#i want all the men who follow me to know i love them so fucking much.

[chrollohearttags]

nsfw alphabet • bruno bucciarati: breath play

📝: black fem!reader (she’s a former escort), fingering, squirt play, side fucking

word count: 1.3K

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you’d encountered many men in your line of work. After all, the sole objective of your profession was to make them happy…show them a good time and do anything their hearts desired. Of course, sometimes those requests got out of hand. You didn’t exactly feel comfortable but such was life..it was the hand you were dealt and if you wanted to survive in this brutal city, then it behooved you to do it without incident. You never wanted to cause trouble or get in the bad graces of someone powerful enough to make you disappear without a trace. After all, you didn’t exactly favor anyone here physicality wise, so you kept your head down and made your money. Nothing more, nothing less…however, after all this time and the plethora of patrons you’d entertained…

“Ahh! Haaa…please, Mr. Bucciarati…faster.”

“Oh hush now, mi amor..you’re going to come too quickly, you know that. You never were good at holding back..”

you could say beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you’d never met a man quite like Bruno Bucciarati! Kind, intelligent, extremely handsome, charming..just a few of his many admirable qualities. He was far more mature than most men his age and carried a rather dominant demeanor. Not in a controlling sense but instead..a man who knew how to lead and not follow. He’d never allow you to go astray..that was a sentiment he carried in the bedroom as well. He made love to you like a man obsessed. Granted, you had retired from your previous profession and spent your days living quietly off of that income. Due to a majority of your clientele being mafioso as well, you didn’t have to worry about a thing financially..they paid you amicably. It was the least bit of solace for the blatant disrespect you’d receive from time to time. However, Bruno atoned for all of that. He made you feel comforted and safe. He didn’t view you as ‘damaged goods’ or someone who was desperate for attention. There was no judgment at all. He saw the beautiful lady that lived only a floor above him..the one who was always humming and singing in the most mellifluous voice as she tended to her flowers, the one who’d bake the most delicious breads and cooked foods from her home country that made his mouth water..he was awestruck, infatuated and even dared to say…he was in love. Perhaps it was the fact that you were so similar. Two people who were so young, yet had lived three lives over. Hence why, you’d trust him wholeheartedly.

“But it feels so good. I don’t think I can hold it..” “I know it does, my dear. But you’re just going to have to be patient. You trust me, do you not?” “Of course I do, Bruno…” “..then lean back against my chest and just let me handle it. Deep breaths, okay? I need to be sure that you can handle this.”

hence why you were lying nude in his arms, sprawled out on his bed with your legs parted wide. His index and middle fingers plunged knuckle deep inside of your tight hole..that pretty pussy squelching with each plunge and refusing to loosen the grip on those digits. The sounds were enough to drive him insane, but the way you trickled down his hand, he was in absolute awe. So wet and creamy that he feared he’d last no amount of time inside of you. After all, the first time wasn’t the ideal performance he’d hoped for. Orgasming with only a few strokes because you felt that good. But you’d never felt pleasure the way you had with him. He absolutely worshiped your body and made it known each time.

Your naked bodies intertwined underneath pale moonlight and flickering candles; the contrasts of your skin making for beautiful imagery. The scene following that of the two of you immersed in a warm bath together. But it wouldn’t stay so innocent and intimate for long. Because now? He was opting for something a little less romantic and downright salacious. “Here..open your mouth. Inhale..” doing exactly as he instructed, you’d gasp and take a sharp breath. Making sure to get a healthy breath of air before he moved on. “Good girl, now hold it just like that.” In a moment’s notice, Bruno’s movements sped up between your thighs, thrusting those digits in and out. Meanwhile, his free hand had made place across your mouth and nose, asphyxiating the two as he worked you over. Plunging that tight cunt and making it squeeze around those knuckles. You wanted to scream out in pleasure, let him know how amazing it felt but alas, you couldn’t breathe. Some would probably wonder why you’d even find pleasure in something so terrifying and dangerous. He’d tested you earlier with a hand around the throat or by pinching your nose and the bodily response let him know that you were ready for such things. But you craved the rush…maybe all of those years of playing with your life, leaving it in the hands of literal criminals evoked something inside of you. You loved the adrenaline that came with this sensation. Practically wishing for air as he forced you to an orgasm. Paying at his forearm, (y/n)‘s eyes dilated as you began to feel faint. Your consciousness was right on the brink of slipping and you’d squirm around until finally…

“Come..come for me..”

he uttered those sought after words and you’d fulfill his request; allowing juices to flood those crisp white sheets. Squirting as high as his forearm. You’d been teetering on the edge all night, especially after sucking him off and it all came barreling out in an explosive climax. “Oh my gosh, yes!” At the same time, he’d release your mouth and nose, capturing you in a kiss immediately after. Before you even had time to react, he’d shift you over onto your side. But not before giving your ass a much needed smack.. “Shit..I’ve got to have you right now, I’m so sorry..” growling into your ear like that of a primitive creature. Alas, there was nothing to apologize for..you craved him just as badly. You didn’t care if the walls were paper thin and your neighbors could hear. You wanted everyone to know how excellent of a lover Bruno Bucciarati was. Curling his frame over you, he’d raise your leg up and immediately sink his cock inside of that aching warmth. “Fuck! Please fuck me..” begging him in that voice that always got you your way. He didn’t hesitate either, feeding you deep and sharp strokes whilst a hand cupped your throat. This time, a little firmer than before. Your tongue wagged around outside of your plump lips, drool trickling and falling down your chin with that deviant smile on your face. “Goddamn..the way you squeeze me when I choke you. It’s so good, bella.” He was like a man starved, abandoning your well being for both of you guys’ sexual pleasure. He wasn’t stopping for anything. He’d continue to choke you, alternating his grip as he did his pace. (Y/N) glanced back and encouraged him with filthy words. Telling him how much you loved the pain and that he could pound you harder. “Scopamiiii, oh my gosh…you’re so wet. I just want to stay buried inside of you all night..” grunting those sweet nothings in your ear. He was in awe of how amazing you felt. He knew there wasn’t a single place on earth he’d rather be. The bed creaked and slammed against the wall to match your rambunctious love making. Cries and wails of pleasure, gasps of sharp breaths when he allowed you to do so…allowing him to take full control and dominion over you. Something you’d never thought you’d be okay with a man doing.

“That’s it, amore mio..submit to me, let me take care of you from here on out. I’ll make you feel better than anyone else. Trust me..all you have to do is trust me.”

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@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @wintrrxxo @rnvsxo

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TOJI

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Zen’in Chiaki. Sixty-three. Location is in Okinawa, Japan… Reason for kill��tampering of legal documents within the company…

  The more I read this shit, it doesn’t make sense to me. A Zen’in being targeted for fucking with documents? I have no fear when it comes to those fuckers, but I don’t think anyone would be reckless enough to get themselves involved with that family. 

 My time there had me witnessing the most gruesome shit whenever someone tried to interfere with their affairs, so anyone without guts would even try to take them out. Now I’m reading a contract with a sixty-three-year-old woman that’s on their shitlist for tampering? 

 Something’s not adding up, especially when the woman appears to be from that family.

 Zen’in Chiaki? That name doesn’t ring a bell.  Don’t remember my old man having any aunts, and all his siblings are men. Could she be a cousin? A wife? I have no fucking clue. But I need a more detailed reason why she’s being targeted to kill because I just don’t go around sniping old ladies for the hell of it. 

  Is this why Kong was up my ass about taking this contract? Because the person is a Zen’in? Does he think I want to take revenge on those fuckers who abused me and the ones who witnessed it? Maybe if I didn’t have Megumi, I’d find pleasure in this. However, I can’t take that risk and do anything that could possibly fall back on my kid. 

 Just when I was about to close the folder and call Kong to reject this contract, something in her file grabs my attention. 

 Target had relations with several members of the Zen'in Family. 

 “What the fuck…” That’s what this is? They want to kill some broad they all slept with? So she’s definitely someone’s mistress. My guess is she’s not actually from the family and was married into, and probably slept around for money.

 Maybe now they’re not giving her what she wants, she went into tampering, they found out, and now they want to wipe her out.

 That’s the only thing that makes sense. Some shit Kong got me into, but still–why does he want me to take this?  

 Pulling out my burner phone from my locked desk draw, I speed dial Kong to get a clear answer. Because at this point, I’m tired of the vague crap.

 “Fucking pick up. I know you’re not asleep…” I mutter to myself. Most likely the fucker is up and smoking cigarettes yet the line is still ringing. “You got to me kidd–”

 “Oh, fuck yes.” Did this… motherfucker really answer the phone while he’s balls deep in some woman? “Fushiguro–calling so late. Did you miss me?”

 “You couldn’t get your dick together before answering the phone?”

 He deeply sighs followed with a chuckle. “Can’t have my lover waiting for me.”

 “Cut the crap. It’s about the file. Get the girl out the room or go somewhere private you can talk,” I say firmly. 

 “Ah, so you’ve finally read it. You’re going to take it. Yeah?” 

 “Why’d you give me this shit? Who’s Chiaki Zen’in?” 

 I hear him light a cigarette and take a puff. “That’s not my family, Fushiguro. How the hell am I supposed to know?”

 “Because you gave this to me! Now I definitely feel like you’re trying to set me up.” 

 “Fushiguro, get your fucking head out your ass and use your brain for once. What benefit do I get for setting you up?”

 I shrug. “Money.”

 “Like I don’t have plenty. It actually hurts that you don’t trust me as Megumi’s godfather.” Again with the banter because I know Kong loves messing with me. 

 “Fuck off.”

 “And plus, I value my life. You’re a crazy son of a bitch. I know my place.”

 At least he knows. 

 He continues, “Look—I think you should take the contract. It might help you get the answers you’re looking for. You don’t have to kill the lady, but maybe she knows something about what actually happened to your wife.”

 I arched my brow. “And how would she know?”  

 “That’s why you fucking ask, genius. If Naoya overheard them talk, there’s a possibility she could’ve as well,” he says. “If she was a mistress, then they might’ve talked around her without realizing she’s listening. Take the contract, go find her, and get answers.”

 Kong does have a point. 

 Since that Zen’in fuck insinuated my old man had something to do with my late wife’s death, I’ve been losing sleep to do further digging, and have Kong do the same. 

 Asking my father or uncle directly won’t do anything because I know they’ll just lie. And quite frankly, if I ever see them again, I’d probably just beat them both to a pulp. So maybe seeing who this Chiaki Zen’in woman is would help me get the answers I need.

  The convenience of this contract is that it’s due in three months—around the time I’m flying to Tokyo. What an interesting fucking trip this will be.

 “Alright. I’ll take it.”

three weeks later…

 “Y/N, where… are… we?”

  Alright—when Y/N said to take the day off because we’re going on a date, never did I expect for her to take us to a Formula One track race. Especially to a race that I thought was fucking sold out. 

 And the craziness thing is—I never mentioned wanting to go, so how did she know? 

 Is this the fluffy shit they talk about in relationships? Remembering what your partner enjoys to make them happy? Because when it comes to Y/N, I’ll do whatever just to see that pretty smile on her face. 

 Just don’t expect that to happen to me, though. Simply ‘cuz I’ve never experienced it. But since I made Y/N mine a little over a month ago, she’s gotten me used to certain shit. 

 Dates. Skin to skin contact in bed. Fucking self care routine that involves this retinol concoction I still don’t understand but visibly see the difference it does to my face. 

 And to top it off, making videos together where we dress up in coordinating outfits before we go out. All of this shit is foreign to me, yet…it feels damn good. 

 For the first time in a while, life isn’t too bad. Me and Megs are pretty decent, and now my relationship with Y/N. . . I have nothing to complain about. 

 “We’re at a Formula One—” Before she got the chance to respond, I crashed my lips against her to show my fucking appreciation. Her stiff nature shows she’s shocked at my sudden kiss, but she immediately relaxes in my embrace and the moment I grip her ass. 

 Those soft moans always taste the sweetest when we’re out in public, and Y/N must’ve forgot I have a exhibitionism kink. 

 “I know where we’re at, Y/N.” I look into her eyes, hoping my own conveys how I feel at this moment. With how she’s smiling at me, I’m sure it does. 

 She’s so fucking pretty. Don’t think I’ll ever get over that. 

 “Easy, big guy. I see the look in your eyes,” she teases. “We have the whole day together.”

 I kiss her cheek before grabbing her hand to walk toward the stadium. “You’re wearing that tiny ass skirt around me and expect me to behave?”

 “Toji—I could be wearing a cheese suit and you’d still want to fuck me.”

 I throw my head back and chuckle. “Glad you know me, sweets.” 

 She nods with a smile. “I do.”

 “How’d you get these tickets anyways? Tried to get them myself and they fucking sold out in a minute.”

 “Your girl has some connections. Meaning, I know a guy.”

 I raise a brown in concern. “Hope it’s not any exes.”

 “No, baby,” she says through a giggle. “One of my students' older brothers, who I happened to be acquainted with, gave me his tickets.”

 “Willingly?”

 “You should know how charming I could be, Mr. Fushiguro.”

 I shake my head. “Trust me. I know.”

 She wraps her arms around mine and leans against me. “I’m excited, TJ. I’ve never been to a Formula One race before.”

 “They’re pretty cool. Just here to bet some money, though.”

 “Should I be surprised?”

 “Nope,” I responded with an exaggerated pop sound. 

 “Well, I’ll just be the pretty girlfriend who asks a thousand questions.”

 Being with Y/N is starting to feel like second nature to me. Her presence is so damn addicting and I know I’ll never grow tired of it. 

 Almost like if I keep spending time with her, these memories I’ve been having lately will start making sense. The shit is weird, and I don’t believe in anything… but I do believe in Y/N. I believe she’s it for me. And say if we don’t work out. . . Well, I’ll keep trying until we do. 

  Please, don’t leave me. That voice keeps echoing in my head, and I can’t help but think it’s Y/N. 

 I won’t, I respond internally. 

 “. . . Baby, you’re okay?” A soft, concerned voice overlaps my thoughts, reminding me I’m with Y/N.

 “Y-Yeah, my bad, sweets.”

 “You’ve been doing a lot of zoning out lately,” she says, brows slightly dipping. “You sure everything’s okay?”

 “Positive,” I lied, not wanting her to worry. 

 She looks like she doesn’t believe me, but decides to drop it, which I’m grateful for. “Okay,” she replies with a soft smile. 

 Eventually we found our seats just before the race and I find myself itching to place bets with the fuckers around me. Never can pass up an opportunity to make extra cash. 

 “. . . it’s round one of the Formula One season of . . .” The commentator blares throughout the stadium with intros of each racer and all the other shit they say before the race begins. 

 Courtesy of whoever this person gave Y/N the tickets, our seats are pretty damn good. But, of course, the best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me. 

 The best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me. Wow, how fucking corny did that sound? I’ve been turning into an all time sap ever since I’ve seen Y/N for the first time. It’s not like I give a damn. 

 Told myself I want to be better for her because quite frankly, a fucker like me doesn’t deserve a girl like Y/N. And it’s not like I’m trying to convince myself of it either, but I’m known to be the Zen’in fuck up. The unlovable child. The accident. . . 

 Why don’t you understand that I love you?

 Every time I even think for a second about all the fucked up shit my old man said to me, that familiar voice pops up in my mind. 

 However, I didn’t get a chance to think about it any longer. 

 Y/N’s plush lips were on mine, rewarding me with a kiss that brought me back to reality and rushed arousal to my cock. But still…it managed to be soft…longing…reassuring. . . The kiss put words in my mouth that felt weird for me to say. 

 It’s like she knew I was thinking about some shit that had me internally spiraling, though, rather than asking, she gave me a kiss that dispel any negative thoughts lingering inside of me. 

 “Hi, big guy.” Her voice is filled with tenderness, barely above a whisper when she looks at me with those eyes that say it’s okay. 

 Something I probably need to hear. 

 “So, how much do you usually bet on these games?” she asked, changing the topic from where my mind was. 

 “Depends, but Formula One races are usually filled with rich fuckers, so I bid higher.” 

 “. . . And this is the track we’re racing on today—fifty-eight laps. Three point two-eight miles per lap. . .”

 Thirty minutes later, and the race starts. But honestly, I barely gave a damn about the race or betting since I was more invested in listening to Y/N’s commentary. 

 If it wasn’t her being concerned about the drivers crashing into the mountain of tires, it was her telling me how hot I’d look in the driver’s gear. 

 Her words. Not mine. 

 Whenever I was into the race, yelling at the track like a maniac because I eventually placed bets, she was right there with me—shouting like she placed bets. 

 Where I was serious, she took it as race shit talking. 

 Couldn’t believe this, but I was actually having… fun. 

 Fun. 

 Fuck, that’s another word that feels weird to say. 

 It’s the truth, though. And it’s all because of Y/N. 

 Kind of wish the kid was here with us, but I haven’t grown balls big enough to tell him I’m with his reading teacher. Seeing how my mood is with  her, if I had him here, too, I knew I would be the cheesiest motherfucker in the world. 

 “Toji, be honest,” she starts, dragging me from my thoughts. “Do you actually ever win your bets?”

 “Fuck no.” And something about my answer had Y/N bursting into a fit of laughter. “Damn, didn’t know me losing money was that funny to you.” I acted like I was offended, but she knows I wasn’t. 

 “Because the driver we're rooting for is losing, baby.” 

 I shrugged. “Nothing wrong with an underdog.”

 “It is when you’re not profiting off the underdog in question,” she argues.

 “Fair point.”

 She sighs before standing up. “All this yelling has me needing the restroom, and I’m hungry. I’ll be right back.” She gets up, purposely stopping to where her ass levels with my face, and I know the exact shit she’s trying to pull. 

 “Okay, Y/N,” I simply say. 

 She giggles. “You want anything, babe?”

 I shook my head, but pulled out cash to give to Y/N before slapping her ass, earning a yelp and pervert, from her while watching her walk away. 

 Definitely fucking her when we get back home. 

 This day couldn’t get any better. From the bullshit at work to this contract Kong finally got me to sign weeks ago, I didn’t realize how much I needed a day of me and Y/N. 

 Seeing how our conversations have been lately, she probably knew something was up with me, which technically, there is. 

 Just haven’t had the chance to tell her. 

 Don’t know if I will.  

 I mean, how exactly do I fucking bring up my family possibly had something to do with my wife’s death, and I’m taking a contract to find out more? Not happening. 

 Can’t have her thinking I’m full of shit and been lying to her the entire time. Can’t risk Y/N freaking out and potentially calling the cops. Can’t risk…

 Losing her. 

 It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. Yeah, I talk down on myself and say how much I don’t deserve Y/N. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch. 

 Even when I know I shouldn’t have something (or in this case, someone) I’ll take it anyway. That’s just who I am. 

 A buzzing sound in my pocket gets on my fucking nerves and several missed calls and text messages from Kong. 

 

And besides, I didn’t feel the damn vibration until now. 

“What the…”  

 Here’s here. Here’s here. 

 Here’s here. Here’s here.

 Here’s here. Here’s here.

 I waste no time speed dialing Kong and maneuvering out the crowd to somewhere I can what the fuck is he talking about. 

 “Finally—”

 “Speak,” I cut him off after he answered the phone. “Now.” 

 “I’m at the bar near the condo I’m renting and some geezer comes up to me and tells me to give you his regards,” Kong explains. “I’m wondering who the fuck is he. Then, I realized he reminds me of someone. You, Fushiguro.”

 This has to  be some kind of sick twisted joke. 

 The kind I don’t find fucking funny. 

 Twenty years. I have seen that bastard in over twenty years, and somehow he reappears in the city I came to start a new life in. Of all places. 

 The first person that comes to mind is that Zen’in brat that was adamant about having to do shit when that family, and now all of a sudden my old man is fucking here. That little shit is his eyes. I knew I couldn’t trust that motherfucker for a reason. 

 Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how I feel. I’m furious. My blood burns with rage and at this moment, if anyone even looks at me wrong, I’ll bash their face in picturing my old man. 

 You unlovable child. 

 Your mother should’ve aborted you. 

 Go in the street and die. Like I care. 

 You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re— 

 “Fushiguro!” Kong yells. “Are you fucking listening?”

 No. 

 And it’s not like I can right now. 

 “Text me what you said. I have to go.” I hang up and throw my phone back in my pocket. I need to go. Now. I need to find—

 “Y/N.” 

 Shit, my head was so far up my ass, I forgot she went to the bathroom and concession stand. 

 I peek over to find our empty seats, leaving me to believe Y/N hasn’t come back yet. So my next move was to rush near the restrooms, asking different women who’s coming out did they see a beautiful, dark skin woman with the additional description I gave them.

 Some answered no, and others were too busy ogling like I would a fuck about their attention. 

 The concession stands were next, and it’s not helping that there’s damn near hundreds of them on this floor alone. 

 I know Y/N is fine. Probably just waiting in line to buy food. It’s just… I can’t be here right now. My lungs have grown tighter and it’s been harder to breathe since Kong told me about my old man being here. 

 I’m forty-two. It’s been a little over two decades. Shouldn’t be triggered by this shit anymore. I’ve forgotten. I don’t care. But that little weak boy inside of me is dripping out and reminding me that I’m still… not okay. 

 Maybe ‘cuz I’m worried about everything going good in my life now turning to complete shit the minute a Zen’in shows up around me. Specifically those two drunk fucks—my old man and his brother. 

 Y/N, where are you? 

 I’ve passed at least six concession stands already and still haven’t found her. Dammit, she probably got lost. I know this is her first time at a Formula One race, so she—

 Don’t fuck with me. 

 Don’t fuck with me. 

 Anger blurs my vision when I look across to see Y/N and my fucking old man—talking. Talking like they’re old friends. 

 My strides are long and hard while pushing through the crowd, not caring about the glares, scoffs, or complaints from the people I’m pushing out my way. All I care about is getting to Y/N and getting her the hell away from my old man. 

 As I close in on them, I’m able to hear their conversation. 

 “Are you single by chance? I have a son that you would be fantastic with,” he says. 

 She nervously giggles, but not in the way she usually does… she’s uncomfortable. “Oh, uhm, no. I have a boyfriend—”

 “Y/N!” I shout, causing her to turn around and look at me. The moment we lock eyes, relief floods her expression, confirming my observation of her being uncomfortable. 

 “Toji—” I pull her behind me to level with my father and grab him by his suit collar.

 Of course he’s the same coward as before because the moment I snatched him up, three fuckers dressed in black ran toward us to protect him, but he held his hand up to stop them in their tracks. 

 “What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth. I’m itching to kill him, and had it not been for us being in public or Y/N, no questions would’ve been asked.

 “My dear son. Is this how you greet your father after twenty years?” The mockery and condescending tone is his voice makes me want to rip out his fucking throat. “Also, I see you lack manners as usual. Did you not see me talking to this beautiful young woman?”

 “You have shit to talk about with her.”

 His brows raised in realization. “Overprotective over a woman? Is this your significant partner?”

 “Y–”

 “No,” I answered, cutting her off and instantly regretting it. I don’t need to look at Y/N to know confusion fills her face. “Answer my fucking question.”

 “Just making friendly conversation, is all. Am I not allowed to do that?”

 “I-”

 “Fushiguro,” Y/N interrupts. She catches me off guard by using my last name, but I guess it’s only fair since I denied she was my girlfriend. “Let’s go.”

 The silent plea in her eyes makes me wish I never allowed this piece shit to pull a reaction out of me. ‘Cuz by the looks of it, Y/N is scared… and it’s all because of me. 

 You’re worthless. Don’t ever come near this estate again. 

 These damn thoughts in my head will do everything in their power to skin me alive. I’ll just ignore them… like I always do. 

 Last thing I want, which she probably already does now, is to regret being mine. So I took her hand, ignored that fucker and his condescending voice, and rushed through the crowd again to get the hell out of here. 

 “Toji,” Y/N calls me, sounding worried. “Toji, wait. Was that your—”

 “Old man.” 

 My fucking old man. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

[munsonsmixtapes]

Wanna Bet?

tattoo artist!Eddie x fem!tattoo artist!reader

word count: 4.9k

cw: some suggestive language

not proofread!

Part Two

You stepped into your apartment and were immediately met by your cat, Binx. He rubbed his head against your leg and you reached down and scratched him right between his ears before heading into the bathroom. You flipped on the light and stood in front of the mirror, turning your arm to see your tattoo again. You still couldn’t believe how good it had turned out and knew that you were going to stare at in the mirror any chance you got.

Your mind drifted to Gareth and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the way things ended between the two of you. After he came over the night he did your tattoo, you ended up sleeping together that night only to decide that you would have been better off as friends, not having as much in common as you initially thought. You both thought that was the better option since neither of you saw a future together.

As if reading your mind, your cell phone dinged, signaling that you had a text. You pulled it out of your purse and sure enough, it was from an unknown number you could only assume was Gareth. Your heart raced as you opened it, terrified to see what he had said.

Hey darlin, miss me?

You weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t actually him. He had never called you that in the two weeks that you had known him. A wrong number perhaps?

Who is this?

A few seconds later, your phone pinged again.

Who do you think it is?

The only person you could think of was Gareth, but you already had his number saved so it definitely wasn’t him. You were hoping it was that guy you had met at the bar the other night.

Brad?

You crossed your fingers as your phone dinged again.

You wish

Another ping.

It’s Eddie

You threw your phone onto your couch and took a pillow from it then shoved your face into it, letting out a loud scream. Of fucking course the only guy texting you was the one you couldn’t stand. You had somehow run into the man everywhere you went and it was driving you crazy. He was always finding you, following you, showering you with his flirty words and you were sick of it. Once you had composed yourself, you took a deep breath and reached for your phone again.

How did you get this number?

All of the possible answers came to your mind but none of them were good. Couldn’t he get his own life and stop ruining yours?

Took it from Gareth’s phone when he wasn’t looking

You could picture him smirking while typing out those words and it made you sick.

Well, delete it.

As soon as you sent the message, your phone buzzed letting you know that you were receiving a call from that very number. What the fuck was he playing at? It was as if he was trying to drive you crazy. And you were letting him get to you, falling right into his trap.

You hit the button with the red phone printed on it and shoved your phone back into your pocket only to hear the buzzing again. You pulled it back out and accepted the call, pressing the phone to your ear.

“What?” You spit.

“Woah, sugar,” he let out a chuckle and both it and the nickname made your skin crawl. “Declining someone’s call sends the message that you don’t want to talk to them.” He had been bothering you and had the audacity to be offended that you didn’t want to talk to him? Just hearing his voice made you angry. It sounded so grating, like nails on a chalkboard.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You were telling the truth. You only picked up to put an end to the way he was treating you. You couldn’t take one more second of his teasing, wanting to finally put an end to it.

“Then why did you pick up?” You could hear the humor in his voice and desperately wished that you could reach through the phone and choke him out. Why did you always have the worst luck when it came to your love life? The men that you liked never liked you and the ones that did were always fucking creeps or walking red flags.

“To tell you to fuck off or I’m going to block you.” You liked the idea of holding the power to get rid of him for good. If he didn’t have your number and changed all your usual hangout spots, you could finally be free from him.

“Well, that isn’t very polite, is it?” Eddie wouldn’t know what polite was if it hit him over the head, but he just liked to screw with you so he’d tease you any chance he got.

“You’ve been tormenting me for over a week and I’m sick of your bullshit.” The man was everywhere, the grocery store you shopped at, the coffee shop you frequented, and even the bookstore you went to on occasion. It had gotten so bad that now his laughter was haunting your dreams. Because of him, you hadn’t been able to get a single moment of peace and quiet since you met the man.

“I wouldn’t call it torment.” He laughed again and your grip around your phone tightened as you let out a deep breath. That was what he wanted; to piss you off and you were offering him the exact reactions he wanted on a silver platter.

“Then what would you call it, Edward?” Eddie usually hated people using his full name, but hearing it fall from your lips did something to him. It made him feel some type of way, even if he wasn’t sure what way that was.

“Flirting.” You just scoffed at that. He definitely needed to improve his skills, then. How he actually got women into bed you’d never know.

“Then you clearly need to crack open a dictionary because that was not flirting.”

“Then what was it?” There was a knock on the door and you opened it, your friend Meg on the other side holding a bag filled with takeout from your favorite Chinese restaurant. You had been so caught up in your pointless conversation with Eddie that you had completely forgotten that you had invited her over.

“I don’t have time for this, I have things to do.” You let Meg inside and pointed to your phone, letting her know that you were speaking to someone and she put her pointer finger to her lips as she hurried inside, putting the food on your kitchen counter.

“Like what, dreaming about what I look like naked?” You pretended to throw up, making sure that he could hear you and Meg gave you a look, very interested in who you were talking to.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You scoffed. “Now lose this number or it won’t end well for you.”

“Oh, what are you going to do? Spank me? I think I might be into that.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the line went dead and Eddie threw his phone onto his desk, not being able to keep his laughter to himself. There was just something so funny about riling you up. He then spun in his chair, rising from it and heading towards the door of his office. He opened it and Gareth was on the other side. Eddie pushed past him and Gareth followed him out into the main area, wondering why he was so smiley. Eddie was never smiley.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked as the two of them exited the hallway, passing the receptionist’s desk. Eddie had been in such a good mood all week and he wanted to know why.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eddie let out a chuckle as he got to his station, making sure it was all nice and neat for his next client. Gareth sat in the chair that was next to Eddie’s station, leaning forward so the conversation could just be between the two of them.

“Is this about y/n? Why don’t you just give it up, Eddie? Clearly she’s not interested in you.” He wasn’t so sure about that. No woman had ever turned him down and he wasn’t going to let that start now. He was thinking about what it could do to his reputation and he didn’t like the possible outcome. He’d be damned if he let one rejection ruin everything he had built him up to be.

“And she’s not interested in you either, so I guess we’re both shit out of luck, huh?” Eddie shook his head, putting away his sketch paper and other things that littered the small desk. Eddie had heard through the grapevine that you had ended things with Gareth and he was just trying to make Gareth feel as bad as he did.

“You’re just mad because for once someone didn’t fall for your tricks.” That was the truth, but Eddie would die before he ever admitted that. He saw your rejection as a challenge to try harder and he’d do whatever he could to finally get into your pants.

“And you’re just mad because she didn’t choose you either.” Gareth actually wasn’t mad, especially since it was a mutual decision to not continue whatever was going on between the two of you. That was the difference. You had actually wanted him once upon a time and the same couldn’t have been said for Eddie.

“Well, you know what, at least I fucked her first, something that you’d know nothing about because finally someone’s able to see through your bullshit.” Gareth didn’t always have a temper, but when he did, he really knew how to hit Eddie where it hurt. “And guess what? She’s too good for you. She’s sweet and kind and actually cares about the people around her, something that’s clearly a foreign concept to you.”

Eddie felt his blood boil at that. There wasn’t a single lie in what Gareth had said and that was what pissed him off so much. He was just a selfish prick who didn’t have any regard for anyone’s feelings but his own. And that was clear by the way he was willing to destroy everyone and everything in his path to get what he wanted. At the end of the day, the only person Eddie wanted to be happy was Eddie.

“Fuck you, Gareth.” Eddie stood from the little desk, pointing a finger at him. He wasn’t going to let anyone insult him in his own building, not even his best friend.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you,” was all Gareth responded before standing up from the chair and heading over to his own station.

Eddie grumbled to himself as he finished prepping his station, trying to get himself out of his bad mood before his client showed up. He couldn’t believe that he was letting Garth’s stupid words get to him. Maybe there was truth to them, but he only said them because he was upset. He needed to remind himself who the fuvl he was. He was Eddie Munson, a god in the tattoo industry and people were willing to kill just to get a sliver of a chance to work with him. He was hot shit and women were lining up to sleep with him. Fuck Gareth. He had no idea what he was talking about.

Gareth watched Eddie out of the corner of his eye, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He wasn’t always like that; so selfish and rude. Once upon a time, the two of them had been best friends. But as soon as women were actually interested in him and he got a little taste of fame, he wasn’t the same guy that Gareth once knew. He was mean and seemed willing to whatever he saw fit, even if that meant hurting the people he cared most about.

—

“So, who was that?” Meg asked, as she pulled the containers out of the bag and set them on the counter. She had an idea of who it could have been by the way you were speaking, but she wanted to ask just to be sure.

“Nobody,” you waved it off as you grabbed some plates from one of the cabinets. You really didn’t want to talk about Eddie. You’d honestly prefer to talk about literally anything else.

“Was it that guy who you’ve been seeing everywhere?” After telling Meg about it, she had been invested in the whole thing, convinced that it had been fate. You weren’t so sure you believed in that sort of thing. This was just another one of the universe’s cruel jokes that was being played on you. That seemed to be all your life was these days: a joke.

“Yes.” You grabbed the container of fried rice and poured some onto your plate, trying to busy your mind. You were already growing tired of the conversation.

“What was his name again?” You were thinking of all the nicknames you had created for him over the past week, but those had just been an inside joke you’d keep to yourself since you were the only one who would have thought they were funny.

“Eddie.” The name tasted like poison in your mouth anytime you said it and you were desperate to gargle something to remove the heavy feeling from your tongue.

“I don’t see what the problem is, y/n. He’s cute, you should go out with him.” Meg just didn’t understand. Eddie wasn’t actually interested in you, he just wanted to prove that you were into him. The whole thing was a game to him and you weren’t going to play. Maybe that kind of thing worked on other women, but it wasn’t going to work on you.

“You know what else is cute? A dog. And you don’t see me going out with them, do you?” You both served yourselves from the containers then grabbed some beers from your fridge before heading over to your kitchen table to eat. All of the arguing with Eddie caused you to work up an appetite.

“You’re cranky,” she glared. She had never seen you like that so clearly it was bothering you. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just go out with him. It would have just taken one date and then he would’ve been out of your hair for good.

“I’m sorry. He’s just driving me crazy.” That much was obvious by the way you were behaving. You just wanted him to leave you alone, but apparently that was too much to ask.

“Let me get this straight; a gorgeous man has been dropped into your lap and you're not going to hit that?” Yes, exactly. Sure, maybe Eddie was gorgeous, but his terrible personality automatically made him unattractive.

“No? Haven’t you been listening? He doesn’t even want to sleep with me. He’s just trying to prove that I want him.” You picked up a piece of sesame chicken with your chopsticks and popped it into your mouth. You then looked back up at Meg and her face lit up as if a light bulb had gone off in her head.

“Maybe you could beat him at his own game,” she suggested with a shrug. You had no idea what she was getting at and waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you took a sip from your beer. Meg set her chopsticks down on her plate then turned fully to face you. She had her mischievous look on her face and you were unsure if you were going to like what she was going to say.

“You turn the tables, play an Uno reverse card, if you will.” Your face lit up as you realized what he was hinting at. Of course! You were surprised you didn’t think of it yourself. The answer had been right in front of you all along, but you had been too blinded by your rage to see it.

“Meg, you’re a genius!” You pulled her into a hug as best you could since you were both sitting. She wrapped her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze before letting go.

“I do know what I’m talking about sometimes, y/n.” She turned back in her chair and took another sip from her beer. The ears started turning in your head as you thought about all of the ways you could have messed with Eddie. Giving him a taste of his own medicine sounded so fun.

—

The next morning, you texted Eddie and asked him to meet you at the arcade in town. The first phase of your plan had commenced and you hoped you could convince him that you were actually interested in him. Part of you felt bad for messing with his head until you remembered just how much joy he got fucking with you. He deserved to be shown what it felt like.

You spotted Eddie entering the arcade and applied some more of your lipgloss and fixed your hair before waving him over. He was dressed in a jean jacket over a faded band tee and a pair of baggy jeans which was more toned down than what you usually saw him in, but the look worked for him.

Eddie approached you and you held your arms out for a hug. He quickly pulled you in and you were surprised that his hand stayed at your back, not even trying to move further south like you had imagined. Not that you were imagining it.

He was unsure as to why you asked him to hangout, but he sure all hell wasn’t going to question it. He assumed you just had a change of heart considering that a few days prior, if he had been on fire and you had a glass of water, you would have drank it.

He was just happy to be there with you, willing to do whatever you wanted. And he loved arcades, so it was a win-win. He had spent so much time at the one back home, trying his best to get his name onto every leaderboard.

“You, know, I’m kind of surprised you invited me to hang out,” he said, letting go of you, letting his arms fall back by his side.

“You wore me down,” you let out a sigh. “I guess I just fell for your charms.” More like you were just trying to put an end to them.

“They always do,” he draped an arm over your shoulders and yours went to his waist as you led him over to your favorite game.

You stood in front of the machine and Eddie just let out a laugh as he saw what it was. You rolled your eyes and put in a few quarters, waiting for the game to boot up.

“Pac-Man, really?” He scoffed.

“Yes, really. If you don’t like it, you can leave.” Once the game booted up, you began to play and even though he had made fun of you, he had to admit you were really good. In only five minutes, you were able to get through ten levels.

He stood by and watched, mesmerized by the way your fingers moved as you stared at the screen, like you had memorized every single movement. He assumed that you must have played it multiple times to be so good at it.

Eddie moved to stand behind you, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck. It sent a chill down your spine and you were so focused on his close proximity that you weren’t paying attention, causing your little guy to get eaten. You turned around, not able to ignore how good he smelled, but stood your ground, giving him a glare.

“What’s wrong, sweet thing?” His hands rubbed your arms sympathetically. “Sad you lost?” He jutted out his bottom lip and you could practically feel it between your teeth as he let out a whimper as you bit down on it.

“You did that on purpose!” You pushed his hands off of you, pointing at him.

“I did no such thing,” he put his hand up to his chest in feigned offense.

“Come here.” You grabbed him by the wrists and pulled him over to a photo booth that was only a few feet away.

“Oh, looking for somewhere a little more private? I see you.”

“Get in,” you held open the curtain and Eddie moved slowly to get into the booth. “Go,” you gave him a shove and he eventually got all the way inside.

“Bossy,” he grumbled, sitting down on the bench. You got in after him and sat down before closing the curtain that was next to you.

“What?” He gave you a pointed look. You knew you were supposed to be beating him at his own game, but you couldn’t last. You were throwing in the towel after barely a few flirty lines and were beating yourself over it. Whatever. At least you tried.

“Stop fucking around,” you gave his shoulder a shove. “I’m getting real tired of your shit, Munson.”

“And what shit are you tired of, sweet thing?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“I guess I’m going to have to spell it out for you so your pea sized brain can comprehend it.” Honestly, Eddie kind of liked seeing you like that.

“Lay it on me, doll.” He was looking at you so dreamily and you were hating that he was able to tug on your heart.

“I don’t like you,” you glared.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “Go on.”

“Do you have any regard for anyone but yourself?” Eddie laughed at that. He didn’t think it was possible to care about anyone other than himself. It was better that way.

“No,” he chuckled, with a shake of his head.

“Thoughts so.” Of course that was his answer. He was the most selfish person you had ever met.

“What’s got your panties in a twist, sugar?” He leaned back, fighting back the grin that was trying to come out on his face.

“You call women those nicknames because you can’t remember their actual names.” That was true, but he had remembered yours. He hadn’t forgotten it since the day he met you and swore that he would never forget it.

“I know your name, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s like you have no faith in me.”

“I don’t. Now stop fucking with me or I swear I’m going to make sure you can never walk again because your dick is so fucked up.” His cheeks flushed at your comment and he could feel his cock getting hard.

“That’s hot.” His eyes darkened as he said the words and you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at his behavior. Your insults seemed to only make him want you even more.

“Are you actually turned on by this right now?” You were constantly surprised by how much this man seemed to catch you off guard with his words. He always had something out of pocket to say.

“Depends,” he shrugged before leaning forward. “Why don’t you feel my cock to find out?” He winked and you hated how you kind of wanted to take him up on his offer.

“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed.

“You love it.” You actually sort of did, but you’d never admit that to him. You’d die before you let that happen.

“I wouldn’t touch your cock with a ten foot pole.” You couldn’t give in just yet. Just one more flirty response and you were sure that you’d want to plant one on him right there in the photo booth.

“That’s fine,” he scooted even closer to you. “You’d be surprised what I could do with just my tongue.” You could feel yourself getting wet just thinking about it; his lips on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, roaming around, making sure that he had tasted every single inch of it.

“Your ego is a little big, isn’t it?” It definitely was, but it had taken him so long to build up his self esteem so he wasn't going to let you get to him.

“It’s not the only thing that’s big,” he winked. “And you wouldn’t be saying that with my head between your thighs.” You could just picture it and now your underwear was more than damp. How were you going to keep it up if he was able to reel you in so easily.

“Believe me, your head will never be between my thighs.” Maybe they could be with just a little more convincing. One bat of his lashes and you’d be in his lap, your lips on his.

“You wanna bet?” You were convinced that you had accidentally ordered an alcoholic drink because you would’ve had to be drunk in order to think that anything he was suggesting was a good idea.

“Absolutely not,” you scoffed.

“Afraid you’re gonna lose?” He leaned closer, your faces so close that you could feel his breath hitting your cheeks.

“I’m not afraid of anything.” You leaned even closer, your lips ghosting over his before you leaned back, not wanting to give in just yet.

“I like that in a woman. Does that mean you’re willing to get freaky?” You were more than willing and wondered just how freaky he’d like to get.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But not with you.” You were getting even more angry that you were imagining all the things you could’ve gotten up to between the sheets.

“Alright, how about this? If you fall for my charms after a month, I win, but if you don’t, you win. Winner gets to give the loser a tattoo of their choice.” That actually sounded very intriguing to you. You liked the idea of something you designed being on Eddie’s body.

“That could be interesting.” You crossed your arms over your chest, a smile appearing on your face as you came up with sketches in your head.

“So you agree?”

“Sure. So which arm do you want the hairy dick on?” He let out a genuine laugh at that and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s not get too cocky, sweet thing,” he patted your shoulder. “You haven’t won yet.”

“Key word being ‘yet’ because I’m so going to kick your ass.”

What you didn’t know was that Eddie would have let you win pretty easily if it meant that he got to see your smile. Maybe he was taking it all too far, but just loved the way your face scrunched up in that cute way in response to one of his lines. And the way it was so easy to irritate you and get under your skin.

“You really need to stop being so mean to me, it’s making me hard.” You looked down and saw that he wasn’t lying by the proof that was the tent in his pants. You felt yourself wanting to unbutton his jeans and give him a handy then immediately shook the thought out of your head, giving him one last glare before exiting the booth.

Eddie removed his jacket and covered his boner before following you, trying to catch you before you left. He really needed to win the bet. He never went down without a fight.

He followed you out into the parking lot, picking up the pace to catch with you because damn did you walk fast. He fell into step with you and you rifled through your purse to find your keys.

You had had enough of Eddie and his shit for the day, deciding that it was time for the two of you to go your separate ways. And besides, you had tattoos to sketch because there was no way that he was going to win with how stubborn you were.

You got to your car, Eddie hot on your heels. He moved to stand in front of the driver’s side and leaned against it, making sure his jacket was still covering his front. You were surprised that he hadn’t been embarrassed by it at all. In fact, it almost seemed used to it, as if it had been a normal thing for him.

“Can you please move?” You crossed your arms over your chest. Maybe this bet wouldn’t be as hard as you thought with how immature he seemed to be.

“Nope. I’m actually pretty comfortable.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness then unlocked the car, moving around to the opposite side. You opened the passenger side door and got inside before closing the door. You then climbed over the center console and slid into the driver’s seat before putting the keys into the ignition and starting it up. Eddie whipped around and gestured for you to roll down the window. You flipped him off in response and gave him enough time to move before pulling out of the parking space.

He watched you drive away for the second time and couldn't believe that you still hadn’t wanted to go out with him after all the things he had said. He was running out of lines and patience. If he was going to win, he was going to have to do something drastic. Something so unlike him. Unrecognizable. He was going to have to pull out the big guns, even though he wasn’t sure what they were. He was willing to do whatever it took to have you be the one under the tattoo gun.

[maledistributionsystem]

I love you black men. I love being a black man. I love redefining what black manhood means for me, and rejecting the idea that it's incongruent with queerness or emotionalism. I love being a black man who loves myself and my wife wholeheartedly. I love being a black man whose weird and nerdy and autistic and mentally ill because i never saw black men like me growing up. I love being a black man because my father introduces me as his son and he is so proud of me. I love being a black man, because this is who i am and it cannot be taken from me. I love black men so much. black men have my whole fuckin' gay ass heart. I love my brothers.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 

That was where his troubles began. 

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 

“Depends. Do you like it?” 

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 

Fucking disgusting. 

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.” 

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 

“I’m not a doctor yet.” 

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 

“Like me.” 

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 

He should leave. 

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 

He should leave. 

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 

“J-Joel?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 

“Touch me!” 

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 

“Any man?” 

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 

“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 

“Be a good girl from now.” 

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

[mrsbarnesblog]

Tattoo

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Tattoo Artist! Bucky Barnes x Bookshop Owner!Reader

Summary: When Natasha begged you to come with her to get her new tattoo done, you didn't expect that her actual plan would be to set you up with a fine-as-hell tattoo artist.

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, p in v sex, oral sex (r receiving), protected sex, dirty talk, strangers to lovers, Bucky is hot as fuck, shy and socially awkward reader, insecurities.

Author's note: sooo, it took me forever to write, but I finally finished it and I'm kind of proud of this one. Bucky with tattoos and a low bun? yup, I'm totally ready to do whatever he desires! I hope y'all will like it too. feel free to leave comments or fic ideas💘

“I’m going to be there almost for a whole day. I love those idiots, but I still need my best friend to cheer me up." Natasha threw her hand over your shoulders, trying to convince you to go with her on a tattoo session. It was not her first time, but now she wanted to get a much bigger one on her thigh, and, for some reason, she really wanted you to go with her, using the fact that it was your day off. 

“Nat, you know that I hate going to such places. I’m socially awkward; what am I gonna do there for so long? I don’t even know those people.” You frowned, already feeling a bundle of nerves in your stomach. 

You were what others may call boring, but you rarely went to unknown places or hung out with random people. You would rather stay with a book in your apartment and read for a whole day than get into such situations. Not to mention, that tattoo salon was full of men, and it made the whole situation even worse. 

“But you’re going to be with me. They are the nice guys, I promise. You will sit with us in the room; we can talk, or you can read another book, while Barnes will do my tattoo. I just don’t want to die of boredom there. Please?” She pulled you even closer, and you knew that she wouldn’t let that go. So you had no other choice but to agree. 

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you decided that wearing a light, flowy dress would be a good idea. Because now, following Nat out of her car to that tattoo studio, it felt too short, too open, and just too much. You tried to calm down, thinking to yourself that there was nothing serious; you were just going to wait in the corner, and other people probably wouldn’t even pay attention or talk to you. Natasha, with her boldness and openness, was always the center, and you were totally fine with that. 

But you were so wrong. 

As soon as you walked inside, four men stopped talking, turning around to face you and Nat, and you honestly thought that you were going to faint. 

“Hey, guys. Hope you don’t mind that I brought my friend. So I do not have to listen to your boring asses complain all day." She teased, dragging you by the hand like a mom who tried to encourage her kid to talk. You were round-eyed, and a wave of heat washed over your body when you were face-to-face with a blonde and big guy. But before either of you could say or do something, a person who you didn’t recognise at first stepped in, pulling you into a hug. 

“Isn’t it my favorite book girly ever? How are you doin’?” Sam’s enthusiasm and energy were always so refreshing to you, so when he quickly pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pushing you further into a studio, you tried to stay calm and not freak out.

"I didn't know that you were working here. How’s Sarah?” You asked, looking up at him. 

“Yup, for a few years. She is doing great, but AJ and Cass are a pain in the ass. They are growing too quickly, you know." He chuckled. “Now, say hi to those idiots.” He moved his head toward the men who were silently observing your interaction. “Tony, Steve, and Bucky.” Sam named them in order. Tony just nodded to you, Steve smiled with the friendliest smile you had ever seen, and Bucky... 

Your head became empty as soon as your eyes landed on him for the first time. He was leaning on the wall at the back of the room, so you didn’t pay much attention to him at first. He was hot. Unbelievebly hot. He was tall and muscular, with a low bun at the back of his head and tattoos covering the visible parts of his arms and neck. And as your gaze moved to his face, you almost choked on a fucking breath. 

Piercing blue eyes looked right directly at you, and the slightest smirk curled the corner of his lips. You didn’t know whether you felt too cold, too hot, or if you just wanted to vanish right on the spot. Your face heated, your eyes started running around the room, and your heart was beating a few times faster. It was overwhelming, and you thought that you would have to go out of there, but right on time, Natasha stepped in front of you, dragging all attention to herself. 

Bucky had to admit that once in his life, Sam was right. Sam tried to convince Bucky to go to that book shop for a few months, saying that he had to meet with the girl who worked there, but he was way too stubborn. 

He would have done it a long time ago if he knew you would look like the most precious, cute, and sweet person. Bucky could not take his gaze away from you as soon as Natasha dragged you inside, absorbing everything—from the way you looked so soft and pretty in that dress to the way you blushed and were nervous about the whole thing. 

He saw your reaction—how you became even more flushed after your intense stares at each other. Bucky was never the type of guy who liked to tease you, but Goddammit, he wanted to see how you would react if he stepped closer and talked to you. He also wasn’t creepy towards women, but the only thought that came to his mind was that he wanted to taste you. The desire to shove your back into the wall, lift up the skirt of your dress, and fall to his knees was shocking; he had never felt such an instant pull toward another person. 

“Barnes, are we going to start, or you’re planning on standing and staring for a whole day?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest as if she were annoyed, but you thought that you heard something weird in her voice, as if she held back a smile. 

And then she quickly looked back at Sam and nodded with a smirk. 

You just followed Nat and Bucky to his own part of the studio. Too lost in your head because of your friend’s weird behavior, you sat down on the sofa in the corner, and the next thing you noticed was the tall figure leaning above you. You probably got carried away to much because now there was a cup of tea standing in front of you on the table.

You looked up, only to meet those pretty blue eyes again. Bucky looked down at you with the same smirk on his lips, and you could barely form a normal thought in your head. 

“Hope you don’t mind a hot tea, princess?” Yup, you were dead. Of course, he had to have the sexiest voice you have ever heard in your life. It was not enough for him to be charming or look like a fucking sin—he also had to sound hot. 

“Thank you.” You almost whispered. 

Bucky gave you another mysterious smile before going back to his place, where Nat was already without her pants and ready to start.

You and Nat were talking for the next few hours—well, she was mostly talking about a girl named Maria that she met not so long ago, and you were nodding, listening, and sipping your tea. That way, you almost forgot about Bucky sitting in the room with you because he was too focused on his job and didn’t even look away from the tattoo. 

To be honest, you accidentally looked at him one or two times because it was hard not to notice a few curls slipping out of his bun, or the way his tattooed and veiny arms seemed so sexy, or that perfect face profile... Fuck. But everything was good until Nat suddenly asked him to stop for a few minutes. 

“I really need to pee, Barnes.” She quickly jumped out of her place, winking at you as she walked away. 

“Natasha…” You hissed at her when she left you and Bucky alone in the room, your insides already shivering with nerves. She was fucking doing it on purpose. You were sure that everything here was her plan to set you up with Bucky because she had never left you anywhere alone, knowing your nervousness. 

“Are you afraid to stay with me alone?” Bucky chuckled, stretching his neck from an uncomfortable position. Your cheeks heated, and you unconsciously started scratching the surface of your phone case. He was charming. He obviously knew that, judging by the way he acted to tease you. When his question was left without an answer, he just shook his head, smiling to himself. “I didn’t know that Nat was dating girls.”

Bucky was desperately trying to make you talk. He saw how you looked at your friend when she left you alone with him, and knowing Nat, she would not have done it if you were truly afraid of him. So he was hoping that you were just too shy to talk to him and that he could make something out of it.

“Mhm. What, you hoped to have a chance with her?” You finally looked up, and you couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice. Of course, Bucky was just trying to hit on your friend. Everyone tried. And you knew that she was so pretty and an amazing person, really, but you just wanted to experience it yourself at least once.

“With Nat?” Bucky almost laughed, genuinely taken aback by your response. “Nah, she’s cool, but not my type.”

“And who is your type?” You asked before you could even think about it. 

"You know, those cute and shy girls who can barely talk to anyone and easily blush or get nervous." You froze in your place, and you swore that the blood in your veins had done the same. Your eyes widened in shock, looking at the proudly smirking Bucky. Did he really mean that, or was it just a stupid joke? 

Natasha came into the room, curiously looking between you two, but you just stayed silent and looked away again, staying even quieter until the end of the session. 

“Why did you do that?” You frowned, looking away from Nat and crossing your arms over your chest. As soon as she was done, you almost ran out of that place, the mixture of weird feelings bubbling inside of you, and you were too frustrated to even talk to someone there. 

“Did what?” Your head snapped back at her innocent, unbothered voice. She rolled her eyes, not looking away from the road. “I did that because I love you.” 

“And I love you too, but I hate that you and Sam put me in this position!”

“I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. Don’t be mad at what I’m about to say, but I know that you feel lonely and that you want to have someone or to date someone. I understand your anxiety; I really do, but I wanted to help you.” Her voice sounded so genuine, and even if you were mad, you knew that Nat had always tried to do what was best for you. “Bucky is a good guy. He’s attractive, he’s kind, he’s funny, and he's definitely not a player. I just wanted you to meet him, and from what I saw, there was a sparkle between you.”

You didn’t say anything to that, because she was totally right. Even if you had never said that out loud, you wanted someone to like you. Was it that much to ask? It was just hard to believe that someone as attractive as Bucky, who could easily get a good handful of women whenever he wanted to, had actually flirted with you. 

The next day, when you finally returned to your favorite place in the world, it was crazy. For some reason, too many people came to the bookshop, and almost everyone needed your advice or help. You were running around the shelves, putting the books in their places, receiving the payment, and then welcoming new customers. So when, at 9 p.m., you put the sign ‘closed’ on the door, you felt the relief that the day was almost over. 

You still had a lot to do, though. Taking the pile of books from the front table, you went to the back room, where you stored some of them. Suddenly, you heard the bell ringing and heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. 

“I’m sorry, but we are already closed. Please come tomor—” You forgot what you wanted to say when you looked out of the room into the main part of the store and saw the last person you ever expected. 

“Hey, princess.” Bucky put his hands into the front pockets, which made him seem even bigger, and smiled at you in a way that made your knees weak. He looked similar to what you saw yesterday—a low bun, black jeans, and a shirt that revealed some of his tattoos. God, his tattoos made you imagine things that were too inappropriate to say out loud. “Sorry that I came so late, but I just got off work, and I really wanted to see the place Sam has been bugging me about for weeks.” He noticed how you were looking at him again, but he decided not to tease you about it. 

“Um, hi.” You dusted off your hands and fixed the bottom part of your dress to make sure that everything was in it’s place. Bucky couldn’t help but follow your hands, staring at the way the hem of your dress moved around your thighs. “Do you need something? Like a book? Or you came just to get rid of Sam?”

“Yeah, maybe a fantasy book or something like that.” 

“I can show you where we have it, but I, um, need to finish the work here, so it would be great if you'd find a book that you like by yourself. Is that okay?” His stare was intense, and you really didn’t know what to do with this. Was he always like that with women? But Nat said that he wasn’t a player, and you trusted her more than yourself.

“Totally.” You nodded, calmed down your nerves as much as you could to not embarrass yourself in front of him, and you showed the way to the shelves at the back of the shop. 

“Take as much time as you need; I’ll go... there.” You pointed behind you to the piles of books, and Bucky chuckled at the way you were nervous around him. That was so fucking cute that he wanted to just scoop you up in his arms and make you blush again and again. 

Almost ten minutes later, you showed up again with a few books in your hands that were from the fantasy section, and as much as you wanted to escape Bucky, you also wanted to finish your job. He just quickly looked at you, too interested in the book in his hands, but didn’t say anything. 

You tried to reach the highest shelf to put the book in it’s place, but it was too far away. Usually you used a small ladder, but it was somewhere else now, and you just tried to do it standing on the tiptoes. 

“Let me do it, princess.” Bucky chuckled, closing his book and putting it down, and reached out to help you.

“No!”

“You won’t reach it. Just give it to me.” He placed his hand on your back, stretching the other one. 

“I can do it myself!” 

You couldn’t. Because the next thing you know, the book slipped out of your hand when you tried to make more distance between you and Bucky, and you also lost control of the ones you held near your chest. Everything fell onto the floor with a loud ‘boom’ and you prayed that nothing got damaged. 

Your head snapped back to say to Bucky that it was his fault, but he was already looking down at you, and you immediately forgot about everything. Only then did you realize that he was so close to you; his hand was holding your waist, and your back was almost pressed against his hard chest. 

“Sorry.” He didn’t know what he was sorry for. That he distracted you and made you drop everything, or for what he did next. After his eyes quickly looked at your plump lips, his right hand fell onto your cheek, and he kissed you.

Your instant thought was to push him away, run, and hide in the storage room, but the firm hand on your face and waist made it impossible to move. Bucky almost devoured your mouth and completely controlled you, and you could barely keep up with the rhythm of the kiss. 

He was good at it. 

No one ever kissed you as if it were the best thing they'd ever tried, but Bucky just couldn’t stop. He spined your body, so you were not in that awkward and uncomfortable position anymore. Now that you were standing chest to chest, your back got pressed into the shelves, and Bucky was towering over you. It felt unknown but so right at the same time. Your experience in this area was really poor, but the adrenalin in your blood made you a little bit more sure of yourself. 

“You’re doing something to me.” He breathed into the kiss, and you just whined without realizing it. He connected your lips again, tightening his hands on your waste and, that way, pulling you even closer. You had no idea where to put your hands, but your body seemed to work on autopilot, so they landed on his chest.

You felt something hard on the lower part of your belly, and the thought that Bucky had become hard solely because of the kiss nearly drove you insane. Hot, handsome, and charming men had never kissed you as if you were their last meal, teasing you with their bulge in the middle of your shop. 

God, he must be big. 

Your heart started beating so fast that you heard it in your ears. Was it the right thing to do? What should you do or say after that? Did he think that you kissed badly? 

“I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Why are you worrying? You don’t like or want it? Just say, and I’ll step away.” You licked your lips, as if you tried to taste him again. You felt how your face heated again from being so close to Bucky. He didn’t sound or look as if he were judging you, and it made you feel safe enough to tell what was going on in your head.

“I just—I'm not really familiar with it. I barely know you, and you just kissed me, and I am at a loss for what to do." You said, nervously playing with the material of his shirt. Bucky's hand cupped your cheek, making you look at him. It surprised you that he didn’t try to do anything to push you, like many other men who just think with their dicks. Your stomach tightened from the way he stared at your face.

"I understand and that’s okay if you feel a little bit scared. I’m not pushing you and you can say no to me. I really came here just to talk to you, but I cannot think of anything else but you. Can I kiss you, princess?” Your eyes closed when you felt his breath on your lips again. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it too, so you just slightly nodded to his question. 

Bucky kissed you deeper and slower, allowing you to follow him. He stroked your cheek gently as his tongue slid into your mouth, causing you to moan. You swore that he smiled at your reaction, and it encouraged him to push his other hand from your waist to your thighs. 

Your skin started tingling when you felt it going under your skirt. Tattooed fingers traced the soft lines on your legs until they reached your underwear. Only then did you realise that you were getting wet. This whole time, it was not just nerves; oh no, your body actually just craved that man in front of you and now you could do nothing to hide it. In your last attempt, you tried to push your legs together, but you made it worse when Bucky’s hand slipped higher and touched the wet spot. 

“Holy fuck.” He growled, ending the kiss and looking down, where his hand stayed under your clothes. “You are not so innocent, huh?” 

“Shy and innocent are two completely different things, Bucky.” 

“Right.” Biting his lip, he looked up at you again with darkened eyes, and you felt his hand pressing onto your dressed core more firmly. “Can I taste you?"

Your eyes widen in shock. You were not a complete virgin, but unfortunately, you had never experienced that before. “My sexual life is actually really, and I mean really, meager, and no one ever asked me to do it.” You whispered, almost in embarrassment. 

“So you’re telling me that no one asked to eat you out, princess? Well, that’s a shame. I bet your pussy is as sweet as you are.” He ran his nose across your cheek, enjoying your delicate skin and the light scent of your perfume, until he reached the sensitive part of your neck. “Your scent drives me crazy... You’re so sensitive, God. When was the last time you were with someone?” You tried to act normal and not shiever, but when Bucky’s finger was running up and down the soft cotton of your panties, it was nearly impossible to do. 

“I don’t know. I did it just a few times, and I don’t date. Guys are not really interested in me.”

“Loosers.” 

“Bucky.” You moaned his name when he suddenly fell to his knees. That view was so surreal for you. He seemed desperate to touch and taste you, to please you, even though he was painfully hard in his jeans. But he did not go too far because he was waiting for your response. “What if someone walks in?”

“There is a sign on the door. Are there many people who go to bookshops at that time?” Bucky took your left leg, slowly putting it on his shoulder. Your eyes followed every move with curiosity and a hint of worry when he turned his head to softly kiss your thigh.

“Okay.”

Bucky took your leg off his shoulder but only to slide his hands under your dress and take off your underwear. He did not break eye contact when he helped you step out of it and then put them in his jeans pocket. With a quick motion, your leg returned to it’s place near his face and you blushed, realising how close he was.

With his right hand on your thigh and the left one slowly creeping up your other leg, Bucky started leaving kisses higher and higher, until he finally reached your pulled-up dress. When his head suddenly lowered and you felt the first touch of his tongue, you almost died. 

Up until that moment, you didn’t even realize how tense your body was, but that first lick sent a hot wave over you and you could not hold back a whine. You just became a fucking puddle under his touch. 

Bucky was not much better than you. He gripped your thigh harder, as if he wanted you to be even closer, and moaned when your taste blossomed on his tongue. He knew that he was addicted now and that he could spend hours in between your legs. His tongue slipped across your folds, collecting your juice, and then circled around your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, princess. You’re s’ sweet.” 

"Bucky—oh my god, please!” You didn’t know what you were begging for, but that tight knot in your stomach was becoming almost too painful, and you felt tears forming in your eyes. As if Bucky had already understood your body better, he put two fingers of his left hand at your entrance, slightly pushing in just the tips. 

You moaned again, your hand moving on it’s own and grabbing Bucky’s hair in despair. He slowly slipped inside, letting you adjust while still not stopping the movements of his tongue. You felt so fucking tight and wet around his fingers and his cock painfully twiched in his jeans. He started pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, and if you weren’t so far up in your head, you would’ve been embarrassed by the noises coming out of you. 

The combination of his thick digits and tongue pushed you into your first orgasm. Your back arched, and your legs unconsciously tried to close, but Bucky did not let that happen, gripping your thigh tighter and holding you in place. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. C'mon, don’t be shy.” He encouraged you and that was everything you needed. 

You had no idea what happened next because your body felt like it was floating and your head fell back with a moan of Bucky's name. He let you go through it, slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers. As much as he didn’t want to stop, he knew that it was enough for you for the first time. 

You felt how Bucky jently lowered your leg and then, holding you by the waist, stood up and shamelessly licked his shiny lips. “I can’t believe you actually just did that. No one has ever given me an orgasm.” 

“Princess… You’re unbelievable.” He got closer to you, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. You could feel hardness in his pants, and while Bucky did not try to push it any further, the desire within you made you bold. 

“Do you have a condom?” Bucky immediately pulled away from you, his eyes darker than before and his hands tightening on your waist. You bit your lip and lowered your gaze, as if you said something wrong. 

"No, no, no, you can’t get shy after you just asked me this. Eyes on me, princess. Do you really want it?" 

“I do.” 

Bucky connected your lips, distracting you from unnecessary thoughts, and you felt two hands on the back sides of your thighs. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist, as if your body knew what to do better than you. You both moaned when his bulge met with your dripping core; Bucky’s grip tightened and he slightly moved your hips. 

Firmly holding you in his hands, Bucky stepped away from the shelves and went to the table that was standing nearby. He blindly moved aside some books there, dropping a few on the floor and receiving a groan from you. He put you on the flat surface, not moving away from between your legs. 

Your hands finally felt more confident to study his tattooed skin. You never realised that you were into people with tattoos, but now, looking at the variety of things covering his tanned skin, your belly tightened with anticipation. Your hands slowly reached his neck, slightly pulling him closer. 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you have it?” Instead of replying to you, Bucky, not breaking eye contact, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He opened it, taking the shiny square that was sticking out of there. 

Your eyes shot up at him, meeting his half-hooded and full-of-lust eyes. Bucky looked right back at you, mesmerized by your beauty—by the way your cheeks heated and your lips were slightly swollen. He quickly unbuttoned his pants, sliding them with boxers down his legs, until his hard as rock cock was free with pre-cum leaking from the tip. 

“If you’re going to look at me like that, then I might cum like a teenager before everything starts, princess.” Bucky growled, squeezing your thigh in his hand. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, then looked at his face again. You didn’t want to stare at his cock, but holy shit, it was better and bigger than everything you’ve seen before. You wondered what it would taste like, and that one thought made you clench around nothing. 

With a quick, smooth motion, Bucky opened the package with his teeth, sliding the condom down his shaft. His hand moved you closer to the edge of the table, so now your faces were just a few centimeters away and you could feel his cock through the fabric of your dress. 

“Be a good girl and hold it here for me.” Bucky folded your dress on your stomach, guiding your hand there, so he had better access to your sweet pussy. He had to see how he was disappearing inside of you with his own fucking eyes.  

“Bucky…” You whined because of the way you were exposed to him, but you still did what he said. With wide eyes, you looked at how he moved even closer to you, slightly brushing your folds with the tip. Your free arm gripped his tattooed forearm, digging in your nails. 

“So wet for me, so pretty... God, princess. I won’t be able to keep my hands from you. Say you want this. I need to hear it.” He palmed the side of your face, making you look up at him, and held himself at your entrance at the same time. 

“I want it. Please.” You whispered, your eyes running back and forth between his pretty blues. 

When he finally started slowly pushing into you, your mouth opened with a silent moan, and your eyes almost crossed with the way your whole body got covered with goosebumps. Bucky could not tear his eyes away from the place you two were connected. He felt every movement of your body and felt how your pussy almost sucked him inside. 

He knew that you would feel good, but he did not realize that it would feel like the most correct thing in his life. 

Bucky finally bottomed into you, stretching you the way you had never been before. You both thought that you could cum in that exact second, but you also both wanted to extend this moment as much as you could. 

“Princess…” That sounded so desperate when Bucky finally started moving his hips, dragging his cock out and then pushing right back in. "Fuck, I need to kiss you. You feel like a fuckin’ heaven, holy shit.” Not stopping sliding into you at a steady pace, he dragged your face closer, as if his life were depending on it. Bucky greedily bit and sucked your bottom lip, swallowing every moan and whine you let out.

“Mh— I can’t— oh, Bucky!” You cried, trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

He pulled you back away from his body, holding you that way so he had a better view of your face and body. He felt the way your thighs tried to squeeze together, your face started to heat and you tried to look away. 

“Don’t you dare become shy when I’m balls deep in you, princess.” He slowed his movements and teased you until you almost begged him to fuck you properly again. “You need to cum, huh? Show me those pretty eyes; don’t hide from me, c’mon.” You looked up, almost whining from the way he was looking at you. Pupils blown out, eyes slightly narrowed, and running around your face with interest and desire. “Do you need something? Speak up, sweet girl.”

“I want to cum. Let me, please.” 

“Good fucking girl.” 

Bucky started fucking you with a new forse; the table under you was squeaking with every move, making the whole scene even dirtier. You could not care about embarrassment anymore, moaning Bucky name and begging him to be harder. 

You both felt how close you were. 

Your hand, with your skirt in it, tightened around the fabric, your spread legs were trembling and you started uncontrollably squeezing Bucky’s cock inside of you. His dirty words made your vision foggy with satisfaction and the way he didn’t stop hitting your sweet spot was enough for you to go crazy with an overwhelming orgasm.

“Bucky! Bucky, oh my— fuuuck!” You cried in pleasure, feeling a few more thrusts of his throbbing cock, until he finally slowed down and emptied himself in the condom. Your body fell forward right into Bucky’s chest, too tired to even sit straight. He wrapped his hands around you, slowly stroking your back and kissing your temple. 

“You are fucking amazing, princess.” He mumbled into your hair and you just hummed in response. After a few quiet minutes, when your head started to clear up and the whole weight of this situation fell on you, you finally pulled away, hiding your eyes from him again. “What? What’s wrong?” 

“I just… I don’t know what we are supposed to do in this situation; I mean— it was just sex for you, right?” You asked, focusing on one particular tattoo on Bucky’s neck to not show how nervous you were.

Bucky didn’t answer for a few seconds, but you felt the weight of his eyes on you. Then he lifted your face with one of his hands and softly smiled at you. “If it meant nothing for me, I would’ve already been on my way home. I want you. I wanted you from the moment I saw you and I won’t be satisfied until you let me take you out. Are you free tomorrow evening, sweetheart?” He cooed, playfully tilting his head to the side. That man and his charm would be the death of you…

“Um, okay. I’m free, if you’re not kidding.”

“Not in the slightest. Now get dressed. I'm taking you home.” He pecked your lips before slowly pulling out of you and getting rid of the condom. You slowly jumped from the table, legs trembling from two mind-blowing orgasms, not missing how Bucky’s smirked at you. 

“You don’t have to take me home, Bucky.” You fixed your dress and hair as much as you could without a mirror and then picked up the books from the floor that were forgotten during your makeout session. 

“Well, I didn’t see a car near the shop, so I assume you’re walking home. And it’s dark.” He walked behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and burying his face into your neck. “I don’t like this idea. I’m driving you home, princess.” 

“Fine. You won.” You playfully made an annoyed voice to what Bucky just chuckled and held you even closer. 

[matchingbatbites]

"What the fuck did you do?"

Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.

"Well-"

"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"

Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.

“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”

“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”

No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-

He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.

The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 

Jesus Christ.

“Eddie?”

The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”

In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄

”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“

Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-

He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.

”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.

“Eddie, what-

”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“

Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 

Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.

Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-

Anything other than what Steve actually sent.

'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'

And Eddie- 

Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 

Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?

This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.

‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’

He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.

‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’

Fuck fuck fuck.

Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’

Steve saves him by sending another message.

‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’

He- What-

Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.

There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.

‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’

[charliemwrites]

In this 1fur1 au….may I raise you wolf!price? The dog/man basically struts right into your home out of the woods and immediately takes his place as pack leader. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be the one giving orders, price is in charge now.

You want to get off the couch and away from the mass of cuddles? Absolutely not. Price will be giving you a look so domineering you are sitting right back down no questions asked. He has you well trained ;)

The others don’t seem to mind the new addition either, making way for a new top dog. Price is quiet and doesn’t cause trouble, but if you’re late home be prepared to face his doggy wrath

Okay, so I love this concept, but I’m gonna raise you one - and write a new part for it.

(Don’t worry, Gaz is coming soon. This ask just really spoke to me lol).

This is also a part 1 — part 2 coming soon.

Three fuck-off sized wolf dogs is a lot. Like, a lot. There’s the fur, the food, the playtime. And then just the sheer clinginess. You’ve always thought of yourself as a dog person, that they just naturally are drawn to you because you tend to be quiet and respectful of boundaries.

Your boys though. They’re something else. Johnny was the easiest of the three to acclimate to your household. When it was just the two of you, bonding and learning him was easy. Whoever had him first had already done a lot of the work training him. And he naturally seems to like girls better so.

Ghost was more difficult. Clearly some trauma there, and a more wolfy-attitude towards humans. Primarily that he doesn’t seem to understand (or agree with) dumb pet things like harnesses, collars, and about 50% of the commands you give him unless you use your Serious Voice. He’s gotten less stingy with affection as time has gone on and his trust in you has grown.

Helped in part, you think, by learning his personality and behaviors. He’s a creature of strict habit. Likes his routines. Likes his space even more; you’ve always been respectful when he wanders off to another room, or when he climbs off the couch to lay nearby but not with you. You never mind, just call that you love him and leave him be.

Konig has been your biggest challenge so far. A lot of trauma there. And possibly a naturally shy personality; though it’s so hard to tell after everything he’s clearly been through. He’s been improving steadily each day, little by little. He’s sweet as can be, affectionate and snuggly when you manage to get him to join you and the others. The least aggressive with men when you take them for walks.

You’re lucky, the boys are so well-behaved — dislike of men notwithstanding. Scary dog privilege is a true blessing when you live alone, with no close neighbors, and right next to the woods. And they are so ridiculously sweet with you at least.

Still, they can be a lot. Any one of them is nearly the size of you, when all three of them decide to act up, it’s overwhelming.

Johnny will starting howling, pissed that Ghost has pinned him again. Ghost will start barking and grumbling - presumably trying to shut him up. And then Konig will insert himself, whining and tapping his feet, trying to break them up, you think.

Sometimes they’ll knock it off on their own, and Ghost will sneeze, shake off, and everyone will come to sit with you. But sometimes…

“Boys!”

You wade in between them, get a hold of Ghost’s scruff and push him off with your thigh against his muscular shoulder. Nearly trip over Johnny as he tries to scramble up and get at Ghost, crying and growling at the same time somehow. You curse as Konig bumps into you, nearly makes you fall over Ghost, who backs up with his nose scrunched up like he’s gonna bite.

Which is about the time you’ve had enough.

“Boys!” There’s a blessed beat of silence. “Outside, now!”

Johnny charges for the door, barking over his shoulder at ghost, who is quick to follow. Konig is slightly slower, head ducked like he knows he’s being part of the problem.

You groan with relief as they pile outside, all three immediately getting into another tussle. They’ve been keyed up the last three days no matter what you do and today seems to be the day it’s finally boiling over. You just wish it was on a day that the yard isn’t wet with mud.

Well then. You drop onto the porch steps and run your hands down your face, sighing. Best to let them stay out as long as possible — try to make bath time a little easier, at least.

You hear nails on the wood next to you, a little squeak, a snort. Figuring it’s one of the boys, you reach a hand without looking and tangle your fingers in their scruff. Pause because… that does not feel like any of your boys.

No way.

You pick your head up, turn slowly. And yup, there’s a dog you’ve never seen before. Another weird wolf one. Not as big as Konig at least. Closer to Ghost’s size — and actually similar in coloration. Cream and tan, with sharp blue eyes, a funny pattern along his cheeks and jaw that looks a bit like a beard.

“What in the…” you breathe, “is there some kind of doggy magnet on this house or something?”

You creep your fingers up his neck and around to his chin, give him a little scritch before he tilts his head to sniff at your wrist.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, “oof.”

You hurry to prop yourself up as he shoves his muzzle into your stomach, nuzzling up under your shirt. You squeak at the cold, wet nose on your skin — and then again he licks at your ribs.

“Alright, alright,” you huff, shoving at his chest.

He backs up, though not far, ears perked forward and eyes bright. You stare back at him for a second, then sigh and do your due diligence, searching for a collar or microchip. He waits patiently until you’re done, then stands and shakes himself off.

You arch an eyebrow as he barks twice. All three of your boys stop, heads jerking up and turning to the two of you on the porch. Another bark and your little pack comes trotting back. When Johnny tries to nip at Ghost’s haunch, the new dog rumbles low in his chest. And to your shock, Johnny falls in line and slinks inside.

“Huh,” you say.

The mystery pup sneaks a kiss to your cheek before following the others inside. When you just sit there for a second, staring, he twists to look at your over his shoulder and gives you a little “boof.”

You laugh. “Bossy bastard.” And follow them in.

[kissitbttr]

dilf!toji giving you a ride back to the party

a small follow up from this !

|

there has been times where you fantasize about hot older men with your friends. all of you agree that they are just better at everything.

you remember this one time when you had a crush on the first older guy you had found attractive. he was your dad’s closest friend. you had always loved admiring him from afar, undressing him with your eyes, imagining how he’d look as he fucks you in your bed. sadly, he’s married. which means, you can’t do anything about it.

one of your friends encouraged you to break it up though, steal him away from his wife in which you reply with a disgusting look on your face. because never in a million years you would stoop that low.

no guys ever came close as your dad’s best friend after that. dismissing every single college guys who tried to get into your pants, tossing every written numbers on a paper from them into a trash can. your ex was the only exception though. why? because he was two years older than you. that counts for something, right?

until now.

you sit rather quiet nervously in the passenger’s seat. fingers drumming slightly against your thick thighs, stealing glances every now and then at the handsome stranger who offered you a ride before,

and boy, does he look so hot doing it.

he leans comfortably against the seat with one hand on the wheel while the other perched on his thigh. looking like a perfect dream

dear god, please do not make me wet tonight

“thank you for the food, sir. i love it” you give him a smile, shoving another fry into your mouth. “i’m starving”

toji cranes his neck to look at you, mirroring your smile. “i thought i told you to call me toji?”

“oh yeah! sorry, i forgot!” you let out a nervous giggle, finger toying with the skirt of your dress. discreetly pulling it down further since it keeps riding up,

“i didn’t catch your name though. mind telling me?” he starts, putting his focus back on the road while taking a turn,

“i’m y/n” you respond to the beautiful dark haired man,

“pretty name for a pretty girl” he compliments, grinning widely at you. chuckling after seeing you blush. “still in college?”

you nod. “mhmm!”

“you like it?”

“pft! as if!” you roll your eyes, making him laugh at your comment. “college is insanity. too much work, but the parties help”

“i bet” he replies, head shaking. “is it like a regular thing?”

“kind of. we always do it once a week, or twice…? can’t exactly count. the frats usually the one who held it, so I can’t really tell” you shrug your shoulders, eyes looking over to the window. “what about you, sir-toji?”

he snorts, running his fingers over his hair and you almost let out a soft gasp.“oh I don’t party, sweetheart. i’m too old for that.”

“can’t be that old” you giggle, reaching out to poke his side with a finger. you don’t know where that confidence comes from, could be from alcohol,

toji raises an eyebrow at the sudden touch, but makes no comment. “i’m pushing 40, so definitely old” he smirks at you,

40..?

oh…

a look of surprise is taking over your face. “really?” you see him nod again in confirmation. “you don’t look like you’re that old”

“how old did you think i am?”

“hmm, 27?”

he barks a laugh, and you never heard something so pretty. “now you’re just being polite, sweetheart”

god, he really is making you swoon with all the terms of endearment . you wonder if he’s married or taken,

“are you single?”

he’s taken aback at the question, eyebrow raising. “why, want to take me out on a date?”

giggling, you toss a hair behind your shoulder before shrugging it. shifting your body to completely facing him now. “maybeee”

toji only laughs at your confidence. the small pouty look you’re giving just makes him want to give you a peck on the lips. maybe two.

you’re so damn cute, he’d give you that.

“yes, i am. divorced about two years ago.”

“oh… what happened? if you don’t mind me asking.”

he shrugs like it’s nothing. “didn’t work out. the whole marriage was draining me. but i got a little boy who i love dearly and would tear down the whole fucking sky for”

he’s got a kid?! holyshit,

“how old is he?”

“just turned two last month” he smiles at the thought of his little megumi sleeping soundly back home. “how about you, sweetheart? got marriage written down on your plan?”

“oh of course! it’s definitely on my bucket list!” you sigh dreamily at the thought of you walking down the aisle. “not any time soon though! i like being like this for a moment”

“good. you enjoy that while it lasts.” he advises. “hate to overstep, but what’s the deal with your ex before?”

hearing that makes your smile drop and body slouch. eyes dropping down to your lap. “oh..”

toji senses that bubbly personality of your is wearing off soon as he mentions that, which causes him to panic. “shit, I didn’t mean to make you sad, darling. sorry. you don’t have to explain”

you shake your head, clearing your throat. “no, no! it’s fine it was just—“ you cut yourself with a sad sigh. “he wanted.. to have sex with me at the party but.. i didn’t want to.. because we were drunk! and it wouldn’t be right for us to do it while we’re drunk, right?! so i told him no… over and over and — he didn’t take it well so… he called me a boring bitch and broke it off..”

his eyebrows deepening hearing that, hand around the wheel tighten at the thought of some lowlife punk trying to force himself at a sweet girl like you to have sex,

“you fucking with me?” his tone rising, seeing you shake your head as a no. “my god that’s not— sweetheart, you know that it was not your fault right? was that why you looked so sad? because you thought that you should’ve gave him what he wanted?”

you toy with the hem of your skirt, still looking down before nodding. “…yes.. because maybe then he wouldn’t be mad”

“no.. oh god, no.. don’t you ever, ever think that. what you did was the right thing, baby. you should be proud for standing up to yourself, you know that?”

slowly you look up to him, seeing his genuine eyes looking into yours. “okay..”

but toji doesn’t buy that, instead he shakes his head. “no, i want to hear you say it, come on. say ‘i did the right thing’”

a smile slowly creeps up to your face while your cheeks are heating up. “tojiii” you whine,

he smiles back at you, “come on. say it”

“i—i did the right thing” you repeat slowly,

“good girl” he praises, and that almost makes your body goes slump and your thighs to squeeze together,

when was the last time someone called you that?

throughout the ride, you and toji talk a lot about each other. from a-z. and you can’t help but admit how refreshing it is to finally have someone to talk to like this. it was a non-stop conversation, accompanied by the soft tunes playing in the background—thanks to your choice of music—

you may not notice this but toji is purposely taking the long way just so the conversation stays a bit longer,hoping you don’t realize what he’s doing. it’s not like you would actually complain, you enjoy his company.

despite your age, toji finds you to be the most interesting woman he has ever met. the way you talk freely and articulate words when you speak to him is so attractive. he loves a woman who has her own opinion on everything and you had just shown him that.

you’re smart, witty, have a great sense of humor and not to mention,

really fucking gorgeous.

toji feels like a downright pervert when he tries to sneak a glance at your soft plump thighs every second. imagining how they would look around his head. or the fat of your tits when you bounce on his cock, giving him the perfect view. and your lips,

god, your pink. glossy . lips.

“is this the place?” he pulls up in front of the big frat house where he can see a few kids standing on the porch, typical red solo cups in their hands. his eyes carefully observe the scene before him. “shit, they’re really getting shit faced huh?”

you laugh, looking over where one kid had puked all over the lawn making you grimace. “they’re not all like that everyday”

“hmm sure, sweetheart” he rolls his eyes, but smile anyways. “be careful now, yeah? you got my number saved?”

nodding, you take one good look at him before unbuckling your seatbelt. “yup! thank you for the ride, toji. you’re a real life saver!”

“don’t mention it. keep an eye out on any one who wants to try something with you. especially your ex. let me know if he’s bothering you, i’ll come quickly as i can” he informs,

your heart feels like its about to jump out of your chest, “i will, thanks again and oh! wait— can i … see you again?”

he quirks an eyebrow at that, a cocky smirk stretches upon his pretty lips causing you to glance down at it,

“you want to?” his finger and thumb softly tapping against the wheel

“i do” you reply quickly, biting down on your lower lip as your hand fiddle against the handle of his car door. “this can’t be the last time, right?”

no, of course not he thinks. because he wants to see you too. if not more than you want to see him. might as well take you out on a date, or a stroll. anything. as long as he gets to see that pretty face of yours longer than just an hour.

“you got it, sweetheart. keep a look out for a text from me, then yeah?” his hand then reach our to grab your other one, giving a soft kiss on the knuckles while maintaining an eye contact with you,

you let out a shaky breathe with a small cute smile as he rubs his thumb against your skin. before you can even move your hand to open the door, he does it for you. shooting you another smile of his.

you grab your purse and climb out of the vehicle, waving your hand at him. “good night , toji”

“goodnight, y/n. i’ll see you very soon” he winks before you close the door and see himself drive off,

you stand there for a while with a bright smile on your face that never seems to leave,

you really can’t wait to see him again

—

next part, first date?👀

a/n: also, planning to make this into a series <3

taglist:

@fushipurro

@crocodilethesir

@chilichopsticks

@trentknd

@tojis-ball-sack

@hellokittyloverrxox

@xavlyzn

[navybrat817]

" Scraping their teeth over your neck to have a shiver of arousal run down your spine. "

With Bucky. 🥺

This probably didn't go the way anyone wants, nonnie, and I'm sorry!

Give Me a Name

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Tension, threat of violence (not against reader), very minor injury, pet names, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Because who doesn't want a mob boss obsessed with them? ❤️ Edit by the talented @nixakimbo. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Today was a not-so-friendly reminder that mistakes in your job weren’t so easy to fix. You had been in pursuit of a target for weeks and finally managed to catch him. The rookie agent, however, didn’t secure the cuffs and the bastard managed to get a hard hit in when he broke free. The dizziness from the blow was enough to let him get away.

The rookie went after him, but you knew he wouldn’t catch him. You’d have to start all over with tracking him and you didn’t even get a chance to go home to lick your wounds. Not when Bucky’s men showed up and put you in a car.

You should’ve known they were close by.

“I can walk!” You argued minutes later when they brought you to the Barnes mansion. The mob boss had a few homes, but this one had been in the family for years. He had invited you here before, but never took you by force.

Until today.

The men carefully arranged you on a leather sofa in the den before one of them went to get their boss. He hadn’t left the room before the door flew open, the very man he went to find standing there with a look thunderous enough to kill. He snatched something out of one of his soldier’s hands before he went to you, no one daring to speak a word.

You held your breath as you glanced at Bucky. He had the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up as he assessed you, the veins in his arms popped out as he clenched his fists. He was built like a soldier with his massive frame, his life story told in the tattoos and scars that adorned his covered skin. The notorious crime lord more than earned his reputation and he promised he’d tell you his story himself one day.

Today wouldn’t be that day.

He brushed some of his long hair from his eyes before crouching down beside you. He didn’t take his eyes off you as he dabbed at your cheek with the cloth. He stopped when you winced, but you gave him a small smile to let him know he could continue. You didn’t expect tenderness from such a rough man, but you were different to him, weren’t you? You had been since the two of you crossed paths some time ago. Why?

What made you so special?

“Who did this to you?” He asked in a low voice. You could hear that he tried to keep the raging storm inside of him, but his icy eyes showed you everything. The growing fury was bound to come out. Who would he destroy in his path to sate the beast?

“Bucky. I’m fine,” you croaked as you tried to sit up more, but he stopped you from moving. “The guy got lucky and it isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. Just let me get back to work,” you said.

You noticed most of the men nearby avoided eye contact when you looked around. They had every reason to be afraid. James Buchanan Barnes was downright terrifying when crossed.

And crossing you was a worse offense in his eyes.

“Give me a name,” Bucky demanded, though he didn't raise his voice. “Tell me his fucking name so I can take care of it.”

“I can’t,” you whispered. If you did, he’d kill him. No, he’d torture him first. Likely for days on end before he begged for death. And you needed him alive.

That was your job.

Yet, you could never find it in yourself to bring Bucky in.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

You froze at the cold tone before you realized Bucky didn’t direct that statement at you. One of his men standing feet away turned his head to the side because he got caught staring. You should’ve known better. Whatever cat and mouse game you and the mob boss were playing, it was for him to catch you in his trap, but never hurt you.

Not when he wanted to keep you.

“I’m sorry, boss,” the man promised, his tone wavering when Bucky reached for one of his pistols. “I-”

“‘Cause I’ll do it in a heartbeat and never look back if you glance at her again,” he promised. He was a man of his word. “Leave us. All of you. Now.”

“Bucky, it’s okay,” you assured him as they filed out. The men were dangerous, but you weren’t about to let him shoot the poor guy for looking your way.

“It isn't okay. Someone put their hands on you,” he nearly growled, the soft touch to your cheek a stark contrast to his voice. “You think I can let that go? I can’t. I won’t.”

You brought a hand up to tuck a few strands of his hair behind his ear. His eyes shut for a moment and grabbed your wrist before you could pull away. He dragged your fingers through the short beard along his jaw, like he was starved of your touch and needed more. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted him.

Not when you belonged in different worlds.

“You don’t have to ‘avenge’ me, Bucky, because I’m not yours,” you said carefully. Were you telling him for his sake or yours? “Let it go. Please.”

The storm continued to rage in his eyes when he opened them and you wondered who would win the battle of the wills. You held your breath again when he moved close, the scent of his woodsy cologne making your head spin. Instead of brushing his lips against yours, he brought his mouth to your neck. Scraping his teeth over your pulse, you couldn’t stop the shiver of arousal that moved down your spine.

“You are mine, Kisa,” he whispered, giving your neck another nip as you tried not to whimper. “And I’m going to find out who did this whether you tell me or not. And I’m going to kill him.”

Your heart shouldn’t have raced faster at his declaration. “If I tell you, will you let me go home?”

“You are home,” he replied, pulling away and looking into your eyes so you could see how serious he was. “And I’d feel a lot better if you got some rest in my bedroom.”

You shuddered because you both knew you wouldn’t get a wink of rest if he took you to bed. And if you slept with him, there would be no turning back. “You can’t keep me prisoner here, Winter.”

The cold and ruthless man who only wanted you.

“You’re not my prisoner, Kisa,” he said, pressing his lips softly to your pained cheek. “But I’m never letting you go.”

He’d prove that to you.

I don't know about you lovelies, but I kind of love them. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[diariesofthelover]

Wayne Brothers’ Gala Girl

synopsis: Bruce Wayne’s galas are held every once in a blue moon, but when they did occur, every Gotham socialite was sure to attend. The eldest sons of Gotham’s favorite billionaire always wound up in some trouble to entertain themselves, this time the brothers’ idea of fun was a beautiful woman who looked almost as bored as them.

notes: Jason Todd & Dick Grayson x reader, 3rd person pov, little bit 🌶️, inspired by the painting above.

The Eldest Wayne brothers found themselves in the quietest corner of the gala, bored with no idea of what they can get into this time around to beat last gala’s “performance” as they would call it.

“We could set off the fire alarm,” Dick suggests lazily to his younger brother.

“What are we twelve? Most of the people here already think we’re still fifteen.”

“No, they think you’re still fifteen because you were legally dead for like four years.”

“Shut up, dickwad.”

“HER!” Dick exclaimed, “Her, her, her, her!”

“You were Robin not a fucking parrot, her what?”

“That beautiful beautiful woman right there that looks even more miserable than we do with those tuxedo vultures circling her.”

Tuxedo vultures was spot on. These rich pigs had her trapped, all trying to win her attention one at a time, attempting a better pitch than the last guy. Any kind of manners that were instilled in her from an early age couldn’t apply after the third man insisted that he was the perfect man for her, actually, the perfect man for any proper woman, brains or not. All of the men here were the exact same, they believed their money and family were enough to flatter any woman here, that having any form of a likable personality or distanct traits besides snobbery was, “not something women really wanted.”

The woman couldn’t control her eye roll after the second attempted joke was made, averting her gaze where her eyes landed on the two men who already had their bright eyes on her, Bruce Wayne’s oldest sons.

She didn’t have a problem with the Wayne Family of course, she was after all attending their gala, it was just some of the guests that she wasn’t so fond of.

“What about her?” Jason looks over to who Dick was fawning over. Jason wasn’t blind, actually his vision only got better after he was resurrected, he too thought that the woman was beautiful, maybe one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, which is why he immediately shut Dick down, knowing what he was going to try to do.

“No, Dick. No chance, leave her alone.”

“I don’t think she wants me to,” Dick replies as the woman returns his famous flashy grin with a soft smile.

Dick had been trying to get Jason…well more out there after the whole dying, coming back to life, and then out in the public eye again thing. Jason died young, he barely got a chance to live his teenage years so whenever Jay’s attracted to someone, he starts acting like a teenage boy but at the age of twenty instead of sixteen.

Dick, make every girl swoon over him since his Robin days, Grayson mastered the whole girl thing by now and is trying to be his not so little brother’s tonight’s wingman.

“Follow me,” Dick whispers to Jason, not taking his eyes of the beauty across from him.

Dick and a hesitant Jason make their way over to the group of men that were all secretly jealous of their father, probably jealous of his sons too, interrupting the lifeless conversation and taking all of her focus off the vultures and onto him and Jason.

“Good evening gentlemen, how are we doing tonight?” Jason almost gagged at his at his brother’s fake politeness, he was always the better one at socializing, his charming personality didn’t stop at women.

“Richard Grayson, boy you’ve certainly grown up since I last saw you!” An older man around Bruce’s age greets him stirring up the rest of the men.

“Dick Grayson huh, pleasure to finally meet Gotham’s new prince.”

“I hear you’re very popular with the ladies,” the group erupted into laughter, these men really love any jokes to do with a woman don’t they?

“And you must be Bruce’s other son, Tim is it?” Jason’s takes his eyes off the woman to give the man a slight scowl, he promised Bruce he’d behave tonight.

“No, no, that’s Jason the one that…” one of the men tries to begin to tell the epic tale of Jason Todd.

“Say, we would love to stay and chat but our date has been waiting for us for quite a bit now,” Dick quickly interrupts him before Jason pulls out any kind of weapon on these men and offers his hand to the woman.

She places her hand into his thinking that she’d rather be a damsel in a in distress in need of saving by a knight, or in Gotham’s case a masked vigilante, instead of spending another moment with some men that are old enough to be her father thinking about how’d she make the perfect trophy wife and the younger who simply want to get laid after the gala. As Dick pulls her away from the hungry drunken men, she offers her hand to Jason who gives her a confused and flustered look.

“If I’m not mistaken, Mr. Grayson said our date,” she says to him in the most soothing and charming voice Jason’s ever heard.

Forcing himself to snap out of this teenage haze, Jason takes her hand earning a smile from both her and his brother.

“I hope you don’t mind us whisking you away like that, you just seemed like you weren’t enjoying yourself,” Dick started, never dropping his darling smile.

“I don’t mind at all, I needed an excuse to get away from them,” the woman looks back at the men as they watch the brothers walk away with their “prize” in envy, “god they’re pathetic,” she sighs.

“Tell me about it,” Jason mumbles beside her.

“All night I’ve been surrounded by these people that only talk about their money, their jobs, their mansion and penthouses, it’s a bit exhausting, they really can’t think of anything else to discuss. It’s fascinating that they really think that’s the way to win over a woman.”

“Well I can promise you we’re a lot more interesting than that,” Dick laughs, “We also have access to all parts of the manor, how about Jason and I give you a little tour?” Dick states rather than asks earning a questioning look from Jason about what he’s planning.

“If you insist.”

Jason knew how Dick wanted him to jump into the dating pool. He frequently tried to set him up with either other vigilantes so he wouldn’t have to worry about his partner 24/7, or an ordinary Gotham citizen where Jason could escape from Gotham’s criminals and Red Hood duties to enjoy a semi-normal life. What Jason wasn’t understanding was why Dick had a chosen a woman that he was madly attracted to as well.

As Dick began his small tour of the manor, Jason stood awkwardly alongside the woman who was attentively watching his older brother and the places he showed. Jason didn’t know if he should join in or take over, make some small talk, he was sort of frozen in place and shy. You’d think that the big bad Red Hood who always had a mouth on him since he was Robin and would break Batman’s moral code would be the last person to get nervous around a pretty girl, maybe Red Hood wouldn’t but Jason Todd would.

“And this is the library, Jason’s favorite place in the manor,” Jason was snapped out of his thoughts when Dick mentioned his name, “once he comes in here you won’t see him for hours.”

“Big reader?” It took a moment for Jason to realize that the question was for him and not Dick.

“Yea, um, yes, I love literature.”

“Really, would do you love to read?” She was now fully focused on Jason who was struggling to maintain eye contact as his cheeks and ears were colored red.

He couldn’t keep his cool physically but he could try verbally, “classics,” he responded simply, not adding more to his portion of the conversation to which Dick internally sighed to.

“Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Austen?” The charming woman tried to get something out of the boy.

“All of them, and more of course,” Jason gave her a shy smile.

She heads towards the leather chair that Jason always sits in, making herself comfortable in his spot.

“This where you sit, get lost in all those stories you read?”

Something about her sitting in his chair made his blood rush. The way that she had made it look twice the size bigger being half the size of Jason, the way she relaxed into his chair, sinking into his molding. The boy was so mesmerized he forgot to answer her question.

Dick noticed and decided to swoop in, “Mhm, right here,” Dick drags now standing over her, “he’s a very smart guy you know with all the books he reads, runs in the family.”

She slowly shifted her gaze from Jason to Dick who was getting closer and closer, “I guess the looks do too, interesting for adopted brothers,” earning a smile from both boys.

“Excuse my brother for his shortness, we usually occupy ourselves with stunts at these galas, not beautiful women,” Dick says switching the attention back onto Jason, “he can get pretty shy.” Normally that statement would earn a punch to the shoulder or at least a nasty remark but Dick was right, Jason was pretty shy around pretty girls.

Dick and the mystery woman were now smiling at Jason who was leaned against the wall, close enough to where he can see the rise and fall of her chest, but far enough from engaging the way Dick was.

Dick gently tilts her head up with his large calloused hands forcing their gala girl to look up at him, “What do you think of my brother?”

Now it was the woman’s turn to be painted red, “I think he’s one of the most handsome and intriguing men I’ve ever seen.”

“And me?” Dick pouts.

“I think you’re one of the most handsome and charming man i’ve ever come across,” she says in a sultry tone that lures the boys in like sailors to a siren.

Both Dick and Jason’s blood is rushing, relishing in the fact that this goddess of a woman found the boys to be worthy of her attraction, that nobody else at the gala was as good as them.

“Tell me something, both of you,” she starts, “why stray from your usual chaos and shenanigans to show me around your manor?”

“You’re much more intriguing than anything we had in mind,” says Jason surprisingly boldly as he moves closer to her.

“You’re the most entertaining here tonight, baby,” adds in Dick who quickly got back his confidence after a brush to his ego.

“I heard I was beautiful too,” she teased, trying to get the higher ground again.

“I bet you get told that a lot, don’t you angel? You think that’s what those pigs were telling her Jay? How much of a pretty girl she is,” It was too late though, once Dick Grayson got wound up, he got complete control, “Now you tell me something doll, did they tell you how sexy you look in that dress of yours?” She shakes her head no, any kind of witty and teasing responses wiped from her pretty head, “Aw, well that’s just wrong, Jason tell her how good she looks in that dress.”

Both eyes are on Jason, waiting for his compliment, “She looks—you look stunning in that dress,” Dick was waiting for more, he knew Jason had the vocabulary he just needed the push, “You suit my color, red’s my favorite,” now they were getting something out of him.

“I’ll be sure to think of you when I wear red again,” god she was good. Dick had to bring the power back to him and Jason again, this all quickly became a game to him, his real entertainment for tonight’s gala.

“And what if we got rid of the red,” Dick slips the strap of her dress off her shoulder causing her to shudder, he’s in control again, “how’s that look?”

“Fuck,” Jason whispered under his breath.

“I think Jason feels the same way about it as I do,” with how quiet it was in the library his whisper was heard easily by the two, “what do you think pretty, you think it’s better?”

She felt like how Jason felt in the beginning, mesmerized and stunned. From Dick talking to her so confidently and his usage of pet names, to the way Jason was losing his fucking mind over her.

“Y’gonna answer me or are you gonna keep looking at Jay with fuck me eyes?” Dick wasn’t jealous, he was trying to tease the two, get them riled up.

Before she gets to respond there’s a knock at the door, “Master Richard and Master Jason, Master Bruce requests your attendance for at least another half hour.”

“We’ll be right out Alfred,” Richard quickly answered before Alfred could barge in on the scene, “shall we?”

Dick heads towards the door as Jason and their gala girl slowly fix themselves up, avoiding any kind of eye contact with each other.

Dick stops Jason before they head back out to the gala, “You’re welcome, Jaybird.”

[neuvistar]

HONKAI STAR RAIL MEN AS FATHERS! pt one.

— featuring ┊jing yuan, blade, dan heng, gepard x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings ┊hsr men as fathers !! mostly fluff ! SPOILERS ON BLADE’S (?) PART, not proofread i think, you r married to them here, a little angst on blade’s but it’s nothing much, mentions of pregnancy, blade referred to as “ren”, them being absolute sweethearts </3 overall just fluff! | pt two. (luocha, luka, welt, sampo) pt three. (aventurine, dr ratio, argenti, boothill, sunday gallagher)

— a/n ┊oh my days i’m sooo obsessed w these, i love thinking abt them too like okayyy.. strong jing yuan + gepard best father believer !! I ALREADY MADE A SEPARATE TAG 4 THIS TOO SO I CAN RAMBLE ABT IT W MY PRECIOUS FOLLOWERS, ANONS N MOOTS !! </3 you could tell i had fun writing gepards (i rlly did)

best papa #1. jing yuan (DILF DILF DILF!)

- JING YUAN would be such an amazing father, it’s like it’s natural to him, he’s one of the sweetest n most supportive ones !! when he found out about your pregnancy he would spin you around in his arms, kissing the temple of your forehead whispering “i love you”s under his breath. hes such a dilf too jesus fuck

- JING YUAN would have three kids (jesus christ) two girls n one boy, HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD DAD N I KNOW IT! he’s so patient and gentle with you during your pregnancy, and he was even more patient n gentle w his own kids, he loves them very much. he would be willing to teach his children everything, he would help them with their swordsmanship skills and even help out with other things, he’s such a good papa it hurts, he’s so gentle with your children, he’s an absolute natural! it’s like he was meant to be a dad almost

- JING YUAN who would be protective over his kids but not too protective, he loves seeing them all free, especially when they were just little cute babies. his eldest daughter loved running around his office, tugging at his clothes and asking him to play with her.

“dadddd! play with me noww! brother and sister wants to play too, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes like you said, but it already passed!”

“not now, princess.” his lips melted into a soft grin, giving his daughter a small pat on the head. “how about this, how about you and your siblings accompany daddy while he works, ‘that sound good?”

- JING YUAN who tries his best to make his children happy, i bet he’s the type to sing small little lullabies for them to help them sleep, rocking his little son in his arms as he has his small little fingers around his. he’s great with animals as well, he would take his children to a little adventure one day and have them hold and feed the birds that are always around him, nibbling on their tiny hands as he guides them, helping them try and feed it.

“go on, try and feed him. he doesn’t bite, he’s not scary either right? dad’s here to protect you, remember?

- JING YUAN who would talk to his children when they were still in your womb, telling them stories about his life, his adventures and telling them how beautiful their mommy was. jing yuan would consider this as his daily routine, he loved talking to his little ones even before they were born!

“hey princess. daddy loves you so much, y’know that?”

“daddy is excited to meet you too sweetheart, yes he is. but try not to give your mother a hard time, okay?“

best papa #2. blade

- BLADE who never thought he’d ever become a dad because of the life he lives, so much regret and grief in his heart so therefore he would start off a bit rocky, he was a bit unsure and didn’t quite understand the aspects of being a father and that worried him so much. he was terrified of not fulfilling his duties and responsibilities as a father but you always reassured him that he’s doing the best he can and that’s what truly matters.

“ren honey, she can’t support the weight of her own head, you know?”

“.. she can’t?”

oh boy.. he had a lot to learn.

- BLADE would probably have one kid! HE WOULD HAVE A DAUGHTER IM CONFIRMING THAT RN. your little princess is almost bound to look like him! she’s like a mini version of blade as she has the same hair, same eyes, etc! aaa it’s so cute! he thinks so too, he just doesn’t have the balls to actually admit it. his little princess would think of her papa as the strongest person in the world! it’s adorable honestly, she wants to be just like him, big and strong!

- BLADE who would be extremely overprotective over his daughter, he would have a very soft spot for her too. he would give everything his all to secure her knowledge about the current life he was living right now as a stellaron hunter, he knew he wasn’t the best, but he was willing to change for you and his child. yet, it still worried him. it still worried him that maybe one day his daughter will eventually find out about his past and follow his exact footsteps, everyday he prays nothing like that happens, he wants her to do good, not bad. he doesn’t want her to fall in the same path he went before.

- BLADE who honestly didn’t expect to have a child himself, so when he was caught right handed carrying a small little child in his arms, kafka and silver wolf would doubt him at first, asking him if this was just another child he found in the middle of the streets, shocked to find out he was acc a father n he wasn’t messing w their heads again skull emoji

“that’s.. that’s your kid?!”

“yeah.”

“she looks just like you..”

“are you sure you aren’t messing with us? you actually had sex?!”

“.. could you have worded that a better way?”

- BLADE who would find comfort in his own family, making a promise to himself that he would absolutely devote his love to you and his little princess, he would do everything to protect you and her, even if it means risking his everything for the both of you. but yet.. he still thinks about how he’ll eventually watch you and his little princess die while he lives on, for eternity. he wants to bask in the presence of his beloveds for as long as he could, he would break the curse of his immortality if he could, just so he see his loved ones die, no.. not again. he can’t afford to see the two most important people of his life die, once again. but he knew, his fear would come true eventually.

best papa #3. dan heng

- DAN HENG is a SWEETHEART. tbh hes a a lil confused but he’s trying + he’s learning! he also never expected he would ever have a child of his own, he doubted his own abilities at first but he got the hang of it as it flows through, he’s an outstanding father too! he’s just a lil confused but he’s got the spirit

- DAN HENG would probably have multiple kids, about two! one girl and one boy. when his first child was born, he felt a wave of happiness and relief wash through his body as he was finally taking in one of the biggest responsibilities there is, he promised himself he would do his best for you and his kids, and he really kept his promise! he does try his best and tries his hardest to give them the utmost care and support, he loves his pretty wife and his kids sm and it shows

- DAN HENG would have good hearing! when his young ones were still little babies, he would usually be the first one to aid them whenever they wake up in the middle of the night crying, gently rocking them in his arms until they fall asleep in his arms, their small hands on his shirt. so cute <3

- DAN HENG who would help his kids fall asleep by sitting or laying by their side and watch them sleep, maybe he would hum a tone or two.. he just can’t comprehend the fact that he was the father of these kids, he treasures them sm and you notice it, he’s just so so sweet to you and your kids

“dan heng?” you would call, entering the room of your kids before seeing your husband laying on the edge of the bed, arm over the two young ones as a gentle grin forms on your face as you shut the door, god. you married the right man.

- DAN HENG who just wants the best for his kids, he would come off as too overprotective sometimes and it might look like he was angry but in reality he just wants the best for them and wants to keep them safe.

“i thought i told the both of you not to go there.”

“.. but daddy you didn’t say that! that’s no fair!”

dan heng crouched down to his daughter’s level, eyeing her and his son down. “daddy doesn’t want you both to get into trouble. plus, you could easily get hurt or stepped on from some big monster.”

“dan heng, stop scaring the kids.” you crossed your arms, before a tug on your shirt was made,

“no no mommy, it’s not scary! because we know that daddy is always gonna be there to save us!” dan heng grinned, pulling his two younglings in a tight hug. he really does hope he can fulfill that, he wants to be there for them after all.

best papa #4. gepard landau

- GEPARD is such a girl dad, he would have three little princesses! gepard is surprisingly a good dad, like i said he’s a such a girl dad he would cherish and love his princesses (including you <3) until the end of time, he’s such a good dad it makes my heart melt, he would probably ramble about the fact he has three daughters to serval, HES SOOO SWEET ABT IT TOO. “mhm mhm. i have three princesses in my household!” is what he would say, he loves his daughters smmm HES A GIRL DAD U CANNOT TRLL ME OTHERWISE. speaking of serval, she would be an amazing aunt i know it!

- GEPARD is such a loving and doting father! when his first daughter was born he probably thanked every star in the whole universe for this amazing gift that was brought upon him and you, HE LOVES YOU AND HIS DAUGHTERS SM BRO. he can be a bit overprotective and it might lead him to seem a bit controlling but he doesn’t mean to be or sound controlling in the first place, it’s only because he wants his daughters to be safe, he knows how bad the world can be and he doesn’t want anything to happen to them.

- GEPARD who is willing to style his daughters’ hair, honestly you wondered where he inherited his skills from since he’s such a natural at it! (he got it from serval) sometimes you’ll even see one of your daughters in cute little pigtails held up in cute little pink bows, it’s so adorable to you!

“who did your hair baby? it looks great today.”

“daddy did!” when she said that, gepard would probably be eavesdropping from the kitchen, a huge stupid smile on his face <3

- GEPARD who does his best to protect his wife and his children, sometimes you would tell stories to your kids about how amazing gepard really is, and how he’s the captain of the silvermane guards! i bet if they still had fears over little things like monsters under their beds etc your daughters would always go to gepard so he can “fight” the monsters off, gepard finds it so adorable how go to him whenever they’re scared, because he knows he can protect them from anything <3

- GEPARD probably has a daughter that looks up to him a lot, trying to follow in his footsteps. when his little daughter was little, she would sometimes sneak out from her room and sometimes catch him training, doing weird motions with his hands she didn’t quite get and copy him! she views gepard as “the strongest hero in the whole universe”

“daddy daddy! look look, it’s a drawing of me in your armour! one day i’ll be just like you, brave and strong!”

the blonde’s gaze softened, a low chuckle leaving his chest as he picked her up from the ground planting a quick kiss on her nose. “you’re already brave and strong, princess. you’re just as brave and strong as daddy is”

he’s such a girl dad ugh i love those men

[ugh-yoongi]

hang up if u want to | kmg

he's in japan. you're at home, knowing there's no point in staring at your phone, waiting. mingyu might not wanna define what the two of you are, but that certainly doesn't stop him from asking for what he wants.

pairing: idol!mingyu x f. reader genre: situationship au; a lil angst, smut warnings: swearing. sexting — use of gendered terms for genitalia, mentions of oral and penetrative sex, masturbation, images/videos, dirty talk i guess?, squirting. one mention of reader wearing a dress. another mention of reader wearing mingyu’s shirt and it being large on her. (not meant to be an indication of size—that mf is just so large i think most people would drown in his clothes.) mingyu is domineering and kind of brat tamer-y but i wouldn't say this is dom-y at all. he also uses the term "baby" a lot bc i refuse to use y/n. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 3.6k listen to: namasenda - dare (pm) / khalid, 6lack, ty dolla $ign - otw / keshi - like i need u / edward maya & vika jigulina - stereo love / monsta x - addicted / brockhampton - sugar / shy martin - good together author's note: hello, i barely text men let alone sext them, so if this sucks my bad. i'm also not 100% comfy for writing any groups outside of bts, so i'm also sorry if the characterization is off. the mingyu brainrot was brainrotting tho bc if there's one thing he's gonna do it's look hot holding his phone in a photo, so. here we are. i was gonna wait and post this tomorrow but it's valentine's day so fuck it we ball. thank you: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, & @effortandmore for checking this over and brainstorming with me. namasenda for the lyrics in the title and inspo.

Kim Mingyu Missed Call (2)

Your eyes glance upwards at the time. It’s nearing one a.m.; Mingyu’s second call came and went only a few minutes ago. The first one will have come not long after he got off stage, because they always do. There’s a script—unspoken and unacknowledged, but a script nonetheless—and Mingyu follows it religiously.

You sigh. Leave your phone on your nightstand as you change into pajamas, back into the bathroom to wash your face. Roll your eyes as you hear the texts roll in, the sound grating and ominous as it vibrates against the wood.

All part of the script.

Kim Mingyu: just got back to the hotel Kim Mingyu: you up

Also part of the script: this is the only way it goes. Maybe Mingyu wants to text you, but adrenaline’s the only reason he ever goes through with it. That post-concert high, nothing else to do with all that energy but invest it into you, and the thing about scripts is that they get old, grow stale. Always the same thing, and you can only have that conversation so many times before you get tired and rip it up.

We all have roles to play. Mingyu is the one who refuses to define what it is the two of you have, put a label on it. He’s the one who calls from countries away and speaks in that low, hushed tone. He’s the tempter, the one who holds all the cards but refuses to lay them down.

A royal flush, every single time.

And you—you’re not helpless. Not some poor creature fighting for its life in a spun-silk web. Mingyu’s capable of devouring you in more ways than one, but it’s not like that. Not really. As laissez-faire as he is, you come and go as you please, too. Perhaps it’s as mutually beneficial as it is destructive, but that’s the nature of the production; the result of the roles you two of you play.

Kim Mingyu: you ignoring me? Kim Mingyu: i saw your ig story Kim Mingyu: knock it off baby

You smile, private and sardonic, because you aren’t helpless. Sometimes it’s your web, and it’s all Mingyu can do to keep his head above water. Another role you’d borrowed from someplace else but still have memorized. Still remember all the lines, the mannerisms.

On your story: a video of you, bare skin glittering beneath the golden-fluorescent light of your bathroom; you, with your dress unzipped, the straps slipping down your arms; your hand pressed to your chest to keep yourself covered. Your back turned to the camera, visible only in the mirror, as the silk dropped to the floor.

In the settings: only two accounts given permission to see, both belonging to the same person.

In your DMs: Mingyu, on his private account with the username that looks more like a keysmash than any legible thing, reacting with the fire emoji.

Related: the image hovering just above Mingyu’s texts. The one he’d repaid you with not long after seeing your story. A mirror selfie of his own: grey sweatpants hung low on his hips, a soaked-through white t-shirt stuck to his stomach, the lines of his abs visible.

That, and everything below it—all left unanswered.

The thing about Mingyu is he’ll give chase. Doesn’t shy away from all the things he wants; isn’t shy about giving voice to them.

But he’ll never, ever beg.

(Not like this, at least. When he’s in your bed it’s always a different story. He’s a kept man, there, and kept men have no qualms about things like that. Begging for your mouth, your pussy. Begging you to let him come.)

Normally you’d let it go. Let him talk to himself in your texts, because he’s got a lot of nerve if nothing else, but you’d gone out earlier. Grabbed a few drinks with your girlfriends, let the alcohol thrum through you like a livewire. Watched as they danced with men whose names they didn’t know and never learned and thought about what it’d be like to be able to do something like that in public.

Got home, felt a little scorned, just on the edge of bitter. Made a show of taking your dress off in the bathroom mirror and posted it someplace you knew he’d look.

You: did you like it?

Rhetorical. Mingyu may not want to put a label on this thing, might not want to be caged-in and suffocated, but you know what you do to him. All the ways you affect him.

i could tell you, comes the immediate reply, and your eyes are halfway rolled when—

Kim Mingyu: or i could show you

It takes a second to come through, but once it does your breath hitches in your throat. Far from the most obscene image he’s ever sent you, but just as effective. An expanse of tanned, soft skin, lean muscle; still in those same grey sweats, bunched up a little on the thigh as he lays in his plush hotel bed with his legs spread.

At the center of it all, the outline of his hard, thick cock, so fucking big as it stretches the fabric taut.

All you can do is stare.

Mingyu is not of this earth. This thought is nothing new: he has always existed outside the realm of possibility, in more ways than one, so this is merely a fact. Grass is green, the sky is blue, sometimes you can love someone in a way that’s so overwhelming and still be no good for them.

Another fact: it’s primal, the way you need him. Always has been.

You: what am i looking at? You: new sweatpants?

On the other end of the line, it’s easy to imagine his reaction. A quick snort of laughter, tongue pressed into the fat of his cheek before he clenches his jaw. If he were here, he’d haul you into his lap, kiss you deep and messy. Trail his fingers along your skin until they settled in the hollow of your throat.

Pull away just for a second. Just long enough to say, “Watch your mouth,” before he’s licking into it.

Kim Mingyu: don’t be like that 🙄

This time your eyes fully roll. Spitefully, you snap a picture of what’s in front of you: your bedroom wall, some drama playing on the TV, a sliver of amber light from the lamp next to you.

You send it.

You: while we’re sending pictures of irrelevant shit

Truth be told, you’re not like this often, but you get a streak of it every now and then. Only ever at times like this, when the two of you haven’t seen one another in a while and the distance between you is still so ambiguous, untitled.

Usually Mingyu will come by your place. Get you stripped down to almost nothing, have you writhing on his fingers. Then, in between satisfied groans, he’ll slap at your thighs, tell you to stop being a brat.

Kim Mingyu: then send me something worthwhile You: you first

Another beat of silence. Long enough to flick through the channels, plug in your phone, let some of that heat dissipate.

Your phone chimes, and when you look down—

Those grey sweats are long gone, replaced with a pair of black briefs barely containing his cock, still hard and curved toward his stomach. You swallow. Let your eyes linger on the corded muscle of his thighs, all that soft skin. Let your mind remind you, just for a second, how it feels beneath your fingertips, your hands, your mouth.

All the sounds he makes.

Kim Mingyu: is that better Kim Mingyu: is that what you wanted

Unbidden, the corners of your mouth lift. hm… close but no, you type out. Let it sit for a few seconds before you delete it. If Mingyu wants to be a tease, you can do the same.

You situate yourself against the pillows. Angle your phone so the length of your body is visible: your bare legs twisted in the sheets, the bruise Mingyu had sucked into the inside of your thigh before he left just barely making it into the frame. What’s fully visible, though: his shirt that’s draped over your frame, how much it engulfs you, the way you’re drowning in it. In him.

You send it.

You: depends... is this what you wanted?

The response is immediate:

Kim Mingyu: absolutely not. take it off baby.

You’ve starred in this production before, knew where it was headed the second you saw the missed calls, so you’d put on his favorite of your underwear. Skimpy red lace, part of a set he’d had sent to your apartment. Used to tell you in desperate whispers how ruined he was seeing you in them; used to have to rein himself in so he didn’t rip them off.

So you snap another photo. Spread your legs a little further, pull the hem of Mingyu’s shirt between your teeth. Know seeing that sliver of your stomach will drive him crazy, too, but it’ll pale in comparison to the underwear.

You consider video calling him. Want to see his face when you send this photo—the pinch of his brows, the slight drop of his jaw. The way he’ll whimper a little, say baby in that tone that floods you with heat: a little desperate, all hushed awe, bordering on a whine.

The same kind of heat that starts to creep back in again. There’s power in desire, in being desired, and even though you’re here and Mingyu’s in a hotel room in Japan, you can still feel it. Subconscious, like some kind of red string shit. Anticipatory.

Kim Mingyu: goddamn Kim Mingyu: you wear those for me? Kim Mingyu: fuck, i wish i was there to take them off of you

You suck in a breath. and if you were? you send back.

Kim Mingyu: you know that pair is my favorite Kim Mingyu: drives me crazy every time you wear that set Kim Mingyu: but i’ve changed my mind. i want you to keep them on Kim Mingyu: want you to keep my shirt on too You: yeah? you want me to wear your shirt while you fuck me? pull my panties to the side? Kim Mingyu: slow down baby, i’m taking my time with you

In your bed, you snort to yourself. Mingyu has never been patient with anything, but especially not with you. Most of the time he’s so keyed up, wound so tight, that it’s all the two of you can do to make it to your bed—and sometimes you don’t. Sometimes Mingyu puts all that body to use, presses your back to the wall and throws your legs over his shoulders as he eats you out. Wraps your legs around him as he fucks you right there, the slide so, so easy with how wet and messy he gets you.

You remind him of as much. Type out, you? taking your time? i’ve got a couple walls in my entryway that would say differently, and laugh when the reply comes through—can’t help myself sometimes—and promptly stop laughing at the next one: never can, with you.

Kim Mingyu: have i ever told you what i love the most? Kim Mingyu: just kissing you. you always taste so good, baby Kim Mingyu: the way you get so worked up and start grabbing at me when i’m doing it. the way you try to get me to touch you. the way you start grinding your pussy on me like you can’t go another second without me inside you

You feel like you’re on fire. Gets worse with every word you read and re-read, try to commit to memory. You know it all too well, what he’s talking about. Know how warm his skin is, how firm he feels under your touch. Know what he tastes like. How soft his lips are. The way he sounds when you start to writhe, the way he groans when he presses tighter against you, presses you into the mattress, hard cock rutting against you, enough to take the edge off but nowhere near what he needs.

You: love that too You: love when you’re inside me even more

Kim Mingyu: me too baby Kim Mingyu: love the way you feel around me Kim Mingyu: always so fucking tight Kim Mingyu: ffuck

Your stomach drops at his last message. are you touching yourself? you type, even though you already know the answer. Another sight you’re blessed to know: Mingyu’s hand wrapped around himself, how the size of his cock makes it look small in comparison. Head tilted back, abs flexing under the weight of the pleasure.

You get a singular character in reply: 응.

show me.

He doesn’t respond right away. The pause is enough to have anticipation thrumming through your veins, make you a little shaky. Your hand trembles as you trace patterns into your warm, soft skin, pretending it’s Mingyu’s touch and not your own. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that grabs at your breast beneath his shirt, thumbs over your nipple; Mingyu’s touch that has soft gasps escaping you. Pretend it’s Mingyu’s hand that dips beneath the hem of your panties.

Kim Mingyu Attachment: 1 Movie

On the screen: Mingyu’s face greets you first, eyes half-lidded and hazy, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smirk. He tilts his head back, lets you see the sweat-slick skin of his neck, the column of his throat; pans the camera down over his collar bones, his bare chest, before he flips the screen. Can barely fit the entirety of his frame in the shot, and it strikes you someplace deep, how big he is. How overwhelming.

You suck in a breath as your eyes focus—as you take in the way he’s stroking himself. His cock glistens with whatever lube he’d indulged in, but you can’t help but pretend it’s from you and your mouth. Wish you could see the way he’d touch himself as you sucked him nearly to orgasm and told him to finish himself off. The way he’d whine, beg a little, get a little shitty with you.

“Fuck,” you say out loud. You can feel your pupils blow at the thought.

“Jagiya,” comes Mingyu’s voice, intertwined with the sounds of the tv, a city so far away from you, “fuck, I’m so fu-fucking hard.”

If you’d thought you were on fire before, it’s nothing compared to now. Hearing the need in his voice, watching the way he’s touching himself. The way his hips stutter as his body seeks out more, more, more, always more, and the way he squeezes the base of his cock so he doesn’t come too soon.

“Wish it was you. Wish it was you touching me like this. I—fuck, need you so bad.”

You watch as Mingyu strokes over the head of his cock, as each subsequent pass gets more tacky and wet. Lick your lips at the sight of it. Want, more than anything, to get your mouth on him and taste the salt of his skin, the precome he’s jerking himself off with.

Before he even needs to ask, you start recording a video of your own. Leave your panties on because you know he’d want you to. Record the first pass of your fingers through your slick, let out a disbelieving little laugh at how wet you are, how you can hear it. Moan as you dip a finger into your cunt, just to the first knuckle. Say, “I’m so wet, Gyu, oh my god,” all breathy.

Not all that different from how you sound when he’s here. When he’s flesh and blood and right beside you, on top of you.

You use the wetness you’ve gathered and move your hand to your clit. It’s throbbing beneath your touch, your body already wound too tight, and you nearly hiss in oversensitivity and relief when you finally touch yourself the way you’ve wanted to. “Fuck.”

You force yourself to take your time. Slow, small circles, when everything in your body is screaming to be selfish, begging for release the same way Mingyu’s had.

“Should I finger myself?” you ask. A sharp inhale as your next pass has your toes curling. “Wo-won’t feel as good as you, but I need—need more.”

Before you cut the video, you zoom in a little. Make sure Mingyu will be able to see the way you’re touching yourself, be able to hear the sound of your arousal, the same sounds that have warmth blooming in your cheeks.

Kim Mingyu: jesusf fuck Kim Mingyu: god baby youre so hto Kim Mingyu: wanna see you finger yourself Kim Mingyu: please

It’s a little embarrassing, how incapable you are of denying him anything. You trust him implicitly, love him even more, so it’s second nature to give in, to adjust your phone so you don’t have to hold it. Second nature to press record, pull your panties to the side just like you’d proposed earlier; second nature to make a show of sticking two fingers in your mouth, sucking on them, before bringing them to your entrance and easing them inside.

Nothing compared to the stretch of Mingyu, both his fingers and his cock, but it’s still good. Enough to have you sighing softly, barely audible over the sound of everything else: the rustling of your sheets, the low thrum of your own television, you in general.

A rhythmic song and dance. Practiced. You grow wetter with each push and pull; know Mingyu will be able to see it, the way you work yourself open. That, too, has you a little dizzy. Breathless. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Not only like this, but all the time. Does he see an expiration date? Something good while it lasted? Is there just this—something carnal and superficial?

Or does he just see you?

It drives you crazy. Inspires something within you: not just the desire to please him, make it worth his while, but to be something else, something more than this. Has your fingers moving a little faster, has you grinding your clit against the palm of your hand. Has you a whining, writhing mess; has sounds spilling out that you aren’t sure you’ve ever heard come out of you.

You send it before you can overthink it. Whatever Mingyu sees in you, at least these are the images that’ll play in his mind whenever he thinks of you. At least you’ve sunk your claws into him.

Seconds pass in a blur. You’re still on the brink of a mind-numbing orgasm, stuck in this liminal space simply because Mingyu isn’t here, and you know, too, how this goes. Know you aren’t supposed to come without his say-so in the same way he edges himself until he gets yours.

Kim Mingyu: shit shit shit Kim Mingyu: i wish that was me. wanna take you apart like that. wanna finger you while i eat you out, make you squirt all over me again Kim Mingyu: fuck i thin k about that all the time Kim Mingyu: im gonna cum

I think about that all the time.

So do you. You, on your hands and knees, Mingyu eating you out from behind. Bracing yourself against the headboard with one arm, the other one reaching behind you to pull at his hair. You remember how relentless he’d been that night. A man possessed. Disregarded all your breathless pleas, every Mingyu, Gyu, fuck, fuck, Mingyu, baby— that left your mouth. His tongue left your pussy only long enough to say, you can take it, baby before he was right back at it. Before he worked in two fingers alongside his mouth. Before his free hand came down hard on your ass, the sting startling you, making you jerk, forcing you closer to his mouth.

You remember coming with a scream. You remember coming to with Mingyu’s lips to your neck, the sweet way he was speaking to you. You remember the knee-jerk embarrassment you felt when you saw the giant wet spot you’d left on the bed and how quickly it dissipated when Mingyu pressed a kiss to your temple, called you his good girl.

You: you can come, but you know the rule

You move your fingers back to your clit, feel all that pleasure flood back, start in your toes. It’s not long before you’re pulling a blistering orgasm from your body—one that feels like it belongs to Mingyu, wasn’t yours for the taking.

thank you, he replies, right beneath a photo of his abs streaked with cum.

The comedown is jarring. You feel both too big for your body and completely out of sorts now that you’ve fulfilled your role. Now that there’s nothing to do but sit in the stillness of your bedroom, that same drama playing on television, some girl getting her heart broken.

You wonder if Mingyu’s thinking the same. If his body also sags with relief, if the absence of all that tension feels crushing. If the first thought he has in this newfound clarity is also I love you and if he also swallows it down every single time. You wonder if he thinks about his role, if it’s becoming stale and tired.

Because you know what comes next:

Kim Mingyu: i’ll be home soon Kim Mingyu: can i see you

And you also know what you’ll say. After all, you’ve played this role before.

if you've made it this far thank you so much for reading! this is prob not my best work since it's a lil rushed but i needed something to get me out of my slump.

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

[unreliablesnake]

Surprises (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Price finds out at a family gathering that his favorite niece's new boyfriend is none other than Ghost. The lieutenant thinks he's in trouble. How bad can things be?

Note: A little fluff and angst. What do you think? / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Simon knew he fucked up the moment he realized you were Price's niece.

The very niece he babysat several times when you were little, the one he talked so much about whenever they were discussing family. He loved you, he was proud of you, and despite you now being an independent young woman, he still treated you as if you were an expensive and rare piece of jewelry that had to be locked away.

So yes, when he attended a family event you invited him to and met the captain there, he knew he was in trouble. You had talked about your Uncle John before, sure, even joked about the two of them possibly knowing each other, but not even in his wildest dream could he suspect the two men being the same.

And now he was sitting there across from him at the long picnic table in the garden, his blue eyes piercing through his skull. Every time you intertwined your fingers with his on top of the table or leaned over to place a soft kiss on his cheek, he could almost hear the annoyed groan leave his lips.

You suddenly rested your head on his shoulder, smiling sweetly when he looked down at you. He couldn't help himself, he just followed his instincts when he leaned down to place a kiss on the crown of your head. That move made the captain snap.

"Simon, why don't you help me bring out some nice, cold drinks?"

He gulped before nodding, his entire body suddenly going rigid from the terror he felt. "Hey, he barks, but doesn't bite. You'll be fine," you assured him as you kissed his shoulder through his shirt.

With a sigh, he stood up and followed Price into the kitchen, carefully closing the door after himself. "Look, Cap, I didn't know she was your niece. I'm sorry. But trust me, I'm serious about this relationship. I really like her," he began to explain the situation without hesitation.

But Price didn't seem interested in his excuses as he was quick to raise a hand to stop him. "I don't care, Simon. She likes you too, it's obvious and she told me before, I just don't want her to suffer if…"

If he dies on the field. That's what he wanted to say, he knew that. Nodding, he leaned against the kitchen island and folded his arms over his chest. The two of them stood there in silence for a while, trying to figure out what to do now. Simon understood why Price was so worried about this relationship, but he also had to understand that he wasn't about to give you up.

"Would you be happier if she was dating a civilian? Some loser who doesn't even know what he wants to do with his life?" he asked to break the silence.

Price drew in a sharp breath that he let out while running a hand through his hair. It was easy to tell he was dying to light a cigar, but his sister had a strict no smoking in the house rule. So he settled with the second best option and began pacing in front of him.

"You, as a person, are not the problem, Simon," he began. "You're a good man, I know that. The problem is our line of work. And the fact I'm your higher-up, and now I have to think about you not only as my right hand, but also as the boyfriend of my favorite niece. Every time I send you somewhere dangerous, I'll have to consider how she would react if something happened to you."

With a loud gulp, Simon considered his reasoning. He was right. Everything he said was understandable. "If you think it would be better if we broke up, just say it," he told him eventually.

There was no response for a while, they stood there in silence once again. But then Price shook his head and extended his hand. "Just make her happy, that's all I'm asking for," he said with a smile. "And don't tell her that we know each other. I don't want her to worry."

Hesitantly, but Simon shook his hand. He had no idea what made the captain change his mind, but he didn't have an issue with that as long as he was okay with him being with you. He then opened the fridge and began to put a selection of drinks on the counter next to it.

Once they made it back to the family, you immediately gave him a worried look, silently asking for a story he wasn't about to give you. So he lied like Price had just asked him to do, even if it hurt like hell.

"Everything's fine, he just wanted to get to know me," he told you with a smile before giving you a quick kiss. "We're good."

"Sure?" you asked with a suspicious look on your face. Simon nodded. "All right, if you say so. I'm glad he likes you," you noted with a smile on your lips.

Before he could say anything, Price raised a hand. "If I might add, you chose well, kiddo," he said with a smile before flashing a smile at the lieutenant.

"I know," you said with a triumphant smile before giving Simon a kiss.

[thatlittleegyptologist]

UK Politics Rundown: BoJo's Bizarre Exit Edition

Ok, so, people keep asking me to explain what's going on in the UK right now, mostly because they're seeing Brits just revelling in the levels of fuckery going on. So, a brief bullet pointed run down:

Most of you have probably heard of the Sentient Mop that is Boris Johnson, former Prime Minister of the UK

Most of you probably know about his penchant for lying to the public and basically not giving a fuck about it

This culminated in a huge police investigation into literal parties this man held while we were in Covid lockdown. Including one the night before Prince Phillip's funeral at which the Queen sat alone. And if you know how the press reacted to that one, you know he was in the shit for it.

Anyway, he lied about many of those parties, got fined for attending those parties, and is still technically under Parliamentary investigation for lying to Parliament while stood on the floor of the House of Commons (the room where they yell about laws every day).

There was also a Vote of No Confidence, which is a way in which the Conservatives can remove the leader of their party if they think he's terrible. Boris won this, but by a smaller margin than he would have wanted. No new vote can be held for another year based on the current rules (more on this later)

Fast forward 2 weeks from the end of that to last week and we get some news about an MP (Chris Pincher) who initially seemed to have got drunk and done *something* (as yet it was undefined) and he was suspended from the Conservative party pending investigation.

The following day (Thursday) it emerged that it was because he had allegedly sexually assaulted two men while drunk at a Conservatives club, and that there had been reports of this behaviour before. So he had the whip (basically the ability to vote as a Conservative MP) removed.

On Friday tons of Conservatives did the rounds on the news with 'oh we didn't know he was Bad. Boris definitely didn't know or he wouldn't have appointed him to his position'

On Saturday Boris does an interview where the reporter challenges him and says 'you were told about this in December 2019), Boris then admits to knowing about it but says he 'forgot'.

People are piiiiiiiiiiiised

Fast forward to Tuesday this week (5th July 2022). Late Tuesday, two Cabinet Ministers (think of like the Secretary of State/Housing etc in the US, it's roughly equivalent) Rishi Sunak (Chancellor of the Exchequer) and Sajid Javid (Health Secretary) resign, citing Boris lying to them about many things but this being the final straw.

I mean sure lads, everything else was terrible but this is what did it huh?

Don't worry about it. Their resignations were designed to do exactly what's happened so it was a calculated move.

This kicks off what you've seen in the last 48hrs, with Cabinet Ministers, Senior Ministers, and Junior Ministers all resigning. At one point it was 6 resignations an hour.

The previous record for most ministers in a 24hr period resigning was 11 in 1932. Boris did 53.

Current total of resignations is 59. He fired Michael Gove (who's been hired and fired by the last 3 Prime Ministers, so congrats on that achievement Michael!) So it's basically at 60.

There are not enough ministers in jobs currently to run most departments

Press didn't know what to do with themselves and everyone in the UK was on Facebook marking themselves as 'attending' Boris' leaving party, and generally just having a great time with governmental collapse

Yesterday Boris refused to go. You may have seen footage of the entire House of Commons telling him goodbye very sarcastically. This is the normal levels of shithousery in the House of Commons, but it's also very funny.

Boris was still refusing to go late last night, saying he had a mandate from the people. You got this in 2019, love, it doesn't count anymore.

Literally everyone was writing letters and going on TV telling him to go, including people who'd got new jobs from him 24hrs before

Anyway, between 6:45am and 8am another 10 people resigned, which is how we got to 60 after yesterday's bonanza, and by 9:15am Boris said he would resign as PM and Tory Party leader

He is literally blaming everyone but himself at this point but no one is listening to him anymore

This has triggered a Leadership election, where untold horrors await us because that person will be the new Prime Minister....until they're forced to call a General Election

However, Boris still remains as Prime Minister for now. He said he'd stay until there was a new leader elected. So he's down, but he's not yet out.

But the fun doesn't stop yet! The 1922 Committee (the backbenches of the Tory Party in Parliament) has elections for positions on Monday and they might (and probably will) elect people who want to change the rules so that another Vote of No Confidence can be held. If that happens, the rules can be changed in less than 24hrs and they'll hold another vote to oust him before a new leader is elected. Personally, I hope Theresa May wears another ballgown to this vote after she did to the last one. Boris was the one who ousted her to become leader, so she's revelling in shithousery and it's fun to see Tory on Tory violence.

Highlights of all of this include: Reporters interrupting each other to say someone else just resigned, the people heckling Boris from the gates of Downing Street, the one guy who resigned while in a Parliamentary Committee meeting with Boris that was to discuss all the lies Boris has been telling (and informed him during this meeting. He's a Tory but the balls on that man jeez), Hugh Grant (yes, film star Hugh Grant) paying a bloke to go play the Benny Hill theme tune on Live speakers around Parliament, reporters interviewing Larry the Cat who is literally a cat and responsible for keeping the mice at bay, and every single person in the UK making memes/jokes/videos and just generally having a fantastic time as the government implodes.

Will a new leader change anything? No

Are the British public scared or worried about this? No

Is it just really really fucking funny? Yes. So funny

And that, guys, gals, and non binary pals, is the current account of what's going down in the UK as of 7th July (late afternoon).

[aethelwyneleigh27]

The Type of BF/GF Cod Characters Would Be (Scenario)

You know, like that one thing circling around TikTok

Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Alex Keller, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

And yes I'm aware that some have repeated characters, some fit more than one

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

A/n: I'm honestly on a roll and I've had my morning coffee so I'll start cracking, I have been trying to post more recently since it's October and I didn't really partake in the tober fests so I thought posting more might be good. Just me or are biker fucking hot? Yeah it's probs my thing for masked men.

Disclaimers/Warnings: OOC??

Doberman Boyfriend/Girlfriend whose first instinct was to protect you when you officially became theirs, initially they were always protective in subtle ways, subtle ways that also assert dominance over others. Little things like having a hand on your lower back or gently gripping your waist to move you. Their claimed spot is behind you, since they always find it to work when intimidating others and making sure no one even glances at you the wrong way. Might seem like they're intimidating but to you it's a different story, they're sweeter, more docile? Just far more affectionate and you basically have them wrapped around your finger. Switches in the bedroom but dom leaning, can be subs if you want them to be.

Characters: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.

Golden Retriever Boyfriend/Girlfriend who are so loyal to the bone, they're fun and oftentimes a little himbo-ish? Quality is the best spent with you, kind of follows you around all the time. They're very clingy but do respect your personal space if you aren't in the mood, though that's what you love about them isn't it? That's they're insistent and wouldn't give up on you no matter what. Also love doing things for you (acts of service) and lives for it when you praise them. Switches in the bedroom, sub leaning.

Characters: John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Alex Keller, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

Tabby cat Boyfriend/Girlfriend whose chill around others but absolutely craves your affection behind closed doors. The kind of people sometimes randomly show affection in front of others even if they HATE pda. The kind of people who have been traumatized yet still affectionate as can be, everyone loves them for being down to earth but they do have bit of an odd side that only you see. Is a hardcore switch, no leaning.

Characters: Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Farah Karim, Kate Laswell, Nikolai Belinski, Philip Graves.

Black cat Boyfriend/Girlfriend who randomly bring home things that made them think of you, they knew you'd like it but only let out a subtle smirk. Lives for you being their adorable little sunshine, mean and cold towards other but less with you. Tried to give you tough love but eventually gave in because you are you. You know how cats sometimes bring you dead animals as a proof of affection and acceptance, they've done that... only with a human head of course. Providing for you and making sure you're taken care of is their love language, very protective and can really hurt people if they wanted to, someone hurts or upsets you? Their head will be displayed on your front porch. Hardcore doms in the bedroom. (Yandere AU anyone??)

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Valeria Garza, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves.