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mr-inkslinger · 1 month

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ARTHUR MORGAN walked into your shared hotel room without knocking because he wasn't used to you tagging along with him. He walked in to see your legs spread, fingers deep inside your aching, dripping cunt your other hand working your clit. He should've walked away. He should've. He was going to as well, until you whimpered his naming as your hips lifted off the bed. You hadn't even noticed him. He should've walked. You were just a pretty young thing. He shouldn't have gotten you tangled up into him and his mess anyways.

He didn't even realize how heavy his breathing had grown, how tight his pants were. Shit.

Now, you were none the wiser to his presence, so caught up in trying to imagine what it would be like to be with him. His fingers were thick, thicker than yours. It was hard to imagine what it'd be like to have him finger you because he'd stretch you out better with two fingers than the three you had inside of you. Even harder to imagine his thumb working your clit with the same hand, given the fact that you needed two to do what he could with a singular hand. Your head tilted back in a low groan, half of it was from pleasure but the other half was from sheer frustration. You'd done your best to signal that you were interested. Bordering on desperate, at this point. You'd tried everything, touching his shoulder, batting your eyelashes, playing dumb. None of it worked. At all. At this point you had figured he just wasn't interested, so you'd have to settle for your imagination.

A floorboard creaked under Arthur's foot as he tried to take a step back. But it gave him away. You jumped and he jumped, even though he was aware of you and you noticing him. He stumbled to face the door, his skin burning with embarrassment from the encounter. He felt shame, severe shame. "I'm sorry, I-I thought you were asleep and then-"

"You crept up on cat's paws, Arthur."

"Like I said, I thought you'd be asleep."

"Well, I ain't."

"Clearly."

There was a pause, as you sat there, naked. Half covered but still, naked all the same. Naked and moaning his name and completely vulnerable because of what he does to you and he won't even look at you. You sighed, heavy, deep, disappointed. He very clearly didn't want you. "I'm sorry, Arthur.. that was.. embarrassing."

"My fault, really.. shouldn't have barged in and sure as hell shouldn't have lingered." Another huff from you. "Why are you huffin' and puffin'?" He asked you, despite facing the door, he was at least talking to you.

"Because.. well, because of you!"

"Me?" He almost turned around to shoot you a look of incredulous disbelief. "The hell did I do?"

"Beside barging in here, disturbing my private life? You didn't do anything and that's the problem!"

Arthur shook his head, trying to figure out what the fuck that even meant. "So, lemme get this straight. You're mad at me for doing something by not doing something?"

"Arthur, turn around." You had asked him gently, if he could just see how desperately you needed him, maybe he'd give you what you wanted. However, Arthur was reluctant, he just glanced over his shoulder at you. There you were, showing yourself to him. Fuck. Soft thighs and smooth stomach, he figured each of your breasts would fit perfect in his hands. He swallowed thickly, trying to get his brain to make some thought or action, something. "Can't you see that I want you- need you. Arthur, I need you." This was it, a last ditch attempt to get him to see that you wanted him this badly.

You leaned back and spread yourself for him, maintaining eye contact with the one that peered at you over his broad shoulder. His breathing grew deeper. You could see the way he broke away from your gaze to follow the dainty hand you were dropping to your cunt. The way you curled your fingers in and how you weakly bucked against your own palm. He turned to look at you, really look at you. He took a step closer, watching your chest heave and how you blushed under his gaze. He could see your struggle. How you whined and writhed and yet you seemed unable to satisfy yourself how you wanted.

Your free hand furiously rubbed at your clit, desperate to come for him, to really show him how bad you wanted him. Your eyes fluttered a few times but never enough to not look at him. You watched him chuckle, adjusting himself in his jeans. The way his hand lingered, you could see the outline of his dick. Bigger than you anticipated and that was saying something.

His hand clutched himself a little tighter as your breath hitched. "Easy now, easy.." His voice soft, deep. He spoke from his chest. His eyes trained on your weeping cunt, the way your fingers dipped in, the way it dripped around them, glistening in the low light of the room. He kept approaching, step by step as you worked yourself up more. "Nice and easy."

He reached out, a large hand gripping your knee, his thumb rubbing circles. His touch was slow and languid, you focused on the rhythm and stroked your clit to match it. He wasn't stupid, he caught onto that quick. "There ya go... just like that." His hand slid higher, testing the water as he leaned over you. Just enough to add pressure to your personal space he'd taken up residency in. His words of encouragement and seeing his hand hadn't stopped palming his cock made it easy for you to notice that you weren't the only one desperate. He leaned down further, sinking to his knees, his face dangerously close between your thighs. The scruffy cheeks in a dangerously close position to where you've wanted for too damn long.

"Arthur.." That earned you a small smirk, a soft chuckle that was broken. He leaned closer to you, his hand gripping your wrist.

"Want some help?" It didn't take much deliberation before you were nodding, pulling your hand away. His replaced yours, the rough pads of his fingers tentatively stroking down over your clit to your entrance. He marveled at how slick you were. "All of this over me?" He grinned, not ever waiting for an answer as he pressed a finger into you. "God damn.." He could feel how tight you were around his finger, your walls trembling for him. He shook his head, setting his hat aside as he curled his finger. "Oh, you're sweet on me alright." He listened to you keen above him, how your hard gripped his bicep.

This was a dream come true for you. He pumped his finger in and out, slowly, working you up to take another one of his digits and as he slipped on in, the stretch was better than you imagined. Poor Arthur, helplessly rutted against the mattress, the friction was enough for now. He leaned forward the rest of the way, stealing a kiss against your clit. Your hips lurched as your hand carded through his hair. Your touch encouraged him to stay close. His tongue was sinfully warm against you, it was overwhelming being stuffed with his hand and being devoured by his mouth. He hummed graciously as his lips wrapped around your clit. He sucked and licked and swirled it, like it was a nice aged whiskey that he was savoring. A taste test. He clearly enjoyed it, the way his eyes were screwed shut and he moaned into your core.

It was building you up, rapidly. You felt hot and you couldn't help the aggressive grip you had on his hair. His brow twitched with a wince as you tugged it again. He groaned into your folds, the vibration and primal experience of it caused you to tremble. Maybe he just made you tremble. Your moans grew and he made no attempt to silence them. He wouldn't let up, it was overstimulating the way he was eating you. The way his fingers curled with precision and made delicious noises from your pussy. The squelch of his digits dragging against your walls only to be pressed back in with enough force that it did feel like he was fucking you. With intention, purpose. He was seeking to bring you to that edge.

You breathing had become irregular, like your brain had shut off and it wasn't even something you could imagine doing. You were so caught up in all of it, you tried to pull his head away. "Stop- Arthur, I'm gunna come." You tried to push his face away, embarrassed at the idea of coming on his face. He shook his head, his tongue continuing to slurp you up, the more he consumed you the wetter you got. You could see he was covered in you from cheek bones to jaw. His fingers bumping against his chin as he dragged them across your walls, mapping you out. Every ridge and flex of muscle.

His insistence was paying off when he felt your pussy constrict on his fingers, he never stilled though. He worked you right through it, his own hips grinding against the mattress. His free hand reached under you, gripping a chunk of the meat of your ass, holding you tight and close to his mouth. He hummed and moaned, sounding like a starved man given a five course meal. You pawed at his face, feeling your own juices drenching your thighs and his wrist.

He pulled away for a moment, flashing you a crooked grin. "You're a good girl, y'know? All pretty and wrecked f'me. I ain't finished with you, though.."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #arthur morgan imagines #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan smut #c: arthur morgan

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sugawarassoulmate · 9 months

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a few of y'all asked me about this ages ago and i always had the thought in my head but i never actually wrote it down.

but y'all really liked the idea of loser!kuroo and virgin!mean!reader

word count: 845 cw: fem!reader, virgin!reader, name calling, bullying, fingering, implied oral (f receiving), minors dni

virgin!mean!reader who everyone thinks is experienced and she's never bothered to correct them

even kuroo thinks she has a couple bodies under her belt when she starts tormenting him on the daily

she's just so cool and beautiful and everyone is afraid of her but lowkey wants to spend a night with her????

but some things are a bit off

whenever kuroo gets too close to reader during their study sessions and his tall, imposing, figure completely towering over reader when he leans in to ask a question, he notices for some reason you can't look him in the eye

sometimes reader kisses kuroo when she's bored and wants him to stop talking but whenever he deepens it by sucking on her tongue or his fingers try to slip under her shirt, she immediately pushes him away. "fucking pervert," she snaps, going back to her book

reader's bugging kuroo another day—the usual poking fun at him for being a loser always talking about science and tripping over his own feet. "i bet you've never even had pussy. you a virgin or something?" you laugh at your own hypocrisy, keeping up the ruse

kuroo shrugs his shoulders, explaining that he had, in fact, slept with two people back in high school (his first girlfriend ever and a rebound after the two broke up)

reader's shocked that even someone as pitifully embarrassing as kuroo got some before her and irrationally pissed off at the thought of someone else touching kuroo like that

again, her behavior captures kuroo's attention, prompting him to ask if she's had sex before

"what the fuck are you on about? i'm not a fucking virgin!" you blurted out, immediately going on the defense. but kuroo can see how you're acting now and remembers all those times you got flustered but the tiniest bit of physical intimacy.

he stands up, using his height to back you into a corner of your small dorm room. just as he figured, your eyes grow wide and all the attitude you had moments before is nowhere to be seen.

"has nobody ever made you cum before, baby?" kuroo asks, leaning in for a deep kiss that you can't push your way out of this time. "is that why you're so upset? do you need me to help you cum?"

you've never seen kuroo act like this before—so secure and sure of himself. his finger reached out, slipping past your top to touch the soft skin and your body feels like it's buzzing.

he kisses you again, using his strength to keep you from pushing him away when his tongue enters your mouth. "te-tetsu," you whine, feeling embarrassed that he's having such an effect on you.

"tell me you want me to help," kuroo huffs between kisses. "i can't do it unless you tell me."

you'd literally rather die than admit how badly you want kuroo to do whatever he wants with you. but the words leave your lips anyway, full of desperation and shame. "tetsu, i wanna cum. please, please help me cum."

it's all kuroo needs to shove his hand down your shorts and push your panties to the side. you whine when his fingers plunge into your warm, wet heat. it's the first time anyone else has touched you down there and kuroo's fingers are thicker and rougher than yours.

his pace is slow but kuroo easily stretches you out, swallowing every cry of yours with another kiss. "this is all you needed huh, baby?"

it's all over when kuroo uses his thumb to circle your clit, leaving you more of an incoherent mess. it's never felt like this when it was just you. touching yourself will never be the same, it has to be kuroo doing it now. nobody else but him.

your body shudders, a sob leaving your lips as you finally come on kuroo's fingers, juices running down his hand. your cunt offers no resistance, fully accepting his digits fucking you through your orgasm.

the only thing keeping you upright is the fact that kuroo pinned you to the wall. you're feeling lightheaded—when did tears run down your face?—the squelching sound your pussy makes when kuroos pull his fingers out leave you mortified.

it's worse when he starts licking them, groaning over your essence.

kuroo helps you to your bed, laying you gently on the mattress and situates himself between your legs. "ready?"

"ready?" you repeated, unsure of what he meant. your cunt was still reeling from your last release, still feeling the ghost of kuroo's fingers sending you over the edge.

"oh, don't worry, baby. we're not having sex tonight, you're not ready yet." he coos, kissing your thigh. "but the thought of licking your sweet pussy right now makes me really hard and i just wanna be a little selfish."

this isn't the kuroo that cowers whenever you walk down the hall, afraid of becoming the target of your anger. this is much, much different that what you're used to.

"whatever makes you feel good, loser," you said, with no malice in your voice.

#haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsurou smut #tetsuro kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #tetsurou kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #🥀#🥀kuroo #loser!kuroo

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

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The handyman part 1 || Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You broke your bed and need Joel Miller, your handy neighbor in Jackson, to fix it.

CW: FLUFF, sexual tension, talks about past losses, age gap, not smut but it’s coming.

Read part 2

A few weeks ago, a man and his daughter had moved in the vacant house next to yours in Jackson. He mostly kept to himself, you knew only pieces of information; he was named Joel, he was Tommy’s brother and he worked in construction in another life. Lastly, he was very handsome for his age.

Having a handyman just next door was a good thing. Especially, when one night, during terrible nightmares, you broke your bed. You fought so hard, because you thought that the dream was real, that the bottom of the frame was split, and you were now sleeping on the floor.

It took you a few days of sleeping badly to build up the courage to knock on your door. When you did, his daughter opened the door. She was well in her teens and had the reputation of being too… honest.

“Yes?”

“I’m looking for… Mr Miller.”

She laughed so hard at how you called him that she had to support herself with her hands on her knees, and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Don’t call him like that, please, he’ll beat your ass.”

“What’s that about, Ellie?”

You heard Joel’s voice and the loud thumping of his work boots, before he appeared behind Ellie. Your eyes traveled to him instantly. He had broad shoulders, curly greying hair, and a trimmed beard.

“Your date’s here I guess.” Ellie shrugged and left you between adults.

“Sorry ‘bout her. What can I do for ya?”

Joel looked down at you. You were a sweet thing, probably just old enough to be born before the outbreak.

“I… uh… sorry to bother you. You told me you worked in construction. right?” He nodded, waiting for you to get to the point. “Guessed you were probably… good with your hands.” You just realized how it sounded and slapped your palm against your forehead. “What I mean is. I need you to fix something for me. Please. In exchange… I’ll… I’ll cook for you two. Or… anything else you need, really.”

“Just let me get my tools, I’ll be right over.” He tried to ignore his racing dirty thoughts as he went to the garage to bring his trusty toolbox. There’s a lot you could do for him, actually.

He followed you to your home and you opened your unlocked door. “What d’ya need fixed?” He asked.

“My bed.”

“Oh.” Joel responded, fingers playing with the back of his hair in an awkward gesture.

The simple syllable made you realise how bad this all sounded. Joel instantly imagined you getting pounded in your bed by some other young guy in the town that had eyes only for you, until your bed broke.

“I-It’s not what you think, I assure you. Please, follow me.”

Joel followed you up your creaking stairs to your only bedroom. It was a small house, he thought. He kneeled beside the broken frame while you sat on your mattress that was laying on the floor.

You felt out of your place, with Joel in your bedroom.

You felt out of place when you imagined how he would look kneeled in front of you.

“God, what did you do. I can fix the bed legs for now, but we’ll need new planks of wood for the bottom.”

“W-Wouldn’t you like to know what I did.” You smiled, trying to build some sort of confidence. “I don’t. Rhetoric question.” He said while he fumbled through his toolbox to find what he needed. Truth is, he felt jealousy lighting a fire in his stomach. Who put their dirty hands on you?

His coldness kept you silent for a moment while he was putting your bed legs back on the bottom of the frame.

“I… had a bad nightmare. I get violent in my sleep. This is why I sleep alone, I guess.” You explained, even though he probably didn’t care.

He imagined how soft you’d be in his arms, on his own mattress. He would reassure you so you’d sleep well. He grunted in frustration, hoping you didn’t hear. But you did. And you laughed to hide the fact that you were trying to imagine if he would grunt the same way while you were sucking his dick.

He turned around to look at you, hammer in hand and a nail between his teeth.

“Don’t make me use this hammer for laughing at me.” He finally let go of some of his walls to show some humour. “I’m old, being on my knees is hard.” He said as an excuse.

“I’d never. So… wood? Do we have that?”

“Might have to look around a bit. It’s getting a bit late though, so I can do that for you tomorrow. Sorry.”

“Another night of sleeping on the floor isn’t too bad, I guess.”

You felt dumb when you had wished he would have offered to sleep with him. And he wanted to, so bad. Last time he was this close to a woman was… well, we don’t talk about it.

Your silence filled your bedroom, your eyes lost in his stature. The way his flannel stretched against his back, the way his jeans looked tight on his muscular thighs.

“Ellie’s going out tonight. You can probably use her room.”

“N-No, it’s fine, really.”

It was a bad idea, even though you wanted to.

Maybe he had overstepped.

When he was done fixing your bed legs, he got up with a grunt of pain, and walked to you, sitting beside you on your old mattress. He felt awkward, like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman anymore.

“Thank you.” You finally said as you looked up to him. His chocolate eyes were beautiful, even if the wrinkles around them made him looked tired. Maybe he smiled a lot in another life.

He was so close, you could feel the faint odour of soap, buried in his woodsy smell. You could just lean in and kiss him, just to see what he would feel like.

“So… diner, huh? What about now? And just me? Since Ellie’s going out. ”

“S-Sure!”

You got up first to climb down the stairs to your kitchen. He followed you closely, eyes momentarily looking at the sweet curve of your ass filling your jeans.

“I have some chicken and chicken bones to go through, is a soup okay for you?”

“Sounds good.”

He sat at your wooden table so he could watch while you were starting to work on the broth. It would probably take a while.

“So, you live alone?” He observed.

“Yeah. Don’t have anyone to break my bed with.”

You turned around to look at him with a small smile.

How he wished he was pounding into you hard enough to break all your furniture. He would then fix everything for you just to stay longer.

You saw how he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Don’t get hard, asshole.” He thought.

“My… past partner died before I got here.” You finally said.

He thought of Tess. “Same.”

“M’sorry…” You sat on an empty counter while you were waiting for the broth to be ready. You didn’t dare approach him too much, you feared not being able to resist him. “Guess we’re both extremely lonely. At least, you have your daughter.”

“She’s… adopted. Not my real daughter.”

“I see… Want a taste? And see if it’s up to your standards.” You asked as you took the spoon in hand to fill it with the warm and comforting broth.

Joel got up from his chair and approached you, palms on each side of your thighs as he bent down to taste the soup. It felt intimate, feeding him like that. He could probably hear your heartbeat in your whole body.

“Hmhm. It’s good.” He approved.

The spoon fell from your hands, and he caught it just in time.

“I’m sorry. I just… fuck. You make me nervous.” You laughed.

“I didn’t mean to.” He backed away. “I can leave if you want.” You held on his soft shirt to keep him close.

“Don’t. I might have other things to fix, who knows?”

He laughed, and you swore you saw his cheeks getting redder. You let go of his shirt.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay.”

“Make yourself comfortable, Joel, there’s whiskey in the cupboards and beer in the fridge. I’ll watch over the broth while it boils.”

You got back on your feet, eyes staying on the yellowish liquid warming up on the stove, while your spoon was making small waves in the mixture. You didn’t dare to look at Joel for now. You heard him grab a bottle, 2 glasses and ice.

He put a glass beside you, and you smiled shyly. Joel looked at the bottle, that dated before the outbreak. “Good taste.”

“Thank you.”

You both finally sat at the wooden table; it was just big enough for 2 people, you didn’t have many visitors. Your legs were almost touching under the table.

“There’s gonna be a lot left. You can bring some at home. Maybe Ellie will appreciate.”

“Sure. It’s way better than my cooking. Can barely cook some chef Boyardee.”

“Damn. You need a woman in your life.” You laughed. The whiskey had loosened you up a little.

“Yes, I do.”

“So… what was life like before this for you? I was like… 6 when it started. So, I barely remember.”

So, Joel was 30 years older than you. He couldn’t keep flirting with you, he felt so bad about it. But you didn’t care.

He almost choked on his drink. “Fuck, you’re young.”

“Sorry.” You shrugged. “Not like I care.”

“To answer your question… there’s not much I wanna talk about it. Life was good with my sweet Sarah.”

“I’m… sorry.” You paused for a moment. “My parents did their best when it started. But they had to give me up to FEDRA at some point. When I was old enough to make my own decisions, I left with my partner. We were on the road for a while, and it lasted like that for years… Until he got infected, and I had to shoot him. After that, I found Tommy’s group and here I am.”

He admired how you could tell your story very calmly and coldly. To reassure you, he put his palm over your hand and softly pressed around your fingers. His warmth pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I’m sorry you lost people.”

“We all lost people, Joel.”

When you two finished eating together, you walked him to his door. Your body only wanted to follow him inside, to share more of his body’s warmth.

“You… sure you don’t want to come in?” He asked awkwardly.

“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel. Thank you.” You smiled softly. “After all, I’m too young to sleep at an old man’s house, right?” You added as you rolled your eyes.

You got up on your toes to press a kiss on his rough cheek, before going back to your house without looking back.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x yn #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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milequaritchsslut · 1 year

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could u do angst w/ miguel where he gets so anxious every time the reader gets sent out on a mission thinking that he’s gonna lose her the same way he lost his daughter?💕

His beautiful girlfriend

he’d be clawing at your arms as your about to walk out the door. Throwing you into him, your face coming contact with his bare and broad chest. As his hands find their way into your curls and he just stands there for a moment, holding you close to him and fighting back the tears. You were so important to him, his most prized treasure. You were his other half, the person he looked forward to seeing after work. Just wanting to lay in your arms and nip at the soft skin under your ears. He could not lose you, not someone so close again. You were his everything, his girl. When it came to you words couldn’t express what he felt, the word love seemed like an understatement. Because it was so so much more, so much deeper than a word people threw around all the time. What you two had was sacred, something he couldn’t and wasn’t trying to find again.

‘Please don’t go mi amor’ he pleaded, a tear finally falling from his eyes.

you sigh at his reaction, pulling away just enough so you could look him eye to eye. ‘I will be fine my love’ you reassured, hands coming to cup his crying face. A smiling face is what he was met with, his lovely girlfriends wonderful smile. God you knew how to make him melt, you knew exactly how to get your way. ‘But what if you get hurt-‘ he stopped himself as the waterworks finally flooded in at the thought of losing you. Tears streaming down his face as he cried for you. God did he feel pathetic right now, but he Couldn’t stop himself. It worried him so much, you were his top priority and he couldn’t imagine a life without you. He lived for you, you were his only concern other than his job. He needed you so badly, so so badly. You would never be able to understand what he felt, the pain he had from losing his own daughter. But then losing you? He would rather die himself than have to be without you. These missions were so deadly, there were dangers lurking at every single corner. Just waiting to pounce on his princess. He leaned into your touch his hand coming to cup your hand as tears fell onto your fingertips, soaking them as he looked into your beautiful eyes. Your heart sank at the sight of him, the fact he was worried sick for you just broke you. Your fingers brushed his tears away, a small kiss planted on his tear stained cheek. ‘Hey, I’ve come back every time haven’t I baby?’ You cooed softly, putting on a warm smile for him. The last thing you wanted was for your precious boy to be crying for you, because his own fear got in the way of seeing the bigger picture.

He thought about it, wheels turning inside of him. He knew you were a strong woman, you did this all the time. But it just felt different today, it seemed more risky. But deep down he knows that you were right, that he was just being dramatic again. Letting the past control his emotions and actions once again. So he sighed, wiping the tears that stained his usual calm and unfazed expression. His hands coming down to your shoulders as he finally sent you a small and gentle smile. After a minute or two he finally recollected himself before he spoke ‘Just please be careful—please’ the last word he emphasized, he wasn’t a man who begged. Far from it, but you made him like this. Made him worry and become all frazzled and sick to his stomach. But he loved you nonetheless, his beautiful girlfriend.

#miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel x reader #miguel x you #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spider verse

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

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After All This Time | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! Who wants to have their feelings hurt?! 🙋🏻‍♀️ I love some good angst, some pain, some emotional turmoil.

Warnings: relationship drama, references to violence, arguments, crying, ex!Bucky

“What are you doing here?” You stared at Bucky, shocked. Perplexed. He had no business at your apartment. Especially not so late at night. Especially not after what he’d done. The way he’d treated you. It took a long time- too long- to achieve some sense of normalcy after things fell apart. After he broke your heart. You weren’t over him; you feared you never would be. But you finally arrived at something that resembled stability. You were nearly okay- nearly.

But Bucky’s unexpected presence took you out at the knees. Was he always this beautiful? Or did you just miss him? His hair was a bit longer, his stubble a little scruffier. His deep blue eyes softened at the sight of you. No, he was always this beautiful. Dammit.

His expression was stern. Serious. Just like it had been when he left. He’d promised you he’d never come back. “Can I come in?” He was a liar, apparently.

“What? No.”

Bucky breezed past you anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest, hiding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. Your arms hugged your body, crisscrossing over your old college shirt. Thank god you hadn’t opted to wear one of the many henleys he’d left behind. The humiliation of him seeing you in one of his old shirts would’ve been too much. You knew you shouldn’t wear them anymore, but you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop yourself from cloaking your body in the comfort they provided. It was sad, maybe even a little pathetic. But you didn’t know how to stop.

“Hey- You can’t just barge into my apartment-”

“Shut the door.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “No. What do you- get out.”

Bucky closed and locked the door for you. His fingers twisted the key in the deadbolt and fastened the chain. He even pulled on the door once- then twice. It was secure. He positioned his body in front of it- either blocking your way out or someone else’s way in. You weren’t sure which.

“Go pack a bag. We’re leaving here in five minutes.” He checked his watch, “Sooner, if you can manage it.” He looked up from his wrist and finally let himself drink you in. Were you always this breathtaking? Or was he just happy to see you? Your skin glowed in the yellow light of your reading lamp. Your hair was shorter now- he liked it. Yeah, you were always this intoxicating. Bucky wondered how he could even question it.

“Are you out of your mind? We’re not going anywhere.” Anger was easier. Easier than sadness, than heartbreak. You let wrath wrap itself around your heart, shielding you from the pain. Bucky didn’t belong in your home anymore, no matter how badly you wished he did. He didn’t want to be here- he didn’t want you. He’d made that painfully clear.

And though part of you liked seeing him here, existing in the home you once shared, you knew it would only serve to hurt you. Your voice was quieter this time, less confident, “You need to leave.”

He let out a huff, as though he had the right to be annoyed with you. “Just trust me on this,”,

“Trust you? That’s hilarious-”

“You’re not safe here,” he said. His tone was firm, irrefutable. “Someone attacked Pepper and Morgan. Clint’s wife, Laura, and their kids. Murdock’s associate- that guy Nelson.”

A burst of worry shot through you, “Shit. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. They’ve all been relocated.” He wondered how you could worry about others while bypassing any concern for yourself. But the distress on your face was real; you’d gotten close with the families of the team before Bucky left. They welcomed you like one of their own, and your care for them survived even after things with Bucky died.

“Sam is taking his sister and her kids somewhere- everyone’s moving their loved ones.”

Silence. You waited for Bucky to elaborate. He waited for you to put the pieces together.

“So… why are you here? What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Hydra. They’re coming after our lov-” Bucky cleared his throat, “the people in our lives.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not in your life.”

Bucky knew you weren’t his anymore, but hearing you say it cut him to the bone.

The strong façade you wore threatened to crumble. This was too much for you- almost cruel. Back when things were good, they were really good. You planned on staying with Bucky forever. You saw yourself marrying him, spending the rest of your days together. He’d had other plans. He left you. And never looked back.

“I’m fine here,” you told him. “I don’t need you.”

Bucky struggled for words. This was harder than he thought. “Well… they- they don’t know that we...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Hydra, I mean, they don’t know what um, what happened. We were pretty public- they might think we’re still together. So, I need to get you to a safe house. Just in case.”

“Why?” The question hung heavy in the air.

Bucky didn’t say a word.

“Since when do you care? Don’t act like I matter to you all of a sudden- don’t pretend that you’re worried about me.” You forced every ounce of emotion behind an impenetrable wall, “leave. I’m serious, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You’re in danger. And I…” He ran a hand through his hair “Just come with me. Let me protect you.”

“I’m not yours to protect.” The stinging sensation of approaching tears burned behind your eyes. “So… you can go.”

Your words gutted him. He hadn’t felt this much pain since he left, since the last time he saw you. He’d left you alone in the apartment you once shared. He’d shut the door and stood on the other side, unable to walk away. His forehead rested against the wood, and he listened to you. The sound of you sobbing- wailing- drove stakes into his chest. But he knew it was better this way.

“Yeah, I know that…” he said, his voice softer now. “But your family, your friends- they’ll be devastated if something happens to you. Don’t do that to them. Come with me. And when this blows over, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

You hated that he was right. To let your pride endanger your life was selfish, stupid. You could practically hear your mom telling you to go with him.

But there was a side of you would rather die at the hands of Hydra than share a safe house with Bucky. Sure, you missed him. A lot. You wished he’d never walked out that door. But spending days- or weeks- with him? Just the two of you? In a secluded location? It would tear you to pieces.

You grumbled under your breath, “fine. How long will we be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, then- where are we going?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Coordinates will be sent to the jet once we board.”

“Okay, great. Perfect. I don’t know how much to pack. I don’t know what kind of clothes I need. Awesome. Thanks, James.” You turned on your heel and headed toward your bedroom, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

James. James. You’d never called him James. Ever. Not even in a joking sense. He was always Bucky or Buck or Barnes or baby- depending on the context. Never James. It was so impersonal, you regarding him by his government name. So cold. Distant. He knew he deserved it- deserved way worse. But it stung, nonetheless.

With you busy in the other room, Bucky drank in the warmth of your apartment. It was inviting, cozy. Just like always. You’d gotten a few new pieces of art since he left; they took up the spaces left empty by the photos you removed. The picture of the two of you from a Stark gala. A strip of the two of you laughing in a photo booth at the pier. A polaroid of him kissing your cheek at Sam’s birthday party. He wondered what you did with them. Did you still have them- somewhere? Did you hide them away in a dusty box under the bed he used to share with you?

Or did you burn them?

He missed living there. Missed waking up next to you, missed making dinner for you. Missed you.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call so late…” you said into your phone, cradling it between your ear and your shoulder. “I’m gonna have to work from, um- I have to leave town for a little while.”

Bucky heard you on the phone with your boss, doing your best to lie your way through the situation. But you didn’t give much detail, just like he’d taught you when you first started dating. He told you never to trust anyone fully- never to believe that someone is worthy of every secret. He’d been speaking about outsiders. But when he left, he proved to you that no one deserved your trust. Not even him.

“Yeah, just family stuff,” he heard you say. “My cousin has been sick and took a turn for the worst, so… I need to be there just in case.”

He was so proud.

You stuffed clothes into a bag and rounded up the necessary toiletries. Your laptop, headphones, and a few books made the cut, and you grabbed the bag’s zipper, prepared to give it a final yank. But as you tried to close it up, a piece of fabric caught your eye. You let out a deep sigh. You’d moved on instinct, grabbing things from your closet and dresser without thinking. And some of Bucky’s old clothes had found their way among your items.

A flannel, two henleys, and a sweatshirt sat nestled at the bottom of your bag. They were some of your favorite things to wear- soft, comfortable, cozy. But you couldn’t bring them with you. Not when there was a chance Bucky would see them. You quickly swapped them out with pieces that didn’t belong to him and thanked the universe you’d noticed before it was too late.

When you emerged moments later with duffel bag in hand, Bucky was waiting for you. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. Hadn’t taken off his jacket. He wasn’t welcome here anymore. And making himself at home wasn’t right.

“Uh, here’s this,” he outstretched a hand in your direction and offered you a phone. “We can’t be sure that your phone isn’t being tracked. So, you have to leave yours here. This is a burner- just for emergencies.”

You dropped your phone on the counter with a dramatic groan and took the burner from his hand. Not only were you to be trapped for an indeterminant amount of time with the man who ripped your heart out of your chest and eviscerated it in front of your eyes- but you also had to give up your phone. “This feels like a kidnapping.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He made a move for your bag, “I can take that for you-”

“I got it”.

With a nod, he opened the door and checked the hall for potential dangers. And when he deemed it safe, he gestured for you to join him. He watched you lock the door- and smiled to himself when he realized you still used the same key. You never changed the locks after he left.

“This is the most conspicuous thing I’ve ever seen…” A jet sat on the roof of your building, just a few feet from the stairwell. “If Hydra didn’t know where I was before, they definitely do now.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh, paired with a quiet “yeah”, and tried to help you board. But you shied away from any attempts as assistance. You needed to prove to Bucky that you didn’t need him anymore- no matter how untrue it was.

The flight was awkward. Quiet. Tense. You couldn’t escape to the back of the jet and hide from Bucky- there was no ‘back’. It was a small aircraft. Only enough room for two. It forced you to sit next to him, watching clouds paint with windows with their condensation as the jet sliced through the sky.

“So…” Bucky said after a while, “how’ve you been?”

You quieted him with a look.

The answer to his question was complicated- you didn‘t have the emotional energy to explain. Diving into how angry and miserable and lonely you’d been since his departure would take hours. Maybe days. And he didn’t deserve the inside scoop. He wasn’t welcome to your secrets or the inner workings of your mind- not anymore.

“We’re here…” Bucky said, his voice pulling you from your light sleep. You didn’t realize you’d nodded off. But sleep was the only escape from the painfully awkward situation he’d put you in.

“Okay, so…” Bucky opened the door to the house and gestured for you to enter before him. Still such a gentleman. “I know this place is kinda small. But I’m gonna do my best to not be in your space.” He flipped on a few lights and bathed the house in a warm yellow light. “They promised that the kitchen is stocked. I think there’s firewood somewhere in case we get cold. And there should be clean sheets and towels and stuff in a closet somewhere. As for the, um…” He cleared his throat, “the sleeping arrangements. There’s only one bedroom, so it’s yours- I’m gonna take the couch.”

He threw his bag over the back of the couch and watched it bounce against the cushions. “Let me know if you need anything.”

What you needed, he couldn’t give you. He couldn’t go back in time and reverse the effects of breaking your heart. He couldn’t rid you of the agony brought on by his absence. And so, with a curt nod, you bid him goodnight.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time you made the bed and crawled beneath the covers. You curled into a ball and pulled the blankets up over your head, as though protecting yourself. This had to be a joke. A prank. The wound Bucky’s departure caused had barely scabbed over- and his return flayed it wide open. It throbbed and ached as you cried under the safety of your blankets. You didn’t know what you’d done in a past life to deserve hurt like this.

Bucky collapsed onto the couch. He slumped forward and rested his head in his hands, replaying every moment since you opened the door. The look on your face when you saw him again, the disdain in your voice, the distrust you held for him- it made his chest ache. He hated himself for throwing away the best thing he’d ever had. For hurting you. For breaking the trust you’d built together.

He didn’t sleep that night- the pain didn’t let him. He, instead, remained awake. Wired. He cleaned his guns. Double and triple checked his supply of ammo. He made sure every window was locked, every door secure. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

The following day passed slowly. Bucky made enough breakfast for both of you, and kept your portion warm while he did the dishes and waited for you to wake. But you never joined him. You remained holed up in your room, miserable.

You didn’t care about Hydra; they couldn’t hurt you more than Bucky already had. Sure, they could beat you senseless and bleed you dry. They could torture you and hold you hostage. But it simply couldn’t compare. Physical injuries heal. They scab over and turn to scars. But the pain Bucky caused never ceased. The wound bled day and night. His mark on you could never be fixed.

Only when your hunger pangs grew painful did you leave the safety of your room.

“Hey, I made breakfast…” Bucky said when you finally emerged, “I tried to keep yours warm but- it’s in the fridge if you want it. I know it’s well past breakfast time and you probably don’t want cold spinach scramble and hashbrowns, but-”

He was being so nice; he still remembered your favorite breakfast. You thought back on all the Sunday mornings you’d spent together, making breakfast and listening to music. Drinking coffee. Dancing in the kitchen until the food almost burned. But you banished the memories. And sent away the warm feelings brought on by Bucky cooking for you again.

You didn’t make eye contact, didn’t thank him. Instead, you rummaged through the cabinets until you found a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. “I’ll make something for myself,” you told him.

“Oh- okay, yeah. Knives are in the drawer to your left.” Bucky felt himself hovering. He stood across the kitchen island from you like an expectant child hoping for the approval of a stern parent. He knew he’d never get it, didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t help himself. Being so close to you felt good. Really good. And though he’d promised he wouldn’t invade your space, he found it impossible to walk away.

You, however, couldn’t get away fast enough. You hastily made a sandwich and grabbed a glass of water before retreating to you room, safe from Bucky’s gaze. With the door shut, you allowed yourself to sink down to the floor. A gnawing sense of soul-crushing sadness eclipsed any feelings of hunger. But you forced the sandwich down anyway. You swore to yourself that everything would be okay, that you’d go home soon enough and try once again to heal.

But you didn’t believe your own words.

Bucky hated how uncomfortable you were around him. It was his fault, and he knew it, but it made him sad all the same. At one time, he’d been the person you loved most. The person you cared for. The one you could trust. You knew, without a doubt, that you could go to him with anything. Any problem, any worry- no matter how small. And he’d find a way to make it better. And if he couldn’t fix it, he could at least make you smile. He could bring you comfort and make you feel safe. Loved. He was the only one you wanted. The only person for you. His soul and yours were forged in the same fire- just a few decades apart.

But that fire was dead- snuffed out. And Bucky no longer held the secret key to your heart. He brought you only anguish and anxiety. Torment. Agony. And he hated himself for it.

He wondered if you’d spent all your time hiding in that bedroom. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. You weren’t happy around him like you used to be- why would you subject yourself to such unpleasant feelings unless it were absolutely necessary? He resolved to give you as much space as possible, to leave the room when you made your way to the kitchen. To not hover. Anything to make you more comfortable.

And if that meant that he didn’t get to speak to you for the remainder of your time in hiding, then so be it.

That night, however, he got to speak to you again.

He didn’t rest the night of your arrival, not even for a moment. And it finally got to him. He turned in early, falling asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. The last few embers glowed orange beneath the charred wood, but all warmth was gone. His sleeping form tossed and turned beneath a thin blanket. Droplets of sweat bloomed from his skin as heaving breaths forced their way into his chest.

A familiar sound woke you in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard it in quite some time, but knew you’d never forget it. Bucky was having a nightmare. And before you had a moment to rethink your actions, you were up. You ditched your bedding and fled in the direction of his screams.

And he woke to the soft sound of your voice.

“Bucky, hey…” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, wake up. Bucky-”

His eyes flew open and quickly focused on your face. And though your presence brought a relief he hadn’t experienced in what felt like years, it was too late. His heart hammered against his ribs; his lungs burned. He couldn’t breathe.

“You’re okay. You’re alright. Here-” One of your hands migrated from his shoulder to his chest while the other searched for one of his. You dragged his hand upward and mirrored the placement, pressing his palm to your sternum. It was muscle memory, a deep-seeded reflex you didn’t know you still had. You used to do it every night- back when Bucky was still yours. He liked it. He said it made him feel like you were synching your heartbeat with his. And it always calmed him down.

Bucky let loose a deep sigh of relief. It seemed to come from somewhere else completely, like he’d been holding his breath since the last time he touched you. Your pulse beat strong and steady beneath his hand, thudding against his palm like his own personal metronome. And maybe it was all in his head, but he felt his own heartrate slow. He breathed easier. A smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.

But you pulled away all too soon.

Bucky sat up in pursuit of your recoiling hand, “Thank you…”

“Yeah.” You stood, hoping to make it back to your room before the tears began to fall. But Bucky’s words stopped you.

“I really- I really appreciate you waking me. And doing… that. For me.” He felt himself growing sheepish, but couldn’t let the encroaching embarrassment get the best of him. “I missed it- I missed you.”

Something in you snapped.

You turned toward him with a strange mixture of anger and pain burning behind your eyes, your breathing growing ever sharper.

“Why am I here?” Your tone was calm, measured. It was the kind of rage that turned your words to ice. To stone.

He cocked his head to the side, “um, because of Hydra. Because you’re in danger…”

“But why am I here?” You felt yourself losing control, “You heard they were going after the team’s loved ones and you thought to yourself, ‘hmm, that girl I completely destroyed, that girl whose life I ruined, that girl who I most certainly do not love, that girl I left for no reason, she’s in danger! Hydra will probably go after her, you know, since I haven’t seen her or spoken to her in almost a year!’”

Bucky didn’t know what to say.

“This makes no fucking sense, James!”

James. You’d let one or two ‘Buckys’ slip earlier- never again.

“Why did you come to my apartment? Why did you fucking kidnap me and bring me to this stupid house? Why did you put me on the same tier as Tony’s wife? As Clint’s wife? We aren’t together, I’m not in your life, and I’m certainly not a ‘loved one’- you made that painfully clear. Why did you-”

“Because I still love you”

You rolled your tear-filled eyes, “Don’t you fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not lying…” Bucky sighed. “I swear on my life.”

An ugly scoff broke free from your throat, “I’m supposed to believe that? You once ‘swore on your life’ that you’d never hurt me. And that shit clearly wasn’t true, so-”

“I swear on Steve’s life. I swear on his grave,” Bucky’s voice wavered ever so slightly. “I still love you. I never stopped.”

It rendered you speechless.

“I never wanted to hurt you. And I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “You ‘didn’t know what else to do’? You left me because you ‘didn’t know what else to do’?”

Bucky shook his head. Regret pooled in his chest, and he wished to take back every stupid word. “That’s not what I meant-” he sighed. “I mean… I’m- I’m not meant for this. To be with someone. To be loved. Bad stuff- really bad stuff- follows me around. The war and the train and Hydra and Zemo and Thanos and the blip and the Flag Smashers and-”

He fought to catch his breath. “I break things. Anything I touch- it gets ruined.” He paused for a moment. Everything inside his head moved too fast. It blurred past him and fell from his lips before he had a chance to make edits. And if he was going to fix this, he needed to be in control.

“I never wanted to break you. Or put you in danger.”

“You never hurt me- physically…” you said. “You know I was never scared of you- I didn’t think I was ever in danger with you. I didn’t think you’d break me-”

“No, I know. I know.” Getting to that point had been hard for him. He shied away from you for so long, scared he’d somehow make you bleed or paint your skin with bruises. But you’d worked with him. You showed him patience and moved at his pace, working through the fear he held.

“What I mean is… I got scared because people knew about us. Our relationship was public. And I was afraid that putting you in the public eye like that would invite danger. A lot of people hate me- they want revenge. Retribution. So I thought…” he rolled his eyes at his past-self, at the version of him who let you get away. “I thought removing myself from your life would ensure your safety.” He shrugged, “no one would have reason to come after you if we weren’t together-”

“And look where we are now…” you said, “Hiding. In a safehouse. Because my life is in jeopardy.” Part of you- the soft side- wanted to show him mercy. To hold him and make him feel safe. To console him. But the side of you who wore brass knuckles and steel toed bootsa prevailed, “That was a really fucking stupid thing to do…”

Bucky gave a pained chuckle, “yeah, I- I know.” His cheeks reddened ever so slightly, and his shoulders slumped with shame. He knew he fucked up. “I’m sorry. About all of it. About leaving. About hurting you- God, I never wanted to hurt you.” The pain in his eyes could’ve made you crumble.

“And I’m sorry about putting you in harm’s way. About abducting you like this.” He took a small step in your direction; he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t drawn to you. But he knew he had no right to exist in such close proximity to the person he hurt. And so he stopped himself, no matter how badly he wished he didn’t have to.

“But to answer your question with full honesty…” he said, “you’re here because I love you. Because I’ll always love you. And even though you hate my guts- which you absolutely should- I care about you. And I want to keep you safe, as safe as I can. I want to protect you.” He let out a sigh, “And I know you’re not… you’re not mine to protect, but-” The words tasted like vinegar. If Bucky thought hearing them hurt, he was wrong. Saying them was far worse. “you’re here because I would rather die than let anything happen to you.”

He didn’t like the way your shoulders were yanked up near your ears, the way your arms sat crossed over your chest- like you were trying to protect yourself. But he understood. He’d hurt you- badly. Left you gutted and bleeding. He knew you’d never trust another thing he said- rightfully so.

Silent tears flowed freely down your cheeks and dripped down your neck. The weight of Bucky’s words forced you to lean against the nearest wall. Everything your friends said about him, everything your family told you- it was wrong. He wasn’t apathetic. He wasn’t inconsiderate or manipulative. He was just misguided- maybe a little stupid.

“I told myself…” you finally said, “for months, I told myself that you never loved me. That you used me to make yourself feel better.”

Bucky vehemently shook his head, “that’s not-”

“What was I supposed to do? I needed something to make me feel better…” you said. “It was easier to think that you never loved me. But you left me because you loved me? That’s- that was a terrible idea, by the way.”

“I know…”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded from your eyes and left droplets on your shirt. “I want… I want to believe you. I want to believe every nice thing you just said and pick up right where we left off. But I’m…” You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I’m scared- I’m scared to trust you again. To let my guard down.”

Bucky took another small step in your direction. “That’s fine, that’s… understandable- more than understandable. Smart.”

You nodded.

“And I don’t want you to think- I’m not telling you all of this to convince you to get back together with me. Or to upset you- I never want to hurt you again. You just deserve to know the truth. So…”

He wondered how the two of you got to this point. How you went from domestic bliss to something so ugly. But he knew exactly how it happened- it was his fault. And he didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved to be alone for the rest of his life while you moved on, found someone new- someone better. He wanted that for you. Of course, he’d rather have you all to himself. But it wasn’t right.

“It’s just- I’ve been regretting… well, everything, since the moment I left. I wish I would’ve talked to you, you know? I wish I was honest. I wish I told you what was going on inside my head.” He ran a hand through his hair, “maybe things would’ve been different.”

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say these things…” you said. “But now that you’re saying them it feels…” The floor rocked beneath your feet. You teetered to the side and reached for the arm of the couch- it was all too much. The lack of sleep, the emotional exhaustion, the weight of Bucky’s words. You needed to sit.

Bucky reached for you, desperate to help you steady yourself- but he pulled away. He didn’t have permission to touch you. Not anymore.

“Things absolutely would’ve been different,” you let out a deep sigh. Every possible outcome you came up with ended far better than the reality. “Because we would’ve worked through it together. As a team. And no one would’ve gotten hurt.”

All Bucky could do was nod.

“And maybe we’d still end up in this safe house, but we’d probably use it as a makeshift romantic getaway instead of an agonizingly awkward prison sentence.”

The thought brought a smile to Bucky’s face, to yours. It was easy to imagine the two of you camped out in the living room, reading by the fire and drinking old-fashioneds. You’d stay up late watching movies together and sleep until noon. And when the threat was eliminated, you’d almost wish for more danger- anything to keep the two of you in your own little world.

Everything went quiet. Neither of you knew what to say- or if there were any words appropriate for the situation. Was there even anything else to be said? Part of you wanted to retreat to your bedroom. To hide under your covers. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to squander this moment.

A sad smile pulled at your lips. “I don’t know where… where are we supposed to go from here?” You stared at Bucky as though he had all the answers, as though it wasn’t him who burned your world to the ground.

“I don’t think we have to go anywhere,” he said. “Nothing has to change between us- like I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion about me or make you feel bad. When this whole thing blows over, I’ll take you home. I’ll stay out of your hair.” He leaned against the wall opposite you, submitting to his future- and to his past, “I know I can’t change what I did.”

Another long silence filled the space. It pushed its way in between the two of you and rested heavy against your chest. Bucky waited for a curt ‘okay’ or a quick ‘goodnight’, but no such thing came.

“What if I don’t want that?” you said after a while.

He pushed away from the wall, as though your words pulled him upright. “What?”

“What if I want to try again?” Your heart thundered against your chest, growing faster and faster with each passing second. You stood on the precipice, willing yourself to fall. This was your chance, the opportunity you’d hoped for. And though it sent fear coursing through your veins, you knew you had to jump.

“No matter how many times I tell myself that you hurt me for the fun of it or that you never actually loved me, I don’t believe it. I can’t- even if I want to…” you let out a sad laugh. “Because I know who you are- I know what we had was real. And I think- I know it’s worth trying again.”

A quick flash of pain and anxiety tore through you, hollowing your chest, “And yeah, maybe I’m stupid for being overly optimistic or letting myself be vulnerable with you. But I’m… I’m willing to risk getting hurt all over again.”

Bucky stood stone still, rooted in place. This was all he’d ever wanted. But now that he had it, he feared the thing his heart desired most. What if he fucked up again? What if he hurt you again? What if he squandered his second chance?

“Are you…” Bucky took a deep breath, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Because you’re the only person I’ll ever want, Buck. Because I love you.”

Bucky never thought he’d hear those words again. And before he knew it, he was on the ground in front of you. He sunk to his knees, incapable of standing any longer. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His tears dampened your skin as he let his head fall against your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he possible could. He feared you’d change your mind, that you’d take back everything you said. And if you did, he at least wanted to know that he held you. That he touched you one last time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- you have no idea how sorry I am”, he said between sharp breaths. “I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna make it all up to you, okay? I promise. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, that I’d rather die than lose you again. And I’m-”

“Okay, hey… let’s relax a bit.” You met him on the floor and pulled his head against your chest. You ran a hand along his back, soothing him. His shaky breaths were so sharp, so ragged, that they seemed almost painful. “Breathe, Buck. I love you, okay? And I know you love me- I know. You don’t have to prove it.”

Bucky tried to deliver a rebuttal, but you wouldn’t allow it.

“Hey- it’s okay. We’re okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair, eliciting a deep sigh from his chest. “We’re both tired. And emotional. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s the middle of the night- we can talk things through in the morning.” You gently pulled his head from your chest and swiped the tears from his cheeks. Touching him again, holding him, provided the salve you needed. The wound in your chest started healing. The pain ceased. And for the first time in almost a year, you felt whole.

Your hands found Bucky’s and pulled him up right. With a gentle tug, you led him in the direction of your room.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s go to bed, baby.”

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

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sage-green-matcha · 11 months

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SHAMELESS - ETHAN LANDRY 🕷️

“I need you more than I want to, need you more than I want to” - Camila Cabello

MINORS DNI!

Content includes: SMUT! P in V sex, Mean Ethan, kinda angry sex? Degrading kink, begging!

“There’s just inches in between us. I want you to give in, I want you to give in”

The fact that you had to resist Ethan Landry was one of the hardest tasks you had to accomplish. His daily teasing didn’t make it any better, knowing that you would fold for him in a snap of his fingers. He only made the bet with you because he knew you would lose. But to his surprise, you had gone two months without even touching him.

You wanted to win, badly. The only way you could get both of the things you wanted was if he broke first. you wanted him to give in to you. To touch you in places nobody had ever seen. You craved his touch more than anything else.

“There is tension in between us. I just wanna give in. And I don’t care if I’m forgiven”

Multiple times you almost lost, losing all self-respect and control. The way his eyes scanned over your body made you go feral. The tension could be cut with a knife, everyone noticing.

They knew about the little bet. Even putting money on who would last longer. "Ethans definitely gonna break first. I mean look at her" Chad's laughter filled the room, Ethan letting out a small groan. He knew they were probably right. You were too proud and stubborn. But god, he wanted to give in to you more than anything.

“Right now I’m shameless. Screamin’ my lungs out for you. Not afraid to face it. I need you more than I want to, need you more than I want to”

“That was a stupid bet” your voice came out shaky, cock drunk as you bit down on his shoulder. “You say that cause you lost” he groaned, thrusting his entire cock into you. Hands grabbed at your skin, desperate and needy for the feeling of pleasure.

“That’s..that’s not why” your voice came out angrily, your nails digging into his back as you bounced on his dick. Your breath became uneven, Ethan biting back his lip as his hands rested on your ass. “You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you?” You shook your head, denying the statement that was more than true. His hands gripped your thighs, stopping you from getting any more friction.

“No E, please! Come on” your whimpers filled his ears, trying to move yourself back up. It was no use, he was way bigger than you and he loved to use it to his advantage. “Say it, if you’re so desperate” his eyes were dark with lust, scanning your fucked out face. “I’m a slut for you” “Good girl, so good”

“Show me you’re shameless. Write it on my neck, why don’t you? And I won’t erase it”

His lips tickled your neck, sucking and kissing your sensitive skin. You felt yourself get closer to your orgasm, legs shaking as his nails dug into your waist. “God, Eth…” Heavy breaths filled the room, Ethan thrusting himself into you harshly. His cock fit perfectly inside of you, milking him with each pump. “You’re so tight, my sweet thing”

His words made you melt, pleading and begging for your release. “Not yet” The words sounded harsh through his teeth. He didn’t want it to end, he had held back for too long to stop so soon. “Please Eth, please please please” Your eyebrows furrowed, biting down on his skin. He held you down with force, thrusting deeper and harder to feel all inside your walls. The veins of his dick rubbed against your hole, memorizing every line for you to crave later on.

“Shit” a whimper fell from his lips and you felt your body get hotter, Ethan noticing immediately. “You can cum, sweetheart” the tight knot in your tummy snapped. With just his words your legs started to shake uncontrollably, a ring of cum coating his dick as he pumped harder, chasing his own release. You whined as it had become too much for you, the feeling of hot cum filling you up almost making you cum again.

”I told you…I’d win” his voice was still shaky, trying to regain his composure. “You’re a bitch” you grumbled, yelping as he sat you back down on his dick harshly. “Too much? I’m sorry…” his words made your eyes roll back, pulling his lips in for a harsh kiss. “Yea, but we both know you wouldn’t have been able to resist me any longer. I did us both a favor” his dick hardened back up inside of you, this time thrusting deeper inside your walls. “Don’t be a brat, Y/n”

“I need you more than I want to, need you more than I want to”

A/n: help

1K notes · View notes

djarincore · 5 months

Text

The Name of Love

SUMMARY: You knew him by three names: Mando, Din, and finally, riduur.

PAIRING: din djarin x gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, canon typical violence, blood, hypothermia, happy ending

A/N: a repost from my previous blog! i've only written 2 full din fics so far but this is def my favorite one <3 thanks again to @xiadeptus for beta reading this

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You first knew him as the Mandalorian, the stoic and aloof bounty hunter that drifted in and out of Tatooine looking for work or ship repairs. The glinting armor was hard not to notice under the scorching twin suns, along with his infamous reputation that followed in whispers—whispers which mainly revolved around the strange, green child he carried around in a bag and the fact that he never showed his face.

When you first got the job at Peli’s garage, thanks to the favor she owed your mother, the sight of the Mandalorian descending the ramp of his beaten-up Razor Crest had you slipping behind a couple of stacked crates with the rest of the quivering pit droids. He strode down the ramp toward your boss who was already reaching for the green child trailing after him.

“There’s my little guy!” She exclaimed, scooping him up and cradling him in her arms. The child cooed and clasped her finger in his three-fingered grasp. His keeper watched on with hands on his hips; the helmet remained solely focused on the child.

“We need a repair,” he said, the rasp in his voice still remaining despite the modulator.

“Sure thing but, just so you know, it’ll cost you a little extra this time. Got a new hire.” She jerked her thumb in your direction.

You took it as your cue to reveal yourself, noting the way his helmet turned, carefully looking you up and down, and his hand slowly moved toward the blaster at his waist, like he wasn’t above shooting the harmless mechanic’s assistant and a couple of droids. You lifted both hands, stained with oil, as a show of goodwill.

“Aw, relax, Mando,” Peli drawled, swatting the air with her nonchalant attitude. “They’re not a droid.”

His hand slipped off the handle, but remained at his side, ready to draw if necessary.

You sent him a friendly half-smile and his gloved fingers twitched.

“Fine.”

The remainder of the day was spent repairing the left wing and engine of his ship, which looked like it had seen the losing side of a gunfight, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to limp down to Tatooine without crashing and burning once he broke through the atmosphere.

The job would have been faster if you had some assistance from the droids, but Peli made it clear they weren’t allowed anywhere near the ship or the Mandalorian, making his disdain for them abundantly clear. You wondered the whole day what a droid could have done to make him hate even the smallest of droids. The theories you built in your head ran wild, ranging from a nasty betrayal by a trusted ally to tripping him in a crowded cantina, embarrassing him so badly he vowed to never show his face ever again.

You leaned against the rope of the swing suspending you off the ground, taking a break from welding metal back together, and watched the Mandalorian move below your feet. He walked with purpose, something a fearsome bounty hunter with a widespread reputation was expected to do; every step was carefully calculated like a predator hunting prey. Behind him was the child clumsily waddling, as fast as his legs could carry him, after the man.

Your lips curved into a soft smile while observing the dichotomy of the two. It warmed your heart to see how attached the child was to his guardian. More questions formed in your mind about their relationship; the rumors didn’t contain the exact details of how the two came to be together.

Maybe the child is his biological son and beneath all the armor is green, wrinkly skin and comically large ears tucked into the helmet, you joked to yourself.

You pressed one of the buttons on the side of your swing to lower yourself to the ground. Your feet touched the floor, but you didn’t get up.

“Your ship should be up and running in no time.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“No pro- Oh!” You exclaimed when something poked at your leg. A three-fingered hand was tapping your leg; large black eyes gazed up at you. You cooed, “Hello there, little guy.”

He tugged at the cuff of your pants, waving his arms in the air. You waved back, fighting back the urge to smooth your fingers over his floppy ears.

“He wants you to hold him.”

“Ah,” you chuckled, cheeks warming. You didn’t have much experience with children; in fact, you didn’t know the first thing about caring for one. They had so many needs, so many different ways of communicating them too. The pressure to mold them into upstanding beings—it was just too much. But, you could definitely hold a child, especially one as cute as him.

You pulled him into your arms and he immediately found the strings of your shirt vastly entertaining.

“I think he likes me,” you quipped.

The child’s babble sounded like a positive response.

“Me too,” the Mandalorian said, leaning against a crate and watching the two of you.

There were multiple rotations between their visits. Each visit brought a new scratch, ding, or completely wrecked engine that made you look on in disbelief, but you were eager to see the two nonetheless. They brought stories of their adventures, bounties, and new people they met.

You would be the first to greet them, standing at the base of the ship’s ramp with a wide grin and many questions budding on the tip of your tongue.

“Hey.”

The modulated voice made you snap out of your thoughts.

“Yes, sir?”

You could hear him huff behind the modulator. He said to just call him Mando the first time you called him sir, but you never picked it up, finding it too entertaining to hear his exasperated sighs.

“Want to get off this planet? I’ve got a job proposition.”

Your goodbyes were easy—a hug for Peli, head pats for each droid—and suddenly, you found yourself sitting in the cockpit of the ship you had been repairing for the past few rotations.

You quickly learned space was cold and you were not prepared. The thin clothes you were used to on Tatooine wouldn’t cut it anymore and it left you shivering in the passenger seat.

You sunk down your seat, wrapping your arms around yourself to find a semblance of warmth.

You weren’t sure what your purpose was in the time between ports, but even if you knew, you were frozen to your seat and unable to move without feeling stiff.

Soon, you fell asleep, lulled by the stars and the sound of beeps and hollow groans of an old ship.

You woke to fabric being draped over your body and a glimmer of beskar.

The hands over the fabric paused; the Mandalorian stepped back, hands returning to his side, flexing at his waist. “Should have told me you were cold.”

You gripped the fabric and realized it was one of his thick, woolen capes which smelled of caf beans and leather. You resisted the urge to nestle your cheek against the wool and savor the comfort it offered.

“I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re a part of my crew now,” he said firmly. “We take care of each other.”

Your heart stuttered, fingers curled tighter around his cape, and you muttered a pathetic, “Yeah.”

From the kindness he offered, you made a silent promise at that moment; as long as the three of you were together, you would do anything to protect them.

It wouldn’t be long before you realized he felt the same.

—

Then, you learned his name, his real name—Din Djarin. It had been a while into your partnership. You learned far more about the two than your theories could have imagined—his Creed, his force-wielding child.

The three of you had a good routine. He would scout out bounties while you either worked on the ship or found other mechanic work elsewhere if the ship was (miraculously) undamaged. Grogu would be passed between the two of you. If Mando’s bounty was too dangerous for him to follow you’d take him for the day, letting him pass you random tools and praising him for helping. And at the end of the day, the three of you reconvened with separate checks that would go toward supplies and other basic necessities. If it was a particularly rough day, you would be forcing him onto a crate and checking his wounds.

“I’m fine,” he would insist, attempting to push your wandering hands aside. But, you could see the unsteady shake of his hand and the sliver of skin and blood showing on his waist where he was cut.

It was a simple routine, but it worked. You had no complaints…

…Well, just one.

“ Kriff, we’re gonna crash!” You cried, shutting your eyes to avoid seeing your imminent doom that took the form of two towering cliffs of ice far too close together for the ship to slip through. The two tailing bounty hunter ships had followed you from Nevaro, after accusing Mando of stealing a bounty from them, which he rightfully caught.

You knew working for a bounty hunter wasn’t going to be easy, comfortable, or safe—but, you trusted him. He was good at what he did and you never doubted it.

The ship turned on its side, jerking your entire body to the right, and left you at the mercy of the belt across your body to keep you in your seat. You could hear the scrape of ice across the bottom of the ship and cringed, knowing you’d have to repair that (if you even made it out of this alive).

When the ship slipped free from the narrow gap and straightened. you let out a breath and opened your eyes. Snow, miles, and miles of it, touched everything your eyes could see.

He glanced at you over his shoulder. If you could see his face, you’d guess it was smug.

You were getting better at reading your faceless partner. He didn’t say much but his body did with every head tilt and shrug. And you would catch yourself spending a lot of time just observing him.

“You’ve gotta stop piloting like that,” you huffed, cradling your head when you feel the slightest throb. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

“Don’t plan on it,” came his monotone response.

The ship cruised, his helmet scanning the horizon, and kept low in the meantime. There was no sign of the other two ships.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and stood; a wave of dizziness had you staggering. When your hand flew out to catch on to something, you found his, already reaching out to steady you in his strong grasp. The brush of his thumb over your knuckles made your breath catch.

“I have to lie down.” To stop your heart from racing at his subtle touches.

You thought you had gotten used to it by now—the way he made you feel safe. Whether it was his hand hovering over the base of your spine as he guided you through a crowded market or how he would always position himself between you and whatever shady character he had dealings with. The small gestures piled up and toyed with your mind. You understood the signs—heart racing, nervous tension in your chest—the budding symptoms of love.

“We’re not in the clear yet.”

You brushed the heat crawling over your neck off and said, “Can’t we land somewhere and wait them out a while? I’m gonna be sick if you start flying upside down.”

The beginning of his argument was cut off by the cockpit door opening. You slipped out and down the ladder into the cargo hold. Some crates shifted to the right of the ship as a result of the sharp turn. You weren’t concerned with them as much as you were with your makeshift bed space, a flimsy sleeping bag and some blankets, which were also flung off to the side. One of your blankets was stuck under a crate, too heavy for you to lift by yourself.

You groaned, weakly tugging at the fabric peeking out beneath. You were cold, tired, and sick—you already hated this planet.

You heard a curse from above and Mando shouted, “Hold onto something!”

You didn’t have time to react before the ship was nose-diving, throwing you against the wall. You clung to the ladder as the ship's sporadic movements jostled your entire body. It continued for a few more seconds before settling and the engines cut out. Everything was finally still, except your heart.

You heard the creaks of ice settling beneath the ship, then cracks. It wasn’t long before the ice gave way to the weight, shattering into a cavern below and dragging the ship with it.

You don’t remember hitting your head, just the scream that came before it. But, when you finally came to, numb and confused, Mando was rattling your shoulders with a panicked voice.

“Wake up.”

You could have sworn in your daze there was a desperate ‘please’ added at the end.

You groaned, peeling your eyes open, “Mando?”

He sighed like a massive weight was lifted off of him. “Yeah,” he said, there was a hint of a smile in his voice. He carefully slipped his arms behind your shoulders and knees. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

You were half aware of him lifting you, too dazed by the cold settling under your skin and making a home deep in your bones.

The hull was dusted with snow and frost. You spotted a large hole in the side of the ship, crudely covered with a tarp and some crates.

“Got t’ fix,” you mumbled, leaning your head against his shoulder pauldron. You didn’t even know where to start with something that large on this barren planet. If you weren’t so cold, the dread would have set in, realizing you were stranded on a barren planet with little resources to dig yourselves up from a cold grave.

“Not right now,” he grunted, kicking your toolbox aside—the one he gifted you on Nevaro after you eyed it at a stall for too long. He approached the small corner beside his bunk, which was caved in, where there was little snow piled. He set you down, supporting the back of your head with his hand as he laid you against the wall. “I’ll be right back.”

You could’ve protested if your mouth or eyes didn’t feel frozen shut; all you wanted to do was drift off.

“Hey, hey,” he said. He ripped a glove off and pressed his warm hand to your cheek. “Don’t fall asleep.”

You moaned, pushing closer to the warmth, and tried to focus on his visor.

“There you go. Good.”

With your thoughts slowly catching up, you glanced around his shoulders, not seeing a floating pram anywhere. You wanted to get up and rush around him in search of the child, but all you could muster was a sharp turn of your head that still sent pain down your neck. “Where’s-”

Mando brought your face back to him. His steady voice pulled you out of your panic. “He’s fine. He’s up in the cockpit; I’ll bring him down after I get you some blankets.”

“Okay.” You rested your head against the wall and watched as he untied his cape and slipped it over your shoulders, tucking it close around your body.

He disappeared up the ladder. You heard his faint footsteps, scouring the upper level. He returned soon, a few blankets slung over his shoulder and Grogu tucked in his other arm.

He set Grogu down and moved you forward just enough for him to sling more blankets over your shoulders.

If you could feel your face, maybe you’d laugh at how ridiculous you looked and felt, like a small child being coddled by a worried parent. But, he wasn’t a worried parent, he was your employer—your incredibly kind and caring employer, who you often dreamt of as more than an employer, more than a friend.

“Aren’t y-you,” you chattered, “cold, too?”

You worried about him under all that shining armor; he could be hiding an injury like he always did, pretending he was fine and limping off somewhere else to lick his wounds alone. You wished he wouldn’t be so stubborn all the time.

Grogu crawled into your lap, playing with the tips of your frozen fingers. Mando said something about his armor keeping him warm, but you didn’t register any of it when his hands enveloped yours—calloused and warm.

“Try to keep your arms and legs moving,” he said, massaging the palm of your hands. Then he directed his attention to Grogu. “Okay, kid, keep your buir warm. I’m going to repair the ship.”

“Hm?” You cocked your head at the word. Sure, he liked sneaking Mando’a words into his sentences from time to time—sometimes calling you mesh’la or cyar’ika, which made you blush because of how sincere he sounded—but you just assumed they were nicknames. You assumed buir meant babysitter or something along those lines, too. “Stealing my job, Mando?” you quipped instead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

When his hands slipped from yours, your fingers twitched, almost asking him not to go. You would warm up faster if he were with you.

He slipped past the tarp, into the cavern of snow. Grogu’s babble drew your attention; his arms were raised.

You apologized, “Sorry, kid, I’d lift you up, but my arms are a bit sore right now.”

He continued to babble as he found comfort nestled in your lap instead. You rested your head against the wall and stared at the opening where Mando left, still feeling the ghost of his warmth on your hand.

The minutes you spent slowly flexing your hands and feet paid off; your strength was slowly returning. Grogu crawled off of your lap and watched as you, with the grace of a newborn calf, pushed yourself onto unsteady feet.

“Okay, kid, let’s go help your dad.” You scooped him up and braced yourself with Mando’s cape, making sure the two of you were snug beneath the fabric before pushing aside the tarp and stepping outside into the frigid weather.

The cold winds were the first to greet you; already, your cheeks were growing numb. Grogu let out a disapproving grunt, clearly not favoring the cold either.

You stayed close to the side of the ship in case your legs gave out and rounded the tail end before finding Mando, with frost coating his armor and hands on his hip, staring at a jumble of wires hanging from an open panel.

Upon seeing his father, Grogu cheered in your arms, alerting the Mandalorian whose head snapped in your direction.

He was already approaching you before declaring, “You need to rest.”

“I can’t cozy up in there while you’re out here all by yourself. Look at you.” You drew a line in the frost coating his chest plate. “You must be freezing under all that.”

“I said I’m-”

“Fine,” you finished. “I know, I know—you’re always fine, Mando.”

You were growing tired of his stubborn attitude concerning his well-being and of standing for so long. You were beginning to sway without realizing it, but Mando’s quick hand on your shoulder steadied you.

“I got you,” he murmured. He took Grogu from you and moved to your side. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, silently guiding you back into the ship’s hull and onto the spot where the blankets were piled.

Once you were settled, you expected him to wander back out but, to your surprise, he began detaching pieces of his armor.

You watched, mouth agape, as one by one the shining beskar revealed a dark flight suit that molded with the contours of his body. The helmet, of course, stayed.

He eased himself onto the floor beside you and wrapped the three of you beneath the blankets. Your eyes widened when his arm pressed against yours. You dared to rest your head against his shoulder; you relished in the comfort of his presence, finally feeling warmer than ever. His body began to relax gradually with your head on his shoulder and his chest rose and fell in an even rhythm.

With Grogu resting in your lap it almost felt like the three of you were a family, settling in after a long day.

“You’re always protecting everyone,” you said, exhaustion beginning to creep over you once again. “We’re a crew, right? Let me take care of you too.”

You knew the irony in saying that while he was taking care of you, but you hoped he would remember it.

He slipped his gloves off to flex the stiff muscles. “I’m,” he started, “just not used to this.”

“Having a crew?” You guessed.

“Having someone care.”

Your mouth dropped open with a response dying on your tongue. Instead, you resolved to take his hand and curl your fingers through his. They were stiff from the cold, but relaxed once your thumb ran over the ridges of his knuckles.

“You’re a good man and I trust you with my life. Don’t think for a second I don’t care about you, Mando. I-” You cut yourself off.

You what? Loved him? Kriff. He just started opening up to you. Telling him you were in love with him right after would surely make him run in the other direction. You doubted he felt the same. You could read him, but not that well.

“Din.”

You snapped out of your thoughts, relieved he didn’t attempt to figure out what you were going to say. “What?”

“My name’s Din.”

He was looking at you now. Maybe if you squinted hard enough you could catch a glimpse of his eyes behind his darkened visor, but you wouldn’t disrespect his Creed and you didn’t think you could handle seeing his strong gaze, boring into you.

So, you turned your eyes down toward your intertwined hands; you tested his name on your tongue and smiled.

Getting off the ice planet took work—a mix of frustration and determination—and you swore to get a nice vacation on some far, far away planet, preferably with a warm, sunny beach.

But, the ship needed heavier repairs, forcing the three of you to find the nearest planet, Trask, for maintenance. A dock worker was quick to offer his services, charging more than necessary, once you landed.

You frowned when Din agreed without hesitation, dropping the credits into his slimy hands. You could have rolled up your sleeves and got to work yourself with better equipment at hand, but Din insisted on the three of you getting some real rest after the stress of the past three days.

The place was seedy, smelled of fish, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of unwanted eyes stalking the three of you as you passed through the quiet harbor. You and Din walked on either side of Grogu’s floating pram.

You, with a scowl glued to your face, pulled your cape, one of Din’s, tighter around yourself. The toolbox Din gifted you was clasped in your hand, deemed too precious to leave behind while strangers fixed the ship. You leaned into Din and whispered, “We should just go back to Tatooine for the repairs; I can do it.”

“I know you can, but the ship’s too damaged and you know it.”

You huffed.

Grogu mimicked your huff, putting on his best grouchy face, and your frown lightened into a smile, pointing at the boy. “See—even he agrees with me.”

Din let out an amused hum. “When did the two of you decide to team up against me?”

“We hold secret meetings when you’re out and conspire against you.”

“Guess I should watch my back,” he deadpanned.

Night fell quickly on Trask and before you knew it, the streets were oddly quiet, only lit by dim street lights in rounded sections.

Din’s stride grew cautious; his helmet subtly turned to scan the area.

You also took caution, straining your ears for anything out of place, but all you heard was the nearby tide pulling in and out.

There was a shift in the gravel behind you. Din’s hand shot out to shove aside Grogu’s pram, sending him off to a nearby stack of crates, and he could only brush your shoulder before turning and deflecting a blaster shot with his vambrace. The heat from the blast radiated in the air around you.

“Run!” He barked, ripping his blaster from its holder and firing off a shot into the dark.

Your feet hesitated and your heart stuttered when another blast hit his chest plate, forcing a grunt from him. But, the sound of worried coos snapped you out of it. You turned and ran toward Grogu who watched the fight with large eyes.

Three figures emerged from the darkness, dressed like pirates, and armed with unrelenting blasters all aimed at Din.

“Give up the armor, Mando.” One of them demanded.

“It’s time to hide, okay?” You said, tucking Grogu into the pram. Your thumb brushed over the mythosaur necklace he always wore like a lucky charm and you were praying it would work. You pressed the button on the outside of his pram to shut it.

The fight was coming to a close by the time you turned back, much to your relief. Two were knocked out cold, sprawled across the floor while the remaining one continued to fight. Both of them resorted to hand-to-hand combat after they managed to disarm one another.

Just when you thought you could relax, the remaining pirate pulled out a blade and took a swipe at Din, plunging it deep into his side and back out. Your breathing stopped when Din staggered and fell to his knees.

The pirate grabbed him by his cowl, pressing the bloodied blade to his throat, and sneered, “Give up.”

Your hands shook. Not like this, you thought. You couldn’t— wouldn’t —lose him. You dropped your toolbox and fell to your knees, wrenching it open to look for anything that would help. You pulled the largest item free, the hammer, and ran. Adrenaline pushed your feet toward the two and, putting all your weight into it, you swung at the pirate's head, sending him stumbling back.

Only dazed, the pirate sent you a menacing glare, lips pulled back into a snarl, and spat out curses, promising you’d regret it.

Your hand clenched the hammer, heart racing, ready to swing again as he prepared to lunge at you. Not even fear or the promise of death would stop you from saving Din.

Then, something ignited, cold and droning like echoes of the abyss, behind the pirate.

You smelt the smoke before the nauseating burnt flesh. It made your stomach roll.

A haunting glow emitted from the pirate's chest before it was sliced clean through. He fell—lifeless—with a thud, crimson leaking from the gash and pooling around him.

Din stood over him—one hand clutching his waist and the other holding the darksaber. His chest rose and fell; his helmet was fixated on the body. You could hear the leather of his gloves cry as his hand tightened around the hilt of the saber.

You never saw him use it before. It looked more like an accessory on him rather than a weapon. He once explained its bloody history and how he came to acquire it. The weight of its importance haunted him, a burden he never wished to bear.

“Oh, Maker,” you cried, rushing toward him. The darksaber unignighted; the heavy atmosphere disappeared along with it and time continued. You dropped the hammer and pressed your hand to his wound. Blood seeped through his fingers and onto yours.

He grunted, “I’m…”

Your wavering voice saying his name made him pause.

“Let’s get out of the street,” he said instead. He waved Grogu’s pram forward with the controls on his vambrace. It opened, revealing the whimpering child.

The three of you limped all the way to an inn. When the innkeeper sent you a weary look, you demanded the first room available and a medical kit—whatever the price. After slapping the credits on the counter, you snatched up the kit and dragged Din toward the room, not caring about the drops of blood staining the hallway.

The room was small and gray; a single bed set in the middle of the room, a nightstand on either side, and a fresher. You eased him onto the bed, where he slumped and groaned.

The medical kit was meager; a suture kit, antiseptic wipes, and a few bacta patches, but it would do. You dashed to the fresher to wash your hands. You scrubbed them viciously, watching his blood run down the sink. Tears blurred your vision. The red wouldn’t stop running.

When you emerged from the fresher, his shirt was already rolled up and he was attempting to clean his wound. Grogu was asleep in his pram, wiped out from all the excitement.

You released a tired sigh. “Let me.”

You moved to take the cloth from him, kneeling at his feet and wiping around the area of the wound gently.

“Don’t do that again,” he rasped.

“Save your life?” The playful tone you attempted fell flat. As much as you wanted to be amused, the fear of losing him still suffocated you. He was safe, your thoughts repeated.

Once the wound was cleaned you pulled the needle from the kit. You were in over your head and a bit nauseous. Cleaning wounds was easy, but stitching them up was something else.

You’ve seen him cauterize his own wounds and pinched your nose when the smell became too much. He didn’t deserve the scars they left behind and this was your opportunity to finally take care of him.

You willed your hands not to tremble as you notched the needle through his skin, apologizing when he sucked in a sharp breath or flinched.

“I told you to run.”

Your voice was finally firm when you said, “I’m not going to leave you.”

He was your partner, through and through, and you cared for him.

When you were finished, you unwrapped a bacta patch and laid it over the suture. You smoothed over the patch and withdrew your hands.

He was already sitting up taller, no longer hunched over or wheezing. You knew it was a good sign but you still trembled all over.

You raised your head, but your eyes were stuck on his cowl where a sliver of his blood was left from the blade. The tears were returning, flooding your bottom lashes.

Would that pirate have killed him right there on the street, stripped him of his armor, and left him like trash? You would have had to drag his body back to the ship—would have to tell Grogu his father was dead.

“Cyar’ika, look at me,” he said, finding your cheek with his palm. “Just breathe.”

You didn’t realize you were gasping for breath, tears running down your cheeks until your eyes finally connected with his visor.

“I just can’t lose you, Din,” you cried. “I can’t .”

There was so much you wanted to say—so much he needed to know. You were so close to losing him and losing the chance to admit how you’d grown to feel over the course of your partnership.

He guided you onto the bed and held you until the tears stopped and subsided into sniffles. Your face was buried in his cowl and your arms were thrown around his shoulder.

“I can’t lose you either,” he admitted, a waver in his voice. You were so close you could almost hear the sound of his real voice. His words were tender and sincere.

Your breath hitched and a realization washed over you.

He pulled back and you pulled yourself out of his neck with wide eyes. Cold metal met your forehead.

“You mean far too much to me.”

For a man of few words, he still said so much. Your hand brushed below the rim of his helmet. “I love you, Din,” you confessed.

Your heart pounded as you waited for his response—for even the sharpest intake of breath. But, it was silent—all but your heart remained still as he processed your words. Your hand slipped away, back to the safety of your personal bubble, which was beginning to shrink as the silence became an oppressive weight on your shoulders.

Say something, you wanted to shout. Did you read his words wrong? Was it just appreciation for his… employee?

“Close the curtains and turn off the light.”

Your brows furrowed and you cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“Please.”

You stood with a frown and shuffled to shut the curtains, then made your way to the light switch. You took one last glance over your shoulder, before flipping the switch and submerging the room in darkness. You could hardly see his silhouette as you shuffled back to the bed with your hands out in front.

A calloused hand found your wandering ones, carefully pulling you down to sit beside him once again, not letting go. Then, you heard a click and a hiss, like he was detaching his—

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing and you tried pulling away. Even in the darkness, where shadows fell across the silhouette of his body, you couldn’t risk seeing him—no matter how curious.

“Din, no-”

“It’s alright,” he reassured. The low rasp of his voice was no longer modified by his helmet. He chased after you in the dark; his hand moved to the back of your neck, drawing your face closer to his. You could feel the warmth of his breath brushing across your lips.

The smell of caf and leather drew you closer you and you fell into its embrace. It was your safety, your haven—the home you found in him, along with his son and his beaten-down ship.

“ Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner cyar’ika, ” he whispered into the darkness, gentle devotion laced in his words. “ I love you .”

When he kissed you, it was slow, a tender meeting of lips which you both relaxed into. The weight off your shoulders disappeared and all you could do was smile against his lips and draw him closer.

That night you traced his features in the dark, committing every outline and curve to memory, with a content smile and full heart while he held you close. You didn’t need to see his face to love him; it could wait—forever if it meant you’d still have him.

“You know,” he said in the darkness with you tucked close under his arm, “you wield a hammer well. It reminds me of someone I know.”

“Really? Who?”

It was nearly a full cycle before you met the Armorer, the mysterious figure Din would mention from time to time, a woman he seemed to respect.

You were nervous. Though he never said it directly, she was like a maternal figure and you wanted to make a good impression.

Ever since Trask, the two of you were closer than ever. He had no reservations when it came to you. His hand would lay firmly against your lower back as he crowded around you, guiding you through busy markets, pulling you close whenever someone bumped into you. You no longer slept alone, trading out your flimsy sleeping bag for a cozy spot in his bed. At night when the lights were out, you’d finally get to kiss him and share dreams.

The covert was located on a barren planet. You wouldn’t have guessed there was any life if it weren’t for the scattered Mandalorian sparing at the mouth of a cave.

By the time you landed near the lake, only two Mandalorians emerged to greet you.

“It’s been a while.” A large, blue man said upon approaching, greeting the three of you with a simple nod. He towered over everyone, a mass of muscle and armor that radiated intimidation.

As he approached, your foot slid back as you bent your neck to meet his visor and you bumped into Din. He rested a hand on your shoulder. “This is Paz, my brother.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said, sticking a hand out.

The hand that takes yours is firm; he shook once and let go. The hand on your shoulder squeezed.

“It seems your clan has grown.” The figure to Paz’s right spoke, her visor trained on the hand over your shoulder. You needed no introduction for her. It was obvious in the way she spoke, authoritative and clear, that she was the Armorer.

Your lips quirked. A clan, huh?

She welcomed you briefly and Din requested a private audience in her forge. When Din handed Grogu off to you, he said, “Stay with Paz, cyar’ika.”

“Cyar’ika?” The Armorer paused. “Have you claimed them as your riduur?”

You cast Din a curious glance. Riduur?

“I… haven’t,” he said carefully.

“I see.” She resumed her pace and disappeared into the cave.

Din followed, not before pressing his forehead to yours. It was like a kiss, he explained once. You were fine with it. You knew as soon as the day was over, he’d make up for all the kisses you’d missed out on.

“He seems to like you.”

“I would hope so,” you quipped, turning to Paz once Din was out of sight. “He loves me, after all.”

You finally got your well-deserved vacation—on a planet called Pabu, with bright blue skies and a sparkling blue ocean—and more than you could have ever wished for.

Gentle waves lapped at your bare feet as you leaned back against the palm of your hands to soak in the last of the dying sun.

Relaxing like this felt rare and fleeting; part of you was worried some other danger would rear its ugly head and ruin the tranquility. But, a quick glance toward Grogu, who was splashing in the water, and Din, standing watch to make sure he didn’t snatch up any crabs as a snack, dispelled any worry and replaced it with a warmth that spread through your chest like the sun's rays.

You cracked a smile at the Mandalorian who was barefoot as well, after you convinced him to step into the waves, with his pants rolled up to the bottom of his knees.

“Stop that,” came Din’s chastising demand. Grogu was levitating a poor crab toward his mouth before letting it fall back into the water with a grumble, his ears pulled back as he looked up at his father with a pout. “You’ll ruin your dinner,” he reasoned, reaching down to scoop the fussing child from the water.

You stood, wiping away sand clinging to your thighs, and walked over to the pair. Din’s helmet followed you as you approached, his shoulders were far more relaxed than you’d ever seen them.

Even when you stood in front of them, finger brushing along Grogu’s ear as he cooed, his gaze did not stray. You just thought it was your bathing suit; it showed off more skin than usual. Which, you admit, you hoped would catch his attention.

“Problem?” You teased, looking at him with a sly smile.

He shook his head slowly. He was uncharacteristically quiet, more so than usual. Ever since his private chat with the Armorer, he’d been distracted. Staring more than usual—at you, the controls of the ship, the floor—like he was lost deep in thought.

You looked out at the sunset, a wash of orange and gold against a glittering sea. You let out a wistful sigh. “I could spend forever here with you two.”

“You mean that?”

“Nothing would make me happier.”

His hand drifted toward the pouch on his belt, fingering the hem. A nervous habit, you assumed, he picked up after visiting the Armorer.

You rested your hand on his and asked, “Are you sure there’s no problem?”

“Marry me.”

You froze, mouth agape.

“M-marry you?”

“I wish for more days like today, too—safe, peaceful days together with our son.” He opened his pouch and pulled out a silver ring that glittered against the setting sun, reminding you of his armor.

Your hand slipped from his to your mouth, covering up the shock written across your face. Your watering eyes moved between the two who’ve grown so close to your heart. They were your life, your home, and you’d spend forever with them. You knew your answer—you’ve always known, ever since he asked you to join them. In your heart it was always—

“Yes,” you cried, throwing your arms around the two of them. “Yes, absolutely!”

You stayed tucked in his arms with Grogu nestled between the two of you. And, in the foreground of a golden sky, he asked if you would cite the Mandalorian vows.

Riduur, he said, you would be mine, and I you. Our hearts will be written together in song.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors.”

Finally, he was no longer just the Mandalorian or Din, he was your riduur.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #gn!reader #my works

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lila-lou · 5 months

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 4/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, sorta prostitution, kinda dirty, violence

Word Count: 1834

A/N: This is part 4 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After another agonizing silence, you turned on the radio. But even Bob Seger couldn't lift the mood with his night moves. You groaned in despair and let your head fall against the window. Soldier Boy watched you out of the corner of his eye for a while before he patted your thigh and got over himself. “C´mon (y/n)! Don't be a grumpy little bitch", he tried his best to sound relaxed and cool but you just turned to him with your eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding? You broke my damn wrist!”. Your voice was filled with amazement and anger.

“Uh-uh! A bit more than sprained. Not quiet broken. There’s a difference”, he raised his index finger for emphasis, moving his gaze back and forth between you and the street.

“Ben!-”. “I fucking apologized, didn’t I?! It was… not intentional and certainly not planned… Who would have thought that you-". This time you interrupted him. “That I what? That I don't suddenly take off my panties for you? Ben! I thought we were friends?”. Your voice cracked slightly towards the end.

“I don’t have any friends,” was all he replied.

“Well, thanks for the clarification!”, you bit back. “How the fuck am I now the bad guy again?! I apologized! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here and you're making it fucking hard for me not to kick you out the damn Car!". Ben was really trying to understand you, but he was new to this. It was new to him, not being adored and worshipped.

“Are you really listening to yourself, Ben? I'm probably the only person on this damn planet who cares about you. And you…why did you have to ruin that?”. This time even he could hear the disappointment in your voice. Still, he didn't know how to make amends for what he had done. “(y/n) I-”. Ben rubbed his beard and looked at you discouraged. “Why did you think I would… let you sleep with me?", you looked at him and felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "Shit, you can barely say it without blushing". Despite the depressed mood, Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little about that fact.

Another silence followed.

“You’re fucking hot (y/n), okay? And I'm horny. Since Russia it feels like I`m horny 24/7. And you doll can’t deny that it would be handy for you to let off some steam too”.

Ben’s eyes found yours. He wasn't lying, but you knew he was hiding something from you.

No matter how long your dry spell had lasted and no matter what Ben would say or do, you could never confess to him that you had been attracted to him from day one. Those words would never pass your lips. Towards no one. Ben was pretty “nice” to you, well at least by his standards. And even though you got along pretty well, it could never be anything more than friendship. Soldier Boy just wasn't a good person. He was incapable of showing emotion, let alone loving anyone but himself. So why should you get involved with him? And even though you had dreamed countless times about him giving you pleasure, fucking you stupid and giving you orgasms like no one else could, you had your principles. No sex without feelings.

“Flattering, but no”, you said, trying to be gentle.

"Why not? A shitload of women would fucking pay for that, do you realize that?”, he replied, stunned. “Okay, listen", you turned to him in the passenger seat and fixed him with your gaze. “Why do you want to sleep with me so badly? Why me? If there are so many women who would do anything to have you fuck ´em unconscious, why clinging to me? Tell me what makes me different? and… well, if I like the reason, maybe I'll think about it". You obviously upset Ben with your words. You could see all the wheels in his brain turning and even after a few minutes he didn't have an answer to your question.

"I thought so. We’re here”, you sighed, getting out of the car. “Give me 5 minutes head start”, you added before slamming the car door and walking with fast steps across the large parking lot. “Day drinking and prostitution, here I come,” you grumble to yourself.

What Butcher had told you, went absolutely against your morals, but you had felt beyond useless for the last few weeks, which was why you finally wanted to prove to yourself that you were useful for more than just tracking down Supes. Although you couldn't imagine anyone more disgusting to set an example than the Deep.

When you entered the bar, the first thing that hit you, was the smell of marijuana and cheap perfume. Even though it appeared to be an upscale local, the owners didn't seem to have much to offer their employees. You looked around and saw half naked girls dancing on poles, fat old men on the sofas in front of them with drool running down the corners of their mouths and in the middle of it all, the Deep. “You got this”, you motivated yourself before taking off your coat, placing it over a bar stool and smoothing down your too-tight and short dress. With a smooth movement of your hand, you threw back your laboriously curled hair and walked past your target's lounge with confident and elegant steps. “Three, two, one-”, you whispered as you felt a hand on your forearm.

“Hey beautiful, where are you going with those beautiful legs of yours?". Oh, how you wished you could have rolled your eyes. Instead, you spun on your heels to find the Deep leaning back into the sofa, letting go of your arm. “Don’t you want to join me?”, he grinned at you. Unfortunately, putting on a show and playing ´hard to get´ didn’t work for him because his brain cells weren’t up to it. “Oh shit, you’re the Deep, aren’t you?”, you feign surprise, holding a hand over your bright red lips. “That’s exactly what it looks like, baby. Come here, come to me”, he didn't pat the sofa, but rather his lap.

After a few minutes of small talk you could finally see Ben from a distance, but he first looked at all the dancing ladies. You tried several times to get his attention but to no avail. He was only a few steps into the bar and two girls were already grinding on him. And Ben being Ben, he wasted no time and starting with cupping their asses. One of the two pushed him onto a bar stool while the other started giving him a lap dance, wearing nothing but a lace thong.

“So baby, don’t you want to show me a little bit of yourself?”. Kevin’s right hand stroked your thigh under your dress while you lay in his left arm. He pushed you further into the sofa, his hand squeezing your ass and making you gasp. In order not to completely give up control, you pushed against his chest with all your strength and quickly slipped onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rode up. Anyone walking behind you would have been able to see your bare butt if Kevin hadn't immediately covered it up with both hands. "Hmm… You want to be in charge, don't you?". You could already feel his erection against your thigh, which only disgusted you more. “How about we dance first?”, you grinned at him, hoping to buy some time. “No, no, no, but you can sure dance for me, baby”, the Deep replied with a big ass smirk. You took Kevin's glass and drank it in one gulp before slipping off his lap and taking a few steps back. Your heart began to beat like crazy, but you gathered all your courage, ignored the lustful looks from the other guests and Kevin and started moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music.

That was also the moment when Ben finally noticed you. He sipped his whiskey, licked his lips, and watched you from his spot at the bar. He ignored the two women who were still dancing for him. His attention was solely on you. "Uhh, someone's getting really hard", the blonde moaned in his ear while her colleague stroked up and down Ben's upper arm. While your eyes were on Kevin, Ben was looking at his crotch. “Shit”, he growled, pushing both women away with a jerk.

Meanwhile, Kevin didn't hesitate anymore, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap with a strong tug before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours, which was absolutely not the plan. You should only distract the Deep long enough for Ben to put something in his drink at the bar.

When Ben saw the Deep stick his tongue down your throat, anger overwhelmed him. Within seconds, he ripped you away, pushed you onto the sofa and grabbed the Deep by the collar of his supe suit. Kevin didn't know what was going on and could hardly say a word. “Ben! What are you doing?", you shouted at him as all the other customers stormed out of the bar one by one. “This son of a bitch is fucking disgusting. A worthless piece of shit. I should rip his head off here and now”, Ben hissed.

“Ben, stick to the damn plan”, you admonished him, slowly lifting yourself up. Ben's eyes darkened with anger.

“You better listen to your little friend”, Kevin gasped, trying to save his own dear life.

"You'd better keep your damn mouth shut, fuckface". Ben let go for a split second before sticking his large hand through Kevin's supe suit into his gills, lifting him up and shushing him.

“Ben! we can't kill him! Ben… Please.” While the Deep was panting in pain, Ben finally looked at you.

"You're going to let that fucker rub his cock on you, but make a fucking scene when I kiss you?!".

In the middle of his sentence, Ben's mood changed from angry to stunned to angry again.

Very angry.

Ben's suit-covered chest began to glow and his hand relaxed, which Deep used to escape. “Shit, shit, shit!”, you gasped. “Ben, stop!”, you tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Knowing that you had absolutely no chance of getting out of here alive if you stayed, you ran towards the exit as fast as you could. You ran for your life. Seconds later you heard a loud bang and everything around you went dark.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #the deep #the boys fanart #the boys amazon #the boys tv #spn #ackles

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mykoreanlove · 5 months

Text

Say you forgive me

You laced your fingers behind his neck as you were positioning yourself on his lap.

The studio was barely lit, slow music played in the background but you barely noticed.

Your whole focus was on him - in this moment it was only you and Joon.

You shared passionate kisses, tongues fighting for dominance. His big hands were on your sides helping you steady yourself as you were circling your hips in round motions.

Namjoon was a big guy in every aspect of his being. You felt him throbbing inside of you, stretching you out in the best way possible. You could have sworn your body was made for him specifically given the fact he knew which buttons to push every single time.

You felt his large hands roam your hot body - squeezing and stroking as if it was the first time. His plush lips landed on your throat, pampering you with sweet kisses while you moaned his name silently.

„God, y/n, I missed you so much.“

He continued pampering you with kisses and only stopped when he noticed your reaction.

You were chuckling and mumbling: „Joon, you didn’t miss me for me. You missed fucking me.“

He turned cold as ice and stopped his movements. Bewilderment on his beautiful features, he looked at you hurt.

„What?“

You looked at him, punishing him with your silence.

„Do you honestly believe that? Do you think that lowly of me?“

You let out a deep breath.

Namjoon wasn’t the easiest person to be with which resulted in you taking a break. He neglected you, always putting his artistic demeanors before you. He made you feel unimportant, like a nuisance and even worse - interchangeable.

You loved him but you loved yourself more, so you broke it off.

Thankfully, he came to his senses and fought for you - finally realizing how much he had neglected you.

Everything should be good by now, shouldn’t it?

You tried hard to be happy in love, to maintain this special bond you used to share but it wasn’t working.

The resentment ate you up from the inside. You hated him for treating you like that, yet you still wanted him by your side.

„Y/N? Talk to me please. Do you really think that’s true?“

You got up from his lap and walked to the other side of the room. Suddenly, his presence was suffocating you.

You walked to the window and looked outside - snow was falling heavily and clothing the city in white. You started to shiver as it was freezing. Instinctively you started to wonder if the love you shared with him was about to freeze as well.

You felt his strong arms around you as he was hugging you from behind.

„You’re cold“, he mumbled and hugged you tighter.

His touch made you tense up which he undoubtedly noticed. „I am sorry, y/n. I didn’t realize how badly I hurt you. I didn’t realize how I made you feel.“

His voice was sincere, his words carefully chosen. You wanted to turn around and face him but he held you in place.

„Don’t. I want you to listen to me first. I wanted to be in a relationship with you, but I kept acting like I was single. And I made it all about me. I am sorry I neglected you. I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me. What you said earlier really pissed me off. But I guess I deserved that. I really want this to work - I wanna spend my life with you y/n. Do you?“

You turned around and faced him - his eyes were teary and sincere. „I really want that too“, you whispered.

Namjoon took your hands into his: „If that’s true then I need you to forgive me. I need you to let go of the past, baby.“

Could you do that though?

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urcatslitterbox · 1 year

Note

You should do a never have I ever with colby and they are home alone and get bored so they decide to drink and play it and one thing leads to another where they end up sleeping with each other and confessing their love

Never have I ever…

Colby brock x fem!reader smut

Cw: smut, daddy kink, p n v, unprotected sex (be safe!), (breeding???), let me know if I missed anything!

A/n: omg I’m so sorry this took literal years to come out. This is my first time writing something like this so I’m sorry if it sucks. Also I began writing this before sam and Katrina broke up so that’s why they are together in this.

“God I’m so bored” Colby groaned throwing himself onto the couch opposite of where I was sitting.

Sam and Katrina had gone out on a date night, leaving the house to Colby and me for the night. I was quite bored myself so I offered up a suggestion. “We could play a game?” he thought for a moment he decided it was a good idea. “Alright, like what?” he asked, “anything that involves drinking, I've had a looong week” I joked. Colby got off the couch heading into the kitchen, there was a rattling before he returned to the living room. In his hands were two wine glasses and a bottle of red. He sat on the rug of the living room and patted the floor telling me to join him. I sat down, still opposite him and he handed me a glass. “Do you have a game or are we just going to drink on the floor?” I teased. Colby smiled, filling my glass. “We're gonna play never have I ever, but instead of putting down a finger we take a drink” he said. “Ok, I'll start,” I said, thinking of what to say. “Ok never have I ever snuck out,” I said. Colby’s eyes widened slightly, “what!? You're kidding, you've never snuck out?” he asked in disbelief. I smiled knowing he would have to drink, “nope, I was a good kid” I stated. “Come on now drink up brock” I smirked, he rolled his eyes before taking a sip of his wine. “Ok, my turn, never have I ever..” he trailed off thinking of how he could get me to drink. “Called my friend to fake an emergency so I could get out of a bad date” he said with a cocky look on his face. “That's not fair you're targeting me!” Colby just laughed, signalling me to take a drink.

As the night went on Colby and I got progressively tipsier. “Ok ok I have one, never have I ever worn handcuffs for any reason” I grinned knowing for a fact that Colby has been in handcuffs, perhaps more than once. He narrowed his eyes at me before finishing off what was left in his glass. As he poured himself more he went his turn. “Since we’re playing that game, never have I ever given a lap dance” he said calmly. I felt my face flush as I took a sip from my glass. Colby’s eyebrows raised for a moment before dropping. “Never have I ever done it in a pool” I said, understanding what this had turned into. He drank from his glass before leaning closer to me. “ I find that hard to believe y/n/n” he said quietly. I returned the gesture, leaning in as well, not wanting to seem intimidated by our close proximity. “Just because you can't keep it in your pants and have to have sex everywhere doesn't mean everyone else does too” I teased. Colby scoffed, “ok, never have I ever masturbated when people are home” he said. I felt my face get hot, I didn't think anyone was home when I did, but I was wrong. “Well, never have I ever listened in on someone you creep” I fought. He just smirked, “it's hard not to when you make those pretty sounds” he whispered, staring into my eyes. My cheeks were on fire at this point, I looked away to avoid his intense gaze. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss you so badly..” I heard him say. I looked back at him our faces mere centimetres apart. I leaned closer closing the gap between us in a soft kiss. Colby held my head in place as he deepened the once-soft kiss turning it into something hotter.

We made out sloppily, the wine and game long forgotten. Colby began to lean me back onto the rug, moving his lips to my neck. He sucked deep bruises from my neck to my collar before kissing back up to my ear. My breath got deeper as my heart raced. Truth be told I've liked Colby for some time now and the fact that he was on top of me made my core heat up. I let out soft whimpers as I tugged on his shirt wanting it off. He pulled away ripping his shirt off of him before heading towards mine. He looked to confirm that I was ok with this, I nodded wanting to feel him already. He practically tore it off of me then my pants followed, adding to the mess of clothes in the room. Colby sat back admiring me. I began to feel self conscious and tried to hide my body. “Don’t hide yourself from me, you’re so beautiful”, he whispered as he grabbed my arms that were shielding my body. He kissed me passionately and his lips trailed down to my breast. He pulled my nipple into his mouth sucking harshly. I moaned at the feeling as he did the same to the other one. “God baby I’m so hard for you..I need to be inside you, I can’t wait any longer.” He groaned lining the head of his cock up with entrance. He pushed in slowly allowing me to adjust to his length. I hissed at the stretch as he bottomed out. “Fuuuck” he breathed into my ear. “Colby.. please..” I whined. “What baby? Use your words” he teased. “Please fuck me” I said looking into his eyes. Somehow his eyes got even darker at my words before he spoke. “Don’t have to ask me twice princess” he growled before thrusting hard into me. I moaned loudly as he rocked his hips into mine aggressively. I clawed at his muscular back as I started to loose grip on reality. He was so big and deep I could barely take it. “Oh god Colby yes!” I moaned as he pounded into me even harder. “Fuck yeah take it baby…god you’re so tight gonna make me cum” he groaned. “Want daddy to cum inside your pretty pussy? Make you mine?” He growled, speeding up. I moaned in response, my walls clenching around him as I grew closer to cumming. “Yes daddy please! G- gonna cum daddy so close!” I panted. “Me too baby it’s alright, let go cum on daddy cock” he grunted burying his face in my neck. I all but screamed his name as I came undone around his cock. He thrusted a few more times before I felt his warm cum fill me. He pulled out and held me close to him, both of us panting as we came down from our highs.

I closed my eyes as we laid there cuddled together on the carpet. “Y/n” he breathed into my neck. “Mhm” I mumbled, too tired to form a coherent sentence. “I I really like you. I have for a long time now” he confessed. At that my eyes snapped open. “Colby-“ I tried but he interrupted me. “I know you probably don’t feel the same and this was a one time thing bu-“ I cut him off smashing my lips onto his, kissing him with everything I had. All the pent up feelings I had towards him pouring out through the kiss. When we pulled away he looked at me confused , his lips red and swollen. “Colby, I like you too moron” I giggled. His expression went from confused to sheer love in a matter of seconds. “Good because now that I’ve had a taste I’m not letting you go” he promised, kissing me again.

#4ppl3ju1c #colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #x reader #sam and colby #sam golbach x reader

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tan1shere · 7 months

Text

Slumber Party pt 3

A/n: hey everyone, sorry this has taken awhile I wanted to make it extra special for you all. Hope it was worth the wait, my requests are open for any other stories you may want! (Please I'm begging 😭) possibly the last part! Not too sure yet but regardless. Enjoy !

Masterlist

Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend.

Warnings: Dom Ellie, she's kinda soft but not really- smoking, high Ellie (just a lil bit) protective Ellie

Its not like you were sneaking around when Isabel got back. Because Ellie had told you, she texted Isabel. At first you were really worried, scared even. But that feeling soon left, you started to not give a fuck. Your feelings for Ellie much too strong to worry about Isabel, any longer. And you indeed took up Ellies offer. But like most things in your life. It came with a price.

You were deciding to pack when Isabel was at work. You didn't have too much stuff of your own, most of it was hers. So it was easily hidden when she got back home. You had no idea how to approach even telling her that you were leaving. Should you just go? Spare the broken bones and possible tears? You say you don't give a fuck, but you know with how you are that's a lie. You feel too much, your feelings can be way too overpowering. So you landed on leaving without any notice.

Since she broke your phone, there was no way of contacting. She didn't know where Ellie lived so she couldn't search out to find you. You'd leave tomorrow... Or maybe the next day. You sigh sitting on the bed. You couldn't tell what was holding you back so much. Was it fear? Was it comfort? You shake your head. That couldn't be it, you hated this place. Regardless of when you'd probably do it during the day when she's at work. You did however have a backup phone that she didn't know about. You wanted to keep in contact with Ellie. That night you two had was one you couldn't ever forget. It made you more needier for her. You wanted her forever. Suddenly you hear your phone go off on the secret phone.

This made your brain go even more fuzzy. The fact you had just been thinking about her.. the fact she's high right now. You so wanted to be around her when she was like that. You think about it more. How her beautiful eyes would be droopy, and a lil red. You think back to her in the white wife beater and you feel yourself clench your thighs together. You can't get distracted. Oh but how you needed her so badly.

The day has come. You had finally finished packing. Isabel was at work so this was the perfect time to leave.. So you thought. As you were carrying your duffle bag to the front door. Your met with those same eyes. The same terrifying ones you hate. You widen your eyes and gulp. Frozen to the floor. You stand there unable to process why the hell she's home already. She looks at you starting to look furious. You don't get why, if she hates you so much why can't she just let you go. But that's the thing. She hated you, she wanted you so she could ruin your life. Ruin your happiness. You then regain composure, going to sternly push past her. She grabs your arm firmly.

"Now where the fuck. Do you think you're leaving to." You glare at her, for the first time, letting your anger overtake the sadness. "None of your business." You spat. Still giving her the same look. "You're off to hers aren't you." You don't say anything. You honestly don't know how to respond. But you're cut short with the conversation when Ellie pulls up. You and Isabel both look outside, seeing her car pull to a stop. You try and get out of Isabels tight hold, knowing you're safe now as she can't lay even a finger on you, having Ellie as a witness. Although if you're being truthful, you don't think Isabel would give a shit.

Ellie gets out coming over to you guys. Thankfully Ellie was taller then the both of you, making it more intimidating. Isabel was hesitant to let you go, but she nonetheless does. You go impossibly closer to Ellie. Wondering just how this was going to play out. "Dont think about trying to follow us. Nor contacting her. I've been easy on you for her sake but I will quite literally kill you if you come anywhere near her, ever. Again." Isabel let's out a huff, going back inside and slamming the door. It's over.... You're free.

"You can put the rest in my roo-" Ellie begins to speak but you cut her off, grabbing her shirt and kissing her. "I need you." You say slightly out of breath. She was bewildered at first, but regardless, she picks you up, taking you to her room and gently putting you down on the bed. She begins to strip you of your clothes, just as eager. "I've been waiting all day, just so I can have you." She spoke softly, yet a slight roughness was added to her tone. Shes driving you crazy. "Fuck I needed this all day yesterday. Was even touching myself thinking about you." That sent you over the borderline of crazy. That sent you ballistic. The thought of Ellie high. Touching herself to the thought of you. You could've just came from the thought.

You just can't believe that you're here with her. In these circumstances. Your childhood best friend. Your secret little crush from way back. "I want you to take me Ellie. Make me yours. Forever." You blurt out. Ellie then wasted no time coming down to your thighs, gripping them tight. Which made you to clench them at the feeling of her soft hands. Causing her to feel your sopping wet underwear. Making her groan with anticipation. She rips them open wasting absolutely no time at all. "Promise to buy you another pair. Fuck.. I'll buy you a whole set." She leans down but before she does anything. She pauses. You whine. "Ellie please. I want your tongue so badly.." You let out a breath as you can feel hers, warm and amazing, fanning over your cunt.

"That's a want princess. Not a need. I don't think you truly need this. Or do you angel." She was teasing, and it was tearing you up inside. "I need it. Need your amazing tongue to fuck into me. Need it desperately Els I crave it." She rolls her eyes back, leaning down immediately. Eating you. Devouring you. This felt like another universe of ecstasy. It felt so unreal. But it was very real. Her pumping her amazing tongue in and out of you. At a relentless pace. "Fuck.. you taste so good I could eat you for breakfast lunch and dinner." She purrs against you, never stopping even when she spoke.

"Th-that can be arranged." You pant like a dog who needs water. Arching your back at this euphoric feeling. Sending you into overdrive. She gently moves her hand up to your breasts. Squeezing with ease. You let out a sharp moan, letting your head rest back into the pillows. "Come on angel. Wanna taste your sweetness. Squirt in my mouth baby." Feeling the tightness in your lower stomach again, you do just that. Making it shoot down the back of her throat. She swallows it with pure pleasure. She was so incredibly pussy drunk, it was insane. You were just the same, feeling fucked out and only from her tongue. What couldn't this woman do.

But you were pulled out of your thoughts when you suddenly heard a belt buckle, and it being thrown onto the floor. You blinked a few times to regain your consciousness. But that was soon gone again as she fucks into you. Hard, and fast. You let out a gasp, it slowly turning into a moan. One only heard by porn stars. You grip the sheets, tightly. Feeling her relentlessly fuck into you. It was truly heaven. To think you could've been with her this whole time. She actually cares for you. Wants you. She.. wants, you. You still couldn't believe it. She grips your hips tightly as she speeds up a bit more, making you scream out her name.

"She would, never. Fuck you, like I do. She'd never know your body. Like I do. She'd never be able to make you cum in under 5 minutes. Like. I. Do." You bite your lip. Holding back the most craziest of sounds. "Did she ever make you feel this way angel? Ever?" You arch your back yet again, wanting more. If that was even possible. You let out little whimpers. "Fuck you make me so crazy. You're so fucking precious. Like a real life angel. Gunna protect you from now on. No one. Will. Ever. Hurt you." She leans down to the skin of your neck going to suck, hard. You let out breaths as both the feeling of her mouth and strap. She hums against your skin.

"You. Are. Mine." She keeps marking your skin. Worshipping you. She's so madly inlove with you she can't think straight. "Come on baby.. want you to cum.. desperate for it. Want you to milk it. Show that I'm yours too. No one else gets this strap but you angel. Claim it." And you fucking claimed it alright. Cumming with so much pleasure running through your body. It was indescribable. Just how intense it was. She even came a bit, watching her girl unravel under her control. Makes her wild. You let out breaths, feeling sweaty, and tired.

She pulls out, taking it off and setting it aside. "Mine now?" You breathe out. "Yours now angel. All yours." She kisses your temple and lays with you. Bringing you close. And for the first time in what felt like forever. You felt safe.. content. You felt at home, in the arms of your future wife.

A/n: I'm so sorry if this is awful lovelies :( I had to restart cuz I accidentally got rid of some of my best work. So it's not the best. I hope you guys enjoy it tho! Much love <3

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams the last of us smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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always-andromeda · 10 months

Text

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ✯ 3268

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ✯ I’ve loved this man literally since I was thirteen…so it’s inevitable that I’d be writing something absolutely fucking filthy for him in my twenties…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ✯ smut (minors, do not interact), gaps in age and power, mutual masturbation, little bit of panty sniffing, a singular use of Y/N (I'm sorry, I hate it too but it was necessary), usage of pet names (sweetheart), general manipulation, slight praise kink, obvious disclaimer: the dynamic in this fic is just that, fictional, and should not be practiced in real life!! let me know if any other warnings are needed!!

(mdni banner template credit goes to @cafekitsune!!)

You’d rarely had luck receiving any sort of grace from your professors. Sure, there were a select few that only wanted to see you succeed. However, more often than not you seemed to encounter sadists who decided to take their kinks out on exhausted college students. But you were convinced that Professor Winchester wouldn’t be like that.

For starters, he’d always been challenging but never malicious. Despite the fact that you’d registered for his Norse Mythology course with the assumption that it would be easy college credits, you quickly learned that his assignments were difficult. Every week there seemed to be about a hundred pages worth of reading, frequent essays, and an emphasis on class discussion.

Oh, did he love those class discussions. While most were less than enthusiastic to contribute to lengthy examinations of Eddic poetry at eight in the morning, Professor Winchester seemed to be none the wiser of this.

He was always squinting over his thin wire framed glasses, surveying the class. He’d stand at his desk, brushing his long hair behind his ear while looking over papers. When he’d listen he’d purse his lips and tilt his head, expression rife with genuine interest. In all of these moments, he was the most gorgeous. But more than that, you were fascinated with his mind.

Professor Winchester knew this material like the back of his hand; was able to pull references and quotes from various pieces of literature at the drop of a hat. He was the only professor who could ever give notes that were actually helpful on essays and he’d always been generous with handing out extra credit assignments. Which is what you aimed to obtain on this visit to his office.

You looked through the glass of his office door and saw him inside, working diligently at a dark oak wood desk. Taking a deep breath, you turned the doorknob and entered.

The hinges squeezed but Winchester seemed so fixated on whatever was before him that he only raised a finger, indicating for you to wait. So you did. Awkwardly. You rocked slightly on your heels, your stomach starting to twist in time with the movement. God, he looked like a dream lit by the stained glass banker's lamp as he graded papers.

In another world you could see him coming home from a long day, his body warm behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Smelling like black coffee and pencil shavings, you'd adoringly close your eyes, taking in his scent and ask him how his day went. He'd hum in contentment when resting his chin on your head; you're his rock, his soulmate, the reason he stays sane despite dealing with probably hundreds of students and the frustrating dance of academic bureaucracy.

It's a fantasy that broke the second Winchester glanced up and said with a hint of surprise, "Miss L/N! Come in, have a seat," he nodded towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

Relieved that he can pick you out among the sea of students from his classroom, you move forward until you reach the chair. You set your bag down on the floor and settle into the worn leather of the seat as Winchester eyes you expectantly.

"What can I do for you this afternoon?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "Actually, I was hoping that you could help me out with something."

"Oh, what might that be?" he furrowed his brow.

"Um..." you started. "I'm sure you noticed that I didn't do too hot on the last exam."

"Ah, I did," he said simply.

"You did?"

"Yeah, I was surprised, actually." Winchester opened up one of his desk drawers and sorted through some files before pulling out a packet you recognized as the exam you'd taken the week before. "You seem so engaged in class discussion and you've been doing well on everything else. This...this felt rushed. What happened?"

The soft expression of concern on his face only increased your shame. In all honesty, you'd wasted half the exam time away staring at him. He'd worn a red sweater over a cream colored button up that day. Then he'd rolled up the sleeves before handing out the exam papers. It felt stupid to admit that you'd been distracted by his goddamn forearms.

But you had been. You couldn't resist watching him as he'd circled the room, keeping an eye out for cheating. With his arms folded behind his back, you got the best look at the back of him. His long legs clad in khaki. Strong, tanned forearms corded with prominent veins. Shoulder blades pushed back confidently as he walked. Everything about his solid stature had your mind far, far away.

You'd been good at making sure your daydreams wouldn't get the better of you. But this time, before you knew it, Winchester was glancing down at his watch and announcing that you had fifteen minutes left for exam time. You had no choice but to rush through the rest of it, writing down answers that hardly even made sense just to fill in blanks.

Now those answers laid before you, condemning you to a low D– that dragged down your entire grade.

"I honestly couldn't tell you, Professor. I thought I studied enough but I guess not."

Though you'd attempted to laugh off his concern, Winchester obviously wasn't budging. "But these are rookie mistakes. Number fifteen for example. Where do the gods live?"

"Easy. Asgard."

"Right, but here you marked down the answer for Valhalla," he slid the paper around so you could look at the question.

Sure enough, there it was, your frantic pencil marks filling in the bubble for the incorrect answer. Damn.

"And that's just on the multiple choice questions," Winchester continued, flipping through the pages. "You barely followed any of the directions for the long answer questions. Your response to the short essay portion was a paragraph too short. And it was too unfocused."

Unfocused is right, Professor Winchester.

"I hate to say it...but I was a little disappointed."

The sting of tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. So you cleared your throat and blinked them back quickly. Voice trembling, you answered quickly, "I'm sorry, Professor. I wasn't on my game and I thought I'd pay you a visit so I could plead my case. I'm willing to do any kind of extra credit assignment. I don't care how much work it is. I'll do anything to fix my grade because I really want to do well in your class and–"

Winchester raised a hand, urging you to stop. Then he spoke, "Listen, I can see how badly you want this. So I'm going to make sure you get it. Just...let me think."

With that, Winchester rose from his seat and began to gather the papers that littered the surface of his desk. He stacked them neatly before opening a different drawer and laying them inside. After he closed the drawer, he made his way around the desk. You tried not to look at him as he made his way around the room, especially not when you felt his hand brush against the back of your chair. But you couldn't not notice when he drew the shade on his door's window and closed the blinds to his window, leaving the room dim save for the yellow light of his desk lamp.

Once he'd made his round, he returned to his chair and rolled back, leaving a massive gap between himself and the edge of his desk.

Then he did something else you didn't expect.

He patted the wood and said, "Come. Sit on my desk. Let me look at you."

You almost wavered on the direction when he cleared his throat expectantly. That brought you to your feet and compelled you to settle waveringly before him.

With his lips in a tight line, Winchester studied you. He tilted his head every few seconds, letting his eye flicker from your uncertain expression to your body. You sat up a little straighter in an attempt to satisfy his observation of you.

You weren't quite sure what he was doing, but it made you nervous; made you vulnerable in a way you weren't used to.

"I may have one extra credit opportunity that I can offer. Special. Just for you."

"Yeah? What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you can start by spreading your legs."

Your eyes went wide. "Professor Winchester, you're not–"

He cut you off quickly, "First, after office hours, you may call me Sam. Second, I'm not going to touch you. I'm simply asking you to give me a– a presentation," he decided.

"What kind of presentation?" you asked.

Your feigned innocence made the man chuckle softly. "The kind of presentation I'm sure you give in your dormitory bedroom every night."

There wasn't an ounce of jesting on his face, but still you played dumb. "I have no idea what you're referring to, Sam." His name felt foreign yet familiar on your tongue. Probably because you'd whispered it many times before in the exact scenario he'd described.

"I'd hoped you'd tell me the truth about why you were so distracted during your exam. But since you haven't been forthcoming, I guess I have to spell it out for you, haven't I?"

You swallowed hard and blinked nervously.

"You thought I wouldn't notice, did you?" he chuckles again. "It's hard not to notice when one of your students, especially one so beautiful, is practically drooling all over their table."

The scraps of flattery were evidently working on you as Sam smiled when you fiddled with your fingers in your lap as your skin got all warm and tingly. So he kept going.

"Besides, you're too intelligent to do this terribly on something you should've aced. Maybe you wanted to fail it. You wanted to get my attention, didn't you?"

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to waste your time, I was just–"

"You weren't wasting my time. Wasting your time is continuing this pointless back and forth when you could instead be proving yourself."

"Proving myself?"

"Yes. Spread those legs...and earn your grade," he ordered.

Breathing in and out slowly, you did what you were asked. The knots in your stomach told you this was wrong. But the smile of approval that slowly grew on Sam's lips said that this was exactly what you both needed.

You'd never been more embarrassed to be wearing a skirt. One the fabric pooled around your hips, it only framed the damp patch on your underwear. Perhaps part of you had wanted something like this to happen. Because your pussy was already pulsing after simply being observed behind the cotton curtain that soaked up her anticipation.

"Very good," Sam breathed out.

"What do I do now?" you asked.

"Just...play with her. Show me what you like to do to make her happy."

You nodded, then pursed your lips as you thought. If you were going to present to him...you might as well go all out. So you shifted each of your thighs around, pulling down your underwear until your bare ass was planted on the desk and the garment was caught on one of your ankles. You lifted your left and held it out gently, the panty hanging in the air a little below Sam's face.

"Take them," you said. "Visual aid."

He smirked lazily at the offering before pulling them over your shoe, being careful not to actually touch you. Sam balled them up before bringing them to his nose and slowly breathing in the scent. You could tell he enjoyed it thoroughly as he let out a deep sigh from within his chest.

"With how wet these are...it's good to know you were prepared even for a surprise presentation. I knew there was a reason you're my favorite."

His words went straight to your cunt as a few drops of slick leaked from your hole and landed on the dark wood beneath you.

"Go on," Sam urged, gaze flickering to the drops of you on his desk. "She's waiting. And so am I."

You began to treat yourself with the same level of care as you did when you were alone. One of your hands reached up your shirt and you cupped one of your tits. You kneaded the flesh for a few seconds before focusing on the nipple, pinching it until it pebbled and poked through your shirt. The action made your breathing turn ragged.

You finally let your other hand travel south, bringing warmth to the soft skin of your thighs. Wanting better access to yourself, you pulled your leg up, resting a foot on the desk itself. Then you reclined back and let your fingers roam where they wanted.

Using two fingers, you spread your outer lips, only exposing yourself to Sam’s scrutiny even further. The cool air hitting your most vulnerable part, you shivered as goosebumps erupted across your skin. You looked up at him, gauging his approval of your performance.

“You’re doing so well already, keep going,” he encouraged, hardly concealing the arousal that clung thickly to his tone.

You took the praise with pride. It emboldened you enough to slip your two fingers between your folds to gather up some of the slick. You couldn’t help but feel mortified as you involuntarily gasped when your digits brushed slightly against your clit.

Sam let a quick puff of air out his nose. “Sensitive?”

“Mhmmm,” you whined.

“Bet you can’t even touch that pretty clit directly without crying, huh?”

You nodded.

“Then be gentle. I want you to last for me.”

You took that to mean that he didn’t want you touching yourself there yet. So instead you switched to focusing on your entrance. It wasn’t often that you went straight for penetration. Rarely did it bring the kind of relief you craved.

But you had the feeling that Sam would want to see it; to see your fingers filling yourself up and stretching you out.

With your fingers practically pruning already, you pushed one in ever so slowly. It took a second to adjust to the slight pressure, but still you began to carefully pump. The slick squelch only intensified when you slipped another one in and sped up your movements.

Though the pressure increased and built up tension in your belly, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go anywhere. You bucked your hips pathetically against your own hand, trying to get deep enough to hit your g-spot. But no matter how far you tried to probe, it was useless. Your fingers simply weren’t long enough.

Your eyes went wind, catching sight of something that most likely could reach that spot inside you. While you’d been fucking yourself, your professor had undone the button and the zipper on his pants and slipped himself out. There he sat, your panties in his hand and wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The angry red tip poked up and out of the fabric with each slow thrust. And you could already tell based on how long his strokes were that you’d most likely be able to feel him poking against your belly from inside you. The idea made you moan and throw your head back.

Sam swiftly reprimanded you, “Ah, remember your eye contact. I want you to look at me.”

Shame spread over your body. What the fuck was going on? Were you really fingering yourself on his desk right next to papers that he was surely going to return to students? Was Sam really fisting his own cock with your underwear? And were you actually enjoying this?

“Sweetheart,” Sam’s self control faltered slightly with the name. But it grabbed your attention nonetheless. “I need you to look at me. Let me look into your eyes when you make yourself come on my desk, alright?”

This was about more than fixing your grade. This was about pleasing him…by pleasing yourself. And as you returned his look, you were all in.

Under his watchful, half lidded, hazel eye you allowed yourself to focus on your aching clit which laid in wait like a pearl beneath the hood of skin covering it. Carefully, you pulled that hood back before lightly spreading some of your slick with a finger. You let the skin settle back in place over the sensitive nub before going straight to work.

You began to rub slow circles on the hood and finally properly moaned. It took only a few seconds for the muscle memory of your nightly ritual to kick in as the pleasure started to mount. Finally, all of that pressure in your core had some actual weight to it; a weight that was already beginning to roll in shallow waves over your whole being.

"There you go, sweetheart. Let me hear you loud and clear. Don't wanna miss a single sound from you," Sam groaned and you caught how the grip he had on himself tightened, how his pace quickened.

While rolling your hips against your hand, you pulled up a side of your shirt, exposing even more of yourself to him. Now he could easily see one of your tits rise and fall with your staggered breaths. He could see how the ball of fat dimpled under your fingertips as you squeezed and pulled at your hardened nipple.

Both sources of simulation had you whimpering breathlessly, "Sam, I-I'm so close– Let me come, please?"

Sam glared and asked through gritted teeth, "That's not my name. What do you call me in class?"

"Professor?"

Sam nodded darkly.

You took the cue quickly and begged helplessly, "Please, professor, please let me come–" you were cut off by the sound of your pleasure starting to push you over the edge.

Sam left you teetering, staring right over the border of this boundary. That boundary being an ethical nightmare that you had no clue how you'd navigate. But you wanted to be good for him; you craved his approval.

And thankfully, Sam gave it as he groaned, "There you go, good girl. You can come, you've got permission."

With that, you arched off the desk and burst with glorious clarity. A thin stream of your arousal drooled from your entrance as you rubbed yourself through the enormous implosions and the small aftershocks that followed. Your head was heavy with the fog of pleasure and you wanted to hang it back, give it a break.

But still, you were determined to keep your eyes on him, even as you pulled your fingers away from your trembling cunt and stuck them in your mouth. Your tongue swirled around the wrinkled digits, soaking up every bit of yourself that you could.

Any sort of professionalism Sam had been trying to maintain up until that point shattered completely when he rolled his chair forwards. Closer to you now, you looked down into his soft eyes and watched how his normally objective stare went personal; emotional. He looked at you with the kind of admiration that made your heart flutter with pride.

He took his hand, placed it on your knee, and spread your legs further. His touch was so light, so soft that you could help feeling electricity dance along your spine.

"I thought you said you wouldn't touch me?" you whispered, only a hint of a smug smile tugging at your lips.

Choosing his words as carefully as ever, he explained, "That was before I decided that you needed some of my...guidance."

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown #supernatural #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fic

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the-fiction-witch · 7 months

Text

Just For A Moment

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Smutty FLirty!

I finished washing my hands before deciding on my next task for the day. I checked the time and it was indeed ten. I immediately got excited As I had been looking forward to it all day. I wandered through the hospital not drawing any attention to myself as usual until I found Dr Dawkins in the ward having just finished his last patient.

“Dr Dawkins, do you mind if I borrow you just for a moment?” I asked

He looked up at me for a moment. His wicked smile broke though but he quickly hid it “Yes I don't see why not. Do excuse me.” He said to the patient before we walked out of the ward without a word to each other.

Immediately I felt giddy and excited as we walked the well-trod path from the ward to the storage cupboard he opened the door and politely allowed me to go first like a proper gentleman and I scurried inside down to the stock shelves as he shut the door behind us quickly closing the gap between us.

He didn't waste time his hands pushed my hips against the wooden shelves and his lips met mine, I quickly kissed him back enjoying the softness of his lips, the gentle metallic taste and smell he had given his time covered in blood most days, I enjoyed every heavenly second of his lips on my own as our lips moved there clacking sound all that echoed in the storeroom other then our desperate breaths, my hands found their way into his hair twisting my fingers in his blonde locks as I pulled him desperately close wanting to feel his every inch, his every way, he didn't deny me in fact bringing himself even closer as our kisses got not only more passionately but more sloppy and haphazardly as neither of us tried to kiss sweetly or beautifully our kisses only a vehicle for our rampant desire this becoming far messier. I began tugging and pulling on his hair, our bodies bumping one another as we both tried so desperately to be closer our heads moving up and down as we desperately kissed one another, our own mouth kisses causing us to battle one another for control and as much as he wanted it I wasn't going to simply give in and let him have it the little groans and gasps he made fueled me more as his hands exploded my dress without hesitation or restriction as one point he clearly forgot where we were as he tried to pull me up as if sitting me on something but of course I had nothing to sit on so the lift only served to rub out bodies together I slipped my hands from his hair stroking the smooth skin of his neck and moving my hands down grasping at his shirt before going back up to his hair pulling him away a little

“Uhh Jack” I gasped trying to stay quiet even I wanted to moan and scream his name loud enough for the whole port to hear as for a moment our lips were separated and I uncontrollably moaned for him

“Ummm don't toy with me y/n” he grunts holding the side of my face as he pulls me into another kiss but I pull back letting us both breathe for a moment or so

“We can't - we must get back”

“We must. Yes.” he nodded frustration building on his face as it was clear just how badly he wanted to continue but we both knew we couldn't be too long or risk Discovery “ummm” he groaned with a nod fighting his frustration and gnawing at his lip his eyes unable to move from my lips “just for a moment more?” he pleaded

“Just for a moment” I answered pulling him back and he happily returned our kiss to the same passion and energy it was before we pulled away, he moved even closer one hand desperately stroking my neck and face often straying into my hair the other on my hip and waist running himself over my hips in utter desperation often clawing at my dress with his nails like an angry cat even causing threads on the fabric to rip causing a sound from his utter longing to remove the dress that stood between him and my body,

“Uummmmm y/n!” He moaned against my lips

“We have to stop Jack” I whispered twisting my fingers in his hair as he kissed my face and jaw trying to get at my lips but I wouldn't let him so he kissed anywhere he could get close to

“You can't do this to me y/n” he pleads pushing his body against me so much that even through the many layers and skirts of my dress I could feel why he didn't want to stop

“Ooohh Jack” I giggled gasping slightly from the feeling of it against me

“I need you.” He whispered stroking the top of his nose against mine “You can't just leave me like this.”

“Can't I?” I giggled kissing his neck and pushing back his shirt to kiss his chest

“Uhhh! Y/n please - please” he gasped pulling me lips back to his forcefully his hands moved into my back starting to unlace my dress but I stopped his hands forcing them away from my dress ties “uhhh… you cruel girl.” He groans

“I'm not the cruel one” I giggled innocently

“Yes, you are. Need I remind you who tied my hands to my bed and tortured me for hours on Tuesday night” he whispered in my ear in his best bedroom voice

“I let you out” I giggled playfully stroking down his chest with my fingers

“Only when I screamed for you.’ he groans “that what I have to do then? That's always what I have to do. Will you let me kiss you more if I scream?”

“I don't know, it couldn't hurt” I cooed

“Ummm I love you. I love you. I love you. I over you” he moaned kissing my hips and saying it over and over between his kisses “Now stop being cruel and let me-” He groaned

“We can't Jack” I giggled “You have to get back to work”

“Ummmmmmm!” He groans in frustration his hips slightly bucking which caused him to almost bounce like a child having a tantrum

“We can't.” I told him “And I'm not the cruel one here.”

‘yes, you are.”

“you wanna talk about cruel? Who forced me to orgasm in the prep room?”

“Ummm I did” he blushed with a wicked smile

“Who spanked me so much, I couldn't sit down for three days?”

“I did” he smirked proud of himself

“who edged me for two weeks?”

“Ummm I did y/n” he growled kissing my face again

“You're a cruel merciless man Jack”

“Humm it's why you love me” he growled pulling me back to his kisses but I pulled back

‘get back to work. And I'll see you tonight”

“I can't wait that long”

“This afternoon then?’

“I'll come find you at two.” He smirked

“Six”

‘four”

“Deal” I smiled giving him one more kiss before we pulled apart for our breath back and adjusted our clothes given we had been so grabby at each other before finally we left the storeroom returning to our work.

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #the artful dodger #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger

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demonsandmischief · 7 months

Text

Disconnect

A Bucky Barnes Imagine

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

1.2K Words Angst and Fluff

-Disconnect-

You and Bucky seem to be living very separate lives, and finding time for each other has become more difficult.

---

You glanced at your phone, surprised to see an incoming call from your boyfriend, Bucky. It wasn't often that he called. It was usually you who called him.

"Hey, baby," his smooth voice greeted. It was familiar and warm, and made your heart thud painfully in your chest. You missed him so much.

You pushed yourself upright from where you were lying down on the couch in your apartment. You gripped your favorite blanket between your fingers, finding comfort in the soft fabric.

"Hi," you said back. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he said. "What time is it there? I always lose track. I didn't want to call too late."

"It is late," you confirmed, pulling your phone away from your ear. You squinted at the bright display, finding it to be just after eleven. "Where are you at?"

"I'm working out in California right now," he answered. "I just got back in from Germany."

"Germany?" You had no idea that he was even out of the country. You felt the pressure of tears behind your eyes that you tried to keep at bay. You were exhausted of this.

You had met Bucky by accident when he was working with Sam Wilson in Washington, D.C. You had instantly clicked. At the time, it was really good because he was doing work there that had lasted several months.

But then he started traveling again. You both had promised to make the effort to keep your relationship going, but lately all of it felt so one-sided. You didn't know him anymore, and you felt like you were hanging on to something that no longer existed.

It was quiet on the phone. You struggled with what to say next.

"I can't keep going like this, Buck," you said softly. You couldn't keep the tears back any longer, letting them stream down your cheeks. Your chest ached, and you pulled the phone away from your ear so you could muffle your sob with the blanket. "Do you even love me anymore?"

Bucky said your name firmly, like he was scolding you for even doubting his feelings for you.

"I'm sorry that it's been like this," he said. "But I can't -"

"You can't or you won't?" you asked, drying your damp face with the palm of your hand. You sniffled.

"I just wished that I was important enough to you," you added in a whisper. You wondered if he even heard that part. "You travel to all of these places, and you can't travel here to see me. I've even offered to come to you."

"It's for my job," Bucky said. "And you know it's dangerous. I would never put you at risk because of me."

You nodded even though he couldn't see you. You had talked about this before, and his answer was still the same.

He could've made the effort, though. He could have flown to Germany out of DC so you could see him, even if it was only for a brief moment.

"Fine," you agreed. You realized he had never answered your question. Did he even love you anymore? Maybe he didn't.

The fact that he hadn't reassured you caused a deep, painful ache in your chest so profound that you found yourself struggling to take in a deep enough breath.

"Fine?" he repeated, sounding surprised that you had even agreed with him after all of that.

"Of course it's not fine, Bucky," you sighed. "but I do respect the fact that you don't want to see me, or talk to me, or even love me anymore. It was bound to happen with all of this distance between us."

You continued, saying the part that you dreaded the most. "I don't think we should keep going like this. We can't. I can't."

You disconnected the call, tossing your phone somewhere on the couch. You buried your head in your hands, letting out all of the pain and sadness you had been holding in.

You didn't expect this to hurt so badly. You were the one who broke up with him, but that didn't mean you didn't love him. You loved him deeply.

You ended up crying yourself to sleep on your couch.

---

The sun starting to peek through your blinds woke you up. It was really early - just about six thirty. You yawned, feeling the stickiness of your face. You hated the feeling, the reminder.

You folded your blanket, walking towards your bedroom. It was Saturday, so you didn't have anywhere to be, but you were stiff from sleeping on your couch all night.

You managed to wash your face, pulling the blankets back on your neatly made bed so you could crawl in and sleep a bit more.

You heard your front door opening, which startled you. The only other person who had a key was Bucky, and he was all the way across the country.

You shuffled hesitantly out of your room and towards the noise, surprised to see that it was, in fact, Bucky.

"Do I still love you?" he asked, repeating the question that you had asked him on the phone. He dropped his bag, heading straight for you and you froze. "What the hell do you mean?"

His sassy, rhetorical question almost made you laugh, despite everything.

He cupped your cheeks, firmly planting his lips on yours, and it felt so good, so familiar. You gripped his jacket for support as he didn't let up.

"Buck," you murmured despite his persistent kisses. "What are you doing here? You said you were in California."

"I caught a flight," he said, running his thumb along your cheek. "I love you with everything in me, baby. If you were missing me, you just had to say the word, and I would be here in an instant."

He gave you another peck, his lips following a path down your cheek to your neck.

"I can't read your mind. I'm not very good at this. I told you that, remember?" His warm drawl settled over you, comforting you. You stepped forward to press against his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his back.

"Maybe I was distancing myself," he admitted. "Every time I talked to you, it reminded me of how desperately I wanted to come home."

"Me too," you whispered.

"But I can fix it," he promised. "I will fix it. I'll make sure I leave time to come here between my jobs, and I will keep you in the loop about where I'm going to be from now on."

You nodded. You believed him because you wanted this to work.

"I'm just sorry that I didn't do any of this before," he added, this time much softer. He ran his hand firmly down your back, soothing all of the ache you had been feeling.

"I could have told you how I was feeling sooner, rather than just accusing," you said.

He cupped your cheeks again.

"You're not taking the blame for this one, pretty girl," he cooed. "This one's on me."

"Can you stay?" you asked, leaning up for a kiss. "You must be exhausted."

He nodded. "I have a few days. We have a lot of making up to do, baby."

He lifted you up effortlessly and you giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You were happy that he was home, and you could see things actually getting better.

--------- Author's Note-------------------

Hi friends 😎 long time no see!

I was in the mood for some angst. If you like this, check out my Masterlist.

-> I make TikTok edits almost daily.

-> I publish short stories with guaranteed Happy Endings on Wattpad.

Join my permanent tags (link in bio) or send me a request :) Figuring out what to write about is the hardest part.

Tags: @nyx2021 @cramenjoyer @bklynxbaby @alexabarnes @leyannrae @drayshadow @oceaniamaddness @moonstruckbirdie @fangirls94 @lilylovelyxo @5moremin @ilovesebastianstan @downbadforobiwan28 @leahnicole1219 @yokiebo @broadwaybabe18 @letojokerownsme @motheroffae

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #marvel imagine #marvel

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mythrae · 8 months

Text

On the Lowest

Summary: Sworn to secrecy, you and Gale relieve a bit of stress during a midnight tryst. (aka Gale Dekarios fucks)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do NOT interact), smut without plot

Author's Notes:

Thank u all for voting in my tumblr poll I hope this is to your liking

Tav is described as having female genitalia

This might be a little OOC for Gale but I definitely see him as a switch kind of guy, he's just a little more of a top in this bc ya girl is a bottom

I haven't written smut in a LONG time and this isn't beta'd so please be kind

Click here to read on AO3 :)

Usually, you never mixed your business with pleasure.

It was a dangerous game, one you knew all too well. You found yourself often thinking with what’s between your legs rather than between your ears, and in an environment where you’re working closely with others, it can lead to many awkward situations with your companions. So awkward, in fact, you feared that someone could potentially leave your party over it.

But there was something about the Wizard of Waterdeep that made you want to risk it all.

You had taking a liking to Gale ever since he joined your party. Kind, intelligent, powerful, he was a formidable ally, and a good companion to keep around.

But he first intrigued you in that way while fighting through the Shadow Cursed lands, after a particularly tough battle. Gale had made a comment to you about how he read that a brush with danger may have an effect on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.

He understood when you told him that you weren’t looking for a long-term partner, especially with the dubious task of removing the tadpole in the forefront of your mind. But, as long as the two of you kept it a secret, you supposed there was nothing wrong with having a little fun and releasing some of your stress.

***

While the rest of the camp slept soundly at the Last Light Inn, you you found yourself tip toeing out into the night. Placing the pixies bell in your pocket, just in case, you walked on the outskirts of the safe haven, until you found the make-shift bridge made from rocks. You leaped across, being cautious to not slip and fall into the rushing water below.

As you entered the Shadow Cursed lands, you cautiously made your way up the stairs, hand on your weapon just in case. You approached the abandoned house, the perfect size for

“Hello?” You called out, hoping and praying no one else was there.

You approach the bedroom, pulling back the heavy curtain that took the place of the door. Gale was already lying on the bed in his camp clothes, a small candle burning on the nightstand next to him.

“Ah, there you are.” He said, sitting up on the mattress and standing to greet you. “I was starting to worry the Shadow Curse had gotten you.”

You reach in your pocket and show off the pixie’s bell as you stand in front of him. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest — it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this. Would tonight make you feel satiated? Or regretful?

“A wise choice.” He commended as you stuffed it away. “You never know what dastardly creatures could be out here, you know.”

“What, like you?”

“Precisely.”

He wasted absolutely no time, leaning in to press his lips against yours. He kissed you feverishly, like a starving dog lunging for a piece of raw meat. You could taste the fine wine from dinner left on his lips, and you felt yourself slowly getting drunk off him. Your knees grew weak as you feel his hands rest at your hips, your desire slowly starting to build between your legs.

You rested your hands at the nape of his neck, a shaky sigh escaping his mouth as your fingertips trailed down his spine. Hells, you knew the man was touch-starved, but you didn’t realize how badly…

You nibbled at his lower lip, enticing a soft moan from the wizard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He pulls you closer to him, and you can feel his arousal straining through his trousers, begging to be freed.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily. “Lie back.”

You followed his command, falling back on the soft mattress as you gazed upon his face in the candlelight.

Dare you say, he looked very handsome kneeling in between your legs.

His fingers made light work of your trousers, untying the laces and pulling them off swiftly to reveal your underclothes. He placed a soft kiss on the thin fabric, playfully nudging at your clit with his nose, sending a dull wave of pleasure rolling through your body. You heard him breathe in deeply, taking you for a bit of a surprise as you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Getting a whiff of my natural musk, are you?”

Gale let out a light chuckle, tugging off your underwear with his teeth to expose your fragrant heat to him. “Darling, there’s nothing I need more.”

Lifting your legs to rest on top of his shoulders, his mouth is on you in an instant. He couldn’t wait another moment, he had to taste you now.

You feel his wet tongue delving between your folds, lapping hungrily at your essence. Your fingers snake through his locks and grip tightly, the coils already tightening in your lower belly. Gods, how long had it been since anyone had touched you like this, let alone tasted you? You weren’t sure, getting lost in the divine sensation of Gale burying his face in you.

Whatever he was doing with his tongue must be enchanted, the way he’s making you feel right now.

Your breath hitched as you sensed two of his fingers toying at your entrance, his brown eyes looking to yours for permission. You nodded, biting your lip, as he gently pushed them inside you. A moan slipped from your lips, enticing him to move his fingers faster, more rapidly, as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Gods, this is too fucking good, you thought, tightening your grip in his hair and almost pulling Gale out from between your legs.

But the wizard was much stronger, the fingers of his free hand wrapped around your hip and keeping you in place. His ministrations continued as you felt him suckle at your clit, your hips bucking his face in response.

“Gale…” you moan softly, afraid that even though you were out of earshot, the others would still hear you.

His mouth moved away from your folds, “Yes, dear? What is it?”

The ache in between your legs intensified. His two fingers thrusting inside your sex weren’t enough to satisfy you.

No, you needed all of him.

“I need you. Inside me.” You stammered, embarrassed to beg for him out loud.

“Ah ah, use your words,” he demanded, his fingers slipping out of you. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“You…your cock.” You confessed, bashfully.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing your sex one final time. “Eager, aren’t we?”

His hands move to both your thighs, lifting them from his shoulders and pushing them back onto your chest. He stood over you, quickly stripping himself of his camp clothes. You watched him intently, your eyes gazing upon his form. He was lean, but fit, almost as if you were looking at the body of a God. With the sigil in his chest glowing bright, it would be easy to mistake him for one.

As you watched him slip off his trousers, you were a little shocked at how... well endowed Gale was. You had a feeling he would be, but to see it with your own two eyes was quite the treat.

He held on to the base of his cock, stroking it as he lined himself up to your slick entrance. He looked to you, searching for your consent to sink himself in you.

You don't hesitate, nodding quickly, nearly pleading with him to fuck you already.

His slowly slides himself in your wetness, both of you letting out a delighted sigh as the two of you became one. His hands grabbed your hips, digging into the flesh as he sheathes himself in you. He didn't break his gaze with you for a single moment, his eyes growing darker the deeper he went.

"Don't be gentle," you whisper as he fills you entirely for the first time.

He lets out a groan, his breath hot with desire.

You hear him mutter something under his breath, but before you can make out what he said, he leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he thrusts himself back out, only to snap his hips into yours with full force.

Nine Hells, he's like an animal.

You cry out as he pounds you relentlessly, skin slapping on your sensitive nub over and over again. The same magic that enchanted his mouth and fingers must have been at work again, the way he nearly had you at your climax so quickly. He knew it too, a small smile forming at his open lips as he reached for a clothed breast, wrinkling your shirt even further as he kneads it in his hand.

Your eyes closed tight as you turned your head away, the pleasure taking you to a different realm entirely. Sweat rolled down his brow as he continued to rock into you, his hands moved to cradle your face and spinning it back to face him.

"Look at me," he ordered, "I want to see you fall apart."

You locked eyes with him as the coils in your lower belly continued to tighten, your body beginning to shake as the hot white feeling welled up, begging to explode. He kept on hitting that sweet spot deep within you, over and over again...

You took his thumb in your teeth as he rubbed it against your lips, sucking on the digit as your eyes still focused on him. You felt his hips began to stutter, he was close to his own release. Your teeth scraped against the pad of his thumb, inciting a gasp from his lips as he bucked in response.

Oh, hells, you were done for.

You felt your walls quiver around him as you finally gave in to your climax, hot waves of pleasure coursing through your body as your vision went blurry. Gale's thumb slipped out of your mouth as he felt you around him, pulling himself out of you as you felt his hot seed pooling on your lower stomach.

The two of you panted loudly as you came down from your conjoined release, holding each other's gaze. His eyes were no longer darkened by lust, but looked rather... warm. As if he was looking upon a long lost lover.

The thought made your cheeks flush for a moment, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You didn't have time for romance, for relationships, not with the fear of ceremorphosis at the front of your mind. Removing the mind flayer tadpole was your only priority.

And yet... the thought of Gale holding you close at night didn't seem like the worst possible outcome.

"Are you all right, dear?" He asked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"I'm fine," you replied, leaning your head in the palm of his hand. "That was... wonderful."

He smiled, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb reverently.

"But don't forget, this stays between us, all right? Keep it on the down low."

"On the lowest, darling." He smiled, moving his hand to create an X over the orb in his chest. "You have my word."

***

“Thou hast now a bosom companion.” The voice of Withers wakes you from your slumber with a jolt. “Take care that thou art not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”

A moment passes between the two of you. You’re wondering as to why Withers was standing right above your tent, let alone why he would seek you out in the first place.

Then, the words of his message become clear in your mind.

“… excuse me?” You ask, bewildered as to how he would know what happened between you and Gale the night before, especially when they weren't even at camp when it happened.

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

Without another cryptic word, Withers turns and stalks away, leaving you alone to your very confused thoughts. There was only one response you could give to him:

“… okay, Bone Man.”

#mythrae writes #baldurs gate gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #wizard of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #baldur’s gate gale #bg3 gale smut #bg3 smut

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