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#some against my good will (not here on Tumblr; mind you)
theheroinewashere · 4 days
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Sometimes I think about just disappearing forever.
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starsmuserainbow · 1 year
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Always having to scroll down for the next few posts to load to make the number of the tracked tags update (or, at least that works every now and then, some numbers just don't reset at all though). Mutual checker not working (I think? not sure where that icon would even be atm with the new header-design), most likely because of the mess that tumblr did to the post-headers (and the avatars). Then ofc all that tumblr is doing recently. How empty and cold the dash feels without the avatars next to each post.
I really don't have a good feeling about all of this.
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thatonecrookedsmile · 5 months
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So, I've recently been reading Fade To Black for the first time, and I'm making more and more progress. And at the moment I'm currently am, I have already read chapter 21 of this book.
I just wanted to put on record here that I became a different person after reading this chapter. I have been changed. I was saddened. And most importantly, I was destroyed. (ok, that's a pretty heavy word. I didn't cry, but feelings were definitely felt). This book goes hard, I believe.
Oh and also, since I got past chapter 23:
Joey Drew. I'm Gonna Kick Your Ass. Sleep with your eyes open tonight.
That's all. Have a good day everyone.
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joonieskinks · 25 days
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happy two years on tumblr to me today!! 🥳
here’s my favorite shy boy to celebrate
simon ghost riley who is too nervous to talk to you or approach you. you’re just so naturally gorgeous and put together, he’s afraid he’ll say something wrong and scare you off. so he just continues to observe from afar. kinda feels pathetic, like he’s back in elementary school, but he can’t help it.
you’re the pretty diplomatic relations officer on the 141 team, a newer addition who helps with all the paperwork and policy. you work more with captain price, however you conduct meetings sometimes and talk to the guys here and there for their opinions.
simon ghost riley who still remembers the first day you spoke to him, everything you said, hell, the first time you so much as looked into his eyes. your gorgeous smile turned his tummy upside down and he has the stunning image of you engraved into his mind. little did he know, you thought he had the prettiest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen.
you make excuses just to touch him too, handing papers over for him to sign and slipping your hand over his. or going to walk past him but then holding onto his arm to tell him good morning. simon thinks you do this with everyone because you’re so open and kind like that, but you save all your special attention for him only.
simon ghost riley who one day has had enough of johnny stealing your attention and asking you out right in front of him. he’s sick and tired of kyle making up the dumbest reasons to include you in physical training just to touch you and “help your form”.
enough of that shit.
so he takes things into his own hands and comes storming into your meeting with price. both of you look up rather surprised at the sudden and brooding intrusion, right in the middle of some document reviewing-
“we need to talk.” simon declares, eyes unmoving from yours, intense, desperate… if didn’t have your understanding of him, you’d think he wanted to beat you up.
“riley, this is hardly the appropriate time, we-“
“it’s okay, captain. we’ll be quick, yeah?” you nod at simon and he immediately turns around to the hallway. you get up slowly, looking at price and he matches your “okay then” look.
simon ghost riley who is pacing, he’s cracking his fingers and playing with his belt loops. it suddenly hits him that he’s finally gonna be alone with the woman he finds absolutely irresistible. can he control himself? will he make a fool out of himself? will you reciprocate if he goes through with this? if you don’t, then what? fuck.
“simon?” you start, closing the office door behind you, leaving you two alone. “everything okay?”
he’s fawning over your big doe eyes, full of concern and empathy for him, utterly focused on him. it makes the crotch of his pants tighten and he has the strongest urge to pull you to him. he’d take you in the hallway up against the wall here if you’d let him. but he’s getting ahead of himself-
“uh- yea. good.” he manages to stutter out. god, he’s never felt this nervous in his life. for once it feels like he truly cares what will happen to him. he cares for you, wants something with you. well, only one way to find out. no more stalling. enough of this shit.
simon ghost riley who strides towards you, taking off his mask and bringing your head into his hands. he connects his lips to yours before you can process. you just feel warmth and you lean into him. his fingers dive into your hair, deepening the kiss and he’s over the moon. you actually seem to want him too, you’re reciprocating and his nerves are eagerly replaced by thoughts of you moaning out his name as your hands move to his waist.
when you pull back for air, you’re met with Simon’s eyes glazed over by lust for you. his lips are pink, puffy and he’s still looking at yours like he’s not had his fill of them yet. “want you… ‘long time” he murmurs out before reconnecting. he’s overcome by your taste, your warmth and your fingers slipping into his pants. it makes him moan into your mouth, his hands flying to your hips, pushing you roughly up against the wall.
simon ghost riley who only raises his eyebrows as if to ask the question and you’re rapidly nodding. yes, yes, god, yes please take me.
“all yours” you whisper against his mouth, arms crossing behind his neck. the possessiveness that he tries to push down comes bubbling up and escapes his mouth with a groan.
he hoists you up, grasping your ass and your legs wrap around his waist.
“always been yours, si”
“good. ‘cus now you’re gonna be a good girl and show me.”
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cornfieldsrambles · 11 months
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YOU HAVE PERMISSION TO INFODUMP PLEASE TELL ME ABOUT WIGGLY'S SIBLINGS???? THAT HE APPARENTLY HAS????
omg ok SO
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Meet the Lords in Black. Charming, aren't they?
Yes, Wiggly does indeed have four brothers who all do different things, so I'll cover them one by one, in order of introduction (since we've already met each of them in Nightmare Time at least once). BTW Nightmare Time has a fuckton of lore in it that I won't go into here, so even though I am about to spoil significant parts of it for you, I do recommend watching it, it's really good and if there's enough interest they might make a third one!
(Also you might notice they're all in doll form in this picture. This is how we knew them up until NPMD introduced us to what I call their Tumblr sexyman forms. Which are rad as hell by the way.)
So you already know Wiggly. That little green fucker, Wiggog Y'Wrath, the Capitalist Cthulu who does uwu-speak and starts a cult by invading people's minds. This will become a bit of a reoccurring theme with these guys. He's also the only one to successfully start an apocalypse, and the only one to have attempted to birth himself into our reality. (Or is he? We'll get to that...) He does seem to have some kind of dominion over the other LiB, as whenever all five of them show up there's always emphasis placed on him, like in NPMD where he does most of the talking while his siblings occasionally butt in.
Now for Bliklotep. Blinky seems to have slightly lower-scale ambitions than Wiggly, but don't let that fool you. Eyeball Boi is still incredibly dangerous. He runs an amusement park, WatcherWorld, deep within the Hatchetfield Witchwood. But it's not for the amusement of the patrons. Oh no. It's for Blinky's own amusement. Once you step inside, every insecurity, every shred of potential conflict will be ripped to the forefront, turning people against each other to the point of trying to kill each other until he's fully infected their minds. It's implied that, if not all, but a significant chunk of the workers at WatcherWorld were once patrons before having their minds taken over by Blinky. He's also implied to be the thing in Trail To Oregon that Jack Bauer sees during his venom-induced hallucination, as Blinky is referred to as "The Watcher With 1,000 Eyes", which is exactly what JB says he sees? Making Blinky the only LiB to induce a Starkid crossover. My headcanon is that the Dikrats founded Hatchetfield. But regardless.
Next up on the roster is Tinky. T'noy Karaxis, the Time Bastard. You may be wondering about that one line in NPMD where he recognised Pete as a Spankoffski, and said he "could have the whole set in his toybox". Has Tinky gone after Pete's relatives?
Well. Um. You know Ted, right? Yeah, his name is Spankoffski. He's Pete's big brother. We actually got the surname reveal before the brother reveal, lol. And that's not the only reveal we got about Ted. Our boy Teddy Bear has this whole entire tragic backstory and it turns out he gets fucked over in literally every timeline! Isn't that fun?
So, to summarise an entire episode: Tinky makes travel fuckery happen, Ted wants to go back in time to fix his life, accidentally goes back to before the time machine was created and gets stuck in the past, literally. Tinky is watching and laughing at the whole thing, then shows up to blow Ted's brain to smithereens with his weird little magic box, the Bastard's Box, where he stores all the people he toys with. Anyway Ted eventually catches up with the present by aging, except now no one knows who he is, he's... actually I won't spoil that. But once he dies he ends up eternally trapped and tortured in the Bastard's Box. Yaaay.
Fast forward to Nightmare Time 2 and we get introduced to Nibbly, in possibly the most unexpected way imaginable. He's revealed to have been behind a whole episode literally right at the end of said episode, and even though it was kind of foreshadowed, it hits you like a freight train in the best way. Remember when I said Wiggly was the only one who tried to birth himself into reality? That was kind of a lie. Nibblenephim can sort of do that anyway. Every year, he can possess a bunch of carcasses and create a living form to walk the earth for one night. He also has a cult of followers who provide him with the carcasses, as well as a sacrifice to feed on. There's a little more to it, specifically with how the sacrifice is chosen, but again, I'm trying to spoil as little as possible. Go watch Nightmare Time. Nibbly also seems to have a "pig" motif, and his theme song, The Nibbly Ditty, is a banger, easily my favourite of the three LiB theme songs we've heard so far.
And finally, we are introduced to Pokotho, in the very last episode of NMT2.
Except no. We were formally introduced to Pokey there, yes, but we've seen his apocalypse already. Long before NPMD, before Nightmare Time, even before Black Friday.
Yeah, remember me saying that Wiggly was the only one to successfully start an apocalypse? That was also a lie! Pokey already did that, and he did it without ever showing his masked face. Remember The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals? The blue spores that came down in a meteor and turned everyone into singing zombies? That was Pokey's doing! That's his blue spores! That's his apocalypse!
This also provides an explanation for why blowing up the meteor didn't work. Emma and Hidgens were right about the hivemind thing, but wrong about the location of the central brain. It wasn't the meteor - the meteor was just the vessel which carried the spores to Earth. The central brain was sitting safely up in the Black and White, laughing as Paul blew himself to smithereens. The central brain was Pokey, the Singular Voice, the most uncompromising of his brothers. The one who hates every voice that is not his own, hence the hivemind and making all of his zombies speak in HIS voice.
Anyway in NMT2 he's happily collecting musical zombies by taking on a human form and infiltrating a fighting ring of superpowered children until he has enough to kickstart another apocalypse. (Don't question it, we're almost done). He also calls himself Otho, not Pokey, making him the only LiB to have two different abbreviations of his name. Hannah is also there (remember her? Lex's little sister?) and she is like incredibly important to this whole thing, she has a super powerful mind, but that's a whole other thing.
But I did mention Hannah for a reason. Because you said "Wiggly's SIBLINGS". And while the Lords in Black are always referred to as brothers, they do have one more sibling. A sister. A Queen in White. And her name is Webby.
Yep, Hannah's imaginary friend isn't imaginary, who could have guessed? She's benevolent, always trying her best to combat her brothers' antics, but given that there's one of her and five of them, this is a bit of an uphill battle. Webby doesn't have a full name that we know of, nor does she have a doll. We don't know much about her. And she may not be all-powerful - but then again, neither are her brothers.
Infodump concluded. Hope this helps, it was very fun to write.
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ohdeerfully · 8 months
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hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️
what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰
Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!
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Be Back Soon (i)
alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.
“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.
Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”
“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.
“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.
“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.
You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.
“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.
Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.
“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”
Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.
“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.
Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.
You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.
Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.
“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.
He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.
You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?
Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.
It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.
“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.
“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.
Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.
You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.
You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.
“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.
You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.
“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”
Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.
He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.
“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.
Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.
“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”
“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.
“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 
You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.
“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”
How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.
You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.
Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.
“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”
Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.
“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”
Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.
He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.
He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.
Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.
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he-calls-me-kitten · 7 months
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Recently got busy and haven't had time to be around at all .. I just skimmed through whatever I have missed while I was away and I realized how badly I missed your writing style... It's just so ue2ge8eh27db❤️❤️⁉️⁉️ I can't really explain it.. its scrumptious, very very yummy... So I come with a little request... We know the obey men are quite and as a short girlie that's just like so fucking attractive like?????????? Sirrrr???? 😖😖
Imaginee... getting picked up by them and quite literally hanging off their cock as they just dangle you in the air, your feet not touching the ground as they just fuck yiu silly, watching your writhe and sob as their cock leaves a bulge on your stomach as you claw at their arms. They don't even gotta be trying, your just go dumb on their cock, crying how it's too big and having them bully themselves in you...
Basically that prompt with barbatos, Simeon and beel
I'm a very horny Tumblr user as you can tell LMAO
Love you though, take rests, eat, drink, stay healthy, darling. Mwah 💋
-M. 🪭🪷
Oh my god look who's back?!!! Hey M!!! Missed you loads, hopefully life eases up on you, busy little thing! Thank you for checking in, it means the world ❤️
And your ideas...just *chef's kiss*. Here's another treat for the short AFAB folks with size kink out there!!!
Little Body Big Heat
Afab! MC x Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub
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Barbatos mock apologizes as you pant and plead him to stop. But he's barely even doing anything really. All he's doing is just standing there, carrying you in his arms, holding you so close.
You're the one struggling and twitching to take him in more or push him out. The way you are writhing - he genuinely cannot tell but he sure is enjoying the show.
"MC, use your words, won't you? I'm sorry I can't understand you when you're like this, my love." He coos, brushing hair away from your face.
"Mhhmm- B-Barb please.... please it's too much. Please ....just... help me move..." You struggled to string a sentence together.
And he finally the gracious butler takes pity on you. You're asking so nicely after all.
"Is this better?" He moves so painfully slow, you whine into his ears. "Oh? Would you like me to be... faster?" He kisses your neck, feeling the vibrations of your delightful complains, which soon would turn into delightful screams. And he wants everyone to hear them too.
Simeon's angelic side simply ceases to exist when it comes to his desire for you. Honestly what were you thinking falling asleep, sitting on his lap. Don't you know he already has a hard time behaving himself around you?
"Did you have a good sleep, MC?" He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss. "As you can see...I've run into quite the problem. I can't go home to Luke while I'm like this now, can I?"
You take some time to come to your senses. After all, it's not every day you wake up with Simeon's erection between your legs.
"Would you like to use me...to calm it down?" You gingerly try to hold him down there, it took both of your hands yet he was still much too big for you. He made a low groan at the contact.
"Really, you wouldn't mind?" He asks even as his fingers are already touching your waist, slowly pulling off your top.
"Your sense of duty is really admirable, MC." He chuckles as he pulls off your shorts, now undoing his own pants. "Now then, where would you like me?"
"You...can choose." You let him feast on you with his eyes and hands, enciting soft whimpers and moans. His fingers delight at the wetness pooled between your legs, toying with you before pressing his erection against your puffy clit.
He pushes into your hole, stretching you out but before you can't even let out a sound. His tongue is inside your mouth devouring your screams. You've taken him in so well. He can feel himself bulge out your stomach. "Does that feel good, my little lamb?"
You nod even tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "So good..so... full... It's toobiigg... you'resooo big S-Simeon... please..." Oh how he loves doing this to you.
Beelzebub's length is only the second most dangerous thing about him. The first is his stamina. You realise this now as you have been pressed against his lockers for what feels like hours. Your feet haven't touched the ground in so long.
"Beel...a-are you still.. not done..." You watched him pant, looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes. When you told him you'd help him get his mind off food, this is not how he thought it would go.
"Beel! I-I know you're really famished ..but ...but you can't... keep...doing this...ahhhmn..mnhn Beel I'm about to...cum again...stop please..." He kept sucking your slick up, right through your orgasm. Talk about overstimulation.
He already tormented you with his tongue down there till you were leaking through your underwear. And now that he was too aroused to calm down, you simply had to let him fuck you. "Just...one last time, MC. I promise."
Yeah sure. He said that two rounds ago. Seriously you wondered how you had not passed out yet. But then again, everytime he moved - you swear he kept discovering a new pleasure point inside you.
"MC your face right now...you look so cute...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself...and you feel so warm..." He plunged in and out of you again, bouncing you on his dick effortlessly. Of course he hasn't thought about food, he's been too busy devouring you.
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sugawhaaa · 28 days
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Hongjoong one-shot
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💋🌹Awe poor thing🌹💋
Warnings:: SMUT
Pairing:: rough!dom!Hongjoong x sub!fem!reader
Genre::edging, degrading, "daddy" Hongjoong, punishment, belt spanking, cuffs, restraints, pussy slaps, blindfolding, collar, pet names, ownership, oral, face fucking, fingering, creampie, delayed orgasms, fake sympathy, aftercare 💕
A/N:: bruh tumblr posted this without warning and I wanted to make it a surprise for someone 😭 well this sucks but I'll update this later today with the second half of the fanfic bc tumblr sucks 💔 update! I posted the rest of it 💪
Inspiration/photos from:: @crimsonbubble
🎧::
“No, no, no come back here,” Hongjoong gently yet forcibly grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. When he gets you close enough he slides his hand to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “You wanna tell me what you were doing in the bathroom for so long?”
In truth, during your shower you couldn't help but think nasty thoughts and eventually caved in and masturbated your heart out. You even used the shower head right on your clit as you fingered yourself. By the end of your shower you ended up on the floor of the tub with the shower head spraying up between your thighs as you continued to catch your breath. When you got out and dried off you still weren't feeling satisfied and continued to fuck yourself stupid.
That was until Hongjoong knocked on the door. “Hey sweetie, are you okay in there?” He asked softly and you froze. You took your fingers out of yourself and began to dry off.
“Y-Yup all good!” You fake a smile even though he can't see it.
“You sure baby? I thought I heard some crying or something in there,” you hear him lean closer into the door and you wrap the towel around yourself.
“Oh uh yeah I got some…cleanser up my nose and I was just trying to get it out haha~” you lied and Hongjoong let out a low chuckle.
“Okay angel, I'll be out in the kitchen,” he knocks again before leaving, heading out to the kitchen like he had said. You finish drying off and do your skincare but the sight of your oil cleanser didn't cleanse your mind at all. The warm white liquid dripped down the sides of your palms and when you put it to your face it dripped down your chin. You watched as the liquid fell down your neck from your lips…just like Hongjoongs cum. You tried to pull your mind out of the gutter and washed off the cleanser.
You got out of the shower and changed into your comfy pajamas before meeting hongjoong out in the kitchen. You eagerly grabbed a cup of water and chugged it and Hongjoong instantly got suspicious. “Thirsty hm?” He smiled with his teeth and you continued drinking before smiling.
“Yeah my shower was just really hot,” you admit and Hongjoong raises a brow. “I'm really tired, I'm going to go lay down,” you smile as you head to your room.
“No, no, no come back here,” Hongjoong gently yet forcibly grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him. When he gets you close enough he slides his hand to rest on your waist, pulling you closer to him. “You wanna tell me what you were doing in the bathroom for so long?” He looked directly into your eyes and you knew you couldn't lie, not with him looking at you like this.
“Nothing really. I was just…shaving so it took a while,” you look down, away from his prying eyes.
“Shaving hm? Do you usually moan when you shave?” He smirks subtly and you turn to him surprised. “Don't act surprised. I could hear you from across the house,” he pulls the small of your back towards him, pressing your hips against his. “Remember what I told you angel. It doesn't matter when, where, or how it you're horny you come to me,” he reminded you of your mutual deal. He brings a hand up to your cheek, stroking it softly. “But you don't like listening do you? You like being bad,” he continues to hold your face as he leans down. His breath travels down your neck as he speaks. “Isn't that right? Use your words,” he growls softly and you pause.
“Yes, I-I do,” you look away from him and attempt to move your head away from him but he holds your head, forcing you to look at him.
“You know you've been bad don't you? You feel embarrassed?” He speaks in a low rasp in your ear, his breath making your skin tingle. You nod softly and he smirks. “Now, I think you deserve a little punishment for disobeying me hm? I've given you many warnings and you still persist,” he lets you go slowly but you don't avoid him, looking straight at him just like he craved. “Do you think that's fair? I warned you and you still went ahead and used yourself instead of me. Right?” He brings a hand up to your chin, rubbing his thumb across it gently.
“Yes,” you nod and the two of you knew that word was your consent. All Hongjoong needed in order to break you was a simple “yes” and he had gotten it from you.
“Good girl. Now, go to the bedroom, strip, and then lay down and wait there for me,” he ordered and you complied. You walked off to the bedroom and did as he asked. He took longer than usual to follow after you but after minutes of painful waiting you heard the door creak open. You lifted your head up to see Hongjoong in the doorway with bundles of ropes, chains, and other sex toys you couldn't fully see and in that moment you knew he was serious about this and you couldn't wait. “Close your eyes,” he spoke softly and you did as he asked. You nervously bit your lip as you kept your eyes shut tightly.
You heard some movement around on the floor next to the bed specifically and you instantly felt something was off. You wanted to peak so bad but you refrained. You then felt Hongjoong come onto the bed, the bed sunk slightly as he crawled onto the bed. “You can open your eyes now darling,” he smirked softly as you peered your eyes open. You looked up at hongjoong and over to the floor. There was a towel laid out with all of his “tools” resting on top of it. The ropes and chains you noticed from earlier and belts, a flogger, vibrators, dildos of various sizes, collars and a blindfold. Lastly you noticed on the nightstand next to you a bottle of water, presumably for you which made your heart melt a little. “Look at me,” he spoke harshly and you didn't defy. You looked right up at him. “I am going to break you tonight,” Hongjoong said in a low voice before smirking. His words and tone made your skin crawl but you were oh so excited. He then tilted his head up and to the side. “Roll over,” he said and you instantly rolled over. “On your knees,” he commanded before standing up. You did as he asked and you instantly knew what was going to come next.
Your ass was up and sticking out slightly, giving Hongjoong full access to your ass. He ran his hand down your plump skin before growling softly. Then you felt the first fire slap. You whimpered softly as his palm hit your flesh aggressively. You felt the heat travel down your body to where his hand had been. “Do you know exactly how long you were in the bathroom for?” He asked in a low rasp and you stayed quiet because you didn't know. He then spanked you hard. “Answer me,” he growled as he leaned down to you.
“I-I don't know!” You whimper and he smirked.
“An hour and fifteen minutes,” he informed you and you felt the heat rush to your face. You masturbated that entire time. “So I'm going to punish you for double that amount of time,” he smirked and pointed over to the digital clock on your nightstand. “It's 7:14 correct?” He whispered in your ear as he grabbed your ass cheek in a tight fist. You nodded with a whimper. “So your punishment will be done at 9:45 and that's if you're a good girl,” he says before leaning back again. “Tell me this, how many times did you cum in the shower?” He asked as he knelt down to the display with the towel.
“I-I think like…11 times?” You told him and you could see the switch in his head.
“Eleven times? You're such a greedy little slut aren't you?” He said as he stood again, a belt in one hand. He spanked you hard with his hand one last time.
“Yes I am,” you nodded and he grinned.
“But you're supposed to be my greedy slut,” he growled before raising the folded belt. You bit your lip in anticipation before feeling the cold leather slap against your skin. You whimper loudly as Hongjoong watches your skin turn red. “It hurts doesn't it?” He makes a slightly pouty face at you with a little tut. You nod with a whimper and he spanks you again. Your body tenses and you breathe heavily. “But you deserve this. Don't you?” He spanked you for the third time and you hesitated.
“Yes, I do,” you gasp out before feeling another slap from the belt. This one hurt more than the others. The sting lingered and you felt the impact from it for a moment longer than usual. You bury your face in the pillow with a whine. He holds the belt back from skin, giving you a moment to relax.
“Look up at me baby,” he leans down and gently holds your chin as you look up at him. He smiles softly as he sees you look at him and he rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. He leans down and kisses your lips tenderly. He doesn't say a word but you know what this simple gesture meant. It was a silent praise for your resilience.
The feeling of praise doesn't last long though as he resumes the spanks with his belt until your ass is red and swollen. It stung but in a way that felt so good. You were his and you had the scars to prove it now. “Lay on your back,” Hongjoong orders as he steps back. You don't hesitate in the slightest and roll onto your back. Hongjoong grabs a blind fold and gently places it over your eyes before tying it snugly. You then hear the sound of a vibrator before feeling it meet your aching folds. You jump slightly and you hear Hongjoong chuckle.
He sets the vibrator between your thighs and tells you to keep your legs closed. He then wraps one belt around your upper thighs and one a bit further down to secure your legs and the vibrator. You hear the familiar click of the vibrator and the vibrations increase in intensity. You whimper and attempt to squirm your thighs out of the belts but you find yourself still stuck to the vibrator.
“You're so mean,” you whine and raise your hands to your head but he grabs them.
“Oh I know. I'm so mean to you and you fucking love it. You crave it. Don't you?” He growls as he firmly holds your wrists. He then ties them together with a pair of leather cuffs and ties the chain to the top of your bed. “If you weren't such a brat I wouldn't have to be mean,” he explains as he fastens the restraints on your wrists. “You understand me?” He hisses and you nod with a whine. “Good,” he then sits back and watches you squirm.
He sits there for quite a while just watching you and saying mean words to you. The odd time he reaches forward and fiddles with the vibrator. Changing the intensity, the pattern or just pushing it harder against your folds and clit. “This all could've been avoided if you just simply asked for my help,” he turns the vibrator up about three notches, one away from max, and you find your hips bucking up off the bed.
“Please! Hongjoong! I'm sorry, please just let me cum~” you whine and places a firm slap to your clit.
“Listen here slut,” he growls. “You will cum when I say you can cum. Until then you shut up unless I ask you to speak. You hear me?” It was clear you had accidentally stepped right over Hongjoongs final line and you were going to receive one hell of a punishment tonight.
“I'm sorry and I understand daddy,” you whimper and he smiles.
“Good,” he turns up the vibrator and rubs it back and forth on your folds. You're left a wreck beneath him, letting out little sobs and whines as he tortures you in the most pleasurable way possible. He finally caves in and stops turning the vibrator on and off. But he still hasn't told you that you can cum yet.
“Can I cum?” You ask softly and he thinks for a moment.
“Mmm I don't know,” he hums for a moment pondering your fate.
“Please,” you look up at him with doe eyes though he can't see them.
“Alright darling, but I want you to look at me when you cum,” he pauses the vibrator and unties your blindfold. You don't have to adjust your eyes much due to the darkness in the room. Hongjoong tucks your hair back with a light smirk before turning the vibrator back on. He flicks your nipples softly as the vibrations tickle your skin. The vibrations course up your folds and you can feel it spread all up in your sensitive spots. You look up at Hongjoong through glossy eyes, making direct eye contact. “Good girl, look at me,” he takes your chin in his hand softly and he can tell you're fighting the edge. “Let it out,” he rubs your bottom lip softly as your eyes glimmer and your knees shake lightly.
You can feel your insides unraveling and you feel the wetness fill your pussy. You struggle to maintain eye contact but Hongjoong's always here to remind you of his orders. “Up here baby, come on. You don't want to get another punishment do we?”
You shake your head and continue to look up at him until the waves subside. “Good girl,” he rubs your cheek softly. He looks you up and down before removing the belts and vibrator from your thighs. He sets them back in the pile of toys and moves to undo your restraints. “We'll use these later,” he smirks before picking you up by your waist and sitting you up against the bed. He unzips his pants and pulls them down his legs, teasing you as he does so. He moved at such a slow pace it was painful to watch and you could already see the wet bulge in his pants.
He then unbuttons his shirt and tosses it aside before finally taking off his boxers, springing himself free. No matter how many times you saw this man's cock you got just as excited every time. It was so neat and clean every time, his tip always had such color to it, he always seemed to be soaking wet and dripping precum, and though most girls would complain about this, he had very smooth skin. It felt so nice and warm everytime which made you crave it even more. “You see something you like?” He chuckles as he crawls back onto the bed.
He situates himself in front of you, his cock just in front of your lips. “Suck it baby,” he smirks at you and your breathing turns shakey. You hesitantly part your lips and he slowly pushes into your mouth. He's slow and gentle with it at first but as he gets pulled closer to the edge he needs to put a pillow behind your head.
He pops out of your mouth and leans down to grab a pillow. He slips it behind your head and pushes your head to it. He pushes back into your mouth and starts thrusting into your mouth. He holds the back of your head as he gags you, your eyes tearing up. The room fills with the sound of your gags and the precum and saliva collecting in your mouth. Every Time he thrusts into your throat you make a little “gllk” sound and it makes Hongjoong's cock twitch in your throat.
“You're being so good all of the sudden,” he chuckles. “You like being daddy's slut dont you?” He looks down at you with a possessive grin and you nod your head. “You're so cute,” he then holds the side of your head, thrusting into your throat rapidly before releasing inside your throat. “Swallow it baby, remind yourself of who owns you,” he growls as he stuffs his entire length into your mouth. You whimper as you attempt to swallow it all. “Good slut, good girl,” he rubs your cheek softly before pulling out. You cough softly and he can't help but grin.
You were so small compared to him and it enthralled him. He wanted to protect you, care for you, pleasure you, but it's also his job to put you back in your place. He gets a little hand cloth from the assortment of tools and wipes your lips like you're a baby. “Now let's get to the part you've been whining for,” he grins as he holds your waist softly. “Lay on your stomach,” he gently urges you over and you do as he says. He gets you to spread your legs and he rubs his hands up and down your back before retrieving the wrist restraints from earlier.
He wraps the leather around your wrists and ties the chain to the headboard of your bed. He begins to gently prode the tip of his cock at your folds, rubbing it up and down and collecting all of your arousal. You let out little whines and Hongjoong leans down. “Before we can officially begin I need to remind you who owns you,” he leans down again and grabs this specific collar. It was a custom made one that he had bought for you and it made you feel so special and wanted.
On the black leather collar in big plastic font said “Hongjoong's pet” and ever since he bought it whenever you're acting a little out of line he straps this around your neck for a day. He quickly ties in around your neck and smiles widely. “There we go, I think I can properly fuck you now, can't I?” He teases as he rubs his cock against your slit again. “I need you to say baby, tell me what you want,”
“Please fuck me,” you stutter out and he smiles.
“Sorry, what was that? I couldn't quite hear you,” he teases and you let out a frustrated whine. “I know, it's annoying when people don't listen to you? Isn't it?”
“Please fuck me!” You speak loud and clear and he chuckles. He then grabs your hair and thrusts into you with ease. You let out a choked moan as your eyes widened. No matter how many times you felt his cock inside you it felt better each and every time.
He groans as he feels your tight walls hugging him as he gives you no time to adjust to his length. He pulls in and out of you, watching the way his shaft disappears everytime he pushes back inside your wetness.
“Oh baby you're so wet~ are you desperate, my good little pet?” He growls in your ear and you let out another loud moan as his hips slap against your ass relentlessly. “Answer me slut,” he thrusts harder a few times to get you to speak.
“Yes! I love your cock, I'm always desperate for your cock,” you moan between pathetic sobs and he smirks
“Good girl, now next time you're feeling horny,” he slams into you with each word. “Next time you're feeling like a slut, remember this feeling and instead of using your stupid little toys and your small fingers come to daddy instead,” he hisses and you nod with a whimper. His deep thrusts could send you right over the edge. For every thrust your legs jumped up, your knees bending in pleasure. “Right? That's what you're going to do?”
“Y-Yes!” Your voice cracks as you speak and he laughs softly.
“How does my cock feel baby? Is it too big for your tight little pussy?” He nibbles on your ear lobe as you feel the heat rising in your body again. You pull on the restraints on your wrists as sweat builds on your body.
“So deep,” you manage to whimper out and he grins in approval of your words. As much as Hongjoong seemed like he was already above the clouds, he loved receiving your praise when it came to his body, skills, and ability to make you cum. “I-Im close,” you choke out before letting out a high pitched squeak of pleasure.
“Oh I know baby,” he grabs your hips sturdily and begins to rapidly thrust into you. Your whole body bounces with each thrust. “Cmon hold it for just a bit longer, almost there,” he growls as your body shakes and your moans fall nearly silent due to the pure bliss you're just scraping past. “That's it that's it, I'm gonna count you down okay?” He hisses again as his thrusts remain relentless. “3, 2,” he counts in a low voice that makes you all the more excited. “One!” He groans and the two of you snap.
He thrusts a few more times as you cum around him. He empties inside you, the spurts of cum warming you up. He pulls out and sprays his seed onto your back. It comes out in thick creamy ropes and as soon as it hits your back it begins to melt due to the heat and sweat of your body. You can tell Hongjoong is exhausted from your little session. He struggles to hold himself up as he catches his breath. He weakly reaches up and undoes the restraints on your wrists. “You did good, baby,” he runs his fingers through your hair and kisses your temple. He grabs another towel and wipes off your back. The warmth of the towel felt nice as you felt yourself being dried off. Hongjoong gently lifts you and flips you back onto your back. He crawls down and situates his head between your thighs.
He was gentle with his tongue gently licking around each fold, tending to each of them making sure not a drop of your arousal was left to waste. He flicked your clit a few times and you let out a soft whimper. He moves further down again and dips his tongue in and out of your slit a few times. He sits up to catch his breath and you feel his warm breath against your folds. “You're so gorgeous,” he smiles up at you as you still try and catch your breath. “Relax for me sweetie, your punishments all over,” he kisses your clit, a unique feeling you hadn't experienced much. He trails the kisses down your folds and can't help but leave a little kiss on your further hole.
He returns back up to your slit and licks up your cream pie and the flavor of your mixed cum tingles on Hongjoongs tongue. “Good girl, rest those thighs on my shoulders. Come on,” he lifts your legs up on his shoulders as his tongue begins to work a little faster. Your hips buck up into his face and he smiles against you. “You getting needy again?” He teases as his lips stay on your folds. You nod with a little whimper and he hums in acknowledgment. The little hum sent a buzz through your core and you let out a pleasurable moan. “Tell me what you want baby, want me to keep using my tongue or do you want something more?” He asks softly and you consider his offer.
As you think about what you truly want he begins to slurp up the cum from inside you, as he does so his nose presses against your clit.
“Can you finger me a bit too…please?” You ask softly and he smiles.
“Of course darling,” He gently presses his index finger against your entrance and his finger effortlessly slips into you. You jump softly but quickly adjust to the intrusion. He pumps his finger nice and slow, scooping up the cum from inside you and dripping it out before catching it with his tongue. Something about hid methods made your tummy do backflips and you felt the knot of pure pleasure building again. “Are you getting close again?” He asks in a very soft tone and you nod, your eyes squinted shut. He curls his finger against your sweet spot and you grab the bed sheets in tight fists.
Hongjoong uses his free hand to guide your hand to his hair and you instantly latch onto it. He smiles softly as his fingers and tongue work harder and faster.
“I-I'm close, just-right there! Yes~” you moan as your body tenses all the way through. Each muscle in your body restricts and tightens, even the muscles around his finger, before snapping undone. All the muscles loosen as your breathing resumes but at a much faster pace. Your chest heaves and Hongjoong continues to slurp and suck out all of your sweet nectar.
“Yes baby, let it out. Oh God you're so sexy~” he rubs your thigh softly as he feels the grip of your hand fade and fall to rest beside your body. You whine softly and stop his hand from fingering you. “What's up baby?” He asks but you're too tired to reply. He crawls up to you and lays beside you. “Want some cuddles?” He asks and you smile, nodding as you curl up into his body. “Did you feel good tonight?” He kisses your forehead.
“Yeah, it was intense but…so good,” you laugh softly and he grins.
“I'm glad baby. I'm always here for you. If you want to be treated like a slut or a pet, or if you want to be cherished and loved all the way through,” he kisses you softly. “You know that right?” He holds your cheek to look up at him and you nod. “And I'm not actually mad that you masturbate,” he chuckles. “Well maybe a little bit because I didn't get to see that cute little fact when you cum. But I understand my love. I just know you like this whole role-playing game and I can't help but get into it,” he runs his finger over the lettering on your collar. “God I love when you wear this,” he says through hooded eyes and you smile.
“I know my love, it's all just for fun and you can't get too mad at me because you hump those little hotel pillows all the time,” you pinch his wrist, teasing him.
“Okay well at least I send you the videos,” he rolls his eyes and you kiss his neck softly.
“I'm just teasing,” you chuckle before rubbing his nose against yours. He holds the side of your face as he rests his head against yours. “I love you Hongjoong,” you smile.
“I love you too baby,” he gives you one last kiss before bringing the blankets up to cover your body. “Now get some rest,”
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simmerandwrite · 1 month
Text
electric touch (part 1)
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Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader
Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until you’re faced with someone who doesn’t want to see you win.
Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)
Wordcount: 7k
Part 2
Notes: hello! Are you hungry for a lil slice of ‘who did this to you’ pie with a big dollop of protective Bucky Barnes on top? Dig in!! I aim to be as nondescript as possible for the reader but I will note reader is shorter than Bucky and wears glasses. Thank you for reading and I'd love to hear your thoughts! please consider reblogging, it helps my work reach more lovely people here on Tumblr. <3 merci!
---
Your regular lunch dates with Bucky started unintentionally. In fact, your friendship with Bucky had started that way – very unintentionally.
In retrospect, you couldn’t believe you had been late on your first day. You had intentionally set extra alarms to make sure you got to Stark Industries early.But you couldn’t control the inconsistencies of the New York subway system. When you skirted into the training room, only one seat was left – beside Bucky Barnes himself.
It was funny to think that the mandatory onboarding applied to new Avengers, too.
Of course, you knew who he was – the former Winter Soldier – but you didn’t realize he had to sit through the boring health and safety discussions and HR seminars like everyone else. When the first lunch break arrived, you turned to him and asked if he wanted to join you for lunch at the burger place down the street.
Initially, it looked like he was fighting off the urge to decline, but then he said: “Sure.”
Your conversations were very stilted in the beginning, which you didn’t mind. But as the week carried on, you felt the foundations of a friendship.
(He told you, later, that he appreciated your kindness that first day. That he had been really fucking scared to sit in that room with strangers judging him. He liked that you treated him like a normal person.)
It had grown organically since then – but you were simply just work friends. Your roles at Stark Industries slash The Avengers Initiative didn’t always overlap, but you did occasionally see him in the halls or if he happened to be by medical when you were working. Then, one day, you saw him eating alone in the cafeteria and you dropped down across from him to catch up.
Then lunch turned into a routine for you both. Typically on Wednesdays you’d sit together, if Bucky wasn’t on a mission or you weren’t on the night rotation. Sometimes Sam or Steve or some of the other nurses joined you, but secretly, you liked when it was just you and Bucky. Sometimes it felt like he preferred it that way too.
“So, guess what?” You sat down on the chair across from him, your tray knocking against his. He slowly moved his eyes from the pages of his book – he almost always had his nose in a book at lunch, regardless of the company – and matched your smile.
“I take it you got good news?”
You searched his face then frowned. “Wait, do you already know? That’s not fair.”
“Sam showed me the roster.”
A groan rumbled from your chest. “Boo.” You tipped your head to look at him as you paused. “Can you just pretend you’re about to hear this for the first time?”
Bucky smirked, putting down his book and politely stacking his hands to give you his full attention. “Sure. Start again?”
“Guess what?” You repeated, rolling your eyes.
“I’ve got no clue, doll. What?”
“You are looking at the newest member of the field medical team!” The chair legs squeaked as you danced in celebration.
“Congratulations,” Bucky replied, a wide smile crossing his face. He reached out and offered his fist, which you met with your own. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another - a silly secret handshake you had invented together over a Taco Tuesday lunch one day, mostly out of annoyance to Sam.
You deflated afterwards, though, as reality set in. “Hopefully I can make it through training next week. It’s going to be hard but.. I can do hard things.”
Bucky reached over and grabbed your hand, holding it for a moment though he quickly pulled back. “You’re going to do great. You wouldn’t have been picked if you weren’t capable. You’re more than ready and, well, uh, I’m proud of you.”
You smiled, glancing down to where his hand had briefly made contact with yours. It felt.. hot, for some reason. You resisted touching the skin there. This had been happening more than you wanted to admit recently – a new spark when you saw him, when you touched. You thought you had easily avoided the possibilities of a developing crush on Bucky but.. something had been brewing for you. And maybe the same was happening with him, too - when you thought about how he looked at you, how considerate he was…
You wouldn’t know with any certainty unless you asked and you were way, way too scared to ask. Ruining your friendship may not be worth it. Especially if you were joining the medical team that would accompany the Avengers on some of their missions. What if you made it weird? What if you went on one date and it was terrible and your friendship never recovered? What if you asked Bucky out and then he laughed in your face and –
“We should go out and celebrate,” he cut you off. 
Wait. Was his voice shaking?
You met his eyes. Was he nervous? “I still.. I have to pass the training.”
“I know,” he nodded. “And tomorrow I leave for.. an undisclosed location for the week. So. When I get back and you’ve crushed the training and have the new job title, let’s go out.”
“Just you and me?” You asked, swallowing hard.
Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah. If you..”
“Like a date?”
He closed his eyes, face scrunched up. It was cute. “Yeah, like a date, sweetheart. Just you and me.”
Okay, well, okay. Yes. Okay, that answered your question. You supposed the risk was being taken either way. There. He did the thing before you could even talk yourself out of it.
You smiled, nervously adjusting your glasses. Oh my god. You hadn’t even answered. With eyes wide, you reached for him. “Yes, that sounds.. that sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”
He grinned, squeezing your hand. “For a second there, I really thought I screwed all this up.”
---
Bucky couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to finally just do it. Asking you out had been at the top of his list for a long time and although it scared the shit out of him, this follow-up feeling of anticipation had been totally worth it. Now he just needed to get through a grueling mission with a sweet reward at the end – a date with you.
You- the first stranger who treated him like a regular person. You - who cared so deeply about your job. You - who seemed to always hear his snarky comments and always laughed, giggled, snorted, at them. With a smile that could make his entire body warm up. 
You. He couldn’t wait for that damn date. 
A date was the scary next step. But he was tired of waiting and tired of denying his feelings. And thank god you had reacted just as positively. The foundation of your friendship was so important to him but he had a feeling things could be even better. He prayed he wouldn’t fuck it all up.
When he showed up at the compound early in the morning to get on the jet, Bucky was surprised to see Sam prepping in the pilot’s seat.
Sam jumped in with an answer before the question even left Bucky’s lips. “Natasha had to join Clint on the Belize mission, last minute. So it’s you and me, pal.”
Bucky rolled his eyes. Though he wasn’t mentally prepared for a week with Sam, he could handle it. Bucky was certain he could handle anything that he faced this week, knowing it was your face on his mind keeping him going.
As you crossed his mind again, another thought surfaced.
“If you’re here, who’s taking over the training for the med field team?” Bucky reached for his phone then cursed. They were going dark for this mission so he’d left his phone in his locker. Although he had sent you a message after he got up that morning, he wanted to reach out one last time and send some extra reassurance your way. 
“Don’t worry,” Sam knocked his shoulder, standing up to do a final check of the gear. “Your girl is in good hands.” Sam added in a wiggle of his fingers in Bucky's direction.
You weren’t Bucky’s girl.. yet. He didn’t feel bothered by the term. In fact, he loved it and so badly wanted you to be okay with him saying it some day too. Though it was still worth correcting Sam. It didn’t seem fair to put a label on something without consulting you first. Not to mention Sam’s teasing about you and Bucky had been going on for months and Bucky did not want to indulge him.
“She’s not mine,” Bucky replied, scrubbing a hand down his jaw.
Sam carried on. “Boone is doing the training protocol instead, but I’ll manage the final evaluations next week.” 
A quiet groan escaped Bucky’s lips. “Boone is a jackass.”
“I don’t disagree that he can be a bit too self assured - but he has proved himself in the field and will be a great mentor to this cohort.”
“Wasn’t he one of the agents Steve benched a few months ago - after his annual physical? What’s the term they used - he was doping?”
Sam sighed. “He was clean but a couple of his buddies were thrown out. But Boone is good, Buck. She’s gonna be fine.” With a final glance at the screen between them, Sam clapped his hands. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
---
When you applied for the job at Stark Industries for their medical team, you weren’t entirely sure what the role was going to entail. Your years of working as a nurse at the busiest emergency room in Chicago had given you plenty of experience with, well, everything and anything imaginable. You were always prepared for the unexpected.
What you hadn’t expected though was the pace - it was significantly slower than you imagined. Most of your days revolved around small visits from agents for anything from minor injuries and lacerations to annual physicals. On occasion you’d support when the Avengers came in, but usually they worked directly with Dr. Cho or the other on site doctors.
You figured the cure for your unrelenting desire for more was to get on the field medical team - a group of agents and trained nurses who accompanied the Avengers or other strike teams on missions, acting as a resource for any injuries to civilians and team members alike. Not every mission needed a team and sometimes it would involve last minute travel, but you didn’t mind.
When your application for transfer was finally accepted, you couldn’t get over how excited you were. You had been working hard for months getting into better shape, especially your stamina. Sure, maybe you could do a bit more when it came to targeted strength training but you had qualified on the initial testing to even get into the training level, so you’d be fine.
You could do this.
Truthfully, you were really excited about it. And Bucky had sent you the most encouraging message before he left that morning and you just.. You knew you could do this.
Bucky's words echoed: “...you wouldn’t have been picked if you weren’t capable. You’re more than ready and, well, uh, I’m proud of you.”
You were going to do this well and you were going to make yourself proud, too.
Most of your excitement depleted when you walked into the gym though. You joined the rest of the agents in the training group and braced yourself when you saw Agent Nathan Boone standing with his tablet, calling out names for attendance. 
“Wilson had to suit up as Falcon and jump on a critical mission this morning so I’ll be running the training program this week,” he explained as he sized up his group, which included you plus another half a dozen training agents. 
Without a doubt, Boone was the worst replacement for Sam you could think of. Boone exuded a confidence you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around, given his frat guy personality. Hiding behind his smarmy grin, linebacker build and perfectly coiffed hair - he was a real jackass. 
You tried not to let your mind race as Boone walked you all through the upcoming week of training. You’d be going over everything from basic self defense skills to hand to hand combat strategies to overall endurance drills. Then he explained that next week it was Sam Wilson who’d be doing the final evaluations.
“So let’s prove to him you’re all a good batch, okay?” Boone’s demeanor shifted as he got into his coaching mode. “Let’s start with a warm up run. Onto the treadmills.”
This wasn’t your first interaction with Boone, though you weren’t sure he would remember you. 
During your first few weeks you’d been responsible for doing the annual physicals for most of the agents. It had been a very repetitive (and boring) assignment, until some anomalies came up in the test results. A few agents, including Boone, had weird things flagged on their blood and urine tests - mostly markers that indicated steroid use. Which was completely against standards for agents and employees at Stark Industries. 
One of them, some bulky aggressive asshole, tried to convince you to look the other way but you had ultimately reported it. The fallout caused a huge uproar between the medical team and the agents, with the consequence coming down on a handful of agents who were fired due to drug use. Boone had escaped that fate somehow, passing his re-test with perfect results. And even though HR promised you it was a sealed case, you were always worried it had left a bit of a target on your back.
Nothing had come from it. The next round of physicals you assisted with didn’t involve any of those field agents and no other concerns had been flagged. Everything seemed back to normal.
In fact, you had seen Boone once since that whole controversy. A few months ago you passed him flirting with one of the admins in your department but you kept your head down and ignored him. That was it.
Hopefully the week of training wouldn’t be soured by your history with him but you figured it was safest to go in with an open mind. 
Thankfully, by the end of your run, as you were moving onto some basic tactical drills, he continued treating you just like everyone else. Generally firm and distant overall, but nothing strangely out of the ordinary. His barked orders were delivered to everyone evenly. If he had any recollection of your connected history, he didn’t bring it up.
The first day of training had been tough, especially since you still had a few extra hours of work to log afterwards. When you returned to your reporting station in the medical wing, you had to really settle your mind down and talk your way through the unkind thoughts racing around your brain.
You could do this. 
The second day focused exclusively on muscular endurance, which wasn’t really your strong suit but you managed to keep up with the group all the same.
Boone had the entire cohort going hard - with a lot of tough but constructive encouragement coming from him along the way. When one of the other trainees dropped their barbells, it seemed to irritate Boone immensely too. He let out a few curses as he helped them pick the weights back up then apologized for his reaction but the flare of anger was evident. 
When you were all heading back to the locker rooms, it was one of the other agents muttering about ‘roid rage’ that raised a red flag for you. 
It was during the third day of training that you felt the first tug of resistance with Boone. It was small things that you couldn’t help but file away. The way he delivered supportive commentary to everyone else in the group but only gave you critical feedback. During one of the practical scenarios, he undermined all your answers.
“I see why you’d think that way if you’ve never done this before but I can tell you by experience, it wouldn’t work. Bit of an amateur way of looking at things, actually. You need to do better if you’re going to be in the field with experts. Are you sure you passed the interview for this role?”
He said things in a way that didn’t always seem personal to you, but he certainly delivered them in a condescending tone. 
But, maybe, well, maybe you were just reading into things. You were feeling tired already and not really sleeping, so your focus was a bit off. 
Yeah, you could do better, strategize better, think things through in a better way.
On the fourth day, after a morning of weapons training and spending time at the range, the session moved onto sparring drills. It was quite basic - Boone walked the group through easy to follow hand to hand techniques, spending time here and there with each person to adjust their form. 
Everyone who qualified for the med team had to pass certain physical testing standards already. You had been working hard in the gym for months to get your mind ready, though you knew you weren’t very experienced in anything related to defensive techniques.
When he got to you following one of the scenarios, there was a firm frown on his face. “You need to be less in your head.”
You nodded, flexing and stretching your hands out. “Okay. Uhm okay, well, do you have any tips on how to–”
He was quick to cut you off. “Figure it out. I don’t have time to teach you critical thinking skills.” Following a sharp finger snap, he pointed directly at you. “And what’s with the glasses?”
“Ran out of contacts this morning, but I can do without them if I need to. Its–”
“They’re a safety risk.”
He didn’t care for your explanation or offer you any other advice, instead just muttering something as he moved on and tapping something into the tablet. None of his feedback had been helpful. Christ, you figured maybe it was worth starting a list to consult with Sam about following your evaluation instead. 
You just had to get through one more day with Boone. You were tired - down to your bones, from the physical and mental work during this week.
But it was nearly the weekend and that meant next week was approaching. Most importantly, the training would be done and you would have a real date with Bucky on the books, too. You couldn’t wait.
---
The last training day was mostly a culmination of everything you had gone over from the week. There was more endurance testing, some strength and performance work and the day ended with more sparring and situationals. 
You knew this was the light at the end of the tunnel. And when everything was wrapping up, you were relieved to finally be done with taking instructions from Boone, too.
Until his final speech. “You’ve been a great group and I would say most of you are ready for next week. Wilson will be impressed.” After a few more notes and instructions for the following week, he dismissed everyone. As you headed back towards the locker room, he called your name.
That made your stomach drop. He waved you back over towards the mats.
“I just wanted to give you a heads up,” Boone started slowly, eyes glancing around the empty room before he looked down at his tablet screen. “Here is the report on your training this week.” He turned the device so you could read over it.
After the first line, you took it from his hands. “Wait - what?”
“I just don’t think you’re ready.” Boone crossed his arms. “You’ve got the medical knowledge, sure. But the rest of it, even if you had another two months to train, I’m doubtful.” He took the tablet back and continued scrolling, as if he hadn’t just delivered such a disappointing blow to you. “It’s up to you whether you still want to do your test with Sam next week, but if I was in your shoes, I’d tap out.”
You swallowed hard, head tipped slightly to the side as you took in what he was saying. “That doesn’t make any sense. I kept up with everyone here this week.”
“This is a controlled environment; I don’t think you can hack it in the field.” Boone shrugged. “Like I said, you’re more than welcome to do your evaluation but I don’t think this will impress The Falcon enough to solidify your spot on the field team.”
“Good thing you’re not in charge of this decision then,” you bit in return, taking a step back. It felt like he was egging you on and you didn’t like it. Even worse that you were alone with him in the gym. “I don’t have to prove shit to you.”
“You don’t have to, or you simply can’t?” He countered, tossing the tablet to the side as he crossed his arms. He sized you up, eyes drawing up the shape of your body. “Let’s try something.” He motioned to the mats. “I’ll give you another chance to change my mind about that report. Maybe I misread your abilities and intentions.”
You knew the right thing to do would be to walk away and ignore how he was antagonizing you. But a tiny voice in the back of your head kept reminding you that you were good, that you had earned your place here. That you needed to show him that. 
No, you didn’t.
Yes, you did.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, placing yourself in the middle of the mat. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
Boone laughed, standing in front of you. He scanned you over again. “Scenario. You’re in the field, there’s a civilian who needs medical attention. You’re alone with them as everyone else explores the area for threats. But, it's night time, it was a busy bit of action and –” Boone reached over and pulled your glasses off. “And you lost your glasses in the chaos.”
Before you could protest about the logistics of this stupid scenario, he threw them to the side.
You shook your head and immediately stepped back. “What the fuck?”
“Maybe you should have worn your contacts today.” He replied and this time, there was something more at the edge of his words. Something unsettling.
This was a bad idea. But he was waiting for you to reply, to call his bluff and tap out. You growled to yourself and stayed.
“The civilian has a broken limb so you’re on the ground beside them.” Without even hesitating he placed both his hands on your shoulders and shoved you down to your knees.
None of this made any lick of sense. This wasn’t a scenario you’d end up in. You wouldn’t be alone or you’d call for backup.
He continued without a second thought, moving to stand behind you, placing his hand on the crown of your head. “And someone comes at you from behind – now you’re compromised and so is your civilian.”
You sat there on your knees, chock still. A red flashing light was going off in your mind but for some reason, you stayed.
A low, grumbly laugh escaped him. “See? Not only are you a terrible nurse but you have no fucking instinct—”
You immediately swung your leg up to hook behind him, not sending him down to the ground but gaining enough of your own momentum to plot out your next move. Planting a foot, you lunged forward and grabbed his waist, pulling him towards the mat.
That really set off whatever anger had been simmering in him. The next thing you saw was the training mat as your face and torso were being shoved against it. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your shouting felt useless as your body writhed under his weight. Your cheek dragged across the plastic mat as you moved, burning against your skin. “Get off of me, you—”
“Defend. Yourself.” Boone barked back, adjusting to grab your arm. He gripped your elbow, then twisted your wrist behind your back. A jolt of pain rushed down your shoulder. “Took me a few days but then I remembered your face.”
You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please just stop. What is—why are you—”
“Three of my friends, my brothers – you ruined their lives, you know that? They lost all their job prospects, they have fuck all left because of what you did. You know, we need that stuff - to keep up with supersoldiers. There is nothing fucking wrong with some pharmaceutical help. If I’m backing up Captain America, I deserve the boost.” With his knee pressing against your back, he leveraged himself to sit up a bit straighter. But his grip on your wrist remained, growing tighter and tighter. “If you had just turned the other way and ignored those tests—”
“I was doing my job,” you mumbled back at him. “They were the ones who broke the rules and—”
His voice hadn’t quite grown to shouting but the intensity grew. “And you are the one who suffers now, alright? And you sure as hell aren’t joining the field team. I’m going to make sure of it.”
---
All Bucky wanted to do when they got back to the compound was text you. It was late Sunday night but he didn’t care.
After the grueling week he and Sam had, Bucky took comfort in knowing soon enough he’d get to see you. He wanted to know about everything from last week - from training to everyday life, he just wanted to talk to you. Crossing the threshold from friends to something more was scary but during his long, sleepless nights, you provided a strange sense of comfort to him.
Without doing a dang thing. Just knowing you made him better, inspired him to be better and to be present. 
“Hey,” Sam tugged on Bucky’s arm before he headed to the locker room. “Medical check first. Then you’re free to send your little smiley face emojis to her.”
Bucky grumbled but didn’t have the energy to argue with Sam. The mission had gone well but hadn’t been the smoothest for either of them. While they both returned unharmed, Bucky knew coming down from these sorts of weeks properly was important.
Finally, after a clearance from the nurse and a quick shower - Bucky was turning his phone back on.
He dismissed all the messages from Steve and an Avengers group chat he liked to ignore then finally found his way to his conversation with you. Seeing a slew of your thoughts over the course of the week made him smile.
You: good luck this week - come back in one piece, please <3 
You: made it through day one and two, turns out my five-story walkup apartment is good for my cardio skills after all lol You: remind me of that next time I complain about the stairs
You: day three has proved that I do need to work on my upper body strength You: wanna be my personal trainer? ;)
You: miss you, hope everything is going safely You: this week has really kicked my ass
Your messages did peter off by Friday and although Bucky longed for more, he assumed you were probably just tired after the long week. Plus, the training wasn’t for the light of heart. Sam had shown him the schedule and although it was standard, its intensity was intentional. Not that Bucky doubted you - he knew you’d been preparing as best as you could since you had shown an interest in joining the field team months ago. But that could really exhaust someone by the end of it.
And tomorrow you had to power through a final evaluation with Sam too, so Bucky hoped you got to spend the rest of the weekend resting.
He dropped down onto one of the benches and planned his response.
Bucky: hey doll, made it back safe and sound Bucky: in one piece, I promise :) Bucky: can’t wait to hear about last week, I’m sure you did great Bucky: good luck tomorrow, I’ll come find you after the eval Bucky: sweet dreams 
---
Bucky felt a little bit silly, lingering outside the training gym. At least he wasn’t pacing, that would have been an even worse look. He leaned against the opposite wall to the doors, arms crossed.
Something just felt a bit off for him and, well, finally seeing you would help ease his mind. It was just strange – the lack of communication. Sure, he had sent his message quite late the night before but he assumed he might hear something back from you during the day.
But no, it had been radio silence. He could attribute it to your needing to prepare for your evaluation but that didn’t seem like enough of a justification. In all the times you and he had been friends, you always managed to send a reply.
He would just have to settle for an in person update, following your testing with Sam. Five other agents exited the gym by mid afternoon, but you never showed up at the door. 
Sam did eventually emerge, tapping quickly against his tablet. He came to a halt when he spotted Bucky waiting, arms now tightly locked behind his back.
Bucky looked over Sam’s shoulder, trying to glimpse into the gym before he met his eyes. “How’d she do?”
Sam let out an awkward laugh. “Well, she didn’t show. She sent me an email earlier saying that she was sick.”
Bucky’s brow furrowed slightly. “Oh.” 
“I know, weird. What’s even more weird though is that when I said we could reschedule her for another date, she tapped out.” Sam raised his shoulder to shrug then showed Bucky the screen.
Bucky scanned over the message and frowned. It was true. Your reply to Sam was short, explaining you didn’t want to reschedule and declined any further interest in the field team. That was it. You were out.
“Given how she sent me a five-paragraph essay explaining how excited she was to join the team, this seems out of character.” Sam tucked the screen under his arm and patted Bucky on the shoulder. “Give me an update after you talk to her.”
“What makes you think—”
“Oh, I already see your wheels turning. You’re doing the math on how quickly you can get to her place.” Sam called after him as Bucky turned to leave. “Let her know I can reschedule her anytime!”
---
You knew you couldn’t ignore Bucky forever. It was just.. it felt like too much, thinking of a way to reply. After what happened with Boone on Friday, every single thing in your life felt like climbing the steepest mountain.
It was absurd how quickly things had escalated. You should have just walked away the instant Boone brought up your evaluation. Getting on that mat with him was really fucking stupid and.. here you were.
You could barely remember how you got home Friday – dazed and confused and numb. After Boone finished screaming and you had stopped trying to fight back, you curled up on yourself. You fought back tears over the humiliation and pain, hands shaking as you grabbed your things from the locker room. One ridiculously overpriced cab ride later and you made it home to your studio in Astoria.
Then you cried in the shower and all the way to your bed - where you stayed as long as you possibly could on Saturday, dousing yourself in painkillers just to try and stay asleep.
You knew you needed to go to urgent care, or even just an emergency room - somewhere you could afford the x-ray. You had never broken a bone before but you had seen plenty of hand fractures during your time working in triage. You couldn’t make a fist, your hand was bruising up towards your wrist and the pain was excruciating. The image of Boone stomping on your hand and wrist as you tried to crawl away was imprinted in your mind…
You were stuck on the climb though. The mental battle of trying to figure out the best lie to tell the admitting nurses anywhere was daunting. Christ, how would you explain this?
You had to - you had to tell someone. The way Boone had flown off the handle, how he attacked you verbally and physically, he couldn’t get away with it. You knew the right thing to do but… fuck if you weren’t scared. He had made it pretty clear he’d be keeping an eye on you. And there was no way you’d be able to do your test with Sam now.
If you reported him, you’d probably have to get HR and the police involved and what if he denied everything and—
You ended up in a helpless loop every single time.
Saturday came and went. You only left your apartment to visit the nearest drugstore for a new compression bandage and more pain medication. Sunday passed by just the same. You skipped your normal spin class and barely spent time outside of your bed. 
The pain in your hand was growing worse and worse. You had to use your left hand to send Sam and your manager messages - because even just moving your right hand made your stomach swirl. And the guilt about not responding to Bucky was growing bigger and bigger too. 
How could you explain it? Boone had pressed your buttons and you pushed back and look what happened. How could Bucky be proud of you now?
Your phone had buzzed mid afternoon, just after you were supposed to be doing your session with Sam.
It was Bucky - worried and asking if you needed anything for whatever illness was plaguing you. 
You ignored it.
When he called, you ignored that too.
You were balled up on the end of your couch, eyes glazed over as another episode of your favourite show loaded up on Netflix. You knew you needed to eat something, that the pain medication on an empty stomach was a recipe for disaster. But… you couldn’t get up. Laying perfectly still with a bag of frozen vegetables on your hand was the closest thing to relief you had.
Then, someone was knocking at your door. The noise made you gasp, though you couldn’t move. You could ignore the noise along with everything else. It was probably just your downstairs neighbour back to complain about your TV again and –
Whoever was at the door knocked again, this time calling out your name. 
You recognized the voice.
Bucky.
He called your name out again. “Listen, I don’t care if you’re sick. I just want to make sure you’re alright. I grabbed some soup from that place I was telling you about.”
You sucked in a deep breath and pulled yourself up off the couch. You really, really wanted to see him - just the idea of his smile made everything feel a bit better. But then you couldn’t hide anymore and… hiding felt safe.
“I’m okay,” you finally replied as you got approached. “Feeling better but I might be contagious, Buck.”
You sensed some relief from him as his feet shuffled on the other side of the door. “Sweetheart, I.. I can’t even get sick, okay? I just need to see you.”
“My apartment is a mess.”
“I don’t care.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Bucky, I’m.. I’m not at my best right now.”
“I don’t care.” He said your name once more. “Please.”
You pulled up the hood of your sweatshirt then reluctantly reached for the door knob.
---
When you finally opened the door, Bucky was relieved. But when you immediately turned away to return to your couch without a word, his relief felt misplaced. Something was wrong. Your sudden weekend illness and dropping out of the new job training weren’t adding up to anything that felt good.
He was worried.
Bucky had never been inside your apartment before. There were a handful of occasions after work or some happy hour thing when he dropped you off but this was new. He liked the idea of seeing your home but he wished it had been different circumstances. 
Home was a little studio, with a compact kitchen ahead of him across from the door. Beside it was a cozy living room area separated from the bed and windows, divided by a short bookcase. It was so very you and Bucky wanted nothing more than to just be there with you, scan over the books you like and curl up together on the couch.
But it wasn’t the time to daydream. Instead, he stepped into the kitchen to deposit the takeout bag, retrieving the soup before moving to where you were curling back up in your blankets. 
“How are you feeling?” He took another step closer but stopped when you leaned away from his approach. He took a seat opposite you and extended the container in your direction. 
“Yeah, I’m.. okay,” you replied with a shrug. “Thanks for the soup.” You took it from him, reaching across yourself awkwardly with a shaking hand, and rested it on your lap. 
He took the moment of silence to get a better look at you. Behind your glasses, your eyes were swollen, as if you had been crying. Bucky watched you carefully maneuver the spoon and it wasn’t lost on him you were favouring your left hand. In fact, your right arm was barely moving. 
“Do you need anything else? I could run to the pharmacy..” He trailed off as his eyes shifted to your coffee table, which was littered with an array of pill bottles. Mostly painkillers and what looked like a melting bag of frozen peas. And tucked under the table was… a half empty bottle of wine. Not exactly the type of self medication for a stomach bug or the common cold.
You closed your eyes, taking another taste of the soup before gently moving it to the table. “I think the worst of it has passed. Just.. tired now, I guess. I’ll be back at work tomorrow.” You smiled, just barely, then it disappeared as your eyes shut.
Bucky considered that the perfect opportunity to change the subject. Your name left his lips. It was quiet. You peaked one eye open to look at him.
“What happened last week?” he asked.
You laughed, though it came out quite empty. “Just five very intense, rigorous training days. I wasn’t great but.. I managed, I guess.” 
Bucky cut to the chase, though he couldn’t predict your reaction. “So how come you’re not doing the final evaluation?” 
A long sigh escaped you, rolling your eyes before leaning back again. You stared at the ceiling. “Should I just start adding you to all my correspondence with Sam?”
“Don’t be mad at Sam,” Bucky replied. “I asked him and he only told me because he was worried.”
You laughed again, with more of your body. The same emptiness remained and this time it seemed to cause you pain. You winced, swallowing an uncomfortable look on your face as you turned to peer at him. “I’m not mad at Sam. I’m mad at..” You shook your head. “At myself, I guess.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t matter, alright? It’s over and I missed today and–”
“Sam offered to resch–”
“Bucky, it doesn’t matter!” You snapped this time, cutting him off. 
Bucky shook his head. Something else was going on. He had never seen you like this before - despondent and… broken. Sure, your friendship had rarely escaped the walls of work but the foundation between you both was solid. He had seen your ups and downs, and you had seen his too - recalling bad dates and ranting about missions and laughing over lunch and all of it. 
He knew you. The person sitting across from him, it wasn’t you. 
“Sweetheart, please tell me what’s going on.” 
Your eyes were closed again, head shaking. “Nothing is..” Your lip trembled. “Maybe you should just go..”
Bucky stood from the couch, but he didn’t move to the door. Instead, he crouched right in front of you. “If that’s what you really want, I’ll go, okay? I’d never stay if you didn’t want me here. But you opened that door for me. You could have already sent me away, soup in hand. I’m here right now because I care about you.” He said your name again, like a plea for you to look at him. “I can help, okay? Whatever is going on, I can help. Let me help, please.”
Your breath picked up, intertwined with winces of pain as you adjusted on the couch. You crossed your legs then moved your arms carefully, using your left hand to tear away your sweatshirt. Finally, you opened your eyes and extended your right arm to Bucky.
Despite being wrapped in a compression bandage, the swelling was evident on your fingers. Bruises littered your hand too and continued upwards to your t-shirt line. 
Bucky dropped to his knees, looking from your face down towards your arm. He whispered out your name, desperately trying not to fill in the blanks without getting more information from you. “What happened?”
You simply shook your head, swallowing whatever response was trying to escape. 
“Can I–” He motioned to your hand, cautiously reaching for it. You didn’t move, allowing him to unwrap the bandaging. You winced at the touch and change in pressure, eyes clamping shut again as you breathed deeply. 
Bucky skated his fingers along the side of your forearm, down towards your wrist and hand. Light shades of purple and blue decorated your skin but the swelling was what concerned Bucky the most. 
“I’m worried something is broken.” You finally said quietly, letting out another groan of pain as Bucky flipped your hand over to assess the underside. 
He wanted to reply with ‘yeah, no shit’ but figured that wouldn’t be helpful. If you hadn’t sought out medical attention by now, there was probably a good reason. You were smart, a nurse who could easily figure out her own symptoms. But something was stopping you. Embarrassment, guilt.. Maybe fear? 
Bucky was gentle as he held your hand. Christ, his mind was racing. “What happened? Did you fall? Did something go wrong last week?”
You shook your head.
Although there was one giant fucking obvious glaring answer to his next question, Bucky wanted to hear your response. Maybe you had fallen or dropped something on it this weekend. Maybe you had crushed it between a door or something, anything else than someone hurting you. Because the thought of anyone doing that, inflicting any intentional harm –
Bucky sucked in a breath and looked back at you. Your lower lip was already trembling again. He had to ask. He didn’t want to, but he fucking had to.
“Sweetheart, who did this to you?”
“I should have walked away, Bucky. I..” You immediately trailed off, head shaking again as you tried to collect yourself. 
With you, Bucky would be patient. He would always be patient. A few moments ticked by as he waited, still holding your injured hand in his. 
“It was supposed to just be a routine scenario, a test sort of thing I guess. But he was… he was volcanic. The anger erupted and he - he.. Bucky, I was just doing my job, it’s not my fault his friends lost theirs an-and he got so mad. I tried to get away but he just kept going.”
He said your name quietly. “Take a deep breath for me, okay?” You did, breathing in tandem with him a few times as you steadied yourself. “You’ve gotta tell me a name, please.”
After another deep breath, you nodded. “It was Boone.” You closed your eyes. “I think he’s taking drugs, steroids–again and he just.. I shouldn’t have engaged him at all. And I tried to get away once I realized he was freaking out..”
Bucky stilled, lips pulled into a straight line. “Hey, look at me.” He waited for you to meet his gaze. “This isn’t your fault.” God, he wanted to say so much more but the simmering anger below the surface was bubbling up. And that wasn’t important. You needed an x-ray and real medical attention. Then, maybe he could face the rage coursing through his bones. “Sweetheart, we’ve gotta get this looked at, okay?”
Reluctantly, your head shook. “I know. I just.. I don’t want to have to go to urgent care and explain what happened. I should have already gone and I feel so stupid about the whole thing and-and–”
He placed his free hand on your knee to stop you. “Okay. It's okay. I think I know where we can go. Let me make a few phone calls.”
---
PART 2
471 notes · View notes
bookyeom · 3 months
Text
to care for you — lc
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pairing: dino x reader word count: 4.4k warnings: mention of blood and injuries, mention of fainting, swearing, hurt and comfort, kissing request prompt: Okay so tumblr ate my ask 😭 but this is in response to @darkypooo’s request for Dino + “do you want to kiss?” “Yeah.”
Author’s Note: Yes, this is a Spiderman AU — but you don’t need to know much other than the bare minimum about the Spiderman universe to understand the story :) It’s set in college instead of high school, though. I’m actually so, so proud of this one, and I hope you like it!
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Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I’m doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
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He‘s exhausted. 
It’s an exhaustion that’s begun to seep deep into his bones lately, but it feels extra heavy tonight. After a not-so-brief brush-up with some bad guys, he’s hurting in places that he didn’t know existed — even after all of his years spent studying science. He can’t remember the last time he got this hurt — to the point where even breathing is hard. All he wants to do right now is give up. He’s not sure what good he’s doing out there, anyway.
He’s exhausted, and he’s hurting all over, and honestly? All he wants to do is see you. 
He feels like that a lot these days.
He knows he’s not supposed to want you like he does, to need you like he does — for so many reasons. First and foremost, because you’re one of his closest friends — his confidante (in everything not Spiderman related, anyway), his safe place. You’re his friend, and friends aren’t supposed to love each other the way he loves you. Besides, he’s Spiderman. He’s not supposed to need anyone at all. In this line of business, feelings are a weakness.
You, thankfully, have no clue about his alter ego… or his feelings.
Well, at least you didn’t know about the superhero part. Until now, when he drags himself into his room and you’re there, curled up in his bed. He thinks he must be hallucinating. He’s too out of it to really register it at first, but then your eyes meet his from where you’re sitting up against his headboard, duvet pulled up to your chin, and he’s frozen. You blink back at him in the dim light of his room, your face lit up solely by the lamp on his bedside table.
“Chan?”
Your voice is small — so quiet that he thinks without his heightened senses he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. He can’t think straight enough to really process that his mask is off — he must have dropped it somewhere between the living room and here. All he can register before he’s stumbled back and slumped into his desk chair, eyes screwed shut from all the pain, is that you don’t look nearly as scared as he thought you would. Then everything goes black.
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There’s a warm pressure against his jaw and his cheeks. 
He slowly comes to as he registers the feeling, struggling to open his eyes and find the source of the sensation. He can hear a faint voice call his name, once, twice, and when his eyes finally manage to flutter open just a little, he’s met with your concerned gaze.
“Fuck. Hi,” you mumble, and he blinks. The pure worry in your voice helps to bring him back to earth a little bit more, and he tries desperately to clear his head. How long was he out?
“Why…” He tries to speak but fails, his voice weak and his throat hoarse. 
Why are you here? 
He sees you wince when he tries to move, to shift into a more comfortable position even though he knows nothing will be comfortable right now, and your head is suddenly shaking back and forth so fast that it almost gives him whiplash.
“Don’t move,” you tell him, and he dazedly wonders why you don’t sound mad. Or frustrated. Or anything but concerned, really. He’s confused, his mind swirling even more as he tries to understand why your hands are holding his face like that. Hadn’t he kept things a secret from you for far too long to warrant your concern? Don’t you hate him now?
“I don’t know what’s going on,” you say, and Chan fights the urge to try and speak again, to blurt out everything that he’s wanted to tell you since he met you. Oblivious to his inner turmoil, you hastily continue, “but you have to tell me how to help you, Chan.”
His eyes flutter shut once more at the sound of his name coming from your lips, and he feels your thumb brush against his jaw. 
“Chan,” you say again, and you sound more panicked this time, so he does his best to calm you down. 
“Off.”
You blink at him again as he finally speaks. You’re not sure what he means, and you’re desperate to know, because you can’t look at him in pain like this any longer without doing something to help.
“Off,” he repeats hoarsely, and your eyes widen as you hastily remove your hands from his face.
“Shit, sorry!” Your eyes frantically wander across his face, searching for any damage your fingers might have caused. “I don’t know where you’re hurting, I didn’t mean to—“
As you babble on, all he can do is shake his head minutely. That’s not what he meant. The last thing he wanted right now was for you to take your hands off of him. He manages to lift a hand to press gently against his side, where a dark stain has formed. He glances down at where the material is clinging to his skin before looking back up at you. 
“Oh!” You reply, realization dawning on your face. You try to hide the flush of your cheeks. “Can you stand up to move to the bed so I can help? If not, I can—“
Already, he’s attempting to move, desperate to make any of this easier for you. He wants to apologize, to say he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know exactly what for. For not telling you? For you having to see him like this? 
You help him stand, his arm reaching to rest on your shoulders as you do. You can tell he’s trying not to hurt you with his weight, and you almost laugh — how very Chan of him. You’re grateful that in the shock of survival mode, you’ve managed to avoid for now the way you know your heart is going to break when you register seeing soft, kind, selfless Chan beaten down like this. 
Cry tomorrow, is the message your brain is sending. Figure it out tomorrow. Right now, you need to help him.
“I’m strong,” you try to joke, though it’s a weak attempt, and Chan looks at you in confusion. “You can put your weight on me,” you elaborate quietly. He understands and gives you a sheepish smile, before doing as told, though you know he doesn’t want to. 
The two of you maneuver the few steps to the edge of his bed. Chan hisses involuntarily at the pain as he sits down, and you whisper soft apologies, though he has no idea why. Once he’s down, you immediately get to work, reaching behind him to find the zipper at the top of his suit. You manage to get it down as smoothly as possible, your eyes falling to where Chan is still clutching at his side.
“This part is going to hurt like a bitch,” you tell him softly.
“That’s okay,” he says. “It always does.”
You freeze for a moment from where you were about to begin to slide the suit off of his shoulders, but Chan doesn’t seem to realize what he’s said. You feel a sharp pain in your chest as his words replay, and you blink back tears, taking a moment to steel yourself. 
It always hurts.
You don’t respond, your fingers beginning to move again, and you’re surprised that they’re not shaking. Chan shivers when your fingers brush against his skin as you begin to slide the suit over his arms and off. You ease him out of the material on his uninjured side first, before coming around to the front of him and crouching down. You meet his eyes, his brown ones clouded over with pain, and your fingers gently reach to rest on top of his hand that’s still clutching his side. You give it a squeeze and he nods in understanding, closing his eyes tight, and you help him remove his fingers from the wound. You stand back up, and begin to pull the rest of the suit down his side and to his waist. Chan barely lets out so much as a whimper when you peel the rest of the material off of him. 
His lack of reaction is not what surprises you the most, though. The biggest surprise comes when you reach the spot on his side where you know a sickening amount of blood should be, and you find that it’s all dried — and that the wound has already begun to heal over. 
Huh?
Your brain can’t compute it. You glance up at him in complete confusion, but his head is hung low, and your heart breaks enough to distract you from all of the questions you want to ask. You force yourself to push the confusing mess of thoughts away until later. You can’t think about any of that right now. You can’t. 
“Chan?” Is what you say instead, knowing that you need to keep him awake enough to help him clean up, long enough to know he’s alright. Your hands are on his knees as you kneel between his legs and peer up at him. You have to stop yourself from reaching out to trace the newly-forming scars on his chest and arms, wanting nothing more than to kiss each mark and its associated pain away. You desperately want to know what happened, who hurt him like this, but you’re not sure you can handle it. You briefly register the older, faded scars that mark his skin, unsure of where they end and the new ones begin. 
You can’t figure it out — in front of you sits Chan, but it can’t be the Chan you know. It can’t be the one who giggles at your stupid jokes or falls asleep in your 8am lectures, or the one who remembers your coffee order every single time. The one who you swore had never fought with anyone in his life. The Chan in front of you looks so broken that you can’t put the two of them together. 
“You… okay?”
Your eyes shoot up to meet his again as he speaks, voice cracking and hoarse. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest as he attempts to look down at you, his eyes hooded over and half closed with the effort. He looks like he’s about to fall over, and still, he’s asking if you’re okay.
You’re hit so hard with sudden emotion that it causes you to inhale sharply without warning. Your hand lifts involuntarily to brush his hair back from where it’s falling into his eyes, and as he continues to try and hold your gaze, you register it all. This Chan is still your Chan. It’s the same Chan that has stirred feelings inside your chest that you were certain you could never feel again. The Chan whose intelligence and kindness still astounds you every single day. This Chan and your Chan are the same.
Your head spins.
When you finally make it to the bathroom, it’s all Chan can do to slouch down onto his bathroom floor. You help him out of the rest of his suit before crouching down beside him, wracking your brain for everything you’ve ever learned about cleaning wounds. You remain numb as he gives you single-word answers to where things are in his bathroom. It’s funny — you’ve been in his apartment so many times, but you’ve never needed to know where the antiseptic was. 
Chan’s eyes remain half-open as you work. He’s fighting with all his might, you can tell, and you can feel his eyes on you the whole time. You don’t think his gaze leaves you even once. It becomes monotonous: you clean the cut, he winces, you apologize. And repeat. Your mind wanders in what you’re sure is an attempt to protect yourself.
You’d come over tonight for your weekly movie night, letting yourself in with the code you’d long since been given access to. When hours had passed with no sign of Chan and no texts from him either, your heart had broken a little — had he forgotten? Was he okay? It was so unlike him that you’d stayed just in case, your heart racing with every little noise as you waited. 
You hate so much that your worst fears had come true.
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Chan’s pain seems to ease in record time, bruises forming on his skin faster than you’ve ever seen. You have so many questions, but you push it all down, down, down. He falls asleep on his couch and you stay up all night, blanket pulled around your shoulders as you sit on the windowsill and make sure he’s still breathing. 
He wakes as the sun is beginning to rise, and you watch as he shifts to sit up, letting out a breath of what sounds like relief when he’s able to move without much trouble. Some of the cuts on his face and chest are already scabbed over. 
How?
When his eyes finally land on you, he jumps a little.
“Hi.”
”You didn’t sleep.”
It’s an observation rather than a question. You pull your knees up and rest your chin on them. “I was worried.”
It’s quiet, and he doesn’t know what to say. Neither do you.
“Well,” he clears his throat. “I’m glad you stayed.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is small, and he immediately feels guilty.
“I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what he expects you to do, what he expects you to say. You level him with your gaze, searching his face. Your eyes linger on the scabbed-over cut just above his brow, and you bite your lip before you speak again.
“It was…” You can feel your lower lip start to tremble in an act of betrayal, and you bite down on it to try and stop yourself from crying. “It was terrifying to see you like that, Chan,” you finally manage, and you know that after all these hours, the dam is about to break. You can tell he knows it, too, by the way his brows furrow even more, and his eyes widen just slightly.
“I know,” he murmurs, and that’s what does it.
Your hands move to cover your face as you finally let yourself cry, sobs muffled by your palms. You can hear the couch creak as Chan moves, and you can feel his presence as soon as he’s close. He whispers your name once, his voice breaking, and when he moves your hands away from your face, you don’t have the strength to stop him. He’s sitting next to you on the windowsill now. You sniffle, eyes looking anywhere but at him. Chan holds onto your wrists, rubbing gentle circles against the skin. 
“I’m so mad at you,” you finally say, and he lets go of your hands. He doesn’t retreat to his side of the window though, staying put as he nods, chewing on his bottom lip as he looks down.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he says, voice quiet. “I hope you understand why I couldn’t… but you still have every right to be pissed at me.”
It’s silent, and you stare at him in disbelief. There are so many thoughts running through your head, and it takes you a moment to settle on just one. “You think I’m mad because you didn’t tell me that you were Spiderman?” You finally say, causing him to look at you again in surprise.
“I mean, yeah? Why else—“
“I’m mad,” you emphasize, “because you’re out there getting hurt, and my heart literally can’t take the thought of that, oh my god, Chan.” Your voice breaks, and fuck, you’re about to cry again, but you can’t stop. Your eyes trace over his face, pausing where the bruise is starting to form on his cheek, and you feel frustration begin to build again as you angrily blink back tears. “What the fuck, Chan. Why the hell are you… I mean, if I hadn’t been able to help you last night, I wouldn’t — I just, I can’t even imagine—“
Your words are cut off as Chan’s hands find the side of your face. His gaze is firm as he looks at you, and his sudden boldness catches you off guard, your words dying in your throat. Once he seems to realize that you’re not going to run, his thumb moves to caress your jaw, and you can’t help the shiver that spreads through you at the gentle touch. Your hands lift to rest on his arms where they’re holding you, and you’re speechless, your eyes unable to leave his. He takes in a deep breath, and you follow.
“I’m here,” he says, and you draw in another shaky breath. You don’t think he’s ever been this forward with you before, but you’re grateful for it. He’s warm, and he’s here. He’s alive.You’re torn between wanting to never leave his side again, and needing desperately to be away from him so that you can think.
“I think it might be good for me to go now that I know you’re okay,” you say softly after a moment, and you can see the hurt that briefly shadows his eyes. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, though, and he nods, removing his hands from your face. 
“I understand.”
“And I… I probably need some time.”
He nods again, and your heart breaks at the thought of leaving him, but you have to. For now. Your feet feel leaden as you get up, going through the motions as you grab your backpack from the hook by his door. You barely register putting on your shoes, your mind on autopilot until it’s broken by his voice from just behind you.
“Y/N?”
Your name coming from his lips feels like a punch to the gut, and you almost reach out for him again, but you hold firm.
”Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. Can you just…” he sucks in a breath. “Can you please not tell anyone? About, you know—”
His words hit like a ton of bricks. You cut him off, expression full of silent fury at the insinuation. “Yeah. I won’t.” 
You’re pissed that he even had to ask, and he knows it, but there’s nothing else he can do. His secret is more important than anything — he just wishes it didn’t have to be more important than you. 
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It takes three days for you to end up back at his door. He’s missed all of your shared college courses so far this week, and you’re worried. You’re terrified, actually, and you need to see him.
When he opens the door, you do a double take. It’s almost like nothing happened to him at all. The bruises and cuts are barely-there, and you’re reminded of the miles-long list of questions you have stored in the back of your brain. He’s surprised to see you, you can tell, and he blinks slowly before stepping aside to let you in.
“How are you?” You level him with raised eyebrows as you take off your shoes, and he nods, biting his lip. “Yeah, I know. I was worried that—“
“I didn’t tell anyone,” you interrupt. “Don’t worry.” You look down, your heart twisting painfully in your chest when you remember the words he’d said to you. ‘Can you please not tell anyone?’ You cross your arms as you head over to the living room, but you don’t sit down. You don’t really know what your plan had been — you’d just needed to see him. 
“Oh,” comes his soft reply before he adds, “I mean… I didn’t really think that you would.”
Your eyes briefly meet his across the room, confused, before you recover and look back down at the floor. “So then what were you worried about?”
You can feel his gaze intent on your face. “You.”
Your breath catches and your eyes swiftly meet his again. You blink. “Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Chan,” you say after a moment, trying to push down the bubble of irritation you feel building in your chest. “You didn’t even text me once.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he says quietly, “You said that you needed time.”
“To process, yes! But you didn’t even text me that you were okay. I was worried about you, Chan. Why would you be worried about me? I’m not the one coming through your window and fainting from injury, now am I?”
You can see the guilt flicker across his face. “I know,” he says, and then he suddenly feels the need to apologize again. “I’m sorry that I didn’t message you, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.” He pauses. “Ever again, maybe.”
You can hear the sadness in his voice, and your heart breaks. You feel the anger in you start to dissipate as he looks away from you. Your eyes catch on the barely-there faded scar across his eyebrow, and your mind is filled with painful memories of the Chan you’d seen that night. 
“You’re so fucking stupid, Chan.” 
He knows. But judging by the way you sit down on his couch instead of storming out again, he thinks that somehow, his stupidity has already been forgiven. 
It’s quiet as he joins you. You can feel him looking at you, and when you can’t take it anymore, you look back at him pointedly. He blushes, quickly looking away when your eyes meet. You sigh, your head falling into the back of the couch before you turn and curl up against it, your eyes drifting shut. 
"Is that my sweater?" 
Your eyes shoot open, and it's as if he's finally grown the courage to look at you directly again now. His brown eyes search yours, and he motions to the shirt you're wearing. You look down — even though you know he's right — and your cheeks are on fire. You’re wearing the sweater he’d leant you forever ago on a cold night for your walk home — the one you’d never returned. You slept in it almost every night, and he hadn’t asked for it back. 
"Keeps me warm," you mumble, tugging on the hem. It's silent for a beat before you continue, voice even quieter than before. You pause, ruminating on your next words before you take a deep breath and say, “The last few nights, wearing it kind of made me feel like you were safe.”
You can hear his intake of breath before he says, soft, “Are you mad at me?”
You shake your head, because you’re not. You’re scared, stressed, worried sick — but you’re not mad. Not anymore. “No, Chan.”
The nickname sends a flood of relief through him more than your actual reply does. 
“I’m not mad,” you continue, “because of course you’re Spiderman. Of course you’re putting yourself in danger trying to protect others. I love how selfless you are, Lee Chan — I always have. But me? I’m selfish. And I’m scared to death of losing you.”
All he says, all he can say, is, “I’m scared, too.”
You look at him again now. You search his face as you ask, “Of what?”
“Of getting hurt. Of… of losing you, too.”
Your heart is suddenly beating so fast you think it might soon break free from your rib cage. You don’t know why you say it, because you’ve already got his undivided attention, but his name comes out breathlessly anyway. “Chan?” 
“Yeah?” He’s looking at you with those beautiful, big, questioning eyes, and you can’t help it. 
“I think it might be a terrible time for me to say this,” you blurt out, “but I — Chan, I’m in love with you.”
Silence.
Chan blinks.
“Wait, what?”
Your face flushes, and it’s your turn to look away. “Sorry,” you murmur.
“No, don’t — oh my god. What?”
You’re not sure what he wants from you. You’re embarrassed now, pulling your knees up to your chest in a feeble attempt to protect yourself from your feelings. Your face is flushed as you turn to look out the window, and you can almost hear Chan’s brain buffering as he remains silent.
“Do you mean that?”
“Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?” Your voice comes out a bit harsher than you intend it to, but you don’t take it back. 
“I…” He trails off. He doesn’t say anything more, and the quiet is almost deafening. You’re finding it a little harder to breathe as the seconds pass, and you wrack your brain for something, anything to say to fill the stifling silence.  
“I’m going to go,” is what comes out, and then you’re standing up so abruptly that you feel a little dizzy. The scene is familiar — you, running from what you’re feeling, running from him. 
“Wait,” he blurts out, and you do. You pause in spite of everything in you that’s begging you to run, and then he says, “Can I… I mean, do you want to… kiss?”
You turn back, eyes wide. It’s such a ridiculous question, such an innocent thing for him to ask in light of everything that’s happened in the last few days — but it’s so Chan that you almost forget about it all. This is probably a bad idea, you both know that — and you don’t care. You don’t know how this is going to work, but you’ll figure it out. 
Because it’s your Chan — the one who cares so much, the one who gives you hope, the one who wants nothing but for the world to be a better place.
“I mean — I love you too,” he says into the silence, and you realize that you haven’t given him an answer.
“Yes,” you breathe out before he can panic. “Fuck. I have so many questions, but first, yes. Yes, I want to kiss you, Lee Chan.”
You can hardly believe the giggle and shy smile he sends your way before he kisses you breathless. 
Yeah, you think to yourself as he pulls back, as your fingers lift to gently trace the barely-there bruise on his cheek, as he leans into the warmth of your hand. As you think about how he’s been doing all of this — trying to change the world — alone.
Yeah, you think. You’ll figure it out. 
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TAGLIST: @waldau @minisugakoobies @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @wqnwoos @wheeboo @christinewithluv @lvlystars @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @iluvseokmin @seohomrwolf @pan-de-seungcheol @bewoyewo @kyeomkyeomi @mingyuscoffee @harry-the-pottypus @lightprincess-world @icyminghao @bella-l @darkypooo
875 notes · View notes
drak3n · 10 months
Text
ELECTRICIAN!TOJI
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CONTENT WARNINGS: fwb to lovers trope, fluff, smut, he fucks you in your kitchen, single dad!toji, he’s a little possessive, reader is implied to be a bit younger than him (5+years)
sena’s note: i was going to write mechanic!toji first but changed my mind after seeing too much of that on tumblr. tattoo artist/piercer!choso is up next!
MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST
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➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who was going to enjoy a saturday home with his preschooler, having told his employer specifically that he wasn’t going to take any jobs today
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ended up getting an onslaught of calls by said employer anyway and nearly slammed his fist into his phone screen if it wasn’t for megumi sitting next to him and watching a cartoon on the tv
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who grimly pulled up to your house in his car with megumi sitting in the back, carrying a toolbox in one hand and holding megumi’s hand with the other
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI whose scowl faltered at the sight of you opening the door, looking nervous yet thankful at the same time; who couldn’t deny that your little smile tugged at his heartstrings
“i’m so sorry, sir. i wouldn’t have insisted for your employer to send someone if i had known—”
this was the fifth time in a row you’d apologized to the man while he was busy checking your outlets and wirings. he had immediately noted that the outlets you were using were burning hot, his nose picking up on a faint burning smell you were somehow oblivious of.
megumi was seated on your couch, kicking his chubby legs as he chewed on a chocolate bar you had handed him after his daddy agreed.
“it’s good that you insisted, ma’am. check this out,” his gruff voice cut you off as he beckoned you over with his finger to check behind a loose outlet in your bedroom. you gasped as you bent over, just to see a cable inside the outlet that was severely melted and had darkened in color. “that… i never plugged anything in that lately. how did that happen?”
toji set his toolbox down on the floor next to the outlet, shaking his head at how the outlets were wired in this apartment. whoever was here last, or at all, had done a shitty ass job, that was for sure. “when’s the last time you had an electrician over?”
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who gaped when you told him you never hired an electrician ever since you had moved into this place, which was a little over two years ago
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who felt bad about the state your place was in and how clueless you were, and did something he never thought he’d do — pausing when he spotted your leaking tab in the kitchen, and fixing it as well without expecting anything in exchange, earning himself a million words of gratitude
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who noticed how sweet you were to megumi, offering him snacks and talking to him about school and his friends, and who soon found out that you worked with children
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who left your place the same evening after having denied a hefty tip — something he had never done once in his life — and having gotten invited to come over for dinner next saturday along with his little boy to repay him with a homemade, nice meal =)
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who found himself coming over more often, with or without megumi, and whenever it was the latter, it ended with him being balls-deep inside of you at some point
“t—toji, r—right there! fuck, so good!”
the older, bulky man took it as a sign to dive his hips harder into your tiny body as he bent you over the kitchen counter. he could tell you had never really been satisfied by a man before. it was no wonder; men your age just couldn’t do it the way an experienced and older man like him could.
the harsh fabric of his work pants rubbed against your bare ass with every thrust, and you mewled and squealed as his thick cock hit that one spot inside of you repeatedly.
“mhm? say what, princess?” his veiny, calloused, huge hands were on either side of your head and your hole tightened embarrassingly at that. toji was a sexy man, and he fucking knew it. guys your age could never compare to who was rearranging your guts right now.
“never… never had a dick as—good as yours!” you were sobbing at this point, delirious from the pleasure he was giving you. “n—no one ever fucked me this— shit! ‘m cumming!”
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who explicitly told you he wasn’t the type to commit, that he was the type to hook up and move on; and who was first delighted that you didn’t seem to mind fucking with no strings attached either
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who soon grew displeased when he came over one day to see a shirt that was not his (it was obviously too small for his muscular built) in your room
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who never fucked you any rougher than he did on that day, and who didn’t even look into your face once
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who stopped visiting you in hopes of forgetting you, knowing it was just him thinking with his dick whenever you crossed his mind, who denied having actually grown fond of a woman’s entire being and not just her pussy
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who begrudgingly came to the realization that he couldn’t look at other women the same anymore after he met you; who would always lower his gaze when other female clients who were obviously attracted to him tried to show off their bodies or charm him, which left him cold and unaffected
➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ditched his useless pride for once and showed up in front of your door one noon to take you out properly, and not spend time in your shitty and malfunctioning apartment
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starsinmylatte · 7 months
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Be Our Girl?
If you saw Tumblr immediately flag this, no, you didn't.
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This is the first request I received as part of my JJK Fic Readers Supporting Noury event. There are still slots open, so please click the link for more info!
Thank you to @enchantedsylveon for their support and the wonderful request 💜. I went way over the word count because I got possessed by the spirit of horny. Forgive me 😅
Pairing: Geto x Gojo x afab!reader (aka SatoSugu x afab!reader) Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI) Word Count: 6.8k Request: Morally grey, obsessive pleasure doms Gojo and Geto take care of their girl while she's on her period.
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Warnings are found below the cut!
A/N: This is my first time writing a threesome AND my first time writing for both of these characters....... So, Leeeeeroy Jenkins!
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Warnings (besides what it says on the request): Use of pet names (princess, baby, etc), references to mental health issues, multiple sex positions, dacryphilia, cursing, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, cum eating, banter during sex, breeding kink, cervix fucking, deepthroating, praise and light degradation, y'all get the gist this is some filth (affectionate)
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It was early one morning, far too early for any sane person to be awake as you sat on a couch, trapped between your two long-time friends. On one end of the couch, Satoru Gojo pouted and stared out the nearby window, nursing a can of soda like it was hard liquor. Geto Suguru occupied the other end, glaring at the wall like he wanted to burn a hole through it. He was doing his damnedest to avoid paying his best friend any attention as you sat between the two men, grumbling under your breath. You were unlucky enough to be quite literally in the middle of their dispute. 
The two young men had been fighting so much recently, and it had honestly hurt your heart to see. Their bickering had affected their efforts in school, nearly destroyed both of their mental health, and strained their relationship to a breaking point. Shoko had advised you to leave it alone, saying the boys needed to figure it out on their own or just fuck already, but as their other best friend, you just couldn’t take much more of it. Especially when Satoru made a habit of coming over at three A.M. to complain about Suguru. 
Funnily enough, that was precisely what had led to the current situation. Satoru had shown up, knocked so hard that he nearly broke your door down in the process, and shoved his way inside your apartment despite your many protests. 
Now, there were multiple reasons why his visit was horribly timed. The first would’ve been immediately evident if the strongest sorcerer wasn’t so preoccupied. You were wincing in pain when you answered the door, clutching a hot water bottle to your lower stomach, and Gojo had been too oblivious to notice. He simply brushed past you, already ranting as he headed directly for your plush couch. 
“‘Toru, wait-“ 
“That emo bastard can’t get it through his thick skull that we’re supposed to be friends. He-” Satoru paused mid-rant as the emo bastard in question sat up on your couch, groaning. Suguru had been fast asleep until now, and the raven-haired man looked pissed that he had been woken up. 
The deep circles under Suguru’s eyes had only grown more exaggerated in the past few days, and his long, beautiful raven hair was a tangled mess. You could see the weariness he carried creep under his skin more and more, and it honestly terrified you. Suguru had confided in you that he could barely sleep anymore, and like the good friend you were, you offered for him to sleep on your couch, hoping the proximity to a close friend would help ease his mind. 
“You’d better be talking about someone else,” Suguru hissed at Gojo, dark eyes flashing with anger as you slammed the heel of your hand against your head.
“I can already feel another migraine coming,” you muttered under your breath. “‘Satoru, as I was trying to say, you may want to come back later because I. already. have. company.”
You punctuated your words with brief pauses, not even bothering to try and hide the annoyance in your tone.  Gojo pursed his lips dramatically, rolling his eyes. He immediately turned on his heel to leave, but you beat him to the door. “Oh, no. You didn’t listen to me, so you get to stay. I am not in the mood for this to be a revolving door today.”  
He opened his mouth to argue, but one look from you silenced him. You motioned for Geto to scoot over on the couch, and the sleep-deprived man shot you an incredulous look as Gojo pilfered a soda from your fridge. 
Nearly thirty minutes of awkward silence had passed between the three of you on the couch before you’d finally had enough. You had been trying to be a good, patient friend, but this morning was the absolute last straw.  For half of the previous night, you’d been curled up in a ball with the most abysmal cramps, completely unable to sleep. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, you had drifted off… only to be woken up by Gojo thirty minutes later. Your cramps were still coming in awful waves, and no medication was helping. You simply wanted to melt into the floor, but you were being forced to babysit two of the strongest jujutsu sorcerers who had ever lived while they behaved like petulant children. 
A particularly harsh cramp had you gritting your teeth, barely able to speak as you forced two words past your lips. “That’s enough.” 
Both of your companions’ heads whipped around, and you felt the weight of two completely different gazes. One was ice-cold, and the second felt like scorched earth; they were polar opposites, but each held the same intense gravity. 
“The two of you are going to talk this out. This all passed ridiculous a long time ago.” You continued, gesturing around dramatically with one hand, holding up the other to silence the noises of protest that left both men. Your throat felt dry and raw with anger. All of the frustration and pain in your body had coalesced into a single, white-hot ball of emotion, which was currently clawing its way out of your throat with a vengeance. 
“I’m not finished. Geto Suguru, I want you to feel better, but you have to open up to us. If you keep all your emotions bottled up, you’re going to go insane one day and start a cult or something.” 
Geto looked down at his folded hands, clearly a bit stunned by your outburst. Normally, something like this would’ve never happened. You were always such a caring, sweet girl, and you had never lost your temper in front of either man. Both Gojo and Geto instantly knew that they’d fucked up for you to be this viscerally angry and use their full names at the same time. You had never called them anything other than their first names for the many years you’d been friends.
“And you, Gojo Satoru, need to calm down and try to understand your best friend more. The two of you need to actually talk. You’ve just expected Suguru to come to you for help all this time, but you could also reach out first.” Gojo had the decency to blush in embarrassment, setting his soda can down on a coaster while you scolded him.
You stood rather abruptly, intending to leave the two men to sulk while you crawled back into your warm bed, but you forgot about one very important thing in your addled state. The hot water bottle was still on your lap, and it hit the floor with a loud clang the second you stood. Water splashed everywhere, finally catching the attention of both men. Gojo’s icy gaze met Geto’s earthen one as the full situation finally clicked in their heads, and they shared a look that clearly read “oh shit.” 
The loss of the water bottle’s comforting warmth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fat, hot tears started to roll down your cheeks as you felt your uterus violently contract again. You doubled over, and both men stood, rushing to your side as you cried out in pain, fully sobbing.
“You’re making all of us worry, especially me. I just can’t keep listening to my two best friends complain about each other instead of talking through their problems, and I feel horrible right now, and I just-” 
Geto ran a comforting hand down your back. “Shit. Shhh… We’re sorry for making you worry. Right, Satoru?” 
Gojo sighed as the raven-haired man stared at him pointedly. “He’s right, we’re very sorry. C’mere, let’s get you back into bed.” 
He held his arms out as you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. With one swift motion, Gojo scooped you up in his arms as Suguru quickly towled up the water on the floor. Somewhere deep in your mind, you realized that you could feel Satoru’s warm skin against yours; he had turned off Infinity for you. He cradled you for a few precious minutes, purring soft reassurances against your ear that had you relaxing into his arms. 
“S’ alright. I’ve got you.” 
Suguru rolled his eyes and finished cleaning in almost record time. He pushed his friend toward your room, entering first to scoop your sheets aside and plug in your big heating pad. Gojo laid you down on the soft mattress, and you immediately snuggled up underneath the sheets. Another sharp stab of pain made you wince, and the two men shared another pointed look and a collective sigh, finding enough truce in their argument to climb into the bed on either side of you. 
Geto passed the heating pad to Gojo, who gently placed it against your lower stomach before pulling you against his chest. You clung to him happily, nuzzling into his warmth. However, this new position also made you oblivious to the way Geto’s eyes flashed in frustration at the sight. 
The raven-haired man pulled your back against his chest in retaliation, splaying a possessive hand over your hip as Gojo smirked at him. You murmured in appreciation, unconsciously shifting to lay against them equally as you drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.  Geto and Gojo locked eyes and finally relaxed, seemingly arriving at some unspoken agreement. They joined you in a deep, comfortable sleep, and it was by far the best sleep any of you had gotten in months. 
The three of you only grew closer after that night. It had only taken a week for Gojo and Geto to patch up their relationship, and they emerged with a stronger bond than before. When Shoko asked about the change, the boys cheerfully credited your period-induced breakdown as the catalyst that led them to reconcile. Gojo would grin cheekily, the action only mirrored by his raven-haired counterpart’s self-satisfied smirk as the two repeated the very same answer to everyone else who asked. They also pointedly ignored how you blushed and stammered at them, “Please, stop telling everyone about that.” 
“No can do, sweetheart.” Satoru winked at you over the rim of his dark glasses before sighing dramatically, poking at your soft, pouting cheeks, “Besides, where would we be without you? You put us in our place, so you deserve all the credit.”
Geto chuckled, a darkly amused glint in his eyes as he placed his large hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re right. We both need our girl to keep us straight.”
Time flew by as the three of you graduated and rejoined Tokyo Jujutsu High as young teachers. Life was… interesting; some things had changed for you, but many things still stayed the same. For one thing, you, Satoru, and Suguru were still incredibly close. Even though there were always missions to complete, students to educate, and monsters to kill, the three of you made time to spend together. 
Quite often, your “quality time” with the two men was spent in the form of a massive movie night at your apartment. There had been many discussions about moving it to Gojo’s ritzy new place, but the routine was already too ingrained in the three of you. So, every other weekend, you all piled on top of your plush sofa to watch cheesy movies, cycling through picks from every genre imaginable until everyone fell asleep. 
However, as much as you enjoyed the tradition, you had almost canceled tonight’s marathon. The worst part of your period was supposed to be over by now, but the heavy cramping hadn’t let up at all.
“Those two better be glad I love them so much,” you muttered, blushing slightly as you caught your accidental choice of words. 
Love? No, I don’t love those two. We’re just friends. Really good friends. 
Thoughts continued to whirl around your head as you hurriedly tidied up your living room and small kitchen, preparing everything for the night. No, you most definitely weren’t in love with both of your best friends at the same time. You were so good at ignoring how the two men had only grown more handsome and attentive to you since their big argument, and you definitely never imagined them taking you to bed….
By the time you had nearly convinced yourself that denial was just a river in Egypt, there was a cheerful knock at the door. The knock lasted for all of two seconds before Satoru pushed it open, grinning widely. The white-haired man still wore his blindfold but had traded his usual all-black uniform for a pair of suspiciously designer-looking grey sweatpants and a soft, black t-shirt.
“I brought treats!” He chimed, setting his armful of baked goods and sweets on the counter.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “‘Toru, did you rob a small bakery? You know you’re the only one who will eat most of it.” 
He noticed how you greedily eyed a bar of dark chocolate, snatching it up and waving it at you teasingly, “Oh, so you want me to take it back, then?” 
You pouted, trying to reach for the bar as Satoru weaponized his height against you. He held the chocolate just out of reach, and you jumped, almost brushing the very edge of the wrapper. You landed awkwardly, stumbling backward into something- no, someone- very solid. A rich, amused chuckle tickled your ear as Suguru caught you, reaching up to pluck the bar from Gojo’s hand as his hand cupped your hip. 
“Having fun without me, already?” 
“‘Toru’s being mean,” you complained as Suguru passed the sweet to you with a snide grin directed at the other man. 
“Fine,” he sighed dramatically, removing his blindfold to wink at you. “I’ve wounded our princess so she can have the first movie pick tonight. 
Your heart twisted and fluttered in your chest at the use of that pet name and the sight of his gorgeous cerulean eyes, but you shoved that feeling aside as quickly as it appeared. 
“I can forgive you… this time.” 
“And you can make the first batch of popcorn,” Suguru added, his signature sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 
“I’ll make sure to burn yours,” Gojo grumbled in response, heading for the kitchen as Suguru herded you toward the couch. 
You plopped down onto the middle of the couch, and Geto settled to your left, promptly handing you the chunky knit blanket you favored. Funnily enough, the arrangement the three of you sat in was as much of a tradition as the movie night itself; you were always in the middle of the two men. The three of you were always sandwiched together, but that didn’t make you flustered. Jujutsu sorcery took such a high mental toll that you had long figured any cuddling was strictly platonic. 
Geto looped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you almost sighed in happiness as you caught the comforting scent of sandalwood soap and incense that always surrounded him. You tipped your head against his shoulder, smiling contentedly and nibbling into the chocolate bar as the two of you flipped through movies, looking for the perfect one. Gojo cursed loudly in the other room, and you giggled at the loud banging coming from the stove. 
A few hours later, you finally got to Geto’s pick: a cheesy B-grade horror movie. Bags of candy and popcorn lay strewn over the coffee table as the three of you watched the final girl run from yet another masked killer. You had excused yourself to the bathroom half an hour ago to take some medicine and change into a fresh pad, but your cramps stubbornly refused to give up. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the night, so you suffered in silence, silently wincing in pain every few minutes. 
Geto and Gojo shared a look as they felt your body tense for the umpteenth time, and the raven-haired man clicked pause on the remote while his counterpart rubbed tiny circles over the small of your back. 
“What is it?” Suguru asked, his voice and expression both filled with concern. 
“Nothing, really. I’m fine.” You tried to reassure both men, but they gazed at you, unimpressed and clearly not buying your story. 
“We know you well enough to know that’s not true.” Gojo gazed at you, suddenly more serious than he’d been all night. Geto squeezed your shoulder gently, and both men scooted even closer to you, clearly unwilling to let it go. 
“Fine,” you grumbled. “I’m on my period, and my cramps are really bad right now. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want tonight to end yet, even though I don’t feel well.” 
Geto’s gaze softened, and Gojo laughed quietly, “You know we couldn’t leave our girl when she’s in pain.” 
Your cheeks flushed hotly at Satoru’s words. 
“You know I’ll never get a boyfriend if you keep calling me that.”
The words left your lips before you could even think about what you were saying; the temperature in the room instantly felt ten degrees colder. Suguru’s deep, coffee-colored gaze narrowed instantly, and Gojo tipped his head down to look you in the eyes, his pale irises shining almost eerily in the dim light. 
“Do you not… want to be our girl?” Suguru leaned down to whisper against the shell of your ear, his voice a velvet purr that made you shudder. You felt both men hold you tighter, their grip infinitely more possessive; Geto nipped at the shell of your ear lightly, drawing a small moan out of you. 
“Sugu…. I….. mmmmph..” 
Gojo traced a finger underneath your chin, tilting your eyes to meet his calm gaze. The new angle of your neck gave Geto the perfect angle to kiss up and down the column of your neck, which he promptly took advantage of, ghosting his lips across the sensitive skin. You shuddered, whimpering slightly as Satoru held your face still in one of his large, calloused hands. 
“He asked you a question, baby,” Satoru crooned, a smirk tugging at the corner of his unfairly perfect lips. 
Embarrassment mixed with growing lust dusted your cheeks, and your eyelashes fluttered in sync with every sinful drag of Geto’s lips against your skin. Your head was growing fuzzy, yet your body felt light as a feather as you relaxed between the two large men. Any thought of your previous pain had faded away in a sea of bliss and disbelief until another vicious cramp tore through your abdomen. You jolted upright, worry flashing in your eyes. The two men paused immediately, backing off to let you speak. 
“Even if I do want this…. We can’t right now. I’m….” You trailed off in embarrassment, staring down at the hem of your shirt. 
“Do you think so little of us, sweetheart? You think we’re frightened by a little blood? Geto crooned, and Gojo grinned in response, gasping in mock indignation.  
You shook your head slightly, stammering in protest. “I-I don’t think you’re afraid of it, just that ‘s gross.” 
Gojo caressed your cheek with his thumb, and Geto nuzzled his nose against the crook of your neck in reassurance. “Nothing about you could ever be gross; what you’re going through is the most natural thing in the world.” The raven-haired man murmured. 
“And b-both of you want me?” You responded in a daze. 
“Yeah. It’s been that way for years,” Satoru smiled, unashamedly staring at the swell of your slightly parted lips as you gasped in response. 
“It’s been the three of us for our entire lives, and you kept it that way. I don’t see why it should ever change,” Geto added with a low note of amusement. He caressed your waist, and another shudder ran down your spine. “You’ve been ours for years… we’ve just been waiting for you to realize it. Let us take care of you, baby. You’ve done so much for us.” 
Every nerve ending of your body crackled like a live wire as the two men waited with bated breath for your response. Your mind whirled as you tried to string together an actual sentence. Finally, you were able to moan a single word. “Please…”
The effect it had on the two men was instantaneous. Suguru groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck and pulling you back into his lap. Your back hit his broad, muscular chest, and you melted against him instantly. 
“Fuck, you have no idea how long we’ve waited for this…. How many men we’ve chased off because they didn’t deserve you.” Satoru mumbled, surging forward to claim your lips with his own, pinning you against the other man. The kiss started out soft but quickly grew more insistent as you moaned and whimpered every time Suguru grazed your decolletage with his teeth. He started to pull the neck of your shirt aside for better access to more skin, and you writhed in his arms as he left bruises in the wake of his lips. 
At any other time, you would’ve questioned Satoru’s confession, but right now, you felt hot, almost delirious with budding desire, as he reached down to trail his fingers over your clothed pussy. He rubbed directly over your little clit, but the pleasure you craved was muted by the thick added layer of your pad, and you whined in protest. “‘Toru, need you s’badly.”
“You hear that? Our princess needs you, Satoru.” Geto purred as the other man continued tracing the outline of your pussy. 
You rocked your hips against his fingers, desperate to feel more, but you only succeeded in teasing Suguru as you accidentally rocked your ass directly against his rapidly growing erection.
He hissed loudly, trailing one of his hands under your shirt to cup your bare waist. Gojo chuckled at the sight of his best friend’s suffering, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away with an audible pop. “Careful now, or you’re gonna make it hard for him to last.” 
“Oh, fuck off.” Suguru groaned in response, trailing his hand up to paw at your breast. You whined as he lightly pinched and rolled a nipple between his clever fingers, and the raven-haired man chuckled roughly, “Look at how dirty our girl is, not even wearing a bra. She’s so damn sensitive.” 
Your pussy throbbed at his words as Gojo leaned back, kneeling on the couch to watch the show you and Geto were putting on in front of him. Your gaze was half-lidded and hazy with lust, but you could still clearly see the way the muscles of his arm flexed as he reached down to palm his own erection. It stood proud, visibly tenting the dark grey sweatpants he wore, and your mouth watered at the mere outline of his dick. It looked so long and thick, and you could only imagine the bliss of it stuffing you and dragging against your deepest, most sensitive parts. 
He brushed a strand of white hair off his face, looking at you with another cocky smirk as he addressed the other man. “Oi, help me out here, Suguru. I seem to remember something about cramps… I think they’re improved by medicine, a heating pad, or something else. Now, what could that be?” 
Gojo paused for a clear, dramatic effect, his wolfish grin only growing wider as your breath caught in your throat. You were so distracted that you didn’t even realize Geto’s lips had trailed back up to your ear as he responded in a dulcet whisper, “I think the answer might be ‘they’re improved by orgasms.’ What do you think, pretty?”
“Yes, god yes,” you begged, rubbing your thighs together. The dull ache of your period had faded away into the haze of lust, but your pussy throbbed, begging to be filled.
Satoru winked at you, leaving the couch and walking into your bedroom for a moment. You whimpered as he left, and Geto chuckled again at your reaction, giving your nipple another rough pinch. “There’s no god here, baby, just us. But we’re gonna do you so good… Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”
You lay against his chest as Suguru pushed your shirt all the way up, tucking the hem between your teeth to give himself full, unimpeded access to your chest. He maneuvered the two of you around slightly, leaving you in his lap but allowing both of your legs to dangle off the edge of the couch. “Let’s give Satoru something to look at when he comes back, hmm? Bet he’d love to see these perfect tits.” 
He took each of your breasts into his warm hands, alternating between kneading the soft, supple flesh and pinching your aching nipples. You could only moan softly through the fabric of the shirt stuffed in your mouth as Geto took you higher and higher into bliss with every movement. 
Gojo walked back in not a minute later, holding a few fluffy, black towels. His beautiful eyes widened at the perfectly pornographic scene spread out in front of him, and he cursed under his breath, rushing back to the couch as Geto smirked at his best friend’s needy expression. 
“Careful, or he’s not gonna last long,” he teased, tugging off your shirt as he parodied Gojo’s earlier sentiment. 
The white-haired man huffed and shook his head sarcastically, but you certainly didn’t miss the way he threw his own shirt off and knelt between your legs as quickly as he could. His eyes were shining with ravenous desire, and your pussy throbbed as you realized that Geto’s teasing had an edge of truth. 
Gojo smiled up at you, tucking a towel between your hips and Geto’s lap before hooking his hands into the waistband of your pants, gently tugging them down and tossing them away. 
“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” He keened, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the inside of your thighs as his long fingers toyed with the hem of your panties. 
You bit your lip as a million worries flooded your mind, but Suguru caressed your face, whispering conspiratorially, “Think about how pretty he’s gonna look between your legs. He can finally put that smartass mouth of his to good use, right?” 
Satoru nibbled his way up your skin, sucking a dark hickey at the apex of your thigh as Geto continued to lavish your breasts with affection. You whined and moaned, keening with every touch. It felt like your entire body was on fire, and you’d go up in flames without the touch of both men. Any embarrassment you could’ve felt had long since evaporated; all you could do was beg for more as both men left their mark on your body. 
“‘Toru, please… Wanna cum so bad.” You whined, begging for relief, and Gojo glanced up at you with an expression that would’ve terrified anyone else. He may have been in a traditionally submissive position, but there was nothing submissive about his body language; he looked like a fallen angel with the way his pale hair framed his face.  
He slipped your panties off, breathing becoming heavier and heavier as all of your perfect body was finally revealed to his ravenous gaze. Satoru threw your legs around his shoulders, leaning back just enough to inspect your cunt. His pale eyelashes fluttered as he used one of his long fingers to part your puffy, swollen folds, completely mesmerized as you moaned his name and your cunt clenched in sheer anticipation of his touch. You were obscenely wet from the mixture of blood and arousal that trailed down your legs, and Gojo couldn’t wait any longer. 
“Our girl’s got a perfect fucking pussy, Suguru,” He mumbled, diving in to lick a fat stripe all the way up to your clit. You moaned wantonly, your head lolling back against Geto’s strong chest as the man behind you held your body upright, still enamored with the way your breasts fit in his hands. 
Period sex was very new to you, but you could already tell that it felt different- not different, better. You felt more sensitive than ever before, and not just between your legs. Your breasts felt heavy and full; you had a sneaking suspicion that you could’ve cum from Geto toying with them alone. 
Gojo’s eyes fluttered shut in bliss as he ate you out like a man starved. He lapped up every bit of arousal and blood from your weeping pussy, fucking you with his tongue before trailing delicious circles on your swollen clit with his tongue until you screamed his name. Your thighs wrapped around Satoru’s head, and the white-haired man moaned desperately, taking the opportunity to slip two fingers deep into your cunt. You keened at the delicious stretch, and Suguru groaned at the sight. 
“T-Toru… Ah-! Sugu….” Tears of pure bliss started to gather in the corners of your eyes as Satoru’s fingers rubbed mercilessly against your G-spot. You felt a familiar band of pleasure start to stretch in your lower stomach, and you whined in desperation. Suguru grabbed one of your arms, pressing desperate kisses against the delicate skin of your inner wrist as his other hand toyed with a nipple in time with Satoru’s thrusts.
“S’close.. Nnnnngh, gonna cum… pleasepleaseplea-” The band of pleasure snapped suddenly before you could even finish your sentence, launching you over the edge of the most intense orgasm of your life. Tears fell as you shattered in between the two men, crying and rocking your hips against Satoru’s face while your core fluttered around his fingers. 
“You’re fucking perfect,” Suguru growled as he scooped you up. He cradled you in his arms and leaned down to kiss you as Satoru stood, licking the blood and cum off his fingers. 
The taller man grinned as the two of you kissed passionately, leaning over to wipe a tear off your cheek. 
“Baby, you cryin'?” Satoru simpered before leaning in to lick off another tear. When Suguru pulled away to tell him off, Satoru pulled him into a searing kiss, slotting his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Geto’s eyes flared in shock before he leaned into the embrace, moaning as he tasted your arousal on his best friend’s tongue. 
“I thought you deserved a taste, too. Isn’t she sweet?” Gojo asked innocently as he pulled away to kiss you as well. You whined and ran your hand over his bare chest as the white-haired man nipped at your already kiss-swollen bottom lip. 
“Bedroom. Now.” Geto stood abruptly, his voice hoarse as he broke the embrace between you and Gojo. He carried you in his arms, shoving another large towel on top of your sheets before gently laying you on top of it. Your head lolled to the side, and you reached down to play with your puffy little clit, moaning softly as the men finished undressing in front of you. 
You watched shamelessly, taking in the sight of their beautiful bodies. Both men were tall and muscular, but Satoru was taller with more of a lean build, almost like an acrobat or a swimmer. Suguru was truly the Yin to Gojo’s Yang; he was stockier and deliciously broad. It was an undeniable fact that both men were gorgeous.
“Sugu… Toru…. Please. Wanna feel you both in me,” You begged, rocking your hips against the movement of your fingers, not even caring about how needy you sounded. 
The bed dipped with their weight as both men joined you on the bed without further hesitation. Geto knelt in front of you, motioning for you to get on all fours and face him. You hummed in delight, rolling over and pushing yourself up to face him. Suddenly, Gojo pinched your plush ass with a snicker. You gasped in shock, and Suguru took the opportunity to slap his thick cockhead onto your tongue. 
“We’re gonna fuck you raw from both ends first, baby. Gonna really make you ours. How’s that sound?” He questioned with a smirk, rubbing his fat tip over your tongue. 
Your gasp quickly turned into a purr of delight as you worked his tip into your mouth, greedily licking at the prominent vein that ran underneath his shaft. Geto’s raven-dark hair fell around his shoulders like a curtain as he moaned loudly. You could taste the salt and musk of his pre-cum as you worked his shaft deeper and deeper into your throat. 
Gojo cursed lowly as he lined up his swollen cockhead with your opening. You wiggled your hips back at him, wordlessly begging to feel the stretch and delicious length of him deep inside you. He pushed in at an agonizingly slow pace, trying to give you time to adjust. 
You moaned in ecstasy, and Geto gasped, bucking his hips slightly as he felt the vibrations of your throat around his shaft. “Fucking hell, baby. You’re sucking my dick like you were made for it.”
Gojo pushed in further, finally bottoming out with his fat cockhead nestled snugly against your cervix. You whined at the dull ache, but the feeling was addictive. You rocked your hips, desperate for more, and the white-haired man moaned. “And she’s sucking me in like she wants to get pregnant tonight.”
Your eyes flew open, and you gasped around Geto’s dick, drawing another ragged moan from the man. It wasn’t what you had intended at all, but you couldn’t hide your reaction to Satoru’s lascivious words, especially since he could feel your core fluttering in agreement with his statement. 
You could feel the wickedly delighted grin spread across his face as Gojo grew deadly silent for a moment. “Oh, Suguru~ you should’ve felt the way she just clenched around me when I said that. Our girl is even dirtier than we thought.” 
“I told you she’s perfect.” Geto slid into your mouth even further, sighing in bliss and his own ecstasy as he pushed into your throat, entwining his hands in your hair. You gagged for a brief moment; his dick had more girth than Gojo’s, and it was the biggest you’d ever taken like this. The raven-haired sorcerer moaned and crooned down at you, stroking the column of your throat where his cock was nestled so deeply.
More tears fell as your eyes watered in the bliss of being so completely used by the two men. You felt so full, so complete, and you couldn’t help but moan again as your nose rubbed against the dark trail of hair on Geto’s lower abdomen. 
“Shit, gotta move. You ready, baby?” Gojo groaned, shallowly thrusting his hips. You tried to moan in assent, but the sound was strangled by the dick in your throat. 
Geto tipped his head back in ecstasy, laughing hoarsely. “She wants it s’badly, ‘Toru.”
The two men started to move, alternating their thrusts in perfect rhythm like they’d planned this moment for years. Every deep thrust from Gojo would send you falling forward onto Geto’s cock; you could only wordlessly cry in bliss from the position the two men fucked you mercilessly.
Satoru pinched and kneaded the tender flesh of your ass with every thrust. He swiped one of his fingers between your legs, collecting the creamy mixture of his pre-cum and your arousal, offering it out to his best friend with a smirk. Geto sucked it off with an audible pop, groaning at the taste as Satoru returned to collect more. You choked again as you felt one of his long, clever fingers tease your tightest hole, circling the rim with predatory intent. 
“Relax, baby. Gotta get you ready f’me.” He slipped his finger in, beginning to work you open as you relaxed into the intense but euphoric sensation. 
“Our slutty princess wants all her holes filled, huh?” Geto groaned, looking down at your fucked-out expression. “Gotta cum again for us. Gonna make you cum so hard that you can’t think straight.” 
Satoru slipped a second finger into your ass, working you open even further as the two men fell slightly out of sync with their thrusts. They were both breathing hard, grunting and begging desperately for you to cum with them. As if on command, you fell apart for the second time with an obscene moan. White sparks flashed through your vision as your orgasm shot through you, even more forceful than the first. Your cunt spasmed around Gojo so violently that he came on the spot, painting your blood-swollen womb with his pearlescent seed. 
Geto cursed at the sound of Gojo’s strangled cry, pulling completely out of your mouth. You panted and moaned below him, your body shaking with every thrust as Gojo fucked you through your orgasm. Suguru groaned as your tongue lolled out, begging to be coated with his cum. His balls felt almost uncomfortably full as he stroked his shaft rapidly, intent on giving you what you begged for so prettily. 
It only took a few seconds for Geto’s own orgasm to crash through him. The smooth movements of his hips and hands stuttered as he groaned lowly, painting your pretty face with his seed. However, most of it landed in your mouth, and you happily caught it with your pink tongue, holding it out for him to inspect. 
“You’re going to… be the death of me one day,” the raven-haired man moaned as he felt blood immediately rush back to his cock. Instead of swallowing, your eyes shone mischievously, and you turned around to pull Satoru into a searing kiss. You mimicked his earlier actions, but this time you were pushing Suguru’s cum into his mouth.  
Gojo moaned wantonly at the sharp taste, swallowing his share as his own cock twitched back to life. Geto pulled you away from the other man, maneuvering you to face him as he brought your hips down, filling you with his cock in a single thrust. You screamed hoarsely, cunt spasming from overstimulation as Gojo laughed roughly, wiping the remainder of his friend’s cum off his lips before positioning himself behind you. 
The white-haired man watched greedily as you bounced on Geto’s cock, taking a minute to lean back and stroke his dick until he was fully erect. Gojo pulled your hips back, stilling Geto’s thrusts, and he growled in response.
“Gotta let me in too,” Gojo chided, swiping a finger over his fat tip to coat it with pre-cum as he positioned it against your other hole. Your eyes widened, and you gasped as he started to push into you, stretching you slowly but mercilessly. Geto pulled you in for a ravenous kiss, devouring your litany of moans as he struggled to keep from thrusting into you. After a small eternity, both men were seated fully inside you, and you whined their names over and over like a prayer, begging them to start moving. 
“Toru, Sugu… nnnnhgh, ‘m so full,” you cried, leaning your head against Geto’s shoulder as the two men cradled you in their arms. Their hands roamed over your body, caressing and groping every inch of you as they began to move, stretching your body past the very limits of pleasure. Your eyes glazed over; you couldn’t tell who was kissing your neck versus who was rubbing achingly soft circles on your clit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as the two men brought you to climax again and again.
Soft rays of dawn were peeking through your bedroom window by the time the three of you fell onto your bed, breathing hard but finally sated. You looked around at the sheets and at your lovers, blushing hotly at the dried red marks that covered almost every surface in the room. The towels had not lasted long.
Geto chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, “We’ll clean up. Don’t worry.” 
“And we’ll prepare better for next time,” Gojo added with a grin, poking your cheek. 
Your whole body felt like jelly, but the two men were determined to care for you properly. Suguru walked into the bathroom, and you could hear the sound of water filling your bathtub as Satoru fetched a glass of water for you, helping you sit up to drink properly. He scooped you up, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he walked you into the bathroom, depositing you in the warm water. The three of you washed each other in blissful silence, with both men being extra attentive to your sore body. Afterward, they changed your sheets and put you in clean pajamas, slipping their own sweatpants on to climb into bed next to you. 
“Thank you…” You murmured, already drifting off to sleep between your two lovers. 
Geto kissed your temple silently as Gojo laughed softly, “Of course. We have to take good care of our girl, after all.”
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Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecremepuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms @msniks @panteramarron @cindyneko-strider @unoriginalidea @eldritchbeauty @markleeisdabestdrug @gabbyburgers @its-chickenwing-450 @luneariaa @akiiireix @tojispookiebear @dangoank0 @ifuckinghateschool @barryatsumu @voids-universe @mahgyu @themoonmonologues @byul9158 @pseudowho
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taexoxosgf · 10 months
Text
FORMULA 1
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PAIRING race car driver!lee mark x fem!reader
WORDS 3.5k
SYNOPSIS mark just looks too good to resist after his race.
WARNINGS explicit sexual content (too lazy to add deets), car sex, fluff, friends with benefits, they’re in denial lol
NOTES my first fic on tumblr <3 my bb
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You spot Mark across the airport track.
Sitting in his newly acquired Nissan Skyline GT-R 34, one arm hangs out of the window. He lifts the same arm to bring a cigarette to his lips, the cloud of smoke seemingly following in slow motion. His hair damp due to the forgotten rain from the hour before. The same cherry red hair, now longer and styled, no longer covering his forehead. A piece dangling in front of his eyes.
Individuals began dispersing now that the race had ended. Of course, Mark was the first to cross the finish line. He always was.
You often attended his races but not solely for him. The people were always friendly, and any kind of race was exhilarating to watch. The cars maneuver between each other, attempting to avoid collision. If anyone of the racers tried to pull a trick and it went wrong, it would turn into something much scarier than a race.
You loved watching him race, even more, the activities afterward. You two weren’t by any means exclusive, but the both of you hadn’t been with anyone else since meeting each other. People could call it a situationship. Some label it as friends with benefits. Whatever it was, Mark’s texts were what you looked forward to late into the night. But today, he texts you earlier than usual.
ML: Enjoying the view?
ML: I know I am
You scoff, looking back up and immediately locking eyes with him. A smirk adorning his smug face.
ML: Come here.
You: I’m not gonna run to you like a dog. You come here.
ML: Baby don’t be like that
You: Stopped by to watch ur race. It’s over now, so I’m leaving
You: Bye
Not sparing him another glance, you make your way off the track. Feeling his eyes on you, your hips sway with every step. The denim mini-skirt you chose to wear rides up, and the backless top reveals the perfect amount of skin as Mark's eyes are glued to your figure.
People are standing outside their cars, talking, eating, the usual at car meets. It’s almost like a tailgate before a football game. The atmosphere was always welcoming and it was easy to make acquaintances that could turn into close friends.
There’s one every week, and having gone to them for the past 2 months, there are many familiar faces. You’ve even made close friends with Ningning, another racer, who you bonded with due to her beating Mark in a race when they were still rookies.
There’s Jaemin too, who you met through Ningning. He always greets you with a smile, his eyes staying on yours a little too long after every response.
Your conversations with Jaemin never last longer than five minutes with Mark always making up an excuse for you to leave. And when you finish protesting to Mark, you look back, and Jaemin is already 20 feet away, grabbing another plate of food with Ningning.
You’d like to think Mark gets jealous. Maybe he does, but then, you remind yourself of the mutual agreement of ‘no strings’ and remember he couldn’t be. So you push any second thoughts in the back of your mind.
Unlocking your car, your fingers are wrapped around the handle when another hand grabs ahold of your wrist, spinning you around to your back.
The cold exterior of the car hitting your bare back causes goosebumps to appear all over your body.
You’re met face-to-face with Mark. He is so close you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning your face while his lower body is completely pressed up against you. He’s got you trapped in between his arms; his hands placed flat onto the hood of the vehicle.
“Leaving so soon?”
You smirk at his inquiry, knowing he always gives in.
“Just came by to watch the race. The race is over, isn’t it?” Your nonchalant response comes out softer than intended, but he doesn’t see through you.
Mark doesn’t utter a word while you continue with the act. His dark orbs stare into yours and scan down, stopping at the stained lips in front of him. Before disrupting the silence, he uses his thumb to smear the lipstick at the corner of your lips outward. “I prefer your lipstick messy,” he says softly.
All you do is continue to look into his eyes with the corner of your lips curving upwards. His small meaningless comments have been igniting a fuzzy feeling in your chest lately. Even if it was playful.
You know what this means.
I don’t even want to think about it.
There was a mutual agreement, and you swore never to break it. But can one control it? If this unspoken feeling was true, you couldn’t bring yourself to end it, but your chest feels heavier every second you’re by his side. The walls you put up to protect yourself seem to crack a little more each time, worsening as you realize he doesn’t seem to have the same internal battles.
You think to yourself how it fucking sucks but suppress it because you’ll live.
Mark notices you’re thinking about something as your eyes dance around his face. He wants to ask you what it is that has you daydreaming, but he seizes the opportunity to admire you. You’re so beautiful. He wants to tell you, but you both know it crosses boundaries. The word was mutually agreed as too intimate, but it’s at the tip of his tongue. The urge to compliment you, to text you in the day rather than the middle of the night, to spend more time with you, he yearns for more. But you always play along with his games and seem content with what you both have now, so he doesn’t do anything to catch you off guard. It’s a fuzzy feeling in his chest when he sees you smile. This feeling is foreign to him, but Mark welcomes it.
“Wow, you have a way with words Mark Lee,” sarcasm oozing from your retort.
‘Fuck, say my full name again,” he exclaims as he throws his head back.
You fully laugh, your arm giving him a playful push to his shoulder. You’re both smiling ear-to-ear, the flirty mood turning into something different. It had been happening much more recently.
His body was still pressed onto yours, his arms caging you between himself and the car. Going onto your toes, you bring your lips to his. It’s a soft, sweet kiss.
As you lean back onto the car, Mark doesn’t utter another word. He simply kisses you again, a little rougher this time, and your arms immediately move around his neck. One of his arms snakes from the hood of the car to your ribcage, his fingertips slowly inching downwards and finally pressing harder at the curve of your waist.
The kiss was what you could say, electric. It was as if the spark began at your lips and the electricity followed down to Mark’s erect length, currently already straining against his jeans. What you didn’t know was Mark had been thinking about you all day. When he would see your face, when he would speak to you, and what you would say as he was in between your legs. All the unrequited feelings and lust you both felt pouring into this kiss and every kiss before and after.
Your lips fit each other perfectly, moving in sync. Mark swallows your moan when you feel your tongue caressing against his. He was so enamored with you, having difficulty coming out from the daze that is you.
You finally pull back to catch your breath; Lips swollen and the nude lipstick smudged. You’re panting heavily against his mouth and your fingertips feel as if they’re leaving crescent marks around his neck. The lust between Mark and yourself was something you never experienced before. Being turned on just from a short makeout was nonexistent until Mark. If you were to check your panties right now, you’re sure they would be soaked; feeling as if you’re losing sanity every second that passes.
“You know, if you were good and just walked over to my car earlier, I would have made you come twice by now.” He’s gazing at you with those hooded eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing while he swallows. You’re playfully trailing your nails against his neck and notice the purple marks that once covered it are now faded. I’ll have to fix that.
You then notice the goosebumps that appear on his skin as your nails graze his skin.
“Since when do you like good girls?”
Mark’s inked hand plays with the strands of hair that hover over your cheekbones and continue to trace your jawline until they reach your chin. He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, lifting it to bring your face closer to his.
He’s still looking at you with naked lust. His head tilted to the side while his lips are practically touching yours.
“I did until I met you.”
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“Shit,” you rasp against Mark’s mouth.
One minute you were standing outside and now you are in the backseat of his fucking brand new car making out like you both had not seen each other in months. It was always like this, aggressive and full of want. But you loved it. Mark knew you did, so he never hesitated on being rougher in bed.
You're straddling his thighs and it feels as if he’s everywhere at once. The feel of his warm hands palms your ass, guiding you as you grind on his clothed cock that becomes harder by the second. It feels too good, chasing euphoria every time you’re with him. “Oh my god,” you pant against his mouth. It isn’t long before you feel the grip of his fingers as he pries your mouth open, not hesitating to slip his tongue into it again.
Your fingers are running through his hair, pulling on his black locks as the makeout becomes more intense, and Mark grunts at the feeling.
His sounds turn you on even more. The kiss is still messy and hot as he slightly bucks his hips upwards, creating more friction. Your bodies mold together, fitting each other perfectly like a puzzle.
You break away from his lips to trail kisses from his jawline down his neck, sucking and nipping to leave fresh marks against his collarbone. His head leans further back against the headrest, closing his eyes to enjoy your touch. He’s panting harder now, the sounds erupting from his throat being music to your ears. It only encourages you further, but you don’t notice his hand skimming your inner thigh.
His fingers, which are painted in ink, shift higher in an attempt to move your panties underneath your skirt to the side, but they come directly in contact with your slick.
“Fucking shit, you’re not wearing any underwear?” he asks you, and you hum in response, still working at his neck.
“Slut. Slut who always just wants to fuck. Nothing else.”
“Your slut. Who always just wants to get fucked by you,” you whisper; Swollen lips grazing his ear as the words leave them.
He says nothing more with words, responding by slipping two fingers into you.
You gasped at the sudden force. It feels too good, but he doesn’t move. He just looks at you with a look you can't comprehend.
Your fingers inch up to move a curl out of his eyes. “Move, please Mark.”
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
You were surprised by the sudden expression. One moment he was acting like he always does, then he offered you small compliments. Though it was weird timing to be sentimental, you couldn’t help but feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. It catches you off guard and the fuzzy feeling you never experienced before meeting him comes back. The same fuzzy feeling in your lower stomach came and went with certain words like these, not just his actions. It starts to scare you because every time, it seems you both stray further from the initial agreement.
“What’s gotten you so cheesy all of a sudden?” your eyes avoid him while you play with the same long curl.
“Nothing. Just wanted to let you know,” he offers a small smile. You swear you see a hint of something loving in his eyes. But it couldn’t be, you think. He’s just saying things in the heat of the moment.
You brush off what could be Mark’s slight falter from his strong persona; no longer avoiding his eyes, you connect your lips to his once again.
He gives in, both of you melting into the kiss. It's too intoxicating yet again. Both of your hands are on each other as if the other would somehow disappear.
His fingers begin to move, and you gasp against his mouth because you had forgotten Mark’s fingers were still inside of you due to his statement. Your surprise only allows him immediately to go for your neck; kissing your sensitive spots. Nipping and licking over it to slightly ease the burn.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.”
He speeds up the pace, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot. The relief only increases as you get closer to your orgasm. Jaw slacked open as you pant against his ear.
“ Mark, right there,” you mewl.
His fingers are so deep inside you, and he finally adds a third finger. You already feel full, and think about how good his cock would feel after the satisfying burn. Of course, that wasn’t enough for Mark, so his thumb begins circling your clit, adding more stimulation. The sensation is too good to describe, and you roll your hips, grinding onto his fingers in hopes of increasing the amount of pleasure.
You’re a mess. Already feeling fucked out before taking his cock and your pussy continues to swallow Mark’s inked fingers as the arousal continues to drip down, the sound letting you know of the mess you’re making. But you don’t pay any mind to it, too focused on the feeling in your lower stomach increasing.
“Please Mark. Faster. Don’t stop,” you pant out as you chase the awaited high.
“Love it when you beg,” he whispers. His hot breath against your lobe.
Your eyes squeeze shut as the wave of your orgasm arrives before you can utter a warning. Mark continues to pump his fingers inside of you, the pleasure becoming more intense. You whimper against his neck as you ride out your orgasm.
Mark pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth. He makes sure you’re watching as his tongue licks a long stripe from his knuckles, finally wrapping his lips around his fingers.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he praises.
As the corner of your lips lifts, your hand is already unbuttoning his jeans. Slipping your hands in, you begin to palm his cock through his boxers, Mark attempting to suppress a low groan from your actions. The sound alone has you trying to squeeze your thighs together; even after the intense orgasm you just experienced. Only Mark could make you feel this way. He was the only one who could turn you on as much as he did.
“Don’t tease, slut.”
“Just having some fun,” you counter against his mouth.
As you help Mark slip his pants and boxers off, his cock is fully hard, the pink tip leaking precum. Mark’s dick was on the larger side, making you feel full every time you both would have sex. It had surprised you the first time, expecting it to be average, but it definitely was not. This motherfucker knew it too, assuring you that ‘you could take it’ as he roughly thrusted in and out of you.
“Spit on it,” he demands.
From the straddle position on his thighs, you lower your head, letting saliva slowly drip down onto his cock.
Mark gives praise with a ‘good girl’ as you stroke him. You finally reposition onto your knees beside his thighs, feeling his rough hands on your waist before helping you lower yourself onto him. As you’re slowly sinking onto his cock, you both gasp.
Mark roughly smashes his lips by pulling onto your neck as you adjust to his size.
The feeling was literal heaven.
Oh, how you could never get used to this.
His long fingers are wrapped around your neck, squeezing as you start to slowly grind against his cock. He swallows your moans and your fingers that were initially gripping his hair move to his shoulders and you finally pull back to begin bouncing on his cock.
Your pussy envelops his cock, squeezing at the intense amount of pleasure that runs through your veins.
Mark finds himself marveling at your breasts bouncing in front of him, immediately wrapping his lips around your nipples. His fingers dig into your skin as the pleasure increases for the both of you.
A breathy whimper emits from your throat and it takes everything to not close your eyes. Mark hated when you closed your eyes, always wanting to look at you as arousal bled through your orbs.
“How are you always this tight baby? Fuck,” he rasps. Looking at him, you can say he’s almost as fucked out as you. You knew Mark well enough to know when he was feeling more than he let on.
You whimpered as a response. The small moans and wet sounds of skin slapping filled the empty air of the vehicle. Mark continues to squeeze your throat, the pressure only heightening the feeling in your lower torso. At the inkling of your orgasm, Mark feels you clench around him and groans against your tits.
As you’re bouncing on his cock, Mark matches your rhythm and bucks his hips into you, hitting your g-spot. It’s rough and fast, the brutal pace causing your moans to heighten in pitch. You couldn’t take it anymore. The imaginary band in your stomach is on the verge of snapping again. You were so sensitive from the first orgasm that the second one was not far from reach.
“Ma-arkk, so close,” you yelp, emitting words that were almost incoherent.
“Come for me baby, milk my cock.”
Putting all your remaining energy into riding him, you feel Mark’s fingers leave your waist and trail down to your clit, pressing circles. “Fuck! Mark!”
This was all you needed to come undone, your eyes squeezing shut and your body freezing momentarily as the overwhelming high washes over you. Your pussy tightens around his cock, spasming but not stopping Mark from continuing to drive his length into you with renewed vigor.
“Fuck baby, you’ll make me-”
Your mouth is open in an ‘o.’ A moan threatening to leave your throat but nothing is heard.
“Shit, you’re so tight right now,” Mark utters, throwing his head back against the headrest. He lets go of your throat, placing both of his hands at your waist to now reach his high. As he continues to abuse your cunt, all is heard are your sobbed curses into his shoulder, the intense feeling still lingering.
Your body was loose, facial features neutralizing as you come down from your euphoria. You were tired, having difficulty helping Mark but tried your best to move. The burning feeling in your thighs came and grew stronger but you could tell he was close due to his features scrunching slightly, focus becoming blurred.
The tension building in his body was on the verge of snapping. He was so close, wanting it so badly for the reason that the high of the orgasm seeped through his veins like a drug.
“Inside of me. Want you to fill me up Lee,” your voice enough to be the last straw for Mark.
His body began to heat up, nothing but one last shout of your name as he came into you.
“Fuck.”
You were spent every time, your limp body falling forward onto him. Your cheek rested on his shoulder, nothing but silence and warmth pervading the air.
Mark’s slender fingers dance on your thighs, both of you savoring the comfortable tranquility before he reaches up to your chin to bring your face to his.
“Lemme take you out on a date. For real. A real date.”
You chuckle at his confession, mistaking it for a funny gag. “Ha-ha very funny.”
“I’m being serious. You don’t think I like you?” he replies slightly taken aback.
“I just thought you didn’t want anything serious. What changed?”
His orbs stare into yours for a few seconds before he responds. “You. I wanna take you out on a date because I really like you.”
“I like you too, Mark.” It was a relief to finally be able to say it out loud.
“But you just came in me, so maybe date talk later?” you chuckle.
“Okay, bet. I can work with that,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours once again, never getting sick of the enigma that is you.
2K notes · View notes
monarchberrysblog · 28 days
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UNDER THE STARS ⋆⭒
⋆。°✩ part two to: NOTHING BUT TROUBLE
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credit to: @mar_marOu on Instagram & @/marmarOu on X and Tumblr!
✭ 🔞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐭! 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✭
✭ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: sometimes, a hero and a vigilante need a break from the hectic city environment.
✭ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃. miguel and the reader are in an established relationship, brief mentions of kleptomania, exhibitionism (both of y'all literally don't give a fuck but seriously, don’t do freaky stuff outside), cumplay (?), cum eatting (we are going there too), uncircumcised peepee 🤭, hard? dom! miguel, assertive behavior from the reader, cunnilingus (f! receiving), unprotected p-in-v (please go to your local planned parenthood to educate yourself), and heavy breeding kink. (he scrambles your eggs 😝)
✭ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: +1.6k words 🤭
✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Nothing But Trouble blew up overnight! thank you for your undying support! it means a lot to me 😭 if there are errors, i do apologize, it's been a month since I looked at this. I'm slowly getting back in the groove.
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here’s to my followers! y’all live in my basement now 🐈‍⬛ 🩵
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The low clouds in Nueva York cascaded onto the ground, creating a murky environment in now empty streets. It was a quiet night, even for Nueva York. Within the apartment buildings of the hustling city, many were home, sheltered away from the smog air. Some were fast asleep in bed with their blankets, and others were cooking a warm meal for the evening. But for you, you were dragged out of your soft, cozy bed past the window edge decorated with many potted plants and small trinkets. You were now climbing the fire escape, wearing your pajamas and a simple black sweater.
The cat dragged you out into the cold environment, away from your warm, cozy bed. You yawned as you climbed up, swiftly up the fire escape, feeling the now wet bars against the palm of your hand.
The memory of seeing a text message from Miguel immediately came to mind when your slipper fell off your foot, causing you to shoot a web at it to retreat.
The "I want to see you real quick" text meant nothing but trouble from him. He was always up to no good, leaving a little mess behind, like a cat playing with a ball of yawn, only for the poor creature to be tangled in its consequence with big, teary eyes.
Nonetheless, you continued your climb up, finally reaching the rooftop.
The cold air nipped at your skin, piercing its cold air needles through your sweater and pajamas. Bringing your hands close to your mouth, you exhale warmly to your freezing digits, rubbing your hands, seeking friction to warm your dead, lifeless fingers temporarily.
You stand idly, waiting for his arrival.
A puff of smoke escaped your lips while you yearned for your return to your warm bed and away from the cold weather. Then, your vision darkened. A pair of large hands shield your eyes from the skyscraper lights of Nueva York. "Miguel!" You squeaked, reached to grasp his hands, and forcefully attempted to pull them away from your face. "Seems like you're happy to see me." He croons against the shell of your ear. His voice vibrates against your eardrums, reverberating down to your core. "Tell me why you're here...!" You finally pull his hands away from your eyes and turn around to see him.
"I can't see my favorite person in the whole wide world?"
"No, no, you can't."
"Ouch, I'm hurt." He feigns pain, placing a hand against his "aching" chest cavity. You chuckle, delivering a punch against his shoulder, and sigh. "Really, why are you here?" He chuckles at the question, his palm rubbing away the aching punch that blossomed under his skin. "I have something for you-"
"Did you steal it?"
He frowns at the question. Sure, it was a given that he tended to snatch the next shiny thing in sight, but this time, it was... different.
"No...!" He hisses. "I bought it with my own money." He reaches down to his toolbelt and grabs a drawbag. He opens the tiny draw bag and retrieves a small royal blue box. "It's for you." He tosses the box to you. The little box jumps around your hands before it settles down on your palm. "I hope you like it." He huffs a bit of his cheeks while watching closely.
Your hands move independently, opening the tiny container. The velvet plush container revealed a heart-shaped necklace; the midnight blue stone glistened in the moonlight, shining independently. "Miguel...?"
"Now, don't get sappy on me." He scoffs, displaying a frown. Behind the frown, a smile waits to be displayed. He browsed at multiple boutiques, hoping to find something that was meant to be for you. Something that stood out from the rest. Simple, but it was made for you. "You got this for me?" You pout and soon retrieve the necklace from the velvet box.
"Do you like it?" The question felt boyish, even for him. But it was such a cute action coming from him.
"Yes! Oh my god! Help me put it on!" You bounced on the balls of your feet, ready to be climbing on the walls. "Put it on me, put it on me!" You repeat the phrase as a mantra, handing him the necklace to help you put it on. His frown breaks as he chuckles and assists you put the necklace on. "Do you like it-" He repeats and immediately gets jumped into an unsuspecting embrace. "Stop asking the question! Yes, I love it!" Your laughter fills the space as Miguel's hands work to get a proper hold of your bottom. Your laughter filled the space before the slowly descended to soft giggles and sighs.
His nose nudges against the tip of your nose, slowly creating a gap of silence between you. "Hi..." you whisper, nudging your nose against his. "Hey, " he croons as he nuzzles closer, planting a gentle kiss against your lips, molding your lips perfectly. You hum at the contact and enable the soft kiss. His fingers dig into the plush of your bottom as his claws sink deep into your skin.
Soft suckles and sighs fill your personal bubbles before pinning you down against the ledge. Your hands grasp Miguel's bicep before his chuckle greets your ears. "C'mere..." His hands move to hold onto your hips and drag you closer to his hips, rubbing himself against you at a slow, agonizing pace. "Even when it's cold out, you are warm."
You turn to look down, seeing the hustle and bustle of the streets, the lights looking nothing but a speck of light. "No one is gonna see us." He hums before he nuzzles his way to the crook of your neck, slowly placing soft kisses and trailing them back to your lips.
"Are you sure?" You push the question and lean closer to the soft butterfly kisses against your skin. "It's dark, no one is going to see." He rubs his straining member against your aching core, fluttering and waiting to be penetrated. His hands tug away at your sleep shorts, desperate to cease them off your body.
The thin line of arousal builds up against the gusset of your underwear, the slick, clear arousal clinging against your folds. "Let me get a taste." He pulls away the gusset, his fingers feeling the warmth and heat against his digits. "Look at that; you were already preparing for me..."
He kisses his way down to your core, almost moaning at the scent. You were his catnip, the temptation luring him to you, to roll his tongue at the liquid, sticky ecstasy, to drown in it.
His nose budgets against your clit as his tongue laps at your entrance, collecting the taste. The cold air, accompanying his warm breath, nipped at you as your walls clenched around nothing. You are opened up to him like a blooming flower, exposing more of your now sensitive clit. “You are too sweet…” His voice is muffled thanks to his tongue licking your entrance from the bottom to the top.
Your eyes shoot open when you feel his middle finger linger at your entrance, tracing the opening slowly. Your breathing catches you, also as if you were sprinting in a marathon. He pulls away from the intimate kiss from your lips, his lips coated in your mess. "C'mon… let everyone hear you." He purrs and pushes two fingers in, feeling you clench against his digits. "Easy there, quierida." He keeps at a steady pace, immediately hearing the wet slaps. "There we go, there we go..."
The small whimpers evolved into full moans, your moans only audible to him but immediately drowned out by the sound of honking cars and noises in every other corner of the gloomy city's lively life. "Let me hear you, let me hear..." He slurps the sticky discharge before he is immediately shoved into you by your hands. You wailed out, squirming about before he pinned you down. "Open your mouth, now." His demands muffled, not daring to move away from your puffy folds.
You did as he said and screamed out an orgasm, nearly waterboarding him. He pulls away from your puffy folds and is wholly doused. You croak out a noise, ready to say something, but get stopped. “Just keep your mouth open.” He pulls down the zipper of his suit before he frees the strained tent between his legs.
Not earning a warning on time, he spits into your mouth, giving you a taste of your cum. The strong tangy taste and substance stayed in your mouth as you kept your mouth shut in shock. "Swallow it." He heaves before he reaches down between the two of you and lazily pumps his aching cock. You reach down and pull back at the foreskin gently, allowing to see the mauve tip peek out from the extra skin.
You grab his cock, pulling him close to you and pushing him into you. He groans softly at the sensation as he rocks himself in and out of you.
You swallow your cum and bounce on him, following his lead and feeling the familiar pressure between his tip and G-spot. You flutter against his length, trying to create a consistent rhythm, but the rhythm comes out staggered and messy. "You've been working on your kegals? You little slut." He hisses while pushing you down on the ledge.
"You're getting there. I can feel it." Strands of hair begin to stick to his forehead, and sweat soon drips down onto you, landing on your blouse and occasionally on your face. "Together now, you can do it. Hold it, " he demands as the pace increases. You look over at him, mouth agape and eyes pleading. Your hands grasp his exposed bicep, fingernails leaving crescent indents and red streaks.
"No, I know what you're thinking. Not yet." You pull him close, feeling your lower stomach bubble like a witch's cauldron. He leans down, planting you a harsh kiss, his tongue creeping its way to yours. You eagerly oblige, still tasting yourself on his tongue. "Now, go ahead." He rasps, rubbing his thumb against your clit. With one final thrust, you splash the two of you, your mess landing on the floor beneath the two of you.
"There you go, I'm so proud of you." He leans in to kiss your temple and nuzzles close. He slowly pulls out and looks at your pully walls. Not even a moment later, his cum spills out of you, dribbling down past your swelling folds. "Hold on, nena." His fingers gather his cum and push his cum back into you slowly.
He pulls his fingers out, residue lingering on his fingers before he licks the mess off.
"Don't waste a drop."
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tohokuu · 1 year
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boobs, boobs, boobs - tengen, kyojuro, akaza, aizetsu
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tumblr is based off a system of reblogs. reblog my work.
word count : 1.5k
warnings : tiddy sucking, somnophilia in akaza's
a/n : first time writing for kny...
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TENGEN
tengen’s mouth watered when he saw your perky nipples sticking past the thin white fabric of your shirt. it was colder during this time of the year, so he knew that your nipples poking through was inevitable. his main concern was how he could help in fixing that. 
he didn’t want you embarrassed, ya know? imagine sanemi or kyo drop by and get a chance to see your perky tits. he couldn’t have that. your tits belonged to him. they were cute and squishy and all he wanted to do in this moment was sit you down on his lap and suck your nipples until you pulled at his hair. 
wouldn’t that be flashy?.. he thought. 
you sighed as you wrapped tengens thin blanket around you. it didn’t make much of a difference, though. you were still shivering cold. he knew the only way to keep you warm was if you were laying flat against him (tit in his mouth). 
“baby, is it cold in here or just me?” tengen spurred on. you looked up eagerly, staring at him in shock. “are you not cold?” you asked him. he shook his head. 
“i’m not but i can tell that you are.” you saw tengen’s eyes dart directly down to your chest, raising a brow as he stared shamelessly. “hmm, have they always been this perky?” he asked you slapped his arm in embarrassment.. or at least tried to slap his arm. instead, he grabbed you by the bicep. pulling you down onto his lap. 
it was in mere seconds, he had the blanket draped around your shoulders and your chest exposed for him. he could see goosebumps rising on your skin, standing up to the sky as he undressed you in the bitter cold. “fuck.” tengen sighed as he stared at your chest. 
“the piercings are so flashy, honey.” he crooned. you blushed, looking away from his face. 
“can i warm you up?” 
-
KYOJURO
kyo was pretty uncaring when it came to how you dressed around the house. you usually lounged around in some loose pants and a short, cropped shirt of his. today was no different. you were cooking when he walked in the next morning, shirtless with only a pair of trousers on. he didn’t pay much attention to your chest until you turned around, handing him a cup of tea. 
“good morning, kyo!” you chirped, smile fresh on your face in the early morning glow. kyo smiled tenderly. “thank you, my angel.” you kissed his pec after, walking away. kyo didn’t know what it was, that got him thinking that morning, looking at your ass and raising a thick eyebrow. 
“mm tasty!” he said as he sipped on the honey and lemon flavored tea. joining you on the couch, he leaned over, laying his head on your chest. he snuggled his face into your chest, groaning and grunting softly as some of the sleep was still settled in his mind. his eyes fluttered open and closed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair. 
“mmm.” he whimpered, enjoying the scratch of your nails against his scalp. kyo got up, getting on top of you and surprising you with his sudden outburst. his eyes darted down to your nipples poking through the thin cropped shirt. “fuck.” he groaned. your eyes widened as he help himself balance on his forearms, caging you in between. 
suddenly his head was under the fabric of your shirt, his lips attached to your nipples. they were cold and hard, and in need of his mouth. his tongue swirled around your buds that were getting harder as he teased them. you gasped, moving up to discard of your shirt. 
“kyo!” you cried, wailing as he bit and sucked at the skin. “you think you can just walk around like this with your nipples pokin’ out and not expect me to say anything?” he growled. kyo sounded eager, not in his usual gentle and soft nature. 
“gonna make you cum from sucking your tits alone.” 
-
AKAZA
akaza walked into your bedroom at around 2 am. your window was open and you slept soundly in bed. he raised his eyebrow and sighed. 
how many times had he reminded you to lock your window at night… 
you never listened to him, always arguing with him and teasing him. he was never angered, though. he’d smile thinking about you as he worked throughout the day, following orders. you were his comfort space, the one he’d visit at night when he had nothing particular left to do. 
he walked into your bathroom like he owned the place, washing his face sighing while he ran a wet hand through his pink hair. 
things were calm and quiet. a part of him wished that in another life where things were easier, he could just do simple house chores with you. it wasn’t that simple, though. life was hard right now and he couldn’t take care of you the way he wished. he had to settle for this. 
coming in to your bedroom unannounced at night and snuggling with you while you slept. he listened to your soft snores and soft whimpers when you had a impactful dream. today was one of those nights. 
he knew you were having a wet dream when he began to smell the wetness from you. a scent of pheromones bursting into the air and clouding his judgement. he watched as your nipples got visibly harder through the thin camisole you wore. his mouth watered. 
you turned towards him in your sleep, whining and pulling him closer, grinding your cunt on his thigh. “fuck..” he whispered. 
“a-akaza..” you whined, half asleep. he felt his dick get hard, making his pants uncomfortable. he suddenly didn’t care anymore. you had given him permission to touch you in your sleep before but he never went through with it, feeling a tiny sense of shame to do that to you without your knowledge. 
but his judgement was clouded today. his day was rough and he couldn’t care less about morals right now. 
he lifted your shirt up, his chest rising faster and faster seeing you whine for him even in your sleep. a primal urge overtook him as he dove into your chest, mouth wrapped around your buds completely. 
he sucked and whined, two fingers dipping down the waistband of your sleep shorts and feeling the slick gathered in your panties. “you dirty, dirty girl..” he groaned. 
he couldn’t wait for you to wake up to the hickey’s on your chest tomorrow morning. 
AIZETSU
aizetsu was always sad. his eyebrows furrowed in sadness and worry. his zipped up the black nike tech in the mirror, unable to waiver the solemn expression on his face. 
he figured coming to see you would maybe fix his mood just a bit. 
the knock on your door at 2 am was a surprise. you didn’t get a call or a confirmation that someone would be showing up to your door this late. you took extra caution checking the peephole. 
the rush in your throat went down when you saw that it was just your solemn boyfriend, dressed in his usual tech. you opened the door, head tilted to one side as you invited him in. 
“zetsu, what happened?” you questioned. your boyfriend was often sad. he was quiet and didn’t speak much to others unless he had something significant to say. 
“nothing. i just missed you.” he softly spoke, staring down at the ground. your own eyebrows furrowed as you pushed him deeper into your apartment. 
“do you wanna cuddle with me?” you asked. 
he looked around nervously before nodding. you laid in bed, urging him to remove the hoodie he wore and just lay in his t-shirt. 
his strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling you in. aizetsu pushed his face into your chest, hoping he’d feel better. 
your fingers went straight to his dark locks, tugging at the strands softly. “what happened today, angel?” you asked. 
“sekido was making fun of me today.” he whined. his lips pouted, eyelashes fluttering to keep away a glimmering sheen of tears. “ ‘m sorry, zetsu. don’t listen to anything he says. he’s a dickhead.” you told your boyfriend. 
“can i suck your tiddies?” 
your mind felt like it broke. 
“w-what?” you asked. your boyfriend looked up at you, his eyes widened and brows furrowed as if he was ready to beg. 
“y-you heard me.” he whispered. you were right. you had heard his random and bizarre request. he had never asked before. in fact, you two hadn’t even done anything significant yet. 
“sure.” 
and suddenly your shirt was torn off of you, flung into a separate corner of the room. your boyfriends personality always made you forget how brawny and muscular he was. his body didn’t match his soft facial expressions and you could hardly recover from the whiplash you had received. 
aizetsu’s arms were wrapped around your waist and upper back, pushing your body into his face. he sucked your nipples harshly, no care in the world that it might have been hurting you or not. 
he licked and tenderly bit the skin, looking up at you with his brows this time pushed together to focus on the task. 
he planned on sucking your tits into making himself happy. 
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lis-likes-fics · 1 year
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The Dragon's Wife
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Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x bride!Reader Word Count: 4k words Kink: Breeding Warnings: NSFW, noncon, dark content, fingering, p in v, slight cum eating, first time, humiliation, crying kink, biting, multiple force orgasms, forced breeding, creampie, A/N: Happy Kinktober, everyone! I think this may be the darkest thing I've ever written, in terms of this is my first noncon. If you catch any warning I missed, please let me know. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this and the rest of my prompts for kinktober! Find the main masterlist here. Also A/N: I had to respost this shit twice but Tumblr fucking sucks and is hiding it. I hate this website sometimes... Enjoy!
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The large doors of Daemon's bed chambers shut behind you with a damning thud. Still wrapped in your wedding gown, the events of the night were still very fresh in your mind.
You were angry, outraged by the dishonor done upon you. Like some broodmare, your father gave you away to the Targaryen prince in need of a new wife after the last had passed "suspiciously".
It was humiliating, to say the least. You had produced no heirs for your house and "talked too much for your own good". Your father jumped at the chance to have this brute of a prince tame you. Perhaps you would be a "respectable lady".
But you would give neither of them the satisfaction.
"Are you going to stand there and stare at the door all night?" Daemon's voice spoke behind you, exhausted by you already.
You sighed. "Better than looking at you, dear husband."
You could hear his footsteps against the hard floors as he stepped closer to you. "Someone ought to teach you some respect."
You turned to face him so he could see the way you rolled your eyes. "Apparently, that's meant to be your job…seeing that I am now wed to you."
He gave you a hard look, his gaze dark and dangerous as his eyes rake up and down your body. A long silence filled the space between you as you stared one another down.
"Come here," he commanded, his tone stern but his voice quiet. yet
"No."
He tilted his head and a wicked smile took over his face. Amusement lit up within his eyes as a new goal took over him. He took a couple more steps toward you, stalking closer like some predator to its prey as he sized you up.
"Perhaps I will teach you some respect."
A chill ran down your spine, but you refused to stand down as you glared at him. He stood before you, raising a hand to touch your cheek. You smacked it away. "Don't touch me."
He breathed a laugh, looking you up and down. You moved to take a step back, to put more space between the two of you as an unsettling feeling settled into your skin.
But before you could lift your foot, his hand was wrapping firmly around your throat and pulling you close to him. You gasped out of shock, bringing your hands up to his own to pry it off of you as you stared wide-eyed at him.
"Such strong will you've got," he said, sighing deeply. "I wonder how easy it would be to break it." Your breath was shallow as you clenched your jaw. He hummed, moving his hand up in a harsh trail to your jaw, where his thumb and fingers dug into your flesh and made you hiss from the pain. "Your job is to produce my heirs, little cat, nothing more. You will do as I say."
You huffed. "I am not a whore."
"No," he said. "But you are my wife now…and you will breed if I say you will."
"I will not."
He laughed, a loud one deep in his chest as he pulled you closer by your neck. You were trembling in his grasp, the stubbornness turning to fear as his eyes trailed your face and stopped at your lips.
"You don't have a choice."
He shoved you away, and you stumbled to the ground. You stood quickly, trying to put more distance between you. But you had nowhere to go. You watched as he slowly advanced.
He backed you against the large table in his chambers, the wood digging uncomfortably into your back. He trapped you, grabbing roughly at your waist and regarding you with a primal grin.
"Wait," you begged, leaning back as you grabbed the table for support. "Wait, please. I'm sorry." He pulled back slightly, looking over you as he took in this new sense of fright. You swallowed thickly, staring at him as you trembled, tears pricking at your eyes and threatening to spill. You sighed shakily. "Please don't."
You received no sympathy as a wolfish grin took his face. "Look at you," he teased, laughing again as his hand found your neck again. "Not as strong as I thought then."
His lips crashed down upon yours, a bruising kiss that had lips mashing with teeth, breaking skin and filling your mouth with the taste of blood. You tried to push him away, grabbing at his arms and peeling them off you only for him to grab you again in a rougher grip than before.
You whined against his lips, still trying and failing to push him away from you. He lifted your chin, his hot breath enveloping your neck as he bared his teeth, burying them in your throat and making you yelp.
You grabbed at his hand uselessly. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your blood pump furiously beneath your skin. Desperate to remove him from you, you managed to shove him away with your foot. He stumbled backwards. You took no time to catch your breath as you turned to run. You didn't know where you were going, but you ran.
Daemon watched with an amused smirk, wiping his mouth and advancing toward you again. You hardly got far before his hand was hooking around your neck and pulling you right back against him, your back flush against his front as his hot mouth and breath lingered at your ear.
"I stand corrected," he purred, biting your earlobe.
You shuddered under his grasp. "Please," he watched a tear slip down your cheek. "Don't hurt me."
"Oh," he breathed, pressing his lips against the crook of your shoulder and savoring the way you closed your eyes and whined. "Where's the fun in that?"
He held your body against his own with a tight grasp around you, his arms wrapped around your body and over your arms as his hands roamed your figure hungrily.
It all happened so fast. And he was so uninterested before, you admit, you had become a little cocky with your words the more comfortable you became with your detest for him. You never expected anything like this to happen—although you probably should have.
His hands found the neckline of your dress, and with a monstrous tear, he ripped it down the middle until it pooled in rags around you. He removed each layer from you like some beast tearing the flesh from a quivering animal with its sharpened tooth.
And when you were bare, another rush of adrenaline filled your veins and built another fight in you, a fire that would soon be overcome by a larger, more furious one.
"Daemon, stop!" you shouted in false bravado, kicking your feet to get him away, only to feed his hunger for this enticing hunt you created.
His large hand groped your breast, and you clenched your eyes shut at the sensation of it. You were trapped, and you couldn't do anything about it as he walked you to the table and shoved you to lay on it. Your cheek pressed against the wood, and you could almost swear you felt splinters poking at your skin. But the wood was so smooth, you could have been imagining it.
He bent down, confining you once more as his lips and tongue and teeth clashed with the skin of the back of your neck, your shoulder, your back. He licked and sucked and bit until you were sure you'd be covered in bruises, the marks of his claim coloring your skin red and purple by morning.
"You taste magnificent, little cat," he purred before biting your earlobe once more. A cold tear ran down your cheek as you shuddered, and a dark chuckle slipped from his chest. "Such beautiful tears you've got. Like crystals."
You yelped as his hand smacked down on your ass, gripping the flesh immediately after in a vice grip that burned.
Your whole body jerked when you felt his fingers press between your thighs to feel your cunt, baring your teeth and biting back another whimper. "Oh, that's no good," he remorsed, acknowledging the lack of slickness between your thighs as his crude fingers continued to feel you. "We'll just have to fix that. You do not want to take this dry, I'll tell you that. Especially not when you're this tight. You've needed a good fucking, haven't you, little cat?"
You could hear the smirk on his voice, and it made your skin prickle, a chill running down your spine that soured and turned to fire in your belly when he shoved two fingers inside of you. You clenched around him and tried to hide your face away on the table.
"Daemon, please," you begged. "Please, please, please."
He thrust them deeper, exploring more of you as he listened to your stifled moans and cries. "I know, little thing. You don't want my fingers inside of you… you want my cock, don't you?"
You shivered as another cry shook you at that. He continued, "You do. I can see it. You want my hard cock inside of you, you need it." He shoved his fingers in deeper, adding a third that curled harshly inside you and allowed waves of arousal to coat his fingers. "You need my thick cock in your tight little cunt to fill you with my dragonborn sons and daughters."
He kept thrusting, his pace picking up faster and harder as he set a cruel rhythm. You couldn't help clenching around him, opposing the invasion as the searing pleasure tore through your body.
"You were so confident," he said, his voice suddenly right next to your ear, "until I got my hands on you. You were just begging for someone to put you in your place."
You gripped the edge of the table, wanting nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear, let the Stranger take you away from this cruel world and deliver you to sleep.
"Look at you," he snickered, pulling his hand from you with a sickening squelch. "Wetting my hands like a common whore. Perhaps you needed this more than I realized."
Your legs trembled, and you wrapped your arms around your head to cover your face, to hide away from him. You startled when you felt his hand reach out and comb through your hair, starting from the beginning of your scalp and working his way back until he suddenly gripped a handful of your hair at the base and pulled. He made you look at him, you closed your eyes and whimpered at the pain.
"Open your eyes," he said calmly, staring at your face as you refused. His grip in your hair tightened as his voice lowered to a dangerous register as he nearly growled. "Open your eyes, little cat."
You followed his orders, afraid of the consequences otherwise. He watched another tear join the rest of them streaked along your cheeks, your eyes wet and pathetic as he fed off your misery. "Well, you needn't worry," he whispered, faux sympathy poisoning his tone. "I'll fuck you like you need to be fucked."
He yanked at your hair again, pulling you up to stand and ignoring the way you cried at the pain. He led you to the bed, letting you go with a small shove so you stood in front of it. He gestured to the bed. "On your knees."
You stood frozen, covering your body as you hung your head. You were shaking. He didn't care.
"On your knees."
You bit your trembling lip, moving slowly as you set your knee on the edge of the bed and slowly moving forward until you were sitting as he told you: on your knees, humiliated and cold.
He pressed his hand to your back, and the rest of his body followed to hold you as he harshly kissed the back of your shoulder again, more teeth than lips. Then he pushed you forward so you held yourself on your hands.
"Look at you," he remarked again, another chuckle echoing in his chest. "I shall make a bride of you yet."
You listened to him strip, taking his sweet time to remove every piece of clothing he had from his body and let it drop to the floor like sacks. You waited, hating the suspense. And you flinched when his hand found your dripping cunt, slipping through your lips and leaving just as quick.
There was a quite suckling sound, and then he spoke again. "Mm, you should taste yourself. Such sweet nectar."
His fingers prodded at your lips, you sealed them closed as you tried to move your face away, but he wasn't having it. He smeared your slickness all over your lips and down your chin and cupped your jaw with his cruel fingers. "Taste it."
You let out a choked sob as you slowly opened your mouth. His fingers invaded your mouth the same way they did your pussy, thrusting harshly in and out between your lips as you tasted yourself on them. You breathed heavily around his fingers as he pushed down on your tongue, spread them apart to make your tongue lick between them, adamant on making you lick every drop of your arousal off of his hand.
He finally removed his hand, and you could breathe again as you hung your head and gasped. You felt your blood run cold at the sound of wet skin on skin, a steady shlick making you clench, rejecting what you knew was coming, what you knew you couldn't fight.
You expected him to say something, to whisper in your ear to make you shiver, to taunt you as he fed off your humiliation and loathing.
Without warning, he shoved his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one deep thrust. It was much worse than if he had warned you beforehand. You'd found safety in his predictability, his need to tease you gave warning to what he intended to do when he intended to do it. He'd taken even that from you.
He groaned as he settled deeply within you. "Ondoso se gods…" he muttered under his breath, taking your hips and pulling you back as he ground inside of you. "Now I know why you were so eager," he breathed. "This is a virgin's cunt."
You gripped the sheets of the bed and clenched, wanting to force him out but unable to. He was bigger than you, faster than you, stronger than you. He was carved by war, bled and seasoned by it. If you thought there was a chance you won this fight, you were dumber than he thought.
He pulled out of you, an agonizingly slow drag that emptied you out until he suddenly thrust back in with a harsh thrust. The pleasure burned. As his patience began to wear thin, he was rid of all his slow, tempered thrust and resolved to piston inside of you like a hungry beast.
His hips snapped into your ass with every thrust, in and out was his fast rhythm that split you apart on his cock. You gripped the sheets and squeezed his cock and cried as the ecstasy of his intrusion tore you apart.
You whimpered and moaned, unable to help the way your sobs left you as he grunted and groaned about how good he must be making you feel.
His hand snaked around your waist and between your thighs to find your clit, and he pressed down harshly as he moved to make you cum. The pleasure spasmed when he touched you and you hated it.
His relentless thrusts ached as he built you up. When you came, your whole body shattered and you cried out, your arms giving out as you fell forward into the bed and muffled your sob. Your thighs shook and it took far too long for the shocks of pleasure to simmer. You hated yourself for letting it feel so good.
A hand cracked down on your ass once more as he pulled you close again by the waist. "You fucking loved that, I could tell," he breathed. "You clenched around me so tight. Even now your cunt is sucking me in."
You pulled weakly at the bedsheets. "Daemon, please…"
"So sweet… begging for me like some cock-drunk whore," he smiled. "Oh, my little cat… I'm going to fuck my cum so deep inside of you, you'll feel me dripping out of you for days."
He pulled out of you, and you let out a breath. In the same breath, he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs wide with his calloused hands. You fought to close them, but to no avail—not to your surprise.
He spread you open and sunk into you once more, grasping your jaw with his hand shaped into claws as he made you look at him. He thrust into you, deep and fast, his breath almost like a groan in his chest. "Look at me," he ordered. You obeyed, albeit hesitantly, on the first command.
"Such obedience," he praised. "You love it when I fuck you like this? When I force open your legs and take what is mine?" You wanted to shake your head and throw your hands and shove him off, but you were trapped and already broken in enough. His free hand grabbed at your thigh and clawed into your flesh, tearing you apart like he was doing to you now.
"Of course, you do. I know you do," he continued. His hips continued to snap into yours, shoving deeper and rougher into you in a way that made it hard to contain moans that came from the sick pleasure curling within you, burning in your belly and fueling the tears in your eyes. But you were quieter than before, your sobs realizing they were getting you nowhere and accepting that this would be your life now. You could do nothing but lay there and take it as he fucked you, taking his pleasure from you like he would the spoils of war.
And he lasted too long. He held you down and kissed and bit and sucked and clawed at your flesh. He taunted and teased you, made you cum at least twice more with his insistent fingers as the pleasure seared in your belly like a corrosive flame ruining you from the inside out. You winced and whimpered and could do no more.
You didn't know how long you were there. It felt like forever, his relentless thrusts becoming numb to your sore body as you let him use you.
He sat up, pulling you into his lap as he fucked you in a newer, deeper angle. "I'm going to breed you now," he smirked, his strong hands keeping you close as he impaled you on his cock with a new determination. His white hair had fallen messily in his eyes by now, his lips pink and his eyes blown wide with lust.
"Would you like that? Would you like me to plant my seed in your quivering little cunt and make you an heir?" You stared up at him, your eyes tired as you watched him taunt you. Apparently, the question had not been rhetorical as his hand grips your jaw again and sets your head straight. "Answer me, little cat."
A war went off in your mind. If you said no, he'd likely to subject you to more horror, drag out the moment longer than he needed just to make you endure this torture a little while longer. If you came again, the shame would be so thick and so deep, you likely would not survive it.
But if you agreed to him, you would be admitting defeat. You would officially be his little plaything for him to use whenever he felt a little too pent up one moment or bored the next.
But another moment of this would bring more emotional turmoil than you have the heart for right now…
"Well?" he wondered, grinding his hips deep within you as he continued to claw your face, barely holding on enough as his head bowed with his thrusts. You whispered, but he just tilted his head to listen closer to your barely audible voice. "What?"
"Yes…" you whispered.
"Yes, what? What would you like, little cat?" he smiled wide, triumphant in his ability to break you so easily.
You swallowed thickly, your saliva like syrup at the embarrassment. "Yes, Prince Daemon… I want," a new, tiny sob choked out of you as the words stuck in your throat, "I want you to…to breed me."
The pride shone in his gaze like the sun, harsh and bright. "That's a very good girl, you are. I'm so very proud of you," he said as he kissed you roughly again. His hips began to snap harder into your once more, and you felt the unsteadiness of the rhythm, the desperation of the chase for his release hot in your belly.
And when he came, he pulled you down by his hips and pushed so deeply inside of you, it hurt. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, reaching his peak with a roar as he spilled his hot, fiery cum inside of your cunt and fucked it in to stay. You mewled and grabbed uncomfortably at his arms as you lay through the whole ordeal, hating his grabby hands and his thick, pulsing cock and his depraved sounds above you. The warmth filled you like tar.
He cursed under his breath in a language foreign to you. After grinding his hips for longer than he needed, he finally pulled out of you and put an end to your misery. You sighed in relief, laying back as he sat up and removed his heavy weight from your body.
He stared down at you, completely flustered and spent but well enough to tease some more. "Look at you," he shook his head. "Pathetic whore hungry for my cock."
You didn't look at him, turning your head to the side and laying there as he kept your legs open with his body between yours. He chuckled deep in his throat and smacked your side, earning little more than a near silent yelp.
You flinched when his hand found your cunt again, this time filled and smeared with both your cum and his. His long middle finger shoved inside of you and then back inside. With no warning, he placed his hand at your mouth. Another fight kicked through your veins, though noticeably less fueled than the last.
"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Open your mouth and see how well we taste together, little cat. If you don't, I have other things I can do with that little mouth of yours."
His threat was clear as day as you obeyed. Cracking your mouth open, he smeared your mixed release over your lips again and finally delved into your mouth to make you lick every single drop from his fingers. It was salty and sweet, and you hated it.
"Such a good, pathetic little girl, you are." He pulled his fingers from your mouth and sighed longingly. "Was that so hard?"
He shoved you off his lap, discarding you like trash as he stood to tidy himself once more. And once he finished, he blew out the remaining candles in the room and spared you not a single glance and not a single word more. He rolled over on the bed beside you and eased himself to sleep.
You lay there, staring at the sealing as the soreness in your limbs spread deeper and deeper until it reached your very soul. A heaviness took you, weighed down your heart until you were naught but a body on a bed next to a dark prince. A numbness ate away at your toes, at your fingertips, until the even numbness disappeared and was replaced by a terrible grief when the thoughts of the night flashed behind your eyes like a terrible dream.
And you began to sob. Softly, as not to wake Daemon and invoke him into another frenzy, you cried and hated the way it did not cleanse your soul. You belonged to him, his little wife, his little cat to prey on. You were just a dragon's whore now. Nothing more, nothing less.
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