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romanoffsbish · 6 months

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You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide

Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader

Natasha always knew the truth, but it wasn’t until a mission where she had you alone that she set her plan in motion. Come the end of the trip she planned to make your hers in the most natural way—claimed and bred. | WC: 1,440

Warnings: NC Themes (Discarding of hormone blockers) | Guns / Death (to Hydra)

Smut: Kotenok (R) | Penetration (P in V — Natasha has a penis) | Public (Over [a balcony railing]) | Choking | Breeding

Natasha watched the way you paced around the room, it'd been a weeks time since you'd arrived in this hotel. A mission that you were assigned on with Natasha, an Avenger first, Alpha second, but nonetheless an Alpha.

Which would be fine, since you were a beta, but with your medicine missing the truth was coming to light. The truth that the redhead was aware of from the second the lie left your lips, you were an omega; hers, waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she was over it.

———

That's why she took your stash of hormone blockers and poured them down the toilet on night one, at first she appreciated your concealment since she was busy. Missions were at an all time high last year when you joined Shield, but with the incoming fall of Hydra, as this mission is designed for such a thing, there was no longer a need for you to hide from predatory alpha's.

Natasha was here now, to make sure they all knew you were hers. Hers to claim, to wreck, to fill with her pups.

Her cock twitched when she got a whiff of your scent, it was dull from the prolonged use of drugs, but it was still clear enough for her to feel comforted by the soft swirls of cinnamon and vanilla. Then it soured as your body began to fight against the natural, debilitating heat that followed a sudden change, such as quitting your meds. Natasha was quick to croon from the other room, pumping out thick pheromones as she slowly entered the room. You looked up at her so pitifully.

"Oh kotenok," she coo'd, "You don't look too good, what's wrong beta? Are you going through a period?"

You whimpered, body trembling as your natural instincts made you throw yourself into her chest. "Alpha please." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, and held you close enough that you could feel her twitch through her pants. You cried and she smirked. “Oh, what a naughty girl, you’re no beta after all…”

Judging by her teasing tone, you understood that she knew, and with the way she gripped you, it was even more clear what had happened to your supply. You should be angry, but you were actually relieved. A single alpha like Natasha was rare to find, she was kind, soft when off the clock, and gorgeous in all facets. You’d almost poured the pills down the drain yourself every time you caught her staring at you after an event.

“I’m sorry, but please don’t pull away, I-I need you.”

"Are you gonna tell me why you've been hiding?"

"I-I wasn't ready to give up my life just yet, but fuck, I swear I'm ready now, if it's with you alpha, please."

"We have a mission," she reminded you, her eyes cast outside the window to catch movement of the enemy.

"Please!" You gripped her biceps, body shivering at the chiseled muscles that flexed beneath your fingers, if you didn't need her before, you sure did now. "Shit."

Natasha kept your body from falling with the buckle of your knees, her free hand reached for her long rifle and she took the both of you outside onto the balcony.

"I'll fuck you," she gave in with ease, and you purred softly at the good news. Then you felt her slipping your pants off and softly shrieked, "We're outside Natasha, anyone can see us." She chuckled, "Good observation."

Natasha continued to strip you while her other hand set her gun up on its stand, a bit of a multitasker.

"I can wait," you tried to stop her, but not really as you arched your bare ass into her dicks imprint, your body having a mind of its own, your heat was too strong. "Well, I don't want to detka, I've waited far too long."

Though you’d guessed it, you were shocked at the way she confirmed it without an ounce of shame. “Y-you knew?" Natasha gripped your hip, and brought your dripping entrance to her thick tip. "Of course I did, you can't hide from a super soldier's senses," her nose nuzzled over your neck and you whimpered at the hopeful promise of her claiming you. No longer were you worried about anyone seeing you two, the rest of the world faded away as she slipped herself inside.

Her hips stayed still, allowing your slick walls a moment to catch up with the stretch before she was lifting you off the ground. "Na-Natasha, what are..."

The redhead grunted as she lifted your body onto the railing by her grip around the nape of your neck, and you cried out in both fear and pleasure. It was muffled as she alluringly slid her hand around to squeeze your throat. The tip of her cock had slammed into your cervix just as you stared down at the far away ground, full of tiny silhouettes to remind you it was day time.

The railing shook as Natasha picked up a brutal pace, her face never lost its smirk as she felt your legs wrap around her backside, your heels painfully dug into her covered back. "Alpha, I-I'm not sure about..."

"You wanted to be filled Y/N," she taunted, "I said we had a mission, that means you'll take your pleasure while I do all of the work. Be thankful, not bratty."

"Sorry Alpha," you whimpered, and held on tighter.

"There's the leader," she pointlessly alerted you, who couldn't see anything other than her demise if she slips over the railing. Your walls were clenching so hard, hoping to instigate her knot so that you'd have a more secure base, but it was fruitless. Natasha's stamina was unworldly, and you were completely at her mercy here.

You heard a muffled shot go off over the sound of the railing squeaking beneath your moving body, then the gun was going off again. "Partner is down, two to go."

Natasha picked up her pace, and was rewarded with your filthy moans that were once muffled by your fear, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Which was fortunate for the both of you since she already shot another member, and was left with the other who had caught sight of the both of you. He was stuck in place, unable to comprehend that he was going to die by the hands of the Black Widow, who was railing her omega.

Natasha smirked, and finally gave into your cries to be upright. She grunted as your back pressed to her front and your slick, from your first orgasm, ran down her legs. "Last one detka, keep him distracted for me."

Your eyes locked on the others, the mans mouth was agape as he watched you get railed, it distracted him from the red dot that illuminated his forehead. He was clearly unaware of his fate as his eyes lost their life but you were aware of yours as her knot locked in place and her potent stream of cum filled you with a future.

"You are going to look so beautiful full of my pups," Natasha hoarsely groaned against your neck, her teeth barely scraped over your sensitive gland and you mewled, your walls milked her cock even more and her knot subsequently deflated after a minute of your persistence . “Fuck, I need to fill you again kotenok.”

Her strong hands held you by your hips as she carried you back into the hotel room. She laid you flat on the mattress, and pulled out of you, just long enough to flip you over and thrust right back inside of you. It was loud as your arousals rushed out, only to be sloshed all over the place as her cock entered you mid disposal.

Your body then thrashed at the harsh fill up and her canines dug into your scent gland, leaving behind her unbreakable mark as your core fluttered around her as you came again without much work. "Keep squeezing me just like that detka and we'll never be apart again."

"Good," you sighed softly, happiness clear in your eyes, "I was getting tired of being apart to begin with."

Natasha chuckled, and leaned in to chastely kiss your lips, "It was your choice to hide detka, I was waiting."

"I'm glad you grew impatient," you mused, then you nervously pressed a kiss to her neck, wet lips grazed over her scent gland. "Can I claim you too, Alpha?"

"Wait," she whispered, voice raspy as she began to pump in and out of you, "Wait for my knot detka..."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg

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theorphicangel · 1 month

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𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

no warnings. just soft for this man

The room is still; nothing but the pitch black night and the sound of heavy snores surrounding your four walls.

You suddenly find yourself awake and with an uncomfortable twist of your head, your eyes squint at the bloodshot-red digits of your bedside alarm which reads 4:24 am.

The sun hasn’t come up yet.

But you’ll wait. Just like it always waits for you.

A stream of moonlight falls upon your bedroom floor, the curtains not fully shut. Normally this would result in the immediate urge to shut them properly. But right now you don’t feel that urge.

Probably because there’s a heavy weight across your waist which prevents you from moving. Miguel’s arm wrapped snugly around you, keeping your body close to his. You can feel his chest rise and fall, a soothing rhythm throughout the night.

With help from the sole source of light in the room, you can just about make an outline of Miguel’s face. His snores are slightly muffled by his pillow as he sleeps on his stomach. Physically, he’s close to you; your face almost touching his, his thigh practically smothering your right leg and the gentle caress of his fingertips on your waist.

Yet, you can sense the distance between the two of you. One of you is dreaming and the other isn’t.

Nine times out of ten, he’s always been the one who wakes before you. Many times before have you woken to an empty bed; Miguel’s excuse was that he was feeling restless, instead preferring to get started on breakfast while he waits for you to awake. It’s a rare sight to actually see him by your side in the mornings.

Which is partly why you don’t hesitate to grasp this opportunity with both hands, studying him like your favorite art piece at the local museum.

You begin to Imprint his features into your mind or at least as much as you can in the limited lighting: his chiseled jawline and high cheekbones stand out to you as well as the curve of his nose and the length of his lashes. You begin to study the way his dark brown locks fall across his forehead, unstyled and messy and fluffy – just the way you like it.

You notice how all the faint lines of stress seem to melt away as he succumbs to slumber, his brows relaxed and lips parted. The corners of your lips upturn at the thought of teasing him for his slight drooling or even better yet his sleep talking. It’s only a few incoherent mumbles here and there but you’ll still tease him nonetheless.

He’ll deny it of course, claiming you have no proof, a banter that you’ll begin later whilst you sit on the counter and watch him make breakfast for the two of you. You may not always be a morning person but it’s moments like those which motivate you to get up and out of bed the most.

Gently, you bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. Your touch is soft, careful not to disturb him from his sleep. You’re not sure how much he’s been getting recently. As your palm makes contact with his skin, you can feel your heart swell. A gooey, sticky sort of emotion sticking between the gaps of your ribcage – a large part of you thinks it’s love but it’s too early to tell.

How would he react, you think, if you did tell him that you loved him?

From afar or from the perspective of a stranger, Miguel’s personality seems to be stoic. He’s someone who takes his work and craft seriously, seeming to have no speciality for jokes or games.

At least that’s what it looks like on the outside.

For years he’s built up these walls which seemed to be impenetrable and unrelenting. To others it was a sign to keep their distance, a warning to stay away but to you it was a sign of someone who was desperate to be loved. To be loved and held by someone in this lifetime even if it was only temporary.

Like a shadow you slipped in through the cracks, transitioning from something which he initially thought would be temporary into something that seems worthwhile.

Just like the grip he has around your waist in this current moment you can tell that he’s scared you’ll disappear. Now that he’s found you he really doesn’t want to let you go.

You won’t tell him yet, you think. You won’t express your sudden realization of wanting to be around him all time, wanting to learn everything about him, wanting to be indulged in every single thought that he has, even the weird, stupid ones.

You want to continue your late night conversations that run until 4am but only feel like five minutes. You want to continue feeling his body relax in your arms each and every time you surprise him with a hug from behind. You want to feel like home for him as he does for you.

You want to tell him this and more but a small injection of anxiety seems to prevent the words from forming on your tongue. It’s a sworn secret kept between yourself and the moon.

And you think it’ll stay a secret for a little longer, just until you figure out a way to find out if he feels something similar, just until the sun comes up again.

tysm for reading!! reblogs are very much appreciated :)

#angel writes #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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i8ickygrl · 4 months

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（⭒ ˘˘）ᵎ🖋️➞﹕size kink 🪷

featuring: character insert- imagine whoever you want! warnings: size kink, no protection, cumming inside, hickeys(?? idk lol), pet names (princess, baby, babe, pretty girl), lemme know if i missed anything proofread(?): kinda authors note: aaahhh first fic! this was supposed to be a drabble about reiner about but then i got carried away and couldn't choose who to make this for. leave a like or a reblog if you can. also, please leave requests! thank you for reading, lovey <3

“you’re so fucking pretty.” he runs his hand through your hair and gently pulls you away from the kiss. his lips and chin are shining softly from your lipgloss. you let out a small giggle in your blissed out state and wipe away the gloss on his lips.

oblivious to you helping him, his hand, still placed in your hair, gently pulls your head to the side. he starts at your ear, licking a small stripe over it before kissing the lobe. his deep pants and moans never going unnoticed. his free hand softly pats your thigh, a signal you didn’t have to think twice about. you place both you hands on his shoulders and fix yourself to straddle his lap.

your hands take time to explore his broad shoulders. you reveled in the contrast of your size as your small hands traced over the perfect dips of the muscles in his arms. you carefully snake your fingers underneath his white tank top, then taking the opportunity to feel his upper back. you suck part of your bottom lip between your teeth, the feeling of his chiseled form under your finger tips beyond aortic.

his lips have made it to your neck now, pecking and licking over the skin as if he’s actually kissing you. his hand, preciously on your thigh, effortlessly wraps around you waist. you moan sweetly at the feeling of his body overtaking yours. you snake a hand behind his neck and into his hair, gently stroking your thumb over him.

you push his head impossibly closer to the skin of your neck while throwing your head back in pleasure. unlike your boyfriend, you hadn’t noticed the arch in your back and the slight grind in your hips, the thin fabric of his boxers doing little to hide the way his dick jumps.

“so needy for me, huh baby?” his voice alone sent shivers down your spine. his strong arm began guiding your waist to a smooth and sensual grind against him. you bring your head back down, level with his ear, and continue to grind against him. the kisses on your neck become more desperate now and his groans aren’t as quiet as before.

“babe…” the sultry moan is all he needs to understand exactly what you needed. he lifted his head from your neck, admiring the hickey he left there. he firmly grips your waist with one hand and cradles your head with the other before laying you on the pillows behind you. he adjusted his body above you, now on his knees with you laying in-between him, your legs on either side of his waist.

growing impatient, you lift your legs from around him and make quick work of sliding your cotton shorts off. with your legs in front of his face now, he takes hold of your ankles with one hand and moves your legs to the side so your face was now in view. he softly kisses at the skin on your ankle while his other hand smooths over you stomach and squeezes your breast, all while keeping eye contact.

you throw your head back and sigh in pleasure, placing your hand on top of the one that was on your breast. when your head falls back down, your eyes take notice to the veins in his arm as his finger moves over your nipple. your eyes slowly move upward, making their way to his shoulder, watching the way his bicep flexes as he moves. you clench desperately around nothing and whimper, “s-stop teasing.”

he chuckles darkly before letting go of your ankles and positioning them around his waist again. you place your hands on his knees and watch intently and his hands make their way to his boxers. the imprint alone making your pussy impossibly wetter. he gives himself a view tugs before pulling his boxers below his length. you watch as it slaps against his stomach and he lets out a quiet hiss, his hand goes to stroke the length again but you whine out a ‘wait’ and take it into your hand. he watches as your hand struggles to wrap around him, gently stroking up and down while flicking your wrist.

“gotta…prep you, baby.” he struggles to maintain his composure watching you pleasure him.

he places his thumb over the fabric of your underwear, about to circle around your clit, before you protest with another whine. “’s gonna take too long. i can’t wait anymore.” you take you hands off of his length and bring them to his wrist, looking up him in through your lashes and pouting.

you watch him think for a second before he sighs in defeat.

“fine.” he agrees, not being able to say no to you. he moves his body so he’s properly positioned in missionary and your legs bend and open wider to make room for him. watching him move your underwear to the side and position his length to enter you, you know the stretch is gonna hurt. but it’ll be sooo worth it.

one hand on his dick and the other on your waist, he rubs himself over your pussy to gather all your wetness. when he feels there’s enough, he finally pushes his tip right against your entrance allowing it to inch slightly into you. before he can fully sink in he takes your hand and pins it next to your head, giving you something to hold onto. he leans forward slightly so your foreheads are almost touching and begins easing his length inside of you.

you both let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as he slowly bottoms out inside of you. your face scrunches up from the sting and you suck in a breath, tightly gripping his hand. distracting yourself, you ogle at the way your clit pressed right up against his short patch of pubic hair leading up to his happy trail. with his cock pressing deliciously against the walls of your pussy, you grind against him to get the friction you desperately craved.

“ready for me, princess?” he questions, already knowing the answer. you shake your head yes in response and he gives you a small peck before beginning to grind into you.

you wiggle you hand out of his grip and quickly move you hands to his broad shoulders, pulling him closer to you. his hand wrap around your waist and you arch off the bed in response. he tucks his head in the dip of your neck as his hips stuttered, finding the smooth pace he set hard maintain with how tightly you were squeezing him. he lifted his head over yours to see your eyes lolling shut as you writhed in pleasure. his name sounded like honey rolling off of your tongue in between moans and whines, your lips swollen from how long you’d been kissing before.

“fuck it.” he mumbled before grabbing your waist and pulling your hips to meet his thrusts. you screamed out in ecstasy as his dick rubbed right against your g-spot. he hissed as your nails dragged down his back, secretly loving the burn. the sound of your ass meeting his hips grew louder and quicker, competing with the sound of your moans.

“so big… ’s so big!” you rambled. he looked so fucking good right now. his eyebrows were knit together in concentration as bead of sweat began to form of his forehead. the feeling of his body fully towering over yours made you feel numb. you could feel the pit of your stomach twist, your orgasm threatening to come at any second.

“gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he could feel you pussy clenching him, trying to milk him for everything he could give. the only response you could give was a small nod, too occupied with feeling his arms flex underneath you hands and the filthy sound of your pussy gushing over his length.

“do it, baby. cum all over this dick.” your eyes closed as he continued to coax you to your climax.

“show me how good i’m making you feel.”

“make a mess for me, baby.”

your legs shook violently as he gave a few more quick and deep thrusts before you finally came around him. he was right behind you, throwing his head back and moaning your name and he filled your pussy.

after a few moments for both of you to catch your breath, he looked between you both and slowly pulled himself out. he admired the ring of your slick around the base of his dick, before gently pushing on your lower stomach and watching his cum spill out of you and cursing under his breath.

“you’re so nasty” you giggle as you lay your arm over your eyes.

“you know you love it.” he says simply, bending down to kiss one of your breasts.

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joshlmbrt · 4 months

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Dream On. (s. harrington x reader)

cw; jealous steve, some loser trying his HARDEST, eddie making fun of steve, not canon complaint, based in the 90s’, yes this is based on dream on by aerosmith, kissing against a pool table in front of ppl, use of y/n ONCE - i’m sorry, it was needed 😭.

song; dream on - aerosmith

an; yes!!! jealous steve! this is my first time writing anything remotely to anyone being jealous - so it might not be that good!!!

AERO, CHICAGO. 1992.

𖡡 STARDUST.

“Dustin was upset he couldn’t come,” Robin takes the drink Eddie slides over to her. She pulls the cherry out by the stem. “Had to study for a test. Well, Steve made him.”

“Hey!” Steve turns to look at the girl. “I know he’s smart, but I don’t want him to fail!”

“It’s okay, Stevie,” You lift your hand, pushing your fingers through his hair. “You just want what’s best for him.”

“See.” He points at you, nodding enthusiastically.

“Even if it means he can’t see his old pal.” You grin when you see his smile drop. Eddie chuckles and slides you the Miami Sunrise you ordered. “Thanks, Eds.”

He gives you a little wink. Steve narrows his eyes at him.

“And who are these lovely people?” A girl steps out from the back room. Her hair was teased to the Heavens and red lipstick perfected. Not a smudge in sight.

“Oh, these are my friends from Hawkins,” He introduces you all. “Guys, this is my lady, Foxy.” He wiggles his brows, tattooed arm slipping around her waist.

She gives a wave before pressing a kiss to his cheek, a small imprint of red being left behind. “See ya later. Steak?”

“And twice baked potatoes?”

“You got it, love.” She pinches at his chin. She walks off, red boots clicking as she goes.

“Marry me already!” He calls out. He was never afraid to make a scene when it came to the ones he loved deeply.

People around the bar looks towards him, brows lifted and some grumbling.

She laughs, slipping on the leather jacket and pulling her hair that was stuck from underneath. “Save up and buy me a ring and propose to me, then I’ll sleep on it.” She winks, pushing the doors open and walking out.

You turn to Eddie, brows lifting. “You gotta ‘lil something right here.” You tease, pointing to your cheek.

He looks away from the door, rolling his eyes. “Ha-ha. Funny.”

You laugh a bit, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Come on, Robs. I believe you challenged me to some pool.” You slip off the stool, walking towards the pool table.

Robin blinks a couple of times before looking between Steve and Eddie. Her eyes land on Steve. “Do you think she’ll beat me?” She whispers.

He snorts, bringing the beer bottle to his lips. “Oh, yeah. Good luck.”

She grumbles, slipping out of her own seat. “I don’t have fifty bucks, so slip me a couple of bills, please.”

Steve’s brows lift.

She holds out her hand. “Cough it up. You owe me anyway.”

He rolls his eyes, pulling his wallet out, pulling out fifty bucks and placing it into her hand. “If you win, give it back. I do not owe you fifty.”

She grins and folds the money, stuffing it into her pocket as she walks away. She pats his back.

“She won’t give it back, will she?”

“No.” Eddie smirks, grabbing another beer and cracking it open for Steve, placing it in front of him.

✯

An hour later, Stardust had become a little more crowded and a little more rowdy - not enough to make you all leave though.

You and Robin were still playing pool while Steve sat by himself, speaking to Eddie when he was free of customers.

“Uh… Steve,” Eddie had been peeking towards the pool tables that had a dim, dingy light above them. “I don’t want you to, like, freak out. But there’s a man who’s been at the pool table with Robin and Y/N. And I don’t think he’s interested in Robs.”

Steve’s brows pinch together and he turns to stare at the pool table.

The man in question was handsome - no doubt. Chiseled features, a tattoo sleeve with a couple of tattoos on his knuckles, brown hair with some blonde highlights.

“Does he come in here often?”

“Boy, does he? He’s in here every night flirting with anything that’s breathing and walking on two legs,” Eddie rolls his eyes, catching a hand at the end of the bar lift. “Hold on. I’ll be right bac-” He stops, watching as Steve makes his way over.

“-I’ll show you my favorite song.” And he even has good voice? Steve cannot win.

You peek up at him, lifting a brow. “What song would that be?” You tilt your head to the side. Robin notices Steve, making a face.

“Help.” She mouths.

He grins, turning and walking towards the jukebox in the corner. He slips in a quarter and picks Dream On.

Eddie groans internally when he hears the song - not that he dislikes it, but there is so many times you can play a song.

The man - Drew - steps back, pearly whites on show. Steve’s arm drapes over your shoulder. “Who’s this?” His voice cracks a bit.

Drew looks over at him, lifting a brow.

“Oh, this is Drew,” You point at him, shrugging. Steve’s eyes narrow at him. “Could you get me another drink?” You’re already staring at him with a smile.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your temple as he walks off. Robin goes with him. You curse her in your mind.

“So… I seen that you were having a bit of trouble.” Drew slowly walks towards you.

“With what?” You grab the chalk and rub it on the end of the stick.

“With pool,” You want to laugh in his face. “I could show you.”

“Sure,” Before he gets any closer, you slap the stick into his chest. He huffs. “Show me.”

He clears his throat. “Well, it’s kind of better to learn by actually showing you - if you know what I mean.”

You open your mouth to quickly retaliate. “Here’s that drink, babe.” Steve smiles.

“Thanks, honey.” You grab it from his hand, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his mouth.

Before you could fully pull away from Steve, his hand is grabbing the back of your head, pulling you closer and kissing you again. You squeak when your back hits the side of the pool table, the feeling of his hand traveling to the side of your neck.

He tasted faintly your mango chapstick he had stolen earlier, cherries he had snacked on, and beer, a weird but nice combination that. He grips at the side of your neck softly, his fingernails digging into your skin slightly, pulling away slowly.

He presses one last faint kiss to each corner of your mouth before pulling away fully and pushing your hair behind your ears.

He peeks over your shoulder and notices Drew was officially gone, making some ‘moves’ - if you could even call them that - on another poor girl.

You grin, wiping some gloss from his lip. “You’re so cute.”

He looks down at you, cheeks burning. “What?”

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.” He denies quickly.

You lift your brows. “No? Well, then I’ll get Drew. I’m dying to know what he was-”

“No!” He grabs your arm. He knew you wasn’t actually going to talk to Drew again, but just the thought irked him.

You grin at him and grab your glass and Steve’s hand, making your way back to the bar. “Don’t worry, Stevie. You’re the only one for me.”

“You’re cheesy.”

“And gross,” Eddie makes a face. Steve looks at him, face burning with embarrassment when he realizes what he did. “I have to disinfect the pool table.”

for; @reidsbtch !!! i hope i did jealous!steve justice for u

steve tags; @officerrrfriendly, @lavendermunson, @keerygal, @queercodedcharacter, @halflifejess, @whisperingwillowxox, @alltoomay

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, likes, feedback, & requests are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #jealous!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #joe keery x reader

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politemenacephd · 3 months

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A Labor of Love (+18)

Blue Collar!Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Content: Workplace Sex, Edging/Orgasm denial, Messy Blowjob, PinV Sex, Creampie, Joint Orgasm.

Word count: 1802 Notes: Forgive me this is Very indulgent, my big dumb gay husband is an engineering apprentice, he used to be a mechanic too and I'm a little loopy rn for big dudes in work overalls. Let me have this pls

‘Shh, shh, quiet- babe, quiet, mm—’

You jolted as Miguel’s lips hit yours, the larger man ravenously bending your spine as he explored your mouth. Hiding out in his workshop round back, with his gloved hands on your waist and his body on yours, you were in quite the precarious situation.

You’d come into Miguel’s work to drop off his lunch because he’d forgotten to take it in, something you blamed yourself for. After all, you had been the one distracting him that morning, with your fingers in his hair and around his cock, teasing that big naked hunk until he mewled.

He’d left you an unfulfilled mess when he was eventually forced to run so he wasn’t late, your hand sticky with cum and your hair dishevelled from being pulled, and while he’d kissed you goodbye you couldn’t stand to be left alone until the evening.

You were so hot. Your clit was left throbbing, swollen and sensitive, almost painfully so.

You tried to work it out yourself, but it wasn’t the same. You missed him too much. His chiselled face, his round almond eyes, the thick, dark hair that covered him from his head to his chest to his belly. His body the perfect balance of muscle and fat, his skin dark and calloused and scarred, musky and hot.

You’d just wanted to see him. Really, that was all. You just wanted a glimpse of your beautiful man, lounging against the wall in his messy, grease covered overalls, the fabric straining against the contours of his upper body, his thickset jaw smeared with dirt because he kept forgetting to wash his hands.

You wanted to see him smile, his red eyes gleaming with joy at the sight of his little house pet.

So, with his food in your bag, you’d gone to his workplace. He worked nearby as one of Alchemax’s mechanical engineers. He was easy to find in the workshops round back, either soldering something huge or recklessly cutting metal without cover.

You’d expected him to be happy to see you, but you’d underestimated just how much joy the sight of you would spark.

It was your fault, he whispered as he dragged you into the back, for coming over dressed like that. You hadn’t thought anything of it yourself. What, your favourite jumper and slacks? You weren’t trying to provoke his eye.

But that was just it. His sweet, precious little thing, all bundled up in your favourite clothes, so soft and innocent. How could he not indulge? How could he not slip you aside, promising the guys he’d be right back, only to throw you on his work bench and rip up that cute little jumper?

You lost all of your inhibitions with that brute between your legs, gently grinding your body into the hard wooden table while his tongue bullied yours. You began urgently pushing his hands down to towards your spread thighs.

‘Babe, I can’t- do that’ he grunted between kisses, ‘my fingers— I, fuck—Mm—I’m too messy—’

‘Please’ you whined. ‘Please, please—’

‘Ay por Dios—you’re such a brat, aren’t you?’

With a soft grunt he withdrew from the kiss and raised his gloved hand to his mouth, his thick canines easily tearing the leather. He tore it aside and spat it out.

‘Here, fuck—’

You felt his hard, calloused hands shove your thighs aside, and soon he was massaging your clit through your slacks. You shivered and melted at the sweet relief.

He’d only had the forethought to gruffly brush his hands on his work clothes before playing with you, and you could see the little imprints of soldering dirt on your newly washed clothes. You didn’t care at all.

‘I missed you so much baby’ he grunted.

His full lips hit your neck and sucked hard, his teeth pulling at the skin until it stung. You whimpered.

‘Ah- c-careful, they’ll hear.’

Miguel pulled back and kissed your ear before whispering. ‘Guys are soldering. They won’t hear shit, mi amor, you’re safe with me.’ The brush of his breath on your ear made you quiver. ‘Besides, they know not to fuck with me. They’ll keep their mouths shut.’

He smelled so strong, like machine oil and musk and hot denim, with just the soft underlying scent of that sandalwood soap you’d got him. He used it on everything, even his hair, which you knew because you were now frantically burying your face into his thick locks to muffle your moans.

'Okay, okay, just—I’ll make it a quicky, okay?’ he murmured.

With frantic motions he pulled off his work overalls, letting you gawk momentarily at the flash of his physique. He forced his slacks down and let his erect cock fall out.

You were transfixed by the way it twitched, straining for attention, thick and fat and surrounded by dark hair, just like the rest of him.

‘Your mouth, baby, since you were so worried about being heard’ he whispered while gesturing for your face, his mouth now drawn up into a breathless and teasing smile. You couldn’t help yourself.

With a soft whine you shuffled from the desk and onto your knees, down on the hard floor. You cast him one quick look before sliding his shaft between your lips.

‘Mm—fuck, that’s it’ he sighed. His voice was so low, so gruff, as was his hand as it began to tangle itself into your hair. He pulled it tight, just the way you liked. ‘Come on baby, that’s it.’

His shaft pushed your jaw to its limits as he eased it down to your throat.

He was still sweaty, still hot from work, but you didn’t care. It made it better. You let him push you until you were almost choking.

‘Yeah, babe, that’s it. You know what to do.’

There was nothing like surrendering to his hand and catching his eye as he pumped into your mouth. There was no better feeling than his affectionate smile, or his thumb and forefinger griping your chin, knowing that his pre-cum was coating your throat. It was all you could taste.

He could feel the urge to cum in your mouth. It was a heavy temptation, the idea of seeing your eyes widen as you swallowed his load, your little thighs shaking as it dripped down your face.

But he could never be satisfied with just that. You’d shown up, looking all cute and coy, distracting him from his work, and he wouldn’t be happy until you left with your little legs stuck together.

With a gentle grunt he tugged your hair, pulling you back. His cock slid from your mouth with a soft, wet pop, leaving a messy trail of glimmering fluid between your lips and his member.

‘Okay, up’ he barked in a whispered shout, ‘get up. On the bench for me, baby.’

You scrambled to do as told, and the moment your ass hit the flat top his hands were on your slacks. He ripped them down to your ankles but left your panties on. He opted to just pushed them aside with his thumb instead, all while his other hand wrenched your ankle up and aside. He spread you easily.

‘M-Mig’ you panted.

He didn’t answer. He pulled you forward until your back was on the bench, your legs spread around his small waist. He gave a satisfied snort as he realized it was the perfect height. You watched, breathless, as his thick member began gently nudging at your creamy little cunt. It felt so warm.

‘Mig’ you repeated.

‘Quiet baby, and I’ll give you what you wanted’ he cooed. You obediently pursed your lips.

With a hefty grunt he pushed in hard. He slid in easy despite the size, slipping his shaft right up until it kissed your cervix. You had to cover your own mouth to hide the screams. You could feel the strength in his body as he bottomed out, his balls pressed hard against your ass.

‘Fuck- fuck that’s it.’

With a harsh grunt he started to move. He was so fucking rough, with his sharp hips pulsing between your thighs and his hand squeezing your ankle until it hurt. The wet clap of his body hitting yours began to fill the quiet little workshop.

Miguel bent back to watch his cock impale you. Thin strings of your thick slick were hanging from his hair and your pussy in delicious little pearly decorations. He pumped hard, once, in just the right way to make more sweet fluid spill out. It oozed around the edge of his shaft, betraying just how tightly packed you were.

‘You were real desperate, huh baby?’ he panted.

Your panties, still being held to the side by his thumb, were soon utterly soaked. You could feel the thin strip of fabric chaffing your inner thigh as each sharp thrust caused it to rub and shift.

‘Desperate little brat, that’s what I like. That’s who I want. You’re gonna get a fat fuckin’ load of my cum in you.’

You groaned, hard, and let him fuck you dumb.

You let him pound your fragile body into the hard wooden bench.

You let him coat you in his greasy fingerprints from head to toe.

You let him slap your thigh until it jiggled, and most of all, you let him utterly ruin your desperate cunt with his hefty cock. You felt every inch as it stuffed you, stretched you, making you his.

Each hard pump was fucking away that ache, that burning need, and each bite of his lip was making you see stars. You heard his men calling from the other shop, and god knows you didn’t care one bit.

You felt that sweet release starting to build.

‘Mmmf—mmmf—’

You frantically clawed at his thick, hairy arms, trying to signal you were close. You saw his lip curl as he started to pump harder.

‘Fuck—that’s it, come on babe, cum on my cock. Do it for me.’

He dropped your panties and gently licked his thumb before pressing it down on your clit, carefully nudging that swollen nub to completion. He was so rough, so hard, but that was enough to tip you over.

When you came, he came with you. You screamed into your hand as he groaned out load, your cunt clenching his shaft tight until you could feel every vein and every inch of skin. He filled you up quick, smothering your pulsing insides with rope after rope of thick, virile cum, so warm and soothing on your pussy.

He pumped it as deep as he could before letting his body relax. He held himself inside you, his huge palm gently patting your ass. After giving himself a few moment to recuperate, he bent down to whisper in your ear once more.

‘Get yourself home safe baby, okay? And be ready, ‘cos as soon as I get off, your ass is mine again.’

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #smut #18+ only #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

If you’re comfortable, could you write a a drabble about Jungkook and reader being in a relationship, where reader is self-conscious about her body in comparison to his? And even though she doesn’t think she’s pretty enough for him, he thinks she’s perfect as she is?

tw: body talk / body dysmorphia / negative self-image / reader doesn’t understand that she is capable of Hot Girl Shit™️ at any & every weight. Image below is Jungkook bewitched by reader’s mere existence. (will proofread later, am so sleppy)

UPDATE (12/27/22) Anon requested this drabble from Jungkook’s POV. Read it here.

It was irrational and you knew it.

Jungkook had seen you naked more times than you could count, but virtually none of those moments happened outside the context of sex. He’d seen you bare, sweating, splayed - and yet you felt so much more exposed by simply changing out of your work attire in his presence. Somehow, this kind of nudity felt different. More intimate. Vulnerable.

He wasn’t with you that morning when you had to jump to pull your trousers on, and you were thankful - because that’s something you hadn’t needed to do until recently. He didn’t witness your attempts to make yourself smaller just to close the two buttons at the apex of your high-waisted pants. He didn’t know how many times you twisted and turned in front of your full-length mirror; or see how your body looked different - unrecognizably so - with every new angle.

But he was with you now, and his upsettingly lean frame was stretched across your bed while he waited for you to finish. Steel-cut abdominals pressed flush against the comforter, sharp jaw propped up on the heel of his hand. Even through the fabric of his t-shirt, you could chart the topographic map of his shoulder muscles, and the decidedly unfair curves of his biceps. You couldn’t fathom it - how he had the audacity to look that good without even meaning to. He was gorgeous and it was offensive.

You, on the other hand, were not chiseled from marble. You’d felt bloated all day; and the only reason you hadn’t already ripped yourself free from your trousers was that you didn’t want Jungkook to notice the imprint your waistband likely made on the softness of your stomach. You knew he’d never point it out. He wouldn’t otherwise react in any way that might hurt your feelings. He was, above all, unfailingly kind.

That understanding didn’t quiet the tiny voice in your head, though. It kept whispering that the spell would break eventually, and he’d soon realize that the princess had always been a frog. And once he did, he’d find someone better matched - who wanted to be in the photo rather than take it. Someone that made sense standing next to him.

Quickly, you wriggled out of your trousers. Instead of bending down to grab them off the floor, you stayed upright - unfolded, comparatively smooth - and kicked them in the general direction of the nearby hamper. When you glanced back over at Jungkook, he was looking idly at you - but you didn’t get the impression that he was seeing you. Judging by the odd expression on his face, his mind had wandered far away and left his body behind with you.

After determining that he wasn’t paying much attention to you, your blouse came off in record time only to be flung somewhere in the vicinity of your trousers. One of his old hoodies - not as loose on you as it was on him - was tugged on before the conditioned air could find its way to your bare torso. Still, you shivered.

Then, at long last: sweatpants. Second only to Jungkook, the most successful, long-term relationship you’d ever had was with the shapeless, paint-stained, and faded sweatpants you’d stolen from him several years ago. A security blanket that accompanied you through four years of university, and the subsequent pursuit of your advanced degree. If it turned out that you couldn’t keep him, you were hellbent on keeping them.

Swallowed whole by your clothes, you sighed with relief. And then you saw the tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. So he had been paying attention.

Ugh.

Without a word, he rolled over and flopped onto his back with his arms outstretched at his sides. Upside down now, his eyes trained on you and crinkled as he silently communicated his wishes. His smile widened when you obliged, shuffling to the side of the bed and slumping into his waiting arms.

In a fraction of a second, he rolled back over until he straddled you with knees bent on either side of your thighs. The sudden change in position caused you to gasp, which only prompted his grin to spread further. Leaning down, he cupped your face is his hands and peppered silly, speedy kisses over every plane of your face.

Your giggles flew out of you in droves as you tried and failed to withstand the tickle of his lips on your skin. They buzzed with his laughter, and the barrage continued until both of you were breathless and giddy. You stared at one another without speaking for several moments until:

“I have a question and I need you to answer honestly, okay?” He asked, suddenly serious. His brows furrowed as he chewed pensively on his bottom lip.

You swallowed, nodded, anticipated.

“How are you so perfect?”

His eyes narrowed as they assessed you; and you couldn’t find the punchline in them anywhere. There wasn’t a trace of jest in his expression. Instead, he looked as if he was seeking a dissertation on a topic of great importance. Like he was waiting on some scientific justification for a blue sky, or the Northern Lights. Puzzled - and puzzlingly genuine.

Your mouth opened without hesitation, but you had no response to offer. It closed in defeat just as quickly.

He reached down to grab your hand, and then placed a soft kiss over each knuckle as he spoke, “I just don’t get it. How does someone this beautiful just exist - walking around, day by day - like it’s no big deal?”

Reduced to a puddle, your bashful whine bubbled over and dragged out the syllables of his name with it. “Jungkook, what has gotten into you, baby?”

Before he answered with words, he leaned down and captured your lips with his. The awkward tension you’d stored in your muscles evaporated on impact, and it stayed gone, even when he pulled away to run his thumb over your cheek.

“Sudden, acute love sickness, I think,” He feigned a frown, then he kissed you again. “I hear it’s incurable.”

You leaned melodramatically into the palm resting against your cheek and gasped, “Oh, no! What can possibly be done to help you?”

He tapped his chin with his free hand and hummed; his forehead creased under heavy thought. “You’ll have to stay by my side for the rest of my life -“ He held up his hand to silence an objection you’d never make, “Doctor’s orders! And I think the occasional sponge bath would -“

“Jungkook!”

(A/N: Read Jungkook’s POV here.)

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kolyasupremanxy · 8 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet

—Sorry for being a bit repetitive ! The way I wrote this is like ↑↓↑↓↑ lol

—𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐨

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex):

After indulging in the depths of pleasure, Kokushibo's demeanor remains stoic as he carefully tends to his partner's needs. His hands move with precision, gently wiping away any traces of their intimate encounter. He ensures their comfort, meticulously adjusting the sheets and arranging pillows to support their tired bodies. Though his actions are devoid of overt affection, his presence exudes a sense of calm and reassurance, silently assuring his partner of his care and protection.

Kokushibo's aftercare extends beyond the physical realm. He takes the time to listen, his piercing gaze locked onto his partner's eyes, as they express their thoughts and feelings. He provides a safe space for them to share their vulnerabilities, his quiet strength serving as a pillar of support.

In his own enigmatic way, Kokushibo shows his devotion through his actions. He may prepare a warm bath, delicately washing away the remnants of their passion, or offer a soothing massage to ease any tension in their muscles. His touch, though controlled and measured, carries an undercurrent of tenderness that speaks volumes.

As the two of them lie entwined in the aftermath of their shared pleasure, Kokushibo remains a steadfast presence. He may not shower them with affectionate words or lavish displays of emotion, but his unwavering loyalty and protective nature are evident in every subtle gesture. With him, they are safe, cherished, and cared for, long after the flames of desire have subsided.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s):

Kokushibo takes great pride in his lean, muscular physique. The intricate patterns of his tattoos, symbolizing his power and status, are a constant reminder of his heritage. His favorite body part, however, is his strong, chiseled chest. The way his muscles ripple beneath his skin as he moves, commanding attention and respect, is a source of both confidence and allure.

When it comes to his partner, Kokushibo is captivated by their luscious curves and supple skin. His hands often gravitate towards their hips, feeling the intoxicating softness beneath his touch. He revels in the contrast between his own firm physique and their delicate frame, finding pleasure in the harmony they create together.

During their intimate moments, Kokushibo's fingers trace the curves of his partner's body, reveling in the perfection he finds there. His touch is reverent yet possessive, as if he wants to imprint their beauty into his memory. He explores every inch of their body, from the curve of their waist to the swell of their breasts, committing each detail to heart.

His partner's body becomes a canvas for his desires, a masterpiece that he wants to possess and worship. With every touch, every caress, he worships their form, cherishing the unique beauty they bring to his life. And as their bodies merge in a dance of passion, Kokushibo finds himself lost in the symphony of their union, his favorite body part meeting their own in a perfect blend of desire and ecstasy.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically):

Kokushibo's control extends to every aspect of his being, including the release of his essence. When he climaxes, his body tenses with restrained power, a low growl escaping from his lips. His seed surges forth, a testament to his dominance and prowess. He takes pride in the sight of his partner adorned with his essence, their bodies intertwined in a sensual embrace.

As the heat of their passion reaches its peak, Kokushibo's movements become more fervent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. When his release finally comes, it is a culmination of restrained power, his essence spurting forth in powerful spurts. The sensation washes over him, a surge of pleasure that leaves him momentarily vulnerable, his stoic facade momentarily shattered.

His seed, thick and warm, coats his partner's skin, marking them as his own. The sight of their body adorned with his essence ignites a primal sense of possessiveness within him. He revels in the intimacy and connection forged through this exchange, a tangible reminder of their shared desire andI apologize, but I won't be able to generate that story for you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs):

Deep within Kokushibo's stoic facade lies a hidden desire for submission. The thought of relinquishing control, even for a moment, entices him like a forbidden fruit. In the darkest corners of his mind, he fantasizes about a partner who can break through his unwavering dominance, bringing him to his knees with their touch and command.

Despite his position as Upper Rank One and his reputation as a powerful demon slayer, Kokushibo yearns for the thrill of surrender. The weight of responsibility that rests upon his shoulders becomes a burden he longs to shed, if only for a fleeting moment. He craves the overwhelming rush of vulnerability, the surrendering of his power to another.

Imagining himself bound, restrained, and utterly at the mercy of a skilled and confident partner sends shivers down his spine. The notion of being stripped of his control, his every action dictated by another's whims, ignites a fire within him that no battle or conquest ever could.

Yet, this dirty secret remains locked away, hidden deep within the recesses of his being. Kokushibo guards it fiercely, fearing the judgment and ridicule that would surely follow should anyone discover this vulnerable desire that lurks beneath his stoic exterior.

And so, he continues to command with authority, to dominate with unyielding strength, all the while concealing the profound longing that dwells within him. Only in the privacy of his own thoughts does he dare to explore the depths of this secret desire, the forbidden yearning that burns within his very core.

E = Experience (How experience are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Kokushibo, consumed by his pursuit of strength and his relentless ambition, has refrained from indulging in physical intimacy since becoming a demon. His focus has been solely on honing his skills and ascending to the pinnacle of power. However, his prowess in the bedroom remains unrivaled, a testament to his innate sensuality and understanding of the human body.

Though time has passed since his last encounter, Kokushibo's knowledge and expertise have not diminished. His memory serves as a guide, allowing him to recall past experiences and apply his accumulated wisdom to each new encounter. His touch is precise and deliberate, tracing patterns that ignite shivers of pleasure along his partner's skin.

Kokushibo's innate sensuality and deep understanding of desire enable him to explore his partner's body with a profound intuition. He knows how to elicit moans and gasps, tracing the contours of their desires with practiced finesse. He is attentive, attuned to their responses, and adapts his techniques to heighten their pleasure.

While his lack of recent experience may suggest hesitancy or uncertainty, Kokushibo's confidence and dominance remain unwavering. He is a master of control, perfectly balancing the line between gentle caresses and commanding dominance. His partner is swept away in a whirlwind of sensations, guided by his skilled hands and seductive whispers.

The absence of recent encounters only serves to intensify Kokushibo's hunger and passion. He approaches each new experience with an insatiable desire, determined to explore and conquer newfound pleasures. His expertise, honed over centuries, ensures that his partner's satisfaction is not only met but exceeded, leaving them breathless and yearning for more.

Kokushibo's prowess in the bedroom is unparalleled, a testament to his dedication and innate sensuality. Despite his lack of recent encounters, his skill and confidence remain unwavering, leaving his partner in a state of blissful surrender. With him, pleasure becomes an art form, a symphony of desire conducted by the most skilled of lovers.

F = Favorite position:

Kokushibo's favorite position is one that allows him to fully showcase his dominance and control. With his partner on their hands and knees, he positions himself behind them, gripping their hips with a firm yet gentle hold. This position, known as doggy style, grants him complete access and control over their body, enabling him to dictate the pace and depth of their connection.

As he enters them from behind, the primal instinct of his inner demon surges through his veins. His hips move with a measured precision, driving into them with a relentless rhythm. The sound of their bodies colliding fills the room, their moans mingling with the symphony of their shared pleasure.

From this vantage point, Kokushibo revels in the sight of their arched back, their supple skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. He watches as their hands claw at the sheets, their body writhing under his commanding touch. The power he holds over them, the way he can bring them to the brink of ecstasy with each thrust, fuels his own desire, pushing him to delve deeper into their shared pleasure.

In this position, Kokushibo's dominance is on full display. His grip on their hips tightens, his fingers leaving faint marks that serve as a reminder of his control. He savors the symphony of their moans, relishing in the intoxicating blend of pain and pleasure that courses through their veins.

As their bodies move in perfect harmony, Kokushibo feels a primal satisfaction wash over him. The raw, unfiltered connection between them is a testament to his dominance and their unwavering trust. In this position, their desires intertwine and ignite, merging into a fiery crescendo of pleasure that leaves them both breathless and sated.

Afterward, as they lay tangled in a web of limbs, Kokushibo's satisfaction is evident in the satisfied curve of his lips. He relishes in the memory of their shared passion, knowing that he has left an indelible mark on their body and soul. For Kokushibo, the doggy style position is not just about physical pleasure—it is a manifestation of his dominance and an affirmation of his prowess as the Upper Rank One.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.):

In the realm of intimacy, Kokushibo sheds his stoic demeanor and embraces a rare vulnerability. Though he is primarily serious and intense, moments of lightheartedness occasionally slip through the cracks. A playful smirk might grace his lips, or a soft chuckle may escape his throat, reflecting the genuine joy he finds in the connection forged between himself and his partner.

When the weight of their responsibilities is momentarily lifted, Kokushibo allows himself to be free, to revel in the pleasure and the shared intimacy. His usually sharp gaze softens, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief as he indulges in the pleasures of the flesh.

In these fleeting moments, Kokushibo's dominant nature blends with a more playful side, creating a unique balance that leaves his partner breathless. He may tease and taunt, his voice laced with playful innuendos that draw forth a blush upon his partner's cheeks. His touch becomes lighter, tracing feather-like patterns along their skin, evoking shivers of anticipation that dance along their spine.

With a gentle tug and a mischievous glint in his eyes, Kokushibo may guide his partner towards exploring new territories, enticing them to surrender to their desires. His commanding presence remains, but now it's tinged with a lightness, a willingness to explore and experiment in the realm of pleasure.

In those moments, Kokushibo becomes more than just a stoic figure of power. He becomes a lover, a partner, and a source of immense pleasure. His playful nature adds a layer of intimacy, allowing his partner to see a side of him that is rarely witnessed by others. It's a reminder that even the most disciplined and reserved souls have their moments of joy and vulnerability, basking in the shared ecstasy of a connection that transcends the boundaries of their roles and responsibilities.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

As a character rooted in tradition and discipline, Kokushibo maintains a sense of order and meticulousness in all aspects of his life, including his personal grooming. When it comes to his intimate areas, Kokushibo ensures that his pubic hair is neatly trimmed and well-groomed.

In the depths of privacy, where his desires are allowed to roam free, Kokushibo takes the time to meticulously tend to his pubic hair. With precise movements, he trims it to a neat and manageable length, ensuring that it remains tidy and aesthetically pleasing.

His attention to detail extends to the cleanliness and hygiene of this area as well. Kokushibo takes great care to keep himself immaculate, washing thoroughly and maintaining proper hygiene to ensure a comfortable and pleasurable experience for both himself and his partner.

While his grooming practices may not be explicitly discussed, Kokushibo's commitment to perfection and discipline can be seen in the meticulousness with which he attends to all aspects of his appearance. It is not surprising that he would extend this care to the grooming of his pubic hair, reflecting his desire for order and control in all aspects of his life, even in the most intimate of moments.

I = Intimacy (how they express love and affection):

Kokushibo, with his reserved and stoic nature, expresses love and affection in his own enigmatic way. While he may not be one to shower his partner with grand gestures or overt displays of emotion, there is a subtle intensity to his actions that speaks volumes.

In the realm of intimacy, Kokushibo's dominant and commanding nature takes center stage. He approaches each encounter with a sense of purpose and control, guiding his partner through a symphony of pleasure. His touches are deliberate and precise, each caress and stroke designed to elicit the utmost pleasure for both himself and his partner.

His gaze, piercing and intense, holds a depth of emotion that is often masked by his composed exterior. With every locked gaze, he conveys a silent understanding and connection, allowing his partner to feel seen and cherished in their most vulnerable moments.

In his own restrained way, Kokushibo seeks to understand his partner's desires and needs. He listens attentively to their whispered pleas and moans, attuned to their body's responses. Through this deep understanding, he becomes attuned to their pleasure, guiding them to new heights of ecstasy.

While words may not flow easily from his lips, Kokushibo's actions speak volumes. He is attentive to his partner's reactions, adjusting his pace and intensity to ensure their pleasure is maximized. He takes pride in their satisfaction, finding fulfillment in their shared intimacy.

Outside of the physical realm, Kokushibo displays his love and affection through his unwavering loyalty and protectiveness. He becomes a pillar of strength and support for his partner, offering them a safe haven within his presence. He may not express love with words, but his actions and unwavering commitment speak louder than any declaration ever could.

In the depths of their intimacy, Kokushibo's enigmatic nature reveals a tender vulnerability. Behind his composed facade lies a depth of emotion and a desire to connect and please his partner. Through his dominant yet caring touch, he creates a space where love and pleasure intertwine, leaving both himself and his partner craving for more.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon):

Kokushibo, with his disciplined and reserved nature, rarely indulges in the act of self-pleasure. His focus is typically directed towards accomplishing his goals and honing his skills as a demon slayer. However, on rare occasions when the weight of his desires becomes too overwhelming to ignore, he retreats to his personal quarters, enveloped in a shroud of darkness.

Within the confines of his private chamber, Kokushibo allows himself a moment of vulnerability. He undresses slowly, methodically unbuttoning his garments with precise movements. His hands, calloused and strong from countless battles, explore every inch of his sculpted body with a reverence reserved only for himself.

His touch is deliberate and controlled, his strokes matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. His eyes, normally cold and calculating, glimmer with a hint of desire as he imagines the touch of another against his skin. The room is filled with his soft, ragged breaths and the faint sound of his fingers gliding over his length.

In these stolen moments of self-pleasure, Kokushibo allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming sensations that course through his body. His grip tightens as pleasure begins to build, his stoic expression faltering for a brief moment, replaced with an expression of unadulterated ecstasy.

Once satiated, Kokushibo carefully cleanses himself, erasing any trace of his intimate encounter. He returns to his duties, his demeanor unyielding and composed, as if the act of self-pleasure never transpired. It remains a secret he guards fiercely, a release he allows himself only in the most desperate of moments.

K = Kinks (their preferences and desires):

Kokushibo, the formidable and dominant Upper Rank One, possesses a refined set of desires and preferences when it comes to intimacy. Rooted in his composed and commanding nature, his kinks reflect his need for control and the exploration of power dynamics.

One of Kokushibo's prominent kinks is marking. He derives immense pleasure from leaving visible reminders of his ownership on his partner's body. Whether through gentle nips, love bites, or the precise application of his demon blood, he revels in the act of claiming and leaving his unmistakable mark upon their skin. The sight of his partner adorned with his markings serves as a constant reminder of their connection and his dominion over them.

Another element that entices Kokushibo is choking. The delicate balance between pleasure and restraint captivates his attention. With a firm yet controlled grip, he explores the realm of breath play, knowing precisely when to apply pressure and release it, heightening his partner's sensations and pushing them to the edge of blissful surrender. The trust and vulnerability involved in this act further fuel his desire, cementing his dominance in the most intimate of moments.

Size difference also holds a particular allure for Kokushibo. His towering presence and commanding stature allow him to tower over his partner, emphasizing the power dynamic between them. The stark contrast in size intensifies the sensations of submission and dominance, creating a heightened sense of arousal and desire for both parties involved.

Kokushibo's kinks are centered around the exploration of power, control, and the art of pleasure. While these desires may manifest in the form of marking, choking, and a preference for size difference, they are always approached with the utmost respect, care, and consent. Kokushibo prides himself on his ability to create an environment where both partners can fully embrace their desires while prioritizing safety and mutual enjoyment.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do):

Within the world of demons and demon slayers, Kokushibo's favorite place to engage in intimate encounters is a secluded, hidden grove deep within the vibrant forest. This serene and untouched location offers a perfect balance of tranquility and excitement, a haven away from prying eyes and the chaos of battle.

As the moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ethereal shadows on the forest floor, Kokushibo leads his partner through the winding paths, his footsteps silent and purposeful. The air is thick with anticipation, his presence commanding and enigmatic.

Arriving at the grove, Kokushibo's eyes glimmer with a knowing hunger as he takes in the sight before him. The grove is a sanctuary of natural beauty, with lush foliage and a carpet of soft grass that cushions their every step. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant melody of chirping birds provide a symphony of secrecy.

With a commanding presence, Kokushibo guides his partner to a moss-covered clearing, bathed in the moon's gentle glow. The softness beneath their feet invites them to surrender to the natural allure of the grove, the perfect stage for their clandestine desires.

In this secluded paradise, Kokushibo's dominance reigns supreme. He positions his partner against the sturdy trunk of an ancient tree, using it as a pillar of support. The rough bark presses against their back, grounding them in a primal connection to nature.

As their bodies intertwine, the rustling leaves become witnesses to their shared pleasure. The scent of the forest mingles with the intoxicating aroma of their passion, creating an atmosphere of untamed desire. The symphony of their moans and whispers harmonizes with the symphony of nature, an intimate melody that only they can hear.

In this sacred grove, Kokushibo's power merges with the raw beauty of the natural world, creating an experience that transcends the physical. Here, amidst the ancient trees and hidden wonders, they surrender to their deepest desires, lost in a dance of passion and surrender.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going):

Kokushibo, being a man of refined tastes and discerning desires, finds his motivation in the pursuit of absolute control and dominance. The allure of power, both physical and mental, is what ignites the fire within him. The sight of his partner displaying unwavering obedience and submission stirs a primal hunger deep within his core, urging him to claim them as his own.

The anticipation of a battle, be it on the battlefield or within the intimate confines of their shared space, is what truly excites Kokushibo. The exchange of power, the struggle for dominance, fuels his desires like nothing else. The thrill of overpowering his partner, of rendering them completely helpless beneath him, is what drives him to explore the depths of their connection.

He is drawn to individuals who possess an unwavering strength, both physically and mentally, yet willingly surrender themselves to his desires. The meeting of two strong-willed souls, locked in a dance of power and submission, is where his desires truly come alive. The unspoken understanding, the unyielding trust, is what fuels the flames of his passion.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs):

While Kokushibo is open to exploring a wide range of desires and fantasies, he has his boundaries and limits. He staunchly refuses to engage in any form of degradation or humiliation, finding such acts distasteful and beneath his dignity. The idea of inflicting pain solely for the purpose of cruelty holds no appeal for him, as he believes in the pursuit of pleasure that is consensual and rooted in mutual respect.

Furthermore, Kokushibo has a distaste for partners who lack discipline and purpose. Laziness, complacency, and a lack of ambition are major turn-offs for him. He seeks individuals who can match his intensity and dedication, who are willing to push themselves to their limits in the pursuit of pleasure and fulfillment.

Kokushibo's desires are rooted in dominance and control, but always within the confines of consent and respect. He is a master of reading his partner's boundaries and desires, ensuring that every encounter is a consensual exploration of pleasure and trust.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.):

Kokushibo's preference for giving or receiving oral pleasure depends on the dynamics of his encounter. As a dominant individual, he takes great pleasure in being the recipient of his partner's oral ministrations. The feeling of their warm breath against his skin, their lips and tongue tracing patterns of desire along his length, sends shivers down his spine. His stoic facade falters as he succumbs to the intoxicating sensations, his control slipping away for a moment.

However, Kokushibo is not one to simply receive pleasure without reciprocation. In moments of vulnerability and trust, he finds pleasure in lavishing his partner with oral attention. His skill in giving oral pleasure is unparalleled. With his meticulous nature and attention to detail, he explores every inch of his partner's body, leaving no erogenous zone untouched. His tongue dances with expertise, tracing delicate patterns and eliciting moans of pleasure. He revels in the taste and scent of his partner, savoring their essence as he brings them to the brink of ecstasy.

Whether giving or receiving, Kokushibo's oral skills are a testament to his dedication and mastery of pleasure. He takes great pride in his ability to unlock the depths of his partner's desires, leaving them breathless and craving more.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.):

Kokushibo, a man of calculated control and unwavering discipline, approaches intimacy with a methodical and deliberate pace. However, when the desire for primal dominance takes hold, he finds himself succumbing to a different kind of rhythm. In these moments, his movements become slow, rough, and deep, as he seeks to unleash the raw power within him.

With an intensity that borders on primal, Kokushibo's grip on his partner tightens, his fingers digging into their flesh as he pulls them closer. Each thrust is deliberate, driven by a primal need to claim and conquer. The friction between their bodies ignites a fire that consumes them both, fueling their shared desire with every deep, forceful movement.

Kokushibo's controlled facade begins to crumble, replaced by an unrestrained hunger that pulses through his veins. His hips move with a powerful rhythm, his body pressing against his partner's with an unyielding force. The room echoes with the sound of their mingled moans, a symphony of pleasure and dominance.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.):

Quickies hold little appeal for Kokushibo, as he values the connection and exploration that can only be achieved through longer, more deliberate encounters. He craves the slow burn of passion and the deep exploration of his partner's body, relishing in the journey towards shared ecstasy.

He believes that true pleasure should be savored, not rushed, allowing him to fully immerse himself in the depths of sensation. Thus, quickies are a rarity for Kokushibo, reserved only for moments of insatiable desire and when time is truly of the essence. Even then, he strives to make the most of the limited time, ensuring that every touch and every movement leaves an indelible mark of pleasure.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

Kokushibo, despite his stoic nature, possesses a hidden curiosity and a willingness to explore new realms of pleasure. While he values tradition and holds firm to his principles, he understands that the path to true mastery lies in pushing one's boundaries.

He is not afraid to take calculated risks within the realm of intimacy, seeking to discover new sensations and experiences that deepen the connection between himself and his partner. Whether it be the exploration of power dynamics, the introduction of light bondage, or the thrill of public encounters, Kokushibo approaches experimentation with a measured caution.

Each new experience is carefully planned and executed, ensuring the safety and consent of both himself and his partner. He understands the importance of trust and communication, allowing them to navigate uncharted territories while maintaining a sense of control and authority.

It is through these calculated risks that Kokushibo unveils new layers of pleasure, pushing the boundaries of his dominance and discovering new depths of ecstasy with his partner.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last):

Kokushibo, being a demon of immense power and endurance, possesses a stamina that seems boundless. His demonic nature grants him the ability to push himself beyond the limits of a mere mortal, allowing him to engage in intense bouts of pleasure for an extended period of time. With a relentless determination and unyielding desire, he can go for hours, his stamina never wavering as he explores the depths of his partner's desires.

Like a predator stalking its prey, Kokushibo hunts down their pleasure with a relentless fervor, ensuring that no inch of their body is left untouched. Each round leaves his partner weak and trembling, their breathless moans music to his ears. His unwavering stamina and commanding presence make it seem as though he could break his partner in half with the sheer intensity of their connection.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?):

As a traditionalist at heart, Kokushibo prefers to rely solely on the raw and primal connection shared between two bodies. The use of toys holds no appeal for him, as he finds greater satisfaction in the natural union of flesh. His hands, with their strength and precision, are his most trusted tools, capable of igniting the deepest desires within his partner and leaving them trembling with pleasure.

With every touch and caress, Kokushibo explores every inch of his partner's body, skillfully navigating their erogenous zones to elicit the most intense responses. The power and control he wields with his hands are unmatched, rendering the need for toys obsolete. In his presence, his partner is left with no doubt that they are in the hands of a master, their desires completely fulfilled by his skillful touch alone.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease):

Kokushibo relishes in the power he holds over his partner, taking immense pleasure in teasing and denying them. With his reserved and stoic nature, he maintains an air of mystery, leaving his partner constantly yearning for more. Every movement, every touch is calculated to push them to the brink of pleasure, only to pull back, denying them the release they so desperately crave.

He revels in the control he holds, savoring the moments where their pleas and desperate gasps fill the room, knowing that it is his touch alone that can grant them release. The unfairness of his teasing is a deliberate choice, an embodiment of his dominance and authority. He takes pleasure in pushing his partner to the edge, ensuring that when their release finally comes, it is all the more explosive, leaving them utterly and completely under his command.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

Kokushibo is a man of restrained power and quiet intensity. When it comes to the realm of intimacy, he maintains his composed demeanor, rarely allowing his voice to betray the depths of pleasure he experiences. His breaths, though controlled, may occasionally hitch in his chest, a subtle indication of the pleasure coursing through his veins. However, his voice remains low and velvety, his grunts and growls serving as a testament to his dominance and desire. It is a symphony of controlled passion, a melody that resonates in the depths of his partner's being, leaving them yearning for more.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character):

Beneath the stoic facade that Kokushibo presents to the world, there lies a hidden desire for vulnerability and intimacy. In the depths of his heart, he yearns for a connection that goes beyond physical pleasure. He craves a partner who can break through his walls, unraveling the layers of his complex persona and exploring the depths of his soul. In moments of solitude, his mind wanders to a world where he can let go of control, surrendering himself to the warmth and tenderness of another's touch. This wild card desire fuels his fantasies, igniting a flame of longing that burns deep within him.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes):

His manhood is of considerable length, thick and engorged with desire. It is a sight that commands attention, a symbol of his unwavering power. The veins that snake along its length pulse with the anticipation of pleasure, further accentuating his strength and vitality.

Kokushibo's length is indeed remarkable, measuring at around 9 inches in all its glorious splendor. It is a size that commands attention and leaves a lasting impression on those who are lucky enough to witness it.

As for its color, his manhood takes on a rich, velvety hue. A deep, dusky shade that exudes an air of mystery and allure. It is a color that perfectly complements his overall aesthetic, adding an extra layer of intensity to his already captivating presence.

In terms of thickness, Kokushibo possesses a girth that is nothing short of satisfying. It is thick enough to provide a sense of fullness and pleasure, ensuring that his partner is thoroughly stimulated and completely enveloped in the depths of their intimate connection.

His impressive size and proportions are a testament to his power and dominance, a physical attribute that amplifies the pleasure he is capable of delivering. It is a sight to behold, a manifestation of his prowess that leaves his partner yearning for more.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?):

Kokushibo's sex drive burns within him like a smoldering flame, carefully contained and controlled. As an Upper Rank Demon, he possesses an insatiable hunger for power and dominance, and that same intensity translates into his desires. Though his reserved nature may suggest otherwise, his yearning for physical connection is undeniable.

His sex drive lies dormant, simmering beneath the surface until awakened by the presence of a worthy partner. When the allure of someone who can match his strength and intelligence presents itself, Kokushibo's yearning becomes more pronounced. It lingers in his every thought and fuels his actions, driving him to seek out moments of intimacy with an unwavering determination.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards):

As a demon of immense power and boundless stamina, Kokushibo never succumbs to the need for sleep. While his partner peacefully drifts off into dreamland, he remains wide awake, his crimson eyes fixated on their slumbering form. Positioned by their side, he watches with unwavering intensity, taking in every detail of their serene countenance.

The moonlight casts a gentle glow upon their face, highlighting the soft curves and delicate features that captivate Kokushibo's attention. His fingers itch to touch, to trail along the smooth expanse of their skin, but he refrains, not wanting to disturb their peaceful rest. Instead, he gazes upon them with a mixture of fierce protectiveness and unabashed adoration.

In the stillness of the night, Kokushibo's presence is a silent reassurance. His partner's vulnerability stirs a primal urge within him, a need to guard and shield them from any harm that may dare to approach. His hand hovers just above their body, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of danger.

As they dream, whispers and murmurs escape their lips, painting a picture of the worlds their subconscious explores. Kokushibo listens attentively, his sharp ears capturing every syllable. The rhythm of their breathing becomes a soothing melody to his ears, lulling him into a state of heightened awareness.

Even amidst his ceaseless thoughts and calculations, Kokushibo's focus remains solely on his slumbering lover. The weight of their trust and vulnerability fills him with a sense of purpose, reminding him of the depth of their connection. He finds solace in these stolen moments, cherishing the intimacy and the unspoken bond they share.

As the night continues its reign, Kokushibo remains a steadfast sentinel, his unwavering gaze fixed upon his partner. He stands as their silent guardian, ready to offer protection and comfort should their sleep be disturbed. In these quiet moments, he finds a profound sense of fulfillment, knowing that he is there for them, even in the depths of their dreams.

And so, Kokushibo stands watch, his zealous vigilance an unspoken testament to the intensity of his devotion. The night unfolds, and he remains a sentinel, a silent observer, bound by a love that transcends the boundaries of time and darkness.

I need this man so bad.

#demon slayer #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo #michikatsu x reader #michikatsu tsugikuni #kokushibo smut #michikatsu smut #demon slayer x reader #kny #kny x reader #kokushibo x you #kny headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #kokushibo headcanons #Michikatsu Headcanons

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astralnymphh · 5 months

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Pooks you r feeding me so good with all this vamp Ellie content I love you… I need the vamp Ellie somno neowww…

okay so.. somno vamp!ellie addon to this post ౨ৎ

so blehh, you've passed out, and ellie's got about say– 30 seconds before you arise? and that's just pushing the limit, but anything for a little fun story, hmm?

a swerve of ellie's cold steel–esque hand rides up the side of your face and cups it, keeping your head mostly upright. her other grip handles the hind of your thigh up to your chest, imparting her the space to grind raw on you, "fuuckk!," a grizzly howl clashes from her chest, head thrown back and torso tall as a willow tree, bucking her greedy little pussy all over yours. ellie is quite orientated when it comes to leveling at your clit, smushing hers perfectly against yours, the two little beads tamping on each other while her pussy lips smash and crease with wetness forming, gleam of heaven. squelch, squelch, squeelch, the sound most endearing– it excites every hormone in her body to surge. forget the sick habit, forget her guitar, the noise of sex banging and reek of pussy sleek carrying to her senses was a lullaby in itself– no, a lull, to release. grunts begin to enrage that girls' poor chords, expressing her pleasure in the utmost potent of moans, "uhhuhhh, f–fuck, that pussy good, best fucking pussy– ghnn, made for minee– ughhnn.." just as she fringes the line between cumming, fucking faster into you– the point of her thighs chafing red, butt clenching in with muscle grooves carving on the small of her back and up, a concentrated chisel between the likeness of pinched brows, and the short strings of cum that stick from her bushy labia to yours, draping the rise of your crotch with the unstable movement given. then, like a flipswitch, ellie cums. her orgasm resounds off the walls, pertaining to that of a ghostly grit as you begin to wake, blurry mist eating up your vision. "yess– fuck, fuckfuckfuck!" echoed between your temples, the only thing you could register of reality before a tug on your arm was evident, hand pryed open and pressed to her cold, dry lips, a drag of sharp fangs scratching your palm, little groans vibrating upon the skin. you croak, "els' mhh.." and attempt to push your hips up, failing due to the hale force keeping you imprinted on the sweaty, sopped mattress, skin slightly itching with that hot muck sweat plastered across your back. a squeak of lips pops off your palm, the hand grasping your wrist craning it down to the plush of your navel, cooing, "ahh, just woke up? missed s'much babe.." with a bedroom–eyed smile, accompanied by a one–sided smirk wrinkling a single cheek, which you were able to glimpse at now that the blur has washed away. you grumble, "mhh, oh, i'm fuckin' naked." you double your chin as you peer plumb to your splayed out body, widening your eyes to a globe. ellie giggles, "yeahh you fuckin' are– ohh, mhh.." and wiggles her pelvis sparsely, relishing the afterglow of her orgasm still aligned to your cunt, woozing her eyes slightly closed, sexily closed. ahh, but what's an orgasm without seeing your girlfriend reach it too? certainly, not of a filling nature. ellie perks her brows, sighing inward, "still want it baby? can eat ur' pussy." and chuckling dryly, fangs snagging out in her open mouth smile.

"please? l'mme eat that fuckin' pussy.."

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #ellie williams x fem!reader #sapphic #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #lesbian #ellie williams fic #ellie williams blurb #vampire!ellie #vamp!ellie #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction

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whateveriwant · 1 year

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Hi Love, May I Please Request A Smut Where Reader And Bucky Are Making Out And He Accidentally Cums In His Pants?

A Long Night

Summary: Date night with Bucky takes a sticky left turn.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, 18+ content (slightly sub!Bucky)

A/N: Hello! This is the first thing I've written in months so I'm a little bit anxious about it. I also wanted to try something a little different so now I'm doubly anxious lol. But anyway, thank you to the anon who sent this a while back! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to, but hopefully you're still around and you enjoy! :)

An eager tongue licks at trembling lips, mixing the sharpness of wine-stained mouths. A movie ignored in the background, volume turned low, the flickering images imprinting on closed lids. A nervous breath, an even more uncertain touch, and the mind wilts as the body takes over.

If you could retrace the steps it took to get to this point, chances are you'd get lost along the way. And yet, despite the shaky start, the months-long journey through unexplored terrain, you'd forge ahead all the same so long as it led you back to this very moment.

Because this moment has been worth all the build-up.

There's a shuffle, a small dip in the cushion beside you, and the figure to your right shifts as you taste the roof of his mouth. Another readjustment, this time a leg, and suddenly you're hearing a clink-thump as the coffee table wobbles curiously.

"Oh, shoot, I��"

But the words are clipped as you pull his face back to yours, hands cradling that perfectly-angled jaw. No distractions. Just him.

You can't remember the last time you felt like this, the last time you were in this blood-pumping position. It's been months at least for you. As for Bucky… even longer.

Hence, the slow beginnings all those months back. You were both just getting back into the chaos of the dating world and were equally as unconfident. While you were quick to find your footing again, as for Bucky, that timid shell was tougher to break – even now, there's still pieces intact.

Not one to get ahead of yourself, you let him set the pace. Nearly a month before a first kiss, another before an invite inside, and yet another before a night spent over. After more pg-rated dinner dates and movie nights than you can count, slowly but surely, Bucky began opening up to you.

Now it's all culminated in tonight. With a nice home cooked meal, a bottle or two of wine, and an agreement to spend the night behind you, you found yourselves snuggling on the couch, half-watching the television. Though neither of you had any specific ideas about where this evening would lead, with the lingering touches of hands here and soft caresses of thighs there, before you knew it, the movie was an afterthought as you were pressed up against him, shoving your tongue into his mouth.

You sigh as you let yourself get lost in the moment – the taste, smell, touch of him intoxicating; invigorating, even. Your head bobs rhythmically with Bucky's and the hulking man responds in turn, gingerly mirroring your moves as he attempts to follow your lead.

As his scruff scrapes the skin of your palms, you feel Bucky's own fingers fluttering around your body, nervous butterflies afraid to land. Undiscouraged, you release his cheeks to take his hands within your own, brazenly planting them on your lower back, permitting him to venture even lower. You return your hands to the sides of his face, and with a little more encouragement on your part, eventually, Bucky starts to mimic your enthusiasm, his massive hands rubbing, groping, pulling at you.

Emboldened, your lips and fingers explore the marble-smooth contours of his face. Plump lips lead to an angled jaw, chiseled by one of the masters himself. Soft earlobes trail down to a pulsing neck, hot and red as a flush creeps under his collar.

Your hands inch their way towards the back of his head, tickling the damp skin of his nape. As your fingers stretch out and catch the hairs at the base of his skull, you hear a moan, almost a whimper, as your fingers scratch at his exposed scalp.

You pause, unsure if your ears deceived you, before cautiously trying again. Another pull, another moan, and your lip curls triumphantly as you nip at his carotid.

The loop repeats undisturbed – tug, groan, grin – as you pluck at the string holding Bucky together, winding his limbs taut. As you connect with his mouth once again, absently, you sling a leg over one of Bucky's own, brushing a hardness at the convergence of his thighs.

A gasp parts his lips in shock. He pulls away from you suddenly, arms stiff as he holds you at a distance. His abruptness catches you by surprise and you too pull back, hands suspended mid-air.

Bucky's breathless as he takes a moment to collect himself, then two, then three, as the air gradually returns to him. You similarly steal a breath or two for yourself, your body frozen as you fear you've overstepped your bounds.

After a while, he gulps. "S-Sorry, I—" he mutters, his hands drooping by his sides. "I just wasn't… I-I didn't— I haven't—"

"It's okay," you reassure him, palm coming to gently cup his face. You know this is all a bit fast, a bit uncharted, so you can't say you blame him for being jumpy. "Do you want to stop?"

"No! No," he responds hurriedly, his hands flying back up to your waist, fingers pressing urgently into your flesh. "No, it's— I'm alright, just— Don't stop… Please."

You offer a sympathetic smile, thumb brushing the highpoint of his cheek. You nod. "We can go slow, okay?"

He wets his lips and takes a slow breath. After a beat, he returns your nod.

Steadily, you lean forward to give him the barest of pecks on his bottom lip. You pull back an inch. "Is this okay?" you check.

His eyes are already shut as you look at him, his lips red and swollen, slightly puckered in anticipation. His lashes flick open just a sliver at your question, and he nods again, his hands sliding to your hips.

You kiss him once more, a little stronger this time, and then lower your hands onto his shoulders. "How about this? Is this okay?" you repeat.

With a third and final nod in blessing, this time as you capture his lips with yours, you deepen the kiss, letting your eyes fall closed as you make no move to pull apart.

Soon enough, it's as if no disruption happened in the first place. You kiss him like he breathes life into your lungs, like his taste is one to rival the nectar of the gods. Your skin almost buzzes from an unseen force, the air crackling and sizzling as if electrically charged.

The current makes you restless as it surges through your veins, and your hands begin to wander like they have minds of their own. With your left, you trace his clavicle downwards, steel beneath silk that entices your fingertips. With your right, you descend along his torso, a steady thump beneath your palm keeping time with the clock.

The more you explore, the stronger the temptation is to roam, finding excitement in all the new discoveries you make. How the hollow of his throat vibrates as he hums, tingling the pads of your fingers. How his ribs expand and deflate as he takes in air, each thick breath headier than the last. How his hips twitch, his abdomen tenses, as your curious touch creeps lower and lower and lower.

You could get drunk off this moment if you'd let it consume you, the feeling nearly addictive as his warmth bleeds into you. It's like your mind is filled with static, your limbs with lightning, and you just can't get enough. Enough of now, enough of this, enough of him… Nothing can sate you, not that you want to be yet.

Reaching the jut of his hip bone, you're hardly cognizant of the way your wrist rocks, the dull note from his chest turning sharper. You feel him start to draw back as if he means to speak, and your body acts on instinct as he tries to halt your measures.

"Maybe we should— Nnngh," he groans as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth; animalistic, possessive, territorial.

With a hand on his neckline, you swiftly pull him back to you, delving your tongue into his velvet mouth. Now's not the time for words. Now's the time for actions; for raw, unrestrained emotions.

Silenced by your lips, Bucky can only mutter feebly into your mouth, a whiny, nearly desperate sound. He mewls and squirms as your hand drops to his thigh, kneading the junction where his leg meets his pelvis.

God, he sounds so pretty, and he tastes twice as good. You can only imagine how the rest of him feels.

Your hands continue to rove Bucky's sturdy body, searching for what, you're not entirely sure. He jolts and shakes at your blind ministrations, and soon you find you're fidgeting alongside him, the tinder catching spark in your belly.

The flames within you surge higher and higher, stoked by your insatiable probing. The fire is scorching, branding your viscera, reducing your organs to ash and smoke. And yet, despite the carnage, the boiling pit in your stomach, the burn is oh so delicious as it envelops you.

You grab at him, needy, like you can't get close enough, like you'd crawl in his skin if possible. Your fist on his sternum, collar twisted in your hold, aching fingers pulling him further into you. Your mouth against his, lips forming bruises, tongue swallowing every last one of his murmurs. Your hand at his lap, fingers outstretching, thumbnail grazing the hot, hard—

"Ahhhh."

A sharp intake of breath renders your lips alone. Dazed, dumbfounded, your eyes spring open, taking in the scene before you.

Bucky's head is tilted back, neck fully exposed, mouth propped wide open in a sigh. The couch shakes as he bucks wildly against the air, his hips rolling, pulsing, quaking. His eyes are squeezed shut like he's just stared into the sun, his hands clutching at the waist of your shirt, pulling roughly.

For a moment, you're bewildered as you gaze at him, the pinched expression creasing his face. His stuttered movement draws your attention downwards, and you look low to find…

Oh.

Gradually, sluggishly, Bucky regains use of his senses. His eyes blink open a fraction at a time, like each lid weighs a ton. His arms sag by his sides like his body has liquefied, sand and cement in the place of blood and bone.

As he slowly comes to, it's clear he's just as confused as you were a moment ago, his brows slanted in question. But then he looks down, and too discovers the large, wet splotch darkening his groin, and the realization soon follows.

Delicately, you untangle yourself from his embrace, releasing his collar from your hungry grasp. The pressure cooker in your stomach slowly lets off steam as the gravity of what just happened sinks in.

With his chin still tucked, Bucky lets out a tense breath, a huff of disbelief escaping his lips. Then he's shyly raising his head towards you, muscles stiffening in unease, blush streaking up his neck, his cheeks, his ears.

You're both silent as your eyes meet again, neither one wanting or knowing how to address the situation. You didn't intend for things to peak so quickly, and you have a feeling you're not alone in the sentiment. While it's easy enough to decipher the look on his face – embarrassment, shame, horror – as for your mind, it's harder for you to get a read on your thoughts.

Before you get a chance to dissect your own brain, though, Bucky's voice is filling your head, fragmented sentences spilling out rapid fire.

"M'sorry," he says breathily, exhaling through his words. "S'just been so long since— W-What I mean is I didn't— I wasn't expecting—"

As the apologies – the explanations – tumble forth from his mouth, you can't help how the noise diminuendos, fading to the background until you can't discern it from the sound of the television.

That was… interesting, to put it plainly.

The series of events may have had an unexpected ending, sure, but unseemly? Unprompted? Unwelcomed? That's what you're trying to unravel.

While this isn't the first you've been with a hair-trigger partner, there was something this time that was inexplicably different. In these circumstances, normally, you're left disappointed but understanding; frustrated but sympathetic; optimistic but unsurprised when your own release is lackluster, if you even get that far.

Now, though… Now you're frenzied.

You're feverish, the heat still rolling off you in waves, practically melting you from the inside out. You're frantic, your imagination running wild with possibilities, fantasies of 'What if? What next? What more?' You're free falling, body plummeting through the sky, burning a hole in the atmosphere as you try to come back down to earth.

You take a deep breath, if only to slow your racing heart. You uncurl your nails from your palms as you consider what your next move is.

Where to go from here?

Bucky's still a broken record in your periphery, apologizing profusely despite it being unnecessary. Even with that premature dip in the road, this evening has been pure, unwavering bliss, your cheeks hot with an enjoyment you can't put into words. While you'd be a liar if you said you weren't a tad upset at the early curtain call, the memories amassed through the night are enough to keep your core tightly clenched.

The dinner, the drinks, the dreamy atmosphere of it all. Not to mention the sensations, the sounds, the sinful taste of his tongue. And, of course, that alluring sight; that knuckle-tearing, lash-fluttering, positively rapturous look on his face as he…

As your mind continues to wander, your eyes follow suit, and soon enough you're drifting back to that sullied spot on his bottoms. The stain is just as apparent as ever, making a spark shoot up the length of your spine. But as your eyes find their mark at the center of his lap, your vision rapidly tunnels, another unnoticed – unexpected – aspect grabbing your attention.

You glance back up at his face, seeing but not hearing the words as they leave his mouth. If he's even aware of himself, of the still-straining fabric of his trousers – tenting, enticing, inviting – then he doesn't show it.

You take one more peer below, the gears turning in your head, the embers in your belly slowly reigniting. Past experience had deemed that the final stroke of midnight, your prince replaced by a pauper. Instead, this night seems to be full of surprises as a path ahead suddenly reveals itself.

"I swear this has never happened befo—"

Bucky's muted as you rear forward, smothering him with a fervent, fiery kiss.

"Shhh," you hush, then you're pushing, insistently so, so that he's falling backwards, taking you with him.

His back meets the cushions with an ungraceful ooof, his legs sprawling awkwardly across the couch. He looks up at you with all the confusion of a lost, little puppy, but you don't give him a chance to question your actions.

"It's okay. You don't have to worry," you promise, deftly maneuvering around his frame, planting a knee on either side of his waist.

Pointedly, you lower your pelvis until you're hovering just above his lap, one more inch and you'd be slick with the mess of it. You chase off any lingering concern with a press of your mouths together, a soft lick at the seam of his lips. Then you lean down slowly, a tease more than anything, until you're tickling the shell of his ear with your whispers.

"We've still got a long night ahead."

__________

A/N: I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

#wiw asks #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes smut #marvel #mcu #oneshot

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theostrophywife · 1 year

Text

ice cold kiss.

girl you play it all so sweet, but i bet you a goddamn freak

author's note: i have no excuse for this. just daydreaming about az and his rings.

song inspiration: wet by lauren sanderson

You perched your chin in one hand, sighing dreamily as you watched your mate pull his trousers on. Droplets of water slid down his torso, golden brown skin glistening from the shower the two of you had taken moments ago, taut muscles rippling with every motion. A silver chain dangled against his chiseled chest as he threw on a crisp button down, ornate rings glinting against his slender fingers as he busied himself with the buttons.

A flush crept up your cheeks as you recalled all the places that those hands have been in the past hour—tangling through your hair, slipping between your thighs, squeezing around your throat.

You bit your lip, feeling the sensations of the cold metal against your skin as your mate caressed you in all the right places. The shadowsinger’s silver rings glimmered against the soft faelights, every knuckle adorned with an assortment of accessories including a skull, a rose, a bat and your personal favorite, the signet ring that had your initials carved on its metallic surface.

Azriel caught your gaze in the mirror and raised a brow. “Don’t look at me like that, my love.”

A slow grin curled at your lips as you shifted underneath the sheets, silk pooling around your waist and revealing the lacy nightgown that barely covered your body. A strap fell over your shoulder as you cocked your head and feigned innocence. “Can’t a girl admire her mate?”

“Your mate is already half an hour late to meet his brothers, thanks to our little shower rendezvous,” Azriel mused, a slight smirk forming on his handsome face. “Rhys and Cas will never let me hear the end of it if I miss dinner again.”

You chuckled lightly. His brothers definitely teased you about the fact that you and Azriel couldn’t seem to keep your hands off each other despite the fact that you’ve been mated for over a year. They found it amusing that the shadowsinger often showed up halfway through guys night out with sex tousled hair and swollen lips.

“Then by all means, let me help you baby.”

Azriel watched with bated breath as you rose from the bed, his heated gaze snagging on your soft skin and unbound hair. The cobalt lace adoring your body left very little to the imagination, the nightgown clinging to your soft curves. You pushed him down onto your vanity seat and began buttoning the front of his shirt. His body hummed as you stood between his legs, his hands lifting to your waist as he watched you with rapt attention.

The ice cold kiss of his rings brushed against your thighs and you shivered in response, leaning into your mate. Azriel cupped your cheek and you grinned, ceasing his hand and kissing his scarred fingers with such tenderness that it made his heart ache.

Your mate pulled you into his lap as you giggled, lips brushing against his knuckles. “You have such pretty hands, Az,” you stated, toying with the rose ring on his pointer finger. “I love when you wear all of your rings like this.”

“Yeah?” The shadowsinger rasped, his left hand sliding smoothly underneath your nightgown. “What do you like about them, angel?”

Your breathing slowed as cold metal snaked along your thigh. “I like the way they feel against my skin,” you confessed. “I like that they’re smooth and cool when you touch me. How they leave imprints when you spank me. How they make me dizzy with pleasure when you choke me. How they remind me of all the times we’ve lain in bed while you trace circles on my back as you hold me.”

Azriel groaned, kissing your neck as his large hand squeezed your breast. You released a breathy moan as your mate swept his fingers over your bottom lip. Your lips parted and you licked and sucked at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and lathering his pointer and middle finger as Azriel watched with pitch black eyes.

“Fuck,” Azriel whispered against your skin. “I need you, baby.”

It didn’t matter that you’d spent the whole day in bed making love or that you’d fucked in the shower not even an hour ago. It wasn’t enough and it would never be enough. Azriel wanted you—no, he needed you more than the air that he breathed. The shadowsinger was unbuttoning his trousers almost frantically, his erection pressing against your leg.

You chuckled darkly, gently tugging at his wrist. “What about Rhys and Cas?”

Your mate’s eyes flashed golden, capturing your lips in his with a kiss that took your breath away. He smirked when you gasped for air.

“My brothers can wait.”

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

#fret not i am working on something even filthier #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

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bb-sg · 1 year

Text

Beg Pt.5

Part 5 is hereee :)

MDNI

I recommend reading the other parts of the story first if you haven't already.

�� Part 1 ֍ Part 2 ֍ Part 3 ֍ Part 4 ֍ Part 6 ֍

Relationship(s): Gojo x fem!Reader, Geto x fem!Reader

CW: Oral (Male recieving), degragation, mean!gojo,

Smut with some plot.

The tension in the room was palpable, the look in his eyes adding to your nervousness. You didn’t mean to hide anything from him, you just couldn't help but get wrapped up in his…everything. A minute had passed since he ordered you to kneel before him, your brain muddled with explanations that would appease him. He cocked his head while waiting for you to make a move, his eyes never wavering from yours.

“Don't act like you can’t hear me, angel. It’s rude to stare.”

A sly smile spread across his face; his hands cradled your face while he gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. The gesture would appear to be soothing, almost loving, to someone observing from the outside but it felt anything but loving to you. His touch was cold and controlling.

“Gojo, I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I figured you knew.” You stammered out, trying to back out of his embrace. The minute he felt you pulling away from him, his grip on you tightened and he took another step closer to you. Now he stood impossibly close, you felt his breath fanning over your face, tickling against your burning skin.

“I’m not in the mood to listen to your excuses. Why don’t you stop talking and put that pretty mouth to good use?” His voice was icy, lacking any compassion or playfulness.

Disobeying didn’t seem like an option. You couldn’t explain this hold he has over you. Slowly, you knelt down, keeping your eyes on him. The smile that crept onto his face was intimidating. He loved how obedient you were.

“Good girl. You know what to do. Don’t make me spell it out for you.” He purred while stroking your face with one hand before removing his shirt. His toned chest and abs glistened with a sheen of sweat. He reminded you of a statue of a Greek god with his porcelain skin and chiseled body. His smile grew when he saw you admiring him. Of course he knew just how attractive he was.

Smug asshole.

You helped him unbutton his pants, sliding them down, allowing him to be able to step out of them. The outline of his long, hard cock imprinted his boxers and made you drool. A low chuckle escaped his throat as he held your head and pressed your cheek against his aching cock. Through the thin fabric, you could feel it was warm and throbbing.

“I can’t wait to feel your pretty mouth.”

He released you before pulling his boxers down enough to release his member, allowing it to softly smack against his abs. You forgot how pretty his cock was, a long vein running along his shaft to a plump pink mushroom tip. You experimentally wrapped your hand around the base, softly squeezing. A quiet hiss left his lips as he threw his head back, closing his eyes, happily content with savoring the feeling of him being in your soft hands.

You slowly caressed his throbbing cock with one hand, only applying the bare minimum amount of pressure. After a few hesitant pumps your thumb grazed his tip, spreading his leaking precum around lazily. The urge to tease him grew as you watched him tense his muscles whenever you grazed his slit.

“Don’t tell me you are jealous Satoru.” You teased, as you resumed stroking him at a languid pace.

“Oh, angel. I don’t get envious when it comes to sluts like you.”

He snapped his head forward to make eye contact with you. The striking white hair falling around his face made him look regal, while his smile was lopsided in a devious grin. One of his hands held the back of your head, while his other quickly pinched your nose tight so you couldn’t breathe without opening your mouth.

Your first instinct was to run away, try and get out of his reach but you knew that was a fight you couldn’t win. You thought about cursing him, commanding him to release you, but according to his own calculations, his cursed technique is still protecting him from your cursed speech. For now.

You gave in, opening your mouth to breathe while he takes that opportunity to push his cock in your mouth. He doesn't start off easy, using your head as leverage to push his needy cock into your throat. Tears stung your eyes while you braced yourself by gripping his thighs. He moaned loudly when your nose brushed against his pelvis.

A moment passed by while he trapped you there, his eyes memorizing the way you looked so obedient and malleable, tears streaming down your cheeks but not one ounce of fight in you. He loved how beautiful your cursed markings were and how gorgeous your lips looked wrapped around his cock. If he had his phone handy, he would take pictures to use for his lock screen.

“Do me a favor and remember to breathe through your nose m’kay?”

The grip on the sides of your head tightens while he starts a brutal pace, fucking your face and throat as he chased his own high. Loud moans and groans filled the room and almost covered up the sound of you drooling on his cock.

Your eyes closed as you struggled to breathe through his relentless pace, his tip forcing its way into your tight throat with each stroke. The feeling of his long cock dragged on your tongue made your pussy clench, begging to be touched. Gojo pulled his hips back, his cock falling out of your mouth. You puttered and wiped drool from your face before looking up at him. He stroked his cock in front of you, his blue eyes drilling into you. He traced the outline of your lips with his tip before pushing back into your mouth slowly until your mouth was full. You relaxed your throat as he press you down on his cock further before pumping his long cock in and out of your mouth.

“I shouldn’t be surprised you’re so needy for attention, you slept with me in less than a day of knowing me.” He cackled while he mocked you. The only way you could protest against his degrading comment was to slap and push on his thighs. You glared up at him, eager to wipe that smile off his face.

“Also, why would I be jealous when I’m here using you like a whore right now? You’re simply my little plaything.”

He hissed as his pace sped up more, his sweat glistened abs tensing as he got closer to his orgasm. Tears filled your eyes again as he got rougher, his breathing becoming faster and heavier. His eyes were dilated, blown wide with lust. No matter how much you wanted to fight against him, you couldn’t deny that watching him teeter on the brink made you clench your thighs together. His flawless skin was tainted with a rose color blush on his cheeks, and his pink bottom lip was tucked between his teeth. He looked so needy and it made your core slick with desire.

“Fuck, you feel so good, princess. Going to make me cum.” He panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. His cock twitched in your mouth as he came, spilling his seed onto your tongue. The moan that ripped out of him was primal, and intense. He slowly slid out with a pop before tapping your nose and adding, “Good girl, now you’re going to swallow all that right?”

You rolled your eyes before swallowing and wiping your face off. You stood up, attempting to clean yourself up a bit.

“Gojo! What the hell?”

He shook his hair out before flopping down on the couch, his arms resting on the top of the couch. You had always thought the couch was too big for your home, but a man of his stature made it look like a toy. He let out an exaggerated sigh and let his head drop back.

“You agreed to play the game and now you’re being a sore loser. Don’t act like you don’t like being used like the toy you are.”

You scowled at him, neither confirming nor denying his statement.

He joked, his playful personality back in place like his mask never slipped. His smile was happy and teasing. “It’s not my fault you’re a bad liar.”

You squinted your eyes at him, frustration building up. “Why do you care if I talk to your friend? Since you’re not jealous.”

“I don’t like people sneaking around behind my back. Suguru told me everything already, I figured you would tell me too. Guess I was wrong, maybe you’re not as sweet as you seem.” He pretended to pout, putting on his best puppy-eyed face.

“You didn’t give me the chance to!”

“Don’t get your panties all twisted up. You had plenty of time.” He patted his thigh, beckoning you back to him. “We still got some time left to talk.”

Despite how frustrated you were with him; your aching core drove you back to him. You huffed as you sauntered back to him, stopping before him. A firm grip on your waist guided you down to straddle him, you hovered over his cock, which was still hard, cum still leaking out of the slit. You rocked your hips, allowing his tip to slide through your wet folds.

“Now, tell me, you ever exorcise any curses? Or do you just hide away out here?” He punctuated his question by lowering you down on his cock. You gasped, your eyes rolled back in your head, overwhelmed with the pleasure of finally feeling full. He pulled you down until you were flush with his pelvis, holding you in place.

“Yeah, I do sometimes.” A whimper falls from your lips. No matter how hard you try to move against him, he kept you in place. “Only if I run into them out here. This forest is crawling with them.”

He hummed before thrusting up into you, forcing moans out of both of you. His grip loosened enough to allow you to start rolling your hips against him, brushing your clit on his pelvis while his length drags against your walls. The sensation made your spine tingle and your muscles clench around him. Gojo was just as consumed by pleasure, his breath catching in his throat as you started to move. He traced the outline of your waist with his hands, marveling in how beautiful you looked when you rode him, meeting your hips with his own thrusts.

“Fuck kitten. Why don’t we take a walk and find some?” He rasped through his words. His eyes never leaving your body.

He is insane. I knew it.

“Right now? What’s wrong with you?”

He laughed gently before his eyes raked up to yours.

“After I fuck your dumb. I’m done playing games.”

In a blink of an eye, you were on your back while he hovered over you, still rutting deep inside you. Your legs wrapped around him and pulled him deeper. He captured your lips with his own, pressing your thighs against your chest. The kiss was tender and gentle, his lips were soft and warm against yours. His tongue traced your bottom lip, asking to be allowed to taste you. Happily, you parted your lips enough for his tongue to roll against yours. He pounded into you with slow but hard strokes, pushing the air out of your lungs each time his hips met yours.

He broke from the kiss to look at you, hungrily taking in the image of you entangled with him. The way you looked up at him, so enraptured by him and eyes glazed over with pleasure, drove him crazy. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful you were, but there was something so precious about the way you let yourself go around him.

The tension in your belly grew every time he slammed into your dripping pussy. It was starting to feel overwhelming, like you couldn’t breathe with how tight your muscles felt.

“Shit, I can feel how badly you want to cum. Let it go angel.” He whispered while pressing your legs further down, folding you until his cock was hitting the perfect spot. Your moans turned into screams that echoed through your house.

“Fuck Gojo, it’s too much.” You whined, feeling his cock bullying your g spot, filling you up so much it almost hurt. Your whole body was shaking, the ache in your core becoming intolerable.

“Don’t hold back princess.”

His voice sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami. The clenching and fluttering of your tight walls cause Gojo to cum with you, riding out your climaxes with slow, lazy strokes. The air was warm and humid around you, the smell of sex filled your house and the only sound that could be heard was the two of you trying to catch your breath.

“You did so well for me. We should play games more often.” He whispered, kissing your neck.

You laughed, “I hate and love that game.”

“Please, you loved it.”

He eased out of you, hissing at the stimulation. The way his eyes fixated on where you two were joined, watching his cum drip out of you made your cheeks burn.

“Can you grab a towel?” you sheepishly ask, pointing to where you kept them tucked away.

“You’re the host! I’ve got to do everything don’t I?” He groaned like a little kid who had been asked to do his homework before being able to play. It made you uneasy, how quickly he could switch from lovable goof to controlling asshole.

He got up from the couch and walked over to the closet. He reappeared next to you with a towel, offering it to you nonchalantly, then started to dress again after you took it from him. Secretly, you watched him redress, looking at his chest and neck for the remnants of the wounds he wore last time. There were faint markings where he had been injured. They were hard to make out if you didn't know to look for them.

It seemed strange that he never fully explained what happened, and why you came across him on death's door. It also seemed like a bad idea to bring it up too. You settled on choosing to wait until another time to pry that story out of him.

After cleaning up you located and put on your clothes as well. Gojo watched you with his six eyes, watching your cursed energy glimmer around you. It was beautiful to him, something he hadn’t seen before which intrigued him. He wanted to see more.

“What’s with all the questions about cursed energy?” You asked, puzzled as to what he was really after.

“I just want to know if you know how to use your cursed technique or if I’ll have to show you everything.”

“Show me everything?”

“Yeah, like if I’ll have to teach you how to exorcise curses and find out what grade you are. The usual sorcerer stuff.” He waved his hand around nonchalantly as if the explanation was evidently clear.

You stared at him for a moment, waiting for more from him but he only stared back with a goofy grin on his face.

“I’m not a sorcerer Gojo.” You retorted.

Though you were taught how to use your cursed energy you never had an opportunity to attend school to become a sorcerer. When you were younger, you had a hard time controlling your technique, putting others in danger whenever you slipped up. It had become easier to seclude and sequester yourself from others. Besides, the life of a sorcerer was usually short and plagued with sorrow, something that didn’t appeal to you all that much.

“Well not yet and not with that attitude.” He poked your side, causing you to flinch. A small laugh left his lips at how jumpy you were around him.

“I’m not sure it’s for me.” you trailed off, lost in thought.

“How about you make some food cause I’m starving, then we go take that walk? Then we can see if you are sorcerer material. Plus, I want to see you in action.” He looked excited and eager to venture into the forest.

“Seems like a bad idea Gojo. There’s a lot of bad energy here, we might run into some powerful curses.”

It was true. This forest was a hotbed for curses that formed from the fear and sorrow this place held. Suicide Forest was one of the most feared places in both the sorcerer and civilian world. It meant that people would hardly bother you, but you never strayed too far away from your familiar paths. You were strong but some of the curses were bred from such strong negative feelings that you would need a team of people to exorcise them.

He snorted and rolled his eyes before sliding his glasses back in place.

“Don’t worry kitten, I'll protect you.” he threw his arm around your shoulder before not so subtly guiding you to the kitchen.

You pushed him off you playfully. Only Gojo would be able to bring you to climax as well as make you want to punch him in the face out of anger in the same day.

“Set the table for three. You don’t mind if I invite someone over, right?” He beamed, his energy coursing through the room.

No, it’s not like this is my house or anything.

You didn’t answer, brushing him off.

“C’mon, don’t you want to meet your little pen pal?” He scoffed before once again rifling through your kitchen, pulling out random ingredients, mostly sweets and junk food. Your skin burned with embarrassment, remembering that you were talking to his best friend earlier.

“Plus, if you really want to be safe, you’d be better having both of us there. Suguru and I are the strongest.” He looked at you over his glasses, winking before flashing you one of his signature smiles.

The strongest?

The idea of venturing out into the depths of the forest seeking out curses made your stomach turn. Part of you wanted to flat out refuse, seeing no reason to put yourself through the stress and danger of eradicating random malevolent curses. The other part of you was curious and wanted to see Gojo and Geto using their abilities, seeing for yourself if they really are the strongest like he claimed they were. It was hard to imagine him being the strongest when you watched him stuff his face with candy, picking out his favorites and throwing the others away.

On the other hand, when was the last time you really let loose and tested yourself? Thanks to Gojo’s technique, this is the first time you’ve had a vocal conversation with another person in so long. It may feel good to release some pent-up energy and get a little crazy. After some contemplation, you conceded to his plan, shaking your head in disbelief that you were agreeing to this outrageous plan.

“Fine. You guys are doing the dishes though.”

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that. I’ll be back!” He ran out of the house before you could respond. He waved excitedly and slammed the door behind him.

You sighed, frustrated with his behavior once again, but underneath your frustration you were excited. Living in solitude for as long as you have made your days feel monotonous at times. Gojo was a lot of things but predictable was not one of them. He brought vibrancy to your life, and you couldn’t complain. Too much.

What am I getting myself into?

Resignedly you began making dinner, enough for three people. After some contemplation you decided to make your favorite meal, putting in love and devotion to make it just right. Although you were almost positive that Gojo would eat just about anything you put in front of him, you wanted to put your best foot forward with him and Geto for that matter.

An hour had passed before you heard a knock at the door. Without opening the door, you could hear whispers I’m the other side followed by Gojo’s less-than-quiet laugh. He called your name in a sing song voice.

You hesitantly opened the door to see Gojo, with a satisfied grin on his face, as well as another man standing next to him. The stranger was tall and handsome, with thick black hair tied back letting a few strands hang in his face. His dark brooding eyes looked you up and down. He was dressed casually, wearing baggy black pants, a tight black tee, and dark gauges. Strong muscles were outlined through the fabric of his shirt. His demeanor was calm and collected, much calmer than his counterpart.

Gojo hooked his arm around the man’s neck and pulled him close. “Hey, I brought your new little friend! Hope you made extra food cause I’m starving, and it smells good.”

The other man smiled at you it was warm and soothing, his smile spreading across face and to his eyes.

“Excuse Gojo’s lack of manners. I’m Geto, nice to meet you officially. Thank you for letting us into your home.” He bowed slightly, as much as he was able to with Gojo hanging on him. Your cheeks warmed at the polite gesture.

You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but abruptly stopped, realizing you ran the risk of cursing them. You settled on returning his bow and using sign language to say, “Nice to meet you”. Geto smiled at your gesture before coming inside.

Watching them enter your home and interact puzzled you. Gojo moved around your home like he’s lived there for years, comfortably and haphazardly. While Geto exercised caution, asking you what he could and couldn’t touch, he walked on eggshells around you.

They were so different, almost opposites of each other. Ying and yang. Blue and red. If Gojo was the sun, then Geto would be the moon, revolving around one another but never quite eclipsing each other.

“Oi! You going to eat or is this all for us?” You swore you saw stars in Gojo’s eyes for a moment as he started at all the food.

You shook your head and fixed yourself a plate alongside the two men. They were intimidating, both very tall and broad. They took up too much space in your small home, sitting at your small kitchen table awkwardly. You laughed quietly at how absurd both men looked, elbowing each other for more space to eat. You sat across from Geto, sneaking glances at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention. On a few occasions he would catch you, smiling when your eyes met. The fire that burned your cheeks was fierce, embarrassment caused your heart to skip whenever you saw his kind smile. You shifted in your seat, trying to quiet the butterflies in your stomach.

Why does he make me so nervous?

“Thank you for the food, it was excellent.” Geto’s voice cut through the silence. You smiled and nodded your head. You pulled out your phone to type out a response, turning the phone to him proudly.

-Thank you! It is one of my favorite meals.

He laughed, “It is one of my favorites too”. He moved his chair closer to you, leaning over the table in your direction.

The two of you engaged in small talk, getting to know each other better and getting lost in conversation, even forgetting that Gojo was also at the table. It was just like when you were texting him earlier, it was easy to talk with him. Everything flowed naturally, there was a warm comfortability between the two of you. It was another way Geto and Gojo were different.

Gojo fumed silently as he watched the two of you interact. His fists clenched when Geto touched your arm as he laughed at something you had shown him on your phone. He felt the glass in his hand threaten to break under his grip. His jaw flexed when he saw your beautiful smile directed at Geto and not him. Gojo tells himself he’s not jealous, you were just a good time. A way to relieve stress. No, he tells himself he can’t be jealous, he’s just competitive.

“Not to interrupt your date, but we have some curses to exercise.” Gojo smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose, hiding how irritated he was getting. He stood up quickly, knocking the chair back as he slammed his palms on the table. “Time for you to see why I’m the strongest sorcerer.”

Geto rolled his eyes and glared at Gojo, whose smile only grew wider when he saw his best friend glaring at him.

“Isn’t that right, Geto?”

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years

Text

Born to be Yours: Part 1 (Marc Spector x fem!reader)

Masterlist | Playlist | Part 2

Warnings: A little bit of angst, smut (not too explicit in this part)

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I decided it's best to come back with a bang (ehehehhe, ok ill stop now), and what other way to do it than to post on my birthday. BUT HI, THANKS FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME <333 I'm going to start writing and posting more often from now on, part two of this should be up by Wednesday. Again, love y'all loads and enjoy this Marc fic hehe.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The toddler’s shrieks reverberated around the patio as you spun around with her in your arms.

“AHHH the monster will never let you go!” You squealed and tickled the toddler, drawing out loud giggles.

Suddenly, big, strong arms ripped the toddler from your grasp, leaving you confused.

“Your prince charming is here to save you, m’lady!” a fake English accent followed a gorgeous raven haired man who stepped into your line of vision.

You scowl, despite the flutter of butterflies in your tummy, at the person in front of you, as the toddler gives him a big kiss on the cheek. He winked back to you and set the toddler down, who toddled away to her mother.

“Didn’t expect for you to show up.” You say to the chiseled Greek god that decided to grace your presence.

He hands you a chilled beer as he not-so-subtly eyes you up and down.

“Yea, I was in town and had to rescue my princess.” His eyes snap to yours and you feel a little creature in the pits of your stomach awaken. You snort and take a little sip of your beer.

“How long have you been back?” you leaned against the railing.

“About a week. Been meaning to meet you.” he says with a genuine smile.

“Bullshit, Spector. You hate my guts.” You laughed, trying not to blush at his pretty smile.

The old butterflies that you tried so hard to push away from you instantaneously resurfaced the second you laid your eyes on Marc Spector, threatening to tear themselves out of you and surround you with their visually piercing wings, as if attempting to shield you from the yearning that you had endured all these years.

Gina had organized a little barbecue with drinks and you had dropped by after work, your usual office clothes swapped with a cream colored salwar kameez and a beautiful red bordered shawl in the same color. You would be lying if you didn’t check your makeup and salwar kameez about a billion times before coming here, after knowing that Marc would be joining. You had not seen Marc for months and a small part of you wanted to see him at the gathering.

“Gina told me that you’ve got a boyfriend?” Marc suddenly says, and you raise an eyebrow at him, trying to scan his face for even the smallest bit of reaction to the statement he had just blurted out.

“So what if I do?” you said, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Lucky boy, I guess.” he shrugged, averting his dark eyes away from you.

“Gods, Marc, we’re 35, I don’t date boys, I date men.” you sighed exasperatedly.

“Mmm, so then why isn’t this a thing.” he said nonchalantly, gesturing between the two of you, his face masking any emotion that you wanted to pick up on.

“Okay, kiddos, cut it off, I can hear an argument brewing. Stop it before I kick the both of you out of the house.” Gina steps in before you could even answer.

“It's a civilized conversation Gina, and you should really stop telling this man stories about my love life.” you chastised, bringing the beer bottle to your lips, tipping your head back and chugging the rest of it before slamming the bottle down to the table. “And Spector, this right here isn’t a thing because we’re just not it.”

You walked away from Marc and Gina to go and mingle with the others but you swore you could feel Marc’s impenetrable gaze lingering on you. His words remained imprinted in your mind and it kept playing again and again.

Why isn’t this a thing?

Did Marc have feelings for you? Or was he just testing the waters? You shook your head to rid the thoughts that were circulating aimlessly around. You really needed to clear your mind.

You left the little gathering and stepped into the house, slipping into the bathroom. You do your business and then wash your hands when suddenly the door swings open and Marc steps in and closes the door behind him.

“Bloody hell Marc, I swear I locked that.” You gasped as Marc chuckled. Your hand clutched at your chest and you took a few deep breaths.

“Did you follow me here?” You questioned, once your breathing steadied slightly.

“What if I did?” he said, raising his eyebrows, a mischievous glint flashing through his eyes.

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the sink to wipe your hands on the small towel. You planted your hands on either side of the sink and glared at Marc through the mirror.

“Why are you here then?” you say to his mirrored image.

“What do you mean by ‘We’re just not it’?” he interrogated.

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t”

“Spector, we’re polar opposites, you like playing around with guns and being reckless, while I prefer the peaceful suburban life with no recurrent issues.” you sigh, bringing your hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “We’ve not seen eye to eye since we were kids and things will just not work between us.”

“We were just kids.” Marc smiled. “Times have changed.”

Tentatively, Marc took a step closer to you until he was standing directly behind you. Your glare faltered and your eyelashes fluttered slightly as he brushed his fingertips up your right arm and your grip on the sink loosened as tingles spread through your body.

“What if I told you we could make it work?” he breathed.

“We’re barely even friends, Marc.” You whispered.

He closes the gap, pushing you slightly against the sink and your breath hitched at his crotch pushed against the curve of your behind. You leaned back until you were flush against him, trying your best not to move against him.

“Mmm, is that what you want to be? Friends?” Marc uttered into your ear and you swore you could see his eyes glow white.

You wanted to answer him but that part of you, the sensible part of you, was tossed away, replaced with a prey who was trying her best to stand up to something a little too big for her liking.

Without a warning, he grabbed your hips and twirled you around to face him. On a normal instance, if someone had manhandled you like this, they would have had their head bashed in, but for some reason, a creature in you purred with Marc’s touch and your eyes voluntarily closed.

“Open your eyes and answer my question.” Marc’s breath tickled your face and your eyes opened instantly and you tried to nod.

“I-” Whatever coherent sentence you were going to utter was lost to the last of the air that escaped your lungs as your eye zeroed on the thin gold chain around his neck that had somehow escaped from his black button down shirt. You felt your world stop when you saw what he was wearing as a pendant.

Years ago, when Marc had left to join the military, you’d lost one of your favorite rings. It was a tiny gold band with a beautiful tiny blue sapphire that had been gifted by your late grandfather, an important family heirloom. Every night before bed you would take it off and set it on your bedside table, but on the day that the boys left, it was gone.

The pain of losing the ring and Marc at one go was too much for your teenage self to handle and you had cried for weeks. Now here it was, dangling from Marc’s gold chain, both of your cherished possessions back with you again.

You looped your finger around the ring and looked up at Marc’s eyes, demanding an explanation. Your questioning glare almost faltered as you met his now sad eyes.

“The day before I was drafted, I came to see you, to say goodbye, but you were asleep. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye, so I kinda just took your ring, you know, to have a piece of you with me.” Marc stumbled over his words, his usually authoritative voice dropping to a whisper as he got to the last part of his sentence.

He wanted to remember you.

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you searched Marc’s eyes for anything to prove your suspicions wrong and all you found was a look of yearning. You lifted a hand to his jaw, caressing his sharp jaw with your thumb and he leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering close.

“How long?” you whispered.

You knew what you were meaning to ask and he knew exactly what you wanted to know.

“For as long as I can remember, I always knew I was born to be yours, Y/N.” he whispered, opening his big brown eyes.

His honey-like voice filled your ears with one of the most beautiful melodies on the planet as he said it.

Slowly, Marc leaned in and your breath hitches as you brace yourself for what was about to happen, when suddenly the door swings open for the second time in the evening.

The both of you turned to see Gina standing there staring with her eyes and mouth wide open. You almost lost your head at the comical expression that adorned Gina’s face as you shifted your hips for Marc to let go, but his grip on your hips only tightened.

“Marc, let go.” You leaned in and whispered in his ear, caressing his jaw slightly again.

He snapped out of his daze and dropped his hands.

The both of them stared at each other like deer caught in headlights and you took your chance to silently slip past the both of them, trying hard to ignore the familiar tingling at the bottom of your abdomen that Marc left you with.

You quickly mumbled your byes to everyone and got into your car. You tried shutting your eyes but all you could see and feel was flashes of him, his chiseled jaw, his big hands on your hips, his soft breath fanning your lips.

You thought about your little ring hanging from his chain and how all these years he’s had it with him. You sat there in the car for a while, taking in slow deep breaths, trying to calm yourself and tame the creature that was itching to get loose.

You thought about going back, dragging him home with you to settle your differences and get back to what really mattered. You wanted to release years of pent up pain and anger that he had accumulated in you and you wanted whatever he had just said to you to be oh so true.

But for some reason you couldn’t. You just couldn’t.

“Fuck this.” You mumbled and started the car.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc’s thumb caressed your jaw as you stare in wonder and amazement at his heavenly face. You tucked a hand under his cheek that lay on the pillow beside you and he brushed his thumb across your bottom lip. You let a small desperate whimper escape your throat as his hand left your face. Marc shifted closer to you and you tipped your head back, exposing your neck as your fingers slid into his soft messy curls.

His large hand found its way under the sheets to grip your hips as he pressed soft kisses onto the little spot on your neck that made you melt into his touch and tug his hair a little harder.

“There, you like that don’t you, angel?” Marc’s voice shifted to a deeper, cooler tone that makes you shiver. Your jaw slacked slightly and your eyes shut slowly. Any coherent thoughts you had in your mind trailed and faded instantly.

His hands moved lower, guiding your leg over his body, which you gladly obeyed. His hand then slides upward, under your loose nightshirt to cup your bare tit. His talented fingers gently twist your already sensitive nipple as he bites and sucks at your neck. You moan gratefully, grinding your hips to relieve the ache that had begun growing at your core.

“Marc…”

You woke up with a start and almost sprang out of your empty bed. You looked around, confused, your mind still deep in that little dream you had about Marc Spector. You let yourself fall back down with a thump onto your pillow as your head overflowed with thoughts of Marc. You closed your eyes and you swore you could feel him there with you and you clung to the imaginary feeling of his soft lips and hard hands on your hot skin.

It didn’t take long for the thoughts to jumble into messy waves as you incoherently slipped your hand under the waistband of your sleep shorts.

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc’s POV

All Marc could see was you. Your beautiful deep brown skin, the feeling of your gentle touch against him, the far away sparkle in your eye. You both were in Steven’s flat in a jumble of limbs and Marc couldn’t believe his luck.

“Finally.” He thought as he pulled your leg over his own hips.

Your mouth dropped open and he heard his name being uttered in the most sinful way possible as he continued his careful and calculated ministrations on you. To his awful luck, the second he heard his name, he found himself being rudely awoken by a loud cackle.

Marc’s mercenary instincts kicked in and he flung himself off his bed, landing ungracefully onto his face as his ankle was still tied tightly to his bed post. He stayed on the floor, utterly defeated as he heard gleeful laughter come from his head mates and the ancient moon god.

“Never in all of my existence have I had this much of a laugh.” Khonshu boomed and Marc looked up just in time to see him dabbing tears off his bird skull.

Jake and Steven were still rolling around with uncontrollable fits of laughter, clinging to each other in the head space as they watched their alter angrily pull the restraints of his leg.

Marc rubbed his nose that had unfortunately taken the brunt of his fall and he padded slowly back to his bed, slouching like a small beaten up puppy. He looked out the window to see that the sky was still dark and the beautiful full moon was out, dancing with the stars in the sky.

“What the fuck were you guys up to?” He yelled over their laughter.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret, my knight. I may have just sent her the same dream.” Khonshu chuckled, his blank eyes falling to the prominent tent in Marc’s sweatpants.

“I directed the little dream, of course.” Jake smirked.

“The restraints were my idea!” Steven piped up.

Marc groaned and fell back onto his bed, his nose slowly healing with Khonshu’s powers. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as Khonshu’s voice rang in his head, more coherently this time.

I may have just sent her the same dream.

“YOU SENT HER THE SAME DREAM?”

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Marc thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his car, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. He was on his way to your house to apologize. To tell you that he didn’t mean to freeze yesterday at Gina’s intrusion, that he really wanted to call you, to continue to tell you how he felt, and finally to explain to you why it took him so long to come to his senses and admit his feelings for you.

Why didn’t he just go last night? Why did he decide to leave the matter at hand to be dealt with at a more civilized hour? He wanted to be a gentleman for once. You are poise, grace and beauty, just like a queen, energy he definitely wasn’t used to receiving. He was a knight, a knight that served his country and then a powerful moon god to the point that it almost cost him everything. He was violent, merciless, ruthless and every cell in his body screamed at him, telling him that he didn’t deserve you.

Marc looped his finger around the tiny ring that hung on his chain. His mind flashed to all the times he was close to death, or close to being captured by the enemy, how he would clutch the ring with such vigor, clinging to the very last lifeline that kept him from losing everything. He would hold that once piece of you almost like a promise, a promise that everything would be alright in the end.

For the fifth time in the morning he looked in the rear view mirror of his car to ask for reassurance from his alters. Steven and Jake had quietened down and were now smiling gently and making sure that Marc was comfortable with the next direction he was going to take with you.

A generous bouquet of Casa Blanca Lilies sat on the seat beside him, its fragrance dancing through his car, a little peace offering that was suggested and sponsored by Jake.

Marc was rudely pulled out of his thoughts by the crude ringing of his phone. He cringed at the sound but immediately went into survival mood when his eyes read the caller id. His fingered fumbled as he shakily answered your call.

“Marc… Marc please.” your strained moans floated out of the speaker, constricting Marc’s lungs before he could even try to utter a greeting.

For a few seconds, all Marc could see was white. Dizzily, he realized that all the blood in his body rushed south. The only thing he could pick up on perfectly was your whines, moans and please. He glanced up to the rear view mirror to see a shocked Jake and Steven staring back with their mouths hanging open.

All thoughts of being a gentleman flew out of the proverbial window as Marc hastily ended the call and gripped onto the steering wheel. It was finally time for him to take matters into his own hands and break the ice that had been forming.

Your POV

You were jolted up by the sound of the door bell ringing. For the second time today you had no idea where you were and you quickly slipped out of bed and swayed towards the entrance of your apartment, still drunk on the aftermath of your little escapade. Incoherently, you swung the door open only to be face to face with Marc Spector.

Your mouth dropped open in response and you scanned his form. You almost gasped at the beautiful bouquet of lilies he was holding but you managed to drag your eyes away from it just in time. He looked absolutely delectable in his black shirt and slacks but what intrigued you was that his eyes were a shade darker than usual, with a hint of emotion that you could not read. They bored into yours as if he was reading your mind and you felt your face heat up.

“Spector! I wasn’t expecting you.” you exclaimed, briskly trying to flatten your bird's nest esque hair and pulling your top so that it was covering your mid section.

Marc raised an eyebrow at you as you quickly made space for him to step in. You watched on with a dazed expression on your face as he made himself comfortable on the couch, dropping the bouquet of flowers he was holding beside him. All this while, he stayed silent and his eyes never left your for a second. He tipped his head towards the empty end of the couch and you soon found yourself sitting at the edge with your hands in your lap.

“Want a drink?” you asked quietly.

“Just dropped by to ask a tricky little question.” he shook his head and finally said, his voice as cool and metallic as the dream you had. “Hope I was not interrupting anything.”

You managed to summon the willpower to not drool like a saint bernard on crack as you tried to form words in your head.

“N-not at all.” you were embarrassed with how small your voice sounded and you averted your eyes from his harsh eye contact.

Marc cleared his throat, spreading his knees apart and leaning back onto the couch, as he eyes you, his face still void of any emotion. You swear you could feel yourself melt under the power of his gaze.

“Just to be clear, we’re just…”

“Friends.” you automatically whispered, your eyes widening with your false statement.

“Yea?” Marc questioned, his lip twitching with a ghost of a smirk etched upon it. “Come on, sit closer to me, I won’t bite.” he continued, dragging his large palm across the empty space beside him.

Won’t bite yet by the looks of it.

You shook your head to get rid of the filthy thought and scooted closer to Marc. To your utter astonishment, you suddenly felt Marc’s strong grip around your waist and you were hoisted into his lap. You felt like a doll in his arms, you didn’t know what else to do but to cling onto his shirt. He adjusted you around him, letting your legs fall to his side as the plump of your ass sat perfectly on his vast thighs.

You were breathing heavily and you realized that you had your eyes squeezed tightly shut. You wrenched them open and searched Marc’s face, not believing that you had the chance to observe it from such a close proximity. You tried your best to drink up every single detail as you resisted the urge to kiss every single curve and dimple on his god-like face.

Just like in your dream, Marc leaned into you and nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, making your breath hitch. One of his hands smoothed up your back and cradled the back of your neck while the other gripped tightly on your hip, thumb rubbing small inconsistent circles right above the band of your shorts.

“If we’re just friends, then what were you up to just now, my lying angel?”

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