#Drabble au

[searsage]

You hate how desperate you feel, the others have started to notice the way you fidgit and pace in this small cramped camp, its safe..safer then anywhere you've laid your head in the past sevral months but…

You find yourself waiting, trapped within a perpetual loop of optimistically hopeing that he came to reason and turned around, only to realize he left for a deliberate reason.

Felwinter explicitly stated he had no intentions of returning and not to follow him, despite all that you've been through together, and yet you find yourself stupidly waiting for the man to return, refusing to face the fact that the soldier simply slipped through your fingers…

Surely he sought sanctuary the same way you had, why else would he follow you all the way here only to abandon you.

What about Shaxx? What about you?!

Were you so desperate for validation that you threw your pathetic heart into a confusing mess that was only intended to be a past time…?

You want to talk to him…but the commander hasn't said much to you in the presence of your people, and even less once Felwinter deserted the group, no he's been far too busy debriefing soldiers and arranging extraction for the refugees.

Your certain he can feel your gaze, yet he studiously casts his attention elsewhere, only further solidifying that creeping suspicion, the fear what happend meant nothing…of course it did…

You turn, fully intending to share a exasperated comment regarding their apparent lack of order with Skorri, only to abort the habitual action, a sickening pain filling your stomach as you recall her crippled body shambling towerds you.

The creeping obsidian pulsating within her veins, the desaturated eyes hungerly seeking you out..

Her death, It still feels unreal, yet so painfully raw.

There was nothing to be done, your only thankful Felwinter put of her misery first, a task you would never have had the strength to do yourself..

The cup of stale ramen clapsed in your shaking hands suddenly does little to appeal to your rapidly dwindling apitite and you find yourself passing the remainder of the ration off to someone else before rolling over to sleep.

You spot Radaghast hovering accross the room, watching you, his weary tired eyes filled with questions, but you simply look away, ignoring the guilt festering within your chest, you have little answers to his silent inquires..

But still, you owe him explanation all the same, you feel bad, the two of you haven't had much space or time to grieve or talk, not about you abandoning them, and not about Skorri's death by his blind choices, it wasn't his fault, but you've yet to tell him this.

You should talk to him…perhaps after they finally get you all to safety..safety, an almost outlandish hope after months trapped in thia damned city, even now this little reprieve feels like a fever dream, a pause before the other shoe drops, this feeling hasn't left you not since Felwinter left, and not since you stepped foot within the boarded up walls of this camp..

This all feels like a mistake…

Your fears are only confirmed hours later, when a strong hand wakes you, months of light sleeping hes have your eyes snapping open, body jolting to attention the second the commander's glove brushes over your blanket, sharp eyes flckering to the windows, then doors, searching for signs of a breach that wasn't there..

"Its safe, calm down." Shaxx ordered, pointing out Arcite at the far end of the room, the soldier was proped against the boarded windows scanning the streets below, Dahlia his position on the opposite side of the base, Rifle resting ready against her proped thigh.

"They won't get past my jacks without us knowing first, come walk with me, I need to talk with you."

He's still in his tacticle gear, and that stupid helmit renders it impossible to read his expression, but his voice…

There is a malencholly weight to it, one that unsettles you, painful cramps twist yoyr gutt as anxiety blooms within your chest, ripping off the thin blanket you hurry to your feet to follow after the commander.

Shaxx leads you into a room guarded by two other soldiers who silently shut the door behind you, inside a radio and tactical equipment rests strewn about the table atop a tattered and stained map of the surrounding city.

There is an awkward silence as the commander lights a cigar, partially lifting his helmet to drag before exhaling with a heavy sigh before he looks to you..

"I was wrong."

"Wrong..about what..? Is there another delay?" A delay would be ideal at least over the less favorable alternatives…

"The evacuation team isn't coming, higer ups decided letting potentially infected citizens leave the quarantine zone, posed too much of a liability, and now they want to wash their hands of it all.."

"What!? Liability..?"

"What part don't you understand Timur, they have ordered us to cleanse this city, exterminate any lifeform we encounter, starting with the refugees."

"T-They want you to kill us..?!"

"Yes, But I won't, we were sent here with the orders to save people, and I'll be damned if we raise our guns against innocent civilians."

"We aren't safe here then…"

"No, you are not, that's why im giving you a head start, Timur you are smart, take the others and find somewhere safe…find Felwinter, my men and I will lead any reinforcements in the opposite direction, it'll give you time, but that's all I can guarantee…"

"It'll have to be enough, yet i can't help but wonder why they are doing all this, why bother in the first place.."

"Pressure, they've ignored this problem for a long time, imagine what will happen when the press discovers they simply left civilians to their deaths, it's been months they didn't expect to find anyone alive here…not truely."

"So it's not about the infection, or probable contamination, they simply want to wash their hands of this, all while claiming they actually gave a damn about the people they left to their death.."

"They want no witnesses Timur, and if it means they have to kill a few survivors the world has already forgotten about they wont hesitate to silence those liabilities, but we wont let that happen so easily.

"When should we leave..?"

"Sunrise, the lost are too active right now, also.."

"Hm..?"

"I was hoping you'd spend the night, in here with me, not the most comfortable of arrangements but im certain we wont be disturbed."

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna if you can sleep with him because you’re scared

“no.”

the door slams in your face, grazing your nose ever so slightly. you don’t know what you were expecting when you knocked at 2am — maybe you weren’t thinking at all. the booming thunder outside was dizzying and your feet raced you out of your room and down the hall in record speed before you could even process the rattling of your bones. 

you knock again. the door swings open. he is not happy. 

sukuna��s sporting a scowl, piercings glinting from the hallway light, as he glares down at you. he’s shirtless and wearing boxers that hang low on his hips, revealing sharp angles and thick lines of ink. on any other occasion, you would have swooned to yourself but now’s not the time. 

“please, s’kuna. i can’t sleep on my own like this.”

his brow quirks up. “and that’s my problem because?”

fuck. 

he’s not listening. you can’t even blame him — it’s late and he’s already warned you he’s not the sweet type, that you shouldn’t treat him like a boyfriend, and he doesn’t cuddle so unless you’re up for spreading your legs, you should keep your distance. but you thought since you guys have been having dinner together, going out for errands, and even building inside jokes that he might feel inclined to do you a little favour. 

“y-yeah, you’re right. sorry.” you jolt when the next rumble sends the apartment swaying. “oh! fuck. just…sorry. night.”

scrambling back, you clutch yourself tight, resenting the shudders running through you, like the storm has wormed its way in and is eating you from the inside. 

“ah!”

two huge arms wrap around you, lifting you up, back, and tossing you onto a bed. you bounce once. twice. sukuna makes an exasperated noise and runs his hand through his hair. “you’re an annoying little shit. you better not snore or i’m kicking you out.”

then, he’s climbing in behind you, lying on his stomach, faced buried in his pillow and paying you no mind. you’re in his bed like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like you’ve been here before and will be again. it did occur to you that things might get awkward, but the way he’s not even the slightest bit tense and letting you hike up the covers over both of you even though he runs hot tells a different story. 

minutes pass by, you still can’t sleep. the storm is suffocating. just as your eyes flutter shut, a flash of lightning breaches the blanket of his curtains and a fierce roaring follows shortly after, shaking the bed frame. shit.

“quit shivering. can’t fucking sleep when you’re on vibration mode.”

“sorry.”

he opens one eye to judge you. “you scared of a little thunder? embarrassing.”

“yeah.”

grunting, he mutters something, as if scolding himself and throws an arm around you. sukuna rolls you two over so he’s on his back and you’re on his chest. he’s warm and hardened with muscles, yet you melt into him as if he’s a teddy bear. he smells nice too. 

you’re rendered confused, unable to reconcile his actions with the relevance to anything that had transpired in the last ten minutes. but…you hear it. or rather, you don’t. his body is shielding you from the sounds outside, distracting your senses with the feel of him, bare, against you. the thunders are washed away by the beating of something inside his chest.

quietly, you quip, feeling the need to cover up the heat rising to your cheeks, “i didn’t know you had a heart.”

sukuna scoffs. “yeah, neither. now shut up, don’t want to deal with your grumpy ass in the morning.”

maybe you are closer than you thought. though you won’t bring that up to him, knowing how defensive he gets. unspoken and subtle, you’re content with the way he shows his loyalty. it’s sincere and consistent and that’s all that matters.

so, you find yourself falling asleep dreaming of a fire engulfing you, drowning all else away, and laying a gentle kiss on your head. 

[xplicitviewz]

“Who’s calling?” Your husband, Nanami, huffs from above you, his hips snapping into you. Your teary eyes glance at your phone while you let out small whimpers. “I-it’s our son.” You breathe out, your thighs tremble beneath his hands holding them down beside you.

Nanami groans and stuffs his dick fully into you, a whine escaping your lips as he picks up the phone. Between his work schedule and your 4 kids, there isn’t time for you and your husband to partake in a your shared activities other than the few times you guys got creative.

There was this one time you guys had your oldest watch the kids while you guys went to the pharmacy to pick up some medicine, which ended in a quickie in the dark parking lot before heading home.

Or the other time you guys had a pool day and you went inside to start getting the snacks ready. Nanami followed shortly after to have himself his own quick snack. Both of your days are pretty busy, but Nanami never fails to make some time for you and your pussy. You can admit sex hasn’t really been a priority, until tonight. Upon realizing all the kids would be gone, you immediately called Nanami to be sure he brings his ass home when he is off and not do any overtime- yes you used your mom voice too. Nanami agreed not wanting to be scolded.

When he did get home, he noticed a few things, there was any tv on, or music blasting from your two oldest rooms. There weren’t toys scattered in the living room or the dining room table from your two youngest, no yelling or screaming from all of them in general, it was just quiet. He smelt food in the air, he usually does every night he comes home but it’d be already eaten, or everyone will be eating at the dinner table (he insists not to wait for him because he often stays late) but since he left early from work, it isn’t ready just yet. He quickly rushes up the stairs, starting to feel the panic seep in just a bit, all the kids rooms are empty.

He opens his shared bedroom to see you just laying on your stomach, in the silky robe he got you, reading a book. He calms down because if you were okay, surely, the kids were too. His eyes gaze down your figure, your feet are in the air crossed, while you read. The robe sits at your upper thigh, and since it’s so thin, your ass pops out in the most desirable way possible. “Honey?” He eyes you suspiciously, taking a breath as he starts to settle down, “Where are the kids.”

You heard the front door shut, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the arousal hit you even more. The book you have been reading had been in your mind, and hearing your husband come home really made you ready to take him, full. You had dinner cooking in the oven, almost ready to serve for just Nanami and you. Your oldest son is at a movie with his friends and they are going to go eat after. Your second oldest daughter is spending the night with her best friend, and your two youngest are sleeping over with their grandparents. To say you were practically rushing your oldest son to leave already, since he was the last one to go, was an understatement.

“They are busy and safe.” You closed the book and turn your body towards him, your eyes hungry before you looked at him, but damn near starving when you did. That damn suit and tie. You explained where they all were as you sat up in the bed, impulsively pushing your chest out as you leaned back on your arms. Nanami didn’t ignore the lustful look in your eye, the way your nipples perked against the thin fabric, only assuming you had nothing on underneath. He quickly put a few things together, why you called him to not do overtime. He knew what his wife wanted, at least he thought so.

When your sweet loving husband started off kissing your neck, waiting to use the few hours to just worship your body, you, your hands cupped his chin and looked him dead in the eye, “Honey, I love you so much and I know that you do but tonight-right now I need you to fuck me like you don’t. I want y-“ His eyes darkens more at your plea, how desperate you were truly. How can he ever say no to his gorgeous wife. He cuts you off with a kiss before he started fucking you every way loose. Yes exactly what I said. But of course no matter what time it is, you guys are parents after all….

“What?” Nanami answers the call, still buried deep inside you, grinding against you as his thumb circles your clit.

“..Oh Hey dad, where’s mo-“

“She’s busy, are you okay, why are you blowing up her phone?” Nanami cuts your son off, his eyes focused on you squirming around, biting your lip to keep any lewd sounds hushed while he was on the phone with your son. He speeds up his movements on your clit, softly sucking in a breath when you clench tightly around his dick.

“I wanna buy some snacks and get some food after the movie, mom said she’ll send me m-“

“How much?” Nanami asked wanting him to get to the point so he can get back to his wife. He slowly pulling out before pushing himself back in. Your hand quickly covers your mouth as you shut your eyes. Your legs were shaking crazy. Your husband wasn’t one to always be rough in bed, but the times he is, you would feel it for days, in the best way possible. (He has that dog in him😞) Nanami definitely isn’t holding back, not when it’s been this long you guys were kid free for a few hours and together at that. Nanami was making up for lost time, fingering you until you couldn’t talk properly, eating your pussy like it personally offended him, fucking you left, right, up, down, diagonal, all up until your phone kept blowing up.

“Like about $40.”

“Okay, give me a moment.” Nanami grunts, as he bottoms out again, the way you squeezed his dick nearly knocked him out cold. He feels his dick throb inside you and pulls the phone away from his ear, breathing heavy.

“Thanks d-“

Nanami hangs up the phone and tosses it beside you before leaning in closer to you, peeling your hand away from your mouth and pulling it above your head. “Tell me something honey.” He hums kissing your swollen lips.

You whimper as he fucks you again, slow but rough this time, ”y-yes?” You gasp as he hits your cervix.

“When the kids ask for money, do you send it to them from my account?” He looks into your eyes, sweat dripping down his head watching your reaction to his question really his dick.

You’re screwed. Both literally and physically.

“Not alwa- o-ooh shit.” You moan, his hips moving faster than light. Nanami absolutely hates when you use your own money, hell, even when you were working. When you guys first started dating he already knew you were going to be his wife. Nanami would always say you didn’t need to work but you didn’t want him to be the sole provider. Eventually, you guys moved in together and you were still working. Though, he convinced you to work less hours and took you out on a date when you agreed. It wasn’t until you got pregnant with your first baby, did his wish come true. Shit, he was more excited when you both went down to your job to quit than he was to see the 2 pink lines.

“All the hours I work, being kept away from our family, my perfect wife -ngghh- my perfect wife’s pussy. And you still insist on usi-fuck- using your own money when you have access to my money- no our money, shit your money.” He moans grabbing your other hand and pulling it above your head with your other.

“Y-you pay for e-ever-“

“I’m supposed to baby. I want to.” He interrupts you, lifting your legs to his shoulders, and grabbing your phone with his free hand and sending your son $100 from his account. “Why must you make things complicated, love. I am the man, it’s my job to take care of you, our family. Let *thrust* me. Use my money for the kids, the house, the cars, whatever it is, I have enough, more than.” He kisses your lips softly, opposite to his thrusts. “Use your money I give you for you, whatever you want for you- shit for you. Everything I do is for you, everything I make, it’s yours, ours on paper, but it’s all yours. All for you.” He grunts into your ear, as if he’s teaching a lesson. Technically, he is.

“Don’t let me find out you aren’t using my money first again, okay hun?” He hums at you, a moaning teary mess.

“Now where were we?” He smiles before pulling out and flipping you on your stomach, lifting your ass up and spanking it. “Oh, right.” He chuckles as he spreads your cheeks apart, seeing your drooling sensitive pussy, clenching on air.

*edited but not proofread*

More:

Pussywhipped!Choso | part 2

Married!Eren x Maid!Reader

Ex-husband!Eren

Sylus mini

Nerd!Armin x reader x boyfriend!eren

Best friend!jean x reader

[lustjunkiie]

i have baby fever so…

Single Dad!Simon Riley whose daughter is so sweet.

You, a sweet and humble hairdresser in your salon which you’ve bought and built from the ground yourself, having a walk-in appointment with a 6’4” hulking man, and his most precious angel. A black surgical mask covering his jaw, mouth and nose.

His little angel, who you learn to be Amelia, climbs into your chair with the cutest grunts of struggle and eventually a triumphant sigh. Her dad, in his effortlessly silky, gruff voice, explains that her hair is now down to her knees practically and he needs help. Her mother left when she was young and he’s only ever had one brother.

You chuckle softly and nod, and his daughter looks up at you after you explain that you’ll be trimming her gorgeous hair and demonstrating some simple braiding techniques to her father, and in the tiniest, cutest little Londoner accent:

“Thank you for helping my Daddy.” You nearly burst into tears at her shining hazel eyes and her big, toothy smile. You nod and begin sectioning her hair after placing a pink apron over her front. She beams to her Dad, “Look! She gave me pink!” He laughs and his eyes shine with pride. She’s so good at communicating, even though she barely looks five. She’s so adorably tiny, too.

At the end of the appointment, Simon has learned three different braid styles. He’s a natural, you assure him. You curl his daughter’s hair just before she leaves, and she does a little dance around the place in her princess dress. Her dad picks her up, and he smiles at you. Thanking you in that knee-weakening voice of his. He promises he’ll be back with any hair concerns, and he even tips you extra.

Before he leaves, his daughter points at you and asks if he can take you home. He responds, without missing a damn beat:

“Mm, only if she wants to come home with us.” He winks at you for good measure.

You think that maybe that idea isn’t so bad.

[anglbunny]

NUDES

♡. choso unexpectantly sends you nudes, college!au, nudes

Your phone buzzes at exactly 12:47 AM.

Choso: u up?

You smirk.

You: always. why?

Choso: i wanna show u something.. don’t laugh.

You: now i’m definitely laughing

Before you can tease him again, another text comes through.

An image.

You pause.

It’s… his hand. Holding himself. Well, holding himself over his sweats.

No face. No caption. Just him — stretched in a pair of gray sweats, thick and obviously not soft, the outline straining where his hand’s trying to cover it.

And failing.

Because he’s huge. Even when he's covered.

Your jaw drops.

Before you can even react, he sends a message

Choso: fuck. i shouldn’t have.

Choso: sorry if that was weird

Choso: u looked rly good earlier and i couldn’t stop thinking abt it...

Your heart stutters.

That hoodie you wore in lecture today. The one that was a little too off-the-shoulder. He was staring the entire time.

You bite your lip, grinning like a devil.

You: …holy shit, choso

You: you’re seriously holding back on me like that?

Choso: haha

Choso: i thought it’d scare u off ngl

You: scare me off? choso, i’ve been wondering what it looked like for weeks

You: and now that i know? i want more.

There’s a pause.

And then—another pic.

Lower angle. This time without the sweats. His hand’s still there, but it’s not enough. He’s flushed pink at the tip, thick veins running up the side. Big enough that it looks almost unreal in his grip.

Your stomach flips.

Choso: now ur definitely gonna ghost me

You grin.

You: no, baby.

You: i’m gonna ride you.

Seen.

Typing…

Stopped.

Typing again.

Choso: i’m free tmr. just saying.

TL: @samm1e13 @syleepy @werfiedeii @mikemsmm @yanderebluelockfan @cyberheartrebel @arwawawa2 @valexqpt @snowsilver2000 @mitsurisupporter @meikstv @ravenbc @mihyas-dieehefrau

A/N: was too lazy to type this out in the messenger app

ꨄ︎Anglbunny | Do not copy, steal or translate my work and pngs. you'll be blocked.

Masterlist

[hanasnx]

ᯓ★ “ I WANNA FUCK WITH THE LIGHTS ON ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: this movie isn’t out yet but i can’t wait that long to take advantage of my superman kick and fuck this man. unfortunately i don’t know much about his characterization other than the trailer content. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ size difference ノ dick riding ノ objectification ノ p in v ノ praise ノ clark has huge dick syndrome.

“Just… take it slow.” CLARK KENT encourages, but it’s said more so for himself than you. A large, flattened palm emphasizes his instruction, gesturing for you to relax without grabbing you to take over your actions. You stop, his eyes flickering to meet yours questioningly, until he takes a shot in the dark. “Please.” It’s delightfully endearing, and it loosens you up a little.

“It’s not that, Clark, I’m just—you’re just so… you know,” Big. You try to hint at it without blurting it out. Hovering over his lap too long, a tremor builds in your thighs, and you bite down onto your lip as you let it pass through you in a shudder.

His expression adjusts as the realization dawns on him, “Ah,” he exclaims thoughtfully, and he tests the waters, bringing his hands to your body to rest in comfortable places. Your waist seems appropriate, and your fingers fiddle with the muscle in his shoulders as you keep chewing your lip. “Do you want me to take over?” the question is punctuated with a shift of his hips, arranging himself in a better position to begin, but even the marginal movement has you whining with need. It alerts him, tensing up instantly as he freezes while your pretty face twists in pleasured agony. You’re still wrapped around his reddened tip, and it’s a burning kind of stretch that makes you wish you could just shove him in all the way—at the cost of ripping you in half.

Through your heavy lids and thick eyelashes, you manage to meet his gaze with darkened pupils that don’t want to cooperate. You hum a pitiful “uh-huh” while you nod your head, signaling to him that he’s right. His thumbs on your torso stroke at your skin comfortingly, big hands clamped around you as he raises you. The lip of his head catches on the rim of your pussy, and you suck in a breath as an emptiness replaces what used to be filled.

“We’re gonna take it nice and easy,” Clark talks you through it, but even his exhale hitches when cold air hits his slit. Carefully, he lowers you back on, feeding his dick back into your silken walls before taking it away again—all to introduce your hole to his size little by little. The method chips away at your tightness, and you try to follow his movements with yours even if you’re weak in the knees. “Wanna look at me, duchess? Let me see your eyes?” He tilts his head, his curls falling over his forehead as he chases your gaze. You do your best to peel your eyes open one-by-one, granting him his wish as you pant through your open mouth taking his cock one agonizing inch at a time. The sight of you barely holding on when he’s not even halfway in, stretches a smile onto his face, and if you were more coherent, you’d say it’s one of pride as well as endearment.

One hand cautiously releases your side, while the other takes your weight entirely, bobbing you up and down as if you were no heavier than a fleshlight. His other slides between you two to seek out your pretty bud, resting his thick fingers on your thigh while his thumb comes to stroke at that clit. The new sensation slicks you up as quickly as it occurred, and you gasp at how elevated it all feels from a simple action like that. “That’s what you were missing. Right, baby? It’s hard to loosen up without it. You’re so tight…” You know he didn’t say it like it’s a compliment, but it makes your insides jump anyway. Your muscle contracts and suddenly he can fit a lot more in. “Does that feel good?” he asks, his thumb leisurely circling your bud as your pussy drools around him.

Desperately, you nod your head with a couple of “mm-hmm’s!” that lead him to speed up—introducing you to more of his length as he picks up the pace on petting your clit. Your hands abandon gripping his shoulders for stability and instead overlay his. Yours are dwarfed by him, but he takes your guidance, absorbing how you’re putting pressure on his knuckles and replicating it against your poor pearl, getting puffy from the stimulation and the lack of getting railed. It all lights a fire under your ass, and your body moves for you, bouncing in place to try and force more of his cock into you. You can’t overpower the Superman, but he does let you take it all down to the hilt—his strength making a sex toy out of you.

[baskeigh-ball]

Mind swap drabbles my beloved (I’m hoping the color coding helps to figure out who is who)

Shorter post but we balling. Anyways my favorite headcanon is that the brothers say genuinely concerning shit sometimes and everyone but them registers that whatever they just said was, in fact, NOT a healthy mindset/normal experience. Raph does it the least out of the four, though, so his “moments” tend to be especially jarring

[buckysleftbicep]

eyes don't lie 𐙚 b.b

pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!reader (no spoilers though!)

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, one bed trope, dom!bucky, lots of sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, self-pleasure, rough sex, slight degradation, bucky manhandles you, rough sex (please read the warnings)

summary: you and bucky were trapped in a storm during mission, with one bed and so much tension. (really just lots of filthy sex guys)

word count: 2.8k

author's note: hi! i am obsessed with the one bed trope and i've been trying to write something for thunderbolts!bucky! i am glad i finally finished this up! thank you for reading! again, please read the warnings, I received some comments on my previous work, i understand my fics may not be for everyone, so please take care to read the warnings! love ya guys and stay safe!

It should have been easy, a covert extraction in the Romanian wilderness, just as you and Bucky had planned, weeks ago. Intel in, asset out, and given how you and the brunette had run riskier ops with much less and fewer exits, this was supposed to feel like a walk in the park. But the weather had turned fast, almost as if it had a vendetta, ominous dark clouds had spilled over the carpathian ridge just as the both of you had left the drop point, and within twenty minutes, the sky had cracked open in a violent deluge. 

The mountains were drowning as you sprinted through sleet and biting wind which soaked through your gear in seconds, thunder splitting the sky like a scream. “Which way is it?” You managed to ask as the wind howled, “right, we should be nearby” Bucky replies as lightning flashes close, lighting up Bucky’s face in ghost-white bursts as he moves beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, jaw clenched, steps unrelenting. You followed the fallback coordinates, grateful that Yelena had embedded it in your comms, breath ragged, legs burning with adrenaline. A safehouse, government-owned, forgotten, and you and Bucky’s only shot at shelter. 

By the time you stumbled through the warped wooden door, your boots were squelching with every step, water dripping from your clothes in heavy droplets, you shivered, your skin cold to the bone. 

Then Bucky turned, and your breath stuttered in your chest, the firelight from the stone hearth barely reached the corners of the single-room cabin, but it was enough for you to see the way his soaked, black, tactical shirt clung to him, transparent in all the right places. You noticed how his hair, now longer since the last time you saw him, wild from the rain, plastered to his forehead in thick waves. His jaw was tight, the stubble sharp and biting, water slid down his throat, over his collarbone, disappearing beneath the cling of drenched fabric. 

You hated how your gaze had caught there for too long because when your eyes snapped up again, you found Bucky already watching you. For a moment, something passed between you in that moment, heat, recognition, restraint stretched, razor thin. His stare didn’t falter, it raked over you in silence, dark and heavy, almost as if it had a weight of its own. 

You looked away first, he was always like this after missions, all silence and sharp edges, carved from restraint. But it seemed lately, ever since he asked for your expertise in retrieving files and other classified information hidden across Europe, you realised that restraint had been reserved only for you. 

You peeled off your soaked jacket and gear piece by piece, trying to focus on the hearth, “well, this is cozy” you muttered, eyeing the single bed tucked in the corner, “hope you like cuddling”. 

Bucky didn’t even blink, he crouched low by the fire, striking a match, the flames crackled to life on the third try, his jaw flexed as he stared into the fire almost as if it owned him something. 

“Better than freezing out there dollface”. He said finally, voice like gravel dipped in whiskey, you tried to ignore the way the nickname he had for you made you feel, the way your cheeks heated up as you crossed your arms, teeth still chattering, “don’t suppose there’s a hot tub?”.

“No power, its barely insulated, you’ll want to dry off,” Bucky replies, voice clipped, almost controlled, but you could hear it, the tremor in his voice, not from the cold, from something else, something neither of you dared to name. 

You stepped behind the divider wall, pretending you didn’t feel his gaze burn a hole in your back, your hands trembling as you peeled off your soaked clothes, bra, panties, socks, everything clinging to you like a second skin. You found an old thermal shirt in the worn down cabinet, grateful to whoever who had decided to chuck it in there because it was probably the most useful thing in the cabin right now. You slipped it on, and it fell mid-thigh when you did. 

You stepped out, seeing Bucky sitting by the fire, shirtless now, his tactical shirt placed over a chair, his hair had started to dry in soft waves, and you could see the scars that marred his shoulder, chest and back catching the flicker of flame. The scars he endured over the years, his vibranium arm, gold and black in the low light, sleek, deadly and almost beautiful. 

His eyes found you, dark, slow and unblinking, the kind of look only years could shape, Bucky didn’t just see you, he saw everything, every late night conversation, every one of those missions that just caused the tension between you and him to build, so thick you could probably slice through it with a knife, every almost that had ever happened between the both of you, not that you would ever bring it up.

He looked like he wanted to devour you and god knows how much restraint he must have had in him at that moment. 

You swallowed, sitting at the edge of the bed, trying to pretend your thighs weren’t already pressing together. “You taking the bed too?” You asked in a bid to break the silence, the thin ice you were treading on starting to crack beneath the weight of your own voice, brittle and breathless. You didn’t dare look at him, not when the heat of his gaze felt like it could burn straight through your spine. 

“I’ll take the floor,” Bucky said after a beat, “you need rest”. 

“Does it look like I’m sleeping?” you reply. 

The silence was thick, smoke-like, you didn’t want to see those cerulean blues, because if you did, you’d remember what happened in Prague just weeks ago. That kiss—a fake out, a cover that had happened when you both were at some stupid alleyway, a whisper of heat at the edge of danger. You had pressed your lips to his jaw like a lie, in a bid to escape the eyes of agents hunting you both down after escaping with a hard drive. 

But the look in his eyes afterward? That hadn’t been fake. Neither of you spoke about it, not after, not ever. Not even when Alexei joked about how the both of you seemed awkward, and he joked about everything, despite Yelena’s eyerolls and groans. He always had a quip ready, but after Prague? He and the rest of the team had watched the two of you with careful eyes and said nothing. The silence had been louder than any tease.

Because something had changed. 

You had felt it in the heat of Bucky’s breath against your lips, in the way his hand lingered too long on your waist after that kiss. In the way he didn’t look at you for days after, or when he looked at too much or too long, almost as if the man was trying to remember how to keep his distance. 

You had spent nights wondering if he felt it too, the shift, sure the tension had always been there, since the day Steve introduced you to him, since the days you spent with him in Wakanda, but this spark was different, it felt electric—like the gravity of something neither of you could name. Or if he was just pretending it hadn’t happened. 

But now? It pulsed in the air between you like it has never gone away, just buried, waiting. 

You lay back, letting the warmth of the fire lick at your skin, the coarse wool blanket that you had draped over yourself scratching lightly at your thighs, but it wasn’t what made you squirm. 

It was him. 

Bucky. Stretched out near the fire like a wolf at rest, deceptively relaxed, every inch of him radiating coiled strength. Every line of him was cut from shadow and heat, his muscles taut, almost as if he were sculpted by Adonis himself, glistening faintly from with the remnants of rainwater and sweat. His dog tags glinted faintly in the fire light, rising and falling with slow, even breaths that belied the tension buried just beneath the surface. 

He wasn’t looking at you, not really, but you could feel the weight of his presence like a hand around your throat, firm and deliberate. The tension in his body hadn’t left, in the rigid set of his jaw, the way his metal fingers tapped against the floorboard with rhythmic precision.

Like he was trying to keep himself in check. 

His eyes flickered toward the fire as if he was trying not to look at you, as if he didn’t want to give himself away. But you catch the way they flick back now and then, the slight twitch in his brow, the shift in his throat when you move. Like he couldn’t help it, like you were a habit he hadn’t meant to form. 

He hadn’t touched you, but god, he didn’t need to. 

Your thighs pressed tighter together beneath the blanket, you kept replaying the way he had looked at you, how his gaze had dropped to your thigh, your ass, then back up. 

You imagined his voice, low, rough, almost dangerous.

A soft, involuntary shiver rolled down your spine. Fuck. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, let the image of him bloom, imagined his fingers dancing along your skin, his breath warm against your neck, that vibranium arm spreading your thighs like he owned the right, one hand around your throat, the other slick with your arousal. 

You swallowed hard, and your hand was already moving. You slid it beneath the blanket, then under the hem of your shirt, lower, lower, until your fingers brushed our soaked, needy skin. You gasped softly, hips twitching at the contact as your fingertips circled your clit, slow, desperate, and in your mind, it was his hand, his voice. 

“So fucking wet for me”. 

You bit your lip hard, trying to keep the sounds quiet. 

But not quiet enough. 

You didn’t hear him move, didn’t hear his boots on old wood, your mind cloudy with the things you wanted him to do to you, until his voice rasped through the dark, like a gun shot. 

“You touching what’s mine princess?” 

You froze, eyes wide. You didn’t even have time to stammer out an excuse, any excuse. The blanket was ripped away in one swift, brutal motion, and there he was, looming, dominant, those cerulean blues now blown wide with lust. Bucky’s jaw was clenched, fists tight at his sides, chest rising and falling like he had run a fucking marathon. 

“You gonna lie to me, sweetheart?” he gritted out, his voice wasn’t angry, it was worse—controlled. “Or are you gonna be a good girl and tell me what the fuck you were doing”. Your breath caught as your thighs instinctively snapped shut, but Bucky was already kneeling between them, spreading you wide with both hands, one rough and warm, the other smooth and unrelenting, vibranium pressing against your skin like a brand. 

“I-” you gasped, but he was already dragging the hem of your shirt up, exposing your slick cunt to the cold air and his greedy eyes. “I couldn’t help it” you whispered, “you couldn’t help it” Bucky echoed, mocking. “Poor little thing, soaked and needy while I’m just over there, keeping myself in check like a fucking saint” he cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “I see you princess. Walking out in that shirt like it’s not a god damn invitation, shifting under that blanket like you wanted me to notice”. His hand slid down, over your collarbone, between your breasts, down your stomach, slow and firm, until his fingers brushed the slick heat between your thighs. 

“And now look at you,” you whimpered when he dragged a single finger through your folds, slow and devastating, watching the way your hips jerked.

“So fucking wet for me”.

“Bucky-” He cuts you off, “you don’t get to say my name like that, not when you’ve been touching yourself like that. This,” he swiped through your folds again, this time bringing his thumb to your clit and pressing just enough to make you cry out, “belongs to me. Say it”. You whine, pleasure sparking up your spine like lightning. 

“It’s yours, Bucky, fuck, it’s yours”. “That’s right” his voice dropped, dangerous and delicious.

“Now, beg”.

“Please” you whispered arching into his hand. 

“Please touch me, I need, need more” you whimper. 

“You gotta be real specific princess” Bucky’s voice was velvet over knives. “Beg me to wreck you” your face burned, but your body screamed for it louder. “Please, Bucky, wreck me” you breathed. “I want it, want you, need your cock, need you to fuck me until I can’t breathe, p-please” he stood, the sight of him towering over you, muscles taut, eyes ravenous, made your breath catch. He tore his belt off in one swift pull, tactical pants shoved down just enough to free his cock, hard, thick, flushed and leaking. 

Your mouth watered, he gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to stay on him. “Keep your eyes open for me dollface, don’t make me repeat myself” you obeyed instantly. He wrapped your thighs around his hips and slammed into you in one smooth, brutal thrust. The sound you made was half-scream, half-moan, shock and pleasure colliding as he filled you completely. The stretch was overwhelming, perfect. Bucky didn’t give you time to adjust—just gripped your hips and started to fuck you, raw and deep, snagging into you with bruising force. 

“God, Bucky!”

“You begged for this,” he snarled into your neck, hair falling over your cheek. “You asked me to ruin you,” You could barely think, the way he filled you, relentless, punishing, perfect, had your brain short circuiting. His cock dragged against every sweet spot inside you, ruthless and filthy. You clawed at his back, legs trembling as he slammed into you over and over. 

“You wanted my cock that bad?” he hissed, fucking you harder. “Needed to get yourself off thinking about me? Is that what you do sweetheart? Lay in your bed, fingers buried in that needy little cunt, whispering my name like a fucking prayer?” 

“Yes, fuck, always think about you-”

“That’s what I thought” Bucky grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanked your head back and bit your throat, sucking a dark bruise into the skin as you writhed beneath him. “You’re mine” he demanded. “Say it”. “I’m yours, I’m yours” you choked out, pleasure running through your veins as you felt that coil in your stomach tighten as Bucky inches you over the edge. “You gonna come for me now princess? You gonna soak my cock like that desperate little thing you are?” your body was already there, strung so tight, you could hardly breathe. 

When Bucky’s thumb found your clit, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts, you shattered. It ripped out of you like a storm, your orgasm crashing through your body so hard it stole air from your lungs. You screamed his name, back arching, thighs shaking as you pulsed around his cock, soaking him just like he promised. But Bucky didn’t stop, god no, he fucked you through it, groaning as your walls milked him, thrusts growing sloppy, brutal. 

“Gonna fill you up baby” he panted, burying his face in your neck, “gonna give you every fucking drop” you whimpered begging for it, pleading like you didn’t care how filthy it sounded. “Please, Bucky, want it—need your cum inside me” his hips snapped once, twice—Then he came with a snarl, cock buried deep, ropes of hot seed spilling inside you as he trembled against your body, moaning your name like a curse and a prayer. 

You stayed like that for a long, long moment, breathing hard, clutching each other like the world outside didn’t exist. And then slowly, Bucky eased out of you gently, catching the whimper that left your lips with a kiss, his mouth was so soft now. Reverent. He dragged it across your cheeks, jaw, your temple, grounding you as his hands cradled your body like you were breakable. 

“You did so good for me, princess” he murmured, voice low and warm. “So perfect.” you blinked up at him, dazed and blissed out. Bucky grabbed the blanket, wrapped you up in it before tugging you into him. His hands smothered over your thighs, your stomach, brushing your hair off your face.

“You okay?” he asked, voice softer than you’d ever heard it, you nod, smiling sleepily. “I’m better than okay”. His smile, small, crooked and real was almost enough to undo you. He leaned down, kissed your temple, then your lips.

“Good. You’re mine now, you know that?” you tangled your fingers in his hair. “Always was” he chuckled. “Cock drunk little doll face”.

And then he tucked you in against his chest, wrapped you in his arms like you were the only thing that mattered. 

Because to Bucky, you were.

thank you love for taking the time to read this fic!

[snowluvvie]

"I, uh... posted a pic of you. On my MySpace." Rodrick mumbled, like maybe you wouldn't hear it if he said it quiet enough. He sat in front of his computer on his beat-up desk chair, the glow illuminating his face. You gave him a little grin, crossing the room to stand over his shoulder.

"Lemme see." You demanded, resting your hand affectionately on the top of his head. He looked up at you with a little smile and those eyes ringed with eyeliner, before returning his eyes to the screen to click around a few times.

Your eyes widened in interest when he pulled up the post. It was extremely plain, he "didn't have time" for his blog, though you knew he was kinda terrified what people thought of it, and just didn't want anyone to think he was trying. You knew he definitely was, though, you'd seen the focused way his teeth tugged at his bottom lip when his fingers flew across the keyboard.

It was just a picture of you, one you recognized being from last weekend when you'd been getting ready to go out at his house. You were set up in the bathroom, makeup cluttering every inch of the smooth white countertop and the back of the toilet, too. Hair pulled back so it was out of your way, face intently focused as you put your lashes on. It was a cute pic, even if you weren't all the way ready, you let it slide. You could even see a little sliver of Rodrick in the pic, reflected in the mirror when he'd leaned against the doorframe to take it. You remember turning around and waving him off with a laugh, but he sat with you in the bathroom while you finished your makeup, watching you from the edge of the tub with admiring eyes.

Your eyes caught on the title of the post, which just read "glitter glue drinker" and that made you laugh loudly. A couple of his friends comments only made it worse, one of them reading: "she lookz like it." Rodrick's face was lit up with glee as he watched you laugh, effectively giving your stamp of approval, and he was visibly relieved.

"That's cute." You offered him, leaning down over his shoulder to kiss his cheek, though he kept you there long enough to snag a longer kiss on the lips, and he tasted like a tootsie roll.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Your Ghost Knows Me

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: On a mission to dismantle a Hydra base, Bucky’s activation codes are triggered. And what does he do without a kill order?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: mind control; non-consensual behavior (not sexual but bodily autonomy themes); possessive behavior; gun violence (implied, not graphic); threats of violence; emotional manipulation (unintentional); PTSD; trauma responses; forced proximity; mentions of Bucky’s past; Hydra

Author’s Note: I'll never get tired of a possessive Winter Soldier!! Honestly, I should write about him more often. Anyway, this absolutely iconic request is from my sweet dear!! Thank you so much, and I hope you'll enjoy ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

There is always something quiet about Bucky when he looks at you before the mission begins. Quiet in the way thunder is quiet just before the crack. As if he is holding something inside himself too loud for the world.

You always say his name and he would look at you like he’s afraid to blink.

You don’t think you’re supposed to notice the way he hovers at your side. You’re not supposed to feel his shadow, stitched to your steps. But you do. You always do. Because Bucky Barnes does not know how to stay subtle. Not with you. Not when he thinks you might not make it out of this alive.

Your mission is to break into an old Hydra base with heat still humming through the walls and ghosts still hanging from the rafters.

The team drops in like rain. Controlled chaos. Clint on the left flank. Sam from above. Steve on the right flank. Nat somewhere in the dark.

You are light-footed and fast and smart and alive. Bucky stays behind you. Always behind you. Watching your six. He never lets you fall.

And you get the proof of this for the thousandth time when he throws his arm out and grabs your vest to yank you back hard enough to make you gasp. Your heart stutters in your throat. You stumble, twist, spin - and crash into him.

There was a tripwire. You almost walked into it. And Bucky saw. He sees everything.

“You okay?” He breathes, voice low, not quite touching worry but brushing the edges of it.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “Thanks.”

He nods. Says nothing. Keeps moving.

You press forward into the maze of concrete and metal that is the Hydra base, gun raised, heart playing the drum in your ribs.

Bucky slows.

You glance over at him. “What is it?”

He stares at a rusted door, barely ajar. A soft static pulses from within, like an old radio dying in slow motion. The sound crawls down your spine. Your skin prickles.

“Bucky,” you start, reaching for him. “Let’s move.”

But he’s already walking toward that door with narrowed eyes.

The room is dark. Cold. Frost is on the walls like a memory that won’t let go. A machine in the corner makes low noises. Wires twitch on the floor like veins ripped from a corpse. The air stinks of metal and mildew and something old. Something wrong.

And then it speaks. A voice, thick with static, seeps out of the machine. A voice you don’t understand. Not really. You can’t make out the words, but you know them. You know what they mean.

“Желание. Ржавый.”

You spin around, heart rushing up to your ears, calling his name, but it’s too late.

“Семнадцать. Рассвет.”

Bucky stands frozen.

Stone. Steel. Silence.

His face is slack. That haunted stillness takes over.

He isn’t gone. But he isn’t Bucky anymore.

“Печь.”

His eyes go distant. Flat. His face cracks into something you’ve only seen in nightmares. No fury. No fear. Just absence.

“Доброкачественный.”

“No,” you breathe. Your heart forgets how to beat. “Bucky,” you basically yell at him. Nobody even knew there were still functioning systems here. But they’d been waiting. Planning.

“Девять.”

“Bucky please snap out of this.” You know it’s useless. You don’t know why you say it.

“Возвращение на родину.“

Your hand trembles around the grip of your weapon as you force yourself to jump out of the shock your limbs are locked in. You raise your arm and aim. You pull the trigger. One.

“Один.”

Two.

“Грузовой вагон.”

Three.

Four times.

The machine sparks. Cracks. Screams. A dozen red lights blink and die like stars going out. The voice cuts out, perhaps wanting to give a command, a final breath of Russian strangled by silence. And it slams into the room like a body.

For a heartbeat, for a breath, you think it’s over.

You hope it’s over.

But his name dies on your tongue when you turn back to him.

Bucky doesn’t speak. He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t breathe like a man. He doesn’t look at you - he tracks you, the way a sniper does. As if you’re a piece of intel.

Sam’s voice crackles over the comms. “Hey. We heard something. Everything good over there?”

You can’t answer right away.

Your voice is lost.

Because Bucky Barnes is gone.

And the Winter Soldier is standing in his place.

It takes you a minute to explain your situation and you hear the tremor in Steve’s voice when he tells you they’re on their way.

You try to breathe around the panic growing like thorns in your chest.

You whisper his name, again and again, as if it’s a spell that might pull him back. But the Winter Soldier does not know your voice.

Does not know you.

And when Steve finally rounds the corner, face pale, shield up, Bucky growls.

Low. Subhuman. A warning without words.

“Woah, woah- easy,” Steve says, holding up a hand. He looks at you. “He’s- He’s not gone. We’ll fix this. We can bring him back.”

You don’t know how promising he tries to make this sound.

But Bucky shifts his body, in front of you.

He plants himself between you and everyone else, like a wall, like a weapon.

Like a threat.

No orders. No hesitation. Just instinct.

He scans Steve’s hands. Sam’s gun. Natasha’s eyes.

Every time someone even twitches in your direction, he angles his body tighter around you, metal hand flexing. His breathing is shallow. Sharp.

He has no words. No explanations. He doesn’t seem to need them.

You try to take a step forward, away from his back. He moves with you. You stop. So does he.

“Please,” you whisper. “Bucky. Come back.”

But he doesn’t flinch.

Not for the begging in your voice. Not for the heartbreak in your eyes.

But you know he doesn’t hear you. He only hears the ghosts in his blood. The machine in his brain. The purpose Hydra seared into his bones.

“Alright, this can’t-“ The moment Sam takes a step forward, Bucky moves.

He grabs you. Not roughly, not violently, but fully. As if the air between your bodies has never existed. As if he’s made of magnets and you’re the only thing that ever pulled him north.

His metal arm anchors around your waist, his other hand at your shoulder, your spine, your hip - everywhere, all at once. He places himself between you and the others again and makes sure to keep you there as if you are a holy thing. His breath is ragged. Feral.

“Bucky,” Steve tries. There is something pained in his tone. Also something warning. “Let her go.”

But he doesn’t listen.

Because there is nothing left to listen to.

No more commands. No more codes. No more voice in his ear.

So he seems to have written a new directive into his mind and that is you.

You are the mission now. You are the purpose, the protection, the last thing left when everything else burns.

His hand is wrapped around your wrist so tightly, it makes your breath hitch. But you don’t pull away. You can’t. There is something in his eyes. Something not Bucky but not nothing either.

Not the soldier.

Not the man.

Just this animal of loyalty. Of violence. Of need.

You try.

God, you try.

You speak to him in pieces. In whispers. In words coming from trembling lips and bruised hope.

“Bucky,” you plead.

Soft. Like maybe softness will do it. Like maybe he’ll come back to the sound of your voice wrapped in love instead of command.

But he doesn’t.

And he doesn’t let anyone near you.

Not Steve, who takes one careful step and ends up with a knife lodged in the floor in front of his foot.

Not Sam, who reaches out and gets a warning growl that raises the hairs on your arms.

Not Natasha, who tries to circle behind, quiet as a whisper - and is met with the barrel of Bucky’s gun aimed clean between her eyes.

You frantically call Bucky’s name.

“Hey- easy,” she says, voice low. “Nobody wants to harm your girl, Barnes.”

He doesn’t blink. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t care.

He tightens his grip on you, fingers locking around your arm like a shackle. You try to find a piece of Bucky still breathing in there.

But all you see is possession.

He steps back into the shadows, pulling you with him, shielding you with his body as if the world is trying to take you and he’s the last wall still standing.

No one sees you now.

Because he won’t let them.

He moves you behind crates. Walls. Corners. Shadows. Always putting something between you and them. Always hiding you. Not out of shame. Not out of fear.

Out of possession.

Out of protection.

Out of a command he gave himself.

You are a mission. A precious object. A singular order sculpted into the ruins of his memory.

You hear Steve’s heavy sigh. His quiet and deep voice. The pain in it. “We need to sedate him.”

The next thing you pick up is the click of a safety releasing.

Bucky’s gun is pointed and ready.

He would kill for you right now.

He would kill them.

All of them.

Within the blink of an eye.

For you.

“No,” you croak out, voice breaking. It feels wrong to call him Bucky. It feels wrong to call him Soldat. “Please don’t! Don’t do this!”

You don’t know if it’s something in your voice or something in your tense stance against his back, but he slowly lowers his gun, slowly turns his head to stare at you.

Empty.

Unreachable.

But somehow not cold.

And then his hand rises. Flesh fingers trace your jaw. So gently it nearly breaks you.

It’s not affection. It’s assessment.

He’s checking. For wounds. For weakness. For threats, you might be hiding beneath your skin.

You breathe as if forgetting how to.

You try to shift. Just a little. Just to look behind him. Just to meet Steve’s eyes, Sam’s, Natasha’s, Clint’s - who finally got his ass here as well.

But Bucky moves. Fast.

A hand around your chin. Tilting your face back toward him.

Eyes narrow. Jaw locks.

You know what it means.

He doesn’t want you to look at them.

He doesn’t want you to speak with them.

He doesn’t want you to think of them.

You are his now.

Because something in his mind burned the world down and left you standing in the wreckage, and he needs something to hold onto. Not just anything. Not just anyone. You.

You try again.

Whispers, again.

“I have to talk to them-”

He shakes his head. Once. Sharp. Final.

“No,” he growls. Not language. Not word. Just a sound scraped from somewhere too deep and too far gone.

You flinch and he feels it.

His grip grows stiff.

Your body goes still.

He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he doesn’t let you go.

You catch the glint of Steve’s shield out of the corner of your eye.

They haven’t moved in minutes.

They’re waiting.

They’re watching.

They don’t want to hurt him either. But they will if they have to.

“Don’t,” you murmur. “Don’t come closer. Don’t- don’t try to talk to me, he- he doesn’t want that.”

You hear Sam lower his weapon, just a hair. “We can’t leave you like this.”

You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to pull Bucky into your arms and shake him until something clicks and he remembers you. Remembers himself.

But the Winter Soldier only seems to be remembering his duty. Violence shaped into protection.

And right now, that protection looks like isolation.

You. Alone. Tucked behind crates and corners and silence and his broad shoulders.

You speak anyway. Because you have to. Because he’s in there somewhere. Because he might not hear the others, but maybe he can still hear you.

“Bucky,” you speak. Swallow. “They’re not the enemy.”

His hand twitches on your arm.

“They’re your friends.”

He tightens his grip.

“They’re my friends.”

He releases another deep and gravelly sound.

His body is tense, electric, fury held in the cage of his bones.

“Please,” you say. You hate the sound of your own voice now. You sound like you are shattering in slow motion. “You don’t have to protect me from them. You don’t- I’m not-”

You breathe out shakily.

Your lip trembles. Your eyes sting.

Because he’s looking at you as if he would kill the whole world to keep you safe. And he doesn’t even remember who you are.

You press your forehead to his chest. His body doesn’t move.

He’s breathing faster now. His pulse thrums under your cheek.

But he lets you stay there.

That has to be something.

Behind Bucky, someone whispers your name. Carefully. Cautiously. As though if they say it wrong you’ll be ripped out of this moment and Bucky will hunt them all down.

You lift your head.

Bucky sees it.

Sees the way your eyes pull toward Sam’s voice.

Sees the way you’re still trying to hold onto them. Still reaching.

He doesn’t like that.

He hates that.

His hand finds the back of your neck. He pulls you into him, hides your face in his chest. Your shoulders lock. His body shields you like a fortress of flesh and metal and confusion. As if your gaze is a window, and he is closing the shutters.

You are not theirs anymore.

And he will not let you be.

[simpforboys]

frat!perv!manipulative!rafe who’s obsessed with topper’s dumb gf…

(warnings: shameless groping, dry humping, reader is innocent and ditsy, cheating (?))

series masterlist

Sweet Jesus, no way you were actually that dumb?

When Rafe walked into the dorm he shared with Topper at the Sigma Alpha Phi fraternity house, he wasn’t too shocked to see you. After all, you were with his best friend.

“Hiya, Rafey.” You sweetly called out to him, lying on your stomach and mindlessly kicking your feet behind you while you scrolled on Instagram.

“Mhm, hey, pretty girl. Whaddya doin’ here alone? Top ditch you?” Rafe questioned, throwing his backpack down on his side of the room.

“He’s in the bathroom.” You murmur, eyes still glued to your phone as a funny meme came up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Rafe hummed in response, a small smirk curling onto his lips as he took in your outfit. A mini denim skirt, babydoll shirt, and… white lace panties.

Rafe knew you weren’t the smartest or most aware girl in the world, but your sweet and bubbly personality made up for the lack of it. And he can’t say he minded, really. Not when he always got to see peeks up those little skirts you wore or your bra every now and then.

“Sweetness, y’know your panties are hangin’ out, yeah?” Rafe scoffed, walking the five feet over to your boyfriend’s bed.

His large hands moved to grip your soft cheeks, pulling them apart to see the white piece of fabric barely covering your cunt.

You peered over your shoulder, seeing Rafe squeezing and touching your butt. It wasn’t anything new, Rafe always touched you like that when Topper was gone. But you were okay with it, because he always assured you that he was just looking out for you as his best friend’s girlfriend.

“‘m sorry, Rae. Didn’t realize.” You mumbled, before turning back to scroll on your phone, genuinely believing Rafe was fixing your skirt for you.

He climbs up onto the lifted bed, knees on either sides of your hips. “This skirt s’so damn frustratin’… doesn’t wanna come down this pretty ass.”

“Fix it, Rae.” You huffed, adding another post to your close friends story.

Rafe rolled his eyes. Damn brat. But his cock was painfully hard against his shorts, and he knew Topper took forever in the bathroom. “Yeah, baby, ‘m fixin’ it.”

So, his hands lifted your hips a bit, presenting more of your (barely) clothed cunt and ass to him. He pressed his erection against it, grinding slowly at first.

You just kept scrolling, unaware Rafe was dry humping you shamelessly on your boyfriend’s bed — because he was fixing your skirt.

He had to bite down on his lip to keep a moan from leaving the back of his throat. Your pussy was so fucking warm against his bulge, the lace revealing most of it.

And every day Rafe hates himself for not getting with you before Topper did. But, some sick part of him also liked the thrill of doing this on his best friend’s bed, with your ditsy brain.

The adrenaline coursing through him was enough to make him throw his head back a little, sculpted hips moving a bit quicker as he let out a strangled whimper.

His bulge directly hit your clothed clit, making you gasp out. “R-Rafey, are you fixin’ it?”

“Yeah, sweetness. Jus’ hold still f’me…”

He grunted, hands digging into your hips. The sound of your gasp and the delicious — yet not enough, friction felt made his hips stutter, eyes squeeze shut, a small moan leaving him as he cums in his shorts.

He pants a little before he snaps out of it, and reluctantly pulls your skirt down to cover most of your ass. The tall boy then climbs off the bed, looking down at you, still giggling at some meme.

And then Topper finally came in, bidding his friend a “hey”, unaware that his roommate just dry humped his girlfriend.

[animamii]

"y'know," Toji grunts, fingers digging into the plush of your hips, "You shouldn't wanna be with a guy like me." His lidded eyes are focused on the way your body is arched, ass tutted out on display for him as his hands slide to grip the jiggly flesh.

"Mmm? And why not?" Your neck cranes, your voice silky and sweet and you purr out moan after moan.

"Cause you're my son's age, sweetheart," he bites his lip as he watches his dick slip in and out so smoothly, the way it shines with your slickness, "I could be your—hah— father."

"Why be my father when you could be my daddy?" You giggle, glossy lips curling up into a seductive smirk as you push back against him, emphasizing every deep thrust. His breath hitches, fingers tightening possessively on your waist.

"You're a dangerous little thing, aren't you?" Toji growls, voice thick with lust, his pace never faltering. "Makin' me wanna ruin you even more." With that he drills deeper, pushing every single inch of his manhood as deep as he can into you.

Your giggle melts into a breathless moan as he pulls you closer, his chest pressing against your back. "Then do it," you whisper, long lashes fluttering. "Make me yours, Daddy." Toji really doesn't know how a pretty little thing like you got into his bed, but by god he was grateful for it.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he snaps his hips forward, sending waves of pleasure through your trembling body. "Fuck, sweetheart," he mutters. "You really don't know what you're askin' for."

"Oh, I think I do," your voice gets a little deeper, sultrier than your usual girlish tone. Fucking little minx, he thinks.

Toji lets out a deep chuckle, the sound rough and sinful as his fingers trail up your spine before gripping the back of your neck. "You're playin' a dangerous game, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement and something darker—something possessive. "But I gotta admit… I like watchin' you lose."

His hips roll forward, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch of him dragging against your slick walls. The stretch, the heat—it’s too much and not enough all at once, and the way he holds you, like he owns you, only makes it worse.

You whimper, pushing back against him, needing more, needing him to stop teasing. "T-Toji…"

His grip on your neck tightens just enough to make your breath hitch. "What was that, baby?" he taunts, smirking as he leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Thought you liked actin' all grown up. Use your words."

Your body shudders, pleasure tingling down your spine. "Please," you gasp, barely coherent, "Please, Daddy—"

A sharp groan rips from his throat, and in a heartbeat, his restraint snaps. His fingers dig into your flesh as he drags you back onto his cock, setting a brutal pace that has your eyes rolling back. "Fuck—there’s my good girl," he grits out, jaw clenching as he watches your body take him so greedily. "Knew you’d beg for it eventually."

The filthy squelch of skin meeting skin fills the air, and Toji watches, mesmerized, as your body trembles beneath him. "So fuckin' pretty when you fall apart," he rasps, reaching down to press his rough fingers against your needy clit. "C’mon, sweetheart—lemme see you cum for Daddy."

[novaimperia]

★ asking roommate!sukuna if he’ll pretend to be your boyfriend

“what? no?”

at the moment, you’re both at a frat party you didn’t know the other would be at. if you knew sukuna would be here you still would have gone but, judging by the look of complete and utter irritation on his face, he probably wouldn’t say the same. actually, it was pretty funny to walk into the party, make eye contact with him and watch that ‘you’ve got to be fucking with me’ look manifest in his body language. 

what isn’t as funny is the weird guy in your lecture who can’t take a hint and keeps touching you. he’s here now and the shudders running up and down your body tells you very clearly he’s aware of your presence and has plans to do something about it. 

“sukuna, please. i’ll owe you one.”

sitting on a packed sofa, legs spread, he scowls up at you, piercings glinting with the movement. “i don’t need you to owe me one.”

“sukuna, come on. you’re a scary motherfucker, just be touchy with me for a second and intimidate him.”

he takes a swig of his beer. “put your big girl panties on and tell him to fuck off.”

okay, so clearly he’s not going to change his mind anytime soon. groaning, you stomp away from him and to your friends. you walk over to the kitchen, intent to enjoy this party to the fullest. shots go down in flashes, music blares and deafen, you sway and grind and laugh. nothing will take away this burst of youth where recklessness meets lack of conceivable consequences. 

that’s what you think, anyway, until sweaty hands start rubbing your shoulders. you stiffen. 

“aw, you didn’t need to wear something so slutty for me. you’ve already got my attention.”

you can’t see your friends anymore – there are too many people, too tightly packed together, the lights are too dim and the music too loud to do something about the body pressed up behind you. hairs on your arm standing on end, you fight the disgust recoiling deep in your bones and firmly say, “i’m sorry, i’m really not interested. please leave me alone.”

“don’t be like that, baby. i see the way you look at me.” gripping your hips, he tugs you hard back into him when you try to shuffle away. his clutch is punishing and his nails dig into your skin. you hiss. “let’s go back to my place and i’ll show you a good time.”

pulling you away with him, your friends disappear in the crowd. you’re powerless against his strength. he’s too eager, too clumsy, too drunk to even have any semblance of sense. guys like him are dangerous. guys like him get what they want. guys like him don’t stop at ‘no.’ “let me go! let me fucking go!”

“don’t be a bitc–”

“you hard of hearing or something?” sukuna yanks the guys away by his collar, snatching him up like a puppy. “get the fuck outta here before i beat your ass.”

the guy scoffs, forcing a bravado on. "who the h-hell are you? this is none of your business; she's my girl."

sukuna takes a step forward. a cruel sneer twists his face into something dark, something sinister, practically malevolent. "yeah? explain to me how she finds her way into my bed then."

people are whispering; they've noticed the scene playing out. some are already getting their phones out to record, hoping for a fight. others are taking a step back. they whisper your roommate's name like it's a curse. it reaches your creepy classmate even through his drunken stupor. 

"s-shit." he raises his hands in surrender. "listen man, i didn't know she's with you. i swear. i'll go, alright? just forget about it."

personally unsure why he switched up so quickly when he was doing a fine enough job pretending sukuna's height itself wasn't pissy pants-inducing, you don't dare say a word that might bring his attention back to you. instead, you huddle a little closer to your roommate, who doesn't shake you off when you pinch his shirt for comfort. just like that, the guy that's been bothering you for weeks fades in the background, never to be seen again. hopefully. 

you sigh. “thanks, sukuna.”

he grunts. he’s about to leave, to go back to minding his own business and pretending he doesn’t know you, but then, as if he can’t really help it and he hates himself for it, he eyes you up and down. in that moment, whatever he sees, whatever assessment he makes of your appearance, contrasted with the scene you two find yourself in, urges him to say something that almost sounds painful, so unnatural, so alien to him it brings a shit-eating grin to your face. 

“i’m bored with this place. let’s go…” he winces, rolling his shoulder back. “let’s go home.”

[sunskisser]

bucky barnes who doesn’t trust unless it comes to you. whose eyes soften at the sight of you, because his heart knows that it’s okay to let his guard down. he believed the world always had its claws out to get him, until he fell straight into your gentle arms. he tells you the word love meant nothing to him until you came along.

bucky barnes who would live for you. the winter soldier would kill for anyone, the white wolf would die for anyone, but bucky would live for you. he’s never believed in fate, but if it wasn't destiny that brought you to him, he doesn’t know what it was. he thinks maybe it was all worth it, the trauma and the scars and the pain, if it all lead up to the moment when you told him i love you.

bucky barnes who searches for you even in nightmares, screams your name till his lungs burn with self-hatred. you’re his safe space, his home. he’s drawn back to wakefulness as soon as he feels your touch, the gentleness of your breath on his skin like an aching balm to his wounds. he’ll never stop apologising for the burden that comes with his affection, yet he won’t ever stop loving you.

bucky barnes who thinks of hurting you as no less than a sin. who believes even pulling out a single strand of your hair is a hundred times worse than every murder committed as the winter soldier. because what’s a few dozen people in comparison to his whole universe?

bucky barnes who wakes up a little earlier in the morning; not to see the sun rise, but to watch the soft rays dapple your face. he thinks you look angelic, the golden hue painting you in so much beauty that he feels blessed; wonders if he ought to start praying to gods he never once believed in.

bucky barnes who tells you he loves you more times than he can count. whose voice is hardened from years of tortured, ragged cries; but the word doll tumbles out of his lips like soft petals when he looks at you. he knows seven different tongues, and is fluent in every single one. he claims that none of them have the words to describe how you make him feel.

bucky barnes who kisses like a hungry dog, like there’s an ache in his soul that can only be filled by the feeling of your lips on his, skin to skin. he believes the sole purpose of his metal arm is to pin you to the wall. roughness is the only form of love he’s ever known.

bucky barnes who buys you everything you talk about in passing, who takes you out wherever your heart yearns to go, who kisses your knuckles with the softest touch of his lips. he inhales when you exhale at night to make space for the rise of your chest. he only ever holds your hand with his non-metal one so as to not hurt you. he traces your features while you sleep. he loves you with the full force of the word, because you’re his girl.

bucky barnes who could never unlove you, would never want to. even if the strings of his soul were tied to another, he would cut them off and run straight to you.

[ryunoyuri]

JUNGKOOK FF RECOMMENDATIONS

These are some of my favourite Jungkook fics by some wonderful authors. Make sure to check their other works too, those are absolute masterpieces....♡

Raven Unit by @themfchase

Of Honey and Cinnamon by @ephemerlskies

Supercharged by @btsmosphere

Elemental by @kpopfanfictrash.

Holidays of bread and wood by @cutaepatootie

Sit and Heal by @orphaned-kiirokero

Something About You by @ahundredtimesover

T&S by @jjkfire

Meraki by @taegularities

I Want You To Stay by @ahundredtimesover

Angel's Trumpet by @hansolmates

Bloody Crawling Back To You + sequel by @acheronsociety

Begin by @taegularities

Bedevilled by @writemywaytoyourheart

The Habits of A Broken Heart by @softykooky

Wartime Child by @ktheist

Summer Nights and Morning Dew by @jeonstudios

Please Love Me by @ahundredtimesover

Elemental by @kpopfanfictrash.

Cold Nights and Blurred Lines by @awrkive

Deal by @jeonstudios

Warning Signs by @hongcherry

Cold As Ice by @ughseoks

The Forgotten Spaces by @oddinary4bts

[bluukive]

Eyes On You

summary - you finally decide to give the gym a go, getting yourself involved with a man who's dead set on pushing you to your limits

wc - 5.4k

content - MDNI, insecure!reader x gymowner!Sukuna, mentions of weight, Sukuna's harsh at first, eventual mutual pining, solo mast. (m + F, separate), 0ral (f receiving), face s;tting, handj0b, slight body worship, submissive reader, freaky in the gym shower (anyone could hear them...but no one does?), teasing, hella unrealistic, really amateur writing like please I'm cringing so hard

an - uhm I've never written a mini fic before !! please excuse the awkward writing

Lazily proofread by me mb

It took all the courage you had to even think about signing up to the gym that opened down the road, but the little voice in the back of your head was telling you to go. Just check it out, it said. Walk around a little, and then right back out. Shouldn’t be hard, right?

Right?

Wrong. How wrong you were. It was easier said than done in hindsight, but you didn’t expect the heavy thud of rock music to blare throughout the facility until you felt your bones tremble. Nor did you expect large gaggles of gym bros swarming around the equipment, a few heads turning the moment you pushed open the glass door. Sure, there were enough women there also, but not enough to deter you from yanking the drawstrings of your hoodie. Your vision became obstructed as the hood tightened around your face, whispered curses leaving your lips.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, eyes darting side to side as the social anxiety set in. You were close to turning around on your heel and out of this building, leg already twitching. But a low, gravelly voice called out to you from beside a water fountain you were unfortunately standing too close to. 

“Lost? Nervous? Which one is it, girl?”

You don’t know how you missed this giant of a man, especially when his cropped, pink hair made him stick out like a sore thumb. Some strands were plastered to his sweaty forehead and concealed the judgement of his stare. Barely. His tank top also did a poor job of hiding those hulking muscles, flexing slightly with full veins as he gripped his water bottle. Looks like you caught him mid-workout. Oh, and you’re gawking like an idiot.

Nice going. 

“Are you deaf or something? Speak up already,” the stranger clicked his tongue impatiently, and you internally panicked. You wondered whether manifestation was real and if you could will for the stranger to just explode. Actually, make it the entire room. An embarrassed grimace appeared on your face as you realised you had the attention of a couple of people on you.

“Uh, no. No, I’m not deaf. Just looking around,” you began to explain, undoing the drawstrings of your hoodie once you realised how utterly stupid you must have looked. But then the stranger gave you a grimace of his own, lips quirking up as his eyes landed on your dishevelled hair. You looked like a mess. 

Way to go. Now you can’t show your face in public. And yes, it really was that deep.

And so you smoothened your hair out and plastered an overly enthusiastic grin on your face to compensate for the fact you couldn’t socialise. “Where do I sign up?”

He snorted, a sceptical brow raised as he checked out your incredibly outdated attire. “You want to sign up?” 

You nodded. Fuck, you weren’t even meant to say that. The urge to slap a hand over your forehead grew tenfold, but you fought it.

A shaky breath left you as you gave in to that little voice reminding you that no, you didn’t fit into those jeans you’ve had your eyes on for a while. No, your mom hadn’t stopped making comments about your body and lack of love life. 

“...Yes, please,” you said after a beat of silence, and that was that. Sukuna, who was apparently a trainer, led you through the whole process. Sign this, read that, fork over some of your wage. You know, the typical procedure. The new you was coming very soon, you told yourself after internally crying over the money spent. You’ll buy those jeans in no time.

═══════★

“Sloppy fuckin’ form, girl. Sharpen up,” Sukuna barked, circling around you like a goddamn hawk. 

Oh, you swore you were going to quit that gym soon. He had been riding your ass for the past couple of weeks, pushing you further than you’ve ever pushed yourself. Sukuna called you out on your bullshit that first day when you tried hiding in the corner with your phone out, coaxing you onto a mat and making you stretch. Since then, Sukuna kept an eye on you, making sure you were red-faced by the end of the workout. 

A sharp click of his tongue brought you back from your thoughts. You groaned, raising your hips from the floor and spreading out your limbs. You were currently doing a plank, which appeared to be dissatisfactory in Sukuna’s eyes. 

“I’m doing it, I’m doing it,” you hissed, head tilting up as best as you could so that you may glare at your tormentor. A scoff left his lips.

“Yeah, you’re as intimidating as fuckin’ pebble right now. Head down.”

Your head dropped reluctantly. The quiet grunt you accidentally let out didn’t escape the trainer, but he wasn’t about to soften up. Neither were you out of sheer stubbornness. 

However, the burn in your thighs and arms became more noticeable. An ‘oof’ sound left your lips as your jellied arms buckled and you face-planted the floor. Another tut and more chuckles from the other members scattered in the gym. 

“Take five,” Sukuna couldn’t help but roll his eyes at you. 

A dismissive noise left you as you remained face-down on the floor, Sukuna’s fading footsteps and mutters of annoyance filling your reddening ears. Your face burned. 

Swallow your pride and quit, the voice in your head mocked. 

But two weeks in? You couldn’t. Not when you had stupidly formed a grudge against Sukuna for pushing you so hard too early on. You shook your head and got back into form, lower lip jutting out in sheer determination. You were completely unaware of the approving nod from the other end of the room.

═══════★

Walking was simply out of the question today. You threw the covers off and gritted your teeth at the way your legs throbbed with each shift of your body. 

It had been maybe five sessions since you had face-planted the floor in front of Sukuna. It didn't look like he'd ease up any time soon after that incident. In fact, he grew meaner. That apparently made you like him more.

The mere thought of him made you shrivel up in bed and grimace, but you couldn’t fight the slight inkling of attraction you felt towards him, slight being an understatement.

It was bound to happen eventually, right? You'd be stupid not to be attracted to him. Each muscle looked like it had been carved right out of stone. Hell, now that you think about it, it was probably also those unamused looks he was throwing your way that made you keep going back to that cursed gym. 

You were there now after hyping yourself up in the mirror back home. Not for too long, though. One look at your chest flailing around was enough to make you curl your lip and shrug on that tacky pair of sweats and hoodie you liked to work out in. You skipped breakfast and settled on a shitty cereal bar you found in your kitchen. It wasn't the best thing to do, but you were set on losing weight. 

The air reeked, to be frank. It was the first thing you noticed after walking into the gym. Testosterone and sweat mixed with a strong hit of regret. Regardless, you pushed through and continued shuffling on your boneless legs. You set your bag down in some lonely corner and mentally prepared yourself for Sukuna to berate you about God knows what. It was something new every time you came here. 

“Told your stubborn ass to stretch after the workout,” he drawled once he sauntered over, an amused look on his face. “Just had to stomp out like a little brat, didn’t you?”

“That's not true. I just wanted to go home and shower,” you scoffed in response. But Sukuna didn’t reply. Instead, he raised a brow that screamed oh, really? You could feel the back of your neck prickle with an uncomfortable heat as he stared you down. 

And then he walked off. Asshole.

“So fucking weird. I mean, who does that?” you rambled to no one, getting in form and raising your arms over your head as you stretched. The slight sting of your muscles being used was actually rather welcome for once. 

═══ Later ═══

By the time you were done, you were warm and sweaty. Sukuna hadn’t spoken to you much today, too busy chewing out a new member of the gym. Poor dude, you thought. But at least it wasn't you. 

This gave you time to look in the mirror, a poor habit of yours. Your eyes cast over your body agonisingly slow as you checked for any changes in physique. Little bursts of cool air hit your flushed skin when you lifted your t-shirt with one hand slightly to inspect yourself, the other hand fanning your face. You then sighed, running a hand over your hip. 

“The fuck are you doing?” 

A garbled yelp left you as you dropped your top and looked at Sukuna from the mirror without turning around. His red eyes were trained at your hip, and he looked almost disappointed at the fact that your clothes had covered again. You whizzed around and stood there stiff. A pause, and then you were wondering why the hell your mouth was starting to run. 

“Nothin’. None of your business,” you chuckled nervously, hands clenching at your sides. “Just checking progress.” 

“Yeah, ‘cus that’s the only reason why you cop a feel of your own body after every session looking like a kicked puppy,” Sukuna’s eyes remained lidded, flicking between the mirror and you. 

“Oh, cmon. I look nothing like a kicked puppy-”

“Yeah, you do. Every single time.”

“You're watching me like some perv-”

“And what?”

You paused and inhaled deeply, a stupid smirk appearing on Sukuna's lips as you grew increasingly frustrated with him. “Will you at least let me finish my sentence?”

“No can do. Wanna explain yourself?” He asked, beefy arms folding over his chest. You had to forcefully drag your eyes away from the slight jiggle of his pecs, your body reacting similarly to that of a Victorian male seeing an ankle for the first time. 

“Eyes up here. Talk to me,” Sukuna repeated, softer this time. Your hands fiddled with each other as you debated whether to open up to this hothead. It was likely that he'd a) make fun of you, or b) propose on the spot and fawn over how perfect you were (extremely unlikely, but a girl could dream).

Sukuna watched as your lips parted and the lie tumbled out of your mouth since it was easier than telling the truth.

“Just stretching.”

An unimpressed grunt rumbled in the man's chest. “Bullshit, but keep telling yourself that.”

“Tch. What else am I doing then?”

“Fuck knows, but quit it. That's not healthy,” a finger jabbed at your forehead, and you swatted his hand away without thinking. Your chest tightened slightly. Was that genuine concern?

Sukuna saw your reluctance to accept his words, making him shoot a deadpan look your way. “I'm being serious. Stop grabbing at yourself before I throw a dumbbell at the mirror,” he scolded, narrowed eyes boring into yours.

“I see you busting your ass every time you're here. You may not think I notice it, but I do. Trust me. Do you really think I’d push someone so hard if I didn’t see something in them?”

He was speaking to you like a trainer now, but you could hear some of his own personal feelings slip through the cracks. It made your throat feel tighter. 

“To be honest, I didn't think you'd see,” you mumbled, swallowing the lump in your throat and wiping your increasingly sweaty hands on your t-shirt.

“Well, I have. Now, stop touching your hips like that. They're fine,” he scolded. Sukuna didn't even wait for a reply as he walked off, probably to slap the back of someone's head again.

For the first time that day, your body felt less heavy. 

And you could confidently meet your eyes in the mirror again. 

═══════★

With your eyes fluttering shut, you shifted and lay on your back whilst reminiscing on Sukuna's words. Maybe it was your memory playing tricks on you, but you swore his eyes lingered on your body in an appreciative way. Maybe he saw more in you than you had ever seen in yourself. But realistically, maybe you were that attention deprived that you were making up scenarios to feel special. 

An exasperated groan left you as you rubbed your face in your hands, heat creeping up onto your cheeks yet again. Honestly? You couldn't remember the last time you felt so whipped over someone before. It had been just under a month since you joined that gym, and Sukuna was already plaguing your every thought. 

It's not like Sukuna was your teacher or anything. You were both legal adults. Yeah, maybe you were just some stubborn brat who frequented his gym. But that didn't mean you couldn't feel anything for him. 

But why did you feel guilty? Was it the way he was so uncaring yet so observant at the same time that made you feel this way? Or was it the fact that you saw yourself as unworthy of this arousal?

Regardless, you could feel your cunt beginning to ache. You tried relieving it by squeezing your thighs together, but it was useless. The muscles in your body still felt tight, and the effects of the gym lingered. God, why couldn’t you escape him?

Slick noises filled the bedroom not long after you began questioning your whole dynamic with Sukuna. Yes, it was deeply embarrassing and you’ll surely regret it later. But right now, the sensation of your fingers rubbing tight circles over your clit was too pleasurable to ignore. 

With each ashamed jerk of your hips as you lay there, the plush skin of your thighs shook as you raised it slightly and bent your knee. Even though you lived alone and no one was around to hear you, you bit into your fist to conceal the plethora of needy mewls and gasps falling from your lips. The towel had come undone, exposing the curves of your writhing body. The cool air contrasted deliciously with the wet heat between your parted legs. Now that your breasts were free, the hand at your mouth moved lower so that you lazily brush a couple fingers over a hardened nipple. 

But the moment you did that, existential dread crept over you and you withdrew your hand. Self-consciousness hit you like a ton of bricks and you sat up abruptly, face burning at the fact that you were getting off at the thought of some musclehead at the gym. Your eyes fluttered down, unfocused and blurry from denying yourself of an orgasm. You guessed it was time for another shower. Maybe that’d wash the shame off of you. 

═══════★

After a few days of ignoring the urge to go to the gym, you gave in and dragged yourself out of your home. There’s no way you could look at Sukuna in the eye now. That was one of the many thoughts whizzing round your head as you kept your eyes low and headed to your usual corner of the gym. You could smell the lecture coming from the pink-haired man from a mile away, and boy, you were right. 

You were barely done with your first warmup set when you heard his gruff voice cut through the blaring music. He was not amused. 

“You suuure took your sweet time coming back, Sick of working out already?”

And that’s when you froze. Your heart quite literally dropped to your ass once you managed to stand up straight, but your eyes remained on the mat below you both. 

“Was busy, that’s all,” which was a bold lie. He could tell.

“Hm,” Sukuna began. “Looks like you were too busy to even do your stretches properly.”

A thick set of fingers met your back, the digits pressing into your spine so that your posture was correct. An awkward noise left your lips at the contact.

“Straighten up. At this rate, you won’t even be able to workout because of body pains.”

But that was the least of your problems. Fantasies of his hands coaxing your thighs open and his tongue doing unspeakable things to you filled your mind, causing you to move back sharply. You cleared your throat, noticing again the displeased look on Sukuna’s face.

“I didn’t think you’d care if I turned up or not,” you admitted sheepishly, a bold assumption on your end.

A low, hum of laughter rumbled in his chest, which quite frankly did nothing to soothe the steady pulsing between your thighs. “Oh, I don’t. I just don’t want to be losing out on money through your absence.”

Ouch. 

Your head turned, and he saw the mildly offended look on your face. His words were just enough to make you forget about the heat of his body as he walked around slowly to stand in front of you. 

“I’m kidding, i'm kidding. Mostly," he borderline purred. "Is everything okay, though? You’ve been ignoring me more than you usually do,” Sukuna cocked his head to the side, and you wondered how he could sound both amused and irritated at the same time.

A short huff left your lips, almost sounding amused. If only he knew why you had been avoiding him.

“Nah, everything’s good. Just working out, y’know. Like a normal person would.”

Sukuna’s lip quirked up again, a stupidly attractive habit he had when he felt playful. “Riiiight. If that’s the case, stop lookin’ at me like I’ve fucked your life up or something.”

Your brows furrowed as you struggled to keep your eyes on him. The fuck did he know?! But that frantic look on your face didn’t stop him from running that mouth of his. 

“Oh, but who knows? I might have already. And in that case?” he let his voice drop down a couple of notches, leaning forward until you could practically taste his aftershave on your tongue. “You’re welcome, I guess.” He let his eyes drift down, pausing at your lips, and then down to the swell of your breasts through your t-shirt. 

Were you meant to ask him to look for longer, or slap him?

Once the realisation that maybe, just maybe Sukuna was attracted to you settled in your stomach like a heavy weight, he pulled back and walked away slowly, eyes on you until the last possible moment. You blinked once, then twice. 

You were dumbfounded, but also aroused. What the hell was going on with you both?

═══════★

Sukuna’s private office was…something. Low hanging fluorescent lights flickered periodically as he sat there in the busted chair, sun already having set outside. The occasional clang of metal reverberated around the gym outside of the private wall, and the air inside was heavy with dust, sweat, and intense longing. 

Sukuna’s eyes were screwed shut, unable to physically eat the half-chewed apple on his desk. His cock was aching in his sweats. It’s only been under a week since you came back to the gym, and he’s losing it. He’d be lying if he said you had caught his eye immediately. Sukuna remembers the day you came bumbling in like an idiot into his gym all wide-eyed like you’ve never seen a man before. 

But how wrong he was. You had a mouth on you under all that awkwardness. But most importantly, you were so reactive. He doesn’t know why he liked it so much, but seeing you stiffen up at his touches, push out your lower lip when he pissed you off… It really set him off. Not to mention the noises, God. Your soft pants after a workout, your low groans as you stretched those legs of yours.

Honestly? Sukuna didn’t understand why on earth you were so insecure. He had the urge to drag you away from the mirror every time he saw that disappointed look on your face after each workout session. He could spend ages running his hands across every soft inch of your body to show you that you were fine. There was no need for you to push yourself so hard. 

The mental imagery of burying his face deep into your pussy pained him. It was embarrassing, really, the way he was always ogling at you bent over the dumbbell racks or watching your throat bob with every gulp of water. Sukuna rubbed his face with his hands, groaning and manspreading further in his seat as his cock practically weeped to be freed. He could feel the front of his boxers dampen with his precum, which he had been trying to ignore for a while now. But it was useless. Sukuna may have felt like a hormonal idiot for freeing his length from the confinements of his sweatpants, but he saw no use in denying himself the pleasure of fantasising you on top of him. 

It wasn’t long before Sukuna had a large hand nestled deep in his pants, wrapped around his throbbing cock. He couldn’t be bothered taking it out, and something about ruining his clothes to the thought of you made it all the more thrilling. When he shut his eyes, he could see the full outline of your body underneath your clothes, the way the outline of your sports bra was visible due to sweat after vigorously exercising. 

His cock twitched in his hand and he finally began pumping his hand lazily. Sukuna could imagine you walking in on him, the frazzled look you’d shoot his way. He wanted you to see him like this, but unfortunately for him, you had gone home. 

“Fuckin’ hell, you’ve done it now. Messed me up all good and p-proper, huh?” His hand continued to move, wrist rolling expertly. Almost as if he was used to jerking off to the thought of you. Sukuna’s head tipped back as he pictured you on your knees, lips glossy with his cum and body eager to please him. Oh, you'd look so pretty with your tits pressed together as you sat their obediently.

The chair creaked once he started rutting into his hand frantically. His hips jerked once, then again as his orgasm hit him. It hit him hard. It was messy and the waves of shame hit him at the same time ropes of thick cum coated his fingers and the insides of his sweats. 

Uneven pants filled that small office, and Sukuna finally withdrew his fingers and wiped them clean with a nearby rag he kept nearby. He could feel his heart hammering in his throat, and he actively avoided looking down at the mess he made inside of his sweats. 

Maybe Sukuna felt ashamed. He definitely should have. But there was no way in hell Sukuna would ever stop thinking about you. 

═══════★

You should have gone home and showered there like you usually did. But the tension between you and Sukuna exactly two days later had you on edge. You weren’t thinking straight, water bottle empty and chest heaving from overexertion. Your aching feet dragged to the gym showers instead, where you stripped after setting up all of your belongings. That berry-scented body wash just screaming your name. 

Sukuna however, came with other plans. He was thanking the stars that the gym was mostly empty, and there was little to no chance of anyone walking in. Plot armour, one may call it. 

You were in the middle of washing your body, washcloth scrubbing at your chest and getting them all soapy. How odd Sukuna was acting today, you muttered to yourself, recalling how his stare never left you and how his jaw remained tightly clenched. You were almost afraid he’d break a tooth.

The obnoxious creak of the shower-room doors brought you out of your daydreams, and you were glad the curtains concealed you from the eyes of whoever had just walked in. You were thinking to yourself that gosh, they really should oil up the hinges, but the curtains opened. Your eyes landed on a very pent-up Sukuna, whose eyes were shamelessly ogling at your nude body. You merely blinked at him, brain trying to catch up with what was going on.

“So, hey! One person per shower!?” you practically shrieked, backing up when Sukuna entered the shower and shut the curtain behind him. He’s soaking in the sight, clothes becoming drenched as the hot water beat down on both of you. Sukuna’is breath met the steam as he exhaled heavily, finally forcing himself to speak. 

“Gonna tell me to fuck off any time soon? Say something, pretty girl,” he cooed raspily, head cocked slightly to the side as he hunched over you. You could only stare back up at him, blinking away the spray of water. But the way your pussy clenched around nothing told you all you needed to know. You were positive you wanted him, so you gave him a nod. 

That was enough of an invitation for Sukuna to capture your bottom lip with his teeth, sucking it lightly into his mouth as he initiated a kiss under the spraying showerhead. You wanted to kiss back, but everything about Sukuna screamed urgency. You could barely register the fact that he was nipping at your neck, sucking a nipple into his mouth as his greedy hands pawed at every inch of skin you had to offer. 

“R-ryo, please wait-”

“No waiting. Don’t you dare tell me to wait,” he gritted out, sinking onto the tiles and using his hands to maneuver you around so that your rear was in his face. You winced at the sensation of the cold tiles your breasts were pressed up against, but you had no time to complain about it when Sukuna used both hands to spread the supple fat of your ass apart. A sharp gasp ripped out of your throat and your head whipped behind you to check.

“What exactly do you think you’re doin-”

He doesn't allow you to finish your sentence. The fiend angled his head, flattened his tongue and licked a fat stripe from your pussy to ass. You shrieked, hands flailing as you tried to grip the tiles unsuccessfully. A sharp swat to your ass served as a reminder to keep quiet, so you slapped a hand over your kiss-bitten lips. Sukuna took this as a chance to grab one of your calves and lifted it to the side, allowing him to groan deeply at the way your pussy spread so nicely for him. The fact that he could do so with such ease had you positively shaking. 

Your foot slipped ever so slightly on the wet tiles, but Sukuna was there to grip you even tighter, digging his fingers into the ample layer of fat over your hip to steady you. He dove back in, mouth hot on the entirety of your cunt as he ate you out like a man possessed. A garbled cry left your lips as you let your hand leave the tile. Sukuna was beyond pleased when you twisted his short hair into your fist and tugged, beginning to practically ride his face. 

“Fucking starving today, y’know?” he huffed in between filthy slurps. “Acting all shy for what, when your body is this fuckin’ slutty. Think I wouldn’t notice, huh?”

He went on and on, pausing to languidly roll his thick tongue over your pulsing clit. Sukuna sucked it into his mouth, nose buried between the crevice of your ass. You couldn’t respond, rendered to stupidity as ragged breaths left your lungs. The only time the man under you pulled away was to spit directly onto your pussy before diving back in. 

“P-pull away, gah, pull away, Ryo. M’gonna-,” you whined before being rudely cut off. Sukuna chokes on a curse at the nickname you have for him, and he wraps his arms around your waist. You’re sitting on his face, spasming with a cry as he begins shaking his head to the best of his ability. He’s a certified munch for a reason, devouring you from the back as you release all over his face with a strangled cry. 

You wiped the water from your face and slumped against the tiles. A kiss was planted against your ass, and then another. 

“Fucking hell. Should have done this sooner. Much sooner,” he muttered as he eventually rose to his feet. Sukuna’s knees ached, but it was worth it. “Pussy tastes sweeter than anything I’ve ever had.”

You managed to focus your eyes on him, face undeniably flushed as you pushed yourself away from the tiles. It did something to you to see Sukuna so pussydrunk and hard in his boxers. Somewhere along the way, he had tossed his shorts aside, which was perfect. His erection was straining against the fabric, and you took that as an invitation to sling an arm over his bulky shoulder. Your other hand slid down his torso, dipping in every curve of muscle it could find. You left his pecs alone, deciding to squeeze them another day. 

“Oh, oh. You want this as much as I do?” he teased before stopping himself from speaking anymore once he saw the look in your hazy eyes. You didn’t want sex. Not today, at least. So you settled on timidly freeing his length from his underwear and brushing your thumb over the flushed tip. The larger man almost moaned aloud when you rested your forehead against his chest and looked down, a soft noise of awe escaping your mouth at how deliciously thick his cock was. All thoughts of covering the stretchmarks on your hips, the thickness of your thighs, all of it… they were long forgotten at that moment. You started stroking his length almost lovingly, and you heard the slight crack in his usually confident voice.

“Hahhh, s-shit. Got a reaaal sweet pair of hands on you, don’t you, pretty girl?” he simpered, raising your head with a hand and affectionately resting his warm forehead against yours. The way Sukuna praised you had you doubling your efforts, wrist twisting as you pumped him earnestly. 

The water kept running, but Sukuna could worry about the bill another day. A chorus of guttural growls left him, strokes growing increasingly slick with his precum. The periodic twitches spurred you on, your eyes lighting up the closer he came to orgasm. Your gaze broke away when Sukuna’s lips pressed against your temple in a feverish manner, aaall the way down until he could claim your lips once more. The slight musky taste of your own slick graced your mouth. You should’ve pulled away, but you enjoyed the way his saliva mixed with yours.

“W-woah, there. Steady, fuck. I’m about to cum-”

One last flick of the wrist and a sweet peck on the cheek was all Sukuna needed to cum all over your fingers with a final grunt of your name. His release was warm, ropes of it shooting up to his abs. The urge to pop your fingers into your mouth grew, but the water washed it away. Neither of you spoke for a minute, trying to gather your wits about the change in dynamic between you. The steam continued to swirl around you both, providing a more intimate cocoon for you to relax in.

“Let me wash you up, yeah? Can’t be going home half-cleaned,” Sukuna murmured after pulling back from your face, trying as gently as he could to wipe the sodden strands of hair off of your face. He’s made a mess of you, but you were a gorgeous mess. One he’d happily devour a million times over. 

“Ah, well. That’s your fault, no? I suppose you should be the one taking responsibility,” you laughed weakly, mild exhaustion setting in. The orgasm combined with the heat of the shower was getting unbearable, and you wanted to leave. Sukuna picked up on this, making quick work of cleaning you both up. 

“Is that so, hm? Let me take you out then. Properly,” he said, followed by a nip at your ear. Large hands rubbed at your skin, thumbing at the curve of your waist. A swat of your hand landed on his chest, but Sukuna didn’t pull away. Oh, he was deathly serious. 

“...Yes, please.”

divider creds - @cursed-carmine