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winterarmyy · 2 months

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Against All Odds | Part I

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Summary: In a medieval kingdom where magic and political intrigue are woven into the fabric of society, Y/N, the youngest daughter of a noble Earl family, finds herself in an arranged marriage to James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke. Known as the Winter Soldier, Bucky's reputation as a monster in war had instilled anxiety into Y/N's heart. But that fear quickly begins to crumble when she discovers that her husband is not the brutal figure society depicts him to be.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 8.1k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: fantasy/medieval au, i did not write this with much knowledge of fantasy nor medieval lore. I write it solely for plot and the couple dynamic lmao. if you're expecting full blown fantasy novel; this ain't it, man. anyways, 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), marking kink (i think), soft fluffy smut, a wee bit of dirty talk. soft!reader and even softer!bucky. (idk what else, so tell me if there's something i miss.)

P/S: This is the fic for an idea I had earlier this year. The first chapter will only cover the original post but what happens next is something you will need to look forward on the upcoming chapters. Enjoy your read!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N stood in front of the grand mirror in her chamber, her reflection staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes. The delicate lace of her wedding dress was the opposite of the twisting anxiety in her stomach. Today, she was to marry James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke of the kingdom, a man labelled to be more beast than human.

He was known as the Winter Soldier, a title whispered with both fear and awe. Tales of his gruesome feats in battle, his merciless brutality, and his cold, metal arm was deemed as a horror story for the children in the kingdom. People spoke of him as a monstrous weapon, a beast moulded by the Emperor to do his bidding without question or hesitation.

Y/N had heard the stories many times before; and it has always been a hushed conversation that floats around whether a ballroom of a gala, or at the tables of the garden parties, sometimes even in between the racks of books in the library.

They always painted a picture of a man who lived only for war, devoid of humanity.

She couldn't help but let these tales feed her imagination. What kind of man was he truly? Did he revel in the violence, or was he a prisoner to his fate? Y/N shuddered at the thought, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Her father, the Earl, had made it clear why she needed to marry him. It was a political manoeuvre, a strategic alliance to strengthen their family's position. The duke, Bucky's father, wielded considerable power, and their union would bring the Earl closer to the heart of the kingdom's influence.

And when he heard that the duke was looking for a wife for his bastard son, he knew that she would be perfect. That was when Y/N, the youngest daughter, became the pawn in this game. Her father's ambitions certainly outweighed any consideration for her feelings or desires.

Y/N had always longed for a marriage of love, a dream she clung to despite her circumstances. She was a hopeless romantic through and through; much like her late mother. She remembered the nights when her mother would read to her and her siblings, spinning tales of prince charming and valiant heroes.

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth as her mother’s soothing voice filled the room. Y/N and her siblings, her older brother Eric and sister Clara, lay tucked under blankets, their eyes wide with wonder.

"And then the prince, with a heart full of love, swept the princess into his arms, vowing to protect her forever," her mother read, her voice a melodic whisper.

Y/N, her eyes sparkling with innocence, declared, "When I grow up, I want to marry a prince charming too!"

Clara, ever the practical one, nodded in agreement. "Me too! He has to be brave and kind."

Eric, being a little boy, scrunched his nose in distaste. "I don’t want to get married. I want to be a knight!"

Their mother chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N’s forehead. "It does not matter if he is a prince charming or a humble knight. As long as you marry the one you love, that is what truly matters."

Y/N's heart ached at the memory. How she wished her mother were still here to guide her through this terrifying day. The gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present.

"Lady Y/N, it’s time," one of the maids said softly.

Y/N took a long and deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She followed the maid down the corridor, her mind a swirl of emotions. Reaching the grand doors of the church, her father waited for her.

"Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. "Do not mess this up. Just endure it. And you'll be fine. This is the most useful you can be to our family."

Her heart sank further; yet she nodded obediently.

Compared to Y/N, her elder brother, a celebrated swordsman, and her sister, a master in the art of business, had always outshone her in their father's eyes. Y/N's talent with languages; ancient and modern – was seen as a useless skill, something that brought no tangible benefit to the family.

Her father had never been cruel when she was younger but everything changed when her mother died. In fact, everyone in the family had lost a piece of their soul when she left. Now, his lack of affection only increases the number of scars on her heart.

The doors opened, revealing the crowds of high-ranking nobles; who were mostly strangers – staring at her. Some were judging her; some pitied her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for her family, for the greater good. But the little girl inside her who dreamed of prince charming certainly felt a pang of sorrow.

As she walked down the aisle, her legs trembled, and her hands shook so violently that she had to clasp them together to steady herself. From afar, she saw the silhouette of the man she was destined to marry. His tall and huge figure stood out compared to anyone in the hall. As she got closer, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too afraid to look up at her husband-to-be.

When she finally reached the altar, the priest began the ceremony. His speech was long and dragging, giving Y/N too much time to entertain her growing curiosity that she dared to glance up at the man next to her. Even from behind the veil, she could see his towering and broad-shouldered build, his presence commanding the room. His long hair was slightly untamed, and a scruffy beard framed his face. His metal hand, glinting in the sun that leaked through the church’s windows, was a jarring reminder of the rumors that surrounded him.

There were no heartfelt vows to recite to each other; only their promise of "I do" was exchanged. And that was the first time Y/N heard his voice. It was deep and resonant, sending a shiver down her spine; but there was a certain warmth in it that contrasted sharply with his fearsome reputation.

When the priest announced their union and Bucky lifted her veil, Y/N was struck by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes. They were a brilliant, mesmerizing blue, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze tender and almost reverent. Slowly, he placed one hand gently around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle against her skin.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in, her breath catching in her throat. When his lips met hers, they were soft, warm, and so unexpected. She could smell his cologne; an earthy, woodsy scent mixed with a hint of something fruity; like peaches or tangerines. It made her head spin and her heart jumped all at the same time.

The kiss was gentle and unhurried, very much differs to the forceful gesture she had feared. As he pulled away, Y/N found herself blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her fear momentarily replaced by confusion and a surprising awe. She was caught off guard by the tenderness of his touch, the way his lips had brushed against hers so gently.

Could the rumors about him be wrong?

"I’m sorry if I startled you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear."

Y/N blinked slowly, trying to process the sudden shift in her emotions. The fear that had gripped her so tightly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a confusing mix of relief and intrigue. Her hands, which had been trembling, now rested at her sides, feeling strangely steady. Her eyes met his, and she could see softness in his gaze that contradicted the harsh rumors she had heard.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. She took a deep breath, her cheeks getting warmer as she processed the endearment he just called her. On the other hand, her mind was racing as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the fearsome figure of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky’s eyes mellowed even further, his gaze glazed with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the weight of the room. A warm smile spread across his face, and he held her gaze with a comforting assurance.

“Good,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle affection. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The reception that followed was a blur of faces and polite conversation. Y/N moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bucky than the rumors suggested. Every time she caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile that made the butterflies inside of her go wild.

As the evening drew to a close, they were escorted to one of the Emperor’s palaces, a grand and opulent residence that was to serve as their temporary home before they traveled north to Bucky’s territory. The palace, with its lavish furnishings and golden accents, seemed to mock the uncertainty Y/N felt. She had been assigned a chamber to prepare for the night, and the palace maids were bustling around her, helping her into a set of elaborate, far-from-modest lingerie.

The palace’s maids’ whispers and side glances did nothing to ease her growing anxiety. Their condescending tones and occasional snickers were laced with cruel speculation about how roughly Bucky would treat her. The more Y/N overheard, the more her apprehension grew. Despite the gentleness Bucky had shown her earlier, she found herself doubting its sincerity.

Could he really be the caring husband he appeared to be, or was it all just an elaborate show?

The maids finally left, their laughter fading down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the grand chamber. Her heart raced, and cold sweat formed at her brow as she sat quietly on the edge of the ornate bed. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. The room felt enormous, its sheer size heightening her sense of isolation and dread.

The door creaked open, and Bucky entered the room. Y/N’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the heavy, measured footsteps approaching. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her body tense and her mind a swirl of panic and unease. She almost held her breath entire when she felt the slight indentation of the mattress beside her.

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice was soft and coaxing, a distinct difference to the coldness she was expecting. “Look at me.” He continued. She hesitated momentarily; torn between obeying and disobeying but ultimately decided to raise her eyes to meet his.

The sight of him; his upper body bare, revealing a tapestry of scars and the stark metal of his prosthetic arm; made her breath hitch. Her eyes traced the lines of his faded wound, particularly the jagged marks where his shoulder met his metal arm. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow and concern. Her fingers, almost of their own accord, reached out to trace the contours of his chest and shoulder.

Bucky let the innocence of her touch to trace the most tainted parts of him; however noting her trembling eyes, he misunderstood her apprehension. “I want you to know, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “that I will never hurt you. You are safe with me.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart aching. She felt an unexplainable pain growing in her chest as she gazed at him. Her fingers still lightly touching his scars; her eyes, full of unshed tears, silently asked a question she was too afraid to voice. “Does it still hurt?” she wanted to ask, her expression betraying her concern.

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he took her hand in his, holding it tenderly against his chest. “Don't worry. It does not hurt anymore,” he said with a reassuring smile.

The connection between them was electric, charged with a deep, unspoken understanding. Bucky’s gaze was steady and filled with a depth of unspoken emotion that took Y/N’s breath away. “I know this is difficult for you, Y/N,” he said, his voice laden with sincerity. “But I promise, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His words and the way he looked at her left Y/N feeling both comforted and overwhelmed. For the first time since their wedding, she felt a genuine, flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, their marriage could become something more than a mere political arrangement. Bucky’s assurances, his gentleness, and the tenderness in his eyes began to dissolve the fears she had harboured since the beginning of their union.

As they sat there, the weight of the night’s expectations seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing trust. Y/N had entered this marriage with a sense of duty, convinced that she would have to endure the consummation of their union as a matter of obligation. But Bucky’s tenderness, his understanding, and the sincere reassurance he had given her began to change her perspective.

The idea of fulfilling her marital duty had initially felt like a burden she had to bear. She had steeled herself to face it with resignation, convinced that it was merely another part of her role in this arranged marriage. But now, she found herself reconsidering. The idea of being with him no longer felt like an obligation but a possibility of something more profound and intimate.

Y/N hands softly toyed with the delicate strings of her sheer lingerie, pulling it softly as her doe eyes signalled her husband of her intention. Bucky, sensing the shift in her demeanor, looked into her eyes with a mixture of concern and affection. “Are you sure, my dear?” he asked softly. “I want you to feel safe with me and not afraid of me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. “I am,” she said with quiet conviction. “I feel safe with you, James”

Bucky's hand naturally went to brush her hair behind her ear, “It’s Bucky, my dear,” he corrected softly.

“Hmm?” she asked, slightly puzzled.

He chuckled warmly. “You can call me Bucky from now on. It’s a nickname only a selected few who I trust and love knows.” Her eyes sparkled at his choice words; trust and love.

“Bucky…” she tested the name on her tongue, the syllables feeling strangely intimate. Upon hearing his name from her lips, Bucky’s heart swelled, almost bursting from his ribcage. He hummed in approval, “That's right, my dear. I’m your Bucky.”

His reassuring smile grew wider, his calloused thumb gently stroke her cheek causing a shiver to strum all over her nerves; sending an emerging desire. One she had not fully acknowledged until now. The way he looked at her, the pure and raw endearment in his eyes, and the softness of his touch stirred something deep within her.

As the moments passed, Y/N realised she wanted this. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to explore the warmth of his hands, to connect with him on a level she had longed for. The yearning for his touch, which had been dormant under layers of fear and uncertainty, now surged forward with undeniable intensity.

Without fully understanding why, Y/N found herself leaning closer to him, her breath coming in soft, eager gasps. She whispered, her voice barely audible but full of longing, “Bucky, please.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and a tender light filled his blue eyes, “May I?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as he held out his hand. There a shy hesitation before she finally placed her hand in his.

With a gentle but firm pull, Bucky lifted her onto his lap, his careful hands beginning the process of undressing her. Each movement was full of care, yet almost deliberate, as he slowly removed her dress, leaving her in nothing but the flimsy lace piece covering the sacred area between her thighs.

Bucky's eyes roamed over her bare skin, admiration clear in his gaze. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes traced every curve and contour of her body. The intensity of it made her feel both vulnerable and cherished, a potent combination that sent pleasurable shivers all over her body.

Seeing the hunger in his blue eyes, she felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of him; the same once she noticed at the church; warm and comforting. Her breath quickened, and she found herself unsure of what to do or where to place her hands, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Noticing the subtle panic, Bucky reached for her hands and guided them through the thick strands of his long hair. “You can touch me as you please, my dear,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he reassured her. He leaned in to kiss her bare shoulder, then moved up to her neck, along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, the softness surprising her. The intimacy of the moment, combined with his gentle kisses, began to dissolve the last remnants of her anxiety. The feel of his lips on her skin was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of sensation she never felt before.

Bucky’s hands, still careful and tender, caressed her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breath hitched as he kissed the valley of her breasts; soft gasps escaping her lips as Bucky begins to lick and sucked on her delicate skin; likely trying to mark his claim on her.

Every touch and little kisses he left sent shivers straight to her already dripping core. And by the time his lips grazed her nipple, her body jerked forward; in response, unintentionally dragging her aching pussy against his thick thigh.

His lips latched around her right nipples as he licks and sucks the hardening skin; lapping at it as if he was feeding from her. The sensation was overwhelming, yet she found herself leaning into his touch, her body responding to his gentle ministrations. The grip on his hair grew tighter as the strings of moans poured out her lips.

Bucky’s large hands find their place on her hips, guiding her to gently rut on his thigh. Trusting him, she followed his lead as he continue to grind her clit through the thin fabric she was wearing; introducing the sweet friction in on her core. Bucky pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a mixture of subtle affection and desire. “You’re doing wonderfully, my dear. Can feel your pussy leaking on me. Do you feel good?” he murmured as he dipped back to kiss her neck.

Oh, he was filthy with his choice of words but surprisingly she was not mad about it. In fact she didn’t even notice the whimpers purring in her throat upon hearing those sinful words.

It was as if Bucky recognized that needy sound she made; it caused a smile to spread on his lips. She can feel it grow against the skin in between her breasts, “My my, is my sweet wife feeling needy right now?” he teased playfully as he effortlessly lifted her up and laid her down on their bed.

Placing himself in between her soft thighs, his lustful gaze trained on her naked body; he admired the marks he has left on her breasts, the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunt, and the way her breath shuddered when he teasingly grind his harden cock against her.

Y/N can feel the contrast of his hands on her thigh, one warm, one cold. Her eyes drew her attention from his hands to his gorgeous face. Oh, the pure unfiltered lust in his eyes was pulling her in so effortlessly; seducing her to submit her body and soul to him completely. Shying away from his stare, she dragged her view down to his chiselled jaw, his broad chest then slowly to his beautiful abs.

She admired his body as much as he did of hers.

But what was more prominent out of all, was the way she could feel his erection throbbing against her heat. Blood went rushing towards her face when Bucky guided her hips against the confinement of his cock, which in response; causing her hands naturally found their way to cover her face in embarrassment.

A deep chuckle bubbled from Bucky’s throat; he found her reaction to be absolutely endearing. He leaned down towards her, one hand holding himself up and another tenderly pulling her hands away, then drawing it close to his chest, right against his beating heart.

Having nowhere to run, Y/N’s teary eyes drowned in his ocean blues, “Don’t hide from me, dearest.” He peppered a delicate kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, then on her cheek. She could feel the prickly sensation of his beard grazing on her skin. It was ticklish and a little bit painful and yet weirdly enough, it felt good that it naturally made her want to nuzzle it more.

But before she could, Bucky’s lips were already making their way down to her stomach. Her body responds to how soft his lips trailing down; and further down until she could feel them on her clothed core. A surprised yelp fell from her lips as he tore the last piece of clothing from her.

“Now, hands away from your face, my dear. I want to see that beautiful eyes of yours when I eat your sweet pussy.” his voice was honeyed when he made himself comfortable in between her thighs. His hands reached upwards to intertwine both of her hands with his own; acting as a restraint to restrict her from covering her face.

Y/N almost sat up upon hearing his words, “Eat what now?”, the question she had in mind was unable to be vocalised; due to her confusion. Prior to marriage, she had learned about sex and its purpose in her marital studies. Unbeknownst to her, the knowledge she had was few and limited for academic purposes only. Which means there were only the few illustrations of penetration depicted in books and the process of how children are bred as a result of it.

So what does he mean when he said those words? While she was still lost and confused, Bucky on the other hand was in his own world; completely and utterly transfixed on the glistening need of her cunt. She was dripping wet; the juices covering her slits perfectly; her scent was intoxicating and if it weren’t for the fact that this is her first time, Bucky would’ve ate her like a man starved of touch. But, he can’t do that. Not tonight. He wanted to be gentle; to cherish her, to love on her.

Seeing the darkened clouds in his eyes as he stared at her private, Y/N braved herself to ask, “What are you– ohh hmmm” her sentence ended up transforming into a toe curling moan as she felt Bucky’s wet tongue flattened across her weeping core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he dragged her clit into his mouth and sucked. He strummed her clit with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and he took the opportunity to push his face further into her cunt; licking and sucking quite the literal soul out her.

It felt amazing but her self-consciousness won the battle in her head, she let out a whimpering plea, “Buc--bucky st-stop. That’s dirty.” as she gripped on his hands, trying to escape from his grip. Bucky growled against her in response to her futile protest. The sweet vibration only caused her pleasure all over her fluttering core.

When Bucky pulled away for a moment; it caused her to feel a sense of loss. “It’s not dirty, my dear. In fact, it’s so sweet.” His lips moved to kiss on her inner thigh, murmuring against her skin as he left yet more of his marks on her, “So fucking sweet.” He releases his right hand from hers, just to rub his thumb on her clit, slowly dragging it in between her slit; smearing her wetness all around her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled to the sensation of his rough movement of his thumb and a string of shaky mewls fell out of her.

“But..” she tried to protest but immediately stopped when Bucky brought his soaked thumb to her mouth. Her lips were wet from how he gently smeared the juices on her, “Taste yourself.” He lured her softly. Hesitation glints in her eyes as her cheeks redden. Bucky’s eyes grew tender at her watery ones, he whispered lowly, “Sweetheart, do you trust me?”

She does; but she does not trust her own voice to not come out sounding like a needy moan, so she simply nodded. Bucky’s pink lips spread into a smile, “Good girl. Now, open up.” he coaxed lovingly.

Y/N opened her mouth as she was told and let Bucky slip his thumb inside; he was not shy to smother her juices across her tongue, coaxing her to suck on it. To get a taste of what he was having. “It’s sweet”, she thought to herself. A muffled moan purred in her throat at the thought of her husband enjoying the taste of her.

Bucky smirk grew at her reaction, “Tastes good huh, sweetheart?” he pulled his thumb away, leaving her nodding to his question. “Now are you going to let me enjoy your pussy?” his brow quirked when he tilted his head to the side. How can she deny him now? Her eyes glazed with need as she replied, “Yes, please”.

Her mouth falls open in anticipation as a low moan creeps up her throat. Bucky’s tongue slips past her folds, she watched him between her legs, savouring her pussy with his unfiltered groans vibrating against her sensitive spot. Breathless moans and incoherent pleads fall from her mouth as the soft and firm tip of his tongue circled her swollen pearl and flicked it. Bucky’s hands went to her hips, guiding it in time with her own movements, giving her partial control to set the pace.

“Buckyyyy.” She gasped as she alternated between wanting to push his head away or keep him in place. Meanwhile, the man in between her thighs had lost himself; consumed by pure desire the more he drank from her cunt. His tongue moved faster against her clit when he noticed the beat of her throbbing cunt increased. She was going to come. He was sure of it.

The way that she was practically creaming on his tongue drove him near feral. He kept lapping at her juices as if it was the sweetest honey he ever tasted; fuck he even sucked her clit in hopes to force out more of her nectar to leak; then he’d lap on it again.

The sweet cycle had pushed Y/N over the edge, her eyes rolling back as pleasure and her hips slightly lifted as pleasure surges through her veins.“Oh oh Bucky please please.” She didn’t what she was begging for as she chanted his name. “I’m gonna, ‘m gonna–“ her words died as she squealed; her body trembling in pleasure.

His tongue moved faster against her clit; her cum was dripping out of her; coating his beard but his frantic licks didn’t stop even when she continue to gush on his tongue.

“Bucky please, sensitive..” It was too much; her orgasm, her swollen clit, his tongue. Everything.

Unfortunately for her, Bucky was far gone to stop now. He had the taste of her cum, now he wants nothing more than to have it again. Despite her protest, Bucky held her hip down, interlocking his hands across her stomach to keep her in place and continue to lick and suck on her overstimulated cunt.

Her whiny pleas didn’t come across as a sign for him to stop; instead it kept him going causing him to bury his face further in between her legs. His cock continued to throb in his pants, probably leaking with so much pre-cum and in need of some sort of relief but he ignored it. He wants nothing more than for Y/N to cum on his tongue again.

And that is exactly what happened next.

The moment she fell over the edge, Bucky pushed her even harder against him as her whole body spasmed. He maintained his pace on lapping up at her all throughout her high as her hands went from his hair to the headboard, trying to hold her limp body upright. Y/N took a moment to gather herself together, panting heavily as she regained their senses; while Bucky was swift to pull his pants off and throw it to the side.

He grabbed on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his heavy leaking cock nestled between her aching pussy. “Are you sure about this, my dear?” his hot breath fanning against her neck as he gently ruts into her heat. Even though Bucky can see the darken lust in her eyes, he still wanted to make sure that she was sure of her decision.

Y/N’s heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself smiling, a genuine smile that reflected the warmth she felt inside. She pulled him closer and kissed him, pouring all her newfound trust and affection into the kiss. “Yes, Bucky. I am very sure. ”

Bucky quickly responded with equal passion, his tongue slipped in between her lips; exploring the warmness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. Their muffled moans filled the silenced room, his hands moved to caress her sides, drawing her even closer before breaking away from the heated kiss.

Resting his forehead on hers, his eyes trained on her beautiful face; not wanting to miss his chance to witness the pleasure contorting on her expression. He nudges her clit first, rubbing it slow and sensual before trailing down to her entrance. Gradually, he inches closer, he pushes in and through the tightness of her sacred channel.

Delving impossibly deep, her tightness wrapped around his thick cock until the tip of him reached the deepest parts of her. The sudden feeling of fullness on her untainted pussy caused her to experience both pain and the delightful sensation inside her. The ecstasy of being so knitly connected to each other caused both of them to simultaneously let out moans and groans of raw pleasure.

Bucky waited for her to adjust to his size; leaning down to pamper her with the softest kisses and praises that tears started to swell in her eyes. It was as if Bucky knew exactly what she wanted to hear, how she wanted to be treated and what makes her feel good.

“You’re doing so good, my dear.”

“Look at how perfect your pussy’s taking my cock. So perfect.”

“Made for me aren’t you, sweetheart?. Made to be loved by me, made to be stuffed full of my cock.”

“I promise you’ll be safe with me, Y/N. Always.”

When Y/N finally gave him the permission to move, Bucky kissed her pouty lips and murmured sweetly, “Thank you, my dear.” His hands travelled to find her ankle; which he then gently prop her calf over his broad shoulder. He started pumping in and out slowly, letting her get used to the friction.

Bucky couldn’t help but to groan out to the feeling of her wet hole gripping his cock ever-so-tightly. It was slippery and dripping, that he almost completely slid out of her. Gripping her closer he continue ramming himself back in, deeper, harder; sliding in and out of her at an even pace. Each force of his cock causing her body to jerk in ecstasy; hitting that good spot in her so perfectly.

“S-shit, sweetheart,” he moans deep and heavy as he felt her pussy tightening around him. His metal hand slid in between them and his thumb hones in on her clit. The coldness of his finger made her jolt at first but when he proceeded to rub and pinch on it, everything suddenly started to feel too intense; so incredibly good.

With his fingers assaulting her clit, each thrust of his cock and every deep guttural moan and groan coming from Bucky, she felt her release was growing closer. Bucky also started thrusting faster and harder; he knew he was about to come. Especially when he can feel how much pre-cum has been leaking inside her.

He leaned and rested his forehead on hers, his needy ruts became more and more irregular when her pretty doe eyes looked up at him, “Cum for me, my dear.” his lips brushed against Y/N’s as he coaxed her to her sweet release. His thrusts got harsher and deeper and the friction of his metal finger working on her clit got her cunt to frantically tremble around him, “I wanna feel you milk my cock, sweetheart. Then, I’m gonna my pump cum inside you until you’re leaking.”

Although his words were debauched to no end, however Y/N could sense his genuine affection for her. She felt his sincerity in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the silenced gaze they shared. Overwhelmed with pleasure, her nails dragged across Bucky’s back as she moaned and screamed out his name; letting the high took over her body.

“Fuck,, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum!” groaned as he took in the sound of her pleasured mewls. He ruthlessly grinds into her, savouring the feeling of her cunt tightened around him. With one last rut, he thrust his cock, balls deep inside and let his warm white strings filling her up to the brim. His cock twitches in her fluttering cunt, his legs tensing with every small grind he makes, groaning lowly at her as he bites down on her shoulder, almost drooling on her as he emptied himself completely into her.

Y/N continued to let out strings of soft moans as he pulled out from her leaking cunt; all swollen and sensitive. While she thought she could finally catch some breaths, she didn’t notice the way Bucky was biting on his lip at the sight of his cum dripping out of her, or how his hands lazily tugging on his now hardened cock.

“Dearest?” Bucky hovered above her as he cradled her by her flushed cheeks. She smiled sweetly as she leaned to his touch, “Yes, Bucky?”, she was anticipating him to utter more of those soft words and praises to her; but instead his lips curled into a devilish grin when he slid his cock back into her, immediately pulling a long sinful mewl of his name from her. Bucky hummed approvingly in response; he gently brushed his lips against hers, “May I fill you up again?”

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Y/N slowly stirred awake. She reached out, instinctively searching for the warmth of her husband beside her, but found the space empty. A pang of loneliness touched her heart, but it was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw a bouquet of bluebells, her favourite flower, placed delicately on the bedside table.

Next to the bouquet was a note. With a small smile, she picked it up and began to read.

"My Dearest Y/N,

I hate to leave you alone this morning, but I must ensure our journey home is smooth and safe. I trust you slept well, and I promise to return to your side as soon as I can.

Yours always,

Bucky"

The words written on the note were filled with sincerity and reassurance that made her heart flutter. She smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she wondered how he knew bluebells were her favourite.

Just as she was lost in thought, the door opened, and the palace’s maids entered the room. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and impatience, clearly expecting to see a frightened and bruised young bride.

However, when they saw Y/N's skin, they temporarily froze in their spots. Her skin was indeed bruised, but each one of them recognized the marks for what they were: love marks, not signs of harsh abuse that they were expecting. The traces of Bucky's possessive love were prominent all over her neck, chest, and inner thighs, leaving Y/N blushing as the maids, too, found themselves flushed with embarrassment.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” one of the older maids muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation. Another maid, with a more condescending sneer, huffed. “Looks like we lost the bet, ladies. Who would have thought the beast could be so... tender?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and pride. She could feel their resentful glances and knew they were not pleased with the outcome. The marks on her body were a testament to the affection and desire Bucky had shown her, and despite the initial fear, she now wore them as symbols of the unexpected bond they had begun to forge.

The head maid, who had been the most vocal the night before, now seemed to handle her with an edge of bitterness. The other maids, who had been so quick to judge, were now silent, their eyes wide with resentment.One of the younger maids, braver than the rest, couldn’t hide her frustration. “Well, my lady, I suppose you’re alright, then?” she asked, her voice barely masking her disappointment.

Y/N looked at her, considering the appropriate response. If it was up to her, she ought to punish every single one of them for not knowing their place. Unfortunately, they were not her maids to begin with, but the palace's staff. Otherwise, she would likely fire each one of them.

The memory of Bucky’s affection and care filled her heart, leaving no room for anger or resentment. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle way he had treated her made the maids' behaviour seem petty and insignificant.

She could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on her skin, the way his hands had caressed her so delicately, and the sound of his reassuring voice. Her body was still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's intimacy. Her skin bore the marks of his love, not of brutality, and each bruise was a testament to the passion they had shared. It was completely different to the vile expectations of the maids.

A small smile playing on her lips despite the blush that still coloured her cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, "I am quite alright."

The maids exchanged annoyed glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. Their muttered disappointments were tuned out as Y/N focused on the lingering warmth from the night before.

She couldn't hear a single thing except her heart beating to the thought of her husband. She missed him already. Who would’ve thought she’d be swooning for him so soon?

She found herself yearning for his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the sound of his reassuring voice. The memory of his gentle kiss and tender words lingered in her mind yet again, making her heart flutter.

As the maids continued their work, Y/N hoped they would at least perform their duties well enough to cover up for their childish behaviour. She wanted to be ready to see Bucky, to greet him with the same warmth and affection he had shown her. Despite their rudeness, she resolved to focus on the positive, cherishing the newfound bond with her husband.

Bucky stood at the head of the table, his stern expression and commanding presence filling the room. He was reviewing the logistics of their journey home, his voice cold and decisive as he issued instructions to his knights. His trusted knight, Sam, was detailing the possible hotspots for bandits they might encounter along the way.

"We'll likely face trouble here," Sam said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We should send some of our best men ahead to clear the path."

"Agreed," Bucky responded, his tone unyielding. "Deploy the knights in advance. Ensure the path is secure before we proceed."

Sam nodded and continued outlining the plan. He paused, expecting Bucky to reconfirm, but noticed a change in his leader's face. The harsh lines softened, his eyes filled with a tender warmth, as he stared intently at something across the room. Before Sam could look or utter a word, Bucky turned and walked away with determination.

Sam followed Bucky's gaze and understood immediately. "Ah, that's why," he muttered to himself as he watched Bucky approach Y/N. The change in Bucky’s demeanour was striking. He moved with a grace and warmth that was at odds with his usual stern and imposing presence.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of Y/N. He admired her beauty with a gaze filled with awe and adoration. The way he looked at her was as if he was seeing a vision he had longed for, a rare and precious gem that had finally come into his life.

As he extended his hand toward her, a gesture usually seen as etiquette but now entirely with different meaning, especially with the hearts bursting our of his blue eyes. Y/N’s face lighting up with a shy smile, took his hand; almost too eagerly. Bucky's fingers closed gently around hers, his touch tender and reassuring. The contrast between his usual, fearsome reputation and the gentle way he interacted with her was profound, making it clear that his feelings for Y/N were deeply genuine.

Bucky kissed the back of her hand, his lips softly caressing her knuckles. "My dear," he greeted her, using the endearment he had chosen when they first met at the altar.

The scene seemed like it was pulled raw from a romance novel that the surrounding staff and knights simply watched in shock and awe. "Did he just..." one knight whispered, eyes wide. "Called her 'my dear'?" another finished, equally stunned.

Sam, who had witnessed firsthand the monstrous side of Bucky in war, found himself in a state of utter disbelief, jaw dropped loose. He had seen Bucky’s sword painted blood-red, his face splattered with the gore of countless enemies. The Winter Soldier was a force of nature on the battlefield, his brutal efficiency leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Sam recalled the sight of Bucky’s cold, unyielding eyes as he cut through foes without hesitation, his armor and weaponry gleaming with the blood of those who dared oppose him.

And yet, here he was, the same man who had struck terror into the hearts of many, now standing before Y/N with a tenderness that seemed unimaginable. Sam could hardly believe his eyes. The disparity was pronounced and bewildering. Bucky’s expression was soft, his movements gentle as he held Y/N’s hand in his.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/N said softly, her eyes shining with affection. She truly did, it would be a lie that she didn’t felt the ache in her heart when she woke up alone that morning. The emptiness beside her had felt profound. The bed still carried his scent, a lingering warmth that whispered of his recent presence. Even though the separation had been brief, as evidenced by the thoughtful note and the bouquet of her favourite flowers he had left behind, the loneliness she felt was palpable. His absence, however fleeting, had created a void that left her feeling incomplete.

Bucky’s heart seemed to burst with emotion. He couldn't care less about the gawking staff surrounding them as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She initially froze, caught off guard and embarrassed, but soon melted into his kiss with a blossoming confidence.

As their lips met, memories of their tender and passionate night together surged through Bucky's mind. The way she moan his name, the taste of her cum, the tightness of her pussy gripping on his cock, the way his cum leaked out of her, every single sinful scene replayed in head; infinitely. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and he found himself nearly losing control. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath uneven and his gaze filled with an unspoken hunger.

"God, what should I do with you, hmm, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered, his voice laced with seduction as he continued to place gentle kisses along her cheeks and jaw. His lips brushed softly against her skin, whispering how much he had missed her and expressing a wistful desire to stay wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed just a little longer.

Y/N’s soft giggle rang out as she felt the roughness of his stubble against her delicate skin. The sound was like music to Bucky's ears, brightening his mood and filling him with a profound sense of joy. Despite the joyful exchange, he reluctantly ended the sweet torment, his kisses lingering just a moment longer before he pulled away.

“We should be ready to begin our journey shortly,” Bucky said, his tone shifting to a more practical note when e turned to Sam, who had approached during their moment of intimacy.

“Y/N, this is Sam Wilson, he is one of my trusted knights.” Bucky introduced, his gaze shifting to his wife. Sam gave a respectful nod to Y/N, a hint of surprise still evident in his expression from witnessing Bucky's affectionate display. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Sam, appreciating the introduction. “The pleasure is mine, Sir Wilson.”

Sam, sensing that the formality was unnecessary given their imminent interactions, decided to ease the situation. “Just Sam, my lady,” he said with a friendly tone. Y/N repeated his name with a touch of amusement. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

Bucky, observing the growing camaraderie between his wife and his trusted knight, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. The easy familiarity between them seemed a bit too casual for his liking. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Sam a warning look. “Watch it, Wilson.”

Sam, not missing a beat, chuckled at Bucky’s protective demeanour. “What’s the matter, my lord? Can’t handle a bit of friendly conversation?”

Y/N, noticing the playful tension and Bucky’s slight irritation, couldn’t help but laugh. The contrast between Bucky’s usually soft demeanour that Y/N had witnessed and his current protective stance were both endearing and amusing. Her laughter lightened the mood, making Sam’s teasing even more enjoyable.

Bucky's stern gaze softened as he watched Y/N’s laughter, though his protective instinct remained palpable. Steering the conversion back to the preparations, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth despite his earlier warning.

“I trust you can escort my wife to the carriage,” Bucky said, his voice serious but tinged with a hint of a smile. “However, I expect you to maintain proper distance and adhere to these additional guidelines.” He paused, ensuring his words were clear. “No unnecessary physical contact or overly familiar behaviour. And if you could, avoid any casual conversations that might be misinterpreted.”

Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief, shaking his head with a bemused expression. “Seriously, Barnes? You’re laying down rules for me to keep my distance from your wife now?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Consider it a precaution. I’d rather not have any misunderstandings.” Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes as he complied. “Understood. I’ll make sure to follow your... guidelines.”

Y/N watched the exchange with amusement, her earlier shyness melting away into a warm appreciation for Bucky’s protectiveness. The scene, tinged with a touch of comedy, only deepened the connection between them.

Bucky, intent on making a point to Sam while expressing his affection, pulled Y/N close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The gesture was both intimate and deliberate, a subtle yet clear indication to Sam that she belongs to Bucky. “I’ll join you shortly, my dear,” Bucky said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he gazed into her eyes.

Sam, unimpressed by Bucky’s display, rolled his eyes at the seemingly childish antics. “This way, my lady,” he said with a hint of impatience. Y/N nodded in agreement but paused before turning her back on Bucky. With a loving smile, she whispered, “I’ll see you later,” before following Sam.

Bucky watched as Sam guided Y/N away, his gaze lingered with a mix of affection and something much deeper; an unspoken sadness. As their silhouettes walked further and further away from his sight, a sombre glaze settled over his eyes.

Beneath the surface of his composed exterior, his heart ached; the was a silent reflection of a pain he had hidden deep within his heart. It was a lingering sorrow that had shadowed him ever since he stood at the altar, the weight of unvoiced grief clinging to him as he gazed at his future bride.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Wondering why he was in the feels at the end? We’ll know it soon enough. I’ll see you in the next parts! Thank you for reading!

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier!bucky #medieval!bucky #duke!bucky #grumpy!bucky #soft!bucky

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sgtbradfords · 2 months

Text

something wild and unruly

Pairing: Tyler Owens x reader

Summary: You and the Tornado Wranglers seek shelter from the tornado inside a theater that was most certainly not up to modern building codes.

Warnings: life or death situation, minor character injury, hurt/comfort, dirty talk, flirting

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve written an x reader, but after watching the theater scene in Twisters, I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. Enjoy! :)

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‘This is it.’ you think, pushing yourself further up underneath a row of theater chairs as the sound of a freight train grew louder.

In the two years that you had been working with The Tornado Wrangler, you had witnessed Tyler and Boone have numerous, exhilarating, and successful intercepts with one of nature’s most destructive forces, but always from the safety of your vehicle several miles away. Your job of keeping up with the ever-evolving data was rather tedious and very important, but it didn’t always require you to be in close proximity with the rotating column, which was something you preferred. Especially when staying back allows you to capture the beauty of the storm from behind a lens.

For a moment, you allow yourself to go there, to imagine what this tornado would look like from the safety of an open field. In your mind, the massive wedge wasn’t wrapped by sheets of rain, making it one of the most photogenic you had ever captured, even though it was obliterating everything in its path. Through the screen of your camera, you would be able to see whole trees, sheets of metal, planks of wood, as they circulated through the air.

Dexter yells something from the other end of the row, his words unintelligible as it pulls you out of your reverie, reminding you that you didn't have to imagine the destruction because you were living through it.

You adjust your sweaty palms along the base of the chair in front of you, muttering underneath your breath that everything was going to be okay. It was only going to last a few more seconds, right?

“Shit!” cries out a familiar voice as the screen at the front of the auditorium is pulled away, revealing the beast which rages outside.

Turning your head slightly to the right, you glance towards the floor of the row behind you.

Tyler is frowning prominently, you might add, but that wasn't what unnerved you. No, what chilled you to the bone was the unmistakable fear in his glaucous colored eyes. Because if the Tyler Owens was scared, then the world as you know it was ending.

The vibration in your palms intensifies as a decades worth of old dust and stale popcorn is sucked out of the building. There’s a small part of you that hopes that that’s the worst of it, that this little podunk would remain otherwise unscathed. But like a fool, the tornado proves you wrong by pulling the row of chairs in front of you away, leaving you suddenly exposed.

“[Y/N]!” You hear Tyler yell, but by then it was too late.

You scream, a loud, guttural sound of peril that is lost to the wind as one of your hands loses its grip on the chair. Frantically, you look around for something, anything, that would be worth holding onto in a last-ditch effort in saving your life, choosing to grasp the leather of the armrest that was just within reach.

The thought that you were quite literally about to die, crosses your mind as your body is lifted off the sticky floor and into the air.

“Tyler!” you scream, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold on for forever.

You watch as furiously he twists and turns, firmly wrapping the toe of his boot around the base of the chairs behind him, before reaching out towards you.

With both hands, you hold onto his wrist for dear life, your weightless body swaying in the air as more debris flies past you. It feels as though the moment lasts a lifetime, time slowing to a standstill as Tyler attempts to pull you back down, sending an intense throbbing sensation up your arm.

You don’t know how long you hold on, but just as quickly as it began, did your buoyancy end, sending your body crashing to the floor.

“Holy shit [Y/N],” Tyler says, kneeling in front of you. “Are you okay?”

“What's your definition of okay?”

It was a miracle that you hadn’t flown out the gaping hole at the front of the theater. So, were you okay? Not by a long shot, but was it better than someone finding your mangled body in a tree somewhere? Absolutely.

You watch as his concern deepens, his brow pulling further inward as you give him a shaky smile. “I’m fine Cowboy, at least I will be.”

The look understandably fails in easing his worries. He glances towards your thigh. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” You tell him, looking downward to find your jeans now tainted a crimson color thanks to a small jagged wound that ran across your thigh. You should probably be concerned about that, right? “I am. I’m bleeding. And I'm missing a shoe.”

“I need a first aid kit!” Tyler yells a little too loudly, causing you to wince.

“It's not that bad.” To prove a point, you move to your feet, only for your legs to wobble underneath your weight.

Tyler rolls his eyes, “You resemble a newborn giraffe.”

“A cute newborn giraffe.” You giggle, easing yourself down into a theater chair. “I think I'm in shock.”

Raising a brow, Tyler kneels on the ground before you, first aid kit now in hand. “You think?”

So what if you were in shock or that you had what looked to be an insignificant wound that needed to be treated? There were people out there, in far worse condition than yourself, that needed help.

“Better think of your happy place sweetheart, cause this is going to burn like hell.”

Tyler murmurs low apologies under his breath when you release a hiss as the alcohol pad sanitizes the cut, but the pain was short-lived as tenderly, he continues to provide treatment.

You watch him closely, noting his features; the way his nose was furled, the way his lips thinned, or how his brow furrowed as he focused intently on putting a couple butterfly bandages over the open wound. It’s the same look he gets when trying to decipher where the hell the team was going to chase for the day. You shake your head at the imagery.

“All done,” He says, giving you a panty melting smile. Damn him. You can feel your cheeks warm, heart beating wildly inside your chest as you move to your feet. “Does the patient want a sticker or a sucker?”

“What the patient would like is to get out of here.” While you long for the opportunity to take a hot shower, you know that it'll be hours until you find yourself in the bathroom of a motel room. Instead, you brush off the dust off your clothes. “But for future reference,” your lips twitch into a smirk as you lean in close, whispering. “I prefer to do my sucking on my knees.”

It takes everything in you to walk away calmly, to not look back, not even once, but that doesn’t mean the intensity of his stare has no effect on you. More than once, does your knees threaten to buckle, but by some miracle you manage to keep your head held high.

It was going to be a long couple of hours.

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens #twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters imagine #fanfic

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chosok-amo · 3 months

Text

HOW TO FUCK 101 .ᐟ

megumi fushiguro you're gojo satoru's sister and megumi fushiguro was the kid that your brother adopted— you're two years older than the boy. one night you caught him having a wet dream about you and he's never fuck before, so you decided to make his dream come true.

beware. nsfw!megumi. 19!megumi. 21!fem x reader. virginity loss. degrading. raw sex. suggestions words. name calling. unprotected sex.

your eyes flutter, try to adjust from the brightness of your lamp— blink for a few times before your blurry vision becomes clear. you look to your left and right around your room. “what—oh fuck..” you groan as you feel the sore in your throat. again, you groan before sitting up and wince when the pain starts kicking you in the head.

“oh fuck! I'm gonna kick satoru for allowing me to drink this much,” you curse your brother under your breath— head resting on your palm for a moment before you stand up abruptly, unintentionally making the pain worse.

“that's it, I'm never gonna drink alcohol ever again!” you make a promise to yourself— which is a lie by the way. slowly, you walk out of your room to the kitchen.

you grab a glass of water to drink. “why is it so quiet in here?” you mumble to yourself and put the glass down after you finish. realize your house feels so quiet and calm. only the sound of soft wind and the cricket faded in the background. only the moonlight filling the room through the big glass wall.

you're about to go back to your room when you hear someone whimpering softly, followed by a moaning and someone calling your name in a whisper.

the sound of soft whimpers, mewled moans and whispers of your name in the dead of the night had captured your full, focused attention— and that curiosity and curiosity alone was the only thing that made you venture down the hallway and closer and closer to the source of the sounds.

while you were unsure of who it was, there was a small, little part of you that was already forming an idea of *who* it was. as silent as possible, you pad closer to his door, careful to avoid the creaks of the floorboards, before leaning in and listening closer, wondering if you had really heard it or if it was all in your head.

but then, faintly, you hear it again—the whimpering, the faint whispering of your name, and a shiver runs down your spine.

the skin of your forehead crinkles as your eyes narrow. your hands make contact with a cold metal door handle. the sound of the door crickets faint as you push the door of megumi's room open. there he is, sprawling on his bed.

megumi's form is illuminated faintly by the moonlight trickling in through the windows, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him asleep on his bed, with nothing but boxer. he's sprawled out on the sheets, limbs splayed out as if in the grips of a dream, the blankets pushed off and tangled at the foot of the bed. his chest rises and falls in soft, rapid breaths, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, caught in the thralls of a dream— his face, flushed and twisted in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

there's an odd tension in the air, something that make your heart flutter in your chest.

his hands move, caressing his body, his neck, and his stomach until it goes down to his dick that only cover with a black boxer, hugging his thigh perfectly. you can see the outline of his dick faintly, how each stroke makes it bigger.

“oh, y/n, fuck..!”

you stupefied. the sound of megumi keeps on moaning your name while moving his hand on his dick, squeezing it gently and your brain work fast enough to know he's having a wet dream about you.

megumi's moans grow louder, more desperate, as his hand continues to stroke and squeeze his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers. his hips twitch and buck slightly, riding out the pleasure his hand is giving him as he calls out your name over and over again.

you smile to yourself, and suddenly feel the happiness rush through your blood. you know megumi is a virgin, never had his first kiss, even a girlfriend, but here he is having a wet dream about you while unconsciously moaning your name, don't realize how loud he is.

“megumi,” you wake him up.

the sound of your voice tears megumi from the clutches of his vivid dream, and he blinks blearily up at you, his mind sluggish with sleep. his hand stilling on his crotch as he blinks up at you in a daze. a deep flush creeps across his cheeks and down his neck as he realizes the state he's in, the evidence of his dream still pressing against the fabric.

“y/n...?”

“what are you doing here?” he asked you, dripping in sweat.

“no, megumi, what are you doing?” you asked him in a teasing tone as you pointed to his hand that still squeezed his bulge with your eyes.

megumi's cheeks flush a deep crimson, his eyes widening as he realizes the compromising position he's in, and the state of arousal he's clearly in. he tries to pull his hand away, but the lingering warmth and moisture make it cling to the fabric.

“I... I was just...”

“i can help you, you know..” you smiling sweetly to him.

before megumi got a chance to talk you already laying your body beside him, head resting on his shoulder. your warm hand touches his arousal making megumi moan in pleasure, for a second throwing his head back. his reaction making your smile bigger.

“y/n—stop..!” he stutters.

megumi's pleas fall on deaf ears as you continue to touch him through the fabric, your movements growing more confident and demanding with each passing moment. his breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your hand bringing him closer to the edge far sooner than he expected.

“y/n...”

you stop but your hand doesn't move as you look at megumi. you pushed yourself up a little, with one arm working to support your body. the spike-haired boy's hooded eyes gaze upon you before shifting to your bare leg that resting above his left thigh. megumi can feel the warmth of your pussy behind that thong you use on his thigh.

“megumi..” your honey voice calls him softly.

his blue eyes instantly meet yours. his hot breath close enough to fan your face. “do you want me to help you?” you whisper, alluring. your hand touches his cheek, moving your thumb across. “do you want me to make your dream come true?” again, you whisper, forehead barely touching.

his eyes look down to your lips before back to your eyes, “yes,” he breathes out. a smile growing beautiful on your lips, “okay.” you stuck out your tongue a little before giving megumi a sloppy kiss. “kiss me,” you nibbled his bottom lips making the boy startled for a moment before he closed his eyes and kissed you back.

megumi's lips meld against yours, his hesitation quickly giving way to a growing passion as you nibble and tease. his own tongue darts out, exploring the warmth of your mouth. his hands find their way to your waist, fingers digging in slightly as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss.

you take his right hand, bring it to your boobs, guiding him to squeeze it. with a shaky exhale, megumi complies, his hand hesitantly cupping the supple flesh of your breast through the fabric of your top. his touch is tentative at first, unsure, but as he feels your softness, he grows bolder, thumb brushing over the hardened nipple hidden beneath.

megumi shudders at the sound of your moan, his breath hitching as he realizes the effect he has on you. his grip on your breasts tightens, fingers rolling and teasing your nipples. your moan sends shivers down megumi's spine, causing a jolt of pleasure to rush through his body. he gasps slightly, pulling away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. “you like that?” he asks in a husky voice, fingers still massaging your breast.

his heart races, pumping blood through his veins and into his growing erection. the sensation of your breasts in his hands is exhilarating, the excitement making it hard to breathe.

you nodded, “yes, megumi, keep going,” you wanted him to keep on track, feeling the warm hand of his playing your hardened bud. your tongue tingling with his as the saliva drops from the gap between your mouth and his.

your hand moves, sending an electric jolt into his blood with each stroke until it lands on his bulge, squeeze it. in an instant megumi groan vibrates on your lips.

at your words, megumi can't help but feel a sense of pleasure and satisfaction. his confidence grows, fingers teasingly tugging and rolling your nipples. his other hand moves down to grab your ass, pulling you closer and grinding you against his growing erection. a groan escapes his lips as his mouth is assaulted by the sweet taste of saliva mixing with yours.

megumi breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. both of your tongues stick out a little, a string of saliva attached form one another. his chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, eyes closed as he continues to massage your breasts. your hand on his bulge sends a shock of pleasure through him and megumi can't help but groan at the sensation.

“lay down, let me take care of you.”

just like magic, megumi lay down on his back. his breath hitch when your hand moves inside his boxer. your cold hand directly touching his cock and just by that megumi feel like he was about to cum. he closed his eyes, and a long moaning left his pink lips.

“never felt your dick touched by a girl, does it feel good, ’gumi?”

“y-yes...” megumi stutters, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. his hips jerk reflexively as your cold hand wraps around his throbbing cock. the sensation is overwhelming, sending electric shocks through his veins. “it feels...amazing...” he manages to whisper, his voice trembling with desire.

as you free his cock from the confines of his boxer, he can't help but let out a low moan of pleasure. the feeling of your touch is electrifying, and megumi can feel every nerve in his body come alive. “fuck!” the moment his dick is free you can see how big his cock is, thick, veiny, swollen, angry red on the tip, standing tall.

seeing how your reaction after seeing his cock megumi feels kind of proud. your eyes popeyed and the way your cheeks became crimson red sending a smile on megumi's face. you can feel his cock throbbing and twitching under your touch. “do you love it, y/n? is my dick big enough for you?” like a kid he ask you.

“so big megumi, I wonder how it feels to be inside my pussy,” you smile at him as you move your hand on his cock up and down, giving it a light squeeze.

a low growl escapes his lips as he hears your words. the thought of being inside you is almost too much to bear. he takes your hand and guides it up and down his shaft, showing you how he likes it. “mm, yes, just like that,” he moaned.

“like this, gumi? feel good, hm?” you give his hard-rock cock light pressure as your thumb caresses the tip, smearing the pre all over his tip.

“fuck, y/n, that feels amazing...” he moans, bucking his hips up into your touch. the feeling of your thumb on the tip of his cock is almost unbearable, causing him to twitch and throb in your hand.

“fuck,” he groans as you keep touching him. he can't believe how good it feels. he watches as your thumb spreads his precum over the tip of his cock, making it slick and ready for more. he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes locked on yours.

been alive for nineteen years and he never knew getting a hand job was gonna bring him to the seven skies. his head spinning with only thinking about how good it must feel to fuck you, his throbbing dick being hugged by your velvet wall. the thought made him more horny than before like he was in heat.

“ahh... y/n, you're going to make me cum so hard if you keep that up,” megumi warns through gritted teeth, his eyes fluttering shut as he loses himself in the pleasure of your touch. his cock pulses and twitches in your hand, the tip glistening with precum.

“cum for me gumi..”

“ahh, fuck... y/n...” megumi moans loudly as he cums hard, his body trembling and a string of semen shooting from his cock onto your hand and his stomach. he watches in amazement as you keep squeezing his cock, milking every last drop from him.

“good boy, good, good boy,” you whisper in his ear, nibbling his ear before going down to his neck, biting and sucking his soft, sweaty skin while your hand keeps on messing with his cock. megumi lets out a high-pitched whine as you bite and suck at his neck, his cock still semi-hard and sensitive from the intense orgasm. “y/n, ahh! that feels so good, but I'm so sensitive right now...” he gasps, his fingers digging into your shoulders.

his hips buck against your hand, wanting more and more. he loves the feeling of your teeth and lips on his neck, sucking and biting at it, leaving hickeys.

“i know you want me, your body couldn't lie, look at you moving your hips against my hand, wanting for more,” you tease, leaving his neck in the void as you look at his midnight blue eyes. “it is your first time getting a hand job, megumi? I can't blame you if you want more,” you whisper seductively. your feet tangled with his as your half-body above his side. your hand slowly going up and down on his cock. a soft whimper escaping his lips as your hand continues to stroke his sensitive cock.

under the moonlight megumi's cheeks became crimson red, flustered as you caught red-handed. seeing how sweet your smile to him makes him wonder what those lips could do besides talking too much.

as his cheeks burn a deep shade of red, unable to deny or confirm your teasing words. he finds himself moving his hips, fucking your hand as he watches you with those alluring eyes. he loves looking at you and can't look away from your face. he feels so vulnerable and exposed at this moment, but also incredibly turned on.

“words, megumi..”

megumi's breathing becomes erratic as he nods in response to your question, his eyes locked on yours. the sensation of your hand on him is foreign yet incredibly pleasurable. “y-yes, it's my first time... with anyone,” he admits, his voice trembling slightly as your skilled hand works its magic. megumi's breaths quicken, his chest heaving with each stroke, desire coursing through his veins. “I-I want more, please...”

“tell me what you want, gumi, I'll do anything for you.”

megumi's hips buck involuntarily as your words ignite a fire within him. he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as his moans grow louder. megumi's gaze intensifies, his lips parting as he struggles to form coherent words. the desire in his eyes is palpable as he looks up at you, his body arching into your touch. “I-I want your mouth on me, please... s-suck me, taste me,” he mumbled.

“anything you want baby,” you bit his jaw before positioning yourself between his legs— spreading it open a little more. you lying there, cheek resting on his cock as you look at him, smiling, sending butterflies fluttering in his stomach. megumi groans seeing the state of yours, shining under the moonlight.

“do I look beautiful like this, gumi?”

megumi, can't help but let out a low, guttural moan at your question. he reaches down, his hand gently caressing your hair as he stares down at you with a mixture of lust and affection. “Yes, y/n...you look incredibly beautiful like that,” his voice barely above the whisper. for a few seconds, he admires you before his eyes darken with desire as he nods fervently, his voice low and husky when he responds. “so stunning, y/n. so fucking beautiful, just like this.” his hands move to grip your hair, gently tugging you closer to his cock.

megumi's eyes glint with a feral intensity as he pulls your head closer to his cock, his breath hot against your hair. he rocks his hips slightly, his length nudging the back of your throat as he grunts. “open up for me, y/n...”

with a subtle growl, megumi tugs on your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper into your warm, inviting mouth. he leans back against the bedrest, his hips instinctively bucking forward, seeking more of your lips and tongue on his aching cock. “fuck, y/n..”

megumi's fingers tighten in your hair as he gently but firmly pushes your head down further, his cockhead nudging past your lips, the tip brushing against your tongue. he hisses through clenched teeth as he feels your mouth envelop him. “that's it, baby, take me deeper...”

megumi groans loudly, his breaths quickening as you work your magic on his cock. your tongue swirls deftly around the head, flicking at sensitive spots and causing him to shudder. “fuuuuck...y/n, just like that…”

as you move your mouth up and down, swirling your tongue around his length, megumi can't help but let out a string of filthy curses. he's panting heavily, gripping the sheets underneath him tightly with his free hand. your long nail pressed against his thigh hard.

with an eager groan, megumi begins to thrust his hips upwards, slowly at first, then quickening the pace as if he refused to let you breath. he lets out a moan as he watches you take his cock in your mouth, feeling the wet heat of your tongue wrapping around his length.

his hand tugging on your head rough enough to make you moan sending a vibration to his cock. “oh, fuck!” megumi groans as he throws his head back. your hands grip his thigh and try to push your head away but megumi doesn't seem like he's on the same page as you. “no, y/n, don't— fuck!” his grip on your hair doesn't fade when his palm is clamping down on your throat. with light force, you thrust his cock back into your throat, choke you in the process as you feel the pressure of his palm squeezes your throat.

megumi's grip tightens around your throat, his thumb pressing against your windpipe as he starts to fuck your face with increasing urgency. his cockhead hits the back of your throat with a wet slap, making you gag and choke around him.

“take it all, y/n...”

megumi's eyes are wild with lust and possessiveness as he watches you struggle to breathe around his cock. his grip on your throat tightens, just enough to make it difficult but not impossible, as he starts to thrust into your mouth with increased urgency. “y/n, my perfect little cocksleeve...” he smiling to you.

megumi's hips snap forward, plunging his hard cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. the wet, slurping sounds of you gagging and choking around him fill the room as he fucks your face relentlessly, his grip on your hair and throat unrelenting. “fuck, yes!”

tears mass around your eyes, threatening to rain on your flush pink cheeks. hooded as you look at megumi, eyes never leave each other. smile never leave, “so perfect y/n, your pretty face getting fuck by me. cry for me, cry for me y/n...” his hand on your hair before moving slowly to wipe your tears away.

“that's right, y/n,“ he coos, wiping your tears away with a gentle stroke of his thumb before returning his hand to your hair. “cry for me, let me see how broken you are from taking my cock like the good girl.” seeing your tears only fueled his desire, the twinge of guilt, but it was shoved back down and ignored. “you're so pretty, y/n... pretty when you cry, pretty when you choke on my cock...”

your tears only heighten his arousal as he continues to thrust into your throat. his touch is gentle, despite the harshness of his thrusts, as his hand gently brushes away the tears that manage to escape your eyes. his heart races, knowing how he has the power to make you cry and he loves this power.

the sister of gojo satoru's, the special-grade sorcerer here in his room, getting fuck in the face by a virgin boy. seeing the strongest become the weakest under his touch, megumi had never known the feelings before until now. the thought only brings him so much joy and pride.

megumi's hand moves to grip your hair, tighten it, and starts to thrust harder, chasing his orgasm. his balls slapping against your chin with each brutal thrust. “almost, ah fuck— there, y/n...” he growls, his voice strained with the intensity of his impending orgasm. “h-here it comes, y/n...” with one last hard thrust, megumi cums deep down your throat, filling you with his warm release as he continues to hold you in place.

“take it all.. my perfect little cumdump...”

he emptied his ball into your throat, filling it with his cum beautifully before he pull his cock out. you gladly gulp his hot seed whole before sitting up. your finger touches the side of your lips, sucking a tiny drop of his cum that remains on there. “so sweet,” you smile at him, face wet from the crying.

megumi watches intently as you eagerly suck his cum from your lip swallow his cum and then lick your lips, savoring the taste, a possessive gleam in his eyes. he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your wet face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “you look so beautiful, all flushed and covered in my seed...” a satisfied grin spreading across his face. he stroke your cheek, his touch gentle compared to his rough handling moments ago. “so cute, licking my cum from your lips...”

you crawl to his lap as he happily hugs your waist. his large warm hand soft and gentle brushing your hair, hoping it could ease the pain from tugging it too rough. your arm clinging around his neck. “let me see, baby, did you swallow it all?” obedient, you open your mouth.

megumi leans in, his eyes locked on your open mouth, inspecting it for any remnants of his, his work. a pleased hum escapes him when he sees none left behind. “good girl, swallowing every drop like a good little cocksleeve for me.”

“i am, now give me a kiss,” you demand. megumi raises an eyebrow at your request, a hint of possessiveness flashing across his face at your request. “you want a kiss after I just treated you like a whore?” he asks, his voice low and husky. his lips curling into a slight smirk before he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a possessive kiss, his tongue invading your mouth to taste the remnants of his cum.

while kissing your hand move to open the buttons of your white shirt and toss it somewhere you don't pay any attention to. leaving you with nothing but a black tong.

megumi's eyes glimmer with lust as he breaks the kiss, his gaze traveling down to your exposed chest. “like that, huh?” he murmurs, his hand trailing up your bare side, his fingers tracing the curves of your breasts, his thumb brushing over a hardened nipple.

megumi's hand trails down your body, slipping between your thighs and rubbing against the fabric of your black panties. “such a needy little thing,” he comments, his smirk growing wider. “you want me to fuck you, don't you?” you nodded eagerly.

“fuck me, fuck me with your virgin dick.”

megumi's eyes darken with primal desire at your words. he yanks your panties down, exposing your slick, bare pussy to his hungry gaze. megumi’s fingers twitch, a dark hunger flashing across his face. “you’re so desperate for it, aren't you?” he whispers against your lips. “so filthy, begging for my virgin cock.”

“yes, please megumi, fuck me,” you begged him. knowing you're gonna be his first sending an electric jolt in your blood and the more you thought about it the more excited you are. megumi smirks as he sees the desire and desperation in your eyes, his cock throbbing for the nth time at the sight of your wet, bare pussy. “I'll fuck you,” he says, his voice hoarse with need. “i'll fuck you so hard gojo gonna know how such a slut his sister is.”

megumi pushes you back onto the bed, his hands roughly gripping your thighs as he positions himself between them. he trails his thick cockhead through your dripping folds, covering his cock with your essence, teasing you with the promise of penetration.

he wastes no time, aligning his throbbing cockhead with your entrance. he grunts as he enters you, breaking his barrier. he freezes for a moment, his body tensing in both pleasure and pain when his cock throbs, fully embedded inside your tight, wet heat.

“oh fuck!”

the new level of pleasure sends megumi to the bridge of death, he can't move, he doesn't want to move. he wants to appreciate the pleasure, the warm gummy wall of yours hugging his cock. you can feel him twitching and throwing a veiny cock touching every corner of your pussy.

“fuck, you're so tight,” he mutters, his voice heavy with a mix of pleasure and pain. he groans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he slowly keep his composure and starts moving in and out of you. his hips rocking back and forth, creating a gentle rhythm that sends waves of pleasure through your body.

“fuck, so big— Ngh! so.. so big!”

megumi chuckles darkly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he picks up the pace. he thrusts harder, his cock driving deep into your pussy with each stroke. “i know, i know... you're a tight little cunt, aren't you? gonna make me cum so hard...” his thrusts becoming faster and harder.

“yes, yes, faster— fuck.. me.” you choke on your own saliva as you keep moaning.

“fuck y/n, you're such a slut, asking for my cock like that..” megumi smirks as he speeds up, his hips thrusting harder and faster into you. his thrusts becoming more forceful, pounding into you with a reckless abandon. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the room.

megumi can't help but be drawn to your bouncing breasts as he fucks you relentlessly. he leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.

“fuck, you're so hot,“ megumi grunts. his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking and biting it gently as he continues to fuck you. his other hand reaches up to grope and squeeze your other breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy.

your hand gripping on his hair fistful. the pleasure of getting fuck by his big cock and his mouth on your nipple making you seeing stars. this new side of megumi you never know exists is making you feel something new.

once he was only the boy who your brother adopted a few years ago. shy, timid, introverted, calm, always collected and respect older— except your brother, he can't stand that guy, , megumi fushiguro, hanging around with the first-year, yuji Itadori and nobara kugisaki.

but here he was fucking you to oblivion and lost his virginity. swearing, cursing, and treating you like a slut you are, degrading you with no shame, relentless assault on your body. “you like that, don't you? you love being fucked like a little whore.” he grunts, his voice rough and unyielding. megumi's head jerks up from your breast, a look of wild abandon in his eyes as he sees the intensity of your reaction.

seeing the way your eyes rolled back to your brain mouth-opened, you nodded, “so good, yes— I'm— fuck!!” you can't say another word, suddenly became dumb just from his cock. megumi's face splits into a savage grin, his hand reaching up to grip your throat as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. “that's right, you dirty little slut,“ he growls.

“my dirty little slut.”

stopping only to flip you over onto your hands and knees, presenting that deliciously plump ass of yours to him. megumi grabs onto your hips, using them to guide his cock back into your dripping-wet pussy. without waiting for you, “here it comes,” he grunts, slamming back into you hard, watching as your tits bounce with each thrust.

“fuck!” you scream.

now feeling his cock the fullest inside your pussy, bigger each second. your back arch from the sudden filled, eyes closed tight. megumi watch every bits of your experience through the mirror Infront you his bed.

"fuck, your pussy is so tight," megumi groans, his thrusts getting harder and faster as he watches your body writhe in pleasure. never taking his eyes off of you, megumi watches as your body reacts to his cock. the way you arch your back, the little gasps and moans that escape your lips, it all goes straight to his head. “you love it don't you? my cock filling you up completely,” he smirked.

his hand is gripping your throat, guiding your face to look at the mirror, “open your eyes for me baby,” his deep voice ringing in your ear. “look at you, taking my cock like a good little slut. I knew you were a dirty whore at heart,” he whispered in your eyes, bent down to you as he continued watching you from the mirror. his smile grew wide as you smiled in your reflection.

“you know me so well, Gumi,” you sang happily.

megumi's smile only grows wider as he hears you call him by his pet name. “I know you better than anyone else,” he says, thrusting his cock deeper into you. “you're mine now, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it.”

“i'm yours— Ngh.. I'm, fuck!” you can't even finish a sentence.

megumi chuckles, his grip on your throat tightening as he fucks you harder. “that's right, you're mine,” he growls, his eyes locked on your reflection as you gasp and moan beneath him. his hand still wrapped around your throat as he continues to fuck you from behind.

“gumi, I wanna—”

“don't you dare cum until I give you permission,” megumi snaps, his grip on your throat tightening slightly. “you're mine, and you'll cum when I want you to. now, be a good little girl and keep taking my cock like a good little slut.” he lays on his back while positioning you on top of him, facing the mirror. his hand on your thigh as he guide you to move.

“ride my cock, y/n,” megumi growls, his hand gripping your hips as you start to move up and down on his shaft. his other hand finding your breast, kneading it roughly as you begin to move on top of him. “show me that pretty face while you take my cock. let me watch you get fucked senseless in the mirror. show me how much you love taking my cock.”

megumi's eyes are fixed on yours in the mirror as you ride him harder and faster, his hands guiding your hips up and down on his cock. his breathing becomes heavier, his abs tightening with every thrust.

“that’s it, baby…”

megumi suddenly grips your hips hard enough to leave bruises, pulling you down onto his cock with a loud grunt. “fuck, yes, just like that,” he growls, his face twisted in pleasure and dominance. “oh, y/n, so good, fuck me so good..”

megumi grunts, his own orgasm building as he watches you ride him hard in the mirror. "you're going to cum soon, aren't you?" you nodded, you're too-fucked to say a word. he smiles as a string of your saliva land on his bare chest, mouth half open from the pleasure.

“cum for me, baby.”

megumi's grip tightens on your hips as his orgasm approaches, a low growl rising in his throat. “I’m going to cum inside you, baby,” he pants, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror.

with a final, brutal thrust, megumi spills his seed deep inside you, his hot cum coating your insides as he groans in pleasure. “fuck yeah,” he hisses, holding you tight against him as his orgasm wracks through him.

“take all of it, baby.”

megumi's cock twitches deep inside you as he cums, filling you up with his hot load. your eyes roll back in your head as you moan, riding through your own orgasm as he pins you down on top of him. “that's right, baby,” he grinds up into you harder, the angle and intensity pushing you over the edge. “cum for me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. “show me how much you love my cock.” you scratch his cheat the moment the edge hit you. a long moan leaves your dry throat.

megumi's hands roam down your body, gripping your hips and pulling you tight against him as he catches his breath. his lips find your neck, planting soft, wet kisses there as the two of you lay tangled together on the bed.

megumi's chest heaves with ragged breaths as he holds you close, his spent cock still buried inside you. “you took my cum so well,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. “now turn around and straddle my face so I can taste you,” you sitting on his face without thinking too much, do not scare if you're suffocating him.

megumi's hands grip your thighs as you turn around, his tongue lashing at your clit with renewed hunger. “cum for me, again baby,” he demands, his eyes dark with desire. “I want to feel you squirt all over my face,” his voice vibrates in your pussy.

you move your hips to his face, grinding on his nose as you feel it rubbing on your clit. your hand took a fistful of his jet black hair while the other squeezed your breasts. “fuck yeah, ride my face like that,” megumi growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he focuses on your clit, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

“t-that's right, baby,” you grunts.

his hands roam up your body, fingers tweaking at your nipples roughly as he hears your moans filling the room. his hands going down to gripping your ass tightly as he pulls you down onto his face, forcing more pressure onto your clit. his tongue probes deeper, swirling around in delicious circles as your orgasm builds higher and higher.

his tongue thrusts in and out of your dripping folds, savoring your and his sweet nectar and making you buck and moan uncontrollably.

“more, gumi, fuck.. more.”

“more? beg for it,” megumi challenges, his voice rumbling against your sensitive clit. he increases the pressure of his tongue, swirling and flicking it over your nub as he continues to eat you out greedily. he suckles on your clit hungrily, his teeth grazing lightly as he flickers his tongue over the sensitive nub.

“please, gumi. want more, want to cum,” you beg desperately, tugging his hair.

“then cum for me," megumi growls, his hands digging into the flesh of your thighs as he intensifies his oral assault. he slurps and sucks, his tongue darting deep inside you as he works to push you over the edge. “do it, baby. cum all over my face.” his hands moving up to grasp your breasts firmly, pinching and rolling your nipples as he continues to feast on your pussy.

“Ahh, fuck!” you reach your edge for the second time that night. feeling your pussy clench against megumi's mouth and your feet shaking as you cum and squirt on his face.

megumi moans in delight he feels your pussy spasm against his mouth, drinking up your orgasm as you squirt on his face and into his mouth, the taste of your cum sweet and intoxicating. he laps it up eagerly, not wasting a drop of your sweet release as you shudder and gasp in pleasure.

he licks up every drop of your release, savoring your essence as you tremble above him. you pull back and sit on his chest, his lips and chin glistening with your juices, and gazes up at you with an intense, almost possessive look in his eyes.

“such a good girl, coming on my face like that. you taste so fucking good, baby,” he smiles as you go down to kiss his lips, returning the smile.

you lie beside him as he covers you and his naked body with the blanket. his arm wrapped around your body caressing his finger up and down to your back. with your feet tangled with his, your arm resting on his chest as you stroke your thumb across his cheeks. you smile at him with his other hand softly caressing your arm, tracing lazy patterns on your skin.

megumi's eyes soften as he watches you smile, that cute dimple on your cheek making him just want to kiss you even more. he continues to gently stroke your hair, enjoying the closeness between you. “i love seeing you smile, you know that?” your smile visibly wider under his words.

eyes gleam with possessive affection as he watches you, his hand never stilling its gentle caresses. he pulls you closer, his lips finding yours in a soft, tender kiss. “mine,” he murmurs against your mouth, as if to reassure himself as much as you.

he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. he nuzzles his nose against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “so beautiful, so perfect... I could watch you cum all day,” the words leave from his mouth making you giggle. “are you sure you never had sex before?”

“are you sure you never had sex before?” you jokingly ask him but genuinely curious. the way he fucked you before doesn't show someone inexperienced. he clearly knows how to fuck and know how to treat a girl in bed.

megumi chuckles, a low, husky sound that sends shivers down your spine. “of course I have never had sex before,” megumi replies, rolling his eyes at your question. “and just because I fuck you skillfully means nothing,” he pauses, a hint of a blush creeping onto his cheeks. “...I've done my... homework.”

“and watch a lot of porn,” he mumbled, looking away from you. megumi's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red as you squeeze his cheek playfully and laugh. “you are so cute,” you squeal. he looks up at you through his lashes, a mix of embarrassment and adoration in his eyes. “shut up,” he mutters, but there's no real annoyance in his voice.

after a moment, megumi's embarrassment fades and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. he looks up at you with a soft, yearning expression. “can I... can I do something for you now?” he asks hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, gumi?” you press a soft kiss on his forehead.

megumi shivers at the kiss on his forehead, his breath hitching. “I... I want to taste you,” he admits, his eyes darkening with desire. “please, let me suck your pussy. I want to make you feel good like you did for me,” shyly, his voice trembling slightly.

“but you already did?”

“i know, I know,” megumi says, looking away in embarrassment. “but... I want to do it again. please?” he peeks up at you through his lashes, his eyes pleading, full of hope. “can I taste you? just for a little while longer?” he bites his lip, a wave of desire and needs washing over him.

he hugged you tight, slightly pouting as he pressed his chin in your breasts, pressed the soft meat balloon on his neck. “I couldn't stop thinking about how good you taste. how wet and sweet you were. I need to... to have you in my mouth again.” your hand slips his hair behind his ear.

chuckling, “such a needy little thing, are you?”

megumi blushes at your words, but he doesn't look away from you. instead, he nods eagerly, his eyes shining with excitement and lust. “yes... I'm your needy little thing,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

“please... y/n..”

“okay,” it's not like you can say no to him.

with a soft whimper of delight, he goes down inside the blanket, between your thighs before throwing the blanket off.

“I love you, baby girl,” megumi whispers quietly, his breath warm against your pussy as he holds the two of your thigh close. he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh and continues to stroke it soothingly. megumi buries his face between your thighs, his warm breath tickling your sensitive flesh. he begins to lick and suckle at your pussy, his tongue darting in and out to lap up your juices.

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ozzgin · 4 months

Note

I'm the anon who asked if your requests are open and i got busy assignments + presentations that i almost forgot about the request but now i remembered and it's based on my dream i saw that night..

How about a vampire who lost his relic (presumably a ring) and reader happens find it and tries it on, now the vampire is all panicking because guess what? That was a betrothal relic and it has binded the vampire's soul with the one of reader. They can't pull it out/take it of.. oh well, now they are stuck and obviously the vampire hates the idea of being stuck with a pesky human but hey they are kinda stupid..? How tf they tripped on thin air? Or how they are still alive even after being food poisoned 5 times a month? Vampire is now babysitter for his human *sighs * what has he gotten himself in..

(Please add yandere elements later on, my brain stoopid but i want a hot Victorian era vampire being obsessed with me ^^ muah!)

(I'm sorry this is so lengthy TT)

Yandere! Vampire x Reader

Featuring a ridiculously lucky Reader who constantly manages to escape a Vampire's assassination attempts. Did someone order a supernatural edition of enemies to lovers?

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, romcom

[Monster masterlist] [Original works masterlist]

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?" your friends gasp in unison, eyes fixated on the fallen ceramic pot that scarcely missed you, now laying shattered at your feet. You laugh reassuringly and wave your hand in dismissal. "It's the fifth time it happens today. Maybe there's a storm coming?"

From within the shadows, menacing eyes glowing red follow your movements. "Damn it!" The mysterious man curses under his breath. He stares enviously at the bulky ring on your finger. The ring bearing his Family signet, where part of his very soul resides. It has stayed with him for centuries, and somehow, to his utmost shame, he lost it. By the time he rushed back to retrieve it, you were carelessly sliding it down your finger. He wanted to strangle the life out of you right then and there, but he felt it: the immediate surge of contractual power, dominating his will and holding him back from breaking your bones. "It's a little tacky, isn't it?" your friend remarked. You nodded in agreement and tried to remove it, but the metal band tightened around your skin, painfully constricting your digit. It was stuck. It was too late.

Now he has to rely on cheap trickeries like this one. Sure, he may not be able to directly plunge his fangs into your neck, but the bonding curse does not shield you from "accidents", you see. It would be a real shame if that flower pot was to land straight into your head, ending you instantly and thus breaking the connection with him. Except you simply refuse to die. A mystery, a paradox, one that enrages him to no end. It's almost as if the ring is bringing you fortune at the cost of his misery.

"Have you had any luck removing that ugly thing?" the person standing next to you mentions. The vampire lord grits his teeth at the blasphemous words. This is what's become of him: a deceitful buffoon, having to sit and listen to his inheritance being mocked relentlessly. He holds back the urge of shouting that thousands have bled to death in order to forge that magnificence. "Not at all", you respond idly. "I tried taking it to a jeweler, and she said she could try to cut it, but she ended up having a heart attack right in the middle of it. She didn't even look that old, maybe it runs in her family?"

Unbelievable. The thought of reclaiming his relic haunts every second of his day, to the point he's become your shadow. Stalking your every move, your every breath, observing his prey and waiting for an opportunity to strike. He can already picture that pathetic face of yours, twisting in pain, begging for-...huh. Well, look at that, you're reading one of his favorite books. Perhaps you do have a little taste, after all. It won't save you from your terrible fate, but he might skip the prolonged torture.

There's plenty of quotes out there about knowing your enemy in order to guarantee your victory, though one might wonder where the limit of such knowledge resides. Or what counts as useful to begin with. The vampire lord is presently wondering about this very aspect, as he mouths your coffee order from a distance. Less sugar, huh? You did mention losing your sweet tooth. He shakes his head indignantly. Absolutely not! The throb of his heart is fueled by raw hatred and nothing else. One of days he will savour your demise.

Your ridiculous luck might just end today. You've taken a shortcut on your way back home, and didn't expect a shady, burly man to block your exit. A perverted grin stains his face as he approaches you, twiddling with his pocket knife. "Alone at this hour?" You frown and try to find a way out, but the man suddenly begins to heave and convulse before your eyes, grasping at his chest as the skin shrivels and dries. He collapses at your feet, body wilted as if it's been emptied of its vitality. The Vampire Lord clicks his tongue.

To think he'd rush to rescue his sworn enemy, a pitiful mortal like you. He didn't even get the chance to consider the aftermath. You stare at the stranger, confused but observant. Pale skin, crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp canines...and the fact he just drained a living being into a bloodless corpse: everything hints to one possibility. "Are you by any chance a vampire?" you find yourself mumbling. "You must've graduated from Harvard with those deduction skills", he responds sarcastically.

Everything else unfolds in a haze. Wasn't he planning to kill you and retrieve his ring? When the hell did he offer to walk you home to avoid more creeps? Why is he twirling his hair sheepishly whenever you praise his demonic powers? Oh, but it gets worse: why did he suddenly feel the urge to kiss you before returning to his cursed lair? Why did he accept your invitation to spend the night at your place instead? One moment ago, he was doing his best to curse you off this Earth. Now he's tugging stray strands of hair away from your blushing, whining face, asking you if it hurts. Damned human.

"How did you know I like this? Have you been stalking me?" you joke, nudging your undead boyfriend and setting the gift aside. "More or less", he confesses with a yawn. He recalls all that time spent dutifully spying on your oblivious self. "You know, a human like you shouldn't be able to dodge death like that." He turns to you and scans your features. Then, abruptly embarrassed, he ruffles your hair to block you from noticing his blush. "I suppose my failure was the better outcome. It's not too bad, having you around."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere vampire #vampire x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend

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javiscigarette · 8 months

Text

Teacher's Pet, part II

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: Joel gives you a few more lessons and a few more feelings start to surface. (Picks up right where part one left off so I recommend reading that first!)

Warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, ungodly amount of pet names, unprotected sex, virginity loss (it's the real deal this time), he's back and more annoying than ever but still just as sweet, disgustingly fluffy at times, reader has hair he can run his fingers through but no other physical descriptions, no use of y/n

w/c: ......10.5k I am so sorry

a/n: It's here! I kept changing my mind with how I wanted this to go so hopefully I landed on something good. I'm absolutely still blown away by the amount of love and support you guys gave on part one :'))) you are all incredible. Hoping and praying this one lives up to everyone's expectations

Part One

my masterlist

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense is betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you. "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me." "The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to." "Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.” "That's some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Getting on your knees for Joel Miller wasn’t exactly on your agenda for today.

Not that you’re really complaining.

He doesn’t look bad from this angle, you have to admit. His chest looks broader from where you are on your knees in front of him, if that’s even possible. His hair is messy and tousled from where your fingers pulled and tugged with a pretty red flush spreading down his neck and chest, and the soft curve of his belly looking positively sinful.

“First lesson is how to take a man’s pants off,” Joel starts. “Think you can handle that? Or do you need a demonstration first?”

You scowl up at him, his words pulling you out of your transfixation on his body.

“Shut up,” you hiss. “I can take your pants off.”

He grins and raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Go on then. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but take a steadying breath, trying your best to calm your pounding pulse and trembling fingers as you reach up for his belt buckle. The metallic jingle has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you make quick work of the rest, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans until they’re hanging open in front of you.

You stop for a moment and glance up at him. He’s looking down at you, a soft encouraging smile playing on his lips.

“S’okay, baby. Keep goin’,” he murmurs, nodding his head once.

You give him a small nod and a tight swallow around the lump in your throat, dropping your gaze back to the task at hand. Gently, gingerly, you hook your fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down simultaneously.

A tiny, barely audible gasp escapes you when his cock springs free and bobs heavily in front of you.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, too stunned to stop the words from slipping out.

“Just Joel if fine, actually.”

You barely even register his jab and you definitely don’t have the bandwidth to come up with any kind of witty comeback right now, your mind too busy processing the sight before you. Sure, you’ve seen plenty of dicks before, the internet can be a magical place. But this, in person, up close and so real, is an entirely new experience.

He's big, thick, heavy, and long with a slight upward curve. The tip is flushed a deep pink, shiny with smeared precome with more beading at the slit. A few thin veins run from his base to his tip up the length in a twisting pattern, the dark hair at his base neatly trimmed. And he’s hard, so much so that it looks nearly painful and your stomach flutters know that you're the one who did that to him.

"You can touch it, y'know." Joel says softly after a few moments of silence. "It ain't gonna bite."

"Oh my god" you groan, bringing up a hand to scrub down your face as he pulls you out of your awe.

"Again, just Joel is fine."

He laughs proudly at his own joke and you drop your hands in your lap and stare up at him in disbelief.

"Oh c'mon! You walked right into that one, no need to get all-"

He cuts himself off with a hiss, the air escaping between his teeth and his head falling back as your hand wraps around him, squeezing just a little too tight to be pleasant. He staggers half a step backward, hips jerking away from your grip.

"You were saying?'' you ask sweetly, grinning up at him.

"Fuckin' christ, woman. You're tryin' to get me off not break it off"

You loosen your grip a little but keep your hand still and look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for further instruction. It's not that you don't know what to do, you just don't know how to do it well. How to do it for him.

You want to do well for him.

The realization should alarm you, scare you even. But you find it only spurs you on, only makes the want burning inside of you even more potent and pressing. You want to make him moan, gasp, make his body writhe beneath your touch. You want him to be breathless, shivering, and panting with pleasure. You want to make him come undone, just like you did for him.

"Okay" he starts, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "Lesson two is learning what he likes. Everyone's a lil different, but the basics are the same."

The nerves in your gut twist almost painfully, the anxiety of it all getting you half a second away from tapping out.

But your decision is set in stone when he drops his hand to yours where it’s wrapped around him, giving a light squeeze before he starts to gently guide your movements.

"Start slow,” he starts, a light strain tainting the edges of his voice. “Nice and gentle. Wanna work up to it."

You nod and watch, focused intently as if you were actually a student in class as the head of his cock disappears and reappears in your fist. His hand covers yours nearly entirely as he drags it up and down while you try and memorize where he squeezes a little tighter, when he swipes his thumb over the head.

“Can give a little twist at the top,” he murmurs, voice low as he demonstrates what he means. “There you go, baby. Just like that,” he sighs when you do the same.

Once satisfied, he removes his hand, letting you take control. You continue to pump him, trying to replicate the movements he just showed you. His cock is a warm, heavy weight in your hand, twitching and pulsing every now and then when you twist your wrist just right or swipe your thumb over his head like he showed you, collecting and spreading his precome to ease your strokes.

Your confidence builds with each stroke and soon enough you start to experiment with your pace, switching between faster and slower. He gently rocks his hips in time with your hand, unable to resist thrusting forward just slightly.

The fire inside you burns even hotter at the shaky breath that he lets out above you, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire before settling low in your belly, your core aching and pulsing with it.

"This good?" you ask concerned, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lets out a breathless chuckle and looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"Yeah, honey. Real good," he rasps, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You match his smile, biting your lip and basking in his praise, a warm, gooey feeling spreading outwards from your heart to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's like he has a direct link to the inner workings of your brain and body with how effortlessly he can make you melt, with just a soft, easy smile and a few well chosen words.

"Should I...do you want my mouth?" you ask, glancing between his flushed, leaking cock and his hooded eyes.

"God yes, baby. J-just start slow. Lick the tip, get a feel for it. Don't try to take too much right away," he instructs, his voice constricting more and more with each word.

"So I shouldn't try to fit all of your giant cock in my mouth on my first go?" you quip, raising a brow.

"Please don't" he chuckles. "Don't want ya pukin’ all over the place. Might kill the mood," he adds with a grin.

You shake your head and let out a light laugh, the sound trailing off into a content hum when he brings his hand to the top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, dull nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

"You're ridiculous," you sigh, leaning into the touch.

"You love it."

You do, so, so much.

"Now c'mon. You've got work to do," he teases, his hand gently tugging at your hair.

You comply easily enough, leaning forward and tenderly swiping your tongue across the slit, licking up the precome that's gathered there. He hisses, a rush of hair pushing past his clenched teeth as his cock twitches in your hand, a fresh bead of precome forming.

With your confidence renewed by his reaction, you do it again, pressing your tongue flat against the slit and swirling it slowly around his swollen tip all while your hand still works him at a steady pace.

Emboldened, you take it a step further and close your lips around him, sealing them around the head to give him a slow, experimental suck. The groan he rewards you with has sparks shooting down the length of your spine.

"That's it. Good girl. Just like that," he pants, fingers tugging and tightening in your hair.

His praise washes over you in another wave of warmth, a feeling akin to a full-body shiver that has goosebumps breaking out over your skin. It strokes your ego, pride and confidence filling you as his soft moans and grunts fuel the fire burning in your belly.

Encouraged by the way he’s already falling apart, you take him a little deeper. It’s only a few inches but your lips are already stretched wide, a slight ache already settling in your jaw from how wide it's being forced open.

You keep your tongue flat against the underside of his cock while you start to bob your head, trying to match the pace of your hand. But the motions are new and unfamiliar, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated and when he hits the roof of your mouth, your gag reflex kicks in forcing you to pull off quickly, coughing and sputtering.

"Easy. Easy," Joel soothes, his fingers scratching at your scalp again. "Try to breathe through your nose. And don't don't force it, yeah? Feels good, just the way you were doin' it."

"Sorry," you apologize sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"

But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore.

Thankfully, his words dissolve into a groan when you take him back in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his sensitive head, tongue flat where it slowly glides down the underside of his cock as you take him deeper.

The ache in your core is quickly growing more and more incessant. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers and tongue on you, your inner thighs wet and sticky with the memory. And the sinful sounds he’s making, whispered curses between breathy moans and grunts, are not exactly helping your case.

You manage to take a little more, his thick cock stretching your mouth wider, forcing your jaw open even further. You gag slightly around him again but you’re determined to push through it this time. YOu squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in harshly through your nose as saliva dribbles past the tight seal of your mouth and drips onto your hand, your fist diligently pumping what you can't take.

He responds with a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking forward, chasing after the sensation of your throat convulsing around him.

You're still only a little over halfway down and it's a quick realization that you'll never be able to get it all down your throat. Maybe you can try and practice, but it’s practically a pipe dream to even think about getting his whole cock into your throat without choking to death on it.

But that's a problem for another day.

For the next time.

For now, you hollow out your cheeks and suck as you pull back, tongue swirling along the underside until his cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen, spit-slicked lips to his glistening tip.

You use your hand to spread the wetness, mixing it with the precome that's leaking steadily from the flushed head. The smooth glide allows you to speed up your pace as you look up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

He's staring down at you with hazy, lust blown eyes, his jaw hanging open, panting heavily.

"How am I doing, Professor?" you tease with an innocent smile. A lazy grin slowly spreads on his face in return.

"You’re a fuckin’ natural, baby," he mumbles, his hand moving from where it's tangled in your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your flushed cheek, "My good girl."

And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to.

Because he just called you his girl.

His.

To say you’re fucked would be the understatement of the century.

You hum, pressing your cheek into his palm, wanting, needing, craving more. More of his touch, his taste, his warmth, his cock, his praise. So you take him back in your mouth with a renewed determination, spurred on by his words, wanting to prove to him that he's right, that you are his good girl. Determined to show him that you can make him feel good, that you can please him, that he'll want more of you, need more of you.

And judging by the way his grip on your hair is almost painful, his thighs trembling as he holds himself still, fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat, you'd say you're doing a damn good job

"Makin’ me feel so good, baby. So fuckin' good," he pants when you take him a little deeper.

You whine quietly around him as you press your sticky thighs together. White hot heat pooling low in your belly, your neglected cunt throbbing and aching, slick, wet, and messy.

You squirm in your spot, rubbing your thighs together and grinding down on nothing in desperate search for the slightest bit of friction. You pray that the movement is subtle enough for Joel not to notice.

As if that’s possible.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel starts, his tone annoyingly saccharine and condescending as he smirks down at you. “Did we forget somethin’ important?”

Another small whimper is all you can muster, too focused and preoccupied with the way his thick length is filling your mouth, the weight and taste of him on your tongue dizzying and addicting.

“Well look at that,” he coos, his hand leaving your hair and sliding down your cheek to cradle your jaw. He swipes swiping over your bottom lip that’s stretched around his length, smearing the spit that’s gathered there.

“Think I finally found a way to shut ya up. We should’a done this a long time ago. Woulda saved me a lot of headaches,” he chuckles, the sound dissolving into a sharp hiss when you dig your nails into the tender skin of the back of his thigh, hard enough to leave a mark.

You pull off his cock with a wet pop, jaw aching as you glare up at him.

"I'd shut up if I were you" you warn, the threat of your words completely lost in the breathless, desperate way they leave your mouth. "Just one good chomp is all it would take" you add, clicking your teeth together for emphasis.

But Joel's face just splits into a grin, a full blown, infuriating smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Biting huh? Now that’s a little kinky. Didn't know you had it in you, sweetheart."

"Shut up," you snap, but it still lacks any real heat, not with the way your lips are twitching at the corners, fighting a smile, your eyes undoubtedly sparkling, your heart definitely leaping out of your chest at the way his eyes are boring into yours.

"Careful, sweetheart. Might have to knock you down a whole letter grade for that type of talk. Gotta respect your professor ‘n all, y’know."

"You're insufferable," you grumble.

"But yet, here you are, still on your knees."

"And I'm gonna get up and leave if you don't stop talking."

"Leave before or after you chomp my dick off? Cause I'd really like a heads up for that, if ya could."

"Jesus fucking christ, Joel!" You huff, rolling your eyes so hard it actually hurts. "Do you ever just shut the fuck up? I'm literally on my knees right now with your dick in my mouth and you're still finding ways to piss me off!"

“What can I say? It’s a special talent of mine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, the smug smile on his face making you want to genuinely bite his dick off now.

You drop the wet hand you had wrapped around him and start to move to your feet.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go. Maybe I'll call my coworker. He's not nearly as irritating as you," you huff, pushing yourself up onto shaky legs, your knees stiff and sore.

But you can't even take one step before he's grabbing your waist, his large, warm palm resting firmly on the swell of your hip. His fingers flex, his grip tightening, not enough to hurt, but it's enough to halt you in your tracks. You're not particularly fond of the way your heart skips a beat in your chest, the way you can feel goosebumps breaking out all over your body from just his touch.

He pulls you in closer until your chest is pressed against his, hard, wet cock pressed against your bare thigh.

"You really think you’re gonna leave with your pussy drippin' all over the place like that?” he says, his voice seamlessly switching from teasing to low and rough as his dark, hungry eyes bore into yours. “You're about to ruin my floors with the way you're leakin' right now, baby. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment from how easily he was able to see your desperation, and with anger at how right he is.

"Shut the fuck up, Joel," you mumble, giving him a weak push at his chest. "I'm not leaking I-"

The rest of your sentence stays lodged in your throat when his free hand slips between your thighs. Two deft fingers drag through the slick mess, collecting your arousal and spreading it around, a soft, wet, obscene sound filling the space between you.

You don't even think to stop the high pitched, breathy whine from escaping your lips when he slides a thick finger inside you with no warning, your pathetic sound dissolving into a moan when he immediately follows it up with a second one, his palm pressed flat against your clit.

"Not leaking, hmm? Sure don't seem like it, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Feel that? How easy it was for me to get two fingers in ya?"

"Fuck," you whine as you dig your nails into the bare skin of his shoulder, hanging on to him and desperately searching for any semblance of stability as you try not to sway on shaky legs.

He crooks his fingers in you, fingertips digging into the spongy spot on your front wall that has your knees buckling, tiny stars dotting your vision momentarily as a rush of arousal gushes out of you, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips. Joel chuckles, low and dark and the sound shoots straight to your neglected clit, a bolt of lightning arcing down your spine.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin below your ear, the faint scrape of his beard against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine.

The feeling of him removing his fingers is a cruel, sudden jolt, the emptiness and lack of pressure and friction has you keening, a needy, impatient noise bubbling up from your throat.

He's moving before you can complain though, stepping around you to sit on the edge of the bed and then promptly pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise as he forces you to straddle his thigh, pulling you down until your aching cunt is seated firmly against his bare skin. The position has his cock pressing against your hip, a drop of precome smearing against your skin.

"Fuckin' soaked for me, honey,” he drawls, his fingertips dimpling the soft skin of your hips. “And to think you were about to leave without gettin' what you came here for.”

You can't even speak, too enraptured with the feeling of his strong muscles flexing subtly under your hypersensitive clit. So you ignore his teasing and just grind down instead, past the point of desperation.

But he would never let you win that easily, would he?

He laughs and tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement and holding you in place.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, baby. Let's talk about the terms first."

You give him the best glare you can muster while suppressing a needy whimper.

"Terms?"

"Yeah. Terms. Of all this. Like if this is a one time thing, or if we're gonna be havin' regular...lessons," he replies, his hands slowly sliding up your waist and coming to rest on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts.

"If you're gonna go out with this guy," he continues, his thumbs brushing over both of your nipples. "Or if I'm the only one who's gonna get to see this," he says, leaning forward, his warm breath fanning over your skin. You bite your lip, holding in the soft, needy moan threatening to spill out when his lips press to the hollow of your throat.

"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest, his hands squeezing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking out and licking at your nipple.

"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."

You take a deep steadying breath, trying to clear the thick haze that's clouding your mind and focus on his words, his questions about the fucking terms.

And you do think about it, about your coworker who's been nothing but so sweet to you, who doesn't get on your nerves in under a millisecond. The coworker, Micheal, you think, his name finally returning to you, who doesn't tease you and play games and leave you a panting, needy, dripping mess.

And while he is really such a perfect gentleman, he isn’t the one that’s been there for you, listening to you complain about all the shitty things that have happened to you in the last year. He isn’t the man that lets you use him as a punching bag whenever you’re frustrated, has never been the calm, reasonable voice that challenges the anxiety that overwhelms you and threatens to pull you under.

Michael has never held you when you've cried, never helped you cook dinner after a hard day at work, never fixed the flickering light in your bathroom. He certainly has never dropped a key to his front door in your palm accompanied by a lopsided smile and the words just in case ya need anything.

Michael isn’t the one who’s been the one to pick up your pieces and put you back together, so gently and tenderly, making you even better than you were before.

It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want.

It’s Joel.

All of it.

You want Joel.

All of him.

You've wanted him since the day you showed up on his porch with a six pack. You've wanted him all those times you watched from a distance as he fixed something in your house, so capable and competent, casually waving away your slew of thank yous. You wanted him every single time he invited you over for a movie night, sitting close enough to you on his couch that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You wanted him every time he made your blood boil and your eyes roll so hard you swore you could see the back of your brain, and every time you genuinely thought you were going to smack him.

And now, you have him.

Right here, naked and hard and underneath you, your pussy leaking on his thigh.

The answer is so painfully obvious, the words falling from your lips before you even have a chance to process them.

"M'not gonna see him," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Want this. Want you."

Joel hums, indicating that he heard you. But again, he would never let you win that easily.

"Speak up, baby," Joel says, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes dark and intense, a predatory, feral glint in them. "Can't hear you."

And it's infuriating and annoying, absolutely maddening. And it's the last straw.

You're not sure if it's the frustration, or the pent up desire, or the heat burning inside you, or the fact that Joel's still hard, and still leaking precum against your hip, as your cunt slides against his thigh, but you break.

You absolutely shatter.

"I want you!" you practically shout, hands balling into fists where they're resting on his shoulders.

"You, okay? You! You and your stupid, fucking, annoying ass, and your dumbass pickup truck, and your stupid, charming grin, and the way you always call me 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart'. It drives me fucking insane! And the way you're always fixing shit, and being so fucking helpful and sweet and you always, always make me laugh, and smile, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the past year that I didn’t think about you and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, not even for a single fucking second.”

The words spill from your lips in a breathless tirade, and it feels good, freeing. It's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, like a great burden has been taken off of you.

But the feeling doesn't last long.

Silence stretches between you and it's suffocating, oppressive, and you feel like the walls are closing in on you, panic rising in your chest.

Your cheeks burn, nauseating embarrassment and humiliation coursing through you as you realize the full weight of what you just word-vomited all over him. Your chest heaves, and you hang your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

But then, a bright laugh sounds through the otherwise quiet room. And your eyes snap to Joel's face, only to find him smiling.

He's fucking laughing.

"Joel!" you scold, a mixture of mortification and confusion washing over you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he placates, but the laughter in his voice doesn't help to ease your nerves. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just...I just can't believe how dense you are."

The daggers you shoot at him are truly deadly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I just go around callin' everyone 'baby' and 'sweetheart'?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I..." you stammer, trailing off as his words sink in.

"I mean, my southern charm is one thing,” he says, obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows. “But you’re seriously thick if you think I'm like this with anyone else.”

You stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s saying.

“Do you think I let all the neighbors just use me for free handy work, think I cook dinner with all of them, think I keep a stash of everyone’s favorite snacks in my pantry, give everyone a fuckin’ key to my front door? And you think I just go around agreeing to sex lessons to anyone who asks?” He rambles, squeezing your hip.

Your brain is reeling as you try to wrap your head around everything.

"Well...no” you stammer, your brows pinching together. “But…"

"How many other girls you seen me bringin' home? Huh? How many other girls you see me with?"

"None" you admit sheepishly.

"Mhm. Because I don't. Not since you moved in next door."

You frown, confusion clouding your features. You open your mouth to speak but Joel cuts you off.

"I like you, baby," he admits with a sigh. "A lot. Maybe too much. But I wasn't about to lose you as a friend just because I'm crazy about you. And if being your friend is the only way I can be close to you, then I'd take it and die a happy man."

You can only stare at him, the words he just spoke bouncing around in your brain, and a warmth blooms in your chest, your heart fluttering wildly in your ribcage.

"Are you kidding me?!" You exclaim suddenly, hitting his shoulder.

"Hey! Ow!" he barks, his eyes widening as he grabs his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?!"

"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"

"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."

You scoff, glaring at him, not missing the way his lips twitch at the corners, the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"So, the reason why I haven't been able to catch a break the entire time we've known each other, has been because you've been trying to get in my pants? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, that part is just natural. You're just too easy to get riled up. And that’s not my fault."

You open your mouth to argue with him but his sliding over your hips to palm at your ass and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.

"But no, I can't deny that I like it," he rasps, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "The way you get all fired up and angry, your face all flushed, your chest heaving. Mmm, it's nice. You look real pretty when you're all worked up and pissed off," he whispers, his lips curled in a smile when he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear before pulling back to look at you.

"Why didn't you tell me,” you say, voice softer now, the rough edges of your tone smoothed out by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Didn't want to make it weird. Didn't want you to think I was some creepy old man and ruin our friendship" he explains with a small shrug. "But then you came over here tonight askin’ for a sex lesson, which was not easy by the way, acting like I wasn't already about to burst outta my pants as soon as you asked. Thought for sure you were onto me. But then you started going on about that douche canoe Michael-"

"Joel."

"And then I got jealous and pissed, and figured it was time to cut my losses and just enjoy it while I can, but-"

"Joel."

"Then we were kissing and you were touchin’ me and you're so fucking sexy and-"

"Joel!"

"What?"

"Just kiss me, you idiot" you breathe, and before the words are even fully out of your mouth, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.

It’s bruising, searing, all consuming.

His fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he pulls you forward, the seam of your pussy dragging deliciously against the strong muscles under warm skin.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, the base of your spine tingling when he groans softly into your mouth, and you grind your hips against his, the wet heat of your cunt grinding into his thigh, pulling another soft, low sound from his throat.

"Fuck" he groans, pulling away just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his chest heaving. "Baby, are you still okay with this?" he breathes, voice ragged and gravelly.

You look at him as if he's grown a second head.

"Are you serious?"

""I...well, I was serious when I said I'd be fine with being your friend, and I don't want you to think I'm tryna pressure you into anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes, the soft, endearing side of Joel coming out at the worst possible time.

"I literally just admitted that I've had a crush on you for months, and now I'm sitting on your lap, soaked, and grinding on your thigh and you're worried I don't want this? I think you might be the dense one here."

He grins, wicked and wide, a flash of sharp teeth, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"Guess so," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You don't respond, and instead choose to silence him by pulling him into a kiss, licking at the seam of his lips and sucking his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly into your mouth, and you swallow the noise, rolling your hips again, chasing the sweet friction that's sending a delicious heat through your veins.

"God, baby," he breathes when he pulls back for air, hands on your ass gripping and guiding you against his leg, encouraging your movements. "Makin' such a mess, ain't ya?"

You bite your lip, nodding as a wave of arousal surges through you.

"Yeah, you are. Soakin' my leg, sweet girl," he says, his eyes flicking down between you, watching as your pussy drags along his thigh, coating him in a shiny, slippery sheen.

"Fuck, Joel, please" you whine, your hips jerking and rolling against him.

And that's all the encouragement he needs.

In the blink of an eye, you're on your back, Joel hovering above you, a wild look in his eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and husky, and he trails his fingers over your hip and up your ribs, his touch light, teasing, barely ghosting across your skin and it's almost ticklish, making you shiver. "M'gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good."

Your heart thunders in your chest, and your cunt throbs, your arousal leaking out of you. It feels like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin, the desperation growing with every passing second.

He trails his fingers down your sternum, and over the flat expanse of your stomach, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in his wake, the muscles under your skin rippling and twitching at the soft, fleeting touches.

And when he reaches the crease of your thigh, you let out a shaky, trembling breath, and he chuckles softly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.

"Eager, are we?" he teases, dragging his fingers over the slick flesh between your legs, gathering the wetness pooled there before slowly sliding a single thick digit inside you. "We're gonna get there, baby. But gotta make sure you're ready first. Don't wanna hurt you.”

You whimper, your walls fluttering and clenching around his finger, and your hips roll forward, seeking friction, wanting, needing more.

Joel curses under his breath and groans softly when your wet, warm walls constrict around his finger. His cock leaks and twitches where it’s pressed against your thigh, and you whimper, both of you caught up in an endless cycle of keying each other up.

"Please, Joel" you beg, and the words come out soft, pleading, and desperate. You should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he's reduced you to a begging, quivering mess, but the way his eyes go dark, and his pupils blow wide, makes the embarrassment worth it.

"Please, what, baby?” He prods with a devilish smirk. “Use your words"

"You're such an asshole" you snap, but the venom in your voice is diluted with pleasure as he slips another finger inside you.

"You keep saying that. What d’ya want me to do about it, sweetheart? You want me to stop?" he taunts.

"No!" you cry out, reaching down and grabbing his wrist with an iron grip when he starts to pull out.

"Then tell me what you want, honey."

"Fuck you,” you mumble weakly.

"Mhm. Okay, honey" he drawls, his thumb moving to circle around your clit as his fingers curl inside you, still pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. . "I'll just wait then. Take my time. Tease your pretty little pussy until you can't stand it. I'm in no hurry, baby. Gonna take all night, if that's what it takes. I've waited this long."

"Joel, please" you whine again, the ache between your thighs turning to an unbearable burn.

"Tell me what you want,” he repeats casually.

"You," you try with a needy whimper.

"Me? You got me, sweetheart. What else?"

“Oh my fucking god can you please just fuck me? Or do I have to spell it out for you, old man?"

"There she is," Joel says with a laugh, his grin splitting his face "There's my girl"

And then his fingers are gone and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest much more,, they're sliding back in, this time joined by a third.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him, nails digging into the soft flesh of his muscles.

"Oh fuck" you pant, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he starts pumping his fingers again.

"Gotta get ya ready, baby" he breathes, and his lips are ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear, his breath warm. "Such a tight little pussy, but we'll get you nice and open, don’t worry. Then I'm gonna sink in ya, fill you up real nice. Take real good care of you, baby. Fuck you nice and deep, make you forget your name. Would you like that? Hmm?"

A strangled moan is all you can manage in response. His words, filthier and more deranged than any you've ever heard him speak before, sending your brain into overdrive.

You can’t help but roll your hips, and bucking, and gyrating, meeting his thrusts as his fingers pump in and out of you, the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds filling the otherwise quiet room, and the coil in your gut is threatening to snap.

"Joel, Joel, fuck, oh fuck" you chant, your hazy and thick with pure arousal. It drips down your spine and flows through your veins, liquid heat burning, searing, and scorching you from the inside out.

You manage to open your eyes long enough to look down and see the tendons flexing in his wrist, the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging as he works you, his face brows pinched in concentration as he focuses on your reactions.

"Oh shit, honey," Joel curses breathlessly, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels your slick pooling in his palm. “So messy, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna be a good girl and lemme feel your sweet little cunt clench and drip even more around my fingers?"

You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he thrusts his fingers into you, the heel of his palm rubbing deliciously against your clit. Your fingers scrabble for purchase, desperately seeking something, anything, to ground yourself. You settle for the firm muscle of his arms, your nails biting into his skin and leaving bright red marks that'll undoubtedly leave little half-moon bruises later

"Fuck, yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel. Give it to me."

You come with a cry, the dam breaking, the tension in your gut exploding outward, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, washing through every inch of your body. Your legs tremble and shake, and Joel works you through it, his fingertips nudging that spongy spot inside you, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit, milking you through the aftershocks, and when you start to come down, you're panting and breathless, your chest heaving.

You look up at Joel, and his eyes are blown wide, the deep, rich brown of his irises nothing more than a thin, dark ring around his dilated pupils. There are no words, at least none that you can manage to articulate at the moment, so instead you let out a breathless laugh, and a contented hum, a smile spreading across your lips.

Joel grins, laughing, and he leans down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.

"Good girl" he breathes against your mouth, his words a low, rough rumble that has you keening. "That feel good, baby?"

"Fuck, yeah" you sigh, melting into the matress.

"Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead then pulling back to look you in the eyes again. “ Think you're ready for me now?"

“Mhm,” you murmur with a lazy nod. “Want you, Joel.”

Joel laughs, the sound sweeter than it’s ever sounded before.. "You've got me, sweetheart. You've had me. Always will."

"That's awfully fucking sappy," you tease breathlessly, threading your fingers into his soft dark hair.

"The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to."

"Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, raising a brow at him.

"That’s some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Joel barks out a laugh, the sound coming out more like a snarl, his eyes flashing with something feral, predatory, and dangerous at your challenge.

And then he’s abruptly pulling his fingers from you then bringing them up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick coating his fingers. The sight nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.

"So fuckin' sweet" he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed momentarily, and a low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest. It's downright obscene, the way his lips wrap around his fingers, how he licks and sucks, cleaning your arousal off of them.

"Joel," you breathe, your voice nothing more than a shaky exhale.

His eyes snap open, and he gives you a lopsided smirk.

"Sorry, baby,” he starts, pulling his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on the blanket underneath you. “Can’t help myself. Just had to taste ya again. Gonna have a hard time not doing that every time,” he finishes with a sly smile.

Every time.

The words are like a shock of electricity shooting through your veins, setting your blood ablaze. Every time. As in multiple times.

How the fuck is this real?

He stupid smirk is still glued to his face as he leans over to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand. Your brows furrow when he pulls out a condom and goes to open it.

"I...uh..." you start, but the words die in your throat.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, his smug expression immediately morphing into one of concern.

"I...well...it's just, I'm- I'm on the pill… We can use a condom, but...it's not necessary…just wanted to put that out there. In case, you know…you didn't wanna use one. Since it's not...like, not entirely necessary,” you say quietly, casting your eyes down to where your fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket.

"Ahh, I see,” Joel responds, all too pleased. “You just want me to raw dog it, huh?”

"Wha-no! Oh my god, Joel, you are so fucking embarrassing," you groan, covering your face with your hands.

"S'okay, honey, don’t be embarrassed. It is all part of the full Joel Miller Experience anyway,” he reassures you with a sickeningly sweet tone..

"Oh my fucking god, I told you not to say that ever again,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. And you can feel yourself smiling too, despite how irked you are.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he relents, still laughing a little. "If you really don't want me to use one, I guess I can make an exception, just for you"

And it's as if he knows that you're about to lash out at him again, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything, all the fight in you draining away as soon as his mouth is on yours.

"You tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Or if I do anything you're uncomfortable with, or if you just need a break. You let me know, okay?"

You nod.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Joel. Please just get on with it."

"Impatient" he breathes, but kisses you again nonetheless, soft, slow, and tender. And when he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours like he's looking for any signs of hesitancy. But all he sees is the same raw desire reflected back in your wide, eager eyes.

You see the exact moment that the last vestiges of his self-restraint disappear, his gaze growing darker and hungrier as he pushes himself up to sit back on his knees, one hand around the base of his cock, the other on the inside of your thigh as he tenderly spreads you open and settles himself between your legs.

He teases you of course, dragging his length through your folds, letting the swollen, leaking tip catch on your clit before sliding back down to nudge at your entrance. You whimper, and try to grind against him, but his hand is firm, holding your hip still, not allowing you any friction.

He hushes you softly, his thumb gently stroking the soft, delicate skin where your hip meets your thigh. "Just let me do what I need to do, baby. Let me take care of you.”

"You're evil," you whine, squirming underneath him.

"Yeah, well, that's a matter of opinion" he grunts, your breath hitching when he lines himself up and finally, finally pushes the blunt tip of his cock inside you.

Your lips part on a gasp, the feeling of his thick head stretching you open, the slight burn of the intrusion, a mixture of aching and pure pleasure. And you can feel his eyes practically burning holes in your skin, drinking in every little reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every twitch of your brow.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice tight and strained. He looks just as wrecked as you feel, his jaw tight, a sheen of sweat already on his brow, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort of restraining himself.

"More," is all you manage to rasp out, pushing your hips up, trying to get him to sink deeper.

Joel grunts, and then obliges, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tries to feed you only a little more of his considerable length. You can see him chewing on his lip, his nostrils flaring, a slight tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Jesus fuck, you're tight" he grits out, his chest heaving as he tries to regain some of his composure. "I-I didn't…fuck, I didn't think- shit. God fuckin' damn, baby"

You smile a little, the corners of your lips curling upwards. It's the first time you've ever seen him truly at a loss for words, and it's a very welcome change.

You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed, a sweet sigh escaping his lips at the feeling.

"I can take more," you say softly.

Joel shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not yet."

But you don't listen. Not that you ever really listen to him.

Your impatience gets the best of you and you push yourself further down the bed, forcing another inch of his cock inside you, your walls fluttering wildly around him as you let out a low moan.

"Ah fuck, honey," he groans, his eyes flying open.

"C'mon, Joel. More. Please," you beg, grinding down on his cock, taking just a little bit more with each roll of your hips until his fingers dig into your hips so hard, you're sure they'll leave bruises.

"Baby stop fuckin' movin'" he hisses, his grip tightening even further. "Please."

You can hear the strain in his voice, and you can feel him trembling above you, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing and tensing.

"Why not?" you pout.

"Cause m'tryin' not to fuckin' come right now, alright?" he grunts, his teeth gritted. "So please, just stop. For a minute."

"You can't possibly be serious," you breathe, a smile creeping on your face again. "You're not even all the way in yet."

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "Not my fault you're fuckin' tight as shit. It's like your cunt is tryin' to strangle me."

You giggle a little, the sound coming out breathy and light. You don't miss the way Joel's cock twitches at the sound.

"You're being so dramatic," you sigh, rolling your hips again.

"Fuck, honey, please," he begs, his eyes pleading, and the sight is almost enough to make you stop teasing him.

Almost.

You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your face as you bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across the stubble on his chin. He lets his eyes fall closed again, leaning into your touch.

"This isn't very 'best lay your life' behavior."

"I will fuckin' strangle you," he mutters, his eyes still closed, a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that part of the Joel Miller Experience too? Because I don't remember seeing it in the brochure. Was it next to the premature ejaculation section? Or maybe the-"

The air is knocked right out of your lungs, cut off mid-sentence when Joel pushes forward. He keeps it slow but unrelenting, sinking into you in one smooth, fluid motion. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as your fists twist in the blanket underneath you.

It's more than overwhelming, it's absolutely mind melting the way he buries himself completely, stretching your walls, forcing them to make room for him, to mold perfectly around his length. You gasp for air between harsh pants and weak cries, the sensation of him filling you up, so much bigger than you expected, so much thicker than his fingers. You squirm underneath him, trying to get used to the feeling of his tip pressed against your cervix, the pressure building deliciously as the ache radiates from your core through your belly, to the tips of your toes.

"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained and gruff, one hand still gripping your hip as he presses the other into the mattress by your head, holding himself up. "Is that enough for you?"

You struggle to find words, but you're not even sure if there are any in the English language that can convey just how good it feels.

"Uh-huh," you nod, blinking rapidly as the edges of your vision start to blur. "Fuck, Joel. You're so fucking big, oh my god."

You hear him chuckle, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Not too much though, is it? Cause you were begging for more just a second ago. Thought you could take it, sweetheart," he croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

"No, no, 'sgood, " you whimper, the words slurring together as he starts to grind into you. "F-fuck. Joel. Shit, that feels so good. Holy fuck.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your cheek and your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, his breath hot against you. He lets you get used to the feeling, cursing under his breath and trying to think of anything else but the tight, wet heat convulsing around his cock.

"Doesn't hurt?" he asks with a sudden tenderness, his voice vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No," you sigh, finally starting to relax around him.

"Good. You gonna let me know if it does, right baby? Or if you need me to stop?"

You nod weakly. "Mhm."

He kisses you then, a soft, languid, and lazy drag of his lips against yours. He slides his tongue along your lower lip, and you let him in without any hesitation, parting your lips with a breathy sigh. He takes the opportunity to swallow down every little sound that spills from your mouth, kissing you with a kind of reverence, a kind of tenderness, a kind of patience and passion that makes your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest.

He pulls away leaving you even more breathless and dizzy, your lips tingling and swollen. And you're not sure if it's because of the kiss or the way he's stretching you so fucking wide, but your fucking drunk on it.

He kisses you once more, on the corner of your mouth, his lips curling up into a smile when you nuzzle against his cheek, seeking out more.

"You still with me, honey?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," you answer, your voice sounding far away, distant and dreamy. Joel chuckles, the sound making you smile.

"You wanna keep going, sweetheart? Or d'ya need a minute?"

"I'm good, I'm good," you assure him, trying to lift your hips a little. "You can...keep going."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

You nod and then close your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath as Joel pulls out, just a little, his cock dragging along your walls. It's another wave of overwhelming sensation, your entire body shaking. But it's nothing compared to the feeling when he pushes back in. The same full, aching, almost painful stretch, except it's somehow even better this time, your walls gripping him tighter, pulling him in, trying to keep him there.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you cry, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "Oh, Joel, fuck."

He's hovering over you, his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach flexing and contracting as he moves above you.

"Good?" he asks, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes hooded.

You answer with a nod, followed by a long, low moan when he starts to slowly pull out again, pushing back in a bit faster this time. He builds a rhythm, the slick drag of his cock filling you up again and again, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster.

"You're taking it so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with a particularly hard thrust, the force of which has you keening and crying out his name. Your walls clench around him, a gush of slick pouring out around his cock as you subconsciously try to pull him in even further.

"God you're so fucking tight, baby. Fuckin' soaked too, dripping all over me. Fuck. So fucking wet and perfect," he groans, his voice sounding strained, almost like he's in pain. "Such a good fucking girl."

You can't do anything more than just lay there and let him fuck into you, the sounds that spill from your lips a mix of moans, whimpers and desperate little cries. Your brain feels like mush, all thought processes reduced to a single loop of his name, your lips chanting it over and over.

And Joel's not much better, the only coherent words out of his mouth a string of praises, calling you his good girl, telling you how well you're taking him, how fucking tight you are, how heavenly you feel. His hands are everywhere too, caressing, stroking, kneading, squeezing, leaving no inch of your skin untouched.

He finds a steady rhythm and you know it's not nearly as hard as he could go, not by a long shot, but every thrust and drag of his cock hits you so deep and so hard, it's a miracle that you don't shatter beneath him. And the sounds, god the sounds are so obscene, the slapping of skin against skin, the wet, squelching noises of him pounding into your dripping cunt. It's a chorus of pure debauchery, music to both of your ears, only adding to the building pleasure.

And just when you start to think that it can't possibly get any better, he hits a spot deep inside you that has your body bowing, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him and he curses, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.

"There it is," he grunts, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, the absolute bastard. "Right there, huh? That the spot?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back into you, hitting the same spot dead-on. And you keen and wail, your body thrashing wildly as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, clawing at his back, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

"Yeah, I got ya," he husks, leaning down to suck and bite at the skin just below your jaw. He keeps pounding into that spot, making sure to hit it every damn time, and your vision starts to blur again, black dots dancing at the edge of your eyes.

You don't even realize you're about to come until it's crashing into you, a sudden and violent wave that threatens to tear you apart. And Joel can tell, from the way you start to shake, the way your walls are clamping down around him, the way your legs lock around his waist, and the way you're desperately gasping for air, that you're right there.

"There you go, sweetheart," he coos. "You're so fucking close aren't ya? I can feel it. You gonna come on my cock? Huh?Gonna let me feel that tight little pussy coming all over me?"

"Oh god, Joel," you sob, tears welling in your eyes, his words alone pushing you even closer.

"I know, honey. I know. Just let go, baby. C'mon, that's it. You can do it."

And then he's snaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles against the swollen bud, and the pleasure reaches its peak, the coil in your belly snapping, sending you careening off the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the most intense, powerful orgasm of your life tears right through you. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts, the rush of blood roaring in your ears as white-hot bliss erupts throughout every fiber of your being, your walls pulsing wildly, gushing slick around his cock.

He's there with you every step of the way, murmuring praise in your ear, fucking into you and grinding his cock against your cervix, prolonging your orgasm, extending it for what feels like an eternity. And then you're boneless, spent, and helplessly limp, barely aware of the way he's still rutting against you.

"So good, baby," he rasps, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And then you feel him start to swell and his thrusts become erratic and you know he's right there with you, teetering on the edge, ready to fall. A few more pumps of his hips, his pace frantic and uncoordinated before he pushes himself back up on his knees and pulls out of you with a hiss. He jerks himself for half a second before spilling all over your belly and your cunt, hot, thick ropes of cum splashing against your skin. He grunts and hisses through clenched teeth, a few last drops spilling out onto your pussy, his cock throbbing against you.

You feel completely and utterly destroyed, every part of your body buzzing and tingling, still trembling. And your head feels stuffy and foggy, a hazy, peaceful kind of bliss settling deep in your bones.

Joel slumps down next to you, breathing heavy, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. You glance over at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He's a sweaty, disheveled mess, and the sight makes your heart ache and swell, a rush of warmth flooding through your body.

He notices you looking at him and turns his head to meet your gaze, his own satisfied smile matching yours. You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of your throat and spilling past your lips in a breathy giggle. Joel's smile spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow and rolling onto his side.

"Nothing, I just," you giggle again, and it's almost a hysterical kind of laugh, a nervous kind of relief flooding through your body. "That was…"

Joel chuckles, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing across your forehead.

"Yeah, it was," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"And I…I just really like you, Joel. A lot. I don't know. I guess I'm just happy."

His face softens and he stares at you for a moment, his expression so fond and tender that you forget how to breathe for a moment. He leans down and kisses you, his lips gentle and warm before he pulls away.

"I guess I like you too," he murmurs, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno about a lot, but-"

"Shut up, you ass" you giggle, slapping his shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment."

He hums delightedly and presses another kiss to your forehead."M'kay, you have your moment. I'm gonna clean you up, alright?"

You pout but let him go, letting the afterglow of your climax envelop you until he returns a moment later with a warm wet cloth. His touch is tender, gently cleaning between your legs and then wiping the cum from your belly. You're still shaking, every touch sending little aftershocks through your body.

"So," he starts, tossing the cloth into the corner of the room before looking at you expectantly. "Best lay of your life?"

You laugh, your heart bursting at the seams, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard.

"Not even close."

Thank you for reading!! I apologize in advance for any errors I do not enjoy editing!!

tagging those who asked and who might be interested:

@shewantstoknow @pedritoferg @khindahra @wand-erer5 @akah565 @thereaperisabitch @first-edition @lilyevanstan1325 @lovelyjess69 @elliesswearjar @iloveenya @harriedandharassed @c2ss1e @paleidiot @starry-eyes-love @lola8888673 @saguchiya @milla-frenchy @cayleejz @missyorkswhore @farrowroyale @abbyandersonsragdoll @glimmering-darling-dolly @katiexpunk @worhols @thecasualnope @ahintofkiwistrawberry @lulawantmula @sawymredfox @prismaticpizza @serenadingtigers @venturawriter @kyloispunk @millercontracting @jjhayhay20 @bitchesuntitled @bean-is-reading @lvl-2005 @kamcrazy123 @covetyou @survivingandenduring @pinkiec6-rubi @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @pedroshotwifey @perfectlyfreeanalyst @plsdontmisfire @lokigonnakmsforbucky @kr-ickl3

I will not tag ageless/faceless (no pfp) blogs. If you asked to be tagged and weren't you either did not have an age/pfp or Tumblr wouldn't let me :(

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

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marvellous1917 · 1 year

Text

Icarus

(Part 1)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x tattoo artist!reader

Summary: you come home from work, only to find a mob boss in your house looking for your roommate.

Warnings: mentions of a gun, mentions of arms and drug trafficking, murder, kidnapping, torture, swearing, tattoos, gambling, think that’s it

A/n: I’m a simple girl. Mob!Bucky makes my brain go whurrrrrr. This is pure self service because I have this tattoo lol. Been along time guys what’s up?

————

“Late night?” The deep voice came from the dark.

“Holy-” fear spiked through your heart from the unfamiliar sound, your arms dropping the bags and your back crashing into the closed front door, “-who.. who are you?” You asked the unfamiliar voice. Turning slightly you see the long haired, leather covered man sat in the dining room. His left arm rested on the table, the prosthetic shining, the light from the street lamp outside shining through the window. His face was half shrouded in darkness, the other half showed his eyes, a little confused but also amused.

“You’re not Caleb.” He replied, sitting back in the chair, tilting his head to the side and moving something that looked suspiciously pistol shaped off of the table and into the inside pocket of his jacket, you reached up and flipped on the light.

“N-no no, I’m not. I’m his roommate.” You said, finally registering who you were talking to. The now fully visible metal arm was a pretty big giveaway, if nothing else. ‘There is a mob boss sat in my kitchen, what the fuck’.

“What do you want with Caleb? Does he owe you something?” The thought was out of your mouth before you could stop it. “Oh god no sorry forget I asked. Sorry... sir? I don’t-”

“I’m assuming from that reaction you know who I am,” He said, smirk on his face as he stood and moved closer, your back pressing flatter against the wall beside the door with every step he took.

“Of..of course I do, everyone in New York knows who you are..Sir” You replied.

“Hmm, I’m gonna take that as a compliment doll,”

“It is! Sorry! Congrats on all the… mafia shit.” Did I just say ‘mafia shit’ to a gangster.

The silence is awkward, his face blank and all you can think is ‘Oh my god I’m gonna die.’ His face twists into a …smile.. you think, y’know its hard to tell, fear has your vision all fuzzy.

He then starts to..laugh. He’s laughing? He’s actually laughing.

“Is this something you do before you kill people? You laugh, give them a false sense of security then shoot them?” You ramble quietly, confused at what’s happening.

He moved his left hand to rest on his stomach, the metal catching the light, shining right in you eye and it fully registered that, holy shit, James fucking Barnes, The Winter goddamn Soldier is in my house. This man is literally wanted by every law enforcement agent in the country, he’s in control of one of the most ruthless organisations in the world, they traffic arms and drugs and gun down anyone that gets in the way. Apparently, at least that’s what the news said. The stories about him though, way more upsetting.

The rumor was that after he left the special forces, he was captured by an organisation that wanted him to work for them. When he tried to escape the first time, they took his arm, and he was stuck working for them for a decade. The story goes that after he finally escaped, he tracked down everyone that was a part of it and killed them all, by himself. Alone. Just him. On his own. Then he took over their supply and demand and built his empire from the ground up.

“Oh god.. ‘congrats on all the mafia shit’, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a while…” he pushed out while chuckling. “I’m gonna get that shit tattooed, I swear,” he said.

“I could do that for you,” it was out of your mouth before you could stop it. ‘Oh my god, shut up Y/N’ you thought to yourself.

“What?” He asked, eyes flitting over to yours, his piercing stare causing all sorts of feeling to rise inside your chest; fear, confusion, attraction. Attraction? What? Damn him and his pretty face. He’s a killer Y/N, remember that?

“Nothing, sorry” you answered, looking down at your feet.

“No what did you say Y/n?” He asked again, his voice more stern than before. If you weren’t so scared, you would have questioned how he knew your name.

“I said that I could give you that tattoo, sorry, just slipped out” you replied, unsure what his response would be to your completely unnecessary comment.

“Stop apologising would’ya doll, there’s no need.” He said, sort of sweetly, a small comforting smile on his face, the pet name causing all sorts of lovely feelings inside.

“Sor.. yes Sir,” you corrected yourself.

“And stop calling me Sir darlin, only my employees call me that,” he said, “well my employees and some others..” he said with a dirty smirk, causing your eyebrows to raise sky high.

“Sorry Sir,” you said quickly, not even thinking. “…shit.”

“Seriously doll, you don’t need to be so scared of me,” he stated, his right hand reaching out and landing on your shoulder, your muscles tensing for a second then relaxing when you saw the look in his eye, he was telling the truth

“Ok.. then can I ask why you are here?” You ask, some fear creeping it’s way into your voice despite his reassurance. He kept his face carefully still and he looked you up and down, the feeling of being examined was strong, like he was trying to decide if you were worthy of knowing his business.

“You got it right earlier, your roommate owes me something, and I came to get it from him,” he removes his hand from your arm as he spoke after a tense silence. He was being purposely vague, trying to gage your reaction, to see if you were really clueless or you were playing with him.

“It’s money right, I mean it has to be, what else could he owe you. I told him to stop freaking borrowing money I swear I tried to stop him, but he never listened to me..l”

“You’re rambling darlin, you realise that?” He cuts you off with a smirk on his face.

“I’ve been told I do that when I’m nervous. I don’t know how much Caleb owes you and I don’t know what the situation is but.. if you.. I mean..”

“What doll? What are you trying to say. I won’t be mad, I swear,” Barnes responds, one side of his lips tugging upwards at your mumbling.

“Could you give him some more time?”

He was not expecting that. ‘Brave little thing’ he thought.

“I mean I don’t know how long he’s owed you for but he’s getting back on track I swear, he’s getting better, he is, in-fact he’s at a gamblers anonymous meeting right now, and he has a job interview tomorrow so he can pay rent and pay back people he owes money to.” You rush out, trying to help your friend, “Of course he never told me that he owes money to a mobster but that besides the point” you add quieter, more to yourself than anything but Barnes still heard it. He chuckled and ran his flesh hand through his hair, pushing back the long strands out of his face.

“He does owe money to a mobster, quite a lot in fact so I’m gonna have to say no to that request darlin, I’ve given him long enough.” He responds, his tone dripping with authority, the Brooklyn drawl on the pet name he threw out made your heart beat faster.

“Please. Please just think about it Sir.. uh Mr Barnes.. Sir. Caleb’s had a rough go of it lately, he lost his father not too long ago and he’s been a mess ever since, if you could just give..”

“I already said no once doll, I don’t like repeating myself.” His tone was final, and even though his words were not that intense, the threat in his voice hung in the air like poison gas before slamming into your chest, the fear that had previously been quelled came racing back, sitting on your shoulders like a lead coat.

The silence stayed for longer this time, you eyes firmly fixed to the floor to a sound even the possibility of upsetting the man that had broken into your home.

“So you’re a tattoo artist huh? He asked, his low voice calming you some. Huh he’s trying to make me less afraid of him, what kind of ruthless criminal is he?

“Yes..um I am,” you answer, incredibly aware of the position you were in, better to go along with whatever he did.

“You got a flash book?” He questioned, genuinely interested.

“Uh yeah I do.” You reply awkwardly, not sure where this new line of conversation was coming from.

“Can I see it?”

“…sure,” the word came out as a question.

He nodded at you, and you took it as a sign that you were good to move. Turning slowly and moving away from the wall to your bag on the floor, you reach down and grab your flash sketchbook and hand it to him.

“Are all of these available?” He asked, flipping through the pages, taking in each design.

Seeing him like this, calmly looking through the sketchbook makes it very easy to forget who he was, a ruthless calculating Mob Boss, wanted for almost every crime under the sun.

“The ones with the X’s over them have been done before but could be repeated if someone really wanted it,” you answered, slightly more confident in yourself as you were talking about something you loved.

“This is Latin, right, what does it mean?” He asked, moving to stand next to you pointing to a design in the book, an alien inside a bottle of wine.

“‘In Vino Veritas’, it means ‘In wine, there is truth’” you say, “ I though it was funny, y’know.. ‘the truth is out there’..aliens..” you trailed off, not sure how to explain that design

He let out an quiet amused sound, his shoulder brushing yours, sending a trail of chills down your spine.

“This one is beautiful,” he said, pointing to a different design on the next page.

“Thank you, it’s Icarus, I have it tattooed on me, it was hard as hell doing it on my own leg,” you say, proud of the design you created.

“Icarus, what’s his story? I can’t quite remember, ” he asks.

“It’s a Greek myth y’know, Icarus and his father were held captive by King Minos in a tower, his father created wax wings so they could fly away from their captors. The father warned Icarus from flying too high or too low, but he ignored his fathers warnings and flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. It’s a moral story to warn against the dangers of complacency and hubris, but to me it’s just a tragedy.” You say, turning to face him, making eye contact with the man. He listened intently to the story, his face unreadable but you thought you saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe he related to the myth, a man that was once held captive, now with everything in his hands, in danger of losing it all if he flew too close to the sun himself.

“A tragedy huh? I don’t think there’s anything tragic about it. He was warned not to do something dangerous and he went and did it anyway, it’s his own damn fault,” he stated, something slightly argumentative in his tone.

He looked straight at you while speaking and you couldn’t help but feel as if he was looking into your soul, like his statement was some kind of test.

“I agree with the idea that he got what he deserved, but I meant it as a tragedy for his father. Creating something so pure for you and your child to escape from captivity, only for your child to ignore your warnings and pay the ultimate price for it. His father probably spent the rest of his life regretting escaping his prison because that was the action that ultimately lead to his sons death. It’s heartbreaking if you see it from a different perspective,” you say back, not really expecting him to engage you in a philosophical debate.

“Hmm.. that’s an interesting way to see it, I’m not really one for looking at different perspectives, mine suits me just fine,” he answered, the fact that this man was dangerous came screaming back to you with the look on his face, blank like he was devout of all emotion at that moment. You got the feeling he wasn’t speaking metaphorically anymore.

The tension was palpable, you not knowing what to say next and him deciding he was done talking for the time being. He placed the book down on a side table, and turned back to you. “Y’know what, I want it.” He said, confusing flooding your brain.

“Want what?” You ask calmly, not wanting to push your luck with the man.

“That tattoo, the Icarus one, I want it.” He answers, leaning back against the side of the table he was sat at earlier. His crossed his arms, which should have been intimidating, but for some reason the only thought floating through your head was Damn his arms are bigger than my head. Gimmie.

“You want the Icarus?” You ask, somewhat stupidly and he had just said that.

“Yes I do,” he answered simply, “Are you free tomorrow?” He asks, smile on his face.

“Umm not really, I have a few appointments tomo..”

“Move them, hell cancel them. Block out a spot long enough for me to get this tattoo.” He states, cutting of your sentence.

“I can’t do that, it’s too short notice and I could loose..”

“I’ll pay what ever you lose for cancelling the appointments. I’m getting this done, tomorrow.” He cuts you off again, a finality in his tone that warns you it would be pointless and probably rather stupid to argue.

“Uh..ok” you respond, shaking your head a little, still trying to figure out what just happened.

“Great.” He clapped his hands together and the sound made you jump. Barnes either didn’t notice it or just didn’t care. “Give me your phone.”

“Huh? Why do you want my phone?” You question.

Barnes just rolled his eyes, walked forward until he was stood right infront of you, toe to toe, staring down at you with a semi amused look on his face.

“How am I supposed to find out where your shop is if you don’t text me the location?” He said sarcastically.

Literally a million different ways, google it for starters, get one of your goons to find it, stalk me and follow me there.. c’mon man think. Obviously you kept these thoughts to yourself but Barnes smirked as if he could hear them anyway. Pulling out your phone and handing it to him you ask, “What time do you want to come in for?”

“Around 1-ish doll, that ok?” He asked, knowing that it is, as he’s already told you to move/cancel your other appointments.

“That’s fine by me Bar..Mr Barnes” you answer, slipping up, almost forgetting the level of respect you should probably show to the gangster in your home.

He calls his phone from yours, adding the new number to contacts in both phones, “there, now you can let me know the address of your shop.”

“I’ll sent it to you tomorrow.. unless you want me to send it now?” You asked he hands your phone back , uncertain of what he wanted

“Tomorrows fine” he answers, walking backwards towards the front door, “I’ll see ya in the afternoon doll,” he says while opening the door and mostly leaving until he pauses completely, slowly turning back towards you.

This is it, he’s been messing with me this whole time and now he’s going to shoot me.

“Tell Caleb he has 6 weeks to get my money back to me or I’ll be paying him another visit, ok doll.” He says, no question in his voice. He waits until you answer with a “Yes, Mr Barnes,” and disappears into the hallway outside your apartment.

It takes about 5 minutes for the shock to fully wear off, and it causes you to stagger over to the couch, fall backwards onto it an ask into the empty room, “What the actual fuck just happened?”

As soon as the question was out of your mouth , your phone buzzed in your hand.

James:

Don’t ever call me Mr Barnes again Y/n.

It makes me feel ancient.

I hate that.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mob!bucky #bucky barnes #mob!bucky fic #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #tattoo artist!reader

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mercy-burning · 18 days

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A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be...

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out):

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x fem!Reader smut #criminal minds fanfic

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some-bunniii · 7 months

Text

ayo some luci angst just popped into my head, like….

imagine Lucifer falling in love with an employee at the hotel but their soul is owned by alastor and like?? luci is not happy about that.

*slams google docs on table, opens random 1.2k wrd snippet #234* behold…

x: GN!reader, no use of y/n

EDIT: read the full fic here

“What is this?”

Lucifer had asked suddenly, his pupils dilated, trained on something against your throat.

You sat on the edge of your bed, thumbs rubbing together in a soothing motion as you watched him move closer to you. Gulping, you parted your lips to speak.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything, before his hand gingerly lifted towards you. His nail grazed against your collarbone, and heat blossomed underneath your skin from his touch.

‘Please, just stop here,’ you silently begged, eyes squeezing shut as his finger rested against your figure, ‘don’t ruin this moment by digging any farther.’

Your reaction only spurred him, however. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, his pupils thin slits now as he watched you.

Slowly, his finger trailed upward, skin brushing softly against yours as he traced the invisible force only a powerful demon could see. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, every movement of his only quickening its pace.

Until his hand stopped, right in the middle of your neck, and you felt a sizzling against your skin. The heat was becoming too much, and you wanted to pull away from his touch. You didn’t, instead, you tensed, deathly still before him.

A soft golden light illuminated from Lucifer’s palm, as his fingers wrapped around an invisible object. A shadow formed in his grip, and he tugged at it, that glow in his palm growing stronger.

Backing away, he pulled a long, thin chain from your figure, it snaked from your throat as it followed his grasp.

He yanked it harshly, as if trying to free you of a parasite that found a home deep in your bones. But it only dragged across the floor, refusing to dislodge itself from your body.

A thick, metal collar snuggly encompassed your throat. The chain locked tightly against it, a vivid reminder of your poor decisions.

Lucifer’s palm slid across the cold, metal links. Eldritch magic seeped from its form in the shroud of thick fog. Archaic symbols danced at the edge of your vision as its glow illuminated Lucifer’s unreadable expression.

The chain was a sickly green, its harsh glow an annoyance to his eyes. It was embedded with a dark, chilling magic. Whispers of untold horrors and ancient curses coiling around you, promises of a fate worse than death.

Lucifer could practically smell it, that red demon's aura as it encircled around your frame. A twisted signature, practically scrawled across your forehead like a stamp of ownership.

Oh, the audacity of a person to take such a kind, selfless soul and rip it away from its owner.

You weren’t some dog to be beckoned at the flick of a wrist. You were so much more than that, you deserved so much more than that.

Yet here you were, the clasp around your neck like a shadowed hand, softly squeezing the life out of your eyes. He could see it, clear as day.

Small, white horns protruded from his head as he clenched the chain tighter. He tugged it once, twice, as if testing its durability. You leaned back slightly, the chain becoming taught between the two of you.

That collar around your throat kept you locked in place, as you watched him turn the chain in his hands. For a moment, Lucifer’s figure melded into the horrid shadow of your owner, and your eyes widened in fear at your delusion.

You could see it, feel it. Your stomach brushing the stained carpet beneath you with that haunting figure bent in a sickly, twisted angle in front you. That chain wrapped around the radio demon’s hand as he threatened you with terrible acts if you failed to stay in line.

Seeing your face contort into pained anguish only caused Lucifer to bare his teeth slightly, the sharp edges glinting in the light.

Seeing it so deeply entwined with your very being only further spurred the king’s anger. It seeped quietly from him, his grip tight against the chains as if trying to snap them with his bare hands.

“Who did this?” He hissed, his gaze boring into yours. He wanted to hear you say that demon’s name, wanted to hear you confirm the truth that was so obvious in front of him.

You knew he wasn’t angry at you, but still you bowed your head slightly. Averting your gaze from his pleading eyes, shame slowly clawing at your stomach. For a moment, you felt like throwing up. Wanting to rid yourself of the terrible feeling that was seeping into your skin.

You felt like crying, or throwing yourself into his arms. Wanting to melt into his hold, and be told again and again that everything would be alright. That the most powerful man in hell would come to your rescue.

But, deals that bartered in souls are a much more difficult magic to conquer.

Fighting the urge to collapse into his embrace, you steeled yourself. Hands planted against your knees, back straight in a pathetic attempt to have some kind of power in this moment.

Your eyes sullenly traced across the harsh links of the chain, its form all too familiar by now. Yet, it still caused such grief in your bones no matter how many times you looked upon it over the years.

Slowly, your eyes shifted to meet his gaze. Your lips curved into a frown at his expression, and your predicament.

How were you supposed to tell the love of your life your soul didn’t belong to you? That you were trapped in a deal of your own making?

Curse that little fine line in your deal that kept your mouth sealed shut, that prevented you from uttering his name.

“I-I..” You desperately tried to speak, to tell him the truth, but that invisible hand that pulled at your tongue forced your silence. Tears pricked at your eyes, the desperation in them evident as your attempts to explain only died behind those pretty lips of yours.

As your mouth shut in frustration, Lucifer’s anger only heightened. His eyes flared into a blood-red glow, a harsh change from that soft yellow radiance you often found yourself lost in.

He pivoted harshly away, his voice contorting into a snarl as he stalked out of the room. His overcoat appeared atop his shoulders, and it swished behind him as he moved.

Lucifer’s thoughts were too tangled with the images of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

The tears that had threatened to spill finally rolled down your cheeks, your lip quivering as your eyes lingered on the doorway he had just exited. His thoughts too mangled with the image of his claws wrapping around the deal-makers throat to sit there and console you.

Placing your face into your hands, you sobbed quietly.

Oh, how that regret had begun to consume you as you continued to wallow in your self-pity.

Regret, for thinking that giving away your soul was a simple feat. That somehow, you’d still be happy after the fact.

Regret, for falling in love when you knew the deal that kept you to that deer demon’s side would never allow you to enjoy such a fleeting emotion. No matter how hard you clawed to Lucifer’s soft embrace, that chain would always be there to drag you back.

Those soft whispers of affections, of promises you couldn’t keep. Knowing, one day, that constant-smiling demon could play his little games and tear you away from your lover’s hold forever.

Oh, what a lovestruck idiot you are.

thoughts?? this is just an interesting concept to me and i rlly wanted to share it with you guys! i woke up at like 4:30 am today and was like ‘what if..’ and this is what came of it haha

and mmm alastor makes a such a good bad guy too depending on the context x)

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #bunni’s tidbits #it’s been at the back of my head for awhile and i just needed to get it out haha #so many ideas in dis little noggin but only two hands jnxbsjbsns #imma just start sharing with yall all my little lightbulbs in my head hehe

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iloveolderman0 · 1 year

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#twisted metal sweet tooth #sweettooth twisted metal x reader #twisted metal x y/n #twisted metal 2023 #twisted metal headcanons #twisted metal x reader #i’m scared

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larabiatasstuff · 1 month

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Part one here 🖤

Part three🖤

My jaw hurt like hell and I was seeing stars. I crawled backwards trying to get away, to say something but I didn't have a chance. He grabbed me by the collar and threw me against a wall. I coughed holding my side still unable to speak. He took a few steps towards me grabbing me by the throat picking me up letting out a growl. I was scared he would break my windpipe so I channeled my last strength and ripped the mask off my face. Sweet Tooth look changed from angry to concerned.

He gently let me down holding me in his his arms. "No, no Y/N... My princess I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know it was you I was so... I was so focused on looking for please forgive me." "I... it's... Okay." was everything I managed to bring out. "God Y/N I won't forgive myself. I never wanted to hurt you and now look at you. You're bleeding." he said wiping the blood of my face. I tried to say something but my throat hurt too bad. "Don't... You don't have to say anything princess I geh you out of here okay." he looked deeply into my eyes and I nodded. He picked me up bridal style and brought me back to the truck. I could tell he was blaming himself for hurting me even if he didn't know that it was me. He gently placed me on the passengers seat and drove home. He did everything to make me feel comfortable. Tucked me in his blanket and made tea but he refused to touch me longer than just a few seconds. He didn't even sat next to me on the couch. He sat on the floor. My heart ached at the view in front of me so I got upand sat down next to him leaning my head against his shoulder. "Y/N..." he started his voice almost a whisper. I cleared my throat before I spoke with a raspy voice. "Stop that... You didn't know... It was me..." he shook his head "I should have known. I promised I would protect but instead... I hurt you." I took his arm putting it around my shoulders nuzzling closer to his body "You couldn't know it was me. Stop blaming yourself you would never hurt me on purpose." "You're right I wouldn't. But I know how strong I am and when I saw it was you I...you could have died." he said his words filled with sadness.

"But I'm not, I'm here right beside you and that all that matters to me." "Really? You're not... Scared or..." "Sweet Tooth why would I be scared? It was a misunderstanding. You didn't know it was me don't make a big deal out of it." he took my hand in his much larger one squeezing it. "But it is a big deal. Princess I could have lost you." "But you didn't. I'm still here and I'm not svared. I love you as much as I loved you before. It wasn't your fault I shouldn't have approached you like that. Please let don't blame yourself I'm fine. I'm really fine." He looked down at me before he pulled me closer to his body." You're right I just... I might be a little more careful. "." Do thst but please don't change just because of this. I'm still here, cuddling with you. " he chuckle" Yeah, I love you Y/N". "I love you too. And now let's forget about that and enjoy this okay?" "Okay princess."

#samoa joe #sweet tooth x reader #sweet tooth #twisted metal #sweet tooth x y/n #twisted metal sweet tooth #twisted metal series #needles kane #twisted metal 2023 #marcus kane

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vanteguccir · 30 days

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── ୨୧ !　EMERGENCY CONTACT

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is between life and death during a case, and the team needs to call her emergency contact, but she doesn't have one. Not until now.

WARNING: Use of gun, blood, getting shot, pain, usual CM violence (but not too violent).

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The evening was heavy with anticipation as Y/N and Morgan made their way through the dilapidated house. The floorboards creaked under their weight, and the air was thick with dust and tension. They moved cautiously, guns drawn, every sense on high alert.

The house, an old Victorian relic on the outskirts of town, was supposed to be abandoned, but they knew better. The unsub they were hunting had been using it as his hideout, his lair.

It was dark. Only the faint glow from a few broken windows offered any light. Shadows clung to the corners, making the already narrow hallways feel like tunnels into oblivion.

Morgan's eyes flicked over to Y/N as they moved silently down the hall. Her jaw was set in a hard line, her eyes scanning every inch of the space before them. They’d been partners long enough that he could read the tension in her posture, the way her fingers gripped her gun just a little tighter than usual. He gave her a slight nod, a silent assurance that they were in this together. Y/N returned the nod, her lips pressed into a thin line. They both knew what was at stake.

As they approached the doorway, leading to what looked like a kitchen, Morgan gestured for Y/N to take the lead, deciding to look into the hallway. She nodded and moved forward, peeking around the corner. Her heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Everything was eerily quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed trouble. She took a cautious step into the room, her gun leading the way, eyes darting to every possible hiding spot.

The silence was broken by the faintest creak behind her. Before she could react, a figure lunged from the shadows, catching her off guard. Y/N whipped around, finger already on the trigger. In her haste, she fired a shot into the darkness, the bullet embedding itself harmlessly into a corner.

The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space, and in that split second of chaos, the unsub took advantage. He moved like a snake, slithering out of the shadows, his hand shooting out to grab Y/N’s gun. His grip was iron-clad, and he twisted her arm, forcing her to drop her weapon.

"Y/N!" Morgan's voice came loudly from a closer room, the sound of his steps heavy and quick approached where the one from her gun came.

Y/N barely had time to register what was happening before she felt the cold, unforgiving metal of her own gun pressed against her temple. Her breath hitched, her heart racing as she looked into the eyes of the unsub. They were wild, manic, and pupils dilated with a dangerous mix of adrenaline and rage. His face was contorted into a sneer, lips pulled back to reveal yellowing teeth.

"Morgan!" Y/N called out, her voice steady but with a layer of fear and frustration. She knew he was right behind her, and sure enough, within seconds, Morgan burst into the room, his gun trained on the unsub. His dark eyes were fierce, anger simmering just beneath the surface as he took in the scene before him.

"Put the gun down and let her go. Now." Morgan commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl. He took a step forward, his gun unwavering, trained directly on the unsub’s head.

The unsub’s grip on Y/N tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. He pressed the barrel of the gun harder against her temple, causing her to wince.

"Back off, or I’ll blow her brains out!" He screamed, his voice cracking with desperation. His eyes darted around the room, wild and erratic, as if searching for an escape. But there was none. He was cornered, and he knew it. "You petty agents have destroyed all my plans, and now one of you will have to pay for it."

Morgan’s heart pounded, his mind racing. He could see Y/N’s fear, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. He needed to calm the unsub down to de-escalate the situation.

"Hey, hey." He said, his tone softening just a fraction, trying to project calm. "You don’t want to do this. Just let her go, and we can talk about this. We’ll figure it out. You don’t have to hurt anyone else."

The unsub laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.

"You think I’m stupid?" He spat, his voice dripping with venom. "I let her go, you’ll just shoot me! I’m not going to jail! I’m not going back there!" His hand trembled, and Y/N felt the gun shake against her temple, pressing her lips in a thin line.

Morgan clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking between the unsub and Y/N. He could see the terror in her eyes, the way she was trying to stay calm, to not make any sudden movements.

"Nobody has to go to jail." Morgan said, trying to keep his voice steady, soothing. "We can figure something out. Just let her go, okay? Let’s talk about this."

The unsub was breathing hard, his chest heaving. His eyes were darting around the room, looking for something that he could do or use. Morgan could see the panic setting in, the way his grip on Y/N tightened. This was a man on the edge, teetering on the brink of madness.

"Don’t come any closer!" The unsub yelled, his voice cracking. "I swear to God, I’ll shoot her!" His hand twitched, his finger hovering over the trigger.

"Okay, okay." Morgan said quickly, taking a small step back, raising his hands slightly to show he wasn’t a threat. "I’m not moving. Just... take it easy, alright? We don’t want anyone to get hurt."

Y/N’s heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst from her chest. She could feel the unsub’s breath on her neck, hot and fast. She knew she had to do something, anything, to distract him, to give Morgan a chance.

"You don’t have to do this." She said softly, trying to keep her voice calm. "Please. Just let me go. We can help you. Whatever it is, I can help."

The unsub’s eyes snapped to hers, his face twisting into a snarl.

"Shut up!" He screamed, his voice breaking. "Just shut up, you bitch!" His hand shook, and Y/N could feel the gun pressing harder against her skin, her eyes closing tightly with the feeling.

Morgan saw the movement, saw the unsub’s finger twitching on the trigger, and his heart lurched.

"Don’t!" He shouted, taking a step forward. "Don’t do it!"

The unsub’s eyes were wild, his grip on Y/N tightening as he shouted back.

"Stay back! I’ll do it! I’ll shoot her!"

It all happened so fast. One moment, they were yelling, voices overlapping in a desperate cacophony, and the next, there was a deafening bang. Y/N felt a searing pain in her right shoulder, too close to her neck, the force of the bullet knocking her off balance.

A scream tore from her throat as she crumpled to the ground, her vision blurring with tears. The pain was excruciating, a white-hot agony that radiated through her entire body.

She had forgotten how much a gunshot hurt.

In that split second, Morgan’s instincts kicked in. He raised his gun and fired three times. The bullets hit its marks, striking the unsub in the head. The force of the shot sent him reeling backward, his grip on the gun slackening. He hit the ground with a dull thud, blood pooling beneath his head, his eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

The unsub’s lower body fell against Y/N, pressing her more to the ground. She let out a choked sob, her hands clutching at her bleeding shoulder. Morgan was at her side in an instant, shoving the unsub’s body away and pressing his hands to her wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"Y/N, stay with me." Morgan said, his voice shaking, his hands slick with her blood. “Come on, mama, stay with me. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of here." His heart was pounding, fear clawing at his chest as he looked down at her pale face, her eyes fluttering closed.

His hands were slick with Y/N's blood, his mind racing as he tried to maintain pressure on her wound. Her skin was pale, her breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching out in a nightmarish haze. He could feel her slipping away, and the thought clawed at his heart, sending a chill of dread through him. He needed help, and he needed it now.

He reached up with one hand, pressing the button on his earpiece, his voice urgent and strained.

"This is Agent Derek Morgan! We have an agent down! Y/N’s been shot, I repeat, Y/N’s been shot! I need paramedics at our location, now!" His voice cracked, the fear breaking through his usually calm, composed demeanor.

There was a crackle of static in his ear, then Hotch’s voice came through, sharp and controlled.

"Morgan, what’s her status?"

Morgan looked down at Y/N, her eyes fluttering as she fought to stay conscious.

"It’s bad, Hotch. She’s been shot in the shoulder, too close to her neck, and she’s losing a lot of blood. We need those paramedics." His voice broke on the last word, the helplessness clawing at him. "The unsub is dead..."

"Hold on, Morgan, they’re on their way." Hotch said, his voice a calming presence even over the comms. "Keep her conscious if you can."

Morgan nodded, even though Hotch couldn’t see him.

"You hear that, Y/N? You stay with me, okay? Don’t you close your eyes. Help is coming." He squeezed her hand, willing her to hold on.

Y/N’s eyes flickered open, pain clouding her vision.

"Morgan... it hurts... like a bitch." She whispered, her voice weak, barely more than a breath.

"I know, sweetheart, I know." Morgan said, his heart breaking at the pain in her voice. "Just hang on a little longer. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you out of here." He kept his hands pressed against her wound, feeling the warmth of her blood seeping through his fingers, his own heart beating wildly in his chest.

Minutes stretched on like hours, but finally, the distant wail of sirens reached Morgan’s ears. He breathed a sigh of relief as the sound grew louder, closer.

The paramedics burst into the room before the cops - who ran directly to the unsub's dead body -, their faces a mix of professionalism and urgency. They moved quickly, efficiently, setting up a gurney and pushing Morgan aside to assess Y/N’s condition.

"She’s been shot in the shoulder." Morgan said, his voice tight with anxiety. "She’s lost a lot of blood."

One of the paramedics nodded, already working to stem the bleeding.

"We’ll take it from here, Agent. You did good."

Morgan stepped back, his hands stained red, watching as they worked. His heart pounded in his chest, a drumbeat of fear. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hotch, his expression grim but steady.

"The rest of the team is on their way." Hotch said quietly. "You did everything you could, Morgan."

Morgan nodded, his throat tight. He wanted to believe Hotch, but the sight of Y/N lying on the floor, her life seeping out of her with every passing second, was almost too much to bear.

The sound of hurried footsteps filled the air as the rest of the team arrived. Emily, Rossi, and Reid rushed into the room, their faces masks of shock and concern. Reid’s eyes locked onto Y/N, and in an instant, his expression changed from one of worry to one of anger.

"What the hell happened?" Reid demanded, his voice a harsh, angry whisper. His eyes were blazing, fists clenched at his sides. He looked from Y/N to Morgan, fury and fear mingling in his gaze. "How could you let this happen?"

Morgan’s jaw tightened, guilt and frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"Reid, it was-"

"You were supposed to protect her!" Reid shouted, taking a step toward Morgan, his face a mask of barely contained rage. "How could you let her get hurt?"

Morgan’s eyes flashed with his own anger, his voice rising to meet Reid’s.

"You think I wanted this? You think I’m not tearing myself apart over what happened? I was right here, Reid! I did everything I could!"

"Enough!" Emily’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and commanding. She stepped between them, her eyes darting between Reid and Morgan. "This isn’t helping anyone. We need to focus on Y/N right now. Fighting like teenagers isn’t going to change what happened."

Reid’s chest heaved, his fists still clenched. He looked from Morgan to Y/N, his anger melting into something softer, more vulnerable. The pain in his eyes was palpable, his hands shaking as he fought to control his emotions.

"Hotch, we need to call her emergency contact. They need to know and be here for whatever they will have to do to keep her alive." Rossi's voice echoed for the first time, his eyes focused entirely on Y/N's form.

Hotch’s brows furrowed, a distant look crossing his face as he tried to recall the information. He shook his head slowly, his voice heavy.

"Y/N doesn’t have an emergency contact listed in her files."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Reid’s face fell, the anger replaced by a deep, aching sadness. He knew what it was like to not have an emergency contact, to not have anyone close enough that you could count on when, well, an emergency happens.

"No..." He whispered, almost to himself. "No, that can’t be..."

He looked at Y/N, her face pale and still, and something inside him snapped. Without thinking, he spoke again, his voice firm, resolute.

"I’ll be her emergency contact." He turned to Hotch, his eyes burning with determination. "Isn’t that possible? I can do that, right?"

Hotch hesitated, knowing the protocols, the paperwork, and the formalities that were required. But as he looked into Reid’s eyes, he knew there was no question. The team was family, and in moments like this, family came first. He nodded slowly, his voice quiet but firm.

"Yes, Reid. You can be her emergency contact. For now."

Relief washed over Reid, his shoulders sagging. He turned back to Y/N, moving to her side as the paramedics lifted her onto the gurney. He reached out, taking her hand, squeezing it gently.

"I’m right here, Y/N." He whispered, his voice trembling. "I’m not going anywhere."

The paramedics nodded to Reid, indicating he could ride with them. Reid climbed into the back of the ambulance, never letting go of Y/N’s hand, his heart breaking at the sight of her so fragile, so still. The ambulance doors closed, and within seconds, they were speeding toward the hospital, sirens blaring.

As the ambulance sped away, Morgan stood in the doorway, his eyes fixed on the disappearing vehicle, his hands still stained with Y/N’s blood. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hotch, his expression somber.

"We’ll meet them at the hospital." Hotch said quietly. "She’s going to need all of us."

Morgan nodded, his heart heavy with guilt and fear.

"I should have made more." He said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Hotch squeezed his shoulder, a rare show of comfort.

"You did everything you could, Morgan. Now we have to hope she pulls through."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound that filled the room, a constant reminder that Y/N was alive, stable, and recovering. The sterile scent of the hospital lingered in the air, mingling with the soft hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.

Spencer sat on the small couch beside Y/N’s bed, his lanky form folded into the uncomfortable seat, eyes fixed on her pale face. He hadn’t moved in hours, not since they’d brought her out of surgery and told him she would be okay.

His heart had been in his throat then, relief flooding his system, washing over him in waves so strong he’d almost collapsed. But now, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving him exhausted, drained, his mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions. He hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, hadn’t even gotten up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t bring himself to leave her side, not even for a second. His hands rested on his knees, fingers interlaced, his knuckles white with the tension he held.

He watched her, every shallow breath she took a lifeline for him. The rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her eyelids; each small movement was a sign that she was still there, still fighting. He’d replayed the events of the day over and over in his mind, guilt gnawing at him for not being there, for not protecting her, even though he knew, logically, that there was nothing he could have done. But logic didn’t soothe the ache in his heart, the fear that had wrapped itself around his soul, squeezing tight.

A soft murmur broke through his thoughts, a faint sound that made his heart leap into his throat. His eyes snapped to Y/N’s face, and he saw her eyelids fluttering, her fingers twitching against the white sheets. He was on his feet in an instant, moving to her side, his hand reaching out to take hers gently.

"Y/N?" he whispered, his voice soft, trembling with the weight of his emotions. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the bright light of the hospital room making her squint. She blinked slowly, her vision blurry, disoriented, but as her eyes focused, they found Reid’s face, his wide puppy eyes filled with worry and relief. A small, tired smile tugged at her lips, her voice hoarse as she spoke.

"Spence..."

Relief washed over Reid, his chest aching with it. He squeezed her hand gently, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Yeah, I’m here." He said softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Y/N swallowed, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at the stitches in her shoulder.

"A little." She admitted, her voice weak but steady. "But it’s manageable. I’m okay, Spencer. I’m alive."

Spencer nodded, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"You scared me, Y/N." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "When I heard you’d been shot... I thought..." He trailed off, his throat closing up at the memory, the fear that had gripped him so tightly.

Y/N’s fingers tightened around his, her thumb brushing against his skin in a comforting gesture.

"I’m sorry." She whispered. "I didn’t mean to scare you. It just... happened so fast... The unsub, is he-"

Reid nodded, confirming her unfinished question - yes, he's dead -, his brow furrowing as he observed her, concern etching lines into his face.

"And mentally? How are you holding up?" He asked, his voice gentle, but with the unmistakable edge of a profiler. "I mean, after everything you went through today..."

Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment as she processed his question.

"I’m okay." She said slowly, her voice soft but firm. "It was terrifying, but... I'm alright."

"Are you sure?" He asked again, his eyes focused on hers, as if he was reading into her mind. "You know, it’s normal to experience symptoms of PTSD after a traumatic event like this." He continued after noticing how she hesitated to answer his question, his voice taking on that familiar tone of reciting facts. "Victims can often experience flashbacks, anxiety, depression... Did you know that the amygdala can become hyperactive, causing an exaggerated response to stressors? It’s important to talk about what happened to process it. Avoidance can actually worsen symptoms, so facing the trauma head-on is usually the best course of action..."

Y/N listened quietly, her eyes softening as she watched him talk. His words were a comfort, his knowledge a balm to her frayed nerves. She knew this side of Spencer, the need to rationalize, to explain, to wrap his mind around every detail until it made sense. It was one of the things she loved most about him. She didn’t interrupt - she never did -, letting him talk, his voice soothing her more than anything else could.

When he finally paused, taking a breath, she smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"Spence..." She said softly, her voice pulling him from his thoughts. He blinked, focusing on her, his expression anxious. "I’m really okay. I promise that if I go through any of these things you listed, I will let you know. Okay?" She assured him, her smile warm despite the pain in her side. "Thank you for being here."

Reid’s eyes softened, his grip on her hand tightening slightly.

"I wouldn’t be anywhere else." He said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty before he continued. "I, um... I told Hotch I’d be your emergency contact." He said, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid of her reaction. "I know it’s not official. There’s paperwork and procedures, but... I just... I couldn’t let you be alone."

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her brows drawing together as she looked at him.

"You... did that for me?" She asked, her voice soft, touched.

Reid nodded, his cheeks flushing slightly.

"I... I didn’t want you to be alone." He repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I care about you, Y/N. A lot. More than I probably should. And when I thought I might lose you today... I realized that I can’t... I can’t hide it anymore-"

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as she looked at him.

"Spencer..." She whispered, interrupting him, her voice filled with surprise.

Reid swallowed, his eyes dropping to their joined hands, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin.

"I’m in love with you, you know?" He said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I was too scared to tell you. But seeing you lying there, thinking I might never get the chance to say it... I had to tell you."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling with emotion. She could see the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability, the raw honesty of his confession.

"And it's... it's totally okay if you don't feel the same, I would totally understand it-" He started rumbling desperately after a long minute of silence.

Without a word, she reached up with her hand from her unharmed arm, her fingers curling into the fabric of his dark tie. She tugged him down, her movements slow and careful, mindful of the pain in her other shoulder.

Spencer’s eyes widened, his breath hitching as he let himself lean down, shutting up instantly, his face inches from hers. Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, her eyes shining with life.

"I love you too, Spence." She whispered, her voice filled with sincerity.

Before he could respond, she pulled him closer, her lips pressing against his in a gentle, tender kiss. It was soft, hesitant, but filled with all the emotions they had kept hidden for so long. Spencer’s heart raced, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her back, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin.

The kiss was everything he had ever dreamed of. Her lips were so soft and plump against his own, moving slowly in a perfect dance, her uncontrollable breathing hitting his face as a gentle and warm welcome.

As they pulled away, their foreheads resting together, Spencer’s heart felt lighter than it had in years. He had almost lost her, but now, as he looked into her eyes, he knew he would never let her go.

"I think you owe me a date now." Y/N whispered, a small smile stretching across her lips.

"Of... of course! As soon as we get out of here, I'll take you on as many dates as you want." Spencer nodded frantically, the tip of his nose hitting hers with his movements while his eyes traveled around her face, memorizing all the details he could finally see up close before lowering his head, meeting her lips with his own again.

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