#i yearn to write yet i don't wanna

[japhgura]

I continued watching Bleach since I got my groove back and for some reason I cannot get this dumb little thingy out of my head that just rudely popped into there when I watched the Arrancar Arc

Chad picks up a weak animalistic hollow while invading hueco mundo and protects it from the stronger ones

Big guy gentle giant keeps this fragile little thing safe, gives it little headpats, it's scared and in his shirt pocket most of the time but starts sitting on his shoulder or around his neck more and more

Lots of stuff happens, he gets in a sticky situation and that weakass hollow he protected for a very very long time does like an eldritch abomination thing, lasers away the enemy and then faints, having to go back to sleep in his pocket

I might have to make a hollow (possibly (future?) arrancar) for this and then write that to get it out of my head

[buckymorelikefuckme]

and baby makes three

(the reboot)

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 11.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, pining, smut, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cockwarming (kind of??), trigger warning for having troubles with getting pregnant. it's still super fuckin soft despite all of that though, i swear.

a/n: okay so it's currently 6am as i'm typing this and i haven't been to sleep yet bc i decided to just heavily edit this instead of rewrite it bc i'm lazy i guess idk. this was posted originally back in 2021 i believe and it's still on ao3 it's just orphaned rip. i promise i'll be writing and posting new stuff soon ok pls have faith in me and cheer me on bc it's hard and scary and i don't wanna disappoint anybody :( ANYWAY, as usual, any and all mistakes are my own. if i've missed anything important pls let me know so i can correct it. feedback is encouraged (pls) and appreciated (i am begging...)

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and very unlikely. Sure, you liked kids well enough, but having one of your own…

It’s a thought that’s sat in a corner deep in your mind, buried beneath a million other impossible concepts; a thought that you’ve only ever glanced over and never gave your full attention, having ruled it out ages ago as something you just couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do.

And then, on a day like any other, it pushes its way to the forefront of your mind, making itself known and unwilling to leave.

You’re going into the clothing store to find a new cardigan after your most favorite one got eaten by the dryer. Usually you’re a single-minded shopper, walking into a store with tunnel vision and on a mission to get what you need and that’s it.

Today, however, you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander on your way to the sweater section. Your gaze just so happens to land on the baby clothes… and your steps falter. It’s there that you see it, a tiny, pink onesie with a sleeping teddy bear printed on the front, displayed on an even tinier hanger. There’s matching pants with teddy bears all over them and ruffles on the butt and all your brain can muster up is cutecutecutecutecute.

Your feet carry you closer and before you realize what you’re doing you pick up the outfit, letting out a coo when you realize the teddy bear is fuzzy, softly rubbing your thumb across it. Somehow, you walk out of the store, not with a new cardigan, but with the cute baby outfit and a bow you thought looked adorable with it.

It’s not until you get home that it hits you, that you bought baby clothes for a baby you don’t even have.

The feeling that rushes through you is hard to describe. Shame? Embarrassment?

...Yearning?

No. Definitely not. Nope.

There’s absolutely no yearning going on here, not for a baby. You’ve never even had that desire before and you certainly don’t see yourself having it now. You shake your head to clear it, telling yourself you’ll take it back tomorrow.

Except you don’t take it back. You conveniently “forget” and it stays shoved on the top shelf in your hall closet. You pretend you don’t pause in front of said closet throughout the following days—weeks—chewing on the inside of your cheek and staring at the door like you can see through the wood at the evidence of your impulsive purchase.

It gets harder to ignore, though, when you start getting ads for baby clothing brands. And baby toys, bottles, handy little gadgets for new parents, nursery decor… It’s endless.

Then, as if it wasn’t already bad enough, all of your childhood friends start popping out babies like it’s a brand new trend. You don't think you've seen your social media this flooded with pregnancy announcements and baby arrivals, ever. Your emotions are mixed; happy for them, and for their excitement, but there’s also a weird discomfort settled in your stomach.

You hesitate to be that person who thinks the universe is trying to tell you something, but you do wonder. Why else would you suddenly have these feelings? Why else would there be baby stuff everywhere you look now?

It brings on other thoughts, as well. In this day and age, it’s not too unusual for women to have babies without being married, or without a significant other at all. There is the pressure, still, to at least be in a relationship, but considering you’ve been practically in love with one of your closest friends for the last two years, it’s safe to say that you’re tragically single, so having a baby with someone is out of the question.

And god, do you even want a baby?

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, with a sudden clarity that hits you like a ton of bricks, you realize you do. It feels like a freight train has slammed into you. Your mind’s eye supplies you with images of a swollen belly and wide smile, a precious baby wrapped in a soft blanket, cradled in your arms, a gummy grin and happy giggle.

Emotion consumes you then, longing like you’ve never felt in your life, chest aching with how badly you want that.

It’s not as if you’re too young. You’re plenty old enough and you’ve got a secure job. You don’t subscribe to that whole biological clock nonsense, but you do feel that if you are going to potentially have a baby, it might be better to do it now while you’re still in relatively good health.

You groan, dropping your face into your open palms, the movie you'd been watching to try and distract yourself long forgotten as it continues to play on the television.

This is a lot to think about, you ponder to yourself. Taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly, you decide the mature thing to do is give yourself more time to ruminate on it. Having a baby is no small decision. You need to be absolutely certain it’s what you want. It’s going to change your entire life, everything, and you’d be responsible for a new life. So, you’ll have to give yourself a few months to decide and then you can go from there.

***

You’re scrolling through yet another article on your laptop, engrossed in every detail of the process of artificial insemination and the symptoms and side effects that come with it. So engrossed, in fact, that you don’t hear the key turning in the lock, the door opening and closing, and the heavy footfalls that follow.

It’s only when Bucky asks, “Whatcha reading?” that you are even aware of his presence.

You startle so hard that your knee slams into the underside of your table. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your knee and your wildly beating heart, you close your laptop with a snap and turn to Bucky.

“You could knock,” you grouse.

“Why give me a key, then?” he retorts, unapologetic.

You roll your eyes and grumble under your breath, “Clearly, it was a mistake.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

Brows furrowed, you ask, “What?”

He gestures to your laptop. “What were you reading? Your nose was nearly smushed against the screen.”

You blink, trying to think of a reasonable excuse and coming up empty.

“Nothing,” is all your brilliant mind can supply.

Bucky’s eyes narrow for a few seconds, and you pray to every higher power and all that is holy and good that he won’t press further. You remain frozen under Bucky’s suspicious stare, hearing that Old West shootout music playing in your mind.

Thankfully, it seems the deities are feeling indulgent, as Bucky chooses let it go.

He holds up the bags he carried in. “I brought lunch.”

You perk up instantly. “Did you go to that one place—?”

“With the fried rice you like so much, yes,” he finishes for you, smiling.

“You’re the best,” you sigh, stomach rumbling eagerly.

“I know,” he replies, solemn and dramatic like the idiot he is.

He begins taking out the styrofoam boxes and chattering on about something dumb Steve did the other day, and you mean to listen, you really do. It’s just. That article is still lingering in your brain. There’s so many steps and hassles. Plus, it’s not cheap. It would be a hefty investment.

You’d only researched it because, after months of contemplating the pros and cons of having a baby, you determined the pros far outweigh the cons. But then the problem was: how to even make it happen.

Your first thought was that you didn’t think you’d let just any man come inside you, for many obvious reasons. You’d shuddered to think of it. Then there was surrogacy, which is admirable and wonderful, but you’d quickly dismissed that idea as you realized you wanted to actually carry the baby yourself. So that led you to artificial insemination. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet. There was something a little too clinical about choosing a random man’s sperm to have injected into your uterus.

Bucky’s still speaking as he grabs plates and forks, unaware of your inner monologue. “And then he got Sam involved,” he’s saying, scooping out food onto the plates, “which, as you know, I always think is a dumb thing to do.”

“I want to have a baby,” you blurt, eyes widening at your outburst.

Bucky fumbles with the spoon, sending fried rice flying, muttering curses as he tries to catch it with no luck as it lands with a dull clunk on the table. The silence that follows is loud. It feels like your heart is in your throat as you wait for him to just say something, anything.

“This is… quite a mess I’ve made,” Bucky finally observes. His voice is a bit higher than usual. “Where’s your vacuum? Actually, do you have one of those mini ones? Or would Clorox wipes be better? You know what, I’ll do both.”

He nods decisively then turns an expectant look towards you. His eyes look a bit wild, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

Wordlessly, you direct him to your hall closet. You realize your error a second too late when he opens the closet and reaches for the vacuum on the top shelf, where the purchase you’d made months ago also rests. His fingers get caught in the plastic bag when he grabs the handheld vacuum and its contents spill out. He goes to catch them right away, but once it registers what they are, he lets go of them like they’re on fire and nearly drops the vacuum on his foot.

Heat has been steadily creeping up your neck, but now your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment. The two of you stare at the baby clothes lying unassumingly on the floor for a long moment, until Bucky quietly walks back to the table with the vacuum clutched tightly in his fist. He flicks the switch on and it whirs to life, sucking up the bits of rice scattered around the table.

There’s another lengthy silence after he turns the vacuum off and you're unable to find the right thing to say to break it. Bucky does it for you.

“So… You’re serious.”

You meet his eyes and sigh heavily. “Yeah.”

He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, schooling his expression carefully. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone.”

You cough lightly and start picking the peas out of your fried rice. “Well, that would be because I’m not.”

“I don’t think I follow,” he admits slowly.

You sigh again, lowering your gaze to your lap. “Look, I’ve thought about this a lot, okay? I’ve given myself months to really make sure it’s what I want. I’m in a good place in my life to have one, Bucky, and I don’t want to feel pressured to wait until I might get married.” You lift your gaze to his. “I want to have a baby,” you repeat firmly. “And I don’t need a partner to have one.”

You’re not sure why you feel the need to defend yourself. It’s not up to Bucky what you decide to do. You don’t need his approval, or anyone else’s. Maybe it’s because, even though you know it's not true, it feels like you're making too hasty of a decision.

After a beat, Bucky amends, “Well, I mean… You do…”

“Oh my god, shut up, you know what I mean,” you groan as you smack his arm, glad that he's not calling you crazy or trying to talk you out of it.

He doesn’t even flinch, the jerk.

“Wait, so what were you reading when I got here?” he suddenly questions, brows furrowed.

“Nothing,” you say too quickly, guiltily.

“Let me see your laptop then,” he counters as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You flounder for a second, scoffing. “What? No!”

“It can’t be that embarrassing, just show me,” he wheedles.

“Absolutely not.”

“Let me see!”

“It’s private!”

“Don’t be a chicken.”

Your eye twitches. “I’m not a chicken.” Bucky smirks and before he can even open his mouth you interject with a finger pointed accusingly at his face, “Do not start clucking at me, Bucky. I’ll kick your ass,” you threaten, though it's weak and you're not the only one who knows it.

You glare when his smirk only widens. Slowly, he moves his arms like he’s gonna flap them like chicken wings.

“Ugh! God, fine! You wanna know what I was reading?” You open your laptop and slide it over to him, turning it to where he can read it. “There.”

Bucky scans the page, then scans it again, eyes flicking all over like it’s in a different language. His cheeks grow redder and redder as he reads and you get a small sense of satisfaction at the sight.

“Wow,” he mutters finally. “You’re turkey baster serious.”

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“What?” he asks innocently.

When you make eye contact with him, you purse your lips to keep the laughter threatening to bubble out at bay, but the ever growing smile on Bucky’s face is hard to resist and you find yourself snorting a laugh that leads to uncontrollable giggles. Bucky’s laughing with you, his eyes crinkling on the sides. The tension you hadn’t realized you held in your shoulders loosens and you nudge his knee with yours in silent thanks.

“So,” he says after you've both calmed down.

“So,” you repeat, dragging it out, drumming your fingers on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing research, checking out all of my options, and while artificial insemination seems like the best choice… I don’t know, there’s just something too clinical about it,” you reply, voicing your concerns, “It doesn’t feel right. I know I said I don’t need a partner, and I don’t, but… Having absolutely no connection is weird.”

You shrug, waving a hand as if to say oh well, putting an end to the conversation, and pick up your plate to carry it over to the microwave. You reheat Bucky’s food while you’re up, and then you both start eating in comfortable silence. He gets halfway through his meal before speaking up.

“Have you… I mean, did you think about… I’ve heard that, uh. Some people ask another person…”

He trails off, clearly frustrated that he can’t just spit out what he’s trying to say. You think you understand what he means, though.

“I read up on surrogacy,” you say, biting your lip. “But I don’t think I’d want someone else to carry my baby.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—I wasn’t suggesting, uh, that. Not that there’s anything wrong with it!” he rushes to say.

You tilt your head. “What did you mean then?”

“Well,” Bucky starts, stilted, licking his lips. “For the artificial insemination, have you considered… you know. Asking someone you’re close with?”

You frown, not following.

“For—for the sperm,” he clarifies, shifting in his seat.

“Oh,” you breathe, blinking rapidly, surprised as you think of how to reply. “Um. No? I wouldn’t even know who I could ask, to be honest. That’s quite the request, you know? Who would—“

“Me,” he interrupts, determined and cheeks flushed, “I would.”

Your own face heats. “Oh,” you say again, quieter.

You can say, with full confidence, that not once did it cross your mind to ask anyone to help you, but you especially would have never given thought to asking Bucky.

For a list of reasons, really, with “it’s Bucky” being right at the very top. Like—sure, yes, you’re in love with him, but after two years of no signs of reciprocation you’ve learned to stop dreaming, to stop hoping. If the attraction was mutual he would have shown it by now, right? And on top of that, his friendship means the world to you and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. You'd never forgive yourself if you ever managed to fuck up the one good, constant thing going for you.

“Bucky,” you start, slow and careful, “this… This isn't something you can just jump into. It’s something you should think about for a while.”

He contemplates that for a second. “You’re right,” he concedes with a nod. “But…” He purses his lips, glancing away for a minute before turning back to you, leaning forward. “Okay listen, this is important for you. It’s going to change your whole life. You said it yourself, not having a connection to the sperm donor feels wrong. You’re my best friend, alright? I—care about you. You should pick someone you can trust.”

He clenches his jaw after he finishes speaking. You sort of hate the way your heart both flutters and plummets at his words. It’s nice to know you matter to him, just not in the way you’ve wanted for too long.

And if you’re really honest with yourself, Bucky would be a great choice as a donor. He’s in great health, has strong features that would look wonderful on any gender. But would you be able to handle the repercussions of having his child? Would you be able to look at your baby and see those features without it sending a pang through your chest every single time? You can’t say for certain.

Yet, the chance to have that type of connection with him, selfishly, sounds too good to pass up.

“At least think about it for a few days,” you murmur reluctantly.

It’s the most acceptance he’ll get and he knows it. A smile blooms across his face and you have to swallow down the warring emotions rising within you.

***

With the amount of research you do on the subject now, it doesn’t take long for you to find out that there are at-home kits for artificial insemination that are much easier (and cheaper). It’s easy to settle on that, clicking on the info to order your kit with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You read through the instructions online and it all sounds simple enough, until you get to the part where it says that having an orgasm after injection helps increase your chances of conception.

Blinking, heat crawling up your neck, you read that step several times, hoping you read it wrong, but it doesn’t change.

You… You can’t masturbate with Bucky’s sperm inside you. That’s a line you refuse to cross.

And besides, he’s a healthy man in his thirties who exercises regularly and eats fairly healthy food! You probably—definitely—won’t need to take that step. It’ll be fine. Probably.

Once the kit arrives, you call Bucky and ask him to come over so you can explain the process to him. Since he’s only across the hall of your apartment building, he’s there a moment later, letting himself in with his key.

“Let’s make a baby,” is how he greets you.

“Hold your horses,” you reply, fighting back a laugh. “I gotta walk you through everything first.”

He plops himself down next to you on your couch. “Fine, fine. Go ahead.”

Squaring your shoulders, you begin telling him how it all works, and what parts he is key for. You speak through your awkwardness, avoiding eye contact, when you explain that he’ll need to masturbate into a clean, sterile cup. You leave out how it’s suggested for you to also masturbate, deciding it’s not pertinent information for him to know.

“When do we start?” he asks once you’re done.

“I have to take an ovulation test first to find out the best days for me to conceive, but once I do that we’ll be able to, um.” You gesture vaguely. “I’ll be able to do the injections.”

He nods. “Alright.” He looks at you then, taking your hand in his and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here every step of the way, okay?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome,” he returns softly.

“No, really, thank you,” you assert. “This is a lot to take on and I can never fully repay you.”

Bucky shakes his head. “I want you to be happy, and I can see that having this baby is going to do that. I’ll do whatever I need to do to ensure it happens.”

You pull him into a hug, willing yourself to not cry. You’re not sure he’ll ever understand what this means for you, personally, or that you’d ever find a way to express it. He’s giving you so much more than just a baby.

***

The first injection time comes and you find yourself fidgeting where you sit as you wait for Bucky to bring over the, uh… sample. You do your best to not think about what he’s doing in his apartment, to not think about exactly how he’s collecting his sperm.

Now is not the time, you mentally scold yourself. Get it together.

A timid knock at your door alerts you to his presence. The fact he’s knocking says a lot about his own level of embarrassment about the situation.

His cheeks are pink when you open the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi,” you return.

He clears his throat and lifts the small cup in his hand. “Here’s… well, you know.”

You gingerly take it from him, not knowing what else to say, but when he smiles somewhat crookedly and turns to leave, you find yourself asking, “Will you stay?”

Bucky’s steps pause. “Huh?”

“Will you—I mean… Would you mind staying?” You shift on your feet. “This is a big moment for me. I-I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Are you asking me to…?” He trails off awkwardly.

“Oh! God, no, I wouldn’t—no,” you assure, huffing a laugh, “I’m doing the injection, I just need a little moral support. That’s all.”

Bucky smiles. “Sure, I’ll stay.”

Relief floods through you. You step aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. He follows you to your bedroom and just before entering you stop in your tracks, nearly causing Bucky to bump into you.

“Um,” you mutter, turning to him. “You’ll have to, ah, sit out here,” you explain. “I have to be lying down…”

Understanding dawns on him. “Oh! Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

“I’ll let you know when I’m done,” you promise.

He nods and watches you close the door. You walk over to your bed and sit down, glancing at the syringe you’ll be using and biting the inside of your cheek.

This is it. There’s really no going back after this. Sure, you may not get pregnant the first time, but Bucky’s already said he’d help you for as long as it takes. It’s just… very real now. You don’t feel any doubts, though. You want this.

Inhaling a large breath and slowly letting it out, hands shaking, you take the lid off the cup and pick up the syringe. You remember the instructions, making sure there’s as little air sucked in as possible when you draw out the semen, and getting rid of the few air bubbles that you see. You grab your pillows and lie down, propping them beneath you to lift your hips.

“Here I go,” you mumble to yourself, taking another deep breath and releasing it.

A couple minutes later, the syringe is empty and you’ve got your legs pulled up to your chest. You cover yourself with your blanket and call out Bucky’s name.

“You okay?” you hear through the door.

“Will you come here, please?” you ask.

He walks in cautiously, making sure you’re decently covered before entering fully, wisely not commenting on your position. “Well?”

“I did it,” you whisper.

He stays quiet, letting you parse through your thoughts. You blink when you feel tears threatening to gather in your eyes. He’s beside you in an instant, crawling in the bed and lying down, taking your hand in his.

“Congratulations,” he says softly.

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” you reply, sniffing and wiping at your eyes.

“Still,” he presses. “You’re one step closer now.”

He pulls your hand up and kisses the back of it. You give him a watery smile. The two of you lay there in silence for a moment before Bucky breaks it.

“This isn’t how I pictured myself making a baby.”

It startles a laugh out of you and Bucky grins, pleased to have helped ease the tense atmosphere. He distracts you with idle conversation after that, talking about his plans for the upcoming weekend, asking about yours, tells you about the newest stupid thing Sam did; he talks and talks and talks, until your anxiety is gone, and then he stays to cook dinner for you.

Your hug when he gets ready to head back to his apartment lasts a couple minutes longer than usual. Bucky quietly allows it, dropping a kiss on your forehead when you pull away.

“Same time next week?” he jokes, making you crack a smile.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you reply exasperatedly as you close your door.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he returns over his shoulder.

***

Weeks pass. More injections. Pregnancy tests taken.

But nothing happens.

All of your tests come back negative.

When reading up on artificial insemination, and pregnancy in general, you’d understood that there was a chance it wouldn’t happen right away. You thought you were fine with that, that you’d be alright with the waiting and all. Looking at your growing collection of negative tests, however, has a sense of dread building within you. You do your best to quell it, telling yourself there’s no need to stress over it. Yet.

Besides, your mind supplies in an overly cheerful manner, there’s still one more method to try!

***

The next time Bucky brings over his sample, he lets himself in, like always, and passes along the cup with an encouraging smile. You try to smile back, but it feels more like a grimace. He either doesn’t notice or he at least pretends not to, thankfully.

But when he goes to make himself comfortable to wait, you’re reminded that you haven’t told him about the, uh… change in procedure, so to speak.

You clear your throat delicately. “I don’t think you’ll need to stick around this time.”

Bucky frowns. “Why not?”

“Because…” You trail off, cheeks pinking, yet not finishing the sentence, because how do you explain this?

“I promised you I’d be here every step of the way,” he recalls. “I intend to keep that promise.”

You wince. “I really appreciate where your heart is, Bucky, I really do, but I literally cannot let you be here for this injection.”

“Why not?”

You look heavenward for mercy. “I have to…”

When you don’t finish your sentence again, Bucky raises a single brow, gesturing for you to go on. “You have to… what?”

You huff, throwing your arms out. “I have to orgasm, okay?”

His eyes go a little bit wide, but you can tell he tries to control his reaction. He swallows, shifting where he sits on the couch.

“Oh,” he mumbles. “Have… have you had to do that before?”

“No. Well, I mean, it was suggested, but I never…”

His eyebrows furrow. “Does it help or something?”

You absently scratch your neck. “They say it increases the chances of conception.”

“But you haven’t been doing… that.”

“I didn’t think I’d need to.”

Bucky inhales like he’s going to say something, but then doesn’t.

“Yeah, so, I don’t think you should be here,” you utter, quickly adding, “No offense.”

“No, yeah, that’s fair, um. I’ll just—I’ll head back to my apartment,” he states as he stands. “You can—I mean, if you still want me to—I can come back over? After you… uh…”

“I’ll let you know,” you reply, voice tight and high.

He nods, looking lost and like he wants to say more but thinks better of it. Finally, he mutters a soft bye and is out the door.

Alone now, your stomach feels like it’s tying itself in knots and your heart is doing its damnedest to beat out of your chest. You try to tell yourself that it’s just another injection, that this is the same as any other time you've done this, but you know it’s not. It's really, really not.

Laying down on your bed, syringe in hand, is much more nerve wracking than before. On your left lies a new addition to your routine. You don’t know why you’re acting like such a prude all the sudden. It’s not like you’ve never masturbated before. Though, you suppose the major difference is that you didn’t have Bucky’s sperm hangin’ out in your vagina all those other times while you did it.

“Quit being such a goober about this,” you tell yourself.

This has to be done for a reason. If you want to have a baby—and you do, very badly—then you’re gonna have to deal with the process.

Once you’ve injected the sperm, you reach for your bullet vibrator next to your left hand. The instructions say not to insert anything, only to stimulate your clit. You try to clear your head, think of it as a chore or something, yet it’s hard not to think of a certain someone.

The vibrator buzzes with the press of a button. You adjust your hips, making sure they’re tilted, then bring the vibrator to your clit. The first touch makes your stomach tense and thighs spasm.

You close your eyes, running the toy along your slit. You really don’t want to drag this out, would prefer to get it over with as quickly as possible, but your mind begins running away with images.

Bucky, settled between your spread thighs, one hand resting on one of them, the other controlling the vibrator. You imagine he’d tease you, slowly trail it along the crease of your thighs, over your hips; everywhere but where you wanted it.

Bucky would probably give in once you whine and beg enough, once your desperation bled into your voice, and hold the vibrator directly to your clit, drink in your cries of pleasure like they’re the finest whisky.

He’d mutter soft but firm encouragement, tell you how good you’re doing, how good you sound. He’d start circling the vibrator, going from quick to lazy swirls, then he’d change the setting to a higher one just to hear you whimper. His free hand would run up your torso to pinch at your nipples for added stimulation.

When you imagine him leaning down to add his tongue into the mix, your mind blanks as your climax hits you, a ragged moan forcing its way out of your throat. You’re quick to turn the vibrator off and toss it to the floor, deciding you’ll worry about cleaning it later, chest heaving as you pant for breath after an intense orgasm.

Shame and embarrassment consume you, mock you for using Bucky to rub one out. You’d given in to the fantasy so easily.

Truthfully, it’s not the first time you’ve thought of him while pleasuring yourself, but the context this time is completely different, and you feel immediately guilty. Admittedly, it’s probably irrational.

That doesn’t stop you from cringing at your actions.

***

You’re sure you’ve bought out the entire pregnancy test section from the convenience store down the block. Currently, there are six different brands in front of you, all promising the most accurate results.

Bucky is sitting in your bedroom, quietly waiting for you to pee on all of them so you can both find out what they say. You chug the last bit of your third bottle of water even though your bladder is fit to burst at any moment. Turning the faucet on for modesty, you make quick work of the tests, then wash your hands.

And wait.

You call Bucky into the bathroom with you. The two of you quietly sit on the edge of your bathtub, counting down the minutes. Part of you wishes Bucky would say something dumb to break the tension, like he usually does, but you're also kind of glad he's just here, next to you, a silent comfort.

It seems like hours have passed when you’re finally sure you can check them.

The first one is negative, and so is the second. The third, however, reads positive. Your heart begins racing, clutching at the counter, but before your hopes get too carried away you read the rest. To your dismay, they are all negative. You stare down at them all, eyes falling on the loan positive test multiple times, knowing that it’s likely a false positive, yet stupidly hoping otherwise.

Your chin wobbles. Bucky hugs you from behind, resting his cheek on your shoulder.

“What do I do, Bucky?”

At your broken whisper, he sighs. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

Neither of you know what to say or do after that. Bucky continues offering quiet support, his solid presence at your back, and you’re grateful. Eventually, he leads you out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, sitting you down at the table as he starts preparing dinner.

When you’re both eating the spaghetti he made, he breaks the silence.

“Do you think…” he starts, pausing to think of how to phrase his question before carefully carrying on. “Are you going to stop?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer, the implied but hanging heavy in the air.

Bucky sits his fork down. “I know you want this, very much.” He pushes his hair out of his face as he leans forward, elbows settling on the table. “But I hate seeing how sad you get when the tests come out negative. I feel so… powerless. Like I could be doing more or something.”

“You’re doing all you can, Bucky,” you assure.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t think I am.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

He licks his lips, locking his fingers together. “I think we should have sex.”

Your fork drops to your plate with a clang, eyes going wide.

“I apologize for how blunt that came out,” he states with a wince. “But, I mean, think about it. You’ve only been using my sperm from a syringe, and up until the last time, you hadn’t been, um, orgasming with it.” You look away, bashful. “I just wonder if maybe trying the old-fashioned way would give you better results.”

“Bucky,” you start, opening and closing your mouth a couple times before shaking your head. “It’s one thing for you to offer your sperm, which I’m thankful for, truly, but… Having sex?”

“I’ve already told you I’m willing to do whatever I need to do,” he retorts earnestly. “Your happiness means a lot to me, okay? I hate sitting around and watching your heart break every week. You’ve tried it your way, now I think we should try mine.”

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek, knee beginning to bounce under the table.

His hand slides onto your knee, stilling the movement as he ducks his head to meet your gaze. His eyes are impossibly sincere and your resolve crumbles in an instant.

“It won’t… It’s not going to change anything,” he assures. “I won’t allow it.”

You swallow roughly. He may not, but your heart is going to take its toughest beating yet. It’s going to be hopeless trying to overcome the inevitable emotions that come with sex.

Even so, somehow, your longing for a baby eclipses all of this. Now that you’ve imagined holding your child in your arms, raising them and loving them, you can’t go back. Not anymore.

“Okay,” you allow, softly.

Bucky’s shoulders relax, lips tipping up into a devastating smile.

You’re so fucked. (Pun intended.)

***

Two nights later, you’re pacing in your bedroom, impatiently waiting for Bucky to arrive. You’d been unsure whether or not you should dress up. You didn’t see the point, honestly. Still, a small part of you wondered what his reaction would be if he saw you all done up in lingerie. At the moment, you’re in an oversized t-shirt and pajama shorts.

It’s Bucky, you think, and this isn’t a normal situation, it doesn’t matter what I’m wearing.

You hear his key turning in the lock then and your heart begins hammering away. He calls your name as he enters.

“In here,” you reply, twisting your fingers nervously.

He walks into your room looking just as on edge as you are. He also seems to have had the same idea about his attire, comfortable in his white tee and sweatpants. His feet are bare and for whatever reason that feels way more intimate than it has any right to.

“Hey,” he greets.

“Hi.”

You bite your lip, eyes flitting around your room and coming back to settle on Bucky. He huffs.

“This is ridiculous,” he declares, “It’s just us.”

“Right,” you nod, biting the inside of your cheek.

“It’s not gonna be weird.”

“Nope.”

His jaw ticks. You stare back at him. It only takes a moment for you to realize that somebody has to make the first move, so you steel yourself and turn on your heel, walking towards your bed.

“I’m keeping my shirt on,” you announce as you unceremoniously drop onto the mattress, grabbing your pillows to stuff them under you.

Bucky follows at a sedate pace, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He pauses next to you, taking a second to roll his shoulders, then he climbs in and settles in front of your bent legs. He gingerly places his hands on your knees.

“May I?” he asks.

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod. He moves his hands to the waistband of your shorts and tugs. You lift your hips to help him slide them down and off, along with your underwear. Gently, he spreads your legs.

Your breathing has picked up considerably, eyes firmly trained on the ceiling. You know you’re already wet and are blessedly thankful he doesn’t mention it.

The first slide of his fingers has you inhaling sharply. He slowly gathers your slick and trails it up to your clit, lightly circling it. Your mind recalls your fantasy, but you quickly shove it back to the depths of your thoughts, lest you do something idiotic like tell him about it.

He spreads your legs more, adjusting his position between them. His fingers move down until he can sink one into you. You gasp, hands shooting out to grasp your sheets. He wastes no time and begins thrusting his finger inside you.

It becomes quickly apparent to you that it’s going to be very difficult to hold back any noise or reactions. Goddamnit, you will try, though!

When he decides it’s time to add another finger, you feel yourself clench around them, and his soft fuck does not go unnoticed, evident in the way your pussy traitorously clenches again.

“Can I…?” he asks, voice cracking, but doesn’t finish his thought, making you have to break your staring contest with the ceiling and look at him.

He’s not even looking back at you, he’s staring at his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you, half bent over with a slack jaw, like he wants to…

He meets your eyes then, licking his lips.

Oh.

Swallowing around the sudden lump in your throat, knowing you’re probably going to regret it, you nod.

He’s leaning over and sucking on your clit before you can even blink. You cry out, thighs trying to clamp around his head, but his free hand shoots out to hold you open. It makes you squirm, fisting the sheets even tighter. His fingers curl inside you as his tongue licks around them and you whine, high and needy, and then mouth is back on your clit, tongue swiping over it, sucking on it with loud, obscene noises.

His hand comes up to grab the hem of your shirt, shoves it upward until it’s bunched underneath your breasts. Those fingers ghost back down your torso, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

He speeds up his thrusts and your hand flies down to grip his hair. You don’t think you’re meant to hear the quiet grunt he lets out, but you do, and it has you panting even harder. Your orgasm is building, fast, and you pull on his hair in warning.

“Bucky,” you say on a gasp.

Using his arm to hold you down, his free hand joins, thumb swiping over your clit now as he dips his head to slide his tongue in alongside his fingers. It draws a yell out of you, the ever expanding pleasure within you bursting into the hardest orgasm you’ve experienced thus far in your adult life. You know you’re moaning, bucking into the sensations coursing through you, and you’d feel abashed if you didn’t feel so fucking good.

Before you can become too sensitive, Bucky withdraws his fingers and sits up. You can’t even really catch your breath, though, because in the next second he’s whipping his t-shirt off and shoving his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock.

Your thighs do clamp closed then, at the sight of how thick he is, and he tries and fails to keep his smirk hidden.

“Oh, shut up,” you wheeze.

“Didn’t say anything,” he counters.

He doesn’t let you argue, choosing that moment to shuffle closer and line up with your opening. Cautiously, he eases himself inside, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, brows furrowing as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly. When he’s in as far as he can go, the breath wooshes out of him, his head falling back. You know he’s trying to be polite and let you adjust, but—

“Oh my god, move,” you demand, impatient.

He huffs a laugh, dropping his heavy lidded gaze to yours. “Bossy.”

“Did you really expect anything else—oh!”

The grin he aims your way after grinding into you is downright sinful. You mentally tell yourself to kick him for that later.

He grabs your hips and the pillows and settles you closer to his lap, changing the angle, then pulls out and glides back in, creating a painstakingly slow rhythm.

You have to close your eyes. You can’t look at him anymore. You knew he was probably a god in bed, but to now have firsthand experience? There was no way you’d be able to fuck anyone else without comparing them.

His grip on your hips tightens, the only warning you get before his thrusts turn sharp.

“Fuck,” you cry out, your hands reaching up to grip the pillow beneath your head.

The sound of your skin meeting his is harsh in the otherwise quiet room. Well, okay, you’re not exactly being quiet, but you can’t be blamed for that.

Bucky, however, is nearly silent. The only thing you hear from him is heavy breathing. You wonder if he’s holding back, the thought crossing your mind for a split second, and then you’re clenching around his cock, trying to see if you can gain a reaction. And boy, do you get one.

He grunts and sucks in a breath, lips parting as his eyes squeeze shut. His hips pick up their pace and hair falls into his face. You find yourself wishing he was closer so you could brush it out of the way.

Stop it, you scold yourself.

He pauses to grind into you again, your walls fluttering around his throbbing cock, and you both sigh. Bucky leans forward, hooking your legs into the crooks of his elbows, and resumes his brutal pace.

“O-Oh,” you whimper.

The new angle is heavenly, his cock dragging along a spot inside you that you thought nobody else could find. Unable to help yourself, you clutch at his arms, nails digging in.

“Shit,” he groans, thrusts faltering.

He lets go of one of your legs to slip his hand between you, rubbing at your clit and sending you that much closer to your second orgasm. He can tell you’re close, but you’re gonna need something to push you over the edge. He leans down even closer, breath fanning out against your cheek.

“C’mon,” he pants. “Let go.”

You shiver when his tongue flicks your earlobe and sucks it into his mouth, keening as the pressure builds. He thrusts harder, faster, and when you grasp his hair and pull, he growls and latches on to your shoulder, biting down. You gasp from the added pain and then you’re coming, shuddering and whining through your release. Bucky isn’t far behind, raising up and fucking into you savagely before pausing abruptly, groaning as he finally comes. He lazily thrusts a few more times to draw it out, then stops, stilling with his cock inside you.

Your hair is sticking to your forehead, as well as your shirt to your clammy back, breathing in lungfuls of air. Bucky is softly caressing your thighs, letting out shaky breaths as your pussy continues to flutter around him.

It takes several moments for you to gather your wits, for the rest of the world to come filtering back in. You are truly and completely fucked now, in every sense of the word.

“Well…” You trail off, voice scratchy.

“That was…”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Let’s hope it worked this time.”

You hum. “Thank you for your service,” you reply with a lazy salute.

You yelp when he pinches your hip, kicking at him in retaliation. The jostling reminds you, with a gasping groan, that he’s still buried balls deep inside you.

“Um.” You cough lightly. “You wanna, you know… pull out?”

He looks down where you’re connected like it hadn’t even dawned on him. “Oh, uh. Well, I thought maybe it could, like. Help.”

His gaze stays locked, fingers flexing on your hips, and you feel like squirming again.

“I think it’s good,” you say quietly.

Bucky finally glances back up at your shy tone, cheeks pinking. He clears his throat.

“Right.”

Carefully, he eases his softening cock out of you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making a noise.

You can’t hold back yours, though, gasping once he’s gone. You feel unbearably empty, but refrain from voicing that incessant thought.

Bucky’s intense eyes stare at your pussy until you reach for the throw blanket next to you. He watches you throw it over your lap, drawing your legs up to your chest, and takes that as his cue, jolting into action.

“Okay, so.” He starts, then stops, climbs off your bed and pulls his sweatpants back up. “This was—I mean, if it doesn’t take this time, we can… try again.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Sounds good.”

He nods, bending to pick up his discarded t-shirt. “Great. I’ll just, um, see myself out, I guess.”

You nod, sending a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes in his direction. He seems to contemplate something for a second, then leans down to kiss your forehead before saying a quick goodbye and leaving.

As soon as you hear your apartment door shut, you let your tears fall.

***

It’s not really like you mean to avoid him after that.

Honest.

You simply become busy, that’s all. You definitely don’t go out of your way by taking the stairs in your apartment building to avoid possibly bumping into him in the elevator. No, you take the stairs because you could use the cardio. It’s important you stay healthy right now. And when he texts you to ask if you want to have dinner, you can’t help that you’ve got boatloads of work to catch up on—all five times he asks.

Okay, so, that’s a lie. You’re totally avoiding him. But what on earth are you supposed to say to him now? You don’t think you’d even be able to look him in the eye anymore, not after the fuck of your goddamn life.

That night confirmed what you already knew for the last two years: Bucky absolutely ruined you for anyone else.

More than anything, though, you were angry with yourself. He’d only offered because you weren’t getting your desired results the other way. You should have been able to separate your feelings and emotions from all of it. After all, none of this was about whatever you feel towards Bucky. This was about trying to conceive a baby.

You try telling yourself to get over it. He’s your best friend, you can’t just cut him off because you’re a spineless pansy.

I just need some time, you reason. You can give yourself a few days to wallow over what could have been and then you can reach out to him and pretend like everything is fine. Because it is.

***

Flash forward two weeks to you attempting to sneak into your apartment, only to jump out of your skin when you turn around and find Bucky sitting on your couch, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” he drawls.

His tone suggests annoyance. You suppose you deserve that.

“Hey,” you say after a pause.

He stares at you for a moment longer before speaking again. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t let it get weird.”

You agreed, you almost say, thankfully biting it back. You drop your purse on the entryway table, sliding your shoes off and making your way over to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. You tug your sweater sleeves down and tuck your feet beneath you. “I haven’t ever… I’ve never been intimate with a friend before. It was just… a lot.”

It’s a half truth, at least. You haven’t had sex with a friend before. Or, well, not one you had feelings for.

“You could’ve just told me,” he replies, reaching for your hand.

You nod. “I know, and I should have, I just. Things are all out of whack lately with the whole… trying to get pregnant thing.”

“If I overstepped in any way—” Bucky starts, but you’re quick to interrupt.

“You didn’t,” you promise. “You’ve been nothing but fantastic throughout this whole ordeal. Honestly, Bucky, you’ve done way more than anyone else would have in this situation. I just had a lot going on in my head and let it get the best of me. I’m fine, I swear.”

He searches your eyes and must find what he’s looking for.

“Don’t shut me out again,” he pleads.

Heart cracking in your chest, you can only nod, shuffling closer to pull him into a hug. He buries his face in your neck and holds on tight.

***

Another week passes.

Bucky is with you as you wait for the results of the latest pregnancy test. He’s reassured you that you’ll keep trying until it happens if it didn’t work this time.

When the timer on your phone goes off, you release the breath you’ve been holding. You take tentative steps over to the sink and gingerly pick up the test.

Positive.

Your stomach swoops. It’s positive. You check again, reading the digitized screen, but it stays the same. Positive. Holy shit.

“Okay, wait, no, I need to do more. I can’t get my hopes up again,” you mutter, rushing to open the cabinet under your sink to dig out several more varieties of tests.

You don’t even wait for Bucky to leave before you’re peeing on the other sticks. He’s seen it all at this point anyway, and he doesn’t seem to care, sitting on the edge of your tub with an anxious expression. The downside is that you have to wait another few minutes for these tests to finish and you can’t sit still, pacing back and forth in the small space of your bathroom.

The timer goes off again. You feel like you’re going to throw up when you finally work up the courage to look down.

Every single one of them… Positive.

A shocked, happy laugh escapes you. You cover your mouth, turning to Bucky with wide eyes.

He rises to his full height, coming closer and peering down at the tests, then back to your teary eyed expression.

“Did we…?”

Words failing you, you nod, giggling in astonishment. Bucky’s face breaks into the biggest, handsomest, most gut-wrenching smile. His happiness is palpable and you’re suddenly so overcome with emotion. Your hands are gripping his face and angling it to align your lips to his before you register what you’re doing. He freezes and you hurriedly pull away, taking a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know why—”

“Shut up,” he cuts you off, closing the gap between you in a single stride.

He kisses you like his life depends on it, pressing your bodies as close as possible, his hands cupping your cheeks. You clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let go. He steals the breath straight from your lungs when he swipes at the seam of your lips with his tongue, moaning happily when you allow him access. A feeble whine from you after he flicks his tongue against yours makes him break the kiss.

“I have a confession,” he breathes into the miniscule space between your mouths.

“What?” you question distractedly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze shoots up to his, astounded. He brushes stray hairs off your forehead, runs his thumbs softly under your eyes.

“I’ve been selfish this whole time,” he reveals. “I couldn’t let you choose some random stranger to be your sperm donor, to father your child, couldn’t bear the thought of you carrying their baby, because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you. I wanted to be the one. And I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but I’m not sorry I did it.”

You’re hearing the words, yet your brain can’t seem to make sense of them. Surely you’re hearing him wrong. You can’t possibly have this too, right? You can't have Bucky and have his baby…

But he’s here, very real and solid beneath your hands, looking at you like you’re his entire world.

“Bucky…” You trail off, struggling to find the right words, at a complete loss. “I-I’ve loved you for so long now, I didn’t think you…” You shake your head, a giggle escaping you as you stare at him in wonder. “I couldn’t let myself hope.”

He grins, relieved, planting a few chaste kisses to your mouth. “I know this entire circumstance is totally backwards, but I want you, and I want this baby. I meant it when I said I’m not going anywhere.”

Fresh tears gather in the corners of your eyes. “Are you sure?” you still ask.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You have to kiss him then, uncaring of the tears that trickle down your face. The only thing you are focused on is the way his hands trail down your back, pausing to squeeze your ass, then grip underneath to lift you. Your legs wrap around his waist, arms locked around his neck, as he heads for your bed. He makes a point of throwing your extra pillows on the floor before settling between your thighs and kissing the hell out of you.

He pulls away only to undress you and himself, but he’s always back as quickly as possible, lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach. You impatiently tug at him until his lips are attached to yours again. The way he fucks his tongue into your mouth is nothing short of indecent and it sends a rush of pure want all the way to your core.

When you bury your fingers in his hair, gripping it tight, he grunts, biting your lip. You whimper and he grins as he pulls away.

“You make the most beautiful sounds,” he praises, his hands beginning to sweep down and up, tickling under your breasts.

His thumb and forefinger pinch one of your nipples and you gasp, back arching off your mattress. He repeats it on the other side, just to hear the same noise.

“Bucky, please,” you beg.

“Please what?” he prods. His hands drift further to the creases of your thighs, spreading them open. “What do you need?”

You whine, canting your hips up. “You, I need you, please.”

“You have me, sweetheart.” He tilts his head and you make a noise of frustration. “Use your words, darlin’.”

“Fuck me, please,” you burst out, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

Bucky smiles, slow and torturous. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Fuck this perfect pussy until you’re so full of my come that it drips down your beautiful thighs?”

“Oh god,” you mumble.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teases.

His fingers slide down your slit, gathering your slick then thrusts two fingers in at once. You groan brokenly, shifting your hips to try and get more friction, but he holds them down with his metal arm. Agonizingly slow, he begins fucking you with his fingers. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not when you know what his cock feels like. He takes his precious time fingering you and you’re sure you’re going to lose your mind before the day is done.

“You have no idea how incredible you felt around my cock,” he tells you in a ridiculously conversational tone. “I was trying to think of any excuse I could come up with to have you at least one more time.”

He shifts until his mouth is directly above where you’re dripping for him, and he waits until you make eye contact with him.

“But now I’m gonna spend the rest of my life making you come apart on my cock any chance I get.”

You hardly have any functioning brain cells at the moment, but even if you could form a coherent sentence you wouldn’t have been able to say it aloud, because then he’s descending and all you can feel is the wet warmth of his mouth.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, that much is apparent in the way he devours you, lips and tongue drawing out noises you’ve never heard yourself make, pressing his face so far into your pussy that he has to come up for air. His mouth and chin shine when you chance a look down, and when you clench on his fingers his smile goes smug at the corners.

He plants kisses along your hips, the insides of your thighs, around where his fingers are buried within you. He curls them, in search of the spot he found last time. He knows he found it when you try to close your thighs around his head and cry out. Now that he's found it, he angles to brush it on every thrust of his fingers and attaches his mouth back on your clit.

You chant his name, nearly sobbing as you approach your climax, until finally you fly over the edge. Your vision blurs and you’re not sure if you’re making any noise now, unable to hear past the blood rushing in your ears. Bucky helps you ride it out until you’re shuddering from sensitivity.

He kisses your thighs again, trailing them up your stomach and between the valley of your breasts.

“So good, did so well,” he mutters.

Weakly, you lift your hands to trace them down his toned stomach and around his back, down further so you can cop a feel of your own, smiling at his grunt of surprise.

“That was great and all,” you say, arching your back so your chest presses against his, “but I do believe I asked you to fuck me.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who said I was done with you?” It’s apparently a rhetorical question, as he continues before you get a chance to reply. “I’m gonna fuck you until you come, and then I’m gonna keep fucking you until you come again, and only then will I come so deep inside you there’ll be zero doubt I’ve put a baby there.”

Your legs are lifted and thrown over his shoulders in a blink, his cock pushing into your pussy, dragging out a high-pitched moan from you. There’s barely a pause and then he’s fucking you, just like you asked. The pace is brutal right from the start, a steady rhythm that has you mewling and writhing in pleasure. Bucky is watching his cock as he thrusts in and out of you, his mouth hanging open slightly as he pants. He hikes your hips up a little higher and you jolt through your startled moan. This angle is divine and the telltale signs of your second orgasm start tingling at the base of your spine.

“Can feel you,” Bucky says through panting breaths, “so close. C’mon, let me feel you.”

He pulls you down on his cock, grinding into you, his thumb reaching to rub tight circles over your clit. You sob through your release, shuddering against Bucky as you clench around him. He groans, still barely moving as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Come here.”

He helps you sit up, still seated on his cock, making you both hiss from your movement. Your arms automatically wrap around his shoulders and his around your waist. He kisses you so sweetly, a stark contradiction to the way he just fucked you. When you pull away, resting your foreheads together, he grins.

“Hi.”

You crack a smile. “Hi.”

“Ready for more?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You think you got it in you?” you tease as you play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

The light smack to your ass startles you and you let out a soft sound of surprise, hands tugging his hair harshly. Bucky’s eyes light up.

“Interesting,” he muses.

Another slap, a little harder than the first, and you’re whimpering, your walls clenching around his still hard cock.

“I’ll play with that later,” he promises, voice breathy.

You bury your face in his neck and start shifting your hips. He takes the hint, gathering you as close as he can and thrusts up into you. He can’t pull out as far this way, but the snap of his hips more than makes up for it. You mouth at his collarbone messily, kissing and licking your way up to his jaw, biting marks wherever you see fit. You make it up to his mouth and he kisses you, wet and filthy. You suck on his tongue and a ragged moan claws its way out of his throat. The need for air eventually has you pulling away.

“It’s a good thing you love me back,” you whisper in his ear. “Nobody else could ever compare to you.”

He growls, fisting your hair and yanking your head back to look him in the eye.

“Nobody will ever compare,” he corrects.

You moan. “Yes,” you agree, whining, “No one else could’ve given me a baby.”

Bucky thrusts harder and faster at your words. You’re picking up on a few hints and you can’t say it’s not doing it for you either.

“Filled me up so good, fucked me so well. Gonna be round with your baby soon.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he keens, hurrying to lay you flat on your back so he can fuck into you easier.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, your cries of pleasure mixing in with Bucky’s grunts and curses. His grip on you tightens almost painfully as he chases both your and his orgasm. You’re sure to have bruises tomorrow and you already know you'll be poking at them to remember this moment.

“C’mon, baby, wanna feel you too,” you beg.

His thumb finds your swollen clit once more. It’s beyond sensitive now, feels like a shockwave coursing through you, and without any warning, you come. You spasm around Bucky and he swears under his breath, thrusts going sloppy. With a final groan, he comes inside you, his hips moving seemingly on their own as he draws out both your pleasures. Slowly, he comes to a stop, but he leaves his cock buried in you like he did last time.

You know you’re gonna feel too empty when he does pull out, so you don’t mind sitting like this for a while. Bucky softly runs his hands across every inch of your skin he can touch and you bask in the affection. You card your fingers through his sweaty hair, smiling when he hums happily. It takes only a minute for you to notice the way his hands migrate to your stomach, and when you do you kiss his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go again later,” you suggest faintly.

Bucky grins. “We can do it a hundred more times if you want.”

“Guess I better enjoy it while I can.”

His smile goes soft at the edges.

It’s not lost on you how incredibly crazy all of this is. There will undoubtedly be a conversation, a much needed one that isn’t going to be simple or easy, but it’s necessary.

For now, though, you bask in Bucky’s warmth and loving embrace.

***

Keys jingle as they unlock the door and you perk up where you’re sprawled on the couch. Bucky enters, arms laden with bags from the convenience store.

“They didn’t have the banana ice cream you asked for,” he announces, continuing before your pout fully forms, “but they did have the double chocolate brownie kind you love so much, so I got that, as well as the sour gummy worms, beef jerky, and fried pickles from the deli on your list of demands.”

“What about—”

“And your strawberry Fanta,” he adds with a fond, slightly exasperated smile.

You’re unable to stop your expression from going soft and dreamy.

Ever since you and Bucky figured out where to go with your relationship, he’s been even more attentive and accommodating (and that’s saying something).

You expressed your worry about the possibility of something going wrong, that one or both of you would get bored and leave, or there’d be a big fight that neither of you could forgive. He was quick to reassure you of his commitment, told you there was no way he would ever get bored of you, and that as long as you both promise to talk things out in a calm, mature way, then you’d be alright.

It all sounded so easy when it was put like that. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized he was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you to already give up before you’d even started. So you’d taken a deep breath and leaped.

Now, you’re five and a half months in, your belly steadily growing and making everyday life increasingly uncomfortable. The changes to your body were physically and emotionally draining, to say the least. Moreso the emotional side. You’d hoped you wouldn’t be one of those pregnant women with strange cravings, and for the most part they were pretty tame, but you do like to dip your sour gummy worms in banana ice cream. Bucky didn’t attempt to hide his disgust over that.

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask on a pleased sigh.

He places your small cornucopia of goods on the coffee table. You sit up, huffing for breath during the struggle. You go to reach for the ice cream first, but Bucky catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles as he kneels in front of you.

“You were yourself. Smart, kind, selfless, unbelievably sexy.” You snort at that, but he’s undeterred. “And you’re giving me the best gift I could ever dream of. A family.”

Instantly, you’re crying. He’s grown accustomed to the mood swings by now, taking it in stride as he wipes away the tears with gentle hands.

“Stop being so disgusting,” you blubber through your hiccuping cries. “You’re such an asshole.”

Bucky laughs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You sniffle, kissing him. “Love you,” you grumble.

He leans down and plants the softest of kisses to your belly. “And I love you, little lady.”

The idea of you having a child one day always seemed foreign and unlikely, but life has a way of turning out exactly how it’s supposed to… And you wouldn’t change a thing.

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.2) NSFW

W/C: 3.2k #NSFW, THEY FUCKIN', bottom!reader, top!sukuna, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, sukuna ignores feelings through the force of sheer willpower, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, dubcon elements, blood as lube (SORRY), Sukuna unhinged horknee, ABO elements

A/N: I wanted to make this include more parts, but I am so flabbergasted and in awe of the response to this fic that I feel the need to feed y'all feral creatures LMAO. JKJK but 👀 Thank you for all the feedback and support! It really gives me the motivation to continue writing and to interact with the JJK community. I'm having a lot of fun!

tags: @kamote-kuneho @kamote-kuneho @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

“What the fuck is this?” Sukuna drawled, an intense fury simmering through his being. His gaze couldn't tear free from you, not even to size up the blindfolded weirdo watching him intently. 

He shattered the coffin, freeing you from the makeshift cursed bath some freak had forced you into. He smoothed damp hair from your sickly face and searched for sparks of life somewhere in the cold stillness that'd overtaken you. And there was something. He found it, a little glimmer of vitality in the smallest, shakiest inhale. 

“Good,” he praised, brushing your hair back more and more to get a better look at your face. You looked like the frail little thing he saved all those decades ago.

“You know,” Gojo interrupted, but Sukuna paid him no mind, “If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually cared about that kitsune.” 

“Then you don't know what this is,” Sukuna decided blandly. “Figures.” Kenjaku kept him off the record, huh? Guess that's a bonus.

“Oh? Do you wanna enlighten me before Yuuji comes back?” Gojo smiled, as if he really expected Sukuna to play nice and be honest with him. “Come on, come on, it's your chance to be vulnerable~” 

“Tch. Pretty damn sure the fox'll be the one to tell you.” His hand smoothed over your stomach and rubbed slow, gentle circles against your skin as reverse technique sought to bring you all back to him. “He yaps about as much as your insufferable ass does. Granted, he talks a lot nicer.” 

“Wow, rude.” Gojo sighed and clapped twice as if clapping on a light. “Okay! I've had enough bullying. Yuuji–” 

“Brat, don't you fucking dare–” 

Yuuji inhaled sharply. He blinked owlishly at your calmed expression, your eyes now closed and breathing now steadied thanks to Sukuna's aid. 

Aid. That wasn't something the king did. 

“Sensei,” Yuuji managed, voice quivering under the weight of memories’ emotion. “Can you fix this?”

Somehow, you were stuck in the throes of flirtation with the malevolent king of curses. 

“It may be courtship,” Uraume guessed, soft smile brightening their cold exterior. 

(They'd been smiling more recently, actually, ever since you completed that overcoat and presented it to them. Nary a day went by when they did not don the sentimental garb.)

But you weren't so sure; the event of courtship was serious business across all lucid creatures. Animals and creatures of primal existence sought out partners with favorable genes and strong constitution, whereas humans and the like yearned for merit or love in their coupling. You didn't quite grasp the way humans thought. Not yet. 

Well, save for flirting. You decided it was a sort of pre-courtship where nothing became serious and nothing was on the line, but frivolous touches and haughty words of praise ran rampant when those concerned crossed paths. 

Much like today.

(Much like the days before and after.)

You walked along the stone-paved path most mornings, lost in thoughts and mumbling to yourself bits and pieces of poems. Most were unfinished, but in their own time, verses would find one another and complete the incomplete. 

A groggy yawn hummed from the palace entrance. And moments later, Ryoumen Sukuna fell into step with you, grumbling and mumbling complaints about the nippy Spring morning while he tucked his arms away into his sleeves. 

He followed you, idly looking around the expansive space you'd helped curate and maintain when you weren't busying yourself with the girls or decorating clothing. The gardens weren't a mess before, not at all, but now they had a certain taste–trees and flowers were planted with specificity, stones were moved, paths reworked. You took the outside over completely. The king didn't mind. 

“Sukuna-sama,” you said, voice melting in kind with the morning frost. “I'll need to leave for a short while.” 

Sukuna quirked a brow and looked at you. You gazed upon the large, thick koi flashing their beautiful scales and ornate patterns of orange and white as they swam and followed you. Tch. How come even the fish were drawn to you? 

“And how do you think you'll accomplish that?” Sukuna tossed a rock into the koi pond, making the fish scatter. “Getting away from me isn't something you can do.”

You huffed and looked at him. “I understand. I simply seek your permission.” 

“Denied.”

“Ah.” You deadpanned. “Why?”

“You're mine; I decide where you go, how you breathe, if you eat. Or are you forgetting that?” 

You sighed and let your ears droop sadly with your tails. “Surely you jest.” 

“Are you laughing?”

You whined like a sad, sad street pup before cozying up to him, slipping your hands up his stomach and chest like you were supposed to. “Please?” 

“No.” 

You chittered and pressed your face against him, but didn't protest and complain much more. 

Sukuna’s thoughts whirled. The show was amusing, sure, but you didn't do anything without reason, especially when it had to do with breaking character and acting out like this out of–

Oh? 

Sukuna leaned down and sniffed you, searching for the intriguing coil of flowery citrus he nearly missed on the warming breeze. It was so, so faint, but decadent and alluring in a way that made the master of toxins cautious–most poisons tasted sweet, after all. 

You pulled your head back, shrinking down the slightest bit with your ears flattened against your skull. Your eyes, wide as a full moon, stared up at him, expectant. The touch of your hands on him never left, though.

“Brassavola nadosa.” Sukuna tilted his head. “You smell like it.” 

You blinked curiously, relaxing. “Is that so?” 

We don't have that orchid in the garden. Sukuna hummed and lifted a lock of your hair, catching another weak waft of the flower's faint scent. 

It's coming from him, then. Hm. 

“Tell me again why you want to leave the palace?” Sukuna asked on a hunch.

And that hunch doubled down when you fidgeted with the cloth of his haori and looked aside. 

“I wish to bear children," you admitted, shy and quiet. "To try, at the very least. Perhaps find a mate, too.” 

Children. You wanted children. After everything those sorcerers put you through for who knows how many years, you still wanted to mother a runt of your own. And you were willing to run off into the wild to, what, let some random man knock you up? Fill you with seed of unknown origin, unknown value, unknown potential?

Sukuna's ego flared. He leaned down to you, tilting your chin up to make you look him in the eyes regardless how small you felt in that moment. He deserved to witness you. You deserved to witness him. 

“You're not leaving,” he breathed, and he swore he could hear your heart break. “If you want a brat, you'll get a brat–only if you stay here 'n give up on those shitty thoughts of finding a sire out there.”

Your eyes scanned his face, tracing over serious lines and honest creases. Clearly, you searched for an answer–

“How?” 

–one that Sukuna didn’t have. Or maybe he did. Perhaps he just couldn't find the words for it. 

He scoffed and ruffled up your hair, unable to answer you. “You're not leaving. Not unless I say so.” 

The first time he let you go, he left scars. 

He found you in your chambers come early evening. Your tails swished and flicked as you sat amidst a nest of his robes and the missing linens from his chambers while you futzed over the embroidery of another haori, this time adorning the plain thing with the darkest scarlet one could find. Sukuna could already guess why. 

Your being burns as wildfires do. Lively. Emphatically. Devouring more and more so long as the earth lets you. Yet where you do not lay ruin, you grant warmth and light in a divine way. Wildfires are not such horrible things if one stays a respectable ways away. 

Your poetic nonsense irritated him to no end, but he fell enamored all the same; you spoke to honor him with every utterance of his name. You didn't try to kiss his feet nor did you bask him in compliments–you only spoke into existence that which hummed through your mind, unprovoked. It just so happened to be everything Sukuna liked to hear. 

So when he found you secluded away, beckoning so sweetly with intoxicating scents of citrus and gardenia, what choice did he have but to lay claim, to give you the brat you so sorely yearned for?  

You sensed him. Your gaze flicked to him, stoic and unmoved as ever, as the energy in the room built into suffocating silence, something like tectonic plates caught in deadlock, holding their disastrous energy, waiting for the right moment to devastate the world with a single, cataclysmic shift.

And of course, it was the impatient predator that moved first, setting a catastrophe into motion. 

The hours blurred together. 

Every minute of the chase was thrilling, invigorating, surprising–you were filled with tricks and traps, never slowing down for a second to think or doubt as the beast of a sorcerer pursued you through his palace, through the city below, and now into the looming forest in the mountains. 

Admittedly, he'd gotten carried away. He lost himself in the rush of it all, the adrenaline and pure, destructive desire pushed his self-control into unraveling just the slightest bit; honest attacks tore through space and time, hoping to maim and cripple you if they were to hit. And, honestly, the way you avoided his attempts to strike you down enthralled him as much as it enraged him–he was seconds away from unleashing his domain until a less-than-satisfying ripple of cursed energy tore across your thigh and put you down.

It was then, walking up to you, to his prey, that Sukuna remembered you weren't a sorcerer. Most would be able to stand and walk it off, maybe even heal with reverse technique, but you could only grasp at your weeping wound and grimace. Because you were not a sorcerer, you were a kitsune: a trickster, a creature full of mischief and void of cursed energy. 

Yokai. Not a human. Not a curse. Not like the rest of the boring souls wandering his earth. 

Sukuna pinned you the second you tried to make a break for it. Fangs and claws gnashed and tore into him while his hands strained to keep you down and rip those damn clothes free from your burning skin. 

Mating's never a pretty thing when it comes to nature. Humans like you made it something more.

Sukuna clasped a hand over your mouth and forced his weight onto you, ripping reedy yowls from your core as you twisted and turned, primal mind urging you to run, run, run, don't make this easy, make him prove his worth–

Rip.

Ribbons of what were once your robes fluttered to the ground, useless and unsalvageable. They were plain black, so unlike what you usually wore. You wouldn't miss them. 

“Make this as difficult as you want, pet,” Sukuna whispered as he loomed over you. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat when you stilled.  

“You know how this ends.” 

His pants were pulled down while another hand wiped slippery blood against your pliant entrance–and that was the only warning you got before he pushed into you. 

Where you should have screamed, you instead sighed. Your back arched off the ground like a work of art. Two hands gave up on holding you down in favour of gripping your waist and hips, pulling you closer to him, forcing you flush against his body. 

He noticed it then: a litany of old scars and discoloured marks shining against your skin. Marks left by those who did not deserve to taste such a delicacy. 

Unsightly.

Blood painted the grass. Cleaves and slashes ate away at those tainted scars, painting over the ugliness left hidden for too long–now, his marks would decorate you. Now, those hidden scars would mean something. They’d mean everything. 

Yet Sukuna's selfish maiming wasn't fitting the bill, and your antsy-ness was proof of it. You tried for the last time to pull from him, but his grip tightened around your throat. You gazed at him, then, eyes so wide and hungry, eager to fight or fuck–whichever came first. 

He braced over you and nearly winced as he dragged out of your suffocating heat. A sharp snap back inside loosened you, the glide of blood and slick aiding him. 

“I'll take you the way you need it,” he drawled as he built the pace quickly, already feeling his own obsession and excitement reverberating through his body, filling every fibre of muscle with electricity.

“Then,” he growled, leaning closer to your face. “I'll fuck you the way you want it.”

“More,” you sighed, digging your nails into the pillow you had your face buried in while the beast fucked you from behind. Sukuna groaned in compliance and lanced into your guts deeper, harder, faster than before–you were the only one that could handle the brutal way he let loose, and he was more than willing to indulge in that privilege. 

The hands all over you rose to the occasion, too; one had your tails fisted in his ruthless grasp, rudely holding you still and pulling you back against his hips; another rested on the curve of your ass, only moving to give a sharp slap or to knead your soft, perfect skin; the last two held your hips in a crushing force, his calloused fingers digging into your plush sides and sharp hip bones like you might disappear at any second. 

A sharp, sweet whine signaled the beginning of the end, as did the restless fidgeting and shifting in the king's grasp. Seeing you, a poised, powerful, mischievous being, come undone beneath him came to be one of Sukuna’s favourite sights, especially knowing it could only be because of him--only him. 

He leaned over you, his heavy chest pressing into your back as one hand released your waist in favour of fisting in your hair and tugging your head back and out of the futon you so desperately clung to. 

“Ah-ah,” he scolded breathily. “No hiding.” It was a familiar sentiment, one he had no problem reminding you of now and again. You had a horrible habit of trying to vanish when overwhelmed, after all. 

“Terrible beast,” you snapped back, scoffing indignantly when the deep bassy laugh of the man rolled through your body. “Horrible.” 

“You love it,” Sukuna growled back, grinning through every word. 

Something about it clearly struck a chord with you, judging by how fast you choked on your voice and came undone, legs trembling and body tightening around the too-big intrusion. The king groaned and bit at your neck, licking whatever blood beaded at the surface in between rushed, hushed words of praise for you and your efforts–most, if they heard the things he said, would call it out of character for the beast. Most didn't get to see beyond his raw power and crippling cruelty, however. 

Sukuna grunted and spilled inside you, pulling you back by your hair, hips and tail to ensure he forced every bit of his offerings deep into your core. Your body rocked and twitched against his, accepting all he had to offer you at the end of yet another coupling, before he let go of your locks and let you collapse face-first into the futon. 

He pulled out slowly, watching as every inch slipped from your abused hole before popping free and uncorking a dribble of whiteness from inside. He tutted and scooped it up with two fingers before stuffing it back in. 

“Oi, oi, are you even trying to keep it in?” He teased, smirking as you huffed. 

“You've exhausted me. I have no energy to attempt the impossible,” you lamented, nuzzling your nose further into the soft sheets smelling of cedar and fresh blooms–something so uniquely Sukuna. 

Your king sighed and gave your ass a firm few pats. “Guess I'll have to spoil you even more.” He settled onto his back and easily pulled you onto him, yanking you up to straddle his waist right where that second mouth laid open and eager to taste you. 

“This is uncouth,” you sighed. But you rocked back against the thick, heavy tongue pressing into your pliant heat, licking deep into you with a mind and hunger of its own. 

“Seems couth enough for you,” he commented, watching you ride his centre with rapt attention. “Little harlot's getting off on this, hey? Such a needy little brat.” 

His hands smoothed up and down your legs and sides as you shamelessly chased a second high. Your hands clasped over his as he took you into his hand and stroked you back to ample stiffness, the soreness of too many rounds of fucking making you far too sensitive to touch. 

“S-Sukuna-sama,” you stammered. “I can't–”

Sukuna's head tilted with a pleased smirk. “Ho? I thought you wanted to bear children? Are my offerings not enough for you?” 

You scrunched your face up into something of a prissy glare, but the shine clinging to your lashes and the shuddering of your body against his betrayed your crumbling demeanor. Of course, he was impressed with how his fox was fairing considering everything he put you through. 

He maneuvered you onto your back, grinning as you growled and weakly struggled against him. You looked perfect–stomach swollen, hair fanned out behind you, eyes teary but unable to tear away from the creature that’d tormented you for hours upon hours with no desire to give you a break. 

“Greedy god,” Sukuna lamented. One hand came to rest on your bruised neck again, fitting around so perfectly. “Nothing’s ever fucking good enough for you.” 

“You are.” 

That gave Sukuna pause. He stared down at you, all eyes looking over you with rapt attention as he tried to think. Tried to understand. Tried to parse those words and uncover what exactly you tried to convey. 

But it didn't click. 

“Tch. You're lucky I'm a generous god,” he scolded, releasing you from your torment in favour of collapsing down beside you for some much-needed rest. Not only did your beautiful body wear him out (not that he'd admit it), but your whimsical words wore his sanity thin. The worst part was you didn't even intend to damage him so. 

“I am truly honoured to merely be in your presence,” Your voice, light and dreamy as petals fluttering, laughed, and Sukuna's soul did something odd. 

He stared at the ceiling as you shuffled beside him, quickly returning to his side, donned in one of his haori and determined to make a comfortable nest of blankets and clothes around you both for the rest of the night–ah, morning? Huh. What an ordeal. 

You curled up next to him, shoving your back firmly against his side the way you often did when resting as a fox, and Sukuna huffed. 

“Turn to me,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He, too, turned to face you to envelope your lithe form with invincible arms and divine protection. Your soft purrs rolled through him, settling his wild spirit into a lazy tempo of an early morning stroll through a garden filled with one sort of white orchid: 

Brassavola nadosa. “Lady of the Night.” Your calling card. Your divine essence.

"Brassavola nodosa (Lady of the Night) is a medium-sized epiphytic or lithophytic orchid species boasting extremely fragrant flowers throughout the year. The blossoms, 4 in. across (10 cm), emit a citrus fragrance at night. Each flower features long, slender, pale green or creamy-white sepals and petals and a large, heart-shaped lip sometimes adorned with purple or dark red spotting." - gardenia.net

[mxtantrights]

Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))

Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!

Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol

Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷

Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.

He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.

They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.

"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.

You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."

"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.

Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.

"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.

"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.

Hell. This has to stop.

"Enough." you speak.

They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.

"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.

Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.

"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.

You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.

When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.

"Baby?" you ask him.

Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.

"I'm sorry." He says.

"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.

Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"

"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"

Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."

You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.

"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I swear it." you answer.

a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!

[maxtermind]

HEYYY!!! I’ve been looking at smut prompts all day and my brain is packed w fic ideas. May i request a mv1 fic with prompts “no underwear?”, “did you wear this just for me?” and “dont worry about the damn clothes, i’ll just buy you new ones” with spanish!reader and kind of like friends w tension vibes???

i want you all to myself

★ : feat :: max verstappen x reader ★ : genre :: mature ★ : word count :: 800 ★ : a/n :: this is not a tease, i genuinely don't think i can write good smut. but tension and yearning? hell yeah! not specifically spanish!reader because i wasn't sure what you wanted me to add for that.

The air crackled with tension as you stood face to face with Max, his gaze intense, almost palpable against your skin. Your heart raced with anticipation, every nerve on edge, as you waited for him to speak.

Max broke the silence, his voice teasing yet laced with an unmistakable desire that sent shivers down your spine. ”No underwear?” he hissed, his tone suggestive, his eyes lingering on you with a mix of amusement and something deeper.

”Oh.” You taunted, reveling in the way he struggled to maintain his composure. A coy smile playing on your lips as you watched his face flush and his hands clench tightly. ”Don't hold back on my account.”

You forced a casual smile, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

His breath caught in his throat as he struggled to find words, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Did you wear this just for me, darling?” Max's voice wavered slightly, betraying the intensity of his longing as he shamelessly eyed you.

Your lips curved into a smirk as you closed the distance, his eyes never leaving yours. ”Maybe I did,” you admitted, keeping your voice low, delighted to see the effect that had on Max.

Max groaned before reaching forward for the fabric of your dress, his fingers tightening around it as he pulled you closer. He looked at you as if he was mad as to why you were still not losing your sanity like he was.

Not knowing that the only reason you had pulled this stunt was because your patience had run dry.

The tension between you was palpable, a silent dance of desire and uncertainty as you stood locked in a silent exchange, each daring the other to make a move. That was before he aimlessly pushed forward and the sound of your poor dress echoed in the silence.

You gasped and tried to pry away but Max instead pulled you closer, resting his forehead on yours. His skin flushed as he sighed to stay calm and get himself together.

”Don't worry about the damn clothes,” Max grunted, his voice sending a rush of heat through your veins. Frustratingly pulling the torn material down your body in a frantic manner. ”I'll just buy you new ones.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a surge of insecurity washing over you, making you hold his hands under yours, not letting him see you yet. ”You'll buy me new ones, huh?”

Before you could carry on, your lips met in a heated kiss, so hard that the back of your neck, from where he grabbed you, pulsed. However, it had such a good effect making your legs shudder as ou sighed against his mouth.

Max was panting as he hurriedly tried to swallow all of your breaths and it made so much sense. As your lips moved together, you realized how much sense you guys made, how well you fit together.

Even as you surrendered to the passion, a nagging fear lingered in the back of your mind. It felt so insatiably good but you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you were to just ruin all this for a sultry desperate explosion. When it was painfully obvious that you ached for more

”I don't wanna do this just for one night,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling with uncertainty. ”I want us to stay...” ���Friends,’ would’ve been a lie so for the lack of a better term, you refrained from putting any labels.

Max pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a depth that took your breath away. ”I'm not going anywhere,” he assured you, his voice soft but firm. ”I wish I could wait, but baby, I- I want more, right now. I want you.”

Relief flooded through you at his words, comically short lived, because not even a second later, it got mingled with the desire that burned hot and fierce within you. ”I want you too,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper as you melted into his embrace. ”Really badly.”

Max pulled you in for another kiss and you almost lost it on the spot when he smirked against your mouth.

”You’re gonna ruin everyone else for me, huh?” He laughed in disbelief and if you weren’t as overwhelmed as you were, you might have scoffed but instead you squeezed his body under your palms.

Max’s eyes dilating as soon as you said your next words as you pushed the flimsy material off your body.

”You already have.”

( masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[urfriendlywriter]

'Exes to Lovers' prompts aaaah :

(feel free to use | also YALL GOTTA WRITE AND TAG ME. 8, 15, 19???? 20 and 25TH AHHHHH.)

glancing when the other isn't looking

not being able to hold their eye.

walking into them after years or months and realising, nothing has changed.

"wanna.. meet up for uhm some coffee later this week?"

realising how much you admire each other

getting too close to one another and fumbling away.

being pushed onto them in a crowd. and they're as warm as they were. AHHH

a brush of their fingers over yours. that small glance.

them shielding you from the crowd in an elevator (kdrama vibes aaah)

doing something you both used to do together. (like dancing, karaoke, baking, movie nights, getting coffee together etc)

laughing comes so easily with them. them knowing how to make u feel at ease >>>>

wondering if another step is taken it'll end up the way it was--broken.

"I've.. always missed you."

being so close to kissing. but saying, "I'm sorry." while still leaning in. "im so so sorry, i can't do this-" and then leaving.

"am i reading this wrong? if I'm.. push me away." WHILE BEING SO CLOSE, NOSES TOUCHING, eyes all over your LIPS AND SHI. AHHH.

"i don't want to lose you again, [name]. it hurt too much the first time and i was a coward for letting you go like that."

holding hands. trying to let go, but they gently squeeze it tighter.

falling back in love with how it feels to be around them first before u fall in ♡ w them.

"how can i ask you to stay tonight?" as a whisper, as a silent plead, or as a clingy tug.

"don't leave me alone." "i won't, love. not this time. never again."

the yearning gazes, lying near each other. just looking into each other's eyes.

"I've missed," they say pulling you closer, "everything about you."

"i didn't know how i feel yet. for you. for.. this."

^ "but..?" "but I'd like to listen to my heart. that's asking me to stay..."

kissing while crying?? just. gasping for more, fitting right between their arms and loving it???? ahhhh :'((

[theoddest1]

Okay so this new episode that came out (Episode 4) was poorly handled.

TW /// SA

- No warning before the show starts...why? And even if there is no way for Viv to add one, for some stupid ass reason, why didn't she announce to the fandom properly "Hey, this will have very deep topics and imagery that may not be suitable for all audiences."? Why have arguments on threads and fail to do this very easy thing. At least if the episode came out, people would get a heads up, and the word would spread faster PLUS people would see that you at least TRIED

- The episode opens up with a scene of CNC porno played for laughs in an episode that tackles SA. Complete tonal whiplash. Why did it have to open up with Angel showing everyone a porno? It serves no purpose other than to get a cheap laugh (that never came) out of me or anyone else who watches and because of the topic of the episode revolved around it. I'msure that if the episode WASN'T ABOUT SA, that joke would not have been there....but it is. There was legit no good reason to start this fiasco off with such a tone deaf opening.

- Charlie is actually fucking useless and a burden in this episode, serving no other purpose other than being the gateway to further the issues that befall Angel when "trying" to help. This all screams forced. Worse of all, Charlie does nothing to actually HELP Angel out of this, even though he has a clear black eye thanks to it all and literal mirrors breaking as a result of the abuse. We never see an actual development between the two thanks to her foolishness and garbage writing, and it's resolved easily as if this is some early Disney cartoon season that's on a strict deadline. Regardless of whether she apologized or not, she essentially caused the issue and did NOTHING to actually clean her mess. The goddamn B A R T E N D E R had to be used to salvage the pieces. So far, Charlie, as a character, is utterly pathetic and has been a burden to the cast twice so far. Vaggie, who tried to prove herself (moreso Vaggie's fault for going the extra mile for no reason but an obstacle nonetheless), also had an issue that involved Charlie's utter lack of a backbone. Hey, what was it that Charlie said in the pilot that her dad taught her and one of the only thingsshe learned from him? "You don't take shit from other demons"

- Only one scene from the abuse shown was handled well, and it was when Charlie visited, screwed everything up, and Val asked Angel to come to his dressing room. Aside from that, the whole SA imagery is jarring. While this time, the fast pace of it all is not bad, the quick shift into it all with Angel switching from enjoying to hating, to smiling, to frowning, ALONG with the quick pace of it all with the PRIOR KNOWLEDGE SHOWN and the SONG PLAYING, I am getting mixed messages here. Imagery? Shows Angel getting assaulted multiple times with either a forced smile or for some reason ENJOYING sex with Val and the role play situations showcased, is he INTO his abuse? Lyrics? He seems to find arousal in Val controlling him. The song legit reads as follows

"Addicted to this feeling, I can't help but swallow"

This doesn't read like he is "forced" it reads like he is yearning the toxic relationship. Now if this was one of the main issues with the abusive relationship, where it was a codependency built on romanticising the abuser and Angel learning to break free from that horrible view of someone who never loved him and actively harms him, this lyric would make a lot of sense....but that's not what we are shown at all. From the jump, we are shown that Angel HATES being with Val, to the point of him straight up avoiding his texts and voice messages, they actually do an okay job (despite the shoddy voice work) on showcasing how manipulative Val is and his outright explosive temper through this scene in episode 2. We see that Angel does NOT wanna have association with Val, is tired of it all, and even got drunk to down his sorrows. Yet these lyrics present it all as though it's just a very rocky love life like those songs you hear on the radio with the singer lamenting about how awful their relationship was but still miss their toxic boo-boo. It just...doesn't read like an SA song and could mean anything regarding the type of abuse he is facing. It's kinda vague in hindsight. That's MY take on the lyrics, though.

- Husk's song is a trash fire. He sees Angel is down in the dumps and proceeds to talk shit about him pretty much relaying his sorrows, saying it's okay to feed into your vices, and downplaying the actual situation at hand. So let's get this straight.

Angel- A sexual abuse victim forced into sex slavery to appease all sorts of people's sexual desires whether he likes it or not, including pleasuring his pimp who physically abuses him often all cause he sold his soul

Husk- Gambled his life away and lost his title as overlord, serves under Alastor all cause he sold his soul.

How is this even...the same at all? Even if Husk is lacking some context, he SEES that Angel normalized drinking roofied drinks and works for Val SOMEONE HUSK SHOULD KNOW ABOUT AND WHAT HE DOES but nah, screw Angel. Even if he honest to God (irony) wanted to actually help, why tf would Husk think this was sound advice? Why does Husk just SUDDENLY care? No build up, no memorable dynamic, no nothing. Realistically, CHARLIE should be the one singing with Angel or maybe Vaggie because she heard the story from Charlie. Not Husk. He is self aware enough where he knows this "advice" wouldn't work but nah. Nothing about the song makes sense. Telling someone going through it that "you're a loser" pretty much a no one, an insignificant individual, when VAL has made it clear that Angel would be nothing without him...yeah no the only reason why this whole song "worked" was cause the writers wanted it to, so Angel is happy with being a loser for being a victim of SA and selling his soul to someone who abuses him in various ways consistently.

This episode is terrible

Jarring for any newcomers

Who have no idea who these characters are

[mrsfancyferrari]

Your Dream

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Pairing: Monkey D Luffy x Y/N

Content: You remembered the reason why you joined Luffy's crew.

A/n: I thought of this idea at 3AM. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing this! <3

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"So Y/N, what is your dream?" Luffy asked you as you both sat on the Sunny's head, the wind blowing through your hair and the sound of waves crashing in the distance.

"Dream?" you repeated, your mind drifting to a distant place.

"Yeah!" Luffy chuckled, "Like I want to be the King of the Pirates!"

You stared out at the vast ocean, searching for an answer to Luffy's question. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing came to mind. The truth was, you didn't have a dream yet, and that uncertainty weighed heavily on your heart.

Growing up with a drunk father and a wicked mother in a country where such circumstances were unfortunately common, dreams seemed like a luxury you couldn't afford.

You yearned for stability and a sense of belonging, which made finding your own dream all the more challenging.

You remembered your father saying to you, "Dreams are for people who aren't able to accept their fate, people who can't accept their destiny in this world."

Days after he had said that, the whole country was set ablaze, killing everyone except you. In the midst of the chaos and devastation, you found yourself standing alone, carrying the weight of your past and the uncertainty of your future.

You thought that you were fated to die with your family, your friends, and your country in order to fulfill your destiny.

That's until you saw a hand stretching towards you in the midst of the rubble and debris, and you thought it was the world telling you to rest. But as you looked closer, you realized that it was a stranger.

The stranger had a straw hat tilted to the side, casting a shadow over his eyes, and he wore a vibrant red vest that stood out against the backdrop of destruction. His grin was infectious, revealing a genuine warmth and a glimmer of mischief that awakened something within you.

"Hey! Are you okay? My name is Monkey D Luffy and I'm going to be the King of the Pirates. You wanna join my crew?" He asked as if he was oblivious to the destruction around him.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond.

But something in Luffy's unwavering determination and genuine belief in his dream sparked a flicker of hope within you. With a smile on your face, you nodded and took his hand, pulling yourself up off the ground.

As you joined Luffy's crew, you realized that your destiny was not to die with your family and country, but to embark on a thrilling adventure as a pirate.

Maybe your destiny was to be with him. . . .

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*''*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

"Y/N," Luffy's voice brought you back to reality as he tapped your shoulder gently. You turned to him, realizing that you had been lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"Yes Luffy?" you asked, mustering the realest smile you could make.

Luffy saw through your fake smile immediately, his eyes narrowing with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" you asked, attempting to deflect his concern.

Deep down, you knew that you couldn't hide your true emotions from Luffy for long.

Luffy replied, "You're crying, and that's not like you at all. What's going on? You can talk to me, you know."

You quickly touched your face and realized that you were actually crying. You tried to wipe away the tears, but they kept coming, betraying the emotions you had been trying so hard to hide. It was as if your tears had a mind of their own, refusing to be held back any longer.

"You know you don't have to keep it in anymore," Luffy muttered, pulling you into a side hug since you were sitting down.

The warmth of his embrace made it impossible to hold back any longer, and you buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely.

As you cried into Luffy's shoulder, you couldn't help but grab the back of his vest tightly for comfort, feeling a sense of relief as you let out all the pent-up emotions that had been weighing you down.

His presence was a soothing balm to your wounded soul, reminding you that you didn't have to face your struggles alone.

You are my dream, you thought but you would never dare to say it to him.

In that moment, as you cried into Luffy's shoulder, you realized that he had become more than just a friend to you. Your heart longed to express your feelings, but the fear of rejection held you back.

As the tears subsided and you found solace in Luffy's embrace, exhaustion finally caught up with you. You didn't even notice when you started to drift to sleep, your head resting on Luffy's shoulder, knowing deep down that you were safe and protected in his presence.

"Luffy!- Oh, I didn't know you were busy," a voice said behind us, but you didn't move.

Even though you were half asleep, you could still recognize Nami's voice from a mile away. Despite feeling vulnerable in that moment, you trusted Luffy to handle the situation and protect you, so you remained in his embrace, knowing that he would shield you from any harm.

"It's okay, what do you need," Luffy asked, turning his head round to glance at Nami. His voice was calm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the vulnerability you felt in that moment.

"We're approaching a new island,"

You felt his head turn toward you as he made a low, thoughtful humming sound, the vibrations of it soothing your tired mind.

"I don't see it,"

"The island is covered by an invisible barrier and. . . ." Nami started but stopped with hesitance, unsure of how to continue.

"What is it?" Luffy's tone changed to being serious once hearing Nami's hesitance, his brows furrowing as he prepared himself for the potential danger that lay ahead.

"The island," Nami repeated. "It's the same one that destroyed Y/N's country."

Luffy's grip on you tightened slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. "We won't let that happen again," he said firmly, his voice filled with determination. "We'll just face whatever danger awaits us and protect her." . . .

☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆☄. *. ⋆

Part 2? Comment if you want it. Please support by reblogging, liking and sharing!

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 | 𝐉𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝

【Synopsis】 : Now that he has you have his wife, he desperately craves to have a family.

『Word count』 : 1.4k

-> Genre: Fluff. Smut. MDNI 18+

Pairing: Husband!Jay x Wife!Reader

[Warnings] : Switch dynamics. The reader is in charge of this one, hehe. Subby-ish Jay. (He's whinier than anything else) breeding kink, unprotected sex (Don't do this unless you want kids) Dirty talk. Jays a bit of a brat. Making out. Jay breaks the readers' underwear (woops).

Note: This is my first time writing for Jay... kinda very nervous, ahh. I hope I did him well. I wanna write more chicago stuff in the future, so if this does well. You’ll be seeing more, hehe.

Jay is begging again. He wants children. He’s brought it up in the past and you’ve always brushed it off with a hearty no, saying you both weren’t ready for that type of commitment, let alone with your types of jobs... Not right now. But this time is different. He stopped mid-kiss to look you in the eye and asked the question.

“Can we have a baby?”

Your throat runs dry. You couldn’t care for a kid, not now when your lives have just only begun to settle down into the first day of your honeymoon, which started straight after your chaotic wedding. But yet you couldn’t help feeling a tingle brew in your lower gut. The desperation in his eyes made your thighs squeeze together. The choked whimper in his words filled your need to please. And how could you possibly say no to your newly wedded husband while staring directly into his beautiful loving eyes? They swim with lust…. you were at a loss.

“Hmm, my Love,” you whispered, facing your body fully to him, having discarded your phone onto the side dresser while you were deep in thought. It wasn’t a yes per say, but the way you smiled with a subtle nod made him move into action.

His green eyes brighten like he has just heard the best news in his entire life as he was on you within seconds, kissing you deeply and caressing your sides. You moan into the kiss, grabbing either side of his head to hold him in place. His touch sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your body. You have never thought of it because of your precautions but just thinking about him going in raw gets you wet. You shift a hand down between your legs and start to rub your clit with two fingers. But a hand quickly stops you.

Jay pulls away and looks at you. “Let me,” he begs.

He looks and sounds more desperate than you feel. This man must have been yearning for ages. And now he’s finally getting it. He’s just a sloppy mess. You push him back onto the bed, his eyes on you the entire time. You climb on top of him and sit on top of his crotch. You grind down a little, feeling him grow in his pants a little. His hands grab your waist quickly, but you have other ideas. If he’s been wanting this, he’ll have to earn it. You grab his wrists and he lets go with loose fingers. Pinning his hands above his head, you suddenly feel the thrill of being on top. Looking down on him and seeing the desperation upon his delicate features. His mouth is parted and he’s breathing heavily already. It’s truly a sight to see that turns you on.

“Now if you want this, you’re going to have to ask nicely,” you whisper in his ear.

A moan is pushed from his lips as you grind down again at his lack of response. “Please,” he begs. “Let me.”

Satisfied, you let go of his hands but tsk, “Keep them there,” You ordered with a fake tone of dominance, at this point you sounded more cheeky and light-hearted, but neither of you cared. He keeps his arms above him but his gaze is all over you. You can feel his neediness rubbing against your clothed core. Shuffling down, you begin to undo his belt and pants. You stop every time he moves and wait for him to fall silent again. After a solid five minutes of playing this little game of tug and pull, you shuffle his pants off his ankles. His cock is fully erect and leaking. With a grin across your face, you sit on his thighs, placing your soft fingers down his waist. He flinches slightly but keeps his mouth shut.

“So you want kids?” You chuckle.

“Honestly,” he admits, “I couldn’t care less about that right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You reach over to the bedside table and open it. “I’ll just wrap you up then.”

“No!” He shouts and grabs you away from the table. “No,” he says more softly.

You laugh and pat his cheek. “You’re sweet. But I do have to grab the lube.”

He smiles widely and toothy as you reach for the bedside table again, grabbing a small bottle of lube out. You slick up your hand and finally begin rubbing his dick. His hips buck up slightly and he suppresses a moan.

“Let it out, honey,” you whisper.

He exhales harshly and his arms move slightly above him. You stop and squeeze the base of his dick. He chokes on a moan but another escape and oh my, it sounds heavenly. Why haven’t you done this before? This is another side of your husband you haven’t seen. You move up on your knees and push your nightie up your thighs with the hand that was on his dick. You reach between your thighs and move your underwear to the side, not wasting any more time with taking them off. With the lube on your fingers and the wetness coming from you, two fingers slide in easily. The pleasure zips through you and makes you hunch over Jay. You finger yourself above his dick, breathing into his neck.

“Keep your arms up there now,” you moan. You meant it to come out as an order, but opening yourself up over him is doing something to you you never thought would.

“Please, I just want to touch you,” he pleads.

“We can stop if you want.” You plant a kiss on his lips. “Or we can keep going.”

He shakes his head frantically. “Please. I just want to fuck you,” he pants.

You kiss him again with more want and bring your free hand to comb through his hair. Then you reach down and grab the base of his cock to line it up. He moans into your mouth as you slide down halfway onto him. You pull away gasping. You want more.

“You can touch me,” you say but it comes more out as a whine.

His hands whip forward and grab your hip and ass cheek, giving it a firm squeeze. He’s a mess right now and you’re loving it. You bob lightly up and down on him, feeling him rub up against you, sending prickles of pleasure up your spine. He guides you down slowly with each thrust until you’ve swallowed him to the base. He lets you sit there, taking his full length in for a moment before you decide to move on your own accord. You shift your hips upwards with your hands planted on Jay’s stomach before moving downwards. You set a rhythm for yourself but soon enough he’s thrusting up into you. You’re gasping and moaning each time he drives you down on his cock. You get lost in the moment and pick up the pace to chase your own high. You fall on top of Jay and he wraps one of his arms around your waist while the other snakes down to grip your panties.

"I'm sorry." His words were quick and so was the sound of a snap of fabric. Did he literally just rip your underwear? "I'll buy you more." 

"You better." You choke out a moan as he throws the broken fabric somewhere in the room. He brings his knees up and begins thrusting up into you from another angle. It sends a thrill through you that has you moaning louder. You’re both a mess and all of the teasing and playing hard to get suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He pants in your ear. He holds onto you more tightly as he buries his face into your neck. With a few stuttering thrusts, you feel him release inside of you. And oh god just the hot sensation of being filled up sends you over the edge as well. You squeeze down tight around him and you can already feel some of his cum dripping down his cock, leaking out of your hole. After the high end, you slowly bring yourself up, his cock still inside you, letting his cum stay deep inside you. Collecting yourself, you glance to see Jay grinning up at you with a glowing smile. It brings a smile to your face as well even though you don’t know why he’s so ungodly happy.

“What?” You ask, stroking his chest with one hand.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Is all he says. That earned him a light slap on the shoulder.

[daenysthedreamersblog]

LOVE YOUR WRITING OMG, scariest yet most sexiest things I have ever read.

I have a request if you’re doing them.

Basically Coriolanus has liked this new girl for awhile at the academy and she came off to him as like innocent and shit. Until he walked into a supposedly empty classroom where a teacher was fucking her from behind. He films it as evidence and essentially blackmails the teacher whilst saving her from a possible sexual attack?

Only now he has that evidence, he can use it against her too.

totally don’t use this if you don’t wanna obv but I thought I’d try🤷‍♀️

idk if i understood the assignment bc i started writing and it took on a life of its own but i hope u still enjoy it 🥲

warnings: MDNI! smut, attempted sa, coercion, blackmail

He likes the way you twirl your hair around your finger.

He likes when you flip it over your shoulder and the smell hits him in the face, the way your neck is bared for him, how your pulse thumps under skin.

He likes holding the door open for you, how you smile up at him as you walk by, the blush on your cheeks, the small thanks you give him.

You're just so...cute, so modest and unexposed, that even the sight of your ankles peeping out makes him hard, the innocent color staining your face when he accidentally taps your shoulder to pretend he needs help finding something in the library.

He likes watching you, stalking you, whatever you wanted to call it he didn't care. He wanted you in some form, whatever you would give him he wanted it. You were a soft feathered dream, a fantasized version of every thing he had ever wanted in life.

That was just the light hearted yearning.

He knew you cunt would taste like sweet honey, as soft as a rose petal wrapping around his cock. He came too many times in his hand, multiple times a day imagining it, imagining you under him squirming and crying out for him. You were a virgin, you had to be, no whore would dress, act the way you did. There was simply no way, and Coriolanus would take you in, show you pleasure the made you cheeks burn with want, whimper out your desire for him...only him.

He just needed to get you alone somehow.

He stays after classes, pretending to be working in the library while he watches you do the same. After a while though, you leave disappearing deep in to the academy when you should have headed home. He waits a minute before following wherever you got off it, but the noise stops him.

"Please." His pants grow tight at the pathetic sound of your voice, begging. He crept closer, "I can't fail...my parents..."

Coriolanus sees you through the sliver of a door, sees you standing in front of your teacher clutching a paper, sees your scumbag of a teacher eyeing you in a way Coriolanus reserved for himself, the facade crumbling out from under his feet.

There was no way.

But then your teacher runs a hand over his mouth before leaning forward, "What are you willing to do for it?"

"Anything," You breath like the naive little girl you were and Coriolanus knows what he has to do.

He needs to have this, for himself of course, no that sounds wrong, to help you. Surely your teacher was coercing you into this and he needed to save you. His poor innocent girl being taken advantage of, no he won't have that. So he decided to film it.

"Take off your shirt."

You don't even act surprised as your fingers go to the buttons on your academy uniform slowly, shakily working your way down. Your teacher already has his dick out running slimy fingers down the minuscule thing while you shrug off your shirt.

"Bra too." You hesitate but reach behind and unclasp it letting it fall onto the floor, bare back muscles tense. "Now your pants."

"I..." You stammer out as he gets to his feet to come behind you.

He runs a finger down your skin, "You said you'd do anything to pass..." He slams you down onto the desk your surprised cry making Coriolanus's own cock twitch.

Coriolanus has enough, and he's done letting him touch you, so he barges in. "Get off of her." He knew he looked so gallant barging into the room to save you as your teacher stumbled back.

"It's not what it looks like." He stammered out, "She came onto me."

He wiggled the camera, "Seems I have proof otherwise."

Your teacher's eyes go wide, "Please."

"Leave her alone." He glared shrugging off his jacket and placing it over your bare shoulders feeling you shrink into his side, your daring prince. "And you will pass her...or else."

He gritted his teeth, "Fine." Then he's slinking out of the classroom slamming the door behind him.

"Thank you," Your soft voice says from beside him. "It's my own fault truly..."

Coriolanus grabs you by the shoulders to turn you to face him, "You could have come to me for help with school."

You blink up at him, eyes wet, "I didn't think-!"

"I know." He hands come around your face, "You didn't think." His thumb trails across you pouting bottom lip, eyes finally glancing down at your exposed body, your breast peaking out behind his borrowed jacket, and what once was hidden is on full display for him. You're there, right there under his palm, ripe for the taking, so he does sliding his hand down, slipping it into the jacket to splay his hand along your bare skin. "You've been a bad girl." He pushes the fabric back exposing you more cool air perking up your nipples, "Whoring yourself out to your teacher instead of coming to me, letting him look at you, touch you...you're so lucky I was there to save you."

You take a sharp breath as his thumb brushes the underside of your breast. "What are you going to do with the tape Coriolanus?"

"I could show the whole school, show your parents that they raised a little slut." His thumb passes over your nipple and you shudder, the movement pushing your body closer. "Or I could tuck it away somewhere safe where no one but me will see it." Your eyes quiver not looking away from his face as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. "Look at you, letting me do whatever I want to you..." Have you wanted him this whole time too? You must have if you weren't stopping him, must have thought about him just as much as the pink color stains your cheeks. He pushed the jacket off your shoulders letting it fall to the floor running a finger down your naked spin, arching your back, pushing your breast into his chest.

He dips down and kisses your lips feeling the lack of your return. "What do you want Coriolanus?" You mutter out as he kisses your jaw, your neck one hand kneading your breast, the other tightening on your waist. You knew what he wanted, why were you making him say it?

"Isn't it obvious?" He walks you back, pressing you into the desk hard cock digging into you.

He gazes down at you, at your parted lips, at the vacant angry stare glazing over your eyes. "Fine."

You bend at the knees to go to the ground in front of him unbuttoning his pants and pulling his cock out. You stroke a soft hand down the length of him swirling around the tip to gather precum before pumping you hand along his cock. Your lips press to the tip, you took a breath, and then open wide to suck him back. "Fuck." He groaned out at the softness of your mouth, the warmth of you. And because he can, he records this too. You take him deeper and deeper until he hits the back of your throat, tongue darting out to lick the underside of him, and he realizes you aren't as pure and innocent as he thought his hand gripping your face harder. "You like sucking my cock don't you." You don't answer just pull back to bob up and down his length, hand swirling around what can't fit. He groans hand coming under your chin feel spit spill out as you glide along his cock. "Such a whore for it. Was this your plan all along?"

Teeth graze him in answer, he laughs hips jutting out to shove himself deeper as you gag. You could believe your own ruse if you wanted, but he knew better. You wouldn't have taken him so willingly if you didn't want him, wouldn't suck his cock so good if you didn't want it.

Your tongue swirls around the head, sucking in your cheeks as you glide down him one last time before he's spilling down your throat. You stay there for a moment with his twitching cock in your mouth as you blink up at him. Then you pop off him climbing to your feet, "Coriolanus."

"Mhm," He watches the small trail of cum leaking out of the corner of your mouth.

"Are you going to get rid of the tape now?"

His hands go up, knuckle collecting the cum, before he shoves it back in your mouth. "No." He said tucking his dick back into his pants. "You'll leave me if I do." He takes your face in his hand caressing your tear streaked red face, "Come on I'll walk you home." You glare up at him as he smirks, "Never know what kind of creeps are out there."

[starboybutler]

don't count on it

summary: buck can't sleep. bucky helps him out.

word count: 2675

warnings: period typical homophobia and homophobic attitudes, handjobs, brief objectification of women, brief talks of war, guys being dudes

notes: i began writing this before i watched mota yesterday so forgive me if anything seems out of character. this came to me in a dream at three am and i've been thinking about it since. this is also inspired by @precious-little-scoundrel so thank you for your lovely blog marina. i hope everyone enjoys!

his entire body radiated with a dull ache deep in his joints. as soon as his back hit the bed, his eyes drooped as if he’d fall asleep right then and there. and yet, he laid there, staring at the dull gray ceiling.

he always did this. he yearned to sleep, but as soon as the time to lay down came, he couldn't fall into a sound slumber. too many thoughts racing in his head, too much aching in his body– too much noise all around him. the hum of the rickety air conditioning, the faint mutters and laughs of his bunkmates as they brushed their teeth and got dressed for bed, his own breathing reverberating in his ears. it all was so mundane, but too overwhelming.

he shut his eyes, hoping sleep would just come to him. he tried to ignore it all– the sounds, the thoughts…but nothing. he was still awake.

the bed dipped next to him, and he didn’t even have to open his eyes to see who it was.

“finally outta the shower?” buck asked, hands tucked behind his head as he waited for a response. “you take forever in there. you're like a woman.”

“yeah yeah,” bucky dismissed, shoving buck playfully as he set his belongings down. “and you didn’t shower long at all. dunno how ya got anything clean in that time.”

“i’m very clean.” gale huffed, cracking one eye open. “i just don’t like showering with other people. i like my alone time.”

“uh huh. you just wanna be able to rub one out in there.”

gale sat up and shoved him, laughing in surprise at his friend's brazen words. it was always like this. bucky, being brazen and outgoing, all while buck watched from the sidelines. he liked it that way. he always felt a weird joy when bucky would tell random stories of reckless things he did in the past, or when he insisted on singing after a few drinks at the bar. he’d always say that he was a prude when he resisted his drunken tugging of his arm, trying to urge him on stage with him. buck never took it personally though– mainly because bucky was right. compared to most of the men he’d been around he was prude. he didn’t gamble, drink– hell, he didn't even have one night stands. many of the guys got drunk and went home with the first broad they saw, but buck didn’t feel anything towards the women who would brazenly grip at his arms and called him a stud. sure, he’s made out with a few of them– and almost made a mess of his uniform– but he never took them back to base. he didn't want to lose his purity like that. sure, he’d done plenty of heavy petting and dry humping, but he’s never went all the way with a girl before. it just didn't happen.

he got teased about it, sure, but he stuck by his guns. he didn't see the big deal in rushing to stick your cock into some random woman and then brag about it the next day. it all seemed very shallow to him. he was always told that sex is special– between two people with a strong, loving bond. and he held that close to his heart. he actually was planning to save himself for marriage– but when you're a hormonal teen…its a little hard to fight those primal feelings.

“oh please, i haven't done that since i got here.” buck said earnestly, laying back down and stretching out. “honestly, i haven't done that in almost a year.”

bucky laughed. “no way. i always joked about you bein’ a prude, y’know, but this is a little far.” he cracked. “where ya too busy? or are you actually that green?”

“i’m not green,” buck grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “i jus’-- goddamn, i dunno. i wanna save myself, y’know. i try not to do it too often.”

“good god man, you didn't even go for it before you were here? you’re crazy.” egan snorted. “now you’re stuck ‘round all these guys.”

buck just shrugged, laying back down and sighing heavily. “oh well. what can ya do?”

it was quiet, for a moment. buck could feel that bucky was was there, but he was silent– like he was contemplating. buck opened one eye and gazed at him, confused at the way his lips were twitching.

“you…you really aren’t gonna…indulge in any ladies out here?” bucky said, softly, like he was ashamed of asking. “you’re gonna lose it, man. it’s only been a week and i already feel all pent up.”

buck felt his face heat up slightly at the implication that his friend was horny. he bit his lip, dragging his eyes away from his black-haired friend as he let those words soak in. “really?”

“yeah. i– it’s been a while for me too, actually. i didn't really think about how it’d only be us guys out here. shoulda got something before i came out here.”

despite buck’s stance on remaining celibate until his marriage, he strangely understood the other man. even though he hardly engaged in such things, he felt the tension in every room he walked in. everyone seemed taut, like a bowstring– waiting to snap. whenever they’d spar, workout, or shower, the air would be thick enough to cut with a knife. it was an unspoken thing– but everyone felt it. no one wanted to talk about it, because…well, what would that make them? they don't allow fairies in the force, that’s for sure. something so scandalous couldn't even be thought about, unless you wanted a good beat down by every other troop in sight.

“i dunno. i think the last time i did it left me satisfied for a while,” he lied, not wanting to admit that he had the same fire simmering, albeit dimly, in his belly. he never felt like this, so what the hell was his deal?

“bullshit,” bucky swore. “no way your fist leaves you satisfied for years to come. you need a woman, buck. one that’ll rock your world.”

“you know i’m savin’ myself.” buck hummed. “besides, hookin’ up with some random woman doesn't sound appealing.”

“you’re wrong, man.” bucky sighed, laying down next to buck and resting his head on his hands. “it’s magical. raw. primal. makes you feel like a real man.” he grunted, inhaling deeply. “hooked up with this one chick– god, she was gorgeous. eager to go down on me– and she gripped ‘round me so damn tight i thought she cut off my circulation. kept bouncin’ on me and talking about how big i was. goddamn.”

buck’s cheeks flushed at the words leaving his friends mouth. the way he spoke about the woman like she was a pastime or a hobby and not a person was surprising. he could see it, though, clear in his minds eye– a young lady, moaning and panting, bouncing eagerly on bucky’s thick cock, bucky panting and calling her a good girl–

he paused. why was he thinking about bucky so much? and why did it make his face flush even more?

“issat right,” buck mumbled, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach from his lewd imagination.

“uh huh. god– i dream about her all the damn time. what i’d give to be buried in her now.”

silence again. only this time, it felt more tense than the last. the vision that buck had– bucky’s cock, his breathless voice, his flushed face. it made him all hot, like no other girl had before. it scared him.

“you ever been with a girl? obviously not all the way– but at all?”

“of course i have.” buck said defensively. “i– i just…it was high school, maybe. real nice girl, real pretty. she came over to study, and we ended up making out. i was still kinda new to the whole….sex thing, so i told her no when she tried to go all the way. we did end up uh…. rubbin’ on each other though. felt nice.”

“and this was high school?” bucky asked. “and you haven’t been with a girl since?”

buck shook his head. bucky stared at him for a moment, something unreadable flashing in his eyes as he gazed at the blonde. “damn. no wonder you're so damn tense all the time.”

“i’m not tense.”

“you are. you’re always quiet– thinkin’. you never let loose. i bet if you got a handy you’d be as rowdy as the rest of us.”

“quit bein’ dirty.” buck tsked, smacking bucky’s chest lightly. “i don’t need a handy. i need some goddamn sleep.”

“i’m tellin’ ya man. you need to get laid.”

“i’ll smack ya if you say somethin’ pervy again.” buck promised, making bucky snicker softly.

it was quiet again. buck closed his eyes, but he felt as restless as earlier. moreso, even. he kept thinking about bucky’s last hookup, the way he described her, how tight she was. was she really tight? or was bucky just that big, like the girl said?

and there his mind went again. thinking about bucky. that wasn't normal. he needed to stop thinking about bucky and think about girls. like the girl he frotted with in his childhood bed- whatever her name was. the way she grabbed onto him, panted into his neck, shivering and shaking something awful as she came undone all over his slacks. he remembered being shocked at the gush, his cock still unbelievably hard down his thigh after two orgasms. he remembered how bad it hurt, being hard for so long. he wondered if being in a girl was better. he wondered if bucky’s cock stayed hard after he came inside that girl. no– stop. don’t think about the man right next to you. why did he keep–

“you’re breathin’ funny.” bucky observed.

“no i’m not.” buck argued, flustered at how his friend picked up on his heavier breathing. he prayed that he didn't look down and see his dick tenting in his sweats.

he must've. no. he did. his eyes trailed down the lean length of buck’s torso, landing on the large bulge under the fabric of his sweats.

“see what i mean?” bucky breathed, his voice lower in tone than normal. “you're so tense, buck,” he muttered, his hand moving from behind his head. “always so damn tense.”

buck swallowed hard as he felt bucky’s hand rest on his thigh, slowly inching upwards towards his aching cock. his breath stuttered, his face red-hot– but he didn't make a move to stop him. not at all.

bucky’s hand slid into his loose sweats, past the blonde curls, and gently grasped at his cock. buck inhaled sharply, his hand moving to grab bucky’s wrist in a moment of panic. bucky halted, looking up at buck tentatively.

oh, god.

“don't think,” bucky muttered, giving buck a soft squeeze. “jus’ lemme help, yeah? lemme get rid of that tension.”

buck let go slowly, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. bucky’s hand gave him a curious squeeze, making buck grunt and rock his hips up into his grasp. slowly, hesitantly, bucky started to move his hand up and down his throbbing shaft.

“oh, god,” buck swore, his face flushed dark red as he felt his stomach clenching with each milking tug of bucky’s hand. he felt himself, dripping with precum all over his friends hand like a girl. he hardly began touching him, and he was already….

“close,” buck warned, his voice breathy and embarrassed as he started to pant softly. “oh, jesus–”

“no,” bucky grunted, pulling his hand away abruptly, much to buck’s dismay. before the blonde could even complain, bucky was straddling him and staring holes into his pretty blue eyes. “wanna see you.”

buck swore his face was radiating light at this point, and bucky’s gaze wasn't helping one bit. it was so hot and intensely desirous that buck thought he was going to get eaten alive.

bucky grasped the blonde’s cock again, giving it small, rhythmic squeezes as he stared into buck’s eyes, taking in how they were welling up with tears– and how his flushed face was beading with sweat. it was so different, so absolutely wildy hot that buck, ever stoic, was falling apart below him.

buck had never had someone look at him so hotly before– not even that girl back then. it was making him nervous, but also hot and needy. the thought that his friend wanted him carnally set a fire in his stomach and his heart.

he began pumping him slowly, twisting his wrist and squeezing, all with an expertise that shocked him a little. he could still hear the buzzing of the ac and the quiet conversations of the other troops as his mouth fell open, head falling into the plush pillows behind him.

bucky’s breathing was growing heavier. he could feel the other man’s heat as he used his thumb to swipe at his leaking slit, his breath catching as buck gasped beneath him. the blonde swore he felt a certain hardness poking at his thigh, but he didn't care at all right now. he needed to cum. he needed bucky to make him cum.

“say my name.” bucky demanded, his face flushed as he began jerking buck’s cock faster. “need to hear ya say my name when you cum.”

“bucky–”

“nah. louder.” he demanded, his own breath speeding up and becoming ragged as he stroked buck faster. “scream it. yell it. make sure all our boys know.”

“fuck–” buck whimpered, his cool, stoic demeanor completely gone as he bucked his hips up into his friends fist, moaning like a cheap whore. “b-bucky!”

“that’s it. fuck– no one can make you feel like this–” he panted, speeding up his ministrations. “can they, buck? i’m the only one. don’t– ngh- ever let me catch ya with anyone else. i’ll kill ‘em.”

“bucky,” buck whimpered, his stomach clenching one final time as his orgasm washed over him, a fire like he hadn't experienced in forever. his cock shot thickly over the front of bucky’s shirt, making the other man groan and bite his lip as his friend came apart. the way bucky was straddling him, stroking him through his orgasm, the faint sounds of his friends voices through the thin wall– oh, fuck.

he dissolved into pathetic little tremors and whines as he came down, his cock bubbling weakly at the tip. bucky was panting hard, his face red and eyes hungry as he gazed at the blonde. suddenly, buck was sure that there was a hardness prodding at him.

silence.

“you–” buck panted, reaching out to grasp bucky’s erection, only to be stopped. “wha–”

“don’t worry about me.” he mumbled. “fuck, everyone’s gonna be here soon. jus’--” he stuttered, clambering off of buck awkwardly, tucking him back into his sweats. “get some sleep, buck.”

buck was too tired to try and chase after him as he scrambled away. his body felt heavy as he closed his eyes, finally succumbing to sleep.

when he awoke, he went straight to the breakfast hall. he felt like last night was some fever dream he had cooked up in his fucked up mind.

he sat at a table near the window, graciously taking the coffee he was given. only a few minutes later, the chair in front of him had been filled by his friend.

it was dead silent. then, bucky finally spoke, his voice calm and steadier than buck expected.

“sleep good last night?”

buck’s face flushed slightly, but he nodded, his eyes not leaving his plate.

“good.” bucky hummed, leaning back in his chair. “got a mission. you right and ready to fly?”

“you know it.”

“that’s my boy.” bucky smiled, and buck hated that he got butterflies in his stomach from it. “i’ll see ya in the air. don’t fall asleep in the seat, y’hear me?”

buck smiled, taking a sip from his bittersweet coffee. “don’t count on it.”

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove @lillypink

[sentoooo]

[anon: Can you write a nsfw alfabet with Smoke, if you haven't written one yet?] sorry i havent gotten to this one yet!!!! didnt mean to keep you waiting anon. im a little bit behind on requests, but here i am!!! i also wanna thank yall for the support, i really didn't expect to get a whole lotta numbers on my writing since this is all for self-indulgence really T_T. i appreciate each and every one of yall

cw: NSFW, amab, bondage, body worship, dry humping, little mention of blowjobs, not proofread MINORS DNI

ᴛᴏᴍᴀꜱ ᴠʀʙᴀᴅᴀ || ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tomas' HOBBY is taking care of you. Out of everyone, I think he is the most attentive. He has an entire checklist. First, he checks in with you. He makes sure you're okay afterward, he asks how the sex was, and sometimes he'll ask about his performance. He likes opening up the discussion because it shows him what he could do better, what you like, and what you'd like to try. Next, he's gonna cuddle up to you. Hold you all close, play with your hair, and pepper your face with kisses. After that, he'll carry you off to the shower and wash up, still peppering you with kisses. He just can't get his mind off your damn lips. Before you fall asleep, he insists on giving you a massage, and getting you a snack and some water, too. He'll even light some incense, as well. He's got all sorts of essential oils for you, like a whole library. And once he's finished his checklist, he keeps you close. Even in his sleep. He loves it when you lay your head on his chest.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is his shoulders. They make him feel especially strong. He also thinks they hold the story of his journey, from hunting with his family to becoming a ninja with the Lin Kuei. Not to mention, they help a lot with hunting, mainly with a bow. Regardless, he's just proud of how far he has come, and he believes his shoulder specifically show that.

On you, he loves your lips. Your entire face, really. But he can never get enough of your lips. How soft & inviting they are, how warm, it's just so hard to stay away from them. He always finds himself sneaking quick kisses from you in public. He also loves heavy make-out sessions, doesn't matter if they lead to sex or not. He just enjoys the feeling of your lips on his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Tomas prefers to cum inside, he thinks it's kind of like marking what's his. It also feels more intimate. But if you don't want him to, then he'll cum outside. And he kind of likes it, too. He likes how it looks on your stomach, particularly. He also loves to kiss you when he cums, it's even more intimate to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Just how much he wishes he could see you masturbate. Yeah, he can ask, but he's too nervous to. He can only imagine you, too caught up, pleasuring yourself, moaning out his name, whimpering. Yearning for him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's got some experience, just enough to know what he's doing. But he learns more with you, maybe a little too much. Because he's comfortable with you, he really likes exploring your body. And through that, he's learned of all your little quirks and such. He especially loves dragging his hand down your chest and your stomach, he finds that it makes you shiver quite a bit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Good ol' missionary. Tomas prefers to see your face, and missionary is perfect. Keeps you two close, he can kiss you whenever, however he likes. And he gets to give you as much pleasure as possible. But, if you're feeling like a little bit of a workout, he also likes London Bridge, he just really likes to get in there deep. But he also loves holding you by the small of your back.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He's serious. Like Bi-Han, sex is a very sacred act to him. It's one of the things that can establish a deeper bond with you, and he prefers to keep the tone serious. He wants you to take it seriously, too.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's smoooooth, baby. No chest hair, no pubic hair, no nothing. He likes it that way.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's amongst the sweetest. Sex is one of the deeper connections between you, so he makes sure you know he loves you. He'll outright say it, yes, but his actions speak louder than words. Mainly his attraction to your lips, he loves kissing you any chance he gets. He also loves it when you moan into his mouth. But he also spends ample time tracing your body, kissing down your neck, your chest, your stomach, all of your body. He needs you to know he loves every part of your body. Not to mention the words he'll say. He tells you exactly what he loves about you, he'll speak to you in Czech. Doesn't matter if you don't know it, sometimes he can't find the words in English. He also calls you all sorts of sweet things, Miláček, Drahoušek, Medvídek, Kotě.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't really need to jack off that much. Maybe like thrice in two weeks? But he prefers you, so he doesn't jack off unless he really can't get you off his mind.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Body Worship. All the way. Tomas loves taking his sweet time with you, admiring every little bit about you. He especially loves all the delicious little sounds you make as he goes along, how you reach for him. He loves knowing of your yearning.

He also enjoys dry humping. Knowing that the gratification of skin on skin contact is so close but so far. Grinding up against you, moaning out your name, begging for you as if he isn't doing this to himself. He also loves it when you grinding up against his knee.

Sensory Play is another another one he enjoys. Blindfolding you, mainly. But he does also enjoy light bondage. Tying you up and blindfolding you, containing yourself. He likes the idea of being able to do anything he wants to you, with consent of course. Seeing you try to wiggle out of your restraints as he enjoys your body, rubbing his hands down your legs, kissing your chest, all of that.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Tomas actually prefers fucking outside in the forest. He likes the mood, it reminds him of the nights he'd hunt. It kind of brings something primal out of him! But he doesn't mind doing it in his room, or yours. He is kind of into shower/bath sex, as well. Even if it doesn't require penetration, if he can still jack you off in the bath, he'll enjoy it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As mentioned before, simply kissing you gets him off. He loves when just a small peck leads to a nice, passionate kiss, to a full on make-out session. Especially when you end up on top of him. But he also loves watching you fight. He knows you're skilled, but just watching you in action gets him a little excited.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He hates being teased. In any sort of way. He likes to keep the rhythm going, because he's very in the mood. So edging, or a ruined orgasm really doesn't fly in his book. He hates having to beg or ask for permission to cum.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He can go either way, he likes it when you give him head, but if you ask for him to go down on you, he doesn't mind either. He kind of likes it, regardless. He likes doing anything that makes you squirm with his touch, so if you want him to, gladly. But if you offer to give him head, he won't refuse. He loves it when you deepthroat him, especially.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's got a moderate pace, not to fast, not to slow. Depends on the mood, really. If you two are having a quiet night, being soft with each other, he'll go slow & sensual. But, if things are getting heated, he's gonna go faster. And rougher, if you want. Especially in the woods, that's where he likes to fuck you pretty.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You'd have to convince him. If you two haven't been able to enjoy sex for about a month, he's okay with it. He knows the importance of sex, and just releasing that energy once in a while. But if you two have time for a full-fledged night, then he'd prefer you two wait until then.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's perfectly fine with where he is. He isn't really comfortable with risks or experimenting, he thinks he's doing fine as is. And he knows you feel good with him, so to him there's no point.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Alllll night. And maybe shower sex, afterwards. But he's all tuckered out in the morning. Because of his training (and prior hunting), he has more than enough stamina. He just needs at least a day to recover, if you do go all night.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not really, only the needs to tie you up in light bondage. But if you have toys, he'll gladly use them, and incorporate them into sex regularly. He loves giving you the extra boost of pleasure.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tomas doesn't tease, he's probably the fairest out of the roster. Because he hates being teased, he won't tease you in any way. Even if you argue that his extensive body-worship routine is teasing. You both know it's not.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Depends on the mood. If it's a sensual night, he's rather quiet, moaning directly into your ear. But if you two are out in the woods, and he's goin' rough, he'll be a lot louder, even growling a bit. Actually, some of the words he says has a bit of a growl to it, too.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sometimes, when he's real into it, he has a little bit of a Czech accent. Obviously, when he's speaking Czech. But even some phrases in English will have a little bit of accent to it. Especially when he's closer to your ear. It's not something you hear much, since he's been with the Lin Kuei longer than he had been in Prague.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Tomas is a grower, 6.2" in length when hard, 1.6" wide. Leans slightly to the right, and moderately veiny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's really just ready whenever you are. His sex drive isn't the highest, but it isn't low, either. He's patient, he can wait until whenever.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how long you two went on for. If it was all night, all he can really do is finish his aftercare checklist, and then he'll pass right out on your chest. But if you two only went for like three rounds, he's making an effort to stay up until you're asleep.

[l0vem41l]

it's a new year and i still love you.

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, gwen wearing her shoes on the bed made me wanna claw my eyes out but thatz ok can u tell shes a fave, do we f with pining and yearning, short asf but shhhh dont talk 2 me im in hiatus 」

「 gn!reader, romantic...ish relationship <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown, miles morales (1610 + 42), miguel o'hara

author's note: i miss writing for atsv. anyways this is a draft from new years. ITZ LATE I KNOW I KNOW SHHHHHH

▸ GWEN STACY who's not the best with words, but has drafted about a million letters of confession for you anyways. they stay in a shoebox under her bed— some crumpled up, folded away out of timidness, or ripped out of frustration with none of them quite good enough for you.

she's spent the entire year writing letter after letter and has experienced the hand cramps to prove it yet, no progress has been made.

during new years, she invites you over for a celebration for two, just hanging out in her bedroom.

she's praying you don't notice that she accidentally left the shoe box out. freaks out when you ask her about her new kicks— until she realizes you're referring to the ones she's wearing. the ones she stole from hobie. phew.

silently makes a promise to tell you eventually. while terrified of losing you— gwen at least wants to let you know you're loved and cherished, that you mean the world to her. maybe this year.

▸ HOBIE BROWN who's figured that whatever you have is better than nothing. he's as direct as possible with you without saying it outright. and it's not quite a relationship, not quite a friendship— but he likes it that way.

at least you're heading into the new year together, watching the fireworks in the distance on a rooftop. there's no better place to be in the world, as far as he's concerned.

hobie offers you a kiss on new years as a joke yeah right, but will definitely be surprised when you happily lean in and plant a few on his face.

"are you missing on purpose?" he quips, chuckling to himself.

he decides to place a quick one on your lips, just as it turns midnight.

both of your faces heat up as you awkwardly glance away from him— but then you feel hobie lean into your side, his head rested on your shoulder.

▸ MILES MORALES (1610) who's rehearsed the planned confession in front of his mirror night after night, only to realize an entire year has passed and he still hasn't told you.

he tries to and... yeah, fireworks make it hard for anyone to hear anything. it's okay though. at least they're pretty. not as pretty as you. he watches you tilt your head and laugh and nod politely, knowing damn well you didn't hear any of what he said.

after a moment, the noise dies down enough for you to say, "hah... uh— sorry what?"

miles decides just to crack a joke instead. something about starting his year off right with you around. nearly dies when you grin and squeeze his hand in agreement.

▸ MILES MORALES (42) gets you a nice gift even though new years gifts aren't exactly typical. just wants to show that he cares about you.

will try to scowl as you grin and gush about it but eventually chuckles at your reaction to such a simple gesture.

you have a minor freak out, realizing you have no gift for him— but he only shrugs.

"you're enough."

the grin that forms on your face is almost stupid. he's already anticipated the words that will come out of your mouth as you tease him for being sappy. he just rolls his eyes, threatening to never be nice again. whine and complain about it and he'll reconsider.

▸ MIGUEL O'HARA is barely celebrating new years. sure, realizes he's done absolutely NOTHING in terms of confession and intends to keep it that way. i mean. he's kinda busy. and maybe this next year will pull you two apart.

you don't kiss him at midnight, mainly because he's barely spoken the entire time and you're worried about his silence— but you place your palm in his instead. the size difference of your hands makes you smile slightly.

you pause, glancing at him. "i have a good feeling about this year."

he quirks an eyebrow up. "yeah?"

"yeah. we'll have each other."

your earnest smile is enough to send him into cardiac arrest atp.

"...i guess i have a good feeling about it too then."

— reblogs always appreciated!

[vashs-turtleneck]

Three Empty Words.

✧ More than friends, less than lovers.

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY)

Summary: You love Vash. Does he love you back? It's complicated. Pairing: Vash the Stampede x reader Wc: 1.8k Cw: angst, smut, situationship, penetrative sex, pwp, crying, rough sex. An: trying to get myself back into writing after being gone for a little bit so sorry if this is a little bit messy! Also I don't usually do song recs buuuuut Song Recommendation: Sugar - Sleep Token

Vash is emotional.

He'd probably never outright admit that to you, and he seems awfully intent on keeping you at an arm's length no matter what you do, but you've been around him long enough to notice those rare and faint cracks in that perfect facade. As much as he tries to hide it, you can see it. His eyes are sad and his smile is hollow. He desperately seeks for love in a world where it feels impossible to find, and yet denies himself of it when it's right there, walking alongside him.

But there are some nights, after particularly strenuous travels and when too much venom has been spat his way where that handsome facade finally cracks. 

He's vulnerable, and he reaches for you, baring to you his fleeting moments of weakness. Deep down, you know what he's really searching for. Forgiveness, acceptance, love. But now, he seeks you for comfort in any way you're willing to give it to him and as much as you are willing to give him. He wants mercy. At least for the evening.

His will is strong enough that he'll never allow himself to have you, but just weak enough that he can't truly resist you. He yearns for you.

And you're not quite sure how it all started, or how you both got to this point - how you let things get so messy - but damn it you'd be lying if you said you didn't want this in any form. As long as you can have him. Even if it's just physically. Even if it's just for a night.

Sometimes it's loving, with worshipful hands – one smooth and cold, one warm and calloused – tracing your lines with a reverence you have to tell yourself isn't real. With wet lips pressing featherlight kisses along the curves of your neck and down the divot of your collarbone, his mouth wandering a slow, meandering path along your body and meticulously etching out every spot that makes your breath hitch like he's trying to commit it to memory.

It's tender, with languid strokes that have one orgasm flowing into the next, until you're left a pliable, boneless mess beneath him, whimpering his name over and over and your body begging for him to do whatever he wants to you. Luckily for you, you're in good hands. He's here to take care of you, even if it's for his own selfish reasons.

Your name falls off his lips like a plea for forgiveness, kisses oh so tender, drinking your moans like they're the sweetest ambrosia. He roves over your body with intimate familiarity and pulls you apart piece by piece with his fingers, his mouth, his cock, cataloging every inch of your skin before he puts you back together so he can do it all over again, all while whispering a litany of praises and sweet nothings.

“You're so beautiful when you're like this. Always so perfect, mayfly.”

“You're doing so well, feel so good around me.”

“Am I hurting you? Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart. Just wanna make you feel good.”

“Let me just move your legs like– Yeah, like that. That feels good, right? Just like that. Now I can fuck you deeper.”

“You like me filling you with my cock like this, mayfly? You take me so well. So perfectly.”

“You're so pretty like this. All flushed and delicate.”

“Not so fast, angel. Wanna make this last. Wanna savour you.”

“So beautiful when you come. I could watch you for hours.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Sweet, beautiful, angelic, the words dripping from his lips like syrup. You hold on to them while you can, because you know they'll be gone come morning.

You wish he'd let you in. You wish he'd truly open up to you and not only seek you out when he's desperate. Fuck, you love him. You see him at his most vulnerable moments, you hold him close when he lets you, and you let him take pleasure in your body as he needs because you love him, all sides of him.

But, Vash is also angry, and that's a side of him he keeps hidden even in his most delicate moments. 

Sometimes, those feelings he keeps buried deep bubble up. When he's completely run out of those briefly lucky moments and he's forced to face the darkest, sickest sides of what humanity has to offer and he's made to question what it's all even for.

Sometimes it's almost selfish, possessive, with him wordlessly cornering you and his large frame caging you in against the nearest surface, strategically leaning his arm up on the wall next to your head so that you have nowhere else to run off to, nothing else to look at, only him - wholly commanding your attention with sapphire eyes begging for something he knows you can give him. He needs a reminder, and you're far too swooped up in the typhoon to deny him. 

It's impatient, with his flesh and bone hand holding your hip in a bruising grip while cool metal keeps your face forcefully pressed down into the dusty sheets. You wouldn't be able to cry out for him to stop even if you wanted to as he steals your breath away every time his scarred hips slam against the softness of your ass, your desperation making itself obvious to him in the form of the slickness pouring from between your thighs. He has your mind swirling under his ruthless onslaught of pleasure as he takes full advantage of each and every one of your lewdest weaknesses. He knows exactly where to touch, where to taste, where to tease, where to bite, red marks littering your pretty neck that'll bloom into faint purples and blues come morning. The dingy walls echo with the wet sounds of flesh connecting as he starts greedily chasing his own pleasure with every rolling buck of his stuttering hips, your name spilling from his lips like a curse, fucking you like it's another sin for him to bare.

“Take it. Take all of it, mayfly. I know you can.”

“Spread your legs wider. Wider.”

“Look at you. Such a mess.”

“Gonna fuck you dumb, make sure you don't know which way is up or down when I'm done with you. Until the only thing you know is me.”

“Say my name.”

“Say it louder.”

“Touch yourself. Wanna watch you cream on my cock.”

“That's it. Fuck– That's it.”

“So fucking pretty when you fall apart.”

“Come for me. Come for me now.”

“Such a good little thing for me. Nobody else gets to touch you like this, make you moan like this, fill you up like this.”

“Tell me it's all for me. Tell me it's all mine.”

“Look at me.”

“Let me see you break.”

And when his breaths calm and his pleasure filled haze fades, when that fleeting moment of rapture dissipates, the guilt comes flooding back, leaving him faced with where he is, what he's done, and worst of all, who he's done it all with.

No matter how it goes, it always ends the same way, with him whispering his broken apologies as streams of tears pour from those ethereal pools of azure.

“I'm sorry.” 

“I'm so sorry, mayfly.” 

“I'm so sorry.”

It doesn't matter how many times you try to comfort him, how many times you tell him that you want this, or that you want him. Your sweet and gentle words do nothing to ease the ache he feels in his chest. If anything, you're making it worse. 

“I don't deserve this. Any of this.”

“Especially not you.”

“Never you.”

He always stays close to you for the night. He sobs and lets his tears fall on the skin where your neck meets your shoulder, brokenly weeping his regrets, begging you for forgiveness. He cries until the exhaustion seeps into his bones and pulls him into a deep sleep, his tears still staining his cheeks and his limbs still tangled with yours.

You wrap your arms around him and keep him pressed to you, savouring the soothing heat of his body on your skin, the feeling of his breath on your neck, the peaceful tempo of his inhales and exhales. Your thumbs brush away any remaining tears, your fingers ghosting over his sun-kissed skin, dancing over the curve of his jaw, the highs of his cheekbones, over that cute little mole, down along the bridge of his nose until you're tracing over those slightly parted lips. You keep him close while you still have him, holding on to these fleeting moments of intimacy you get to indulge in. Like always, it'll be gone come morning.

It never goes into the morning. 

No, when the morning light spills through the curtains and when the suns rise, you both pretend none of it ever happened. He rolls off of you and walks off towards the shower without a word. His tear-stained eyes are still puffy and red, but they don't even look at you. He keeps quiet, and when you're both cleansed of any evidence of your passionate evening together, he gives you that lovely, empty smile that you've grown to recognize. 

It hurts every fucking time you see it.

You wander through empty dessert together, making small talk, just like friends do. Never do you discuss what's happened, what you two are, what you feel.

Once again, you're kept at an arm's length.

Until the next night, or maybe it'll be the night after, when he's suddenly hugging you from behind with his breath on the column of your throat, whining and apologizing as he begs for you.

“I'm sorry. I know I don't deserve it, don't deserve you, but just… please. You're the only one I can trust with this.”

“Please, mayfly. I need you. I'm sorry.”

Sometimes, he waits until the marks he left on you have faded. Maybe it's so he can mark you up again, pretend like any and every part of you belongs to him and give in to that satisfaction he gets from knowing he's the one who does this to you, that he's the one who leaves you writhing and moaning and begging on soiled sheets for any ounce of his touch.

Or maybe it's so he can admire every inch of your divine, unclaimed flesh, and he can pretend he was never selfish enough to try to mark you to begin with. He can pretend that he was never so foolish as to believe he could touch the holy body that is you with his blightful and wicked hands.

And he can pretend that those three beautiful words never fell from his perfect lips.

divider source.

[absurdthirst]

The Wolf in the Woods {Werewolf!Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.4k

Warnings: Oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, wildlife, secrets, werewolves, monster fucking, werewolf tongue, werewolf cock, rough sex, harsh sex, cream pie

Comments: You finally convince Marcus to take you up to his remote cabin in the mountains. Not realizing that there is something in the woods. Something that has Marcus chaining the cabin doors shut to keep out.

**Monster fucking! Don't like it, don't read**

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Marcus Pike MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Come on baby, it’ll be perfect. Me, you, alone for the first time in forever.” You plead your case over the phone, slightly annoyed that your boyfriend had to cancel yet another date but you don’t try to take it out on him. He’s the in-charge agent, the department head of Art Crimes. You know his job is stressful. “We can relax, sleep in.” You hum suggestively. “Spend all day in bed if we want to. I know you’ve been so busy, a weekend at that cabin of yours would be wonderfully refreshing for us both. I’ll even do all the cooking.”

Marcus smiles against the other home at the thought of you and him curling up in bed all day. Something neither of you have the luxury of due to your demanding jobs and Marcus yearns for that kind of intimacy. He pulls up the lunar chart to see when the full moon is. Shit, it’s on Saturday. He will be in transition all weekend. It’s only once a month but he has to be careful with his more feral nature around you. He bites his lip, wondering if he can lock himself out while he transitions. You are getting frustrated with him and he doesn’t want to make you walk away because he keeps flaking on you. You don’t know about his true nature and he wants to keep it that way. “Or not.” You say due to his silence and he can hear the disappointment in your voice and he knows he can’t say no. 

“Okay baby. This weekend. You wanna come to mine on Friday after work and then we can head over there? Get groceries on the way? It’s not stocked up.”

You smile, relieved that he’s not blowing you off, afraid that he has been losing interest and is too much of a gentleman to break things off. “That sounds great, we can have a nice, quiet weekend getaway.” You are happy that there’s no chance of starting your period, it’s at least two weeks away so there can be a lot of sex. Having every intention of waking Marcus up with a blow job one morning. “I’ll see you on Friday, baby. Don’t worry about tonight,” you tell him, letting him hang up after a quick goodbye so he could get back to work. 

**** 

Knocking on his door, you bite your lip. The bag slung across your shoulder is filled with lingerie and things to entice your boyfriend and you hope he enjoys the surprise. “Hey baby.” You smile when he opens the door almost as soon as you pull your hand back, like he had been waiting for you.

Marcus is nervous but he’s determined to give you a good time. He does love you. He hasn’t told you yet. He’s too afraid that if he gets too close, you will find out what he truly is. He smiles at you, hoping you don’t realize he’s been standing by the door. He takes your bag, leaning in to softly kiss you. 

“Hey sweetheart. I’ve missed you.” He murmurs, “how was the drive over?”

“It was good.” You feel like Marcus’s scent has changed. It’s muskier, bolder than the normal scent he wears from body wash and cologne. Very primal and you like it. “I was daydreaming about this handsome hunk I’m going away with for the weekend.” You tease, giving him a playful wink.

Marcus inhales your scent and he swallows down the growl that threatens to work its way up his throat. He clears his throat and guides you inside. “You ready to hit the road or do you wanna use the bathroom first?”

“Oh, I probably should.” You lean in and press your lips to his. “I’ll be really quick.” You promise and rush off to the guest bathroom Marcus had down the hall. He’s perfect and you know that you want to tell him that you love him this weekend.

Marcus curls his fingers into fists, trying to stop himself from wanting to give in to the animalistic urges inside of him. The ones that want to claim you as his. He inhales deeply and carries your bag into the garage so he can place it in the trunk of his car. He has the padlocks and chains in the other bag along with his own overnight bag.

Washing your hands quickly, you come out of the bathroom just as Marcus comes in from the garage. “I’m ready whenever you are, baby.” You promise with a smile. “And I have packed a few surprises for you.”

Marcus bites his lip, smirking at you. “Yeah? I can’t wait to see ‘em. Come on. Let’s hit the road. It’s a few hours to get there and I don’t wanna get caught in Friday night traffic.” He opens the passenger door for you, helping you in and as he rounds the car, he exhales shakily, begging himself to be good this weekend. Once the car is out of the garage and he’s certain everything is locked, he hits the gas to get out of D.C.

“So I am hoping you have a grill.” You tell him once he’s off the Highway. “Maybe a couple of steaks tonight or tomorrow?” You ask. 

“Rare.” Marcus nearly growls the request and your eyes widen slightly. 

“Got it. You like your steak rare.” You laugh.

Marcus grips the steering wheel a little too hard and he cracks his neck. “I have a grill. Tonight maybe?” He suggests, his inner wolf growling at the thought of a rare steak. He pushes him down and turns on the radio to distract himself.

“Tonight is good.” Marcus seems a little distracted and you feel bad. Poor man has been overworked for months now. “Some red meat, Some wine, a little sex and then some sleep.” You reach over and lay your hand on his thigh. “Come back from the cabin a new man.”

Marcus chuckles nervously, “I hope.” He reaches for your hand to squeeze it and he brings it up his lips to kiss the back of it. “You’re too good to me.” He murmurs and he sighs when he lowers your hand to squeeze the gear shift with your hand in his.

Your heart melts. “I love you.” You blurt out. It’s not the romantic, sexy way you imagined telling him, but you don’t want him to doubt this for a second. You are completely head over heels for him. “I know it’s odd to say in a car, but I love you Marcus.”

Marcus is taken back by your confession and his heart melts, “I love you too.” He says, turning his head to look at you. “It’s - I wanted to tell you this weekend. Properly. Romantic. But I love you baby.” He smiles at you, kissing your hand again.

“I’m sorry.” You grin, not really sorry for it but you’ll pretend. “I just couldn’t wait. And I don’t know what it is, but you just seem….more dominate today. It’s really sexy and…” you break off, feeling slightly embarrassed by your confession.

Marcus swallows down the growl that threatens to make its way up his throat and he clears it, turning slightly to smirk at you. “Yeah? You like a bit of dominance?” He asks. Your love making so far has been just that. Soft and sensual since Marcus has been trying to conceal his true nature, even biting into the pillow when he has the urge to bite.

“Don’t get me wrong.” You hastily try to reassure him. “I love our sex life. I’m always satisfied with you.” The last thing you want is for Marcus to think you are unhappy. “I just know that exploration is always healthy in a relationship.”

Marcus flusters, knowing you want more from him. He wants to give you more but he’s afraid he’s gonna go too far, lose control. “I know. Maybe this weekend we can experiment a bit.” He compromises, knowing it might be good to let his more animalistic urges come out a little.

You don’t say anything, just lean over in your seat to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to make you the biggest, rarest steak I can find.” You promise happily. “We can split a bottle of wine. Get a little tipsy and then…” you bite your lip. “I want to suck your cock. Let you relax.”

Marcus groans, “you are too fucking good to me, baby. I- shit. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He says, flexing his fingers on the wheel as the urge to just pull over and claim you hits him again. The drive isn’t too long to get out of the city and soon enough Marcus is pulling up outside of his cabin in Virginia.

“I’m glad that little grocery store had everything we needed.” You had been impressed by the little country store. It seemed quaint, but inside was a good selection of food, obviously catering to people who weekend up in the mountains. “Oh this is so cute, Marcus.” You coo, taking in the rustic little one bedroom cabin. “No wonder you like to get away up here.”

Marcus smiles, trying not to frown because there’s a reason why he comes here. “Yeah it’s a nice place to escape from the hustle and bustle. I enjoy it.” He hums and kills the engine after parking the car. He gets out and scoots around the car to open your door, still a gentleman despite his biology. “Let me open up and then I’ll grab the bags.” He says and walks over to the door to open up the front door.

He seems distracted and you wonder if he was regretting bringing you. Perhaps his escape from the hustle and bustle also included you. You feel a little guilty for pushing him but you didn’t want to spend another weekend apart. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get started on dinner right away.” You offer.

“Of course babe.” Marcus smiles as he lets you in after unlocking the alarm and he prays you don’t see the scratch marks adorning the door. He should fix those but there’s been no point until now. No one else has ever come out here. He lets you in and rushes out to grab the groceries so you can start dinner right away.

It’s far more simplistic than you imagined and yet, it fits your boyfriend. “It’s rustic.” You remind yourself, knowing that it could be even more so. It could not have electricity or running water. The minimal furniture looks comfortable and you wonder if Marcus just reads or sleeps when he comes up here.

“Yeah it’s uh pretty basic.” Marcus says as he sets the bags down. He got sick of replacing furniture so it’s bare bones but it gets the job done. There’s no TV because he ripped that off the wall the first weekend he stayed in the cabin. “I’ll get our bags.” He says and kisses your forehead before he heads back out to the car.

You hum as you start to organize the groceries, pulling them out of the bags and you frown when you open the refrigerator door. The appliance was completely empty. No old jelly or even a left behind beer. “You weren’t kidding when you said it wasn’t stocked.” You shake your head, wondering if he just didn’t keep anything here or if he went out to a local restaurant while he was here. “At least we gave the pans and plates.” You tell him as he comes in. “I don’t mind basic at all. Better for snuggling up to you.”

Marcus leans in to kiss your hair, “exactly. I want this to be a good weekend.” He hopes that down to his core, and he murmurs your name as he takes the milk from your hand to put it away. He wants you to be comfortable here and he’s terrified he’s going to do something wrong. You soon get to work on making dinner and Marcus turns on the radio. “You want some help baby?”

“Would you fire up the grill?” You ask with a grin as you look up from the cutting board. Marcus had grumbled about the vegetables, although he normally is the one to want a salad. It’s cute though. “The steaks are ready to grill.”

Marcus nods, happy to do whatever you want. He wants to make sure you’re happy during your weekend, especially since he doesn’t want you to get suspicious. He playfully smacks your ass as he passes, driven by his instincts as he heads outside to get the grill ready.

“This is going to be good for us.” You smirk as you toss the salad together and take the steaks outside. “Thank you, baby.” You hum as he closes the lid on the grill, all fired up.

Marcus is a good cook, able to grill up some steaks and he makes his extra rare, the rumble in his stomach from both hunger and being restrained. He sets the steaks down on the table when they are done, thanking you for the wine you let breathe. “To us.” He toasts, wanting to make this a good weekend together.

“To us.” You had been surprised when he had taken over grilling, but you don’t complain. It makes it better, fixing a meal together. Cutting into your steak, you groan at the taste. “This is so good, baby.” You praise. “How is yours?”

“Perfect.” He practically growls, almost picking up the steak to tear into it with his teeth but he controls himself. The steak is barely cooked - a minute on each side at most. He tries to swallow down some salad but he’s so starved for meat he ignores most of it.

“Do you want some of mine?” You are startled by how quickly Marcus wolfs down his steak, but maybe he’s really hungry. “I’m stuffed.”

Marcus should tell you no but the steak looks too good so he reaches out to grab it with his hand, barely managing to grab a knife and fork to cut it when he wants to just sink his teeth into it.

“Next time I’ll get another steak.” You promise, smiling indulgently as you watch him eat. There’s something almost animalistic about his hunger and you wonder if he will carry that through to the bedroom tonight.

Marcus groans when he finishes the steak, his stomach full but it’s still not enough. “Thanks for the, uh, salad, baby.” He blushes as he looks down at his uneaten salad on his plate. “Sorry. I just really wanted steak.” He murmurs, cutting his gaze across the room.

“That’s okay.” You shrug and reach across the table to take his plates. “I don’t mind.” Standing up, you smirk. “I’ll get these washed up and meet you in the bedroom?”

Marcus nods, knowing it’s late. You left after work so it’s getting dark and he knows you want him. He can smell it on you. He wants you too, more than you could ever imagine. He growls softly under his breath when you walk into the kitchen and he stands up, not bothering to lock the doors. He will lock them later. He makes his way to the bedroom and works on stripping out of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers.

You bite your lip after you finish washing the dishes. You had let him take the bag into the bedroom, so you can’t surprise him with lingerie, so you just decide to strip down. Knowing that he would never think that was a bad thing. Quickly peeling off your clothes, you saunter towards the bedroom, eager to see his reaction to your need for him.

Marcus sees you as you enter the bedroom and his jaw drops. Fuck, you look delicious. He groans and his cock hardens in his boxers, shifting as he sits on the foot of the bed. “Fuck baby.” He murmurs, his dark eyes drinking you in and he swallows down the urge to grab you and make you his, mark you, claim you.

“I should have thought about getting out the lingerie before you came in here.” You admit, shrugging as you appreciate the possessive look in his eyes. He looks positively feral, like he just wants to eat you up and that makes your pussy throb. “Take off your boxers, baby. I want to suck your cock.”

Marcus groans, working fast to push his boxers down his legs and when you kneel in front of him, his heart pounds in his chest and he struggles to restrain himself. “Baby. You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs as you rub his thighs, looking up at him. He groans when you take his cock into your hand and he growls softly.

You aren’t sure why he’s so growly lately, but don’t mind it at all. The sounds shoot straight to your pussy and you feel yourself growing wetter. Smirking up at him, you keep eye contact as you lean in and press your tongue to the head of his cock.

“Fuckkk.” Marcus hisses, his fingers digging into the sheets and he tries to keep his eyes open as your hot tongue presses against the underside of his cock. “Fuck baby. You- shit.” He hisses, closing his eyes to keep control.

“I want you to relax.” You tell him when you pull your tongue away. Starting to slowly stroke his cock up and down before you take the head back into your mouth.

Marcus is tense, unable to help himself as he tries to control the beast within him. He doesn’t want to hurt you. It’s the last thing he wants. He struggles to not rip the sheets as you take him deeper into your hot mouth, your tongue pressed against him, and his eyes roll back when you hollow your cheeks. “Fuck baby. Jesus.” He hisses as he tries to keep his hips on the bed.

You moan around him and eagerly start to bob up and down on his cock. Wanting to feel the way his thighs tense against your breasts and he growls your name. Wanting to make him cum and fill your mouth.

“Fuck. Oh Christ. It’s so good, baby. Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He groans, his neck tensing as his cock twitches inside of your mouth. He moans your name, rocking up to push his cock deeper down your throat.

Marcus isn't overly thick, but he is long. The thrust up makes you choke slightly but you don't pull away. Making it your mission to take everything he wants to give you this weekend and beg for more. You want to make sure that this cabin and what happens in it is burned in his memory and tied to you. Letting go of his cock, you grip his thighs and let him fuck your mouth as you push down.

Marcus can’t resist, thrusting up into your mouth. He groans your name as you stay still, just letting him fuck your throat. “Fuck baby. I- I’m gonna - shit. Shit. Shit.” He hisses and his ass cheeks clench as his cock twitching, his cum hitting your tongue as you pull your head up.

Your whine is cut off by the cum flooding your mouth. It feels like he’s not cum in a year. Feeling him grab the back of your neck and hold you while his hips rock up. Your cunt is dripping at the rougher treatment. One hand slipping down and rubbing your clit as you swallow him down in big gulps.

“Fuck baby. So good to me.” Marcus hisses as you swallow every drop and his eyes open to find you rubbing your clit. Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. The sheet rips beneath his grip as he shakes through his orgasm. “Get - need to taste you.” Marcus growls as he shifts to lay down on the bed, his cock flopping from your mouth. “Sit on my face.”

You are never one who is shy about taking your own pleasure but this time it’s almost an order that you don’t want to take. To see if he would just grab you. Slowly straddling his chest, you don’t move any closer, looking down and caressing his cheek.

Marcus growls, unhappy with you not sitting on his face. He grabs your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he drags you up his chest and over his face, his tongue diving in to slide through your folds. His growl is muffled as he samples your cunt and he sucks on your clit, ravenous for you.

Squealing in surprise, you grab onto the solid headboard to hang on as Marcus seemingly devours you. “Oh fuck, Marcus.” You moan, head dropping back and body rocking forward as he pulls you closer.

He is like a man starved, his tongue pushing into you as his nose presses against your clit. He groans your name even though you can’t understand it. He wants you. In every damn way he can have you. His fingers dig deeper, certain to leave bruises but he doesn’t care as he wants you to rock on top, take your pleasure.

You start to follow his silent command. Rolling your hips and grinding down onto his face like you are giving his face a lap job. In a way, you are, but you’re too busy massaging your tits while you moan his name again. “Marcus, oh fuck baby, your tongue is so deep.”

Your cry has him smirking against your pussy. His tongue is extra long when he’s close to the full moon and he’s glad he can use what he is for something positive. He groans into you, his nose pressed against your clit. He wants to hear you cry for him. He yearns to hear you scream.

Your eyes slip close and you whimper again and again as you rock your hips over his face. “Oh fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum.” Panting as you get closer to the orgasm that is building up, your tongue gets looser. “I love you, oh baby, I want you, this forever.”

Marcus’s heart pounds in his chest at your words, loving how passionate you sound as you chase your orgasm. He groans as you rock faster, little whines escaping your lips and he curls his tongue, his fingers shifting to caressing your puckered hole between your cheeks after he spreads them.

“Oh shit.” Your eyes spring open in surprise. Marcus has never even ventured close to your other hole but you don’t mind, “please.” You whimper.

He understands what you need and he pushes his finger inside of you a little, desperately needing you to cum for him. He loves how you taste and how you sound when you cum.

When he slides his tongue deeper, you wail his name. Body convulsing and seizing up as you come apart. Your walls clench down around his tongue and you soak him with your juices.

Marcus laps you up, his cock now hardening at your orgasm. One of the perks of his composition is his ability to recover even as he gets older. "I fucking love you." He groans when you lift up off of him and he kisses your soaked thighs.

“I love you too.” You moan softly, giggling quietly at the post orgasm rush and wiggle down his body to press your lips to his. “Are you ready to fuck me, Agent Pike?”

Marcus nods, feeling loved and yet he’s still feral. Wanting to claim you but he channels his softer side to give you what you need tonight. “Lay down baby.” He says, lifting you off of him and you shift to lay down. He wastes no time kneeling between your legs, his hands sliding along your body until he’s cupping your tits.

Your legs drape onto his hips, eagerly wrapping around him and there’s something different about Marcus. He seems harder, sharper almost in the light of the cabin. Squeezing your tits until you gasp and arch up under his touch. “Take me, baby.” You moan.

Marcus pinches your nipples, getting a little rougher than normal. He shuffles closer on his knees and he grips his cock, pumping himself a few times. "My girl needs me to fuck her?" He coos, asking you as he jerks his cock.

“Yesssss, oh fuck yes.” You whimper, finding it incredibly sexy to watch this man stroke himself so confidently. Whatever is happening, you love it and it is making you desperate for him. “Please baby, fuck me. I need you inside me.”

He doesn’t torture you anymore, knowing he needs to be inside of you. He shuffles even closer to notch the head of his cock at your entrance after swiping it through your folds and he hisses as he pushes into you. You’re so wet. So hot. So tight. He is hesitant to be too rough but his instincts are telling him to just push deep and set a frantic pace until he cums.

The first thrust tells you that this time is going to be different. Marcus is a very careful and thorough lover. Always making sure that you are completely satisfied when you are done, but he’s very restrained. You can tell there are times that he wants to go harder or deeper and even though you assure him you can take it, he doesn’t give in.

He is feral, his chest heaving as he looks down at you. His eyes dark as he twitches deep inside of you. Usually he’d take his time letting you adjust to him but he doesn’t give you that luxury. He starts to move inside of you, harsh thrusts that makes your body jiggle.

Your eyes widen and your fingers dig into his shoulders as he starts to fuck you ruthlessly. Stealing your breath at the brutal pace that makes your entire body lurch up on the bed. “Fuck!” You scream, eyes rolling back from pleasure.

Your scream spurs him on, thrusting harder, his hands grabbing your thighs to lift them higher until he decides to push them back into your stomach. His weight pressing you into the mattress as he fucks you hard and fast. “Fuck baby. Fuck. Need you. Need this.” He growls, leaning down to lick along your neck.

​​You don’t know what possessed Marcus, but all you can do is cum for him. His cock hits something magical inside you and with a squeal, your walls clench down around him and soak him in a torrent of your juices.

“Fuckkkk.” Marcus hisses as you soak his stomach and pelvis with your cum, hot and wet and so fucking sexy. He hisses your name, thrusting a few times, hard and deep until his cock twitches as he cums inside of you. Painting your walls as he practically roars, unable to believe how good you feel.

It’s beastly and you are utterly captivated by the sight of Marcus, straining and grunting over you as he fills you up. The heat of his cum flooding your womb and making you moan.

Marcus kisses along your neck, refraining the urge to bite your neck. “So good.” He murmurs, “You’re so good to me.” He coos and you caress his back, “so good.”

“Baby.” You moan quietly, turning your head and kissing along his jaw. “I love you so much. That was- incredible.”

Marcus murmurs, “I love you too.” He nudges his nose against yours, trying to be affectionate and he stays inside of you but shifts to lay on his back, you on his chest. He strokes your back, knowing that once you’re asleep, he’s going to need to get the duffel bag from his car so he can prepare for midnight.

His heart is galloping in his chest and you hum, stroking his shoulder affectionately. “That was amazing.” You murmur before you yawn. “Wore me out.”

Marcus chuckles, “wore me out too, baby.” He murmurs, caressing your back as you relax on top of him. He can smell himself all over you and that makes him hum. He loves it. He loves you. “Baby, you want a snack or some water?”

“I’m good.” You purr quietly. “I’m going to go to sleep and wake up early to make sure that you get the best blow job you’ve ever had.”

Marcus snorts, “you already did that.” He kisses your hair, “but you can try to beat it baby.” He murmurs, “just go to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”

One of the best things about Marcus is his aftercare. You smile as you settle down against his chest and close your eyes. You have the best boyfriend in the entire world, one that you love.

Marcus lets you drift off to sleep before he rolls you onto your back. He pulls out of you and shuffles into the bathroom to grab a rag to clean you up. He works fast to clean you and covers you with the comforter. He kisses your forehead and makes his way into the bathroom to clean himself up. Exhaling heavily as he looks into the mirror, his fingers curl into the sink as he feels the moon is high in the sky. He needs to prepare and keep you safe inside.

**** 

You wake up to Marcus curled around you, his nose pressed against your neck and he is snoring like he's not slept in ten years. Your plans for waking him up to a blow job are temporarily on hold. He needs sleep more than he needs sex and you slowly slip out of his arms. You'll make some coffee and take it out to the porch so he can sleep.

Marcus had a long night. After you fell asleep, he grabbed his bag from the car and locked up the house, making sure you were secure before he chained himself to a tree a couple of miles away. He doesn’t really know what happened after midnight - he gets flashes during his sleep if it’s been a while since he’s transitioned - and last night was one of those times.

When you’re pouring a cup of the coffee, you hear Marcus whimper, making you frown as you look toward the bedroom. Deciding that he does need to rest more, you shut off your alarm before it can ring, a habit of your weekends to make sure you don’t sleep all day, and slip outside the door to the fresh morning air.

Marcus should wake up but he usually sleeps most of the day when he’s out here. Only coming here once a month when it’s needed. He curls into a ball, pulling your pillow close to breathe you in.

You sigh softly, smiling as you look out at the valley through the small clearing of trees. It really is a beautiful view, although you know you are quite isolated. There hadn’t been one light besides yours on the mountain last night. You turn back to check to make sure you closed the door and gasp loudly, almost a shriek. Deep gouges in the wood, resembling claw marks, decorate the door and frame. Many of them, as if some large creature was trying to get in. “Oh shit.” Your eyes start flickering around the woods surrounding the cabin as if you expect a creature to attack you right now.

Marcus doesn't stir until he hears your scream. He wakes with a fright and stumbles out of the cabin. "Baby. Baby. What's wrong?" He pants, still in his boxers and wondering if there's something else out there besides him.

You grab onto Marcus, turning him towards the door. “There’s something- it tried to get into the cabin!” You cry out. “Is it a bear? Did a bear try to break in?”

Marcus's eyes widen at the claw marks on the door. He tried to get in the door. He tried to get to you last night. That makes his heart pound as he steps out to look at the door frame. "Fuck baby. I- it was probably a bear. This has happened before. I - you're safe." he promises you, "I will keep you safe."

“Oh my god.” You shiver and reach out to touch the marks. “That’s a big fucking bear.” You tell him. Something seems odd, Marcus had nearly had a heart attack when he saw the marks. If it happened before, why does he look so upset? “Look!” You rush down the steps. “Tracks.”

Marcus is terrified that you’re going to find out his secret. He reaches for your shoulder. “It’s gone now. Probably smelled the food. Just - let’s go inside and have some breakfast. Probably a bear. It’s long gone, baby.” He says, trying to sound convincing.

Something about that sounds wrong but you don’t argue. Instead, you let him guide you into the cabin and close the door firmly behind the two of you. “Should we store the food differently?” You ask him, knowing he spends a lot of time up here. He would know.

Marcus shakes his head, “no. No. I don’t think that’s necessary. Why don’t we head inside and - God, I need a coffee, baby.” He tries to change the subject, his hand hovering on the small of your back to get you inside. He’s trying to keep cool but he is freaking out a little that the beast inside of him tried so desperately to get into the cabin…to get to you.

That does the trick, immediately distracting you from the animal marks on the door. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I woke you up.” You cup his face, feeling guilty about disturbing his sleep. “Let me go get you a coffee and I’ll start breakfast. You can lay down again if you want?”

Marcus softens and relaxes as you cup his cheek and he nods, reaching for your wrist and turning his head so he can press a soft kiss to your palm. "I'm up now sweetheart. Let's get a cup of coffee and we can work on breakfast together. I, uh, kinda just want bacon."

“Just bacon?” Your eyes widen dramatically. “Marcus Pike doesn’t want pancakes?” Teasingly, you touch the back of your hand to his forehead. “You don’t seem to be sick.”’

Marcus chuckles, "I just really want bacon." He confesses, knowing he usually loves pancakes but for some reason, he just doesn't want them today. He wants meat.

“Then bacon is what you will get.” You promise, leaning in and pressing your lips to his before you turn back to pour him a cup of coffee.

"You're too good to me." Marcus repeats for the hundredth time. He means it. You are too good for him. He's terrified of you finding out the truth. That's what sent his first wife running. He swallows harshly as you pour him a cup of coffee and he sits down at the kitchen table. "I thought maybe today we could go for a hike?" He suggests, knowing that the exercise might wear him out enough to not run too much at night.

“Sure.” You had expected to relax, but if Marcus wants to hike and show you some of the area, that’s fine with you. “I can make some sandwiches if you want? Or- no, we shouldn’t do that.” You decide. “We might attract that bear.”

Marcus doesn’t argue, wanting you to believe it’s a bear. He sips his coffee as he watches you cook. He offered to help but you told him to relax. Little do you know that it’s almost impossible since he is worried about the claw marks. He stands up when you set the bacon off to the side to drain and his hands find your waist, his lips on your neck.

“Hmmmmm.” Closing your eyes, you tilt your head to the side to give him better access to your skin. “I love when you kiss my neck. When you do anything to me, really.”

Marcus smiles against your skin, “me too. I mean, whatever you do to me…always so fucking good.” He murmurs and continues kissing along your neck, dragging the strap of your shirt down to kiss your shoulder. “Taste better than bacon.” He chuckles against your skin. “Delicious.” He says as he licks along your neck.

The hard length of his cock is starting to press against your back and you don’t mind it at all. Moaning softly as you grind back against him. He’s apparently in the mood and you aren’t going to discourage him. “Want a quickie while the food cools?” You pant out, wishing you could kiss him.

Marcus groans, grinding a little harder against you. He murmurs your name and spins you around, lifting you onto the kitchen table and he grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. “So fucking beautiful.” He hisses as he looks at your tits, wasting no time ducking down to take a nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck, Marc-“ your moan is strangled as he attacks your breasts with a ferocious hunger. His hands grabbing your ass and sliding you forward to press against your core. You aren’t wearing panties, he had put a shirt on you but no panties so his boxers are starting to rub against your clit. “Fuck. Baby.” Your eyes close as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. “Fuck me.”

He growls, low and deep in his chest as he squeezes your ass. Fuck, he needs you. His fingers trail down from your breast to your core, groaning when he finds you wet for him. He hisses your name and moves fast to shove his boxers down, his cock hard and aching for you already. It doesn't take much to get him going during the full moon. He grips his cock, pushing your thighs further apart with his free hand as he positions himself until he is pushing into you,

He pushes the air out of your lungs in a squeal. The full length of him pushing inside you until he is grinding deeper, as if he wants to burrow inside your cunt. Your legs wrap around his waist and your own kisses start to scatter over his skin. “Oh god, I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.” You whine, incredibly turned on by how rough he’s being.

His hands grab your ass, pulling you even closer, and he starts to move inside of you. Low groans escaping his lips as he rocks into you, hard and fast. His lips find yours, smothering both of your moans, and he hisses when you bite down on his lower lip.

There’s something unique about the way that Marcus is acting and you can’t sort it out. Not that you are trying very hard when your sweet and loving boyfriend is fucking you like his life depends on it. Making your entire body sing with pleasure.

He thrusts hard and fast, the kitchen table scrapping the floor below as he fucks you like aj animal. His hand comes up to grip the back of your neck, tilting it to expose the flesh to his gaze and he leans down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin above your pulse.

“Ohhhhhh fuck.” You gasp out, shivering in pleasure and submission as you let him take what he wants. “Please.” You whimper. “Use me. Take me.”

Marcus grunts as he thrusts into you, his other hand finding your clit to rub harsh circles every time his hips pull back. It’s too much and not enough all at once. “Fuck. You feel - like a goddamn vice.” He groans as your walls flutter around him.

His voice is lower, raspier and it makes you whimper. All those times you claimed you didn’t care about dominant men going out the window as this man claims you. “Yours.” You promise. “All yours.”

“Mine.” He growls, unable to stop himself and he hisses your name as you clamp down on his cock. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for me sweet girl.” He demands, rubbing your clit a little faster and he bites down on your shoulder.

Shuddering, you can’t help but give him exactly what he wants. Crying out his name again, everything but the feeling of your cunt spasming leaves your thoughts.

Marcus hisses when you clamp down on his cock and soak him, your nails dig into his back but he doesn’t feel a thing. “You’re so - Jesus Christ. Baby. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me. Oh fuck. Fuck!” He yelps as he cums, pushing deep to paint your walls again.

Panting, you kiss his sweaty skin as he rides out his high, lapping at his pulse tenderly and cuddling closer. “Fuck, I love you.” You whisper softly. “So much baby.”

Marcus pants as he comes to a stop, resting his forehead against yours. “Love you too. All of you.” He murmurs, wanting you to know that when he dreads you not feeling the same way about him. He’s terrified about you finding out his secret.

He clings to you for a moment and you smile as you pull away. “Me too, sweetheart. Now” you run your hand down his chest. “I need to get you fed.”

He sighs, pulling out of you, and he knows you’d never accept him, all of him. The darkest parts of him. He kisses your forehead as he steps away from you, bending down to pick up his boxers and pull them on. “I’ll get you something to clean up.”

“Handsome and helpful.” You tease, reaching out and slapping his ass as he turns around to get you a rag. “I’ll fix your plate of bacon.”

Marcus chuckles, making his way into the bathroom. He wets a rag and sees some tissues in the wastepaper basket. He frowns, bending down to pick them up and he gasps when he sees blood. “Shit.” He hisses, trying to figure out how to conceal them. He probably wiped himself off before he got back into bed with you after sunrise. He winces when you call him and he makes his way back into the kitchen.

“Breakfast is served.” You smile as you set the entire pack of bacon that you put on his plate in the spot where you moved his coffee. “Where were you thinking of hiking to?”

“I was thinking of going further up the mountain. There’s a really nice spot that looks out over the valley. I figured we could take a book or two and some drinks. Snacks should be okay. Bear likely won’t venture up that high.” He says, not wanting you to be concerned. “Thanks for the bacon baby.” He says as he hands you the rag.

“That sounds good.” You smile again, thinking that he’s the sweetest as you take the rag to clean up. “After breakfast, we’ll pack up and head off?” You ask, tossing the rag down after you clean up and sit opposite from him as he starts to wolf down the bacon with the same appetite that he had attacked the steaks last night.

Marcus is ravenous, chewing on the bacon like a rabid dog but he’s starving. He always tries to keep his meals to pure meat when he’s here but he suspects you might get suspicious of that if he doesn’t at least have some potatoes.

Watching him, you are slower to eat than he is, seeing a different facet of your normally mild mannered boyfriend. Pouring some syrup over your own pancakes, you cut into them and take a sip of your coffee.

Marcus groans as he finishes the entire plate. “Shit. Baby. I- I didn’t leave you - fuck. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, feeling guilty that he ate the entire plate without you getting even a strip.

“That’s okay.” You wave off his concern and fork up another bite of your pancakes. “I’m happy with the pancakes and my coffee.” You don’t have anymore bacon, but you look towards the fridge. “Are you still hungry? There’s some eggs in there.”

Marcus bites his lip, not wanting to eat all the food that was bought for breakfast this weekend. "I'm fine." He lies, not wanting to take more than he needs, even if the beast inside of him roars for more.

“Are you sure, baby?” You ask, concerned because he is biting his lip guiltily. “I don’t mind cooking some for you. Or, I can make sure that I make you really big roast beef sandwiches for the hike.”

Marcus smiles, “a beef sandwich sounds good. Lots of beef.” He adds, his stomach already rumbling at the thought. God, he needs more food but he doesn’t want to take from you. He’s certain he will eat when he’s outside tonight. “Finish your breakfast honey. I’ll clean up.” He says, kissing your hair as he carries his plate over to the sink.

Marcus is so damn good to you. Happily, you dig into the rest of your pancakes and by the time Marcus is ready to wash your plate, you’re finished. Kissing him as he takes it from you, you move over to the fridge. “I’ll make the sandwiches really quickly and then get dressed.”

“Sounds like a plan sweetheart.” Marcus winks at you as he finishes washing up. “I’ll go shower real quick so you can take your time.” He kisses you softly as he walks by and he makes his way into the bathroom. He glances at the trash can and looks down at his hands, seeing the small scratches that you haven’t noticed yet. He turns on the shower, waiting for the water to get hot before he steps in.

Humming to yourself, you make thick roast beef sandwiches for the both of you. Yours is thinner and you make Marcus three sandwiches to your one. Sure that the hunger that he’s been displaying is going to continue on. You had brought a backpack and you toss the bag of sandwiches in there along with a bag of beef jerky you had as well.

Marcus gets out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and comes into the bedroom just as you approach him. “Hey babe. I left more than enough hot water. Take your time.” He insists, “I’ll get the gear ready.”

“Sandwiches are done.” You promise, smirking at the way his chest is covered in droplets of water. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.” You just want to clean up and then throw on some hiking clothes.

Marcus nods, walking over to his case to grab the clothes he needs for hiking and he dresses while you shower. He knows these woods like the back of his hand and he knows you'll be safe with him. He is tying his boots when you come back into the bedroom.

“I’m so glad we got away this weekend.” You tell him, unwrapping your towel from around you so you can get dressed. “It’s beautiful here and I’m already in love with this place. I see why you try to spend time here every month.”

“Yeah. It’s gorgeous.” Marcus murmurs as he sits up, realizing he’s never really taken the opportunity to admire the area. He’s usually just been happy to have a secluded place to escape to. He picked this cabin because nothing is around it for miles. His eyes trail down your body as you grab your clothes and he bites his lip, cock twitching in his pants as he admires you.

Getting dressed, you lace up your own boots and turn towards him with a smile. “Ready whenever you are, handsome.” You admire the almost rugged look of him since he’s not shaved and turn to grab your backpack and water bottles.

Marcus nods, standing up as he makes his way into the kitchen to grab his backpack that you put the lunch into. “Come on baby.” He says, not bothering to lock the front door since the only dangerous thing out here is him.

Following him, Marcus leads you into the woods and you amble along behind him. Still a little nervous about the claw marks on the door, you don’t let him get more than a few steps in front of you. “Do you hike every time you come up here?” You ask. “Obviously not when it’s snowing, but ohhhh Marcus, I bet it’s gorgeous up here during the winter.”

“Not every time.” He answers your question as he follows a path he regularly takes when he does hike. “Sometimes I like to just relax and get away from the stress of work. If I’m at home, I’ll still check my phone and my emails. I’m totally at peace here. Like it’s where I’m supposed to be.”

“Maybe it is where you should be.” You could imagine it when he’s here. “Living like a mountain man. Chopping wood with your shirt off.” That thought makes you drool. “Too bad you can’t be an FBI agent from here.”

“Exactly.” Marcus sighs, stepping over a log and he turns back to hold his hand out towards you. “Careful.” He says as he helps you over it. He sniffs the air discreetly, checking for any danger. One perk of his composition and it definitely helps him in his job.

It's nice that even out here, he is such a gentleman. You squeeze his hand before letting go so he could continue to guide you deeper into the forest. "It's strange." You frown slightly. "I don't hear any bird or anything, do you?"

"No. It's - maybe there's a storm coming." He says as he looks up and ignores the fact that he knows exactly why the birds aren't singing. They always fly away when he is around, sensing his presence.

"Maybe that's it." You can accept that, although looking up doesn't do much beyond looking at the canopy. "Then we won't make it a long hike, just in case."

"Yeah." Marcus says, looking at the trees for another moment until he looks back at you. "Let's go. You gotta see this view." He offers you a grin and he makes his way through the trail he knows well until you are pushing through the bushes to a clearing.

"Oh Marcus." You gasp as you take in the view of the valley. Nothing but mountains and trees for as far as you can see. No roads that you can see. Really driving home how isolated you are. "This is- this is beautifully remote."

Marcus turns his head to look at you as you admire the view. He is in awe of how beautiful you look in the sunlight and he wishes he could take a picture. “I love you.” He blurts out, tempted to propose to you but he can’t. Not when you don’t know who he truly is. What he truly is.

Looking back at him, you smile. "I love you too, Marcus." He's sweet and his soft smile makes you fall even more in love with him. "Thank you for bringing me up here." You thank him again. "I know this is your fortress of solitude, but I feel like we are getting closer, you letting me in like this."

Marcus nods, stepping closer to you to wrap his arm around your waist. “I love you, baby.” He kisses your hair, “I’m glad I can share this place with you. It’s - it’s where I belong but life keeps bringing me back to D.C.”

“If you want….” You turn to look into his eyes. “I’ll come out here whenever you want to get away.”

Marcus nods, hesitant, but unable to say no as he looks at your beautiful face. He wants to tell you everything but he can’t. He can’t see those eyes that look at him with such love and affection turn into fear and disgust. “Wanna set up the blanket? Hiking has me starving.”

“Sure baby.” You agree quickly, sensing that something is bothering him. You pull out the blanket from your backpack and spread it on the ground. “You know…” you talk as you fuss with it. “Maybe this will become our little ritual.”

“Hopefully.” Marcus offers you a soft smile as he sits down after pulling off his backpack with your water bottles in it. “Maybe we can bring our kids here for family camping weekends.” You say and Marcus bites his lip. He doesn’t know if his condition is hereditary or not. His father passed away when he was a kid so he never knew if he had the same disposition. “Uh, yeah. Maybe.” Marcus clears his throat despite the idea of being a father making his heart swell with desire.

It’s not the response you were hoping for and you’re silent when Marcus pulls out the sandwiches and hands you the one you made for yourself. His are already in his hand. Instead of trying to keep talking, you concentrate on eating, looking out at the view.

Marcus almost feels too anxious to eat. Almost. The beast inside of him growls for more so he quickly demolishes the sandwich, moving onto the next one. “Damn. These are good, sweetheart.” He says, wanting to lighten the mood when he can sense you are upset.

“Thanks.” You don’t smile at him, finishing up your own sandwich and wiping your hands on your leggings. Maybe you were wrong about what Marcus wants and now you feel like you’re intruding on his space.

Marcus can sense that there’s something wrong. The change in the air is palpable and he hates that he can’t just tell you what he is, what he wants, how he feels. He sighs and crumbles up the bag after he finishes the last sandwich. “You wanna stay here or make our way back? I don’t wanna get caught in the storm.”

“That works for me.” You agree, biting your lip and wanting to ask Marcus if he feels like you’ve bulldozed your way into coming up here and butting into his personal time. “I think I’ll just read this afternoon if you want to nap. You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

Marcus is tempted to nap. That's usually what he does most of the day when he's here alone after a nonstop night. "It's so nice up here. We can come back up here another day." He says and stands up, brushing himself down and he holds his hand out towards you to help you up from the blanket.

There’s some comfort in his comment and you gladly take his hand. “Then it’s settled. I’ll read and get dinner ready, you nap.” You smile at the domesticity. “Any requests?” You had gotten a roast to put in the little oven but maybe he wasn’t feeling it.

“Anything meaty.” He chuckles as he packs up the blanket and the water bottles. “I’m lucky to have you, baby.” He says as you start to make your way back down the mountain.

“I’m glad you think so.” You admit quietly. “I was afraid I was being too pushy, asking to come up here. Intruding into your private time. I know we’re in a relationship, but I think you’re a man who likes to keep some secrets.”

Marcus tries to not react to how quickly you see right through him. He is terrified that you’ll find out the truth and run screaming away from him. “I’m a pretty open book mostly.” He chuckles, trying not to sound awkward, but failing as his stomach twists with anxiety.

“It’s okay to have secrets.” You promise him, shooting him a grin. “As long as it’s not a secret girlfriend or wife. Anything else, you tell me when you’re ready. I love you and accept you for who you are.”

Marcus closes his eyes and wishes that could be true. He knows you would never accept him if you knew he was a monster. “No secret, girlfriend, or wife.” He promises, with a chuckle. “Even I am not that good at keeping a secret like that. And you know how much of a commitment freak I am. Once I’m in, I’m all in. I don’t like cheaters.”

“I know.” You promise softly. “I don’t like cheaters either. That’s why we work so well together.” You wish you could reach out and take his hand, but that would be dangerous while on the trail. “I’m all in too. I hope you know that.”

Marcus offers you a soft smile and he walks ahead of you to help guide you through the trail. It doesn’t take long until you are in the cabin again, Marcus sitting down to take off his boots. “You want some coffee or water, babe?” He asks, wanting to look after you, reassure you that he wants to be there for you.

“Some coffee would be great.” You admit with a smile. “But don’t feel like you need to entertain me. I’ll get it.” You wave him away. “Go nap, you look tired, baby.”

Marcus is hesitant but he’s exhausted. He nods as he makes his way through to the bedroom, stripping off and groaning when he slides under the covers in the bed. He needs to rest before tonight. He’s learned that if he doesn’t nap, he’s especially ferocious when he turns. He falls asleep, unaware that you’ve headed out to the porch and he left the duffel bag on the porch.

You don’t want to move around too much, so you slip outside with your coffee and a book after getting the roast put in the oven. Sitting down and starting to read when you notice a bag off to the side. “Shit. I hope Marcus didn’t leave food in it.” You groan, hoping that it wouldn’t attract that bear. Setting your book down you move to pick it up, surprised when it’s really heavy. “What the hell?” You frown and unzip the bag, gasping when you see the heavy duty chains that are in the bag. Worried about why Marcus would have these.

Marcus is asleep, blissfully unaware of you finding the chains until he wakes up and comes into the kitchen. He sees your face and the bag on the floor and he tries to not react. “Sorry I slept so long.” He says, scratching the back of his neck as he prays you don’t ask about the chains.

You have a thousand different questions but can see that he’s not going to answer you. Or he will just lie to you. The fear in his eyes makes you wonder what the hell is going on. “That’s okay, babe.” You murmur softly, getting up and moving over to kiss him. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Marcus can tell that you’re suspicious but he’s relieved that you carried on without bringing attention to it. He sits down at the table, watching you as you work around the kitchen to finish dinner. “You’re too good to me, baby.”

"Well....I love you." You have to admit that you've wondered if Marcus has something horrible planned for you, but it doesn't even seem to be in his nature. That doesn't mean you aren't going to pretend to be asleep tonight to see what he does. Not wanting to make him suspicious, but not fully trusting that something isn't going on. Why would he have such heavy chains? Unless he locks the cabin up with them, but you doubt it. You hadn't seen them when you arrived.

Marcus looks at you, “I love you too.” He says softly, wanting you to know that he does really love you. Especially when you cast a blind eye to the bag. He watches you as you cook and he decides to open the bottle of wine he brought with him. “Want a glass?” He asks as he holds the bottle up after getting it from the cupboard.

“Sure.” You smile at him as he holds up the bottle and you have no intention of drinking any of it. Wanting to keep yourself clear headed, but you also don’t want to make him suspicious. “It will go wonderfully with the roast.”

Marcus nods, grabbing some glasses to pour out a decent amount after he uncorks the bottle and he sets the glass down. Marcus smiles at you, grabbing the plates as you pull the roast out of the oven that just barely works. He should’ve replaced it but when he’s alone, he hasn’t bothered.

Once the table is set, you slice the roast up, making sure that you just put meat on Marcus’s plate. He seems to be craving a carnivore diet and you sit down opposite his chair. “Sit down, let’s eat, baby.”

Marcus can’t help himself. He digs in before you manage to sit down with your own plate. He groans as he practically inhales the meat. “Jesus, this is amazing.” He groans as he takes a break.

You hum softly, having taken a lot less meat and filled your plate with veggies. “Want the rest of the meat babe? I made sure there’s plenty.”

Marcus finishes the plate in record time. Pushing it away once he’s done and he wipes his mouth. “Thank you babe. It was delicious.” He picks up the glass of wine, noticing that you haven’t touched yours. “You don’t like the wine?”

"No, it's -" you shake your head. "I'm sorry, my stomach is a little off kilter." You shoot him an apologetic look. "I don't think I should risk it, you know?" It's a plausible excuse for not drinking and it shouldn't make him suspicious.

Marcus nods, never one to force anyone to drink. He respects your decision so he stands up to grab you a bottle of water. “Here you go, baby.” He says and sets it down. You thank him and he sits back down while you finish eating. “I was thinking we could make some s’mores after this.”

"That would be good." You agree, knowing you would be happier if you had none of the suspicions, but it's alright. You'll build a fire and roast some marshmallows before claiming you need to sleep. To see what will happen when you are vulnerable.

**** 

You’ve been quiet. Marcus has noticed it and he is a little concerned. You had sat there and watched while he started the fire, only saying a few words while you cooked the marshmallows. “Are you okay, baby? You feel sick still?” Marcus asks once you’re back inside and getting ready for bed.

"I think I'm just going to pass out." You admit with a sheepish grin. One that you hope is believable. "I'm sorry that I'm putting a damper on the rest of night."

Marcus shakes his head as he sits down on the bed. “Don’t be silly, baby. It’s okay. I know you’ve not felt great. Best to get some rest.” He says as he pulls his shirt over his head. He’s gonna get into bed with you and then he’ll sneak out.

You finish getting ready for bed, trying to downplay your nervousness and you sigh softly when Marcus curls around you. "Goodnight, sweetheart." You whisper softly, hoping that he will believe that you fall asleep quickly so you can figure out what he is doing with those chains.

Marcus kisses your neck, “goodnight.” He breathes you in, sensing when you fall asleep in his arms. He gently shifts away from you, getting out of bed. He doesn’t bother redressing as he makes his way out of the cabin after picking up the duffel bag.

When Marcus had slipped from the bed, you had barely managed to keep from reacting. Tensing when you hear the slight clanking of the chains in the bag but you don't get up. You don't even open your eyes. Hearing him open the door and only then do you sit up. Wondering why he is going outside when there is a large, dangerous creature out there.

Marcus works fast to lock you in the cabin. He doesn't want the beast to try and get in, to try and hurt you. He can feel how high the moon is in the sky. He doesn't have long. He exhales shakily, locking the padlock in place just as he feels his spine start to dislocate. He howls, unable to stop himself as the transformation begins.

You shiver, hearing the howl so close to the house and fear trickles down your spine. Biting your lip and frowning. Marcus is out there and when you walk into the living room, you see the case with his gun locked inside still there. Moving to the door, you push the door open but it doesn't budge. "Marcus!"

Marcus is no longer outside. In his place is the beast he tries to contain. This cabin has been his sanctuary, the place he allows the beast to roam free to satisfy his primal urges. It helps him maintain control and right now, Marcus is not in control. He roars and arches his back as he fully transforms into the werewolf he was cursed to be from his father.

You hear monstrous sounds outside and your blood runs cold. Something is out there and your boyfriend can't protect himself. "Marcus!" You scream, shoving against the door again and again without it budging. Frantic, you turn to the shuttered windows beside the door and quickly unlatch one, opening it up and unlocking the window. You can't let him be out there alone. It's your fault. You were worried about the bear and he's locked you into the cabin, putting himself in danger.

Marcus growls, hearing a click and he doesn't have the recognition to know that you are calling his name. He wouldn't respond anyway. He's no longer the Marcus you know. He roars again, running into the clearing in front of the cabin.

Once you are on the porch, you realize exactly how bad of an idea this is. The howling of an animal makes you jump. Unable to move when a creature, a monstrous beast, breaks into the clearing. Seven feet tall when it stands on his hind legs. It looks like something out of a horror movie. A werewolf.

The wolf sniffs, turning his head towards you, and he moves fast to come over to you. Your scream echoes in the clearing and the beast slows down, slowly approaching you. You’re frozen in place, wheezing as you try to breathe but can’t. He comes closer until you can see the eyes.

You would have said that werewolves didn't exist. They were myth and legend. Designed to scare. However, you can't deny the large wolf-like creature in front of you. Larger than any wolf you've ever seen in real life and oddly humanoid in the way it can walk on its back legs. When you see the eyes, you gasp. You know those eyes. You've looked into them. Suddenly, the isolated cabin in the mountains and trips by himself make sense. "M-Marcus?"

He sniffs, innately recognizing you, and he leans closer to sniff you. His eyes widen and he whimpers, lowering his head towards you. Deep inside, Marcus is still there and he’s begging himself to keep you safe, to not scare you. He’s terrified you’re going to get in the car and run away. He wouldn’t blame you but he prays you don’t run.

"Holy shit." Your hand claps over your mouth as you stare at the creature that is apparently....your boyfriend. As if you are drawn to him, you take a step closer. The idea of diving back into the cabin disappearing as you try to rationalize this. "Oh my god.....you're a were-werewolf."

Marcus whimpers again. He loves you. He nudges his nose towards you as he bends over, the beast in him recognizing you as the woman he loves. You raise your hand, it’s shaking, and Marcus nudges his nose against your palm. “Oh my god.” You choke out, your fingers tangling into his fur and you shiver as you pet the wolf that your boyfriend had turned into. “How is this- oh my god.” You gasp in awe.

He can’t believe you’re accepting the beast inside of him. The moon is high in the sky and he whimpers softly once more, licking your hand as you turn your palm over.

“I have so many questions.” You murmur, laughing to yourself. “But you can’t answer them right now. No wonder you’ve been craving meat. I can’t believe this.”

Marcus knows he has a lot to answer but for now, he needs to let the beast roam free. He nudges your palm again before he steps back, standing at his full height, he roars out a warning for anything nearby before he steps back and runs off. He disappears through the trees, needing to run off his energy before sunrise.

“Oh my god.” You sink down onto the porch steps, nearly shaking with the knowledge that Marcus is a mythical creature. “I’ve been fucking a werewolf.” You huff out, surprised that the idea of that doesn’t horrify you like it should. You’ve seen the cheesy pornos that disguise themselves as werewolf movies. The beast taking the helpless woman under the moonlight. The thought of it is oddly erotic and you shake your head, even as you stand up to peel off your clothes.

Marcus runs for a minute until he circles back to the cabin. He enters the clearing to find you standing there, naked. His growls echoes through the forest and he approaches you slowly, confused about what you want.

You swallow nervously, wondering if this is such a good idea. Not sure how much of Marcus is conscious inside the werewolf. Or if it’s just pure animal instinct. “Hey baby.” You coo softly, calling him to you.

Marcus sniffs, smelling the arousal on your body and he is certain that you want him but he’s terrified he’s reading you wrong. He slowly approaches you until he’s close enough to touch you. His tongue comes out to lick along your neck as he bends over you.

“Oh fuck.” You gasp, unused to how rough his tongue is as it laps against your skin. Its warm and wet, making you shiver as the wind blows and cools your skin down. “I- if there’s something you want, I want it too.” You murmur quietly. “I don’t know- are you, do you - have you ever….” You trail off, embarrassed and unsure if he even understands you. “Have you ever fucked someone when you’re in this state?”

Marcus shakes his head, an intrigued whine escaping his mouth as he nuzzles your skin. He whimpers, licking you again but lower, his tongue flicking over your nipple.

“Ohhhhhh.” You moan at the contact and your fingers slide though his fur again, Rubbing his muzzle.affectionately. “I don’t know if you understand, but I love you.”

​​Marcus does understand, deep down, and he loves you more than anything. Especially when you are accepting him. He slides his tongue along your skin, tasting the salt and sweat and you are delicious but not in an edible way. He can’t get enough of you as he licks and licks at you, flicking his tongue over your nipple.

“Marcus.” You moan again, letting him lick at your skin, feeling yourself getting wetter by the moment. You will let him do whatever he wants, understanding that he’s the dominant one in this encounter. “I want all of you. Even when you are like this.”

Marcus knows he has to be gentle, he’s never been with anyone in this state. Isolating himself. He’s not even sure if he can but he wants to make you feel good. He shifts to kneel down, his tongue sliding along your leg until his muzzle is pressed between your thighs.

“Ohhhhh.” Human Marcus is a very generous lover, never hesitating to go down on you and make you cum. Actually enjoying it rather than just doing it because he feels like he has to like some of the men you had dated. You don’t know why you are surprised that wolf Marcus is nuzzling at your cunt to spread your legs wide for his tongue

When your tangy arousal hits his tongue, he groans deep in his throat and his tongue slides deeper. His werewolf tongue is longer so he pushes deep inside of you, curling deep until his muzzle is pressed against your folds. He is unable to believe you trust him enough to do this. That you love him enough to do this.

“Fuck!” You Yelp when his tongue pushes deep and your fingers grip his hair tight. “It’s so- fuck your tongue is so long like this.” You whine, rolling your hips down onto his muzzle even more, begging for him to continue. “You don’t have to.” You add, knowing that you don’t need to force him to do something he doesn’t want because you’re curious.

Marcus - the beast - wants you to cum. His clawed hands grab your hips, rocking you on top of his muzzle as his wet nose presses against your flesh, his tongue curling deep until he growls, wanting to feel you fall apart above him.

It doesn’t take long with that tongue curled up and reaching every inch inside your cunt. Your cry hoarse as you start to shake and tremble, holding onto the large creature while your legs nearly give out.

Marcus growls as you cum, lapping up every drop like the hungry beast he is. His claws dig into your flesh a little and he laps at you until you’re pushing on his muzzle. He doesn’t know what you want next but his cock is hard. Not like his human cock, this one is bigger, hanging hard between his hairy legs.

​​“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen slightly when you see his hard cock sticking up when the creature rocks back. “That’s….impressive.” You’re dripping wet from your orgasm and his tongue and you cunt clenches at the thought of taking this monster inside you. “On my hands and knees.” You mutter to yourself as you kneel down on the ground in front of him. “Unless you want my mouth on you?”

Marcus growls, shaking his head, and he snorts, not wanting you to put your mouth on him when he’s in this state. He kneels, his claws digging into the dirt as he shuffles behind you, his large cock pressing against the back of your thigh.

“Oh fuck.” You have a feeling you will be saying that a lot. Still, you push back against the wall of fur encouragingly. “Take me.” You whimper. “I’m yours.”

Marcus doesn’t hesitate, sensing how much you want him, he can smell it on you. He growls and leans close, his cock nudging your ass a few times until he’s able to notch it at your entrance. Animal instincts take over as he pushes deep without giving you a moment, his roar echoing through the trees.

Your choked cry is nearly silent, unable to breathe as the wolf fills you beyond anything you’ve ever had before. Feeling like he’s pushed up into your throat. It hurts and feels amazing all at the same time until you feel like you’re going to pass out.

Marcus hisses, the tight cunt around his cock is wet and hot and it drives him deeper into the animal inside of him. His claws dig into the ground as he braces himself so he can thrust even harder into you. He growls, teeth flashing under the light of the full moon when he sets a harsh pace.

You’re being fucked by a werewolf. At least the movies have the animalistic pace right, the wolf slamming his cock into you so harshly it’s pushing you up along the ground. Scrapping your hands and knees. Still, you don’t cry out for him to stop. Loving the roughness of the animal.

He is rough, unrelenting as he thrusts deep and hard. Marcus would’ve slowed down, sensing your discomfort but the wolf only wants to hear you cum, wants to cum himself. His fur presses against your ass with each thrust, growls escaping his muzzle as he leans down to press his nose to your back, inhaling your scent.

You feel the hot breath of the wolf on your neck. Making you gasp as you rock forward again. Your fingers digging into the dirt as he takes what he wants, filling your cunt again and again. At least his cock isn’t covered in hair, you don’t know if you would have done that. “Ma-Marcus!” You Yelp when he hits something deep inside you.

Hearing his name spurs him on. Hitting that spot again and again, it’s feral and beyond comprehension. Marcus has given way to the beast inside of him and he wants you to cum. His teeth scrap over your neck, his hot breath puffing over you as he thrusts again and again.

“Ohhh, oh fuuuuuuuuck.” Feeling his teeth in your neck sends you over the edge. The danger makes your entire body burst in pleasure as your pussy tries to clamp down on the beast’s cock. Feeling him drill into you as you gush around him and soak him in your cum.

Marcus growls into your skin, almost a roar that echoes into the forest as he keeps fucking into you. His cock twitching as he gets closer to his own orgasm. Grunts escape along with snarls until he finally pushes deep. His roar reverberates as his cock pulses while he fills you with his cum.

You almost black out with pleasure. Collapsing into the dirt and unable to move as his thick cum pushes out of you with every rock of the beast’s hips. “Fuck”

Marcus pumps himself through his orgasm and he hisses when you slump down into the dirt and he licks along your neck, tasting your sweat. He whimpers, lost in the haze of pleasure as he laps at your skin.

“‘m good.” You slur out against the ground. “I-god.” You can’t help but start to breathlessly chuckle, unable to believe that this happened. You can feel it, you’ll feel him for days. “Love you.” You murmur, hoping Marcus can understand that in his current state.

Marcus whines softly, able to let you know the beast feels the same, and he slowly pulls out of you. The beast takes full control again as he sniffs you, a pleased whine escaping his lips as he smells you covered in his scent. He stands up on his hind legs, a howl echoing in the valley before he runs for the tree line, the beast taking over.

It takes you some time to be able to move again, literally crawling over to the steps before you can get off the ground and you wonder if it will be morning before Marcus changes back to his human form. You climb back in the window, sure that you will need a long soak in the bath after this.

Marcus runs around until he feels the sun starting to rise and his beast gives up control to allow him to transition back to his human form. He ends up unlocking the house and comes inside to find you asleep, no doubt worn out from the rough treatment. He showers and slides under the covers, curling around you.

You hum softly, stirring when you feel the warmth at your back. “Marcus?” You ask, hearing him hum. 

“Go to sleep, baby.” You know he’s tired after running around all night, so you snuggle back into his embrace and close your eyes again.

Marcus is snoring as he lays on his back, your head on his chest as you sleep until his snort wakes you up. You kiss his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he rests after an active night.

He doesn’t look any different than he normally does, just as handsome as you’ve always found him but you feel like you are closer. You know his secret and you lean forward and kiss his chest gently. “Man or wolf, I want to be with you.” You whisper.

He wakes up to you cooking. The smell makes his stomach grumble as he sniffs the air. Last night hits him, memories of you taking him as the wolf make his heart pound and he is desperate to talk to you but he also wants to run away in case you regret it. Deciding to face it, he gets out of bed and pees, brushing his teeth before he makes his way into the kitchen.

“Morning.” You smile as you look up to find Marcus creeping into the kitchen. “Breakfast is almost ready but the coffee is made.” He’s got a strange look on his face, so you don’t make a joke about moving a little slow because of last night. That seems like it might spook him. “I made steak and eggs. I don’t know if you still need a lot of meat.”

“I, uh, will probably have one more day. The moon cycle…I only need meat when it’s a full moon.” He reveals, “and I’m starving.” He chuckles softly, shifting to sit down as you watch him. “I- about last night….” He trails off, terrified that you’re going to hate him.

“I found out why you come up to the cabin alone.” You fill in, biting your lip and swallowing slightly. “I didn’t- you don’t think I’m crazy, do you? After- well, because of stripping down and basically begging a werewolf to fuck me?”

Marcus stares at you. “You think you’re crazy? After you- baby, I’m a fucking werewolf.” He chokes, “and you - you didn’t run or try to shoot me. You’re not crazy. I am. Because - because I cannot believe you trusted me. You didn’t run away. You accepted me.” His eyes sting with unshed tears, “you loved me when I was - I am a monster.”

“You aren’t a monster.” You frown, setting down the spatula and moving the pan off the stove so you can move over to Marcus. “You are an amazing man. I have questions, of course I do, but the fact that you are a werewolf doesn’t change who you are every time the moon isn’t full.”

Marcus sniffs, tears sliding down his cheeks and he shakes his head. “I- my father - he was the same. It’s only during the full moon. It’s why I come here to allow the beast to be free. If he’s free during this time, I get control the rest of the time.” He explains croakily.

Reaching out, you wipe the tears away and move so you can sit in his lap. Your pussy is sore but you ignore it to wrap your arms around his neck. “So….does that mean that our kids would be like you?” You ask curiously.

“I don’t know. That’s why- it’s why I’ve been so hesitant to take the next step with you. To be all in when you discuss kids. I- I don’t know if they’d be like me. If it’s just on the male side or if a daughter would be the same. I didn’t - I know you wouldn’t want to take that risk.” Marcus chokes, burying his face in your neck.

The man who turns into a beast, one that could kill you, kill anyone, is crying into your neck as you rub his back. “Baby….I love you. I know that you would protect our kids if they did turn.”

Marcus pulls back to look at you, his lower lip trembling. “You- you don’t want to run for the hills?” He asks and when you shake your head, he reaches up to cup your cheeks. “I love you. More than anything in the world. If you want to be mine. I’ll marry you next week. I want to have babies with you. I’m all in.” He promises, nudging his nose against yours.

“I’m all in too.” You promise softly. Marcus might be a werewolf, people may tell you that you’re crazy, but you’d rather howl at the moon with him than risk losing him. “Let’s eat breakfast and then we can spend the day in bed and you can tell me about all of this while my poor little pussy recovers so the wolf can have me again tonight.”

Marcus kisses your cheek softly, “you don’t have to. I can lock you in. He won’t get to you. I won’t get to you.” He promises, wanting to make sure that you’re safe. “You don’t have to do that again if you don’t want to.”

​​You squirm slightly, biting your lip. “I liked it.” You admit quietly, sure that he will think you’re crazy. “It was….feral. I loved how possessive you were last night.”

His cock twitches beneath you, unable to hide the fact that he likes that you liked it. “I was not in control. The beast…he wanted to claim you. He wanted to mark you as his.” Marcus confesses, “I wanted to make sure you were mine.” He admits the more feral side of him.

“I’m yours.” You promise, kissing his lips and grinning at him. “Whenever the beast wants me, he can have me. Whenever you want me with you when you change, I’ll be here.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before we came out here. I just - I didn’t want to lose you. I love you baby. I love you. I want to be yours and be with you. If you’ll have me.” He says softly, kissing your hair.

“Of course I will.” You giggle quietly and turn his head to press your lips against his. “You, me and the moon make three.” You tease. “I love you and your alter ego.”

Marcus chuckles at your teasing and he nudges his nose against yours. “I love you, baby. So much. I want to spend the rest of our lives together. Have a family together. You’re everything to me…to us. I love you.” Marcus murmurs, kissing you softly again. He never imagined he’d find a woman who could ever love the monster inside of him but he found you. The woman he loves who accepts all of him, even the wolf. He couldn’t ask for more.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Sun, sand and Graves

Phillip Graves x Fem!reader!

Summary : due to unexpected circumstances, you find yourself trapped in a sunny paradise with your colleague and begin to learn what he’s like outside of work.

Word count : 1.7k

A/N : Hey everybody! If this gets enough attention then I plan to make a part 2! Yearning part 3 will also begin to be made soon. I just wanna say I’m sorry for being so busy 😭 I hope this will help me get back into my writing schedule. All I can say now is I hope you enjoy the fic!

Never in a million years could you have thought of this scenario. You couldn’t picture you and your superior, Phillip Graves, curled up underneath an umbrella as you tried to find the most comfortable dips in the sand to rest each limb.

Never.

Although, it wasn't like you wanted to be here. Sure, the breeze blew gently onto your skin as the waves rolled up and down the shoreline lazily and it was definitely the most relaxing moment of your life.

Yet you couldn’t settle completely knowing why you were stuck in this sunny paradise.

"They what?", you remember looking up from the folder handed to you to meet his eyes .

To your surprise, they were glistening with ambition.

"Think of it as a happy little accident, doll.", he smiled, now taking it back from your hands and tossing it aside as he was clearly dealing with more important issues.

“We've got a couple of days to spend here, so why not make the most of it?"

"That is so unprofessional."

You couldn’t help it, after so many years of training and constant work you’d become a stickler to your usual schedule. You would’ve thought Graves would be the same.

"Well, you won't be telling Shepherd or those others now, will you?", Graves lowered his voice, leaning in slightly.

"I don't think you're giving me a choice here." you rolled your eyes playfully, turning on your heel to exit the safe house and find anything that was suitable for the weather.

-

Looking out onto the water from your towel, it was therapeutic.

Until you heard him shuffling in his spot right next to you.

"... Do you mind?"

"Not at all.", he let out a chuckle, looking up at you through his aviators.

Graves was only wearing shorts, propping himself up on his elbows to 'catch a tan' as he called it.

It felt unprofessional, but it didn't stop you from stealing glances at him every now and then.

"So... You go to the beach often?"

You turned to look at him, raising a brow at his sudden urge to talk to you after working under him for years.

"Yeah.. Every summer when I'm off of work."

"Nice, nice.. You go with friends or family?"

"Uhm.. Both? Not at the same time-"

You paused.

"Are you bored? Is that why you’re interrogating me?”

"What? Now why would you say that?”, he now sat up, staring at you with a pointed look.

"Why don't you go flirt with the locals? I'm busy.", you urged, fighting the temptation to shove him onto his feet and away from your solace.

"Because we should stay together."

You cocked a brow at his behaviour, "I'm sure you won't get lost in the crowd, it's not like I'm going anywhere.”

"Well then I'm not going anywhere either.", he announced indignantly.

"You're not really acting like my superior right now."

Laying back down onto your towel, you crossed your arms over your waist and tried to day dream. Anything that didn’t involve the man in front of you.

"I have a life when I'm not your superior, you know.", he was looking down at you from his awkward, sudden crouch.

A large grin was plastered on his face.

“Look, why don't we just get a drink? Cool down, relax and enjoy our time."

“Fine.”

You got up and sighed at your situation.

You never thought you would be standing on the beach, dressed in a bikini about to order possibly alcoholic beverages with your commander.

After slipping off the robe you'd been wearing, the breeze hit your stomach and upper thighs gently and you relaxed at the cool sensation.

"You done daydreaming over there?", he tilted his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

You groaned, holding onto your sunhat as the breeze attempted to blow if off of your head while you hurried along to catch up to his confident strides.

Graves stopped by the bar, leaning across the table and waiting with a smile for the bartender. Once they approached, he cleared his throat.

"Right.. Err, you speak English?", he clocked a brow at the bartender who nodded, clearly unimpressed.

"Can I get two of whatevers strongest?"

"Phillip?", you put a hand on his shoulder, making him suddenly turn and look up at you.

"Hm?"

He didn’t seem phased from your touch which was odd. The two of you didn’t interact like this very often.

"I'll just have a beer and I think you should too."

He sighed, looking back at the bartender still drying a glass.

"Can I just get two beers, please? Thanks."

"You see? Let's have something normal before we start seeing stars or something.", you laughed and took your bottle of beer.

“Sure- thank you!” He called to the bartender as he slid over some cash and walked beside you.

“I can’t wait to get this over with.”

“Why? This is a one in a lifetime opportunity.”

“It’s.. weird.”

You shrugged, sitting back down onto your towel and taking swigs of your beer every now and then.

He lowered himself down beside you, squatting as he looked around like a child in a candy store.

This must be paradise for him. Sun, sea and beautiful women everywhere you turned. Men are so typical.

“You’ll get over the feeling soon. Believe me, I’ve only had this happen once before and it wasn’t even that close to this.”

The two of you sat for awhile, making idle conversation in bits and pieces that were initiated by him. You were too busy listening to the waves crash against the nearby rocks. Graves took the hint and left you alone.

-

The door clicked shut and you both seemed to loosen up as you entered the safe house. It had been such a calm day that your senses were heightened; you were still tense and cautious deep down.

“Fun day, hm?” He smiled at you, instantly pulling off the vest he’d lazily put on before leaving the beach.

He walked over to his bed, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his toned back.

You didn’t want your eyes to travel. This wasn’t a holiday or some sort of fantasy.

They still managed to scan his broad shoulders and structured muscles, savouring every scar or imperfection scattered across his skin.

“I’m going to have a shower.” You blurted out, hastily making your escape before you started to examine the waistband of his shorts.

You shut the door behind you, locking it and turning the water on. It was loud and a good enough distraction for at least a second until you were getting flashes of the slight scar that traced his waist bone and curved around to his back.

It had only been a day and you were becoming an animal.

What was going on?

Stripping down quickly, you almost jumped into the welcoming stream of water. It felt good to wash all of the sand and sweat off.

Your hands trailed over your body, which prompted you to think about Graves. You hand on his shoulder.

He was firm, possessing a sense of solidity which made sense as your commander.

But as a man, it just made you feel weak in the knees.

You wondered how his hands felt. Maybe they were rough, calloused from work. Maybe they were cold; his fingertips spreading shivers across your skin as they tried to figure out any sensitive spots.

As you scrubbed gently over your skin, a sudden knock sent your arms crossed over your chest.

“What?!”, you called, a little angry for the interruption.

“How long? I need to shower too, you know.”

“When I’m finished!”

You huffed to yourself, now massaging soap into your hair. You really were losing it.

He still didn’t have the right to interrupt you though, it was getting good.

Sighing, you continued developing this daydream while you washed your hair.

You sometimes saw him ruffle some of his shadows’ hair in a show of appreciation. It was cute.

Now, you tried to envision his hands knotting through your hair. Fingers tangling around strands which sent shoots of pain to your scalp. Pain mixed with pleasure.

You rinsed your hair out, movement becoming much more sharper. You stopped when some small strands were pulled out and you shook them off, stopping the shower.

It was your warning to yourself to keep these thoughts private. Possibly just keep them as daydreams in the shower to stop you from feeling lonely. Sometimes work was tough, you deserved the break.

Even if that meant imagining getting intimate with your colleague.

It’s fine, it’s not like he’d ever find out.

As you wrapped as towel around your body, you unlocked the door to find him standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re awfully impatient.” You commented, smirking a little at his glare.

“Sure, but I know you’d do the same.” He grinned back, poking your chest and immediately darting into the bathroom. The door clicked shut and you were left alone.

Did he just… poke you?

A tentative hand brushed over the spot that had just been touched.

It’s nothing. He probably didn’t think before acting.

You turn away and begin to put on some pajamas for the night. Soft and skimpy - a pair of thin, cotton shorts and a vest which hung loosely on your figure.

It was now the late afternoon.

Graves had finished his shower and you wanted to glue your face to your palms to prevent your eyes from gazing at his hips or happy trail. It was blonde.

You only knew that because his hair was blonde. Nothing more.

“You don’t fancy going out tonight?”

Your brows furrowed. That was out of line.

“I’m getting rest. Something that is rare when working for the Shadow corporation.”

You rolled on your side and now shuffled in your bed, trying to get comfortable.

“Hit a nerve there…” he sighed, sitting opposite you on his bed before continuing.

“Well, you can’t be tired already.”

“Maybe I am.”

“Alright, alright… I’ll leave you be.”, Graves pulled himself up, walking over to the little desk situated in the room. He fell back into the chair and whistled.

He was bored and you knew it.

You shot up from your bed, glaring at him.

He won this time.

“Fine! We can go out. Let me get changed…” you muttered, snatching your clothes and retreating to the bathroom after your bitter defeat.

He may or may not have whistled a celebratory tune as you passed by.