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#she has a swing in her hips and she looks at him like
lousypotatoes · 2 days
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I've Got A Smile On My Face
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Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11
Song Recommendation:
Always - Irving Berlin
Warning! This chapter contains depictions of panic attacks, and graphic violence! If this triggers you or makes you uncomfy in any way shape or form, please read with caution.
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90 years ago...
It had been six months since Alastor kissed Y/N on her front porch. As expected, the two of them were now an item.
During the span of those six months, everything was absolutely perfect. The flower shop was thriving, Alastor's radio show was more popular than ever, Jasper didn't come by the shop since their interaction, and most importantly, Alastor and Y/N were so very much in love, Y/N felt that she fell more in love with him every time she saw him.
The only thing she didn't like about their relationship was the big secret she had to keep from him.
There were times that she oh so badly wanted to tell Alastor that her real job was killing people, and that running the flower shop was a cover up, but she was terrified that he was going to be disgusted with her, and leave her.
And Y/N didn't know what she would do if Alastor left.
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It was mid afternoon, almost noon. The weather outside was very rainy and very stormy. Y/N was arranging the shelves, making sure the flower buds were facing the front.
It always annoyed her when customers would look at flowers and not put them back the correct way.
When she was done, she walked to the register and counted the money.
She sighed. Business was very slow that day, obviously because of the rain. She had almost considered closing the shop up early and going home, but felt it was better to just stay, just in case any customers came in after the rain cleared up.
Sitting down the chair behind the counter, Y/N put her head in her hands, bored as ever.
Hopefully Alastor would come and visit her. He always did, but Y/N thought he might not today obviously because of the stormy weather.
To her surprise and delight, she heard the bell ring, signaling that there was a customer.
"Hello can I help yo-Alastor!"
"Hello, my love," Alastor said, swooping down to catch Y/N in a kiss.
Y/N would never get tired of kissing Alastor, no matter how many time she did kiss him. It was like magic every time.
"How has your day been?" Alastor asked as he pulled away.
"Very slow, but much better now that you're here," Y/N smiled. "How was yours?"
"As slow as molasses," Alastor sighed. "I had to cancel all my broadcasts today because of this damn weather."
"Oh, that's a shame," she said. "It seems like this weather is bringin' everybody down."
"You can say that again," he said. "You thinking of heading home early?"
"I was thinkin' 'bout it," she replied. "I think I'll stick around for a few more hours."
"Well, if you're not busy tonight," Alastor said, grabbing onto her hips. "How about dinner at my place?"
"Depends," Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Are you gonna be the one cookin'?"
"Of course," he chuckled.
"Then I'll have to take a rain check on that," she giggled. "Dinner sounds nice, what time should I swing by?"
"I prefer around six," Alastor answered..
"Six it is," Y/N said. "You gonna head back home?"
"I suppose so, yes. I gotta tidy up a bit."
"All that for me?"
"Only the best for you, my dear," Alastor said, sincere. "I'll catch you later tonight."
"Aw, alright," Y/N pouted. "If I ain't there by at least seven, you better come and get me and drag me back to your place."
"Alright, I will, I promise," he laughed before leaning down and placing his lips on Y/N's.
The kiss was sweet and loving, as it always was. The way their lips perfectly molded against each other, like they were made for each other, made Y/N's heart feel like it was about to burst.
The only reason they broke apart was so they could breath air.
If Y/N could, she would make Alastor her air.
"Goodbye, Al," she smiled up at him. "I love you."
"I love you most," he said, before letting go of her.
He gave her one more smile before walking out of the shop, the bell ringing, signaling his leave.
Y/N walked back behind the counter, a dreamy smile on her face.
"I'm going to marry that man someday," she dreamily said to herself.
Even though it was rainy and story outside, nothing could ruin this perfect day.
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It was 5:45 in the evening. Y/N was counting the money in the register for the twelfth time that day.
Besides Alastor, only three other people came in the shop that day.
Screw the rainy weather. No one even likes rain that much anyway.
Looking up at the clock, Y/N decided that she was going to stop working, and head over to Alastor's
Going into the back room, she put the money into a safe under a fake floorboard, checked her nightly schedule for that week (thankfully she only had to kill two people that week), and grabbed her umbrella and her raincoat, preparing to go into the cold rainy weather.
Walking out of the back room, she was stopped dead in her tracks, a look of fear and despair on her face.
"J-Jasper," she choked. "What are you doin' here?"
The two of them hadn't interacted since the incident in the flower shop six months ago. Y/N had hoped that Jasper had taken the hint and decided to leave her alone.
But this was Jasper we're talking about, and things never were easy with him, no matter how big or small the situation was.
"Just came to say hi," he said, a sadistic and gleeful smile on his face. He was holding something behind his back, but Y/N didn't know what.
"It's been a while since we've seen each other, thought we could catch up a bit."
He started to walk closer to Y/N, she started to back up.
"So now you're with that mama's boy, Alastor Altruist, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Didn't think you would be into a weirdo like that, but oh well."
Y/N didn't say anything, too frozen in fear to say a single word.
Jasper then revealed what was behind his back. It was a long, thin, razor sharp blade, the kind that Y/N would use when she didn't feel like using any of her guns.
If you wanted to kill someone real quick, you would use a blade like the one Jasper had.
Y/N's eyes widened in fear and terror.
She had a small pistol in her office, but there was no way she was going to be able to get it without putting up a fight.
"Y'know darling," he drawled, creeping very slowly towards her. "I didn't quite like the things you said to me the last time we talked.
Y/N gulped, slowly inching herself towards a shelf holding a dozen flower vases.
Jasper didn't notice. "Not gonna say anything, huh?" he asked, eyes glinting sinisterly.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna spill your fuckin' guts out."
Jasper lunged at Y/N, ready to strike.
Quickly, Y/N grabbed one of the vases on the shelf, and smashed it over Jasper's head, glass shards and flowers going everywhere all over the floor.
"You bitch!" Jasper snarled. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, clutching his bleeding head.
Y/N took this opportunity to try and run out of the front door.
She decided that it was stupid if she locked herself in her back room. If she ran out the front door, she could just run to the nearest public place and get help.
She was just a few feet from the door, when Jasper grabbed onto her wrist, twisting it hard.
Y/N turned around and was getting ready to punch him in the jaw, but that was replaced with a cry of pain and anguish.
Jasper had stabbed Y/N in the stomach, just above where her belly button was.
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and fear, crying out again when Jasper stabbed her a second time.
"How does that feel?" he whispered. "Doesn't feel too good does it?"
"F-" Y/N stuttered. "Fuck you!"
With a snarl, Jasper stabbed her in the shoulder.
Blood was oozing out of all three of her stab wounds, staining both her and Jasper's clothes, and staining the white marble tile.
Jasper dragged her away, propping her in a siting position behind the counter.
"No one's gonna find you right here," he smirked. "Besides, you'll die in at least thirty minutes anyway."
Y/N knew that wasn't right, but didn't say anything, scared out of her mind.
What was she going to do?
She wasn't ready to die.
She didn't want to die.
What would happen to her shop?
What would happen to precious dog, Honey?
What would happen to Alastor?
As one last 'fuck you', Jasper bent down, kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, and walked out the front door, the bell chiming.
As soon as he left, Y/N tried to get off the ground. She tried at least five times. But each time she tried, she failed, she fell back onto the ground with a painful wail.
After the fifth time, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen when someone found her body.
Maybe this was karma for all the people she had killed over the fifteen years she had been an assassin, she thought.
As Y/N thought about it more, she actually didn't feel like she was going to die. Yes, it was painful, but it just felt like she hadn't had any sleep in a really long time.
And she really wanted to sleep.
She looked up at the clock. It was 5:58.
She laughed dryly. If only she had left a little bit earlier, even if it was just a minute, she wouldn't of been on the floor bleeding out.
With one last sigh coming out of her mouth, she closed her eyes, succumbing to the darkness, and passed out thinking about Alastor and her dog.
In no way she was ready to die, or wanted to, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do, and that this was karma.
She deserved to die, she thought
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CLIFFHANGER
i wont be uploading any time this weekend or next weekend because i'll be in disneyland
i'm so excited
stay safe and drink lots of water <33
xoxo, Izzy
Taglist 💋
@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant
@mo-0-o @cutiebimbo @mommymilkers0526 @mikariell95 @al-of-the-stars
@martinys-world @bibliophile-yomna @mysticwitchcraftco @notsoaverageguy-1997 @flamewriterr
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softquietsteadylove · 8 months
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A spicy request for Receptionist AU, where Thena gets back at Gil after what he put her through in the last fic 🙈🙈
"Naekkeo," Gil murmurs as he peeks down his nose to button his dress shirt. "I'm gonna be ready in maybe ten minutes--do you want a ride to work?"
"That's okay, love, I'm not quite ready yet, you go ahead without me."
"Well, I-" Gil doesn't get to finish that thought, his jaw hanging open as Thena comes back into the bedroom from the bathroom. His eyes follow her as she walks over to the closet, taking her time looking at her half of it with her hands on her hips. Gil clears his throat, "uh, sweetie?"
"Hm?" she peeks at him over her shoulder.
Gil loses track of which button he's buttoning. He's actually got a very important meeting this morning with some representatives from a bank back home. He's been working to get an office set up here in London so Thena can be home more.
"Gil?" Thena smiles at him, and the devil woman knows exactly what she's doing when she turns to face him. Her smirk says it all as she saunters over to him and reaches to resume his buttoning. "Remember you have a meeting with the branch manager for Jasmine National."
Gilgamesh is too busy soaking in his partner's soaking body. Okay, it's not soaking wet, but she's still got some dewdrops from the shower still on her completely bare skin, as well as her damp hair sitting on her shoulders. Not long enough to cover her breasts, though.
"Are you listening?"
"You know I'm not," he growls at her, reaching up to grasp her wrists while she tries to straighten his collar. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
"Sending you off," she responds oh-so innocently. She even flutters her lashes as she shifts her weight, cocking out one hip.
"And this?" he makes a point of asking, drawing his eyes up her legs, freshly shaven and moisturized, to the slope of her waist and the bend of her ribs and her breasts which haunt his dreams.
"Gilgamesh please," she purrs (minx). "It's hardly something to bat an eye at, you have seen me like this plenty by now."
She says it like she's come home after getting her hair trimmed, not standing in front of him, her body beckoning, all but literally oiled up for him!
She tries to step away but he holds onto her--not too tight but he doesn't let her escape his grasp. He eyes all his favourite parts of her. "What's this for?"
Thena merely raises her brows at him, obviously in the mood for some retribution. "Perhaps you should think about this next time you want to take a business call in the middle of an affair."
He scoffs, stepping closer, happily letting her dampness ruin the fresh press of his shirt. "That, again?"
She matches his glaring, pressing herself against him, "you pulled out."
Thena hates being interrupted.
"Sorry, Gongjunim," he leans in but she makes him kiss her cheek before her lips. He obeys, trailing his lips over her cheek reverently. "I won't make you wait again."
"Your meeting," she reminds him, as if either of them really believe he's going to still go to that.
"No fuckin' way," he growls against her throat, sliding his arm around her waist and grasping a handful of ass.
"Gil," she attempts to sound scolding but he hoists her up in his arms and twists them backwards onto the bed. "This is a very important - ah! - meeting."
It's damn important, and he's already late to be early and have the upper hand in negotiating his terms, now. So, instead, he's going to keep kissing his girlfriend. He tangles their tongues and lays himself over her.
"You should go," she urges him again, although her nails are dug into his shoulders from behind as she wraps her legs around him.
"Like hell," he snarls, lining himself up with her in record time. He pushes in with practised and mastered patience though. "This was your plan to seduce me?"
"It seems to have worked," she grins at him as well, although her breathing becomes thinner as he pushes into her completely. Her hips raise off the bed to meet his.
"I keep telling you," he rumbles against the hollow of her throat, fucking her like a beast following a base desire. His hips do all the thinking for him. "You've been doing that for years."
"Hm," Thena purrs, and he can practically feel it ripple through him. "So I could have just gone into your office and asked you to take me on your desk?"
Gil grunts, picking up speed at the tantalising mental image. Thena really has a thing for enticing him into illicit activities in the office. "A man can dream, Thena."
"I would have," she huffs at him, although both of them are panting for breath, "if I thought it would work."
He growls, letting it reverberate into her as their lips smash together. "You had me the first time you ever wore that skirt with the cardigan I like."
He does love that particular outfit, and there's something particularly endearing - almost wholesome - about him being so seduced by a cardigan sweater and a skirt that extended past her knees.
"I would have walked in," she continues to tease him as he works them towards conclusion. She digs her nails into him more, "bent over and let you guess if I'm wearing panties or not."
"Fuck!" Gil pulls one of her legs up so he can hold it against his chest as he pounds into her, "don't say shit you don't mean, baby!"
"Gil!" she whines in response, their hips slapping together loudly and sloppily. "Fuck, right there, yes!"
"Shit honey," Gil grits his teeth. "You're gonna do that."
"Oh, rea--Gil!" Thena throws her head back as she comes first, her hips rising and swivelling in the air as they ground together.
Gil holds her thigh tight, grinding his hips against hers at a twisted angle. Their hair meets, he can feel the softness of her skin. He can see a very gratuitous angle of her breasts as well as where they're joined. It makes him want to beat on his chest like a caveman.
Thena groans as he lets her leg down, lying limply in the mess of their bed. "Well, now you're unforgivably late."
Gil lets out a loud belly laugh, and it drags her into laughing with him too. He flops into bed next to her, his shirt completely damp and still hanging out of his suit pants fly. "Honey, you knew I wasn't going to make that meeting as soon as you came in here."
Thena also laughs in their ecstasy, lying on her back with him, their heads close enough to hear each other's breathing. "Well, perhaps you shouldn't relegate fucking me in importance."
"Hey," he rolls over to give her a quick kiss, "nothing is more important than making love to you."
Thena sighs into the kiss, even following his lips as he pulls himself up, "oh, really?"
"Yep," he grins. She glares as him as he reaches for his trousers zip but all he does is shimmy out of them completely. "I'll tell 'em an emergency came up. Apparently I have to pamper my partner a little more."
"Hm," she raises a brow as he tosses aside his clothes in a rush like a horny frat boy. But she receives him with just as much glee as he throws himself into her breasts.
"I told you," he presses right into the valley of her cleavage. "Nothing more important."
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nebulaafterdark · 3 months
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The Rats
Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.
18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS
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“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.
“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.
“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.
The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.
“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.
“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.
“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”
“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”
Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”
Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”
Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”
Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”
“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.
Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.
“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”
Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.
“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”
“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”
“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”
“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.
“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”
“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”
“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.
Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.
“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.
His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.
“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.
“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.
“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”
“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.
“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.
“Did they listen?”
“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”
“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”
“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”
“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”
“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.
“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”
“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”
“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”
“What would you have me do?”
Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”
“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.
The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.
“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.
The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”
“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”
“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”
“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”
Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.
“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”
Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.
Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”
“I love you.”
“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”
Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.
“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.
She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.
Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”
Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”
He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.
Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.
“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.
The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.
Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”
The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.
“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.
“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”
“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”
“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”
“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.
“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”
The men look to each other, undecided.
“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.
————————————————————————-
Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”
Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”
The boy? “My boy?”
Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”
Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”
“They took her instead.”
“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”
“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.
Part 2
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lxnarphase · 5 months
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BITCH, YOU KNOW I'M SEXY ᯓ★
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━━ ❝ I'M NOT YOUR MOMMY, N★GGA! FIND A NEW HOBBY, N★GGA! ❞ wc. 5.4k
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : being toji's roommate, you finally snap after another night of not being able to sleep because of his damn late-night hookups. your house, your rules.
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x f. toji, frenemies to lovers, smut, face-sitting + pussy eating, dumbification, degradation, praise kink, dirty talk, playful arguing, hair pulling, size kink, begging, riding, unprotected sex (do not do this in real life omfg), dom-ish reader, sub-ish toji, lots of pet names, toji being an asshole, toji gets called a 'good boy' a few times
ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's notes : toji toji toji, what am i going to do with you...anyways, this was super fun and i love these two so much and i need them to go out on a date properly at some point ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎
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you love sleep. absolutely love and cherish it, even.
every night, you follow the routine you set for yourself without fail: hot shower, slipping into some comfy PJs, in-depth skincare, brushing your teeth, and then pulling your bonnet on.
nothing is better than slipping into bed, soft sheets feeling sooo good on your skin. yes, you absolutely love sleep.
except it seems that your roommate has no respect for your need for rest, considering how many times you've had to hear the high-pitched whining of women paired with the annoying thud of the headboard against the wall.
he better not damage the wall either, because he will be the one paying for it.
you both were...sort of friends, sure, but ever since you both graduated college, toji has been doing his best to get on your nerves. constantly picking on you, teasing you, or doing stupid shit that annoys the fuck out of you. especially whenever he leaves the fucking toilet seat up in the middle of the night.
and every time he hears you squeal late at night in the bathroom before shouting his name, he can't help but laugh.
eventually, it went from him just doing things to inconvenience or mess with you to this. and you were tired.
these nightly...activities of his need to be addressed because you are not letting a man of all things be the reason you can't sleep soundly at night. this is your apartment, after all!
it's a friday night and you just know you need to talk to him before you have to hear some woman fighting for her life of toji does...whatever he does that has all these women coming in and out of your apartment like it's a damn brothel...okay, well, it was the same two women, but still!
so that's how you find yourself, pounding on his door, sleepy, tired, and irritated in your hello kitty pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, ready to get in bed and actually sleep.
"fushiguro, open this damn door," you command, fluffy slipper tapping on the floor as you wait for him to open his door. after a minute, you hear a groan and the shuffling of sheets before the door swings open.
toji stands in the doorway, only in a pair of sweatpants that hang low on his hips with an eyebrow raised as he looks down at you. you don't care how hot he looks, you want nothing more than to wipe that look off his face, hating how smug he looks.
"whaddya want? 's she here already? told 'er not to come for another 2 hours," he mumbles, scratching at the scar on his lip. you're silent for a moment, processing what he just said. "who......no. nononono. absolutely not, tell whoever you are expecting she is not coming into my apartment."
crossing your arms, you fix him with a tough look. sure, you know you aren't the scariest thing, especially in hello kitty pants and puffy slippers, but it doesn't matter! he is going to respect your wishes or...or else!
"aww, what's wrong, doll? can't sleep," he teases, voice low and sinfully smooth as smirk finds its way onto his face. "guess ya should've invested in those headphone y'keep talkin' about so much. can't help that 'm just that good that the girlies can't keep their mouths shut."
having you in front of his bedroom door like this...it's so fucking adorable to him, you were just so cute and didn't have a single clue, did you? complaining that he and his little playthings were too loud and keeping you up was not what he expected. but, toji won't lie, he's genuinely surprised it took you so long to finally say something.
it seems his little comment struck a cord, his smirk getting bigger when your eyes get just a bit wider in disbelief. man, you were so fucking cute like this, all angry and huffy.
"okay, first of all, those headphones are NOT comfy to sleep with at night. and i'm not dropping almost $400 dollars on something so that i can accommodate for you," you argue, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his stupidly big chest.
no, seriously, why were his pecs almost bigger than your tits?
"can you please just let me sleep for one night, or are you that sex deprived you can't go a single night without getting your dick wet?"
whatever this new side of you was, he liked it.
"aww, sounds like little princess s' mad no one's fuckin' her right. ya not gettin' fucked good, pipsqueak? haven't seen yer boy-toy around lately anyways.
"god, that's—that's none of your fucking business, fushiguro, shut up!"
"make me."
you blink.
a moment passes...and suddenly, your eyes are sharp.
ah...he might've fucked up with those two simple words.
"...you know what? i will, you annoying fuck."
catching toji off guard, you shove him back, taking advantage of him stumbling to walk inside his room as you slam the door shut behind you. a light chuckle escapes him, eyebrows raises. "so, the little kitten does have claws," he says with a grin.
his little roommate seems to have grown a pair of balls. what is she gonna do? hit him with pillows, curse him out, kick him out? pffft, if you kicked him out he would know you needed sleep, you both have been friends for too long...right?
as toji gets slightly worried he might've genuinely crossed a line (a bit too late to realize that, he realizes), you push him onto his bed, standing between his legs.
oh.
oh, he...he likes you from his angle, looking down at him with a little bit of a pout on those pretty full lips of yours as you try soooo hard to look angry and scary. but how can he be scared when his roommate, the one he's been fucking his hand for, looks so fucking cute?
curly hair a bit frizzy and messy (he's surprised you don't have your bonnet on yet), smelling like cocoa butter and that strawberry shortcake body spray that haunts him at night. and now you're in his fucking room. he'd never be able to escape it now.
fuck, every time you came close to him, he just suddenly couldn't process anything except you...he needed to get a grip.
propping himself up on his elbows, toji locks eyes with you, playing off his surprise. "what's gotten into ya, roomie? so aggressive, might have t' call shiu to come get you," he attempts to playfully poke. the tension in the room grows when you start to massage your temples, trying to calm down.
in.
out.
in.
out.
in-
"well, if lack of sleep is gettin' you all huffed up like this, i gotta couple o' ways t' tire ya out if y'need."
"oh my god, y'talk too fucking much," you grumble.
toji opens his mouth, ready to make another smart comment but he's shocked into silence when you tug your pajama pants off. there's no fucking way this is real. toji knows he has to be dreaming and knowing he'd be waking up with a wet spot in his pants if he didn't wake up soon.
and...are you wearing hello kitty boxer briefs too? god, you're such a fucking dork, it's cute and it's only making him harder in his pants.
but all of that is forgotten when you hook your fingers in the waistband of those stupid looking boxers and drag them down those pretty legs and toji gets a glimpse of your cute, pudgy tummy and...and....
fuck.
he doesn't even get a chance to think, he's so fucking hard. you're fucking half naked in his room right now and he can't tear his eyes away from how soft you look, that little patch of hair (is it shaped like a fucking heart? jesus fucking christ, you were serious about making yourself feel pretty everywhere), god, he's so fucked.
"shit. someone's eager. just couldn' wait to-"
"i'm so sick of you," you cut off, pushing him down onto the bed, crawling up his chest. you give him a look, one that he instantly understands and he smirks, giving you a nod before you continue moving until your hips hover over his face.
the smirk melts off his face when he realizes how real this is. your bare pussy is literally mere inches away from his mouth, so close he can practically taste you.
he's not gonna make it out of this alive, is he?
when you see him about to open his mouth to make another stupid comment, you move, pressing your hips down onto his face, shutting him up. "you wanna use your mouth so much, toj? i'll give you somethin' to use it on."
toji's response is just a muffled groan, his eyes fluttering a little. his hands move up to grip your thighs to steady you and also keep you on his face. he hasn't even tasted you, but shit, you smell so good.
wasting no more time, his tongue hungrily darts out, desperate to taste you. the moment he licks over your folds, he's sighing, melting into the bed. you're so soft, so sweet and he hasn't even gotten a taste from the main source. pulling you down onto his face a bit harder, toji finally swipes through your cunt and he's addicted.
"mmh, fuck," he grunts, burying his face as deep as possible. what the actual fuck are you made of, he thinks to himself. you taste so sweet, he's getting so dizzy as he starts to messily lap up all the slick dripping from your pussy. he barely pulls away from you to breathe, taking just a second to part, his hot breath fanning against the wet mess between your legs before he dives right back in, his low groans resonating against your core so nicely.
toji slurps loudly at your cunt, unable to stop himself from rolling his hips up, the friction of his sweats on his cock a sweet relief. he's so sure this is heaven, thanking whatever god there is for making you snap to this point but then you start talking.
you sigh, hips gently rocking against toji's face as your eyes open to look down your body at him. "mmn, 's better," you purr to yourself, little sweet noises of pleasure escaping you as one of your hands runs through his hair, giving him an encouraging little tug.
"should i just give you my pussy every night so you let me sleep, toj," you coo at him, a smug smile on your face. he didn't even notice his eyes slipped shut, but he opens them, flickering up to meet your lidded gaze and see the pride swirling around your eyes.
has his roommate always been like this? toji doesn't remember you being so fucking sexy like this. sure, you've always been attractive, and he's definitely had a thing for you for a while. but never in his life did he think his sweetheart of a friend would be smushing his face into her soft cunt.
his response is a little nod and an increase in his tongue's movements against your sloppy pussy. his lips move to suck right at your puffy clit, and he swears nearly cums when you gasp his name and whine, pulling him even deeper by his hair.
his train of thought is completely destroyed, he can't think of anything but you, can't feel anything but you, can't see, can't smell, can't taste anything but you.
he'd kill a man if it meant being able to taste you like this every fucking day.
"ohh, tojibaby, y'look s' pretty eating my pussy...poor thing, jus' needed something to shut you up for a bit."
scratch that, he'd kill SEVERAL men if it meant hearing you sing praises like that while you grind against his mouth, practically suffocating him with your thighs.
it's addicting, the way slick is gushing out of you each time he kisses your clit before sucking on it, coating his mouth. toji knows he looks a wreck, but he doesn't care, not when he's got you on him like this.
"d'you wanna make me cum, toj?" you ask it so teasingly, tugging his hair again and making him moan. "you're makin' out with my pussy...such a good boy for me."
those two words are his undoing, a visible shift in his energy. his eyes are sharp, and he almost looks angry as he grips your thighs even harder. "yes, fuck, yeah, mama, i wanna make you cum all over my face," he growls, tongue unrelenting when it slips back inside of your cunt, a nasty wet noise filling the air as you keen. he's fucking you with his tongue so messily, like he'll die if he stops tasting you.
good boy. you called him a good boy.
the compliment made something snap in him, the need to devour you whole the only thing on his mind. he's not just a good boy, no, he's your good boy, and the thought of being yours makes a thick bead of precum to drip out of his cock and stain his sweatpants.
he's brought back when you tug his head back to look at you, that thick tongue of his slipping out of you.
"i don't want you bringing anymore fucking women in my house, fushiguro," you warn, glaring down at him. you're serious. if you see another girl come in here at 11pm, you might actually kill this man in his sleep and not in a way he'd like
"i'm so tired of hearing their annoying moans. if you need a pussy to put your stupid dick in, just ask me, you fuckin' idiot." shit, you usually never talk like this, but toji likes this side of you. the usually sweet and kind roommate he was so used to was no where to be seen, replaced with this commanding and no-nonsense woman who knew what she wanted.
he can't even deny, this side of you is such a massive turn on.
"promise you're gonna let me fuckin' sleep n' i'll cum on your pretty mouth, fushiguro. otherwise, i'm getting up and i'll call shiu and see if he wants a taste."
oh, fuck no. no way in hell is toji letting that smug bastard see you like this, best friend or not.
he desperately nods, just wanting you to let go of his hair so he can dive back into your sweet pussy, licking his lips to taste you again.
"promise, mama, no more bringing other women, jus' you, don't need nobody else but you, y'got my word."
"that's my good boy."
once you let go of his hair, toji dives right back to the task at hand like man possessed. his lips press against your clit, kissing it with little wet smacks before sucking it into his mouth. his tongue doesn't give you a break, flicking over it rapidly. your moans, god, your moans are getting so loud and so pretty, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you get closer and closer.
"c'mon, doll, please," he begs, a whininess in his voice as he massages your thick thighs, encouraging you to ride his face until you cream all over it. "give it t' me, give me what i wan', cum all over my face, baby girl."
feeling how you start to move your hips, a sweet little 't-toji, 'm gonna cum' falling from your lips, his hands grasp your ass as he seals his mouth over your cunt, sucking and licking desperately.
he needs it.
he needs you.
needs you so fucking bad.
feeling him mutter those words against your cunt makes you gasp and choke out his name, thighs squeezing around his head. "oh, fuck, toji, 'm cummin, baby!" your hands are both in his hair as you desperately hump against his mouth, body shaking with the force of your orgasm.
he doesn't stop, he keeps his mouth on you to make sure not a drop of your sweet cum goes to waste. he can feel it spilling out of his mouth, down his chin and neck. it's so messy, just how he likes it.
he watches you, how could he even think to take his eyes off you? you're so pretty, do you even realize how your hair got puffier and messier from your sweating, how a few of those tiny curls got stuck to your skin?
"g-god, fuck, toj, hoohmygod, your mouth 's so good, nngh!"
shit, you're pretty, so fucking pretty, what the fuck? god, you even cum pretty, toji's so fucked. why didn't he get you on his face like this sooner?
feeling your tremors start to subside, toji slows his tongue, switching to little licks and then to soft kisses against your clit, keeping you grounded as you come down from your high. the fact he didn't paint the inside of his sweatpants white is a miracle, but he knows the front is wet and stained.
when he feels you relax, toji guides you off his face and down to sit on his chest. he can't help the twinkle in his eye, grinning at you proudly. the bottom half of his face is a mess, covered in his spit and your slick. you like this look on him.
"has anyone ever told you that you've got t'most addicting pussy ever?"
you huff a laugh, urging him to move up further on the bed until his back rests against the pillows. he was so annoying, and you hated how attractive it made him. “you’re too awake for my liking," you sarcastically huff, giving him a sweet little pout that makes him feel a bit more things than he probably should.
tugging his sweatpants down, you let out a little noise of surprise.
ah.
it all makes sense now. no wonder those girls sounded like they were dying.
"toji, what the actual hell is wrong with you?!"
"don't get mad at me, ma, i didn't magically make my dick this size! i just got lucky!"
"lucky?! girl, this is a curse, how the fuck did those girls fit this thing in them?!"
"they didn't."
that makes you pause. they couldn't get him all the way inside? glancing down at his cock, heavy in your hand, as he helps to get his pants completely off, you're not surprised. but you could take it, right?
...guess you need to find out.
shifting your hips, you move to swipe his cock through your slick pussy, a smug look on your face when he sharply inhales. "i'm gettin' my revenge, pretty boy, for all the sleep you made me lose. 's late, anyways, yeah? don't we need to sleep soon?"
the head of his cock catches onto your entrance, causing you both to sigh in pleasure. this would be a stretch, but you're determined by pure spite from toji and those women keeping you up at night.
while you're teasing him, toji is a breath away from losing his mind. the sight of you taking charge, hair completely fluffy now from the humidity in the room, has his cock pulsing in your soft hand. he's so sure that you're not gonna be able to take it all in. shit, he's wondering if he should stop you, tell you he's gotta prep you first or else it's gonna hurt, but you use your free hand to grab his face, making him look at you as an evil grin breaks out on your face.
"i'm gonna put you t' sleep with my pussy. uhm, something something, call that pussy nyquil," you giggle, slipping the tip of his cock inside of your wet, tight little cunt.
melting, that's the best way toji can describe the feeling of behind inside you, even if it's just the tip. "jesus," he hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips. you're so hot inside, your tight walls are so snug around him. there's no way this tight cunt of yours is gonna be able to fit him in, there's not fucking way.
despite that, he finds himself guiding you down onto him, trying his hardest not to buck up into you. but the sensation of your soft, gummy walls squeezing him so perfectly is making it so challenging to stay still.
"fuck, mama...shit," he groans, watching as he is sucked into your warm pussy. once you get halfway, he expects you to stop, and that's usually where they all do. he was fine with that, more than fine, because he's never been inside someone so fucking tight.
but then, you raise your hips until just the tip is inside, and with a devious little giggle, you slam your hips down, gasping when you get him in all the way. damn, you realize it was a stupid idea, the stretch making you feel almost sick, but the reaction you get out of toji is worth it.
his head falls back against the headboard, and he whimpers, eyes rolling back into his skull, his lip pulled between his teeth as he tries to relearn how to think.
“i'm gonna make you cum and ‘m gonna fuck you stupid for not letting me sleep, fushiguro.” giving yourself a bit to get used to his size, you slowly started moving, seeing what angle worked best for you.
meg the stallion, i'm gonna make you proud of me, you think with a little smirk before you steady yourself with your hands on his chest and start to bounce your hips, your cute little threat only making his cock throb inside you.
"'m gonna make you regret bein' an asshole to your pretty roommate, pretty boy."
it doesn't take long for it to get messy, for it to get so fucking sloppy and noisy. each time you bring your hips down, the room is filled with a wet smack. you've really made a mess out of him, your sticky wet coating his fat cock and his lap, thick strands of it connecting you to him with each raise of your hips before you bring them right back down.
toji can't breathe, finally tilting his head back up as his eyes are glued to where his cock slips in and out of you. you're taking him, taking all of him into your sticky cunt and, shit, he thinks he might die like this.
"fuck, fuck, mama, c'mon, don' do this t' me, relax, please, fuckin' strangling my cock, oh my god—"
he's whining, it's so cute. who knew you could get toji fushiguro, mr. tough guy, to crumble under you like this so easily? it's so wet and gushy, the sound of your thick body smacking back down on his only making his insides twist in pleasure. he can feel how fucking wet you are, dripping down his cock, down his balls, it's so unfair.
"tojiii, talk t' me," you coo at him, your sweet voice bringing him back. "don't tell me my pussy's making you dumb already, jus' started."
you did, you're literally fucking him dumb, and he doesn't know what to do or what to say, but hearing you say his name like that in-between moans as you bounce your hips up and down his throbbing shaft has his babbling in an instant.
"god, this cunt 's perfect, baby, s' fucking perfect."
“yeah? y’like my pussy, toj? like my pretty cunt creaming on you?” you roll your hips, a pretty moan leaving you when his tip nudges against that soft spot perfectly. “f-fuck, you really are big...poor thing, no one could get it in all the way? am, mh, am i the first t’ take this fat cock t’ the hilt, tojibaby?”
you lean forward, hands moving from his chest to around his neck as you roll your hips, swiveling them in ways that have him gushing precum all over the insides of your cunt. the squelches your cunt makes with each roll is so fucking sinful and so nasty.
"y-yeah, mama, she feels s' good around me, all tight and warm, milking my cock like it's made just for you."
god, you smell so good...he can still smell your perfume and the sweet blueberry scent of your leave-in. you smell so sweet and taste so sweet too, he's so fucking lucky to have you fucking him like this. toji's hands move from your hips to your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his dick, groaning your name.
"god, you're the first to take it all, y'got me so fucking deep in that sloppy lil' cunt that y'can feel me in your stomach."
you giggle between moans, pressing your forehead against his. "y'so cute, toji, such a good boy f' me, yeah? feels so much better knowin' you can just tell me if you need me to put you to sleep, right?"
he groans, nodding as his eyes flutter closed again. "y-yeah, yes, baby, feels s' much better," he admits, breathless as he starts to get close. he can feel you getting tighter, getting wetter, and he'll be damned if he cums before you do.
"aww, listen t' you," you say with a little whine, your dominant mask starting to ebb away as you start to grow weaker and weaker. it's starting to feel good, really good, to the point where you can't think either, and you don't know how much more of this you can do. "m-my pretty boy, my good boy, f-fuckin' me s...s-so good..."
the moment he picks up the whininess in your voice, toji is alert, looking into your eyes to find that the pleasure is finally catching up to you, too. "yeah? yeah, mama? she's feelin' good? fuck, 'm gonna fuckin' fill you up, baby, gotta cream this pretty pussy so deep that she feels it f' days," he grunts, mouth open as he pants against your lips.
they look so pretty, he wonders if you taste like that lip balm you always carry, if your tongue is as sweet as you are, if your plump lips are as soft as they look. the thought of them pressing against his is what breaks him, and he's so embarrassed at the noise he makes before leaning back against the pillows and planting his feet into the mattress.
"i gotta fuck you, gotta fuck you good, 'm sorry, 'm so sorry, baby, promise i'll let you sleep, promise i'll be good for ya, okay? mm, fuck, c'mon, let toji make it better, gonna kiss your cunt with my cock and make it up t' ya."
toji fucks into your hole desperately, groaning at the loud wet plaps of his hips smacking against yours. your moans, god, your moans, they're so pretty, you're so pretty. he can see your tits bouncing against the fabric of the shirt you have on, and he curses, so fucking mad he didn't have you take it off. but he doesn't care, not right now, not when he sees how gorgeous you look.
he's so fucking prideful when he sees how poofed out your hair is, bouncing with each thrust up into you. "y're so fucking pretty, c'mere."
one of his hands grabs you by the back of the head and smushes his lips against yours, hungry as he licks over them before shoving his stupidly thick tongue inside your mouth. the kiss is just as messy as the rest of you, and the pitiful little moan you give has him reeling.
"i-i'm, 'm gonna cum, toj," you whisper against his mouth, nails biting into his shoulders as you do your best to match his pace. you're gonna cum, he's gonna make you cum, you're about to cum all over his fucking dick, jesus christ.
"fuck, you're so hot, so cute, mama, my pretty girl. need ya t' cum, dolly, can y'do that for me? please, baby, cum on me, make a mess s' i can fill you up an' apologize like i promised," he rambles before kissing you again, biting your lip before running his tongue over it.
it's so close, you can taste it. it's so unfair how big his cock is, how you can feel every vein and throb of it inside of you, how you can feel his hot precum smudging all over your velvety walls.
the realization that he's inside you raw has you moaning so sweetly, and your pussy is gripping him for dear life as you dig your nails into his shoulders even more, head falling forward. "t-toji, 'm, 'm gonna—f-fuck!"
you're cumming, you're cumming on him, and it feels so fucking good. you're creaming all over his lap, and your crying and moaning his name so sweetly he feels like he's gonna pass out. "baby, babyyy, no, lemme see, lemme see you cum," he begs, the hand in your hair tilting your head back up and the view he gets has his hips stuttering inside you.
your eyes are unfocused, long lashes wet from tears as you pant and whimper for him, all for him. and when you make eye contact with him, he feels your gummy walls squeeze him so tight.
"oh, fuck, yes, mama, jus' like that. keep cummin' on me, keep goin', 'm so close, gonna cum, gonna cum in this pretty pussy s' fuckin' deep you feel it in your tummy," toji babbles before he's losing himself too, pressing your head against his chest as he fucks into you, savoring your overstimulated cries for him. "'s gonna go deep, so fuckin' deep an' i'm gonna fuckin' eat it outta you, just like y-you fuckin' deserve—!"
with a pathetic sounding groan of your name, he's giving one, two, three, four hard, deep thrusts, moaning as he pumps his thick load into you, feeling your oversensitive pussy milking him dry. "g-good boy, g'fucking boy, tojiii," you whimper, moving from his chest to pepper kisses all over his face, moaning softly as you feel his hot cum coating your walls.
his mind is so blissfully blank that he doesn't even realize he's shaking a little bit from how hard he just came. cooing happily at him, you cup his cheeks, trying to bring him back down to you. "come back t' me tojiiii, don't die on me, roomie!"
still reeling from his insanely intense orgasm, manages a little chuckle, his hand moving from your ass to under your shirt, stroking your back. "'m here, 'm here, promise...i just...shit. ya fuckin' drained me, girly. what the hell are you?"
you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth before nestling under his chin to catch your breath. "I'm your damn friend who happens to be the roommate you have been tormenting by not letting me sleep, dumbass."
"heh. fair point."
you both stay like this for a bit, just resting a little and trying to catch your breath. except...toji's eyes feel a little heavy, and he feels himself drifting away. "there you goooo," you coo, hand running through his hair. "told ya i'd put you to sleep."
"yeah, yeah, you were right," he grumbles and opens an eye, hand coming up to pinch your cheek. "jus' a lil' nap, okay? we still gotta get you cleaned up. after all, i promised i'd clean my cum outta ya, right?"
"my god, toji, you are nasty."
"but you like ittttt."
you couldn't stop yourself from laughing because, yes, you did. you liked it a lot.
soon, the room falls quiet as toji's breathing falls into rhythm with yours, the rise and fall of his chest steady and slow. his mind is still a bit dazed, and he can't help but get a little flustered as he realizes how badly he's wrapped around your little finger. the thought is only further confirmed when he feels his heart squeeze just a bit when he notices you fell asleep on his chest.
he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace, huffing to himself. yeah, so what he was whipped, he finally got you in his arms, so he sees it as a win.
as sleep finally starts to creep up on him, he presses a little kiss to your forehead, leaning back against the pillows and shutting his eyes. just a little nap, and then he'll get you cleaned up and make sure you accept his apology for everything he's put you through.
...he just hopes you won't be too grumpy when you realize you fell asleep without your bonnet on.
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ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff
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eupheme · 29 days
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[part ii of come on and show me | masterlist]
logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson
rated e - 4k
tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink
It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.
(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)
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The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.
It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.
A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.
It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.
Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.
Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.
You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.
Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.
But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.
Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.
"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."
It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.
"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"
Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.
“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”
It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.
“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”
Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.
"Don't have one."
It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.
'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"
Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."
"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.
Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.
Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”
There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.
“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”
There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.
“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”
As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.
The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.
“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”
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You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.
A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.
You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.
He doesn’t let you down.
“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”
It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.
There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.
“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”
That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.
Teasing. Logan is teasing you.
You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.
It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.
How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.
You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.
“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”
Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.
“Thought it was a one-time thing.”
You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”
And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.
He huffs, and your voice softens.
“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
The look he gives you is searching.
“Wade put you up to this?”
You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”
His tongue pokes against his cheek.
“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”
Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.
Neither one of you had stood a chance.
“I’m sorry.”
You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.
“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”
There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.
Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.
Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”
There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.
You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.
“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.
This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.
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“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”
Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”
There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.
Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.
Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.
Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.
Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.
“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.
Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.
“I’m talking to king dong right here.”
There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”
“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”
“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”
He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.
It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.
“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”
Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.
“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”
A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.
“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”
The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.
“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”
There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.
He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.
“Cold day in hell before that happens.”
It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.
“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.
“I have a way of making people beg.”
You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.
The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.
There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.
It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.
“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”
Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.
Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.
“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”
The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.
“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.
Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.
A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.
You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.
It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.
“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.
There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.
A kiss dropped against your shoulder.
“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.
“That’s okay, I do too.”
His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.
A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”
Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.
Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.
“Room for two, honey.”
There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.
“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.
His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.
Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.
“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”
A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.
“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”
There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.
“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”
“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”
He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.
A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.
It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.
There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.
Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.
“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”
Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”
“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”
Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.
“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”
Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.
“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.
“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”
You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.
“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”
You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.
Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.
Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.
Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”
It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.
“Please,” You whine, rocking back, “I want it, Logan. Wanna come-”
Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.
Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.
Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”
You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”
His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.
“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.
Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.
The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.
His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.
“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”
The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.
And if you were a betting girl…
You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.
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Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.
“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”
A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”
Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.
Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.
A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”
Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.
“Don’t ruin it.”
Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.
“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.
His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
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thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!
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tender-rosiey · 9 months
Text
“KEEP THE PRIEST! WEDDING NO.2 STARTS!”
— gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto & toji when you catch the bouquet at a wedding (f!reader)
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a/n: if you don't have a cousin then now you do and thanks for being patient with me everyone! <3
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GOJO SATORU:
 a family member of yours was finally getting married—something you never thought would happen since she was always complaining about all her boyfriends, but hey at least someone finally did it.
anyway, naturally, you took your dear boyfriend as your date.
the wedding was going smoothly, drinks were exchanged, food was distributed, and cakes were eaten—much to your lover’s delight.
another thing that kept happening is people trying to introduce their daughters to satoru.
his instant response was to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, kissing your cheek and chirping a “sorry, but I am happily taken!”
now it was time for the part that a lot of people wait for: the bouquet throw.
your cousin was already crazy, so she has been waiting for it so she can throw the bouquet with all her might. on the other hand ,you and the other ladies were lined up and patiently waited.
one swing, two swings, one faint throw, and finally the bouquet was thrown into the air, heading towards its next owner.
a chorus of ‘its mine! mine!’ filled the room, but relentless, you maneuvered your way into finally catching the bouquet in your hands.
you’ve won the battle.
but wait. it seems like there is a contestant that won’t back down.
“let go of that bouquet, young lady!”
you look behind you and gasps, it is—“satoru?!”
“yes, satoru!” your boyfriend huffs, making his way towards you.
he firmly takes a stance in front of you, contrasting his intimidating position with his infamous pout, “it’s not fair for you to take the bouquet!”
you sway your hip to the side sassily, “does it make a difference? we’re getting married either way!”
your boyfriend shakes his head, “no, babe!” he places his hands on his chest, pushing his theatrics till the top, “I need to be the star!”
he crumbles to the floor and you merely stare at him in silence.
you see your cousin approach you and your boyfriend, “first of all, I am the star, and second, if you don’t stop fighting, I am taking the bouquet back.”
your boyfriend gasps clinging to your legs, “babe, your cousin is super mean!”
you pat his head with a sigh and he happily presses a kiss to your thigh. what a taxing man to be with.
“sweets, I wanna pee.”
taxing child.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your boyfriend was—surprisingly—invited to a friend’s wedding, which he hated as he was planning on taking you to a stargazing sight because you’ve been talking about it ever since you saw it multiple times on tiktok.
so, here you are with your boyfriend put into a suit by force.
you’re pretty sure that he is going to rip it any moment, but you would rather he does that when you’re both alone: you don’t necessarily mind a show.
anyway, you are sat with your dear lover who hasn’t stopped frowning since you’ve entered the darn hall.
the only good social thing he has done so far is greeting the groom and the bride. other than that, his hand never left yours and he stuck by you.
it’s cute, though, even if he argues that he is anything but.
you hear them announce that they’re finally throwing the bouquet so you give sukuna a quick peck then run to reserve your space.
now, you get very competitive in certain things, and this is certainly one of them. you will be going home with that bouquet.
and true to your goal, the moment the bouquet is at a height you can reach, you jump at it, holding on for dear life.
your feet reach the ground once again, and you raise your hand in victory, “I did it!”
you don’t see sukuna rolling his eyes fondly and with a proud grin that screams ‘that’s my girl’.
after a bit of applause, you quickly turn to your boyfriend and walk towards his table, radiating with confidence.
you place the bouquet on the table then you lean on your elbows, “I caught the bouquet,” you wink, “what do you think?”
“of course, you would get it,” he hums, “you’re mine, and I don’t settle for less than the best.”
you roll your eyes and lean towards him, swirling the drink that you stole from him, “it’s quite the commitment that we’re getting into,” you then look and lock eyes with him, “think you can handle that?”
“there’s nothing I can’t handle, loser.”
you giggle before cooing, “aww, you love me so much,” he gently shoves you, before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you back towards him.
“I tolerate you.”
“so love!”
“no.”
NANAMI KENTO:
jingling bells, clicking heels, steaming food, and loving couples including you and your dear boyfriend fill today’s wedding hall.
a mutual friend of yours and nanami finally tied the knot with their lover, and you were happily invited.
it was a never ending party of laughter and happy tears—that you efficiently hid by burying your face in your boyfriend’s chest.
things calmed down a bit, leaving you to fangirl about how cute your friend is to nanami.
“but kento, she looked so cute! she is so pretty! he better not hurt her!”
nanami keeps munching on his bread, “I think she is capable of handling that herself.”
you cross your arms with a huff, “what do you mean?”
“she is carrying a shotgun.”
“oh, you right,” you acknowledge, before running towards the dance floor when you see your friend about to throw the bouquet, “f/n, you better not throw that until I tell you!”
“if you don’t get then you just have a major skill issue!”
you gasp, taking a battle stance in the middle of the of the dance floor. you hear your friend giggle, before she finally throws the bouquet into the air.
from then, it’s a cat fight between you and the rest of the people.
however, you come out as victorious then excitedly running towards nanami, “kento! kento! did you see me?”
“mhm, you looked lovely as always,” he chuckles, giving you his full attention.
you giggle, taking a seat beside him. you start talking about your fight(?) to get the bouquet while nanami stealthily takes a plate of your favourite snacks from the buffet and slides it to you.
you gasp, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, “thank you, love!”
he hums, eyeing the bouquet, “you know,” then he says, fidgeting with his watch a little, “I can get you a better bouquet if you want—with a side of a ring, of course.”
you were about to finally dig in, but your brain quickly short circuits at his comment, “oh.”
slowly, you turn to him, feeling your face get warmer by the second.
he laughs lightly, hand coming to rest on yours, “I am not joking,” he pulls your hand up for a small peck, “I am just waiting for the right time so please be patient with me.”
GETO SUGURU:
the moment the vows were exchanged, music was blasted to the roof, and everyone was partying to the max.
your cousin, the bride, is dancing to the beat with vigor and excitement you’ve never seen before.
you would like to join her, but geto just won’t let you since he knows that you will somehow end up drunk off your mind and dancing on one of the tables.
so you’re sat with him right now, sulking and glaring at him.
“babe, don’t be so sad now, please? I am only doing this so you don’t accidentally hurt yourself.”
you huff and turn your back on him, “I am a full-functioning adult; thank you very much!”
his hand slowly inches towards yours, “the prettiest full-functioning adult,” he smiles, pulling his chair closer to you. “and the smartest too, did you know that?”
you almost give into his advances—his charming smile is far too lethal—but you’ve developed a bit of immunity to his actions.
so instead, you face him with a teasing smile, “I would love if you tell me more—after I successfully steal the bouquet.”
“steal?”
you roll your eyes, “acquire.”
he laughs lightly, and you take it as your cue to run towards the group of women huddled behind your cousin.
you stand proudly, “c/n, throw your bouquet!”
“no!”
“what?!”
“just kidding!”
and so the bouquet flies and ‘accidentally’ lands in your hands—it’s no accident; you’ve been training your entire life for this moment.
people whoop and applaud, and you bow to audience, before scurrying to your darling boyfriend.
you wave the bouquet in your hand, and he nods knowingly, “guess you’re never get rid of me,” you muse, hugging the bouquet to your chest, “what a pity, right?”
he looks at you confused then sighs with a smile, “I never planned to, but okay.”
you beam at him and throw your arms around him, and he laughs, hugging you closer.
you trace shapes on his back and murmur, “you’re way too cute for your own good.”
“I need to charm you one way or another, you know,” he replies, motioning for the waiter to get you two more drinks.
he stays silent for a moment, “you can go get hammered—“
“not!”
“okay, not hammered with your cousin.”
“yay!” you scream joyously and run away.
guess who ended up drunk and dancing on a table.
FUSHIGURO TOJI:
toji and a wedding?
it’s a combination most would not expect, but it isn’t his wedding anyway, so he can’t complain about it being too much commitment right now.
the only thing he can complain about is being put into this ‘suffocating’ suit—a sight you love.
“do we really have to stay till the end?”
you turn towards him, mortified, “this is literally your best friend’s wedding.”
he shrugs, “so?”
with a shake of your head, you drag him further down the hall to your assigned seats. at least, holding your hand is enough to pacify him.
the wedding goes as you would expect, aside from toji almost falling asleep.
you are now just standing beside the clearly expensive and delicious buffet—your true love.
toji is happily indulging in the food laid out in front of him, and you are about to do the same, but you notice that the bouquet throw is about to happen.
so you dash out of your seat just in time to catch that rogue bouquet. you raise your hand, announcing yourself as the now rightful owner of this bouquet.
that’s why you excitedly search for toji to show him your new prize.
you rush towards the table that you left your boyfriend at, “toji, I got it!—toji?”
a look left, a look right, your eyes widen. did the darn guy leave the moment you caught the bouquet? no way his fear of commitment is this intense.
you take note of the groom—toji’s bestie—shaking his head.
feeling embarrassed, you frown and yell for him, “toji fushiguro!”
suddenly, you feel a presence behind your back. you feel the person lean towards your ear a bit, and they whisper a small, “hey.”
you gasp, spinning to smack him square on the shoulder, “I hate you!”
he teases, almost like your hit was never there in the first place, “now now, that isn’t something you say to your future husband,” he grins and you scrunch your face in disgust.
you turn on your heel to walk away from him, “kill yourself.”
“what a foul mouth,” he whistles, following you until you finally give up and are given the chance to punch him in the stomach to make for the scare he gave you.
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ceilidho · 1 month
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soap developing an unhealthy attachment to his therapist post his brush with death after being shot at point blank range. he was reluctant to see a therapist at first because he didn't like what it said about him that he was being more or less strong armed into seeing a shrink (like no one trusts him anymore; they don't think his head's on straight since being shot), but as time goes on, he grows to cherish the relationship he's cultivated with his therapist because,
well,
she understands him. she listens to him. where everyone else seems to want him to just hurry up and get better (the nightmares, the mid-sentence brain fog, the erratic mood swings, the silent brooding when he can't find the words, aphasia on the tip of his tongue, the constant, constant headaches and auditory hallucinations that he can't seem to kick), she doesn't put any pressure on him to heal right away. she works with him and his medical team; gives him the space to process what happened to him, and has a seemingly bottomless wealth of patience for him.
he can talk for hours in her presence. it's a shame their time together is limited to an hour and a half every week. the dulcet sound of her voice is such a comfort to him. it's a shame she politely but firmly rejects his advances when he finally asks her out, tells him that it wouldn't even be appropriate for them to be friends outside of his sessions. that it would in some way hinder his healing journey. which pisses him off because Soap has progressed in leaps and bounds since those early days when he used to stumble over his words sitting on the couch across from her, head in his hands when the language felt beyond his grasp, a fine tremor still running through his hands that he's since managed to contain,
and
his head is throbbing again. a sharp pain above his eye that pulsates like a drum in his head and -
he thinks about her constantly. in and out of sessions. she's a frequent topic of conversation when the brass finally lets him back out in the field, Makarov finally dealt with (resting six feet deep in an unmarked grave). he ignores the looks oscillating between concern and worry that Price gives him. ignores the way Ghost barks at him to quit bothering the bird in the tight skirt and fuck someone that won't get him discharged. ignores the way Gaz pulls him to the side to ask if maybe he needs to see another therapist, y'know, mate...get some distance.
they act like this is something new. an abberation and not his very nature. like he hasn't always been the type to lock onto a scent like a hunting dog. a sniper by training. he sits and he watches and he waits; waits for the right moment that he alone knows.
it comes to him on an inauspicious day, when he's leaving the training facilities and spots his sweet thing rummaging around in the boot of her car, her ass beckoning him forward like a siren's call. now, now, now, the little itch in his head says, the voice that knows when the time is right. it's a sense acquired through conscious and unconscious observation, letting it all filter into his frontal cortex until he knows without knowing that the parking lot is empty apart from the two of them and the men at the base gates half a mile away.
it would take nothing for him to come up behind her and push her into the boot. nothing to wrestle the purse from her hands and slam the trunk shut. nothing to drive off base with a flick of his fingers to the guards that hardly ever bother to question him before he leaves (though they know what car he actually drives), made complacent by familiarity.
and he knows that it's wrong, knows that there's a line that he shouldn't cross, that choices have consequences, but,
his mouth salivates when her hips twitch, the urge to take settling over him. surely they'd forgive him one indiscretion.
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hello-eden · 1 month
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 Surprise Reflection
Red robin feels like he has been hit by a truck. He has no idea why he feels like this. He knows for a fact he was drugged and not hit over the head but there are more important things to worry about.
He wakes up tied to a chair with both rope and handcuffs. it's going to take a minute to get out. He looks around at his captors who make it very obvious that his initial guess of cult is correct.
There's a summoning Circle in the middle of the room that they're working on. He has no idea what there's summoning. No one's turned around to look at him and started villain monologuing to tell him. He sees two other people tied up and he recognizes them. 
Red hood and spoiler in gear, which is an unexpected surprise he thought they were off tonight. Hood is still conked out but spoiler is awake and gagged. He wonders if she bit one of the cultists or if she tried Nightwings favorite tactic to be as annoying as possible. 
He's busy trying to unravel the rope silently all the sudden he hears chanting. That is the worst thing to happen at this moment. He has basically zero backup as hood is incapacitated and spoiler is just as tied up as him.
Red robin tries to is yelling at the cultist trying to figure out what's going on or at least distracting them with the fact he's awake but they don't seem to hear him.
A being appeared in a blinding flash of white light. There is an unsettling feeling in the air that seemed to emerge with them.
Their eyes glowing such a bright green that you could barely make out the shapes of their face. Their hair seems to come down to their hips alternating from black to white. Their body forming itself right in front of their eyes turning into something not quite human but trying to be. the being turned to survey the room from the cultist to the heroes trying to stop whatever ritual this was.
“ WHO DARES” the being said, sounding as if they've been insulted.
“ Oh great being of chaos and Power, we have come before you to ask for a boon ” one of the cult members came forward to say.
“what is this boon you wish for” The being asks clearly not wanting to be here.
 “if the mighty one would will it we would be most grateful to have the ones known as the Justice League destroyed”
 The Being stopped for a moment as if trying to figure out what the cult leader had just said.
“Is this a fu*king cult”
That stopped everyone in their tracks. 
“I would not call it a cult, I would call it a group created to promote your greatness.” the cult member says trying to save the situation.  
“ That's a cult,“ The Beings seem to start laughing as they realize who had summoned them. ”is this seriously what's going on. who the hell even is this Justice League that you've decided they need to be destroyed.”
“ They are people who promote the destruction of ourselves and have been working too stop the spread of your greatness.”
“ Your majesty,”  Red Robin says, hoping to swing this one there way as it's obvious whatever this thing it is not exactly fond of Cults. “We are Protectors of the place that these people have been trying to destroy.”
 “Are you trying to make me go against Heroes” The Being said, even without a clear look at their face you could tell they're in disbelief.
“You Dare,” The anger in their voice makes it very clear they are dangerous ”I am created from one of Realm's Greatest protectors. you dare try and make me destroy Heroes. I will enjoy giving you to the nightmare dimension”
Another bright light appeared though this time instead of just being inside the circle it covered the entire room. This time the light was a ombre of green and blue. Once the light dispersed all of the cult members seemed to have disappeared.
In the center of the room where the summoning Circle originally was stands a girl. her eyes are the same bright green with white hair but this time with a human face. A familiar face. She's wearing jeans with a constellation hoodie and matching Converse.
“apologies for the inconvenience I do quite hate when I'm summoned” The girl disappears just as she finishes speaking. 
It took Red Robin a while to realize what was confusing him but the second she left he realized. She had Damian's face. From the shape of his nose and the resemblance to Bruce even down to the bright Lazarus green eyes. She was a mirror image and he had no idea what that meant for them.
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lovemebutleavemewild · 3 months
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Wasn't actually going to do a part 2 to this mafia!Price x pregnant reader drabble but a few people requested it so ...
I don't think this will be a long fic or a series or anything but if anyone has by particular requests for scenes, let me know!
You take the table's orders quickly and almost trip getting away from them.
John follows you immediately, of course, but if you can just get to the kitchen, he won't be able to follow you.
Or so you think.
The doors don't have time to swing shut behind you before they burst open again and you feel a hand on your waist, spinning you around to face him.
"You're taking your break," he tells you.
"I can't yet, I have tables. And-"
You see your manager approaching and brace yourself for the tirade.
"Sir, you can't be in h-"
He stops when he gets a proper look at John.
"Oh. Um, is there a problem, sir? Or some way I can-"
"She's taking her break," John tells him, jerking his thumb at you. Your manager just nods mutely and John takes your hand, leading you out the back entrance.
"Beat it," he tells the line cook, smoking by the bins. The man slinks back inside without a word.
As soon as you're alone, John shepherds you against the wall, arm on either side of you so you're walled in.
"It's mine?" he asks and you try not to be offended. It's a fair question, you suppose. You just nod, looking at your shoes. He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. You can't read the look on his face.
"Finish your shift. I'll wait."
+++++++
He takes you home, makes the others take a cab wherever they're going, and just gives you a look when you suggest you can take the bus.
He also insists on walking you inside. Your face warms at the way he's analysing your apartment building. When you hold the door to your place open for him, he rubs his hand along the doorframe, studying the lock, heads straight for the windows to do the same once he's inside.
"We'll need to get you moved out of here," he says when he finally turns around. You raise  your eyebrows.
"Is that right?" you ask. If he notices the sarcasm, he doesn't comment.
"Mmmhmm. Could get the lads to pack up your stuff for you, handle the movin'. We could have it done tonight"
"And where do you suggest I go?"
John smiles and sidles towards you.
"I could think of a few places," he says, raising his eyebrows. You huff a laugh.
"Hmm. But there's nothing wrong with my apartment."
John just hums.
"Not a good area," he tells you.
You start to feel your temper rise a little.
"Think whatever you want of the area; You don't get to walk in here and tell me-"
"Well I am telling you darlin'. I know these parts and 'round here isn't a good place for a girl like you."
"A girl like me?" you ask flatly, crossing your arms. You force yourself not to move away from him as he gets in your space. You can smell him from here, the scent of his cologne, and doesn't that bring back memories.
He leans down so he's looking into your eyes properly.
"A good girl," he says.
You snort and turn away.
"Does that line usually work for you?"
In a second, you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you back against a hard chest.
"Worked before, didn't it?" His voice is raspy in your ear.
"You didn't mind being my good girl the last time we spoke, did ya, sweetheart? Or can you only be good when you're stuffed full?"
He presses harder against your back and you can feel the length of him now.
"'Cause I can help you with that, love, just you say the word."
You pull away, turn to look at him, with your chest heaving.
"Place like this could be dangerous for a girl like you," John says and it sounds like a warning.
"Aren't men like you what makes places like this dangerous?" you whisper.
He steps towards you again, slower this time, puts a hand on your hip. You don't pull away.
"Sometimes," he admits. "Not always. Need to make sure you're taken care of, from all the bad things out there. Goes for both of you."
"I don't need taken care of," you tell him. It would sound more convincing to your own ears if you could find it in yourself to pull your hand off his chest.
"No?" His hand suddenly dips between your legs and you jolt forwards into him.
"You been taking care of yourself here, hmm?" He starts to rub, over your work leggings, leans down so his head is nearly on your shoulder.
"Been taking care of this pretty pussy like it needs?" he asks, voice rough. "It was so needy that night we met, I was sure we'd go a few rounds. Why'd you run instead, sweetheart? I didn't even get a chance to taste it."
You can't answer, can't think, especially not when he shoves his same hand under your pants, sliding your underwear to one side for better access. Your head falls back when he touches your clit.
"Need me to take of you here, darlin'?"
You can't help your moan.
"Not good enough," he grunts. "Need you to say it, love. Say you need me to take care of this pussy."
And you've been so stressed for so long and, really, at this point, what harm could it possibly do?
"Please, please, John, I need you. I need-need-"
He quietens you with a kiss, leaning down to lift you by your thighs. The bump makes it a bit awkward but he doesn't falter as he makes his way to your room.
"All you needed to say, mama."
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fallenneziah · 11 months
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Summary: You've been known to sleep around with the soldiers on base. It wasn't a secret. It also wasn't a secret that you fake most of your orgasms... Ghost takes that as a challenge.
CW: PiV, afab! Reader, uses she/her, multiple orgasms, rough sex, creampie, oral (m! receiving), overstimulation, fingering, and the reader is pretty much a barracks bunny. Not beta read... still doing smut though I can never tell if it gets better.
A/n: I really wanted to do kinktober but I was late... So um, have this??
It wasn't a secret that you were something of a barracks bunny. You caught the eye of recruits, and whoever of them made your insides tingle you were more than likely to spend a night with. You didn't care to try and keep it a secret. Although, your sexual experiences with most of the recruits and the younger men were… less than world-shaking.
They were good, their dick often leaving you mostly satisfied and feeling like you've had a five-inch stake driven into your cunt for ten to twenty minutes.
But you were also rumoured and soon confirmed to fake most of your orgasms. Sure, the hookups were fun, but you did end up faking most of your orgasms because it simply didn't do it for you.
Whether the recruit was rough or gentle, something was missing that pushed you over the edge.
But hey, you let the recruits get their load off you, so they weren't complaining either way.
Except for a certain someone.
Ghost was hardly the person you'd find sleeping around with anyone, men or women. The occasional quick fuck void of attachment and emotions back home in his small Manchester flat wasn't new though.
Once he fucked someone's brains out, they were out the door and not to set foot again. He didn't think anything of this. It's how it was, how it would continue to be.
But the constant talk of your happy little ass sleeping with every relatively attractive recruit in sight ticked something inside him.
Maybe he secretly wished he could get a hold of you, tame you down, get you down on your knees, and ensure you stayed.
Perhaps the idea of making you his bitch and getting you away from the other sources of pleasure you could find.
And then he learned about it. Little missy wandering around, getting fucked left and right, and every orgasm has to be driven out of her by herself. Something about that. About knowing you faked each orgasm with each soldier just to fuck yourself silly until it hit right.
These recruits were insufferable. None of them could drive you out of this little spiral you thought you had to control. Fuck a man, fake an orgasm and then sleep it off like nothing.
That's the challenge. That's what Ghost saw. A challenge and a reward. And he knew you'd been wanting to sleep with him for ages. He knew, and he wasn't as dimwitted as some people liked to think.
He practically bristled when he saw you walk into the canteen that afternoon, hips swinging, a small stiff in your step, but you looked mostly in one piece. Another recruit following behind you, looking on a mission to tell his squadmates of the night he had with you.
It made his hands tighten, and whiskey eyes lock on you as you walked past, seeming fine regardless of the night. His hand reached out, firmly gripping your hip so you couldn't go any further, capturing your attention.
"Lieutenant?" You asked, your eyes shifting from his large gloved hand up his forearm to meet his gaze.
"You best get yourself in check, soldier," he warned in a low tone, his hand squeezing your hip, nudging you back, his voice growing quieter.
"My barracks. Midnight."
Your cheeks went a little pink. You had the hots for the lieutenant for a lifetime. Part of you felt he would give you something you desperately needed, yet he's never spared you more than a glance.
You smirk softly. "You got it."
He doesn't respond at all. His hand releases you, and he lets you on your way.
You made it to your table, sitting among a small group you'd accumulated over your few years on base. The thought of getting in a bed with your lieutenant was now fresh on your mind, already having your stomach twisting.
However… You'd yet to meet someone truly who could make you feel how you wanted to. Roughed up, played with, fucked until your brain was smoother than a stone, and your name was a challenge to recall.
Was it that hard to ask?? You couldn't help feeling you might be sourly disappointed.
But you'd wait. Also making sure things in your room are charged just in case the night turned as you hoped it wouldn't.
The day drew on, and you continued through your tasks, finishing your work just in time to catch a shower and spend some alone time in your room as you pleased before your wristwatch beeped.
It was about time to see a certain lieutenant.
Ghost was waiting for you. How you figured he wouldn't was a wonder, but you didn't expect him to be standing there. Right there.
You slipped into the room, closing the door behind you. The lights were off, and his silhouette blocked the little light coming through the closed blinds. Your fingers search for the light switch, but his hand stops you.
Gloves still on, he pulls your wrist away, the other hand finding the lock on the door behind you and flicking it closed.
You already felt your heart rate picking up in excitement as he maneuvered through the darkness of his room, keeping you against the wall and at his whim.
"I didn't think it would start like this." You say, your back arching off the wall a tad before relaxing against when his figure pressed closer.
"Wrong of you to think you'd get a say."
His rumbled voice makes you shiver softly.
"I'm not complaining."
He seemed to scoff, pressing against you and making you suck in a sharp breath. His crotch pressing against your own, his large hands gripping your waist to hold you in place.
"Not yet."
He sounded like a predator about to sink his teeth into you, and it was such a turn-on.
His gloved hands grip your hips, lifting you from the floor and pulling your legs up around his waist. You can feel the thick outline of his cock, and it makes you gasp softly.
He takes you to the bed, dumping you onto the sheets. His hands find your clothes, pulling them from you, stripping you down to your underwear. He wasn't wasting time, your eyes adjusting and letting you see more of his figure clearly as he moved your limbs how he wanted to.
He was commanding, your body felt like putty in his hands, and you weren't sure you wanted to fight it.
Your cunt throbbed as he tugged you up the bed by your hips, crawling between your legs and forcing them apart.
His rough gloves feel foreign against your skin, tugging your underwear from your hips and tossing the thin fabric off the bed.
"Stay still." His voice rumbles through your body again. Your first thought of those scarred lips going for what they wanted. One hand kept your hips still, situating his body between your legs so you couldn't do much to fight him if you wanted to. You shiver, watching him pull his mask up over the bridge of his nose and pull his glove off between his teeth.
The second glove gets pulled off, and he lets it fall onto the bed next to you. The sound of his belt coming undone, the leather sliding against itself. His zipper came down, and he freed his cock.
You were already squirming, wanting to feel it. His large hand presses against your stomach, pushing you back down into the bed. "Easy. Keep still." His hand slides back down, your breathing stopping briefly when you felt his calloused thumb rub your clit. He was quiet, pressing up into your body, gently massaging it.
It makes you shiver, his index finger rubbing through your labia and down to your slit, tracing his fingers around your entrance. Feeling how tight you were despite your nasty habit of seeking out other men. He knows you could be so much tighter, knowing what a fucking slut you were.
Pressing his finger into your entrance, the warmth of your walls tightening around him, feeling him slip inside you. He doesn't give a warning before his second finger presses into you, both invading the warmth of your cunt. "That's it." His fingers pump into you, rubbing along your walls, rough callouses giving you a hint of edge with each stroke.
Your hands grip the sheets as he works his fingers inside you, a third slipping in as he feels the stretch of your walls. His palm rubs your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath and moan. It was a little too loud, causing Ghost to withdraw his fingers from you and grab your thigh.
He flips you over, his hand grabbing your face and shoving it into the bed. You startle a little, tensing up, but he knocks your knees apart again and forces his fingers back in, his other hand keeping your head firmly planted in the pillows. Your cunt clenches around his fingers. They work inside you quicker, pressing into your walls and driving inside you.
"Stay. I never allowed you to get loud, pretty thing." Ghost rumbles, feeling your cunt clench, dripping in excitement as his large fingers pick up pace inside your cunt.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were on edge. Your hands grip the sheets, hips starting to rock against his hand. Your breath comes out in small pants, muffled by the pillow. His large fingers felt so good inside you. Better than any recruit you've laid with.
You squirm, and as quickly as you do, his hand moves from your head to span your ass, cupping the perfectly round flesh and squeezing it between his fingers. His fingers pick up pace, driving deep into your cunt, fast and barely giving you time. Slick popping from his quick pace inside you. His fingers bullying your cunt, finding your g-spot and hitting relentlessly.
Your hips twitch, your back arching, and you can't help but moan loudly when you hit that first orgasm.
Ghost smirks, the scar along his lip pulling the skin up slightly. He pulls his fingers out, drawing them apart to see your slick and spend ripping between them. Your body shivering a little. "One." He counts, tasting your cum on his fingers.
He turns you onto your back, leaning over your body and pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. The taste of your cum and his saliva made your head spin, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as he kisses you.
You moan into his mouth as his hand slides between your legs, cupping your cunt and rubbing your clit. Your hips jump a little, his rough palm pressed against your lower pelvis, his fingers teasing along your slick cunt.
He nips your bottom lip, pushing you away before the kiss can properly end and keeps you held down in the sheets, his hand curling around your throat while the other continues to rub through your labia. Teasing your clit, rubbing it and pinching it. "Cumming for me already…" Ghost rumbled. "Just like I knew you would."
"I'm not done with you yet."
You moan, your head pressing back into the sheets as you start to rock your hips. Trying to feel more of his rough fingers, wanting his fingers back inside you.
"Beg." His tone is firm, and commanding. You look up at him through half-lidded eyes.
"Please," you moan, watching him grin and press his fingers against your hole.
"Please, what?"
You squirm, pressing your hips into his fingers. "Please fuck me with your fingers."
You could swear he was mocking you, slowly pushing his fingers back into your cunt.
"You can do better than that," Ghost taunts.
You whimper, trying to nudge your hips back, and you feel his fingers pull away. He forces your thigh further out again, teasing your clit with his thumb. You mumble under your breath, trying to lean away, his fingers stroking along your slit again.
"Please… I need them. I need this, please." You whine, once again trying not to squirm with your desperation growing in place of your excitement.
His fingers press back into your cunt, and you moan. Your hips jolt, rolling against his hand as he drives his fingers into your cunt, hitting deep inside you. "Fuck. Fuck, I- ah-"
He doesn't hold you down like before, allowing your hips to move, fucking his fingers, your slick making obscene sounds.
Your lips part, moaning over his hand, still firm on your throat, fingers pulling you apart. Driving into you, his eyes watching your face in the darkness with each desperate thrust up into his fingers. Looking like a pathetic whore. But that's how Ghost wanted you.
That's how he liked it. He would ruin you. He'd show those recruits how it was done, and cut you down a peg. He'd get you so overfucked you'd only be able to remember his name.
His fingers bullying your g-spot, knuckles coated in your slick, the walls of your cunt flexing around him. Once again, before long, he had you drawn out, moaning loudly.
He pulls his fingers out of you, the sticky string slick between his fingers as he pulls them apart. "Two," he counts, watching you pant, hips squirming and thighs quivering.
Ghost leans down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His fingers press to your lips, pushing them past. You groan, sucking on his fingers, tasting you on his hand. Sucking them and running your tongue along them until he pulled out, lightly slapping your face. His other hand released your throat.
He moved back on the bed, planting his feet back on the floor and pushing down his jeans over his thighs more, taking his large cock in his hand.
"Hands and knees, sweetheart."
You panted, knees still quivering, but you shifted onto your stomach, onto your hands and knees. Looking up at him, smirking. The smirk didn't bother Ghost, he already had you under him. He was already the first way through ruining you, so many would never really pleasure you again like he did.
Tapping his cock against your cheek, letting you feel the weight and the size against you.
"Open," he orders, watching you part your lips and lean forward to take the head between your lips. Your tongue runs across it, eyes shut.
He gripped your hair, yanking you forward and forcing you to take half his cock down your throat. Gagging on it tears stinging the corners of your eyes as he forced you further down, fucking your mouth.
"If you're gonna suck it, do it like you mean it." He spits, driving his cock into your throat, hearing your desperate noises, trying to draw in the air over his cock suffocating your throat. Feeling the smooth skin of his heavy cock against your tongue. The skin pulls back over his head along your tongue.
You could feel him, his cock dragging deep into your warm throat and then pulling out, giving you a much steadier rhythm for redemption.
He didn't give you a chance to take control, keeping his grip firm on your hair and driving himself into your throat.
You gag around him, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, eyes watering as he keeps you there, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your lips.
The heaviness of his cock on your tongue, salty pre-cum pooling at the back of your throat, tongue gliding over throbbing cockhead.
Ghost pulls his cock from your mouth, slapping your cheek with it and then forcing it back between your lips. He pulls your head back, pressing his cock back into your throat, his balls slapping your chin as he fucks your throat.
The sting in your eyes and the way your lungs burned made your head spin. You could feel your cunt dripping, wanting to feel him inside you.
He didn't let you keep it that steady.
Your head bobbed along his cock, spit coating his length and slicking up your cheeks, the sound of him fucking your mouth. It's what he wanted, making you choke and gag on his cock.
It let you know who was in control. Not you. You wouldn't have one ounce of control.
You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth. You moaned around him, looking up at him. His hand tightened in your hair, keeping your head still while he fucked your mouth, groaning under his breath.
He pulled out, holding you firmly in place so you couldn't chase his cock.
"On your back. Now."
You do as he says, turning onto your back and spreading your legs.
Ghost pushes his jeans down further, grabbing your legs and tugging them around his waist. His hand presses against your lower stomach, pushing you down into the bed while his other hand grips the base of his cock.
You whimper, trying to keep your eyes on him and watch him as he strokes his cock, keeping you in place. You attempt to squirm, but he keeps you still, ordering you to stay quiet. He drags his cock through your soaked cunt, pre-cum slathering across your clit and dripping down into the mess of your cunt.
"Lieutenant, please," you whimper, hips trying to press up, and he pushes you back down.
"Please what?" Ghost asks, smirking down at you. He was so in control here, you were the one under him. You were the one who was going to get fucked tonight.
"Please, I need you inside me."
"Mmm, you're such a slut… bet you'd take any cock, wouldn't you sweetheart?" His cock smacks against your clit, making your hips jump a little.
"Just yours."
He smirked. "That's what I like to hear."
He pushed forward, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside you. Your breath catches in your throat, back arching, trying to force more of him into you. He presses his palm into your lower stomach, pushing you back into the mattress. His cock gradually slides inside you, stretching you more, feeling the tightness of your cunt trying to handle a size it wasn't used to.
His hips press forward, feeding his cock into your cunt and stretching you out so nicely. You felt so good around him. Tight, warm, clenching at the size of his cock.
"That's it, such a good girl."
He starts a slow pace, driving his cock in and out of your cunt. Making you feel him, feel every inch of his cock. His hand moves from your stomach, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. It was too much, the sensations making you moan loudly.
"Shhh, quiet. You don't get to do that," Ghost orders.
You whimper, nodding your head and trying to lean your head back into the pillow. His cock plunges into you harder.
"Do I need to gag you again, sweetheart?"
He gripped your hair and pulled your head back harshly to look back at him. His hips snapped forward, thrusting his cock deep into your cunt.
"N-no. I won't." You say.
His grip loosens, but he continues to fuck you, hips snapping forward suddenly. Your thighs squeeze either side of his hips, heels digging into the skin of his ass as he lifts your hips with his cock.
"Mmm, I think it's more you don't want to." Ghost says.
You whimper, nodding your head. You wanted to be a good girl for him. You want to be quiet for him. But it was almost impossible as he fucked your brain out.
"You're so wet for me, so tight. I bet you cum just from thinking about me, don't you?"
You nod your head, moaning and biting your lip to try and stifle your noises.
His hands grip your waist, pulling you down into his cock and making you take it all.
Your pussy throbs around his cock, his thickness, utterly wrecking your cunt. His cock bullying your insides, finding your g-spot and making you come undone again, orgasming around his cock.
Ghost pulls his cock out, watching you squirm and moan loudly. "Three." He counts. He flips you back over, firmly pressing his hand into your hip.
He leans over you, shoving your face into the pillow and spanking your ass. "I thought I told you to be quiet."
He pushes his cock back inside you, gripping your hips and holding you still as he fucks you.
"One was for being a good girl."
You yelp as he slaps your ass again.
"Two was for being a slut."
You whimper, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
He keeps his hand pressed into your hips and keeps your ass upturned. His hips snap forward, driving his cock deep inside your cunt.
"And three will be for never listening to me. Because you're a bad girl. My bad girl."
His cock smacks against you when he pulls out, making you moan loudly. His hand moved from your hip, jerking your chin up and forcing you to look into his eyes.
"What are you?" He asks, cock slamming back into you.
"I'm a bad girl," you mewl out.
"That's right, baby," He says, leaning down and biting your neck. You cry out, moaning loudly. His hand grabbed your hair, tugging your head back and holding your neck.
"Mine." Ghost growls into your ear.
He slams his cock deep inside you, making you moan loudly. Your pussy clenched around him, gripping his cock tightly. He grunted, his hips thrusting forward and slamming his cock into you.
You cry out in pleasure, yet want it to stop.
He smirks widely. "Look at you…" He chuckles, leaning into your ear. "Like this for me… just like this… like a slut."
You moan loudly, your cunt throbbing around his cock. Your hands grip the sheets tightly, trying to keep yourself steady as he fucks you.
"Such a good girl…" He groans, his voice husky and breathless. "Such a good slut."
You shiver, nodding your head.
Ghost pushes your body down into the bed, lifting your ass further and continuing to fuck you. His fingers grip your ass tightly, his nails digging into your skin. "Do you like this? Getting fucked by your lieutenant?" He asks, his hand moving to your lower back, pushing you down further. "Fuck, who am I kidding… I know you do."
You whimper pitifully. You were so close again.
Ghost slaps your ass again, smirking. "I like it when you're a slut for me. What about you, baby?"
You whimper, nodding your head. "I like being your slut."
"I think you do, sweetheart…" He says.
You nod your head, moaning and whimpering in excitement. Ghost smirks, giving your ass a hard slap. "Beg for it…"
You whimpered. "Please- please fuck-" You say, moaning out.
"Keep begging…" He says, pulling out. He pulls your hips up, making you kneel up on the bed. He pushes your chest down, causing your ass to stick up in the air, exposed and ready for his cock. He spanks your ass, making you yelp.
"I bet you'd like to be fucked by me all day, wouldn't you? Be my little cock-sleeve." He says, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
He slaps your ass again, spanking you.
You whimper, trying to plead with him.
He grips your hips, slamming into you hard. His cock drives inside you, wrecking your cunt and filling you. His fingers dig into your hips and ass, holding you still as he fucks you.
He pulls you up, pushing his cock deep inside you and making you cry. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back into him.
"Oh god," you moan, your head leaning back into his shoulder.
"Fuck, you feel so good, baby…" Ghost groans.
"Please," you cry out. "N-no more…" The overstimulation to your pussy was too much.
His hips snap hard against you, his cock thrusting into you hard.
He pulls you back up, making you sit up on his lap. He leans you back against his chest, his hand moving to your hip. He registers your cry of pleasure as his cock thrusts into you again and again, his hips snapping forward.
He reaches around you, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. You moan loudly, leaning back against him.
Ghost leans down and nibbles at your neck.
You feel his cock swell inside you, pulsing and throbbing inside you. He could feel his undoing soon. He bites down on your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He thrusts his cock into you, hitting deep inside you and making your toes curl.
He grabs your hips, pulling them down and burying his cock deep inside you. He feels his cock throb and swell, filling your cunt with his seed.
He grunts loudly, holding you down against his cock as he rides out his orgasm. You moan, gripping his shoulders and pushing back against him.
"Mmm… that's it sweetheart… take all of it… cum for me…" Ghost moans.
His cock throbs inside you, spurting his load into your cunt. You moan loudly, feeling your release. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking as you cum around his cock. One last time before your body felt completely boneless, the dry orgasm pumping around the load of seed filling you deep, swelling in your cunt. Ghost pants, holding you up against him as he breathes heavily, your body limp in his arms. He kisses your shoulder softly, rubbing your belly.
"That was… mmm…" Ghost says, licking his lips and kissing your neck. "So good…"
You pant softly, leaning your head back and looking up at him. "I'm tired."
He chuckles lightly. "Go ahead and sleep… I'll clean you up."
"Okay." You smile a little. He helps you lie down on the bed, pulling his softening cock from your cunt. You feel the warm mess seep from you, coating your thighs and making you shiver.
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lanadelnegan · 1 year
Text
My Girl
S7!Negan x Reader
Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??
OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.
Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket
A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.
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"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.
Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.
I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.
The more I get to see him, the merrier.
I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.
"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.
"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.
"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."
His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.
"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.
I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.
"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.
"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.
"Hey, doll. Miss me?"
"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.
"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."
Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.
There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.
When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.
"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.
"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.
He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.
I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.
"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.
My face burns with embarrassment at his words.
"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.
"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"
Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.
"Negan... I need you."
"I know baby." He breathes out.
My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.
"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.
"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.
"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."
I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.
The big dick energy definitely checks out.
I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.
"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.
"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."
I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"
"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."
Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.
"Deeper, y/n." He demands.
When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.
"Bend over."
"W-what?"
"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.
I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.
"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."
He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.
"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.
I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.
I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.
He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.
"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.
"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.
"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"
My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.
"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."
"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."
He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"
I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."
"Then it's a deal, baby."
"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.
He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.
"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."
"Simon's keeping watch, doll."
His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"
He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."
My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.
"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"
I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.
"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.
He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.
He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.
My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.
"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.
"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.
"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"
"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.
He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.
I quickly get up and fix my dress.
"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.
Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.
"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."
"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."
"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."
Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.
"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.
"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.
Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.
"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.
"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.
"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.
Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."
My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.
Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."
"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.
I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.
A few hours later:
The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.
What if he doesn't come..
What if it's a trap..
What if he lied about everything he said..
Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..
Shut up. He wouldn't do that.
This is a bad idea. What am I doing.
Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.
"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.
"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"
I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."
He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.
"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"
"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.
"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.
He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.
My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.
"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.
He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.
"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."
He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"
I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."
I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."
"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.
I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"
That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.
I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."
He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.
"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.
Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"
"No, I want to."
He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."
I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.
"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."
"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.
I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.
“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”
I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.
Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.
“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.
I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.
"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.
My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.
"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.
I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.
“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.
He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.
“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.
He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"
I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.
"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.
My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.
I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.
"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.
"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."
"Touch me, Negan. Please."
"Please what?"
"Please Negan."
He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.
His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.
"Try again, doll."
"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.
"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.
I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.
"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.
My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.
"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."
He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.
"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.
After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.
"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"
Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.
"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.
This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.
"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."
He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.
"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"
"Yes! Please." I whine.
He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.
I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.
"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"
"He's not here, sweetheart."
"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.
"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.
"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"
"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."
"And.. and he gave it to you?!"
Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."
The next morning:
My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.
What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..
I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.
"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.
"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.
"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.
He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.
"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.
"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.
"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.
He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.
My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.
"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.
"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."
"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."
"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."
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The End.
3K notes · View notes
malum-forev · 6 months
Text
Dr. Bee
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Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.
Bucky x Nurse!Mom!Reader
Bucky Barnes has many names. James Buchanan Barnes, Buck, The Winter Soldier, Sergeant. 
But on compound grounds, and in hushed tones, he’s usually called an asshole. 
He’s developed quite the reputation. Being difficult is his natural state of being. 
Bucky is constantly late to meetings, doesn’t show up for media days and is always going rogue in missions.
He doesn’t know why he does it, Dr. Raynor says it’s a coping mechanism, but that doesn’t make Bucky want to change one bit. He stays away from people and makes it everyone’s problem when someone decides to talk in his vicinity. 
Sam has tried to talk to him but, as per usual whatever the Falcon says, Bucky does the opposite. Sam’s even tried to convince everyone that Bucky’s like an untrained dog, he needs some kind of exposure therapy. Having people stand up to him and flat out call him what he is, that’s what he needs. 
Sadly for everyone who works with Bucky Barnes, no one has the balls to do it. 
But, everything changed one day. 
Everyone scurried away once the quinjet landed at the Avengers compound. They’d gotten word from someone in Logistics that the mission had gone terribly and the agents had barely come out alive. 
Bucky stormed into the med bay, his heels digging into the floor with such force you’d think it break, only to find it desolate. 
He huffed twice, looking around for anyone who could help with a deep cut on his right arm. 
“Hello?!” He yelled out, his temples throbbing and his left eye twitching. 
Bucky Barnes waited for no one. 
“May I help you?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at the meek voice coming from behind the nurse’s station. His confusion only grew deeper when he didn’t find anyone there. 
A few seconds later a tiny hand popped up, wiggling its chubby fingers at him. 
“I said,” The little voice drew out the last word, annoyed. “May I help you?”
Bucky leaned forward and peeked behind the large desk to find a little girl.
Standing with her hands on her hips, the little girl with pigtails looked up at him with raised eyebrows. 
Her expression turned to one of concern.
“Are you hard of hearing?” The girl spoke slowly and loudly.
Bucky almost had to cover his ears from the shrill and very high tone of the girl. 
“I am not hard of hearing.” Bucky finally responded. 
“Then why didn’t you respond?” Little miss pigtails crosses her arms over her chest. “I asked you: may I help you?” 
His right eye accompanied his left one in twitching.
After he didn’t respond, the little girl scribbled something down on a paper in front of her. 
“What are you writing?” Bucky said through gritted teeth, how can a person so small get on his nerves so quickly?
“I can’t tell you.” She said in a singsong tone. 
“Why not?”
“You’re not my patient.” She shrugs, rounding the nurse’s bay holding a pink unicorn lunch box, coming face to face with The Winter Soldier. Actually it was more like coming face to knee height. “Can’t talk to people who aren’t my patients. Doctor patient villigage.”
Bucky bit his bottom lip to conceal a smile. “I think you mean doctor patient privilege.” 
“How would you know? You’re not my patient.” The little girl swung her lunchbox, skipping all the way to the waiting room. 
He was equally shocked and impressed. This little girl had more balls than most of the agents he worked with. 
Bucky looked around the med bay for anyone who knew the girl. Mom, dad, cousin, hell he’d even settle for a dog. 
With a groan, he followed behind her. Sure, he was a dickhead but he couldn’t let a kid wander around the Avengers med bay all by herself. 
She sat down, opening the lunch box and taking the contents out.
Bucky couldn’t help but think it was cute how her feet didn’t reach the floor. As he came closer, her swinging feet hit him in the shins. 
He let out an obviously fake and over the top groan, throwing himself on the floor. 
The little girl covered her mouth but her giggles bubbled around the room. 
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Bucky asked from his position on the ground. “That really hurt.”
“No it didn’t!” She laughed harder. 
“Yes it did!” 
“I know nothing can hurt you!” She said as her giggles died down. “I know who you are.”
“You do, huh?” Bucky sat next to her.
“Mhm.” She said proudly, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “But my mommy says I can’t repeat the names she calls you.”
Bucky suddenly felt embarrassed. Dickhead, motherfucker, bastard, asshole had a whole different meaning now that he knew the little girl thought they were synonymous to Bucky.
“Well then,” Bucky cleared his throat. “I should reintroduce myself. My name is James Buchanan Barnes but people usually call me Bucky.”
The little girl placed her tiny hand in his and shook it. “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name so, you can call me Bee.”
Bucky nodded his head once, he almost didn’t notice the peanut butter she’d smeared on his hand. “Well Bee, does you mommy or daddy work here?”
Bee shrugs her shoulders. “Can’t tell you.”
He takes a deep breath in. “Can you tell me how you got here?”
“Nope.” She takes another bite of her sandwich. 
“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”
“Nuh uh.”
Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Is this because of the doctor patient privilege?” 
“Yep.” Bee smiles up at him and this time Bucky can’t help but smile back. A blooming feeling erupted in his chest. 
Bucky looked down at his hand, trying to find his most surface level wound. Something that wouldn’t traumatize the girl who’s no more than seven years old. 
“Dr. Bee, I need your help. Do you have anything for this cut?” Bucky points to the small cut on his knuckle. She didn’t have to know how it came to be, or who’s cheekbone had caused it.
“Thertainly Mr. Bucky.” Bee’s missing front teeth were responsible for her lisp. She jumped off of the chair and hurried behind the nurse’s station.
She swiftly wrapped his knuckles in gauze. 
“Do you need me to look over your other arm?” Bee asked sincerely.
“I don’t think you can help with this one.” Bucky chuckled, knocking on the vibranium. “Unless you have anti rust spray.”
Bee threw her head back with laughter but the cute sound was cut short by a door slamming open. 
His mind went blank the second he saw her. Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off of her, even his jaw went slack. He tried to memorize every single detail of her. Her hair, her eyes, her body, the blue scrubs she wore. 
“Bee!” She gasped, taking the little girl in her arms. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I told you to stay in the common room!”
“Don’t worry mommy!” She smiles up at the woman who’s taken Bucky’s mind hostage. “I’ve been with Bucky!”
The woman finally looks over at Bucky and he’s sure the world has stopped. 
But reality comes crashing down when her eyes lose some of their light. 
“Mr. Barnes.” She gasps, pulling Bee to stand behind her body. “I’m so terribly sorry about her, she wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Bucky gulps down the nervous feeling in his throat. He can’t help but feel like the biggest idiot in this universe. 
All he’s done for the past few years is be cold, and rude, and now the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, who’s got the cutest most outspoken daughter in the tri state area, is apologizing. 
His brain runs out of words and he just stands there. 
Bucky keeps quiet as the woman sutures up the wound on his arm, he’d completely forgotten about it. 
“Bee’s your daughter?” He manages to speak up after a few minutes. 
The woman nods with a smile, keeping her eyes on his wound but Bucky begs the cosmos she looks up at him, even if it’s just for a second. He wouldn’t care if she messes up, if it means their eyes could meet.
Bucky’s kept himself away from feelings for years. He convinced himself he doesn’t need them. But in a quick thirty minutes, Bee and her amazingly beautiful mother have stirred up more emotions than he’s had in the last two decades. 
“She-“ Bucky clears his throat. “She mentioned you’ve got a wide array of names for me.” 
Her cheeks burned red. “Bee must be mistaken, she’s got a crazy imagination. Always coming up with the strangest things-“
Bucky bit his bottom lip. “I’m used to it.”
The woman gulped, finally looking up at him. 
“I’m really sorry about the names.” She whispers. 
“It’s okay, darling.” Bucky’s eyes travel from hers to her lips. “But for next time, ‘Bucky’ is just fine.”
She nods, looking back to his wound. 
“And you are-“
“(Y/n).” She says. 
Bucky’s sure he’s never heard someone with a name as beautiful as hers. 
“You’re all patched up.” (Y/n) takes a step away from Bucky. “I’ll finish your report, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”
Bucky stumbles on his feet as he stands up. Embarrassed, he walks straight to the door but stops before leaving the medbay. 
“(Y/n)?” He turns on his heel. “Would you please tell Dr. Bee I appreciated her help?”
The light in (Y/n)’s eyes returned as she nodded. 
Bucky left the med bay feeling lighter than ever before and he couldn’t help but think a certain little bee had everything to do with it. 
Comments and feedback is greatly appreciated!!
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avocado-writing · 7 months
Note
Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3
oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence
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Astarion
stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground
you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?
”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.
he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight
tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌
Wyll
we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship
you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively
when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword
you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!
you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏
Gale
we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.
you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.
so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him
“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”
gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.
Karlach
is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol
roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf
she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”
”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”
her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss
“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”
Shadowheart
you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol
you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens
“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips
“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting
does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌
Lae’zel
“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”
she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.
has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops
afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️
Halsin
you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.
he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.
you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite
always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!
plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕
Minthara
her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.
you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword
you can’t help the words falling from your lips.
she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:
”good.”
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loveinhawkins · 7 months
Text
ao3
It’s the last day of school before Christmas, and the first thing Eddie hears when he enters Family Video is Steve Harrington saying, “Fuck this,” which seems kinda unreasonable; he’s not even done anything yet.
But then Steve continues, his voice turning distant as he heads to the back of the store—“I don’t care what the goddamn handbook says, the radiator’s goin’ on full blast,”—and Eddie realises he hasn’t actually been noticed at all.
Not by Steve, at least. 
Robin Buckley is standing by the computer. She’s checking her watch; Eddie can see the thought cross her mind, that he should’ve been out of class over an hour ago, like she was.
All of a sudden, he feels uncomfortably aware of what he must look like: drenched from the rain, dripping water onto the carpet. 
“Hey, Munson. O’Donnell got you working overtime, huh?”
Eddie fakes a laugh. He doesn’t know Robin that much—but still just well enough to know she doesn’t mean anything by it.
So he nods and rolls his eyes, concocts a story about an unjust detention; he even embellishes it with a pinch of truth as he brings the video tapes out from the shelter of his jacket. Says that his last-ditch attempt at improving his grade before the holidays was offering to return the videos O’Donnell rented for her classes.
He doesn’t mention the fact that he stayed behind voluntarily. That he spent all that time staring down at a perpetually unfinished essay, gripping his pen with an all too familiar desperation. That kind of honesty somehow feels more embarrassing than lying; it always has.
Robin takes the videos from him. “Okay, tell me if that works,” she says, with a hint of sarcasm; she’s joking, Eddie reminds himself, but not in a mean way. “Because I’d be returning, like, so many library books if…”
She trails off with a frown, eyes on the computer screen. Glances to the stack of video tapes before punching in something.
Eddie doesn’t mind the wait; it’s only now that he’s really appreciating just how cold he is. He shakes some water off his jacket sleeve, fingers numb, and realises too late that he’s creating a puddle on the floor. 
“Uh, sorry for, um. Dripping,” he says awkwardly, but Robin doesn’t seem to hear him; she just keeps frantically tapping on the keyboard.
Outside, the wind picks up even more, throwing rain against the windows. 
There’s the creak of a door swinging open somewhere in the back, followed by a voice calling, “What’s up?”
Eddie startles—he almost forgot that it wasn’t just him and Robin in here. He watches Steve sidle up to the register.
“It’s this stupid—“ Robin gestures to the computer with frustration. “It keeps going all, you know, aaaah.” She draws out the sound, wiggling her fingers.
Surprisingly, Steve catches Eddie’s eye with a wry look. “Technical term,” he says, deadpan.
If Eddie didn’t know that he was the only other person in the room, he’d think that surely he’d been mistaken for someone else.
Not that he thinks Steve would ignore him outright; it’s just that they’ve not got much history—no fleeting camaraderie forged from sitting next to one another in class. Sure, they crossed paths as much as anyone did in Hawkins, Steve a recurring figure in Eddie’s peripheral; he knew of his existence, obviously, it’s Steve Harrington, but nothing more than…
A collage of all the times Steve’s picture has appeared in the school newspaper flickers through Eddie’s mind. Okay, but that was because of The Tigers, and the swimming team, and—anyone would’ve noticed that—
His justification is brought to a halt at a particularly fierce howl of wind; Robin flinches so badly that she knocks the video tapes onto the floor. 
“Just the wind,” Steve says quietly.
As he speaks, he gently nudges Robin out of the way with his hip. Picks up the fallen tapes.
And to anyone else, it might seem kind—and nothing more. 
But there’s something almost imperceptible in the way Steve does it, Eddie can’t get away from that fact: a meaning behind the words that he can’t grasp.
Then he hears Wayne’s voice in his head—son, you know fine well when something’s none of your damn business—and tells his curiosity to quit it.
“Sorry, it’s still not working,” Robin says, giving the computer one last thump. “I can, um, write you a receipt? To prove you returned them? So O’Donnell doesn’t get all…”
Eddie nods. “Sure.”
Robin gets a pen out of her shirt pocket and writes a receipt, triple-checking the movie titles as she does so.
Eddie thanks her as she hands over the paper. Catches himself hesitating. 
There it is: the familiar prickle of discomfort, not knowing what else to say. Jesus Christ, isn’t that a failure on its own? Another year at school, and you’d think he’d be somewhat closer to other students, just from the sheer amount of time they’ve spent together in the same four walls. And yet, he’s starting to feel more distant than ever.
Granted, there’s Hellfire, but on bad days even that chafes, not that he’d ever admit it. Like he’s playing a part far bigger than who he actually is.
Eddie expects to just walk out without another word being said. In fact, he’s bracing himself for the cold again, almost at the door, when Steve inexplicably speaks up.
“Are you actually leaving?”
Eddie turns around. Steve’s leaning by the desk with his arms folded, looking at him expectantly.
Eddie’s half-convinced there’s a joke he’s not getting.
“Uh, yeah?” he says. He tries to ensure that ‘what the fuck else am I supposed to do?’ goes unheard, but from the way Steve’s eyebrows rise, he doesn’t think he succeeds. 
Steve gives a pointed, dubious look outside. “Dude, you wanna drown out there?”
Eddie rocks back on his heels. There’d be a time where he would really snap back at that (the first time he flunked out, maybe), but now he’s more caught off-guard. 
So he just glances outside and says, “Ideally, no.”
Steve gives a slight huff of laughter at that, shaking his head.
“Look, I’m just saying, man, I’m not gonna be driving till it clears up. Thought I was gonna need a canoe just to get into the parking lot.” He turns to Robin as if looking for agreement, stacking the tapes Eddie returned as he adds, “I said that when I drove you in, right?”
“I dunno, I’ve had crazier journeys,” Robin says.
Steve rolls his eyes like she’s made a corny joke—but he’s grinning like he just can’t help himself.
Eddie watches with a flicker of amusement rather than irritation, which catches him unawares. If he was honest, he’d felt drained not even a few seconds ago. But seeing Steve and Robin’s back-and-forth sparks an unexpected urge to respond in kind.
“Since when were you the spokesperson for road safety, Harrington?”
Robin snorts.
Steve shrugs. “At least wait until it’s not so brutal out there.”
And what brings Eddie up short is that, despite the dry tone, Steve sounds sincere. It leaves him struggling for an acceptable reply.
Before he can work one out, Steve steps to the side and pushes a swivel chair with his foot, right into Eddie’s path.
Eddie sits down in silent bewilderment.
He braces instinctively for an unbearable awkwardness, but it’s not so bad: Steve and Robin just continue working. It gives him time to try and dry his jacket off, at least, and when that ends up a lost cause, he turns to noticing the background noise in the store.
There’s a TV overhead playing It’s a Wonderful Life; George Bailey and Mary Hatch are about to Charleston right into the swimming pool.
Steve wanders into his eye line, scanning the aisles with a clipboard. Eddie doesn’t actually know how long he’s been there. He’d kinda got caught up in watching the movie. Steve seems to notice that; it’s gone too quick for Eddie to be sure, but his lips might’ve quirked, as if in approval.
“Hey, d’you want me to take your jacket? I’ve got mine and Robin’s on the radiator in the back.”
Eddie does his best not to stare. It’s a habit he’s still not shaken off: waiting for the other shoe to drop when anyone apart from Wayne is so… so…
“Didn’t realise this place was a hotel, Harrington.”
Despite his misgivings, he shrugs off the still damp jacket; Steve’s already stuck his hand out for it.
“Not everyone gets this treatment, Munson. You just haven’t annoyed me yet.”
“Then what am I doing wrong?” Eddie returns flatly. 
This time Steve’s smile is obvious.
“Don’t move my scarf off the radiator!” Robin calls as she wheels a trolley of tapes.
“What do you take me for?” Steve says.
He disappears into the back again, returning empty-handed when the phone rings. He mutters at it before he picks it up, “Yeah, of course you still work,” and it’s not endearing, Eddie tells himself. It’s not.
And no, he isn’t listening in to the phone call. That’d be… that’d be stupid. It’s just that the movie isn’t all that loud, so he can’t help but…
“Hello, Family Video? Oh, hi, Mrs Wilcox, how are… Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.” Steve listens to whatever’s being said on the other end. His eyes find the TV, and then he’s silently mouthing along to George and Mary singing, ‘Buffalo Gals.’ “Oh, are you kidding? No, no, stay inside. It’s not a problem, I can just—yeah, of course. I’ll push it back to after the holidays. Yeah. Yeah, you too. Thanks for calling. Enjoy the movie!”
He hangs up, absentmindedly humming. Eddie quickly looks away.
He notices then that he’s sitting right on the edge of his seat like an idiot. He makes an attempt to sit back—be normal, just be fucking normal—but there’s a rigidity he can’t quite shift, that’s been stuck there probably since middle school, when the cafeteria was full of whispers, did you see the new kid? There, the one with the buzz cut.
“Steve, you off the phone?”
“Yeah. Hey, Rob, if I forget, could you make a note to extend Donna Wilcox’s rental? I’ll do it when we’re back, if the computer’s—”
“Sure, sure. Um, so—”
“Oh, God, what?”
Robin grins, a mixture of sheepish and teasing. Eddie stays put. Has she forgotten he’s here? Should he move? Leave? Yeah, he should leave, they’re not gonna notice… He’ll grab his jacket, slip away; the weather’s not that bad—
“I’ve got something for you to—”
Steve waves his hands in disagreement. “Nope, we said we weren’t doing presents!”
“It’s not really a—my grandma wouldn’t listen, Steve, it’s, like, more of a punishment, honestly, just—just wait there.”
There’s a clatter as Robin rushes off, scattering some more tapes off the trolley. The employee door slams shut behind her.
Steve tsks to himself, but picks up the tapes again. As he bends down, he glances over his shoulder with a brief ‘what can you do?’ sort of expression—which forces Eddie to consider the fact that he hasn’t been forgotten.
He doesn’t know how to feel about it.
He settles for an attempt at nonchalance: sticks a foot out to spin the chair ever so slightly, just side to side, and says, “So, uh, is this job just throwing tapes on the floor?”
“Yeah, we take turns,” Steve says without missing a beat.
He scoops up a tape, twirls it deftly before slotting it into place on the shelf. Eddie should probably find it annoying.
He doesn’t.
In the silence, he tries to lose himself in the movie again, at least a little bit, but he can’t manage it—feels too aware of himself, the creak of the seat as he moves even the tiniest amount, the restless fidgeting that he doesn’t even want to be doing, but knowing that never helps him stop—
“Ta-da!”
Eddie turns in time to see a blur of red; Robin’s just thrown something at Steve, who catches it easily—of course he does, Eddie thinks, but he can’t pretend that the thought comes from a place of resentment, not even inside his own head.
It’s a sweater. Steve unfolds it with a cackling laugh; there’s not a trace of the artificial veneer of high school in the sound.
Unlike you, whispers a nasty inner voice.
Steve’s still laughing. “Robin, this is the best—”
“Shut up, no, it’s so bad.” Robin hoists herself up to sit on the desk. “Grandma did the actual work, all the bits that are messed up are from me—”
“You knitted this?”
Steve beams. Eddie notices that there’s an endearingly crooked tilt to one of his incisors.
And then Steve’s glancing around like he’s checking no-one else has come into the store. He ducks out of view of the windows, but is still very much in Eddie’s view as he throws off his work vest, yanks his shirt up over his head, and…
Eddie suddenly feels like he’s been flung back into the claustrophobic space of the school locker rooms, the dread of changing for phys ed. The voice in his head gets louder: don’t look, don’t look; they’ll know. 
But Steve doesn’t seem to care. He just leaves his shirt in a heap on the floor, wincing overexaggeratedly at the cold, and practically dives into the sweater with a boyish glee.
He laughs again; the sleeves are far too long. “I love it.”
“You do?” Robin says, and while she’s playing up her dubiousness, Eddie can hear how she’s pleased underneath it all.
“Uh, yeah!”
The back of Steve’s hair is ruffled from how eagerly he put the sweater on—but instead of fixing it, he focuses on artfully rolling up his sleeves.
Eddie should look away. Should, at the very least, attempt to appear like he’s zoned out, in a world of his own.
And yet…
Despite everything, he watches Steve Harrington with all the silent, rapt attention he usually reserves for movies.
Moth to a fucking flame, Eddie thinks, resigned.
“Suits me, huh?” Steve says to Robin; he does a stupid little move, one hand on his hip, like he’s on the front cover of a magazine.
“And you’re modest, too.”
“You just don’t know style when you see it.”
Steve’s at the desk now, nudging one of Robin’s feet playfully, before turning round to lean against the corner again. “Hey, Munson, what do you think?”
Eddie finds himself fighting the instinct to reply with something undeservedly cutting. He’d just be trying to cover, anyway, using barbs to conceal what the question makes him feel: something akin to the franticness when confronted in class with a test he hasn’t studied for.
And he looks. Really looks—his heart slowing, the initial panic from the flash of bare skin fading away.
Steve’s right; the sweater does suit him, in all its homemade charm. The shade of red is flattering, brings out his eyes: maroon, if Eddie had to put a name to it, although he suspects that the colour’s actually got nothing to do with it, more the way Steve holds himself—a quiet, certain confidence that’s always been out of Eddie’s reach.
He inwardly gives himself a shake as Steve and Robin keep waiting on his response.
This isn’t school, idiot; they’re not trying to catch you out.
“I’m hardly an expert on high fashion, Harrington,” Eddie says—thinks he just manages to pull off the lazy, unbothered drawl.
“Well, you have a look,” Steve says faux delicately, like he’s being incredibly generous.
Eddie cracks a genuine smile; it sort of weakens the whole aloof thing he’d settled on, but he surprisingly doesn’t care all that much.
“Damned with faint praise.”
Steve scoffs as if to say touché. His gaze catches on something outside, and Eddie wonders if it’s an actual customer, if it’s time for whatever all of this is to stop.
But all Steve does is poke Robin’s foot and add, pointedly singsong, “Rain’s stopped.”
“So?” Robin asks.
“I think it’s in between storms,” Steve says sagely. “Like, we’ve got a little window before more rain hits.”
“Great, Steve, I’ll love waving that opportunity bye.”
Steve tuts. “Rob, I’m saying we should ditch. Come on, it’s been dead all day. We can be home early and warm, it’s, like, single-handedly the best plan I’ve ever had.”
Better than when you won the championship game? Eddie thinks—wisely keeps that strictly to himself, because he’ll admit following Hawkins High’s basketball results on pain of death.
Robin looks torn. “I don’t know, Steve, what if—”
“Who’s gonna tell?” Steve says, gesturing around at the empty store. He nods at Eddie, says sarcastically, “Oh yeah, Eddie Munson, known snitch.”
“You flatter me,” Eddie says. He surprises himself at how easily it slips out, like for once, there was no need to overthink it.
“See? Rob-in,” Steve wheedles, “come on, I’ll cash out. You and your grandma could knit for hours.”
“Shut up,” Robin says fondly. “Fine! Quick, quick, I’ll flip the sign.”
The whole thing resembles a military operation, with how speedily Steve and Robin manage to close the store. Eddie stands up and moves the swivel chair out of the way, but feels almost exposed without it.
Steve’s just finished at the register when he catches Eddie’s eye. He snaps his fingers, “Oh, shit, yeah,” and yells over his shoulder to Robin in the back room, “Hey, pick up Munson’s jacket, too!” Then he’s stuffing a couple of tapes into a backpack. “Want one?”
Eddie blinks, confused. “What?”
Steve wiggles one of the movies in demonstration before zipping up his bag. “I always take some home. As long as you have it back by, uh,” he waves a hand vaguely, “some time in the New Year, whatever.” He clicks his tongue. “Damn it, forgot to turn this off…”
It’s a Wonderful Life falls silent.
Through the whir of it rewinding, Eddie speaks almost without meaning to. “Can I have that one?”
Steve looks up at him in faint surprise. “Sure. Hang on, I’ll just find…”
He ejects the tape and passes it to Eddie. It’s still warm from being played.
And then the case is being handed over, too—there’s scraps of paper folded in the corners, rolls of receipt in Steve and Robin’s handwriting: games of tic-tac-toe and movie recommendations.
As Eddie puts the tape inside, a thought occurs to him. “Wait, uh. Were you gonna take this one home, too?”
Steve’s folding up his discarded shirt and vest. He smiles, and if Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d think there was something shy in it.
“Oh, nope. I—” He laughs under his breath. “I have it already.”
The back door bursts open to reveal Robin all wrapped up in a scarf. She throws Eddie his jacket, jangles some keys and imitates Steve’s half-singing when she announces, “I’ll lock up.”
The wind’s thankfully died down so the contrast from inside to the parking lot isn’t terrible—though that’s probably helped by the fact that Eddie’s jacket is warmed right through from the radiator.
As he gets to the van, he expects that Robin and Steve will already be out of the parking lot. But when he slides into the driver’s seat, he sees Robin’s the only one actually inside Steve’s car; Steve’s half-in, half out, one hand on the roof. 
“Safe journey, Munson!”
And maybe it’s just how Steve’s voice is anyway, but it sounds like it’s more than just a platitude. Like it means something.
Eddie honks his horn in reply. He lets Steve drive out first—his car’s parked closer to the road—and absentmindedly drums his fingers on the VHS case in the passenger seat.
This was a fluke, he tells himself. Like a movie being played in last period, the curtains drawn—how it always feels kind of like a dream.
Still, he drives home warm. Thinks in a gentler voice, one that sounds like Wayne—a reminder that not everything is a trap waiting to spring shut on him.
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kushnovice · 14 days
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Be Mine Again
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader
Synopsis: Reader and Bucky have been broken up for a short time, fighting often and rarely seeing eye to eye. Bucky starts to fall into a bad mental space while a mission goes wrong.
wc: 2.8k
Warnings: fighting of all kinds, bucky being depressed and cold, angsty at the beginning, blood, choking, Zola being sadistic, not the best. if i made any mistakes please lmk :)
AN: Female reader, angst with little comfort (yet), lots of mistakes, self indulgent, it sucks but i had fun making it so i hope some people enjoy it. if so I'll write a part 2
"I broke my rules for you! I bended my morals for you, again! I had to change everything I believe in, yet again!" She yelled out at the tall and broad man in front of her as his hand tightened against his glass of ice water, jaw clenching.
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The kitchen of the Avengers Tower was very cold and filled with tense air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky deeply groaned as he placed his glass onto the table with a loud thud, "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to care about me, you did that all yourself." Bucky's hand ran up into his hair showing how stressed out he is at the moment, he had never been one to enjoy fighting, actually he hated it. Almost as much as he hated her."Don't you care about me? About us?" She questioned with a huff as her arms swung to her hips. "Truth is," Bucky stood up, slowly walking toward her with each word, "I'm tired. So fucking tired of you that you always have been nothing more than an obligation." Bucky's lip raised in a scowl. The hurt was written on her face but immediately gone as she grumbled and pushed Bucky back by the chest. "I'm done helping you." She sucked in a breath, "Did it ever occur to you that your hurting me or are you just that selfish and arrogant?"
Before she could react, his glass that was once on the table was now shattering against the wall on the far side of the room as he stormed off quickly, slamming the door shut in the process. Bucky made his way through the winding hallways with his fists clenched tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand when she would act like this, after everything they had been through together, she had promised she would stay no matter what. She was always just like the others, except Bucky couldn't get her out of his mind.
Bucky swings open Steve's door and slams it behind him as he paces back and forth through Steve's room. Steve sighed as he placed his book to the side on his bed and looked at Bucky. "What happened this time?" Bucky groaned deeply, "I told her about the mission we are going on later this week and she flipped out on me." He grabbed a workout dumbbell off the ground and started to work out his human arm by doing bicep curls. "She keeps telling me that she can't deal with me trying to track down and kill every single person that was ever or is currently apart of Hydra, that this mission we are going on is a trap." His breath becomes uneven as says breathy words under his tongue as his annoyed attitude has not faltered in the slightest. Steve rolled his eyes at the drama going on between the not so couple right now. "You do realize that she's scared of losing you, especially more since she's already lost you as a partner." Steve sighed deeply, being the person that both of them had come to confide in about their problems. "And with the Hydra thing, it's tricky because I know you want to move past it, and it was such a hard time of your life but there are better ways to grow past it, Buck." Steve talked softly as his kind blue eyes pierced through Bucky, hoping he would accept his words of advice but seeing how Bucky was instantly throwing the weight around as if it weighed nothing due to his anger, Steve knew Bucky wasn't truly hearing him.
Bucky dropped the weight at Steve's words, "Better ways, huh. there're better ways for everything but does that mean it's always achievable? No." Bucky looked at Steve almost desperately, "I don't want to lose her but if I don't do this, I feel like I might lose myself." Bucky sighed as he looked at the weight on the ground before picking it back up again. "What's rule number 3, Buck?" Steve asks knowing how Bucky's rage and trauma is having a profound impact on his own mental health. "What would they think about you after you murder them all?" Steve questions, knowing that if Bucky were to kill them then people would believe that Bucky was the Winter Solider still, or just a cold killer."Who cares, they took everything from me. They took me away from myself." Bucky stormed out of Steve's room in frustration and made his way to his room with loud footsteps as he carried his empty duffle bag.
Bucky's mind was whirling with angry thoughts about how no one understands him and the one person that did, was no longer a happy part of his life. He angrily shoves his clothes and weapons as well as his dog tags and anything else he would need into his duffle bag. Bucky fit everything he needed perfectly into his duffle bag and sat it by the door before he slouched down onto his bed. He rubbed his temple as he exhaled a deep sigh, wishing he could understand life like he did back in the 40's.
"If you feel it so necessary to risk your life so that you can battle an internal fight, then I'm coming too." She swung the door open as she placed down her duffle bag with confidence and stubbornness. Bucky groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, stressed out, knowing that she won't back down. "If you keep doing that, you'll go bald before you're ancient." She giggled snarky as Bucky narrowed his eyes at her seriously. "If you're coming, you're staying in the plane. Eyes in the sky." She rolled her eyes but stayed silent knowing that putting up another fight was worthless.
They made their way to the airplane with slow steps as the tension around them stayed present even in the silence as they walked feet from each other. Bucky's eyes were unable to focus on anything other than her, her hair, her body, her clothes, the way she held herself. He knew he shouldn't think about her like this after their no so soft break up but he couldn't help himself. He was snapped out of it when Steve talked to him on the plane, "Buck, why is she joining us?" He asked as he looked at her getting comfortable in a seat on the plane as if it was her mission to be on. Bucky sighed, "I didn't want to fight her anymore. She will stay on the plane the whole time." Steve nodded in understanding, "We got this." Bucky chuckled, "As long as you don't blow the whole thing trying to 'save the world'" Steve chuckled along with him. The plane ride was silent as they quickly made it to the main hydra headquarters with Steve occasionally talking about the mission and the plan.
When they arrive at the place, Steve and Bucky easily jump out of the plane, landing exactly where they needed too to be at the top of the Hydra roof. She got comfortable on the plane with the coms on, cameras on, and trackers on but she couldn't settle the anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to push it down as she figured that since she was watching and listening to them and that nothing would go wrong. That's what she had wished for, but not all dreams come true.
After the two men had entered the building, an alarm went off causing the rooms to blare nosies and lights to shine red and white in an emergency. They quickly move to the wall, Bucky had his gun up as his eyes glared through the top of the barrel with intense focus as he lead them through the hallway while Steve had his shield up as well as his arm to help brace himself for any situation that could happen. The lights continued to strobe with the blaring alarm as they swiftly and quietly made their way through the headquarters. As Bucky rounded a corner, there was a Hydra solider waiting for them. He fired his gun quickly multiple times causing bullets to go into his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach. Steve quickly threw his shield at the Hydra solider causing him to go unconscious and drop to the floor with a thud. "Buck?" Steve turnt around quickly as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders to help him stay up as he is loosing a lot of blood.
"What's going on?" She asked through the coms as the anxiety in her stomach started to bubble up yet again. "Why aren't you guys moving?" She impatiently waited for an answer as she tapped her fingertips against the desk, staring at the screen of their tracker and trying to find them on the camera system. "Everything's fine," Bucky growls out in a snap. Over the coms she can hear Steve groan, "Bucky got hit, three times." he explains to her and while his words are processing, her heart beat increases dramatically. "I'm fine." Bucky growled out as he continued to make his way down the hallway with Steve closely behind him. She watches as the dots move slowly down the hallway on the tracker, Her anxiety roaring.
Suddenly the screen starts to glitch out, becoming unreadable entirely. She began to panic internally as she starts to talk on the coms, "what's goin' on?" She asks to no response but loud sounds like a frequency is blocking communication. She groans deeply as her anxiety is coming up through her stomach and settling at her chest as she makes her way up and slings a gun around her torso to make her way out of the plane which is now landed at the waiting point. She runs through the clearing and gets to the door, trying to open it to no avail, she uses her body weight next to slam against the door, again to no avail. Sounds of yelling and screaming stop her in her tracks as the anxiety now feels like an elephant sitting on her chest. Looking around, she spot a window and she uses the back gun barrel to break the glass, making sure it's safe before she climbs inside. When she gets inside it is dark and eerily quiet, she cautiously take slow and soft steps and she keeps her gun up on guard as she search's for Steve and Bucky. She shoves open a door which reveals a pitch dark room, She is hesitant to go in until She hears Bucky whimpering in the darkness. She quickly makes her way inside, "Buck?" She whispered as the door shuts behind her, she hears the door click causing her to turn back to the door to see someone outside the door flick the lights on to reveal Bucky on the ground bleeding out from multiple injuries, she ran up to him immediately.
"Oh Buck..." She sighed deeply and she glare up at the person behind the door. The mysterious person presses a button with a smirk before they turn and makes their way out of eyesight from her. She hears a hissing sound causing her to look up to see a gas coming out of a huge vent in the room, the barley visible smoke filling the floor as it causes Bucky to cough an incredible amount and making his injuries worse. The smoke filled the room and eventually her lungs as she can feel the smoke burning her airway. She coughs violently in sync with Bucky, trying to stay conscious and aware but it becomes more challenging as the world starts spinning and her eyes get heavier. Bucky suddenly stops coughing causing her to know that he fell victim to the gas, she tried to fight it as long as possible as she held herself up against a table but still inevitably fail as she fell to the ground with a loud thud as she went unconscious.
When she woke up, everything was groggy and the room is spinning and her chest feels heavy with more than just anxiety. She groaned out in pain when she turn to look around to see her hands and legs tied up to the arms and legs of a chair while she was also tied around the torso. Turning her head, she saw Bucky sitting there tied up the same as her, him still unconscious though. "Bucky!" She whisper shouted trying to get him awake, whispering his name loudly multiple times in hopes of him waking up. "Bu-" She gets interrupted by the sound of a door opening causing her to fall silent as she watches the darkness to see someone emerge from it. "Well, Well, Well. Look what we have here. The world's most dangerous assassin..." The person walks towards us to reveal its Zola dressed in his white coat. "And his little toy." Zola smirks at us. "What do you want with us? Bucky isn't under your control anymore." She speaks deeply and firmly even through the anxiety and fear that is ever so present. Zola chuckles at her question as he leans down and grabs Bucky's unconscious face, holding his face up by the chin, his fingernails digging into Bucky's cheek, leaving red to glow off of Bucky's face. "I want him." Zola lets Bucky's face go with no regard for him. His head falls back down as Zola shifts his attention back to her. "I can't have him with you around. With you here. He has something to fight for." Zola leaned in close enough to her face that she could smell him the smell of rubber and overpriced Calonge on his body, he smelt like fake money. "I'm going to make him lose everything. Anything he loved or ever will love in the future, I will destroy."
Zola pushed some of the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, "And that starts with you, Darling." Zola had a maniacal smile on, his twisted face that contorted the anxiety in her stomach from anxiety into fear and anger. Her anxiety and fear had instantly turned into rage as Zola kept speaking, her jaw clenching and veins popping out of her neck and forehead. "I'll kill you." Her voice growls deeply with hatred as she struggled against the restraints roughly with harsh movements. Zola couldn't help the chuckle that escapes his lip. "Or you'll die trying, sweetheart." He exclaimed with a smirk on his face, "You'll be fun to play with." Zola runs his fingers softly down her face as she holds a scowl and her eyes bore into him with rage.
A soft voice croaks out, "Don't touch her..." Bucky's horse and rough voice speaks out as he raises his head to assess the situation as the gas wears off. Zola smirked as he trailed his fingers down her face and down her jawline and to her throat where he roughly grabs it with a tight grasp causing her to gasp out at a loss for air. "You take orders, Soldat. You don't give them." Zola says as his dark eyes meet Bucky's whose eyes are dark and cold, his glare unwavering as his jaw clenched. Bucky thrashes around in the restraints, easily breaking out as he saw you under Zola hold, anger filling his body with red heat as he stands up in front of Zola, dark eyes that would send shivers down the body of a normal person. "Let. Her. Go." Bucky's rough voices speaks out firmly as he towers over Zola, he smirks as he lets go of her but reaches into his pocket and injects Bucky with a syringe causing Bucky to be disoriented and out of it as he stumbles backwards. "Stay away from her!" He yells in frustration as he tries to move close to her despite the drugs and ultimately failing.
"Bucky! Stop trying to save me. They want you." She speaks out firmly through her coughs and deep breaths. Bucky growled at her statement, "I will never stop fighting for you, defending you, protecting you. Over my dead body will I let you get hurt." Bucky's deep voiced traveled through the room as it sent shivers down her body. Zola moved to Bucky, grabbing him by the back of the neck like a kitten and forces him down to the ground as he digs Bucky's head into the ground before quickly chaining him up, Bucky being easier to restrain with the drugs in his system. Zola squatted down to make eye contact with Bucky, his eyes digging into Bucky's with determination. "I will destroy you. You'll be mine again."
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razzle-n-dazzle · 7 months
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saw u wanted more Adam fics
Adam x f!reader
reader is trying to sleep but Adam keeps trying to show her and tell her stuff. “Like babe hey babe look at this!”
“Babe babe wait did I tell you?”
“Babe holy shit wait guess what!!”
*meanwhile she screams into her pillow*
ᯓ★ "Adam, Love, SHUT THE F-" Adam / Reader | Drabble-ish
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ᯓ Do you know those days where you just need a little piece and quiet? Like after a long day of work, where your boss was being unreasonable and your coworkers were being even more unbearable than usual. A long day when you go out to eat for lunch and yet the place you decide to go is busy more than usual, and of course it's on the one day you just wanted an easy meal, so you decide to sit and wait. What is the harm of that? Apparently, a lot. Especially when everyone has a stick shoved up their ass today, and when running over your lunch would have been understood and excused any day sparked a fire from Hell in Heaven. And it was only my five minutes! You were late to the office by five minutes despite having been sitting, waiting for lunch for twenty out of your thirty allotted minutes, and doing work to be ahead of schedule for your boss! You were late by five minutes because the sidewalks had been unreasonably crowded for that time of day and you had sprained your wing rushing not to be late earlier that morning because your boyfriend wanted to be up your ass for an extra five minutes this morning!
ᯓ Safe to say you just proved that there could be bad days in Heaven, no matter what anyone else said and you desperately needed a nap. Or maybe you just needed to knock out for the rest of the day, you weren't sure, all you knew was that your bed was calling your name and that was the only thing on your mind right now. Well, it had been the only thing on your mind until you stepped foot into your shared apartment. "Oh perfect fucking timing, Sugartits, come here!" Adam, with an obnoxious amount of energy today, waved you down to the couch. "Hurry up! You know I love to see that ass move when it walks, but this is super fucking important." And what could entertaining your boyfriend before you went and knockout for the rest of the night do? You mean, it was only thing he wanted to show you.
ᯓ "Fucking, look. Look!" Adam exclaimed as you heavily sat down next to him, allowing for him to cheekily swing an arm around your shoulder. This promptly led him to lean against you as he stuck his phone out, a video pulled up. You watched it to entertain him and his little fancy for whatever he had found; Being able to snuggle into his side in the process and listen to his hysterical laughter during the whole venture. It wasn't nothing too exciting, some sort of slapstick humor video and you understood why Adam found it hilarious, but you just didn't have the energy to laugh at it today. So you gave him a small chuckle as his arm found itself crossing down your back and wrapping around your hip, his hand resting on your thigh. "Oh fucking shit! You see, now that shit if fucking humor, comedy gold!" You needed whatever acid trip Adam was on and desperately.
ᯓ You would hum briefly in agreement towards his statement, feeling as his chest quickly rose and fall as he choked out laughter. Even with such motions you couldn't help but be drawn in by his warmth, snuggling closer to him. And you're sure he noticed, as he was sneakily trying to coax you more and more, using the hand that now was daringly close to your ass, to sit on his lap. Against his harsher, more lively breath, yours was slower and shallow, and as Adam managed to get you to snuggle up to his chest while on his lap, he took notice. It was hard to not to, especially when the sound of you not laughing with him just hit his ears. So confused, Adam would pear down at you. A few nervous bits of laughter left him, a silent signal for you to take notice of how he noticed your odd behavior, yet he died down as you didn't seem to notice (or care) much. Which caused his eyes to narrow and his eyebrows to frown up, a worried frown tugging onto the side of his lips. "Uh, Babe, you good?" His question was accompted by his gravely voice, which was now lower in volume and a lot less sure of himself. "You didn't fucking laugh at the video."
ᯓ "You do know this is comedy gold right? Gold! Not laughing at it would be a fucking crime." Adam would wave his cellphone near your face, flashing you with the bright light which caused you to promptly turn your head away from him. He noticed as your face scrunched, yet you didn't use your wings or hands to knock the phone out of his hand like usual. And that's when he really started to become concern. You weren't acting as you normally would with him, you weren't laughing at the videos he founded or retorting to his antics with your own. You were just laying there, curled up onto his lap with droopy wings and a weak hold around his chest. "Holy shit, Babe, you're not dying are you?" Was the first thing that blurted out of Adam's mouth, being the first thing thought that crossed his head as finally took a real notice of how bad of a state you're in. How the feathers on your wings seemed all out of sorts, how one wing was a little more puffed than the other, how eyebags had began to form under your eyes, and just how tired and weak you looked.
ᯓ "...and you're not getting fucking ugly either are you? It's not contagious is it? Because I can't be fucking ug-" You were swift to cut Adam off, pressing one of your hands against his mouth to muffle any more stupid shit he had to say in this moment. To which Adam drew back a little and started down at you, a moment of shock before unamusement crossed his face. He was gentle, more so than usual, as he picked up your hand by the wrist and drug it away from his mouth. Though he didn't say anything for a good moment, silently (and a little anxiously) waiting to see if you would say anything to him. And maybe it was the nerves on being the on the battle field too many times, or the anxiety of losing another lover, but Adam grew more and more disturbed at your lack of communication or movement the longer the silence wore on. "Babe," He gently nudged you, watching as you just let yourself roll back into place. You didn't even give a hum that time. Now Adam could feel his stomach doing little backflips. "Babe." This one came out a bit more stern as he nudged you a little harder. Yet, you only rolled back into place, not acknowledging his efforts on trying to make sure you weren't dying. Were you fucking dying? Holy shit, that would not be something Adam would want to go through today. "Babe! Sugartits!" Adam shouted, forcefully shoving you away from his warmth by the shoulders, "Please fucking tell me you're not about to die on me because that would be really fucking traumatic!.. If you're going to die at least do it in like, the bedroom or something!"
ᯓ You knew Adam didn't mean it, that he was just trying to stir a reaction out of you to make sure you were alright, yet his comment kind of pissed you off. Less so than when he forcefully drew you away from your only source of heat and comfort from the cruel reality you had to live today. So, reluctantly, you gave our a murmur, "...tired... shut up.." and forcefully tried to lay against Adam again; Trying to just take a small nap, or simply hide from the day you had today in your boyfriend's arms and warmth. Even if one of his hands had been resting on your ass. "Babe, you can't be fucking tired, it's not even dinner. Who the fuck is going to cook because last time I fucking remember you telling me I couldn't." Adam asked in a huff, though was silently relieved that you weren't just about to die in his arms like some dramatic soap opera. So, he let you lay back against his chest. It felt nice to have your weight there anyways. "Adam... shush.." Again, you tried to hush your rather obnoxious boyfriend, even for a little. And you knew he knew that you were tired, on the verge of passing out; It was a dead give away when he fluffed out his wings and wrapped them around you, noticing had dead you felt against him.
ᯓ "But you're still fucking making dinner though, right?" He would quip, a snicker growing on his dumb face as he leaned down to the side, promptly laying you both down. Now you knew he was just being a dick about it, that or he was just glad that you weren't silently suffering and dying against his chest. But either way, you were going to leave his question unanswered as you buried his head against his chest. No matter how much shit Adam might give you, you always found comfort in his warmth and with him being near. It was kind of like having an annoying dog that looked and sounded all tough and scary and was sometimes a big dick, but secretly cared about you under all the gunk. "Fuck it, I'll just order in." Adam muttered, placing his chin on the top of your head (having to curl around you a little to do so) as you were sure he began to pull up menus of restaurants nearby that delivered. And as you drifted off to sleep, you liked to believe he did so, so you didn't have to worry about cooking when you woke up. But you knew that was only half the truth, the other half was that he was probably craving those lamb chops he absolutely adores. And you were fine with that.
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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
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