#but first i need to lay on the floor for a few minutes and think about what I just wrote | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowersforbucky · 1 month

Text

love language

snapshots of your relationship with bucky told through the five love languages.

“remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

warnings/tags: smut, oral, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, wound care, brief uses of alcohol, anxiety and self-doubt, language, reader is afab, 18+ only, avenger!reader, fluffier than what i typically write, undercover mission, friends to lovers!!!

word count: 6.6k

Acts of Service

“Exciting Friday night?” Your head snaps up at the masculine voice. You nearly slosh hot tea on both yourself and the pages of the book that lay open in your lap. You're surprised to see him - as far as you were aware, Bucky and Sam were in Munich. You didn't think they were supposed to be back in the country for another two days.

“Something like that,” you answer, regaining your composure as you bring the mug to your lips. “What are you doing back so early? Did recon go okay?”

Bucky lets out a long sigh as he plops down into the recliner, adjacent to where you're curled up on the sofa in the compound’s communal living room. His eyelids look heavier than normal, with dark circles underneath that aren't typically present. You place your cup of tea on the end table next to you and close the book before angling your body towards him, giving him your undivided attention.

“It was a shit-show,” he answers bluntly, voice laced with defeat. “HYDRA had the drop on us from the minute we entered Germany. What was supposed to be us just gathering intel turned into an ambush. One minute, it was just the two of us in an old warehouse, and then the next..” he trails off, eyes locked on one of the buttons of his tactical pants that he’s fidgeting with. “We’re lucky to have made it out. Sam was taken to med-bay as soon as we got back. Broken arm and collarbone, dislocated shoulder, possibly a few fractured ribs..” he lists off the injuries.

“Jesus,” you cringe, a death grip on the book in your hands as you listen to him summarize the mission. “Looks like you came out pretty unscathed in comparison.” You glance him over from head to toe, relieved to see no visible wounds or bruises.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, sitting forward and pulling the collar of his black t-shirt over to expose his right shoulder. Your eyes bulge when you see the obvious knife wound that the fabric had been concealing. “Not completely unscathed.”

“Holy shit, Bucky, why didn’t you go get this stitched up?” You stand up quickly, your book falling forgotten to the floor as you step closer to him to inspect the cut. There’s dried blood covering the surrounding skin of his chest and shoulder, with fresh blood still seeping from the opening of the wound. Even with the luxury of the Quinjet, a direct flight from Germany to New York is at least eight hours, who knows how long the cut had been steadily oozing–

“The bleeding has slacked off for the most part at this point,” he tries to assure you, attempting to cover the wound back up with his shirt. His shirt that, upon closer inspection, is thoroughly soaked through with blood. You all but smack his hand away so that you can continue to inspect the cut.

“It’s too deep,” you shake your head. “It needs stitches.”

“It’ll be fine by morning–” he starts to argue with you, but you’re already walking away from him, exiting the room to retrieve a first-aid kit kept in one of the shared bathrooms just down the hallway. Though you can’t currently see him, you have no doubt that he is shaking his head and rolling his eyes at you.

Before returning to the living room, you stop by the kitchen and grab a cold can of Blue Moon to help take the edge off. Upon reentering the living room, you find that he’s hunched over where he sits in the recliner, leaning forward to grab your book from where it had fallen on the rug.

“What were you reading before I so rudely interrupted you?” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in a smirk as he inspects the cover of the book.

“The Hunger Games,” you answer simply as you place the first-aid kit on the couch and hold out the beer to him. He accepts the drink, a small, surprised smile appearing on his face.

“Shirt,” you instruct a second later, turning to him with a warm, wet rag that you intend to clean some of the dried blood off with. Surprisingly, he obliges your request, placing both the beer and the book in his lap to pull the bloodied fabric over his head.

“And what exactly is The Hunger Games about?” he asks, looking up at you through his thick lashes before turning his attention back to the book in his lap. He flips it over, skimming the words on the back cover.

“The Hunger Games,” you begin as you delicately swipe the damp washcloth across the dirty skin around his wound, watching as the material turns from white to pink as it collects the old blood. “Are dystopian fiction novels. The books get their title from an annual event in which a boy and a girl, ranging from the ages of twelve to eighteen, from twelve different districts are selected by name-drawing to compete in a fight to the death. Twenty-four go into an arena, one comes out.”

“Sheesh,” Bucky grimaces and pops the tab to the beer. You turn away from him, placing the soiled washcloth on the table next to him before retrieving some disinfectant from the kit. “And what’s the point in having a bunch of children kill each other?”

“Punishment and control,” you shrug, pouring some of the clear liquid on a large gauze pad until it’s soaked. He gives you a vague nod, signaling he’s ready for you to clean the wound. You dab the drenched cotton along the opening of the wound, wincing more visibly than Bucky does himself. “The districts where the children are reaped from have had uprisings against the nation’s Capitol in the past. The games are to punish them, as well as to remind them what power the Capitol holds.”

Bucky’s brows furrow together, contemplating your words. You make the initial incision for his stitches and he lets out a grunt of discomfort. “Sorry,” you mumble, concentrating on the stitchwork.

“So what happens?” He asks after a few moments of silence, obviously trying to distract himself from the needle going in and out of his tender flesh as he sips on the amber colored liquid. “The group of kids rebel and take down the Capitol?”

“You’re not too far off,” you chuckle lightly. “I guess you’ll just have to read them for yourself to find out.”

“I suppose I will,” he says, eyeing your needlework from the corner of his eye. “Will you let me borrow your copies when I finish The Lord of the Rings?”

“You’re reading The Lord of the Rings?” you fail at hiding your tone of surprise, more focused on finishing suturing his cut.

“Don’t act so shocked,” he feigns insult. “I read when I have the free time to do so.” He turns his head towards you for the first time since you began stitching, causing you to realize just how close his face is to your own. You push down the fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach at the close proximity, clearing your throat as you turn to grab a pair of small medical scissors. You clip the thread before backing away from him.

“That should hold you together well enough until your supernatural super-soldier healing abilities take care of it while you sleep.”

He stands from his position in the recliner, holding out your book to you. “Thank you,” he tells you sincerely. “For the stitches, and the beer.”

“Of course,” you say as you take your book back from him. “Don’t want you getting blood all over the compound.”

“I think I’m gonna go check on Sam,” he sighs. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

“Get some rest!” you demand as he retreats to the hallway.

“Yes ma’am,” he calls without looking back, his Brooklyn drawl making an appearance.

For the rest of the night, you try to focus on your book and not the way you felt when his plush pink lips and cerulean blue eyes were just inches from your face.

Receiving Gifts

One week later

Punctuality has never been your strong-suit, but you didn’t expect to be the very last person to arrive at Bucky’s birthday party - get together, as he insists on calling it, since he feels silly having a birthday party at over one hundred years old. However, as you’re approaching the pavilion at the compound’s lake, you see that all of your friends are already mingling comfortably.

Natasha, Sharon, and Wanda wave at you from where they lounge next to the bonfire, Steve and Sam are engaged in an intense game of beer pong (which Sam seems to be doing impressively well at, considering one arm is still in a cast and sling), Clint and Bruce are playing cornhole - everyone is here, though you don’t see the one person you came for.

You make your way over to a picnic table closer to the lake that has been dedicated to presents so that you can add yours to the pile. You had ordered the gift a week ago, the same night that you had stitched up Bucky’s shoulder wound, and it arrived just in time - in today's mail, only an hour ago.

Hence the reason you are the last to arrive with a shittily-wrapped present in hand.

“Is that Avengers wrapping paper?” You whirl around at the amused voice to see Bucky walking towards you.

“That it is,” you confirm. “You and I aren't featured, though. Just the OGs,” you shrug, staring down at the cartoon depictions of Steve and the others.

“I was starting to wonder if you weren't going to come.” He says lightheartedly, nodding in the direction of everyone else.

“Your present didn't get delivered until the last minute,” you explain, giving the box-shaped object in your hand a shake. “Didn't want to show up empty handed.”

“You didn't have to get me a gift at all,” he says reassuringly, but eyes the present curiously. “But since you almost missed my party over it, I should open it right away.” He holds his hands out expectantly, almost childlike.

You roll your eyes, handing over the poorly packaged present. You had never been the best at gift-wrapping, usually preferring to reuse bags.

“I did not almost miss your party. It's just now eight o'clock,” you defend yourself, staring at the sun that's just starting to set over the lake's horizon, painting the New York sky in hues of orange and purple.

He smirks, walking past you to place the present on the table. You watch as he rips the wrapping paper away unceremoniously, until the gift is revealed.

“I know you had asked to borrow my copies,” you begin, suddenly feeling nervous as you watch him look over the box set of the first edition of The Hunger Games trilogy. “But my copies are old, and tattered, and have been annotated to shit, so.. I thought maybe you'd like your own,” you shrug nonchalantly.

He studies the box, pulling out the first book and glancing it over with a look you can't quite decipher. There's a faint hint of rose on his cheeks, and the lines around his eyes crinkle when he turns his head to look at you.

“Thank you,” he says with a soft, earnest smile. “This is incredibly thoughtful of you. I'm going to start reading them–”

“This pizza is getting cold!” You hear Sam's voice bellow from under the pavilion a few yards away. “I'm about to dig in with or without the birthday boy.”

You exhale through your nose, a half laugh, half sigh and look at Bucky expectantly. “Pretty sure you're the only birthday boy here.”

“I guess that's my cue,” he sighs as he places the books with the rest of his unopened gifts. “Thanks again, really. It's my favorite gift,” he adds with a sly grin as he begins to walk towards Sam and the table of pizza boxes.

“You haven't even opened the others yet,” you point out, following in his steps.

“Don’t need to open any of the others to know that yours is my favorite.”

Words of Affirmation

Two weeks later

Overstimulated. That's the best word to describe the way you're currently feeling.

Nervous, uncomfortable, irritable, a little hungry, even - any of those words would suffice, too. But with the way the velvet fabric of your dress hugs your hips too tightly, the way that the conversation of the drunk party guests roars in your ears, and the way that the heels of your feet already burn in your platform wedges so early in the evening, you think overstimulated sums up your current state the best.

You fidget with the extravagant ring that adorns your left ring finger, twisting it back and forth and rubbing the pad of your right thumb across the oval-shaped stone.

You aren't even supposed to be here, your brain keeps reminding you. It was supposed to be Natasha. Natasha, who has a boatload of undercover operations experience. But then she had to come down with the flu. Natasha, who never gets sick with anything more than a head cold, bedridden with the flu the day before a highly anticipated undercover mission that you are now taking her place in.

It's not that you hadn't been part of an undercover operation before - you had. You just hadn't been part of any undercover operation that required you to pose as someone's wife before.

Definitely not Bucky's wife.

The two of you had just arrived at the party no more than thirty minutes ago and you had spent the entirety of that time thinking that you wouldn't be able to make this believable; that everyone would see how anxious and awkward you feel and just know - just know that you weren't meant to be here and that it's abundantly clear that you and Bucky aren't actually together.

“Ivanov just arrived,” Bucky's voice murmurs next to your ear as he walks up behind you, snapping you out of your self-doubt induced trance. His left hand, disguised using nano-tech to look like a human, flesh hand, comes to rest against the small of your back and his right hand extends the drink that he retrieved for you from the bar.

“How'd you know I like lemon drops?” You ask, instantly recognizing the pale yellow liquid in the martini glass.

“I'm your husband. It's part of my job to know your go-to cocktail,” he smirks, looking at you in a way that almost makes you believe his words. “Besides, I'd know your drink of choice anyway. You always order a lemon drop.”

You clear your throat, breaking his stare by checking out the fellow attendees and event staff filtering through the ballroom. You slowly sip the sour liquid, trying to focus on the burn of the vodka and not the heat radiating across the skin of your back from him simply resting his fingers against the material of your dress.

“So where's Ivanov?” you break the tension. The illegal arms dealer that you'd been assigned to spy on was nowhere to be seen.

“He should be showing his face any minute now,” Bucky answers, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I overheard some men at the bar saying he had just arrived in a three million dollar Bugatti with his twenty year old girlfriend.” You visibly cringe at the numbers. Ivanov had to be approaching senior citizen status at this point.

“Can't say that I'd expect anything else from him,” you sigh, attempting to wipe the disgust from your features. “What’s our game plan from here? Hover close by him and listen in on conversations–”

“Dance with me,” Bucky interrupts, his eyes locked on something on the opposite side of the room. You follow his gaze, realizing that Ivanov has entered with his exceptionally youthful girlfriend on his arm. Bucky extends his own arm to you, which you accept after tossing back the last sip of your drink and setting the empty glass on a table behind you.

He guides you to the center of the dance floor where several other couples are swaying to classical piano music. Ivanov mingles with a small group of questionable looking men just a few feet behind you, where Bucky is able to keep an eye on him.

He places one hand on your waist, using the other to hold one of yours in his own as he begins to slowly sway both of you to the rhythm of the music. Your free hand rests on the back of his neck, where you nervously twirl a tuft of his hair between your perfectly manicured fingers (you tried not to take too much offense to Sharon rushing you to the first salon she could find yesterday to help you look the part).

Bucky huffs a low laugh before using his grip on your hip to tug you closer to him, closing an awkward amount of space that separates your chest from his.

“If we want this to be believable, you’re gonna have to act like you kind of like me,” he murmurs lowly so that no one near you overhears. His face is just inches from yours - the scent of sandalwood from his aftershave and spearmint from his mouthwash is dizzying. Add in the fact that the lemon drop you had just quickly downed was heavy on the vodka, it’s a miracle that you’re still standing upright in these ridiculous heels that Sharon had picked out for you.

“I do like you,” you huff, your cheeks warming. “Not liking you isn’t the problem.” His gaze shifts away from where Ivanov stands a few yards behind you and down to your face.

“What is the problem then?”

You stare at his hand that holds yours, your eyes fixated on the brilliant diamond of your faux wedding ring. “For starters, I don’t really know how to slow dance,” you half-mumble. As if on cue, your left ankle shifts ever so slightly in your shoe, causing you to wobble. Bucky tightens his grasp on both your waist and hand to help steady you. He cackles - loudly enough for an old lady walking by to give him a side-eye.

“I think it’s pretty unlikely that our cover gets blown because you’re a little unsteady,” he whispers reassuringly. It does little to ease the lump of anxiety that has settled in your gut.

“It’s not just my lack of dancing experience,” you retort. “It’s all of this. I’m a bit out of my element here and I can’t help but feel like Natasha would have been able to do a much better–”

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, beginning to massage his thumb over the skin of your hand in languid, circular motions. You can’t decide if it’s the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins or if it’s just the fact that it’s him, but it feels as though there’s a continuous trail of hot sparks everywhere his skin touches yours. “You've got this. If anyone’s got this, it's you. You've handled missions far more daunting than this with ease, right?”

You finally shift your eyes to meet his gaze. His deep blue eyes bore into yours with utmost sincerity. You give him a small nod of agreement and a tight-lipped, uncertain smile.

He leans in closer so that his mouth hovers just next to your ear, his warm breath raising goosebumps down the expanse of your neck and shoulders.

“And remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

The slow, gentle swaying motions you'd been forcing your body to perform come to a sudden halt. You look at Bucky as if he's grown a second head. He’s looking at you with a shit-eating grin spread from ear to ear.

“Did you just quote Peeta Mellark?”

“I finished up the first book yesterday,” he shrugs as if his words hadn't just made your heart skip several beats. “Now let's get this job over with so we can go discuss the book in detail over some greasy diner food, yeah?”

Quality Time

The mere thought of getting the fuck out of that giant estate and away from Ivanov and the other countless skeevy party-goers to gorge on greasy diner food was more than enough motivation to get you through the duration of the mission.

Of course, it helped that Ivanov is a lightweight drunk with no concept of volume control. After a couple drinks, he handed the location of his next illegal arms deal to you and Bucky on a silver platter - without ever even noticing the two of you dancing just feet away from him.

“I'm sending the audio recording over to you right now,” Bucky says as he types on his cell phone. The two of you are currently in a drugstore parking lot half an hour away from the estate, sitting in the Audi SUV that you'd been given for this evening’s mission.

“Got it,” Sam’s voice booms through the car’s Bluetooth speakers a second later. “You guys did great back there. Go ahead and get back to the compound for debriefing.”

Your eyes flash to the time on the vehicle's touchscreen display - 10:06 pm. You can feel your stomach churning from hunger and your skin itching to get out of the restrictive velvet fabric, the last thing you wanted to do at this hour was go to a fucking debriefing.

“About that..” Bucky starts, noticing your disappointed expression and tense posture. “Debriefing is going to have to wait until the morning.”

“We should really get any details while they are still fresh–”

“What’s that? Sam? Sorry, you're breaking up, can't understand what you're–”

Bucky's flesh finger touches a button on the digital display screen and the call disconnects before he finishes his sentence.

“You know he's going to call back any second, right?” You ask after a moment of loaded silence. Bucky says nothing at first. You watch as he powers off his phone, and then grabs yours from its location in the center cup holder and powers it off, as well.

“I fully anticipate him trying,” he answers as he puts the car in reverse and peels out of the nearly vacant parking lot. “But I promised you a potentially gut-rotting meal, and I'm going to keep that promise.”

Half an hour later, you and Bucky sit opposite each other in a cozy, corner booth of the only open diner in a five mile radius. It's half diner, half arcade, and the two of you are some of the only people here save for the teenage couple making out next to the jukebox in the gaming area. You both look out of place - him in his black satin suit and you in your burgundy colored dress with the thigh-slit, but you're too relieved to be eating to care.

He's already scarfed down a fried chicken sandwich and is rapidly making his way through a pile of mozzarella sticks. You're eating a fat stack of blueberry pancakes and the best loaded hash browns that you think you've ever had.

Breakfast foods hit different at eleven o'clock at night.

“I'm just saying, Katniss is kind of oblivious,” Bucky shrugs with a mouthful of fried cheese. “It's obvious that Peeta was never just pretending to be in love with her.”

“That's a big assumption coming from someone who hasn't even started the second book yet,” you say as you fork a bite of pancake into your mouth.

He throws his hands up in mock defense, covering his now empty plate up with a dirty napkin.

“You're not wrong though,” you admit. “She did miss a lot of signs, and she's not always the most reliable narrator.”

He responds with a small hum as he watches you finish your pancakes with a soft smile that shows his laugh lines and the dimple of his left cheek.

His smile turns to something more curious as the young couple who had been making out in the arcade room earlier dashes past your booth and out the back door of the restaurant.

“What is it?” You ask, pushing your empty plate towards the center of the table.

“The game room is free now,” he states, as if it's obvious. “Now I can kick your ass in air hockey.”

And kick your ass in air hockey he does. And skee ball, and Dance Dance revolution.

“Please don't tell Natasha that you beat me at Dance Dance Revolution,” you beg him as you pick up your high heels that you had discarded for the game. “She'll never let me live that one down. In fact, if anyone asks, it was a dead tie for all of these games.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles, approaching the pool table in the center of the room and leaning against the edge. “As long as you win this game of pool.”

“No, nope, absolutely not,” you freeze where you're standing, crossing your arms over your chest. “If I couldn't beat you at air hockey then I don't stand a chance of beating you at pool.”

He ignores you, instead turning to choose two cue sticks from the selection on the back wall. He tosses one to you from several feet away, which you instinctively drop your shoes to the floor to catch.

“I haven't even tried to play pool since I was maybe ten years old,” you whine.

“Why were you trying to play pool at ten years old?” he chuckles, gathering up all of the balls and placing them inside the triangular rack in the center of the table.

“It was at a birthday party,” you admit. “I pretended to know what I was doing to impress a boy that I had a crush on.”

“And how did that go for you?” He removes the triangle-shaped container from around the balls and begins to line up his shot.

“Well, I haven't tried to play pool since then,” you begin, taking a seat on the edge of the table and turning your head to watch him. He pulls the cue stick back and quickly stabs it forward, breaking the balls apart and sending them rolling in various directions across the felt table. “And Kyle from my fourth grade class thought that I had cooties, so, you tell me how you think that went for me.”

“Sounds like it was Kyle's loss.” You watch as he walks to one of the table's pockets to look inside. “I've got stripes,” he states, looking at you with an expectant smile.

You exhale a dramatic sigh, hopping off the edge of the table and turning around to position your stick in front of the cue ball.

“Fine,” you relent, looking up at him from where you're leaning over across the table. “But you're not allowed to laugh at me when you realize I wasn't lying about having no experience at this.”

“Scout's honor,” he swears and you can tell by his smile and reddened cheeks that he’s already trying to contain his laughter.

Feeling extra nervous due to the way you can physically feel him watching you, you take an embarrassing amount of time working up the courage to propel the tip of the cue stick towards a solid purple colored ball.

It travels a foot or so across the green felt material of the table and comes to a stop just inches away from a corner pocket.

“Damn it,” you sigh under your breath.

“That wasn't too bad, actually,” he says, not even trying to conceal his tone of surprise as he walks over to where you're standing. “You just need to change your stance a little and hit the ball a bit harder.”

“So, do basically everything differently, then?”

“I can help you, if you want,” he offers with a smug grin.

“Hm,” you bite your lip as you pretend to contemplate the proposition. “Okay,” you accept with a shrug. “But this better not be an attempt to pull a cliche “pretend to help her with pool as an excuse to make a move” kind of move.” You're fully joking - you know Bucky well enough to know he wouldn't make such a corny, obvious move with anyone - and you definitely wouldn't expect him to do so with you.

But you don't miss the way his expression darkens ever so slightly and his eyes sweep up your figure before moving to stand behind you, propping his own cue stick up against the table.

The front of your thighs brush up against the edge of the table and Bucky’s arms enclose you on either side - his hands coming to rest next to each of your legs on the table's edge, as close as they can be to you without actually touching.

Your breath hitches in your throat when the silky material of his suit brushes against your bare shoulders, the sensation causing you to go deadly still as you await his next move.

“With how fast your heart is beating right now, I don't think I would have to do something as cheesy as that to make a move.” He murmurs, his mouth close enough to the exposed skin of your neck that you can feel the heat of his breath. It's an automatic response, the way your head tilts back into his touch. You start to pull away, start to feel embarrassed, start to tell him just how wrong he is, when he brings a flesh finger to the ball of your shoulder and trails his index finger down the skin of your arm, eliciting a surge of goosebumps in its wake.

This physical reaction doesn't go unnoticed by him, either. He hums a small laugh, inching closer to you so that his body presses against your ass.

“In fact,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “I think that if I wanted to, I could have you bent over this table for me without having to resort to anything like that.”

If his chest wasn't pinning you between him and the pool table, you probably would have fallen over. The air in the arcade feels a sudden ten degrees warmer and you swear you can hear your blood pumping in your ears - things that unfortunately can't be blamed on the effects of the martini that had dissipated from your system hours ago.

No, it's all him. His closeness, his warmth, his voice, his scent. Just him.

“If you wanted to, yeah?” You question, your voice an octave higher than you ideally would have liked. “That makes it sound like you don't want to. But the bulge I'm feeling from your pants makes it seem like you do want to. Kinda sending me mixed signals here.” You rut back against him for good measure.

He hisses next to your ear, his hands snapping to your hips, effectively stilling you beneath him. His fingers dig into the flesh around your hip bones, the pressure somewhere perfectly between uncomfortable and pleasurable.

“Here? Bent over this table?” he tuts, his lips grazing the skin next to the shoulder strap of your dress. “Where a couple of unsuspecting teenagers could walk in for a game of skee ball at any second?” He lets out a low laugh, the sound vibrating against your back.

“No, I don't think so,” he continues. “Not when we've got a brand new Audi with a spacious backseat and highly tinted windows just outside this building.”

Physical Touch

If someone had asked you six hours ago if you thought there was a chance you would be ending this night by having sex with Bucky Barnes, you would have said no.

But if someone had asked you if you thought there was a chance you would be having sex with Bucky Barnes in the backseat of a car in a diner-arcade combo parking lot, you would have said fuck no.

You would have been wrong on both accounts. And with the way that he's nipping and sucking up the insides of your thighs, you're pretty fucking okay with that.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, your panties discarded on the floor of the car. You're laying as comfortably as you can across the backseat with Bucky nestled snuggly between your legs. It's a tight fit, and the stagnant air inside the Audi is balmy, but you'll be damned if you interrupt this to turn the AC on. The only light inside the vehicle is from the glow of the full moon that illuminates the sky, and the giant neon green diner sign a few yards away from where you're parked.

He's not wasting any time - it's well past midnight at this point and considering the fact that Bucky turned your cell phones off hours ago, you're surprised that Sam hasn't traced the location of the vehicle and sent search and rescue already.

As soon as his mouth makes contact with your center, you’re lacing your fingers through his short, soft locks and tugging on them. You grind your pussy against his face, meeting his fervent motions with your own. He locks his lips around your clit before pulling away with an obscene, wet pop that echoes through the cab of the car.

He reaches one hand up to your shoulders while keeping his lips on you, quickly tugging down the spaghetti straps of your dress and then pawing at the fabric covering your chest to free your tits.

At the same time that he plunges his tongue inside you, he rolls a nipple between two of his cool, metal digits, yearning a sharp yelp from you. He releases his grip and then palms your breast in his hand, continuing to work your folds with his lips and tongue.

You don't know if it's the fact that it's been a ridiculous amount of time since you so much as kissed someone or the fact that Bucky eats pussy like he's starving, but you're approaching your climax insanely fast.

You clench your thighs around his ears and push your hips upwards, the friction building that warm tension in your lower belly that comes spilling over when he lets out a guttural moan across your core.

You cum against his face, feeling your juices drip down the insides of your thighs - there's a pesky voice in the back of your head telling you that you're going to have to pay to have this car detailed before giving it back.

He sits up, his back resting against the middle of the leather seat. He unbuttons and unzips his suit pants, raising off the seat just enough to tug them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. You're still coming down from your orgasm when he's pulling you up from the seat and into a sitting position.

You tuck your legs underneath you so that you're propped up on your knees on the seat directly next to him. Bucky pumps himself in his hand as you lean over, gathering all of the saliva in your mouth and letting it slide between your lips and over the head of his cock.

You push his hand away to replace it with your own, using your spit as lubrication as you stroke him up and down. He throws his head back against the headrest, looking up at the roof of the car as he brings his hand around the curve of your ass, flesh hand finding your pussy that's still throbbing from how hard he had made you cum.

You can feel the smooth band of the engagement ring that you'd been wearing all evening repeatedly caress a large vein on the side of his dick - you remove your hand from him, causing him to snap his head back down to look at you. You bring your other hand to remove the ring from your finger, planning to tuck it into a cup holder for safekeeping while you use your hands on him.

“Leave it on,” he breaks the thick silence when he realizes what you're doing. “Want you to keep wearing it.”

You push the ring back down on your finger, his command sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You're extending your hand back to his cock when he cuts you off, pulling you to him and across his lap.

You straddle him, his erection locked between your pussy lips and his lower belly. You move forwards, and then backwards - earning another deep groan from him as you coat the underbelly of his cock in your juices. You grind up and down against him several times, until you're feeling impossibly empty and can't take the feeling of not having him inside you any longer.

You lift yourself up on the balls of your feet, high enough for him to guide himself to your entrance. He teases your hole with his head - or at least tries to, before you're sinking yourself down onto his length. You go still for a moment when he's fully inside you, giving you both time to adjust to the new, overwhelming sensation of each other.

You begin to ride him, slowly at first - he stretches you blissfully sweet and soon you're picking up the pace, your ass bouncing off of his thighs with each comedown.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face down to his in a sloppy, searing kiss. It hits you that he's inside you raw right now, and you're just now kissing. You taste yourself on him, warm and salty sweet. He sweeps his tongue along your bottom lip and you open up for him, letting him explore your mouth from the perfect angle that he's at beneath you.

He continues to kiss you but removes his hand from the back of your neck, moving both of them to cup your ass. He begins to meet your movements with his own, thrusting himself upwards so that his cock is ramming into that sweet spot of your cervix and sending you towards a second climax.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss for air. Your encouragement spurs him on, increasing the speed of his thrusts. Your legs turn to jelly beneath you, but he's got you - he holds you up by your ass cheeks and leans forward to take one of your nipples in his warm mouth.

It's enough to send you over the edge again. Your orgasm builds, heat exploding through your abdomen as his movements grow erratic and he spills into you from below.

He stills beneath you when you're both spent, your chest heaving against his. You make no effort to remove yourself from him, and he seems more than happy to keep you right where you are - his arms locking around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“I guess now would be as good of a time as any to ask you if you'd like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Go on a date with you sometime?” You lean back, looking down with him with the limited amount of moonlight and neon lighting that breaks through the tinted windows. “We dressed up real nice, slow danced, spied on a bad guy, ate greasy diner food, played arcade games, and you're inside me as we speak. I think it's safe to say we're currently on a date.”

He snorts, breaking into laughter beneath you. “A second date, then,” he concedes. “I would love to take you on a second date.”

♡♡♡♡♡

thank you for reading!!! kind of nervous to put this one out there tbh, i've been working on it off and on for weeks but i love how it turned out and i hope you all do too. as always comments and reblogs are very appreciated 💕

it's nice to have a friend

moth to a flame

oil & water

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction

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martiansodas-blog · 4 months

Text

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

The first time

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?”

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to.

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late.

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready.

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,”

You sway him from side to side.

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper.

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby.

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him.

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair.

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?”

You twist one of his curls in your fingers.

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.”

Your heart broke for him.

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better.

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him.

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.”

Art froze.

Well, that’s new.

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.”

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle.

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.”

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands.

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck.

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods.

It causes you to giggle.

“Thank you.”

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin.

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet.

I could do this all day.

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.”

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.”

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied.

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him.

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him.

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath.

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before.

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest.

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat.

“You won’t.”

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy.

His tongue reaches new trenches.

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal. His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips.

“Shit. Just like that.”

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue.

“Oh god, oh god,”

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first.

The only thing he knew was your body.

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release.

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory.

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?”

He whimpered and nodded.

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast.

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable.

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave.

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in.

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth.

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to.

“Such a good boy.”

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition.

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock.

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more.

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished.

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.”

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing.

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.”

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb.

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now.

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.”

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that.

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.”

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.”

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth.

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt.

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him.

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises.

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead.

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art.

“Are you leaving?”

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face.

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back”

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system.

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.”

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

#lapdog agenda #art donaldson #challengers #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson dumbification #sub art donaldson

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

Text

Satoru Gojo purposely keeping the scar you gave him instead of using reversed technique

Pairing: husband! Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: When his skin gets busted by your sheer excitement, it doesn't feel right to Satoru to use his reversed technique and simply heal.

Warnings: fluff fluff fluff, Yuji's "death" scnene in season 1, blood lol

Thank you dear anon for aggressively reminding me that it's canon for Gojo to not have any scars, it really helped me cooking up that fic! 🤍

Every step feels like hell, the only thing that keeps you from collapsing onto the floor being the reassuring hand of your husband on your shoulder.

This can’t be true, it’s just impossible. Yuji Itadori was a member of Jujutsu High for a few weeks, just started to get to know this world better. This was supposed to be an easy mission, the three of them should have made it out alive with ease. But apparently, Sukuna decided to show up. And apart from injuring Megumi, he violently took Yuji’s life by ripping his heart out. A heart made of pure gold, a heart so precious that you couldn’t help but care for that boy the minute you saw him.

But now he’s dead.

Your hands start shaking immediately the minute you step into this cursed room you visited far too often, gazing at Yuji’s body covered by a cloak. This isn’t a bad dream. No, the blood covering the white cloak tells you more than urgently that Yuji Itadori isn’t there anymore.

“Please tell me that there’s a chance he’ll come back”, you mutter.

Oh, how much both Shoko and Satoru hate to see you like that. It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High how deeply you care about your students, loving them like your own children. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen a student die in front of your eyes. In times like these, jujutsu sorcerers pass away like flies. But Satoru knows what you’ve seen in Yuji, that he somehow reflected parts of yourself. And still, you weren’t able to protect that boy, both Satoru and you coming too late to rescue him.

“I really wish I could, but he shows no signs of life. I’ll move on to autopsy now. If you want to say goodbye…Maybe do it now and leave afterwards.”

Satoru wraps his arms around you just in time before you slide onto the ground, holding you tightly against his chest.

“This is not fair”, you breathe out, head still not able to accept Yuji’s farewell.

He was so young, so full of life. He doesn’t deserve to die, he still had so much ahead of him. There needs to be something you are able to do. Aren’t Satoru or Shoko able to use their cursed technique?

“He didn’t show any signs of life for hours by now, (y/n). Not even Shoko or me are able to bring him back to life. I’m so sorry”, he mumbles against your ear out of nowhere.

So this is really how it ended? With Yuji getting killed by none other than Sukuna himself? Like in trance, your wobbly legs carry you to the autopsy table his lifeless body lays on. You want to stretch out your arm, want to look at that precious boy one last time before Shoko does her job.

But you can’t.

“I can’t look at him”, you blurt out.

With a swift motion, you turn around and burry your face against your husband’s chest.

“It’s okay babe, just look at me, okay? You don’t have to do this.”

Satoru’s arms keep you from losing yourself completely, soak up your falling tears while his head rests against yours. Oh Yuji, you’ll never be forgotten. All the laughter’s both of you shared, his potential, how he always cared about others. You will think about him every time the sun starts to rise, when new students get greeted, when you kill another curse-

“Hey, what’s up? Huh, what are both of you doing here, Gojo-sensei?”

This voice…

That was Yuji Itadori.

Out of instinct you turn around rapidly, not even noticing how the back of your head crushes into Satoru’s forehead with full force. He sees starts, blood taking his sight in an instant while his mind isn’t even able to comprehend it was Yuji who just spoke.

“Yuji! Are you okay? Are you hurt? You’re back!”, you babble out, embracing the boy in a tight hug.

“To be honest I don’t even know what happened last and I’m pretty hungry…Oh, you’re bleeding Gojo-sensei!”

You’re…bleeding? You turn around in confusion, following Yuji’s eyes.

“OMG SATORU!”, you cry out, the sight of your husband covered in his own blood shocking you to your core.

When did that happened…Was it…you?

“I guess you were so happy to see Itadori that you’ve forgot about me standing behind you”, he mutters amused.

“Babe I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just got so carried away and-“

“Don’t worry about me. Reversed technique, remember? I’ll be whole in seconds. Just look after Yuji, I love you.”

You let out the breath you were holding, the bright smile forming on your gorgeous face making Satoru forget the world around him for a moment. You are so caring, so passionate. And you are his wife.

“I’m a lucky man”, he mutters to himself while pressing the tissue Shoko handed him against his wound.

There you sit, gently caressing Yuji’s cheeks and asking him over and over if he’s okay.

“You really are. This isn’t a problem for you, right?”, Shoko questions with one glance at the laceration on his forehead.

The shocked look on your face replays itself over and over in his mind, lets a chuckle escape his lips. With the help but his reversed technique, it would be way too easy to get rid of that minor wound. Within seconds, there wouldn’t even be a scar left, just his flawless skin. But…it was you who did this to him out of sheer excitement. It sure would be nice to look into the mirror and get reminded of you daily, right?

“Oh, I might as well keep that”, he replies with a sly grin.

- a few weeks later -

You sit on the edge of the couch, desperately waiting for that time of the day. Even after being married to that force of a man for 4 years now, you find yourself getting all excited when he announces that he’s going to shower. Because going to shower means that he’ll come out just wearing boxers with his body still a little wet and his hair sticking to his face in that delicate way.

“Still waiting for me, huh? It’s not like you can see me naked every time you want, babe”, he finally purrs.

Your heart skips a beat. This man…How is it even allowed to look so breathtakingly gorgeous? The way a single droplet of water runs down his cheek, how he gently strokes his damp hair back.

Wait. You squint your eyes a little harder. What is that on his forehead?

“What do you have there?”, you question, rubbing your own hand against the ride side of your forehead.

This almost looks like a scar. But Satoru shouldn’t have scars. After all, he’s able to use reversed technique, healing himself in the matter of seconds. Is it just dirt? No, that definitely looks like scar tissue.

“Oh, it’s nothing”, he immediately tries to brush you off, pulling his hair back into his face.

“No way Romeo, come back here right now”, you demand.

With a swift motion you lift yourself off the couch and hunt after him.

“Is that a scar?”

“It might be…”

“Why didn’t you just heal it? Show it to me!”

When you finally catch him, you slick his hair back again. Only to be greeted what indeed looks like a middle-sized scar. But why and how did this happen, why didn’t he just heal like he usually does?

“You really don’t know where this came from?”, he challenges you.

You blink a few times. What the hell is your husband talking about?

“Why would I know where this came from?”

“Because it was you, (y/n)?”, he playfully bites back.

You? Your mind races, searching for a single moment you ever hurt your husband. You were never really able to even hurt him, no matter how berserk you went in training. When was the last time you even wounded him? But wait, there was this one time you made him bleed, that one time when…

“This was when Yuji woke up-“

“EXACTLY!”, Satoru cries out and gives you a round of applause.

“But why did you keep it? You said you’d be able to heal it…”

“Because I didn’t want to. This scar right here”

Gently, he takes your hand in his and traces the soft scar with your fingertips.

“will always remind me of what a wonderful human being you are.”

Oh. Your eyes turn glossy in an instant, staring up at your loving husband while he gifts you with the most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen.

“Satoru”, you breathe out.

There is no time to waste. You wrap your longing arms around his tall frame tightly, aiming to never let him go again.

“Every time I look into the mirror, I think about my wonderful wife”, he mutters into your hair.

“Y’know, you could just take a picture of me or something-“

“No. I would rather just keep that scar of my wonderful wife smacking me over a student.”

You hit him playfully over his comment, a giggle escaping your precious lips.

“Come on, it wasn’t like that…”

“I’ll always tell the story like this.”

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Dividers by @saradika 🤍

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xxsabitoxx · 8 months

Text

Rolling Over - Dad Megumi

“Alright, let’s try again.” You began to laugh as Megumi set your four month old daughter on her stomach – something she absolutely despised. “Stay strong, Meg.” you teased him softly, laying on your stomach along with your daughter to try and ease her whining.

“Yeah yeah…” softly, under his breath but just loud enough for you to laugh again. You had been on the floor for the last thirty minutes trying to get your little girl to roll over. She was four months old after all, it was time to start hitting those huge milestones.

She had gotten close a few times but Megumi couldn’t stand to let her whimpers turn to cries and would pick her up right before she teetered over and successfully completed the task.

“C’mon baby girl, roll over.” You encouraged softly, watching her little face contort in dislike as she realized she was yet again belly down on the floor. “Turn over so you can see your daddy.” you added as her wide eyes shifted from the floor to your face. “C’mon little girl.”

At the sound of Megumi’s voice, her head raised a little higher, becoming more alert. You laughed softly “Gotta love the lack of object permanence.” If Megumi was out of her sight, she was convinced he was fully gone. But, hearing his voice, she was beginning to rock back and forth in effort to look for the source. “There you go, you're getting there!”

You smiled widely as her little face contorted with the effort to figure out how to get to her back. “I’m right behind you, roll over for daddy, hmm?” Megumi cooed softly, hands resting by her sides just in case she figured out how to turn but turned too fast.

After another moment of struggling, you notice her face morph into the one she makes right before she starts crying. “Careful, Meg. She’s about to start.” You hated her crying just as much as Megumi did, swearing you’d never heard such a sad little cry in your life. But you both needed to remain strong or she’d never hit this crucial milestone in her development.

“Wonderful.” Megumi grimaced as her first little whimper reached his ears. The sound managed to break his heart every time, he didn’t even think that was possible. “Come on baby girl, you just gotta roll over and daddy will be right there.” You tapped your fingers on the floor right by her face, drawing her attention for a moment to distract from the crying.

Again, she began to teeter in one direction, trying to gain momentum to roll herself onto her back. “I’m right here, my little love.” You smiled at Megumi’s nickname for your daughter, it was so soft and genuine everytime it slipped past his lips.

You both expected her to start crying again, but, as if by some miracle, she got herself halfway towards a roll before falling back into her original stance. “OH!” You squealed softly, careful not to startle her and destroy any progress. “Keep talking to her, Meg!” He blinked a few times to recollect his thoughts, pride already swelling in his chest at her near-accomplishment.

“You almost got it…” he encouraged softly, moving to bend down. You watched with a grin as Megumi moved to lay beside her, watching her little head wobble before turning to meet his gaze. At the sight of her daddy, a gummy little grin appeared on her face followed by a breathless little giggle. “Hi my love.” He smiled sweetly at her, making your heart ache at the cuteness.

“Can you roll over for mommy and I?” he questioned her, pouting to mimic her own as she seemed to seriously contemplate his question. “Come on, one roll and we can be all done.” he tried to bribe her, glancing at you with a smile. “Mmhmm, daddy’s right, baby. One roll is all we want.” You had to admit, it was already impressive that she had gone this long without crying.

It seems you and Megumi’s distraction attempts were really working.

Your little daughter rocked herself again, teetering in Megumi’s direction once, twice, and then finally she was on her back. You and Megumi froze, the room so silent you swore you’d hear a pin drop. After a second your eyes locked, laughter bubbling in your chest as you reached forward and scooped her up. “There you go! Mommy’s so proud of you!”

You squealed, showering her face in kisses as your eyes watered. Even the smallest things have you tearing up nowadays. It seemed Megumi had also gotten caught by the sniffle-bug, wiping his eyes quickly as he pushed himself into a sitting position. With your daughter in your arms, you scooted over to Megumi so he could congratulate her too.

“You’re my smart little girl, hmm? You rolled over for the first time ever.” He smiled at her, arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. Your back pressed to his front, melting into his embrace as you held your daughter in front of you. She clearly didn’t understand the significance of her achievement, but seeing her mommy and daddy had a smile on her face yet again.

“Stop growing up so fast.” Megumi whispered, voice a little hoarse from getting choked up. You had to admit, even though she was only four months old, you had to agree. “It feels like just yesterday we realized we were having you, and now you’re rolling over.” Again, she didn’t understand the significance, but hearing her parents voices had her cooing in response.

“She’ll be off to college before we know it.” Megumi sighed, head resting on your shoulder as he nearly made himself sick over the thought. “You’re starting to sound like Gojo, quit getting ahead of yourself.” You chided, laughter in your tone as Megumi audibly groaned from the comparison.

“I guess I should text them, your Auntie Nobara, Uncle Yuji, and your honorary grandpa will be thrilled.” Gojo had been adamant on being anything but grandpa, which made grandpa stick even further. Even Yuta, Maki, and Panda were referring to him as grandpa Gojo.

“Oh shit, we should have recorded it.” you sounded a bit defeated at the realization. “Nah, she’ll roll over plenty of times after this. Her first will be our memory.” You sunk further into his embrace, pulling your daughter close to your chest as she began to doze off.

“You’re right. Rolling over is tiring work, how about a family nap?” You giggled softly as Megumi melted into you. “Sounds amazing.”

#jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk headcanons #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi #megumi imagine #megumi fanfic #megumi headcanons #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fluff

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rubyreduji · 1 year

Text

The Peephole — jww

summary: wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

tags: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, side reader x choi seungcheol warnings: mentions of blood (accidental cuts on glass), explicit sex, voyeurism, masturbation, creep wonwoo, oral (f. rec), mean dom!wonwoo, degradation, fingering, pinning, pussy slapping, finger sucking, some crying, spanking, objectification, slight hair pulling, creampies, wonwoo is obsessed with you wc: 5.0k an: once again writing perv roommate wonwoo, but in a diff universe lol (im insane), i tried to find a crusty photo of wonwoo but he just...is perfect???

Wonwoo’s body is burning up. His breath comes out in soft pants as he does his best not to make a sound. His body feels awkward and cramped but he doesn’t dare move his position. His cock sits in his hand, heavy and dripping as he presses his eye up to the shared wall between his bedroom and yours.

On the other side of the wall, you lay in bed, your chest heaving as you roll your hips against a pillow shoved between your thighs. Your body is completely bare and is covered in a light sheen of sweat as you continue to hump your pillow. You’ve been at it for at least thirty minutes now and Wonwoo has been enjoying every second.

You reach up to tug at one of your nipples and Wonwoo has to cover his mouth so you don’t hear the moan he lets out. God he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size to him and you have the cutest nipples he’s ever seen.

From the way you’re panting and the way your hips start to jerk, Wonwoo can tell you’re getting close. He proves to be right when it only takes you a few more seconds before your body is shaking and you slump against your bed. When you pull the pillow away from your legs, Wonwoo can see the wet spot left on the pillow and the slick arousal left on your thighs and it’s enough to get Wonwoo to finish himself.

With a soft groan Wonwoo sits back, his body allowing him to collapse finally after sitting cramped for so long. His stomach still has cum splattered on it, but he can’t bring himself to care. Images of your luscious bare skin still burn in his mind.

You and Wonwoo have been roommates for about six months now. You two have been friends for longer though and when it was revealed that you needed a roommate, Wonwoo jumped on the chance to take it. He’s had a crush on you for a while and getting to live with you has been nothing short of a dream for him.

The first time he saw you walking around the living room in nothing but short shorts and a thin tank top (sans a bra) he nearly collapsed right there. It was torture to live with you while you walked around like that, but at the same time it brought life to Wonwoo.

Then, like the second coming of Jesus, a miracle happened one day. Wonwoo was just sitting in his room when a picture on his wall fell to the ground. The frame broke on impact with the ground, glass shattering on the floor. Wonwoo jumped and quickly moved to clean it up.

You ran in as well and Wonwoo had to take a moment to catch his breath when he saw you in your sports bra and spandex shorts. His eyes trail up your figure, staring at the bare expanse of your stomach before he finally pulls his eyes away.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, concern laced in your voice.

“Yeah, I wasn’t near it when it fell.”

“Be careful cleaning it up, here I’ll grab a broom.” You walk out of the room and Wonwoo watches, his eyes trained on the bounce of your ass.

When you’re out of sight Wonwoo sighs and starts to pick up the broken frame and glass. He has it mostly cleaned up by the time you get back, but as soon as you walk into the room Wonwoo gets distracted again. Due to his focus being split, he isn’t careful cleaning up the last piece of glass and slices his finger open. He hisses and you quickly drop the broom to rush to Wonwoo’s side.

Wonwoo can smell your sweet perfume on your skin and he does his best to steady his breathing as you grab his hand. His skin tingles where you touch him, inspecting the cut. You tell him to stay put as you rush out of the room once more. Wonwoo doesn’t dare move, especially because he can feel his dick start to harden in his pants and it would become painfully obvious if he changed his position.

When you get back you kneel down next to him and help clean off the cut before dressing it. When you finish you press your lips to the bandage and smile up at Wonwoo.

“All better! Be more careful, okay? Or else I’ll have to play nurse again.” You send him a wink before getting up and going back to whatever you were doing before the frame fell. Wonwoo groans as soon as you leave, the wink you sent him being all he needs to get his cock to full mast.

He quickly gets up and closes his door. He’s about to jump in his bed when he looks back at his wall to see the damage the frame left. It was held up with a screw and when he looks, it’s clear the screw was torn out of the wall.

This is where the miracle comes in. Wonwoo walks over to assess the damage and when he leans in closer, he realizes light is coming out of the wall. When he presses his eye to the wall, he realizes that he can see right into your room, with the perfect view of your bed and the area right in front of it. The area where you currently are, doing yoga.

Your body is bent in half as you push your ass into the air. Wonwoo can see the way your shorts cling to your ass, the slightest definition of your pussy folds visible.

“Shit,” Wonwoo mutters. He just struck a gold mine.

He quickly sticks his hand down his pants, grasping his achingly hard cock. He stands there, yanking and jerking his cock, watching you fold your body in all different ways. He nuts with a groan, making a mess of inside his pants, but he can’t care when he watches you strip down out of your bra and shorts before heading to your bathroom.

Wonwoo’s never seen you naked before, and he does his best to commit the image to memory, All of your pretty curves and smooth skin and pert nipples. The soft hair that covers your mound and the small bit of pussy peeking out. Wonwoo lets out a shuddering breath. This is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Shortly after that Wonwoo moves his bed so it’s located under the hole.

The new placement makes it not only easier to access the hole without having to cross the room, but also so he can now stay in bed to get off, rather than having to stand with his hand awkwardly in his pants.

Ever since he moved his bed he finds himself pressing his eye to the wall everyday, trying to get a look at your precious, bare body. Everytime he does get a peek his dick gets painfully hard and it doesn’t take long for him to be spilling his seed all over his hand. If you wonder why Wonwoo has been doing laundry so often, you don’t mention it.

When not in the confines of his room, Wonwoo does his best to be a good roommate, trying not to stare at the swell of your tits or the jiggle of your thighs, but it doesn’t always work. Especially when it seems like you’re making a point to flash your cleavage at him. You never seem to notice his staring though, always sending sweet smiles to Wonwoo. Sometimes he swears you find any reason to be touchy with him, but he doesn’t mind. He loves when you get close enough that he can smell the shampoo you used earlier that morning.

Wonwoo doesn’t think that being your roommate can get any better, until the day he catches you touching yourself.

You and Wonwoo both had spend the day in your respective rooms and it isn’t until later in the night that Wonwoo decides to take a peek in on you. He instantly thanks whatever God told him to do so because there you are, splayed out on the bed, your legs spread as you rub your clit over your soaked panties.

Your shirt has been discarded and Wonwoo can see the bare peaks of your chest heave as you struggle to catch your breath. If Wonwoo holds his breath and strains his ears, he can hear the soft shallow breaths you’re taking, mixed with the sweetest moans Wonwoo has ever heard.

Wonwoo’s dick is quickly making his pants too tight and he presses himself up to the wall as much as he can, like it will get him closer to you somehow. Your fingers are rapid as they rub at your bud, but it’s still clearly not enough as you let out a frustrated mewl and hook your fingers into the waistband of your underwear so you can slide them down your legs.

When you spread your legs again, Wonwoo gets an eyeful of your whole velvety, sopping cunt. Wonwoo sucks in a breath, trying not to make any noise. He’s seen parts of your pussy when you’ve been undressing, but never the full shot. Now that he has, it’s driving him crazy.

Your folds are glistening and Wonwoo can’t pull his eyes away from your swollen clit. Wonwoo nearly busts a nut when you slide your fingers down and push our folds apart. You tease yourself for a moment before plunging your fingers into your hole. Wonwoo can hear every slick noise your pussy makes and he fucks his fist at the pace your fingers are going, imaginging your cunt is wrapped around him.

Your hips are arching off your bed as you continue to finger yourself. Wonwoon thinks about how his own fingers are much longer than yours. How he would reach so much farther and fill you up better. You’d whine and moan and chant his name as he pounded your g-spot.

Wonwoo is still thinking about how he’d touch you, how he’d fuck you, when he thrusts once more into his fist and paints his walls white. On the other side of the wall your body is tensing up and you’re crying out as you reach your high as well. You look gorgeous with your legs pushed far apart and your hand squeezing your own breasts. The image stays in Wonwoo’s mind for weeks after that.

The only time Wonwoo ever has qualms against the peephole’s existence is the night you bring Seungcheol over. You’ve been out all night and you don't come home until it’s late. Wonwoo didn’t know the reason why you were gone but he quickly figures it out when you come bursting into the apartment, giggling and trying to shush the person with you.

Wonwoo scrambles to press his eye up to the hole in the wall and watch as your lights flip on. He watches as a man follows you into your room and shuts the door before shoving you back onto your bed. He’s well built and has a handsome face but looks slightly shorter than Wonwoo. Wonwoo hates him instantly.

Seungcheol is the name that you moan out when he climbs over you and dips his head down to kiss at your neck. Wonwoo doesn’t want to watch this. He doesn’t want to see another man touch you in the way he desperately needs to.

He just can’t seem to pull his eyes away though.

Wonwoo watches as your date roams his hands all over your body before pulling away to help you strip all your clothes off. A soft growl escapes Wonwoo’s throat. Why does this random guy get to see you, touch you, feel you, when he can’t?

Your skin glows under the yellow lights of the ceiling fan and Wonwoo tries to focus on you, rather than the naked man grinding his cock against your backside as he kneads your breasts. At least you two are standing now, instead of on the bed. Wonwoo can see you this way, without Seungcheol’s body covering yours. He can see the way you close your eyes and gasp as Seungcheol trails his hand down your front and to your core. He licks his lips when Seungcheol props your leg up on a crate nearby, spreading your pussy lips.

His fingers circle your clit and Wonwoo drools at the sight of your delicious, dripping cunt on display for him. The angle you two are standing at is right in front of the peephole and Wonwoo swears it’s like you two are putting on a show for him. His own personal live porn show.

Seungcheol moves to your front and Wonwoo is about to get annoyed when suddenly the other man drops to his knees. His fingers clamp down on your hips before he’s diving in, his mouth lapping at your cunt. Words cannot describe how desperately Wonwoo wishes that was him.

As Seungcheol mouths at your cunt, Wonwoo watches your face, focusing on the way your features contort into an expression of pure pleasure. Wonwoo can almost imagine it’s him making you look like that. Your fingers move down to bury themself in Seungcheol’s hair, your hips rutting up against his face.

Seungcheol continues to suck on your clit as you whine above him, impatient and needy. If it was Wonwoo in that position he would throw you on the bed and ravish your pussy, filling you up and now stopping until you’ve creamed on his cock at least three times.

It takes you yanking on Seungcheol’s hair a little too hard for him to finally pull away and stand up again. He moves back to his original position so his front is pressed up against your back, his fingers going back to rubbing at your sensitive clit.

Your breathing has gotten labored and Wonwoo can see the tip of Seungcheol’s dick poke through your folds as he rubs his length against your slit. You whine for him to get a condom and Seungcheol does, rolling it on before grabbing you again and spearing you on his cock. You moan, the loudest Wonwoo has ever heard you, and Wonwoo can’t hold back anymore. He pulls his own cock out, angry and dripping.

Seungcheol fucks you nicely, gentle hands and soft kisses. It annoys Wonwoo. He wants to see you ruined on your cock. It’s clear you feel the same way too. Wonwoo feels smug knowing that he could give it to you the way you want.

You and Seungcheol eventually move to your bed. He fucks you in missionary and you even though you orgasm, after you see Seungcheol out you’re sticking your dildo to the wall and fucking yourself with it. Your ass in the air with your face buried in your sheets. Your hips are frantic as you push back onto the toy, brutally pounding your pussy.

You kept shushing Seungcheol earlier, telling him ‘your roommate is home’ but now that you’re alone you don’t bother to cover up your moans. Wonwoo doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, but he wants to think it is.

Wonwoo cums twice that night and goes to bed with the satisfying feeling knowing that despite another man having you, he could still give it to you better than anyone else.

You don’t bring men over again after that night, but it seems like you’re masturbating more than usual. Wonwoo doesn’t mind, though he does think his dick might fall off if you keep going at this rate. It’s not just you touching yourself that drives him crazy though.

There was that one day when you two where after you ate dinner together you proposed watching a movie together. Wonwoo already struggled through the whole dinner and the idea of having to sit through a movie with you was too much. He still said yes.

When he sits down on the couch he quickly adjusts his sweats so his semi doesn’t show. You two made dinner together tonight and the whole time you kept brushing up against him in the kitchen. You were in just a thin tank top and everytime you got too close to him, he could see down your shirt. On top of the shorts you’re wearing that your ass cheeks hang out of in the back, he’s been half gone for hours now.

Halfway through the movie you start to shuffle around on the couch. Wonwoo is hyper aware of your movements and it gets worse and you move to cuddle up to his side, throwing your legs over his lap. Wonwoo’s afraid you’re going to feel his stiff dick, but you don’t seem to. Or if you do, you don’t bring it up.

Your body is pressed up against his side and you’re warm and soft and your scent floods Wonwoo’s nose and his brain. He wants to grab you and fuck you right there, but he has at least some decency and spends the rest of the night trying to think of the worse things he can.

Towards the end of the movie you start to shift again, still all over Wonwoo. Your thighs are completely exposed on his lap and your already tiny shorts have rode up your legs so they look more like panties than anything else. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into the arm rest, doing his best to ignore the rub of your legs against his cock.

When the movie finishes Wonwoo quickly throws your legs off of him and he retreats into his room as fast as he can. You two have never been that physically close to each other for that prolonged of a period and Wonwoo can barely push his pants down his legs before he’s releasing long, thick ropes of cum onto his sheets.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s gotten into you but after that day it seems like you’re always touching and teasing him. He almost swears you’re doing it on purpose.

The worse case is the day you were prancing around the apartment in nothing but a pair of tight panties and a t-shirt. The hem of the shirt fell around at the top of your thigh, so the bottom part of your panties were still on display. Wonwoo can see the definition of your pussy lips peeking out at him.

Wonwoo hides in his room the rest of the day just so he doesn’t pop a boner in the living room. At least in his room he can keep it hidden. Pretend he has some shame about what he’s doing.

Then The Day comes.

Wonwoo is sitting on his bed, messing around with some mobile game, when he hears you. Over time his ears have been trained to pick up on the soft noises you make, but this time you’re not trying to be quiet.

Wonwoo quickly turns to press his eye to the wall, staring through the hole to look into your bedroom. You’re once again spread out on the bed, your pussy bare and spread for Wonwoo’s viewing pleasure. You’re shoving a dildo into your cunt, your juices flying everywhere as you plunge the toy in and out of your needy core rapidly.

Wonwoo is too caught up in staring at your cunt, that he nearly misses your words. “Ahh~ W-wonu, please,” you beg.

Wonwoo’s heart flies into his throat.

“Woo, please. Fuck, I need you. I know you’re over there, watching me. Stop being so mean and finally come help.” Your words are breathy and labored, intertwined with high pitched whines.

Wonwoo feels like he’s in a dream. He doesn’t process anything until he’s standing in your room, over your naked body. His cock is leaking in his boxers and the tent it’s forming is clear.

You look gorgeous on the bed, sweaty and warm with droopy eyes and a messy cunt.

There’s no thoughts in Wonwoo’s brain and he quickly tears his clothes off his body. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your body and drag you to the edge of the bed. He pushes his dripping cock up to your slit, dragging it through your folds, getting the head even messier.

Just the slight contact of your soft, wet folds against his tip makes Wonwoo go mad. A growl rips from his throat and he leans down to suck one of your tits into his mouth. His teeth brush against your nipple and he bites it lightly before pulling his head back, tugging your nipple along with him.

You can’t do anything but squirm and whine on the bed, your fingers clawing at the sheets below you. Wonwoo’s cock keeps teasing your entrance, dipping into your pussy only to be pulled back before he can get in farther than the tip.

“Wonwoo,” you whine. “Please.”

“Please what?” Wonwoo looks down his nose at you, smirking.

“P-put it in,” you say in a shy voice. Wonwoo doesn’t think you have room to be shy anymore, teasing him all this time, knowing you were driving him crazy.

“Put what in you baby? My cock?” You whine again. “Not yet.” Wonwoo’s cock is aching to fuck you, but he suddenly has the determination to drive you as crazy and you’ve been driving him.

Wonwoo pulls his hips back from you fully and you lift your hips, trying to chase the friction. Wonwoo pushes your hips back down against the mattress, pinning you there. He uses his other free hand to push your thighs apart farther. You gasp as he pushes his fingertips between your folds and sinks them into your awaiting pussy.

Wonwoo’s cock is twitching as it hangs in the air, both his own pre-cum and your arousal smeared all over it. Wonwoo reaches down and takes his cock into his hand and starts to pump himself to the pace he’s thrusting his fingers into you. Which albeit, isn’t very fast.

You roll your hips against his hand, trying to get him to go faster. Wonwoo knew you had a needy fucking pussy, but he didn’t realize it was this bad. He pulls his fingers out of you but doesn’t make them go far. He lines his fingertips up to your cunt and slaps it a couple times, quick and harsh. You yelp before turning it into a moan. Wonwoo lips his lips as he sees the slick slide down your pussy and onto the sheets.

“You like that? Nasty fucking girl,” Wonwoo growls before slapping you again, right over the clit. You buck your hips up, not caring that your cunt stings, you’re too desperate and need more.

Wonwoo shoves his fingers back into you, stuffing your pussy full. This time he isn’t slow at all. He pushes his fingers in and out of you brutally, his fingertips scraping up against your gummy walls. You wail at the feeling, your eyes never trailing away from where Wonwoo is still tugging at his dick.

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out of you, rapidly brushing them over your folds. You’re screaming as you orgasm, your body spasming as you leak slick all over. Your body finally drops to the bed, limp, and Wonwoo pulls his sticky fingers away from your pussy and up to your mouth.

He prods at your lips and you don’t hesitate to open up and let Wonwoo slide his fingers into your hot, wet mouth. You lick your own arousal off of his digits, before sucking at them intensely, staring up at Wonwoo with big eyes. Wonwoo pushes down on your tongue, letting your saliva collect there as you start to gag a bit, eyes watering. Wonwoo imagines that it’s his cock in your mouth, your tongue all over him as you do your best to slurp all of him down.

Wonwoo’s cock is about to burst now, and he’s finally done teasing you. He rips his fingers out of your mouth and you let out a disappointed huff. Wonwoo doesn’t pay any mind to it though as he shoves you over so you’re laying on your stomach, ass in the air.

Wonwoo moves up to you so he can rub up against your folds again, getting his dick slick.

“Fuck me raw, please,” you beg, your voice strained. “Fill me up and cum in me, Woo.”

Wonwoo groans and lines himself up, thrusting hard into you without warning. Your walls are soft and warm and silky around him and he keeps pushing in until he’s buried into you to the hilt. His grip on your hips is tight as he tries to keep some of his control, though he’s not sure how long it will last. He smirks victoriously to himself, knowing that he gets to fuck you raw while Seungcheol had to wrap it. Good he doesn’t want anyone else to know what your tight pussy really feels like. This is all for him.

Wonwoo presses his hand between your shoulder blades, forcing you even further down so your whole face is shoved against your mattress. You’re all his now, which means he can do whatever he wants to you. He drags his cock out of you, long and slow, before swiftly snapping his hips back into yours. Your whole body lurches forwards and your cry is muffled by the sheets.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo grunts, “your cunt is so fucking greedy, sucking me back in. I bet you like this, don’t you? You dirty little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for me to do this. Come and fill up your pathetic pussy because nobody else could satisfy you?”

Wonwoo’s hips plow into you, fast and rough, not bothering to focus on you. You got to cum once, this is all about Wonwoo’s pleasure now. Wonwoo lifts his right hand up high and brings it back down, smacking your ass cheek red. He groans at the recoil, watching the way the fat jiggles under his palm.

The sound of Wonwoo’s balls slapping against your cunt fills the air along with the wet squelch of your pussy suctioned around his dick. Paired with the desperate sounds of sheer pleasure coming from your lips, Wonwoo swears he’s reached heaven.

Wonwoo stares down at you, your round ass bouncing on his dick as you grasp the sheets in your fingers. Your back is arched with your whole front completely flush with the bed as he ruins you on his cock.

You’re babbling complete nonsense and Wonwoo spanks your ass one, two, three more times. “Speak up, slut. Or have I fucked you completely stupid already? My cock just too good for your dumb rain to handle?”

“I-,” you gasp, “p-please. Need to cum.”

“You need to cum? Isn’t that a little selfish of you? I haven’t cum once and you’re here begging to cum a second time. Is your pussy actually that slutty?” Wonwoo scoffs. “You’re my toy now, so be good and maybe you’ll cum a second time.”

Wonwoo grabs your head by your hair and yanks so your neck leans back. Your pants are more audible now and Wonwoo leans down to pull your whole body up so your back is pressed to his front. He snakes his hands around your front and gropes at your tits, harsh and mean as he squeezes them roughly.

“God, you feel so fucking good. I love your nasty little cunt wrapped around me.”

Wonwoo can feel himself getting closer. His balls twitch as his length aches. Wonwoo leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he thrusts into you once more before he’s painting your walls white. Wonwoo keeps cumming until he’s completely filled you up. He can feel your pussy clench down around him as you reach your orgasm as well, obsessed with the feeling of his cum leaking into your cunt.

When Wonwoo is done milking himself, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, letting your body fall back onto your bed. You look completely ruined with your messy hair and tear stained cheeks and shaking limbs.

Wonwoo himself isn’t feeling much better. His head is filled with a pleasant post-coitus buzz and his muscles are sore from the intensive use. He stares down at you and you smile up at him. He reaches down and wipes some tears out of your eyes.

“You were so good for me, pretty girl,” he mutters, praise finally falling off his lips. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Wonwoo quickly gets you a towel and a glass of water before moving back to your room. You’re still laying on your bed, but you look a little more in tune with what’s going around you than before. You allow Wonwoo to help you clean up as you drink down your water.

Wonwoo busies himself getting dressed as you move into your bathroom to pee. When you come back out Wonwoo is still standing in the middle of your room.

“So…how long have you known?” He feels a bit awkward asking, even though he just rearranged your guts.

“Since the first day,” you answer casually, like it’s obvious. “I saw the hole when I went to help you clean up the glass. Then I heard you uh…getting off when I was doing yoga.”

Wonwoo groans. “I…I’m sorry.”

You snort a bit. “I doubt that. I didn’t mind though, or else I would have closed up the hole. Honestly it took you a little too long to do something about it. I was hoping you would come and fuck me after my failed hook up with Seungcheol.”

“That was months ago,” Wonwoo says in slight disbelief.

“Exactly!” You shout. “Doesn’t matter anymore though. I’ve got you now and you’ll fuck me whenever I want. Right?” You stand up and walk over to Wonwoo, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Wonwoo grins at you. “Anything for my pretty little toy,” he answers, before leaning down to press his lips against yours.

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buckyalpine · 4 months

Text

I'm here for some angst and fluff rn. Bucky being sad no one trusts him after his metal arm is taken off during a fight.

Bucky stared at the dark grey metal that fell to the floor with a clank, his vibranium arm no longer attached to his body with just a few pushes to his joint. The fight ended, leaving the soldier lost as he picked his arm off the floor, fingers trembling around the cold material. It felt dead in his hand, the emotional weight of it far heavier than anything else he'd ever carried.

"Did you know they could do that?" Sam asked, eyeing Bucky carefully while he locked his arm in place, readjusting it with a swing. The gold plates shifted to recalibrate, his fingers flexing while trying to silence his thoughts that begin to run a million miles a minute.

"No"

Bucky trudged down the hall, his heart sinking when he could hear the soft humming from inside his apartment, his sweet girl already waiting for him to come home. He usually felt the weight of the world life off his shoulders when you were around.

Not today.

Not when he knew what he really was.

What he had been all along.

He let out a strained breath before rummaging for his keys and opening the door, the smell of tea, sugar and vanilla wafting through the kitchen and living room. He thought about escaping as soon as he toed his boots off, locking himself in the shower and calling it an early night, of course you'd understand but his body won over what his mind was screaming.

Your face lit up as soon as you heard the door creak open, setting down the book you were reading, excited to see Bucky after he'd been gone for days for a mission. Your happiness was short lived as he padded into the living room, the strained smile on his face doing nothing to mask the pain he was feeling. You could see the turmoil in his eyes, waves of emotion crashing over him before he could surface.

"What's wrong, bub" You coo softly, opening your arms for him. Bucky kept his jacket on, avoiding melting into your hold even though he craved it more than ever.

"Do people still think I'm dangerous?" He asks quietly, shifting away from you when he feels you pressed against his arm. Something so soft and sweet as you definitely didn't have any business being near something so terrible, disgusting, murderous-

"What? No baby, why would you say that?" Your heart breaks at the tears that begin to well in his eyes, his nose and cheeks reddening as he suppresses all the emotions that desperately want to bubble over.

"I-I had no idea others would be able to remove it" He whispers, chewing his lip till he nearly draws blood, avoiding your gaze to stare at the floor instead. The fluffy rug turns blurry as tears begin to escape, his throat growing unbearably tight. "M'still a monster" His voice cracks before the first cry slips out.

Your pull him into your chest as sobs begin to wrack his body, letting him lay on you while you wrap him safely in your arms. The feeling of your affection is too much for Bucky, he doesn't deserve it but he needs it; he feels selfish as he allows you to hold him, hiding his face into the crook of your neck.

"What happened, sweet boy" You coo against his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks. He continued to sniffle between whimpers, trying to calm down, fresh waves of emotion holding him down, his metal arm gripping onto the sofa cushions.

His arm was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

"During a fight" Bucky let out a shuddered breath before continuing, shame seeping through his veins. What would you think of him if you knew the people who had healed him still didn't trust him, "We were trying to calm things down. I didn't mean to do anything-I didn't-I was holding back, we wanted to talk things over, she-"

He bit his lip again as it trembled, still feelings the spots that were pushed, sending his arm to the floor, "I didn't even know what was happening. She hit my shoulder in a few spots and my arm fell right off"

You stopped your ministrations, your heart breaking into two hearing the pain in his voice. Bucky sounded so small, like an admonished child scared to tell the truth. He curled himself up further, still flexing his fingers, almost fearful his arm would fall off again without warning. You moved your arms to hug him tighter, wishing you could take away at least half the pain his was feeling.

"I didn't know they could do that" He said with defeat, still softly sniffling while you kissed the top of his head.

"You're not a monster baby" You knew how much work Bucky had put in, how much he struggled to get a hold of his mind again, how long it took for him to learn to trust others, to trust himself.

"Then why" You knew he was desperate hearing the plead in his voice. Why. Why did others still have control over his own body. Why were others still able to do things to him without his knowledge.

Why?

"I wish they'd told you why, baby boy" You brought your hand to gently tip his chin up, making him look at you, "Perhaps they have their reasons. Regardless, your heart is pure, Bucky" Your hands moved under his jacket and tshirt, stroking his bare skin, the feel of your pure hands already soothing his aching heart.

"They don't trust me" He sighed, sitting up again as his mind swirled. You didn't let him spiral for long, straddling his lap while his arms moved on their own to wrap around your waist.

"They do, bub" you shook your head, cupping his cheeks so he'd look at you. "They took you in and healed you because you were worth healing. You deserved it. I need you to remember my sweet Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes is a good man. The opposite of dangerous, a soft, sweet boy"

"Do-do you trust me" His voice was small again, looking at you through his lashes, nervously fidgeting with the hem of the Henley you'd stolen.

"I trust you with my life, Bucky" You took his metal hand, brushing your lips against the gold ridges before kissing each of his cool finger tips. "Every single part of you. Your mind. Your body. All of it"

The mental exhaustion of the day began to take it's toll as his eyes grew heavy, cuddling into you while you rocked him in a comfortable silence. You smiled at the soft snores you heard moments later as Bucky fell asleep in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, baby" you whispered, gently waking him and taking a quick warm shower before jumping into bed. He was right back in your arms as soon as you pulled the sheets back, the grating voices not so loud any more.

Regardless of what the world though, had you.

A pure sweet angel.

She trusted him.

That had to mean something.

It would be a long road of healing but at least his had his angel to guide him.

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orcasoul · 3 months

Text

Joel Miller Headcanons

Joel's Reaction When You're Sexually Harassed

Ahhhh I love me some protective Joel :)

Joel didn't think nights like this could ever exist again; Night's reminiscent of the 'Before Times', when you could unwind, leave your stress and worries behind for a little while and just enjoy the moment. The jovial laughter and carefree atmosphere that fills the community hall still amazes him.

For too long, people in this world just existed, trying to make it from one lousy day to the next, always having to look over their shoulder. But here in Jackson it's different. Life doesn't just go on, it thrives, breathes, grows stronger, a testament to the resilience and determination of the human spirit.

Even though some things here seemed frivolous at first, Joel had to admit the room did look beautiful, with fairy lights strung up and handmade decorations adorning the walls - all for the anniversary of Jacksons' founding- but it all pales in comparison at the sight before him now.

There you are, his 'partner in crime' (as you so often playfully referred to the both of you as), looking effortlessly radiant as usual, long hair draping over both shoulders, the ends trailing down to the low cut top that accentuates your cleavage, (not that he's looking, nope, not looking at all), a pink tint to your cheeks and a smile that could bring Joel to his knees.

"Hey guys, mind if I sit?" you gesture to the empty seat at the table. "Please join us," Maria smiles warmly. Joel removes his coat from the back of the empty chair beside him and pulls it out, an invitation to make yourself comfortable. "Such a gentleman," you beam at Joel, gently nudging his shoulder with your own. Joel smiles, "Always am, darling."

He doesn't miss how your already pink cheeks flush even brighter at his response, but no, couldn't mean... nope she'll never see you that way, so don't even go there. He listens intently as Tommy and you discuss your patrols with Joel, blushing slightly as you praise him for his capability and competence beyond the walls, even going as far as to calling him a good teacher.

"Well, you're a quick learner. Not everyone catches on as fast as you." Joel has to fight with the small smile threatening to break into a full on grin at his pride in you. Tommy raises his eyebrows in amusement as he watches the easy back and fourth between you two. The night goes on and Joel wishes it would never end.

Just sitting here with you, listening to the sweet lilt of your voice, watching the way your face lights up in genuine laughter brings a warmth to Joel's already thawing heart. He watches you leave as you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. He knows what's coming just from the smug looks his brother and sister-in law are giving him.

"Don't...," Joel rolls his eyes, "It's not like that at all." "Mmhmm...," Tommy hums, smirking into his glass. Joel huffs, returning his attention to his drink. A few minutes later he sees you making your way across the room, weaving in and out of dancing couples, when you are suddenly blocked from view by a large back and broad shoulders.

Joel is instantly on his feet, defence mode triggered in his brain, suspiciously eyeing this seemingly insistent man. The look on your face tells him everything he needs to know; You're uncomfortable and looking for a way out. His feet move as if they are their own entity, taking large strides across the floor, fists balled up and jaw clenched.

He can't make out what you're saying but it's obvious you are refusing this mans' advances. As you try to push past, the man grabs your wrist, making you wince in pain. Joe's eyes widen in shock. This fucker actually had the audacity to lay his hands on you. Pure, unbridled rage burst through Joel's veins, burning him from the inside out, his objective now crystal clear.

In the next moment, Joel had spun the asshole around, connecting his fist to his jaw, relishing the satisfying crack that resulted. "Don't ever put your fucking hands on her again!" Joel roared while pulling you behind him, shielding you with his large frame. He could feel you trembling as you placed a hand on his back, which only angered him more. How dare this entitled piece of shit treat you that way. You deserve to feel safe in your own community!

"What the fuck, man!" fumed the stranger as he picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his injured jaw. The room suddenly became void of voices, the jukebox being the only continuous sound for a moment, as all eyes shifted to the unfolding scene. The man's gaze shifts from Joel to you. "Seriously?!" he narrow's his eyes at you, anger painting his face red. "You'd rather fuck this old timer than me!"

"Back. The. Fuck. Off... Now!" Joel growled lowly. The guy looks back to Joel. "You know what...," he scoffs, "You're fucking welcome to it! God knows where that whore has be-" Crack!! He falls onto the table, then onto the floor with a sickening thud as Joel rains down, blow after blow. '"Joel! Joel stop!" He can hear you, but he can't stop, not after the vile comments aimed at you.

"Joel, please!" Only upon feeling your hand on his arm did Joel stop, turning to face you, hoping his actions haven't frightened you. But instead of fear or disgust all he sees is concern in your eyes. He turns back to face the man when he hears him groaning while being picked up and escorted out by a few other men.

Tommy appears at Joel's side, quietly reminding him that there are better ways to deal with people like that, - even if his look is silently conveying an 'I would have done the same thing' message -, then he makes sure you are okay before trying to ease the tension in the air by encouraging everyone to return to their business.

"Joel...," you whisper while gently taking hold of his bloodied hand, examining the gashes and forming bruises. "Let's go. We need to take care of this." Joel nods at you, allowing you to lead him outside.

Joel sits at your kitchen table, watching studiously as you sit in front of him, rummage through your first aid box. The deep concentration etched onto your face as you carefully dab at his split knuckles, stirs up a multitude of feelings in Joel's gut; Relief that you're okay and not afraid of what you saw, appreciation at how attentive you are and a fierce need to protect you from any more harm in future.

"I think it's broken," you say, sadly. "Yeah, probably just a hairline. It'll be okay," he shrugs it off, trying to reassure you. You sigh and shake your head. "You shouldn't have done that, Joel." Joel's brows knit together in confusion. "I shouldn't have helped you?" "I mean, I appreciate you defending me, I really do...," your eyes meet his and he can feel the sincerity of your words. You return your focus to Joel"s hand. "But he's not worth breaking your hand over."

It kills Joel that you sound guilty, as if you're blaming yourself for what happened, when it was all the fault of that arrogant prick. "No, he's not...," Joel replied flatly, then gently lifts your chin with his other hand to look softly into your eyes, "But you are." Joel watches as your frown softens into a heartfelt smile, your eyes glistening with un-shed tears.

His eyes momentarily drop to your lips, looking so soft and plump, he wonders if they'd feel as soft as they look. He doesn't have to wonder for long. In the blink of an eye his collar is in your grasp, your lips crashing onto his, and oh, they are soft, just like he knew they would be. Is this really happening?! Joel skims his tongue along your bottom lip and immediately you open, welcoming his tongue as it claims your mouth.

His hands settle on your waist, gently hoisting you up off of your chair and onto his lap. Joel feels your pert tits press against his chest and his cock press against his jeans. He moans into your mouth, running his good hand up your back to cup the back of your head. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss, tounges and teeth battling it out in a game dominance and passion.

When you both finally part, panting for breath, Joel rests his forehead against yours and murmurs, " You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, baby." "You don't know how long I've wanted you to do that," you coo sweetly. Joel chuckles and kisses the tip of your nose. "I'll do that for however long you'll have me." Whatever is happening between you both, Joel knows this is the start of something amazing.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader

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princessbrunette · 3 months

Text

when sarah and john b had decided they wanted to recruit you to join their relationship, there were a few subtle steps they had planned to take.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡

they saw your potential. they knew perhaps you weren’t the most overtly sexual in nature, but they also knew they could change that. sex was like cake, you could never just eat one spoonful of it. all they had to do, was pique your interest — not just in sex, but in sex with them specifically.

baby steps. you ask sarah to send her the videos she took of you guys from the party the night before, and she ‘accidentally’ includes a video of her and john b fucking she’d taken on her phone the same day. of course she acted bashful, apologising profusely for the mistake and acting incredibly grateful when you’d told her there was no problem and that you’d delete it.

‘yk i wouldn’t even really care if you watched it tbh. i trust you. its only me and john b anyway… 🤷🏼‍♀️💕’

— she’d text you after a moments passed. curiosity of course got the better of you, a shaky, clammy finger pressing the play button as you nervously bite your nail, glancing at the door and turning the volume way down as precaution as if someone were to catch you. the focus seemed to be on sarah, grinding her hips to ride the brunette boy, soft tits bouncing as he lazily smacks her ass and encourages her to keep riding. she seemed to be putting in the work, john b merely used as a vessel for pleasure, a dildo with a voice box— and something about that had you shamefully heating up. sure, your knowledge on sex was fairly limited — but what you did know through movies and tv shows was that guys were usually too prideful to let the girl do the work, yet therefore caring less for her pleasure. the two of them seemed… open. different.

the text of apparent permission sarah had sent you only made you feel the slightest bit less guilty when you snuck your hand down the waistband of your panties and humped clumsily at your palm as you hit replay.

the blonde cameron had facetimed you suddenly and out of the blue seven minutes later. you yanked your hand out your pants like there’d be a way for her to see you before you’d accepted the call and you swallow thickly, brain too frazzled to think before hitting the green button. she was smiling, laying on her bed in that white tank top that hugged her tits, the same tits from the video and accentuated her golden, barbie tan. you try and be normal about it. she’s just your friend after all.

“hey, what are you doing right now?”

you blink at her, the way she’s smiling at you — before checking yourself out in the small box in the corner. you look all heated and askew, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. fuck.

you told her you were watching a movie and then excused yourself not even two minutes later, overcome with embarrassment and the feeling of being caught. sarah rolls over once the call ends, smirking to john b who was reclined on her bed with a hand behind his head, scrolling through his own phone.

“she was totally getting herself off.” she purs matter-of-factly. the brunette boys eyes light up a little as he glances over, brows shifting upwards.

“yeah? how’d you know?”

“she had it written all over her face.”

the two of them got greedy, with the whole introducing you to the idea of being chronically horny thing. without even really speaking about it, they figured the more they normalised this kind of behaviour in the group dynamic, the more likely you were to feel comfortable enough to let them hit. jj maybank was sexual in nature to the knowledge of anyone who had the pleasure of having a conversation with him longer than five minutes. he was sure to make it easy and perhaps bridge the gap, they just needed their in.

by that point, you’d started to catch on anyway.

the four of you sit in a small uneven circle on the floor of the chateau, drinking on a friday night. at first you’re a little confused — you were so sure sarah had been hinting at something with you, herself and john b for a while now — but as you sat beside jj on the floor, his arm rested casually behind you, rubbing casual circles on your waist you perhaps started to question whether or not you’d made that up, and really they were just trying to be friendly so they could set you up with their friend.

as soon as the words ‘truth or dare’ leave john b’s mouth with a knowing, yet trusting and warm grin — you knew it was bound to take a turn. with this group, it always did. everything was about sex, whether you were doing it or talking about it or pretending to do it infront of eachother, it was some kind of secret obsession that you could feel yourself feeding into without knowing. a lamb being brought in to be sacrificed, a group of secretly perverted individuals itching to get your sweet, cranberry blood on their hands.

sarah speaks your name when you foolishly pick dare, worried if you had picked truth they’d make you recount all the things you’d hadn’t done. she leans across the circle to you on her hands and knees so her face is right in front of yours, breath in your face, ass in john b’s.

“i want you… to show me how you’d ride a dick.”

“what?”

she pushes back, reaching behind her on the couch and fetching the throw pillow, placing it in the centre of the circle with a mischievous grin. the pillow it long, firm and rectangular — the comfiest of its kind to nap on during the day whilst the group discuss whatever mishap they were planning on getting into that week.

“aw now we’re talkin’” jj gets comfortable, sitting back a little with a jokey grin. nothing about their tone was out of the ordinary, which what made you feel so comfortable.

“i don’t understand?” you smile, tilting your head like a lost puppy which only made you appear more delicious as their prey.

“straddle the pillow… and show us what you’d do if you were to ride an actual, real dick.” sarah explains kindly, even pulling your hand so you would shuffle forward on your knees to the centre of the small circle.

“look, we know you haven’t done that before— no shame in it,” john b shrugs one shoulder understandingly with an air of casualness which calmed you. “but a dares a dare and hey, maybe you could learn something right now.”

“i been told i’mma pretty good teacher too, so—” jj starts casually in his amused drawl, but is cut short pretty quickly by the sarah snapping her head towards him, her tone more curt and snappy.

“jj.” she scolds quickly and he shuts up, but as quickly as she changed her tone, she was back to smiling back at you encouragingly. she didn’t want jj to take it too far with the pervy jokes and send you running. their plan was perfectly crafted, and they didn’t need him ruining it. john b’s eyes linger on the blonde. nothing malicious about it, perhaps a warning though — because jj presses his lips together and moves his glance back to you with a thick swallow.

all in this time, you had decided to take another long swig of your drink before straddling the pillow. the group cheer, the fun and jokey atmosphere back in full swing as you cover your face, giggling into your hands.

your skirt stretches over your upper thighs at the position, and you shuffle — ensuring you’re sat comfortable on the throw cushion. perhaps the alcohol had lowered your guard, because without much thought — you wince, the material catching over your clit. you were sensitive, assumably from ovulation and as you try to get into a comfortable position, your face falls, realising you may be too sensitive to partake.

“uhm,” you clear your throat as the playful jeering dies down.

“go ahead. fulfil your dare.” sarah chuckles, leaning back against the couch behind her.

“i can’t.” you whisper, smile slipping off your face. the couples hearts drop a few millimetres in their chest, thinking perhaps they’d made you uncomfortable and soiled the whole thing. the blonde girls eyebrows furrow, leaning forward and scooching to sit directly infront of you.

“why? are you okay? i’m— i’m sorry—”

“no i’m okay,” you let out an airy laugh that relieves everyone. “maybe i’m just drunk but i’m a little sensitive… don’t think i can sit n’hump this pillow without…” you trail off, your shame sending heat to your cheeks and behind your ears. john b raises his eyebrows slowly in expectation.

“without…?”

you clench your thighs around the pillow, mortified, looking down at it before back up at him with puppy dog eyes and your teeth tucked over your bottom lip all sheepish. made him wanna finger you until you cried.

luckily, sarah’s face lights up with slow realisation, mouth forming an ‘o’ and eyes widening.

“without cumming?” she cooes before swivelling around to look at both boys, laughing in adoration. “aww, you’re sensitive! i didn’t even… know that was a thing!” she beams, and the boys follow, teeth glinting in the low light like hungry hyenas in a cave.

you loosen up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing and you giggle. “yeah… s’just quite a… firm pillow. pressing me in all types of places.” you shrug, girlishly.

“are you seeeeeeriously tellin’ me, that you can’t move back and forth just a little?” jj chuckles, dumbfounded from behind you and you peer shyly over your shoulder with a humble shrug. you wasn’t sure if they were to be making fun of you, but for some odd reason — based off vibes alone, your sensitivity felt like something to be proud of amongst the group. jj licks his lips.

when you turn back, sarah’s in your face again, her warm hands on your knees. she seems comfortable, so you relax into her touch. you notice john b watching the interaction before locking eyes with you and sipping out his beer bottle.

“okay well, a dares a dare, but if you really need someone to help you out…” she giggles, hands sliding up to your hips before she begins to forcefully tug you back and forth — leaving you no choice but to let her make you hump this pillow infront of everyone.

your hands fly to her shoulders to stabilise yourself, sucking in a shaky and unsure gasp as the seams in the fabric repeatedly catch over your clit through your thin panties. the music playing out the speaker seems to get louder, or maybe the blood is just pumping in your ears as the boys let out little encouraging cheers as they chuckle and continue to drink.

sarah tilts her head, hot breath on your jaw as she lowers her voice to something quiet and seductive for just you to hear, her hands now grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you along. “there you go, keep riding it. just like me in that video, right?” she croons, and your brows furrow — unable to stop the pornographic moan from leaving you.

embarrassed at the delighted reactions, you hide your face in sarah’s neck, hot and disorientated from the pleasure, hearing her amused chuckle close up. “its just us, nothing at all to be embarrassed about.” she shrugs against you. “can’t run from the dare, sweetie. jj, you wanna come up behind her and give her a hand?” she asks, and before you can lift your head — her hands have slid up your top, squeezing at your tits.

your hips aren’t left alone for long though, as jj straddles the long pillow right behind you and grips your hips, tugging them back and forth with a boyish roughness that had the fabric scraping against you in a new way. you whimper uncontrollably, feeling the blondes stiff crotch thumping against your backside each time he yanked you back.

“yeah-he-heahh, that’s the stuff. don’t tell me i never do anythin’ for ya babydoll. teachin’ you the valuable lesson of gettin’ off right now.” he drawls in your ear, his body heat making your back arch.

amidst this, john b carries the same cool and collected energy. he leans against the couch as he keeps his eyes on yours, taking another sip of his beer before reaching out and taking your hand in his to gently soothe over your knuckles when you announce in a panic that they were going to make you cum.

“thaaaats it,” he hums, voice bassy and delicious enough to make you hold onto every word, thighs clenching painfully. “riiiiide it out.”

something about his nonchalance made you believe it was perhaps his idea, and not sarah’s like you previously believed.

#john b x reader x sarah #jj x reader x john b x sarah #this is random but had it on my mind 💕#p!link

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leviismybby · 11 months

Text

Sharing one bed with Levi during drip to Marley where you two are broken up, the tension in the air is thick, neither of you speaks. "I'll take the left side." You say, not in the mood for talking, Levi doesn't say anything just nods his head as she watches you sit on the bed. You can't help but glance over at him as he leans against the wall and looks outside of the window, as much as you hate to admit it, he looked good in that blue suit. Darting your eyes back to the selling, Levi looks over at you, his eyes lingering on your legs that were covered by stockings. Fuck he misses the feeling of them being wrapped around him as he- Levi says in his head, not letting those lewd thoughts enter his head. You were his ex and that's how it's going to stay. After a few minutes, you speak. "I have to change." Getting up from the bed, you make your way to your bag and pull out your nightgown. Of course, you packed that instead of just your normal pajamas but the silk was comfortable to sleep in.

Levi isn't looking at you, his back is turned on as he is too busy looking at the streets down below, wondering just how different the life was here than it was back on Paradis. You put your leg up on the chair to take the legging under your skirt off, you look back at Levi to make sure he isn't paying attention before rolling your skirt up, exposing your thigh as you roll one of the long stockings down. What you don't know is that Levi can see your every move in the mirror next to your bed, he knows he should look away but he can't, his eyes remain on you, on that beautiful body of yours as you undress. It isn't long before he feels his cock getting hard in his trousers, all he wanted to do was grab you, pin you to the bed and fuck your brains out but you were an ex. Just an ex...... So why does he find himself longing after that skin of yours, those lips of yours? However this night ends, he knows it won't without one of you lighting up that flame of intense passion and lust that never died out in the first place.

You take the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, Levi has been quiet and that makes you suspicious but you're too tired to deal with his attitude. Levi's eyes follow your back, the soft skin he is begging to touch, he waits for you to take off that last piece of clothing to see your naked body in the dim light of the room. To think that he knows it so well, every curve, every imperfection and it hits him then, he doesn't want another man to see your body. "I just have to put the nightgown on then you can turn around again." You say but before you can put the silk fabric on, Levi's next words send shivers down your spine. "There is no need for that." He takes your waist and spins you around, the look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine and makes your stomach turn. You open your mouth to say something and instead, Levi crushes his lips into yours, kissing you passionately. Every inch of your mind is screaming at you to push him away but your body gives in, your arms wrap around hi neck, welcoming his lips and his tongue. Your mind follows, letting him in completely.

And just like that, the old fire is burning more than it ever was before as your kiss turns messy, Levi's hands go down to your ass and he squeezes it, making you moan against his mouth. "Up." He says against your lips, his voice rough with lust, you jump up, wrapping your legs around his body. Levi carries you to bed, kissing and nipping on your neck as he lays you down on the soft sheets. He pulls away after a moment looking down at you, you're only in your underwear, he can't look away from you. This time you're the one who makes the move, you pull him down by his tie and kiss him, Levi grunts against your lips lying between your open legs, you feel how hard, how desperate he is for you. Your hands tig on his jacket, Levi takes it off, and he makes quick work of his tie and blouse, both found themselves on the floor next to the bed. You bite your lip, admiring his muscular form, he has got even more manly and you love it. Quickly, you reach for his belt, undoing is clumsily but before you can reach his zipper Levi stops you.

"Let me taste you first." Spreading your legs wider, Levi kisses down your body, he takes your nipple into his mouth, your body arching slightly at the action. He moved on, leaving a wet trail of his lips behind as he reached your underwear, he took them between his teeth and pulled them down, revealing your glistening wetness. "Fuck..." He grunts out before leaning down to lick your slit, your breath catches in your throat, hands immediately flying to his soft hair. His tongue starts to move more hungry, he doesn't let a single inch space him, the sloppy sounds of his mouth on your pussy and your moans are all that can be heard in the room. "Missed this fucking pussy so much." Levi mumbles taking your clit in his mouth and sucking on it gently, your hips buck against his face, his hands are grabbing your thighs, running up and down the skin. Those gray sharp eyes look up at you, his tongue flickering against your clit, the sight of you like this is something he wants to save in his memory forever.

His mouth works wonders on you, leaving you to be a moaning mess, he doesn't mind you gripping his hair, it drives him more knowing that the pleasure you're feeling is because of him. He knows you, knows exactly how to drive you over the edge and just when you were about to hit that delicious peak, he pulls away leaving you whining. A string of salvia is connecting his lips to your pussy as he pulls away. Levi licks his lips, kissing your twitching pussy, his mouth kisses up again. "I can't wait anymore. I need to fuck this cunt of yours." You nod watching as he pulls his pants and underwear down, his hard cock coming into your view. He lets you pump him in your hand a couple of times before he positions himself against your wet entrance and pushes in, a slight gasp leaving his lip. "Oh yeah...shit..." His head falls back, his eyes rolling at the back of his head, there is nowhere he would be more than right here like this.

With a deep breath, he starts to slam into you, his cock sliding into your warm walls. "Yes, Levi!" You moan, your hands on his lower back feeling each move of his hips. His eyes are filled with determination, he is focused on one thing and that thing is fucking you. Your voice gets louder and louder as his thrusts get faster and faster, each slam on his hips sending a different wave of pleasure through you. "Harder Levi! I want my harder!" He places his hands on your hips, giving you what you wanted, fucking you harder on his cock. The bed starts to creak under the two of you, the wooden headboard slamming against the wall. "Fuck yes! Right there Levi!" Your hands take hold of his forearms, feeling his biceps flex under your fingertips. "Yeah? Right here?" He says through gritted teeth, pounding you deeper and harder, making you both lose yourself in the intensity of the moment. This wasn't the right place nor the right time given that there is someone in the room next to yours and they are most likely hearing you two have sex right now. But it feels too good for the two of you to stop.

Levi's hands drop from your hips and he leans down against your body, kissing you on the lips while moving his hips, hitting deep inside of you. The kiss is sloppy, you feel the way his hands are gripping the sheets beside your head as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. Pulling away from the kiss, Levi grunts when your warm walls squeeze around his cock, he takes hold of the shaking headboard for support with both of his hands and then starts to thrust into you so hard that you scream out his name, your nails scratch down his back causing Levi to hiss but his hips only get more aggressive. "Fuck. This fucking pussy will be the end of me." The grip on his bad is hard, so hard that the wood starts to break at one point and you aren't even surprised, he has that habit. You feel his cock twitching inside of you as he hits that deep spot. "Yes Levi! I am cumming! I am cumming!" You yell, Levi spits on his fingers and starts to run your clit while keeping up his harsh pounding.

"Levi!" You scream and then squirt all over him, Levi stops moving for a second. "My my...I forgot that my girl was a squirter." Resuming his movements, Levi takes hold of the headboard again, feeling his orgasm built up. "Oh shit. I'll fucking cum.." With one last hard thrust, he quickly pulls out and spills his seed all over your stomach. Both of you close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of each other. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you. Levi takes hold of your hosp again without even asking you. "Are we going for round two?" You smile and Levi smirks slightly. "No. We are going for ten more."

And that's exactly how it was. You two ignored the glaring looks Jean and Connie sent your way the next morning. When Hange informed you later on that they had a room next to you and Levi you felt bad but Levi just whispered in your ear. "Then they better prepare because I'll fuck you even harder later tonight."

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llovedletters · 1 month

Text

𝜗𝜚 birthday boy .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ stargazing ❜ in which: ❛ percy's typically home this time of year, leaving you to celebrate his birthday in your own cabin with one single iris message update at the end of the day. but, for whatever reason, the gods were in your favour because you got to celebrate your boyfriends birthday with him. ❜

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pairing: ❛ percy jackson x fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ use of y/n (😔), cursing ❜

─────────────────────

when you first heard from percy that'd his school year was starting up later than usual and that he'd be able to stay at camp a week longer, you thought to yourself wow, maybe those offerings do work.

it was a blessing and a curse that percy took forever to wake up in the morning, giving you just enough time to sneak out of his bed and spend the few minutes you had blowing up balloons you'd gotten the stoll twins get for you along with everything else you needed.

for gods sake you even contacted his mother a few days earlier just to ask her what he normally did on his birthday so you could make his day perfect.

the balloons flooded the floor and the overwhelming scent of latex and frosting from the singular cupcake you had mixed with the smell that always wafted through percy's cabin.

eventually, the son of posiden would come to realize that this whole time no one had been laying next to him. worry would shoot through his body as he shifted to reach for you. his hands lifted to rub his eyes before sitting up.

"y/n?" his eyes met yours almost instantly, the furrow of his eyebrowns loosening. "gods you scared the shit out of me."

once he finally got a good look around, a smile lifted. the little indents next to the corner of his mouth becoming more prominent. "what's all this?"

"it's for your birthday!"

percy never understood how he got so lucky with you. he watched in admiration as the flame flickered on the freshly lit candle. the blue wax slowing dripping down it's frame.

"it is your birthday right? august 18th?"

percy kicked the covers off. "yeah - yeah it is. when did you do all this?"

"while you were absolutely knocked out like 20 minutes ago. come blow out your candle before it gets in the frosting."

percy's feet hit the ground almost too quickly. he sits down next to you and presses a quick kiss to your forehead. he looks to you, then the candle, and closes his eyes before blowing out the flame.

"i wished for us by the way."

"you can't say that now it won't come true." he gently takes the cupcake from your hands, the warmth of them together waking you up a second time.

"yes it will." percy began, his mouth full of the bite he just took. "you think i'm gonna let my totally perfect girlfriend do all this and not marry her? you're kidding yourself, y/n/n."

you scoff before wiping the frosting off his lip. "happy birthday seaweed brain."

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. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY! is this lay? actually posting?! everyone clap!

"happy birthday seaweed brain!" we all chant in unison with our fists in the air

#lay's love letter 𝜗𝜚 #percy jackson x reader #pjo #happy birthday perseus #hes such a messy eater i KNOW it #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #Spotify

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judebelle · 9 months

Note

trent being a clingy needy bf? xx

menace - t.a.a. x reader

a/n : i’m so fucked w finals season but it’s almost break for me 😇 just gotta make it thru this week 😞 also i made this a drabble SORRYYYY but i think this is better short and sweet!

cw : swearing, clingy trent obv, reader getting increasingly more annoyed throughout the course of the fic, sexual insinuation, fluff

pairing : trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

wc : 704

---

it started off as bearable, but god, as the day progressed, you couldn’t deal with him anymore.

the him being sir trent alexander arnold.

it had just so happened that you and trent had aligned a few days off at the same time. this was a rare occurrence since your busy schedules kept you swamped 25/8.

this was the first of many days off. you just needed to get some things done around the house, but trent had other plans.

you almost took up his many offers to just lay in bed all day, but you knew you would feel better if you got things done first.

of course, trent wasn’t making this easy on you.

“c’mere, beautiful,”

“please stay here, just for a few minutes.”

“so sleepy, just nap with me for an hour, please!”

you had to resist the urge to physically roll your eyes at his constant pestering. you had to put your foot down and stop him before you ended up giving in.

“no, trent! i have to finish some things up, i’ll be done soon.”

he was still cuddled up in the bed when you finally left the bedroom to head to the kitchen. you began putting away clean dishes and cleaning the counter tops. as you wiped it down, you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist.

“y/n come back to beddd~” trent whined while propping his head on your shoulder to get a better look at what you were doing that was so important. you could feel him kiss his teeth when he saw you cleaning.

“i said, wait. if you keep annoying. me, it’s just gonna take longer!” you groaned when he didn’t let go of your body. “trent, let go. i need to go get-“

“you look so sexy in these shorts, just come back to bed.” you felt his hands slide down to cup your ass.

you rolled your eyes, a smile forming on your cheeks. “you can’t seduce me into going back into bed!” you sing songed as you turned to face him. his arms had you trapped in between him and the counter. he still his droopy eyes and his hair was a little frizzy.

you swiftly ducked out of his grip from under his arm and headed to your office, turning on your computer to print a few things. you heard the soft shuffling of socks on the floor, and low and behold-

“can you just come back, pleaseee!”

“stop it! how old are you? just give me a few minutes.” you had started to whine like a two year old, his complaints giving you a headache.

you placed the papers down and pushed past him to go to the living room, cleaning up blankets and books laying around. you grabbed the watering can and started tending to your wilting plants. all of a sudden-

“ah- get off me! trent! let go, now!”

your feet were hovering over the floor thanks to your boyfriend who had had enough of waiting. he threw your body over his shoulder easily and walked towards the bedroom.

you kicked your legs around, trying to wriggle out of his grip. you slumped against him when your efforts to escape from his death trap went in vain.

“this isn’t funny, y’know?”

he chucked despite your comment. “i can’t wait any longer, sorry.”

a stubborn smile broke across your face before he threw you onto the bed. you bounced onto the fluffy mattress with a gasp. “trent!”

he giggled softly before throwing himself down on top of you. “oww, trent you’re not light!” you found yourself laughing as he kissed your neck.

“shhh, just wanna cuddle.” he reached over and pulled the duvet over the both of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he eventually let you breathe by rolling onto his side a little bit. you finally gave into his touch with a sigh, throwing your leg over his hips.

you reached your arms around his neck and nuzzled your head into his chest, his scent all over his wrinkled shirt.

“god, you’re a menace, you know that?” you laughed into his embrace and he responded by hugging you tighter.

“you love it.”

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fetusgooseandjuice · 9 months

Text

Trust Me

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)

Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!

You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.

Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.

Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.

When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.

After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.

You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?

‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.

But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.

Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.

You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.

The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.

Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.

You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.

The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.

As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.

“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.

You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”

She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”

You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.

“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.

You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.

Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.

“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”

Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.

“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.

For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.

“Since we left the states.” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”

You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.

“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”

Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.

“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.

“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”

You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.

The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.

“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”

You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.

“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”

“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”

“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.

“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.

“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”

Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.

“Nat, what are you—”

“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”

So you did.

Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.

You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.

“Nat, I don’t think—”

“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”

“I do, but—”

“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”

“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.

A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.

The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.

Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.

After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.

She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.

“Told you to trust me.”

~ end ~

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff mcu #natasha fanfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha alianovna romanova

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riddlesb1tch · 5 months

Text

All in Your Head

Azriel x reader

summary: You have been working late for the past month with Rhysand, leading to Azriel feeling neglected.

warnings: Azzie is a sad boy :(

“There is another place we can look, I think,” Rhys piped up after some minutes of silence. You two had been trying to track down the mask Nesta found at the bottom of the lake which seemed to have disappeared into thin air after the first sighting.

“Where?” you asked, sitting up in your air. You uncrossed your legs and leaned toward Rhysand, elbows resting on the table.

Rhysand scratched his chin in contemplation, then said, “We could try with the human queens maybe?”

The idea at first seemed absurd to you. What would humans want from a fae treasure? But given how power-hungry they had come off after the first time you met them, it seemed plausible that they would go to great extents to ensure the mask was in their possession should it ever come down to waging war against Prythian. Especially given what the mask could do: summon and control the dead.

Just as you went to answer, you were hit with a sudden wave of insecurity. You sucked in a harsh breath, eyes widening in shock before you felt the need to cry. However, the wave washed away before you could, leaving you confused.

Rhysand noticed your change in expression. “What's wrong?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. “I-I dont know,” you confessed. “I just felt this sudden rush of emotions.” Your eyes met him when a realisation struck you. Getting up from your seat, you collected your belongings from his office. Rhsyand looked at you confused and concerned. “What’s going on, Y/n?” he asked.

“I think something is wrong with Azriel,” you explained in a concerned tone. Standing by the door you asked, “Is it okay if we continue this meeting tomorrow?” You barely waited for his approval before rushing out the door and winnowing to the House of Wind.

Before your feet even hit the floor of the House of Wind, your eyes were scanning the house for any signs of Azriel. Weirdly enough, you found some. Weird because Azriel was a male of immaculate discipline. After a mission, he always took off his leathers and set them aside for cleaning. His weapons were always laid out in a line on the vanity so he could polish them the next day, so seeing his stuff thrown around the house was very concerning. His leathers lay on the floor haphazardly as if he took them off recklessly, his boots lay in the middle of the living room, and his daggers were thrown on the kitchen counter carelessly.

Furrowing your brows, you moved towards your bedroom. You couldn’t hear any sounds but the bond told you he was in there…and he was not okay.

The door was ajar and the scent of alcohol hit you as soon as your approached. His silhouette sat on the bed, flipping through some papers while a drained glass of alcohol, no doubt, rested next to him.

“Azzie?” you called.

He looked up from the pile and beamed at you.

“Y/n! You’re home! I wasnt expecting you for another few hours.” He set his papers aside and got off the bed to greet you. Somehow this bright behaviour concerned you further. It was so contradictory to what you’d felt down the bond earlier.

“I wasn’t expecting it either,” you said as Azriel wrapped you in a hug. You inhaled his scent, tinged very strongly with alcohol and realised he was completely intoxicated. His deameanour made sense now.

Pulling away, Azriel gently kissed your lips.

“Are you okay, baby?” you asked, running your hands over his arms.

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the bed.

You tossed your bag on the floor, letting him take you where he wanted. Azriel sat down on the edge of the bed and rested his hands on your hips while looking up at you.

“I missed you,” he admitted. The honesty and desperation in his eyes killed you.

Smiling sadly, you ran your hands through his hair. He leaned into your touch, kissing your palm.

“I missed you, too, love,” you said.

Suddenly Azriel’s expression changed and he looked almost annoyed. “You’re lying,” he stated.

You were taken aback by this. “No. Why would I lie about that?” you questioned.

“Cause you’re never here!” he yelled then plopped down on the bed face down. You sat down next to him, hand resting on his back and rubbing soothing circles.

“I’m busy with work, love,” you said gently.

He turned onto his back, making eye contact and took a hold of your hand. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry. I just miss my mate.”

“Well,” you threw off your shoes and put your legs up on the bed. “I’m here now!”

Azriel looked at you wearily but seeing the beaming smile on your face, the corners of his mouth quirked up. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tight. You giggled at the sudden, a sound that was music to Azriel’s ears that had been begging to hear it from you.

You and Azriel talked a long while, lazy kisses being pressed into each others skin occasially, before you fell asleep holding each other.

The next morning, Azriel laid on his stomach, arm stretched out beside him. His eyes opened slowly to the sunlight pouring into the room. The memories of last night came to him and a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. Azriel sat up and turned around, hoping to be greeted by your beautiful face.

However, the bed next to him was cold and empty. You’d left before he’d woken up again, and somehow, this hurt more than the other times. Azriel sighed, rolling out of bed to get ready for training with Cassian.

You sat down in Rhysand’s office for the millionth time this week. The same study you had been seeing every day for hours on end the past week, with the same stacks of papers on the desk, the same weathered, worn, look on Rhysand’s face, the same crumpled clothing on both your bodies, and the same mugs of the same stale coffee. Dread filled your chest thinking of the same conversation you two had had for the past week: locating the stupid mask Nesta got from the bottom of the lake. One of the Dead Troves, can call upon and control the dead. The thing had disappeared off the face of the planet and you and Rhysand had been searching all over Prythian and the human lands for the darned object for at least a month straight, all with no luck.

“I’m out of ideas,” Rhysand said in defeat, running a tired hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair.

You mimicked the movement, leaning back into your seat and sighing. “So am I. I haven’t a clue anymore where it could be.”

Rhysand faced the ceiling and closed his eyes. His chest slowly rose in a deep inhale and deflated, tired sound escaping his lips. You eyed the movements, feeling a wave of pity wash over you. Rhysnd had been attempting to locate the mask since the moment it disappeared. When he was unable to do so by himself, he had called on you. You, one of the most powerful fae, were born with the gift of detecting a magical object within a hundred feet of you. But if even you were having difficulty detecting it, there was barely any hope left.

Rhysand breathed slowly once more under your watchful gaze and this time you spoke up.

“Maybe,” you leaned forward and rested your elbows on your knees. “We should take a break for a bit,” you said.

Rhysand lowered his head to face you, looking as if he was about to protest but sighing in defeat at the pity in your eyes from his state. He nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You nodded with a slight smile and stood.

Rhysand watched as you gathered your things from around his study, then headed towards him.

“Sleep for a bit, okay?” you looked him in the eyes that looked a dull mauve instead of the vibrant violet, and so your tone was demanding rather than suggesting. He nodded. You leaned down and kissed the top of his head while he squeezed your hand.

“Bye, Y/n,” he spoke in a raspy voice.

Shutting the study door behind you, you winnowed to the House of Wind where your beautiful mate you hadn’t seen since this morning would be. Sleeping most likely, given the time, but your eyes craved to see his face regardless. Your ears longed for his voice, and your body yearned for his touch. Before last night, it had been a while since you had spoken, truly spoken to Azriel. Most of your interactions as of late were restricted to greetings and farewells: a simple “enjoy your breakfast” with a kiss on the cheek before you left the house and a “hi Azzie” whispered into the darkness of your bedroom with a kiss to the lips delivered to his slumbering form. As late as it was, you were selfish enough to wish Azriel wasn’t asleep.

Your shoes were quiet as they hit the marble flooring of the House of Wind. The living room was quiet, the only state you had known it to be in for the past month. A glass of whiskey sat half empty on the side table next to the sofa meaning Azriel had been drinking. Worry filled you instantly. You’d found something similar last night as well, and Azriel only drank alone when he was upset about something. You knew for a fact he had been alone because the rest of the IC members were busy dealing with their issues.

Tossing your things on the sofa, you headed to your shared bedroom. There wasn’t a sound coming from inside so you guessed he was asleep. However, once inside, you could see Azriel’s silhouette sitting on the bed's edge in the room's low light.

You nearly cried with happiness. You had missed him so dearly that you would kill for even a few minutes of simply being awake at the same time as him. Slowly, you headed towards your mate.

“How come you’re awake?” you asked while approaching and braced your hands on his shoulders. Normally, with this proximity, Azriel’s hands would have automatically found your waist, or, if he was feeling a bit mischievous, groped your ass. But when he did neither, your brows furrowed in concern. Your hands traveled down to his neck and you felt tension there.

He was stressed about something.

“Azriel?” you questioned, crouching down in front of him. “What's up, baby?” you asked softly, stroking his cheek with your knuckles.

His hazel eyes, dull and sad, moved to yours. Your heart broke at the pain they held and you felt the immediate need to fight the cause of this pain. He simply stared at you, unsaying, but a rush of insecurity and stress flooded the bond like a dam had been broken. You gasped from the intensity of the emotions, taking a second to stabilise yourself.

Once you had your bearings, one simple question remained in your head.

“Why?” you voiced. “What happened?”

“A-” he started and looked down. “Are we breaking up?” he asked in a broken voice.

You were taken aback by the question, brows raising at the sheer absurdity the statement held.

“What? No! Of course not!” you replied. Your hands tightly held his, squeezing in reassurance. “Why would you think that, sweetheart?”

He looked down at your hands that held his, thumbs stroking his with featherlight touches. “Lately you’ve been cancelling all our plans to work. And I know you’re busy, I understand that. But I guess, after a certain point it started feeling like it was partially because you didn't want to be around me,” Azriel hesitantly admitted.

If your heart was broken before, this confession just broke the broken pieces further. Suddenly it made sense what he was talking about last night about you lying about missing him. Still, you could not believe your ears. Yes, work had been stressful and had led you to cancel plans, but you hadn’t realised the extent…to the point where it started feeling like neglect to Azriel. You felt nothing short of appalled with your actions.

You looked down in disbelief, shaking your head. “Baby, I-” you looked back up to his face. “I am so sorry.” Tears flooded your eyes as you digested the extent of Azirels insecurity, and felt that loneliness down the bond.

“I am so sorry, Azriel,” you choked out. “I cannot believe I let it get this bad.” You sniffled. “But remember this Azriel: We are never, ever, ever, breaking up, okay? I love you so much! I know I have cancelled way too many plans lately, but I swear, darling, not a single one of those was because I didn't want to see you or be around you. There is nothing I wanted to do all day except be with you and talk to you and listen about your day, I swear, baby,” you ranted.

A small smile appeared on his lips and he pulled you up to sit next to him on the bed. “Really?” he asked.

“Really,” you assured, bringing his hands up and placing a firm kiss on them. “I love you, Azzie,” you whispered, resting your cheek on his hands.

“I love you,” he whispered back.

You got up from the bed and moved onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging Azirel close to you. It was a hug you both needed, assurance and intimacy you both craved in the moment. The bond on Azriel’s side was still open and you felt the insecurity dissipating, being replaced by assurance, security and relief.

You kissed the top of his head a few times, then tipped his face up towards yours and placed a firm, long-lasting kiss on his lips. Both of you sighed into it, holding onto each other a bit tighter and smiled brightly while letting go.

Masterlist

#azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fluff #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger x reader

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