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thebarneschronicles · 4 months ago

Text

Nine Lives

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes drives you insane—in every possible way. The bickering, the reckless plans, the way he smirks like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. But when a mission goes sideways, leaving you both bloodied and too close for comfort, the tension between you ignites into something impossible to ignore.

You can keep pretending. Keep fighting him. But Bucky isn’t one to back down—especially when he knows you don’t really want him to.

Trigger Warnings: Bullet wounds, unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it!), p in v, dirty talk, BUCKY BARNES (he needs his own warning)

Author’s Note: I had been tinkering with a few scenes in this and the Thunderbolts trailer made me finish it. Hope you like it! B x

-- Bucky Barnes was going to be the death of you.

Whether it was because he got on your last nerve or because you were desperately, irrevocably, undeniably in love with him—either way, he’d be the reason your heart stopped beating.

And honestly? It might happen in the next five minutes. Because God help you, the man was insufferable.

The room smelled like burnt coffee and bad decisions.

Sam stood at the front, gesturing at a holographic map as he laid out the mission plan, his voice steady and patient—too patient, the way a parent speaks when they know their kids are about to cause problems.

You were paying attention. You really were. But out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky leaning against the wall, arms crossed– and looking bored out of his mind.

Every once in a while, he flicked his gaze to you, not saying anything. Just watching.

And you knew that look. That I’m about to do something reckless and you’re going to yell at me for it look.

You gritted your teeth.

“—we’ll go in through the east entrance,” Sam continued, pointing at the building layout. “Stealth is key. No unnecessary attention.”

Bucky made a quiet sound. It wasn’t quite a scoff, but it was close enough.

Sam’s jaw flexed. “Got something to add, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged, like the whole thing was barely worth his effort. “I just think you’re overcomplicating it.”

Your brows shot up. Oh, here we go.

Sam closed his eyes, visibly counting to ten. “What part is complicated?”

Bucky shifted, pushing off the wall. “The part where we’re tiptoeing around like we’re on a damn field trip. We go in, take out the threats, get what we need. Done.”

You turned in your chair, slowly. “Take out the threats?”

Bucky smirked. “What?”

“What?” you repeated, voice rising. “You mean brute force? Like some kind of rabid raccoon?”

Sam sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

Bucky grinned, which somehow made it worse. “I’d say more wolf, but sure.”

Your grip tightened on the edge of the table. “Barnes, if you go off-script, I swear to God—”

“Relax, doll,” he said, casual as anything. “I’ll mostly follow the plan.”

Your eye twitched. “Mostly?”

Sam exhaled sharply, muttering to himself. “I should start charging overtime for this.”

Bucky wasn’t done, though—he turned that damn smirk back on you. “You do love bossing me around, don’t you?”

And that? That was the last straw.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood, planting your hands on your hips. “We are sticking to the plan, Barnes. No improvising. No wandering off. No turning this into some solo hero death mission.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling through gritted teeth as you fought for patience you absolutely did not have. “Why is your solution to everything brute force? Sam has a plan. A good plan. A plan that does not involve you punching your way through every obstacle.”

Bucky folded his arms across his broad chest, looking completely unfazed. If anything, he seemed amused. “First of all, rude. Second of all, my way works.”

“You mean it works when it doesn’t get us killed?” you shot back, voice rising. “Which, by the way, is not a guarantee.”

His mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin. “C’mon, doll, you’re overreacting.”

And there it was. That goddamn nickname.

You felt it like a spark in your bloodstream, a rush of heat you refused to acknowledge. Instead, you rolled your eyes so hard they nearly got stuck. “Don’t ‘doll’ me, Barnes. I’m serious. We are sticking to the plan.”

“I am sticking to the plan,” he said, far too casually. “I’m just… modifying it.”

Your jaw dropped. “Modifying it?”

“Enhancing.”

“You mean ignoring it?”

He shrugged and you had never wanted to strangle and kiss someone in equal measure more in your life.

God, this man was going to be the death of you.

You took a slow, deep breath, curling your fingers into fists at your sides. “Bucky. No modifications. No enhancements. No Barnes-ifying the plan.”

He tilted his head, looking irritatingly pleased with himself. “Barnes-ifying? Huh. I kinda like that.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Of course you do.”

Sam, who had been observing this entire exchange with the long-suffering patience of a saint, let out a loud sigh. “Are you two done? Or should we clear the room so you can work out all that tension?”

Your head snapped toward him. “There is no tension.”

Bucky, the absolute menace that he was, had the audacity to murmur, “Oh, there’s tension.”

Your entire body went rigid. Your face felt hot. You whirled back to him, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “I will kill you.”

His lips twitched. “I’d love to see you try, doll.”

You weren’t sure what infuriated you more—the way he said it— doll —like it was his own private joke, or the fact that you liked it. Loved it, even. That it sent a pulse of something traitorous through you, something that made you want to either punch him or grab him by the collar and—

No. Focus.

You squared your shoulders, planting your hands on your hips. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Barnes. You’re going to follow the plan. No making things up as you go along. Got it?”

His blue eyes glinted with something unreadable. “And what if I don’t?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then I’ll personally make sure you regret it.”

Bucky grinned, slow and wicked. “Kinda looking forward to that.”

Your breath hitched. Your brain short-circuited. You opened your mouth, then shut it again, because there was absolutely nothing appropriate to say to that.

Oh. Oh, that son of a—

Bucky chuckled, clearly enjoying the way he’d just rendered you speechless. Then he leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to something low and smug.

“Face it, doll,” he murmured. “You’d miss me if I was gone.”

You scoffed, even as your stomach flipped. “I’d miss arguing with you. That’s it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

The knowing look on his face made you want to smack it off. But more than that, it made you want to—

Nope. Not going there.

You exhaled sharply, turning on your heel. “I’m done. Sam, let’s go before I change my mind and let him get himself killed.”

Sam snorted, giving Bucky a pointed look. “See what you did? Now you’ve pissed her off.”

Bucky only smirked, watching you walk away. “Nah,” he said, mostly to himself. “She likes it.”

—

You didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

And do you know why? Because you knew—knew—he wasn’t lying.

Bucky Barnes didn’t say things he didn’t mean. He wasn’t the type to play games with words, wasn’t the type to tease just for the hell of it. If he said there was tension, if he said you’d miss him, then he meant it. He knew.

He knew before you did.

And that was the worst part.

You had no idea when your constant bickering turned into something else, something deeper, something dangerous. One day, you thought you hated him—the next, you realized you couldn’t imagine a world without him in it.

It had terrified you.

So you fought.

You fought harder, argued louder, refused to let him see just how deeply he had burrowed into you. You clashed over the stupidest things—his reckless plans, his stubbornness, the way he called you doll like it was a secret between you. Because if you didn’t fight, if you let the walls slip for even a second, you weren’t sure what would happen.

And it infuriated you.

How dare he?

How dare he make himself at home in a corner of your heart you didn’t even know existed? How dare he take up permanent residence there, until that tiny space expanded into the whole damn thing?

How dare he make you want him when you were supposed to be angry at him?

How. Dare. He.

The memory took over before you could stop it…

It had been a disaster from the start.

The mission was supposed to be a simple recon—go in, get intel, get out. No unnecessary engagement. No close calls. No getting shot.

But Bucky Barnes? He didn’t believe in simple.

You were fuming as you dragged him into the safe house, your grip tight on his arm, ignoring the way his blood seeped through your gloves. He was bleeding all over the place, but of course, he still had the audacity to smirk at you.

“You’re manhandling me, doll.” His voice was rough, teasing. “If you wanted to get handsy, you could’ve just asked.”

You pushed him down onto the rickety cot in the corner, none too gently. “I swear to God, Barnes, if you don’t shut up, I will make your injuries worse.”

Bucky groaned dramatically as he flopped back, far too casual for someone who had just taken a bullet to the shoulder. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—should I be nice to the guy who just got himself shot?” You tore open the med kit, grabbing a pair of scissors and snipping at the sleeve of his tactical suit.

Bucky’s smirk vanished. “Hey, whoa—this is a perfectly good jacket.”

“You’ve bled through half of it, Bucky!” You glared at him, slicing the fabric open with zero hesitation.

Bucky scowled. “Still wearable.”

“Still ruined.”

“You’re ruining it more.”

“Oh my God—do you wanna keep arguing, or do you want me to keep you from bleeding out you reckless, metal-armed asshole?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, because of course he did, the sound painfully casual. “Little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Your hands shook as you tore open the med kit, fingers fumbling over the supplies. “Shut up.”

“Oh, come on, doll, it’s just a—”

“Don’t you dare say ‘scratch.’”

Bucky sighed, dropping his head back onto the cot. “I’m not bleeding out.”

“You got shot, you dick,” you snapped, peeling the fabric away to get a better look at the wound. Through and through, just above his bicep. A clean hit, but it would scar if you didn’t take care of it properly.

Bucky peered at the wound like it was barely an inconvenience. “It is just a scratch.”

Your eye twitched. You gritted your teeth, pressing an antiseptic wipe to the wound with zero mercy.

Bucky hissed, body tensing as he glared at you. “Jesus—are you trying to kill me?”

“Oh, now you feel pain?” You didn’t let up, pressing a little harder just for good measure. “You didn’t seem too concerned when you ran into a hail of gunfire like a rabid golden retriever with a death wish.”

Bucky scoffed. “Golden retriever?”

“You just charged in, Bucky! What part of ‘stealth mission’ do you not understand?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I had to.”

“No, you didn’t!” You grabbed a fresh gauze pad, pressing it against the wound. “Sam and I were handling it just fine before you decided to be stupidly heroic.”

“Doll, you were cornered,” Bucky argued.

“No, I was waiting for backup.”

Bucky gave you a pointed look. “You were outnumbered and had a jammed weapon.”

You locked your jaw. Because okay, maybe that was true.

But he didn’t have to jump in front of a bullet for you.

You cleared your throat, trying to sound unimpressed. “I was fine.”

“You were two seconds away from getting shot.”

“I know, Bucky!” You slammed the antiseptic wipe against his skin, not caring when he hissed. “But you didn’t have to—you didn’t—you— I told you not to do it!” you cried out. “But no, you just had to go full Terminator and jump in front of a goddamn bullet for me—”

You stopped.

Because suddenly, your throat was too tight, and your breath was coming too fast, and you hated that the panic was winning, that it was spilling over.

You weren’t just mad.

You were terrified.

Bucky blinked at you, actually looking concerned now, which only pissed you off more.

“Doll—”

“You think you’re indestructible, don’t you?” You threw the used gauze aside, grabbing another one, your hands shaking as you pressed it to the wound. “Just because you have the serum, you think you can—can take all these stupid risks—”

Bucky sighed, clearly exasperated. “I heal faster than you do, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

Something inside you snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Bucky!”

His eyebrows shot up at that.

“You think the serum makes you invincible?” you seethed, eyes burning. “Is that why you keep throwing yourself into danger? Why you never hesitate before taking a hit? Why you jump in front of bullets like it’s your damn job?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but you weren’t done.

“Guess what, Barnes? The serum doesn’t make you immortal! One day, your dumbass luck is going to run out! And what then?”

Bucky stilled, blue eyes searching yours.

But you were unraveling too fast to stop now.

“I swear to God, Bucky, I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep—” You sucked in a shaky breath, voice cracking. “I can’t—I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

Something changed in Bucky’s face. The teasing, the smirking—it all vanished.

You didn’t want to see whatever was in his eyes.

You dropped your gaze, fingers moving on autopilot, taping the bandage down over his shoulder. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but you pretended not to notice.

You felt him watching you.

For the first time since the mission, Bucky was quiet.

The weight of it pressed against your chest.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat. “Just—just try not to die next time, okay?”

Bucky let out a slow breath, something almost amused slipping into his voice. “Not really my style, doll.”

You snapped your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yeah, I noticed. You’ve got a real stubborn track record of coming back from the brink of death.”

Bucky grinned, slow and lazy, like he couldn’t help himself. “What can I say? I’m persistent.”

Your jaw tensed.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t want to be the one watching you zero out your nine lives.”

The smirk disappeared.

A flicker of something serious passed through his eyes—so fast you almost missed it.

For a second, you thought he was going to say something that would change everything.

But then, as quickly as it came, he shoved it away.

He exhaled a soft chuckle instead, shaking his head. “You worry too much.”

You clenched your jaw, standing abruptly. “And you don’t worry enough.”

Bucky watched you, his expression unreadable.

You grabbed the med kit and turned away, before he could see just how badly your hands were still shaking.

Because the truth was—

You weren’t sure what scared you more.

The fact that Bucky Barnes kept coming back from the brink of death—

Or the fact that, one day, he might not.

–

You exhaled sharply, shoving the memory aside.

No. Not thinking about that.

You couldn’t.

Because if you let yourself sit with it for too long—

If you let yourself acknowledge how much he meant to you—

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to breathe through it.

Bucky must have sensed the shift in you, because as you stalked ahead, fuming, he was suddenly there—keeping pace beside you, his presence entirely too much. Too close, too solid, too him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured. “That’s never a good sign.”

“Maybe I just ran out of things to say,” you snapped, not looking at him.

He made a low sound, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. “That’ll be the day.”

You whirled on him before you could stop yourself, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Do you enjoy driving me insane, Barnes? Is it, like, a hobby for you?”

His lips twitched, that damn smirk already forming. “I mean… yeah. Kinda.”

You let out a frustrated noise, turning on your heel, ready to put as much distance between you and that insufferable smirk as possible. But before you could take two steps, his fingers curled around your wrist—gentle, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

The warmth of his skin against yours sent a jolt through you. His grip wasn’t rough, wasn’t forceful, but it was steady, intentional. And for a split second, you couldn’t breathe.

When you looked up, his blue eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable, intense.

“I’m not trying to drive you insane,” he said, his voice softer now, but laced with something heavier, something that made your chest feel tight. “I’m just trying to figure out why you won’t admit it.”

You swallowed, pulse hammering. “Admit what?”

Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying you like he was searching for something, peeling back layers you weren’t ready to let him see. His gaze dragged over your face, lingering—too long—on your lips before flicking back up.

Your breath hitched.

He was going to say something else. You knew it. Could feel it. But whatever he saw in your expression made him change his mind at the last second. His features shifted, the quiet determination giving way to something smug, teasing. A deflection.

“That it’s a good plan.”

Your pulse stuttered.

This wasn’t what he wanted to say. Not even close.

But he was giving you an out. Letting you pretend, letting himself pretend, like this was still just another argument. Another round of your never-ending bickering instead of… whatever the hell this was becoming.

And that? That scared you more than anything.

“It’s not,” you shot back, seizing the escape he’d handed you. You took a step back, yanking your wrist free of his grasp. “It’s stupid. It’s reckless, and it’s going to get one or all of us hurt if we do it.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed, his smirk faltering for the first time. His eyes darkened, something unreadable flickering in them before he asked, voice quieter, but rougher—”Why do you never take my side?”

The question hit like a sucker punch.

It knocked the breath from your lungs, left you reeling in a way you hadn’t expected.

“I—” The words caught in your throat.

He wasn’t teasing now. Wasn’t throwing out some cocky remark just to get under your skin. This was something real, something raw, and it left you woozy.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Second time I’ve got you speechless today, huh? Must be a new record.”

His voice was light, teasing again, but the look in his eyes said something else entirely.

Then, before you could recover, before you could shove something sharp and defensive between you, he turned and walked ahead—leaving you standing there, heart racing, breath unsteady.

Completely, utterly furious at him.

And even more furious at yourself.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you forced yourself to breathe. In. Out. Don’t let him get to you.

Except he had. He always did. And the worst part? He knew it.

You glared at the back of his head as he walked ahead like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just thrown you completely off balance and left you scrambling for solid ground.

Why do you never take my side?

You hated that the question still echoed in your head. That it stung in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

You stormed after him, your boots crunching against the pavement. “Barnes, we’re not done talking about this.”

He didn’t stop, didn’t even turn around. “Seemed pretty done to me.”

Your jaw clenched. “God, you are infuriating.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, his smirk still in place, but his eyes? His eyes were still sharp, still waiting.

You caught up to him in two quick strides, grabbing his arm to yank him to a stop. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Bucky arched a brow, glancing down at where your fingers gripped the sleeve of his jacket. “Thought you couldn’t stand being near me, doll.”

You ignored the way your stomach flipped at the nickname. Ignored the way your traitorous hand lingered for a second before you let go.

“That plan of yours?” You crossed your arms, tilting your chin up. “It’s reckless. And you know it.”

His smirk faded, just slightly. “And what if reckless is the only option?”

“That’s bullshit, and you know that too.”

Bucky let out a slow exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I get it. You think I’m some idiot who just punches his way through problems—”

“I know you are,” you shot back.

He glared at you, jaw ticking. “But maybe—just maybe—I actually know what I’m doing this time.”

You opened your mouth, ready to argue, but something in his expression stopped you.

There was no smugness, no teasing. Just raw frustration, something worn down underneath.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling too fast, the words dying on your tongue.

“Right,” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “Should’ve known better than to expect you to trust me.”

The words weren’t loud. He wasn’t even looking at you when he said them. But they landed like a slap.

Your breath caught. “That’s not—”

“Forget it.”��

—

Shockingly, Bucky had followed Sam’s plan.

And—even more shockingly—it had gone wrong.

In the end, brute force had been the only way to get all three of you out alive.

You weren’t sure when the dust had settled, when the ringing in your ears had finally faded enough for you to hear your own breathing again. But when your vision cleared, Bucky was still standing.

Standing over a pile of bodies, bloodied and exhausted, his chest heaving with exertion.

There was a split in his lip, a gash across his forehead, and a bullet graze along his ribs, the fabric of his tactical suit dark with blood.

And you hated it.

You hated how your stomach twisted at the sight of him hurt. Hated the way your fingers curled into fists at your sides to stop yourself from running to him, from touching him, from grabbing his face and checking.

Most of all, you hated that you had doubted him.

Bucky Barnes had a century of combat experience. He had spent his entire life surviving fights he shouldn’t have walked away from, and still, you had dismissed him. Still, you had refused to listen.

And now? Now all of you were bleeding. All of you were shaken.

But the worst part—the part that made your throat tighten and your breath shudder—was that Bucky wasn’t even gloating.

No smirk. No I told you so.

Just silence. Just his sharp, assessing gaze, scanning the aftermath like he was still bracing for another fight.

By the time Torres had you all back on the plane, you were shaking.

The adrenaline should have worn off by now, but the weight in your chest only grew heavier. You knew—you knew—Bucky would heal faster than you or Sam. Logically, you understood that.

But logic wasn’t stopping the tightness in your throat when your eyes landed on the bruising around his temple.

It wasn’t stopping the way your fingers trembled as you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down in front of him, against every warning screaming in your head.

Bucky exhaled slowly, tilting his head back against the seat. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding,” you shot back, voice sharper than intended.

“So are you.”

You ignored that. “Just—hold still.”

For once, he didn’t argue. But when you reached for him, when your fingers ghosted over his skin, his gaze flickered—just for a second—to your hands.

He noticed.

Noticed the tremor in your fingers, the way they weren’t steady.

His brows drew together, just slightly. He didn’t say anything, but you felt his stare, felt the question lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Your breath hitched. You curled your fingers tighter around the antiseptic wipe, focusing too hard on dabbing at the cut on his forehead.

When he flinched, you huffed. “Big bad super soldier can take on twenty guys at once but can’t handle a little stinging?”

His lips twitched, but the teasing was half-hearted. “Not my fault you’re rough.”

You shot him a look. “I wonder why.”

His jaw flexed. “You do like making things difficult.”

“Oh, I make things difficult?” You shook your head, pressing a little too firmly as you cleaned the wound. “I don’t remember me running in headfirst with zero regard for a plan.”

Bucky scoffed. “Right, because your plan went so well.”

You froze, fingers stilling against his skin.

His voice hadn’t been sharp, but the words still landed heavy in your chest.

“You didn’t have to follow it,” you murmured.

Bucky let out a slow breath. “Yeah. Well. I did.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and weighted.

You forced yourself to move again, forced yourself to focus on the cut rather than the way his eyes lingered.

Your throat was dry when you spoke. “You were right.”

His expression didn’t change, but you felt the shift in the air.

“We should have done it your way,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s fingers curled over the edge of the seat. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, but you knew he was watching you.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice quiet. “Didn’t do us much good, did it?”

You pressed your lips together. “Would’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t stepped in.”

His eyes flickered. His jaw worked, like he wanted to argue but didn’t have the energy for it.

“You don’t have to say that,” he murmured.

“I do.” Your voice wavered, but you swallowed hard, pushing through it. “Because I was wrong.”

Bucky was still. Unreadable.

Then, after a beat, his voice dropped lower. “That an apology?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real fire behind it. “Don’t push your luck, Barnes.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

But his eyes? His eyes told a different story.

—

The hum of the jet was steady beneath you, the vibrations deep in your bones, but it did nothing to ground you. The cabin lights were low, throwing long shadows across the metal walls. Sam was already passed out in the back, his breathing even, the tension from the mission finally easing from his shoulders.

You should be doing the same. You should be closing your eyes, letting exhaustion take over, shutting out the memory of the chaos you’d just escaped from.

But you couldn’t.

Because Bucky was still watching you.

He sat across from you, silent and unreadable, his blue eyes darker in the dim light. He hadn’t spoken since you finished patching him up, but he hadn’t stopped looking, either.

It wasn’t his usual sharp-edged irritation or teasing smirk. No playful bickering, no cocky remarks about how he’d been right. Just this.

Something softer. Something heavier.

Something you weren’t ready for.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, voice low and rough around the edges.

You shook your head, fingers curling into your palms. “I’m fine.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose, like he didn’t believe you. “Yeah? You don’t look fine.”

You hated that he could see it. The tremor in your fingers, the tension in your shoulders, the way you were still breathing too fast, like your body hadn’t realized the fight was over.

You hated that he noticed. That he cared enough to notice.

And then—because you were tired, because you were furious, because he had almost died and you were still trying to claw your way back from the sheer panic of it—you snapped.

“You could have died, Bucky.” Your voice was sharper than you meant, thick with something you didn’t want to name.

His brow twitched, but his expression didn’t change. His voice stayed infuriatingly even. “Yeah. That’s kinda what happens when people shoot at you.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.” His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight. “You think I don’t know what I’m doing out there?”

“That’s not—” You exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down your face. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

The question hung between you, thick with unspoken things.

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t blink, just watched you—his gaze steady, patient, like he was giving you the space to say it.

And God, you wanted to.

But the words sat like stones in your throat, impossible to force out. You clenched your jaw, tried to shove them back down, but they wouldn’t go away.

Because the truth was, you weren’t just shaken by the mission.

You were shaken by the way seeing him bleeding had made your stomach drop, by the way his pained groans had made your hands shake, by the way you had wanted—needed—to run to him, to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

You were terrified.

Because this wasn’t just anger or frustration or a heated argument in the middle of a mission.

This was Bucky.

And you couldn’t lose him.

So instead of answering, instead of trying to put words to the panic still rattling inside you, you did the only thing you could do.

You reached for him.

It wasn’t sharp or defiant, wasn’t out of frustration or anger.

You just—needed to touch him.

Your fingers brushed over his wrist, barely there, hesitant. A point of contact. Something to anchor you.

Bucky stilled.

For a second, he just stared at your hand, at the way your fingers curled against his skin like you weren’t even sure if you had permission to hold on.

Then, slowly, he turned his wrist under your palm, letting your fingers slide over his pulse point. His skin was warm, his pulse steady. Alive. Here.

Your throat went tight.

Bucky’s voice was quieter this time. Rougher. “You gonna tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

You swallowed hard, but you didn’t let go.

Your thumb ghosted over his pulse, barely a whisper of touch, but it still wasn’t enough.

You didn’t know what you needed, what you were searching for beneath your fingertips, but the slow, steady thrum of his heartbeat wasn’t easing the raw ache in your chest.

Your eyes flickered around the cabin.

Sam was still dead to the world, Torres nowhere in sight. The only two people awake on this jet were you and Bucky.

Something inside you snapped.

One second, you were gripping his wrist, tethering yourself to him like that alone would make this feeling go away. The next, you were moving before you could stop yourself—sliding out of your seat, crawling into his lap, wrapping yourself around him like holding on tighter would somehow keep him safe, keep him yours.

Bucky made a sound—something low, something confused—but his hands came up anyway, large and warm and steady as they settled on your hips, instinctive.

His breath hitched, and you felt it against your temple, the subtle shudder of his inhale.

You buried yourself closer, curling into his chest, fingers winding into the hair at the nape of his neck. His scent was everywhere—gunpowder and metal and something distinctly him—and you could have drowned in it.

“If you ever tell anyone I did this,” you muttered, voice muffled against his neck, “I will find ways to kill you.”

There was no bite to it. No real threat.

Just you—raw and exposed in a way you didn’t know how to take back.

Bucky let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t shove you off like he should have.

Instead, his arms shifted, wrapping around you fully, pressing you into him like this was what he had been waiting for, like this was something he had been needing just as badly.

Like he wanted to.

His metal fingers flexed at your waist, pressing against the fabric of your suit, a steadying grip. His other hand flattened against your back, tracing over the curve of your spine as if he was committing the shape of you to memory.

His touch burned.

His warmth was everywhere.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers sliding from his hair to his cheek, brushing over the stubble there, the still-healing cut on his temple. And then—before you could stop yourself—you were tilting his face toward yours.

For the first time since the mission, since the gunfire, since you watched the blood dripping down his temple and felt your entire world tilt on its axis—you met his eyes head-on.

Bucky swallowed.

His gaze dropped—just for a second—to your lips.

It was enough.

Your resolve snapped like a frayed wire.

And before you could second-guess yourself, before you could remind yourself that this was Bucky, before you could convince yourself that you didn’t love him like this—

You kissed him.

It was desperate, messy—nothing like the slow, sweet build-up you had imagined in the deepest corners of your mind.

Your lips crashed against his, your hands fisting in his suit, pulling yourself closer, closer, closer, needing more, needing everything.

Bucky froze.

Didn’t move when your lips parted against his, when your tongue flicked against his bottom lip, when your teeth caught the cut there, tasting blood.

Didn’t react when you kissed him again, soft and searching, when your nose brushed against his, when you sighed against his mouth, the sound fragile and aching.

Didn’t kiss you back.

The realization hit slow, creeping in at the edges of your desperation, sinking its claws into your chest.

He wasn’t—

Oh, God.

The sting of rejection burned hotter than the wounds littering your body.

You tried to breathe, tried to steady yourself, but your lungs felt too tight, your hands shaking as you forced yourself to pull back, to put distance between you before you shattered entirely.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, a shaky breath washing over his lips. Your throat was tight, your vision blurring at the edges. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Your voice broke.

Bucky was still silent.

And that was somehow worse.

It took a second to register the weight of what you’d done, to catch up to you.

You had kissed him.

You had kissed him and he hadn’t—

Your stomach plummeted.

“I’m—” Your breath hitched, panic clawing at your ribs. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

You tried to untangle yourself, tried to scramble out of his lap, to preserve whatever dignity you had left, to put distance between you before you completely fell apart in front of him—

But then—

God.

Then his hands tightened on your hips.

Hard.

Before you could even get further, Bucky dragged you back against him, fingers digging into your skin, like he wasn’t about to let you go. He maneuvered you until your legs were astride his hips, your arms around his neck, your chest pressed to his.

Your breath stilled, eyes wide, heart hammering against your ribs.

His expression had changed.

The shock, the hesitation—it was gone.

In its place was something darker.

Something heated and unrelenting.

Something like want.

Bucky’s breathing was uneven, his lips parted, his pupils blown wide as his gaze flickered between your eyes, your mouth, back up.

Then—

Then his fingers traced up your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His metal hand trailed over your ribs, up your arm, curling at the back of your neck, tipping your face toward his.

And then, finally, he spoke.

“Doll,” he rasped, voice wrecked and low. “Can you do that again?”

Your stomach flipped.

“I—” You swallowed, your pulse hammering against his fingertips. “You didn’t—”

“I froze,” he cut in, jaw tight. “I won’t now.”

Oh.

Your lips parted, heart stumbling over itself.

Bucky let out a breath, something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you. His grip on your hips flexed, strong and sure, and for a split second, all he did was look at you.

Like you were something he didn’t know how to handle.

Like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to devour you or worship you.

Then—slower this time, more sure—he leaned in.

And kissed you.

You had been right.

Bucky Barnes would be your undoing.

He’d kill you with the way he kissed, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to ruin you, like he wanted to take you apart with nothing but the sweep of his tongue and the heat of his mouth.

You felt it—every glide of his tongue against yours, every careful press of his lips, every sharp inhale between kisses—like a spark lighting up your spine, sinking deep, settling between your legs with a heat so intense you could barely breathe through it.

You shook on top of him, the way he touched you sending shockwaves through every nerve ending in your body. His hands were everywhere—tight, possessive squeezes against your hips, reverent drags of his fingers down your back and thighs, gripping you like he never wanted to let go.

A whimper escaped you, completely unbidden, and Bucky groaned, a deep, wrecked sound that vibrated against your mouth.

Then, suddenly, his lips left yours.

You gasped at the loss—until you felt him move.

Felt the warm brush of his breath against your throat, felt his nose skim along the sensitive skin there before his mouth followed.

“Bucky—” His name left you in a sharp breath as he kissed down your neck, slow, teasing, his lips dragging over every inch of exposed skin he could reach.

The problem was—there wasn’t enough.

Your suit covered too much, kept him from truly touching you, and it was driving you out of your mind.

You arched into him, restless, desperate. “Take it off,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them.

Bucky stilled, his lips pausing against your collarbone.

His hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. Didn’t continue.

“Take it off,” you begged, fingers digging into the fabric of his suit, tracing over the zippers, tugging uselessly at the buttons, trying to feel more. “Please, take it off.”

His breath was uneven, ragged. “Doll, there are people—”

“I don’t care.” You tugged at his collar, leaning in, pressing another desperate kiss to the corner of his mouth. “They won’t see.”

Bucky’s hands flexed against your waist, like he was warring with himself.

You kissed him again, lips parting over his, trying to convince him, trying to make him understand, to feel just how badly you needed this, needed him.

He let out a shaky breath, his forehead pressing to yours, his chest rising and falling unevenly beneath you.

“Please,” you whispered, voice breaking. “Please, before you change your mind—I need this. I need you.”

That did it.

Something snapped in him.

The hesitation vanished.

And then, suddenly, you were weightless.

Before you could even process what was happening, Bucky was standing, lifting you effortlessly, your legs tightening around his waist as he carried you toward the back of the jet, moving with a singular, determined focus that made your breath catch.

Your back hit the cool metal wall of the jet, the impact sending a shiver down your spine, but you barely had time to react before Bucky was kissing you again—hot, rough, devouring.

You gasped against his lips, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life.

His hands roamed down your back, over your thighs, squeezing, gripping—and then, finally, finally, he found the zipper of your suit.

“I’m not changing my mind,” he murmured, his voice thick, edged with something raw that made you shiver. His fingers curled around the fabric, tugging just enough for you to feel the weight of his words. “And you’re not changing yours.”

You nodded without thinking, without hesitation, without fear.

There was a faint awareness of the reality around you—the steady hum of the jet beneath you, the wall of gear shielding you from the others, the knowledge that Sam and Torres were mere feet away. The fact that you were both bloodied and bruised from the mission, that maybe this wasn’t the time, wasn’t the place.

But then Bucky moved, and all of that faded.

The zipper came down in a slow, deliberate slide, the rasp of it against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. His hands worked quickly, efficiently, but gentle, pushing the suit down your arms until you could shake it off completely. The moment it was gone, he pulled your arms around his shoulders, guiding them to hold onto him, like he needed you to keep him close.

“Hold on to me,” he murmured, voice quieter now, almost reverent, before dropping to his knees.

Your breath caught, your pulse hammering as his hands gripped your hips, firm and unshakable, guiding the rest of your suit down your legs. His head dipped, his lips grazing the fresh bruise blooming along your hip. He kissed it once, then again—soft, lingering. Worshipping.

You swallowed hard, your fingers threading into his hair as he nuzzled along your thigh, your knee, before rising back to his full height.

“Not getting these off,” he muttered, his fingers ghosting over your soaked panties. You’d be ashamed if it weren’t for the way his lips parted, like he was desperate to get back on his knees, get his mouth on you, There was also something else. The look on his face - regret, you thought - like he wanted to take his time with you, but was disappointed he couldn’t.

His hands moved up your body, skimming over your waist, tracing along your ribs. You shivered at the sensation of warm and cold, flesh and metal. His eyes darkened at the sight of you trembling under his touch.

“We have to be quick.”

You nodded, obedient, but there was something clawing at your chest, something making your breath catch, making your hands shake as you reached for his belt, undoing it with frantic fingers.

“This—” You took a breath, sliding the zipper down, pushing his pants and underwear down in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the tip already slick with pre-cum. You ached at the sight of him. Ached to drop to your knees and taste him.

Instead, you swallowed hard and met his eyes. “This isn’t how I imagined doing this with you.”

Bucky let out a low, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. “Me either.” His voice was rough, wrecked, breaking apart at the seams. His lips brushed your ear as he groaned, deep and ragged, when you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him slow, teasing. “Fuck, sweetheart—”

A shudder rolled through him, his forehead pressing to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“But I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, voice thick with something dangerous, something devoted. “I promise.”

His arms wrapped around you again, lifting you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, your hips rolling forward to grind against him.

“Bucky—”

“You want this?” he asked, pressing you back against the cool metal wall, the contrast making you gasp. His mouth was everywhere—dragging down your jaw, across the swell of your breast, open-mouthed and hungry.

“I do. I—”

The words faltered on your tongue.

Your heart was hammering, your chest was aching. This was reckless. This was insane.

This was everything.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressed your forehead to his, your lips brushing his with every ragged breath. “I want you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “All of you.” Your fingers twisted into his hair, tugging just enough for him to feel it. “Please.”

Bucky exhaled sharply, his grip tightening. “You have me.”

His words were iron, unbreakable, true.

Something cracked inside you.

And then—there was no more hesitation.

His lips crashed into yours again, raw and consuming, leaving no space between you, no air, no room for anything but him. His free hand slid down, tugging at your panties, dragging them to the side. Your own hand moved between you, wrapping around his cock, guiding him to where you needed him.

“Jesus, doll—”

It wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t careful.

It was one full thrust, his cock pressing inside you inch by inch, filling you completely, stretching you to the edge of pain. Your nails bit into his shoulders, your head falling back against the wall as a gasp tore from your throat.

You felt full. Too full.

Your legs shook around him, your walls clenching tight around his cock, the overwhelming stretch making your eyes slam shut, your mouth parting on a silent moan.

Bucky groaned, deep and wrecked, his forehead pressing to your temple. His body was shaking too, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps against your skin.

“Fuck,” he ground out, metal hand locking around your thigh, keeping you open for him. His other hand tangled in your hair, his grip tight, desperate. “Fuck, you feel—Jesus, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, your arms trembling as you clung to him. “I can’t believe you’re inside me,” you whispered, voice barely there, overwhelmed and ruined. “Oh my god, Bucky—”

He snapped his hips forward, and your world split apart.

The pleasure was sharp, blinding, a lightning strike surging through your veins. Your body clenched around him, gripping him so tight he groaned against your neck, his rhythm faltering for a beat. His hands tightened on your hips, metal and flesh both possessive, both desperate to hold on.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he choked out, voice strangled, roughened with something close to reverence. He thrust deep, his cock dragging against every nerve inside you, every sensitive place that made your stomach coil so tight you thought you might shatter.

“For you,” you confessed, arching into him, letting him feel it, letting him know. “All the time. Every time you look at me—”

Bucky snapped his hips forward, harder, deeper, tearing a cry from your lips.

“Shit,” he breathed, voice breaking, cracking at the edges. “Shit, shit—”

“You’re so deep,” you gasped, barely able to breathe. Your nails raked down his back, desperate, pleading, needing. “Bucky, I—I can’t—”

“I’ve got you, doll,” he groaned, pressing his mouth to yours, swallowing every sound you made as he ruined you completely.

Every thrust was a curse, every breath a kiss, and you were careening toward the edge so fast it was dizzying.

The pleasure ripped through you before you could warn him, before you could even process it. Your walls tightened, pulsing around his cock, body shaking so violently that he had to pin you to the wall with his hips, burying himself to the hilt, his hand cradling the back of your head, shielding you as you contorted in his grasp.

His mouth devoured your cries, catching every broken, pleading gasp as the orgasm tore you apart. It was an explosion that didn’t stop, that kept rolling through you, wave after wave.

You rocked against him, desperate for more, still chasing, still needing, barely hearing the way he rasped your name, telling you to slow down, telling you to look at him, warning you that he was—

“God, you’re heaven,” Bucky breathed against your ear, grinding deep inside of you, his voice wrecked, every syllable tinged with something broken, something beautiful. As you slowly came down, you could feel how close he was, how tightly he was holding on, trying to keep himself from falling over the edge. “I can feel you—fuck me, I should pull out.”

“No.”

It came out fast, urgent, a whisper laced with something dangerous. Your legs locked around his hips, keeping him trapped in your hold.

His entire body went rigid. His breathing stilled.

“Baby.”

Bucky’s voice was low, frayed at the edges, filled with disbelief. The word hung in the air between you, unspoken until now.

You froze.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t have given that away. Shouldn’t have let it slip, shouldn’t have handed him something so fragile, something you couldn’t take back.

But what was a drop to someone who was already drowning?

Bucky’s hands tightened on your hips, but he didn’t move. If he wanted to, he could have pulled you off of him without lifting a finger. You had always been painfully aware of how much stronger he was, how easily he could overpower you.

And yet, he stayed still, locked in your hold. Completely at your mercy.

You swallowed, your fingers shaking as they curled into his hair, pulling him closer, refusing to let him run.

“C’mon, doll,” he whispered, his lips brushing yours, stealing a kiss that felt like it was more for him than for you. “Let go.”

His hips rolled, his pelvis grinding against your clit, making you whimper. Your body was still trembling, still oversensitive, but fuck, if he kept going just a little longer—

“I want you to cum inside me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, your nails digging into his skin.

Bucky froze.

The words echoed between you like a shot fired into the silence.

His hips stilled. His breath hitched. His hands trembled where they held you.

You had to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying out, from begging him to move.

“Doll,” he rasped, warning in his tone, his forehead pressed to yours. He looked wrecked, as undone as you felt.

“Stop arguing with me,” you shot back, voice shaky, grinding against him, dragging your soaked, sensitive heat over him, pulling a moan from his throat so deep it made every hair on your body stand on end.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his grip on you bruising.

“I want this.” You tightened your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer, wrapping him in you, cocooning you both in the moment. “I’m begging you, Bucky. Please.”

“It’s—” He swallowed thickly, voice strangled.

“Irresponsible, yes, but what’s a little irresponsibility?” A breathless laugh escaped you, but your voice broke at the end, too raw to keep up the teasing. You squeezed your eyes shut, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m on the pill.”

His jaw clenched.

“I need this,” you whispered, the truth clawing up your throat before you could stop it. “I need you.” Your voice cracked, your breath hitched, emotion swelling too fast, too much. “You don’t get it, I—”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he softened.

Something in his eyes clicked, something changed, and suddenly, his arms were wrapping around you tighter, his hands cradling your face like you were precious, like you were fragile, like he had to hold you together before you broke apart completely.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, kissing your temple, your cheek, your jaw. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

And then he moved.

His thrusts were slower, deeper, his lips brushing yours between each movement. His hands wandered, soothing, worshipping.

“Giving you exactly what you want, yeah?”

You nodded frantically, breath labored, losing yourself in the way he felt, the way he surrounded you, consumed you.

“Don’t pull out,” you begged, voice barely there, a whisper of devotion, of desperation.

Bucky let out a shaky breath, forehead pressed to yours. “I won’t, baby,” he promised, voice breaking. His pace picked up, hips rolling against yours, pushing deeper, harder, dragging against your oversensitive clit in a way that had you whimpering. “Gonna fill you up like you wanted.”

Your toes curled at the words, at the image, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh, please don’t stop,” you gasped, rolling your hips, needing, aching.

Bucky groaned, his head dropping back as his rhythm faltered, as he snapped his hips harder, chasing the end, giving you what you wanted, giving you everything.

“Fill me up, baby,” you pleaded, your voice a broken, desperate thing. “Make me yours..”

And that—

That was what finally broke him.

Bucky snapped.

A curse tore from his throat, his grip on you bruising, unrelenting as his hips slammed into you, chasing the inevitable, giving you everything. His rhythm turned frantic, needy, his body demanding what you had just offered.

And you took it.

You craved it.

Your body tightened around him, coaxing him deeper, begging for more. Every thrust was an answer to a question neither of you had spoken aloud, a declaration in the language of skin and breath and longing.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he gritted out, his forehead pressing to yours, his breath hot against your mouth. His hand slid down between you, his metal fingers finding your clit and pressing, rubbing tight circles, dragging you back to the edge with him.

Your body shook, every muscle tensed, the pleasure sharpening into something unbearable, something deadly.

“Bucky—”

“I know, baby,” he groaned, his voice cracking at the edges, his own body trembling as he held himself back, as he waited for you. “Give it to me.”

You did.

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, knocking the air from your lungs, blinding in its intensity. Your body locked around him, your hands clutching desperately at his shoulders as the pleasure ripped through you in violent, unrelenting waves.

And that was it. That was everything.

Bucky followed, slamming into you one last time before breaking, burying himself as deep as he could go, a shuddering groan torn from his chest as he spilled into you, filling you like he promised. You felt it as his warm cum Costas your walls, so much of it you weren’t sure there wasn’t some spilling out.

His body trembled, his arms locked tight around you, holding you close as he gave in, as he let go, as he let himself have this.

For a moment, there was silence.

Just the sound of your breathing, labored and uneven. The quiet, lingering shock of what you had just done.

Bucky’s forehead pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his suit.

Neither of you spoke.

Neither of you moved.

You stayed like that—wrapped around him, his cock still twitching inside of you, his arms cradling you like you might disappear if he let go.

You let your eyes drift shut, your fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against the back of his neck, the weight of him comforting, grounding, even as reality started creeping back in.

You should let go.

You should move.

You should say something.

But when Bucky finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his hands coming up to frame your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones—

The words died on your lips.

Because he was looking at you like you had just ruined him. Like you had just changed something fundamental inside of him.

Like you had just made him yours.

And you had.

Slowly,, Bucky eased his grip, his arms still wrapped around you, his hands still mapping the shape of you, like he needed to memorize every curve, every ridge, every place he’d touched.

His lips brushed your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw—soft, tender kisses that made your heart clench, made something deep inside you ache.

It felt too big.

Too much.

But you couldn’t stop touching him.

Your fingers traced the lines of his jaw, the stubble rough beneath your touch. You pushed damp hair out of his face, ran your knuckles down the slope of his nose, his cheekbone, memorizing him the way he was memorizing you.

A hand slid up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheek, his expression unreadable.

When he finally spoke, his eyes were soft, but serious.

“You meant it,” he murmured.

It wasn’t a question.

You swallowed, lips parting, breath hitching.

“Bucky—”

His other hand was still pressed to your lower stomach, like he could feel himself inside you, like he could brand this moment into your skin.

“I felt it,” he whispered, almost to himself. “The way you—” He exhaled sharply, like the words were too heavy to get out.

You closed your eyes, trying to give yourself some kind of reprieve from the enormity of it all.

“Don’t run from this.” His voice was so calm, but it cut through you like a knife. “Please, doll.”

Your throat tightened.

You weren’t sure if it was the aftershocks of pleasure or the overwhelming emotion of it all, but your body was still trembling—and Bucky felt every bit of it.

His arms tightened around you, securing you to him, anchoring you.

“I’m not running,” you whispered.

He pulled back just enough to search your face, like he didn’t quite believe you.

And maybe you didn’t quite believe yourself.

Because what came next?

What happened after this?

There was you before Bucky Barnes.

There was you after Bucky Barnes.

And they weren’t the same.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky fanfic #sebastian stan

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kashverse · 4 months ago

Text

it started with a simple trip to the store. nanami had one goal: groceries. necessities. adult things. things that did not include stepping foot into the toy aisle, where capitalism lurked, waiting for fathers like him to make poor financial decisions. but then, there was yuuji. yuuji, who had stopped dead in his tiny tracks in front of the lego shelf, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in a soft gasp like he was witnessing true beauty. "papa." his little voice trembled with reverence. "they have… wobbots."

nanami made the grievous mistake of looking down at him. yuuji’s big, pleading eyes were practically shimmering, tiny hands clutching at his pant leg like he was a desperate protagonist in a drama. "papa," yuuji repeated, voice hushed as if he were revealing a grand prophecy. "i need it."

and nanami—tired, overworked, victim to puppy eyes and the relentless machine of consumerism—sighed and grabbed the box.

"papa, i lub you."

capitalism had won.

at first, things were fine. yuuji had never been so focused, hunched over the coffee table, tongue poking out as he assembled what was supposed to be a spaceship but slowly turned into an unholy amalgamation of a car, a dinosaur, and a mech suit with one wing. "it's a dinosaur spaceship with turbo boostahs," yuuji explained, proudly slamming a lego figure into the cockpit. nanami had nodded, sipping his coffee, unaware that his peaceful life was over. because soon, the legos were everywhere.

in the kitchen? yes. in his shoes? unfortunately. inside his mixing bowl while making brownies? horrifyingly, yes. nanami had blinked down at the little black lego head staring ominously from the batter.

"yuuji."

yuuji, standing at the counter with a suspiciously guilty look, gasped. "oh! batman in brownies! he is a surpwise."

"he is not a surprise, yuuji. he is a contamination."

yuuji giggled. “but now he's chocolate man.” nanami sighed deeply, fished out lego batman’s disembodied head, and handed it back. "batman does not belong in baked goods."

"okay, papa. but maybe next time, superman—"

"no."

but the worst was what was dubbed as “torture expressway.” it was yuuji’s pride and joy - a meticulously arranged, near-invisible minefield of loose legos, laid across the hallway with the precision of a military strategist. the first time you stepped on one, you nearly saw your life flash before your eyes. the second time, you did.

"mama!" yuuji gasped as you dramatically collapsed onto the couch. "you defeatyated my trap! you win da pwize!"

the prize was a singular lego brick.

nanami, from the kitchen, merely sighed. "you need to stop setting booby traps, yuuji."

"but it's a game, papa! i caw it…" he raised his little arms dramatically, "torture 'spressway!"

"accurate," you wheezed.

the final straw for nanami came when he got up at five in the morning, half-asleep, walked toward the bathroom… and stepped on something small and sharp. the sheer agony that shot up his foot nearly had him crumbling. he clutched the doorframe, inhaling sharply through his teeth as he whispered, voice tight with pain—

"… lego."

from his bedroom, yuuji sleepily called out, "you step on da fire bwock, papa?"

"yes, yuuji. i steppy on the fire block."

"dat means you gotta fight da boss now."

nanami closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and swore to himself that the next time they went shopping, he was buying a vacuum.

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monstersholygrail · 10 months ago

Text

You, a cute Deer hybrid foolishly make another attempt to get away from your Tiger hybrid bf’s grip while his tongue ravishes you in the name of “grooming.” You huff, slumping against his paws that encircle your body.

He chuckles darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. You try as hard as you can to not appear as aroused that you are by it, but when you hear him inhale sharply you know he’s picked up on the scent of lust that seeps from your pores.

“It’s no use trying to get away from me, mate.” You can’t help but whimper, the jittering buzz of restlessness coursing through your pent up body.

“I wanna run,” you whine, looking longingly toward the grassy distance even as you arch into his embrace. A part of you resisting possibly because you know how wound up it makes him.

A second later the tiger’s prickly tongue resumes its course of lapping up and down your exposed throat and you shiver, resisting a pleased sigh that begs to be released. A rumble passes through his chest as he soaks up your warmth, his protective instincts roaring to life at your irritating insistence.

“If you run then you get dirty and then you will be right back here in my enduring embrace with no chance of escape,” he growls, not completely hating the idea for a moment. The idea of caring for his mate’s body as much as he wrecks it an intriguing one. So why not do both?

Even with his warning you don’t stop your wriggling. Of course you don’t. Not when the urge to run and burn off your energy is pumping through your veins. You don’t even notice how your endless squirming has you grinding into your bf’s dick, causing it to harden and stir to life. Bringing forth its need to hunt and make its prey submit. He rumbles huskily in your ear, jerking forward and pinning you down with his hips.

“Stop your moving this instant or I’ll make you,” he threatens with that deadly rasp in his tone that would’ve had you baring your neck for him in an instant if you were paying any attention.

Your damn squirming doesn’t stop and it’s even worse now that his aching cock is nestled right between your plump thighs. His red bulging tip dribbling pre-cum. The fact that you don’t even notice as it leaks down onto your exposed slit is his last straw.

“That’s fucking it. You’re done for.”

Chilling noises leave him as he leans back and yanks your ass up into the air. Flipping your dress up and fully exposing your glistening pussy to the cold air as you help in surprise. That yelp quickly growing into a full-blown cry as before you realize what’s going on, your bf slips his entire length inside your warm wet cunt in a single thrust.

He doesn’t bother waiting for you to adjust before he starts slamming his cock along your quivering walls. His claws digging into your fur to keep you perfectly still for his onslaught. You hadn’t given him a moment of relief and he plans on affording you the same courtesy. Growls tear from his throat at how tight you are, especially as your pretty pussy clenches down on him like the good Doe you are.

You moan wildly, your body buzzing as it finally gets the exercise it truly needed. You try and meet his thrusts but your bf roars in protest, his claws sinking deeper into your flesh. Snapping his cock inside you with brutal thrusts, using your body like a fleshlight. Fucking into you with no restraint and unleashing all his pent up frustrations on you. Just like him your climax sneaks up on you and completely overwhelms you with endless shocks of pleasure. Your body shakes as he doesn’t stop, prolonging the buzzing inside you and you have a feeling he’s not gonna stop for a long time…

With each orgasm that wracks through your form, your body grows weaker. The only thing keeping you upright anymore is your bf’s claws still sunk into your hips. Drool pools from your lips as he pumps inside your pussy just right. Clearly aiming for his own release as few thrusts later he’s spilling himself deep inside you, filling your spent cunt to the brim with his cum. A sweet little reward for how good you were for him.

“Look at you. So perfect like this,” he says in awe, his claws scraping up and down your back in a way that has you moaning weakly.

Your body is so perfectly still, your mind completely fucked out. He now has you exactly how he needs you. With you no longer able to move, your bf leans over you, cock still fully sheathed inside you, and resumes his grooming. This time with no interrupts besides the occasional whimper.

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redcherrykook · 26 days ago

Text

────꒷꒦ 𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 [ s & c ]

︶♱︶︶♱︶ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺︶♱︶︶♱︶︶

part of ɳσƈƚιʋαɠαɳƚ

↳ ❝ [ vampire!Jungkook universe] ❞

✎ summary: he´s observant, watches his prey like an experienced predator, but in 125 years of age, Jungkook had never craved someone as much as you. he had to have you.

note from cherry: warning!! Stalking., obsessive jungkook, crazy PATHETICALLY DOWN BAD jungkook. part one of our sexy obssessed stalker vampire. We love him here. Mini slow burn? Idk.

︶♱︶︶♱︶ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺︶♱︶︶♱︶︶

In the habitual sunday walk through the lush emerald park, the birds accompany your rhythmic heartbeat with their singing. Sunday matchas always taste better once the sun reverts to glow dimly at the horizon, dissappearing goodbye in a tortuously slow departure.

You were never fond of the sunsets as you were sunrises, steadily feeling a clench in your heart at something as radiant as the sun taking it's might to part from the world, vowing to greet you in the early hours of life's next morning. But in the unleashing dark, sometimes the return of the sun felt uncertain.

Almost ashamed to admit it- on rare, eerie occasion, you still feared the ominous that roams empty streets at dead hours way past midnight. Unlike a fairytale or a badly written horror novel- these creatures found themselves in every nook and cranny. Every slither of space, you were brought up to fear them. Never walk alone after sunset. Never look behind the treeline if you felt the presence of their piercingly colorful eyes stalking you every little step.

The world has become much less judgmental nowadays.

"Matcha latte to go?"

The fair skinned man calls out from behind the counter. His purple eyes dull of boredom in typical barista fashion, the smile he shoots you no less polite, although small, pointy fangs flash from it's corners.

"Thank you -" your eyes flicker to his nametag, "Nathaniel. Here's your tip, have a nice day" you reply, automated in that slightly raised frequency you twinge when talking to a stranger.

Your steps take you back through the way you walked initially, crunching on the freshly breeze grass beneath your soles, tracing the familiar route back to your apartment.

It had become utterly familiar to him too. The route was the same- sunday after sunday. On occasion during the week- mostly during exam season, when your body called for an added fuel.

He may have gotten used to the steps he took, synchronizing them alongside your own. However, he'd never get used to your pink lips cupping the straw in their little hold. How you sip the drink with the innocents of a little dove, unaware of the shudders that go through his body, stirr in his abdominal region.

It had captured him wholly. Unexpectedly but calculated nonetheless.

It must have been planned. Seeing your precious little blush, the shirt that snuck up your torso as you put back a book into the raking shelve of the bookstore he works at. It must have been no less than fate, the blood red string of fate that is tugging his nervoussystem in your direction. Letting something awaken inside of him- something of his roots. Akin to his nature- to taunt him of his designation, the realization that he was not merely a simple man.

And his madness grew with each breath of air that filled your lungs. Even when he wasn't around to watch you take them, as long as you inhale the same oxgyen- he craved to breathe you in as though you were his source of essentials.

Chance encounters don't exist- not in 125 years has it happend to him, not a singular interaction devoid of purpose or contrary, filled to the brink with the naked, uncanny urge to engulf this very thing into his chest. That's how he knew you were his calling.

"Hey, sorry, you dropped this"

He taps on your shoulder, unguarded, you spin around, glancing at his face, down his large, faintly colorless hand that held something dear to you.

In the midst of beautifully ordinary walk, you hadn't noticed the drop of your keys.

"Oh god- thank you. That could have ended badly" you offer a small giggle, airy, light. He tries to not let his eyes roll back at the melody, handing you your keys with an aching heart. Soon enough- he told himself- soon enough he will get to enter your space.

"Yeah. Cute guy you got on there. Has he got a name?"

The little, blue bow adorned monchichi keychain catches your eye for a second before they naturally wander up to his deep red eyes. They glint slightly, taking notice of his pointed fangs that he charmingly flashes through a grin.

"Mocha" your answer is polite, small. He knew better than to pry too deep, settles to hum,

"Mocha" he recites, tilts his head the slightest bit, "I think ive seen you at my bookshop before. But i never got to know your name, pretty?"

The instant he asked, he wanted to answer this question for you in place of his theatrically put on questioning expression. Replace it with genuine lust in his voice as he lets the syllables of your name roll over his tongue, just like he's been chanting them in the dark- when no one's watching - when there's no eyes to graze the beautiful sinner he's become once his stiff cock stands proudly in his hand.

You tell him your name regardless. How could you have known that the shadow who seems to follow you around, internalized it like a favourite poem all along.

You were oblivious to his ways, clueless even. He failed to hold back a miniscule slip of tongue, wetting the metal ring in the corner of his pale rose lips.

"Thats a beautiful name. I'm Jungkook"

You bless him with your little giggle for another time, remarking in your head about how easy it was to talk to the handsome creature. The one who's face had been burned into your imagination for quite some time now, tucked away into some box, beneath the litters of faces you've seen at the morisaki bookshop.

"Suits you"

"Is that good?" he asks, showing of his signature grin to which you nod,

"Its elegant"

"Vampires tend to be" he says, vaguely gesturing to your cup, "You like matcha? I could treat you to one, if you like?"

Satisfaction courses through his bloodstream at the airbrushed pink that dusts your cheeks, taking note of the way your pointy gel nails fiddle slightly with your jeanpocket,

Alongside the pleasure, relief floods him in it's soothing tide- he had finally uttered the sentence he meticulously practiced to say over and over again- watch his micro expressions in his reflection to tweak each subtle give away, enhance every unique feature he held within those constructed words.

"I'd like that" you reply, choosing a demure answer that attempts to hide your attraction to Jungkook, your girlish excitement at meeting him again.

"Same time next week?"

Succumbing to his natural charm was inevitable. Nothing could have prepared you for the lull in his voice, how every word he pronounced sounded like those of an ancient spell. The strike in his unusually colored eyes differed so drastically from the fairness of his flawless skin. It was drowning you in its hues.

Jungkook walked home with a use of his speed inflicted upon the pace of a human step. The sight of your lips trembling slightly as you gave him your number, the one he had memorized weeks ago, still playing in his mind's eye like a movie. It would become his favourite memory until he created more explicited ones- though he grew acustom to cumming at the simple sound of your name in his head- spoken by his own voice, now blissfully interchanged with the way you offered it to him earlier.

Patience is a virtue he had mastered inescapably, it grew into his life through vicious blessings, beautiful curses. 24 hours that multiply and blend into unexciting memories.

All strings had gotten loose upon your arrival. How would he be able to await another seven days without seeing you, without hearing you pronounce mundane words or viewing your camera app being opened over a little flower on the pavement.

He couldn't wait, no matter how much patience he had.

His shadow casts itself behind the many cars parking up your street, he zones in on your surroundings- the little shoulder look you give in the dark, as if to spot anything that could endanger you. It made his heart wrench,

"I'd never let you get hurt" he whispers to himself, watching the cold air manifest into transparent smoke as he speaks.

You rattle your keys, unlock the shabby apartment door with stiff fingers, suffering the low temperatures. From your peripheral, it almost looked like a blow- a gust of wind running by your side.

But when you turn around with hitched breath, its empty.

Jungkook exhaled once your figure disappeared into the building. Carelessy, he swung by, wanting to get just an inch closer, an inch away from having his highly receptive senses flooded with your gentle scent. For his yearning heart to get a fraction of gratification.

The closer he is, the more he needs to have. It clouds him like the smoke of a stormy night, rips him into the unknown, the unexplored and hidden desires of digging his teeth into the graceful skin of your neck.

Sunday finally comes around, the end of the week igniting him with a new flame. He'd been painfully dragging himself around in those remaining hours, holding himself back from standing in front of your bedroom window to watch you pick out your outifit, pace around nervously like you did before meeting with your friends on Wednesday nights. A tradition of getting cocktails at least twice a month, you appeared lovely, casual even. But jungkook saw it all behind the curtain of effortlessness, the pile of discarded outfits, your hairbrush thrown on your bed in frustration. The sweet, winged eyeliner that took three songs and four retries to draw on. He'd seen it all, every inch of your skin as you try on dress after skirt, shirt after blouse, no matter how much he restrained himself to avert his gaze.

Now, he's seeing you approach from afar, walking tentatively in the beautifully dim sunlight.

He skips a few steps to be in your vicinity quicker- you blink confused, before breaking out into a small laughter.

"Right, you can do that"

He returns your smile, his heart races at the sight of you so close to him, so attainable.

"Its pretty efficient"

You hum, tracking your gaze from the top of his pierces eyebrow, down his plump lips, taking your line of sight down the contours of his sharp jaw before your focus shifts on the unbuttoned top part of his silky black shirt. His prominent collarbones peak out just enough to make you elicit a barely audible sigh,

In his mind, he's been drifting to your bedroom, to his hands that let the pretty grey fabric graciously fall down the dips of your figure.

"You look really pretty, grey suits you"

Jungkook's smoothe voice guides you through the rest of the joint night.

Along his gentle nature, there is some sort of belonging. A shiver of closeness that runs down your back, even when it's just his knuckles that gingerly bump yours while you walk around the blooming trail. You catch him from time to time, in the midst of your conversation, how he lets himself wander off in thought a bit, yet, he's attentive, responsive, dancing the line of being completely entranced by the string of words leaving your lips.

"Youre easy to talk to" you tell him truthfully while throwing away the empty cup. He chuckles a little,

"Yeah? Well, you make me feel comfortable, i think thats why"

"I do? I feel like i'm so awkward" you chuckle- honestly, maybe you were a bit awkward. Trying your hardest not to let him pay and telling bad jokes about his vampire qualities that he'd probably been told multiple times before. Nothing shy from enticing in his eyes.

"I think youre adorable"

"You're way too honest. Is that a vampire thing?"

His hand brushes a little strand away from your face, stalled in front of the acquainted doorstep of your apartment. The soft hair glides through his slender fingers like liquid gold. From the back of his throat, a small groan of approval sounds,

"No, but I'm bad at lying anyways"

Your lips curve into a grin, mirroring his expression. The thumping in your chest rings so loudly, you're almost sure he's able to pick up the frequency with his immaculate hearing. Its a pounding you haven't yet felt before. It may be the deep night around you- adding to his sexy mystique, the way his eyelids seemed to drop the least bit, following the lure of the moon.

"When can I see you again?" He asks with a quiet, breathy tone. Goosebumps threathen to plaque his dull skin as you bite into the corner of your lip,

"Whenever you want. Just.. text me"

He nods, "Okay pretty"

With that, you smile and disappear into the walls of your home.

Jungkook exhales a long, deep breath. His eyes fall closed, body slumping against a nearby tree. Utter delight crashes his head, grounds him into the world that he is slowly, meticulously creating for you to be part of. For you to be the sun of.

Similarly, you collapse right against the closed door. Smiling stupidly like a giddy teenage girl, running your hand through your hair, you break into a fit of giggles. Immediately pulling your phone out to text your best friend about what had just happend in the last long, dreamy hours.

But before you get the chance to click on her chat log, a message lights up your screen,

Jungkook >.< : cant wait to see you again

He bites back a smile, the reflection of you getting excited over his text dances in his pupils as he stands off to the side of your slightly parted curtains,

"good night sweetheart" he mumbles, gradually turning back to resort back into his own home.

Messages like these had crept their way into your normal days.

Good morning texts, little things that reminded you of each other- mentions of movies to watch together or selfies with meaningless captions like "hard work day :( " decorated your chat in extensive loads. Despite not much time having past since the first date, time has acquired another meaning in its entirety. So much so that you find yourself aimlessly wandering inside a grocery store after suggesting Jungkook should come over for dinner.

He slipped into your life with ease, fitting into a space that seemed to be cut out just for him, and how much you adored him was almost embarrassing to admit.

You had never invited him to your home before, but he didn't mention it. Instead, he typed back that he'd be there at 7 pm, until he remembered that he isnt supposed to know your exact address- quickly adding the question onto his last message.

His breath quickens the instant he's greeted with you facing him, the tulips in his hand feel heavy all of a sudden, wanting nothing more but to drop them and engulf you into his selfish hands instead.

"Come in kook", while wrapping your arms around his taller frame, you can sense the way he tenses, his busy hand clenches the boquet with restrained power, the other one makes it to your back, carefully pulling you into his chest. He inhales your scent in pure ecstasy, button nose nudging the top of your freshly shampooed head.

Once inside- he's looking around the confined space with curious eyes. As many times as he had seen glimpses, being on the other side of your windows felt like a perverted secret. After hours of studying your schedule, analyzing common places, people, interests that are woven into your life, he would finally solidify himself as the most important.

Lucky was an understatement. Jungkook felt blessed- divinely touched to be able to move around the four walls of his angel- his very own godsend gift. His, only his.

The sigh he lets out almost serves as a way to release his overflowing happiness into the atmosphere, let go of his orchestrated hours that took him to his destination- you.

"Pretty place" he compliments, watching you pick out a vase for your favourite type of flowers, "hm, thank you. I love tulips, crazy how you picked them" you say, sparkling innocently as your fingers adjust the petals,

"Good guess right?"

The air thickens with his approaching steps, his aura carries itself over you, there's an undeniable chemistry brewing between you. Presents itself in the quickening of your heartbeat, the tension in his beautifully otherwordly features.

"No garlic i hope?" he jokes, pointing to the ingredients spread on the counter. The thin fabric of your tanktop collides with his cotton tshirt, his muscular arm holding onto the cupboard in front of you. The yearning inside of you leads you to turn around, facing him and essentially, trapping yourself between the kitchen island and his steady body.

Perfect, he thinks.

"Very funny" you giggle, looking up into the deep red you would never get used to. Its mesmerizing to see the color intensify from time to time.

Jungkook reaches his hand out to take your chin between his fingers, tilting your head up into his direction. His face is relaxed but the slight quiver of his lips, as if holding back from letting his canine teeth dart out, doesn't get past your observing eyes.

It doesn't get past him either, how you seemed to nibble on your lip a little, taking deeper inhales with the duration of his gentle touch.

"You're so pretty" he mumbles, growing an inch closer to your face with patience. The proximity makes his blood heat up, he barely has the chance to touch you before every single thought of raw and uncontrollable desire overtakes him,

Your gaze flickers down to his parted lips, the lip ring shines with a slight coat of saliva and you wish for nothing more than a deep collision, just as jungkook craves the taste of you all over his tongue.

As much as he has his instincts under control, he cannot deprive himself any longer.

Rationality vanishes from his thoughts- as his lips press gently against yours, he begins moaning in pure satisfaction. A slight taste of you was all he ever dreamed of having- but he should have known better than that. There was no way of not needing more- he had to have you, taste you, kiss and claim everything you had to give him.

The deep moan makes you whimper into the now passionate kiss- hands having found their way into his tousled hair, tugging at the roots with care. His lips clash to yours over and over, nipping at your bottom lip, licking over it to ask for premission.

You grant it to him immediately, the need to get as close as possible is indescribable, it is more than desire, more than a feeling or a simple word, you pull him in deeper and he whines at your desperation, seeing himself mirrored in you.

"Taste so fucking good. I need you, i need you so goddamn much" he groans against your lips- tongue pushing and tangling with your own, his hands wander up and down your sides as if to soothe himself, holding on to his control for all he's worth.

He steadies himself by breaking the kiss for a breath of air with his forehead meeting yours in a moment of isolation. It was hasty, messy and nonetheless perfect. He craved more, longed for another taste.

You're the first to break the silence, barely letting the words run past your lips in the midst of hightend breathing,

"I like you so much"

He doesn't recall when he last felt this intense amount of pleasure, he doesn't waste another breath on words, kissing you with newfound but always present lust, exploring the softness of your skin hidden beneath the tanktop- his shaky fingers itch at the brief shiver that passes through you- wanting to make you shiver again and again,

"You have no idea how crazy i am about you" he mutters while shifting his attention to kiss along your jaw, his mouth remains open and wet against your skin- running his tongue down your neck so, so gently.

The validity behind those words are something he cannot bear open to you in this moment- but he swore to himself he would eventually.

It takes all his willpower not to sink his pointy teeth into the delicate skin, feeling the pulse running wild like it was begging him to bite.

"Wanna make you feel so good"

Moans of his name fall from your lips, he recriporates each one with needy whimpers of his own, working to touch and worship whatever he has beneath his hands at the moment- already tugging at the bottom of your shirt, before you register it, its lying on the tile floor,

"Hold tight sweetheart"

The nickname adds to the heat pooling in your underwear- supported by simply one of his hands, a reminder of his inhumane strength. You´re lifted to the kitchen island, sitting with your thighs open for him to stand between. The thick bulge that's been present from the moment his lips met yours presses against you every so slightly- providing both of you with tiny amounts of pressure.

His lips run down invisible paths to your bra covered chest, submitting to his urges like a man devoid of free will- of any power.

"Wanna bite you s'bad" he rasps, unfastening your bra and attaching his plump lips to your stiffend bud, rolling the oppsite one in his skilled fingertips,

Institutiavely, your thighs clench around his hips, seeking more friction at the thought of his pretty fangs snaking into your skin. Jungkook completely surrounded you with his scent, his words, his presence.

Serving justice to all the mysteries and tales about his kind- his passion, his groans, his possessive hands are far to good to be the ones of a weak human man- his teeth ghost over you and in that instant, he becomes everything.

"You can- just not - mhmm- too hard"

Interrupted by your own noises of satisfaction, the words come out without any fear. Replaced by the sheer pleasure he lays upon your body, the look of desire in his features as he keeps grabbing, kissing, moaning for you.

He looks at you through his lashes, mouth leaving your chest wet and glistening, his lips are swollen as they breathe out his next words,

"You're a dream, my beautiful angel"

His lips return to your neck, suctioning harsher than previously, grazing the sharpness with every sloppy suck of your skin- and when he finally, ever so slightly indulges in sinking his teeth in- you make the most wonderful noise to him.

The moans of your name fall from his lips naturally, like a continuous prayer to your body, letting his fingers toy with your breasts- allowing his teeth to leave little lovebites in pretty shades of red spread across your neck.

"Youre so pretty, the prettiest angel" he whispers lovingly, gliding his fingers down your arm while admiring his work of art.

His skin burned- burned with the helpless devotion he cannot restrict.

"You´re mine, you´re mine angel all mine, do you understand?"

Posession creeps into the kisses to your stomach- he is touching you, his hands are the ones wandering your body, his lips are the ones marking up near every inch that falls victim to him, but it hardly registers in his head because you scratch along his muscular back- nodding without a doubt in mind,

"Feels so good- oh fuck jungkook please"

You whine- you whine for him and it gets him to nuzzles his nose into your slick lace panties, inhaling deeply to submerge himself in your femininity,

"Anything you want, im gonna fucking worship you baby. Gonna make you come until you beg me to stop"

Jungkook hooks his large hands on the underside of your thighs, kneeling in front of you as though he was actually praying to you- letting your legs dangle over his broad shoulders.

The sight of your wet folds, red and swollen clit all due to him- all in front of his very own diluted eyes made him salivate, he marked your entire thighs with deep red and purple bruises that you met with loud moans, trembling throughout your body- wandering until it´s coming out in your whiney tone of voice that kept asking for him- asking as if he wouldn't burn down the world for you.

"My pretty little pussy, look at that, look at how wet you are for me"

It was so overstimulating to him, hightend all his feelings, blurred his extensive vision at the first drop of your slick on his greedy, relentless tongue.

"Fucking angelic- taste so good" he whines into your pussy- laps and laps at the stickyness with vigour and precision when licking a long strip up to circle your clit.

In between closing your eyes, your droopy sight caught vision of jungkook sitting there, hugged by your thighs, his eyes framed with disshevld strands, glazed and cloudy- mouth wet with messy pleasure smeared along his skin.

"Mhh- kook- you look so hot like this"

The praise thrills him- diving into your need with the large overcast of his own, his cock twitching and aching so badly beneath the blue jeans but somehow- being on his knees for you, listening to your beautiful voice call out for him- it was better than any contact he ever dreamed to experience before.

His eyes roll back into his head upon the arrival of your first orgasm- overcoming you with a loud cry, your thighs clamp around his head, trap him there like you dreaded the separation as much as he did.

"Kook- fuck- ohhh fuck"

You shook, plead for more and his tongue obeyed, thrusting the wet muscle into you fast, his thumb rubbing tight circles on the throbbing pearl of your crying cunt,

"Good girl, good, good girl, come for me- let this pussy know who's it is"

He heard the second high before he saw it- the broken sob, the sniffling that send shocks into his constricted cock, made it beg for attention. It worsened as he glanced up,

"god baby- so fucking cute" he groans so loudly, smashing his lips to your cunt - sucking harshly on your oversensitive clit that endured so much of his suckling and gnawing.

Your moans continue to flow, changing into meek cries of his name, the pearly tears roll down your reddend cheeks ending on your quivering lips that are now covered in the salty liquid.

And at the thought of tasting them, oh so pathetically, Jungkook's cock pulses angrily - leaks with cum all over himself, coating his length in warm, milky pleasure, meeting the sensation of your tangy sweetness blessing his mouth.

"ahh.. mhh.." you stumble out, slowly dropping the slight grinding on his numb and swollen lips, just as jungkook pants and whimpers, having finished untouched- because pleasing you was his priority, his greatest achievement- and he hasn´t even gotten to feeding you every inch of his cock, hasn´t even seen it disappear into your tight, pulsing pussy,

"oh angel, you´re so beautiful, so good, did so so good baby" his lips run his trails back and forth on your thighs, calming their shaking with the addition of his big hands stroking your hips,

You tug at his shoulder and he recieves the silent question, bringing his body up to stand upward, dazed and bathing in your afterglow

It doesn´t take long for your eyes to find the wet patch,

"See that? All because of you. All yours" he says, pulling you into him by the small of your back, like a puzzlepiece, your hands wrap around his shoulders- both of you relish in the company of one another,

How right it truly felt to be held by his magical hands,

To meet his lips in another soft kiss, tasting the remains of yourself on him.

It was right,

He had done absolutely everything in and beyond his power to secure that, now that he had it in his grasp, black and white,

He would always make sure it stays that way, even if it meant digging his teeth into your neck until you bled.

#jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #redcherrykook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook bts #bts fanfic #jungkook fluff #noctivagant

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caramlblogg · 28 days ago

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❀ Shower sex w Jason

18+ MDNI WORD COUNT: 1012

It was a dreary afternoon when your boyfriend got home from a long days worth of patrol. By the time he got home you had dinner ready for him to eat, something you did when you knew he was having a bad day.

The front door of your shared apartment opened and slammed shut a few seconds later. The sound of boots being slipped off and thrown about could be heard throughout the apartment. It wasn’t long until Jason made his way into the bedroom, glancing over at you laid out on the bed, reading a classic novel he’d recommended.

“Jane Austen…she’s good.” He mumbled gruffly as he peeled off his Red Hood suit. The heavy suit and tactical gear fell to the floor with loud sounds, such lovely upstairs neighbors you two were.

You placed your book down and got up from the bed, making your way to Jason and pressing a gentle kiss to his temple

“I missed you.” Your voice was as soft and sweet as ever, hands gently brushing the white hair from his face.

“Missed you too.” He mumbled with a huff, earning a frown from you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“Jay…” Your sweet voice didn’t do you much good as he ignored it and grabbed a pair of sweats to pull on. He made his way back to the kitchen, you following close behind. The two of you sat down and ate in silence, besides the occasional scraping of forks on your plates or a hum of appreciation for the home cooked meal.

Jason grabbed his plate and yours as he went over to the sink, turning on the water and rinsing the plates off. He hadn’t said a word since your short moment in the bedroom and you were starting to get worried. Before you could say anything he was in front of you, pulling you out of the chair and all the way into your bedroom.

“Jay, what are you doing?” Your brows knitted together as he pulled you along, sitting on the edge of the bed

He shushed you and pulled you down into his lap, burying his face in your neck and inhaling your vanilla perfume.

“Need you Ma…” He mumbled from the crook of your neck, his large hands sprawled across your back, pushing you closer into him. “Needed you all day…”

Without saying another word he lifted you into his arms and walked you both into the bathroom. Your arms wrapped firmly around his neck as he gently placed you onto the counter. He wasted no time in pulling off your shirt and bra, your bottoms following suit.

Warm water cascaded down Jason’s back as he buried his face back into your neck, nipping and sucking the skin. His calloused hands gripped your ass tightly as he groaned into the soft skin of your neck. Your fingers tangled in his black hair, gently tugging the locks, earning another desperate groan from him. You bucked your bare hips against his and that was his last straw.

Within seconds you were lifted up and pressed against the cold tile wall of the shower. He grabbed your leg with one hand and hooked it over his shoulder, quickly doing the same with the other. He leaned in to nip your ear.

“Gonna make you feel so good ma…” He whispered, his hands massaging the skin on your thighs.

“Please Jay—“ You whined, it was getting harder to resist, especially when he manhandled you like that.

“Shhh…i know ma, i’m gettin to it.” His voice held mock sympathy and you fought the urge to slap his shoulder for mocking you. Of course you wouldn’t do that now, not when he was about to fuck you so dumb you’d see stars.

It wasn’t long before he slowly entered you, letting you get used to the stretch that you never truly got used to, even after all the times he’d stretched and fucked you.

He set a steady pace, thrusting in and out rhythmically, occasional groans falling from his lips. You tugged his hair to get his attention.

“More Jay, please.” your whiny voice was enough convincing for him, he began to thrust deeply and rapidly into your sopping core. The sounds of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom, mixing with the sound of the water running.

His hand gripped the back of your thigh, folding you more and more in half against the wall as he thrusted into you harshly. He leaned in again, his voice deep and breathy.

“You like when I fuck you like this? Like when i’m this deep inside you?”

Your brain wasn’t functioning properly, the only thing you could manage to let out was a whimper. He relentlessly thrusted into you, over and over until you both had come so many times the whole bathroom was foggy.

You couldn’t remember if it was your third or fifth orgasm of the night, but that didn’t matter, everything inside was turned into mush. You couldn’t even form proper thoughts, every attempt getting interrupted by a merciless thrust into your now aching core.

“Jay please…no more.” You whimpered, your thighs beginning to burn from your current position.

“Just one more, ma. I know you can take it.” He groaned quietly as his thrusts became uneven. Both of you were close to the edge yet again, your tummy burning with the overwhelming sensation of god only knows how many orgasms.

He thrusted and thrusted and thrusted until he was twitching inside of you, his hot seed filling you up once again. You rested your head against the cool tile as you both came down from your highs, the sound of heavy breathing filling the room.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead and whispered against it.

“Did so good for me, ma…I told ya you could take one more.”

You managed a blissed out smile and he let out a soft chuckle, brushing the wet hair from your face and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“C’mon pretty girl, let’s get you cleaned up.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut #caramlblogg #smut #dc smut #red hood

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angrythingstarlight · 9 months ago

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Prompt: I saw on the news that an 8 year old decided not to go to school but stole her parents keys and drove herself to target for a day of Starbucks and shopping. I am laughing but kinda horrified but my first thought was Bumblebee sneaking away from her bodyguards and going out for a day of shenanigans.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader, daughter nicknamed Bumblebee

CW: Fluff

WC: Drabble

AN: Part of the Bumblebee series.

While you're running around, finishing some last-minute things, Bee manages to get her little hands on the keys to her personalized Barbie Lamborghini.

Her bodyguards catch her making a break for the garage when you go upstairs to grab your purse. She's in her tiny car and backing down the driveway by the time Nino and Ronan reach the stairs.

She has everything she needs for her impromptu getaway. Mr. Tato strapped in the passenger seat. Her partially unzipped purse full of monies and snacks is bouncing in the back. A rolled up coloring book and a handful of crayons in the cup holders. Your sunglasses sitting crooked on her face, the frames slipping down her nose.

Bee tips her head back in time to see her bodyguards casually strolling after her. Nino holds up his phone, her eyes widen at the sound of your voice crackling through the speaker—Bumblebee get your butt back in here—and she hits the gas with a wild giggle.

She flies down the driveway at an impressive 5 miles an hour. This girl has places to be and no one is going to stop her.

Bee knows her Papa is somewhere past the towering iron wrought gates leading to the road.

She'll find him before you catch her.

Or so she thinks anyway.

"Bumblebee," you call out, hand on your hip. "You are in so much trouble. Are those my glasses?"

A quick glance over her shoulder and she lets out a yelp. When did you get here and why are you so close? Why is her car slowing down?

Her ballet flat taps the gas pedal with short frustrated jabs but her tires roll to a slow, defeating stop. She turns the steering wheel but goes nowhere. "Dab it."

Shaking your head, you suppress your laugh. "Sorry Bee."

"Mommy." Bee slumps in her seat as defeat sinks in, pushing the sunglasses back to reveal her cinched brows and adorable pout. "My car broked."

You slide the remote control in your back pocket and feign sympathy while hiding your amusement at the fact that she didn't get far. "Aw it is? Your papa will fix it when he gets home. Where were you going?"

'Papa's office." She states with a shrug. It should be obvious. Where else would she be going on a Wednesday morning? Letting you unbuckle her and Mr. Tato, she explains. "Papa needs my help with business. I knows it, Mommy."

Her earnest explanation brings a smile to your face. She's so cute.

You can't even be mad at her toddler version of prison break. He left the house in a hurry this morning, Bee overheard him arguing on the phone with someone on his way out. That must be why she felt the need to help him. You pluck the glasses off her face and put them on yours before collecting her and all her things in your arms.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" You head to the garage, the warm sun on your back. Kissing the top of her hair, you inhale the soft scents of her lavender lotion mixed with your perfume, she had asked you to spray a little on her wrists this morning.

"I got inpants and has to go fast." She shrugs, plopping her chin on your shoulder. "No times to waits," she sings out, waving at Nino who's carrying her car back inside.

"Impatient?" You clarify, stopping in front of your car.

"Yeah my inpants gots bad. I sorry."

She had time to snag some art supplies, a cupcake and a bunch of veggie straws though. You'd be miffed at her priorities but you're used to her toddler logic by now and it makes sense. Kinda.

You get the wiggling toddler in her car seat along with her dino and purse. Rummaging through it, you find a few veggie straws which she takes with a happy tank you.

"Next time you wait for me okay? It's not nice to leave without me." Your soft smile gentles the reprimand and she mirrors your expression. "No matter how impatient you get, don't leave me behind. I'll get real sad if you do."

Bee nods, grabbing your hand with crumb-coated fingers. "Okays. I pwomise to waits for mommy. I don't want you to be sads."

She'll probably forget this whole thing in a few weeks and you'll end up having this conversation again. Yet looking down at her, seeing the perfect combination of you and Bucky in her sweet face, you honestly don't mind.

You kiss her chubby cheeks and buckle her in. "How about we go to the bookstore?"

She loves the one downtown, it's an independent place run by a librarian. Bee perks up, it's almost as fun at the toy store next door.

"Mr. Tato wants a dino book." She beams, squeezing him in her hands. "And I needs a Bluey book for my office."

"He said we should get coffee while we're out," You reply, starting the engine. There's a place nearby that makes the perfect latte for you and a not to sweet chocolate milk for her. "When we're done, we'll take Papa out for lunch and then we'll see if he wants any help with work."

"He does mommy. He needs us."

Bucky will agree with that.

You take off, looking in your rear view mirror to find Bee still hugging Mr. Tato as she talks about dino books, ballerinas and Bluey.

You never would have imagined that this imaginative, rambunctious, sweet girl would be the best part of your day. And you're on way to meet the second best part.

At the office.

"Mr. Barnes, your one o'clock is here. I told him he's early but he's—," Kate hesitates, eyes lifting to the ceiling with a slight cant of her head.

She doesn't want to offend in case this man is important to her boss, but she doesnt want to lie to the pakhan either.

She finally settles on "—insistent that you meet with him now. Do you want me to let him up?"

Bucky picks up on the frazzled edge to her voice despite her best attempts to hide it.

Insistent.

Bucky's knows all about the heir and his insistent nature.

Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Put him in the conference room on the fifth floor. Tell Adrian and Victor to wait in the hallway and to inform me if he does anything."

"Yes sir."

Bucky leans back in his chair and goes back to the hotel blueprints he was reviewing. After this, he's going to select your anniversary gift.

The heir can wait until his scheduled appointment or he can leave. Bucky doesn't give a fuck, he's not the one drowning in debt.

There's only a handful of people on this earth that can demand his time and attention.

And Ransom Drysdale is not one of them.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x reader

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takamimami · 9 months ago

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The Supernova Captains | how they 'tell' you that they missed you.

Pairing: Kidd, Law, and Luffy x fem!reader (use of y/n)

little blurbs about how the captains tell you that they missed you when they were gone, even if they don't use those words :3

CW: SMUT, fluff and smut, cunnilingus, fingering, pretty tame/nothing crazy

🔞NSFW; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS KEEP IT MOVING🔞

👒

Whenever Luffy is away from you for an extended period of time, you have come to expect that the days immediately following your reunion will be spent with him hanging on you, literally. Every second he can he is either leaning on you while hugging you around your shoulders, sometimes putting more weight on you than he realizes, or he is napping with his head tucked in your lap as you gently play with his hair. He always returns from his missions exhausted, often taking extended naps that have you on the verge of being concerned, even checking that he is still breathing every once in a while.

If he wakes up and he's not in your lap, he’ll immediately begin to look for you, craving your presence as if you two had spent a lifetime apart. He’d finally end up finding you in the kitchen, helping Sanji prepare some food for him since his routine is usually “eat, sleep, and repeat” when he is recovering from a mission. Once he finds you he’d wrap his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your back, breathing in your scent and letting out a satisfying sigh.

“Don’t know what smells better, you or the food,” he’d mutter playfully as he hung onto you like a koala, making it hard for you to stand up straight, but laughing at his compliment none the less. After his meal he would drag you with him back to his quarters, lazily plopping down on the bed with you nestled in his arms. He’d pepper gentle kisses over your face and neck as he slowly moved down your body, his kisses growing sloppier as he moved lower and lower.

“Sanji’s food is good, but this is the meal I was really missing,” he’d chuckle softly as he pulled down your shorts and moved your underwear to the side, wasting no time before gliding his tongue through your folds and circling it around your clit. Your body would squirm at the sudden sensation, and he’d throw an arm around your hip to hold you in place as he guided his tongue deeper, his nose tickling your clit as he massages your walls with his tongue.

He’d hum in satisfaction as your pussy spasmed for him, moving his mouth up to suck and lick at your clit as you push his face away, trying to catch your breath.

“‘M still hungry, Y/N,” he’d drawl, smirking as he brushes away your hands and connects his lips to your clit again as you gripped the sheets tightly, never one to deprive him of his favorite meal.

🐯

Since it always seems like he is off doing side quests, Law makes it very well known that he missed you, especially if the mission was any bit stressful (aka the straw hats were involved).

When he finally reunites with his crew, you are always the first one he seeks out, often finding you hidden away in his lab reading or helping Bepo with one-off tasks. When he finds you he’ll usually pull you in for a tight hug, his lanky arms wrapping tightly around your middle as he rests his cheek on the top of your hair. This usually lasts for some time, the crew knowing to leave you two be. You can practically feel Law’s tension in his shoulders melting away with each deep inhale of your scent, his eyes shut as he relishes being in your vicinity once more.

Once he’s held you long enough he’ll lift his head and kiss your forehead, and this usually follows with you asking him how his mission went. If he tells you, it means it wasn’t as big of a headache as he expected, and if he ignores your question and instead asks how you were while he was away, you know that is his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk about it. He’d much rather hear you talk about yourself than re-live the hellish events of trying to get Luffy to stick to a plan.

But, the way Law really shows you how much he missed you is when he’s finally able to get you alone. He’ll take his time gently undressing you, appreciating every curve of your body as he runs his soft hands over them, missing the way your skin feels beneath his fingers. He’d revel in the way his fingers would leave trails of goosebumps everywhere they went, letting out a small his when he finally swiped a finger through your drenched folds.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he’d whisper, dropping his head down to your breast he was kneading in his other hand, taking your nipple between his teeth teasingly. He’d keep his eyes on you the entire time, unable to look away as he watched your face contort in pleasure. When he slips the first finger inside you he’d feel his cock twitch in his pants, but it's the sound that leaves your mouth as he curls a second finger into your velvet walls that would have him nearly coming in his pants.

But he would compose himself, for now, working his magic fingers inside you as your moans filled the room, a soothing song to the chaos inside his head. He’d have you like this for hours, bringing you to the edge over and over again just so he could hear the way your voice caught in your throat when you cried out his name and feel how your body trembled from the over-stimulation.

“Just one more,” he’d plead breathlessly into your ear as you clamped around his fingers, regardless of your half-hearted attempts at protesting, “Gotta make up for lost time.”

🌷

Kidd would never admit how much he misses you when he’s away, simply for the sheer fact that he is a stubborn man and would rather die than hear his crew tease him about yet another thing when it comes to you. He grows incredibly restless on the return trip to the Victoria Punk, and either Heat, Wire, or Killer are sure to point out that you are the reason Kidd is in such a rush to return home.

So much so, that when he returns from a mission away he makes it a point not to seek you out and instead disappears into his workshop, knowing that is going to be the first place you come looking for him once you learn of his arrival.

Knowing how headstrong your lover is, you head below deck as soon as you notice Killer and Wire making their way to their quarters, almost positive that is where you will find Kidd.

You’d knock on the door and hear a grunt from inside before swinging open the door, Kidd’s eyes flicking over to you briefly before he turns back to whatever gadget he’d decided to work on.

Once you reach where he is seated you’d massage his shoulders or run your fingers through his hair, trying to gauge what mood he had returned home in. If he was in a good mood he’d stay quiet, letting you continue your ministrations until you inevitably broke the silence and asked about the mission. However most of the time, he’d grumble and flinch away from your touch, “What is it? Can’t ya see I’m busy?”

Growing accustomed to this facade, you’d sit on the bench near his workstation while he worked, grabbing a book from the shelf to occupy yourself or simply just watch him work until he dropped the act.

When he can no longer take the distance anymore he’ll reach over with his metal arm and pull you into his lap roughly, a cheeky smirk on his face as he observes the excitement in your eyes.

“You miss me that much, Y/N?” he’d growl in your ear, pulling you closer to his chest when he felt your heart rate quicken. “Couldn’t wait to come in here and distract me, hm?”

His teasing sends a chill down your spine, and you feel the tent in his pants grow as you rock your hips into him teasingly. You’d nod your head as you looked up at him, biting down on your lip as he picked you up and carried you down the hall to his quarters.

He’d hurriedly kick off his boots and pull off his pants after dropping you on the bed, nearly stumbling over as he made his way back to the bed. Your giggle at his clumsiness would make him growl lowly, and you’d teasingly laugh even louder as he approached the bed.

“Maybe you missed me a little bit too, hm, Captain?”

“Not a fucking chance,” he’d snarl as he flips you over, pulling your hips up into the air and bullying his fat cock inside of you without warning. He’d press your head into the pillow as your moans grew louder, trying to drown out the sounds of you so he wouldn’t come prematurely. He’s nearly always unsuccessful, however, his cock twitching as he pulls out of you and hot cum leaks from his cock and your cunt.

It’s then you press your luck by flipping onto your back and smirking up at him, propping your self up on your elbows as you lick your lips. “Need a minute?”

Your teasing has him lunging forward and kissing you roughly, biting your bottom lip as he pushes his semi-hard cock back inside you, a grunted “fuck you,” leaving his lips as he begins rocking his hips back into you again.

my last supernova captains post got so much love, tysm :') i've been recovering from a migraine and pms-ing so sorry if there are typos or mistakes anywhere, I kinda posted this without proof reading lol :3 lemme know what you think, and if you liked it, I would love it if you liked and reblogged to spread the love <3 ✨come say hai :3✨

Do not copy, repost or translate.

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 3 months ago

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best friend!rafe cameron having a rough day so since he doesn’t know what else to do to take the edge off he sneaks into his bsf room while she’s studying and cuddle her (fluffy)

when everythings wrong, you make it right

best friend!rafe cameron x innocent!virgin!fem!reader

cw — fluff

summary — after a stressful day of dealing with business, rafe seeks comfort from his best friend.

authors note — thank you for the request love!! i hope this is okay cause i wrote it all little quick. this can be read as a standalone but is aprt of my best friend!rafe au which can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist. please request more!!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

rafe was so done everything. it seemed like everyone was just testing his patience and he didn’t have very much to begin with. today was supposed to be a simple business day until barry decided to fuck it all up and order the wrong shipments of parts they needed. then him lying about it was his final straw.

he was the main owner of their shared business, so of course he had to be the one to make the call to the company and deal with being on hold for hours until a representative could speak with him. on top of that, the supplied they actually needed were now out of stock because his partner had waited too long. the moment he hung up, him and barry got into it over him being too irresponsible.

to say the least, he was overstimulated and he just needed to unwind. he found himself getting into his truck and speeding down the route he’d memorized so well over the last few months.

he shuffled through his keys and opened up the front door. of course he had his own key to your place. how else was he supposed to check on you and keep you safe? he locked it behind himself and quickly sped up the stairs to your room.

without knocking or even announcing his presence, he opened the door and let himself in. you gasped at the sight of him out of shock and placed a hand on your heart. “hi, rafey. you scared me,” you said softly.

he smiled at you, his entire mood shifting almost instantly. “didn’t mean to, sweetheart,” he mumbled while kicking off his shoes and moving to lay beside you in your bed. you were surrounded by textbooks with an open notebook in your lap and a pen in hand, scribbling down whatever notes you were reading about.

“what are you doing here? i thought you were meant to be at the office a little longer,” you asked curiously, writing down some stuff you’d just remembered.

he shrugged and moved one of the books from under him. “jus’ needed to see you. had a long day.”

you frowned and shut your notebook. “wanna talk about it? or we can watch a movie? or maybe go get ice cream?”

rafe smiled softly to himself and turned his head to admire you. you were always so thoughtful. “c’mere. i just wanna lay with you for a bit.”

you returned his smile before carefully gathering your textbooks and slowly placing them on the bedside table. you crawled underneath the comforters beside him and cuddled close into his side. one of his arms instinctively wrapped around your waist while the one on the other side of him rested on his stomach.

he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and immediately felt himself relax. he could die a very happy man right in this spot. it was as if nothing else mattered when he was with you. suddenly, he was unsure why he was ever even mad in the first place.

#gracies asks and requests 💌#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader

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alchemistc · 1 month ago

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Consider this the emotional sibling of the Eddie Makes It Worse series.

"I have thought about it, you know," Eddie says, and Tommy nearly inhales the straw of his stupidly sweet cocktail. That's what he gets for always accepting the drinks Buck decides a sip in aren't to his taste.

Eddie gives him a hearty slap on the back, and continues before Tommy's done more than wheeze.

"I had to recontextualize like, seven years of my life after Buck met you. After you turned him into an insane person and also somehow a teenage girl with her first crush and no control or understanding of her emotions."

Tommy's too busy trying to stretch the knot out of his neck and breathe through his nose to call him out on gendering his comparisons. In his experience, boys are the ones committing violence for attention. Not the point. So not the point, and he breathed half an ounce of vodka on top of that.

"I'm - sorry, what did you have to think about?"

Tommy absolutely knows what he's talking about. Eddie absolutely knows he knows. It's not quite out of left field, but definitely center field facing a righty before the shift got banned.

"About Buck. Me and Buck. Us and our... thing."

The shock of Eddie being introspective about this enough to be able to articulate it is enough to keep him quiet. He's not a dumb man. Far from it. It's just - in Tommy's experience Eddie tends to avoid looking internally with the same fervor you try to avoid latrine duty.

Eddie's watching him. Waiting for a reaction. They've already done this song and dance, so Tommy's not entirely sure what to do with this. What reaction Eddie's looking for.

"Okay?" Tommy prods, and Eddie rolls his eyes like the diva he is.

"Okay so, I'm saying. I am 100% sure I'm very straight. Because after Buck came out I thought about it."

"What are you saying?" That's his uncontrollably bitchy tone, right there. His eyebrows are probably putting in work. Eddie seems...incredibly nonplussed.

"I'm saying I thought about it."

Tommy rewinds. Considers the context that got them here, at the bar top, gathering a round for the table...Russo, Hen and Karen, Evan... Karen had made some offhand comment about Eddie and Evan that had made Eddie's eyes dart to his like he was looking for signs that Tommy was wearing Nike Zooms.

"Sorry, are you taking this opportunity, in this moment, to tell me you're definitely straight because you fantasized about fucking my boyfriend?"

Two stools down, a woman wearing a pair of neon suspenders and steel toe boots flicks her eyes away from them in the mirror over the bar.

Eddie's eye roll is always a marvel to behold, but this one might take the cake as far as disdainful energy rolling off him like an aura goes.

"Yeah, like you were worried about the physical attraction."

"Are you saying there is physical attraction?" What the fuck. What the fuck. Where the hell is he going with this?

"I'm saying we're each other's next of kin and he's in my will and I may be more subtle about it but I'm just as weird about him as he is about me. It's, like, contagious, man."

Tommy has to give him that point. His insanity levels have increased exponentially since meeting Evan Buckley. Realizing that taking the lid off of that actually made them stronger as a couple had really opened things up.

"I was having a nice night," Tommy says, and tries to wrangle this conversation back into some semblance of order. "What, exactly, are you trying to tell me?" Eddie opens his mouth and Tommy has to stop himself from smacking his hand across his lips to prevent him from speaking. He points a finger, instead. "If you say you thought about it, I swear to Christ, Diaz..."

"I think Buck probably had a crush on me when we first met. You know - pulling the pigtails, desperate to know way too much about me, that kind of thing."

Great. Cool. Tommy's feeling really good about where this is going.

"And I think I fucking desperately needed someone to love me, no strings attached. And Buck - he did that. No question. Almost from the jump."

Tommy downs the rest of the cocktail in one go. Yep. Still as bad as he remembered.

"So. After you guys got together, I... added some context. You weren't the only one who thought he was pissed at me for finding a second friend."

"What was your conclusion, exactly?"

"He's my best friend, Tommy. Family, in a way no one else will ever come close to. If he called and asked if I had a shovel, I'd be researching endangered plant species before we even got off the phone."

Getting Eddie into true crime podcasts was a mistake. "Ride or die, yeah, we all know."

"See, I don't think you do, Tommy. I really don't think you do."

If they could get to the point, already, Tommy might not have to gouge his own eye out with the cocktail straw poking temptingly out of the empty glass in front of him.

"Because as much as I care about him, as much as he cares about me - we'd never be what the other needed. I'm too in my own head all the time. He's - way too needy." Tommy wants to contest this assassination of his boyfriends character, but Eddie seems like he might actually be meandering somewhere near the point. "And, yeah, sure, I did once attempt to figure out if I was attracted to him."

Jesus fucking Christ. They're in a bar. They have an audience, at this point, even if it is just the lesbian couple two stools over and the bartender who's either needs to tap a new keg or learn how to pour without creating a drink that's mostly head.

"My point is the only reason you should be concerned about me is if you ever piss Buck off bad enough for him to need an alibi."

The words come out before he's had time to filter them through his brain. "Did you get off?"

Yeah. The cocktail was mostly vodka, but there's no way in hell he can blame that entirely on alcohol. He'd had a wallowing jack-off or two featuring more than just Evan, in the months he'd drive past Evan's loft hoping for some rain and for Sia to organically pop up on his Spotify station.

Eddie slides a shot of tequila in Tommy's direction. He doesn't remember ordering those. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Edmundo."

"Thomathan."

Tommy takes the shot without bothering to cheers him. He doesn't deserve the time it would take for his mouth to form the "Salute". Hell, he's not even worthy of a "Cin Cin", not with his face doing whatever it's doing right now.

"Tell Buck he's welcome from me," Eddie says, and before Tommy can do much more than blink he's gathering up all but Tommy and Evan's drinks to take them back to their table.

This feels like a mind game. He isn't sure whether he's meant to be grateful, or murderous. Two stools down, Suspenders swivels to stare at him. "You look like you just got slapped in the face with a fish," she says. The bartender eyes him like she might be thinking of pouring him another shot.

"Hi," Evan says, directly into his ear, and Tommy jolts. "Eddie said you were right behind him. Did your arms stop working?"

"Just his brain, honey," Suspenders chimes in. The woman to her left titters into her hand.

"Give it to me straight," Tommy says, and Suspenders snorts into her drink. "Has Eddie told you about his Thinking About It process?"

"Oh, with the trying to picture enjoying me naked?"

Tommy pinches his nose and makes a valiant effort to ignore the hand slapping down on the bar top to his left, the canned attempt at hiding a choked laugh. "Sure. That. Normal best friend things."

"If it makes you feel any better, I think I got even less enjoyment out of it than he did."

Suspenders wheezes.

"You did it together?"

"Gross, Tommy."

"Oh, sure, I'm the one reacting weirdly to this."

"If it makes you feel any better, we were broken up. And the only reason I even thought of it was - you know. Tech- technically your fault. You were the one wining and dining my straight best friend while I was trying to get your attention."

Suspenders girlfriend is having a conveniently timed coughing fit.

"Am I having a stroke?" Tommy asks, but it comes out perfectly coherent, so knock that off the list.

"Do you wanna go home?" Evan has the ability to switch moods on a dime. Tommy's really never seen someone so good at it. "I can settle the tab. I - are you okay? Do you need - water, or - " he's reaching for a stool " - or we can sit."

Tommy's been resistant to being taken care of since he can remember. There's something to the way Evan approaches it - purposeful, the opposite of effortless - that makes Tommy want to crumble like a house of cards. He snags Evan's wrist in his hand. "Evan."

As usual, that's all it takes to still him, for a moment. The cheeks rise, the dimples grow more prominent, his eyes alight on Tommy's like he's seeing something worth looking at.

"I love you. Your best friend is insane and you're half a step behind him, and I love you."

It's not the first time. Thank fuck, that would be a terrible way to drop that bomb. But it's still new enough not to be casual. New enough to make Evan's cheeks burn a rosy pink.

Evan smirks. "You wanna get out of here?"

He'd been enjoying a conversation with Karen, twenty minutes ago, but he doubts he'd be able to form a single coherent thought anymore. The green demon he's kept under wraps for forever now has somehow both gone dormant and is currently trying to convince him to toss Evan over his shoulder and make a break for it.

Tommy makes eye contact with the bartender. Raps his knuckles against the bar top.

Evan's grin goes a little feral.

#bucktommy #don't look at me #bucktommy fic #tevan fic

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cutielando · 2 months ago

Text

miss possessive | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which you don't even realize how possessive you can get over your handsome boyfriend

a/n: based on this request!

pairing: charles leclerc x jealous!reader

my masterlist

You weren’t jealous.

You weren’t.

It was just an observation, that’s all.

You sat at a table inside the Ferrari motorhome, absentmindedly stirring the ice in your drink with a straw as your eyes locked onto her.

Léa Bisset. The journalist.

The one who always seemed to hover around Charles just a little too much whenever she was in the paddock.

She was standing close—too close—to Charles, laughing at something he’d said. You rolled your eyes, watching as she tilted her head back dramatically, placing a hand on his forearm as she laughed.

God. Did she have to touch him?

You inhaled sharply through your nose, trying to focus on literally anything else, but Pierre’s knowing chuckle from across the table made your annoyance spike.

“You’re glaring” Pierre pointed out, sipping his espresso like this was his favorite form of entertainment.

“I am not” you denied, not taking your eyes off of Charles and her.

“You are,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And you’re jealous.”

You scoffed, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“I am not jealous, Pierre”

He smirked. “Then why do you look like you’re about to go over there and tackle Léa to the ground?”

“I just don’t like her,” you muttered, turning back to your drink. “She’s always acting like Charles belongs to her.”

Pierre hummed, clearly unconvinced.

“You do realize Charles loves you, right? He barely notices her.”

“He’s noticing her now, isn't he?” you asked, clicking your tongue as you motioned towards where your boyfriend was still talking to that complete and total bitch.

Pierre exhaled a laugh, shaking his head.

“You should go over there. Mark your territory" he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes at his choice of words, but the idea of interrupting their little moment was suddenly too tempting to resist.

It was not in your nature to be acting like this, getting jealous over women talking to Charles, but she was pushing your buttons more than you cared to admit and more than any other female that had ever approached your boyfriend.

You stood abruptly, smoothing out your Ferrari team shirt with Charles' last name and number on your back, before striding across the room. Pierre let out a low whistle behind you, but you ignored him, not wanting to let anything change your mind from what you were about to do.

Charles looked up just as you reached them, his face instantly softening and his lips breaking out into a wide smile.

“Amour,” he greeted, but you didn’t give him time to say anything else.

With deliberate ease, you slid an arm around his waist, pressing yourself against his side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Miss me?” you asked sweetly, looking up at him through your lashes.

Charles’ lips twitched like he was trying not to smile, already having picked up on what you were trying to do.

“Of course.”

Léa raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly.

“We were just talking about the race,” she said, forcing a polite smile.

"That's nice, but now I'm going to have to steal my boyfriend away, sorry" you said, planting a very fake smile on your face as you glared at her.

Charles didn't say anything, trying his best not to start laughing at the whole situation.

"I think Charles can decide for himself, don't you?" she said, hoping that Charles would decide to talk to her more instead of following you, his girlfriend.

You hummed, glaring at her even more threateningly.

“Meh, that depends. Charles, didn’t you say you wanted to grab some food before your meetings? We kinda have to get going if you want to make it in time” you said, turning your attention to him.

"Right, yeah" he said, coughing and clearing his throat.

“Let’s go,” you said before she could say anything, you pulled him gently by the waist. “It was nice seeing you, Léa.”

You didn’t wait for a reply before walking off, Charles stumbling slightly as he let you drag him away.

Once you were out of earshot, Charles finally broke the silence, amusement laced in his voice.

“Mon amour,” he started, “was that necessary?”

You frowned, turning your attention to him.

“What?”

He stopped walking, gently tugging you back so you faced him. His green eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter.

“You were jealous, weren't you?” Charles asked, his voice laced with an undertone of teasing.

“I was not jealous” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him.

He raised an eyebrow, seeing past your flimsy attempts.

“You basically dragged me away from a conversation” he deadpanned.

“She was all over you, Charles,” you said, crossing your arms. “Touching your arm, laughing like you’re the funniest person alive-”

“I am pretty funny.”

You shot him a glare, not finding the situation funny in the slightest.

“Charles" you said, your voice dead serious.

He chuckled, hands finding your waist as he pulled you close.

“Chérie, I didn’t even notice. I was just being polite” he explained, his voice sporting a lot of understanding and patience.

This was far from the first time that he had had to calm you down from a jealousy fit, but he found it cute rather than annoying.

You sighed, feeling your resolve weaken and your anger slowly leaving your body.

“I just— I don’t like the way she looks at you” you confessed, your voice now soft and quiet.

Charles’ expression softened. He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You have nothing to worry about,” he murmured against your skin. “You’re the only one I want, you know that”

You exhaled, tension finally easing from your shoulders.

“I do know that, but I just can't help the way I feel whenever I see a woman who thinks they can flirt with you when I'm there, acting like they don't know who I am” you explained.

Charles sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, understanding your point of view.

"I get it, but you don't have to worry about any of them. It's part of my job to be polite to everyone, but that doesn't mean that I want any of them. You're the only one I want, and nothing is going to change that" he said, his voice soft.

You looked up into his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and reassurance in them.

You closed your eyes and let yourself fall against his chest, feeling his lips press a kiss against the crown of your head.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, smirking.

“But I must say… you’re very cute when you’re jealous” he said, his voice amused.

You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“I hate you” you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt.

He laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“No, you don’t” he said.

You grumbled something incoherent against his shirt, making him laugh harder.

“I think I like this side of you,” he teased. “Miss possessive”

You smacked his arm, but he just grinned, pulling you even closer.

And, despite yourself, you smiled too.

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4berries · 4 months ago

Text

just thinking ‘bout needy satoru … :>

warnings: 1.6k words of filth ig, gojo begging🙀?? , lots of pleadingggg, dry humping, outdoor party (at night), heavy pda & dirty talk, mentions of face sitting & cunnilingus 😺, slight sub gojo (?), slight dom reader (?), they’re both clearly switches tho, just reader calling gojo pretty & baby >>>, slight implications of rich gojo, mentions of bsf geto :))) tehhehh

note: inspired by bad bunny’s verse in his song “hibiki” … definitely recommend listening to it bc it’s the type of music i also think would be a perfect song for a party scene lollll

… ★

“please,” your boyfriend whispers softly, body pressing up against yours as his wandering hands roam all over your torso and his arms wrap around you tightly to keep you pressed on him. there’s a slight neediness to his tone, deep voice just edging desperation and the sound has you grinning madly.

you kept your eyes on the rest of your friends that seemed to be in their own world, laughing into night sky and talking in between having drinks, some of them already in the dance floor that you just returned from.

it seemed like your swift movements rubbing along his tall figure had his mind going elsewhere, his bright blue eyes trailing all over your lithe frame and gazing at the smooth way you whine your body against his. you noticed, of course, worrying your lip between your teeth before pulling him out the dance floor after whispering into his ear that it was getting too hot.

even if you were actually starting to heat up, both of you knew that it was obviously a doubt meaning, spoken in such a sensual tone.

you sipped on your alcohol, tongue playing around the plastic straw in between you lips before it pulling away and letting your drink rest on the bar counter next you both.

his large palms kept pulling you back, shamelessly feeling you all over the fabric of your black, body con dress and occasionally dipping to run over your other thighs. you leaned on him, leaning your head back onto his collarbone.

his lips were incredibly close to your ear, skimming closer to your cheek and down your jawline, hands now running upwards to your sides; it’s like he physically can’t keep his hands off of you.

all you could smell was his spicy vanilla cologne, scent as warm as his body heat as he continues to mindlessly and subtly rut his hips into your ass.

“baby,” he lets out a soft whine, clearly not caring about the others around you. he’s got tunnel vision. “please?”

the growing need was slowly becoming intolerable to him, mind reeling and body itching as he thinks about the way you moved your hips along his before, yearning to see you move just as sensual in the nearest room, just you two. he already knew which room exactly, his crystal blue eyes gazing around even before you pulled him out of the heated dance floor and into the fresh, cold air of the night.

“please what, satoru?” you mumble clear enough for him to hear you, feeling his hands grip tighter around your hips at the sound of your calm tone.

he’s intoxicated with everything about you. the way you know the affect you had on him, your confidence that attracted him from the very beginning, your playful tone that always seems to rival his, even the way you started to tease him by suddenly pushing your ass against his front ever-so- slightly.

he couldn’t help but whine in your ear, thick white eyelashes fluttering as he inhales the sweet coconut scent of your shampoo through his pointed nose. he’s so helpless, it’s absolutely cute. “please, baby, wanna fuck - need to fuck you so bad.”

if you weren’t relishing in his pure desire before, his evident neediness now had you purring, the sound of his voice increasing in pitch as he tries his hardest to keep his cool. he’s clearly failing and he clearly doesn’t care anyways. “or jus’ lemme lick you? or sit on my face? anything— god, anything ..”

your hands slide down over his forearms, rubbing the heated skin while you turn your head slightly towards his face. you’re nuzzling your nose into the side of his cheek, humming softly when he keeps leaning in closer. with each passing second, you can feel the need rolling off of him in waves, slowly bringing you down with him.

“you’re that needy, pretty?” you coo, letting your parted lips skim over his jawline and flushed neck.

“mm- mhmm,” he hums, sweet voice becoming lighter and more breathless as you nuzzle into him.

slowly, you’re falling into your own world, not giving a care about the other’s on the outside. he has that sort of affect on you; he pulls you in, making you fall for his trap into always getting what he wants. you know he’s utterly spoiled, you know you shouldn’t indulge in his constant want for more, but how could you ignore him when he’s begging so nicely?

and you can’t deny that he has spoiled you as well. there’s something magnetic between the two of you where you just can’t help but be greedy for each other’s full attention. he was starting to rub off on you, a yearning settling deep into your core as well.

you just needed one more push for you to snap, and that’s when satoru spoke up once again, lips grazing along your plumped cheek to murmur in his whiny voice. “just one quick fuck, please… nobody would know we’re gone.”

so so tempting.

“satoru,” you sigh out, turning your head away and press your lips together. the sound of your voice was laced with the same need, clearly giving away how truly affected you were and it only added on to the heated arousal pooling into his stomach. he moans softly into your ear, rubbing his hardening cock against the curve of your ass with more rush as his hands slide down towards your outer thighs, long fingers running through the hanging pieces of ruffles on the hem of your silky smooth dress.

now you both were a mess for each other, bodies slotted tightly together to get some sort of friction between the fabric of your clothes — it was all too bothersome and you wanted to do something about it already, your hands gripping onto his wrists.

“baby, i’ll fuck it in if you just give me permission…” you held tighter as his whiny words sank all the way down to your core — you had to bite onto your bottom lip to muffle your noises, eyelashes fluttering as you lower your unfocused gaze to hide your face. your dress was slowly riding up your thighs and you can’t decipher whether the goosebumps rising on your skin were from the cold air you felt licking on your inner thighs or from the sinful nature of his words flowing in your ear so naturally.

so shamelessly..

and still, he just kept going.

“wanna see you ride me and roll your hips on me again jus’ like that,” he murmurs, now pressing his soft lips onto your neck in between his words. “wanna see your mascara running, your eyes rolling back when i fuck into you harder— just how you like it, baby.” your chest heaved harder with every soft whimper he emits into your ear. “wanna pump you full then lick you clean…”

“wanna ruin this dress- gods, this dress, hugging your curves so well— you look so good in it, but i jus’ wanna rip it off.” he groans, smooth hands running along your plush thighs and over your dress before squeezing around your hips for emphasis.

you whimper at his heavy touch, suddenly feeling extra heated. and even though the idea was tempting, you couldn’t help but shake your head slightly with a slight pout on your plumped lips.

“don’t worry baby, i’ll buy you another, i promise- just please,” satoru immediately sensed your denial to the idea, reassuring you quickly with the promise of another shopping run, despite having a lust-clouded mind.

and even though he’s just rambling to talk and get you to relent to your own desires with his whiny tone, you knew he definitely meant it; he loves spoiling his baby, pulling out his black card for every single thing he saw your eyes lingered a bit longer on — one of them being the very dress you had on. even when he’s not able to go with you, he’ll hand you his card without another word or question.

sometimes you don’t like it, choosing to humbly decline almost every time but just the action of him doing that for you was so attractive. you are truly spoiled so you can’t help but finally succumb and spoil him as well, just this one moment.

he looked so good anyways; black, tight compression shirt outlining every muscle on his torso and arms, paired with slightly baggy black pants held up with a black belt and a single gold chain wrapped around his neck. you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist by the end of the night, you just didn’t think your resilience would crumble this fast.

“okay, okay,” you mumble, letting your head roll back onto his collarbone as he sucks a purple mark right below your earlobe. “gods, satoru, you’re so needy.”

he hums softly, tongue peeking out to lick over the bruise before he pulls away to purr into your ear. “only for you, baby. you know i’m always craving you.”

“c’mon, sugu’s room.“ he mutters in a hurried breath, then quickly pulls away, grabbing your wrist to pull you close with him as he pushes towards the entrance of his house, making a beeline towards the destination with a stumbling pace.

you were too far gone to even question or reject the idea now. satoru definitely chose his best friend’s room specifically cause it’s the closest room once you step foot into the house; no other reason.

and surely nobody will notice that the host of the party has disappeared..

right?

… ★

note: just something about seeing the strongest be so .. weak somehow AAAAAHHHHH yes :)

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keys-hellscape-1020 · 10 months ago

Text

Sharing a Blunt with them

A/N: I honestly feel like out of all of them Tim would be the only one to smoke butttt this is fiction and I do what I want so I hope you all enjoy. Also I went to my first ever county fair today and I got licked by a cow. I can die happy now.

Dick Grayson x gn!reader, Jason Todd x gn!reader, Tim Drake x gn!reader

Content warnings: Weed, descriptions of getting high, Jason’s and Tim’s get smutty (my bad), oral sex (but it’s not detailed)

————

Dick Grayson

So this man would only get high if he’d been with you for a while. At first he out right refused to do anything with you, which you had respected. Over time however he sees how it affects you and he gets… curious.

It’s a lazy Saturday evening, Dick had gotten some of his many siblings to cover his patrol for him so he could take the night off with you. He’s watching you roll a blunt when he speaks so softly you can barely hear him.

“Could I try it?” He asks softly, watching the way you roll the paper with practiced precision.

You blank for a moment, stopping your movements as you glance up at him. When you’d first gotten together he’d been adamantly against doing it, and yet here he was… asking for a hit.

“Sure.” You say softly as you finish rolling it. You reach for a lighter and let the flame lick against the end of the blunt. You take a small hit and exhale into the air above you before passing the blunt to Dick.

“You ever hit anything before?” Dick shakes his head dumbly, like all thought had left his brain just from thinking of getting high.

“Alright.” You say as you gently guide his hand, and thus the blunt, towards his mouth. “Just suck on it like a straw for a half second, and then take a deep breath in.”

He hesitates a moment, looking at you for confirmation. When he gets it in the form of a gentle nod from you he follows your instructions and inhales carefully.

You wait a moment before pulling his wrist back, not wanting him to get to high right off the bat. You watch as he exhaled shakily, hesitating a moment before keeling over in a coughing fit. “Shit, sorry baby I forgot to warn you about the coughing.” You exclaim, rubbing his back gently in an attempt to soothe him. “You’ll be okay. Just breathe through it babe. Just breathe.”

It takes a few moments but he does stop coughing, and when he sits up he has a slightly glassy look in his eyes. “Holy shit.” He mummers. “I didn’t think that’d do anything.”

You can’t help but laugh gently as you take another hit, still gently rubbing his shoulder. “You okay baby?” You ask as you exhale, smoke billowing out of your mouth as you speak.

He nods, gazing upon you in what seems to be awe. “I uh- I really didn’t think that’d do anything.” He repeats and he leans forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair as you finish off the rest of the blunt, Dick sitting still against your side.

As you finish off the blunt and toss the end into a nearby ash tray you carefully refocus your attention on the pile of vigilante that’s glued to your side. “You sure you’re okay baby?” You ask carefully, getting a half awake nod in response.

In the future when Dick gets high with you it goes much the same, he takes one, maybe two hits and he is out for the count. He gets clingy and touchy while high, not capable of doing much outside of craving skin contact and rambling about how pretty you are. Give him some water and don’t leave him alone until he’s more or less sober again and he’ll be just fine.

Overall, as long as you know what you’re doing, 7/10 to share a blunt with.

————

Jason Todd

This man has gotten high before, but he only does it once in a blue moon when he’s really stressed and his options for stress relief are either getting high or brutally killing someone. He knows it’s not healthy, but that’s never stopped him before. And besides, he still feels it’s better than the alternative.

I feel like the first time you get high with him would be on a stormy night, you’re lounging in bed in one of Jay’s T-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. You’re on your phone, waiting until your common sense kicks in and tells you to put it down and go to sleep.

You’re lazily scrolling when you jump out of bed due to the sounds of crashing, stomping, and cursing coming from your living room. You carefully creep down your dimly let hallway, the baseball bat you keep under your bed gripped tightly in your hands.

You visibly relax at the sight of Jason in your living room, Red Hood helmet thrown on the floor and fiddling with something in his hands.

“You’re back early.” You say softly, resting your baseball bat against the wall as you walk behind him, resting your hands on his leather-clad shoulders.

He makes a vague grunt of acknowledgment at you and you peer over his shoulder to see what he’s doing. You stare in shock when you see him rolling a blunt.

“Uh, you gonna smoke that Jay?” You ask blankly, your grip on his shoulders loose in shock.

“Well I’m not messing with this shitty paper for fun.” He grunts quietly, laser focused on what his hands were doing.

You hop over the back of the couch to land next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch him finish rolling the blunt, light it, and take a long drag. He exhales deeply before offering it to you.

You take the blunt and take a drag before passing it back to him. “Didn’t know you smoked Jay.” You mumble, pressing yourself against his side. He responds by leaning against the back of the couch with a groan, wrapping his arm around your shoulder while man-spreading shamelessly.

“Not normally.” He explains as he takes another hit. “But people were being fucking stupid today.” As he speaks his arm tightens around you slightly

You let out a hum of acknowledgment as he hands you the blunt, taking another hit as you look him up and down thoughtfully. “I could help take your mind off that.” You comment, already moving to lower yourself between his meaty thighs.

If this man is getting high, you know he’s very stressed. Give him some sloppy head and let him rut into you tiredly to help take his mind off it.

Overall 8/10 to get high with.

————

Tim Drake

Now this man is a whole different story, this man gets high at least 3 times a week. He comes home from a hard patrol? He’s pulling out a cart and taking a blinker before researching his latest case (he’s a firm believer he does his best work while blasted).

You want to spend a night in and get high? Sign him the fuck up. He’s not really a fan of blunts, he says they’re too much work, but he only gets the best of the best quality carts.

He’s fun to get high with too, he’ll lay across your lap, eyes tinged red as he takes another hit and coughs out a laugh before going on a rant about moth man and how he’s about 47% certain that’s he’s real. Say anything that vaguely sounds like a contradiction and he’ll launch into a rant about how you’re supposed to be on his side (all the while practically trying to bury himself in your skin).

Oh and you’ll be in for a long night if you get clingy while high. You lightly run your finger tips over his hip bone, trace a finger nail over the muscle of his arm, practically anything, and the next thing you know you’re on your back, your pants are nowhere to be seen, and you’re getting head so good you’re seeing stars. Tim normally has something to prove, Tim while high sees nothing wrong with showing you just why he’s the best. And if you can barely walk tomorrow? Well that’s just an added bonus.

You should definitely get high with Tim if given the chance, he’s bound to make you laugh and otherwise enjoy yourself. But whatever you do, make sure you have no plans tomorrow morning.

Overall 10/10, hope you don’t like walking cause you won’t be doing much of it.

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year ago

Text

not-so-secret secret (t.n. & m.r.)

Theo has always had a crush on you, but with you being his best friend's step-sister, he never did anything… but then he realized how close Mattheo was to you. Got damn, this drabble is 2.3K words.

“You can’t date my bloody sister,” Mattheo snapped, shaking his head before throwing his head back to chug down a shot of firewhisky. “You’re fucking insane.”

Theo shook his head along with Mattheo, sighing. “Y-You know that I wouldn’t-“

“With the way you look at her, yeah you would,” Mattheo shook his head as his eyes trailed your form at the Slytherin party, a slight bite of his lip making Theo look at you too. “Angel! Come over here.”

You paused your actions of dancing with your friends, grabbing your drink to walk over to the two friends. Theo loved to watch you saunter over, your hips swaying as you stood next to Mattheo who wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you flush against his side.

“Go get me another drink, yeah?” Mattheo looked up at you as you hummed softly, giving him yours.

“I’m not going to finish it, I didn’t like it,” you explained as he took it, seemingly not bothered that your step-brother had his arm wrapped around you.

Theo didn’t have siblings, so that must have been normal, right?

“Thank you, angel,” he hummed as he took your drink, taking a sip before jerking his head at Theo. “Get Theo a drink then, yeah? He needs one.”

You hummed again, nodding as you smiled at Theo. “What do you want?”

“Whatever,” Theo wasn’t going to be picky when you were going to get him a drink. “I’ll take whatever you get for me.”

You nodded, letting your fingers twirl in his hair. “Okay.”

It was a simple reaction for him to lean into your touch making you giggle, his head following your touch before you walked away, making Mattheo laugh. “Goodness… you’re fucking whipped.”

Quickly, Theo looked over, shaking his head. “N-No, I’m not-”

“Yes the fuck you are,” Mattheo’s voice has a dangerous bite to it as he glared at Theo. “You better stay the fuck away from her.”

This was confusing to Theodore. He watched as you walked over, your green dress slipping further up your thighs as you weaved through people, but he watched as you finally stood in front of him and gave him the drink. “Here! I got you your favorite.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” Theo said as you sat on the couch between the two of them, lifting up your legs to place your thighs on Mattheo’s. Theo watched as you did so, swallowing as you looked at him before taking a sip through the tiny straw. “Mmm, it’s good.”

“Is it?” You sat up straighter, leaning towards him. “Can I try it?”

“Yeah, of course,” he offered the cup to you in his hand, watching as you took the straw and slowly took a sip. “Good?”

You hummed, smiling as you took out the straw with your teeth before licking the bottom to get the drops that began to fall. “Mmm, so good,” you hummed before giving him the straw, putting it between his teeth as he opened his mouth. “Do you mind if we share?”

“Of course not.”

Mattheo’s hand moved to your thigh, squeezing in almost a warning-like way. It did not concern you, though, not when tonight was your night to tempt him – to tease him.

“Angel,” Mattheo warned, but it didn’t seem like Theo heard as he offered his drink to you and watched as you took a large sip, never breaking eye contact. “Stop it.”

You did not listen, offering it back to Theo and purposely letting some of the liquor fall down your lips before swiping at it with your thumb and licking it off. Theo’s eyes continued to follow you, never looking away as you tilted your head slightly.

By Merlin’s name, Theo was fine.

“Are you single, Theo?”

Your question made him swallow, inhaling slightly, before nodding. “Yes.”

“I am too,” you smiled, and your words made Mattheo’s grip tighten on your thigh as you bit your lip slightly at the feeling.

“I know.”

You were about to respond before Mattheo dragged you out, Theo swallowing as you both disappeared. At first, he waited a few minutes, he waited for you both to come back, but you didn’t.

So he went out to look for you both.

At first, it took him a minute to find out where you both were, but a few harsh breaths made his stomach twist.

“No! No, I w-won’t do it again, I promise!” A voice sobbed, stuttering before gags fell from your mouth.

“Yes you will,” another harsh voice bit back, the gags getting louder as Theo turned a corner, the sight of you pressed against one of the castle pillars with Mattheo’s fingers shoved down your throat certainly a sight to see.

It took Theo a second to register the fact that Mattheo had his slacks down to his knees as he fucked into you from behind, white pearlescent liquid running down your inner thighs as he breathed heavily.

“You love being a teasing little slut… mmm, your pussy is always so open whenever I don’t fuck you because you’re such a desperate little whore,” Mattheo growled back in response, his other hand pushing forward to slap against your clit. A yelp fell from your lips as Mattheo’s hips got faster, his harsh breaths turning into loud, guttural moans as his fingers twisted your sensitive bud. “You’re such a fucking whore… desperate for your step-brother’s cock, aren’t you a whore angel? Hm?”

His fingers pushed farther down your throat as you gagged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you nodded mindlessly.

This sight shouldn’t have been a turn on, but it was. Cum covering your inner thighs as he fucked into you, globs of arousal continuing to fall down your thighs and make a messy puddle on the floor. How long had he been fucking you? How many times have you cum?

The mere thought made Theo rock hard, and he couldn’t help himself, pushing his hands down to start undoing his pants and pumping himself, groaning as he tilted back his head. It was so perverted what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop himself – besides, there was no way Mattheo would ever let him have you.

He was always so submissive with you, he couldn’t help it, but now he knew your not-so-secret secret, and now he knew what to do.

So, as soon as he finished jacking himself off – he knew exactly what to do.

The next day, he saw Mattheo – who was grinning like he knew Theo saw you both fucking last night. Like he knew Theo would follow you both out.

“Mattheo,” Theo smiled as he stood in front of his best friend, tilting his head. “You’re happy today.”

“Mmm, I had a good night,” Mattheo was sick and Theo knew it, but it was as though that sickness was slowly spreading to Theo as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I’m pretty sure I just got a girl pregnant, and I think you know exactly who I’m talking about. You’re not exactly the most quiet person when you jack off.”

Theo just hummed in response, but leaned closer to Mattheo’s ear. “I know I’m not. And I’m going to be just as loud when I tell every press outlet that Voldemort’s son is a sick bastard who fucks his pretty little step-sister unless you let me fuck her too.”

Mattheo pulled away, a smirk on his face as he tilted his head. “Took you long enough.”

“Matty, what’s going on?” You were shocked when Mattheo took his fingers out of you, and instead of putting his cock in you to replace his digits, he stepped back. “Matty!”

“Hush angel,” he whispers, smiling as the door slowly begins to open. It was a normal reaction for you to try and cover yourself before Mattheo leaned down quickly, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them to the mattress. “What are you doing, huh?”

“M-Mattheo, who is it-”

“Hey pretty girl,” Theo’s voice rang out, a soft moan escaping your mouth when you saw him pumping his cock.

The sight of Theo walking toward you, pumping himself as Mattheo went around your body, keeping your hands pinned down as he slowly hovered above your face. “You remember how you felt watched last night, angel? Well, there’s our audience…”

Theo’s eyes never looked away from your soaked cunt, your cum running down your beautiful, wet folds before he kneeled between your legs and held your plush thighs to his hips. “Mhm… and now it’s time to be more involved, darling…”

“W-Wait-!” You groaned as he pushed into you, your words leaving your mind as your voice disappeared as Theo started to rut his hips. Your mind went blank as you desperately tried to rut your hips into his in response, Mattheo stroking his tip all along your face with a smirk.

“You really are a whore… so desperate for any cock to fuck into you and fill your womb up with cum.”

You were about to bite back with a more harsh response, but Mattheo only took that as an entrance into your mouth, slamming his hips forward into your mouth making you choke. Your throat was still sore from last night, a whine falling from your lips before you started to gag with every thrust.

The feeling of your cunt was absolute heaven to Theo, and this gave him the chance to fully give into his more harsh code. Normally, he would have been more gentle, but he couldn’t. Mattheo’s sickness has spread to him, and now, he would never be able to go back.

“Fucking bloody hell,” Theodore moaned out, throwing his head back as he sets into a steady pace fucking into you, loud groans falling from his lips with every thrust. “She’s so fucking wet.”

“Mmm, just wait until you get her mouth,” Mattheo spoke smugly, his cock dragging and fucking down your throat roughly, as though he did not care if he would hurt you. Truthfully, he did not care if he would hurt you and you both knew that, but sometimes he felt nice. “Fuck angel, Theo knows our secret now… he can fuck you whenever he pleases and he won’t tell anyone…”

You whined loudly around his cock, hips bucking unconsciously as you tried to squeeze your thighs together, Theodore’s hands quickly going down to press your thighs to the bed. “Uh uh, my darling,” he groaned, his thrusts getting rougher as he grunted. “You’re not fucking moving away from me… merlin, you have a better cunt than I could have ever imagine, holy shit…” he drawled on in a loud moan, his hips stuttering as Mattheo cackled.

“Are you close already? You’re truly acting like a fucking virgin, come on angel, make him cum.”

You always listened to Mattheo, beginning to rock your hips into Theo’s who moaned loudly as you did so, leaning forward and fucking into you at a new position. The feeling made you moan and gag around Mattheo’s cock, the feeling of two cocks inside of you making you go insane as your stomach began to twist. It was your third orgasm, the feeling making you whine as the pit of your stomach began to feel like it was almost burning, a pulsing heat from your clit as Theo’s thumb swiped repeatedly over the sensitive bud. You gagged as you self-consciously needed to beg to cum, strangled words escaping making Mattheo groan.

“She’s about to cum. You have to listen to her beg.”

He pulled his cock out of your mouth making you cough repeatedly, but Theo’s hips only got faster, a broken wail coming from your mouth. “W-Wait! Th-Theo, it’s too much, t-too much!”

Mattheo continued to pump his cock above your face, ready to spurt cum all over you. “Beg to cum, angel, or I’ll make him pull out of you so quick you won’t even get to force yourself.”

The thought made you wail, a soft sob coming from your mouth as you eagerly nodded your head. “Pl-Please, Theo! Please, I want to cum, I want to cum!”

Theo only let out a guttural groan, barely able to speak as his thrusts got faster, hitting that spot inside of you that made your mind blur and your stomach hit that peak as your vision went black.

“Fucking cum. Cum, you stupid fucking slut,” he was finally giving into that need to be cruel, that sickness that Mattheo harnessed in the most possessive way – the need to truly use you like a fuck toy.

As Theo moaned loudly, his hips still not pausing in their rough thrusts while he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper inside of you as you came with a loud, broken scream, Mattheo laughed as he pumped himself, spurting perfect ropes of cum all along your lips and chin, even spurting some into your mouth and on your neck.

The three of you slowly rode out your highs, Theo unable to stop the movements of his hips as Mattheo let go of your hands and let his now slightly softened cock settle on your chin with his balls in your mouth. It was his way of ordering you to continue to pump him, which you did as you suckled carefully against his ball sac.

“Fuck,” Theo whispered breathlessly, inhaling as his thrusts began to feel more composed, a whine falling from your lips. “She looks so hot.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, stroking your hair as you tilted your head to the side to keep eye contact with him. “She can suck you off, too. As soon as you stop hogging her cunt.”

This made Theo laugh as your eyes rolled back. Maybe it was good to have an audience, after all.

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