#he will tell you to get some distance between you and him

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 5,115

Warning: cursing, apologies, fingering, handjobs, smut 🥹, fluff

A/N: Well everyone, we have one more part of this series. 🥲 But I plan on taking requests for our sweet, complicated couple! !! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

“You want what?” Satoru stared blankly at you, blinking ever so slowly like a cat. Your words seemed to have short-circuited his brain.

“I said I want a refund.” your tone is stoic, “I am not happy with the services I was provided.” Satoru’s shocked expression twists into a wide grin as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “High-end escort, my ass.”

Satoru laughs, throwing his head back as a faint flush grazes over his cheeks. “Yeah? Not happy at all, huh?” His eyes dance over your features.

“Nope! This jerk got up and left me after I paid him.” You shrug your shoulders dramatically. “Not only am I out an ungodly amount of money, but I’m also dateless for this wedding.”

“He sounds like a class-A-asshole.” Satoru’s hand gently reaches out, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah, he was.” His heart flutters at ‘was’ instead of ‘is,’ an ember of hope flickers to life in his chest. “Then again, he said sorry, and punched the hell out of my asshole ex, so I guess he isn’t that bad.”

Satoru’s fingers are so warm and gentle against your face. His thumb brushed over tear-stained cheeks as he pulled you in, closing the distance between you. His forehead presses gently against your own as he shuts his eyes.

“I’ll make sure you get every last cent back.” White lashes life, pools of breathtaking blue peek through them, meeting you. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Cool,” you sighed, leaning into his touch, “I would like to use that money to take a few pastry classes.”

God, hearing you say that makes Satoru’s heart leap with joy. “Money well spent, not that you need it. Your pastries are the absolute best.” your hand reaches up, gently holding Gojo’s firmly against your cheek, not allowing him to move. He swallows thickly at the regret forming in his throat. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“How long did it take you to figure out it wasn't me after you left?”

“Maybe an hour,” he scoffed, his breath hot against your lips, “I honestly have to give Suguru the credit. He knocked the sense into my head.”

“Thank God for Suguru.”

“Yeah, he called me a fucking idiot.”

“Well—.”

“I know, I was the biggest fuckin’ idiot.”

Silence washed through the room. It wasn't uncomfortable in the silence, reminding you of the first night you two spent together. Things had been so smooth and natural with him, and they still were. Satoru hadn't believed you at first. He said some fucked up shit, but he had apologized for them. He had told you himself that he wanted to make your relationship work.

Staying angry and pushing him away would be too easy. You could quickly write this off as another failed relationship. Or you could do one of the hardest things a person could do.

You could fight.

Fight for what could be a relationship that only comes once in a lifetime. Fight for a future. You could fight to see this through, to see where it took you both.

You sat back, sighing dramatically. “I guess I owe Suguru a drink when you introduce us.” Cerulean eyes were the size of peas as your words washed over Satoru.

“What?”

“Or maybe I’ll take him to lunch for his help.” Heart thundering, you did your best to keep cool, examining your nails boredly. “Or better yet, I could make us three dinner. I may be a professional baker who works with confectioners sugar, but my curry is to die for.”

“S-Sweetheart—”

You grabbed Satoru’s face, pulling him as close to you as possible. “Toru,” The man stiffened at the use of his nickname, “you said what we have is worth fighting for. That you want to be with me.” You inched closer to his face, your fingers brushing over his cheekbones.

“I did say that, and I meant every word.” He leaned into your touch, his hands caressing your bruising knuckles.

“Are you positive?”

“I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't.”

“How can you be so sure? How will we make this work when you're an escort?” Dread worked its way through your stomach, settling over your chest. “I—I don't think I could just wait at home for you to come back from work. But I also don't want to keep you from doing something you love. You do it to help people; it makes you happy. I don't want to take that away from you.”

From the mere silence, you weren't sure what was going through Satoru’s mind. He just stayed stoic, glancing over you with an unreadable expression. God, maybe this was something he didn't want to give up.

What felt like an eternity of silence ended as Satoru moved. Your hands fell onto your lap as he ran his hands over your upper arms in smooth, gentle strokes. You had been so uncertain of what he would say or do, how he would react to your hesitancy. The way his crystalline blue eyes burned with a fiery passion told you everything you needed to know without the use of words.

“Sweetheart, I would rather fight with you than take on another client.”

His words felt like they’d stolen your soul. Your bottom lip quivered just as a trembling sob had your body shaking. Satoru pulled you into his lap, toned arms wrapping around you as you straddled him. His large palm stroked the back of your head as your chest pressed firmly against his.

You tried not to cry, but the relief was too much. Soft sobs vibrated in your chest as your head buried itself deep into the crook of Satoru’s neck, your hot, joyful tears staining his shirt. Not once did Satoru attempt to move you. He did the opposite, pulling you tighter against him, his fingers curled into your hair, stroking your scalp as you sobbed.

Those few words meant the entire world to you. The doubts and fears eating away at you like moths on cloth ceased to exist. They were replaced with a swarm of multi-colored butterflies that flutter in your stomach and heart.

You could make this work.

Pulling away from Satoru’s neck, you reached up to wipe at your eyes, but Satoru gently batted your hands away. His thumbs brushed against your flushed skin, wiping away the tears of joy. His touch, much like his words, embodied his affection for you. That sweet gesture made you want to cry more, but you were confident that all the crying you'd done in the last eighteen hours had dried up your tear ducts.

“I want to make this work with you.” Satoru gently cupped the back of your head. “Thank you for giving me another chance.”

”Thank you for apologizing.” You gently ran your fingers over the fabric of his shirt. “And for punching Toji, it was so hot seeing you get all mad.”

Satoru held you tight, flopping down onto the futon with a chuckle. “You thought I was hot? Imagine me coming back to get my sunglasses with my tail between my legs to see kitchen utensils being flung through the kitchen.” He took his bottom lip between his teeth. “Seeing you going feral, slapping and kicking at a man twice your size, got me all hot and bothered.” He nuzzled your neck with a very phony bad prono moan. “I’d let you hit me all you want; just tell me I’m a good boy when you do.” His lips peppered kisses up your neck before pressing against the corner of your mouth, winning a series of giggles from you.

“Toru, you’re crazy.” Your words held no heat as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Mhmm, I’m crazy about you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair before you pulled him in, kissing him softly. The tension in his muscles relaxed as he kissed back. His smooth lips gently moved against yours. Maybe your lips tingle because of the taste of his mint toothpaste, or it could be the spark between you. Little fireworks exploded over your lips, deep in your chest, and even further between your legs.

The same embers that had burned hot and bright inside of you last night began to glow red hot with need. Your hands roamed down from his hair to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as you turned your head. Satoru’s eyes opened, focusing on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, how flushed your face and chest were, and the subtle way you rocked your hips up against him.

He pulled back, panting heavily against your slightly ajared mouth. “Sweetie.” He breathed out.

“Sorry,” you released him, “sorry.” Now might not be the right time to lose yourself into passion. But before you could spiral into your thoughts, Satoru followed your retreating hands, gently holding them.

”I don’t want you to stop.” He placed one of your hands back on his shirt, and you instantly grabbed a hold of the fabric. “Just be aware of the effect that you have on me.” He took your free hand, pressing it against his semi-hard cock that was twitching to life in his pants.

A sudden burst of confidence took over you. Licking your lips, you gently began stroking him while you gripped his shirt as tight as you could. Satoru shuddered, pressing both his hands on either side of your head caging you underneath him. A string of soft, murmured cries of your name slipped through his lips as he bucked into your hand.

”You’re twitching so hard.”

”Can’t help it, a beautiful woman is rubbing my cock.”

Releasing his shirt, you ran your hand over his arm, gently grabbing his wrist. He perked up, putting all his weight on his left hand as you gently led his other past your breasts, down your stomach, before you pressed him firmly over your clothed pussy. “I'm twitching, too.” Satoru’s cock throbbed hard underneath your palm. “You okay?” an aching growl rose in his throat as his fingers rubbed circles around your clit.

“Y-Yeah, I think I just almost came in my pants.”

“Over touching my pussy?”

“No, it's because of you.” Your hips jerked as he increased the pressure of his fingers. “You're so goddamn irresistible. I want to please you.” fingers rubbed faster, his lips trailing down your neck in open-mouthed kisses.”I want you to call out my name, to make you cum so hard you think you're about to ascend.”

“Oooh, oooh fuck.” Satoru sucked in a breath as you slid your hand into his boxers. “Toru~ Feels good.”

“Yeah, it d-does.” He choked out, sliding his hand under your panties. “Fuuck, you weren't kidding.” Thick long fingers ran over your clit, spreading your slick arousal over the tiny bundle of nerves. “You’re so wet.”

You shifted, facing him, “I wanna try something.” Satoru nodded, kissing you deeply as you both tugged your pants and underwear off, followed by shirts. Once you were bare, you slotted your hips over his legs, resting your legs on either side of him. “This way, I can kiss and touch you.” Your words cut off as Satoru slammed his lips against yours in a starved, searing kiss.

You kiss his back, moaning and gasping against his lips. He used the opportunity of you gasping to shove his tongue into your mouth. His tongue searched for yours, wrapping and massaging it with his own as his fingers groped your breasts. He still tasted like mint, and the smell of musk overwhelmed you as his fingers gently kneaded you. His hands are so warm and gentle against the softness of your breasts; it's a bold contrast to the way his mouth roughly moves against yours.

He’s devouring you, making you melt against his body. You wanted to make him feel the same way you did, warm and fuzzy. You desired for Satoru to be desperate, like a thirsty man dehydrated in the desert, and you were his oasis. Reaching between your bodies, you rubbed your fingers up and down your pussy, collecting your slick over them. Hering the pitch change in your voice, Satoru followed your hand. The instant he saw your pretty fingers rubbing yourself, he growled into your mouth before breaking the kiss.

”A-Are you that desperate for relief?” Satoru sighed heavily against your lips, tongue flicking out, licking at the drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “All you have to do is ask, and I’ll rub that perfect pussy~”

“I-I—oooh god,” you rubbed your clit in a short circle before dipping your hand back down, collecting more of your slick. “n-not doing it for my sake.”

”No?” Satoru nipped gently at your bottom lip, his hands massaging the fat of your ass, pulling you tighter against him. “Then please tell me whose sake you’re doing it for.”

”Yours.”

Before Satoru could ask what you meant, he jumped as you wrapped your slick fingers around his thick throbbing cock. His head falls back as you begin rubbing your hand up and down his shaft, jerking him off, using your slick as lube. Feeling the heat from your juices and hand had Satoru losing himself, just like you wanted. He melted, his hands shakily grabbed you in order to ground himself as you jerked your wrist up and down faster.

”Feels good,” He groaned out, his hand dipping between your legs, fingers finding your clit. “but it’s not fair if I’m the only one feeling good now.” The tiniest moan passes through your pursed lips; your eyes meet him as you try to focus on keeping your hand moving up and down over his cock. But damn, his hands were too talented, it was hard to keep up with him. “God, you’re so wet just for me. If it feels this amazing on my fingers,” His hand dips further, two of his fingers pressing their way past your tight entrance and into your dripping cunt. “I can’t imagine how good it feels to be buried inside you.”

His fingers curl, rubbing your spongy sweet spot. They massage it, not stopping as you cry out softly against his mouth, your eyes narrowing as you stare into his eyes. They were usually full of light, but with his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock, they were full of dark, desperate desire. If you were to move a certain way or make a single sound, he would be inside of you in the blink of an eye.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

His lips were on yours, his moans flooding inside your mouth as you teased the tip of his dick with your thumb. Rubbing the pre-cum beading at the slit around the red swollen tip. Satoru’s eyebrows furrowed at the intense pleasure, his thumb mimicking the same pattern and strokes of your hand against your twitching clit. It didn’t take long for you to start rocking your hips against his hand, chasing your orgasm. Noticing the way you greedily fucked yourself on his fingers, Satoru pulled back, watching your hips rolling against him, desperately chasing the high you felt coming.

”What a good girl you are, taking what you want, what you need. I fucking love that.” A deep sigh escaped him, his breath fanning against your lips. “I love it, watching you lose all fucking control, it gets me off.” His cock twitched in your hand, emphasizing his point. “If you make yourself cum hard, I promise you I’ll make you cum ten times harder on my dick.” Satoru feels your walls flutter around his fingers. “You like the idea of that? Your pretty cunt seems to, she’s squeezing around me.”

”Y-Yeah, I want you, Satoru, want to feel you inside of me so back.”

”Cum for me first, then I’ll be sure to give you everything you want.”

You press your lips messily over his. “You promise? Promise you’ll give me everything I want?” His forehead presses against yours, his bangs sticking against your sweet sheen skin. “Promise?” You whine out desperately.

”Sweetheart, I promise I’ll give you everything you want and then some.”

Those positive affirmations were all you needed to have you gushing over his fingers. You silently scream against his lips, eyes clenched tight as you rocked and roll your hips against him. Satoru takes note of how your lips quiver and the way your back arches, pressing your breasts against his bare chest. Noting the way you sounded, how pretty you looked when you shattered and trembled in his lap as your hand squeezed his dick almost too hard as you let the waves of your orgasm hit you one after another.

Watching you cum in his lap would be a memory he’d look back on on lonely nights. God, he wanted to cum with you, to paint your tummy white with his hot seed. But the urge to pin you underneath him, you fuck you slowly, was stronger. Satoru wanted to have you cum that hard around his cock. To watch as you lose yourself in pure bliss because you deserve to. God, you deserved more than that, but this would be a good start.

He fully intended to make you feel this good as long as you would allow him.

When you found the strength to open your eyes slowly, you caught a glimpse of blue. Satoru had you pushed back on the futon, his fingers sliding out of you. His lips gently roamed over your breasts, kissing the mounds before his hands forced your legs apart. “Please tell me you still have that party favor bag.” He breathed out over your skin.

”You seriously think I would throw my terrible cheap penis candy away?” Satoru chuckled, lifting his head to watch you snatch a pink bag lying off to the side of you. “You'd be right; I fully intend on throwing it away once we use the condoms.”

“I have to admit, knowing you won’t be eating penis candy makes me feel pretty good.” He opened the bag, pulling out the six condoms shoved inside of it.

“I’m not opposed to eating penis candy if it tastes good.” A white brow arches at you. “I mean, I sucked yours last night, didn’t I?” You smirk as he fumbles, nearly dropping the foil packages in his hand. “I clearly remember just how sweet you tasted. Although I may need a reminder soon to confirm.”

”Babe, please, you’re going to make me blow my load before I even get inside of you.”

You watch as he tosses the other condoms to the side before ripping open the gold foil of a magnum condom with his teeth. ”Oooh, right, yeah.” Swallowing hard, you gape when Satoru rolls the condom over his cock with ease.

He slowly pushed his hips against yours, grinding his cock over your entrance to your clit. “Do you remember what I said to you our first night here at the inn?” Your soft moans are music to his ears as he grinds against you faster. “After you told me why you didn’t need to have sex?” Right now wasn't the time you wanted to be quizzed over things he said four days ago.

“Haah, fuck—uhm, you said you hoped that I would be able to recover soon?” His cock head pressed firmly against your entrance. “Nggh, I—I can’t remember. It’s hard to think when you’re teasing me like this.”

” No, you’re right. I did say I hoped you would recover.” His tip pressed harder against you, making your legs shake. “But I also said I wanted you to be able to have the most mind-blowing sex of your life.” The world seemed to slow as the gentleness of his words had you blinking. “I never thought I would be the one you’d be with.”

Something about the softness of his voice and the way he lovingly brushed his thumb over your bottom lip had your heart racing. This moment felt surreal as you replayed that first night again in your head. How you had cried in front of the escort you had hired to be your wedding date. He could have easily pushed you away, cringed over your complicated past, or not given a shit.

Instead, he hugged you and stroked your hair as you cried. He listened to you and allowed you to vent. This man went as far as defending you, siding with you. Satoru had held you close, bringing a certain comfort to your life you'd never felt before. It was a perfect full circle.

“I wouldn't want to be with anyone but you, Toru.” Gently cupping his face in your hands, you pulled him down, kissing him as passionately as you could. The warmth of your touch and the brush of your lips against his own made Satoru swell with excitement before shifting into a calmness that worked through him. “I need you.” You gasped out against his swollen lips.

“Then you’ll have me.”

Not wanting to waste another moment, Satoru gently pushed the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. You gasped against his lips, eyes wide as he stretched you. His ab’s clenched as he held himself back, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, as his lips gently moved over your cheeks. Only when he felt your walls unclench and your legs wrap around did he begin pushing back inside of you.

Satoru couldn't get over how tight you felt wrapped around him, how warm you were. He'd slept with his fair share of people, but this, the feeling of slowly slipping inside of you for the first time, was a moment he'd never forget. From the way you smelt and how your hot breath tickled his ear. The sensation of your finger scratching gently over his undercut would forever linger because he didn't want this to be the first or last time he buried himself inside of you.

No, he wanted you to be the only person he was this intimate with again. He could easily see himself feeling this profound, this drunk off of joy and excitement each time you slept together. Satoru wanted to only hear his name on your tongue from now on.

While you couldn't read his mind or feel the emotions that course through every being of his soul, you felt the same way. Being with Satoru like this just felt right. No doubt, no uncertainty sat at the pit of your stomach. Just excitement and joy. Like you were walking a tightrope without the fear of falling.

This was perfection.

“Y-You're so tight.” Satoru choked out with a laugh as he pushed further inside of you with a whine. “Oooh, so fucking tight, baby.”

“Y-Yeah~ you're so big, really big.” Your breath chokes out as he slides deeper inside. “Haaa-haaah.” You dig your heels into his ass, pushing him further inside of your tight heat.

“N-Nnngh fuck, someone's getting impatient.”

“I can't help it, I-I want it, I want you so fucking bad.”

Satoru grunts softly, his tongue flicking over your bottom lip before hems slowly pulling out of you. “I want it too, baby.” He slowly slides back in, angling his hips to rub perfectly over that sweet spot inside of you. “And I’m going to give you exactly what you want.” His tongue gently slid past your slightly parted lips as he set a smooth and gentle pace.

You kiss back softly, flicking your tongue over his as his cock fucks you gently into the bedding. Your mind is reeling, taking over every one of your five senses, from his taste and smell. How his groans and grunts sound in your ears. You could feel his muscles twitching as his cock slowly bullied its way over your g-spot before pressing gently over your cervix. But it was the way he looked at you that genuinely had your heart stammering. Satoru was looking at you with a certain softness as his face contorted with pleasure.

You whimpered as he smiled, planting kisses down your neck, gently suckling at it. Satoru put all the emotions in his chest into those gentle, tender kisses. Savoring the way you jerked and squirmed as he gently fucked into your cunt. He suffocates on the delectable addictive air that was you. You take his breath away with every tear-filled glance into his eyes; every gasp and cry is music to his ears. So, of course, he’s lost his grip of control. Grabbing both your hands, he pinned them on either side of your head, his fingers interlacing with them as he moved at a faster pace.

“Ah—hah Toru,” you squeeze his hands, “Satorru~!” Crying out against Satoru’s mouth, you squeeze your thighs around him. Seeing you this fucked out of your mind as he fucked his thick cock deeper inside of you, only had Satoru moving faster.

“Ooh baby~ fuck~ fuuuuck~ you're getting close. I can feel it.” He grunts through gritted teeth. “You’re squeezing my cock just like you were squeezing my fingers.”

“Mmm yeah, M’ close Toru~!” You almost lose it as he grinds into you, his hips rubbing over your sensitive clit as his cock massages your sweet spots deep inside of you.

His grip on your hand tightens as he hisses, cock throbbing. “Oooh fuck, yeah baby, make a mess, make a fucking mess all over me.” One messy kiss followed by another. “Fuck~! Fuuuuck, I'm close too, gonna cum inside your tight hole~!” Nails dig into the back of his hands as your pussy clenched and twitches around him. “Yeah~ your pussy is so good~ telling me she likes what I’m saying. You want me to cum, yeah~?” Throw your head back, and you cry softly at the coil forming in your stomach.

“Y-Yeah wanna, wanna cum together~! Wanna—-ooooh god fuck me!” Satoru watched your eyes shut, tight eyebrows knitting together. He grinds his hips harder against your clit, buffs of deep growls leaving his mouth as his balls clench.

“Cum on my cock sweetheart~ yeah~ oooh fuck me yes!”

“Cu—” A scream of unfiltered ecstasy cuts off your words. Satoru watches you as you squirt over his crotch and the sheets beneath you both. “Ah!! Haaah!!”

Your trashing and shaking drives Satoru up the fucking wall. He frees your hands, gripping your hips, lifting them slightly so he can continuously fuck into your g-spot. Your legs shake aggressively as you fist the sheets. Your body was vibrating, eyes watering as you cum for a third time, watching as clear liquid soaks Satoru’s hips before you see white.

“Haa, fuck~ fuck~ fuck—” his head tips forward, watching his cock disappear inside of your convulsing pussy. “Cu-Cummin!” He bit out. “Cumming! Cumming!!” He doesn't scream like you, but he roars like a fucking beast. “Graahk! Fuuuck! Fuck!! Take it! Take all of my cum!”

You’re so sensitive it almost hurts to have Satoru thrusting himself inside you. He doesn't stop until his hips stop moving on their own, and the condom between you is filled to the brim. Only at that point does he gently pull out of you, grimacing as you wince in pained pleasure.

“Are you okay?” he gently asks as he takes the condom off, tying it to throw it in the trash can near the bed.

“I-I’m so good.” You drunkenly slur, but you haven't had a sip of alcohol. “Oh my god, I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my entire life.”

You could see Satoru swell with pride as he headed to the bathroom. “I guess my wish for you did come true.” You can hear the water running before he comes back. “How was the mind-blowing sex?”

“Confident in yourself?”

“I don't mean to come off as an arrogant ass.” He shrugs a shoulder as he drops to his knees gently, wiping your thighs and pussy clean with the warm rag in his hand. “But I'm ninety-five percent sure I saw your soul leave your body.”

“Okay! Okay!” You sputtered out a laugh as he wiped himself clean before lying beside you, pulling you into his side with a satisfied hum. “Okay, the mind-blowing sex was—” your eyes trailed up to his face, “well mind-blowing!”

“Ah~” he blows against his trimmed nails, “way to go, Satoru~” and rubs nails over his pectoral muscle.

“You dork!” you playfully smack his arm, “that was so uncool. Like the uncoolest thing to do.”

Satoru was beaming with joy as he cupped your cheek, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You sighed, missing him back roughly before pulling away with a happy hum. “Still uncool?”

“Super uncool.”

“Worth a shot.”

You lay there, tracing shapes over Satoru’s chest. “Hey, Toru?” you asked, turning your head to study his perfect face. You were surprised to see him watching you, his blue eyes tracing over the curves of your body, to the way your finger drew invisible hearts over him.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” You swore the man underneath you twisted faster than the speed of light. There was a certain glimmer of excitement in his eyes that had your heart fluttering like the butterflies in your stomach.

“Well, I did have this client, but I was dumb enough to cancel on them, so my Saturday is free!”

“Good,” you kissed the tip of his nose, “would you like to be my wedding date?”

“I would love to be your wedding date.”

Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@arminloverlol l @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe e @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart t @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira @faeryminnyx @tqd4455 5 @harmonyflora @volkins181-blog @noukstmblr @lovley212 @stinkinstuffie @desihopelessromantic @witchbybirth @sonicsolos @lilbiguy @supsiii @rentheannihilator r @bloopsstuff @pepepepepopopopo @pandoness @sw33cadav3r @rixo-19 @meguvmii @sxnkuna @mmeerraa @lemonintrovert01 @bunny-lily @kibananya @kamastar39 @rjreins @lzaj19 @tiredflame132 @manyno @oliiper @rengokushair @simp-plague @matchalatte06 @haesify @majanggeum @solarrexplosion N@tbzzluvr @username23345 @demonboyssss @sakui1

[theemporium]

♥️47 w/ Nico Hischier… please and thank you

this is inspired by the return of the moustache but fuelled by my brain being fried from uni so the smut is mediocre at best🤠thank you for requesting!

47. "You heard me. I want you to sit on my face."

.

To be perfectly candid, you were less than subtle about admiring your boyfriend’s new look for the off-season.

But, as his girlfriend, it was your right to helplessly ogle your boyfriend after he decided to shave the rest of his beard short and leave his moustache to be accompanied by some stubble. Add in the fact he had still put off cutting his hair—thank every fucking superior being for that one—and had a new glow about him since the stress of the hockey season was finally off his shoulders, it was impossible not to stare. 

He was just so pretty and he was all yours. And, yeah, you really fucking missed staring at Nico’s face with no practices or games or meetings getting in your way. 

It just never occurred to you that Nico would ever call you out on the blatant way you would ogle him since he brought back the moustache, which is why his words completely caught you off guard.

“What?” 

Nico grinned at you, so fucking smug and sure of himself as he placed his hands on his hips like you were talking about the weather. “You heard me,” he said, his voice low and sweet and far too fucking melodic for you to really concentrate on his ego when he sounded like that. “I want you to sit on my face.” 

You blinked, standing in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the joined ensuite bathroom. You stared at him, your mind whirling with a million different thoughts but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a single word. 

“Been thinking about it all week,” he continued as he started to close the distance between you, his eyes glinting with an emotion that made your stomach twist in desire. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking, baby. Tell me you haven’t thought about it too.” 

“I—” You stuttered out, your face burning in response. Because truthfully, you had been thinking about it. But your thoughts had been based around Nico pinning your hips to the mattress, to settle between your legs and to let you feel the scratch of his beard across your sensitive inner thighs until you were left begging and panting and whining for more.

It never crossed your mind for you to be the one on top.

“Just want my pretty girl on top of me,” Nico hummed as he reached for you, his large hands engulfing the back of your head and it made your brain short circuit for a few moments. “Let me have a taste, hm?” 

“Nico,” you murmured, and the hesitancy was clear in your voice. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”

He frowned. “Why not?” 

“I–” You let out a noise before shrugging. “What if I squish you or—”

You barely had a chance to react to the snort he let out before his hands dropped from your head, reaching for your thighs and lifting you into his arms with an ease that didn’t feel human at all. You blinked, left speechless as Nico shamelessly grinned up at you, walking back towards the bed with you in his arms.

“I can handle it, baby,” he said, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he emphasised his point. “Now, be a good girl and sit on my face, hm? Wanna fucking drown in you.”

And you really couldn’t be blamed for being unable to say no to those pretty brown eyes staring up at you like he wanted to devour you. You could, however, be blamed for that naive voice in the back of your mind that told you that you’d be in control because you were on top.

It took all of five minutes for that belief to crumble the second Nico got his hands on you. 

“Fuck,” you let out a high-pitched whine, head tipped back and lips parted as you felt his lips wrap around your clit and suck, humming deeply as he did. 

His arms were locked around your thighs, keeping you in position with his hands pawing your ass and guiding your rocking hips. His hair was dishevelled and messy, spread across the pillow like some twisted angelic painting whilst those pretty brown eyes were now glued to you, watching as he licked and sucked and kissed every single noise out of you. 

His chin and lips were glistening with your release, that moustache fucking soaked and his tongue branded with the taste of you—and fuck, Nico truly believed he was in heaven. Because that was the only reasonable explanation for this: for the sight of you on top, your hips rocking and your soaked cunt at his mercy, your hands squeezing your tits and your mouth moaning his name. 

It was fucking heaven and it made him rock hard in the flimsy shorts he had put on earlier, probably seconds away from busting a load despite not even touching himself once. 

His only coherent thought was that he should have shaved earlier if this was what he could gain from it. 

“Fuck, Nico, baby,” you stuttered out, all breathy and panting as you reached one hand down to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned against your cunt. “Shit, I-I can’t.”

“One more, schat,” he murmured, his warm breath fanned across your core and it made your legs twitch, and it made Nico smile against your cunt in response. “Please, baby, let me taste you. Let me taste my pretty girl.”

And you were fucking putty in his arms, letting yourself tip over the edge as you clung onto the headboard to keep yourself from keeling over. 

Yet, all he could think was that he definitely wasn’t getting rid of the moustache anytime soon.

.

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

Chapter Two: A Little More Touch Me

warnings: making out, mentions of death, trauma, heavy petting, premature ejaculation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you meet up with Kento once more and invite him to your dorm on the night that holiday break starts. after an intense game of Two Truths And A Lie, things get a little handsy. you eventually have to comfort him after he gets a little too excited. a/n: Chapter title is in reference to the song "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" by Fall Out Boy.

TAGLIST: @beneathstarryskies @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat @seireiteihellbutterfly @an-ever-angry-bi @namikyento @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82 @marikuchanxo @gennaray @markleeisdabestdrug

MDNI banners and Reblog for support banners by @\benkeibear <3

Masterlist

For a few weeks after the kiss, Nanami was avoiding you a little. He would say hi to you if you were to outright greet him, but he never really approached you. So you decided to give him a little room. You worried a little that maybe you had been too forward with him during that first hangout.

Your classes were going well. Slowly, you found yourself competing with Kento for the top spot in terms of grades. Your projects went well, and you even began to make friends. Things were going really smoothly. In a few more weeks, it was time for the first holiday leave of the semester. You were excited to go home.

Everything seemed to be going so well. You were thrilled at the prospect of having some time off to focus on spending time with your parents. Then the inevitable happened. They called to tell you they’d be staying somewhere else for the holiday.

So you were going to be stuck in your dorm for the holiday. You’d be alone. With your plans crushed, you decided to make the best of it. You’d be spending the majority of your time in the dorm, then maybe you’d try to go out and do a little shopping at some point. You wanted to make yourself feel a little better, even though you knew things would be bleak.

Everyone is getting ready to leave for the holiday, and you notice that only a handful of students are staying. One of them happens to be Nanami Kento. Your heart soars at the thought of spending even just a little time with him. Ever since that night, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind.

You approach him, a shy look on your face. Kento looks away, blushing a little. Then, when you’re face-to-face, he offers you a bashful smile.

“Staying here for the holiday?” you ask.

He nods, “Yeah. You?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but my folks are headed out on vacation. So I can’t go home.”

Nanami finds himself feeling sad for you. He knows what it’s like to not have a place to go for the holidays. He hasn’t talked to his parents in a long time. Ever since he attended Jujutsu Tech, he had managed to keep them at a safe distance. They had understood, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss them, and they didn’t miss him. Nanami just couldn’t find the courage to contact them after years of not talking to them.

“M-maybe we can keep each other company.”

Your heart skips a beat at his suggestion. You flash him the sweetest smile, nodding your head.

“I’d love that.”

Nanami scratches the back of his head nervously, “You busy right now?”

You shake your head, “Nope. Wanna come by my dorm? We can watch anime, get some take-out.”

Nanami smiles and he offers you his hand. For the first time in weeks, he was showing you that he still wanted to be around you. And you were enjoying every moment of being with him.

Once inside your dorm room, you and Kento decide to watch some anime together. Then you take the time to order a pizza, memorizing the toppings he enjoys. It’s like you two have been friends for ages instead of just a few weeks.

When the pizza gets there, you and Kento sit at the table. The topics of conversation seem to flow very easily between the two of you. But neither of you talk about the kissing. It’s something that seems to be a little taboo to mention right now.

Eventually, you suggest playing a little game to break the ice even more.

“Two truths and a lie. You tell three stories; two of them true and one of them a lie.”

Kento smirks. “Alright, I think I can enjoy this.”

You begin to think about what you’re going to tell him. This had been a game you had played in one of your clubs in high school. He seems to be thinking about it just as hard as you. Then you take another sip of your soda before you look at him.

“You first.” You offer, and he shakes his head.

“Not ready. You go first.”

You sigh but you smirk playfully. Then you scratch your chin, making a big show of considering it.

“Okay, so first, I used to work in a bank. It’s why I’m studying business and finance.”

Kento studies your features, “A bank, huh? Yeah okay…I could see it.”

“Secondly, my parents are high school sweethearts, and they had me very young. My mom was only nineteen when she gave birth to me.”

This makes Kento laugh: “High school sweethearts is the right term. Damn, nineteen?!”

You nod, “Yup! And lastly, I was in a commercial when I was a little baby.”

Kento considers all the things you’ve just said. He wants to almost believe you aren’t lying at all, but you don’t seem the type to lie about the game. He doesn’t know enough about you to truly figure out the lie, so he’s going to guess.

“I call bullshit on the last thing. There’s no way you were in a commercial.”

You laugh, “Nope! That’s not the lie. My parents weren’t high school sweethearts. They met in college.”

Kento’s eyes widened, “What commercial?!”

You go over to grab your laptop, and you pull up the video. It’s a commercial for baby food, and Kento finds himself so endeared by the way you were so cute then. Not to say you aren’t cute now, but it’s much different.

“You’re turn,” you say as you begin eating another piece of pizza. 

Kento considers it all very carefully. He knows that he has to keep his Jujutsu life under wraps, but maybe it couldn’t hurt for you to know a bit more about his past. He knows what he’s about to say might make you feel pity for him, and he doesn’t necessarily want to use it to his advantage, but he does want you to know more about him. Even the ugly parts need to be known.

“First, my star sign is Cancer. My birthday is July 3rd.”

You smile and say, “I can see it. You are moody and brooding.”

Kento frowns, “Hey! I’m not ‘moody’ nor am I ‘brooding’. I am just a loner…”

You reach over to squeeze his hand, “Sorry, please continue.”

Nanami looks over at you and sighs, “Blond isn’t my natural hair color. I dye it.”

“Oooh, rebellious. I like it.”

Then Nanami swallows hard. He had been considering this last one for a long time. He knows it could go sour. It could make him feel terrible to even speak about it. He looks at you and he feels his heart aching.

“My best friend died at seventeen.”

You nearly choke on your soda. Was this true? Surely that had to be the lie. You weren’t sure because you didn’t think his hair was dyed. So maybe his star sign was something else.

“W-what?” you manage to spit out.

Nanami looks down at his hands on his lap, “Which one is the lie? Isn’t that the game?”

You look away, your bottom lip trembling. This was starting to become serious. Because of the way he was acting and talking, you had to know that the third thing he said was the truth.

“D-did he really die? Your best friend?”

Nanami gasps at the way you just ignored the directives of the game. You looked inside of him, seeing his true emotions. You notice the quiver in his bottom lip. You watch as he wants to be completely swallowed up by the ground.

“H-he did. He died when he was seventeen.”

You don’t know what to say. How could someone go through something like that and continue on through life? You reach over and give his hand a careful squeeze.

“We can stop the game now,” you offer.

Kento nods shakily, “Probably for the best.”

After a few moments of silence, you get up to clean the kitchenette. Then you guide him over to the couch, wrapping him up in a blanket. Nanami feels the warmth coming from you. Something about these little actions is calming him down.

Then you both look at each other. There’s an electricity in the air, tinged with sadness. He reaches out for you, pulling you in closer. He holds you tightly, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’ve been my first friend since then.” He finally says: “Well, my first close friend since Yu.”

You blink away tears. “I’m here for you, Kento. I promise.”

He shudders in your embrace. He’s not sure what’s coming over him. A myriad of emotions seem to be attacking him, making him feel weak for you. Then he looks at you with tear-filled eyes. You slowly close the gap, kissing his lips so softly. Kento pushes himself closer, cupping your face.

“I’m sorry for dropping that bomb on you,” he whispers.

You smile sweetly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to talk to me about that stuff if you want to.”

Then Kento resumes kissing you. It’s less sloppy than the last time. You can tell he was taking his cues from you. This time, he seems confident enough to take the lead. His tongue glides against your bottom lip, and you gladly part them.

He lets out a cute moan when your tongues touch. You don’t know if he’s using this type of emotion and release to try and forget about the pain, but you won’t judge him for it. You’ll allow him to do this if it means he’ll feel better afterwards.

His hands begin to wander; he’s caressing you so tenderly and tentatively. You allow your hands to rest on his chest, gently rubbing. You begin to feel the physique that seems to be underneath all that dark clothing.

“You taste so good,” he says timidly when you pull away.

“Yeah? Not just like pizza?”

He chuckles. “Better than pizza.”

This causes you to kiss him deeply. You guide one of his hands to your breast, making him gasp. It’s so cute to know that he’s a complete virgin. You know you want to show him how to navigate this rocky road. You want to show him how to properly have a good time sexually. Your first time had been with someone more experienced than yourself, and they had taught you all the right things.

Then you feel his other hand join the first one, and he’s kneading your breasts. You pull away from the kiss to rest your forehead against his. You can tell he’s learned some of this from porn, and you place your own hands on his.

“Gentler,” you whisper. “Softer.”

“S-sorry…”

“Don’t be. You’re learning. You can take your time, we’re not in a rush.”

Kento feels a renewed sense of confidence. He uses your words of wisdom and goes slower and more gently. You begin to feel aroused, and you pant and moan at the way he’s massaging your tits. He’s going to become a natural in no time if you keep guiding him like this.

Suddenly, he pushes you back against the couch. You look up at him, and a smirk spreads on his face. He leans in to kiss you, laying his weight on top of you. It’s all so needy and a little desperate, but not unwanted. Kento kisses you with a heated passion.

“Mmmm, fuck you smell good.”

Just his words alone could make you melt into a puddle of mush. You don’t remember the last time you enjoyed a make-out session quite like this one. Nanami finally gains enough courage to begin grinding against you, and immediately you feel his erection against your thigh. Your eyes nearly bulge out when you feel just how thick his cock is.

“I want you so badly,” he whispers. 

“I want you too,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Let’s keep taking it slow, honey.”

Kento grunts softly as he grinds against you again. You move in tandem with him, enjoying the way this feels. Your body is heating up from the friction, and you can see the way there’s a dusting of pink on Kento’s cheeks and the tops of his ears from how aroused he is.

He’s trying to ignore the pleasure building in the pit of his tummy, and he’s certainly trying his best to ignore the way his balls are drawing up so fast. Nothing could ruin this moment for him. He’s whimpering and moaning your name as you two continue kissing in a hungry way and moving your bodies in the most perfect way.

“I—I—hnng fuck this feels so good,”

You nod your head, moaning his name as you grind against him a little harder. Kento whines as his cock begins to throb, and he’s squeezing his eyes shut to hold off the inevitable. A few more thrusts from your hips and he’s a goner.

“Shit! W-wait, I—”

He cries out as he begins to cum. Shot after shot of his cum begins to fill the front of his boxers. His hips stutter and he’s got the sexiest ‘O’ face you’ve ever seen. His cheeks are still a little pink as he slowly comes down from the high.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He curses as he gets up.

You’re quick to get up and you gather him up in your arms. You press the softest kiss to his lips.

“Listen to me, Ken. I’m not mad.”

He’s relieved to hear your words, but he’s still so fucking mortified. He wants to leave. He can’t bring himself to look into your eyes right now. 

“I’m not mad. It can happen to anyone. If anything, I am so flattered.”

Kento scoffs, “Shut up. It’s embarrassing.”

You kiss him again, “Baby, it’s okay.”

You offer him something to get changed into, and he finally relents and agrees to it. You find some baggy sweatpants in your room and you hand them to him along with a washcloth. He scurries to the bathroom, cursing himself.

You sit on the couch, adjusting the pillows and blankets to make a cute little cuddle pile. Then you grab some water and wait for him to return. Kento eventually does return to you after cleaning himself up and changing. And of course, a lengthy pep talk in the mirror.

He sits next to you, leaving some space. You hand him the bottle of water. He takes a few sips and then places the bottle down on the coffee table. You slowly scooch over towards him, smiling sweetly. Then you take his hand in yours, and he doesn’t pull away.

“Stay the night? We can snuggle and watch anime.”

Kento laughs, “Alright, alright. I’ll stay.”

You rest your head on his shoulder. You have so many questions to ask him, but for right now, you just want to bask in this feeling. Kento rests his head on yours, thankful for the silence.

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 11

Summary: You come down with a bad case of some type of sickness. You feel like death, but Cooper has always thought that the common cold made people dramatic.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings: none really? Fluff and kissing.

Masterlist

Cooper sighs quietly when he hears you sneeze for the upteenth time today. A rare storm had blown in a couple of days ago, and the two of you, plus Dusty, had gotten trapped in the pouring rain. The deathclaw, now eye level with you, had loved the water dripping down his hot scales, and even Cooper had tilted his face up toward the dark clouds. But you? You hated the rain and have been miserable ever since the storm.

"Coop. We gotta stop somewhere," you say, and even the ghoul has to admit that you do sounds like shit. He comes to a stop, and you stumble into him, having not been paying attention. Dusty makes some concerned grunts, but Cooper waves the beast away with a roll of his eyes.

"Baby girl, we still have three more miles 'fore we reach Goodsprings. We can rest when we get there," Cooper told her and curled an arm around your waist, casting his eyes away from the furious pout you sent him.

You sigh loudly, and the harsh breath sends you into a coughing fit when it tickles your throat. Cooper rubs your back as you hack and spit up some nasty mucas, a low groan escaping you as your body aches from whatever sickness that's taken hold of you.

The next three miles feel like hell, but the ghoul gets you to Goodsprings before you pass out in the desert. Dusty takes off to go hunt, and the two of you end up cooped up in one of the old houses on the edge of town. You shiver and clutch the thin blanket closer to your body, shaking from the chill that won't leave your bones.

Cooper eyes you, hip cocked, "Do you really feel that bad, Sugar?"

You glare at him from the middle of your blanket cocoon, "I feel like I'm dying."

He scoffs at you and closes the distance between the two of you and shrugs out of his ratty duster before he plops on the couch beside you. Cooper opens his arms and waits for you to scramble into them, his chin resting on top of your head and his arms curling tight around your blanket cocoon.

"Poor, pitiful girl," Cooper coos, and you pout at the teasing tone in his voice. It wasn't your fault that the ghoul couldn't get sick, and you could.

Over the next couple of days, Cooper does his best to take care of his poor trader. You moan and groan, a big achy mess, but you always make sure to tell your ghoul how much you appreciate him taking care of you.

"You're the best nurse ever, Coop," you rasp when he hands you a bottle of cooled purified water. The ghoul rolls his eyes at his sickly smoothskin and runs his fingers through your hair.

"Only for you, Darlin'," Cooper drawls and leans down to kiss you softly. You were a handful, but you were his handful.

[hxnbi]

❀ not so secret — inumaki toge

synopsis: you and toge were having a secret rendezvous, far away from all the others, or so you both thought

tags: fluff, gn reader

word count: 1.4k

“Look at him… He’s infatuated....” 

Maki sighed, rolling her eyes at the scene happening around the corner between you and Toge—that is, if she could even see anything, as Panda was practically blocking her vision. 

Just peering from the bushes she and Panda were hiding from, they could see you two—very explicitly, she might mention, holding hands.

She knew something was afoot when Toge grabbed you by the hand the second you finished your dinner and dragged you somewhere, unbeknownst to her. Their curiosity was piqued, only for the two to find you two, alone, sitting together on a bench, enjoying each other's company in the moonlight.

Or so you two thought.

Cue having Maki and Panda staring at you two with wide-eyed eyes and curious spirits. Well, for Panda, anyway.

Now, they were a reasonable distance away—enough to see you two together but not enough to hear a word, and neither could you guys. 

Maki squinted her eyes, trying to decipher what exactly was going on between you and Toge through the dense and overgrown foliage that was Panda’s ass. 

Your silhouette was barely discernible against all the bushes blocking her view and the dimming twilight in the sky, but the subtle gestures and hushed whispers from both your and Toge’s figures spoke volumes. 

Maki leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued despite her initial reluctance. She could not lie. Seeing Toge this intimate with someone was somewhat unexpected, unsettling even. “...Don’t you think that Toge’s demeanour is a lot more, different? We’ve never seen this before from him,” she noted, squinting her eyes at the bench you both were still sitting on, now laughing.

“Shush Maki! We’re getting to the good part!”

Maki sweatdropped at how invested Panda was. At this rate, she may as well think that Panda was also included in your guys’ relationship. “Good part, my ass. The hell are we even stalking them for?”

“For reconnaissance,” Panda replied matter-of-factly.

“Well, yeah. They’re definitely close,” she shrugged begrudgingly, her voice hardly even audible. After all, they were stalking you two from behind the bushes. “But dating? I’m not so sure.”

“What else could it be? Look at the way they’re leaning towards each other like they’re sharing some big secret!” Panda leaned his body forward eagerly, eyes wide with excitement. He appeared to be more invested than Maki was, as if this were all some kind of romance drama in real-time.  

But Maki, ever being the voice of reason, remained skeptical, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. “Maybe they’re just friends?” she clicked her tongue sarcastically, still in a whisper. “Ever heard of that? We can’t jump to conclusions based on a few stolen glances.”

But the Panda was undeterred. “I doubt it. I believe that there’s definitely something more. I can feel it in my bones!”

“You’re being delusional.”

“Hello, everyone~!” a voice suddenly interrupted their conversation, startling them into silence. 

‘Oh god…’ 

“It’s your good-looking teacher, Gojo Satoru, here to— What are you both doing, hunched down in the bushes like that? Oh no! Don’t tell me you’re now homeless!”

Maki shot her teacher a withering glare, her patience wearing thin with each passing moment.

“Now, what are you doing here, huh, Satoru?”

“So cruel!” he cried out mockingly, but his trademark arrogance and his shit-eating, mischievous grin were on full display. "I was just thinking of checking in on my favourite students, of course. But it seems like I've stumbled upon something much more interesting."

‘...Ugh.’

That’s it. All hope was lost. A lack of privacy did not exist. Not in Jujutsu Tech, where the most unlikely of people—or animals, for that matter—were always watching.

“Honestly, I didn’t think I’d see them here alone again since the last time,” Gojo hummed.

“They’ve been meeting here in this exact spot for the last four days now,” Maki noted. “You think theres something going on that we don’t know about?”

“Well, of course!” Panda said a matter of factly. “Isn’t it clear that they're dating?”

All eyeballs shifted to the scene where they saw Toge holding your hand close to his face, and you leaned on his shoulder. The intimacy between you two was evident even from a distance from where they were watching.

Toge’s fingers brushed past yours before grabbing them firmly, your fingers intertwining with his. Toge's gaze met yours, and a soft smile graced both your lips. A silent exchange of warmth without an onigiri ingredient was said from Toge in sight.

“Oh shit! They’re getting handsy!” Gojo gasped, seeing this happen first-hand. 

“Be quiet,” Maki hissed. “You’re loud-ass is going to get us caught.”

“That's right. We’re just getting to the good part!” Panda added with a playful smirk, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle before them. It was comedic, really. 

Maki sighed. There really was no reasoning with those idiots…

Gojo bent over to Maki and Panda. “So, are we just waiting for them to make out?”

A tick mark appeared on Maki and Panda’s faces. ‘This guy…’

Just as they were spying on you two, Panda’s hefty weight, along with the shock of Gojo’s surprise appearance, poured over the scene. But their attempt at stealth was quickly foiled as they toppled over each other like a cascade of dominoes, making a loud noise, something that you two very much picked up on in this seemingly quiet space. 

Caught off guard, you and Toge stood up and turned towards the commotion, eyebrows raised in surprise, eyes and ears attuned to the noise that had just come unexpectedly from behind where you once sat.

“What the—”

Maki began to sweat. ‘Just great.’

You and Toge, now standing before the toppled mound of bodies, exchanged a puzzled glance, eyebrows raised in surprise, only to be quickly replaced by amusement at the spectacle unfolding before your eyes. 

“Salmon salmon.”

“Huh? Maki, Panda, and— Gojo too!?”

Everyone’s necks turned, only to see you and Toge standing before them, holding hands. You and Toge exchanged knowing glances. 

“Ahem…” your eyes flushed in embarrassment, your voice faltering as your hand remained enlaced with Toge’s, glued to the moment. “Did you… see everything?” 

Caught red-handed, their faces flushed with embarrassment. Well, Maki, mostly. Panda and Gojo could not give a single damn; they were more interested in the fact that you were there.

Finally, they asked the burning question, "Are you and Toge dating?"

They exchanged looks filled with curiosity and anticipation, making you sweat. Their gazes shifted between you and Toge, practically demanding an answer from either of you, clearly not willing to take no for an answer. 

There was silence, right before… 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, we are.”

“WHAT?!”

“I was right!” Panda started dancing around.

With a tilt of your head, you turned to face the pale blonde, who blinked at you, all with the innocent expression he always had. 

“Toge, I thought you said you were going to tell them?”

“Tuna.”

The boy gave you a sheepish expression, Toge’s small muffles speaking through the layered shirt he always wore. You inhaled deeply and continued to hold his hand, tightening your grip. “Don’t worry. I could never get mad at you, Toge. Like, come on, just look at the expressions on their faces. The poor souls.”

‘Huh…?’

Toge's gaze softened at your words as he nodded in agreement. "Salmon roe.”

His expression said it all. It was one of adoration, to be able to hold your hand and spend time with you, that brought him immeasurable joy in his quiet world. One that the others hardly ever saw in the pale-haired boy let alone a mere smile, all but hidden away under his mask, quite literally. 

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his choice of words. You rubbed at his straightened, pale hair, utterly oblivious to the incredulous stares of Maki, Panda, and Gojo. "Yes, yes, salmon roe," you replied with a wide grin of your own, feeling a warmth spread fruitfully in your chest as if the three were mere background props in your own quirky sitcom.

As for the second years? Well…

‘If this supposed to be romantic…?’ they all sweatdropped.

Heaven forbid the words of onigiri ingredients could ever be considered “romantic.”

“Are we… interrupting something personal here?” Panda neared closer to Maki, whispering in her ear, only to receive a punch right in the gullet.

“So, were we the first to learn about your relationship?” Panda sparkled as if they weren’t just interrupting a moment of yours a moment ago, or even that he was just punched. Having a puppy body has its advantages, perhaps.

“Oh,” you blinked. “No. It was Ijichi, actually, a few days ago.”

“SO YOU BOTH WERE GETTING HANDSY!” 

“Not really. He walked into the classroom while me and Toge were in the middle of-”

“I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! YOU TWO REALLY WERE MAKING OUT!”

“That’s not it either…”

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[dangerpronebuddie]

Instead of writing my finals, I wrote this. Based on this post from @chronicowboy

Maddie bolts out the door, Hen close behind, the Buckleys already on their way to inform the guests of the… delay, leaving Buck and Eddie standing there like lost NPCs. To be honest, Buck feels like one. His head is still pounding so much he can’t hold a rational thought for more than a moment. His movements are still sluggish, each gesture enough to make him feel like he’s back on that sinking cruise ship. Eddie scrubs his hands over his face and lets out a noise that’s half sigh, half groan. “We are never doing that again, right?” “Never,” Buck agrees. He looks at his best friend, really looks at him, for the first time since finding him in the empty hot tub. His suit is completely ruined. Stains and tears and wrinkles tell a story Buck only half remembers. Somewhere between karaoke and the fifth bottle of champagne, Eddie’s shirt got ripped to shreds. Why? Buck doesn’t know. He’d never complain, don’t get him wrong. The suit jacket only covers so much, leaving Eddie’s chest bare and enticing. But… The collar is the only remaining piece of fabric from the shirt. Buck can’t help but wonder if there’s some kind of irony, or deeper meaning behind it still being buttoned around Eddie's neck. Last night was the first night since they met that Eddie actually let loose. His smile and his entire being was so free and beautiful, even in the little moments Buck hardly recalls. And yet that collar remained through the whole night, keeping him captive. His captor? Himself. “C’mere,” Buck says, a little too soft, a little too fond. “What?” Eddie steps closer despite his confusion. Buck reaches up to unbutton the collar. His knuckles brush Eddie’s throat. He feels the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows. Buck looks into his eyes as he unbuttons the fabric. Eddie’s pupils are blown wide, keeping Buck from looking away. He slowly pulls the collar from around his neck and folds it up before tucking it into the pocket of Eddie’s jacket. He smooths his hand over it, feeling the rapid thump of Eddie’s heart beneath his palm. “Buck,” Eddie whispers, still looking into his eyes. They’ve drifted closer in the short time they’ve been standing there. So close Eddie has to look up at him. Buck takes him in- his mussed hair, his wide eyes, his plush pink lips. Lips Buck knows he caught himself staring at most of the night. “Eds.” Buck trails his fingers down the lapel of his jacket. Echoing footsteps cause Buck to step back, probably more than a respectable distance away. He feels cold suddenly, his heart faltering in its too fast rhythm. Hen appears in the doorway, still looking a little pissed. “What’s holding you up? You lost him, you help find him!” Buck and Eddie share a look before following Hen.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 29, Unarmed, Redux - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of violence, death, talking about feelings, finally being honest and getting shit out there.

Word Count: 2.1k

Previously On...: Tony filled you in on what's happened since your showdown with Carthage.

A/N: Send in the Barnes!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Doll.” Your eyes shot open at the sound of Bucky’s husky whisper. He stood in the doorway, staring at you like he was seeing a ghost. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore when he’d rescued you– covered in dried blood, both yours and the Hydra agents he’d taken down. His right eye was a riot of black and blue bruises, nearly swollen shut, his lip cut.

“Hey, soldier,” you said softly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I’m surprised you wanted to see me at all, doll,” he said forlornly. “After everything I put you through, I’d be done with me if I were you.”

You offered him a soft half-smile. “Come here,” you said, using your good arm to pat the space on the bed next to you.

Bucky looked between you and the spot you indicated with confusion, as if he weren’t sure he’d heard your offer correctly. But he walked over to you like a man condemned, and you wondered briefly if he expected you to tell him you were well and truly done with him now. As if you could ever be. You were pretty positive by now that, in spite of everything, you truly couldn’t live without him.

Gently, so as not to jostle you, Bucky sat down on the bed, though making sure not to touch you. You weren’t going to have any of that, though, so you reached across with your good arm and tugged him toward you until he was snug against your left shoulder. It hurt a little bit, but it was worth it to have him close.

Bucky looked down at where your left arm should have been, tucked underneath your hospital gown and hidden from view, as it was, in its sling. “I see you’ve come unarmed, doll.” He offered a weak smile.

You threw your head back and laughed, and it felt so good to feel good in his presence again. “You got jokes, Barnes,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Speaking of jokes, what the fuck happened to your face?”

Bucky raised a hand to his face, gently poking at the swollen tissue. “Little gift from Stark,” he said. “For everything I put you through. Can’t say I didn’t earn it.”

You frowned, moving your hand up to gently caress his cheek. “He shouldn’t have done that,” you told him softly. Bucky looked down at you. “I deserved it, doll. I deserved that and so much worse, for everything I did to you. You almost died– fuck, you did die, and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let Carthage think there could be something between us, if I hadn’t led her on, none of this would have happened. You never would have gotten hurt, never had your heart broken. We’d be getting ready for our baby, and I wouldn’t have betrayed you over and over again–”

“Baby,” you said, putting your hand gently to his lips so as not to disturb the cut, “Stop. I’m not saying you’re blameless, but it’s not all entirely your fault, either. Carthage… Carthage had a mission, same as Soldat had missions. Maybe she wasn’t wiped the way you were, still had some control over her own mind, but she was programmed to want to get you just as surely as Soldat was programmed to kill. She would have come for me, no matter what, because I was an obstacle to that mission. It wouldn’t have mattered, I don’t think, if you had never spoken to her. I was always going to be in her way.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t hurt you, though. In so many horrible ways.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, each lost in your own thoughts.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked eventually, gently petting your hair. “And I mean mentally, not physically.”

You sighed. “Everything happened so quickly, you know?” Bucky hummed in agreement. “It was like: Boom! Chloe died! Boom! Lost a baby, almost died! Boom! Kidnapped, beaten up! Boom! Shot, almost died! It all still feels like it happened to someone else, and I haven’t really had a chance to let myself feel it, you know?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, I get it. But when it does hit, it’s going to hit hard, I think.”

“Probably,” you agreed. “I think I need to find a new therapist that’s not an A.I.” you told him. “Not that Tony’s program isn’t great– I just… Did you know Carthage hacked into my session feeds?”

Bucky’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Fuck. Doll, that’s an awful violation of your privacy. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s… she… she took what she learned about me from my sessions, and she used them to manipulate you, to hurt us,” you told him.

Bucky tensed beside you. “What do you mean?”

“Her ‘advice’ to you?” you said. “About what she liked in bed, to spice up our relationship?” Bucky nodded slowly, and you could tell he was ashamed with himself at the memory. “Well, she tailored it specifically with what she knew would be most upsetting to me, what would hurt me the most, so I would be angry at you, be the most hurt by you.”

Bucky swallowed, and you noticed his fists clenching next to you. “And I played right into it,” he said, shaking his head. He was furious; at both Carthage and himself, you could see that. “I was so fucking stupid; I didn’t see what she truly was until it was too late, and I let her play me like a fiddle.”

“You wanted a friend who understood you,” you said. Yes, you were still hurt by everything that he’d done, and you probably would be for a long, long time, but the truth of it was, now that you’d seen what Carthage truly was, had witnessed the depths of her manipulation of him, your anger toward him had significantly abated. Maybe you were being foolish. Stupid, naive. Maybe you were making all the wrong decisions, but your heart was always going to pull you back to Bucky Barnes. He was a gravitational force you just couldn’t escape. 

“I had friends,” Bucky argued softly. “I have you, and Steve, and fucking Big Bird. I didn’t need her. Why did I think I needed her, Pocket?”

You shrugged, taking his hand in yours. “Hydra had you for 70 years,” you told him, “and during that entire time, you were alone. Surrounded by people, but you were all alone. It makes sense that you would seek out someone who, based on what we all thought we knew about her, had been through something similar. I mean, how could any of us understand, really, what sort of horrors you’d gone through, when you don’t even understand all of them, yourself?

“She came packaged as this perfect counterpoint to you. And we know she was trained– educated, basically, in how to get to you. She basically had a Master’s degree in Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky snorted. “It’s still not an excuse for my actions, doll,” he said.

“No,” you began carefully, “it’s not. But it’s a mitigating factor that will be used in determining your sentence,” you said with a small smile.

“Have to say, sweets, I’d been fully expecting a life sentence of you never speaking to me again.”

“Yeah, that was what the jury was initially thinking, but upon further review of the evidence, they may be willing to bring it down to time served and supervised probation going forward.”

He looked at you, eyes blazing with hope, but almost instantly, his face fell. “Doll, how can you say that? I fucking slept with her! How can you still want to be with me after that?”

You sat up a little straighter, slowly this time, so as not to disturb your injuries. “Did you know Jade recorded the two of you?” you asked him carefully. “In the Russian safehouse?”

Bucky went pale and moved away from you. “No,” he whispered. “No, I didn’t know that. Oh God, Pocket– did she… did she make you watch it?”

You nodded, and Bucky put his head in his hands. “Oh, fuck. Doll. I am so sorry. I never wanted you to see that. It was bad enough that it happened, but for you to have had to witness it–”

“Buck,” you pulled his hands away from his face. “Buck, it’s okay. I’m glad I saw it, actually.”

Bucky looked at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What?!” he asked. “How… how can you be glad?! I cheated on you, I broke your trust– again! How can that make you anything but disgusted with me?”

“Okay, let’s take this one step at a time,” you said, repositioning your hands so you could interlock your fingers with his. “First of all, it wasn’t cheating. We technically weren’t together, so you could have slept with whomever you wanted to. I don’t love that it was her, but we weren’t committed.”

“It felt like cheating,” Bucky bemoaned. “I hated myself the entire time.”

“I appreciate that,” you said. “But you need to know that, while I did hate that you slept with her, I would have gotten over that, eventually. That wasn’t what I was upset about, after.” 

“It was the lying and not telling you what happened after I got back,” Bucky offered, and you nodded. “I didn’t get your messages about the articles until after I’d done it,” he said. “And I felt like the biggest fucking idiot. Of course you never would have done that to me. You’ve always been too good for me. I think I was projecting my own guilt onto you, and that was so fucked up of me. I was so scared of losing you when you were willing to give me another chance, I just ended up pushing you further away.”

“It doesn’t help that you had a snake whispering in your ear,” you said. When he looked at you, confused, you continued: “I’m not absolving you of all guilt, because you still had autonomy; you still made your own decisions, but I saw how she fed into your insecurities, in the video. How she played up your fears, and used them to manipulate you. How she took your anger and disappointment and used it to her advantage. I also saw how you had to think about me in order to get it up for her,” you added with a smirk.

Bucky blushed. “Caught that, did you? I don’t think Carthage did; though I wasn’t trying to be subtle about it, to be honest.”

“No,” you said with a smile. “She didn’t catch it, and she most certainly wasn’t happy when I pointed it out to her. Was quite pissed when I laughed about it to her face.”

“Oh God,” said Bucky. “That must have infuriated her.”

“How’d you think I got the broken arm?” you asked cheekily. 

“That fucking bitch,” Bucky hissed between clenched teeth. 

“It was worth it,” you assured him. “She took your pain at what you thought I’d done, and she twisted it, made you a victim. I’d break all my bones if it meant she paid for what she did to you.”

“I don’t understand how you can be so forgiving about all of this,” he said.

You snorted. “Would you rather I just cut you out of my life forever?”

“No!” Bucky looked up at you, alarmed. “Never– I just… I just don’t understand how you can be so… okay about it, after everything.”

You shrugged. “Well, I did die; certain things seem trivial, now. Maybe I’ve got, like, ancient death wisdom or something.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Not funny,” he said, tugging you gently to him. “I’ve never been more scared in my life than I was when I thought I lost you.”

“I know,” you hummed. “You snapped Carthage’s neck.”

Bucky flinched. “I wish I could say I’m sorry I did that, but I’m not. I know I swore off killing a long time ago… but when it was you in danger? I don’t have any regrets. I’d do it again, even if it makes me the fucking monster everyone says I am.” 

“Thank you,” you said to him. 

“For what?” he asked. “Killing her?”

“For choosing me over her. When it really mattered.”

“Figured it was about time I started showin’ you I meant it, doll,” he said with a sad smile.

“And for what it’s worth,” you added, “I don’t think you’re a monster. I think you slayed one, and as far as I’m concerned, that makes you my hero.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[waywardcrow]

I’m back!!! Kind of 😅. I loved this request and this is my first Natasha fic so I loved it more, this was written very quick so please excuse any mistakes.

You felt out of place, you probably should go back to your lab and forget all about this but you couldn't. Natasha came back after a month long mission and you missed her, besides she looked different.

It was hard to tell what was it but for some reason you knew, something was off.

After making a quick stop in the kitchen, you went straight to Nat's office, knocking the door softly but it was too late, you saw her wipe her eyes.

"I- hi, I, sorry" you mumbled, embarassment for you and concern for her twisting your stomach "I brought you hot chocolate"

The readhead spy cleared her throat, taking control of her features and just like that, all the vulnerability vanished.

"Thanks, sweetheart"

She took the cup in her pale hands and it was very hard to don't get close to her to give her a hug.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course" her answer, fast and short, made you wince.

"The mission-" you started but Natasha got up from the chair, avoiding your gaze.

"I have to go" she said, taking her things to leave you there, feeling like an idiot.

A few days after that, you still felt bad. Who did you think you were? Going to the Natasha Romanoff and act like you were friends? Sure, she was nice to you every time she came to the lab to visit Tony but that was it, you were the one who had a hopeless crush on her and now she probably would never speak to you again.

"You should go home, cricket" your boss reminded you.

"Say the pot to the kettle or whatever"

Tony laughed at your sleep deprived response but when he was about to say something else, he saw a certain someone in the door.

"You know what, you are right, night cricket"

And he left, making sure you were busy with your notes and sending a wink to Natasha.

"You should listen to him" were the first words the readhead said, making you yell "didn't mean to scare you, sweetheart"

"No, I'm fine, I just didn't hear you come in"

Taking in her appareance, your anxiety rocketed. Nat was wearing one of your favorite hoodies and leggins, her hair braided to keep it out of the way. She looked beautiful as always but it was almost like she was ready to run away at any moment.

"I wanted to check on you, I haven't see you in a couple days"

Turning in your seat to see her better, you took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, for the other day. I didn't want to intrude" you started but Nat closed the distance between you two.

"Please don't apologize, sweetheart" she sat on your desk, making your heart beat out of tune "you did nothing wrong"

"I- I saw you crying" you mentally slapped yourself after the words left your mouth, what the hell was happening go you?

Natasha pursed her lips and in that moment you were sure she would leave again but instead of that, she looked at her hands.

"There was a problem, with the mission" she said and this time you didn't stop yourself to reach for her.

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?"

Natasha looked at your hands together and sighed.

"Not yet, maybe later" with tenderness, she put her other hand on top of yours "what I mean with this is, I don't want to push you away, not you"

Were you dreaming? Was she saying what you think she was saying? It was impossible. But with the hint of honesty in her green eyes it was hard to doubt her.

"Then don't" you whispered with hope in your voice "I'm here"

A tiny yet beautiful smile appeared on her lips, maybe she wasn't ready to be herself completely with someone else but for you, she will try.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Black Mercy

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!JL!reader (Justice League Unlimited!Bruce)

Summary: When you and Bruce find Superman in the Fortress of Solitude, you encounter the Black Mercy. Bruce faces his heart's greatest desire, and you encourage him to find happiness.

Warnings: spoilers/rewrite for Justice League Unlimited 1x2 "For the Man Who Has Everything", fluff, canon-level violence and action

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: I'll say it again... this show is elite. I'll never shut up about the characterizations of Batman, Superman, and the Flash! But, also, his bat ears.

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | DC Masterlist | Request Info

“J’onn, when did Superman check in last?” you inquire.

J’onn clicks the trackpad before him. The Watchtower has the most advanced technology of any place you’ve ever seen, yet J’onn has to navigate to the most recent communication reports to learn when he last heard Clark’s voice.

“Several hours,” J’onn answers with a frown. “He traveled to his Fortress of Solitude to investigate a disturbance but hasn’t reported since he arrived.”

“I’ll try to contact him,” you tell J’onn.

Bruce thought of everything when he designed and funded the Watchtower, and you navigate to your favorite private area. You occasionally wonder if he created such spots for people like you, the unpowered or easily overwhelmed. The Watchtower is big enough that you could go an entire day without seeing another member of the League; now, you crave that privacy to check on your friend.

“Superman, come in,” you say into your small radio. “Hello? … Clark?”

The only response you get is a distant static. You bounce the radio between your hands and frown. Clark can handle himself, of course, but he’s also good about staying in touch. The hidden door beside you creaks open slowly before Bruce steps inside.

“I thought you may be here,” he murmurs. When he turns to face you, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Clark isn’t checking in. J’onn hasn’t heard from him in hours, and I can’t reach him on comms,” you answer.

“Where is he?”

“Fortress of Solitude.”

“Then let’s go.”

You smile and take Bruce’s hand as he helps you to stand. He leads you through the empty hallways of the Watchtower, and you hope that when you get to Superman's hideout, it's just radio interference and nothing more. He steps onto the launch bay and presses a button on his utility belt to open the canopy of the batplane.

“Can I fly?” you ask.

“No,” Bruce answers.

He flies in relative silence, and it isn’t until he steers the plane into the freezing water surrounding the Fortress of Solitude that you decide to speak.

“That was a nice turn,” you compliment. “You usually scare me when you fly.”

“Sorry,” Bruce replies shortly.

He levels the plane onto an ice bank and opens the canopy. When he sees a small box in your hand, he furrows his brows under the cowl. You lead the way through the icy cave and look around for any sign of Clark.

“Is that for his birthday?” Bruce asks.

“What’d you get him?” you reply.

“He’s not the easiest person in the world to buy presents for.” Bruce lifts an envelope from his belt as he speaks.

“Please tell me that’s not a gift card.”

“It’s not… It's cash.”

You nod, and follow Bruce up the stairs into the heart of Superman’s fortress.

“What do you get for the man who has everything?” Bruce adds before freezing.

You drop the gift box when you see Clark. Bruce’s arm stretches past you protectively as you look from a distance. Clark stands motionless with a large plant attached to his chest and wrapped around his shoulders and back.

“What is that?” you ask Bruce.

He walks down the steps to get a closer look, and you follow closely behind him.

“Looks like some kind of plant,” Bruce says. “Seems to be growing through his costume and into his body.”

You step to Bruce’s side and look at Clark’s chest. He’s breathing, barely, but that’s enough of a promise that he can be saved from whatever this is. Clearly, someone was in the fortress, and Clark probably interrupted them. You will know where to start if you learn what he was investigating.

“Look around,” Bruce requests. “I’ll see what I can find here.”

You leave his side as he shines a light in Clark’s eyes. Bruce is well-versed in Kryptonian anatomy, so you trust him to decide what’s best for Clark.

“Pupils aren’t responding in the slightest. He must be cut off from all sensation,” Bruce deduces.

“How do we save someone who doesn’t know we’re trying?” you inquire.

Bruce doesn’t answer you but murmurs, “Kent, where are you?”

“So, it was a gift. Teleported here from some alien culture, some grateful world. Or someone wanting you to think they were grateful,” Bruce says to Clark.

“How remarkable,” someone calls. Bruce stands quickly and sees Mongul as he finishes, “You animals really are almost intelligent, aren’t you? That’s exactly what happened.”

Mongul steps out of the shadows, and Bruce sees you unconscious in his hand. His jaw clenches, but he remains calm and focused. He can’t save you or Clark if he loses a fight with Mongul.

“Mongul,” Bruce greets.

“You recognize me. I’m flattered. I suppose Superman told you all about our previous encounter.”

“You mean how he humiliated you?” Bruce taunts.

“A… jaundiced account. What inferior specimens he surrounds himself with.” Mongul raises you cruelly and says, “I took her down before she even knew I was there, and I’ll take this planet just as easily.”

You gesture with your hand to show Bruce you’re about to move and then swing your legs up. When they meet Mongul’s jaw, he tips back, and you fall to the cold floor.

“Maybe she knew more than you thought,” you say. “We inferior specimens call it ‘playing possum.’”

You prepare to fight Mongul despite the unfairness of the fight. Before you can punch or be punched, however, Bruce jumps between you and Mongul.

“No,” he demands.

“Clearly the males on this world are the smart one,” Mongul muses. “He wants to know about the plant. The Black Mercy is a telepathic species. It reads the heart’s desires and feeds the individual a totally convincing simulation of it.”

“So, he’s dreaming?” Bruce clarifies.

“Oh, far deeper than any dream. I wonder where he thinks he is… Sitting on a throne ruling the universe, all you human garbage fawning at his feet? More honest, don’t you think than this pretense of being a selfless hero?”

“Bruce, we can’t take him,” you whisper as Mongul looks at Clark. “What are we supposed to do?”

“We can’t take him,” Bruce agrees. “But we can take a plant.”

“Need a distraction?”

“Be careful.”

You run toward Mongul and force him backward, away from Clark. He knocks you to the floor with ease, but where you lack size and power, you have mobility and agility. You maneuver away from him and run through an opening in the wall. As you hoped, he follows you.

Meanwhile, Bruce attempts to cut through the plant but fails.

“He’ll kill her, Clark,” Bruce tells Clark. “And then he’ll kill us all. Shake it off. Come back to us… Please.”

Bruce told you to be careful, but you’re doing anything you can to keep Mongul away from him. You fire a Kryptonian weapon at him, but you and Bruce face similar luck as nothing works to help you. You’re trapped in a losing fight, and Bruce can’t get Clark back. You see another line of weapons and run into an adjoining room. Mongul follows you, and he’s loud enough that Bruce can locate you without seeing you.

“She’s in the hall of weapons. That will buy her time, but not enough.” He grips Clark’s shoulders and adds, “She’s fighting for her life, Clark. You’ve got to fight too, Clark.”

The weapon goes cold, and you drop it before you realize how close you are to Mongul. Mogul wraps a hand around your shoulders and squeezes your neck before pushing you onto the floor.

“First, I’ll kill you and the Bat and then I’ll take this planet,” he says.

“You won’t win,” you force out.

“Of course I will.”

Mongul lifts you from the ground before dropping you again, and you can only hope that Bruce is close to saving Clark. Once he’s back, you can be sure Mongul won’t win.

“Yes, that’s it,” Bruce says as he pulls the Black Mercy from Clark’s chest. “Fight it. Fight it.”

Bruce finally succeeds and removes the plant from Clark, but his victory is short-lived before it attaches to him instead.

“Batman!” you yell as Mongul throws you across the hall of weapons.

You struggle to push yourself to your feet, but a blue and red blur knocks Mongul off his feet before you can. While Clark pays Mongul back for everything he lost, you stumble through a hole in the wall to find Bruce. It’s unimaginable - to lose your heart’s desire, but when you see Bruce smiling with the Black Mercy on his chest, you find the strength to keep moving.

“Bruce,” you call, but it’s no more than a whimper.

You kneel before him and grip the sides of the plant. Pulling is pointless, but you need him back. Clark can undoubtedly handle Mongul alone, but Bruce needs your help now.

“Bruce, fight for me. Come back to me,” you plead.

“Bruce, I think it’s your turn.”

Bruce shakes his head and continues kissing you. The kids are making noise in the formal living room, but he ignores it. Not even the unmistakable sound of something breaking can draw Bruce away from you.

“Brucie,” you try again.

Talking against his lips doesn't work because his kisses are addictive. You finally raise your hands and push yourself away from Bruce. He smiles, and you know your happiness is evident on your face, too.

“Your kids are destroying the manor,” you remind him. 

“We can fix it. And they’re our kids.”

“I’m happy,” you tell him.

“I am too.”

Bruce brushes your hair back and watches your smile fall.

“But it’s not real,” you whisper.

“It can be,” Bruce promises.

He leans toward you, and you kiss his forehead before answering, “Then wake up and make it real.”

Bruce wakes and is harshly reminded of where he is as he falls backward. The Black Mercy is wrapping around your outstretched arms, and you grunt with effort as you force it away from your chest. Clark is still fighting Mongul, and each reference to his heart’s desire revives his fight and energy.

“Bruce,” you call.

Bruce pushes your arms away from your face, and you roll toward a hole in the floor. Mongul is directly beneath you, and the Black Mercy falls away from you before landing on him. Clark sits back in relief as Mongul disappears into his heart’s desire.

“Are you okay?” Bruce asks.

You assure him that it's nothing more than bumps and bruises, and Bruce pulls a grappling hook from his belt. You wrap your arms around Bruce and cling to him as he lowers to Clark’s side.

“This was your birthday present,” you tell Clark as you pass him the battered box. “Probably broken now, but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clark says with a smile. He looks up at the Kryptonian statues above you and promises, “I won’t forget you.”

 “I wonder what he’s seeing,” you say, pointing toward Mongul. “Something better than he deserves, I’m sure.”

“You’re the only one who didn’t get a glimpse at your heart’s desire,” Clark points out. “Maybe I should get you a gift on the way back.”

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry for whatever it is you lost. But I’m glad you get to spend your birthday here.”

“I appreciate it. And who knows, maybe I’ll get my desire someday.”

“I hope so.”

“Happy birthday,” Bruce says as he passes the envelope to Clark.

“Thanks, Bruce,” Clark replies. “What do you say we got back to the Watchtower and let the Fortress rest for a while?”

You and Bruce agree, but Bruce waits beside you as Clark walks toward the hidden entrance. He’ll meet you back in space, but now you’re more interested in Bruce’s attention on you.

“I’m sorry,” you offer.

“I thought it would be about my parents. When Mongul explained it, I just assumed,” Bruce says.

“I think mine would have been a normal life. No need for superheroes or watchtowers… just domesticity and happiness with someone who I love and who loves me.”

“You were there,” Bruce says quickly.

“Oh,” you say, unsure of any other, more appropriate response. "Was it… you don’t have to tell me.”

“It felt so real, even though I knew it wasn’t. Is it wrong that I wanted it to be?”

“Of course not.”

“Clark can’t get what he wanted, not if he was back on Krypton, but I could get mine with a single question. What makes me more worthy; after everything I’ve done?”

“Bruce,” you say, drawing his attention when you lay a hand on his chest. “It’s not about that. If your desire is more achievable in this life, that has nothing to do with what you deserve. And you’re not a bad person, so stop punishing yourself.”

“You told me I could make it real,” he murmurs.

“Then ask the question. You can leave it here with that plant, or you can do something for you this one time.”

“We were in the manor,” Bruce begins. “And there were kids playing in the other room, and you looked so happy. I was happy again, and I haven’t been happy in that house since I was eight years old.”

“Things can change,” you whisper.

“Would you- could we try?” Bruce asks.

“The kids in the manor thing or the you and me thing?” you tease.

You lay your hands on Bruce’s shoulders and lean close to him. His hands hover above your waist before settling against the top of your hips.

“Both?” he suggests.

“Alfred will be so happy to have company again,” you say before closing the distance and kissing Bruce.

His dreams are coming true, and yours are too. The fight never ends, but part of you is glad that the Black Mercy attached to Bruce’s chest and the version of you in his heart convinced him to take the next step.

“Alright, let’s go, Brucie,” you say as you pull back. “Clark’s going to get suspicious.”

“Brucie?” Bruce repeats. “You’ve never called me that before.”

“New things, remember? Now, come on, we have a world to protect before you take me on a proper date.”

Bruce follows you as you walk back toward the batplane and shakes his head as he murmurs, “Does this not count?”

[acourtofthought]

I like the potential of elucien but they currently have no chemistry. How do you think Sarah will go about their story?

For Elucien it's really as simple as forced proximity. Put them in a situation where they're forced to spend "two weeks alone together" (quote from ACOMAF) and I'm 100% certain that we're going to see exactly why SJM mated them. Heck, give me a day with them alone together, no sisters hovering near by, Elain having no choice but to speak directly too him without the heavy shadow of recent loss hovering over it and we'll see it.

I think some in the fandom are confusing Elain's physical attraction to Az as proof that she has chemistry with him but when physical attraction is used to build romantic chemistry between characters it will always result in a shallow love story. Lucien did find Elain to be the most beautiful female he'd ever seen so I'm not saying attraction can't be there but when you have characters giving into that attraction before something deeper has been established, true chemistry is going to fall flat. Having Az tell us he's avoided Elain for a year while she's still recovering from trauma doesn't call to mind that he's someone she was able to lean on, it doesn't make me believe that he feels anything for her because she could have used his friendship during that time (since she wasn't asking for distance) but he chose to stay away.

It calls to mind desperately crushing on someone in high school, where you watch them from afar, hoping for the day you can be together, and then finally you get your wish but you realize you actually don't know this person at all. You're infatuated with the idea of them rather than the real them.

I'm not saying Elain and Lucien have any sort of wild on page chemistry right now but it was kind of difficult for there to be any while she was mourning the loss of her humanity and Graysen. And though there was a little bit of hope that she was ready to move past that by the end of ACOWAR, she regressed in the novella Likewise was zero chemistry on page between Nesta and Cassian in ACOFAS, when she chose to push him away after the war.

Characters can't have chemistry when they are ignoring their possible love interest, you actually have to see them talking.

As far as how Sarah will go about their story, I think there are a few options.

Right now we have already had Elain volunteering to help with the Trove, Rhys saying that Elain is capable of more than they've given her credit for, that gardening results in something pretty but involves one getting their hands dirty along the way, and Elain saying she'll do whatever is needed.

The options are limitless because of the above.

The issues they currently face are:

Beron allying with Koschei and setting his sights on Spring.

The NC reminding us that they need Springs army as an ally but that Tamlin is even worse after the announcement of Feyre's pregnancy.

Koschei preparing to call Vassa back.

Koschei trying to get his hands on the Trove to free himself so he might rule their world.

The NC could decide they need to utilize Elain's Seer powers and send her to Day Court to help her train her powers. They don't seem very knowledgeable on Seers so Helion's library's might be the best place for her to learn how to train her powers.

The could decide a marriage alliance between themselves and other courts might benefit them and Elain could volunteer to marry Lucien because she's so over the concept of love and men after Graysen and Az's rejection that she's decided she'll simply focus on helping the courts rather than marrying for love (the concept was introduced in SF after all and SJM carried it out an arranged marriage trope in HOFAS).

They could send Elain as an emissary "spy" to the Spring Court. Not in the shadows or anything, just acting as their courtier, where she would gather information on the situation there, to be sure Lucien's reporting has been unbiased.

Elain could end up dreaming of the drums of Calanmai and find herself pulled to Spring on her own.

They could send Elain to the continent to retrieve Mor since Feysands daemati range does not work that far and have Lucien accompany her.

Or something SJM imagines up! I don't think any of us guessed how Nessian would end up being forced together in SF.

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree • Part 6

Rosie Rosenthal x Reader

warnings: 18+, soft dom, oral (m & f giving and receiving), sexual intercourse.

“Ready to go?” Sally saunters through the door of the schoolhouse, her skirt swaying in the cool breeze emanating from the doorway. You're midway through shoving a biscuit in your mouth as she slams through, distracting you and causing you to almost choke on a stray crumb.

“That's one way to make an entrance,” you say, feeling your face reddening from straining, trying to keep a cough at bay. “You're early,” you tell her, your eyebrow raised. “It's only three.”

“R-right…” she begins, her eyes darting around the room. “Just thought, since it's Friday and everything, you should get some extra time at home. Y'know, refresh before the weekend, be ready for tonight–”

“Tonight?” you cut her off. “We're only going to the bloody pub, Sal. They've seen me looking the least refreshed possible.”

“Yes, hm, I know but, uh–” she pauses, and you spot the telltale sign that she's keeping something from you: the corner of her mouth is twitching as she struggles to come up with a lie. Just like she can read you like a book after all these years, you're able to do the same with her. You peer at her, your eyebrow still raised, sighing at her. 

“Fine, okay. I'll go home and be ‘refreshed’,” your fingers making air quotes around the word. “But if I find out you're keeping something from me, you're in for it, lady.” You poke at her, then giggle to show her you're joking as her face drops and starts graying. “Come on then,” you sigh, wiping the last of the biscuit crumbs from your pants and closing your notebooks, placing them in a drawer in preparation for the new week. 

---

James is stood outside under the apple tree, smoking a cigarette and munching an apple, taking alternate bites and puffs of the cigarette. As he sees the pair of you coming towards him and catches sight of Sally, the worst happens. Watching him as if in slow motion, he bites down on the cigarette, his face contorting as he realizes what he's done. You and Sally break into a peal of laughter, James’ face turning the same shade of red as the apple he'd been eating.

“Alright, leave it,” he drawls, his eyes slightly downcast before he erupts into laughter too. “Come on, chicks, let's get outta here.” Throwing the bitten cigarette into the makeshift trash can (a bucket the children had painted and then nailed to a post), you begin in the direction of your cottage. 

—

It's halfway through the walk that you spot a familiar figure in the distance. Back slightly scrunched, clutching his hat with the same anxiety that seems to always be racing through his body, is Harry Crosby. 

“Croz!” James yells, raising a hand in greeting.

“Harry Crosby. A pleasure, as always.” you say as he nods at you, winking at James. 

“This is all very nice,” you start. “But what's going on?” You look between the three of them, all of them trying their best not to make eye contact with you. Sally's lips begin to purse and, once again, that mouth twitch. You grip her by the shoulder to get her to look at you. “Out with it, Sally.” She giggles, shaking her head and looks over at her man. He lifts his hands up, as if to say he's not breaking either. 

“Harry?” Your eyes squinting toward him, knowing that he'll be the one to crack. His face turns pale as he shifts from one foot to the other as you see the cogs turning in his head, trying to formulate a believable lie. 

“Oh, errrm, it's uh–just, well, Rosie…” You feel Sally and James shoot him a darted glance and you hear James sigh. 

“Come on, man! You were doing so good!”

“I'm–I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just–” he struggles to hide a smile, his hand covering his mouth as the color comes back to his cheeks. 

“You'd all better tell me what's going on, you cheeky little–”

“No,” Sally says pointedly, smiling at you, linking arms with James. “Let's just get you home, and then you'll see.”

—

You're a few steps away from your cottage when you see someone pacing from your front door to your white picket gate. Harry, Sally and James look towards you, all smiling as they see you let out a gasp. Shooting a glance at the three of them, you break into a full sprint towards your home. Not bothering to try and unlatch the gate, you leap over it and into Rosie's arms. There's a second of silence before you're both laughing in relief, you letting out an excited yelp as he lifts you off the ground.

“Oh, Rosie,” you murmur into him, his lips finally capturing yours in a tender kiss. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” kissing you again as he puts you down. Noticing the tears trickling from your eyes, his own eyes widen. “Hey now, pretty girl,” he says softly, taking you in his arms again. “Don't cry, shhh, it's okay.” 

“I'm sorry,” you choke out, gulping through your tears. “I just missed you so much, and…oh, it's been horrible.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, your head on his chest and him stroking your hair. You feel his breath shake a little, his hand stroking your back. “I missed you more.”

“Not possible,” you sniffle, looking up at him. He places his hand on your face and kisses you deeply. 

“I can't tell you how many nights I dreamt of doing this while I was away, just being with you. Kissing you, holding you. It's all that spurred me on, in fact.” He pauses, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just wanted to come home to you.”

You hear the gate click open, pulling you from your little bubble with Rosie. You turn to see your friends with huge grins on their faces, Sally's eyes glistening with tears. 

“Are you all coming in?”

“No, we're gonna be leaving you to it,” James says, winking cheekily. “We'll see yall tomorrow!” 

—

Entering the house, you and Rosie both remove your jackets and place them on the coat hooks by the door. Without thinking, you go into autopilot, walking to the kitchen to boil a pot of water for tea. Lighting a match to turn the gas on, you feel Rosie's arms around your waist. Leaning over your shoulder, he blows the match out, and turns you around to face him. He kisses you so deeply that it takes your breath away, his lovely big hands pawing all over your body. You feel yourself pushed against the stove, the weight of the two of you against it causing it to move out of place. Giggling, you break apart.

“Do you want tea, or not?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“No,” He kisses you again, humming into you. “I just want you.” 

You feel yourself being picked up and carried over to the dining table on the opposite side of the room. He sits you down upon it, and without hesitation, your legs wrap around his waist to get him as close to you as possible. 

“Woah, hold on, honey,” he laughs, his hands on your thighs. He starts pressing light kisses to your neck before giving it a small nip with his teeth, making you gasp. “Let me take my time, yeah?” He looks back at you, his blown pupils overtaking his baby blue eyes. You nod in agreement, reaching up to kiss him again. “Good girl,” he purrs, his lips meeting yours. 

The kiss deepens, you gasping for air as he toys with your belt, reaching out to unbutton his shirt. You get two buttons open when he pushes your hands away, placing them gently on the table. “No, honey,” he says breathlessly. “Wait your turn.” 

“B-but…” you stutter, confused. “I need to touch you, I haven't touched you in months. Please, darling.”

“No,” he repeats, his hands returning to your belt. “Not until I've taken care of you first.” In a swift movement, he's pulled your belt loose and unbuttoned your trousers, untucking your shirt painstakingly slowly. It takes everything in you to not rip it off yourself, and he sees your hands begin to move from their position on the table.

“Nu-uh,” he looks at you pointedly, those damn pretty eyes full of want. “Do as you're told. Hands down.” With a frustrated moan, you slam your hands back down on the table, Rosie back to kissing and nibbling at your neck and collar as he unbuttons your blouse, his mustache adding that delicious tickle and roughness you'd missed so much. You feel yourself white knuckling the table as he sucks and nibbles his way across your front, removing your brassiere nimbly. 

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, his mouth making its way down lower to your chest. 

“Please, Rosie,” you beg, his mouth hovering over your puckered nipple. “Please let me touch you.” It all comes out as a whine, your brow furrowed with frustration. 

“Look at you,” he purrs in that deep, husky voice. “Begging like that.” You try to moan, but it comes out as more of a high-pitched whine as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his fingers fiddling with the other before switching sides. Your hands find themselves in his curls and he doesn't object.

“Finally,” you sigh. Your fingers run through his hair, tickling through his scalp as he gets lower, gesturing you to lift your hips up to remove your panties. You're already a glistening mess, and you whimper as he looks you up and down.

"Shit, honey,” he says, eyes widening as he surveys the area. “You really missed me, huh?”

“I did, I did, I really did, baby,” you mewl, groaning at the sight of him finally removing his shirt. You drink the sight of him in, looking at several new scars and cuts upon his chest and arms. Kneeling down in front of you, his hands on your thighs, he slowly pushes his tongue through your folds, moaning as he does so. “Taste even better than I remember, sweet girl.” Your hands find their way back into his hair, tugging lightly every time he hits the right spots. Just as you're about to reach your peak, he slips a finger inside you, the come hither motion toppling you over the edge. He laps up your release with a moan, your grip released from his curls. 

Before you can even come down from your high, he's lifting you up again, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you upstairs. It's a struggle to get the bedroom door open as he insists on still holding you there, the both of you breaking into laughter as you fight with the doorknob. 

“These damn old British houses,” he laughs, resigning to putting you down and forcing his way in. You take him by the hand and pull him into the room, your hands ending up on either side of his neck to pull him into a kiss. Trailing down his body, you stroke at the bulge in his slacks, causing him to moan into your mouth. 

“Your turn, Major,” you whisper, kneeling down in front of him.

“Oh, God…” his voice trails off at the sight of you unbuttoning his pants, freeing his length from his underwear. Collecting the beads of moisture with your thumb that have appeared at the pretty pink tip, you stroke him, seeing his eyes roll back into his head before taking him into your mouth. He moans at the sensation of your tongue working its way around him, breathing heavily within moments. He puts his hand at the back of your head to keep the rhythm he enjoys most, his eyes remaining closed in heavenly ecstasy. You look up at him, somehow smiling with your mouth full, heat building in your stomach at the sight of this beautiful man about to lose his mind because of you.

His hands untangle from your hair, and begin to stroke your face, pushing your chin away from him. “On the bed, babydoll,” he says, out of breath, cheeks flushed and pupils blown. “I need to be inside you.” 

As you lay there, waiting, you catch sight of his behind in your vanity mirror, the slightly faded tan of his peachy butt a delicious view. His strong thighs, the backs of his equally strong arms and that wonderful back of his turn you on even more than you already are, from what was it he once said? ‘Piloting a school bus like a fighter jet.’

“Are you ogling me, Y/N?” he teases, a playful grin on his lips 

“Yes, Major. Yes, I am.” You smile back, winking at him. He hurriedly plants a kiss on your nose, still smiling. 

“God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. Now, please,” you moan, pulling him closer by hooking your finger on the chain of his dog tag. “Please fuck me.” His eyes widen at your request, biting his lip as he lines himself up at your entrance.

“Yes, ma'am.” 

Both sighing - all that pent up frustration being released - as he enters you, he gives you a minute to adjust to him. You grip the curls on the back of his neck as he begins to pump in and out of you, noses touching, breaths mingling. 

“Fuck, honey,” he pants. “You feel so good. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sweet boy. More than you'll ever know.” 

Within minutes, you reach your second orgasm of the day, him murmuring praise as he watches you ride it out. “There you go, pretty girl,” he mumbles into your skin. “Told you I'd take care of you.” He begins to kiss your neck as his thrusts become sloppier, spilling into you moments later. Breaths shaking, he pulls out of you and you whine at the emptiness. He rushes to the bathroom to clean off, bringing a warm wet washcloth for you. 

You pull the duvet back and pat the spot - his spot - on the bed beside you. Before you've even finished wordlessly asking, he's in the bed, pulling you on top of him to snuggle. You bury your face deep in his neck, breathing him in and never wanting to forget his scent. You kiss him repeatedly, before softly stroking and kissing the new scars on his body. 

“Sweet boy,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Darling, beautiful man.” You feel him sigh underneath you, wondering if this is the first time he's been totally relaxed in weeks. You see his eyelids begin to get heavy, his face softening at your touch. 

“Can I spend the night?” 

“My love, you don't even need to ask. I'd let you spend every night in my bed if you were able to do so.”

“I'd love that,” he sighs, as much as he can muster in his exhausted state. You slip off him and onto your own pillow.

“Hmmm…” you feel him drifting off, not before he leans over to kiss your nose, your cheeks and then your lips. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Rosie.” 

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666

[dropthedemiurge]

Second part of my translation comments (and half meta) for Gray Shelter [Episode 5], you can find the first post here!

"You gave the choice/decision to me, didn't you? (reference to the earlier scene)" "So your decision is to give me some money and tell me to get out of your sight?"

꺼져 is quite a rude word, like 'get the hell away from me', Yoondae is clearly pissed rephrasing/interpreting Soohyuk's intentions, he's using informal tone too

"Because I live like this? Because I idle/fool around here and there without doing anything, not able to get myself together (cannot get a grip on myself and my life)? Because you still see me as a child?!" "Yes. That's why I'm confused. Because it doesn't matter who is by your side (anyone will do), right?" "And (what's the problem)? You can be by my side. Why is everything so complicated for you? Just... (in softest pleading voice) ...Watch me. I will live like all the other people. Then it'll all be good (it's solved), no? You can watch over me while being by my side. Mmhm? Don't care about the situation, once again I'm telling you, just look only right at me."

I actually really like the usage of 'focus on me' in all the sentences because the translator keeps the leitmotif and it works in all contexts, the entire conversation was translated nicely. Even "- What's the most difficult thing about me and this situation for you? - That I'm your home (the place you return to now)."

I just gave you more literal translation... idk, for fun xD Maybe you'll catch more nuances that I tried to put in here. It's just devastating. Soohyuk sees and feels that Yoondae is clinging to him like to a lifeline, and he doesn't want to be one, he's got enough of people burdening him, his life is hard enough.

He tried to think simply like Yoondae and just live in the moment, give in to his impulses as well, but he just can't. He's sinking on his own and he can't chain himself to another person because even if he's a safe place for Yoondae, he won't be able to save him in this situation, it means they'll both drown. Yoondae has to find his own ground to stand on, he has to get a grip and find a new home on his own so he won't circle his entire life and attention on Soohyuk. Only then it'll work.

"If I find another home, can I call you? You won't avoid me then?"

They don't kiss here – they can't. It won't work. But such short distance is a promise, it's a possible future happy ending hanging between them both like a life vest and a heavy rock.

I'm not sure he means it as 'we get together again'. More like

"If we meet again, will we become okay?"

Like, they agreed it won't work out now, they need some time, and Yoondae now will be holding onto that hope that Soohyuk might accept him and his feelings once Yoondae finds his own home, his own meaning in life. But he's still afraid it won't happen, that's why he needs to hear some affirmation. Will things between them become alright (and the fact that he doesn't really say 'better' or 'good', he uses 괜찮다 - fine, alright, okay and asks if they will be able to even reach that). Which means they both know their relationship is less than 'okay' now.

And in a very Gray Shelter melancholic satisfying-unsatisfying way, Soohyuk only replies: "It'd at least be better than now."

That's the only thing Yoondae is left with. This, and a daring request to pretend he didn't steal that goodbye kiss.

And we're getting a time skip which starts on a sound of a ringing telephone. ("If I find another home, can I call you? ) And surprisingly, it doesn't seem that Yoondae is the one calling this time, as he wanted to. It seems like Yoondae accepted the call but he wasn't holding it or answering, yet Soohyuk called him and invited him for a dinner and is waiting for the answer. Now, the decision is up to Yoondae.

There is a calendar on the wall but I honestly didn't track if there were any other calendars in the show so we can tell how long was the time skip.

"Alright. I'll be waiting."

To be honest, in the ending I wished they showed at least one scene of Yoongdae coming home in a work-like uniform or doing something to indicate he started sorting his life out before that call came through. Because even though the ending is hopeful – they lived separately for some time, Yoondae has his own place, Soohyuk is reaching out to spend time with him now and they both agreed their next meeting will be more hopeful – but will it be enough? Was the problem actually solved?

We all should think that yes, but I wish the ending supported it a little bit more confidently. After such a rollercoaster of emotions and complicated situation, I want to see them heading towards the truly happy ending Т_т (give me the second season!)

In any case, the acting is great and the melancholic atmosphere for a BL was so unusual, I loved the edgy dialogues and emotionally raw writing. For such a short story, Gray Shelter certainly will go under many people's radar but it still touched my soul.

And, well, now I understand the title. Soohyuk is a shelter, he shouldn't be a home. Shelter is a place they seek temporarily comfort in when they have nowhere else to go. And it's not a bright happy couple place, and it's not an abusive family house either, gray is neither black nor white. It's something in between, and it's up to Soohyuk and Yoondae to try and build an actual equal bond, have a place to return to and person to eat dinner with.

[jimraisedmeup]

TICK // 1.1 - gimme danger

Rating: mature (language, sexual content)

Word Count: 640

☾

There's nothing in my dreams Just some ugly memories Kiss me like the ocean breeze

Now, if you will be my lover I will shiver and sing But if you can't be my master I will do anything

☾

September 1983 - junior year

"Who does your tattoos, Edward Munson?"

The blunt voice behind him took him off guard, appearing out of nowhere. It didn't even sound like a question. More like a matter-of-fact demand. 

Your voice was thick and dripping like honey. Deeper than the voices of other girls in your school. Eddie was so used to the high-pitched, bubblegum-popping, giggling tones of the artificial female species that wandered the halls of Hawkins High.

The cafeteria around him was bustling with all the usual assholes, but suddenly all he could focus on was the figure of you standing behind him.

Finally turning around to lay eyes on the culprit, Eddie was shocked to see you.

He knew you, of course. Or at least knew of you. 

In the back of his mind, he tried to remember if he had ever even spoken to you before. But he would have remembered your unique voice. Eddie's whole life revolved around sounds, melodies, vibrations. 

You were a year younger than him, being a junior while he was a senior. He recalled seeing you in the crowded hallways. Plain hair. A face that said leave me the fuck alone. Weren’t you a part of the French Club or some shit?

His mind was racing, but still responded to you without any sign of hesitation. There were too many witnesses around for him to let his guard down. Bako and Donny, seated at the table with him, openly stared in awe.

Eddie found his vocal cords. "I do some of them. My uncle has a friend that does some of them."

Your disarming gaze bore into him, squinting for a moment. Eddie took a second to glance down at your clothes. Blue jeans. Gray fitted t-shirt. You were plain. No other word for it.

"How much for one?"

"What?"

"A tattoo. How much do you charge for a tattoo."

Again, you didn’t really ask it as a question. It was less of an innocent query and more of a personal space invasion, a solicitation. Your face gave away not a single emotion or even a hint of a personality.

Eddie scratched his head, acting like he was thinking deeply. He glanced at Donny, who looked at him like well, say something, idiot!

"Well, sunshine, that depends." 

That's all he could think of. Why were you suddenly speaking to him? You had successfully ignored each other for the last however many years.

Your shoulders dropped in annoyance, but you still held onto the lunch tray in your hands. 

"Okay, depends on what?"

A wicked grin painted his lips. At the motion of your shoulders falling, he could easily tell that you definitely weren’t wearing a bra. Your tits were smaller than average, basically nonexistent, but Eddie had x-ray vision at the short distance between you and him.

"Hmm… size, the design… location." Leaning over in the plastic chair, he purposely fixed his eyes on your ample behind.

You scoffed at him, "Cool, you're a real Don Juan. Let's get to the point, yeah? I want a quarter sized half moon on my hip. Just the outline, nothing fancy. Need more info?"

Taking his time to answer, mainly because he suddenly found himself entertained by your impatience, he shrugged. 

"Nah. I'll do it for fifteen bucks."

"Deal. How soon can you do it?"

You were all business and no play. Eddie was enticed by your no-bullshit confidence.

A shocking flash of pink passed behind you: a popular girl chatting excitedly with a football player. Neon pink windbreaker, bleach blonde hair in perfect curls. Eddie observed her.

And then he looked back at you. So ordinary yet so different.

"How does this weekend sound?"

You held your hand out in front of him to shake. Your skin was smooth and warm on his callouses.

"Don't fuck this up, Munson. I'll see you Friday."

☾

There's nothing left alive But a pair of glassy eyes Raise my feelings one more time

☾

(song lyrics credit: "Gimme Danger" by The Stooges)

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[lady-of-endless]

Things you do that make their heart melt

(La Squadra Esecuzioni x reader hcs)

Author's Note: Those are random but that's the point. I tried to be a bit explicit for those who are at the start of Jojo part 5 and maybe don't remember each character's Stand name or ability. I couldn't write this only for my 3 darlings from La Squadra as I started it because I love them all too much. Proud La Squadra stan. Excuse any grammar mistakes. Enjoy!

Risotto Nero

- How you can balance being serious and being affectionate so easily. This is something he admires a lot and wishes to be capable of too sometimes. Yes, he's a serious and stoic man but the whole La Squadra knows just how big his heart is. Sometimes Risotto wishes he could show a bit of affection to the ones dear to him. Risotto is a softie inside but the nature of his occupation forces him to be as reserved and stern as he is now.

- How you can protect yourself. Being a hitman is tough, nothing new under the sun, but being the leader of the team is even worse. It's hard to watch out for others when he also must make sure that everything is working out smoothly. But he cares about you and your safety so damn much it's almost dangerous. So seeing you handle enemies alone helps him fall asleep at night with fewer worries. Also, watching you fight and come up with strategies makes him smile slightly and so subtly that of course, no one can notice it.

- How you look dressed in black with silver accessories. Aesthetically wise, black is one of his favorite colors and no one can tell otherwise. When you decide to match him with a dark outfit, his gaze will follow you more than usual. Be sure of the fact that he'll use his Stand, Metallica, to give you subtle signals, or not so subtle, by pulling onto your belt or necklace.

(it's loving Risotto hours)

Prosciutto

- How you calm yourself down after an intense moment. Prosciutto himself is not proud of when he snaps at people, thinking that it's not graceful behavior so he starts studying you from afar while calming down. He analyzes your soft tone, your calm face but alert eyes after being harsh, to learn from you but he finds himself falling for it. Like his brother, he also craves a bit of softness in his life but will never admit it, not even to himself so seeing you simmer down and transform into someone calm and understanding makes him want your presence more.

- How you counter him when he is too cruel to his brother. He is harsh with Pesci and he knows it, but he thinks it's only for good. It's not about how you're stubborn enough to argue with him but about how it reminds him that if something ever goes wrong with him on a mission, someone else will make sure that his brother is still alright and progressing. Also, as you two are arguing, things get pretty heated in no time and as the distance between you closes in, everyone knows that it's better to leave you two alone.

- How focused you look when deciding on an outfit. That and how you ask him for an opinion. You can see him leaning back in an armchair just looking at you searching through your clothes with an amused but admirative look on his face. Prosciutto likes to make himself look presentable and if you do the same, he can't help but find that fact attractive. Plus he can play dress up with you without you even suspecting it and he can't get enough of it.

(why is he like that? Love him though)

Ghiaccio

- How you let yourself be angry sometimes. To him, almost anyone seems calmer than him, but seeing someone being as furious as him from time to time and that someone being you? That's new. It doesn't happen often and in some odd way, he finds it fascinating. As much as he enjoys teasing you, he'll never be the type to say "Just calm down" or "You're exaggerating" because he knows how much it enrages someone already angry to hear this. He will be very understanding when you're like that. Plus, if someone or something gets you angry, he gets angry too so it will end up with the two of you being a scary couple.

- How your eyes shine when you smile and your smile in general. He is baffled by how when your lips are curved into a smile, your eyes are radiant too. Usually, he uses this expressiveness of yours against you, teasing you about it but when you smile so warmly, he feels like he's looking at the sun and that's unnerving because it makes him blush. He can't understand it.

- How your nose scrunches when you get a brain freeze from consuming something cold. This along with how your cheeks and nose redden when you're cold. He rolls his eyes at himself for like such a shallow and obvious thing but can't help it. It's not how adorable you look it's more how no one notices such details but him. It's his guilty pleasure. He has a kink when it comes to your reactions to cold temperatures.

(ugh I love him so much it's pathetic)

Pesci

- How you encourage him randomly sometimes. Pesci's already having a hard time adjusting to hitman life and constantly being scolded by his brother. At first, when you encourage him, he's stunned, flustered, embarrassed even but in time he starts to feel so much better overall because of it. His stress goes down and he gets more confident and sure of his actions because of your praise.

- How you're kind to the innocent - animals, kids, etc. Since he followed his brother and joined the team, the shock from seeing so much violence in his life all of a sudden left a mark on him. When he notices you being soft to the innocent and helpless while still being a hitman, he starts to heal. His only wish is for you to keep this side of yours so he can keep his too.

- How peaceful you look while sleeping. Again, being in an Italian hitman team is not easy, it distorted any perspective on peacefulness he had before. Seeing you rest without a frown on your face reminds him that there still is peacefulness in this way of living.

Melone

- How you're intelligent enough but don't flaunt it. Sure, he likes good looks but that's not as important as intelligence, any type. Melone is a bit of a sapiosexual, he knows it. If you come up with smart questions during meetings, his attention is immediately on you from that point on until the end of the meeting. Also, if you're genuinely curious about how his stand, Baby Face, works, it only adds to your charm.

- How you pick up on his "di molto" catchphrase. Melone works a lot. I mean A LOT. Besides progenation, he's skilled at finding out hidden info about the target, too. But usually, he does it alone, no one accompanies him and sometimes he can't help but feel slightly ignored. So when you start spending enough time with him to start using his phrases, he starts to feel less alone.

- How you walk. Simple as that. He has been caught many times staring at how some people walk, it's a well-known fact. So if you walk a bit slower and move your hips a bit more intentionally, making it look natural, he's dead. To hell with the mission for a few moments of pure admiration.

Illuso

- How confident you are. You don't need him to hype you up and he won't, but you'll always catch him looking at you with a proud look on his face. However, not everyone can be confident all the time and Illuso knows it very well. When he finds you letting your guard down and looking disappointed with yourself, he'll act right away. He hates seeing you struggle with shallow insecurities as you are just so wonderful in his eyes...

- How you take time to relax. He always insists on you taking everything a bit more slowly, so when you finally do it, he's more than pleased. He likes to see your facial muscles loosen up, causing a relaxed expression. He wishes to see it more often and he wishes for you to prioritise taking care of yourself.

- How you study yourself in the mirror while getting ready. He will use his Stand's ability to enter that mirror's dimension just to look at you from that perspective. This applies to intimate moments as well, just a heads-up. However, his favorite moment to do that is when you're fixing your hair, there's something about it that he finds so damn attractive.

Formaggio

- How you focus on the mission at hand. That, and how serious you look while doing it. Don't get it wrong, he's also focused on the missions but he looks more laid-back, like a natural. He finds it funny and adorable how you look so stern and even suggest him to pay more attention.

- How you always mention Sorbet and Gelato after their death. Everyone knows that Risotto said to forget about it after the funeral to focus on getting back on track as fast as possible and avenging them afterward but to Formaggio, this never felt right. So when you mention a memory from time to time to everyone, his heart feels a little bit lighter.

- How you dance to your favorite songs. He thinks that the majority of members of La Squadra are too stiff and grim sometimes so catching you dancing around alone to your playlist makes him smile. For him, it's like a breath of fresh air. Expect him to join you.