocked by your presence.

"I did, but I'm here visiting for the week! Charlie and David are at the bar right now getting drinks, but they'll be back in a second! Frankie, oh my god, I'm so happy to see you!" You grinned, giving him a playful shove.

"Me too. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever! You- You look great-" He paused, trying his best to play off his comment, quickly shifting topics, "Things uh, everything's been going good for you?"

"Yeah, things have been great! How about you? Wait, we have a table right here, do you wanna sit down and catch up? Unless you're busy, I don't wanna keep you!" You offered, gesturing towards the table behind you where Javi was sitting.

"Yeah, yeah, that would be fuckin' great! I'm meetin' a few buddies here later, but I have plenty of time to catch up if you guys have some room to squeeze me in!"

While you knew there would be plenty of room for one more person at your table, even after your brothers returned, what you didn't know is that since the moment Frankie had shown up, everything about Javi's once happy and carefree demeanor had completely changed.

And not for the better.

As soon as you turned around to face Javi, you could immediately sense the shift in tension, watching his brow furrow and hand wrap tighter around the neck of the near empty beer bottle he was nursing, practically burning a hole through Frankie with the way he was staring him down.

It seemed like Frankie could immediately sense it too, looking over at you before looking back at Javi, as if to silently ask who the hell was sitting with you and your brothers, looking like he was ready to commit murder, at the very least.

"Who's uh...." Frankie paused, awkwardly laughing as he nodded at Javi, trying his best to not seem off-put by Javi's clearly uncomfortable expression.

"I'm so sorry, Frank, this is my-"

"Fiancé. Javi." Javi stated, cutting off the rest of your introduction as he stood up out of his seat, sizing up Frankie as he offered a forceful handshake.

"Fiancé? Lucky guy." Frankie replied, forcing a friendly smile as he shook Javi's hand, "Congrats, I had no idea you were engaged." He shrugged, looking back at you with a more genuine expression before awkwardly shuffling around the table to find a seat across from you and Javi.

"Thanks, we got engaged in November and the wedding's in July!" You chimed in, hoping to try and ease Javi's obvious, unwarranted hostility towards Frankie.

"Oh nice!" Frankie nodded, smiling at both you and Javi, the crinkle in his cheeks dropping at Javi's still unamused facade, "Where you guys gettin' married? Here or Texas?"

"Texas." Javi answered, short and snappy with his response.

"Frank the Tank? No fuckin' way man! What's up?!"

The three of you all seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief at David's voice, turning your head to see him and Charlie making their way back, beers in hand.

"What's up, you goons? Long time, no see!" Frankie grinned, standing up to greet your brothers with happy pats on the back.

As the three of them said their 'hello's' you stayed put next to Javi, whapping his shoulder with the back of your hand, forcing him to face the frustrated frown plastered across your expression.

"What the fuck was that for?" You whispered to him, not wanting to draw any attention from your brothers and Frankie as they caught up.

"What?" Javi asked, shrugging nonchalantly before taking another sip of his beer, setting down the empty bottle with a forceful thud.

"W-what- What the fuck do you mean, 'what'?" You frowned, quickly realizing that Javi was trying to play dumb about the clearly uncomfortable interaction he and Frankie had just been through.

Javi silently shrugged again, jaw ticking from side to side as he looked back and forth between you and Frankie before speaking again.

"Just have never heard of Frankie before today. Didn't know you'd be so excited to see someone I didn't even know existed until five minutes ago."

"I've known Frankie since I was like, six years old. He's been one of my brother's best friends for like, ever. So yes, I was excited to see him. Would you like me to disclose every other person I've ever met and not mentioned to you, too?" You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling your scowl sink deeper into the wrinkles of your forehead.

Both groups of conversations seemed to lull at the same time, Frankie, David and Charlie all turning back towards your table to see the sour looks on both yours and Javi's faces.

"You good?" Charlie asked, handing a beer to you and then one to Javi.

"Listen, it was super nice to see all of you guys, but I don't wanna overstay my welcome or anything. I can just wait at the bar for my buddies if the four of you wanna hang out." Frankie suggested, clearly realizing he must have been the shift for the change of tone at the table.

"What, you're gonna catch up with these two idiots and leave me hanging? Seriously, please stay, we haven't hung out all together in forever!"

While Javi was able to make it subtle enough to everyone else, you could clearly tell that your invitation was the exact opposite of what he was hoping to hear.

"Only if you're-"

"Yes, I'm sure, Frankfurter, get a drink and sit your ass down!" You insisted, shooing Frankie towards the bar along with your brothers, the three of you howling over Frankie's long forgotten childhood nickname.

If he hadn't made it blatantly clear before, your avid encouragement for Frankie to join your group certainly had.

Right now, Javier Peña was one thing, and one thing only.

Jealous.

"I still can't believe you won't admit that I beat you!"

"Because you didn't!"

"I did, and you know it, David! C'mon you guys, back me up here!"

It hadn't taken much for the five of you to down a few more drinks- For four of you, you let the alcohol flowing through your veins loosen you up even more, laughing and reminiscing about your favorite shared childhood memories, teasing and taunting each other over the silly trials and tribulations of your youth.

For the other, the few beers and glasses of whisky swirling around in his stomach were nothing but a way to keep from saying (or doing) something out of spite that he'd regret.

"I'm gonna be honest with you here, Dave, I'm not gonna say that your sister's right, buuuut...." Frankie smirked, holding up his beer bottle to you, giving you a silent cheers of approval.

"See?! Told you! Thank you, Frankie, at least someone knows what they're talking about." You teased, giving David a jab in his stomach as he rolled his eyes at you.

"Dare I say, Cubby is more of a badass than either of you two clowns, but I don't know if you can handle that conversation yet." Frankie smiled, reaching across the table for a fist bump, "She's a pretty kick ass hockey player, ya know."

Javi had been so focused on picking at the waterlogged label of his beer bottle, he hadn't even noticed that Frankie was trying to talk to him, only looking in his direction after a nudge from your brother.

"Hmm?" Javi hummed, barely bothering to look in Frankie's direction to acknowledge his comment.

"I said your fiancé is a badass. Didn't know if you knew how good she was at hockey, that's all." Frankie shrugged, before taking another sip of his beer.

"Yeah, why the fuck would I not know that? She's my fiancé." Javi huffed, jaw clenching.

"Javi, seriously?" You whispered, shooting him a stern look as you had to quite literally bite your tongue to keep from causing a scene at the way he was behaving.

"Sorry, man, I- I was just givin' her a compliment." Frankie grimaced, shooting you an apologetic look from across the table.

"Yeah, I think you've made it pretty fucking clear how much you like complimenting her." Javi grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear and to having you fuming at your fiancé's enraging behavior.

You took one long, low deep breath, trying to compose yourself as the rest of the table sat in uncomfortable silence, wishing they had a chainsaw to cut through the palpable tension shrouding the air.

"Can I talk to you for a second, please?"

Javi knew just as well as you that even though you had phrased it as a question, he certainly had no choice in the matter, begrudgingly trailing behind you as you silently excused the both of you from the table.

In a stark silence, Javi followed behind you through the sea of drunken strangers that filled the bar until you reached a semi quiet hallway near the back of the building by the bathrooms.

You let out a frustrated sigh as your back bounced against the wall, using it to prop yourself as you stared at Javi, arms folded over his chest and eyes wandering in anywhere but your direction.

"What the fuck is going on, Javi? And don't bullshit me and say that you don't know what I'm talking about because you clearly do." You demanded, nostrils flaring and fists clenched.

"Like I really need to fucking say it." Javi huffed, shaking his head with a sarcastic laugh.

"You don't, because you've made it very clear, but yeah, I'd like to hear you say it."

You could feel the heat seething through your veins as Javi chewed at the inside of his lip, trying to bide whatever time he could to keep from bruising his pride.

"Wow, I really cannot believe this. You're seriously that threatened by Frankie?" You scoffed, stunned that Javi couldn't bring himself to admit it.

"I'm not fuckin' threatened by him." He spit back, eyes peeled to the ground. "He's just way too fucking comfortable with you."

"Oh, you cannot be serious. Because I've known him forever and he's a nice guy? Jesus Christ, Javi."

"I've been watching the way he's been fucking looking at you since the moment he said hello to you. How he's talking to you, acting with you, it's like- Jesus, it's like he trying to-"

"What? Like he's trying to flirt with me? Like he likes me?" You questioned, raising your voice enough to finally get Javi to look at you, letting him feel the frustration you were engulfed in.

"Yes! Jesus fucking Christ, yes!" Javi groaned back, growing more heated by the second.

"And what if he was, Javi? What if he was trying to flirt with me? Do you really in your right mind think that I would ever, EVER pick him above you?" You asked, throwing up your hands in defeat, voice trembling as you fought back tears, "So what if he was? I'm yours, Javi, and I've got the fucking ring on my finger to prove it."

You and Javi stood in silence for a moment, watching each other's chests rise and fall on beat. You swear you can see it in his eyes, the way everything about Javi seems to shift, realizing how badly he'd fucked tonight up.

Before you can get in another word, you can see Javi's eyes lock on the single stall bathroom door that's swung open at the end of the hallway, looking once at you and once again at the bathroom. You weren't even able to protest before he had grabbed you by the hand, checking once over his shoulder before ushering you inside and locking the door behind him.

As the lock clicked, you could feel the heat in your cheeks burning, and not just with anger like they were a few moments ago. The dim light of the bathroom flickered over the shadowy figure of Javi's broad body until he had your back flushed against the sink, pinning you between the porcelain and him.

"Javi, what are you-"

Suddenly, Javi had one hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped around your hip as he craned his neck down to let his lips collide with yours.

The angry part of you wanted to push him off you, to berate him with your frustrations until he apologized for how childishly he had behaved tonight.

Every other part of you that was so turned on by the fact Javi was so worked up, he had no other choice than to fuck you in the bathroom to prove that you were his, couldn't have cared less about it.

"You're all fucking mine, you know that?" Javi growled, his words warm against your skin, muffled between messy kisses.

"I'm all yours, Javi." You moaned, fighting to let each word escape from your lips as your mouths became frantic, colliding with tongues and teeth.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as Javi's hands slid down your sides, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper on your jeans until he the denim and your underwear pooled around your ankles.

After your jeans had dropped to the ground, his hands were back on your sides, fingertips digging into your skin as he flipped you around, your stomach pressed against the countertop, ass flushed against his hips where you could feel the strain of his cock beneath his pants.

"No one else gets to have you like this. Gets to make you feel like I do." Javi groaned, your core aching at the clanking of his belt coming undone behind you, watching his brow furrow in concentration in the reflection from the mirror in front of you, "Do they, baby?"

"N-No." You whimpered, feeling him run his tip through your folds, collecting the slick that had already begun pooling between your thighs.

"You gonna let me fuck you right here in this bathroom, hermosa? Let everyone here know that you're mine?" Javi mewled, whispering into your ear as he buried his head in the crook of your neck.

"Mhmmmhh." You nodded, whining as Javi teased you with the head of his cock, prodding at your entrance, "Please."

Javi chuckled softly to himself, hearing you gasp as he filled you with every inch of him, hips pressed firmly against your ass. You could practically feel your eyes roll to the back of your head with how full he felt inside you, despite how easily you had taken him from how wet and worked up you were.

"Love this pussy so much, baby. Always so fucking wet and tight for me."

Your eyes opened as Javi began to thrust into you, startled by the already deliberate pace he was setting with each snap of his hips. Staring back at the mirror, you could see the smug smirk spreading between Javi's cheeks, knowing how quickly he could make you crumble.

Your hands shot back behind you, wrapping around Javi's stomach, trying to grab fist fulls of his shirt to brace yourself as he fucked into you. With the grip Javi had around your hips, you shouldn't have been worried about going anywhere, only about the marks that he'd leave in the pump flesh of your skin after he was finished.

"Oh fuck, Javi! Fuck, oh my godddd-" You moaned, all consumed by the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, perfectly pounding at your g-spot with every thrust.

You tried to let your head dip back, but before you could tilt it any further, one of Javi's hands had shifted, snaking up your front and wrapping around your jaw, forcing your gaze back in the mirror to meet his.

"Nuh uh, mi amor," he paused, gritting his teeth as he swore under his breath, trying to compose himself, "need to see you, Osita. Wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum and fuck you so fucking full of me, you're gonna feel me dripping out of you all night."

His words had seemed to spark something feral in the both of you, moaning his name as you backed your ass up further into him, taking everything that he had to give.

With your eyes locked in filthy glass reflection, Javi's hand slid back down your sides, smacking your ass before reaching around to your front, slotting himself between your thighs to find your clit, puffy and aching to be touched.

"Fuck, Javi! Feels so fucking good." You whined, the newfound pressure of his fingers against your clit causing the tingle building at the base of your spine to grow rapidly.

"Yeah? And who's the only one that gets to make you feel this good, baby?" Javi grunted, hips slapping against your ass, each thrust feeling harder and deeper than the last.

With the way Javi was fucking you, you felt lucky that your brain could manage to string together a coherent thought, let a lone a comprehendible sentence, your words heavy and breathless as you fought against the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm starting to creep through your body.

"You! It's- fuck- it's you Javi! Only you!" You sobbed, praying that the music and chatter of the bar was loud enough to drown out your volume.

"That's my girl." Javi devilishly grinned, feeling the way your cunt was clamping down around his cock, sensing how close you were to finishing, "Gotta cum first for me, hermosa. Fuckin' soak me before I cum so deep inside of you."

Javi began to circle your clit faster, putting just enough pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves to push you over the edge, your vision going white as your orgasm began to crash through you.

"Fuck, Javi! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-ahhhhh!"

You could feel how instantly limp your body had gone, so drunk on pleasure, that if Javi hadn't been behind you, holding you up, you were convinced you would have collapsed over the edge of the sink you were fucking on.

You knew Javi wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and frantic as he chased his own high, desperate to make good on his promise to fill you with every last drop he had to give.

"That's it, baby. Fuck, I'm- mierda- I'm close. Gonna give you everything. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to. Feels so fucking- fuck- so fucking good. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With one last pump of his cock, Javi was spilling inside you, painting your walls with his spend, burying himself inside your cunt until he you had taken everything he had to give.

The warmth and wetness of your mixed arousal pooled where your bodies met, making a mess between your thighs as Javi began to pull out.

The both of you watched as your bodies rose and fell in the mirror, trying desperately to catch your breath in your post orgasmic haze. It wasn't long until your unhinged jaws were replaced with devious smirks, Javi grabbing you by the waist to flip him back towards him, pulling you to his chest as he kissed you.

"Damn, maybe I should make you jealous more often." You teased, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a loving poke on his chest before reaching down to pull your pants back up your legs.

"Whatever." Javi sighed, playfully rolling his eyes at you as he did the same, looping his belt back through his jeans. He let out another deep breath, arms crossed over his chest as he looked up at you with a sheepish shrug, "I'm- fuck. I'm sorry about tonight. I was a dick."

"It's okay." You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to drape your arms around his neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips, "I love you. And only you. I don't think you could get rid of me, even if you tried. And I think that me letting you fuck me in this dirty ass bar bathroom proves that."

The two of you laughed, turning back to the mirror to readjust the sweaty mats of tangled hair and crinkled clothes in hopes of avoiding any suspicions when you made your way back to the table.

"I know. Still shouldn't have been an asshole about it." He shrugged, stepping behind you so that his chest was pressed against your back and arms were draped across your front, his mustache tickling your neck as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "This was fucking hot, though."

"It was. Feel sorry for the next person who has to use this bathroom." You grimaced, hoping that you hadn't managed to leave a trace of the ways you had further disrespected the dingy restroom.

"You wanna head out first, or should I?" Javi asked, rocking you back and forth in his grasp, swaying you just enough to make you burst out into giggles.

"It's so late and I'm sure everyone here is hammered, we probably just could sneak out at the same time and no one would notice." You suggested, still drunk enough to not care enough about a proper escape plan.

After one last kiss and smack of your ass, Javi quickly cracked open the door, doing one swift scan before giving you the nod to note the coast was clear.

Javi grabbed you by the hand, looking back at you with a stupid smirk as the two of you left the bathroom, unsuspecting and assuming that you'd be able to make it down the hallway without any run ins.

Unfortunately, Javi hadn't noticed the body across the bar, making a B-line to the bathroom through the drunken crowd towards the bathrooms after his half-assed check.

Before any of you could process it, Javi collided with the other person, both people grunting and stumbling backwards, mumbling apologies as they collected themselves, until they locked eyes.

"Oh, uh- Sorry. Didn't uh- Didn't see you guys coming." Frankie stammered, looking back and forth between you and Javi and the bathroom you had just emerged from, quickly piecing the puzzle before him together.

"All good. See you, uh- see you back at the table." Javi winced, trying his best to keep from laughing as both your cheeks began to turn a bright shade of pink as you slid past Frankie.

"Looks like you may not end up being the only jealous one tonight, Jav."

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lay-z · 4 months ago

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Simon Riley wants to eat you alive.

Everyone privileged enough to be considered close to him, knows that Simon Riley has the biggest sweet tooth.

He eats his dessert first if he feels like it which is most of the time and would rather munch on a box of Belgian pralines than scoff down a more nourishing MRE in the field.

He doesn't have a favourite. Creamy chocolates and toffees, fruity hard candies, succulent cakes and biscuits, hell even salted licorice if he's particularly desperate.

The man has been claimed dead one too many times in his wretched life at this point, so why should he bloody care about something silly like his sugar intake. If he sees something sweet, he will simply lift his mask high enough to stuff his ugly gob full with a whole cupcake in one obscene bite before hiding behind the cloth again, wiping the frosting off his gloves on the dirty ground or even his fatigues carelessly.

No one ever dares to comment on the strange sticky stains on his gear; the smudged pinks, and whites, and browns. When Johnny called him gross once, he ended up with a nasty bruise on his cheekbone and a better understanding of his Lieutenant's sugar addiction.

However, the craving stays and festers in his gut like an insatiable hole that's been carved into his battered body, and no piece of cake nor chocolate can begin to sate his hunger for something soft and sweet to sink his crooked teeth into.

It's no surprise then, when Simon notices you one fateful day; sniffs you out, because he easily catches your scent as you walk past him with your gaze straight ahead, and he knows the sour bitterness that seems to be oozing out of your pores all too well.

It's such a feeble attempt of yours at keeping your own mask in place; hiding behind thick layers of pessimism and sarcasm, dark humor, and feigned indifference, although it only makes Simon's mouth water even more as he knows exactly what you're hiding behind your poorly crafted walls.

Because next to his sweet tooth, he's also a bloody masochist loves feeling his cold heart thumb with something akin to feelings whenever you reject his clumsy advances. You've somehow gotten under his skin in a way that no one dared to even try before and Simon is ready to rip his mask off and tear down his own walls to make you understand, make you see that he's just the same, just as starved for something real and longlasting.

"You can stop with tha' whole," he makes a vague gesture with his gloved mammoth hand at you, "attitude shite around me now, luv. Not gonna work, ya know."

Again, you simply roll your eyes, clicking your tongue in exasperation as you avert your gaze from him with a frown, but Simon catches the flush creeping up your neck, warming your cheeks right up at his unyielding attention. So stubborn, just like him.

"Can't you go bother someone else?" you huff quietly, though he knows you don't mean it. "Bloody nutter." None of it.

And Simon, not Ghost, has finally found a new purpose in his life.

Hidden deep, deep down inside you, there's the softest and sweetest gooey core, and he is more than determined to peel away every thick layer like colorful candy wrapper all the colors already a warning in itself, one he shall too ignore until your fragile little heart is exposed, completely bared to him, so he can finally indulge, and lay his burning claim.

Oh, but little does he know you've been starving and denying yourself anything sweet for years as well, and perhaps, now that he gave you a taste of what you too been yearning for, you turn out worse than Simon himself.

Okay, I actually might turn this into a longer oneshot. Also, Simon would definitely save your name as Truffle<3 in his contacts :) @bloodytalefeathers 🤍

#cod blurb #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod smut #simon riley smut #cod #reader insert

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swordgrace · 29 days ago

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heyy, i LOVE UR WALKER FICS OMGG IM LITCH BLUSHING SMM!! I have a request of reader and john walker with angsty!bloody!injured sex plsss 🥹🥹 ik being so soft and vulernable with that white chocolate would be so UGH YES, bandaged soft sex would go elite tbh.

Thank uu 🫰🫰

╱╱ೃ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: john walker x fem!reader.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5K.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), porn with little plot, injured!john, switch!john, john walker’s praise kink, begging, light teasing, making out, grinding, groping, cowgirl position, top!reader, unprotected p in v sex.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the ‘white chocolate’ part of this request made me GIGGLE — but walker is def a switch (will not accept other answers) !! thank you for this request, anon! I loved writing it & I hope you enjoy! 🫶

Dried crimson smatters his temples, stark-white gauze tangled around his midsection, patched over his thick bicep. Bruises flourish like violets over his abdomen, collarbone, and a particularly nasty one sits below his jaw.

A soured expression paints his features, planted firmly within the medbay, situated within a cushioned seat.

An accelerated healing factor cannot seem to keep in-stride with the myriad of injuries he’d suffered during the mission hours ago. Agitation coils into his shoulders, accompanied by embittered frown curls at the corners of his mouth.

He’s better than this, he thinks, a better soldier than the disorganized slop he’d become in the heat of battle. Though, it was all for good reasons — had he not stepped in, it would’ve been you.

John would’ve rather taken several beatings instead of letting you get hurt. Part of him felt righteous, vindicated in knowing that he took the fall to keep you safe; that was satisfying enough for him.

Nursing a wounded pride amongst the plenty of scrapes he’d received was arguably the most discomforting pain of all.

His head tilts back against the seat, blonde tresses disheveled and mussed, beard shadowing his features, creeping toward his throat. Eyes screw shut, a sharp exhale whistling from his lungs.

“How are you holding up?”

The softer cadence of your voice reverberates throughout the room, your own injuries superficial, menial compared to his. Illuminated by the backdrop of soft, orange light, John’s gaze finds you, ethereally pretty.

A scoff ripples through his throat, jaw taut with rigidity. “Great, fantastic.” He grouses, a hint of sarcasm etched into his words. “I can’t believe this.” Petulance bleeds through each syllable.

Argumentative, grumping John is the John you’ve become intimately acquainted with, but in private moments, between the hardened cracks, he softens up. It’s the John you’ve grown to love.

He runs his tongue over his teeth, pouting as if he’s lost a game. Sometimes it’s a good reminder that he isn’t invincible — isn’t as ironclad as he initially believed.

Adapting your approach, you try again, door hissing shut behind you as you take a few paces forward. “It’s only for a few days. Once you’re mostly healed, they’ll put you back on missions.”

Being out-of-commission angered John beyond belief — feeling useless, confined to licking his wounds like a whipped dog. He’s visibly agitated, frustration slithering over his flesh as if it’s a tangible thing.

A twitch settles into his jaw, cerulean hues trained up at the ceiling, groveling. It isn’t the physical pain that vexes him, it’s the mental, the feeling of being unwanted, not needed.

“They asked Bob to go,” John gruffs, disdainful as he shifts within the seat, palms planted firmly within his lap. “Bob — the guy isn’t ready for the field.” His anger bleeds through, oozing like a gaping wound.

“You’re going to have to let this one go, John.” Placating, you lower yourself to sit beside him, gaze wandering over the labyrinth of bruises scattered over his form, over tight linens.

A mirthless chuckle floated from his mouth, blonde brows screwed together, a visage of sheer anguish. “Right,” He quips, a low groan leaving him when he adjusts, sitting up a little straighter. “Easy for you to say.”

He gets mouthy when he’s upset — it’s unintentional, no malice behind it, but you’re quick to put a stop to it before it rages out of control. “I’m not the one you’re frustrated with.”

It’s a gentle reminder for him to check his attitude, before he says something stupid.

John huffs, countenance contorted into a look of surrender, and he concedes to you, too tired and too marred to keep it up. “I know.” He utters, craning his head to look at you.

Though, even when he’s wound-up into a knot of frustration, he’s still handsome, battered pride and all, sporting a cut on the bridge of his nose.

A low sigh slips through gritted teeth, and he feels your palm against his forearm. “Anything that I can do to help?” You ask, fingertips caressing gentle circles over the muscle there.

“Don’t think kissing it better will work this time,” John grunts, cringing at his own joke. There’s a peculiar sheen in his eyes, one that you’ve seen sparingly; he wants something. “Thanks.”

“You don’t think so?” Digits still over his arm, lifting to brush blonde tresses away from his forehead, skimming over a cut. He shivers at your touch, pretending that he doesn’t crave it, doesn’t need it.

Through gritted teeth, John attempts to come off as suave, collected; instead, he’s splintering at the seams, hoping you’ll dote on him a little bit. “No. Just need to sleep it off.” He fibs, looking anywhere else.

Wordlessly, you slip closer, noticing the way his jaw tightens, clenched so hard that it might snap into two. Lips brush over the bare skin of his shoulder, embracing a livid bruise, his flesh violet beneath your mouth.

John masks his noise of startlement with another haughty grunt, feeling your palm skirt over his thigh. Muscle tenses, firm and thick, the one part of him that isn’t completely shot to hell.

He sits rigid, as if he’s dismissive of the contact, but it feels incredible; your mouth is gentle, a careful juxtaposition to the wounds littering his form. You plant a kiss to his bicep, over a shallow, now-faded cut.

“Hey, you don’t have to …” John begins, but he cuts himself off when you’re slithering into his lap, body warm and pliant against him. He doesn’t protest, shivering as his hands shift to cup your hips, drawing circles over clothed skin.

He’ll never admit it outloud, but he enjoys being underneath you — enjoys it when control can be relinquished, and he doesn’t have to think.

Pupils dilate with a veiled surprise, lips slacking as he gazes at you, gaze glassy with a sheen of newfound desire. A pause keeps you from proceeding, palms cradling his grizzled face.

“If you don’t want to, tell me.” Saccharine, your tone oozes like honey, crawling over his bones, making him feel subdued, cared for. He isn’t used to being someone that’s loved by another.

Bravado and arrogance bleed away when you’re left alone together, as if he no longer has to put up a performance for you. He’s animalistic when he wants to be, but you’ve caught him being docile.

Hushed, John doesn’t move you away nor protest, head jostling in a brief nod before your mouth molds to his. The kiss is disarmingly soft, ripping every scrap of air from his lungs.

The way you kiss him is blissful, gentle; you’re taking care not to hurt him or cause any strain. You’re hovering, preventing your full weight from sinking down into his lap.

“I can take it.” John grits into your mouth, calloused palms sitting over your hips, urging you close. Gradually, you fully settle down, thighs pinned on either side of his hips.

A low, contented sigh escapes him when your hands stroke over either side of his jaw, digits pricked by his beard. The sensation feels nice; he feels wanted, secure.

“You’re so handsome, John.” The words float from your mouth, delicate; John feels his breath hitch unexpectedly, clinging tightly to you.

He feels as if you might slip through his fingers like grains of sand if he doesn’t cage you in, gaze half-lidded as you massage over his neck. The muscle in his jaw unclenches, relaxes.

“It doesn’t feel that way.” He mumbles, still smeared with dried blood, bandaged, feeling closer to a loser than to a hero. The soft pads of your fingers trace his collar, feather-light over bruises and scrapes.

Kissing his jaw, you feel him shudder beneath you, palms kneading into your hips. “You’re wrong,” The warmth of your sigh plumes over his skin, eliciting a sharp exhale. “You’re perfect.”

The validation he so desperately craves is presented to him freely, the praise; he’s like a dog wagging its tail for its owner. It feels good to be wanted by you — needed, craved, coveted.

A rumble forms within his chest, feeling your lips shift across his throat. Kisses string together over his jugular, climbing across his flesh, lavishing him in doting affection.

He hates how quickly it gets him hard, body betraying him instantaneously, growing erection beginning to push into your core.

One hand trails, caressing over raw, sinewy muscle, over the dusting of blonde hair that covers his chest, slips beneath the waistband of his tactical pants.

John’s brain hums with static when you touch him, tendrils of ecstasy shooting through his body. A low, husky groan tears through his throat, and he’s huffing like a bull.

Quiet, you cup the tent forming at his groin, pulling a low groan from his lips. “Jesus,” John huffs, breathing beginning to spike, tongue wetting his bottom lip. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“You aren’t stopping me.” There’s merit to be found in your statement, akin to a sultry murmur as you lightly grope at his clothed cock. Fingers flex over your hips, rough like leather, wanton.

“Nope.” He mutters, a half-sigh, squirming beneath your embrace. His mouth swiftly returns to yours despite the exhaustion that seeps into his bones, lips needy and possessive.

Kissing him ragged, your lips are unusually voracious, meeting his need with something sharp of your own. Still, you’re massaging over his cock, evoking another strained groan from him, lost within the labyrinth of his mouth.

His scruffy countenance melds with yours, bleeding heat, kissing you with enough vigor that it prompts you to steady yourself. Your heart gallops, races — it’s quick and erratic, beating in your ears.

Even when he’s pushed to the brink of fatigue, John is still eager for you, one palm sliding to grab at the swell of your ass. His hold is ironclad, bruising as he pushes one hand beneath your shirt.

The scratch of his beard has quickly become one of your favorite sensations, sharp and grating whenever your mouths connect. Nimble digits slide toward his belt, swift and needy, wanting him inside of you.

A ragged sigh snares within his throat, manifesting as a mere hum, body vibrating with exhilaration. His pearlescent teeth briefly scrape over your bottom lip, the kiss filling you with a mounting fervor.

“Want you to fuck me.” John gruffed, exhale splitting his lungs, pushing out through his nose. He was worn-down, vulnerable — made him drop the cocksure confidence, submit to you.

Bewildered, your visage contorted into a look of pleasant surprise, lips parting as you kissed his jaw, fingertips tracing over his abdomen. “Yeah? It won’t be too much?” You murmur, feeling his fingers push into your waistband.

“Yeah,” He grits as if he’s being restrained, pupils dilated, tongue lashing over his teeth. “It won’t be too much, I can handle it.” John quips, as if the mere notion of not fucking you is preposterous.

He’s battered, black and blue all over, still yearning; you’re more than happy to indulge him, breaking contact to slide out of your shorts. He’s watching you as if you’re some angel, taking his breath away, and you are.

Roughened digits tug at the soft cotton of your panties whilst you’re dismantling his belt, listening to the clatter as you unzip his tactical pants.

Despite the numerous wounds he’s nursing, John’s mind cycles out the pain, the aching — they become mere background noise when you’re clamoring back in his lap.

Dipping into his pants, you maneuver the black tactical gear aside, hand warm as you fist around the base of his cock. He groans, lungs stinging as he kneads into your bare flesh, reminding himself that you’re real.

Precum glistens against the flushed head of his cock, oozing still as you free from the confines of clothing. John gapes, brows pinched together, countenance one of an unbridled desire.

Lifting your hips, you drag the tip of his cock through your folds, slick from your own arousal. He licks his bottom lip, chest rising and falling heavily, succumbing to the pressure of anticipation.

“Christ, hey —” His hips stutter as you grind yourself against him, cock pressing with mild resistance over your cunt. “Stop teasing.” He nearly groans, palms strangling your hips, thumbs circling over your flesh.

“Say please.” As the words tumble from your mouth, John fights against baser instincts, knowing he’s still strong enough to manhandle you into submission.

He doesn’t fight you, because he likes it when you’re stern — it’s ridiculously hot.

“Please,” He huffs, cock still sliding over your slit, the contact making him writhe. “Please — damn, need you to sit down.” Through clenched teeth, he’s urging you down, visibly desperate.

Wordlessly, you sink down onto his cock, letting his length spear through you, perfectly thick as he fills you to the brim.

A moan rips through your throat, followed by a satisfied whine, hands flying to perch against his broad shoulders. You narrowly avoid his bandages, digits massaging into the juncture beside his throat.

“God,” You whimper, his cock kissing your cunt with such perfection; he feels incredible, and he knows he does, too. “You feel so good, John.” A soft sigh plumes through your lips, nails digging crescents into his skin.

Allowing yourself a second to adjust, you begin to move, rocking up and down, friction blistering between bodies. The nip of praise makes his head spin, jaw slackening as he helps move you.

With each deliberate bounce of your body, his length sheathed itself within you, the warm familiarity of it enough to make your body tremble in ecstasy.

The tightness of your cunt drives him to the brink of madness, huffing beside your ear, teeth grazing over your jaw. He’s growling, panting, his sounds mirroring that of a feral dog instead of a man.

Without warning, his hips buck into you, cock lewdly clashing into your cunt, the force of it enough to make your head spin. Clinging to him, you adopt a steady pace, body dragging out halfway before sinking down again.

The sensation of his cock filling you completely, nearly kissing your cervix, almost made you sob from delight. “So perfect for me like this.” You huff, watching his head roll back, jaw locked.

Lost within the labyrinth of ecstasy, you bounce up and down on him, assisted by his calloused hands grappling onto your haunches. He handles you carefully, caressing, getting off on your praise.

Lips momentarily collide in a messy kiss of tongue and teeth, the both of you clawing for one another, succumbing to desire. Throaty whines escape you, consumed by his kiss, one that ached with desperation.

“Jesus, you’re tight,” John groans, low and heady into the sweetness of your mouth, feeling one of your hands fist at his blonde tresses. “S’perfect, you’re perfect.” A half-growl snares within his throat.

He’s stealing glances at you through his lashes, and you’re beautiful, looking so pretty in his lap, riding his cock as if you’re made for him.

Each drag of your hips sends you easing back down onto his cock, walls rippling around him, milked by the arousal pooling between your thighs.

Mouths briefly connect; sloppy, needy kisses that make your thighs twitch. Your cunt clenches around his length, and every flush of your bodies sends him into some borderline frenzy.

A familiar coil of heat began to unfurl within the pit of your stomach, just as it did his own. A sharp inhale inhabits your lungs, one of a dizzying exhilaration as one hand shifts to cup your breast.

A shadow passes through his stare, one eclipsed by desire, sending pulses through your lower belly. Intermingled groans and whines flood the space between, skin crawling with heat.

Beneath your shirt, his rough palm kneads at your tits, thumb brushing over your nipple. He gauges your reaction through a half-lidded gaze, lips parted, visibly incendiary.

“F—Fuck, John,” With another moan, your pace ticks up in intensity, bouncing up and down along his cock, bodies flush. His cock throbs hot inside of you, noises lewd and crass. “So handsome like this.”

He preens, keening like a cat who’s caught the canary, one hand firm over your hip, massaging into the soft skin there. Dull ripples of pain ebb through his muscles, but he ignores it, focused on you, instead.

John shudders at the feeling of your cunt, tight and warm around him, clenching around his cock with each roll of your hips. Pleasure mounts within him like a white-hot coil, burning through his belly.

A slurred string of husky babbles come tumbling from his mouth, intermingled with a curse or two, hand groping at your breast. He’s got your shirt rucked up around your ribs, brows pinched together.

“Easy, easy,” John chides, afraid that he won’t be able to handle much more. Ecstasy builds, twined around his muscles, constricting him in some blinding haze. “Slower, honey.” He pants, staring up at you as if he’s seen a ghost.

With a disheveled nod, your head jostles, strands of hair floating beside your temples. His hand shifts to brush them aside, palm lingering beside your jaw, thumb tracing your bottom lip.

Your pace dissolves from excitable and swift to agonizingly slow, ensuring that he feels every drag of your hips, every ripple of your cunt. It makes you want to sob from the pleasure, nerves all set ablaze.

Each downward thrust is deliberate, his cock kissing your walls, nearly bottoming out inside of you. It makes you writhe, evoking a myriad of needy moans from your mouth, chanting his name like some incantation.

“S’good, that’s it,” He sighs with you, cupping your chin to coax you in for a hot, messy kiss. Your mouth is saccharine, tongues briefly brushing together, his hand still kneading at your thigh. “Just like that.”

The words stick low in his throat, emerging as a husky lull that travels over your spine in pleasant waves. Desire simmers within you, riding him with slower bounces of your hips, ensuring that he feels everything.

“Sh—Shit,” You whine, one hand digging crimson crescents into his unscathed shoulder, the other fisting at his blonde tresses. “John, you feel so good, m’close.” With another breathy moan, you plant a kiss to his brow.

He’s melting beneath you, huffing beside your throat, teeth momentarily snagging over your soft flesh. A string of breathy grunts rip from his throat, desperate as he gets closer to the edge with each thrust.

A pleasant burn stings the muscle of your thighs, exerting themselves as you continue to rock up and down within his lap, motions somewhat rhythmic.

Scarlet clings to John’s features, handsome and pink, jaw strained as if something might shatter. He’s grunting, warm baritone slipping off into a half-moan when you come down again, his cock pulsing, aching.

He looks whipped; between his battered, wounded state and the starstruck expression, he’s happy to be subservient to you, this time. One hand slithers between your thighs, thumb briefly circling your clit.

It’s as if you’ve been struck by lightning, nerves singed with electricity, body jumping as if you’ve been scorched. The sensation pulls tight within your belly, arousal seeping between your thighs, leaving a mess on his cock.

John is eager to please, thumb toying with your clit with each downward motion of your hips, rocking back and forth. “Christ, I’m gonna …” He pants, unable to keep himself from combusting into a thousand pieces.

A breathy ‘fuck’ tears through his mouth, cock repeatedly pistoning in and out of you, listening to your pleasured whines and sighs.

Tangled together, you’re crashing into your peak, voice a crescendo of delighted cries. As you slow your motions, you let yourself fall apart on top of him, messy and warm.

Everything is white-hot, blinding; it was a perfect storm of sensations, ones that made you delirious with desire, sobbing with ecstasy.

He’s cumming inside of you, mouth full with a groan, countenance contorted into a look of sheer bliss. Ensnared within a half-frenzy, he lets you roll another time or two, working you through your own orgasm.

His forehead tilts against yours, brow creased, visage unfurling with bliss, a sense of relief coupled with a twinge of pain. Muscle-deep bruises still sting, his wounds oozing with a dull ache.

Each breath sits ragged in your chest as you compose yourself, hands smoothing over his jaw, thumb caressing beside his chin. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?” You murmur, concerned.

John huffs, rolling back within the seat, nearly collapsing in a heap of exhaustion, caught within the afterglow. “No,” He sighs. “Even if you did, I wouldn’t let you stop.”

Slow, you plant a kiss against his mouth — passionate, threaded with tenderness. He exhales, pushing the air out through his nose, palms caging in over your hips.

The both of you stay like that for a time, interlocked until you’re moving off of him, thighs burning, quivering like leaves. “Still don’t think kissing it better works?” You muse, lips curling into a smile.

“It worked a little,” John grunts, zipping his pants back up and latching his belt. “Guess I’ll let you kiss it better more often.” He muses, standing up with a groan, body still recovering.

“Right, let’s get you to bed.” With a playful lilt, you’re finished dressing, tapping his ass with a gentle smack. He pretends that it doesn’t make his face burn or his cock twitch with want.

“Yes ma’am.”

#mcu #marvel #thunderbolts #thunderbolts x reader #john walker x reader #john walker x you #john walker x y/n #john walker smut #john walker fanfic #john walker #us agent x reader #wyatt russell #thunderbolts smut #marvel x reader #marvel smut #marvel fanfic

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flofaiiry · 2 months ago

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show me ; pope cody x reader

warnings: fem!reader, reader touches herself and pope watches (and talks her through it), use of vibrator, swearing

wc: 1.3k ... i got a little ahead of myself.

note: this idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and ever since i saw @erwinsvow 's blurb that was sort of along these lines last night... i just had to get this written down. + this is my second time ever writing smut so pls be nice!!! feedback is always appreciated :D

"what's this?" pope asks, holding a small vibrator in his hand like it's a foreign object. you quickly cross the room to him to grab it, your face heating up. he smirks & takes a step back "no, no..." he lowers his hand, "what is it?"

he knows damn well what it is. but he wants to hear you say it.

"it's a..." your voice trails off. "oh shut up, you know what it is." pope's smirk only grows, "nah, i don't think i do," he says, voice oozing with sarcasm. you huff, "it's a vibrator, andrew." you're currently cursing yourself for forgetting to get rid of it before he got back- in hopes of avoiding an exchange just like this one.

"and what would you do with this vibrator?" he asks, still sarcastic. he is loving this; you on the other hand... not quite. "what do you think i did with it? i used it to get off," you say plainly. "three years with no sex is not an easy feat, i'll have you know."

"so what would you do with it?" he says again. you scoff, "what, do you want me to show you?" you say, full sarcasm. you're hoping pope will pick up on that but he just stares at you. your scoff turns into a laugh somewhere along the way, "you cannot be serious." he doesn't say anything just raises his hand holding the toy and presents it to you.

"show me." he says, voice low.

you don't take it at first, your eyes locked with his. "andrew, i'm not going to-" you start.

"show. me." he says slowly, definitive this time.

your eyebrows shoot up. "seriously?" you say, voice embarrassingly high pitched. "you want me to, like, touch myself? and you just watch?" he nods slow. "i want you to show me how you'd get yourself off when i was gone." he tosses the small toy behind you onto the bed and moves his hands to the waistband of your pants, starting to undo them.

"but the whole point of you being here now is that i don't have to do that anymore." he doesn't answer, just works off your pants until they're in a pile at your ankles. "andrew," you start, but are cut off when he looks back up at you. those pretty hazel eyes practically boring into yours.

"please?" he asks, and suddenly you forgot how to argue. who are you to deny a man who says please so nicely?

you break your eyes away from his intense gaze to look down at the floor and sigh. you cant believe you're actually about to do this, but when andrew cody asks, you oblige.

"fine." you look up at him, "but after this- i'm getting rid of it." pope smirks, "we'll see about that." you shake your head through a laugh and turn to go sit down on the bed, searching for the toy among the sheets. you find it and hold it up. "you're sure you want me to do this?" you ask, while sitting back into the pillows and shuffling forward to lie down a bit.

he nods, "oh i'm sure." pope moves to sit at the foot of the bed, allowing him a perfect view of your body. you feel that warmth in your face again as his eyes rake over your body, greedily taking you in. you take a deep breath before hooking your fingers under the waist of your panties and pulling them down to sit at your knees. pope wordlessly leans forward and grabs them, pulling them the rest of the way off. he tosses them somewhere in the room before turning his attention back to you.

"so do you want me to like... i don't know, narrate? or just..." your voice trails off, "just start?" he shrugs. "do whatever you would do when i wasn't here." you take a deep breath, "okay then." you start slow. spreading your legs and tracing your hands down your body. one hand stops at your breasts to squeeze one through your shirt and the other trails down between your legs.

you find your clit quickly and start making slow circles around it. the sensation is familiar, but it doesn't stop the small gasp that escapes your lips. your other hand wanders its way under your shirt, rolling the now stiff nipple between your fingers. as the pleasure you're giving yourself grows, your hands only get faster, more reckless.

the circles on your clit are no longer lazy and slow, but fast and concentrated directly over the sensitive area. the pinch of your nipple is teetering right on the pleasure/pain threshold, but hasn't quite crossed that line yet.

your eyes have fallen shut in the midst of all this. you crack them open just enough to see andrew. he hasn't moved. not an even an inch. his eyes shamelessly dividing their attention on your fingers between your legs, and the hand snaked under your shirt palming your breast.

you've yet to make any noise, safe from your heavy breathing, and pope has noticed.

your eyes fall shut again, then you feel his hand. rough against your leg. "come on, baby. wanna hear you." he squeezes at your thigh, gently massaging the flesh there.

you open your eyes again, giving him a smile before the hand under your shirt moves to search for the vibrator on the bed. you find it, and close your hand around it, bringing it between your legs. you click the small button until you find the setting you like, and move to press it onto your clit. your back arches off the bed at the new sensation, a proper moan leaving your lips this time.

"there we go, good girl." pope praises as the sinful noises falling from your lips continue. your other hand travels down your body from your chest to join the other between your legs, toying near your entrance and feeling the slick that's quite literally dripping out of you at this point.

you slide one finger inside yourself and your eyes cinch shut at the sensation, head rolling back into the pillows. "fuck," you breathe, your finger now fully inside, curling to try and knock against the spot that feels extra good.

(you never hit it as well as pope does though, no matter how hard you try.)

you press the vibrator harder against your clit and slide another finger inside, moaning loud at the exponential increase in pleasure. "thaaat's it, keep going for me baby, make yourself feel good," pope says, voice low. with both hands working you towards orgasm and pope talking you through it, you're tumbling closer to the edge by the second.

"i'm close," you breathe, "so fucking close, andrew, please." you're practically squirming now, fingers pumping in and out of yourself while the vibrator is unrelenting against your clit.

"come on baby, cum for me," andrew encourages, "show me how good you can make yourself feel"

and with that, you're coming undone. back arching further, eyes closing tighter, fingers curling deeper as you barrel towards your climax. "fuck," you catch yourself with a gasp, "oh my god, oh. my. god." your hands don't stop as you ride out the high, breaths heavy and laboured as you slowly bring your movements to a stop.

you open your eyes to andrew smirking down at you. "feel good?" he asks, cocky.

you nod. "not as good as you though." you smile, moving to sit up.

"where do you think you're going?" pope says, scooting over closer to you on the bed, pressing you by your shoulder back down into the mattress. you smile, "i was going to go to the bathroom... but i have a feeling that's not going to happen."

he shakes his head, smirk growing on his face. he tucks your hair behind your ear before he moves to position his head between your legs.

"now's my turn. show you how good i can make you feel." his voice is low as he presses your legs apart.

it's going to be a very long night.

i hope you enjoyed!!! as always send me any thoughts / ideas / requests you may have :P

#wow this is so filthy i need to be put down #pope calling you a good girl... [GUNSHOTS]#pope cody #andrew pope cody #andrew cody #animal kingdom #animal kingdom x reader #andrew pope cody x reader #andrew cody x reader #pope cody x reader #pope cody smut #shawn hatosy #pope cody blurb #pope cody drabble

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twovialsofamortentia · 3 months ago

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sneaking away with james when you’re short on time shows you how lucky you really are. ❤️‍🔥🪞

🎧 i was made for lovin’ you- kiss

warnings: smut 18+, MDNI, unprotected sex, dacryphillia (crying), rough sex, james being a sex god (canon), sirius having impeccable comedic timing, everyone is 18+, literally just porn with no plot. i didn’t even attempt plot. it’s just porn.

“Do we have time?” you asked sarcastically, angling your face towards the full length mirror so that you could see where you were shoving your earrings. Even so, you ended up just haphazardly stabbing your earlobes around the piercing, because you were distracted by the sight of James coming up behind you.

You were stood in the common room trying to smoke a cigarette, put your jewellery on and have a cup of tea all at the same time before you headed into Hogsmeade. The plan remained as it always was on a sunny Saturday- set up shop in The Three Broomsticks, and stay there until you tapped out, or one of the boys did something stupid and got you thrown out.

For the time being, however, James was ogling your reflection, and you could tell what he wanted by the way he was staring.

“I can make it work.”

“We have to leave in ten minutes.”

James laughed silently, his gaze locked onto the sight of you struggling with your earrings. He took another step towards you, reaching out to graze his right hand over your hip, pulling you back towards him.

"You don’t think I can make you feel good in ten minutes?” he mused, and you could hear the sarcasm oozing from his voice as he lowered his lips to your ear so no one else could hear. It was mostly unnecessary- sure, there were a few people on the other side of the common room; and Remus was sat in front of the fire trying to teach Sirius how to turn a green apple into a red one- but James was just doing it to tease you. Speeding up the process.

In his defence? It worked. You dragged James up the stairs to his empty dorm without another word.

He caught you around the waist as you both stumbled into the dorm, making sure to slam the door behind you before backing you up against it- a little warning to everyone else not to come in, since you’d both left your wands in the common room so you couldn’t lock the door.

“Get this fucking thing off of me.” you insisted, pulling aimlessly at your dress.

James reached down and grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him into a deep kiss, before running a hand up your back to drag the zip of your dress back down. Muggle clothes. James hated how complicated they were.

You wriggled hastily out of your dress and stepped out of it, leaving it in a heap on the floor as you walked James backwards towards his bed.

“Ten minutes,” you breathed as you walked slowly towards him, eyes fixed onto his as you unclipped your bra and threw it away onto the floor. “If you can make me come in ten minutes, I’ll fuck you in the bathroom of the pub.”

“Oh, fuck.” James groaned, pulling you down and kissing you again, hard, a hand snaking up into your hair, tugging gently (for now) at the roots. He trailed his lips lightly over your skin, kissing along your throat and collarbone.

He bit down in the place where your neck met your collar, and his hands gripped your thighs tight enough to leave fingertip bruises, holding you down as he snapped his hips up towards yours. You felt him through the fabric of your clothes- your underwear, James’ jeans, and the friction against your core was making you squirm.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, and you found yourself rushing to tear off any remaining clothes that were in your way. You couldn’t handle the feeling of being so close, yet so far, so you reached down to pull your underwear to one side, sinking down on top of James with a gasp.

“Fuck!” he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. His hands gripped your thighs for dear life as you slid down onto him, and he sucked in a sharp breath of air as he slipped smoothly inside you.

James kissed along your jaw, running his tongue along the soft skin. “S’ a good thing-” he gasped out as he felt you lift yourself up on his dick. “Good thing we’ve only got ten minutes,”

“Huh? Why?”

James’ breath was ragged, and he couldn’t help rocking his hips forward ever so slightly, the pressure driving him mad. It was taking all of his self-restraint not to just flip you face down and drill you into the bed.

“Cus I’m not gonna last long when you look like that.”

It was things like that which cemented your confidence in the fact that James could fuck you right in ten minutes. If he kept saying things so amazingly filthy to you, he could probably do it twice.

You let a breathy laugh escape you at his words, tilting your head to one side as you started to drive your hips back and forth. You draped one arm over James’ shoulder to steady yourself, palm splayed out against his back.

James groaned, loud and needy, his grip now on your hips, tight as a vice, as he helped to guide you down over him. His breathing was ragged, and his head fell backwards as he let out another strangled sound.

“Oh, love. So fucking-” James sighed, his hand tangling even further into your hair to pull your head back slightly. “-Fucking gorgeous. Feels so good.”

You knew James well. You always had. That meant you knew he had a habit of sneaking away with girls before you got together. You knew he was a flirt. That all he had to do was look at someone and they were folding for him. You knew that the things he said to you left you weak in the knees. You knew how other girls who had slept with him spoke about him.

You knew he could make you come, too. You knew that when James fucked you, it was sweet. Slow. Full of praises and tender kisses. And you still got off, first, every single time.

What you didn’t know, however, despite all evidence suggesting that you probably should have, was that when he wanted to, James fucked like a pornstar. You were just now finding that out.

“Fuck!” you gasped, leaning your head on James’ shoulder while he held your hips to guide you up and down. “Oh, fuck-”

He could feel himself coming apart underneath you, and he knew exactly what you were doing to him. James lifted his head up slightly, pulling his hand from your hips so that he could grip your chin, forcing you to look at him.

His gaze was intense, and he made sure to look into your eyes as he held your face, squishing your cheeks together.

“You’re so beautiful,” he told you, his voice gravelly. heavy. “So gorgeous, darling, you’re killing me.”

“Yeah,” you replied, although it came out as less of a question and more of an admission, but you didn’t really mind.

You’d had sex before, sure. You had fucked James before. So many times that you had lost count. This, however, was something else entirely. It was like you were finally realising why people fucked to release the tension between them.

You understood the saying, now, because you knew James loved you, deeply, but he was fucking you like he hated your guts.

James moved his hand from your jaw to your hair again, pulling you down and forcing your mouth against his, kissing you roughly. Hard enough to make your jaw ache. One of his hands slid down to wrap around your waist, holding you against him. He started jerking his hips up faster and harder, grinding into you in a way that was less like rolling his hips and more like trying to fuck up into you himself, so you didn’t have to do any of the work.

“James,” you hissed, feeling your resolve run further and further away from you, and you were out of breath from chasing it. “I can’t- please-“

Hearing you plead was almost his undoing, and James pulled away from your lips, moving on to your chest and running his tongue flat over your nipple, leaving his spit there. Just to make you shiver.

He nodded at your rambling, breathing heavily, the words falling out of his mouth coming out more like ragged moans. Like he was in pain, desperate for something. “Yeah, s’okay, darling, fuck-”

“Fuck, I can’t, I can’t, James I’m gonna- fuck!” you cried, finding yourself feeling less and less able to hold yourself up. You clung to James’ arms desperately, nails digging into his biceps and dropping your head forwards onto his shoulder again, breathing heavily against his skin.

“I know, I know,” he babbled, his words coming out in short, sharp gasps.

You were so overwhelmed that you felt your eyes sting with tears, something that had never happened before. You rambled incoherently, trying very hard not to scream considering you had no silencing charm.

James was still murmuring incorrectly, quiet and heavy into your shoulder. “Fuck, darling, angel, I love you.”

“I love you.” you echoed, looking down at James as you sat up straight, still teary from a combination of pleasure and exhaustion. Your vision was hazy, and so was your mind, clouded only with thoughts about how close you were. “I love you, I love you.”

James was breathless, and the way you looked at him, gazing down into his eyes as you rode him like a rodeo bull, was driving him insane.

His hands were on your hips again as he fucked faster up against you, and he felt like he’d never be close enough, no matter how deep of a spot he was hitting.

“Fuck,” he gasped out, and he could feel himself getting close. He reached down between the two of you and found your clit, rubbing circles over it with his thumb. “That’s it, fuck, m’gonna-”

As if you had been knocked unconscious, your vision went like static, and you had to bite down, hard, on James’ shoulder to stop yourself from screaming as you came.

Your legs twitched, and your hips stuttered forward as you cried into James’ shoulder. “Fuck!”

James’ jaw dropped as he watched you come undone on top of him, and that did it for him, too. He snapped his hips up against you once more, and you felt a rush of warmth shoot through you, making you twitch again. He panted your name a few times as he rode out his own orgasm. His entire body was trembling, and he almost couldn’t get his breath back.

James wasn’t sure he’d ever came so hard in his life.

It took a moment before he managed to get his bearings, lifting his head up to look at you, his eyes wide, like he was still trying to process what had just happened.

You looked like a mess, totally boneless, slumped against James, covered in bruises and your hair a complete bird’s nest, tears staining your cheeks.

“Oh, darling.” James said, voice hoarse as he reached up and tilted your face down to meet your gaze, studying your expression. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, reaching up to wipe your tears with the back of your hand, suddenly feeling very stupid for being fucked so hard that you cried. James didn’t think it was stupid. James thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

As soon as you had calmed down, you felt another jolt of adrenaline from the sound of someone pounding on the door.

“What are you doing to the poor girl in there, Prongs?!” came Sirius’ voice from the other side of the door. “We’re all waiting for you!”

James groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head against your chest. “Tell him to piss off,” he said, his voice muffled.

“James says piss off!”

“Is he holding you hostage or something?!”

“Piss off!” James called, flopping back onto the bed.

“Let down your hair out the window, love, someone’ll be up in a minute!”

#james potter #james potter smut #james potter x reader #marauders #dead wizards from the 70s #harry potter #marauders era #sirius black #remus lupin #the marauders #james potter x fem!reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #mwpp #prongs

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mickandmusings · 11 months ago

Text

hell or high water

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: lazy saturday nights with tyler were few and far between, especially during the spring months, when he and the wranglers found themselves hopping from one midwest city to the next. today the skies were uncharacteristically clear, and tyler wanted nothing more than to spend his night curled up next to his girl.

for the always lovely @fraaaaankiiiiieee , who always supports my delusional ideas <3

warnings: just fluff really, domestic life w/ tyler; situational angst, but no broken hearts in this one <3; some suggestively smutty moments but nothing explicit; inaccurate descriptions of tornadoes (i'm a mississippi girly, we don't even take shelter, we stand on our porches during tornadoes don't blame me); I wrote this at 2am, so forgive any weird inconsistencies or mistakes, thanks

The morning had been uncharacteristically quiet, almost eerily calm. Tyler had woken early, per usual, and rose to his feet, earning him a grumble from the girl who slept curled into his chest for warmth. He'd apologize with a cup of coffee later, knowing she wouldn't rise from her death-like sleep for a few more hours at the least.

He'd stumbled down the creaky stairs in only his boxers, starting the coffee machine immediately, and, as it dripped slowly, he used the downtime to stare out the window above his kitchen sink. The weather was perfect-the rising sun shining over the horizon made his view picturesque-almost like a painting in a frame. He enjoyed the view, but he knew the girl upstairs sleeping in his bed would enjoy it more: clear sky days like today meant she had him all to herself. He shook his head to a wasted day, but smiled despite himself. Tyler grabs his phone from where he'd tossed it on the kitchen counter, texting out a quick message to the Wranglers group chat:

'Nothing but clear skies on the radar, so enjoy your day off. Maybe use it to take a decent shower? Maybe wash some clothes? I'm talking to you Boone, you stink.'

The message stirred a frenzy of comments and replies from each of the members of his eclectic group, and he read through them as he sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter. He'd just sent a reaction to a particularly witty remark from Lilly when he felt something grab him from around his waist. He'd been so entranced with his stream of messages that he hadn't heard the pitter-patter of his girlfriend's footsteps down the hardwood stairs, or the yawn that had announced her presence.

"Mornin', beautiful."

Y/N simply gives him an unimpressed, tired grumble in response. She'd clad in one of his old sweatshirts, so well-worn that the neck of it is fraying. Her hair is knotted and messy from her sleep, and her eyes are barely opened. She finds Tyler's greeting ridiculous, but even in her half-dazed state, he finds the sight of her infinitely more breathtaking than the stunning vision mother nature had given him this morning.

Y/N shuffles in closer to him, burying her ice-cold nose into the crook of his neck, and he lets out a sound of discomfort when it hits his bare skin.

"Damn, you're freezin'!"

"Yeah, well, my personal heater likes to get up at the asscrack of dawn, and it's the only time I get to see him these days, so deal with it."

Tyler laughs, bringing his arms around her waist to keep her close.

"Lucky for you, sleeping beauty, the skies are clear for the foreseeable future, so today I'm all yours."

He feels her grin against his skin, and she nuzzles in a little closer. Her groggy morning voice speaks, muffled by her face being pressed against him:

"Then, Ty, my lovely, handsome, smart, sweet man-of-my-dreams...why the hell are we up at six in the goddamn morning?"

Her faux flattery oozes with sarcasm. He shakes his head silently, running a hand through her hair.

"I'll have you know I'm wide awake."

"Well, I'm not, and I never get to sleep in with you anymore. I want to go back to bed, and I want you there to keep me warm, please?"

She'd lifted her face to rest her chin on his chest, her big puppy-like eyes pleading up at him.

"Plus," she starts, bringing her gaze back down to his chest and placing a chaste kiss just below his collarbone. "We haven't had morning sex in like...weeks. Who knows what kind of mood I'll wake up in?"

She gives him a sly smile, and he cuts a knowing eyebrow lift her way. He knows all of her tactics, not that she needs them anyway, he'd never deny her.

"Fine, I'm sold." He lifts her into his arms, her legs around his torso as he carries her up the stairs. She gives him a sweet chuckle, hiding her red-flushed face into the side of his neck, his hands resting across her ass, unabashedly inappropriate.

He tosses himself onto the bed, her frame atop his.

"Promise to wake me up around, 9 or so? I don't want to sleep too much, or else I'll miss out on my whole day with you."

His chest warms as his hand runs through her hair, the other placed precariously on her opposite hip, tracing circles with his thumb.

"I will, cross my heart. Now, sleep, you're gonna need it," his voice deepens almost on command. "Once you're awake, you're all mine, darlin'."

His words drip with sensual flirtation as he places a kiss on the crown of her head. Y/N gives him a grin, her eyes drooping closed.

Hours later, after much needed sleep and a rather intense bout of love making, the couple stood exactly where they had just hours before. Tyler stood against the counter, watching as the new pot of coffee brewed. Y/N stood between his arms, her still slighty-sleepy eyes peering out at the sunny day from the kitchen window. Tyler's hand runs through her hair, his other perched on the small of her back, almost dangerously low, but she pays it no mind, too consumed at the pure joy of having him all to herself for the entirety of the day. It seemed silly, but she was rarely afforded this luxury during the spring and summer months.

He pulls away to pour coffee into two mugs on the counter, dousing one in sugar and creamer, the other plain black, the way he liked his. Y/N pays little attention when she reaches for a mug, and he goes to stop her, but the liquid reaches her taste buds before he can reach out for the cup in her hands. Her face wrinkles in disgust as she reaches for the other mug and swallows a sip.

"Jesus, that's vile, Ty. You're drinking straight lighter fluid."

"At least I'm drinkin' coffee, sweetheart. Yours is ten percent coffee, ninety percent other sugary shit."

She rolls her eyes and downs another sip, exhaling at the caffeine now starting to course through her system. She leans her head on his bicep, not wanting to be far from his touch. The pair relishes in the quiet morning, only the sounds of the morning birds and the occasional passerby car filling the air. The moment is so delicately peaceful that Y/N feels her eyes drift back into a hazy state, only awoken by Tyler's voice cutting off her brush with relaxation.

"There's no food in his house, wanted to make eggs this mornin', there isn't any. We don't have any bread, milk's gone bad. Think we finished off the last of the coffee, and you're almost out of that fancy creamer you like."

Y/N's mind instantly thinks of the nearly empty toothpaste tube she'd squeezed out the night before, and the lack of her favorite snacks in his cabinet.

"You up for a grocery run this early?"

He shrugs, giving an unbothered look.

"Get it over with early, don't have to worry about it for the rest of the day."

She nods, leaning back against him.

"Smart," she pauses, letting out a sigh. "Guess I should probably get dressed if that's the case."

Tyler looks down at the girl in his arms, clad in one of his shirts and nothing else. Desire swarms in his gut, and he found the desperate words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Or we could just order them online, pick them up later? We could order dinner from that place on the boulevard you love, get it all done in one trip? I'll go in, you stay in the truck, no getting dressed necessary."

She drops her now empty mug into the sink, wrapping her arms around his neck, brushing her hand across the hair on the nape of his neck. She leans in, pulling him into a rather heated kiss, one that leaves them both panting. She can taste the traces of his own black coffee, and she smiled against his lips before pulling away.

"You get hotter and hotter every time you open your mouth this morning. You've almost got me convinced just to go back to bed with you and ignore all of my other responsibilities..."

He gives her a smirk, shrugging and lifting a brow as his calloused hand sneaks under her his shirt, caressing the bare skin dangerously close to her chest.

"What'll it take to convince you completely?"

She cocks her head to the side, as if she was thinking.

"Hm, remember that thing you did on our third date?"

She doesn't even get a response before his lips are back on hers, his hand tapping her thigh, silently signaling her to wrap her legs around his waist. His half-finished coffee was forgotten, only the sounds of their shared pleasure and Y/N's occasional giggle bouncing off the walls.

As night falls, that same relative silence falls over the house. The lights are all out, save for the lamp in the corner of the living room and one of Y/N's scented candles lit on top of the fireplace. A commercial for an insurance company runs quietly in the background, an ad break from the rerun of 'The Notebook' he'd put on for Y/N just an hour ago. Takeout boxes and two empty beer bottles litter the coffee table in front of them, and the sound of light rain falling fills the unclaimed space in the room.

They're both still fresh from the shower they'd shared. His hair is still damp, smelling of Y/N's shampoo, and her skin smelling of his cypress and cedarwood scented body wash. Y/N had stilled within a half hour of placing her head in his lap, his comforting touch in her hair making it physically impossible for her to fight sleep. His hands tugged lightly at her half-dry hair, but his eyes are focused on the window facing his back yard.

Tyler can't help it, he's naturally drawn to the changes in wind speed and precipitation. He notes nothing serious-average wind speeds, steady, even-falling rain, and no hail. He relaxes a bit, watching as Noah and Allie argue on screen. Soon, his own jade eyes felt heavy. He blinks them back open, trying to savor every moment he has with the girl who's managed to make him fall more and more in love with her, even when she does nothing at all.

He manages to stay awake for the rest of the movie, but as the credits roll across the screen, he finds sleep starting to win against him. Just as his hands stop the movement in her hair, a loud blare comes from the once quiet television, startling him awake, his leg jerking in reaction. In turn, it startles the sleeping girl in his lap, her head shifting as she rubs at her bleary eyes.

The three short tones followed by one long tone has him all but springing into action, sitting up straight on the couch, holding the shoulders of the girl still not nearly awake to understand what was happening.

"The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for the following counties..."

Tyler had tuned it out, he knew the rest. His eyes darted to the window again, and now, through the rain he could see exactly what he'd feared-a strike of lightning before a rumbling roar of thunder. He watches as the wind blows the flag in his yard, trees blowing furiously in the wind. It was mild now, but Tyler had seen the calm before the storm too many times to take chances. He quickly grabs both of their phones from the table and shoves them into his pockets. Y/N had already plopped back down onto the couch pillow, her eyes closed. He sighs and contemplates waking her up, but as the roaring of wind like a freight train fills his ears, he realizes he doesn't have the time. Instead, he scoops her into his arms-blanket and all-and simply bolts them out the door.

The second he hits the steps of the porch, he's never been more glad he'd moved so quickly. The wind is whipping around him fiercely, and the sound of hail knocking shingles off his roof sends his feet moving faster. The entrance to his storm shelter is in clear view, and he speaks down to the girl in his arms, speaking loudly over the noise of the inclement weather.

"I'm gonna take us to the storm shelter, okay? You're gonna get in first and I'm gonna be right behind you, baby, gotta make sure that door shuts, alright?"

Y/N nods in understanding, despite how her eyes are still laced with sleep. He stands her in front of him on solid ground, slinging open the heavy door with a grunt. He lightly shovels her down the steps, seeing that she's completely in before stepping in himself. It takes his full body force to get it shut, slamming the latch down tightly. He takes a moment to sit on the steps, hearing the pelting of hail and the loud winds before he springs into action again. He moves to switch on the small lights in the tiny room, now getting a good look at the girl sitting just across from him.

She looks incredibly small, curled into her favorite blanket from their couch, his own hoodie she'd claimed as her own peeking through. He worries that she's scared, and his heart pangs as he crosses over to her. Wordlessly, he pulls her into his lap, fishing his own phone out in hopes of firstly, pulling up live updates on the storm, and secondly, contacting the rest of the Wranglers, making sure his chosen family was safe. He gets the broadcast up first, a slew of messages from his friends ensuring him of their safety. He sends them back one confirming both his and Y/N's safety before setting it back down against the wall and the floor.

"Hey, you're okay, I promise," he reassured her, his arm slung around her and resting on her waist. She gives him a small smile, brushing a tuft of hair behind his ear. Chasing had been busy lately, and he hadn't stopped for a trim lately. She wasn't complaining, she liked running her hands through the longer locks.

"I know. I'm not scared, Ty," she gives a small laugh, the look behind her eyes reassuring him she was fine. He pulls her closer to him, placing a kiss against the crown of her head.

"Brave girl."

She shakes her head in disagreement.

"I'm not brave, I'd be scared shitless if you weren't here. But you are, so I know I'm safe. You'd never let anything happen to me, mother nature be damned."

He gives a loud laugh that bounces off the walls of their shelter, making Y/N break out into her own smile. She turns her attention to the map on Tyler's phone.

"So what're they saying?"

He pulls his phone closer, a map of colors and city names she recognizes in front of her. His finger points to their town name.

"There's us," He pauses, moving his finger to a patch of dark pink. Y/N looks at the key on the side, noting that the color indicated an 'extreme' threat. "And that's the path of the tornado happenin' above us right now, most likely."

"So," she pauses, looking up at him. "In your professional Tornado Wrangler opinion, how fucked are we?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Survival wise? I know we'll be fine, we're perfectly safe. Damage wise? Well, my roof needed replacin' anyways."

"What about the others? Have you heard from them? I imagine Boone is losing it."

Tyler brushes hair out of her face and behind her ear.

"They're all in a safe spot, just heard from them all. Don't worry that pretty head of yours about a thing, let me take care of it."

Another roll of loud winds roar overhead, and both Y/N and Tyler dart their eyes to the ceiling. She tucks her head into Tyler's neck, and his arms pull her tighter into his embrace.

"Okay," she starts, her voice small. "So maybe I'm a little scared...I don't see how you're always out there in all this, it's terrifying, Ty."

He wants to reply back, tell her about the rush of a storm, or the feeling of being right there next to it in the moment, but the storms he chased weren’t like the one happening literal feet above their heads. He remains quiet, his hand moving back to her hair, stroking the strands in a gentle motion, providing comfort for her. She’s quiet for a moment, listening to the howling winds and the shaking of the thunderous movements.

“T-Tyler?” There’s a tremble in her voice, and he notes how she’s starting to shake in his hold. “Can you tell me a story? Talk, just keep me distracted, please. Having a full blown panic attack in this box doesn’t sound fun.”

He continues the comforting touch to her head, pulling her in closer to the side of his neck, his opposite arm around her waist.

“Hey, no, no, none of that, you’re gonna be fine. We’re okay, I got you. A story? Um…”

He thinks for a second, until the perfect idea comes to his mind.

“Alright, got one, gonna tell you your favorite story. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

His voice takes on a humorous tone, recounting the plot of ‘A New Hope’ from memory. The rumble of his timbre in her ear-paired with him intentionally making up his own scenarios when he forgot plot points-worked effectively in blocking out the deafening noises above. After a handful of minutes, the noise stilled, and Y/N sat with shaking hands as Tyler popped back open the door. He looked around for a moment, making sure the sky was clear before helping her back on solid ground.

Shingles had fallen from his roof, and branches from trees had been strewn across his yard. Just across the clearing, in an empty field, a massive tree had fallen. Tyler grasped her hand tightly as they walked back inside, their power out, but the home unharmed. Once he determined they were completely safe, he wordlessly led them back to his bedroom, tucking Y/N safely under his chin, close to his heart. He didn’t sleep, his brain wide awake in fear that another storm would come and he’d be unprepared. Instead he watched her sleep, watching as her breaths moved in and out, content in knowing she felt safe in his arms.

Tomorrow, they’d venture into town with Boone and Lilly in the back of his truck, Dexter and Dani behind them, all looking out at the disaster that riddled their small community. They’d spend their day passing out food and water, looking for missing pets in rubble, and helping scour collapsed houses for salvageable items for families to hold onto. He’d look on as Y/N helped comfort elderly citizens of their community and laughed with children who had lost their everything, including their innocence. She’d be silent on the way home, and collapse into his arms once they made it through the front door. Her eyes would fill with tears of guilt that she couldn’t do more for every person she'd seen and talked to. He’d hold her just like he was now, hands in her hair and sweet nothings in her ears.

But tonight, he holds her in his arms tightly, thanking mother nature for sparing not only them, but his home too. After his thanks, he issues her a warning: come hell or high water, he’d stop at nothing to protect the girl in his arms-mother nature be damned.

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@fanboysfangirl

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens #tyler owens twisters #twisters #glen powell x you #glen powell x reader #request #tyler owens x you #tyler twisters

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kingkatsuki · 1 year ago

Text

— twist of fate

This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, marked on your calendar for the best part of a year and the start of a beautiful future. You’d met the love of your life, the man you were going to marry and grow old with, and you’d made it through navigating the torturous dating scene. The awkward first dates and first kiss, and the first ‘I love yous’, and yet here you were drinking on a rooftop with the Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight.

I promised I’d post some more Bakugou cause it has been a little while and I do miss him! I actually wrote this for his birthday, but then I ended up posting the collab fic instead so I never got to write the smut part but I hope someone enjoys it anyway.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Warnings: breakups (not with Bakugou), mutual comfort, alcohol.

Word Count: 1.8k.

I love you— what a big fucking lie.

You scoffed as you took a large gulp from the champagne bottle you were holding, grabbed from the bar at your now abandoned reception as you looked out at the view of Musutafu at night. The viewing point was somewhere you used to visit with your fiance, and to think it was the first place you’d decided to go when you found out he’d left you at the altar was borderline morbid. But considering your perfect life had now crumbled around you, you could forgive yourself for the psychological torment.

Kicking your heels off as your feet began to ache, letting them drop to the floor as you swung your legs over the ledge. Your mothers voice ringing in your ears as you sat on the grass, “Your pretty dress is ruined!” Not that you’d have any use for it now, your perfect life was pretty much gone.

“You know how dangerous it is drinkin’ so close to the edge?” You rolled your eyes in irritation at the sound, turning your head ready to shot some expletives in their direction before your words caught at the back of your throat.

You had to do a double take to make sure you were actually seeing what you were seeing, and that you weren’t this inhibriated already. The Number Two Pro-Hero Dynamight stood a few feet away, arms crossed with his face set in a a heavy glare. But he didn’t appear to have his gauntlets with him, even though his belt was still full of grenades and his mask sat over his eyes. Instead he was covered in a thick black hoodie that was zipped to cover the garish orange X that splashed across his chest.

“Well it must be my lucky night, I’ve got a Pro-Hero here to save me.” Sarcasm oozed through your tone as you held your large bottle up in a mock cheers to the Number Two hero that had appeared over the hill.

Besides the randy teenagers that used to frequent the area to make out and get high, this side of Musutafu was usually pretty abandoned so you were disappointed to see you were no longer alone.

“I’m off the clock, sweetheart.” He sneered back, shaking his head, “And I shouldn’t have to waste my time saving stupid people like you.”

“So don’t save me then,” You shrugged, turning back to face the city as the sun slowly fell over the horizon.

You expected him to walk away and leave you there, probably on a patrol to catch the kids that used the area to get high. But what you didn’t expect is for him to take a seat in the dirty grass beside you.

“Thought you couldn’t waste your time.”

“How’s it gonna look if I see your face all over the papers tomorrow with my face under it sayin’ I should’a saved you?”

You turned to face him, noticing the dark rings of charcoal around his eyes filled in from where his mask sat. A three-day strubble cast a shadow across his jawline and you had to take another sip of champagne to pull your attention away.

“I didn’t think you cared what the media said about you, Dynamight.” You laughed, remembering a post you’d seen online earlier that month where he’d shoved a reporter to the ground at the scene of a crime and broke his camera.

“I don’t.” He scoffs, “But I ain’t a total fucking asshole.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” You laugh, gulping another mouthful of champagne as you look down at the city lights below, “You make it your business to go around breaking cameras?”

“Very fuckin’ funny.” Bakugou sneers, “That guy deserved it. Tryin’ to take pictures in the middle of a fight— he’s lucky I saved him or he’d have come out far worse than his shitty camera.”

“Wow, you’re a real hero, Dynamight.” You teased back.

“So you gonna explain why you’re up here in—”

“Oh, why am I wearing a wedding dress and drinking alone?” You smiled bitterly, shaking your head. “My fiancé decided to stick his dick into my best friend.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened beneath this mask at the blunt statement before he shook his head, keeping his attention ahead to the bright lights in front of you.

“Shit.” He muttered beneath his breath.

You scoff, taking another swig of champagne, “So I guess you could say I’m celebrating.”

“That’s rough.” He reached up to scratch at his stubble before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“So why are you up here, Mr Number Two?” You smile, “Not got any babies to save from burning buildings? Or camera men to hit—”

“Shut the fuck up.” He scoffed, his nose scrunched in irritation before his face paled.

You thought perhaps he might get up and leave after your bold question but instead he sniffed, using the outside of his wrist to rub his nose before looking across at the city.

“A villain attacked a building just outside Musutafu tonight,” He muttered hoarsely, “I didn’t get there in time.”

“Shit— I’m so sorry,” You immediately stammered, feeling like such an asshole. Your problems were miniscule in proportion to this, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine,” He shakes his head, “I would’a never made it, but it still fuckin’ sucks, you know?”

“Yeah,” You murmured back. How could you even comfort someone for something like that? There weren’t enough words in the world that would convey the empathy you felt for him, and the victims.

“I just needed to get away for a bit.” He rasped.

“Me too,” You smiled, “I was sick of everyone looking at me with pity.”

Your family and bridesmaids had been suffocating after it happened, pulling you into their arms and drowning you in faux sympathy.

“Oh my god, I couldn’t imagine that ever happening to me.”

“It’s okay you’re such a strong person, you can do so much better.”

“If my husband ever did this I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m glad this came out now and not at my wedding.”

“Such a waste of a pretty dress.”

It was all the same bullshit as you listened to your friends slowly start to make it about themselves while your world crumbled down around you— So you left, thankful you hadn’t bothered to bring your phone as you were left to your own devices.

You offer the champagne bottle out to Bakugou as he stared down at it for a moment before taking it. Adjusting it in one large fist around the base of it before taking a large swig.

“If it means anything, it seems like he’s the fuckin’ idiot for cheating on you.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he passed the bottle back, “Only a real piece of shit leaves his missus on her wedding day.”

His words still managed to have your heart fluttering. You weren’t naive, you knew he was only trying to be nice, especially when thick black lines of eyeliner and mascara smudged in tear stains down your cheeks. Your lipstick faded around your lips and stuck to the neck of your champagne bottle, and your hair was now a complete mess from where you’d ripped out your veil, and still he managed to have you smiling as you couldnt stop the grin that spread across your cheeks.

“How long were they fuckin’?” He asked, and you appreciated the bluntness of it.

“Six months,” You shook your head, “Apparently they got close planning the wedding.”

“Shit, that’s fucked up.” He shook his head, reaching back for the champagne bottle as you watched him take another drink. Certain your lipstick was pressed against his chapped lips now as you shared the same bottle.

“Yep,” You rolled the ‘p’, “And apparently he spent the night with her after the rehearsal too,” You sighed, “I just can’t believe I didn’t see the signs.”

“Ain’t any of this that’s your fault,” He shook his head, taking another swig of champagne before handing the bottle back to you, “And thinkin’ like that will eat you up inside.”

“Could say the same thing to you, Dynamight.”

“I didn’t say it didn’t suck,” He shook his head, “And call me Bakugou, I ain’t workin’.”

“I’m glad to hear the Number Two hero doesn’t drink on the job— fuck.”

You shivered as a gust of wind swirled through the vantage point, reminding you of your outfit as you’d left the venue without a suitable coat. Hugging your arms around your body to try and stop your teeth from chattering as you drank more champagne, hoping the alcohol would warm your veins.

You heard a zip to the side of you and before you could object, Bakugou was shrugging his hoodie off to wrap it around your bare shoulders.

“Don’t worry about me, you’ll get cold—”

“Shaddup,” He cut you off, taking the champagne bottle back off you so that you could slip your hands through the arms, “Just take it, woman.”

You were immediately surrounded by warmth, his body heat still radiated from the fabric as you breathed in the scent of him. A mixture of ash, smoke and cologne as you pulled it tighter around your frame.

Bakugou pulled his hero mask up over his eyes to let it sit on his forehead, his messy hair now spiking upwards as he rubbed his eyes with the ball of his palm. The dark eyeliner around them smearing against his skin as he breathed a relaxed sigh, taking another drink as he turned his attention back to the view in front of him.

“You’re quite pretty actually,” You smiled at him, “The media always get you pulling the ugliest faces.”

“Hah?” He turned to you with a raised brow, his nose scrunched in irritation, “That’s still my fuckin’ face you know.

“Yeah, and I’m saying it’s really pretty.” You definitely blamed the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you this level of confidence, certain the words would never have left your lips if you were sober.

“I ain’t ever been called pretty before.” He scoffed.

“I dunno why not— because it’s true.” You smiled.

“I ain’t the pretty one out of us two, sweetheart. Trust me.”

#Bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou x reader #Bakugou Katsuki x reader #MHA x reader #bnha x reader

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