#if you're going to let little old me get under your skin that much then i might as well make myself at home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javiscigarette · 5 months

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Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

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Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse. "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement.

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise.

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout.

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls. scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper.

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat.

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs.

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache.

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality.

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air.

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh.

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile.

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.”

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

“I don’t- oh…”

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins.

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?”

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it.

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil.

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface.

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet.

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea.

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya”

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass.

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.”

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex.

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey.

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake.

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls.

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.”

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense.

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.”

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch.

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins.

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?”

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree.

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze.

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!”

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so.

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back.

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows.

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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strangerstilinski · 4 months

Text

a little bit of Older!Eddie thirst on this monday night. 🥵

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+

“-and anyway, all I’m saying is, you’re gonna get a lot more years outta your car if you bring it in to get an oil change every six months or so-”

It’s not that you don’t care about what he has to say, your lack of focus on his advice has entirely more to do with the way his thick fingers are curled around the pint of beer in front of him. The metal wrapped around the base several of his fingers clink softly every time the older man nervously drums them against the glass. All you can think about is those fingers in your hair, gripping the fat of your ass or your hips, stretching out your cunt in preparation for his cock.

Your stomach flips a little at the sight of his fingernails. Scrubbed clean of any of the oil or grime that had been wedged into his nail-beds when you’d first met a week ago at the auto body shop, the little patch sewn into his coveralls had blessed you with the name that you finally utter now.

“Eddie?” You interrupt sweetly, glossed lips pursing when his eyes snap to yours.

“Shit. Am I talking too much? I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” He rambles in distress, bringing ringed fingers up to scratch at the coarse stubble lining his jaw. “It’s just- When you asked me to get a drink, at first I kinda thought you were just angling for a discount on repairs, y’know? I mean, pretty thing like you? Actually wanting go out with this old mess? It seemed ridiculous, but- Well, now we’re here and you’ve already paid off the invoice for your car and I’m a little-”

“Eddie.”

His words cut off with a quiet clack as his teeth snap together, eyes searching your own in the dimly lit bar.

“I want you,” Your hand meets where his is wrapped around the sweaty pint glass, fingers hooking underneath his own as you guide your laced hands to rest on the sticky tabletop, “I.. really want you.” You repeat with a bit more emphasis, the words a little softer with vulnerability this time, a little more desperate.

“What, like-? Like right now?” Eddie is already looking around the bar with wide eyes before his gaze flicks back to you, question swimming in their brown depths, “Here?” He murmurs in quiet disbelief.

You give him a coy smile, long lashes blinking at him longingly, “Here.”

Eddie rises to his feet a bit clumsily, like perhaps his body was trying to respond to your words before his brain, “Shit. Fuck. Okay, sweetheart. If you’re sure, I mean. Uh, we.. We could.. Um-”

You're far too worked up to find his racing thoughts as endearing as you think that you normally would, “Eddie-”

He’s dragging you up from the other side of the booth in a flash, large hands falling to your waist as he begins to guide you through the desolate Tuesday night bar crowd with his chest pressed warmly to your spine.

“Just come with me, baby,” Eddie trips over a his own feet in his heavy boots and nearly takes you down with him, narrowly managing to keep his feet underneath himself as he tries to keep you from stumbling, “Shit, sorry-” He grumbles into your ear from behind, the huskiness of his voice and the warmth of his breath prompting a pleasant shiver up your spine.

Once the two of you have stumbled your way down the dark hallway at the back, you spin around to let your arms snake around his waist from behind. Eddie is fumbling with the sticky knob of the bathroom door, the hairs at the base of his tummy soft under your fingers and you can't help but dip your hand beneath his waistband where the hair spreads further.

“Shit-” Eddie fumbles with the door when your fingertips just graze the base of his cock, the skin silky smooth under your palm as you push a little further so you can wrap your small hand around him, “Oh, you're a f-fucking.. menace, aren’t you? N-not so sweet after all.” He tells you, not an ounce of bite to his words, more of a groan of approval than anything.

Your only response is to press your lips to the side of his throat beneath his wild mane of curls, snapping a small nip of your teeth against the curve of his shoulder as you work your hand torturously slow on his cock.

Distracted by your touch, Eddie swings the door open with with a bit too much enthusiasm. He dives forward to catch it before it can collide with the dirty porcelain sink on the inside wall and only narrowly gets a hold of it in time.

As soon as the door is secured behind you again, you're dropping to your knees in front of him. Your mouth finds the soft pudge of his tummy, and metal and leather clink and slap beneath your quick hands as you work his belt and get his jeans open enough to tug out his cock. It springs up as it's released, half hard already and bobbing in front of you like it's taunting you for just how badly you want him. His cock is gorgeous — average length but thick and beautifully curved just a bit to the right.

You hungrily eye the tip where he's flushed dark pink, shiny and dribbling just the tiniest bit already, shining in the hazy light coming from the exposed lightbulb in the ceiling.

Eddie lets out a groan as you take him in your hand again and lick at his tip, savoring the small beads of precome that meet your tongue. You hum at the salty tang of them, dragging your mouth down the length of him, tracing the soft vein along the underside of his cock with your lips and tongue.

“Oh, shit,” Eddie moans, his hand finding it's way into your loose hair nearly immediately. He doesn’t pull, he doesn’t push, his hands are entirely too gentle. His fingertips pet soft at your head like he’s praising you already and you’ve hardly even started, “You.. Baby girl, you don't have to-”

You lean back from where you'd been swirling your tongue around the head, giving his length a couple of short tugs as you look up at him through your lashes with a huff, “Mm, and maybe I want to. You ever think of that?”

He balks, hips jerking minutely and incidentally thrusting his cock toward your pouting lips, “I.. Um-”

“Maybe I’m a young, confident woman who knows what she wants. And maybe I want to suck you off. Did that not cross your mind? Hm? That maybe I might like having your dick in my mouth?” You continue, voice dropping a few octaves.

A soft gasp turned groan falls from the older man’s lips when you lean back in to suck lightly at the tip and the sound has your thighs clenching together against the wave of arousal that curls in your tummy.

“Do you?” Eddie can’t help but ask, the question coming out a quiet groan, “Like it?”

“Mhm,” You hum around him, pushing further down his length to take in more of him, letting him feel the way your throat constricts around the head of his cock when you gag before pulling all the way off again, “Love it.”

“I just thought- Pretty thing like your shouldn’t have t- God. I, uh. You.. Shit. You’re certainly ohmygod- g-good at it.” He struggles to get his words out when you take him back between your lips, but then he’s huffing a quiet sigh of distress when you remove the warm heat of your mouth from his length once again.

“Good..?” You repeat in question.

“Wh- Huh?”

Eddie is blinking down at you dumbly, his hand flexing in your hair as he tries to clear his head. It's infuriatingly sexy.

“I’m on my knees for you in a dirty bar restroom and I’m ‘good’ at sucking your dick? It's.. ‘Good?’” You say the word with distaste, one eyebrow ticking up on your forehead in challenge as you place his tip back against your lower lip teasingly. You let it rest there, one hand coming up to his waist to keep his hips from jutting forward as you part your lips and let a warm breath wash over the wet head of this cock.

“Shit, sweetheart. Did I say good? I meant great! I, uh, phenomenal! M-mindblowing fuck-” He moans loud around the word when you reward him by taking him into your mouth again.

You let him rest heavy on your tongue, sucking and bobbing your head in slow drags while he sighs out a desperate little sound at the feeling.

“Fuck. You- You’re perfect, baby girl. You have to know that. An angel. Gotta know how much you’re- Ohh-”

The surprised groan that cuts him off has you soaked beneath your panties, moaning around his length in response.

“-How much you’re rockin’ my world right now.” He finishes weakly.

You pull off to give him an amused smile, jerking him in earnest with one hand and wiping spit from your lips with the other, “Oh, I rock your world, huh, old man?” You tease.

“God damn it,” Eddie breathes the words, dragging you up by your shoulders until you’re standing in front of him again, “You really are a little brat, aren’t you?”

But his mouth is on yours before you can respond, beer coated tongue breaking through the seam of your lips, a wide palm and fingers covered in cool rings encasing the back of your neck as he leads you just a few steps backward, until your spine is hitting the door.

Your keening moan is lost in the kiss, and as life-changing as his cock and fingers and mouth prove to be that evening, it’s his whispered words of praise and the sweet kisses he presses to your hair as he catches his breath at the end of it all that truly ruin you for anyone else.

As it turns out, the older mechanic who fixed up your car? Eddie? He’s kinda it for you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #older!eddie #mechanic!eddie #older mechanic!eddie #stranger things #eddie blurb #stranger things blurb #eddie imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #*

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optimist-pine · 2 months

Text

Bodyguard

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: people are naked, but it's barely even borderline suggestive

Summary: You need a bath, but there's no way you're going alone

Era: Season 1, the Quarry

Your skin practically crawls from the buildup of dirt, sweat, and who knows what else that's managed to accumulate over the past three days. You still haven't quite adjusted to the reality of not having on-demand access to a hot shower and your scalp is all oily, and itchy, and eugh - gross. A little shiver runs down your spine at the thought - well, maybe that's just more sweat...

The bold shades of the sunset are beginning to fade as you make your way to the Dixon brothers' camp. Currently they're the closest thing you have to neighbors, your tent being between theirs and the rest of the group. You're dying for a quick dip and rinse in the pond, but you don't actually want to die for a bath, and you know it's a dumb idea to go alone. Everyone else seems busy though and you've come to the conclusion that Daryl seems to be your only option.

Most of the others actively avoid the brothers, and you can't say you blame them. Merle's constantly stirring up trouble and being a general annoyance, and Daryl's quick to jump to his defense. But, on the rare occasion when Daryl isn't being held under Merle's thumb, you catch glimpses of a very different person than what he usually puts out.

He's sitting in an old lawn chair by the side of a fire when you approach, poking a stick around in the coals. Little sparks shoot off where the fresh evening air hits them, and the smell of woodsmoke fills your lungs.

"Hey." You greet. A spot of doubt begins to arise within you, but you quickly stamp it out. With recent events you were beginning to discover that there wasn't much room left for second guessing or overthinking anymore.

"Need somethin'?" He asks, eyes flicking up to you for a moment before returning to the flames.

You hang your thumbs in your belt loops, fingers tapping against your hips. "If you're not busy, I was hoping maybe you could go down to the water with me? I'd ask someone else but they all seem rather occupied at the moment... and I don't think Shane'd let me go alone." You say.

He looks up, jaw set awfully close to a scowl. "I ain't gonna be yer damn bodyguard." He huffs.

"No- I don't want you to watch me or anything like that- I guess I'm just asking for companionship?" You reply. "You could do whatever you're gonna do here, but just do it down there?" You hike your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the pond.

He stays silent, but a sudden chorus of laughter flows out from the direction of the rest of the group. You study the way the firelight smooths out his rough edges, and you can't help but wonder if the look in his eyes is just boredom or if it's really loneliness.

"Unless you prefer Merle's company, then by all means I'll leave ya to it." You continue, trying your best to ignore Merle sawing logs in the tent, and erase the image of his hand too close to his crotch from your mind.

He jams the stick into the dirt hard enough that it remains standing when he lets go. "A'ight. Lemme get 'mah stuff."

"Awesome, I'll be over at my tent when you're ready." You smile, pleased and a little surprised that you'd managed to get him to say yes. Admittedly, Merle wasn't so bad when he was passed out, but it was reassuring to know that you were at least preferred company over an unconscious jerk.

---

Dirt and gravel crunch under your boots as the two of you walk, your knapsack bouncing steadily against your back with each step. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm not necessarily afraid of the dark or anything, but there's a lot worse things in the woods now than just coyotes." You explain. "And it's just nice not to be alone."

He simply grunts in response.

Good thing you didn't ask him along for his conversational skills.

When you reach the edge of the water you find a rock close to the shore to set out clean clothes and a towel. You see Daryl settle down, back propped against a boulder as he starts rummaging around in his own bag. "Whatcha gonna work on?" You ask.

He pulls out a whetstone and a couple large hunting knives. "Cleanin' mah tools." He replies.

You begin to undress, but a feeling of uncertainty causes you to pause. "Man, I wish I didn't feel like he's sitting up there right now with those binoculars..."

"Who? Shane?" He asks sounding surprised.

"Yeah." You shudder. "Guy gives me the creeps."

You hear scrape of the knife grinding against the sharpener. "Well, hurry up an'ere won' be anythin' ta see." He says.

"Yeah..." You keep your eye on Daryl while you finish, but he doesn't lift his gaze even once beyond sharpening his knife. "I won't be long." You assure him as the cool water rises around you.

As soon as you're far enough in you dive forward, the rush of water instantly reviving and refreshing your whole body as it flows past. You rise upwards as giddiness fills you and you break the surface with a laugh. "This is heavenly!" You gasp. You continue diving and twirling, every sore muscle and painful bruise easing away.

You pause to catch your breath and a small splash has you immediately alert. You left your knife up on the shore with Daryl, but you hadn't heard any sounds of alarm from him so surely it's not a walker. But when you look to the shore the sight has you almost equally as shocked. Daryl is chest deep in the water - bare chested that is - ripples being sent out across the still expanse as he sinks further in.

"Hey!" You yell. "I asked you out here because I thought you weren't some sorta pervert!" You hope it's dark enough that nothing in the water is visible because he's only getting closer.

The moon is full and bright, and the way it reflects off the water makes him look almost ethereal. "Can't protect ya if I'm up'ere an' yer alla'way out 'ere." He reasons.

"I don't need protecting." You roll your eyes. "And all the weapons are up there, Dixon!" You send a splash of water directly into his face.

He returns the splash. "Looked like I was missin' out on alla fun." He shrugs. "'Sides, ya never know when somethin' might jus'-" he disappears under the surface of the water and barely a second later something wraps around your ankle, tugging you under the surface.

When you're released you bob back up to the top wanting to be stern, but you're too busy giggling and swallowing mouthfuls of water to do so. When he surfaces behind you, you turn and splash him again sputtering, "Daryl you- that's not- I can't-" and end up full on belly laughing while trying to stay afloat.

You think you catch the shadow of a smile on his lips before he turns and floats away, like he's done nothing worthy of retaliation. 'Oho boy is he gonna get it.' As quietly as possible you lower yourself in the water, and using shadows from the moonlight, you swim under his head. Reaching up with both hands you use all your strength to grab his shoulders and pull yourself above the surface while pushing him down as hard as you can. Then you make a break for it.

You hear him gasp for air, coughing and sputtering as you swim as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

"Get back 'ere, woman!" He shouts, his tone highly amused. "Yer gonna hafta pay 'fer that!"

You don't realize how loudly you're laughing until the beam of a flashlight is suddenly shining directly in your face.

"Everything alright here?" Shane questions, standing on the shore not far from your and Daryl's discarded clothes. A few of the others are with him; Dale, Andrea, T-Dog, and Morales.

Even in the chilly water you can feel your skin begin to flush all the way down your neck. "Yes! All good!" You squeak out, squinting in the harsh brightness.

"We heard yelling." Andrea chimes in.

You're confident that in all your life you've never been more embarrassed. "That was laughing, guys. I wanted a bath and I asked Daryl to be my bodyguard. We were just, uh, blowing off some steam and I guess we got a little loud... Sorry if we worried anyone." You glance at Daryl who appears to be doing his best impression of the invisible man.

You can make out Dale's hat exceptionally well even in the darkness. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Their hesitation to leave sparks frustration within you - do they really think so lowly of Daryl? Is that what this is all about? Sure, nobody really knows him all that well, but you're all practically strangers and he's done alright by you. The desire to defend him takes over and you snap at the group, "Ah, what're y'all, the fun police? Go ruin somebody else's night and leave us be."

You don't take a good breath until they're all headed back to camp, and it's once again quiet and dark. You sigh, tilting your head back to watch the stars so high above as you float. "Dead people walking around eatin' living people - ya think they'd have bigger problems to deal with than a couple'a skinny dippers." You remark.

A quick exhale of a laugh, not quite a snort, echoes across the pond. "People're always jealous of'a good time if they ain't havin' one." He says quietly.

You pull your fingers through the water, feeling the tension push against them. "So... are ya feeling jealous, or did ya have a good time?" You ask.

"S'pose it wasn't too bad." He says. "But I ain't yer damn bodyguard."

And you grin.

---

Yeah, maybe it's a little awkward getting dried off, getting dressed, and walking back to camp but you sleep more soundly than you have since you arrived. And maybe you're a little annoyed with the way everyone seems to have nothing better to do than gossip, but that new gleam in Daryl's eye when he looks at you wipes it all from your mind. And maybe a lot of things suck, but at the end of the day there's someone who actually likes you, and maybe that's enough.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #optimist pine #twd season 1

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j-jinxee · 2 months

Text

ALASTOR DRABBLE -☆

Suggestive under the cut!

"Holy shit Alastor! Is that a lipstick stain?" Angel asked, referring to a red smudge on the collar of Alastors white button up.

The hotel staff had planned a nice dinner night for all the new guests they'd gotten recently, meaning everyone wore their best suited attire.

"Ha! You're seeing things my good man."

- flashback to earlier -

You'd just finished applying your lipstick, setting the tube down on your vanity as your date for the evening came out of the bathroom. You were so thankful that Alastor was interested in you, everyone knew he wasn't really one for romance, yet here he was as your dinner date.

"Oh my stars! You look so good in that outfit! I knew it'd suit you." You were the one who bought him this outfit, since he wasn't used to wearing anything but his usual dress coat.

"I'm glad you like it my dear! I wouldn't be wearing it for anyone else." It was rare to see him without some sort of coat covering his figure, so you wanted this outfit to be absolutely perfect.

You got up from your vanity and made your way over to the doorway he was standing in. Reaching up to straighten his collar, then looking up to meet his eyes. The smile he wore was hypnotising, and the effect it had on you was serious, it made you smile too - most likely from intimidation. You shifted to your tip-toes and gave him a peck, forgetting about your lipstick that wasn't kiss-proof.

"Oh!" You giggled at the sight of Alastor with lipstick on, yet he didn't know what had occurred. "What's so funny darling?" You laughed and lead him to the mirror, letting him see what you'd done. "Would you look at that..." he spoke, "you've marked me, that's different." His eyes grew darker as he observed the vibrant red on his skin, "you want some more?" You asked with a smile.

"How could I say no to a smile like that? Go ahead my dear." He said, crouching down a bit just so you could reach his neck. You hands grasped his collar, keeping him still as you peppered kisses all over his neck and jawline. Giggling the whole time because of how pretty he looked, absolutely covered in your affection. His hands started to drag up your dress, which was already short to begin with. The room started to fill with lust, you could feel it surrounding you, moving up to Alastors lips to capture him in a proper kiss. Feeling his tongue invade every inch of your mouth, smudging the red substance all over him in the process. His hands got dangerously close to your heat, ready to rip off your dress and take you right now, but suddenly-

*bzz* *bzz* *bzz*

"Oh shit Charlie's calling! Uh helloooo"

"Where are you guys? We started like 10 minutes ago and you know I hate leaving people out."

"I'm so sorry Charlie, I uh- we'll be down in a sec I promise!" You ended the call and turned back to Alastor, getting a proper look at your work. Oh how you wish you could take a photo.

"We're late! We gotta go now." You said, scrambling to the bathroom and grabbing some makeup wipes to sort out your messy lips. Alastor slowly followed behind you and did the same, a little sad he had to rub it all off so soon."As much as I would love to show this off, something like this would tarnish my reputation. I'm sure you understand my dear." You smiled, happy that you found something else he enjoys in the bedroom. Little did he know, you accidentally got some on the side of his collar, very obvious since the shirt was white as well. Oh well.

- back to the present -

"I know a lipstick mark when I see one! You can't fool me old man." Of course Angel noticed, you couldn't wait to tell him what actually happened between you two in your next gossip session.

----------------------------------------------------

This came to mind outta nowhere and I was like FUCK YEAAAA so aha hope u like itt x

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rookie98writes · 7 months

Text

Don't Mind Me

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, established relationship, masturbation (male), teasing, cockwarming, riding, voice kink, praise kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, POV reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: You're settling in for bed, but Kakashi isn't quite ready to sleep.

AO3 Link

Anyone who knew Kakashi Hatake knew that there were only a few things he was likely to be doing at any given time. Training was high on the list, as well as going out on missions or indulging Gai in yet another competition; all activities designed to keep his body fit and his skills sharp. But when he allowed himself some true restful downtime, he had one favorite pastime: reading Icha Icha.

Kakashi was infamously known to kick back with his book in any number of locations. He could be spotted in even the most public of places—surrounded by superiors or students alike—with one of his ever-present paperbacks tipped in such a way that no nosy onlookers could peer over his shoulder.

As if the entire village couldn't tell the content of those pages from the book's cover, the author's reputation, or the Copy Ninja's giggles.

And as often as he could be seen reading in public, Kakashi spent just as much time reading in the comfort of his own home. Reading before bed was an old habit of his, since he'd first turned to books as a potential distraction from the nightmare fodder constantly rattling around in his head. Over time, Kakashi found the near-perfect antidote to his nightmares in the romantic exploits of the Icha lcha series, buying copy after copy to ensure he would never go without.

More recently, he'd stumbled upon the good fortune to find you, and the romance that blossomed between the two of you was something that Icha Icha just couldn't match.

He still liked to flip through the book before falling asleep, but you suspected it was more out of routine than necessity. These days, the best way Kakashi knew to fall asleep was to get tangled up in bed with you, and it was a sentiment you wholeheartedly shared.

As he read, you nuzzled yourself into the perfect position against him. You loved the feeling of his arm around your waist, his solid form under your fingertips, his cheek resting on the top of your head. He would breathe so gently, you barely felt his chest rise and fall. Every minute or two, you would hear Kakashi turn a page; the sweetest domestic white noise lulling you to sleep.

Just as you had nearly drifted off, something disturbed you just enough to snap you back to consciousness. Maybe it was some tiny twitch of Kakashi's muscle, or a slight change in temperature in the room, or maybe one of your synapses just tripped over its own feet. But whatever the cause, your eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the low light of Kakashi's reading lamp.

As your vision focused, you first spotted the gently illuminated pages of the book Kakashi held in his left hand, his wrist still propped on your hip. The writing on the pages was distorted in your blurry vision. You couldn't discern what was happening on the page, but the number printed neatly at the bottom let you know he'd gotten through about thirty pages since you'd snuggled in with a kiss on his cheek and a whispered 'goodnight.’

Then your focus shifted as movement a little further back caught your eye.

Looking past the book, you were treated to the sight of Kakashi's free hand working over his exposed cock, his fingers wrapped around the shaft and stroking over the length at a languid pace. He was in a state just shy of fully erect, the skin gliding up to roll over the ridge of his cockhead with every upward motion. The tip was slightly darkened, with a generous drop of opaline precum welling at the slit.

It didn't take even one second for your entire body to react; your eyes widening, your cheeks flushing, your mouth watering. And that's to say nothing of the reaction between your legs.

Your body was excitedly awake, but your brain seemed to be lagging behind.

"What’a’ya doin’?" you heard yourself ask, the words blending together in a poor attempt at shaking off the dregs of sleep.

It was a stupid question—there really wasn't any way to misinterpret what you were seeing—but still, the words tumbled off your traitorous tongue without any command.

"Hm?" He turned his head just enough to fix his charcoal eye on you. A rosy blush colored his cheeks, but you weren't sure if it was there before or after you'd caught him.

"I'm sorry," he continued, crinkling his eye into a smile. "I thought you were asleep."

You couldn't think of any way to respond. The entire situation was nothing short of ridiculous. In the scant time since you'd closed your eyes to go to sleep, Kakashi had gotten so worked up by the content of the book that he'd felt compelled to reach down, push his sleep pants and his briefs down far enough to expose his dick, and start masturbating, all without disturbing you in the slightest.

And only Kakashi knew how long he'd been at it before finally letting his composure slip just enough to wake you.

That's some use of jōnin skills.

You couldn't help it; the bark of laughter burst from your throat before you realized it was happening.

And the more Kakashi just stared at you in response—scarred eye closed; pink deepening the color of his face; hand frozen, just holding his dick—the funnier it got. Snickers and giggles built in your chest faster than you could breathe them out, more and more until your eyes were watering and your stomach burned from laughter.

It could have been anywhere between ten seconds to ten minutes before he finally broke his silence. "Y/N," he calmly spoke, your name almost lost among your continued hilarity, "if you keep laughing like that, I might start taking it personally."

Your body shuddered as you tried to get your breathing under control in an effort to spare both his pride and your abdomen. "I'm-I'm…sorry—" you gasped, squeezing your eyes tight to force the building tears to fall. "It's just…silly."

A strange look sparkled in Kakashi's eye. "I've been accused of being a lot of things, Y/N, but never silly."

"Well right now?" you grinned, "that’s exactly what you are."

“And just what exactly is so silly to you?"

Even thinking the explanation caused more giggles to sputter from your lips as you spoke. "You're secretly touching yourself to that pervy book while I'm practically on top of you. It’s just…funny that it affects you that much.”

Kakashi silently watched as you stifled the new outburst of laughter. His eyebrow raised a fraction of an inch, but it quickly settled as you relaxed.

"Ahhhh, I see." He closed the book, holding his page with his thumb as he snuggled you a little closer. "Don't worry, Y/N. There's no need to be jealous.”

"Wha…jealous?" you echoed. "Of a book?"

"I only wanted to give you the chance to get some rest," he continued. "I know you've been busy lately, and naturally I don't expect you to answer my every beck and call. So…" Kakashi trailed off with a shrug, then leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Don't mind me.”

With a smile, he returned his attention to his book. You stayed frozen in position as Kakashi went right back to reading as though nothing had happened, his eyes on the filthy words and his hand resuming its lazy strokes over his swollen cock.

Wait... what?

Had you just been...dismissed?

You were awake and uncomfortably aroused—two facts that you were sure he was equally aware of—and he chose to just...go back to the book?

Now you were the one taking something personally.

You nudged his arm to give yourself space to shift your hips, intentionally rubbing the front of your body against his side while you slid off your panties and successfully recaptured your boyfriend’s interest. Kakashi watched with curiosity as you propped yourself up on one elbow and gently shooed his hand away from his penis.

When the obstacle was out of your way, you sat up on your knees and tossed your leg over your hips to straddle him.

"What's all this?"

His voice was measured and controlled, but his attention was fully on you. You suppressed a haughty grin as you reached down to take his erection in your hand, gently running your thumb over his slit to collect the precum and bring it to your mouth.

You moaned as you licked the bitter fluid from your digit, swirling your tongue and holding eye contact all the while. After a few seconds you removed your thumb, glistening with saliva, then wrapped your hand around his dick once more to guide him to your entrance.

You bit your lower lip and slowly sank down on him, sighing as the tip of his cock spread you open. The stretch stung a little—your body working with less preparation than he typically gave you—but it was still the feeling that you were craving: him. His right hand settled on your thigh and followed as you went lower and lower, descending so slowly that you were feeling the burn in your thighs.

But it would be worth it.

Maybe now you were the one being silly, but you were determined to prove to him that no book could compare to you.

It wasn't until your ass met his thighs and you saw the smirk spread across his face that you realized you'd fallen into one of the Copy Ninja's perfectly laid traps.

He...I can't believe he sweet-talked me into sitting on his dick!

You had to school your face to keep your jaw from dropping in dumbfounded embarrassment. It was all too clear now. This had been his game all along.

Here you were, thinking you were taking some kind of control, when in reality, you were exactly where he wanted you. On top of him, hands on his chest for leverage, his cock so deep inside of you that you swore you could feel him bulging against your stomach. Wetness drooling from your cunt, making his lap slippery and shiny.

You wriggled your hips to get comfortable, noticing the way he triumphantly grinned at your movement. His cock filled you to the point that you could hardly adjust. And he just laid flat and watched you, waiting for you to start riding him, a look in his eye that proved he knew exactly how badly you wanted to do just that.

Hmmmmm, maybe he'll be waiting longer than he expected.

The perv truly loved it when you fucked yourself on his dick. Nothing turned Kakashi on like watching you raise yourself up just to crash back down on him, greedily wringing his every inch for your pleasure.

Not this time.

In a fit of theatrics, you stretched your arms to the side and yawned, giving him one last good look at your body and the cute bulge under your navel where his cock was securely snuggled. You leaned forward—trying to ignore the tight squeeze of his fat dick inside you and how perfectly it stretched you as you moved—and carefully laid down on his chest, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling back into his neck.

“Mmmm sleep tight, Kakashi,” you murmured.

Stunned silence was your only answer, and you had to hold yourself back from cheering in the name of victory. You were way too wired to actually fall asleep now, but the next move was all Kakashi’s.

Finally, finally you'd gotten the upper hand. True, you would probably benefit more from riding him until you were fucked too stupid to even remember where you were, but the victory of surprising him was almost as sweet. Besides, with his sex drive, you could easily get another chance to take your pleasure from him. Beating him at his own game, though? You might never experience this again.

Just as you were starting to worry that the silence would stretch on forever, Kakashi addressed you in a whisper.

“Sweetheart?”

And let the groveling begin.

“Mhmm?”

He kept his voice low and soft, his gentle question tickling your ear. “If you're going back to sleep, you don't mind if I read just a little bit longer, do you?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering if you should truly be insulted that he was still thinking of the book. “You want…to keep reading?”

“I’m almost to the end of this chapter, and I hate to leave things unfinished.”

There was a brief pause of silence where you tried to figure out his plan. “Okay,” you finally answered. “But don't move; I’m so comfy.”

“Don't worry Y/N,” he cooed, holding his book up in position. “I'm comfortable too. Right where I am.”

Suspicious as you were, you allowed your eyes to close as you breathed in the familiar scent of Kakashi's skin. Despite the demanding feeling of fullness between your legs, everything was serene. Kakashi stayed still, exactly as you asked. You couldn't even notice when he moved to turn a page.

You were reluctantly coming to terms with the fact that you might have to settle for a draw when you heard Kakashi’s low, rumbling voice in your ear.

“He licked his lips, his love's delicious juices making his entire jaw shine.”

You sharply sat up enough to look at him, cursing the pathetic little moan that slipped past your lips as you felt his cock brush along your walls. "W-what are you doing?"

His eye flicked to yours, the usual stormy grey now completely black and as devious as the smirk on his face. “I’m reading, Y/N.”

“But…out loud??”

“What’s wrong?” Kakashi grinned. “Is it affecting you?”

You started sputtering a nonsense response, but before you could manage to form a single word, he simply looked back at the book and continued reading. “‘You taste better than I ever imagined, gorgeous,’ he growled. ‘I can't wait to feel you.’”

The words sounded so beautifully lewd in Kakashi’s thunderous baritone, you couldn't fight the shiver climbing along your spine. Against your conscious will, the muscles inside your cunt tightened around him and forced a needy moan from your lips. He just felt so good, you decided right then and there that you were done with whatever game you'd been playing. Screw it.

He could gloat all he wanted, but if you didn't get some friction, you were going to lose your mind.

You lifted only a centimeter off of him before he stopped you with the strong grip of his one free hand on your hip. “Kakashi….” The whine that left your lips was absolutely pitiful. “Why are you—”

“Because, if it's so silly that I like these books so much, you should have no problem holding still."

What?!

He had to be joking. He wouldn't seriously torture you—and himself—like this…would he?

With a subtle shift of your hips, you dared to test the waters. Only the barest hint of satisfaction swept over you before his grip tightened.

“I said…hold still.”

Your walls gripped down on him, clear arousal drooling from your cunt. All you wanted was to move, or feel him moving inside you. But his fingers stayed latched to your hip, his pelvis stayed flat on the bed, and his voice stayed cool and even as he breathed life into the story on the pages.

“‘I want to make love to you until the sunrise,’ he proclaimed while stripping away his trousers. ‘I’ll spend these next five hours showing you the greatest pleasure you've ever known.’”

It wasn't even the smutty nature of the book that had you all hot and bothered. Kakashi could have been reading his own shopping list and you would still be weak just from listening to his voice. Those filthy words only dumped kerosene on the fire.

“‘Open yourself for me, my love. Let me inside.’”

Everything you wanted was so close. So close, but you couldn't have it. Not with the way Kakashi was restricting you. His wide palm was an anchor you had no chance of escaping. All you could do was ignore every impulse and desire in your body and continue to stay still while Kakashi narrated all the things you’d rather be doing.

“He ran his fingers along her pink folds, touching the silky skin he would soon feel around his cock. He smiled as he watched his beautiful partner writhe under his touch. Her mouth formed the most perfect shapes as she whispered his name, begging her lover to give her what she needed.”

You bit down on your lip to distract yourself from the sound of his voice, his smooth tone easily casting a spell over you. He wouldn't let you move, but you had to do something before you lost your mind.

Gently, you pressed your lips to his throat, testing soft kisses along his neck. Kakashi paused his narration, chuckling a laugh that vibrated against your mouth.

“Are you enjoying the story, sweetheart?”

“Kakashi…please…” you whispered. “I need you.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice. “Oh yeah?”

“Please,” you begged, tipping your head up to kiss the sensitive spot behind his ear. “Please, baby.”

A soft sigh slipped past his lips. “Hmmm, alright.” He shifted his weight letting you lean back enough to see his face. “I’m going to let go, but you're going to be good and stay put for me, won't you?”

Eagerly, you nodded. “Mhmm.”

Kakashi smiled at you. “Very good.”

With his one hand still holding the book, Kakashi moved his right hand off your hip. Goosebumps chased his touch, calluses tracing their way down your plush thigh. His long fingers splayed over your soft skin, fingers reaching back toward your ass while the pad of his thumb landed right over your needy clit.

You gasped at his touch, shoulders tossing themselves back without your permission as your spine curved in ecstasy.

“There we go,” he smiled at you. “Now, where were we?”

Kakashi slowly started circling your clit with his thumb. Another feeble whimper escaped you and your grip on his shoulders tightened, your fingernails digging tiny crescents into his skin as he continued to read.

“Her body opened for him, unfolding like the most beautiful flower. She was still flushed and sensitive from all his tongue had already done to her. Strings of arousal glistened between her folds, and he had never felt such a strong ache between his own legs. ‘Please kiss me,’ she sang. ‘Kiss me and make me yours.’”

You panted little breaths in time with the pattern he was drawing over your engorged bundle of nerves. It wasn't enough. It wasn't even close to enough. The action in the story was progressing much more quickly than he was. His thumb moved maddeningly slow, making your muscles twitch and your body want to scream. You wanted to grind into that lazy thumb and fuck yourself on his perfect cock. All you dared to do was whimper into his neck and dig your fingernails a little deeper.

That is, until Kakashi overplayed his hand.

“He plunged into her warmth. Pressure surrounded him; her h-hot, t-tight, wet insides fitting him just right.” His throat bobbed with a heavy gulp. “She was m-made for him, her m—”

Kakashi’s cock throbbed inside of you, causing both you and him to moan. Your internal muscles fluttered at the long-awaited stimulation, exploiting his moment of weakness and baiting him into giving you more. He clutched at your body to regain control, but you could tell his resolve was finally crumbling.

You seductively brushed your parted lips over his earlobe, relishing the heavy sigh he awarded you. “Don't stop,” you whispered, letting your voice drip with desperation. “Tell me what else he does to her.”

Kakashi tossed his head back with a groan, and his hips thrust just an inch off the mattress. You could have cried at how good the friction felt. “Kashi!”

“He—haa—sunk d-deeper inside…” Kakashi continued to read in a choppy voice as he worked his cock in and out just that last inch. “She felt…like heaven…so good…”

Carefully, you let your hips start to roll against him. Most of the pressure and stimulation was still directly on your clit, and now that you had a little control, you were already trembling. It was so much closer, but it still wasn't enough.

You wrapped your arms around him tighter, grounding yourself as you started fucking him the way you’d wanted to since you’d caught him fucking his hand instead of you. His broken narration started to get lost among his moans and your whimpers. You let his name slide from your lips in a plea, and that was the last straw.

The book clattered to the floor with a sound so worrisome, you wondered if you needed to stop. But Kakashi's free hand was immediately on the back of your head, holding you in place against him while he started to thrust up into you in earnest. His hand on your hip squeezed tight, letting go only for a second to land an encouraging smack across your ass that had you clenching in on him. Then he found his grip on your hip again, pulling you down to meet his thrusts with resounding wet slaps.

“Up baby,” he ordered, releasing his hold on your head. “Ride me like you mean it.”

With an intoxicated laugh, you planted a loud, sloppy kiss on his cheek. Then you moved your hands to his chest and pushed yourself up into a seated position. His eyes seared into you as you immediately got to work; rolling your hips and extending your thighs to rise up over him, tits swaying in a way that made him lick his lips.

On your first full descent down his long, thick cock, you practically screamed out for how good it felt dragging along your needy insides. Kakashi bent his knees and planted his feet so that you could fuck yourself on him exactly how you needed to.

“Fuck, that’s it baby.”

Kakashi looked at the place where your bodies met; yours taking him in again and again and again, bouncing up and down with an urgency that left a creamy white ring around the base of his cock. After all of his teasing, that sight alone was enough to have him ready to blow.

“Not…gonna last.”

Your fingernails burrowed into his skin, digging out little crescent shapes that stood out even among all of his scars. “Not yet,” you begged. “Please, not yet…need more.”

A deep, resounding groan rippled up his throat. “Take what you need. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Your mouth hung open, eyes rolling back in your head as you worked your body over Kakashi’s perfect dick. He was exactly what you needed in every way. The breath was knocked from your lungs every time you brought yourself back down. Your body moved in perfect harmony, every muscle and nerve playing its part so you could selfishly enjoy him. You could feel beads of sweat running from your neck down your chest.

Kakashi watched you with both eyes open. His hips kept rocking to meet you, but the rest of his body simply reacted to your movements. He smiled as your body stuttered in pleasure, so close to your peak but barely missing it.

“Kashi…” you whined. “S’close…please…”

“Need my help, sweetheart?” Apparently, Kakashi couldn’t help but taunt you one last time. But your only goal now was to cum, and you vigorously nodded, giving him the control that he never failed to use to your benefit. “C’mere.”

With one arm wrapped around your hips and the other high on your back, Kakashi pulled you back down to his sticky chest. You held onto him as he pressed his wide palm into your lower back, grinding your clit into the coarse silver hair trailing up toward his navel.

“Kakashi!” Pleasure immediately washed along your entire body, already better than anything you’d been able to accomplish on your own.

“That’s it, Y/N,” he panted. “Now cum on me.”

You bit down on his neck and whimpered from how good he made you feel. The light sheen of sweat on his skin tasted of salt and only made your mouth water for more. You gave up on the last dregs of your dignity, grinding into him with the single-minded focus of getting off on your gorgeous, beloved menace of a boyfriend.

“Y/N…fuck, please…”

His voice was deep and reverent even as he was pleading for you to cum, and the beautiful sound finally caused the building tension in your lower belly to snap. You responded with a gasp as your inner walls squeezed down and suffocated his cock. Not a second later, Kakashi let out an indulgent, satisfied sigh and you felt his cock pulse inside of you, filling you with warmth.

“Mmmm, baby…” His body relaxed beneath you, his arms encircling you to cradle you to his chest. “Fuck, that was good.”

You planted a kiss on his neck, smiling at the faint mark left there by your teeth. “Better than the book?”

Kakashi ran his hand up the back of your neck, spreading goosebumps along your skin. His long fingers tangled into your roots, gently coaxing you back a little so you could look at his face. His other rough palm cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek as his eyes narrowed to complement his adoring yet devilish grin.

“What book?”

tagging @deviant-donna 💕

► masterlist

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi imagine #reader insert #reader insert smut #rookie wrote

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etheries1015 · 28 days

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Rubbing Lilias back

General warnings: Gender neutral reader, Suggestive, established relationship, mentions of Lilias trust issues and his horrible back problems <3

I saw someone comment under Silvers's birthday photo that Lilia may be wearing a back brace, which made perfect sense to me! We also see during battles (if you use his cards and see his sprite) he constantly stretches his back before entering a battle, poor old man <3

So, what if, the observant human you are, offer to give him a loving message?

"Lilia, is your back alright?" The fae had always been against showing people his vulnerabilities, yet sitting there watching TV in the ramshackle dorm alone with you gave him the confidence to confide his woes to you.

"I will admit," he started, "my back has been causing me some issues as of late. I've had to consistently wear my back brace to alleviate the pain," He sighed. You gave him a look of pity before a light bulb flickered in your mind and you turned to face Lilia with excitement.

"Let me rub your back for you! I promise I'm good at it," You smiled, "At least, I like to think I am." Lilia's red orbs widened in surprise at this declaration, before his signature smug smile came upon his features.

"Ohohoh? Well, far be if from me to deny such a kind offer!"

So there you were, Sitting atop Lillias back while he lay on the ground and you used all your might into giving him a message.

"Although you haven't much strength in you, I would say this is rather relaxing!" you groaned and complained that you weren't weak, just that his clothes were thick and you were having a hard time getting to the right spots. Once you said the magic words, Lilia immediately removed his shirt leaving him topless. You stared at the scars that were upon his body in surprise, your fingers lightly tracing the marks on his back causing him to shutter under your feathery touch.

"little bat," He hummed, "Admire my beautiful physique another time, did you not say this would be easier for you?" The fae teased. With a rosy shade of red upon your cheeks you continued to knead at his shoulders and back, feeling the outline of his muscles and bare skin...you couldn't help but feel yourself embarrassingly become aroused at such simple contact. You couldn't help it, everything about this man was utterly perfect and a simple contact such as fingertips against bare shoulder blades could make you melt. The moment Lilia groaned in satisfaction at your persistent touch, you knew it was game over. You felt our hands become sore and the distraction of your arousal caused your grip to lighten, no longer pressing deeply into the tense tissue as you were.

"Ahh..." He hummed, "You said you were going to give this old man a massage, however..." The movement happened all at once, and you soon found in a blink of an eye he had twisted your positions in which his hands pinned your wrists above your head and he was looming over you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"It seems in terms of strength, I am still far above you despite my...minor back issue." You noticed him wince slightly but distracted you from that fact by pressing a kiss against your lips, noting how you had gotten distracted and it had not gone unawares from Lilia's "detector," as he calls it.

Pulling away from the kiss, his eyes stared deep into yours, allowing silence to reign. You were giving him a deadpanned stare, and Lilias eyes shut tight with sweat dripping from his brow and face pale and scrunched.

"You just hurt your back doing that maneuver, didn't you?" Lilia pursed his lips and hesitated before nodding, leaving you sighing helplessly.

"Alright, let's move you to the bed. I'll go grab some medicinal agents and your back brace." you gently helped him to the side assist him up, "and don't try and say you're fine. I don't sleep with liars, so knock it off."

"I suppose that is deserved...thank you, dearest. whatever would I do without you?~" Lilia kisses your cheek as you assist him, internally thanking fate for bringing him such an amazing person as yourself. Oh how he never thought he would find himself confiding his weaknesses with someone else, and you were there to prove him wrong time and time again.

And...although he's a feeble old fae, he will never stop trying to impress you with his rizz, heuheu. Albeit at the expense of his poor back, make sure you scold him about his posture when he's gaming and other poor habits he picked up over the years. Smh.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #Twisted wonderland fanfic #twst fanfic #Lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #Lilia vanrouge fic #Lilia headcannons #Lilia vanrouge headcannons

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winterarmyy · 8 months

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Thin Walls, Thin Lines

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

Summary: Modern society surely had corrupted the mind of the hundred-something year old man, Bucky Barnes, when he seemed to have forgotten the art of courting a lady. Lost in lust and pleasure, he had been indulging with endless array of different girls on his bed almost every night. And the opposite side of that thin walls of his room, lives a hopeless romantic who he was madly in love with.

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.9k++

Warnings: avenger au, explicit language/contents, angst, lil bit of drama, fluff, please bare with the fuckery of bucky barnes, reader is sensitive yet quite fiesty too. i can't backup steve on this one, he is on his own.

A/N: As you can see from the navigation bar, we have two different endings for this fic, because I am greedy and indecisive. The original version ended with fluff and the deleted scene (alternate ending) ended with absolute filth of a smut. So... enjoy! 💕

P/S: And this is also my submission for @jessybarnes 's writing challenge. I have chosen "Kiss me again" from the prompt list and I hope you like the way I used it in this fic!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N has always been a hopeless romantic. She dreams of a love like the ones she read in books. She craved someone who loves her so deeply that she could never find peace in anyone else but him. She wanted all the love songs and poetry to be reminders of him; his beauty, his charms.

Fresh flowers, stargazing, coffee dates, kisses that tastes of cotton candy, warm cuddles, and every little things in between; she longed for it all. She dreams of a love that is so consuming until all that's left in that small bubble of infatuation is their entangled soul mending each other to the bone.

That's what makes her a hopeless romantic.

And very much the opposite of her was Bucky. He is an infuriating flirt. There's not a day goes by that he doesn't call her with sickeningly sweet nicknames; doll, gorgeous, princess, darling, you name it. He will definitely drop some suggestive lines at any given chance and most of the time when she least expected.

He can charm anyone just by his presence, and if you're lucky enough to get one of his infamous smile; then you best believe that you won't be going home alone that night, or able to walk proper the next morning. He is the typical playboy you know and hate; very often she'll see different girl in his arms or on his bed. And that man seemed to not know when to stop. Sometimes, she do wonder if he ever got tired of sex. Because she knows for certain that he can go on and on for hours, daily.

"Fuck,, that's it. Spread your legs for me. Yeah, 'atta girl."

Speaking of the devil.

This has been recurring for months now. It seems like the man never sleep because his voice would always wake her up. She couldn't decide what was worse; between being forced to hear the sounds of the skin slapping, the bed creaking, him groaning and her squealing or being a super light sleeper that even a whisper in her room would jolt her awake.

Y/N let out an annoyed grunt when she swoop her head under the pillow, hoping to silenced the noises even just a little bit. Surprise; it didn't help at all. Her body cringed and her face contorted into a squint when she hear the other woman announcing her release as the headboard hits the wall a little harder, a little faster.

Bucky Barnes sure is a fuckboy but unfortunately for her, he is also the man she fell in love with.

She refused to show it, but lord knows how much her heart simply swell to the sight of his smile. Despite the flirtatious tendencies of his, there was something about him that attracted her like a magnet; or like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was his old soul, or maybe because she saw glimpses of timeless charm in him; the way he moves, the way he gazes, and the way treated her. Nevertheless, it was such a devastating thing for someone like her to fall for someone like him.

The last thing she wanted in a man, is to look at her like she was just a good fuck and nothing more. She just couldn't imagine herself to be tied with someone like that. And Bucky was exactly that someone.

Y/N haven't been able to get more than 2 hours of sleep for months now. The lack of it had caused her to drastically lose physical strength and lately fatigue has been a constant presence as well.

So she decided to go the medbay to consult Dr. Cho about it. After running some tests, she sat her down for some Camomile tea as she went through the results, "It seemed like the severe lack of sleep had took a really heavy toll on you."

Y/N sighed as she place the tea cup on the back on the table, "Yes, I am well aware of that. That is precisely why I am here."

"Nightmares?" Dr. Cho speculated.

If the definition of nightmare is 'the moans of the man, that she had a crush on, fucking someone else next door' then, yes. She was having long and nearly endless nightmares for months now.

"Something like that." She lied.

"Then, I have some medication that I can prescribe to you. You should take it daily after dinner and..." Before Dr. Cho managed to finish her instructions, Y/N quickly asked, "Is it possible to fix me without meds?"

Dr. Cho frowned curiously, "Why wouldn't take meds? That's the quickest way to help for your situation, as far as I know." she asked.

This was not her first rodeo; she had troubles sleeping back when she was merely teenager. And the last time tried using meds, she ended up almost overdosed herself from it, "It's just... I prefer not to." she evaded.

Dr. Cho nodded understandingly before clarifying the current situation, "Well then, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do for you. Though some research suggested that meditation routine before sleep can help. Or putting up some natural ambience like the sound of rain or waves--"

Y/N wasn't really listening after the first sentence. Because all she could thought of was how much longer she can bare with this and what will it take for her to finally snap.

Y/N was dying. At least it felt like it.

With her deprivation of sleep and the intense combat training she had to go through today, her patience was reaching it's limit. After visiting the medbay 2 weeks ago, she had tried to approach Bucky about it but he always took it lightly.

There was series of insincere apology followed by a cheeky promise to 'keep the tone down' for her. But nothing changed. She asked him again and again; days gone by he didn't live up to the end of his bargain.

For those past week, Y/N had resorted to sleep in the living room for most of the nights. How she dreaded to leave her comfy bed but she could no longer tolerate the sounds coming from the other side on the wall. Though she still jolted awake from time to time due to how uncomfortable it was sleeping on a couch, but at least she got more than 2 hours of sleep if she was to compare to the nights she slept in her own room.

It's not she didn't notice it at all; she knew exactly how and why it happened. The habit of microsleeping that she developed during the course of this training. The slowed reaction time, the lack of energy, she can feel it. But, there was nothing she can do about it.

The only cure for this was to get some rest. A proper rest. And that can't happened, not without Bucky's cooperation.

When Y/N was marching towards the sargent who was sitting way across the gym; she could see how his eyes undress every piece of her clothing, how his tongue rolled out and his teeth sunk into his lips.

She wasn't even wearing anything remotely provocative but here he was lusting over the way her hips sway especially when he was the one she's walking towards.

The moment she stood in front of him, his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Yes, princess. How may I be of your service?" His voice was sultry and the way he towers over made her slightly nervous for no reason.

Her heart fluttered, yet her lips refused to form a smile, "Don't call me princess."

"I apologize, my queen." Bucky gave her a cheeky smile.

Y/N didn't want to drag this any longer than she should, so she quicky jump into it and said, "So you know how I’m like-"

"-absolutely embarrassingly in love with me? Yes, I'm familiar go on." Bucky cuts in. If panic ever rose in her chest, then she was doing an incredible job of hiding it, "Can you just shut up for a second and take me seriously?"

His eyes glint with flirtaous mischief when he replied, "Doll, you know the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me."

Y/N simply sighed before she began to rant, "I really don't have the mood for this banter with you, Barnes. I just want you tone down your nightly routine. It is because of you I've been having trouble sleeping and--"

He quickly stopped her before she nags even more than she already did, "Okay, okay I get it. We've been through this, doll." Bucky's face lit up when he suggested, "How about I help you sleep, hmm? I may know a thing or two about tiring someone out." There was surely something unholy in those steel blue eyes of his.

And Y/N picked it up rather quick, but considering the amount of times he had insinuate something more than just a friendly banter, then of course she knew exactly what he was suggesting, so she simply replied, "No offense, Barnes. But, I don't do one night stand or no strings attached thing. And with a manwhore like you? No, thank you." sassy was her answer.

Bucky's head tilted back as he laughed, then when he spoke his voice was like a devil luring an angel to sin, "Oh babydoll, if I were to be a whore, it'll only be for you." He stepped closer so that only she can hear his confession.

His masculine scent hits her nose, mixture of the citrus cologne and his natural odour was just perfect. Annoyingly alluring; but perfect. And it took all her will to hold it together and blatantly rejects him, "Still not interested."

Bucky groaned in protest, "Come on, princess. You can't keep dreaming for some prince charming to court you, do you? You know that's probably never going to happen right?"

Surely he meant only to tease her; that it was less likely that an actual prince to romance her. Not that she did not deserve the world; she does. And Bucky was more than will to burn it to the ground if that's what she wanted.

But, Y/N didn't see it that way. She thought that Bucky meant that she is not worthy enough for a decent man to court her with respect and chilvary; that she was just a toy fit for fucking and nothing more. And the fact that her "insomia" had affected her usually high patience and reduced it to almost paper thin, it was only fair for her to finally snap.

She can tolerate his endless flirtation but she can't simple turn a blind eye for his insult.

Bucky was caught by surprise why Y/N harshly grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back and nearly stumbled; her eyes was pure fire when she growled, "Don't you dare mock the way I value relationship, Barnes." Her nose flared with anger and the commotion has attracted some prying eyes towards the two.

"Just because you enjoy fucking anything that breathes, that doesn't mean that everyone else does." She seethed, "The only cock that will be wrecking my pussy would belong to someone I love and if you have a problem with that, you can fuck right off." She forcefully pushed him until his ass landed on the bench behind him.

Her feet stomped all throughout her exit out of the gym, leaving Bucky in a blinking confusion.

He knew it was wrong.

It felt good. It felt right.

But, it was so fucking wrong.

To keep moaning Y/N's name when he railed those strangers to heaven; when he came so hard into the thin layer of condom. And it was always a soft and slow type of whimper, right in those girls' ears. So intimate, so careful not to let his secret out; knowing how thin the walls between him and the love of his life.

But, he certainly didn't care about the girl he was fucking. If it wasn't for his heavy body pinning her from behind, she would've elbowed him right in the guts for moaning another woman's name. Unfortunately for him, she quickly ditched and see herself out after the first round.

Now, he laid there; naked and bare. Thinking of how he simply couldn't help it. How could he not think of Y/N all the times? Not when he was deeply, helplessly in love with her. But, he knew she wouldn't bat an eye at him now that he had the reputation of a "fuckboy", as the young ones describes it. She especially made it clear today at the gym. She's never going to give him a chance now.

Not when she's a hopeless romantic. And the fact that he too was once the same was just aggravating to him. He was such a gentleman decades ago; before Hydra, before the war, when he was but a young man living Brooklyn.

His Ma had really shaped him into the perfect gentleman; every parents in the neighbourhood wanted him as their son-in-law. They claimed he would make the perfect husband for their daughters. But, things are different now. And he knew that the man he was before was long forgotten.

It was just curiosity at first; about how sex works in the 21st century. However, Bucky quickly fall into the promises of lust and pleasure; changing girls like changing clothes. He let himself dosed in ecstasy, as if it was a drug to silenced the dark and haunting memories of his past, like it was a quick escape from reality, from the Winter Soldier.

Then, Y/N happened.

Bucky never saw it coming; but, he fell. Hard.

They were colleague for years and had been a good friend he can rely on besides Steve. She was so sweet and pretty. Probably the most gorgeous woman he ever laid his eyes on, in the hundred something year old life of his. Most importantly, she was kind and patient and strong and fierce yet so unforgivingly selfless.

But that didn't matter now, does it? Especially when she despise him. And it was all because of the unholy title he held.

At first Bucky didn't notice it, but now that he stepped closer into the living room, he heard it again. The rustling fabric, the quiet whimper coming from the sofa. His steps were as careful as a wolf on a hunt, stalking a hiding prey in between the trees.

If Bucky were to guess what he would find on a late night trip to the kitchen, he would've probably said 'ice cream' and not 'Y/N sleeping in the living room'. His eyes briefly raked her sleeping figure, curling uncomfortably into the pastel purple blanket. Then at the scattered pillows on the floor around her.

Why was she sleeping in the living room?

Another whine passed her lips and his attention was locked on her frowning face; it seemed like she was having a bad dream. Bucky carefully crouch next to her, and ravel in her beauty. Such delicate features, long lashes, pretty freckles across her nose, and those soft looking lips; he would kill just to taste her them, to sink his teeth in between them.

It worried him though; to see her sleeping here. She was clearly uncomfortable, it was a mystery that she managed to even fall asleep in the first place. Bucky suspected she simply passed out due to today's training. It was particularly hard, even for him. Let alone a normal human being like Y/N.

Not to mention the fight that they had.

Then, it clicked. The complains about how she had trouble sleeping. It wasn't just to make fun of him or tease him in any way. It was a plead. She needed to be heard and he completely blew her off with jest and jokes.

"Was it because of... me?" Bucky thought to himself. It all made sense now, "Shit." A curse rang in his mind when he bit the insides of his cheek. He was mad at himself. How could he be so insensitive? And he claimed to love her? Please. What an absolute piece of shit he was.

When Y/N began to toss and turn, her blanket fell from her body. Even in her sleep, the cold managed to catch her. She instinctively curled towards herself, seeking warmth but was no avail.

She look so small and Bucky felt a surge of need to cuddle her close, keeping her safe, keeping her warm in his arms. But if he does that, he'd probably get kicked in the nuts. So instead, he picked up the fallen blanket lay it back across her whole body; carefully not to disturb her sleep.

Bucky smiled softly when she snuggled into the fabric and before he walked away, he swore to stop this corrupting habit of his and apologize for being such a douchebag to her. And if he's lucky, maybe he could even properly court her.

But for now, he just needed to go through tommorrow's mission. So does everyone one else in the team.

"Do you realized what you have done?" Not matter how hard he tried to hold it back, everyone in the Quinjet can see how Steve was seething.

Y/N's lost of sleep had took a toll on her more than she realized now that it had affected her performance in mission. She tried to ignore the way she was basically seeing Steve's feet multiply by the second, and continued to look down in shame, "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Don't apologize to me. Nat's the one who got shot because of you!" He yelled as he pointed at the red haired woman at the side of the plane.

No matter how much she wanted to blame Bucky on this; how he literally robbed her from fulfilling her human needs to rest at night, but she just couldn't. It was her fault that Natasha got hurt. If she was more alert, she would've seen the enemy standing right in front of her. If she was awake enough, then Natasha wouldn't get hurt.

Tears threatened to form when she looked over at her dear friend, bleeding at the side, "I'm so sorry, Nat. I really am. I didn't know what came to me and I--"

"Oh please, I'd take a bullet for you any day of the week, honey." Natasha swiftly cuts into her apology, in attempt to diffuse the heated situation.

But, Steve totally disagree with her, "Don't make this 'okay', Nat. You almost died because for her carelessness. Being inadequate shouldn't be okay for any agent to do. It is extremely reckless and downright stupid."

There was a sound of a distant gasp from the pilot pit, "Language!" Tony was clearly trying to lighten up the mood but it failed rather miserably when no one reacted.

Steve had every right to be mad, especially when his girlfriend was injured because of this, but oh does it hurt to hear his stabbing words. It hurts more when it comes from the Captain America himself.

God, she was extremely tired.

Physically, mentally and that's what happens when a person is lack of sleep. Then when she thought about all her hardwork and struggles to train amongst the superhero themselves, she couldn't help but to crack; and the tears that was building up in her eyes finally fell.

When Steve saw it, he lost it completely, "Oh, you're gonna cry now? WOW. Real mature, y/n. You can't disappoint me more can you?" At that point, he was being a little too mean for anyone's liking.

Especially Bucky.

So Bucky slowly pulled Y/N back, and shielded her body behind his as he went on face to face with his bestfriend, "That's enough, Steve." He warned but Steve doesn't seem to get the idea, "No, Buck. Do you see--"

Bucky took one step closer, his menacing glare went right through Steve's soul, "I said... that's enough." He repeated his words. This time the message went through.

Steve gulped and cleared his throat as he waved a dismissing hand, "I expect a full report and a letter of apology from you when we get back, y/n." He ended his sentence with his back turned and then walked away towards his girl.

When Bucky turned around to face Y/N, she was but a crying mess. Tears kept streaming down and her lips quivered in so much sadness. Now, that she was in the light, Bucky could see the darker shades on the bag of her eyes.

This was his fault. If he just stopped goofing around and listen to what she had to say yesterday, she wouldn't need to go through this, "Oh sweetheart..." though he meant to call her in his mind, it might just slipped through his lips.

Y/N glared up at him, "This was none of your concern, Barnes." She spat.

He shrugged, "Well, lucky for you, I don't care whose it is. What I know is I care about you. Now, let's get that wound patch up." Bucky simply said, and that was when she realized that her ribs were slashed open, bleeding and torn. Maybe it was not too deep, that was why she didn't notice it.

But it is an injury nonetheless, and it was a surprise to her that Bucky noticed it. "I don't want your help." She frowned yet continued to sniffle.

"Yeah, but you need it." He replied as he carefully tucked the loose strand of her hair behind her ears.

Unable to think of any comebacks, she let her fatigue win over. Her lips shut tightly and her chest shuddered for breaths. And when Bucky took her hand in his and lead the way, her body instantly responded by gripping him tight.

Bucky's heart soared at the touch of her small hand in his, while fire was burning in hers.

She hates him. She hates how caring he can be. She hates how soft he was when handling her. And she hates how easy it was for him to make her fall for him even more.

Y/N's body quickly went on auto pilot; she let him undress the blood soaking top and patch her wounds. And Bucky let her cry her heart out on his shoulder all the way back home to New York.

That night when everyone had settled back to their own rooms, Y/N was prepping to sleep outside again. It was like a schedule for Bucky to always fuck whatever his frustrations out when they finished a mission.

And she doesn't want to hear any of it. Not tonight.

Thankfully, her wounds were mostly healed thanks to Dr. Cho and her ingenious of a machine, Cradle. That thing fixed the teared tissue right up with its regenerative functions.

Now, Y/N just needs to endure the bruises but those are bearable. What she couldn't bear is the lack of energy and goodnight's sleep. She wished to just pass out for days and not wake up even if a prince came to kiss her to wake.

And she knew that sleeping in her room won't give her that.

Y/N piled her pillows and blanket on top of another before scanning the room one last time to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. Because she was not planning to step foot in her room until dawn comes, hoping the sounds from the other side of the room died down by then.

When she was walking pass Bucky's, she noticed how awfully quiet his room was, but she didn't think about it too much. She waited for the elevator to open its door only to reveal the man himself, "Barnes."

He eyed how Y/N's figure almost hidden behind the piles of pillow in her hold. He stepped out as he asked, "Where do you think you're going?" Bucky knew exactly where but he was not having any of that.

It was weird to her that she didn't see any sign or Bucky's hook-up in his arms, but she bet that there will be one after she's gone downstairs, "Away from you, that's for sure." She said, taking a step into the elevator but instantly stopped the moment Bucky blocked her path.

Bucky lips flatten against each other; he didn't say anything, he only frowned down at her then simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to her room.

Utterly confused, "What are you doing? Hey, let go of me." She twisted her wrist in his hold, while trying to balance the pillows from falling. A useless trial it was; because who could even escape that metal grip of his.

Bucky quickly respond, "No. You're not sleeping on that shitty sofa tonight." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her, "You're injured, y/n. You need on a proper rest on a proper bed." He coaxed.

How did he know that she had been sleeping on the coach? She thought before saying out loud, "I'm fine, Barnes. It's not even that deep of a wound, the Cradle fixed it clean. So, can you just... let go of my hand?" She sighed.

But Bucky refused to even spare her a glance, he silently tug her and stomp his way towards her room. There waa retaliation on her side, but his lack of response had lead Y/N to her defeat. She begrudgingly followed his long strides until she they stood by her bed.

He snatched each of the pillows and blankets off her hands, while Y/N simply blinked speechlessly as she watched Bucky started set up her bed like he had been doing it everyday.

Weirdly, at times like this, she found him extremely lovely. There was no corny and flirty comment about her, or his annoying habit of teasing every little thing she does.

There was just a comfortable silence and a kind gesture; the type that pulled the red strings of her heart just enough to make her want to dream of him.

Fucking hell, she can't believe that he managed to do that again! Making her fall for his antics. He really needs to stop doing that, it's simply rude.

Y/N broke from her love struck trance when she felt his cold metal laced around her hand again, he pulled her closer, "Now hop on, bunny. You need to rest." He lead her under the blanket and she grumbled curses under her breath, something about he need stop calling her weird nicknames like that.

When she was well tucked in and comfortable, Bucky sat at the edge of the bed by her side and spoke, "I'm sorry. For not trying to listen to you at the gym yesterday. I was a jerk."

His apology was so sincere that Y/N caught herself in a shock. Who is this man? What has he done to Bucky Barnes?

His eyes lingered to the wall behind her bed as if he was trying to find the right words to address it, "About the noises..." he trailed, "...it'll stop from now on."

Oh. Nevermind. She liked this Bucky. She wants to keep him forever, "Really? You mean it?" There weren't any effort put to hide her excitement when her voice nearly squeaked.

Bucky chuckled amusingly at her reaction, "Really, doll. But, you gotta promise not to sleep on the couch again."

Sparks of joy filled her chest when he confirmed his decision. Sure, it was such a small favour to do to anyone. But, she appreciate his efforts to make amends. "Hmm, I promise." She hummed happily, blinking slow as the comfort of her bed lured her into a drowsy state.

"Thanks, Bucky." Her mentioned his name.

Thank god for the super sensitive hearing ability, cause Bucky surely love the sound of her voice whispering his name so softly, "For apologizing or for tucking you to sleep?" He jest.

It only made her eyes rolled to the side and a smile spread across her face, "Both." she said. "And for what you did on the jet."

Bucky simply shrugged as if it was a normal thing to do. But, it wasn't. It was rare for him to challenge Steve like he did. And he did it for her, "Really, I owe you one." She said assuringly.

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

How could he though? He loved her too much to even think of purposely hurting her. "No." Bucky replied as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, "Sleep well, princess." He mumbled against her skin.

And he pulled back, he grinned a cheeky smile. There it was; the pink blush on her face, wide surprise of her eyes and her slightly parted lips. She looked so adorable. He swore couldn't get enough of it.

"Kiss me again..." she nearly growled, but her blushing on her face didn't indicate anger, "...and I will choke you in your sleep." Though it was an attempt to threaten but typical of Bucky to just love to turn things around, "Hmm, is that an invitation, princess?" He purred and stole another kiss; this time, on her cheek. "Then, I will be looking forward to it." He whispered as quickly as he removed himself from the scene.

When he found his own bed, he couldn't help but to laugh at the muffled scream coming from the opposite side of the thin walls, "James. Fucking. Barnes!!!"

End.

Alternate ending (smut edition): Deleted Scene >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I hope you drop some thoughts behind before going to the deleted scene. Which I know you will. See you on the other side 👀

#jessybarnesreaches500 #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #fuckboy!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #thin walls thin lines au

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 1 month

Text

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him.

“You’re quiet.”

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer.

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“I like watching you clean.”

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress).

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?”

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.”

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.”

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.”

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.”

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Something wrong?”

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?”

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“

“I wasn’t gonna say that.”

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?”

“Can I give you a tattoo?”

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!”

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much.

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.”

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?”

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.”

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

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thestarkinternship · 2 months

Text

Gorgeous

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: You have a boyfriend, and Bucky knows this. But there's nothing that the two of you hate more than what you can't have.

Word Count: 2.8k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, cheating, praise, slight exhibitionism (communal area of the compound), 18+, minors DNI!

A/N: Okay I'm slowly finding my footing in writing stuff like this, but I'm really happy with how this turned out. Inspired by the song Gorgeous by Taylor Swift - expect a lot more one shots inspired by songs, I have a whole list!

"I can't believe your boyfriend let you come here alone tonight."

You turned your head to see Bucky Barnes, with his signature smirk plastered on his face. Great. So much for a chilled night in of drinks with your teammates. Now you'd be spending the whole evening staring at his stupidly smug face. A face that was impossibly good looking. His jawline alone looked like it could've been carved from stone, and his full lips that were only good for sarcastic comments.

Stop it. You have a boyfriend. You scolded yourself.

Instead, you tried to remind yourself of the negatives (not that there were many). Beneath the obvious attraction, you found his arrogant yet charming personality infuriating. And that was before you guys added alcohol into the mix.

Leaning back against the counter to your side, his arm brushed up against yours. The supple leather of his jacket sparked tension and goosebumps as it glided across the exposed skin of your bare arm.

You rolled your eyes at him, shifting to put a little much needed distance between the pair of you for good measure. You wanted to ignore him. To not bite at his obvious flirtatious taunts. But you couldn't resist. "What? You mean I can't hang out with friends without my boyfriend's approval? He doesn't own me, you know. I can do whatever I damn well please."

Bucky's smile twisted into a crooked grin as he raised his mismatched hands in defence. "Alright, alright. You're your own woman and all that. So, if he's not here tonight breathing down your neck, where is he?"

"He's at a club downtown." You told him, reaching for a bottle of liquor. If you were going to have this conversation about your missing boyfriend with the most infuriating member of the team, you definitely needed another drink.

"Oh yeah? And what's so important that he's gotta tear himself away from you?" Bucky asked, cocking his head to one side.

"God knows what." You muttered under your breath. The truth was, your relationship had been rocky for a while. You couldn't seem to agree on anything lately. And spending time together? You'd forgotten what that felt like. More and more, he had been staying out late, every feeble excuse causing deeper cracks in your fragile love life.

But you didn't need to say any of this to his face. It was like Bucky could read your mind. Now, he looked you up and down. "Well, he's really missing out."

Bucky's flirting, whilst harmless most of the time, was really starting to get to you tonight. And he looked so gorgeous doing it that it made you mad.

"Why are you with him anyway? Isn't he a little old for you?" He teased, sipping his drink. The ice cubes bobbed in his whiskey, clinking against the crystal glass.

"He's not that much older than me," you pointed out, "God forbid I dare to like an older man."

"Maybe it's not the fact that you like an older man that I'm questioning." Bucky mumbled under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Your eyes narrowed. But no sooner had the question left your lips had you started to figure out the intention of his words all by yourself.

Could it be the fact that you were dating an older man that wasn't him?

Not wanting to wait for Bucky to confirm this thought, you downed your glass and walked off to find Natasha. Maybe it was the quick rush of alcohol as it flooded your senses, but your heart was definitely beginning to beat faster.

You had managed to avoid Bucky for the rest of the night. Every time you caught his eye, you quickly redirected your gaze elsewhere. You engrossed yourself in gossip with Natasha, in jokes with Sam, and in drinking games with Yelena. But not even the best distraction in the world could take away the thoughts of your earlier conversation with the super soldier. And when your boyfriend text you, saying not to bother waiting up for him, it only got worse. Why were you so concerned with maintaining a relationship with someone who didn't share the same sentiment?

"Hey, I think i'm gonna head to bed." Natasha slurred after a while, nudging you slightly and pulling you from your thoughts into the present. Her eyes seemed weary as her drunken state turned into one of exhaustion.

"It is getting quite late." You sighed and scanned the room. The once full lounge had dwindled into strays as the Avengers slowly retired to bed one by one as the night had gone on. Now, only a couple remained. You finally couldn't resist sneaking a glance at Bucky across the room. Almost immediately, your brain spiralled and you had unwillingly allowed your mind to once again be consumed by him.

Biting your lip, you tried not to admire the way he looked tonight. Maybe it was the drinks taking effect, but even you had to admit Bucky was looking better than ever. His black t-shirt pulled taunt across his chest, looking like it could rip open with even the smallest twitch of his muscles. That particular image lingered in your mind longer than you would've liked, or cared to admit. Lustful thoughts suppressed those of guilt. Granted, simply possessing sinful ideas wasn't cheating. But if you didn't get rid of them soon, who knows what they might cause you to do?

Natasha hopped off the bar stool, her feet wobbling as she reached the ground. "You coming?"

As you looked into her eyes, it was clear that she knew something was up with you. But she couldn't quite put her finger on what. Maybe that was for the best.

"I think I might hang out here for a little longer." You said slowly, trying to keep your voice light and casual.

"You sure?" Natasha pushed, her eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm not really tired." You shrugged, giving her a small smile in an attempt to appease her curiosity.

After a long minute, Natasha relaxed. "Okay. If you insist."

You exhaled a small sigh of relief. "Goodnight, Nat. See you at training tomorrow."

The red head squeeze your arm gently as she left. Sat there alone, you realised how quiet the large room had become. You nursed your empty glass for a moment longer before setting it down on the counter top. In the absence of the party music, the clink it made against the marble surface was deafening in the newfound silence. You swore you actually saw Bucky flinch a little bit from the opposite side of the room.

"What are you still doing up? You waiting for your boyfriend or something?" He asked quietly.

"He's… he's not coming back tonight," you mumbled, "apparently going out with people he doesn’t even know is more important than my feelings."

Bucky's eyes filled with pity as he looked at you. "Oh, that's- i'm sorry…"

"Don't be. It's not your fault that my relationship's on the rocks." You mumbled, even though deep down, you knew that wasn't exactly the truth.

"It is?" He asked. Curiosity got the better of him, and Bucky closed the distance between the two of you as he walked over.

You nodded, not trusting your words until you gave yourself time to think.

"Am I allowed to ask why? Or are you going to ignore me again like you have for the whole night?" His tone was mocking, but underneath there was a softer edge. Bucky had been hurt by your ignorance.

You sighed, feeling bad about how you were acting towards him. It wasn't fair, but what could you say? You hesitated a little, but decided to be honest. "You should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you."

Bucky's face twisted in confusion. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

It was now or never.

"Every time I look into your eyes, I feel like I might sink and drown and die." You whispered. You had never meant it more than you did in that moment. Right now, they were flashing deep blue, a vast ocean as he studied you.

But the truth was finally out there, and Bucky was just as surprised as you were that you had finally come out with it. He stayed quiet, and you took the opportunity to continue.

"I can't stop myself from being attracted to you."

"You have a boyfriend." He muttered, looking away.

"I know. And there's nothing I hate more than what I can't have. That's why i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way."

Bucky's jaw clicked as his eyes flickered up and down your face, waiting for you to say you were messing with him. When you didn't, he groaned at the position you were putting him in. Finally, his flirtatious comments had wormed their way into your head, and he didn't know how to behave anymore. He wanted you. He had been wanting you ever since he'd laid eyes on you.

With the increasing urge to act on his heart rather than his head, Bucky's resilience weakened. As you stood in front of him, cheeks flushed rosy with nerves and eyes bright with what could only be described as hope, his heart pounded in his chest.

Then, he decided to hell with it - if you could be honest, so could he. "You're ruining my life by not being mine, doll."

Fuck it.

Your lips were on his in a second, taking his breath away and keeping it for yourself. Curling your hands through his hair, you pulled his head closer as your nails scratched lightly at the nape of his neck. He hissed into your mouth slightly, and the sound faded into a soft moan. His hands ran down your back to your hips, digging into the soft flesh. Tracing the waistband of your skirt, Bucky smirked as he heard your delicate breathing hitch. He pulled back an inch, equally as flustered.

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you." You whispered.

His lips sucked at the sweet spot on your neck before leaning into your ear. "Mm, is that so? What about-"

"Don't say his name. Not now." You whispered.

His wrists jerked violently, spinning you around in his arms. His chest pressed up against your back, his heart beating fast. Bucky's lips met your neck in gentle kisses, and your head fell slack back against his shoulder. Goosebumps arose as he gently teased your skin. Pulling your hips back with his left hand, he pushed your back forwards with his right. You barely had enough time to brace yourself before your front sprawled out across the marble. The cold from his vibranium fingertips spread like a chill up your spine.

Before you could protest, you felt his hand slide up the inside of your thighs. He lifted the hem of your skirt up, deliberating taking his time as he marvelled at the slow reveal of your bare skin. Shivering, your hips pushed back needily against his. He groaned under his breath as he felt your desperation. Through his tight jeans, you could feel his hardening cock straining in the denim.

His fingertips brushed the edge of your panties, already slick with your arousal. He toyed with the damp fabric, moving it aside before pushing one finger gently into you. That first moment of intimate contact between the two of you was heavenly. As Bucky's finger stroked upwards against that sweet spot, you bit your lip to suppress a moan.

"Don't be shy, princess. It's okay, I know how much you want this," Bucky murmured, daring to add another finger, "let me hear those pretty sounds."

When he added that second finger, you were done for. Your mouth fell open and you couldn't hold back any more. They curled inside of you, brushing that sensitive spot over and over again. With your eyes rolling back into your head, you finally gave in to him and let out every single noise you'd been holding back. The soft cries fell from your lips as he pushed you so close to the edge with his fingers alone.

"That's it, baby. God, you sound like heaven. Can't wait to hear what noise you make when I finally take you."

Just as you teetered the edge of your orgasm, he snapped you back from that ledge with the sudden loss of his touch. You opened your mouth to complain when you heard the metal buckle of his belt clatter as he undid it. Bucky stepped closer, and you felt the head of his cock push between your folds. Nudging your legs slightly further apart, Bucky leaned against you. He rubbed back and forth slowly, every second feeling like an hour.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asked in a hushed voice. It was a sharp contrast to how his previous behaviour, but his need for your consent on actually going through with cheating on your boyfriend outweighed his desire for you.

You hesitated, the reality of what was about to happen finally settling in your brain. As guilty as you felt, this was what you wanted. For so long, you had felt so much shame in your pining. But Bucky wasn't judging you for it. He was more than willing to comply, if it was what you truly wanted. And in that moment with one simply nod, you decided that it was.

With that, his hands trailed up to your hips, gripping slightly as he eased into you. Your breathing hitched at the stretch as your body adjusted to his size. It wasn't like your boyfriend was small, but damn - Bucky was something else entirely.

He didn't stop until he was fully seated in you, his hips meeting yours. The sensation was everything you imagined and more. Filled to the brim with the breath knocked out of you, your eyelids fluttered shut.

"Fuck, doll. Look at you, taking it all so well." His sweet murmurs fell from his lips as he breathed heavily.

He drew his hips back slowly, before moving back in. Bucky listened to your quiet purrs, carefully increasing his pace the more he sensed you relaxed. Before long, he was pounding into you as fast as his body would allow. He kept his focus on the sight of you in front of him, back arched across the counter top taking every inch of him that he had to give you. His hand slid up your back, reaching for your hair and grasping it in his fist. You whimpered as he tugged on your hair, forcing your head upwards. It was something you'd never done before and by the way your walls clenched around him, Bucky could tell you were enjoying it.

"Feel so good around me…" Bucky breathed, his grip on your hips getting tighter with every thrust.

Every sharp thrust from him pushed you closer to the edge that he had previously kept you from. But this time, Bucky had no intention of stopping. Your body jerked underneath him, feet leaving the ground with every swift snap of his hips. Tiny stars clouded your vision, and you reached out to grasp the counter top to steady yourself from his relentless rhythm. Your jaw fell slack open, struggling to get any noise out besides heavy pants.

"Bucky, I-" You eventually managed to choke out.

"I know, doll. I know. Let go." He moaned.

With his permission, you finally allowed yourself to reach your climax. Tiny gasps and whimpers slipped out from you as you squeezed around his cock one final time. The pulsing sensation was all it took to send Bucky spiralling after you. He let out a string of curse words through gritted teeth as he spilled deep inside of you. Bucky stayed where he was for a moment, allowing you both a minute to catch your breath before pulling out. You winced at the sudden empty feeling, a dull ache from the absent presence of him already settling between your thighs. Bucky pulled your soaked panties back into place and readjusted your skirt back to its original position. Slowly, you eased yourself up from the counter top he had had you pressed firmly against. Turning to look at him, you saw that his cheeks were just as red as yours. The corners of his lips turned into a smile as he saw your face again, and you couldn't help but match it.

"So," he chuckled, "about you not being mine…"

Glancing down at the ground, your blush deepened. The last few minutes had cemented everything you had been wondering for weeks. The feelings in your heart had always belonged to Bucky, even if the common sense in your brain had not. Yeah. You and your boyfriend were definitely over after this.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader

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denwritesandcries · 4 months

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Hold to my Hand – Hazel Callahan

Pairing: loser!hazel x fem!reader

Summary: You might be a little – completely – obsessed with your girlfriend's hands and apparently she enjoys that a lot.

Word count: 2,3k.

Content: cursing, fluff, kisses, slight jealousy, hazel being a loser AND a mess, soft gfs.

A/N: So… women, right? Women with rings and cold hands… right?

English is not my first language.

“Babe, stop that!”

“What?” You said, “I’m not doing anything.”

But you were.

You were sprawled out on your girlfriend Hazel's bed, a book from your English class abandoned in front of you while your girlfriend had a laptop open on her lap, the cute look of concentration from before replaced by red cheeks and nervousness at your actions.

It was no big deal, actually, your girlfriend was simply very easy to flustreat; you had one of her hands in yours, leaving feather-light kisses along her calloused, ring-covered fingers, sending goosebumps across her cold skin.

“You’re distracting me,” she whines, looking away to a random spot in the room, “I can’t type like this.”

You huff, climbing higher on the bed to be at her height, keeping your grip on her hand and glancing at the laptop screen.

“Boxing and wrestling techniques?” you read, letting your head fall to rest on her shoulder, “Will you really gonna start a fight club with Josie and PJ?”

Hazel immediately perks up, telling you all about the idea that she and the girls had at lunch – you're sure 80% of it must have come from PJ, but you don't have the courage to interrupt her – and how they're going to get along and have fun with this and Hazel will teach everyone self defense techniques. She looks so much like a happy puppy that it warms your heart.

Unfortunately, you can't give her full attention to the conversation, being too involved in the way she gestures to process anything else.

Okay, maybe you're a little – just a little – obsessed with your girlfriend's hands.

“...You sure you don't want to?”

“Huh?”

Hazel's voice snaps you out of your reverie and she's staring at you with bright, expectant blue eyes.

“Are you sure you don't want to join?” She repeats.

“Hm-hm,” you mumble.

“Please?” She asks softly, “For me?”

You look away from her, because there's no way to deny anything if you're looking at that needy dog face, and you keep yourself looking at the old judo and jiu-jitsu trophies that she keeps on the shelves in the big room.

She really wants you to be part of this, but you know PJ and Josie are probably only doing it because they want to fuck someone and Hazel because she wants to make more friends, but the most you'd get from this club would be a broken nose or tooth, so no, thanks.

“I can come to see you at meetings and give you moral support, love.”

It's not exactly what she wanted, but you know you won. Hazel completely softens the moment you call her love, every single time.

Hazel lets out a long dramatic sigh, giving up her laptop and turning to wrap her arms around you, burying her face in your neck.

“Fine, but you’ll definitely change your mind when the club finally starts!” She declares.

You scoff, sinking into her touch when you feel her hands spread on your hips beneath your shirt comfortably.

“Do you really want to get into this with those two, Haze?” Your question breaks the established silence, somewhat uncertain.

Your girlfriend unfortunately had a tendency to not notice or just not stand up for herself when someone was mean to her and PJ and Josie weren't exactly known for being gentle with people, so Hazel running something with them made you quite apprehensive. Of course, you wouldn't do anything to change her mind since it was something she really seemed to want to do, but a little caution wouldn't hurt.

“Oh, they know what they're doing, babe,” she squeezes you a little tighter, “They were in juvie!”

You laugh, “No, they weren't.”

“Still.”

You keep your word and start attending all the fight club meetings – under PJ's complaints that you're not really doing anything –, busying yourself with cheering Hazel on during her turns and talking to Mr.G about any nonsense stuff that he wants to speak in the stands. It's actually quite fun, but you don't change your mind about the fighting part.

You start bringing water bottles as a treat to the girls while you're there and take on the role of tending to all of Hazel's injuries when it's all over – which is a lot, since they don't really seem to know what they're doing in the moment –, you find yourself being very good at it and probably would have become the whole group personal nurse if it weren't for the possessive look in bright blue eyes and the sad pout on Hazel's face when she watched you wipe the blood from a cut on Brittany's cheek and put on one of the cute little band-aids that were supposed to be only for her one day.

Besides all that, the most important thing is that you have a free pass to admire your girlfriend as much as you want and she looks great kicking ass and throwing punches. Especially throwing punches.

In your defense, the obsession with your girlfriend's hands, your girlfriend’s touch, is actually justified. The thing is, you never had many friends since you came to this weird school and neither did Hazel, so when you got together everything in your relationship was a little new; you found yourself suddenly starving for contact.

Holding hands, playing with the rings on her fingers, pats on the shoulders, arms around the body, hugs, caresses. It was simply impossible not to be aware of every little touch that Hazel gives you, even less impossible not to melt with them.

So yes, maybe you liked it a little too much when Hazel came to you asking to bandage her bruised knuckles just because it gave you the chance to touch her as much as you wanted, like now, at home.

“Ouch!”

“Stop moving, Haze,” you complain as you apply the antiseptic to her, “This will only make it worse.”

“But it hurts,” Hazel whimpers, pulling her injured hand to her chest protectively.

She's sitting on the bathroom sink, which probably wasn't very safe, but it was the best way for you to treat her and also where the first aid kit you were using was kept.

Today's fight seems to have been a little more serious than usual because Hazel's dominant hand is hurt. Like really hurt, with purple bruises already forming over the torn skin, so your spare band-aids weren't enough to take care of it. Now, if she would just let you handle it properly.

“That's bad, you're lucky it didn't break,” you say, taking her hand more gently to examine it, “Damn, what did that blue-haired girl do to you to make this happen?”

Hazel stays quiet, suddenly embarrassed and looking at anything else as you wrap a clean bandage around the wound.

"Then?" You press.

Hazel mumbles something slurred and unintelligible and you frown, not knowing what could have made her so embarrassed. With how easily that happens tho, you didn't have a good guess.

“I heard her talking to some girls before the meeting today.” She pauses, “Talking about you.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to pull away a little so you can look her in the eyes, but Hazel closes her legs around your waist so you can’t move, “Saying bad things?”

She shakes her head and swallows, her blush deepening.

“She said that she likes it when you come to see us,” her good hand grabs the front of your shirt, “Said she wanted to ask you out.”

“Oh, Haze–” You begin.

“She knew we were dating. She knew. But she kept talking about it and I– I got mad, so I hit her.”

Hazel says it all quickly as if it were a single sentence, but you understand anyway; she is nervous, keeping her eyes closed and looking down. She was jealous, still is, but she's also scared of what you'll think of her for it.

Screw it, you think, it's a fight club, people are going to get hurt sometimes. Now it's time to comfort your girlfriend.

“You beat the shit out of a girl for me?” You say, taking the bandaged hand gently and bringing it to your lips, “That’s hot.”

Hazel's face is so red it glows, “Babe,” she squeals.

"What?" You tease, leaving smacking kisses from fist to wrist, “She should know better than to say things like that for you to hear, how rude.”

Hazel’s pupils are dilated when her eyes meet yours, “You’re serious?”

“Hmm,” you hum, leaving a mark of lip gloss on her skin, “Like I would leave the best girlfriend in the world for someone else like that.”

She squirms in your grip, swallowing hard and trying to keep from stuttering and you can't help the giggle that escapes as you notice a shiver run through her.

“You’re doing that on purpose,” she whines.

“I’m not,” you shrug, innocently, “I’m just kissing it better.”

You think Hazel never really realized the effect her touch has on you until one day at the library.

There's no club meeting today, so when you make your way to the library after your last class, your girlfriend follows along beside you excitedly, rambling about her day and waving your hands together as you walk down the halls.

You had to study for a history test, so you find a table in the back where you like to stay while Hazel looks for a book nearby to entertain herself.

You just spend less than an hour focusing on memorizing dates and names your teacher sent to the next test before your ears pick up the clink of Hazel's rings against the antique wood of the table.

Your gaze shifts away without even realizing it, focusing on Hazel's drumming and immersed expression.

“Have any of your rings ever fallen off?” You ask with sudden curiosity, even after months together this had never occurred to you.

“Huh?” She lifts her head, “Oh, yes. Lots of them.”

Hazel stops for a moment to check it and adjust some looseness and you gently take the hand with the ring you gave her, running your thumb over the silly little smiley face plastered on it.

“I never take that one off,” she smiles.

“I noticed,” you laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up, “You might end up breaking your finger over this, you know? Or someone’s nose.”

“I was trying to be romantic,” Hazel snorts.

“Sorry, love,” you lean across the table closer to her, looking between the plastic ring, “I just gave that to you as a silly joke.”

Hazel tilts her head, that confused and bit sad puppy expression back on her face.

“Yeah?”

You nod, “One day I’ll give you a real one, with a real gem,” You can feel Hazel staring at you, her jaw is probably dropped, but you settle for shaking her hand, “A blue one. Will suit you.”

“You think so?” She sighs.

“Of course,” you find yourself saying, “I’ll give you the most beautiful one, the first one everyone will notice when they look at you.”

You look up to find Hazel. Just Hazel. With soft eyes, bright smile and hands full of rings.

There were moments – moments like this – when it felt like there were only the two of you in the world, when you couldn't see or feel anything but Hazel and you drowned in her completely.

Taking a deep breath, she leans over the table, hand letting go of yours to slide down your arm. You swear your skin crawls.

“Babe?” Hazel calls; you notice how she keeps her voice low for fear of ruining the moment, even though she's so clearly nervous.

You open your mouth and nothing comes out, the touch on your skin is cold but it feels like it's burning you from the inside out. What did you come here to do in the first place?

Hazel leans back under the forgotten book and you grab her wrist when she moves to keep her close.

“I– I would like that,” she says, eyes wide and face flushed, “Sounds good, I mean.”

"You deserve it. You deserve this and more, love,” You’re not really sure what ‘more’ is, especially for someone who can buy anything they want like Hazel. Maybe it’s all she wanted, all you could offer her; maybe it’s just you.

Hazel squeezes your hand, leaning in closer and running her thumb over your knuckles so gently that the noise you make is embarrassing. You think she's going to kiss you and maybe she would have, if it weren't for the angry shush! coming from the librarian near the bookshelves next to you two.

She only mentions it days later, when you're back in her bed, curled up in a familiar way while Hazel scrolls through her phone.

Her fingers are running through your hair, almost lulling you to sleep and you feel like you could do the same as the cat at the foot of the bed and melt into a purring puddle under her touch.

“You have a thing for my hands,” she comments out of nowhere, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere, a giggle in her tone.

“What?” You ask confused, using your arms to lean against her chest, “I do not.”

You know it's not true, but denying it is better than admitting something like that. Hazel gives you a look; she knows you better than that.

“But you do,” Hazel turns you in her arms and you let out a surprised squeak at the action when she finds yourself on top of you.

You shake your head, refusing to give in, but she runs her cold hands under your shirt, resting on the warm skin of your belly – this seems to be one of her favorite things to do.

“Jeez!” You hiss, “How can you be so cold all the time? You’re like a lizard.”

“Oh, I love lizards!”

“Haze!”

You squirm in her grip, but Hazel holds firm, an unusual confidence behind her actions.

“Admit it,” she asks with a smirk, “You have a thing for my hands.”

“I have a thing for you.”

The cocky little smile she has every time she touches you for the next week is totally worth it – and it's also totally kissable.

#hazel callahan #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #bottoms movie #hazel bottoms #denwrites

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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month

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Escape Is Mandatory

platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Summary: prison changed Spencer, and along with it were a couple of horrible choices bau!reader refused to tolerate, hence a threat to their years of friendship. But all of it disappeared as soon as an unsub threatened your life.

Warning: details of death, violence, and infidelity; curse word(s)

A/N: I can't believe it has been over a year since I posted this mini-series (me just disappearing out of nowhere, lol). This draft has been sitting for a year. I never published it because it felt boring (I still do, somehow), but I wanted to celebrate the series reaching a year old HAHA! Anywaysss, as usual, this might be heavy, so be mindful when reading. It's not my gif; credits to the owner :)

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Luther Gerard grinned maniacally, leaning against his seat, "Let me guess... sister? Oh, but she's too pretty to be related to you." His cuffed hand caressed your picture on the table, "Lover, perhaps?"

Spencer's jaw clenched, "Where. Is. She?" His palms were itchy, breathing steadily as he kept them flat on the table.

This unsub was unlike any other serial killer he had encountered. Luther Gerard, age 38, is an average plumber but one hell of a genius, almost as dangerously intelligent as Spencer, with 186 IQ.

Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified to the bone. Because this time, the unsub had 83.248% outsmarting him, and the victim was you.

"Anyone wanna hear how I picked her up?" Luther glanced at the two-sided mirror, chuckling, "I'll take the silence as a yes."

He looked at Spencer straight in his eyes, "It was dim, but not too much. She was 40 feet away from the precinct entrance... 15 from you. She looked pretty mad when she turned her back, but she looked so hurt walking away. I can remember her tears. Oh, they were sweet and just a little salty. She knew I was there for her. She was going to scream for you. But what can I say? She was a second too slow. I was going to get your attention but she looked so good unconscious in my arms."

"You sick son of a bitch—"

It took Luke, Matt, and three police officers to hold Spencer back. His face was red, and Luke swore he was breathing fire. His knuckles were white as he grabbed Luke's shirt and a bit of the skin on Matt's arm.

Spencer escaped from being pinned by five people with minimal struggle, grabbing Luther's collar to the point of suffocation. "Where the hell is she?! Tell me where!"

Luther laughed out loud, watching as Spencer crumbled into an angry mess. "Listen here, Dr. Reid... you can be a point smarter than me as long as you can, but she will always be two points dumber than me. She'll die in that fucking warehouse."

Emily barged into the interrogation room, "Reid." She gestured at Matt to take him out of the room, leaving Luke to get the answers they'd been looking for the past five hours.

Spencer aggressively shrugged Matt's hands on his shoulders, "I can walk," His voice grew a little softer than seconds ago, but his tone still crunched with anger.

As soon as the door shut, Spencer turned to Emily, "She's dying out there."

"You're not the only one who's worried. She's our friend, too, you know. But we won't find her if you let your emotions take over you." Emily took a deep breath, giving him a concerned look.

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. I'm scared." He dropped his head, letting a cruel sigh pass his shivering lips.

Despite his attempt to reinsert himself in the interrogation room, Emily forbade him from coming in contact with the unsub for the rest of the evening. So, he stood next to JJ in the conference room, trying to save you in the best way he knew how: geographic profiling.

"I should've known," Spencer mumbled under his breath.

JJ turned to him, "Did you find something?" She scanned the board in front of them, hoping that she'd see what Spencer was seeing.

Spencer loosened his tie, "The victims. The location. I should've figured it out the moment we briefed about the case. It should've clicked." He guiltily looked at JJ, "I should've kept her safe."

"Spence," JJ spoke motherly. "None of us knew she was the target. You have to know that none of this is your fault." She gave him a kind look, something he knew well to differ whether it was out of pity or genuine compassion.

"But it is my fault..." He averted his eyes from her. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in their eyes, much less the thought of yours, filled with tears from his stupidity.

JJ's eyebrows gently knitted, "Did something happen the last time you saw her?"

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

2 days ago...

The afternoon's fifth hour barely struck, yet the sky was already dark. The lampposts around the precinct were enough light to at least keep you and Spencer from tripping.

None of you have said a word for the past three minutes. You even missed Emily's nod. Both of you were too occupied to care. You: with the obscene sight you just witnessed and the burning itch to smack the back of his head. Spencer: with whatever internal conflict he was going through after coming back from prison, he refused to talk to anyone about.

With every step away from the might as well named crime scene, your lips slowly unfastened. Spencer had barely clicked the SUV's key when you began.

"She's married."

"She's unhappily married."

Your eyebrows clashed, "That's not an excuse, Reid. Your wrinkly brain knows that."

"Can't you just mind your own business?" Spencer rolled his eyes, treating your conversation lighter than you wanted him to.

"I would have if only you did," You looked at him with utter disbelief. No amount of blinking would erase the sight forever etched in the back of your curse of a photographic memory. "Her unhappy marriage was her business. That was her and her husband's business."

Spencer was growing impatient with you. The signs were easy to catch. His knotted forehead. Thoughtless glare. Clenched hands deep in his pockets. An obvious Spencer-is-pissed-at-you special tell.

He straightened his back, "I was just helping her out."

"Holy shit—" You scoffed a baffled chuckle, "Are you hearing yourself? Adultery and sympathy are not the same, Reid. What the hell has gotten into your head?"

Ordinary people wouldn't have cared. Luke and Matt would disagree and judge Spencer's stupid choices but would've kept their mouths shut. Emily and David would spit a bit of advice on how morally wrong he was, but they would have minded their own business for the most part. Tara would've been disgusted but refused to get herself involved. JJ and Penelope would have been utterly disappointed and angry at him, but they wouldn't have missed a chance to make up with him.

You, however, felt nauseatingly repugnant. Years of friendship felt like a thin layer of ice loudly breaking. He knew most of your uninteresting and failed romance. How often has he lent you a back to bury your face on? The number of times he's caught not two but four of your short-term lovers shamelessly cheating. He knew well enough, too much even.

"You know what I think?" He chuckled evilly. And you knew then he was aiming for your throat. "I think you're just jealous because you don't have the aptitude to get over your dead boyfriend."

Your jaw dropped. You half-expected him to say those words, but it still surprised you. It still stung. Your tears were fighting to flow, but you had enough self-respect to not do it before him, not with his shitty attitude, at least.

You gripped the hem of your blazer, "You're a jerk. That's what you are." You took a sharp breath, biting the overflowing ache on your chest. "Come back when you've got something for the case."

A second didn't pass after you turned your back on him, and the tears immediately trailed down your face. You walked out of the parking lot as fast as you could. Crying in front of your childhood classmates felt more gratifying than in front of Spencer.

Wiping the unwanted tears from your cheeks, your feet came to a halt without warning. Something about the fifteen-foot distance from Spencer's back and the forty-foot gap from the entrance to the precinct left you terrifyingly vulnerable.

Your gears began turning.

Victims were awfully close to your build.

You're in your hometown.

And it clicked a second too late.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Spence!" JJ gently shook Spencer back to reality. As soon as she knew he was back down to earth, she immediately spoke, "They found another body—"

Spencer flew out of the door before JJ could even finish speaking. He went to Luke, who was on his way to one of the SUVs. "Where?" He asked in a rush. His heart was beating right in his ear. A series of negative thoughts filled his head.

Luke had a few seconds to tell Spencer where the said body was but quickly interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "We don't know anything yet, Reid."

"But what if it's her?" Spencer snapped. He had little patience for anyone. All he knew was how important it was to see a body that's not you.

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

"Fuck!" You cried in a shattered voice.

Tears flowed nonstop down your face, along with your own blood dripping from the top of your horribly bandaged head. Luther Gerard was evil enough to let you bleed slowly to death.

Unbeknownst to him, you were the most stubborn person in the entire BAU team. You bled your way out of the place he locked you in, cursing the pain off your chest.

You have been loosening the barbwire wrapped around your feet with your bare hands for the past hour. Your hands and your feet had gotten skinned off from the sharp metal.

Hope was on your side, though, as you felt your left foot painfully slide off the wrap. You cried out in joy, holding your ankles tight as if the pain would immediately dissipate.

You wiped your tears off your face, smearing blood from your palm onto your skin. You laughed, already delirious from lack of blood. "I'm going to break your neck once I find you. Then I'll beat the hell out of Reid for taking his goddamn time."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer felt relief wash over him as soon as he glanced at the lifeless woman being pulled out of the creek. It may have been messed up that he was thankful a different woman died, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

He and Luke drove back to the precinct with a little less tense chests. They may not have found you, but the fact that you weren't the body they found meant one thing. You were still alive. That's all that mattered.

"We'll find her," Luke broke the silence between them, glancing at Spencer from his peripheral. "She's stubborn. She won't let anyone hurt her without punching back. She's probably on her way back to the precinct." He attempted to lighten the mood.

Spencer took a deep breath, "She better be." He looked outside of the car, biting his lower lip. "She has to escape wherever she is. It's mandatory. I'm not letting her die without finishing our argument."

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

It's been two days of searching every nook and cranny of your little hometown, but the team hasn't gotten anywhere in finding you.

Each member was exhausted, especially Spencer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't even if he tried to.

They were running out of ideas. But like every single cases the BAU team had, you knew how to turn things around. Their wake snapped up as gasps echoed in the entire precinct.

The team rushed to see the commotion and almost burst into tears as soon as they saw you.

"Oh my god..." JJ whimpered under her breath as she clasped her mouth.

You stood there by the entrance, bloodied up and half-conscious. You held the door's handle tight, painting it with your dirty blood as it kept you up on your feet. They could barely recognize your face from the mixture of blood and dirt on your face.

Despite your pitiful, bloodied state, you managed to show them your temper. "You better have caught that bastard." You growled weakly.

Your body was shaking from exhaustion. Just as you slipped out of consciousness, Spencer rushed to catch your body.

Tara called for a medic while Emily went to your aid. Luke and Matt went straight to work things out and give Gerard the worst news he's ever going to receive: it turns out you weren't as dumb as he wanted you to be.

Spencer gently wiped your face with his sleeve. He didn't care if it was his favorite shirt. All he cared about was how his best friend stubbornly stayed alive.

When Emily sat next to him to keep you off the floor, she saw just how much your friendship meant to Spencer. She squeezed his shoulder, "She's back safe with us, Reid. She'll be alright."

Her words prompted Spencer's sobs, tears trickling onto your face in hopes that it would wash the hell you went through for the past days. He quickly wiped them off, though. He knew well enough how you'd react to his 'filthy tears' coming in contact with your skin.

"Yeah, you better clean it off," You mumbled with your eyes closed, gripping the hem of his cardigan vest. You couldn't let yourself pass out, knowing you had a severe wound on your head.

Spencer choked a laugh, "Took you long enough. I thought I would have to save your ass." He sniffed as he let the paramedics transfer you onto a crash cart.

You scoffed, turning into a short series of coughs. "Just admit it. You can't figure things out without my brain power. Your brain's getting smooth, Reid. Prodigy no more."

The team couldn't help but roll their eyes at you and Spencer's banter, bouncing back faster than your recovery. Although they hated to admit it, they preferred the two of you that way rather than apart.

"I'm glad you're safe..." Spencer's voice became softer. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. This was the second time he'd cried nonstop. The first time being the love of his life's death.

He was glad this time wasn't due to someone important's death. He didn't know how he'd handle it if the person he could always rely on would leave him of this world.

As you were dragged into the ambulance, you gave all the rest of your strength to glare at Spencer. "Don't think you're off the record. After I deal with Gerard, you're next."

"Is it mandatory?" He sarcastically stated, jumping into the ambulance the moment you were settled in. He couldn't bear to leave you out of his sight.

#ssa spencer reid #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #criminalminds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid x self insert #fem!reader #dr spencer reid #platonic #spencer x reader #spencerreid

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eternally-racing · 4 months

Text

off limits | logan sargeant

pairing: logan sargeant x Leclerc! reader

genre: fluff, maybe angst if you squint

wc: 1.6k

warnings: none (i think)

summary: Your brother Charles always likes to say you're off limits, but what happens when you finally meet a driver who doesn't know who you are?

- - - - - -

“You remember my little sister, Y/N right?”

You roll your eyes as Charles keeps a protective arm around your shoulders. He’s acting like you’re in a room of men who all want to get in your pants, when in reality your brother has kept you locked away from the rest of the grid as best he can over the last few years. It made sense when you were younger, but it’s definitely gotten on your nerves, especially on days like today. It was the end of season party, and having your brother attached to your hip at the club was I’m sure not your or his ideal plan. You had begged for him to let you come - you said it was only fair as a trade off since he made you listen to his rants pre and post-race all season long. You get that motorsports is his world and you’re only a guest, but a little more friendship on the grid wouldn’t hurt.

You’ve noticed yourself get a couple more looks over as you’ve grown up over the years, and when Lando walks over and wolf whistles as he shamelessly checks you out, your brother is already telling him to watch it while he watches the British driver give you a hug. “You know where to find me, pretty girl” Lando finishes with a wink before he heads off to join the rest of his friends. It’s all good fun between you two and you know it’s nothing but playful banter as you both like to get under your brother’s skin, but Charles doesn’t seem to quite feel the same as he’s shooting daggers at the curly haired boy walking away from you both.

Charles has always been overprotective of you, especially around the other boys in motorsport. He’d say that none of them would ever be worth your time, that he sees the way they go through women like crazy and that the way they treat their partners would never be good enough for his darling baby sister. Through his years on the grid he had made it clear to everyone that you are and will always be off limits, something that has always irked you to no end. You were more than old enough to make your own decisions, though it seems like Charles will always see you as his little sister.

There’s only one other boy that Charles let you get close to over the years ("let" is a stretch, it was more a reluctant acceptance as it happened), and you can’t help but smile as he walks towards the two of you with open arms. Max and you became friends one day as kids when you scraped your knee on the pavement at a karting race while running away from Charles and he stopped to help you find your parents while you were sobbing - the rest was history.He may have had his ups and downs with your brother, but Max was someone that you knew you could always count on when it mattered. He puts on his best fake bodyguard voice as he comes up to you and Charles and says “Is this man bothering you, young lady?”, earning a laugh from you and an eye roll from your brother.

Soon you’re begging the Dutchman to save you from Charles’ wrath, and luckily with the promise of being his padel partner in the new year he quickly agrees. Charles tries to put up a bit of a fight but before you know it he’s yelling “make good choices” as he’s being whisked away to get a gin and tonic with his self-appointed drinking buddy for the night.

It’s been so long since you’ve been at one of these events, let alone been able to walk around without your brother, so it feels very much like unfamiliar territory. A vodka cran seems like a good place to start, and you settle in easily at the bar while surveying the scene in front of you. Maybe Charles was right, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into - there’s so many people everywhere and everyone seems to know everyone. There’s got to be a few faces you know in this sea of people, like George’s girlfriend or Danny’s sister, the only problem is getting through it. You’re doing a good job staying under the radar as you squeeze through the crowd until you find yourself colliding head first with someone, your drink absolutely flying into their chest.

All you can think is “fuck, I should’ve drank a gin and tonic instead too” as you rub mercilessly at the red liquid on the mystery boy’s chest with the one flimsy napkin the bar gave you. It’s only when he replies back with “It’s seriously okay, gin and tonics taste like shit anyways.” in an accent that you can’t quite pin down do you realize that you accidentally have been talking out loud. Your cheeks are beet red and you’re starting to miss the comfort of having your older brother around you.

“I’m Logan” the boy in front of you says with a smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You don’t think you’ve ever said yes to something faster in your life.

The conversation flows so naturally between you and Logan. It makes sense that you’ve never met him before today - he’s new on the grid and doesn’t seem to be close with any of Charles' friends. The freedom you feel is refreshing - it’s been a long time since you got to know a guy like this, just one on one talking to each other. Of course there had been the blind dates that your friends had tried to set you up on but there were all just a little bit off. None of them felt like this.

“I meant to ask you earlier, did you come with someone to the party tonight?”

The question makes you freeze up because you’re having to face the reality that Logan may be one of the only people who don’t know that Charles is your brother in this entire party. Is it selfish that you want it to stay that way?

“Oh, um, I came with a friend of a friend who dragged me here tonight.” The lie falls off your lips all too easily and you’re not even sure why you did it. Logan had been nothing but a gentleman all night and you don’t think he would treat you differently for being Charles’ little sister. Maybe you just wanted to see it for yourself, what could happen when people didn’t feel threatened around you because of your older brother. Luckily, Logan doesn’t think twice about your response and you’re grateful for that.

The bass booming through the club is making you start to wiggle in your seat, and it’s enough to make Logan laugh and ask you if you want to dance. Who could say no to that American smile? You’re dragging him up to dance, shimmying your shoulders in a way that only confirms that you’re as bad of a dancer as you mentioned to Logan earlier in your conversation. At first it’s all so playful, Logan twirling you around and hyping you up, but as the music gets more sultry you and Logan do as well. It’s like there’s two magnets pulling you both together until you’re pressed chest to chest. Logan’s hand around your waist just feels so right. Your heart is beating so fast you’re worried that he might actually be able to hear it himself - he’s so close to you that you can feel the heat from his breath on your neck. The conversation has slowed between you two but you feel like you understand him perfectly. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the boy in front of you that’s making your cheeks so red, but you know that you don’t want this feeling to stop.

“Will you kiss me, Logan?” you’re looking at him like you can see the universe in his eyes, and simultaneously hoping that he can't see how nervous you are in yours.

You’re trying not to get carried away, but it’s hard not to. Kissing Logan just feels so right. You grab his shirt by the front in an effort to get closer to him, you want to feel him, and Logan reciprocates by pressing his hands even further into the dimples on your back. You’re not sure how long you go on like this, you both making out like love-sick teenagers. All you know is that you can’t get enough of him, and based on the way Logan reaches out to caress your cheek, you hope he feels the same. You’re trying to memorize every single part of him, just in case this is all you get to have of him. As his hands start to dip lower and lower your heart beats even faster, and you let your hands trail further down his chest along with the tempo of the music. This moment feels infinite.

It’s not until you feel a hand on your shoulder that the spell is broken as the two of you are shoved apart. Logan reaches to pull you behind him, but once you see a pair of green eyes that are identical to yours staring you both down, it’s him that you want to protect.

“What the fuck are you doing to my sister, Sargeant?"

----

author's note: this was such a fun one to write! i think a part 2 to this could be a lil crazy and fun so let me know if you want that too <3

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nomadwrites · 3 months

Text

bubblegum pink ⋆˚✿

gojo satoru

summary ⋆୨୧⋆ in which you've managed to convince the greatest jujutsu sorcerer of your time into getting pink highlights. what could go wrong? a lot, you learn.

contents ⋆୨୧⋆ spoilers!, pure fluff & rusty writing

notes ⋆୨୧⋆ let's start off easy, shall we? feedback is most certainly welcome & would be much appreciated! enjoy ₊˚ෆ

"come on, it's only temporary!"

"not a chance! do you know how much time and effort i put into caring for these lustrous locks?"

"it'll grow out anyways," you huff, setting down the contents of the hair dye kit on the bathroom counter. "and here i thought you were the adventurous type."

"adventure is one thing, but this? this would be an act of vandalism," satoru feigns a look of betrayal, silver lashes framing his wide blue orbs, "like defacing the mona lisa."

you gasp in exaggeration, clasping a hand over your mouth. if there was one thing on the boy’s long list of things he loved about you, it'd be your ability to keep up with his personality.

"sure. but don't you get tired of always having the same old hairstyle? maybe it'd be nice to switch it up every now and then, yknow?"

"i hardly doubt anyone could ever get tired of this." he gestures to himself, standing tall, a smirk gracing his features.

“you’re insufferable.”

“and you love that about me.”

you do your best to hide the smile that threatens to break free, chewing on your bottom lip. “oh but you’d look absolutely gorgeous,” you plead, voice dripping with honey as you cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the countertop. you bat your lashes at him, round doe eyes peering into sparkling azure pools.

the look you give him makes his heart do flips and his gaze softens ever so slightly. he can't say no to you, not when you're gazing up at him with those puppy-dog eyes of yours. you’re perfectly aware of the effect you have on him, but that’s not to say you’d ever take advantage of him. if anything, you’re just as smitten.

satoru adores gratifying you, answering to your every beck and call, no matter the request, even if they can be a little odd at times. who was he to deny you anything when you looked so entrancing?

he pretends to ponder, drumming his fingers along the cool ceramic of the sink counter. if you're quiet enough, you might hear the way the gears in his head shift as he puts on a show of overtly dramatised deliberation. it almost makes you snort, but after a minute or two of silence, he caves in, shoulders slumping.

"if it makes you happy," he breathes, flicking his gaze back to you as you perk up with excitement, light practically radiating off of you. he might come to regret this in a few hours, but when he sees the way your eyes sparkle with a radiance that seems so pure, he thinks it won’t be so bad. after all, it is only temporary.

"just so i get to hear it again," he pauses, slender fingers intertwining with yours as he guides you over to him and plops down onto the closed seat of the toilet, long legs splayed on either side of you. "you think i'm gorgeous?"

“not quite yet,” you say, running your fingers through his silver locks, admiring the soft lavender undertones. his glasses are sitting just above the tip of his nose, brilliant sapphire depths on full display. no matter how many times you’ve looked him in the eye,, it always manages to knock the air out of your lungs. “i’ll see what i can do.”

“aren’t you a sweetheart?”

“i am.”

he exhales, humming in agreement as he relaxes under your touch and relishes in the scent of your skin, not the fragrance of perfume or shampoo, but you.

this is nice, you think. free time has always been hard to come by, even more so for gojo than you. things had changed after the star plasma vessel incident. he had changed, and although he did his best to hide it, you knew better. you were there to ground him, to remind him of his humanity and his purpose for becoming a sorcerer. you were there to keep him afloat.

"so!" you clap, startling him enough to knock his glasses askew, "let's get started!"

"booo," he pouts, like some child. he likes to think you're like this because of him, that you've spent so much time with him you've essentially become a miniature satoru gojo. the thought of it makes him feel all warm and mushy inside, something he really only feels with you, despite how popular he is with people.

you get to work, skimming through the pamphlet of instructions. satoru attempts to help you, mostly by staring whilst seated on the toilet, questioning if you really knew what you were doing. you stick out your tongue at him as did he, tugging on his lower eyelid.

you manage to end up with a bowl of bright pink sludge, the scent of chemicals wafting through the enclosed space of your bathroom. satoru grimaces, both at the smell and how awfully pigmented the dye seemed, cautiously eyeing the mixture held between your gloved hands.

“no turning back now.”

“you’re sure this is temporary?”

“mhmm!” you say, throwing a towel over his shoulders to shield his black linen shirt from any stray drops of hair dye. contrary to popular belief, the all-powerful jujutsu sorcerer doesn’t make use of his infinity when there was no real need to, his reasoning something akin to him wanting to experience moments of normalcy with those close to him.

“i’m great aren’t i? strong, handsome with a heart of gold,” he’d said, standing in akimbo.

“in an alternate universe, sure.”

you smile at the memory, recalling the way he tutted when you responded, earning chuckles from both shoko and geto.

“y’know on second thought–” satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “maybe blue would be a better option? make my eyes pop and all that,” he stalls, turning to look at you.

“it’s not gonna be this bright toru, it’ll be a lot lighter once we rinse you off. besides, i’ve only got pink right now–“

“great! so we should–“

“but you already said we could–“

and you’re both tugging, trying to grab ahold of the bowl. “toru stop it! you’re gonna–“

splat.

"ah," he blinks.

silence falls between the both of you, letting the sound of droplets hitting the floor echo loud in your ears. you’re wide eyed in disbelief, and it takes you a moment before you press your lips together in a futile attempt to conceal the snort that bubbles from your throat.

———————-

“don’t you look pretty?” geto teases, snapping a photo of satoru’s lifeless body as he sits limp at his desk, looking as if his soul had left his body. you’re sure it did last night after rinsing him off in the shower, fully clothed, the sight of him drenched in fuchsia finding a permanent home in your brain. shoko echoes after the raven-haired boy, resting her head on a closed fist.

satoru’s once moonlit hair now a splotchy mess of soft pink, the hair dye staining his eyebrows an even brighter shade of bubblegum. you had to practically drag him out the bathroom by the feet afterward.

“what have you done?” he whined, voice breaking.

“me?!” you gasped, “you had a part to play in this too!”

it was a miracle he’d even changed out of his wet clothes, albeit it taking around an hour or so. you’re sure he laid on the floor for the rest of the night after you’d left, geto being the first to find him in the exact same position this morning. thankfully, you hadn’t had to drag him to class.

at the very least, this would be another fond memory you’d share together.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #nomadwrites

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mayfieldss · 4 months

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Lessons in chemistry - Peter Parker

Synopsis: Your best friend Peter tries to teach you how to skateboard, but distractions occur.

AN: it's one in the morning, and I gave in to the delusions. They have taken me in as one of their own, and they said they would let me go if i posted this.

"You gotta trust me, okay?" Peter's got one foot on the skateboard, holding it steady as you stand a fair distance away, hesitant and unsure why you agreed to this particular day.

Peter had offered to teach you to skateboard, and while the offer seemed perfectly reasonable and fun at the time, being here now was an entirely different story. You were beyond clumsy and hopeless when it came to learning new things. Peter knew this, yet he seemed so certain you could do this one activity.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Peter." You're squinting as the sun beats down at you, and the concrete you stand on currently seems far too menacing to learn to skate on. Peter had originally offered to start you out on grass, but to do that you would have had to go somewhere more public to find some, being in new york and all, and you weren't fond of embarrassing yourself in front of more than just Peter.

"Just c'mere." Peter is waving you over to him, and the gentle smile on his lips is enough to bribe you closer.

"Okay, now give me your hands."

You do as you're told, and he gives your hands an encouraging squeeze.

"I'm holding the board steady. It shouldn't go anywhere when you get on, okay?" He's trying to make you feel better, but the anxiety within you picks apart his words.

"It shouldn't, but it might." You mumble, eyes down on the board, glaring harshly at its existence.

"Can you just trust me madame pessimism?" There's a humorous sigh that falls from him as you get up the courage to step on the board, and when you do, it seems okay.

"See? There you go. The first step is done." Peter squeezes your hand again, and you wobble a little on the board despite Peter keeping it from rolling away.

"Well, this was fun. Time to go home now." It comes off as a joke, but you're more than serious as Peter shakes his head.

"Give it a chance."

You look up at him, and you're oddly close. With your hands in his, it's almost as though you're about to dance under the old overpass at which you stand. "Okay, Parker, I trust you." You mean it, but that doesn't mean you're at all comfortable with what you're about to do. Part of you wishes you'd stayed home, while the other is glad to be here with Peter.

"I'm gonna take my foot away from the board now, okay? It's gonna roll a little, but I got you so don't worry."

"I'm worrying Peter."

He laughs. A beautiful laugh and a wonderful smile accompanying it before he begins the fated count down. "On three, one, two–" he lets the board free, and you don't move much, being on flat ground and all, but still the slight adjustment freaks you out just a little. Again, you sway on the board, and Peter holds you steady.

"I hate this so much." You whine, unable to contain the true depth of your feelings. The situation is so far out of your comfort zone that it feels as though your skin is crawling with you inside it.

"Well, it's not like I can tell or anything. I mean, you look like you're having a great time. You know, with the tense shoulders and genuine panic in your eyes, I would have assumed you were having fun or something." his sarcasm does little to ease you, but it's so truly Peter. So authentic to his person that you can almost imagine yourself standing on flat ground beside him, rather than supported by the wheels of his old and flimsy skateboard.

"Let's just get this over with." You try for a smile, but it's hard to do, every muscle in your body preoccupied with trying to stay as still as possible.

"We're gonna try and move now, just a little."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Peter laughs "fuck."

And just like that, you're rolling along, heart beating quickly as Peter sends encouragements. You're stable for a few moments before you get into your head and feel yourself tilting backward. Letting go of his hands, you rush to grasp Peter's shoulders, his hands falling to your waist as he pulls you toward him and off the board.

"Woah, okay, that was a good first attempt."

You're gripping him tight, too tight, as the board rolls away from you both. Peter will go get it later, but for now he's with you.

"I almost died." You mutter, a death grip on Peter's jacket.

"You were fine." Peter chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. You accept it, despite the fact you're slightly upset with him for making you do this. And when you pull back, squinting up at him you lose all the stress from before.

Peter loses himself entirely, thinking things nowhere near the topic of skateboarding and closer to the topic of kissing.

"You did great... really great." Peter insists one hand running down your back as he tries to stop the thoughts racing through his head. He'd always liked you, as more than a friend. He'd always wanted to wake up beside you, hold your hand, take you to prom. He'd always wanted you.

He clears his throat, and you look away from him, almost disappointed.

"You want to try again?" He asks, trying to get back on track. You shake your head and look back to him, and in your eyes, he sees something different. A sort of confidence.

"What do I get if I do?" You're teasing him. He thinks you are, at least, but the mischief you're offering is tempting.

"What do you want?"

"A dinner date, somewhere where there's pasta." You answer, so sure of yourself, and Peter's brain freezes up.

"A date as in a date or...?" He sounds so stupid like this, and he realizes just how close he still is to you. Where his hands are placed softly on your hips and where your fingers hold fast to his shoulders.

"Whatever you want it to be, Peter. Now, if we have a deal, I would like to try again." You look to the direction the skateboard had gone and see it paused a small distance away, but you don't get to retrieve it. Before you can, Peter's hand comes up to your face, fingers placed gently on your jaw to turn your gaze back his way.

It's not what you expect from him, and in honesty, it's not what Peter expects from himself either but he leans in closer, pausing just long enough for you to pull away if you want to.

"Do it." You whisper, your breath brushing over his lips, as if painting the grin that spreads onto his face.

The kiss is gentle, his nose bumping awkwardly with yours as he leans closer, closing the gap. He can feel the heat in your cheeks when he places his hands there, thumb brushing over the skin as he breathes you in. Your fingers grip his shoulders harder now, moving up toward his neck to hold him closer, and there's something about the way you move with him so perfectly that makes him think this can't possibly be real. But it is, and when he pulls back for air, he examines your features, hoping for your reaction. You speak first, before he can.

"That was weird," you say, breaking his heart a little. "But in a good way. I'd like to try it again sometime, if that's okay with you?" You mend the break easily, and soon he's grinning again, one hand finding it's way into your hair.

"It's definitely okay with me." Peter mumbles, eyes drifting back down to your lips in anticipation.

"Should I book a time with your secretary for our next appointment?" Your head tilts to the side as you watch every expression that crosses his face. He's beautiful, definitely, and his heart is yours.

"As a matter of fact, I have an hour or two free right now. I was skateboarding with this girl I really like, but I think her mind is wandering elsewhere."

You smack him hard on the arm, but before you can remark anything back, he's kissing you again, sending you into a blissful silence.

You're learning very little about skateboarding, but it seems your time is well spent anyway. Peter doesn't care how long he's here for, and he'll forget his skateboard under the overpass in favor of walking you home. He'll hold your hand the whole way there and kiss you goodbye on the doorstep before he leaves. He'll have everything he's ever wanted by the end of the day, skateboard or not, and that's more than okay with him.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

MARVEL GENERAL: @5kyyyy

TASM PETER PARKER: @arignipanja574 @winter-soldier-vibes

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bugsbia · 7 months

Text

Roommate Scaramouche x Reader smut

ʚ maybe your roommate has hidden motives behind his constant annoyances

ʚ BEFORE READING: Established. Dom scara with fem sub reader. Tired reader after a day of shitty classes. Scara is a bit of a brat. Usage of slut, fingering. mating press (although not specified to be such). Overstim. Orgasm Denial.

You just got home from a long day of classes, feeling tired and utterly annoyed at how irritating some of your classmates are, but only did your annoyance get worse upon seeing your roommate.

Scaramouche, your tease of a roomate. Always trying to get under your skin, trying every way he can to just get on your nerves for some sort of sick kick. The smirk across his face as he sat on the couch told you everything, he wasn't going to be any nicer today just because you were tired.

"hah... tired already? That'll make this fun." He mused as he stood up, slinking towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder, all so he could get on your nerves.

A groan fell from your lips as you pushed him off, grumbling like an old lady who can't figure out how to use the tv remote "quit touching me jackass, you're so annoying."

He feigned heartache "so rude to me, and yet here I am just trying to comfort my tired roomie!" he turned away, shrugging and going back to his own thing. He relented for now, but that would only last so long.

You quickly went into your room, wanting nothing more but to finally get out of these stupid clothes and relax in bed. You stripped down and put on a simple nightgown before settling down in your cozy little bed, scrolling through random tiktoks and tweets to satiate your boredom.

Your peace didn't last long as Scaramouche walked into your room without knocking, as if he owned the damn place. He let out a small chuckle upon seeing the way you're cuddled up beneath your blankets. "Hiding from me, are you?"

"God, no. Just go away, I'm tired." you retort, the annoyance in your voice evident to Scara, but that didn't stop him from pulling the covers off of you in one foul swoop.

Gasping in response you quickly tried to cover yourself a bit more, your nightgown not leaving a whole lot to the imagination. "Scaramouche! what is your god damn problem?!" you squealed.

His eyes widened slightly upon noticing your clothing, but that wide-eye shock quickly turned to a mix of arousal at how much he liked the way your body looked, and amusement at how he caught you so off guard.

"You seem stressed and so worn out, How about I help you... relieve some stress, so to speak." he said as he winked, making his intentions obvious. It made your angry that he'd even dare to ask that... but the growing arousal between your thighs was undeniable.

The two of you had always had a sort of attraction to one another, but your annoyance towards his teasing attitude and his reluctance to open up meant neither of you brought it up, until now that is.

"Are you serious?" You question, surely he was just teasing? Just another one of his stupid games to get under your skin... right? That's what you thought till he moved on top of you, his knee pressed up against you wettening pussy as he grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

"Dead serious" he responded, and without even giving you a moment to respond his lips crashed down onto yours. His tongue prodding at your lips, asking, almost begging for your permission to enter your mouth, to taste you.

You relented, giving in to months worth of bottled up desire, kissing him back and parting your lips. Your tongues mingled, the kiss growing sloppy and desperate as you subconsciously began grinding against his knee.

He pulled back, the kiss leaving you both a little out of breath as he looked down at you, your cheeks flushed and brows furrowed ever so slightly. "You're getting so worked up... it's almost pathetic."

Moving swiftly he let go of your wrists and grabbed your thighs, spreading them apart so he could have a full view of your panties slowly becoming dampened by your wetness.

"Scara-'' you attempted to scold him for the embarrassing position he'd put you in, but you were quickly cut off when you felt two of his fingers drag down your clothed cunt. Gasping quietly as your hips automatically bucked up into his fingers, trying to chase the hint of pleasure he'd given.

He hushed you "Just be quiet, this'll get rid of your stress." He pulled your panties off, smirking as he gazed down at your wet and needy pussy, just begging for his touch.

Without waiting he got to work, rubbing your clit with one hand and using his other hand to slide two digits inside you, massaging your g-spot as he watched your reaction.

God did he love your reactions, the way your face contorted with pleasure as you tried to fight back a moan by biting your lip. Oh he adored how you so badly tried to fight your desire for him, it just made him want to break you down even more.

You grew closer to your release as he plunged his fingers in and out of you with fervor, teasing your sensitive clit to push you closer and closer, but as you neared your orgasm he pulled away. "don't stop! please!" you whined, being denied your release leaving you needy and so painfully desperate.

Exactly how he wanted you to be, he shoved his fingers into your mouth "Clean your filth off of them" he demanded harshly as he used his free hand to unzip his pants and release his throbbing cock.

As you sucked and licked his fingers clean of your own juices he positioned himself between your legs, his eager cock twitching while he admired the sight of you. Below him, so wet and so ready to be utterly devoured by him.

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth he wiped any remaining saliva on the blanket beneath you as he then held onto your hips tightly. "I'm gonna make you scream my name." he said in a husky tone.

He slowly entered you earning a small exhale from you as your walls stretched to accommodate his more than average size. "Fuck, you feel so good." he groaned as he began moving, slow strokes at first.

Soft moans began spilling from your lips as he moved inside of you, your pussy so sensitive from you previously denied orgasm. "Scara, more, need more." you cried out, just desperate for your sweet release as the tensenion inside you grew worse by the second, his slow movements almost tortuous.

"Want more? Fine, but you asked for this." He picked up his pace, ramming his cock hard and deep into you, your desperate pleas for release sending him absolutely reeling.

You let out an almost pornographic moan as he picked up the pace, feeling the way he slammed into you and reached the deepest parts of your pussy. At a loss for words from the overwhelming pressure you simply moaned and writhed beneath him, your impending orgasm closer than ever.

Scaramouche began feverishly rubbing at your clit, making the coil in your stomach snap. Your orgasm quickly washed over you, your thighs trembling as you moaned his name loudly, a ring of white forming at the base of his cock as your wetness combined with his precum.

Oh but he wasn't done, he hadn't gotten to cum yet and so his relentless thrusts didn't stop. "wait! is too much!" you whined at the oversensitivity you felt from his thrusts.

"Take it, we're not done till I say so." he chuckled darkly as pushed your thighs up against your chest, his cock only reaching deeper in this position which earnt whined high pitched moans from you.

He held you there, fucking into your overstimulated little cunt with desperation as he neared his own release. The sound of his groans, your moans and skin slapping echoing through the room as you both lose all semblances of care.

His thrusts grew sloppy, his cock twitching inside you due to his nearing orgasm. "Take it, take my cum you slut." he said darkly with a deep and hard thrust, shooting ropes of hot cum deep inside you. He chased out his orgasm, sloppy little thrusts as he emptied himself inside you.

You looked up at him through dazed eyes as he stopped his thrusts and slowly pulled out. "you're such a fucking mess" he said as he looked at your current state, hair all messy, cheeks flushed and eyes teary as his cum leaked out of your swollen and abused pussy. "so fucking perfect" he murmured as he got up off the bed and brushed his hair out of his face.

"Come on, we both need a shower." he said in a sweeter tone, offering to help you clean up from your messy little encounter.

#Scaramouche x reader #Scaramouche #scaramouche smut #Scaramouche x you #Scara #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x you #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin smut #smut #x reader #female reader #established relationship

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