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orivaa-kun · 8 months

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BAD ATTITUDE | Chapter 8: Lovers & Fighters

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 chapter word count: 7.4k warnings: mature (18+), violence, drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels, rough s*x, emotional manipulation pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Nanami Kento x Fem OC, Fushiguro Toji x Fem OC series summary: Jujutsu Kaisen Yakuza AU where Riku Ozaki (OC) is really good at getting herself into trouble. Though the Ozaki family is ranked #10 out of the 15 clans of the Tokyo Yakuza syndicate in terms of power & strength; and the Gojo, Geto, and Zenin families fall at #1, #2, and #3 respectively; that doesn't keep her from getting in the mix with these highly ranked, highly dangerous men. Her clan's bodyguard, Nanami, can hardly keep up with all the compromising positions she constantly finds herself in. Will she ever learn her lesson? Find out on the next episode of Dragon Ba- fic playlist: Spotify YouTube

When Riku enters the massive, white painted, warehouse style gym, her eyes widen and her hand drops out of Gojo’s at the sight of two shirtless guys intensely sparring in a ring in the center of the floor. They look younger, definitely not past their mid 20s, and the sight of them fighting so hard honestly makes her a little nervous. The one dominating the fight has blondish-pink hair, and he throws a quick sequence of jabs, punches, and kicks at the other guy with black, long yet spiky hair who stands at a similar height as him—both just a bit taller than Riku. She squints her eyes at the black-haired one. Doesn’t he kind of look like—

“SENSEI…!” Riku’s thoughts are cut off when the one with pink-blonde hair—who’d seemed to be winning—almost immediately spots Gojo entering the gym and shouts, bright smile beaming from ear to ear. The black-haired guy takes the other’s distraction as an opportunity to kick him square in the jaw, sending blondie to the ground to writhe in pain.

Gojo guffaws to the sight of this but collects himself before shouting his response, “Hey, Yuji! Hey, Megumi! Hey, everyone!”

Everyone training and exercising in the main open space of the gym, including those on its outskirts lifting weights or practicing by hitting punching bags pause what they’re doing to shout in unison, “Good afternoon, Gojo-sensei!!” Riku blinks in surprise to this. She didn’t know Gojo was a teacher…

The black-haired one in the ring turns and removes his gloves after he’s kicked his opponent to the ground, “Gojo-sensei?”

“Satoru! Ooo, who’s the gal?” A tall woman with blonde hair and sharp-cut, middle parted bangs asks, leaning on the rope of the sparring ring. Wearing an all-black tracksuit, she stands next to a much larger and bulkier man with a small man-bun and a thick scar down the left side of his face. He wears the same style black tracksuit pants as the woman but has on a white tank top instead of a jacket.

“Sensei brought a girl?!” As if he hadn’t just been hit in the head, the pink haired one springs up from the floor of the ring to look around his sparring partner, expression turning to one of surprise at the sight of Riku.

Gojo wraps his arm around Riku’s shoulders, keeping his voice loud, “Everyone, this is Riku—Jin Osaki’s niece!”

Riku waves, a friendly yet nervous smile on her face.

The tall woman in the tracksuit approaches them first, hands confidently sitting on her hips, “Oh she’s hot.” She stops right in front of Riku with a smirk and analyzing eyes, “What’s your type, Riku?”

Riku’s jaw falls agape, not having expected the woman to ask her that of all things, “What? My type?”

Gojo chuckles, “Meet Yuki, Ri. And don’t worry, she asks everyone this.

Yuki nods, hands still on her hips, “So, what is it?”

Riku is still dazed by the woman’s question but reluctantly answers, tapping her index on her bottom lip in thought, “Uhm… I guess, tall and muscular guys who are strong, smart, and will give me whatever I ask for?”

Yuki crosses her arms over her chest and nods repeatedly, closing her eyes to smirk knowingly. She opens her eyes again after a second, “Bold choice. I get that…” She laughs to herself, “You’re the type to get yourself and others in a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”

Riku’s eyes widen, “What?! Wait… how’d you know that…?” She says the last of her words a bit quieter, her shock turning to fear.

Gojo clears his throat, speaking lower so only Yuki and Riku can hear him, “She forgot to add she likes guys who are mean to her.” He grins devilishly.

Riku’s cheeks burn bright red, and she shoves Gojo away as hard as she can, “No, I don’t! Shut it, you cat-haired fuck!!”

Gojo hardly moves from Riku’s shove and simply laughs.

“Ohoho?’ Yuki quirks a brow, gently chuckling and narrowing her eyes on Riku for a moment, “…I can see it.” She states with a bit of finality.

“Please don’t listen to him!” Riku pleads to Yuki as the muscular man with the scar, Yuji, and Megumi all approach them.

“Riku, this is Todo, Yuji, and Megumi.” Gojo introduces, each of the guys waving after their names are called, except for Megumi who just nods his head once.

Now that he’s closer, Riku stares at Megumi more closely, and makes a perplexed face in realization, “You know, you look a lot like T—”

“Toji’s my father.” Megumi says shortly and monotone, completely unphased by Riku’s sudden connection.

Riku’s perplexed expression turns to shock; the color drains from her face, “Wait, what?!”

“But I’m not connected to that deadbeat piece of shit.” Megumi clarifies, “Not even in the Zenin clan.”

Riku presses her hand to her chest and releases a deep breath in relief, “Holy shit, you almost gave me a heart attack…”

“Oh, sorry.” Megumi’s expression remains flat and emotionless, but he rubs the back of his head, “Didn’t know you knew the asshole.”

“Unfortunately, I do. Wait—how old are you?!” Riku asks. Toji didn’t look that old, and Megumi doesn’t look like a kid…

“22. My father was 16 when him and my mother had me.”

“Oh. Well, sorry you have an awful and absolute menace for a dad.” Riku says.

Megumi shrugs nonchalantly.

“Wait, is she the one who kicked Toji in the balls?!” Yuji pokes his index in Riku’s direction.

“That’s right.” Gojo smirks smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Todo reaches forward to clasp Riku’s hand in his two, shaking it once before holding it for a few seconds, “The type of girl to kick Toji in the balls is my type of girl. I had a feeling you were different.”

Riku swears she sees tears of joy in Todo’s eyes and she hums in confusion, brows lifting at the other’s sudden movements.

“Don’t mind him, he’s really strange, but he’s a good fighter.” Yuji notes.

Riku laughs awkwardly, pulling her hand back from Todo’s grasp.

“Well, now that everyone’s well-acquainted…” Gojo turns to Yuki, “You have some forms for me to sign?”

“Yeah, they’re in your office.” Yuki pokes her thumb back in the space behind her, towards a hallway with a few doors along it.

“Good, thanks.” Gojo rests his hand on top of Riku’s head, “While I do that, Yuji, why don’t you give Riku a tour of the gym?”

“Sure thing, sensei!” Yuji smiles so bright and honestly that it’s infectious, and Riku finds herself smiling, too.

“Megumi, you do some drills with Yuki and Todo. Your roundhouse is too slow for your competitor next week, and the only reason you won just now was because Yuji was distracted.”

Megumi’s eye twitches with a bit of anger to Gojo’s painfully straightforward feedback, “Got it.” He grunts between clenched teeth.

“Be back in a sec, Ri, okay?” Gojo ruffles Riku’s hair before turning and letting go of her head, already heading off towards the hallway. Todo and Megumi begin to retreat back to the fighting ring in the center of the room.

“Nice to meet you, Riku!” Yuki says with a sweet smile before doing the same.

“Well, welcome to the Six Eyes Gym!” Yuji stretches his arms out wide, gesturing to the expansive workout and training space around them, “This is the main floor…”

Gojo’s phone vibrates in his pocket as he approaches his office and he retrieves it from his side, quickly sliding his finger over the screen to answer the call when he sees ‘SUGURU’ flash across it.

“Yo.” Gojo says short and quick into the phone, beginning to stride down the hallway that leads to his office.

“Hey Satoru—” Geto’s voice is cut off by the sound of a blood-curdling scream from a man in the background, “sorry ‘bout the volume, but just found the culprit who delivered Toji’s letter and wiped the security cameras… Let me get somewhere quieter.”

“Ah. Get anything out of him yet?” Gojo asks casually, entering his office and closing the door behind him. He flicks on the lights and spots the stack of papers on his desk.

“Nah, not anything substantial. Seems like he might just be an errand boy and doesn’t know much. Though I do have two of my clan muscle interrogating him for Toji’s location.” As Geto speaks, the thuds and screams in the background begin to grow quieter and fainter, and Gojo assumes his friend is now at a distance or in another room completely.

“With how many yakuza we got tracking him in Tokyo, doubt he’s even in the area. That or the asshole is really fucking good at hiding.” Gojo plops down into his office chair, searching through one of his desk drawers for a pen before beginning to mindlessly scan his eyes over the first page of the small pile of forms in front of him.

“Yeah, we’ll see what happens with our current lead, but I honestly doubt Toji elected to tell this messenger anything. Also doubt he cares if the dude lives or dies.”

“Knowing him, he definitely doesn’t.” Gojo says plainly, and there’s a short pause in their conversation.

“How’s Riku been?” Geto asks, voice lower and playful.

“Oh, so that’s why you called. You wanna know how our date’s been going?” Gojo grins as he flips a page over and clicks the end of his pen a few times. He signs his family name at the bottom, “What? Afraid you’re gonna lose our game?”

“Never that.” Geto laughs on the other end of the phone, “So you gonna tell me or not?”

“Since you’re so nosy… Riku’s doing great. Took her the scenic route to the beach, stopped at a clifftop coffee shop, let her taste the new club menu and sake at Iwai’s, we walked on the beach, and I even found time to fuck her in between. Now Yuji’s giving her a tour of the gym while I do some fight club maintenance work in my office.” Gojo smirks as he flips pages to the next set of forms.

“You fucked her, without me? That’s not fair.” Geto says in a sultry voice, his smirk evident through his tone.

“No rules, remember?” Gojo chuckles, sitting up in his office chair and clicking the back of his pen a few more times, “She begged for it, too.”

“Yeah? Where’d you fuck her?”

“In the back of Iwai’s,” Gojo snickers once, “nearly broke the bathroom door down, I nailed her so hard into it.”

“Was she loud?” Geto asks, voice heavy with lust.

Gojo notices, “Of course she was loud. I found a way to keep her quiet, though. Well, as quiet as she could be getting the sense fucked outta her… You know, you’ve got quite the curiosity today, Suguru.” Gojo cocks his head to the side and tucks his phone between his shoulder and ear, holding the form still with one hand while he signs the paper with his other, “Feeling lonely?” Gojo murmurs, purposely making his tone breathy and wanton.

“It’s called FOMO.” Geto explains in a low, heated voice, before quickly changing the subject, “But tell me how her pussy felt.”

At the sound of Geto’s words, Gojo’s eyes blink wide in realization and he grins, “Wait, are you jerking off right now, Suguru?” Gojo leans forward in his chair, intrigued.

“…Maybe.” Geto heavily exhales the word, only confirming it for Gojo.

Gojo chuckles once, smirk remaining on his lips, “You want me to tell you about how good Riku’s pussy felt? How warm and wet she was, and how she kept squeezing me like crazy?” Gojo drops his pen on his desk and sits back in his chair, returning his left hand to his phone so he can properly hold it against his ear to hear Geto clearly. He turns up the volume with a few taps of his thumb.

“Fuck, yes.”

Gojo bites the inside of his lip after hearing Geto’s depraved-sounding tone and uses his free hand to slide a drawer open in his desk, fishing around in it before retrieving and clicking a remote that slowly shuts the electric blinds on his office room’s windows, “And you call me the horny one?” After returning the remote to its drawer and closing it, Gojo rises from his chair to lock his office door. His voice suddenly turning alluring, “Why don’t you squeeze yourself from base to tip nice and slow, Suguru? Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah. Shit, it’s so tight…” Geto huffs out, clearly consumed with being so turned on.

Gojo returns to his chair, “That’s how tight Riku was. The harder you fuck her the tighter she gets—it’s insane, really.” He coos.

“I wanna fuck her face again.” Geto grunts.

Gojo hums, appreciating the sound of Geto’s voice, “Mm… She’s got a good mouth, that one. Nice and wet with a tight throat, and she knows how to work her tongue.” Gojo smooths his hand down the bulk of his thigh when he feels his own cock twitch up against the confines of his shorts, “You think she gives better head than me, Suguru?”

“Fuck, Satoru…” Geto moans hungrily, just above a whisper, “She’s good, but you know me. You know what I like.” He pauses to pant a heavy exhale, “Want you to suck me.”

Gojo’s lips silently form a small ‘o’ in response to Geto’s words and he unbuttons his shorts, reaching beneath them to retrieve his hardened dick. He begins to pump it in his fist, “Yeah? You want me to suck you, or do you need me to?”

Geto sighs lustfully, “Need you to.” He pauses before he continues, voice low and gravelly, “You know how to make me cum quick.”

“That’s right. Are you still stroking yourself nice and slow for me?” Gojo turns up the honey in his voice.

“Uh-huh.”

“Stroke a little faster.”

Gojo assumes he listens because Geto curses before he speaks again, “I’m so fucking hard, Satoru.”

“I know, Suguru. You made me hard, too…” Gojo trails off, keeping up his vocal composure, though his own horniness and stroking of his cock is beginning to eat away at his ability to, “You want me to get your dick nice and wet, and take it all in my mouth? Want me to suck the head and lick at that spot right beneath it, just how you like?”

“Oh, fuck.” Geto tries to restrain a moan but fails.

Gojo grins wickedly, pleased that he’s the only one who gets to hear Geto’s depraved and desperate voice like this, “Why don’t you stop stroking and squeeze that spot for me?” Gojo demands, saying the question more like a statement.

Geto breathes raggedly on the other end of the phone line. He speaks up after a long pause, “Can I start stroking again?”

“You never really answered my question earlier, Suguru.” Gojo says plainly, blatantly ignoring Geto’s request as he strokes himself freely.

“Shit. What question?” Geto groans.

“You think Riku gives you head better than me?” Gojo asks again, nearly singing the question as he continues to fist his dick.

“No, Satoru.”

“And you know why that is?”

“Why?”

“It’s ‘cos your cock is mine. Now, say it.” Gojo commands coldly, any sweetness now gone from his voice.

“My cock is yours…” Geto pants.

“Again.”

“My cock is yours, Satoru.”

“Start stroking again. Fast.”

Geto sucks in a breath, sharply, “Gonna cum.”

“You wanna cum in my mouth, Suguru?” The honey returns to Gojo’s tone.

“Yes—”

“Yeah, I thought you would.” Gojo quickly interjects, pumping himself faster, “But I’m gonna cum, too. Where do you want it?”

“…My hair.”

“You like that, huh?” Gojo chuckles, “That’s pretty nasty, Suguru. What, you need a protein treatment?” Gojo smirks, murmuring the question mockingly.

“Geez, can you shut up, Satoru? ‘M gonna… fuck!” Geto moans with finality. After a long pause, he clicks his tongue against his teeth and sighs, “Did not want to cum to that.”

Gojo closes his eyes and imagines himself gripping a handful of Geto’s long, black strands of hair. In his mind, he grips them at the root with one hand while his other continues to stroke himself off. Geto’s hair is soft and Gojo wants to rub his dick in it, maybe even wrap it around his cock. He bites his bottom lip at the idea and grunts, hips jerking forward in his chair and cum messily spilling into his own hand, “Your hair feels so good, Suguru.”

“Fuck you.”

“Sorry,” Gojo laughs, leaning over to grab a few tissues from the small box on the other side of his desk, “you want me to make it up to you tonight?”

“Yeah, you owe me.”

“Come to the fight club early, then. I’m sure I got time for you in my office there…” Gojo wipes his hands on the tissues, careful not to spill any cum on his shorts before he throws them into the trash can underneath his desk.

“What about Riku?”

“Keep her at home. Just put her to sleep or something.”

Geto huffs out a single laugh, “You want me to put her to sleep?”

“Yeah, the best way you know how.” Gojo says suggestively, “I mean you’ve still got extra muscle protecting your territory, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Well, then everything’s good and covered.” Gojo concludes with a small smirk.

“Alright. I gotta clean up the mess I made in the meantime.” Geto chuckles, “I’ll see you tonight, Satoru.”

“Later, Suguru.”

Later in the afternoon, after Gojo had driven Riku back from the gym and dropped her off at Geto’s estate, Riku found herself in the shower with Geto, again—the long-haired man having talked her into it for the second day in a row.

Riku steps into the shower and closes the door behind her, to which Geto curiously examines her reddened backside, “Shit, Satoru did this to you?” Geto smooths his hand over the curve of Riku’s ass, and she flinches from the soreness.

Geto clicks his tongue and gently tugs Riku close to him by her arm so that they’re both under the warm spray of the rain-style shower head, “You gotta tell him when he’s being too harsh with you, Ri.”

Ri looks to then turns away from Geto for a moment, shyly biting her lip out of embarrassment from his discovery of the marks Gojo had left on her. Though, Geto seemed more than comfortable talking about Gojo fucking her… This was a dynamic that would take Riku a while to get used to.

Geto smirks just slightly to Riku’s expression, sliding his hands up her wet skin to wrap his arms around her waist from behind her. He bends his head down to speak lowly into her ear, “Even if you like it, your body can only handle so much. You wanna soak in the bath after we shower?”

Riku turns her head back to face Geto as much as she can in their current position and nods a few times, before allowing her eyes to flutter shut to enjoy the heat of the shower water and Geto’s embrace.

Geto releases his light hold on Riku and she opens her eyes once more, turning to face him and letting the stream of water wet her hair. She gently runs her hands through her long curls and Geto’s smirk grows when he realizes something, “You’re way more agreeable than usual, aren’t you?” He runs the lengths of fingers underneath Riku’s chin, “Part of me’s kinda thankful for Satoru fucking you into submission…”

Riku feels her face redden even further, clearly embarrassed, “Can you stop saying shit like that?!”

Geto releases an honest laugh, lips curving into a toothy grin, “There’s my brat,” He swiftly bends and pecks her lips, “was starting to think something was wrong with ya, being so quiet.” Geto begins to reach up and rinse his hair in the shower’s spray, the colorful dragon tattoos on his arms and chest dancing quietly at the command of his rippling muscles beneath.

Riku rolls her eyes but then studies Geto movements as he reaches over to grab a few pumps of shampoo from the bottle from the ledge of the shower, appreciating the art on his skin. After working the liquid into her curls, Riku removes a hand from her damp hair to gently run her fingers down Geto’s chest, “I like these.” She says, simply.

“Thanks, beautiful. I like your chest, too.” Geto winks, shamelessly eyeing Riku’s body for a moment; after squeezing a few pumps of shampoo into his palm, he returns the bottle to the shower’s ledge.

Riku sighs, turning to get herself some more shampoo, “You know, you and Satoru are a lot alike, actually.”

Geto laughs, starting to lather the liquid into his scalp, “Ouch. That felt like an insult.”

“Not my fault you both are always spewing horny shit.” Riku shrugs, beginning to wash her hair as well, “I was trying to complement your tattoos,” she describes, turning back towards Geto, “how long did it take to get them done?”

Geto looks up, thinking to himself before returning his gaze to Riku, “Well, they’re various pieces I got over the past few years that each took months to heal, but just the hours of tattooing, altogether? Maybe like… 94-ish hours?”

Riku’s eyes widen with surprise, but also can understand as there’s hardly a millimeter of skin on Geto’s torso and arms that isn’t covered in ink, “Oh my god, that’s nearly four days… Did it hurt a lot?”

Geto’s smirk softens into a light smile, “Of course… But it’s something the male leaders in my clan have done for generations.”

“Really?”

“Really, Ri.” Geto chuckles under his breath, “C’mere.” He removes his hands from his hair to turn Riku around and back her into his chest, fingers already beginning to trail to her scalp and gently massage the shampoo suds at her curly roots just the way she likes, “Know you want me to do this, anyway.”

Riku’s hands fall to her sides in response to Geto’s sweet movements and she closes her eyes, “Mm… What’s your family like?”

Geto continues to massage his fingers in in Riku’s hair in small circles, “Normal. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. What was it like growing up?”

“You mean like my childhood? It was fine. My parents are good people, and they spoiled me a lot as a kid, until I started doing work for the family.” Geto removes his hands from Riku’s hair after a while and she turns to rinse it off; Geto follows suit.

Riku opens her eyes again after washing off her hair, glancing up at Geto, “What changed when you started yakuza clan work?”

“Well, I quickly learned how nasty this world of ours can be, that’s for sure. And the drug game already isn’t pretty on its own.” Geto admits, eyes still closed as he rinses the last of the suds from his hair.

“How old were you?” Riku can’t help her curiosity.

Geto’s face temporarily scrunches up in thought, “Thirteen, I think.”

“Fuck, that’s horrible…! You were just a kid!” Riku’s brows knit together, her eyes filled with concern.

“We’re yakuza, Ri. What did you think? That they would wait ‘til I’m 18 to teach me shit?” Geto pauses, eyes softening as he gazes down at Riku with a mixture of interest and some other emotion she can’t place, “Damn, you were sheltered a lot, huh? Must’ve been nice and comfortable growing up in a low rank family.”

Riku’s stomach turns a bit to Geto’s words, and her expression reflects it as she grabs for the conditioner, “Not quite. Though I don’t remember much, I did lose my parents due to yakuza-related violence when I was seven. Being born into a low rank family isn’t as comfy as so many high rank dicks from our syndicate make it out to be.”

Geto’s brows lift as he recalls this bit of information she’d told him and Gojo just a few nights ago, “Shit, that’s right—I’m sorry, Ri.”

Riku sighs and shakes her head, continuing to speak as she squeezes a few pumps of the conditioner in her palm before passing the bottle to Geto and working the cream into the length of her hair, “But just ‘cos I’m yakuza, doesn’t mean I agree with how our families do things. I know we deal in shady work, so danger comes with the job description, but there’s gotta be a better way… At the very least, when it comes to unnecessary violence.”

Geto pumps out a bit of conditioner for himself and places it back on the shower ledge before going to work on his hair, “You’re not wrong. 98% of the bullshit problems our syndicate deals with are over greedy pieces of shit who want one of three things: money, power, or a woman. Maybe it wouldn’t happen as often if we didn’t raise assholes who were baptized by fire.”

“Exactly!” Riku emphasizes, relieved that Geto had gotten her point. She lets the conditioner sit in her hair while she begins to wash her body, retrieving one of the cutely folded black washcloths from the ledge of the shower before dampening it beneath the shower’s hot stream.

Geto washes the conditioner from his hair, “Looks like you just got caught up in the drama, this time around.”

“Yeah…” Riku trails off, expression falling from her face as she looked down at the drain in the shower. She hadn’t really thought about the situation with Toji since this morning, even after meeting his son at the gym. Megumi was so different, after all.

“You doing okay?”

Riku sort of hates how honest Geto sounds, “As okay as I can be. Haven’t really thought about it much, honestly.” She reaches over to get some shower gel from one of the fancy, glass bottles, then lathers it up on her cloth before beginning to rub it and the soap over her arms. It smells heavenly—lightly scented with earthy notes.

“That’s probably for the best. Don’t let that bastard fuck with your head.” Geto grabs the other neatly folded wash towel from the ledge and wets it before doing the same, “And hopefully Satoru and I are big enough distractions.” He smirks just barely.

“Well, you all are doing an outstanding job at that.” Riku notes with a quick laugh under her breath, beginning to lather the soap over her chest and stomach, and bending at the waist to do the same to her legs.

Geto’s eyes study Riku shamelessly, nearly pausing in washing himself at the sight before him. He bites the inside of his lip and feels his cock twitch, “You need me to wash your back, babe?”

Riku continues to scrub at her legs, completely oblivious to Geto’s gaze as she had her back towards him, “Oh, that would be great.” She stands back upright and moves her conditioned curls over her shoulder so that her bare back faces him directly. Riku hardly turns her head as she offers her washcloth to Geto, “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Geto hums bright and affirmatively, but the dark and heated expression on his face that Riku can’t currently see completely contradicts it. He retrieves the wash towel from her, rubbing it over the smooth, café au lait skin of her back. He rubs it and the soap back and forth over her shoulders then down the length of it, feeling a familiar heaviness pool in his abdomen as his dick continued to harden. Geto pauses to rest his own washcloth over his shoulder, then continues to lather his way down to the small of Riku’s back and her reddened rear. He wipes the supple skin there sinfully slow, then purposely makes his dick jump so that it pokes the side of Riku’s ass.

Riku gasps, quickly snapping her head back towards Geto to find the cause of the poke—his cock fully erect and prodding firmly against her ass cheek, “Hey…! Stop being a horny bastard!” She teases playfully, only pretending to be annoyed. Riku gives Geto’s tattooed chest a good jab with her index before turning back around so he could finish washing off her back.

“Sorry, beautiful. Just seeing you turns me on.” Geto says lowly, pressing his hips forward ever so slightly. He twists and wrings out the soap from Riku’s washcloth underneath the stream of water, saturating the small towel with water again before reaching around the front of her hips and between her legs with it. Geto begins to gently rub the soft, warm cloth in deliciously light circles around her clit; he bends his head to speak into her ear, “Open your legs for me a little more.”

Riku exhales a moan and immediately follows his direction, breathing growing heavier to the feel of Geto’s other hand suddenly joining her bare backside and fondling the sore round of it, his dick still pressing firmly against the side of it. He moves his hand from her ass after a while, slipping it under her cheeks before pressing and slipping a single finger inside of her while the other hand with her washcloth continues to rub on her clit. Riku weakly groans this time, voice telling to her soreness from being fucked so hard earlier.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight…” Geto trails off, lips still at Riku’s ear and mind partly consumed with lust. He pushes and pulls his middle finger in and out of Riku’s pussy, “Is it sore, baby?” He coos.

“Yes…” Riku whimpers to the dull soreness that’s reawakened between her legs with Geto’s finger.

“Shit,” Geto just barely rolls his hips forward once, twice, three times, causing his cock to rub against Riku’s perky ass, “need you, Ri. But this hole is too delicious of a treat to devour all day every day.” He glances down, removing his finger from Riku’s pussy then using the hand to spread her cheeks apart and press the head of his dick to the rim of her asshole, “you like it back here…?” He’s unable to hold back the growing grin on his lips.

Riku gasps again, suddenly torn out of her budding arousal. She turns and swats Geto’s hand with the washcloth out from between her legs, “With your monster-thick dick, Suguru?! Absolutely fucking not. And we’re in the shower with no lube?? Are you crazy or something??!” Riku looks honestly shocked.

Geto lets loose a cackle at Riku’s reaction, even throwing his head back a bit as his voice echoes and bounces off the shower’s walls, “Come on, Ri, I was joking! But I’m sure you could take it with some training!” He guffaws the words out, smirking ear to ear as he placed Riku’s damp wash towel on the ledge.

Riku glances down to Geto’s prominent erection as she faces him, seriously considering its large size and girth. She shakes her head, “Yeah, even with plugs, and toys, and all the lube in the world, there’s no way my ass is ever closing again after taking that.”

Geto’s laugh diminishes into a chuckle and he cups Riku’s face in his hands, “Relax, Ri, I wouldn’t hurt you unless you wanted me to.” He softly presses his lips to her cheek and kisses it brief yet sweetly, “And I’m not a brute like Satoru.”

After they’ve showered and when they’re soaking in the outdoor, wooden, onsen-style bath, Geto wraps his arms around Riku and pulls her back into his chest. His hands ghost over her breasts and slip down her sides to rest on her hips, which he backs into the space between his manspread legs, “Lay back on my chest, Ri. You want me to finish what I started in the shower, don’t you?” He murmurs into her ear, teeth nibbling the rim of it as the water in the bath gently laps around them.

Riku reclines back and spreads her legs beneath the water so that the outsides of her thighs touch the inside of Geto’s, and he slowly glides both of his hands between Riku’s legs, fingers lightly trailing over her groin. His right hand finds Riku’s clit, and he gently rubs the pads of his fingers in small, practiced circles over the hardened nub of flesh.

“Oh—” Riku moans out, biting her lip to cut herself off. Her breathing grows heavier, and her chest rises and falls on top of Geto’s.

Geto’s lips remain at Riku’s ear, and he takes a slow breath before blowing it warmly, “Don’t hold back, Ri; talk to me. I wanna hear that pretty voice of yours.” He continues to lightly rub her clit, his tongue finding and darting over the heated slope of skin just beneath her ear. Geto kisses down to the crook of Riku’s neck, left hand slowly slipping up and out of the water to palm and squeeze her breast.

“Hah, Suguru…” Riku pants out, eyes fluttering shut to concentrate on Geto’s touch. His low voice ringing in her ears, soft lips on her neck, warm chest pressed flush against her back, long fingers toying with her nipple, thick hand between her legs… Riku felt completely consumed by the man and didn’t want him to stop rubbing her clit so perfectly, “A little harder, please?” She whines, starting to rock her hips forward into Geto’s hand, over and over.

Geto hums out a chuckle, lips parting from Riku’s neck after a long kiss, “Demanding, aren’t we?” Geto carefully presses his fingers just a bit harder to Riku’s clit, picking up the speed of his circling as well. He straightens his neck and cocks his head to one side to study Riku’s every reaction to his movements, “How’s that, Ri?”

Riku again can’t help but hate the honesty in Geto’s tone—like he really cares so much about her pleasure; it’s as if Geto knows exactly how to drive Riku crazy, both physically and mentally. She simply moans to the perfect friction Geto creates between her legs, cheeks flushed deep red to the bit of embarrassment and immense heat that courses throughout her body.

“You’re not gonna answer me?” As if a switch had flipped within him, Geto’s voice suddenly turns dark and is nearly venomous; and a pleasant shock of adrenaline shoots down Riku’s spine to focus in her abdomen. He suddenly stops, removing his right hand from between her legs, “I’m not asking for a lot, Ri.”

“No—yes!” Riku quickly opens her eyes and moans the words out, grasping Geto’s right hand with her own and directing it back between her legs again, “It feels good… Please keep going, Suguru!”

Geto snickers into her ear, “You’re so fucking greedy.” He spits the words under his breath, relenting to return his fingers to Riku’s clit and begin rubbing it again, “See? Was that so hard?”

“Shut up.” Riku complains breathily, simultaneously turning her head back towards Geto’s to press her lips to his in a kiss that immediately turns lewd. Geto’s left hand releases Riku’s breast and instead grasps her wet curls at the root, continuing to speed up the circling of his fingers between her legs. Riku moans into Geto’s equally open mouth, tongue swirling with his as she feels his dick twitch against her lower back beneath the water. She moves her hips even more, the pace of her rolling increasing as she rocks into Geto’s hand. The sense of overwhelming pleasure hits her abruptly, and all of a sudden, she’s on the edge of her climax. Riku parts her lips from Geto’s, brows quivering together and jaw falling open with gratification as a long moan spills from her mouth, “Fuck, Suguru—gonna cum really hard…!”

“Yeah, Ri?” He murmurs lowly into her ear, voice sultry, “Show me how good I make you feel.”

“Ahh…!” Riku cries out at the command of Geto’s fingers, hips jerking and body convulsing on his with each wave of her orgasm as he continues to rub her through it. Her head feels light and spacey as she comes down from her high, and she sinks further into the hot bath water.

Geto laughs at first, thinking it’s just Riku being dramatic, but then stops and quickly locks his arm around her waist before her head slips completely under the water, “Whoa, Riku—careful, babe. You okay?”

Riku turns in Geto’s grasp, weakly wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head beside his. She grumbles as she wraps her legs around his waist, “My head’s been hurting today, and I’m sleepy now.” Riku whines her complaints a bit childishly.

Geto sighs, rubbing his hands up the smooth skin of Riku’s back, “So you want me to baby you?”

“It’s called aftercare!”

Geto chuckles, “Guess that’s fair after what Satoru put you through today… And that asshat hardly has the patience for shit like aftercare.” Geto sits up and pulls back just enough so he can look into Riku’s eyes and places his hands on her cheeks as he speaks, “But don’t worry, beautiful. You can always come to me after Satoru’s rough with you. I’ll take care of you.”

Riku can’t tell if Geto is playing with her or if he’s really being truthful and it pisses her off—but she feels a strong pull in her chest after hearing his words, regardless, and that’s even worse. What’s wrong with me?! She thinks, making a funny face at Geto in response. Her eyes twitch with a mix of agitation and adoration and her lips quiver in and out of a hard line.

Get laughs once to this, “What’s that face?”

“Nothing!” She hides her face once more in the crook of Geto’s neck.

Geto shakes his head with a smirk, slowly rising from the bath water with Riku in his arms, “You’re the strangest girl I’ve ever met, Ri.” He steadily steps out of it, “Let’s get you outta here.”

Riku is startled awake by her ringtone chiming, stirring beneath the covers of Geto’s bed and glancing around the room to orient herself when she realizes he’s no longer there. Her phone continues to ring, and she blinks sleepily a few times, simply staring at the device that vibrates rhythmically on the nightstand in the distance. Riku reaches over and picks it up, seeing the name ‘NANAMI’ flash across the top of it before swiping her finger across it, “Hello?”

“Hey, Ri. You alright? Haven’t heard your voice in a while.” Nanami’s rich, deep, and husky voice comes through the line, and Riku can’t help but appreciate its hypnotic nature as her eyes are heavy with sleep.

Why does he have to sound so damn good all the time? She nestles her ear a little further into the phone speaker as she reclines back into the sheets again, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Wait, were you asleep?”

Riku sighs, rubbing her eyes with her free hand, “Mhm, what time is it?”

“It’s hardly midnight. Sorry, Ri, thought you’d still be awake on a Saturday night.”

“S’okay. Fell asleep really early since my head was hurting. Probably would’ve messed up my sleeping schedule if you didn’t call.” She clears her throat, voice still a little hoarse.

“Where’s Satoru and Suguru? They treating you well?”

“Um, I don’t know, actually… maybe working? Suguru was here earlier, but I think he’s gone now. And they’re treating me fine.”

“They left you alone? Hm, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“There’s plenty of guards, like at least 50 around and some even inside the house, so it’s fine. Plus, it’s Geto’s territory. It’s supposed to be hard to get here without being noticed, right?”

“Yeah, it’s supposed to, but we should stay on the phone until one of them comes back.”

“Ken…!” Riku whines, rubbing her fingers into her temples tiredly, “That could be hours!”

“You don’t have to say anything—you can even fall asleep. Just stay on the line with me to be safe, Ri, okay?”

“Fine.” Riku sighs and taps the speaker icon on her phone before navigating to her iMessages, seeing that Geto had sent her a text about going to the fight club for some quick business, “Oh.”

“What?” Nanami asks, curiously.

“Suguru texted me. He made a quick run to Satoru’s fight club.”

“Huh.” Nanami says, sounding as if he’s lost in thought.

“Ken?”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about the yakuza fight club?”

Nanami takes a long pause before speaking again, “Truthfully, Ri—it’s way too dangerous of a place for you to be.”

“Okay, going in the club is one thing, but I couldn’t even know it existed at all? How does that make sense?!” Riku sits up in bed a little, notably agitated.

Nanami sighs, “I was just trying to keep you out of that kind of trouble. I mean you know yourself best, Ri. Can you really blame me for not letting you hear about it?”

Riku boils with anger, “It’s not my fault I get in trouble all the time! It’s almost always some yakuza asshole’s fault, every fucking time! And you know it!” She tosses the phone—still on speaker—on the pillow beside her and crosses her arms over her silk robe-covered chest, “And you have the nerve to blame me for fighting back when people try to hurt me, verbally, physically, or whatever?!!”

“Riku—”

“How dare you! Meanwhile you’re having the time of your life bashing some random yakuza muscle’s head in and getting paid to do it, right?!”

“…Satoru told you that?” Nanami asks, voice calm, in complete contrast with Riku’s.

“Yeah, he did, actually!”

“That was before I worked for your family, Ri. I needed the money. I did what I could to survive.”

“Then work at KFC or something!”

“KFC?” Nanami sounds confused, then stifles a chuckle, “I couldn’t work a job like that. Fighting is the only real thing I’m good at.”

“No, it’s not!” Riku protests, voice still raised.

Nanami sighs again, “Then what am I good at, Ri?”

She tugs at a curl that rests on her forehead, finally lowering her tone back to its normal volume, “Protecting people.”

“I’m glad you think that about me. Lately it seems like I’ve been messing up on that quite a bit, when it comes to you.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job, in my opinion… you’ve just got an unlucky yakuza girl with an attitude as a client.” Riku rests her head on the pillow, just beside the phone. She stares down at Nanami’s name that flashes across the call screen, sort of wishing she could be near him.

“Client and friend.” Nanami clarifies.

Riku smiles, allowing her eyes to flutter shut at the sound of that, “Mhm.” The two are both quiet for nearly a minute, but Riku speaks up again, “Ken?”

“Yes, Ri.” Nanami coos smoothly in his velvet tone, and Riku enjoys how loyally he responds to her.

“Tell me a story.”

“You want me to read you a bedtime story? Riku, you’re 25.” Nanami doesn’t laugh, but she can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Whatever! You have a nice voice for it, so just tell me one. Tell me… a crazy story about a fight you were in.”

“Oh, you like my voice, hm?” Nanami deepens his husky voice when he speaks.

Riku clears her throat, feeling her cheeks redden, “The story, Ken!”

He chuckles honestly, a truly rare occurrence—and Riku is nearly surprised by the sound of it, “Okay, alright. So, one night, when I was at a bar with Satoru and Suguru…”

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dollygirl808 · 1 year

Text

This is just a lil excerpt from the first chapter of a story I'm writing rn, called A Monster Ensemble. It's not out anywhere yet or anything, just wanted to share.

It's not anywhere near to being done yet, but. Yeah. I liked the kinda yandere vibes Bear (horror sans) was giving in this, so I wanted to share it. I may or may not have been influenced by a song I discovered recently that I love called the red means I love you, it's honestly so good and I love yandere vibe songs and yandere vibes in general.

(Lowkey wanna write a song fic but it's in the am's and I was supposed to go to sleep hours ago)

While the story isn't planned on being yandere, Bear will def have massive stalker/obsession vibes. But everyone else not as much, probably.

I adore yandere bois so much so it'll probably leak through more than I intend to. And Bear is super duper capable of killing ppl, and of course has, given his past.

And, do I have a size thing? Maybe.. he's only like. 10ft tall. And I only mention it like no less than 10,000 times.

Okie enjoy <3

Bear watched his tiny bunny from the other isle, his massive hulking frame easily seeing over the shelves even with his more hunched posture, his one good eyelight trained on her like, well, a predator.

That's what he was, wasn't he? A killer at his core, a vicious monster who could easily rip her flesh right from her bones, then break said bones with only two fingers. The tip of his lengthy bone tail twitched in aggravation at the thought, he didn't want to hurt anybody, especially not her.

His soulbond.

He was glad his brother wasn't here to chastise him for watching the girl from across the store like a creeper, because he really, really couldn't help it. She just looked so soft and fragile all the time.

Her little brown tail, a little heart-shaped fluff against the top of her ass, so small and cute. Above what was, of course, his favorite part of her squishy body; her rather round and thick thighs.

They squished together and against eachother as she adjusted her standing position, one leg barely lifting off the ground to tap her foot against the floor as she thought, the rapid motion making her plush thigh jiggle.

His slit-like pupil zeroed in on the movement for a moment, before his eyelight wandered the exposed length of her thighs and legs, racking over every curve of of flesh like he didn't see her in her work uniform often.

A light grey pair of denim overalls that hugged the curves of her ass and thighs perfectly, and was starting to fray in between her thick thighs.

Sometimes he wondered how her tiny fragile bones didn't collapse under her own weight.

Human bones just so small compared to his own, after all, and even though he was a twisted, corrupted version of his smaller self, even their bones were thicker and sturdier than humans.

Which of course, was an opinion he would never dare voice.

Eve was sensitive about her weight, after all. Which, he didn't really understand himself. What could be bad about having a lot to eat? It's a sentiment all of his clan had, a shared confusion at human's want to eat less and diet when they had access to all of the food.

Heh. Humans were weird like that.

One day, He thought, I'll be catching prey for you, my bonded. And Paps'll cook it, and she'll eat it, and he'll be the happiest monster on the earth, surface or otherwise.

He smiled lopsidedly, single hot-red eyelight going fuzzy and his cat-like slit of a pupil engorging until there was nothing but a ring of red on the outskirts of his love-strucken socket as he watched his little bunny fus over how many pots to buy for her future catnip plants.

Stars, she was so cute when she was trying to make a decision on something so impossibly mundane like it was the single-most important decision in her life, he could feel his cracked soul flutter happily, and call to her without meaning to.

And that's when she turned around, cute little eyebrows pinched in confusion at the tugging she felt in her chest (from her soul, but she didn't know that yet,) And her vibrant bubblegum pink eyes met his single eyelight, which immediately snapped back to its normal slit-like state.

He straightened his spine, head and shoulders rising above the top of the 7ft shelf, and her eyes followed, watching him dwarf the shelf with his massive 10ft frame with what could only be described as morbid fascinating.

She smiled warmly at him, welcomingly. And a twinkle of something more caught his attention in her expression. Something Bear easily recognized as lust.

Even if it was just a small amount of misplaced curiosity, whenever he displayed or did something to accentuate his overwhelming height and mass, she always got this look of want across her cute rounded features.

Like she was thinking about climbing him like a jungle gym, and that look pleased him greatly, so he made sure to stand tall and loom over her whenever possible.

So, maybe the bunny had a bit of a size kink? Little prey, lusting after a monster like him. It made him chuckle silently to himself.

Like a mouse watching a bear, the mouse couldn't possibly understand the danger she was in, and because a bear would never bother chasing after or catching prey as un-filling as a mouse, the mouse had no instincts to run. And the bear simply wouldn't be bothered by it just sitting there, as completely non-threatening and miniscule as it was.

Of course, this particular Bear had great interest in catching the little prey that was too caught up in his unsual and rare appearance to be fearful, and he would take great pleasure in playing a game of cat and mouse, chase her like prey, and when he caught her, he'd absolutely devour her without hesitation-

"Hey, Bear! Getting more plants for your garden of eden?" Eve asked with a teasing smile, and he blinked a few times as he processed her question.

"Yeah," Was all he managed to force out, but she didn't mind, and she just smiled bigger at him, her eyes nearly closing from the sheer intensity of it.

It made his soul flutter again, and also call out to her again, stronger this time. She made no outwardly acknowledgment of the feeling, aside from her left ear and her nose twitching at the same time.

Which, he found absolutely adorable and his pupil started to swell again with mirth, before shrinking back. "What.. ya doing?" Bear asked, as If he hadn't been stalking watching her for the past 30 minutes.

"Oh, I'm trying to decide how many pots will fit on my windowsill." She said, thumbing behind her to the brownish-tan pots on the top shelf.

Which were well out of her reach, and he thought about how he could offer to get them for her, and she'd be very thankful. His eyelight glowed momentarily with excitement at the thought.

So, he started walking to her isle, long, thick legs bent at impossibly inhuman angles making quick work to get rid of the distance.

Legs that were apparently 'digitigrade,' she had once told him when he asked if his appearance really didn't bother her.

"What? Of course not, Bear!" She had balked, tone offended, almost angrily so, as if she could ever thing something so horrible. "You look fine! I think having a super long, prehensile tail is pretty damn cool. And your legs are like, digitigrade! And your clawed feet remind me of a dragons, which are super duper cool, by the way."

That really wasn't the answer he had been expecting. "Pretty damn cool" was not an sentence he would have ever used to describe himself before that. But it made him so happy at the time.

"Heh... think so?" He had asked, tusks stretched wide in a pleased grin, eyelight trained on her so intensely it made her little bunny-heart race, and she had pouted at him and asked if he was just fishing for compliments.

He wasn't, but the angry stomp and huff she let out was too adorable to correct, so he agreed.

If he could still teleport at will, he probably wouldn't bother walking so he could be close to her sooner. But alas, he had lost that ability due to the incident, or more specifically, the massive hole in his skull.

Eve turned and contemplated the pots again, brown fluffy ears rotated fully forward in pure concentration.

Bear stopped next to her, body facing the isle, but eyelight watching her think. His tail came to wrap loosely around her boot-covered ankle, something he did often, and she didn't even spare him and ear twitch in his direction.

So, unafraid. A pleased smirk tugged at the sides of his tusked mouth, watching her be so comfortable next to him that she didn't even twitch at him wrapping her ankle up in his deceptively strong tail.

Stars, if he could be any happier his soul would probably leap from his chest and try to enter hers. He wondered if she would accept that.

"Three," Bear said simply, grufly, his deeper-than-normal voice a product of his harsh time underground. Just another corrupted deviation from the original Sans that made him so...

"You think?" Eve asked, looking up at him as her ears relaxed more to the side and her head tilted ever-so slightly to the side as well.

He only nodded, already reaching above her head to grab three of the pots and hand them off to his tail, gently curling into and around the small plant plots before setting them on the bottom shelf of her cart.

She huffed out an air of amusement from her nose, rolling her eyes, trying and failing to suppress her smile.

"Thank you, Bear," Eve said genuinely, setting a small hand on his radius, one of the two thick bones that made up his 'forearm.'

"No," He paused for longer than he ment, brain suddenly forgetting the word, but she didn't frown at him, or try to rush or finish his sentence for him, just waited and looked up at him with that gentle, patient smile is that nearly made him forget what he wanted to say.

"No, problem," Bear finished after a moment of staring at her face.

"Well, that's the last thing I needed. What are you shopping for? I could help you. Although, I dont know how helpful I could be given my apparent Black thumb," Eve rambled a little, and he couldn't help but find that adorable as well.

"Flowers," He told her, and she nodded.

"Something colorful for spring?" She offered, and he nodded, "Want me to walk with you?"

"Please," He said, and offered his arm, which she took without hesitation.

He smiled, and his tail let go of her to wave behind him happily as he grabbed the cart's handle with both of his massive hands, taking up all of the bar space.

So she was left to fiddle with the edges of her overalls pant leg while her other hand wrapped around Bear's blue jacket sleeve and they walked side-by-side, mostly silent.

Eve would occasionally make a comment about a particularly vibrant or pretty flower, and he would just nod along, or grab it and put it in his own cart, which he tugged behind him with his tail.

She tried to take her cart back a few times, but he just stood still while she tried to muscle her way, or pry his sharp claws off the bar, with zero luck.

She gave up after a few times and let him pull and push both carts, but made sure to express she could handle her own cart.

Bear bent down to grab the largest size of garden soil they had, a massive bag the size of Eve's chest. He picked it up with one hand, setting it in his cart without trouble.

The bunny tried not to gape at his strength too much, but she probably wouldn't even be able to pick up something that heavy, and he did it easily, single-handedly. It was hard not to be impressed.

"So, what kind of flowers are you looking for?" She asked, turning to face him as her free hand continued stroking the petals of a particularly soft plant.

"Looking for pretty," He said while staring down at her so intensely it made her look away.

He had to be doing that on purpose, right?! Neck bent completely so his skull was parallel to the top of her head, and he was looming over her, literally blocking out the bright lights above them and casting her face in a shadow as she tilted her own head fully back to look up at him.

It wasn't threatening in any way, but, fuck, it was really, stupidly hot. Did Bear even have the ability to think about doing something like that? Or was his habit of staring at her silently, so intensely her face flushed, because of his injury? He stared, seemingly expressionless to onlookers but she had gotten used to his subtle body language.

Most of it was with his eyelight and his tail, anyways. His tail would wave back and forth when he was happy, and sometimes even thump on the ground, bump into things or knock things onto the ground. The tip would twitch when he was mildly annoyed, and his entire tail would lash back and forth in a whip-like motion when he was pissed, which wasn't often.

His general cat-like slit in the center of his white-to-red gradient eyelight would grow rounded when he was particularly happy or content, or he saw something he really liked, like after a meal, or when she did something he found particularly cute. It would shrink to be skinnier and longer when he was angry, and it would become football shaped when he was concentrating, get shorter and rounder.

"A-are you looking for a particular color, Bear? Like blues, purples, pinks?" Eve asked, stuttering only a little at the beginning.

The monster stopped leaning over her, sitting back further and making himself a little smaller. "Pink. Pretty pink." He said simply.

"Pink is a great springtime color!" She squeaked out, and tried not to think about how he was grabbing lots of flowers with petals that matched the shade of pink in her eyes. It was just a coincidence, pink was a spring color, after all.

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raggedy-dxctor · 2 years

Text

Fluff Alphabet w/ Peter Ballard

pairing(s): peter ballard x gn reader

warnings: unbelievably sweet and tooth rotting fluff, a smitten and very lovesick peter

A - Attractive (What do they find most attractive in a person and about you?)

he finds your laugh and loyalty unbelievably endearing

B - Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why Not? How big?)

ummmm i can't see him like wanting one? i think he's be too worried about the possibilities of passing the powers on

C - Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How do they like to cuddle most?)

if he's in private with you and not cuddling up to you id be suprised. he really doesn't have a preference for cuddling with you, as long as the two of you are alone and im eachother's arms he's content

D - Date (Ideal date?)

honestly just like anywhere away from the lan, i can see him struggling to pick pit date ideas because he's just so spoilt for choice and wants to give you the absolute best

E - Energetic (How energetic are they?)

ummm isd say moderate, i think he's more often calm, but he gets excited quite easily

F - Fight (How are they in a fight?)

awful. he's so scared of loosing you but sometimes just lashes out, he's never ever hurt you physically or insult you though

J - Jealousy (Are they the jealous type? How do they deal with it?)

very jealous person. he'll never express or act on it though because he knows he can trust you

K - Kiss (Their favorite way to kiss you?)

either on the lips or nose, he loves really long, slow kisses because they're just so emotionally vulnerable and it makes him feel so safe. he'll lean his forehead against yours afterwarda and close his eyes as he pacefully sighs

L - Love Confession (How did they confess their love?)

he keeps it in for so long because he's scared of driving you away or putting you in harms way. he probably left it up to you to make the first move but at the first show of reciprocation it all came spilling out and he told you how long he'd been in love with you

M - Mean (What are they like when they’re mean? Is it common?)

peter is never mean to you, he'd rather live the life of his father, locked up in prison for a false crime with no eyes, than hurt you

N - Nicknames (Do they have nicknames for you? What are their favorites for them?)

"my love", "dear", the classic lovesick nicknames

O - Open (How long did it take for them to open up to you?)

id say a while, and you probably stull don't kmow everything now, but that's not because he doesn't trust you, he trusts you 100%, he just doesn't want you to share the burden of his past

P - Proposal (How would they propose? Would they propose at all?)

i'm not entirely sure, probably not at all- i think he'd more ne one for like intimate personal promises that you'll spend your lives together, rather than official and old fashioned ones infront of crowds

Q - Quiet (What are quiet moments like with them?)

utter peace. comfortable silences with are like walking on clouds or embracing an angel. they're so comforting

R- Rainy Day (What are they like in the rain?)

i think he really enjoys watching the rain, i dount he'll ever go out in it because he rarely has the time and probably isn't allowed to leave the facility

S - Sad (How do they handle their sadness? How do they react to yours?)

not great, but he'll always tell you. he doesn't really know how to handle his emotions so help from you is always appreciated immensely

T - Time (How long did it take for you to get together?)

after the confession? it took a few days to make it official. but before? years.

U - Unique (What’s an interesting thing about them that not a lot of people know about?)

it's actually super easy to make him blush, like compliment him or suprised him wih a kiss and he goes beet red

V - Value (What are some of the things they value most in life? value most about you?)

your patience and loyalty. it's so refreshing to be loved by someone like you and just feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his chest

W - Wildcard (random fluff headcanon)

nothing gives him butterflies as much as when you run your hands through his hair after a really long day. gently and slowly guiding your fingers throgh his soft hair as he lies his head in your lap makes him go so giddy he can hardly control what comes out of his mouth

X - XO (Are they affectionate with hugs and kisses? If not, are they in other ways?)

very very very affectionate. hugs, kisses, hand holding. he's the sweetest lover when it comes to physical and even emotional affection. // "i love you, peter" "and i you, mu love" he fondly smiles as he squeezes your hand and stares into your eyes, kissing your cheek before guiding your head to rest on his shoulder

Y - Yearn (How do they deal with yearning?)

if he's working and yearning for you it's overwhelming. he'll usually just rely on memories of the two of you together or quick smiles at you from across the room as the two of you trued to act professional.

Z - Zen (What makes them calm?)

just being in your presence. listening to the sound of rain. peaceful silences. being alone with you after a long day

#peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things spoilers

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thealphagym · 10 months

Text

Becoming Alpha!

I Begin...

This has been coming for over 3 months now. Every time he is around, I can't take my eyes off of him. I know he sees me, but I don't care and oddly enough, it seems, neither does he. He is the largest and most incredible looking man I have ever seen. He is so thick with muscle that you'd think that he could barely move, but he is an incredibly agile giant. He’s limber and he stretches better than most. It's as if he has the accelerated body of a gymnast, but with huge balloon-like muscles. He's cut and inhumanly huge, looking like a Superhero. He literally looks like one of those morphed guys that you see online on the Muscle Growth sites, but he's made of real flesh and blood. All of the woman and most of the men fawn over him like bees to honey, but when I'm there, it seems his attention is on me, just as much as my attention is on him. It's uncanny, but I feel he is there just for me.

He is an Asian man, but I'm not sure what ethnicity, nor do I care. He is simply marvelous: Dark wavy hair, skin like bronzed butter with intense features and a square jawline. His piercing ocean blue eyes that see deep into your watery soul and lift you out of the depths of your normal life. Those sensuously deep red, plump, delicious looking full lips, that caresses the air of which he breathes with a hypnotic cadence of sound that soothes your inner demons and raises your hidden desires. His upper arms are at least 30 inches around and his forearms alone must be 20 inches thick. Arms that could crush a man ribs into dust with just the slightest hug, but would rather lift a man to new heights. His chest was like a pair of life preservers made of steel, with nipples that are brownish and as big as a baby's pacifier, which hang down, like fruit on a vine, due to the weight of his massive pec muscles.

He never wears a shirt, mainly and honestly, because I don't know of one that would fit him. He comes into Alpha Gym from the outside shirtless, even in the winter and it's as if the weather doesn't even phase him. I was sure his skin was impenetrable. He was always in skintight shorts, of various colors, so he must change them. Normally shorts of that size, I'm guessing at least a 5XL, but probably larger, would hang loosely on anyone else, but on him they literally look painted on, and that's not just an expression. You can see every muscle move under those shorts...EVERY muscle! His ass was as large as small suitcase with two huge basketball sized rocks for buttocks. His shorts were pulled so tight across them that there was an open gap where his ass-crack began, that would easily fit a hand down in it loosely, letting you see and feel the beginning of paradise. The front of his shorts is obscene even beyond porn’s highest standards, with his package protruding at least 8 inches out from his body and hanging about the same 8 inches down between his legs. The mound was filled with a cock that stretched the fabric around it leaving nothing to the imagination and the visibly lined head actually rested below the largest balls of immense glory I have ever witnessed. His thighs are, each, larger than a Great Dane's torso and with each step or movement of them it shows the muscle cords through his bronze translucent skin. But his legs were, other than a small tuft of black hair under his arms, the most prominent area of his body that had a thin layer of hair running over it. In fact, there was actually more than just a trace, though It's not noticeable until the light hits it just right, of a smooth field of golden fur covering his lower body, so even though he looks smooth as silk, he is covered in micro hair. I have come to realize he does not shave, but why shave...why do anything to take away of the mighty being that he was.

Yes, I have noticed him and studied him that closely, but from afar. I've watched every movement, every nuance, every justification of how incredible and otherworldly he is. You would think that he would be gawked at or even made fun of, but everyone just treats him normal, albeit if normal was acting like schoolgirls meeting the high school quarterback. To be in his presence is to be in the presence of greatness. No one challenges him and no one gets too close to him, but everyone knows about him, and most are drawn to him. You can tell that any who see him, want to be with him, to be important to him. Me? Well....there is no doubt that I'm drawn to him, but here's the thing, I should mention that I'm not gay, or I don't think I am, because honestly, since I can't get him out of my head, I just don't know anymore. I've begun to dream about him, both day and night. I've looked at other guys, big muscular guys, just to see if I'm attracted to them, but...well...I don't think so. Sure, I appreciate them and, I'm sure due to him, I would love to feel their power, but it's more of an idol/worship thing than it is sexual in nature. With him? There is this presence of feeling whole and longing that I can't seem to shake or what too, for that matter. Plus, I'm guessing all bets are off, because from the very moment I see him, my cock gets so hard it hurts and the throbbing of it, travels through my entire body, as if my whole body has an erection.

When he is around, my workout feels amazing. The pump I get is more than any other time that I work out when he's not near me. Is it because I want to impress him or is it something else? But My God...When I'm near him, I have gained more muscle and strength, faster than ever. Each time he's in the gym at the same time with me, I literally gain about 20-25lbs of hard muscle. I have gone from a middle-aged plump man to a well-toned muscled, contest ready bodybuilder...and it's all happening within the last 3 months, since I've seen and been around him. As well, I think even my cock has grown an inch or two as it was thicker in my hand and to pump it, I could now use 2 hands. Also, every time he is near, it's not just like I said about getting so rock hard, it's that I have no choice but to beat off in the showers. It's uncontrollable. I literally don't care about anything else, just getting that feeling of power and pure ecstasy. It's a feeling that is beyond a regular orgasm. It's as if, when I cum, I go to another plane of existence. The moment the water hits me, I begin my ritual of self-worship. I pinch my nipples and feel my new harder, bigger muscles than I had when I came in that day. I play with my entire body, edging myself and even fingering myself. I get loud, but no one seems to care. In fact, I get off on the fact that I know others can hear me and it makes them horny. I get hard as ever as I feel a power course through me that drives me mad with ecstasy. My orgasms are doubled in intensity and the amount of cum in me has tripled, as I paint the shower walls and then without even losing momentum as I'm still in a type of sexual frenzy, I lick the walls and myself clean of my cum. The taste of my cum only makes me hornier in a vicious cycle that I can't escape. Sometimes, even one orgasm isn't enough, as I shoot 2 or 3 times until I empty my newly larger ample nuts. Lately, I've thought more about some of the other guys, and I'll leave the curtain open as I self-love having them watch me from their stalls. Their admiration gets me off, too.

So yeah, I can't explain the feeling inside me when he is around me. I'm totally energized, horned up beyond belief, stronger than normal and I feel I could fuck a hole through a wall. Some of the other muscle guy's asses have made me think, "Hey, it's just another hot hole that needs filled. They would be blessed to have my cum enter them, but I haven't gone there...yet. It's as if his mere presence changes me and I'm completely giving myself to it. Last week, he talked to me and told me how proud he was of my growth in size and strength just in the past few months. He really talks to anyone. But then he did something that no one else, that I have ever seen, had happened too. He touched my shoulder and an electric feeling of power and strength that ran through me almost made me pass out. Visions soared inside me, and I looked up at him as I sat on the weight bench, as at that moment, I knew I was his. He knew it was well as he passed his magic to me, in that moment of touch, everything to get me ready for what was to come. All he said to me was, "Soon". I had no idea what he meant, but at the touch of his hand and his word, I got harder than I had ever been almost immediately, and I shot a good-sized load inside my shorts without even trying. He smiled and walked away, but he looked back and winked at me, to which I had my second orgasm within less than a minute after the first. You would have thought I'd be exhausted, but it was the complete opposite. I had never felt more energized, and I worked out for 4 hours that night, with a hard on that would not ebb, until the gym was almost empty. What the fuck kind of power does this man have over me, I thought, but at the same time, I didn't care. I wanted more. I went to get a drink of water and got up the courage to go and talk to him, but he was gone.

I continued to workout for about another hour and then I went to take a shower. Since my hard on would not go down, I... well, let's just say I got a few strange looks, but a couple of the looks were of a definite interest which only made me hornier. What the fuck? I was getting sexually aroused by the other guys and I was completely giving into it. One of the guys actually said to me that I was totally fuckable as he grabbed my rock-hard ass after I had stripped down in the locker room. I quickly put on my towel, but at the same time I wanted him to continue to touch me and more. In fact, I could feel the precum leaking out of my cock under my towel as hand continued to fondle me. I excused myself by saying, "Soon" (Hmm, that was odd) and I walked to the showers. As, I passed another guy, in his shower stall, drying off, I stopped when I heard him gasp and mutter under his breath, "Fuuuckkkk me, daddy". I noticed how thick and muscled he was (which I barely ever would have done before) and I smirked at him as I took off my towel, playfully revealing my hard muscled body and rock-hard dripping cock. I licked my lower lip and motioned with my eyes looking down his chiseled body. He responded by licking his lips at me and looking around as if to see if anyone was watching. "Wanna wack off?" was all he said and honestly, a few months ago, I would have been appalled and disgusted, but now, I completely welcomed the man's advances and I desired to stick my cock down his throat or up his ass. I started jerking my cock for him and he reciprocated. As we both began the ritual, I looked down the shower stall hallway to see the ass groper and another hot well hung black man, watching me as I stepped into the stall, I turned on the water and didn't close the curtain. Both men were hard as rock and seemingly not a bit worried about anyone else that might have seen us. In fact, all 4 of us acted like the world was only us at the moment and no one else mattered.

The second the water touched my body, I shot a large wad of precum out into the shower stall hallway, and I heard the black man say, "Fuck, did you see that?" to the ass groper. I looked over at my other admirer and he was jacking his cock like a fucking rabid animal. He was moaning loudly as I yearned for his body, which was hairy and thick with muscle and his cock was very thick with full ripe balls that yearned to explode their cum. There was no doubt that I yearned for him, but I felt he yearned for me even more and that was even more of a turn on. I wanted to fuck him and fill him with my cum. I wanted him to eat my ass and suck my cock. I wanted to own him. In fact, I wanted all 3 of them. I needed them to worship me. I felt a new power inside of me. It was a power of dominance and control. I was the one they all wanted, and I was gonna give them all of me. I was the Alpha and these...these things...were mine to use and control. My level of excitement rose in tornado of desire as I began to jack my cock as well. Using both my hands which didn't entirely cover my shaft, I pumped at him like I was going to fire my cannon across the hallway to put him through the back wall. He was definitely impressed by my body and the look on his face was the most incredible look of yearning for someone that I had ever seen. He began to moaning even louder as we fist fucked ourselves. The other two men couldn't care less about being discreet as they came over, standing outside of my admirer's stall and fist pumped their own cocks. The sounds of masturbation rang through the stalls and locker room. The wet slapping of skin and the intense crazed moans of a fire that was unrelenting coursed through us. My main focus was on my shower admirer, but I could also hear the satisfied and yearning moans of the other two men as they joined in harmony. The feeling of one of my new super orgasms was quickly rising and I yelled to them that I was close, pointing with my free hand for the three of them to kneel in front of me. Without hesitation, shower stud bolted out of his stall and the other two joined him, reaching me with a fervor I had never seen before as they knelt, with a bang on the tile floor, in front of me. Their mouths opened and I plunged my cock deep in my admirer, just in time for my first huge eruption ever into a man. At that very moment, I knew I was gay. I had always known it, but never accepted it. Now I relished it. Now, I let it all out.

He tried, but he could not take the amount of cum that was jettisoning out of me into his mouth. He swallowed as fast as he could, moaning like a cow as my pearl white jizz ran out of the side of his mouth and down onto his furry chest rug. Both the other men began lapping up the excess cum from his chin, mouth and chest. Then in response, he began to buck his hips as volley after volley of cum shot out of his cock coating my legs and feet. As I continued to cum in my loyal subject, I opened my eyes as I welcomed the site of both Ass groper and the black man kneeling in front of our stall as they too were cumming aIl over each other. After we all had expelled our cum for that round, I motioned for the other two men to join me in my stall and for the next 2 hours more cum was ingested and impregnated into my loyal subjects than I thought I was able to produce. I must have cum at least 8 times, each time with only a slight less of an amount. By the eighth orgasm I was cumming like that of a normal man. All 3 of these normally macho, viral muscle studs were completely under my spell, like my own little piglets. Oddly, a spell that I never knew I had the power of, but now I had an abundance. I was now a changed man, no, I wasn't a man any longer. I felt as if I was a God and I could have most any man I wanted. I knew it. I felt it. My Asian God had given me a gift that was the most amazing gift a man could possess. That night, I went to a gay bar for the first time, and I must have fucked, either orally or anally, about 15 men. My cum production never stopped, either.

The next day, I didn't see my Asian God, but I could literally, feel him everywhere I went: At the restaurant, at the bank, at work, and then especially at the gym. I had sex 14 times that day, once with the busboy, 3 cooks and 3 waiters at the restaurant I went to for lunch, twice with my boss at work and once again with the bank manager. I was their Alpha and they were my subjects. As well with each one, my power inside grew as I did as well on the outside. By the end of the day, my clothes were so tight that I decided to talk (or rather fuck the gym manager) into letting me work out in the gym after it had closed. Without any disturbance from subjects or without the confines of clothing, I worked out nude, cumming all over in the gym as I lifted. Then it happened.

I felt myself changing again...but not just physically.

As I was taking my shower for the night, I felt him. He was inside me now, but not literally. He was in the shower stall next to me and I practically blacked out when I first felt him. It was when I came the first time. He never said anything out loud, but inside me, as I continued to masturbate, without having control of myself, I felt him. My screams of euphoria filled the building. I think I must have had an orgasm 5 times in that shower in about 15 minutes. Finally, I felt his orgasmic hold on me leave my body and I turned off the water and collapsed on the floor. When I regained some my strength a few moments later, I opened the curtain and left my stall. Instinctively, I opened his shower curtain 2 showers down and there he was. He was even bigger than I had seen him a few days prior. He had been bent over to hide himself from my sight before, but now he stood up. He was well over 8 feet tall, and I would have guessed around 600lbs of pure muscle. His cock was beyond immense, being at least 16" long and 10 inches thick, and he was not hard. I thought to myself of a few days ago, as I gazed at him in servitude, "You touched me and..." He interrupted my thought and said out loud, "Your Welcome" and smiled. His voice literally shook the building. Then he motioned for me to come closer to him. He kissed the top of my head and even though I was an Alpha to anyone else that would have crossed my path, I was the loyal subject when it came to him. I was his servant. I was his little piglet.

He held my head and softly raised it up to look deep into the eyes. No... into my soul. Then, this colossal, 600lb, 8-foot giant then picked up my, now, 290lb body, by my head, as if I were a feather, to meet his gaze directly across from him. As I looked into his blue horizon, a warmth came over me and I shivered with joy as I knew I was finally meeting...my maker. He didn't even have to squeeze my head, to hold me up, as it was a light touch with no pain at all inside me, just an incredible warmth. I knew my feet had left the floor, but I wasn't afraid for falling back down. Instead, it felt euphoric. I felt as if he were to let me go, I would simply float in front of him. The most amazing part though was that I felt his power coursing through me. I felt his inhuman strength and his calmness of purity and truth. I felt like I was in a constant state of orgasm, but it something that was sustainable. A controlled euphoria. I still felt human, but more than that. I knew my body was now superhuman and that of a God, but now, with his touch, inside my mind and my soul, I felt myself progressing to all knowing and omnipotent. Man was no longer and would never again be a threat to me. Like him, I knew that I would never die. I would never get sick. I would never again feel pain. As he changed me, he not only improved me, but he cleansed me. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to tell me what I was becoming. I knew...and also, I knew my place. I knew he had chosen me and only me. I knew I was to learn from him. Yes, the gym was empty, and it was only he and I, but honestly, we could have been in Times Square, and wouldn't have mattered. It was only us. We at that moment were the only true beings in the world. If you would have been there and seen us, our light would have blinded you, but not harmed you. This world, our world was gone for that time. I was in another realm, his realm.

He let go of my head and I literally floated down onto my feet. He told me with his eyes to obey his every thought as my journey was far from over. I knelt in front of him at the precise moment that he thought for me to kneel in my mind. I did as I was told. I don't know how, but I knew where this is going, and I welcomed it. I yearned for it. He is a God and, even though I would now be considered a God in the eyes of most, I was still insignificant. He was all that matters. Soon, I will learn. Soon I will join him as an equal.

Soon...I will become, Alpha.

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whiskeynwriting · 2 years

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Are y’all ready for chapter three of My Best Friend’s Dad? 😏

Teaser below 😉

(~1k words)

“If we’re separated, then why are you still wearing your ring?”

His eyes immediately shoot down to his hand, uncrossing his arms and setting his left palm on his desk. His next words are quiet.

“I’ve been wearing it so the girls don’t find out before we tell them.” he then looks up at her, raising a brow. “Do you want to tell them now?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, David. This isn’t happening, and you know it. So, why don’t you stop being so dramatic, and realize that you aren’t ever going to take it off because you don’t wantto take it off.”

With that, she turns, smirking to herself at Dave’s shocked expression as she moves to leave the room.

“I’ll see you at dinner.” The words end their discussion, or argument, or… whatever just happened.

He’s shocked, honestly. His blood boils with rage, with the need to prove her wrong. How could she be so fucking arrogant after all they’ve been through?

Dave looks back down when his phone lights up, the buzz drawing his attention. The notification alerts him of his upcoming conference call in thirty minutes, accompanied by an alert prompting him to swipe back to your Instagram account. You’d just made another post, one to your Instagram story, actually. Apparently, you’d gone to Florida for spring break with a few of your teammates last spring.

“Fuck,” he whispers, glancing over at his watch to check the time. Twenty minutes.

Without another thought, he reaches down, quickly moving to unbuckle his belt. Regardless of his more than unpleasant interaction with Carol, he’s still half-hard. He can thank his two hours of edging for that. The only thing that stops him though, is his ring.

It’s almost too easy for him to slip it off, swiftly pulling out his top drawer and dropping it inside. With a hard slam, he’s back on his phone, heart pounding in his chest. He’s never taken that ring off before, not it was put on his finger on their wedding day. But something about it feels incredibly freeing, like a massive weight has been lifted off of his chest.

He props his phone up in front of his computer, staring at the picture you’d posted on your story. You’re wearing a bikini in the photo, much more revealing than the one-piece he’d seen you in before. As soon as that thought pops into his head, so does the memory of you showing him your bare chest. His eyes momentarily close, re-opening when he lightly spits into his palm. He smears his saliva over his tip, his erection having fully returned. Dave watches himself do it, lips parting as he takes in the sight and feel of the liquid on his cock. Slowly, he places his fist over the top of it, sliding back his foreskin until he sees his tip peak out. Slippery pearls of liquid seep out, a deep feeling of arousal already growing at the base of his spine. And with the thought of your tits mere inches away from his face now roaming freely in his head, his eyes flicker back up to his phone, scanning your figure as he begins squeezing himself tighter.

It looks like your muscles have become more pronounced since this photo was taken. You did tell him how hard you had been working during the summer, after all. He thinks about that, about how your body looks when you move, how you’d look naked in his hands. He knows that if he ever got the chance, the first thing he’d touch would be your breasts. It took everything in him not to do it that day, trying to take your overt teasing like a man instead of giving into his needs like the teenage boy you’ve managed to bring out in him.

You looked so fucking soft, so velvety smooth, so valuable to his touch-starved body and mind. He’d cup them gently in his hands, weighing the shapely curves in his large palms. And then, he’d curl his fingers, really grabbing you the way he wants. When he does it, he imagines you’d moan, imagines that your lips would part slightly as your head tilts down to watch him do it. His thumbs would stroke over your nipples, the thought of it making him throb in his fist, continuing to pump himself at a rapid pace. Maybe you’d let him fuck them, let him sit up on your chest and place himself between your tits. You’d push them together and he’d lean forward, sliding in and out of the soft curves he already loves. He’d thrust against you, sliding in and out of the warm crevice your hands and chest create, your breaths pushing slightly against him with every pretty, little gasp.

It feels different, he didn’t think it would but it feels so much different. The cold metal of his ring no longer reminding him of his tie to Carol while he thought about you, the engraved lines it in no longer rubbing against the skin of his hand and cock. He feels like his own person right now, feels like he can do what he wants. Jesus Christ, he wants you.

He's already close, he can feel it. He imagines looking up into your eyes, his own roaming your beautiful face. He’d allow his sense of sight to indulge in you while his sense of touch was overwhelmed by your body. Grunting stiffly, head thrown back once again as he tries to keep himself quiet, he cums, mind teleporting himself to a place where his white spend littered your chest instead of his hand, a place where you’d open your mouth and lay out your tongue to catch any stray drops. You’d hold him there, moving yourself with him until he’s overstimulated and jerking above you at your touch, gasping out at the feeling, heart pounding in his chest as he watches you let him defile your beautiful chest.

“Fuck, fuck.” Dave’s jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck straining as he moans and whimpers at the touch of his hand.

But of course, it’s not really his hand, at least not in his head. Ever since he met you, he’s imagined every single touch on his body, every single pleasurable sensation he feels, every single joyous emotion in his mind, to be from you.

General Taglist: @anaaaispunk @dihra-vesa @sweetangel0069 @coaaster @pepascalhoe @evyiione @bport76 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @mswarriorbabe80 @just-here-for-the-moment @nagassia @phnyx @woomen23 @hotchlover @balekanemohafe @misscampacyn @practicalghost @pedrostories @xxxroxsxxx @thatpinkshirt @weepingsoulstranger @hauntedmama @atjoyfilms @toomanystoriessolittletime @lovesbiggerthanpride @luciandrine @my-blink-romance @pedropascalswife @ms-loverman-066

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Best Friend’s Dad Taglist: @phnyx @woomen23 @hotchlover @balekanemohafe @thewilddingleberries @amirra88 @misscampacyn @almaascencio @nagassia @pedrostories @xxxroxsxxx @singular-itae @thatpinkshirt @weepingsoulstranger @hauntedmama @anaaaispunk @punkerthanpascal @1andthesame @atjoyfilms @yourwonderbelle @moralesfish @large-juice @gracie7209 @almaeunice @theherothesavior @samzie @lovesbiggerthanpride @luciandrine @my-blink-romance @fatimaisabelpascal @mandinlore @pedropascalswife @ms-loverman-066

#ooh I'm excited #my best friend's dad series #mbfd series #dave york #dave york x you #menswear #dave york x female reader #dave york smut #dave york imagine #dave york fanfiction

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

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Contact Comfort

Spencer Reid x (gender neutral) Reader

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: None, really? Emotional hurt/comfort and sorta like a touch starved deal doing on, but it’s pretty thoroughly fluffy and sugary-sweet.

A/N: For the “bed sharing” square on my @cmbingo card!

Title is from the referenced psych study, because I’m a dork.

“One sec,” you call, wincing at how thick and nasal your voice sounds.

You wipe your cheeks hastily as you sit up. It’ll be obvious anyway, though; wouldn’t take a profiler to notice your tear tracks and blotchy face.

It’s Spencer. Of course it is — because he’s the last person you want to see you like this, when you’re all snotty and puffy and gross.

His eyes go wide and solemn when he sees your face, genuinely distressed. There’s that empathy again, the too-big heart that everyone seems to overlook in favor of his big brain. You love him for it.

Well, you love him for a lot of things.

“Hi,” he says quietly. “I was going to just ask if you were okay, but… I guess I don’t actually need to ask now.”

You let out a watery little chuckle. “Guess not.”

“You want some company?” He looks hopeful, almost, and then seems to catch himself, dropping his gaze with a shrug. “I understand if you just want your space, though.”

If it was anyone else, you absolutely would not want company right now. But it’s Spencer, so. You pretty much always want him around.

“I was just about to turn on some shitty TV because it felt too quiet in here, honestly. Company would be really nice.”

He gives you a quick twitch of a half-smile as he steps past you, and after you close the door, there’s a pause where you both stand there and look at each other, Spencer suddenly shy as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, in a thin unhappy voice.

“Not really. Just… one of those days. One of those cases.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

You hesitate, because it seems like such an immature thing to say out loud, but you’re too tired to be anything other than honest.

“I could use a hug.”

Spencer’s expression goes all soft and sweet, and your cheeks feel hot under the drying salt water as he steps closer. He wraps his arms around you, and you bury your face in his chest and try to inhale. Your exhale is a ragged little shudder, and you fist both hands in the back of Spencer’s cardigan as you cling to him, feeling raw and sensitive and so very young.

He lets out a quiet, shaky sigh of his own, squeezing you tighter.

How long has it been since anybody hugged you like this? It’s like the contact — the warmth of him — the pressure of his arms around your shoulders — the rise and fall of his chest under your cheek — is lifting some massive weight you never realized you were carrying. All you want in the entire world is to hold him tight, take the comfort while you can, but you know you should pull away.

He hesitates for a second before releasing you, like maybe he doesn’t want to let go either.

Then he’s stepping back, hands in his pockets, slightly pink-cheeked as he bounces on the balls of his feet and gives you one of his frog-faced not-quite-smiles.

“You said something about shitty television?” he asks. “Or maybe we could watch some television that’s not actually shitty?”

“That sounds perfect.”

Turns out Planet Earth is on, which is the rare overlap in your and Spencer’s tastes, and it’s not until you’re eagerly toeing off your shoes that you realize the bed is the only seating option.

Spencer sits cross-legged, with his elbows on his knees and his chin propped on his fists, and he stays as close to the edge of the bed as physically possible. You lean back against the headboard and hug your knees to your chest, feeling the need to hunch over, like you could physically protect your heart.

Then again, it’s much too late for that. You knew your heart was in trouble the moment you met Spencer.

Today, especially, you already feel vulnerable, like all your carefully-constructed walls cracked open the second you let yourself cry, and now you’re just ripped-open and bare. You need a good night’s sleep and a long, hot shower before you’ll be able to go about your life as a professional, fully-functional, grown-up human again. Right now you’re just kind of a mess.

“I know there’s the germ thing,” you blurt out, without looking at Spencer. “But —”

His laugh sounds crackly and nervous, but relieved, like maybe he’d been holding his breath. “Come here.”

You give him a grateful smile as you scoot closer to each other, and apparently you’d been so worried about your own swollen eyes earlier that you hadn’t noticed the fatigue evident in every drawn, wan line of his face.

Not that he isn’t still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

You duck tentatively under Spencer’s arm, and it’s not like you’re cuddling, exactly, because there’s still an inch or so of space between your hips and legs… but the bony plane of his chest, between collarbone and heart, makes a surprisingly perfect pillow. You pull the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, tucking them under your chin, curling up.

The moment feels delicate, like a soap bubble that you could burst if you simply breathe too loudly, and you hold yourself stiffly, at first, not wanting to move any closer for fear of pushing a boundary. It feels like you’re glowing at the points where your bodies are touching; the warm weight of his arm feels like bright spring sunshine across your upper back. His palm on the round of your shoulder is thawing away the last chilly bits of your self-consciousness.

When the commercial break starts, Spencer says, “Do you ever think about how little physical contact the average single adult experiences on a regular basis?” His voice is quiet and almost sheepish.

You smile. “Yeah, I’ve considered it.”

“Especially when we live away from our families,” Spencer says wistfully.

You can feel the vibration of his words in his chest. You shift, making yourself more comfortable, feeling dazed and dumb with his proximity.

“The monkeys. I feel like — you know?”

“Harlow. I know exactly what you mean.”

Trust him to get that from your ridiculously vague mumbling.

“Except they’re babies,” you add.

“The emotional benefits of physical touch don’t decrease just because we get older,” he says softly. “It’s just that the fear of judgement makes it difficult to be honest.”

There’s silence for a minute as the show starts again, and David Attenborough says something about sloths. Spencer’s thumb strokes your shoulder gently, back and forth, soothing. It’s hypnotic, and the tension drains from your muscles, leaving you more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You swallow hard. “For what?”

“Being honest.”

There’s no reason for your eyes to be stinging like this, but they are. “I should be thanking you.”

“Nothing to thank me for. This is… really nice.”

“Yeah. It really is.”

He’s quiet again.

Spencer smells like vanilla and old books — although the latter might just be your imagination, something to do with the power of mental association — Spencer could probably explain the science behind that. Your brain has them inextricably linked, though. You’ve caught hints of that smell before, but never up close like this.

The softness of the worn knit of his cardigan makes you want to rub your cheek against it like a cat. His arm, skinny as it may be, feels like protection — like you’re safe here.

After the brutal violence of the case and the emotional turbulence of the day, this quiet, golden moment is even more breathtakingly peaceful by contrast. It doesn’t feel real.

It’s too good to last. This isn’t yours. It’s not going to last, no matter how right it feels, and your chest already aches with the idea of letting him go.

You try to appreciate it while you can, to remember every sensation, but your body is leaden, exhausted down to the bone, completely drained of whatever adrenaline-stubbornness-caffeine combination was keeping you running until now. Spencer’s thumb rubs invisible circles on your shoulder, and he breathes evenly, and you feel safe.

You’re asleep before the next commercial break.

A distant car alarm wakes you, sometime later. In the handful of seconds before it’s turned off, you come to without opening your eyes, trying to remember where you are and who you’re with. The smell of vanilla makes you relax instinctively, before you can process why.

Spencer has all but melted against you in his sleep, soft and boneless. He’s got both arms around you now, holding you close, his breath tickling your forehead. Then he stirs, and you can feel the moment he realizes where he is, because his muscles go tense as he freezes.

“Sorry,” he murmurs hoarsely. He’s barely audible over the infomercial voices coming from the TV. “I didn’t mean to — sorry. I’ll go.”

And before you can think better of it, you whisper, “Don’t.”

He’s still frozen, and silent for a second that feels like an eternity. “You mean —”

“I don’t want you to leave. Stay.”

Honesty seems to be your default setting tonight, and anyway, you can tell without looking at a clock that it’s long past midnight, well into the early-morning hours where boundaries and reservations and reality don’t seem to follow their usual laws. You can’t lie to him (or to yourself) right now.

Spencer’s voice cracks as he says, “Okay. I’ll just — let me get the light.”

You don’t open your eyes as he slips away. This all seems like a dream, and the sharp bright lamp light might make it dissolve around you. You might wake up.

The TV goes quiet, and when you tug at the hotel comforter, sliding between cool sheets fully clothed, the barely-there rasp of moving fabric sounds loud in its absence.

Spencer turns off the lamp, and you open your eyes. You can just see his shape as he navigates the dark room, negative space on a charcoal backdrop, but as your vision adjusts, you can see a faint suggestion of his features in the blue-black.

You feel it, though, when his weight makes the springs of the old mattress dip. You’d expected him to lie on his back again, but instead his face is just inches from yours when his cheek comes to rest on the pillow. You feel the way he’s breathing, quick and shallow and nervous. You feel your heart kick in your ribs, thudding so loud he must be able to hear it.

He reaches out slowly, hooking an arm around your ribs, and pauses with just the very tips of his spidery fingers touching your back, between your shoulder blades: five soft points of contact that you feel so intensely they might as well be electrode pads connecting you to a defibrillator.

This is crossing a line, and you both know it.

It’s not a sexual touch, it’s not that sort of thrill going through you, but something about this feels profoundly intimate. That intimacy is almost more shocking than lust might’ve been, and it’s much more dangerous. It’s the sort of closeness you don’t walk away from unscathed.

Spencer’s fingers flutter, butterfly-wing delicate, like one or the other of you might be trembling.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he whispers.

“Yes.”

Maybe you’re both trembling.

His palm comes to rest on your back, easing you closer, and you shift, settle, readjust. He pulls back and tilts his head just long enough to brush his lips over your temple, soft and sweet, before tucking you neatly under his chin, where you fit like you were meant to be there, with your nose nudging at the gap between his collar and the delicate skin of his throat.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers, sounding just as awed as you feel.

“Sweet dreams, Spencer.”

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message!

More Criminal Minds fic is here.

#cmbingo21 #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

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enhalovebot · 3 years

Text

moonlight ੈ☪⋆｡

➻ yang jungwon x reader (gender neutral)

➻ fluff

➸ ˗ˏ ➶ [☁️]. ✧ ˚

⤷ over the course of your relationship, you never thought you’d love the nicknames that came with it. no matter how cheesy they can get.

Never would you have thought that you’d end up with Jungwon. The boy was so reserved and quiet when you first met him that you didn’t notice just how cheeky and playful he could be. At first, it wasn’t noticeable at all, but after some time, it gradually became very apparent. It started with something simple.

Bubs.

It was a lazy afternoon, and the rest of the boys were out, claiming you both deserved some quality time. Either that was the reason, or maybe Jungwon might have shoved all of them out the door. We will never know. But you’re just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

“Hey, bubs? Can I lie down there?” Jungwon pointed at your lap. He didn’t notice the nickname. It just slipped out. But judging by your reaction, he may use it a couple of times until you're ready to blow up from the heat flowing in your cheeks.

“Yeah, s-sure.” You adjusted from your previous position, allowing him to lie his head on your lap. The moment his soft hair made contact with your pajamas, you knew you were doomed. Jungwon made himself comfortable on your pajama-clad thighs, enjoying the feeling of being loved as he is.

“We should do this more often, bubs.” There it was again. It was a simple nickname, yet it brings so many emotions you can’t control. “I agree,” you replied as you carded your fingers through his soft hair.

Babe.

It has been a while since you’ve seen Jungwon since both of you have different schedules, and finding time together is starting to get a little bit difficult. And now, for the first time in months, you finally found the time to visit the boys.

“y/n’s here! Make way losers!” Ni-ki excitedly pushed the door open to let you inside. Sunoo pulled you in by the arms in an attempt to hug you but was quickly interrupted by Jungwon, who whisked you away from the other boy’s arms. And the next thing you knew was the smell of familiar cologne.

His cologne.

“That’s not fair. You always hog y/n all to yourself when they visit.” Jake called Jungwon out from the couch, while the others only smirked in return. It was obvious the boy missed you. He missed you so much that he didn’t mind the countless teases thrown at him.

Whatever, Jungwon thought. He’ll deal with them later.

“I missed you so much, babe.”

There folks, is an arrow straight to the heart.

Darling.

You stood on the pavement waiting for Jungwon to meet you at the bus stop. He initially planned out a date, but it seems like he’s running late. Tirelessly, you sat down on the metal seats, moving your feet back and forth. Sounds of vehicles passing by kept you occupied as you waited for him.

You were expecting to wait for another ten minutes for Jungwon. However, sounds of aggressive panting came your way, followed by frantic footsteps. You glanced up to search for the source of the noise, and lo and behold, there he was. His hair was a mess, strands all over the place. His navy blue sweatshirt was ruffled and disheveled. And his shoelaces came loose by his furious running. And to top it all of, his flushed face matched his flustered state.

“I’m here, present.” Jungwon bent down, putting his hands on his knees, taking in massive inhales as he caught his breath.

“What happened to you?” You patted his back.

“Just took care of something.The guys were chasing me, kept asking me where I was going on a Saturday.” Jungwon met eyes with you, lifting his hand to caress your cheek.

“Glad to see you made it out alive.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, darling.” He slyly wrapped his strong arms around your waist as he emphasized the word ‘this.’ “Let’s get going, yeah?”

Cheeks.

“Hey, y/n?” Jungwon’s booming voice resonated from your doorway, feet planted on the floor in a stiff stance. You hummed, not looking up from your laptop. “Hmm?”

“Can you do the thing?” Jungwon drags his feet on the ground, shoulders slumped. “Do what?” Your eyes connected with his. There was a pregnant pause in the air as he carefully chose his following words.

Jungwon fiddled with his shirt, wringing the material in nervousness. He didn’t know what’s happening to him. His heart was going crazy. “You know..” He shifts from his weight on his heel. “Can you do the thing?”

Your eyebrows arched in confusion before it finally clicked.

Oh. The thing.

A smile slowly formed on your face as you stared at Jungwon, who was now sitting on your bed. He leaned in, eyes sparkling in admiration. “There it is. There’s the thing.”

“You feel better now?” You raised a hand to brush away the strands from his eyes.

“Yeah. Thank you, cheeks.” He suddenly stood up, racing out the door. But he made sure to give your cheek an affectionate squish before exiting the room.

Honey.

“Jungwon, have you seen my blan-” You paused, cutting yourself off as you saw Jungwon wrapped up in your favorite blanket on your bed. “Nevermind, I found it.”

Jungwon rolled on his side to face you with his face squished on the mattress. He looked adorable. “Sorry. It’s so soft I couldn’t help myself.” He paused and looked up at you in realization. Jungwon slowly raises the blanket, “Wanna share?”

A chuckle left your lips, shaking your head at his cheekiness. Jungwon happily invited you in his warm embrace once you started getting comfortable in his arms. “This is nice,” you yawned.

“Right? I could get used to this.” Jungwon hugged you even tighter.

Your breathing evened out as time passed by, and this didn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon. “Sleep well, honey.”

Buttercup.

You were laid down in the middle of the living room, bored out of your mind. “This is so boring.” You said, dragging out your words.

Jungwon, who was sitting down on the sofa, judged you in your current state, his eyes full of judgment as he looked you up and down. He didn’t mean to do it, he just loves seeing you react with just his eyes.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You snapped at him.

“Like what?” He grabbed the remote, switching to different channels as he did so, searching for something good to watch. Jungwon doesn’t meet your eyes, though he feels like burning from your gaze.

“Look at me, Won,” you sat up, arms folded over your chest.

Jungwon mindlessly allowed his eyes to meet yours. “What?”

“See? Stop looking at me like that.” You pointed out the way his eyes stared at you with so much judgment.

Jungwon laughed upon seeing how you reacted to his staring. “You’re cute, buttercup.”

Angel.

Sounds of sheets shuffling emitted from your phone speakers, “Why aren’t you asleep yet, angel?” Jungwon placed his phone on his bedside to see your face better.

You released an exasperated sigh, “I got a lot of work to do.”

“You can continue doing it tomorrow. You need your rest.” Jungwon insisted on the other side of the screen.

“But I can finish it tonight if I stay up a little longer,” you took a glance at your screen to see, Jungwon already looking at you with a stern gaze.

“Go to sleep, angel. It’s past two am already.” He reasoned with you once more.

You bit your lip as you contemplated the consequences. If you get to sleep now, then maybe you’ll have more time to do your task. Then, on the other hand, if you don’t go to sleep now, you’ll have to face headaches the next morning. And for sure, you also have to face the never-ending speech Jungwon prepared for you.

“Fine, I’ll go to sleep.” You settled your things away, cleaning your desk of the mess you created.

“Goodnight, angel.”

“Goodnight, Won.”

Love.

“Don’t come near me!”

“Love, you’re being a dramatic mess right now. It's just a cold.” Jungwon placed his hands on his hips as he stared you down from six feet away.

“You’re gonna get sick if you come any closer.” You dramatically swatted your arms in the air.

Jungwon howled in laughter, shaking his head in feigned disappointment. He loves you so much, honestly.

“Nothing will happen to me, love. Put some faith in me.” Jungwon ignored your protests as he brought himself closer to you, not stopping until he was face to face with you.

Heat came rushing to your cheeks when you noticed him come closer to you. So, you lifted the sheet up to your face, hiding from the boy in front of you.

A teasing chuckle slipped from his lips. Jungwon slightly tilted his head to the side. “Hm? Why are you hiding from me?” His hand came up to gently tug the soft material off from your face.

You mustered a weak reply to save yourself from embarrassment. “No... I’m sick.” Your voice muffled under the blanket.

“Don’t get all shy with me now.” Jungwon grinned at your actions. All he got in reply was a slight nudge, indicating you said ‘no.’

Feeling his lips on yours left you speechless because it wasn’t really a kiss. But it had the same impact. The things Jungwon does to you.

Again, he shakes his head while giggling like a fool. Jungwon tipped his forehead on yours, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, which was covered by the sheet. “Get better soon, love.”

Starlight.

Music blared from the studio, booming like there was no tomorrow. Noises of shoes squeaking against the floorboard kept you going. But mostly, it was because of the boy dancing in the middle of the room. He had a smile painted on his lips, his eyes full of love, and his hands were reaching out to you.

“Come dance with me!” Jungwon ran to you, his hands holding yours as he spun you around.

You laughed at his antics. There was no other place you'd want to be. Being here with him was enough. Maybe more than enough. The both of you continued jumping around the room, not counting it as dancing anymore.

The song soon goes somewhat quiet, building up to the beat drop. Jungwon drew closer to you, preparing for the right time for the bass to drop. You stared back at him, confused as to why he also went quiet.

“Baby, you’re my starlight,” he perfectly timed his actions to the beat. And as the beat drops, Jungwon tugs you closer, giving you a light peck on the nose. Then, the sudden urge to get him flustered washed over you. “I think you missed,” you pointed to your lips.

Jungwon chuckles at this, but nonetheless, he still pulled you in for another kiss. This time on the lips.

Moonlight.

It was late.

Like, really late. But that didn’t stop Jungwon from dragging you out to the night. “Isn’t this fun?” Jungwon spoke with a mouthful of noodles in his mouth, making his cheeks look even more adorable than it was before.

“Chew your food, love,” you patted the stains away from his cheeks. Jungwon’s heart almost leaps out of his chest from how beautiful you looked under the convenience store lights. Simple is a word he associated with you. He loves the simplicity looming around you, reminding him that he is human too.

Both of you were in some 24-hour convenience store, spending your extremely early morning together. “Want some?” You pushed a plate of sandwiches. Jungwon shook his head, instead, he picked up a napkin and proceeded to dab away at the stain you didn’t notice you had.

“You got a little something…” Jungwon’s voice faded into a soft whisper as he concentrated on wiping away the mess on your chin.

“And... Done!” He threw the tissue, shooting it straight in the bin. You continued to stare at him while Jungwon went back to eating his meal. He didn’t notice you until he peered back at you from the corner of his eye.

“What?” Jungwon asked, unknowingly tilting his head a bit to the side.

You shrugged, “Nothing.”

“What is it?” Jungwon scooted his chair closer to yours.

“I’m just glad I met you.” You couldn’t meet his eyes. So, you fixed your gaze on the table in front of you while you fidgeted with your long sleeves.

There was a profound silence.

“I’m glad I met you too, moonlight.”

You almost flinched at his voice, seeming that it was so quiet before he spoke up. But something felt new.

“Moonlight?” You questioned.

Jungwon nodded, “You make me want to give you my heart, y/n.”

“Well then, you’re my moonlight, too.” Your hand traced the dimples slowly revealing themselves as Jungwon smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world.

They call me moonlight, too. Jungwon smiled at the thought.

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beforeoursunsets · 3 years

Note

aud. i'm so obsessed with literally EVERYTHING on your masterlist. ugh chefs kiss af. as for the request: since i haven't seen this trope on your account yet, what about some good ole amnesia? like one day draco gets wiped OUT by a bludger, wakes up, and forgets being in love with the reader. i just know you'd do this justice ILY

Amnesia - d.m

a/n: hiiii anon! tysm for the love you are so kind and i hope i didn't totally butcher this request!!! also im too tired to come up with an original title,, lol enjoy <33

house: slytherin

word count: 1.7k

warnings: just amnesia but idk if that counts, oh and a sorta open ending dont kill me

-----

You almost fell out of your seat, a cry escaping you as Draco plummeted nearly fifteen meters to the grass below. The astounding crack and thud sent the entire stadium quiet, Madam Hooch and her surrounding professors racing to the unconscious blond.

“Is he…” Pansy breathed, “...alive?”

Concern, etched on both of your faces, felt like a complete understatement compared to how you actually felt about the incident. Grabbing the coat you’d almost left behind, Parkinson followed along as you went straight for the infirmary.

Minutes later she had to slow down, unable to keep up with your running pace. Once she was finally able to catch up, Pansy found you bickering with Madam Pomfrey, begging her to let you inside the hospital wing.

“No you listen,” The matron scowled, “you can visit him tomorrow morning. Mr. Malfoy needs ample time to rest.” She said with finality.

You gave up, irritably walking towards your panting friend while dragging her back in the direction she had just come from. Tears stained your cheeks, but the weeping was gone momentarily, replaced with newfound disdain for Madam Pompfrey.

“She won’t tell me anything.” You complained, pacing in the Slytherin common room. “From what I know they could be embalming him right now!”

“Y/N, I think we both just need to relax right now. I don’t think Draco’s dead,” Pansy reassured you. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

After a long night of restless tossing and turning, you were out of bed the minute the sun rose. Thankfully it was a Saturday, and with no classes to attend you could spend the entire day in the hospital wing. Once you were inside, she would have to drag you out of there herself.

You pulled one of your boyfriend’s sweaters, holding it close to you as the cold morning air nipped your skin. With your best friend at your side, you pushed open the infirmary door, eyes searching for the injured boy.

Madam Pomfrey motioned for you to stay quiet, narrowing in her eyes as she did so.

You found Draco quickly, as he was the only other student in the room. His arm and left leg were bandaged up, his neck in a brace to hold it steady. The mere sight of him made your knees grow heavy, threatening to send you to the ground if you weren’t clutching onto his bed.

Pansy put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, “Hey, look, he’s waking up.” She whispered.

Slowly, his eyes opened, grimacing at the room’s lighting. Draco looked down at his hand entwined with yours, hesitantly recoiling it.

“Pansy? What’s going on?” He asked, his voice raspy.

You were almost taken aback. Never had you been insecure about his friendship with Parkinson, but it was like he didn’t even see you standing beside him. She looked almost uncomfortable, dealt with his awkward inquiry.

“One of the Ravenclaw beaters took you down with a bludger…” She prompted, trying to kickstart his recollection of last night’s quidditch game.

“Oh.” He responded simply.

“Are you serious?” You cut in, “You almost died and that’s the best you can say?”

Draco had finally made eye contact, looking back at you incredulously, “Why are you wearing my sweater?”

“And why is L/N even here?” He asked Pansy, turning away from you.

The matron picked up on the conversation, now concerned herself. “Miss L/N, I think it’s best for you to leave.”

“Of course I’m here, I’m your girlf--”

“I said, I think it’s best for you to leave.” She reiterated.

You were utterly confused, sending Pansy a look of near despair. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Leave. Now.”

After you had begrudgingly left the hospital wing, Pansy stayed behind as requested by Madam Pomfrey. Draco had seemed to recognize his friend, unlike you, who had only befuddled him.

She pulled your friend to the side, beginning to explain Draco’s condition now that you were out of sight. “I’m starting to believe that Mr. Malfoy here has suffered a brain injury after his fall. For how long have he and Miss L/N been together?” She inquired.

“Over a year,” She responded quickly.

Returning to his bedside, Madam Pomfrey began asking Draco a series of questions, trying to pinpoint how far his memory had recoiled. “What year are you in?”

“Fourth, obviously.” He drawled, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“And what was the last thing you remember?” She prodded.

“The goblet of fire,” Draco responded, “bloody Potter managed to cheat the damn thing.” He spat.

Pansy looked at Madam Pomfrey with concern, that had happened two years ago.

“Would anyone care to explain what bludger you’ve been blabbering about? And why has L/N stolen my jumper? Can someone tell me what’s going on!” Draco quickly grew frustrated by the women’s secretive conversations, demanding answers at once.

“Draco,” She began, “you’re a sixth year--and Y/N--she’s your girlfriend.”

-----

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember me?” You cried out in exasperation.

“He knows who you are,” Pansy explained, “he just has no memory of your relationship. It’s like he’s still a fifteen year old.”

Never had you imagined Draco could forget you so suddenly, so entirely. It was like one of your worst nightmares had sprung to life. “I need to talk to him.” You responded, getting off your bed.

He had been released from the hospital a few hours prior, now on strict bedrest. You knew he’d be in his room, and luckily, you had a key.

Unlocking his bedroom door, you knocked on the oak wood as it slowly creaked open, signalling that someone was there. “Draco?”

He was laying on top of his comforter, nose buried in his journal. Clearly he was trying to piece together the last two years of his life, your life together. You had hoped that something in there could possibly trigger his memory, a hope that would only set you up for disappointment.

“You can come in,” He spoke gruffly, his eyes still trained on the ivory pages littered with his handwriting.

You sat at the edge of his bed, the distance between him and you feeling so foreign. “I write about you a lot.” He almost chuckles, scanning one last entry.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head regretfully, “No, I don’t.” He apologized, “But I really wish I did, honest. From what it looks like, I was seriously in love with you.”

I was, his voice repeated in your head. Who would’ve thought that one sentence could pierce your heart so deeply. “If it helps--” Draco piped up.

“I still fancy you, even now--or back then--I don’t really know how to talk about it.” He rambled, somehow eliciting a small laugh from you.

“Well I’m just happy to hear you confirm it, I’ve always had my suspicions about our timeline.” You smiled softly, the air filled with a bittersweet tension.

“You know, I can come back.” Getting back on your feet, you went for the door, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

Draco held a hand out to stop you, softly closing the journal to his left. “No, don’t go.” He pleaded, “I have so many questions.”

You sighed, tentatively sitting back down a few feet away. He cleared his throat, and by the look on his face Draco was actively trying to pull back a memory, any sort of recollection of you he could muster.

“How did it, you know, happen? Us, I mean.” He asked after a moment.

Fighting a smile, you replied with “Well, you and I both know we had fought since the moment you stepped foot in the common room, it wasn’t just two years ago.”

“How could I forget?”

“At the end of our fifth year you got into a bit of a tussle with Cormac again, something about how you were the only one allowed to bully me.” You laughed, “After that, I had my own personal bodyguard--on the rare occasions you were being decent.”

“People were messing with you? Why?” He asked, suddenly concerned.

“There were a lot of rumors going ‘round back then, most of them about my romantic affairs.” Rolling your eyes, you added “All about you, of course.”

Draco’s fallen smile was back and brighter than before, “Nice to know I’ve always been a nuance.”

“It wasn’t always that way.” You clarified, “We had some really good times, and no one--not even Pansy or Blaise--expected you to be such a romantic.”

He sighed, “I just wish I could remember it. It’s all there, I know it is, but no matter how hard I try the memories stay locked up somewhere.”

You moved closer, placing a hand over his, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll come back sooner than later. Besides, I won your heart once, I have full confidence that I can do it again.”

“Did the part where I mentioned my current massive crush on you just fly right over your head?”

“How could I forget?” You mimicked, “I’m just glad you’re okay, Draco, your fall had us all freaked out.”

“Is it weird?” He asked out of the blue, “Talking to me?”

You thought about his question for a moment, as there aren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe exactly how it all felt. “It is weird, I suppose. Honestly, if anything I’m scared, scared that your feelings for me won’t be the same after the accident. I have all these memories of the last year with you and the only thing left of them is that journal of yours.”

“Believe me, I’ve read it.” He assured you, “The moment Madam Pomfrey released me I was practically glued to it.” Draco finally pulled you into a hug, the long awaited embrace feeling like a weight being lifted off your chest.

“It's awful to say, but I feel so lucky right now.” He mumbled into your hair, “I’m experiencing you all over again.”

taglist (link in my bio/nav if you want to be added): @gwlvr @thatsassyhufflepuff @dracoswhore007 @eunoniaa @darlingmalfoy @dracoscene

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

Text

A/N: So. I wrote Anakin. Honestly the man has been living rent free in my mind for so long and we all know what I’m like for an angry angsty Star Wars boy. I am suffering with Imposter Syndrome massively with this because I don’t think I got his character down 100%. And well, I am a perfectionist. Anyway, here have this dumpster fire of a one shot.

Anakin Skywalker x Sith!Reader

Warnings: Canon violence, character death, lots of a Jedi hate talk. Damn fucking Jedi. Oh and a shit ton of angst.

Word Count: 1909

Your black robes fluttered around your legs as you peered over the ledge, a Jedi ship had come into land and you let a sly smile creep across your face. It was the Jedi you wanted, you could feel the ripples of his power through the force, the anger and darkness always with him even if he didn’t use them. You moved away and headed deeper into the compound, he was coming to stop you, take you back to the Jedi Council. You felt the presence of the 501st as they spread out looking for you but their force signatures were dulled by the brightness of him. Already the anticipation of battle thrummed through your body, the hilts of your sabers melded perfectly to the curve of your palms. Pulling down the visor on your mask you paced feeling him coming closer and closer until finally the door opened and there he stood in his black Jedi robes.

“I assumed you’d got lost,” you shot at him.

“I could sense your loathsome presence as soon as I landed,” he replied haughtily. You carried on pacing, seeing his saber still attached to his belt, the sure arrogance he had in his abilities made you proud. He was always such a cocky bastard but he had every right to be.

“What happens now, Skywalker? You think I will go quietly so you can hand me over to the traitors of the Galaxy?”

“The Jedi are not the traitors here!” He roared.

“Yes they are! And you know it!” His eyes followed you, across the floor, his expression darkening. “How can you not see their narrow minded ideas are strangling the Galaxy? They sit in their temple, allowing this war to continue all the while saying they don’t advocate it. They are apparently keepers of the peace and yet shattering it time and time again!”

“No! I will not listen to your lies!” You lifted your chin in defiance.

“Then come and shut me up,” your voice sneered through the vocoder. He moved quickly and your sabers came alive in your hands, the loud clash of the beams sent sparks over your heads. “The Jedi are a lie, their only legacy is failure…” you continued.

“No!” The force push hit you in the chest and a laugh burst from your chest as you slammed into the wall.

“Yes! Use that rage on me, Anakin.”

“You don’t want me to fight you,” he threatened, making you grin behind the mask.

“Oh baby, I’m counting on it.” You ducked as his blue lightsaber pierced the wall, you took the opening, punching him in the stomach making him grunt in surprise and retreat, before coming at you again. The sabers danced in a pattern that was all too familiar. You met each other move for move, nothing survived the brightness of your blades as you both cleaved a path of destruction. You spun out of his reach, putting some debris between you knowing it wasn’t much of a barrier, not when it came to you and Anakin. “They are oppressing you Anakin! They will never set you free to accomplish your true potential! They do not see the power you possess.”

“And you do?” He asked aggressively, pointing his saber at your chest as he roamed across the floor.

“I have always seen you.” He frowned and you sensed his confusion at your words. Retracting your blades you removed your mask letting it fall to the floor with a thud. “They told you I was dead didn't they?” You asked softly. The brightness of his own blade diminished followed by the ripples of surprise and crushing sadness but he stayed where he was. “More lies,” you pointed out.

“I don’t understand, Obi-Wan…”

“Obi-Wan misled you. He didn’t want to tell you the truth in case you came looking for me,” you spread your arms. “But the force guided you back to me anyway.” He whispered your name like it physically pained him, taking a step back as you stepped forward. “Change is coming, the end of an era giving way to the dawn of the Empire.”

“No, stop!” He cried.

“Join me Anakin….we can make the Galaxy a better place.” You backed him against the wall, his blue eyes closing as though he could stop himself from seeing you. “I know the pain you bear,” you whispered leaning into him. “I can help you face it, use it.”

“It is not the Jedi way, I will not fall for this!” You turned away from him growling with frustration.

“Stop being so blind! How do you refuse to see through the veil of deceit they have draped over us?” You screamed.

“How do you refuse to see the good! Has the touch of the light left you that much in the dark?” It hurt you, seeing him like this, sensing his pain and torment but it was necessary. If you could get Anakin onside the war would be won and you would be Darth Sidious’ prize apprentice. Turning the Chosen one was a task only you could accomplish, because out of all the people in the Galaxy, you were the one Anakin would not bring himself to destroy.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked him, watching as his chest heaved in distress.

“You will come with me, maybe the Jedi can help you…” you tutted in annoyance at his words.

“What a ridiculous notion! The Jedi can’t even help themselves let alone anyone else. Look at Ahsoka…” his blade roared to life in his hands as he flew at you, clashing against your red blades.

“You will leave Ahsoka out of this!” He snarled.

“But she is a part of this, we are all a part of this story that the Jedi have written,” you shouted over the crackling of your blades as he forced you back. The blades scissored out and his face grew close enough so you could feel his breath on your face. “You know I speak the truth Anakin, it’s why it upsets you so much.”

“No!” The air was pushed from your body and you fell backwards, your sabers falling from your grasp and skitting across the floor. You looked up into the light of the blue blade, seeing him standing over you with that twisted look on his face. The light of it shone in his tear filled eyes and you waited with bated breath. “I trusted you! Why didn’t you come and find me?” He shouted.

“What good would it have done? Would you have helped me like you helped her?” His saber lowered, but it didn’t go out and you chose a different tactic. “They asked you to spy on the Chancellor didn’t they?” He frowned, not hiding the shock he felt at your words. “I have my sources,” you spoke before he could question where you got the information. “Did that feel right to you? Is that a Just course of action for the Jedi to take?”

“I don’t…” you stood up slowly keeping eye contact.

“Use your brain Anakin!”

“I am!” He yelled turning away, his hand held out to you as though he wanted to stop you advancing.

“Anakin,” you whispered. “Just embrace the darkness.” His body slumped and you felt the streams rushing past you as he accepted the pain and anger inside him. You laughed, opening your arms at the vortex created by the force, it swirled around him, welcoming him. “You will not regret this Anakin! He will reward you beyond your wildest dreams!” You retrieved your sabers off the floor, snapping them to your belt before picking up your mask. When you turned Anakin was right behind you, his piercing eyes staring straight through you.

“What do we do now?” He asked and you hesitated slightly, sensing something still had to be unlocked within him but you didn’t know what. It wasn’t your place, you weren’t his master. You were his equal.

“I will take you to my master. He will know what to do.” You began to walk off but his hand snatched at your arm.

“What did he tell you about the rules of the Sith?”

“Enough,” you responded. “We could overthrow him,” you suggested with a smirk. Anakin released your arm and you relaxed slightly. “We were always such a team, unbeatable even on the side of the light, imagine what we could accomplish with an entire Galaxy at our fingertips?”

“I missed you,” he whispered and you took a step towards him. You leaned your forehead against his temple finally allowing your feelings to come to the forefront. Anakin had been everything to you, it had killed you to leave him behind but Sidious had promised you happiness in the end and now here you are achieving that. Your hand sought his own out, his fingers clammy as he gripped you tightly.

“And I missed you,” you breathed against his skin. His face shifted, his nose pressing against your cheek and your heart pounded at finally being reunited with the one person you wanted in the entire Galaxy. “The Clones are coming,” you murmured.

“I can sense them,” he replied, still not moving away from you. His expression was one of torture and you swept a strand of hair gently off his brow.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly.

“There is….something I need to do.”

“Can I help?” You whispered, brushing your lips against his cheek.

“Yes.” He shifted, your chests pressing together as he finally kissed you. His lips were soft and lingering making you melt into him so you were unprepared for the burning sensation in your side. Your mouth opened against his in a loud gasp of surprise, his tears glinted in the glowing blue light of his saber as it protruded from your body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. You couldn’t speak, your body refused to take a breath and you could see the darkside emitting from his irises as he gazed mournfully at you. “My master sent me to find you.” He sobbed when you slumped against him, not able to hold your weight anymore, the smell of your own burning flesh making you feel sick. His blade retracted but still the pain remained, the sting of betrayal coupled with the hurt of your life ending by the hand you trusted the most.

He followed you to the ground, your legs folding like they had no bones left in them as numbness spread through your body. “I will see peace and justice reign in the new Empire.” Your eyes widened, the only response you were able to give as the life slowly ebbed away from you. “I will never forget you.” You wanted to ask why, he had been genuinely surprised to see you under the mask and then you realised you’d both been played. Only the strongest would come out of this room alive, but you had been blinded. Tricked by your own feelings that maybe, just maybe he would have joined you rather than burying you in his quest for power. His hand cradled your head, his tears pattering onto your skin, mingling with the lone tear that ran from the corner of your own eye. We could have done this together, Anakin….

“It never would have worked. I’m saving you.” He replied as your world grew darker. “You were the one war I could never win….until now.”

#please don’t hate me #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x sith!reader #sith!reader #angst #I’m sorry #don’t come at me #this is my first time writing Anakin

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secretlittl3whore · 3 years

Text

Not a Nightmare

Summary: You’re reminiscing over the last year when you hear Bucky having a dream in the other room, but it’s not the kind of dream you were expecting.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: smut! Unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your Willy). A little angsty first. Swear words. 18+ y’all please!

Enjoy my sweet nymphs. As always, you can request ;)

——

His nightmares kept him up most nights. It had been that way since i had connected with him in South America. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, he really didn’t even know who he was, except what he could glean from the Captain America exhibit and from what I could share of what Steve had told me. Part of me wondered if I made the right decision to follow him instead of returning to America, but when he recognized me and in the two weeks I was down there, attempted multiple interactions with me, I couldn’t deny him when he asked me to stay. I wish I understood why he asked.

Now here we are in Bucharest. Times are calmer for him, but the nightmares...they’re worse than anything I expected. Sometimes, he will awake screaming at night. Others he’s trying to fight some imaginary enemy and doesn’t wake till he’s forced. On occasion, I have been the victim of a night terror. His vibranium arm crushing my throat or him slamming me into the floor. Bucky always felt like shit afterwards, no matter what I said. At one point he tried to kick me out of his apartment and his life, saying he was too dangerous for me. I sat outside the door for six hours, listening to him cry. When I finally had knocked, he practically ripped the door of the hinges to grab me back in. He dropped to his knees that day, his arms wrapped around me as he buried his tear covered face against my stomach. It broke me to see him in such a vulnerable position. I remember running my hands through his hair for what seemed like forever until his grip around me loosened and his arms fell limply to his sides.

“Why did you stay? After, after all I’ve done?” His voice broke, as more tears slid down his face. My own eyes welled with tears as I kneeled in front of him. Slowly and gently, I took him in my arms, pulling him against me. Bucky tensed for a minute, but then slowly wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my neck. I went back to running my fingers in his hair, contemplating my response.

“Because I want to be here for you. In every way possible.” A silent sob racked his body and I felt more of his weight on me as he crumpled. Bucky laid his head in my lap and brought his flesh hand to rest on my hip. He kept his vibranium on the floor, away, fear radiating from the way he curled it away from me. “Give me your hand Bucky.” He raised his head off my lap with wide open eyes.

“But...” he started to protest, but i shushed him, placing my finger on his lips.

“I’m here for you in every way.” I emphasized the last two words with a small smile. I wasn’t afraid of him and I certainly wasn’t afraid of his arm. “That means,” I reached for his hand and took the cool metal fingers within mine, “you don’t have To worry about keeping yourself from me.” Reluctantly he allowed me to bring his arm up to my lips. I knew he couldn’t feel it, but I kissed his had, listening to the soft whirs and enjoying the feel of the cool metal against my lips. Bucky continued to cry for a while more, my sleep shorts practically soaked and my legs so numb that I was probably going to have to crawl to bed. But he never let go, never moved his head, and never tried to remove his arm from my grasp.

Since that day, he has been exceedingly touchy with me. It was clear he was touch starved, I would be too, if all i ever knew was a harsh hand. I started to notice it when I had just returned from the market with groceries one day. I swore he had been asleep on his makeshift bed and I was trying to be as quiet as I could, but then felt a presence and a hand on the small of my back. I threw him a small smile over my shoulder before returning to my task. He stayed there for the entire time I put the groceries away, leaning against the fridge door and absentmindedly rubbing the exposed skin of my back. It was the hardest fucking lesson to learn, but I finally had enough willpower to not jump when he placed his cold fingers against my skin. I honestly loved the feeling of his metal pads dragging softly against the small of my back, but gosh dang were they freezing! Even despite the fact that he wore gloves almost all the time.

Nonetheless, i started to notice it more and more after this. Him standing close to me, having his hand on me at any point (or simply just brushing it against me), sitting near me, and my favorite, him laying his head on my lap when I’m sitting in the couch.

Had I fallen in love with the super soldier? I cannot deny it.

—

A whimper from the living room ripped me from my head. I sat up in the bathtub, trying to see if the sound was just in my head. Another whimper told me it wasn’t. I wrapped myself in a robe and padded softly into the living room where Bucky slept.

He wasn’t thrashing around, but his face was contorted in an expression I couldn’t read. Suddenly, a small moan left his lips and I just about swooned. What was this man dreaming about? At that moment, his blanket fell to the side and I averted my eyes respectfully, but definitely didn’t miss the tent that had formed in his sweat pants. I turned to walk away but then he moaned again, this time saying a name...my name.

I felt hot, not just in my face, but also in between my legs. He was dreaming about me? I almost didn’t believe it, but the man said my name yet again. Fine, if he says it again...

“Y/n...” Bucky moaned, a little louder this time. Damn it. Mustering all my confidence, I walked over to the sleeping man. It was a risk, and I knew it, but I’ll be damned if I lied to myself and said I didn’t want this man. Kneeling beside his bed, I gently brushed some of the hair out of his face. The super soldier startled awake and grabbed my hand harshly, breathing raspy. “y/n...what?” Voice sleepy.

“You were dreaming.” I said simply. He sat up quickly and pulled the blanket over himself, averting his eyes from my gaze. “Bucky,” he still refused to look at me. “Do you want me?” Bucky immediately snapped his eyes to mine, a clear and potent blush on his face. I heard him swallow hard before replying in the most quiet of voice,

“Yes.” Inwardly I celebrated as loudly as I could, but I kept cool on the surface. I surged forward and captured his lips. He responded immediately, moving his lips against mine. Without breaking the kiss, I straddled his lap wrapping my arms around his neck. Tentatively, he brought both hands to my hips. I licked his bottom lip and invaded his mouth when he opened. He moaned into my mouth as my tongue danced with his. When I pulled back, our breaths were short. His blue eyes glistened with tears,

“Are you sure you want me?” If it had been any other moment, I probably would’ve just cried and held him in my arms, but there was such a confidence within myself that I decided against such a meek answer. Instead, I pulled at the tie of my robe. Bucky almost instantly grabbed my hands, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you just how much I want you.” As he relaxed his hands, I pulled the robe off. The cold air within the apartment perked my nipples. Bucky’s eyes traveled my body, but he didn’t move. Slowly, I led his hands to my chest. His metal hand played a dangerous game of temperature play with my breasts and a moan escaped from me. My cunt ached and I knew that I was wet from anticipation.

That moan must’ve given him some sort of confidence because he started to knead the fleshy mounds. He then dipped his head low and took a nipple into his mouth.

“Buck,” I moaned. His tongue laved over the nipple and I felt his teeth pull gently. I was a raspy, moaning mess by the time he switched over to the other nipple. Need friction. Taking his flesh hand from my breast, I guided it down to my aching cunt. Bucky stopped his lavishes on my nipple as he stared at me.

“I’m...” Bucky averted his gaze, “I’m out of practice.” Before he could get into his head and start comparing himself to his 1940s version, I kissed him deeply.

“So am I, we’ll learn together.” Bucky inhaled deeply and dropped his head to my shoulder. A finger touched my sensitive nub and I jerked. He started circling that area with his thumb as his other fingers explored, gathering wetness. A finger entered me and I gasped at the feeling. Another entered. Moving in and out, curling, and gently stretching me. I was a moaning mess at his musings. A white flash smashed my vision as he hit a certain spot within me and I moaned loudly. Bucky started kissing and licking my shoulders and neck, marking the skin as he paid attention to this spot within me. My moans spurned him on as he quickened his pace, still making sure to play with my clit.

“Buck...Bucky.” His name a mantra on my lips as I grasped his hair, my head falling backwards. His metal arm reached around my back, holding me in place. My orgasm was building, toes curling, that warmth within my belly. His fingers pumped and curled, edging me to the end. In a another flash of white It surged through me and I came on his fingers.

He looked surprised and proud of himself as he brought his soaked fingers to his lips. I almost came again as I watched him lick each one clean. His pupils blew out and he pulled my face to his, smashing his lips against mine. Tongue surged past my open lips, bringing the taste of me. Bucky lifted me off his lap and gently turned us around, laying me on his bed, but never breaking the kiss. He worked his pants off.

I pulled back from the kiss, my lungs screaming for air. He leaned upwards and I finally caught the full show. His dick was massive, too swollen and red. The veins popping. And fine curly hair at the base. He was Definitely bigger than I have ever had. I gingerly reached out and wrapped my fingers around him. Shit, he was thick, I could hardly touch my middle finger to my thumb. I looked up at him. His eyes were closed, mouth opened just a bit, and his hands were in his hair.

“Buck?” I brought his attention to me and he released his hands from his hair. “What’s wrong?” He had tears in his eyes again.

“I don’t want to be something you regret y/n.” He cried. I reached upwards and guided him down to my lips. His tears dropping onto my cheeks.

“Never. I’ll never regret you. I love you.” I whispered into his ears. Bucky froze. Oh shit, did I go to far?

“Say it again.” He spoke finally, still frozen in place, his ear next to my lips. I swallowed hard before repeating,

“I love you.” Bucky reached down between us, pumped himself twice, before lining himself up at my entrance. He pushed forward gently. Even with just the tip inside, I could already feel the stretching. He entered more, going slow. Bucky and I moaned loudly as he became fully sheathed inside. I grasped at his shirt, feeling full. There was a dull pain within my cunt and I breathed through it, the pain finally turning to pleasure. Almost as he could sense it, Bucky started to move. The rhythm was slow at first, him enjoying and getting reacquainted to the feeling.

My entire being felt jolted with every roll of his hips. His pubic bone was hitting my clit so perfectly that even at this slow pace, I was sure that he would throw me over the edge again. Bucky leaned closer to me, making sure to keep his weight on his forearms, and buried his head within my neck again. Wrapping my legs around his waist, i fisted my hand within his hair. He groaned and snapped his hips hard against me. The sound that left my mouth was pornographic, and he definitely liked it. Bucky started snapping his hips into me at a bruising pace, drawing moan after moan. I was incoherent, arching my back into him. He suddenly grabbed my hand from his back and thrusted it against the bed, holding it at the wrist. His metal hand hoisted my hips higher, and at the angle he was going, he was smashing into that special spot. I came in an instant, screaming loudly.

He didn’t let up his pace. Pulling out almost entirely before slamming back in. Both hands were now at my hips, gripping hard. There would be bruises in the morning. Groans and moans were rushing past his lips as he powered through, his stamina definitely a byproduct of the super soldier serum. Another orgasm built within me and he leaned over my ear,

“Fuck y/n, I can feel you clenching. Can you give me another doll?” I threw my head back as he bit into my neck.

“Bucky!” I cried as the orgasm came. Bucky slowed his pace, pressing open mouth kisses to my skin. He then began to work a mark into my neck. My body was on fire and really sensitive. I moaned loudly, fisting my hands into his shirt. For a moment I wondered why it was still on, but I figured that although he may be confident to be within me, he may not yet be confident to show me himself fully, and that was okay, we could work towards that. Once he was proud of the mark, he placed a loving peck to it before moving towards my face. Not an inch was left unkissed. He leaned his forehead against mine, blue orbs staring into mine.

“Ready?” He asked. I nodded slowly, kissing him gently. Bucky picked up his speed and this time, it was more brutal than before. Pubic bone smashing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, wet legs and balls slapping against skin making the most perverted of sounds. Bucky’s hands gripped mine. I arched into him again, writhing, unable to control myself at the amount of pleasure within. My moans were incoherent, his name slipping from my lips. Suddenly his hips stuttered and he slammed into me, wrapping his arms tightly around me and crushing me against his chest. His release came with my name on his lips, a string of soft repetition. For a while he held me, his cock warm within me. And then he pulled out, laying beside me. Sweaty bodies, heaving chests, and the smell of sex was an intoxicating combination. I felt drained, but happy.

Curling against him, I wrapped my leg around his hip, just to feel him against my cunt. Bucky reached down and pulled the blanket over us. As I felt sleep take over, Bucky pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I love you too Y/N.”

#winter soldier smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #winter soldier #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine

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nugnthopkns · 3 years

Text

i’ll wait and i’ll listen

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of deafness/hearing loss, cursing, i think that’s it

recommended listening: new song | maggie rogers & del water gap

a/n: hi! first and foremost, i want to say that this is based off my own personal experiences with a deaf father, and it is in no way a reflection of how other people or families with hearing issues operate. this is just how we live and how my dad goes about life. with that out of the way, enjoy some soft nolan content i threw together in 45 minutes. pretty sure i made this gender neutral, but please point out any mistakes!

There’s no legitimate reason for you to be so apprehensive about Nolan meeting your parents.

He’s a great person who is all you could ever ask for in a partner. The two of you get along like peas in a pod, and honestly most of the time your relationship feels like two friends hanging out. Of course there’s a bit more romance involved – but being with Nolan is so easy you barely have to think about it.

Your parents aren’t the issue either. They’re both incredibly supportive of your relationship, and anything else you do. If it weren’t for them, you never would have left home – they’re the ones who packed the car and drove you all the way to Philadelphia. You never would have met Nolan if they hadn’t practically forced you out of the house and into the world.

Truthfully, both parties would probably get along great. Your mother is kind and welcoming, and your father has interests similar to Nolan’s. Your younger siblings adore him – they came to visit one weekend and you took them to an afternoon game at Wells Fargo Centre, and afterwards the four of you went out for burgers. Since then they talk to him regularly, and have been begging for you to return home with Nolan. You can tell your parents are getting antsy too – after all, you’ve been with Nolan for nearly two years.

Yes, Nolan has a busy schedule that doesn’t allow for much travel, but there have been plenty of opportunities over the years for everyone to get together. You’re the one who always comes up with a reason for him not to meet your parents. One time you were ‘sick’, another you were too busy with work to make the trip home. It isn’t that you’re worried they won’t approve or that Nolan will resent them. You’re apprehensive about bringing Nolan around because you’re worried there will be a communication barrier.

Your dad is deaf, and Nolan doesn’t exactly enunciate his words well. His voice is also exceptionally deep, which doesn’t help much. It isn’t a secret, your father’s hearing issues, and you’ve spoken to Nolan about them numerous times. Most of the time it’s you fretting about it getting worse and he listens intently while you sob into his chest. Since the hearing loss came from years of working around loud machines, it was gradual, which was frustrating for him. You were in high school when he got hearing aides, but eventually they lost their desired effect. Now your dad relies on reading lips and other non-aural markers like hand gestures to fill in the gaps.

“Babe, I have to meet them at some point,” Nolan says through a mouthful of pasta. “Especially since I plan on sticking around.”

Your mom had called earlier in the afternoon to ask when you were coming home next. The upcoming weekend is free in your schedule, and when you told her she insisted you bring Nolan. He’s out for the season with the migraine related issues so you couldn’t exactly lie and say he was going to be out of town. Instead, you fed her some bullshit excuse and said you’d check to see if he could move some stuff around.

“I know,” you sigh. “I just don’t want you or my dad getting frustrated if talking doesn’t go smoothly.”

Nolan pushes his chair back from the table and walks to stand behind you. He rubs your shoulders soothingly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “There are a million and ten other ways I can communicate with him Sweetheart. Don’t worry about it.”

Deep down, you know he’s right. There’s no reason the two of them can’t communicate, even if they can’t do it verbally. After discussing it more and ironing out all your doubts, you call your mom back to let her know both you and Nolan will be coming. A small weight lifts from your chest, knowing that you’ll get the first meeting over with, but dread slowly creeps in. There are so many ways it could go wrong.

☼☼☼☼

You and Nolan stand on the doorstep of your childhood home hand in hand. As if he can sense how nervous you are, Nolan squeezes gently, reminding you of his unwavering presence.

“Whatever happens isn’t going to change the fact that I love you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

To steady yourself from the negative thought swirling in your brain you lean closer to Nolan. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and uses his free hand to knock on the door. Less than two seconds your sister is bounding towards the door and flinging it open.

“Mom! Y/N and Nolan are here!”

She steps to the side and lets the pair of you in. You shrug off your jacket and hang it on the rack behind the door – Nolan copies. As soon as you’re inside the entryway your mother is wrapping you in a massive hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home darling,” she says, arms tight around you. “Was the drive okay?”

You go to answer her question but her attention is turned to your very tall boyfriend who is standing beside you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You must be Nolan. It’s so nice we could finally meet. Y/N has told me a lot about you.”

Nolan clears his throat before speaking, his deep voice echoing slightly off the ceiling. “All good things I hope,” he laughs, looking to you for reassurance.

Nodding your head, you join in his laughter. You travel farther into the house, giving your brother a fistbump when you pass him in the hall. When you moved out your parents converted your room into a sophisticated guest bedroom, so there aren’t any embarrassing posters from your teenage years on the walls for Nolan to make fun of. You quickly unpack your suitcase, wanting to get back downstairs and spend time with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve been home, and you missed them more than you thought.

“Is your dad here?” Nolan asks, hanging the couple of sweaters you guys brought up in the closet.

You glance at the clock on the wall, you shake your head. “He’ll be home from work just before dinner.”

The two of you head downstairs to chill with your siblings, but not without sharing a few kisses that make your spine tingle. At your brother’s insistence the four of you head to the basement to partake in an air hockey tournament. Though Nolan can hold his own in the NHL, he’s rather miserable at this iteration of the game. Your sister eliminates him in under five minutes, and after a hard fought battle you defeat your brother.

Nolan tries to coach you before the gold medal game but you laugh him off. “Nol, you were terrible. I think I can hold my own.”

He breathes out harshly through his nose, but you know he isn’t upset with your teasing. “Fine,” he mumbles, “See if you can win without my all-star advice.”

Your sister manages to win in a shootout. It was a close game, and you challenge her to a rematch after dinner. She accepts, insisting you’ll lose again. Nolan bets he can race her around the property, so you move outside. Your mom lets you know dinner will be ready soon, and you throw her a thumbs up.

Though your sister is a fast runner, she’s got nothing on Nolan’s six foot frame. He passes her with ease, cheekily throwing her the finger as he rushes by. You’re the finish line and instead of stopping when he reaches you, Nolan throws you over his shoulder and continues running through the yard.

Your laugh rings out as you kick your feet. “Put me down!” you shriek. When he makes no attempt to prove he listened to your cries, you try again. “Nol, come on, put me down. If you fall it’ll be really bad.”

Knowing you’re right, Nolan stops moving and gingerly places you on the ground. His hands move to cup your face and he plants a warm kiss on your lips. You refuse to let it get too far, but you lean into him slightly and sigh when he pulls away.

In the distance you hear your mom calling for dinner. “Kids, it’s time to eat,” she says. “Your father just got home.”

Your heart beat rises exponentially, and your steps drag slightly as you get closer to the door. Nolan notices, but doesn’t say anything. Instead he flashes you a smile that’s reserved just for you and makes your heart melt.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make sure I don’t mumble.”

In the dining room, you guide Nolan to sit beside your dad. You figure it’s the spot where he has the best chance of hearing your boyfriend, and no one seems to protest. They give each other a polite nod while the rest of you rush to place everything on the table and serve the food.

Once everyone is sitting, Nolan takes the initiative to introduce himself. “It’s nice to meet you Sir,” he says a bit slower than his normal speaking voice, making sure to clearly enunciate his words.

There’s no response from your father, and you suck in a breath. You watched him focus on Nolan’s lips while he spoke, but you fear he still couldn’t quite understand what your boyfriend said. It takes a few more beats for him to process what was spoken, but then your dad is cracking a smile and holding his hand out for Nolan to shake.

“Glad Y/N isn’t hiding you from us anymore. I thought the first time I’d meet you was at the engagement party.” His voice is a few decibels louder than everyone else’s, due to not being able to hear himself, but Nolan doesn’t seem to mind.

They slip into an easy conversation about work and hunting, asking each other a million questions. There’s barely room for any one else to contribute but the rest of you don’t mind – it’s been a long time since your dad has been able to go this long without asking someone for assistance. Of course there’s a few bumps in the road – Nolan not speaking clearly or looking elsewhere while telling a story, but that was to be expected. You step in when needed, repeating phrases and recreating scenes with hand actions. Overall, the meal goes swimmingly, and the two men leave the table eagerly to swap stories.

You spend the time catching up with your mother, and she gushes over how Nolan is handling everything. “He’s doing so well,” she exclaims. “He’s so patient with your dad, waiting to make he understood what was said before continuing, and he doesn’t have an issue repeating himself a few times. You really lucked out Y/N.”

“I know,” you say honestly. “He’s simply the best.”

It’s a few hours later that Nolan finds his way back to you. You arch your brow, wondering what he got up to, and he explains that your dad took him for a walk in the forest to show him the deer he’d been tracking the past couple of weeks. It’s heartwarming that they get along so well, and you feel a little silly for fretting over what would happen.

☼☼☼☼

“Your dad is nice,” Nolan shrugs as you crawl into bed beside him. “I could hardly tell he was deaf most of the time.”

You tuck yourself into his side and hum. “He does a great job of not letting it define him,” you agree. “But thank you for being so patient with him.”

A small peck is placed to your shoulder blade and you sigh at the contact of Nolan’s lips on your skin. “He did grumble about how my voice is too deep,” he laughs. “Said he could barely hear me. Once I knew that I made sure to speak clearly and let him read my lips.”

You’re speechless. None of your friends or past romantic partners had made that much of an effort to treat your dad like he was a person. They got short with him for needing them to slow down or repeat themselves, and often would refuse to see him again. It’s part of the reason you were so hesitant to introduce Nolan – you wanted to protect him from another person who might treat him differently because he can’t hear.

“I really fucking love you,” you whisper into the darkness.

You can practically hear the grin in Nolan’s voice as he speaks. “I really fucking love you too.”

The rest of your stay will go just fine, you think as you drift to sleep. There was nothing to worry about, and you can’t wait to watch a friendship blossom between your dad and boyfriend.

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales @kiedhara @tortito @boqvistsbabe if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

#this is kinda shit but i've been toying with this idea for a while #it's done now and my brain can move on #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick x reader #nolan patrick fic #philadelphia flyers imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #cwrites

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Five Shades of Hunnam

President • King • Captain • Pilot • Gentleman

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N: Here’s Part 2 of this crazy filthy fantasy of getting gang-banged* by five versions of Charlie!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Part 2 is written based on the results of this poll asking which Hunnams y’all would prefer in each hole 🤪

Pairings: Jax Teller + King Arthur + Will Miller + Raleigh Becket + Raymond Smith ... x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, rough sex, gang bang* (5 on 1), *NOT gang r*pe – fully consensual, reader enjoys getting ravaged in all of her holes 🙃 Request: Kinkfest request from @itsme-autumn

Word Count: ~3.3k

GIFs by misterhunnam | hunnamsource | charllehunnam

... Continued from Part 1 [Read Here]

“Tell me, baby. Do you want us to treat you like a lady...? Or whip out all five of our cocks and just go fucking crazy?”

The fact that Jax Teller is here in your room—standing among four other men just as stunning as him, all in the form of Mr. Charlie Fucking Hunnam—the fact that Jax just said that to you... is honestly too hot to be true.

What the hell are you supposed to say to that? Supposed to do...?

You’re soaking wet and need them bad. So horny you feel fucking dead. You want to speak and yet you can’t. King Arthur has Excalibur in hand; the way you’re feeling right this instant, hurts as if that goddamn legendary sword stabbed you straight through.

With fire in his eyes of icy blue, Jax takes a few bold steps toward you. Your gaze falls to his crotch on impulse, and it’s clear from the bulge in his jeans... he’s extremely well-hung. So damn thick. So damn long. So damn big it’s obscene. It’s not as if you’re shocked—Jax Teller always walked and talked like someone with a massive cock—but still, just seeing... is believing like fuck. Plus he’s hard as a rock.

“C’mon, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue...?” he taunts, not ashamed to whip out a ridiculous pussycat pun. It’s so painfully dumb, but when Jax Teller says it... you basically cum. He’s a devilish dick of a dom, and he loves to flaunt it. “Bet that pussy could use some tongue on it. I mean, if you’d want it.”

Oh Goddd—you cannottt... that shit is just too fucking much, to be honest.

Thankfully Captain Will is behind you to catch your full weight, as you literally start to faint. And the feel of his touch on your skin has you falling all over again. Your poor cunt is in pain. So horny it’s insane, short-circuiting your brain.

But you’re still wide awake and conscious, well aware of just how fucking bad you want this. Every man in the room.

Will reads your mind, now as he holds you from behind. Chuckles sadistically against your ear and it’s fucking divine. “Mmm, maybe if we make her cum... then her brain will be able to function and send us all home.”

“To hell with going home,” Arthur mutters, clearly turned on at the sight of you all hot and bothered. He may be nobler than the others, but he was brought up in a brothel after all and has never denied where he came from. “I swear there’s no woman so fair in all my kingdom...”

“Nor in my dimension,” Ray seconds. “Y/N—ever since we stepped in, I’ve been dying to mention that you are delightfully hot.”

Raleigh smolders, tension in his beefy broad shoulders. The king and the gentleman... aren’t they supposed to be decent like him? Now apparently they just forgot?... “But I thought—”

The President abruptly interrupts. While Will surrounds you from behind, blowing your mind, Jax comes up front. Fucking you up, his words setting a bomb off in your cunt. “Y/N just has to tell us what we all already know she wants.”

And then somehow, you finally summon the words to your filthy whore mouth. Still unable to fathom how you got so lucky. There’s only one way to respond—so you say it now. Say it loud, slutty and proud. “I want... I want you all to fuck me. All at once.”

***************

And so it goes.

You and five versions of Charlie Hunnam, all here in your room, are all ready to burst and give in to your dirtiest thirsts.

First things first: you need Jax Teller’s cock in your throat, and he already knows. He can tell, all too well—and he smirks, hot as hell, because he is the worst. You’ve been so fucking eager to suck off this fictional character ever since you started watching his show.

Now he’s not at all fictional, though. You still cannot believe this is real, and just how good it feels... to know just what’s in store, as you give into all of your instincts to kneel, sinking fast to the floor... that you are actually about to blow the President of SAMCRO.

“Mmm...” the tall blonde biker hums, clearly pleased, as he watches you fall to your knees, reaching now to rip open his jeans like a cheap fucking whore. Jax’s cocksucking hoe. “There we go. Look at that slutty little mouth of yours. Go on and show me what it’s good for.”

Fuck yes, sir. But you’re too breathless now to use your words to answer, as Jax Fucking Teller’s cock is out, so big and hard and proud... a goddamn pillar of perfection...

And you are not about to waste a second, worshiping the President’s erection with your filthy little mouth.

“Unghhh....” he grunts, as you set to work right at once. The sound of his guttural groan starts a flood in your cunt, soaking up while you slobber all over his dick, focusing on the tip. Servicing him with your tongue and lips, loving it more with each lick. Slurping up every sweet drop of precum as it drips.

He is so delicious. You could go on forever like this, as if you and Jax are the only two souls who exist. But you’re not—and the fact that four other versions of the same man are watching right here in this room... just the thought, of five shades of Hunnam, five flavors of your favorite sex god... is so fucking hot.

The truth is that they’re not just here to watch, while you bury your face in Jax’s crotch. They’re here to touch. They’re here to fuck. They know that you want all five of their cocks. You’ve never wanted anything so much.

And just your luck... they want you too. These five versions of Charlie are incredibly turned on by you, though it seems too good to be true.

All of a sudden, you feel hands upon your skin as someone hoists you off the floor. King Arthur has just set aside his sword, stripped off his shirt—oh God, his chiseled muscles are so hot, so hard it hurts—and flings you easily over his shoulder like a little fucktoy whore.

“The fuck—” the President protests as your mouth slips off of his cock, with a loud pop, once the king swiftly lifts you up. Jax was not at all set for this blowjob to stop. He wants more of this mind-blowing head. “What the... I wasn’t done yet...”

“Did you not hear what Y/N said?” Arthur reminds him, as he carries you across the room and throws you down onto the bed. The way he effortlessly handles you like that... you’ve never been so wet. “The lady wants all five of us at once. You took that pretty little mouth of hers—such a sweet hole to fuck—but there are others. Now it’s time for her to take a royal cock. Give her exactly what she wants. I’m gonna lay claim to her cunt.”

Then he attacks you with a fierce animalistic grunt, tearing his leather pants away to free his meat, and ripping off your clothes as well to make sure that you feel all of his heat. His feral dominance is everything you need. The way he grabs and gropes your tits, with one of his hands... while the other reaches down to stroke your clit... holy fucking shit. You seriously can’t. It’s more than you can stand.

“You think you own that cunt?” Jax comes to butt in, all of a sudden. “Think just ‘cause you’re king you can do what you want? Well, think again. I said I wasn’t done.”

The President then reaches right under Arthur, before things can go any farther. Grabs you by the shoulders to pull you up into a better position. Like every inch of you belongs to him.

Both of these men are just manhandling you at their whim, and it feels like heaven to be sinking into such a state of submission.

The king of England and the king of Charming end up grappling for dominance for a few moments, until their struggle is cut short by a quick interruption: the captain. He’s sick of this childish behavior from them. No matter the problem, Will Ironhead Miller can always propose an efficient solution.

“Cut the bullshit—it’s not rocket science, you idiots,” he says as he tells the men how to best handle their business. “Look: Y/N sits on the king’s cock, then biker boy stands at the side of the bed, so that she can lean over and give him head.”

His suggestion is met with a pause.

Jax is first to break it, while you lie on the bed wet and naked. Glaring alpha male daggers at Ironhead, chest proud and puffed. “What, you think you’re the boss?” he indignantly scoffs.

Arthur huffs, his own ego a little bruised too. But then poses the question to you, his voice all at once tender yet rough. “That sound good to you, love?”

You cannot help but swoon at the word he just called you. How is it he’s so fucking hot, yet so cute...? Your head bobs in a dumb speechless nod; it’s the most you can do.

“Yeah, ‘course it does,” the captain confidently gloats, as you settle into the perfect position that he had proposed. Take the king in your cunt and the President deep in your throat. “Just what she loves. Dick in her mouth and her pussy. Especially because this leaves her pretty little ass ready for me.”

You could honestly die at the thought—that sounds painfully hot...?!? And so dirty... you’ve never once taken two dicks in two holes, let alone three in three... but goddamn do these men make you thirsty.

The second you sit down on King Arthur’s cock... your world is fucking rocked. He’s so epically big—just the same size as Jax’s enormous dick—speaking of which, you go straight back to being the President’s cocksucking bitch. Jax grabs you by the head from where he is standing at the side of the bed, fingers tangling in your messy hair as he feeds you his huge cock to suck. Your face will always be his to fuck.

And you still can’t get over your luck.

“Such a good little cockslut,” Jax snickers at you as he swiftly shrugs out of his kutte. Then the flannel beneath, knowing that looking up at his broad sculpted chest and his firm rippled abs is exactly what you want and need. You take his dick deeper this time around, gagging on his massive meat, gulping every inch down, and he’s so long and thick that it feels like your jaw fucking broke.

It feels so goddamn good to get wrecked, especially now with the words he says next. “You like the way I own this filthy little throat? God, you’re filthy as fuck. Taking my dick so good. Bet you can’t wait to swallow my load. That’s it, slut. Suck that cock till you choke.”

His dirty talk is so hot you can’t even cope. You used to imagine it back when you were just a fan of his show—now it’s actually happening though, and it’s more than your inner fangirl ever hoped.

And of course, it’s the instant your eyes roll back into your head, as both Arthur and Jax fuck you up on your bed, till you’re ready to burst... that the captain decides to step in and take full control, over another hole. If you thought taking two cocks at once was already the best and the worst, nothing could have prepared you for taking a third.

But the truth is you love how it hurts.

Having Jax Teller fucking your facehole all sloppy and juicy, while King Arthur slams his royal scepter into your soaking wet pussy, and Will Miller shoves his brutally big dick in your tight little ass, taking your cheeks in his tight grasp and dishing out punishing slaps... it feels like all your dreams are coming true at last. Literally cumming true at that. God, it feels so fucking good to be so fucking bad. It’s by far the best sex you have ever had. Satisfying all your sluttiest thirsts.

And as if shit could get any hotter... you’d almost forgotten that there are two others.

Two other equally beautiful versions of Charlie: the savage yet soft-spoken gentleman Ray, and the soft-hearted fighter pilot Raleigh.

You don’t even have enough holes in your body for all of them. Not sure whether and how you can handle another two Hunnams. But hot damn are you happy to tackle that problem.

As Jax and Will and Arthur keep railing you harder, filling you in every way you want... you hear another voice from nearby in the room. All at once cool and classy, yet naughty and nasty. It has to be Raymond. “Well now, who knew that this lovely woman... would turn out to be such a kinky fucking cunt.”

Ughh, fuck—you moan desperately all around Jax’s cock, the only way that you can respond. Who knew? No one. You didn’t even know it, till this moment. But now all five shades of Hunnam do. Their presence in your room has definitely brought it out of you.

At the gentleman’s words, the President flashes a smile and a sadistic little chuckle. All the while keeps on ruthlessly ravaging your filthy little fuckhole. Driving his dick into the back of your throat till it hurts. Till your slobbering tongue and your bottom lip smush up against his big balls. Addresses Ray as well as Raleigh, who is standing quietly along the far wall. “Tough luck for you all, but this bitch is fucking full. Too bad she’s only got three holes...”

“She’s got two hands, though,” Ray points out, coming toward you now, his footsteps so deliberate and slow. “What do you all reckon they’re good for...?”

Oh, good Lord...

“Stroking? Squeezing...?” he asks, reaching to take one of your hands in his dominant grasp. Wrapping your fingers tight around his throbbing shaft. You cannot even anymore. Just cannot even... “Mmm, it seems to me that Y/N summoned up five Hunnams for a reason. To be used up like a proper fucking whore.”

Three cocks have swiftly turned to four, and you can feel poor Raleigh bolting toward the door. This filthy business goes against his soft, pure heart. He’s never witnessed—let alone dared to take part—in such a hardcore pornographic scene as this...

But here he is. And can’t deny that he’s rock fucking hard, as you can tell from one quick glance, out of the corner of your eye, at the massive bulge in his military pants. And you’ll be damned before you let that pretty boy pilot escape from this. He fucking can’t. You need two cocks in your two hands.

“Don’t pussy out on us like that,” Will masterfully commands, beckoning Becket toward the bed. “You know we’re all just Y/N’s guests; this is her universe. So we’re just... here to satisfy her thirsts.”

And then he grabs hold of your shoulders, to anchor himself as his thrusts in your ass become faster and bolder, which ends up pushing your head deeper down in Jax’s crotch. Slamming into you like it’s his job. And it’s too fucking much. Fucking you the fuck up.

But you don’t ever want it to stop.

Raleigh seems reluctant to abide by Will’s orders. But something compels him to do as the captain said—come toward the bed, like a good little soldier. “You guys are the worst...”

“No, far from that,” Arthur replies with a filthy laugh, as he keeps on splitting your wet pussy in half with his majestic staff. “This may look bad, but how it feels...? Fucking unreal. Quite honestly the fucking best.”

Oh God fuck yes...

You can sense Raleigh coming closer toward the bed with timid steps. Can feel his captivated blue gaze watch your body as it bounces on the mattress. You’ve lost track of who’s thrusting the hardest, the fastest. It’s all just a beautiful big fucking mess...

“Now let’s see if the fifth cock is as big as all the rest,” Jax playfully suggests. “See if this dirty little slut can take us all at once. Just like she wants. Let’s put our fucktoy to the test.”

“Fine, if you all insist,” the pilot yields at last. “But only ‘cause she wants it. Honest.”

“Just shut up and let her get her hands on it,” Raymond grunts, frustrated and impatient, until Raleigh finally gets in position.

And once it happens—once you wrap your fist around his rock hard cock, getting completely fucked, by five versions of Hunnam all at once... it’s even better than you had ever imagined.

You eagerly jerk both men off, all while the other three keep ravaging you good and hard and rough. You feel so full, in all your holes, and more, down to your deepest core. Your inner whore. This is exactly what you live for, what you love. And you won’t ever get enough.

By the time all five Hunnams are ready to soak you in their fucking cum—which happens at the same time for all of them, since apparently they’re somehow in unison, being all versions of the same person from different dimensions... by the time that happens, you’ve already lost count of your own orgasms.

This whole session, for your slutty ass, has just felt like one epic extended climax. Will and Arthur pounding into you in a perfect rhythm, from the front and the back, while you jack off Raleigh and Ray, all while gagging on Jax... you could do this all day every day. And there’s no other way for your body and soul to react.

You’re nothing but a fucktoy for five shades of Hunnam and that is a fact.

As the three sex gods buried balls deep in your holes fill them up so deliciously full, the other two drop their loads all over the cheeks of your ass and the curve of your back. And you’re having an absolute heart attack. How is a mere mortal bitch supposed to survive this...? Your brain is blown to bits. At this point it’s an actual struggle to even exist.

But you’re a shameless whore, just desperate for another hit. For fucking more. Of all the countless possibilities of five versions of Charlie in your three holes and two hands... all you want is to try literally every combination, and then once you’re done, just repeat them again and again and again.

It is literally raining men. Not just any men—five incarnations of your fucking sex god obsession. All five of them are living breathing perfection. Wrecking you till it hurts, till you burst, fulfilling all your thirst, in every way from every direction.

So maybe eventually you’ll have to send them back to their respective dimensions...

... But till then? You will sure as hell make the most of this mind-blowing multiverse blessing. Maybe if the sex keeps on being this epic they won’t even dream of leaving. Just won’t even...

And you’ll be more than happy to host them forever in this dimension. Can’t imagine any damn thing better than five incarnations of Charlie, right here fucking you in your bedroom. Because honestly, five shades of Hunnam... are five shades of heaven.

***************

Okayyyyy so I know this was FUCKING INSANE FILTHY SHIT but I hope there are some kinky bitches out there who enjoyed it! And would love to hear if you did!! 🤪

– Main Masterlist

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viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Seals of the Lost - Chapter I

Summary: You and Henry cross paths, and the truth behind the disc Henry has is revealed.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 8,080

Warning: PG - RPF, Language, Magic, Stalking, Deception, Death, Light Bullying

Inspiration: This comes from several sources. XD

Author's Note: Thanks to @wondersofdreaming for her wonderous Beta skills and helping me world build and world out my idea for this story!

Tag List Blog: @viking-raider-taglist

After nearly a week of searching for information on the disc that came in the box his mother sent him, Henry finally found someone in central London, with a doctorate's degree in archaeology, that could potentially shed some light on what it was, and drove out to meet them.

“Mr. Cavill?” The archaeologist asked, coming out of his office.

“Yes.” Henry replied, politely extending his hand.

“I'm Dr. Rick O'Connell II.” He introduced himself, shaking Henry's hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Henry nodded, smiling softly.

“Your message said, you had a strange little artifact in your possession and would like to learn anything you could about it.” Dr. O'Connell said, showing Henry into his spacious and bright office.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

Henry confirmed, his eyes going to the glass cases, picture frames and artifacts hanging around Dr. O'Connell's office. The small spark inside of Henry that had once wanted to be an Egyptologist and Historian, before becoming an actor, flared to life as he approached one of the tall glass display cases, filled with artifacts from Egypt and a few that looked to be from Asia; one of which was a pale stone and gold jar with the head of Anubis.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” Dr. O'Connell smiled, seeing Henry had been drawn to it, many people often were. “My grandparents were on the expedition that uncovered them.” He commented, stopping beside Henry.

“Seriously?” Henry replied, shaking his head and blinked at Dr. O'Connell with surprise.

“Yes.” Dr. O'Connell nodded, proudly. “My father, Alex, named me after my grandfather. My grandparents met shortly before the expedition and fell in love during it, married, and had him. They made a life of it and these are some of the artifacts from their expeditions together.”

“The others are from yours?” Henry asked, moving to another case.

“Yes, they are.”

Henry stared at the other objects for a moment longer, before turning towards him. “I'm sorry, I came here to talk to you about my object and I'm busy gawking at yours, like a schoolboy on a field trip.” He chuckled and blushed, quite abashed.

“It's quite all right.” Dr. O'Connell laughed, motioning towards a chair in front of his desk, before taking his own behind it. “So, let's take a look at what you have, Mr. Cavill.” He said, holding his hand out over his desk.

“Yes, right.” Henry nodded, taking the disc out of the protective pouch he had put it in and handed it over to him.

Dr. O'Connell frowned at the disc, turning it over in his hands as he observed it. “Well, I can tell you it's made of granite.” He said, pulling open a drawer in his desk to remove a small tape measure, then set the disc on his desk and took measurements of it. “Thirteen centimeters by thirteen centimeters.” He stood up next and crossed the room and gently laid the disc on a padded scale.

“And just under a kilogram in weight.” He returned to his desk and sat down, pulling out a magnifying glass next. “This symbol is quite strange.” He commented, holding the magnifying glass up to it.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Henry agreed with him, biting his lip as he watched him examine the disc. “It looks like some strange lizard.” He commented on it.

“Yes, a lizard.” Dr. O'Connell agreed, looking up from the magnifying glass and disc, in thought. “A dragon.” He nodded, looking back down at it. “A dragon's head, breathing out fire.”

“Does that mean something?” Henry asked, licking his lips and feeling his heart start to pound.

Dr. O'Connell set the disc and magnifying glass down. “There's this ghost story you hear, if you're in my line of work long enough, especially if you're out in the field digging around. My dad told it to me once, when I was a lad.” He started to explain to Henry, leaning back in his chair and staring out the large wall of windows to their left, with the muffle of traffic coming through from below.

“There used to be this group of people, an ancient civilization, that believed, heavily, in Dragons. It was said they were real-”

“The people or the Dragons?” Henry asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Both.” Dr. O'Connell chuckled at him. “As I was saying, they were real, and these people and Dragons lived together, as one. They supposedly did everything together and held highly sacred bonds to one another, giving the people powers, the ability to do magic, long life and many other things.”

“But, their main task, they kept the world at peace.”

“So, what happened to them?” Henry asked, shaking his head, not completely believing him, but enthralled by the story nonetheless.

“No one knows.” Dr. O'Connell shrugged. “There are theories. But, very few things have ever been found about them. I could fill a shoe box with what's been found on them. Most of what we know has been a story from an odd book or scroll, mythology or lore from some culture all across the world, pieced together. A few dusty unexplained bones that some scholar, archaeologist or theorist thinks belong with them.”

“Do you think this has to do with them?” Henry frowned, his brow pinched in conflict.

Dr. O'Connell rubbed his face, twisting back and forth in his chair, and stared at the disc. “I'm not sure.” He replied, honestly. “But, something in my gut tells me otherwise.” He admitted, letting out a huff of air.

“Is it all right if I take some photos of it, Mr. Cavill?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Of course, anything to help you identify what it is.” Henry nodded, eagerly.

Dr. O'Connell removed his mobile from his pocket and snapped several photos of the disc. “I'll contact some of my colleagues and send them the photos, see what they have to say about the artifact and what we can find out about it.” He said, picking it up and holding it out to Henry. “Once, and if,” He laughed, smiling. “we come to a conclusion on what it is, or isn't, I'll give you a ring and tell you.”

“I would really appreciate it.” Henry replied, taking the disc and tucking it back into its little pouch, before standing up and extending his hand out to Dr. O'Connell again. “Thank you.” He smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Have a good day, Mr. Cavill.” Dr. O'Connell smiled back.

“You as well.” Henry replied, before parting ways with him.

Dr. O'Connell moved over to his windows and watched the street below, chewing on his bottom lip until he saw Henry appear in the crowded sidewalk and turn down the street towards the parking garage he had parked his car in, then turned back towards his desk, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair.

“Molly, I'm going out.” He called out to his secretary, rushing down the hall towards the elevators.

Riding the lift down to the main floor, O'Connell rushed onto the street and the opposite way Henry had gone, frantically dialing a number on his mobile, before pressing it to his ear. “It's Rick O'Connell.” He said, when the line picked up. “You told me to call you, if I ever found anything that looked Dragonic.”

“Have you?” A raspy, deep voice replied on the other end of the line.

Dr. O'Connell pulled his mobile away from his ear and sent the connected number the photos he took of Henry's disc, then put the phone back to his ear. “I'm pretty sure.” He replied, out of breath.

“Do you have it with you?”

“No. I wasn't sure if it was the real thing or not. So, I let the guy that brought it to me, take it back with him.” He explained, getting a sick feeling in his stomach, stopped in his tracks and turned around, but didn't see anything behind him, but Londoners going about their daily business. “I can contact him and get it back, if you like?”

“That's not necessary, Dr. O'Connell.” The voice replied, their tone never changing. “Just give me their name and I'll take care of the rest.”

“His name is Henry Cavill.” Dr. O'Connell informed the voice, before the line went dead.

The air in the small meadow was cool and shaded by the clustered ring of trees that surrounded it, as a soft breeze stirred the short stemmed wild flowers in the tall grass, before a shimmering blue light glowed softly in the center of it, and a moment later, with a small rush, you stepped through and the glow dissipated.

You sighed, rubbing the glowing mark on your forearm, before pulling your sleeve down to cover it. A bark filled the air, before a massive black and white dog came tearing into the meadow through the trees and right up to you, his long pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

“Hey, there.” You smiled at him, as he barked several times and ran several circles around you. “You're a playful, little guy.” You chuckled at him, bending over to pet him as he came up to you, but turned sharply and ran off again. “Oh, you faked me out.” You roared, thoroughly amused by the dog's antics.

“Kal!” A deep voice shouted through the trees in the direction the dog had come from.

“Is that your name?” You asked, turning to see the dog busy going number two. “Kal.”

“Oh, hello.”

You looked away from Kal and faced the owner of the voice. “Hi, I'm guessing this is your dog.” You said to him, motioning behind you.

“Yeah. Kal, are you bothering this nice lady.” He asked the pup, a feeling of shy apprehension in his chest as you looked him over, waiting for your brain to click and realize who he was and start freaking out, asking for a photo and autograph from him.

“Oh, not at all.” You replied, chuckling as Kal ran up to you again, actually letting you pat him on the head this time, before dashing over to his owner.

“I'm Henry, by the way.” He introduced himself, with a sweet smile, realizing you either didn't recognize who he was or you were being polite enough not to freak out on him.

“Pleasure to meet you, Henry.” You replied, offering him your own name.

“I don't think I've seen you around before.” Henry commented, tilting his head at you. “Then again, I have just moved in a couple of months ago.” He blushed, biting the corner of his lip.

You chuckled at him, brushing your fingers through your hair. “I live just across the way.” You said, pointing in the opposite direction of the trees. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” You greeted him.

“Thanks.” Henry smiled at you, leaning down to rub Kal's ears. “What are you doing out here?” He asked, motioning around the meadow.

“Oh.” You blinked around the meadow, grasping for a reason. “I went to the little park that's nearby and dropped my house keys.” You grinned, giving off the vibe that you felt like a complete idiot for your mistake. “I've come looking for them, when I ran into your adorable pooch.” You said, looking at Kal.

“Do you need any help looking for them?” Henry offered, politely.

“I would hate to put you out.” You said, shaking your head at him, gulping.

“It's no issue at all.” He replied, shaking his head back at you. “It's not like I'm not going back that way.” He chuckled, tilting his body in that direction.

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, then flexed your fingers at your side, like a wave, and the mark on your forearm warmed. “I suppose an extra pair of eyes would make the task go faster.” You giggled, biting your lip and berating yourself for not being more careful.

“Never hurts.” Henry grinned at you, laughing as Kal jumped up on him, putting Henry's forearm gently in his mouth and tried to pull him down. “Come on now, Bear. Let's help find her keys.” He said to him, wrangling his arm out of Kal's mouth and corralled him through the trees, where there was a small dirt path that edged around the ring of trees and his property.

“So, where did you move here from?” You asked, eyes glued to the ground in your key search.

“London.” Henry replied, his own eyes searching the tall grass at the edges of the path. “So much of my life is busy, fast paced and noisy, I just wanted a nice and quiet place, where I could go, that was relatively secluded, so I could relax and decompress.”

“I can understand that.” You nodded, licking your lips and glancing over at him. “There's something about having your own little world. A place to yourself, so you can be yourself, without the worry of others judging you and disrupting your peace.”

Henry paused and looked over at you, dumbfounded that you had nailed precisely how he felt about why he moved out of London and into the English countryside. “Exactly.” He replied softly, blinking and licking his lips, his heart pounding.

“Ah-ha!” You exclaimed, seeing the glint of sunlight on the silver ring key ring and hooked your finger through it. “Found them.” You grinned at Henry, holding them up for him to see. “Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem.” He smiled back at you, even though it didn't quite meet his blue eyes. “Um,” He bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder. “Would you like a cup of coffee or maybe some tea?” He asked, looking back at you, with a brow lifted in hope.

“I just live right there.” He said, pointing a thumb to the two story house behind him.

You looked between Henry to his house, then glanced down as Kal barked and bumped into your legs, like he was begging you to take his owner's invitation. Letting out a soft chuckle, you reached down and scratched Kal's back, making his back leg go wild.

“Sure, a cup of tea sounds nice.” You replied, looking up at Henry, kindly.

“Cool.” Henry grinned, relieved and excited.

The pair of you crossed his backyard and stepped onto his patio, before Henry politely excused himself and rushed through the sliding glass door into his house, leaving Kal to entertain you for several minutes, while he threw together a cup of coffee for himself and a mug of tea for you. He brought them out, setting down a little thing of sugar and creamer, unsure how you took your tea, before the two of you sat down at the little patio table he had set up out there.

“So, how long have you lived in the neighborhood?” He asked, sipping his coffee and lifted his brows at you.

“Not long.” You replied, holding your warm cup in your hands and giggled as Kal frantically dug a hole a short distance away. “A little more than a year.” You explained, taking a gulp of your tea, turning your eyes back to Henry.

“City life is not for you either?” Henry laughed, setting his coffee cup down on the patio table.

“I try to avoid it as much as possible.” You grinned at him, your eyes guarded.

“You're not from around here, are you?” He asked, tilting his head at you, brow drawn together. “Your accent is nothing I've ever heard before.” He commented, he had been trying to place it since encountering you in the meadow.

“No, I'm not.” You shook your head at him, shyly dropping your eyes to your teacup. “My family are kind of like gypsies. They travel around Europe a lot, living their own life, on their own terms. So, I've picked up bits and pieces growing up and it sorta mashed into an accent that doesn't really belong to a specific place.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“People always try guessing where I'm originally from with it, but never get it right.” You added, amused.

“So, what made you settle in England?”

You shrugged your shoulders at him, then smiled as Kal trotted over to you, dropping a filthy tennis ball into your lap. “I wanted to put down roots.” You replied, taking up the ball and tossed it for Kal.

“Plus, I got a good job here.”

“What do you do?”

“Mainly, I'm a dog walker.” You replied, taking the ball Kal brought back to you. “But, I do some dog sitting on the side as well.” You told Henry, throwing the ball for him again.

“That explains a bit of why Kal likes you so much.” Henry commented, watching Kal's mad dash for the neon yellow ball across the yard. “He usually doesn't bring his favorite ball to people he's just met.” He explained, watching Kal charge back towards you with the dirt and slobber covered ball in his mouth.

“I've always had an affinity with animals.” You smiled, gently wrestling the ball out of his mouth and giving another throw, a bit further this time, then shivered.

“Are you all right?” Henry frowned at you, seeing the soft tremor rock your body. “Are you cold?” He asked, it was a bit brisk outside.

“No, I'm fine.” You chuckled, sitting your almost empty cup down on the table in front of you and stood. “I should really be going. I have some work I need to be doing.”

“Oh.” Henry replied, saddened, and stood with you. “I shouldn't have kept you so long, I'm so sorry.”

“It's quite all right, Henry.” You assured him with a soft smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.” You told him and Kal as he returned. “And, thank you for helping me find my keys.”

“Of course.” He nodded, forcing a smile. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“See you, Kal.” You smiled at the Akita patting him on the head, then nodded to Henry and started back off towards the meadow.

You were just inside the ring of trees and about to roll up the sleeve of your shirt, when you heard feet on the path behind you, then the sound of Henry calling out your name, and yanked your sleeve down and turned around to see what it was he wanted.

“Are you all right?” You asked, lifting your brows at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, a little out of breath from running after you. “I was wondering, if you weren't busy and didn't mind, since he seemed to have really taken to you and everything.” He babbled on. “If you could take Kal on a walk for me, tomorrow?” He asked, biting the corner of his lip with shy uncertainty. “I have a bunch of work meetings I have to make and I don't want him to just get stuck around the house or digging even more holes around the property.” He explained to you.

You grinned at him, touched. “Sure, I'd love to.” You agreed, filling him with relief. “Do you have a specific time you would like me to come?”

“Um,” Henry frowned, his brow pinched as he looked at his smartwatch. “The main bulk of them are around noon. So, any time between then and one, if that works for you?” He said, looking back up at you.

“That'll work out fine.” You nodded, smiling.

“Excellent.” Henry grinned, his face lit up with excitement. “Just come round and knock.”

“Will do.” You assured him, amused that you could easily read his face and eyes. “I'll see you tomorrow, Henry.” You chuckled and turned on your heels and continued on into the meadow.

“I can't wait.” Henry replied after you, giddy and nervous.

You continued on through the meadow, unsure if Henry would still be standing in the ring of trees watching you walk in the direction you had told him you lived in. All you needed was for him to see through your ruse. So, you stepped into the furthest set of trees, glancing around to make sure no one was around to witness or stumble upon you leaving. Seeing the coast was clear, you yanked up your sleeve, rubbing the mark on your forearm with the heel of your palm and took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

“Open the way and return me home, Occam.” You called out through an invisible bond that connected you to your true home, like an umbilical cord between a mother and her babe.

The glitter of blue light illuminated the cluster of trees and brush around you, like it had in the middle of the meadow not an hour before, and taking another deep breath, you stepped through it and let it close behind you.

“Did you get it?”

You sighed and rubbed your face. “No, I didn't get it.” You replied, looking at your father. “I ran into an unseen issue.”

“And what issue was that?”

“The guy that has it.” You answered, rubbing the back of your neck.

Your father's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets at your words. “He caught you in his home?”

“Thankfully, no.” You chuckled, patting him on the chest and walked by him. “I crossed through the pocket door, where we suggested I make it.” You explained as the both of you walked towards home. “But, no soon after I arrived, so did his dog. He's adorable too.” You quipped, smiling at the image of Kal in your mind. “He looks like a black and white bear, with a long curly tail!”

“Oh, if I could have brought him home with me-”

“Sweetheart.” Your father snorted, amused and patted you gently on the back. “I'd have to build a whole new world for all the animals you keep wanting to bring back with you.” He laughed, shaking his head at you.

“Tell me what happened.” He gently pressed you back onto the subject.

“Right.” You laughed, shyly. “Well, his dog showed up and he came after him.”

“You're sure it's the same man?”

“I am.” You nodded, heaving a tired sigh. “I saw him outside of that archaeologist's office yesterday morning.”

“Master Simperwill, we've gotten intel on a possible subject.”

Darius looked up from his desk. “A possible subject for what, Vena?” He replied, lifting a brow at her.

“Serpents.” Vena answered him. “An agent in the field, who's been tracking a known Serpent, Tate Forester, followed him to an office in London, England.”

“What kind of office, exactly?” Darius questioned her, his interest peaking.

“From what my agent gathered, he's an archaeologist with a doctorate's degree in the field.” Vena read off a tablet she was holding in her hand. “His knowledge is quite extensive as well, coming from a long line of archaeologists, explorers and historians. It seems he might even know some things about our culture.” She said, glancing up at her boss.

Darius leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Do we know why this Forester went to see the archaeologist?” He asked her, troubled.

“No, he lost track of Forester when he went inside the archaeologist's office.” Vena shook her head.

“What's this archaeologist's name?”

“Um...” Vena flipped through several of the papers clipped to her tablet. “Dr. Richard O'Connell.”

Darius let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his graying hair. “We'll need someone to go and investigate this Dr. O'Connell to find out what it is the Serpents want with him and what he knows about us.”

“I can get one of my agents on it right away, Sir.” Vena nodded at him, turning towards the door.

“No.” Darius replied, shaking his head, having already made up his mind.

“Sir?” She frowned, turning back to him.

“Have my daughter come to my office.” He told her, nodding his head. “Yes, have her come see me.”

“Right away.” Vena nodded back at him, finally leaving his office.

A knock sounded on Darius's door several minutes later. “Come in!”

“You asked for me?” You said, stepping into his office.

“I did.” Darius replied, grinning lovingly at you. “I have something I need you to do.”

“All right.” You nodded and approached his desk, plopping down in a chair in front of it. “What's on your mind?”

“I need you to go into the base world and learn what you can about an archaeologist, Dr. Richard O'Connell. Follow him and learn whatever you can from him.” Darius explained to you.

You blinked at your father, then shook your head at him. “Why?” You asked, frowning.

“Vena thinks he has dealings with the Order of the Serpents.” He replied, biting his lip, worriedly.

“You think a human is in league with the Order of the Serpents?” You echoed, leaning forward in your seat.

“I don't necessarily believe the Doctor is in league with them, but I'm sure they're using humans for their own means.” Darius sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “We need to know what they're using the human for. That's where you come in, daughter.” He explained to you, dropping his hand and looking over at you.

“You're the only one I trust to do it and who knows so much about the Serpents and the base world.”

You rubbed a hand over your face, holding your father's eyes. It was true, you knew a great deal about the Order of the Serpents and the base world, and not from sitting around your people's sanctuary world of Moros reading about them; though you have done your fair share of reading about them. A great deal of your knowledge about your people's enemy came from running into them, while in the human world, or what Morosians called it, the base world. Your job in Moros was keeping them safe, doing recon work in the base world and making sure the Serpents didn't find a way into Moros.

While it was assumed that Alaric had collapsed the world cave on all of Christos's followers the day Darius led the refugees through the door that Marcus, Coda and Ian had opened and closed behind them, before separating, scattering for the safety of the Seals they carried with them.

One man had actually survived, and would go on to create what would become the Order of the Serpents.

Knox Steelmane was ordered to be one of the four to stand by the mouth of the world cave to await Alaric Saintwatcher's arrival. He bounced from foot to foot beside his creature, Kayda, his bladder screaming, as they waited in the brisk air.

“Going to piss yourself, Knox?” One of the other Riders teased him, digging his elbow sharply in Knox's side, with a hearty laugh.

“Go to hell, Jonas.” Knox grumbled back, shoving at the older man away.

“Seems like you're already in it.” One of the other Riders ribbed him, grinning.

“Look!” Jonas yelled out, pointing to the skies overhead.

The group looked to where he was pointing and saw Alaric and Tila making their descent toward them and the mouth of the world cave. They clustered around Alaric and his creature after they landed and approached, closely following them inside.

“Where are the rest of your brats?” Christos's voice echoed over to Alaric.

Knox listened to Christos and Alaric bicker back and forth with each other, still fidgeting and trying to ignore the fact he still had to piss. But, it quickly became clear to him that he couldn't hold it any longer or he would be peeing his britches. So, pretending to look at something behind his creature, Knox sneaked outside, quickly rushing behind the nearest tree, pulling open the strings at the front of his trousers and started relieving himself. He was mid-stream when he felt the first tremor rock the ground, making him stumble and stagger on his feet, urine getting on his boots.

“What the hell was that?” He snapped, fumbling to quickly retie the strings of his pants, as another shock wave rocked the earth beneath his feet.

Abandoning the rest of ties to his pants, Knox tripped and fumbled back towards the world cave his companions and leader were still in. But, as he rounded the corner of a tall rock formation, sprinting down the path to the cave, he heard the screams of his friends and the creatures inside, he was forced to skid to a halt as the entrance collapsed, blocking his only way inside.

“No, no no!” He screamed, rushing up to the dusty rubble, tossing what he could lift out of the way, desperate to get back inside. “Kayda!” He screamed for his creature, feeling her terror and injury through their bond, like it was his own agony. “Jonas! Christos! Kayda!” He wailed, still tearing at the rocks blocking the entrance, cutting and hurting his hands on the jagged granite rocks.

“No.” He whimpered, dropping to his knees and slumping against the landslide, tears streaking through the dirt and dust covering his face, sobbing as he felt the painful flickering of Kayda's life force inside of him. “Don't go.” He begged her dwindling life, clawing at the dirt and rock around him, as if he could keep Kayda alive by sheer will.

“Please, don't go.” He whimpered. “I need you.” He sniveled, but felt the last thread of Kayda's life break and fade.

Knox dropped his head back and let out an agonizing, heart wrenching howl, his eyes glowing the moss green of Kayda's scales. Taking a few moments, Knox dragged himself onto his feet, his arms limp at his sides, but his shoulders were stiff with grief and anger, as was his dusty and tear-stained face.

A dark hatred encrusted Knox's heart that day, he vowed to make those that had followed Alaric and opposed Christos pay for killing them, turning Christos into a martyr and championed his cause. He drudged through the roads to the sanctuary Alaric and the others had stayed in, while the two sides battled. But, when he reached the gates, he found no guards, no one alerted to his presence and reacting to it.

Suspicious and careful, in case it was another ambush, Knox moved around the tall, stone wall of the building; he didn't see a single living soul, not a single Rider or Creature in sight. He made it to the south gate and found it ajar, his suspicion growing as he approached. Closing his hand around the pummel of his sword and slipping through the open gap, Knox pulled his sword, gripping it tight, as his eyes scanned the stone and wooden structures, the worn leather soles of boots squelching as he moved slowly through the ankle deep muddy pathways, but the only things that stirred were things blown by the wind. Lowering his sword, Knox let out a roar of anger, kicking a wooden crate and sending it flying across the street, then staked his sword in the mud.

“Where could they have all gone?” He huffed, pacing in his agitation.

Yanking his sword out of the ground and sheathing it on his hip again, he began picking his way through the buildings, looking for any clues to the group's whereabouts, when he found the war room Alaric, Darius and Marcus had been using during the conflicts, finding the maps and open books they had been referencing and studying before they put their plan into motion to stop Christos and take everyone to safety through the door into the new world.

Leaning over the table, Knox picked up one of the books and lifted a brow at the page it had been left on.

“Edward William's Theory.” He read at the top of the page, blindly pulling out a chair and sitting down as he read the material. “They can't possibly think this could work.” He huffed, tossing the book back onto the table, leaning forward to look at the maps, drumming his fingers on the table as he studied them. “But, where could they have gone, without people noticing that many Riders and creatures were on the move.” He reasoned with himself, reaching out to take up the book again, tapping his finger against the page.

Hell bent on finding out where the others went, Knox gathered every scrap of material that was on the table, every book, map and sheet of paper, whether they had connection to their plans or not. He studied them in and out and became convinced they had managed to replicate the theory. So sure of it, Knox created his own group of followers, the Order of the Serpents, to keep Christos plan alive to grant rightful control over the Riders and creatures, to rule over the world, as they felt they should.

But, first, Knox and his group of Serpents needed to discover where Marcus, Ian and Coda had vanished to with the three Seals that would open the door to Moros, and they had spent the last few centuries trying to track them down.

To no avail, until, a fated phone call from a certain archaeologist.

“All right, I'll leave right away, then.” You sighed, nodding your head at your father.

“Excellent.” Darius nodded back at you. “Try to stay out of trouble, hm?” He grinned at you, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“Who, me?” You grinned back at him, a similar sparkle in your own eyes. “Always.” You chuckled, standing. “I'm as troublesome as a church mouse.”

“Of course you are.” He echoed, huffing with amusement. “Now, I want you to go and see Vena, she has a majority of the details on the subject and she can suggest a place for you to pocket into.” He instructed you.

“Will do, papa.” You nodded, heading for the door.

“I want you back, as soon as you find out anything!” He added, calling out after you.

You made a motion with your hand, signaling to him that you heard what he said, before finding your way to Vena's office down the way. “My father said you have the details for my mission into the base world.” You said, lifting a brow at her.

“Yes.” Vena nodded, looking up from a map. “I was just looking for a place you could pocket into.” She explained, looking back down at the map, which you recognized as a map of London. “The archaeologist's office is just here.” She said, sticking a pin near the central part of London.

“I've been to several places around that area.” You commented, leaning over the map and narrowing your eyes at it. “I've created a pocket door into an establishment that's just here, more than once.” You explained, taking up a pin and poking it into the map several streets down from Dr. O'Connell's office.

“It's a big box store of theirs, they never notice me coming in and out of it.”

“Great.” Vena smiled up at you. “Then, that can be your point of entry and exit.”

“Is there anything else I need to know about this guy?” You asked, studying her.

“The archaeologist or the Serpent?” She asked, lifting a brow at you.

“Either? Both?” You replied, shaking your head.

“Well, the Archaeologist is one Richard O'Connell, he's quite distinguished in his occupation, as are several in his family. He doesn't seem to have any criminal or nefarious deeds and background that I or my agents could find.” Vena answered, shuffling papers around. “As for Tate Forester, the Serpent, his record is extensive. He has several arrests, some for theft, breaking and entering and assault. He's even done time.”

“So, he's a nasty one.”

“I've dealt with worse.” You commented, offhandedly, then glanced at one of the two clocks on Vena's wall. “It's almost seven am in the base world, I should get going.” You said, making a few calculations in your head.

“Yes, you should.” Vena nodded, biting her lip.

“Right.” You nodded back at her, smiling softly. “I'll see you later, Vena.” You chuckled, seeing yourself out of her office, then went to the house you lived in and changed into an outfit that would allow you to blend in with the humans, and a small backpack of items you might need. “Hey, Occam.” You smiled, stepping outside and happily greeting your creature as he landed before you.

“I've got some business to do in the base world.” You told him, stroking his snout. “I shouldn't be gone for too long.” You said, opening the bond between the pair of you. “You behave and don't go bullying Mundu, while I'm gone either.” You added, smirking at his huff and the rattle of his scales as he shook his mighty head at you.

“All right, Occam, let's open a portal.”

You pulled up the sleeve of the hoodie you were wearing and pressed your palm to his head, both your and Occam's eyes closing, feeling the warm tingle of your shared magic undulating between you. A gentle breeze stirred around the two of you, the mark on your forearm grew warm and glowed as the bright blue pocket door opened beside you. Patting Occam, you turned and stepped through the portal, then with a rush and a pop in your ears, you found yourself in a cramped dressing cubicle with mounted full-length mirrors on three sides and discarded clothes and hangers strewn about.

Turning, you opened the latch to the door and stepped out of the changing room, pausing for a moment to watch the oblivious shoppers, pushing their carts, stopping at racks of clothing or purchasing their items. Sighing, you slipped into the flow of the crowd and out the front doors to the street, taking a moment to orient yourself and headed in the direction of O'Connell's office.

You looked up at the tall office building and headed inside, checking the nameplates for what floor the archaeologist was on, then bypassed the lifts, having no trust in them, and took the several flights of stairs to the third floor. Coming out on the floor, you glance around, finding a young blonde woman sitting behind a desk, flipping through a magazine, seemingly unaware of your presence, as you approach her, forcing you to clear your throat twice to get her attention.

“Can I help you?” She asked, sticking her nose up at you with extreme distaste.

“Is Mr. O'Connell in?” You asked, narrowing your eyes back at her.

“No, he is not.” She huffed, picking her magazine back up. “He won't be in for at least three hours. He's teaching a two-hour class in Oxford's School of Archaeology this morning at six am, then it's an almost hour and a half train ride back here to London for him.”

You looked up at the clock on the wall above her head, it was just past seven, meaning you had hours before O'Connell showed back up at his office for regular work. “Thanks.” You sighed, but she was already absorbed in her magazine again.

Making your way back downstairs, you popped back out onto the street and turned left, following the flow of foot traffic and shops down to the local Starbucks, to order yourself a tall, blended Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappuccino with whip cream, paying for it with the money you made from a few business dealings you had done, using your skill for tracking and finding people to your advantage in the base world, since Moros didn't have any money or currency. They shared, grew or created what they needed to survive and thrive. It enabled you to have real human money in your pocket, so you could buy things, like coffee from the famous Starbucks, you had seen countless humans carrying around with them, or to buy something to eat, even bring things back to Moros, even different clothes and books. Many types of technology from the base world didn't work in Moros, so you never bothered buying a mobile phone or a laptop.

Though, you had always yearned for one.

Having your coffee in hand, you went back to O'Connell's office building, opting to sit in the building's lobby to wait for his return. Putting your backpack on the floor between your feet and pulling out the novel you had been reading, you slowly sipped on your drink as you thumbed through it; killing the time until Dr. O'Connell arrived from Oxford to his office.

Your coffee was gone and your leg and butt-cheek were starting to fall asleep by the time the door to the building opened, admitting a group of four people, two men and two women. You lifted a brow at them, but kept your eyes on your book, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

“Your lecture was amazing, Dr. O'Connell.” One of the women commented as the group approached the lifts.

You lifted your eyes, watching the two males, to see which of them answered.

“Thank you, Kimmy.” The taller of the two men, with graying blond hair and a pudgy middle replied, smiling at her and pressing the button for the third floor.

You shifted in your seat, watching the group pile into the lift and ride it up. Now that you knew what the good archaeologist looked like, it made your job of tracking him a lot easier. A few minutes later the two girls and the guy came back down in the lift, chatting and holding a copy of a book with O'Connell's face on the back of it; no doubt something written on his career and life. Watching them go out the door, you got up and used the bathroom that was in the lobby, before coming back out and took your seat again, intent on waiting there until O'Connell left for either his lunch break or to go home.

An hour later, the ding for the lift doors echoed through the lobby, catching your attention, as a tall, dark and curly haired man stepped out of them. He was handsome, for sure, but that wasn't the tingle that drew you to him as he walked by you, towards the front doors. There was something about him that called out to you, that made you want to stand up and follow him out of the building, to wherever it was he was going; and you didn't understand why. But, as soon as he was out of the building and you could no longer see him, the tingle flowing in your spine vanished, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

It wasn't five minutes later that Dr. O'Connell came flying through the lobby, his long coat billowing behind him as he yanked his mobile out of his pocket, frantically dialing a number on it. You waited a moment for him to get out onto the street, before stuffing your book back into your backpack and got up, swinging it onto your back, slipping your arms through the straps, and looking left and right, before catching sight of him and dashing in that direction.

You kept at a reasonable distance from Dr. O'Connell, but still close enough to hear him speaking to whoever it was he called.

“It's Rick O'Connell.” He was saying, walking quickly in his agitation. “You told me to call you, if I ever found anything that looked like Dragonic.”

“Dragonic.” You mumbled to yourself, frowning.

“I'm pretty sure.” Dr. O'Connell was explaining to his caller. “No. I wasn't sure if it was the real thing or not. So, I let the guy that brought it to me, take it back with him.” He said, suddenly stopping and turning around, but you casually walked by him, as if nothing was amiss. “I can contact him and get it back, if you like?” He said, frowning to himself and started walking again.

“It was a disc shaped object, with a dragon on it.” He described the object he had called them about. “A man brought it to me, his name is Henry Cavill.”

Your ears perked up at the name and the description of the object. Biting your lip, you picked your pace and headed back towards the department store you had used to enter the base world, sneaking back into the same dressing room and opened a pocket door back to Moros.

“Father!” You shouted, rushing into his office.

“I'm here, I'm here, daughter!” He called back, appearing. “What is it? What's happened? Are you all right?” He asked, looking you over, urgently.

“I'm well.” You assured him, out of breath. “I come with news.”

“Well, sit and catch your breath first, child.” He told you, ushering you to a seat and bringing you a warm cup of tea, with a splash of something stronger in it. “Now, tell me. What is it you've learned?” He asked, leaning back against his desk in front of you.

“I found the archaeologist in his office building, it was easy enough.” You told him, slowly sipping your tea and taking slow, deep breaths. “I had to wait some time for him to show up, he was doing work for one of the base world's schools. But, once he did arrive, it didn't take long for something to happen.” You explained to him.

“And, what did you find?”

“The man, a Henry Cavill, he said his name was...”

“You talked to these men?”

“No.” You shook your head at him. “I talked to only his secretary, to see if he was in. That's how I found out he was not in, at the time. But, Dr. O'Connell wasn't back in his office long after his teaching engagement, when he apparently had a client bring him something. I didn't see the meeting or the object. But, when I saw the man leaving, I felt oddly attracted to him and not because he was handsome either.” You chuckled, hiding your shy smirk in the rim of your cup.

Darius rolled his eyes at you. “The object, did they describe it?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning forward.

“Dr. O'Connell left his office soon after the man, Mr. Cavill, left. He made a phone call to someone. Apparently, he's meant to call them, if he encounters anything, Dragonic, and described the object Mr. Cavill brought to him.”

“It was a round disc with a dragon on one side of it.”

Your father's face fell, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “Dragons.” He whispered, pushing off his desk and began pacing his office.

“It's what they call our creatures.” You said, watching him. “Dragons.”

“Yes.” He nodded, stroking his bearded chin and pinched his bottom lip, as he brooded. “Did the archaeologist have the disc on him?”

“No.” You shook your head. “He said, Cavill still had it with him, because he wasn't sure if the object was the real thing or not.”

Darius turned back to you. “You said, when this Cavill was leaving, you were drawn to him, and not just because of his looks.”

“Yes, I wanted to follow him, to go with him. There was a tingle up my spine, like the feeling I get when I use my magic with Occam.” You explained to him, frowning and tilting your head at him.

“By the Order,” Your father gasped. “He's in possession of one of the Seals.”

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years

Text

stargazing (bucky barnes x fem!reader)

a/n: so this idea totally just came to me because this trope is honestly so cute and i love these and i need to get this out of my system. i listened to stargazing by the neighborhood while writing this and i LOVE this song, so i’d recommend listening while reading! (just listen to the whole album).

also-- happy new year! 2020 quite literally fucked us up but im so grateful this year was the one where i decided to come on here and share my work with yall. i love every single one of my readers, so THANK YOU! anyways, without further ado...

enjoy my dearies!!! -ali

wc: 2.8k

When you first became best friends with Rebecca Barnes in preschool, the last place you’d expected to end up was with a massive crush on her older brother.

James, or Bucky, as he likes to be called my his close friends, was basically the perfect guy for you. He was kind, witty, and didn’t treat you like a child. (Anymore).

Now that you had graduated high school and were in you first year of college, Bucky was in his second year. And things were getting rough.

You were a Cognitive Psychology major, and your main interest was in becoming an occupational therapist. You were attending Columbia University.

And of course, so was Bucky, studying English Literature. Rebecca was studying at FIT, her main interest being in fashion design. All three of you couldn’t bear to leave New York City, so you all decided to stay nearby.

Since all three of you were in the same area, more or less, you three remained close and tight-knit. Since you were still a freshman, you decided to dorm on campus, while Rebecca and Bucky did the same. Bucky was in a fraternity, so he had a place in the house, and you often found yourself hanging out in his room, having been introduced to most of his brothers.

Like today, it was Thursday night, and your classes were cancelled for tomorrow. You were in no rush to get back to your room, and your roommate was also out at her boyfriend’s. Rebecca thought you were finishing up an essay, though.

“Y/N, you’re crashing here tonight?” Bucky’s voice caused his chest to rumble under your place on it.

“Yeah, is that alright?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Of course, Y/N/N.” He smiled back down at you, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest at your doe eyes.

She’s your sister’s best friend. Becca would hate you.

“I’m gonna wash up before I fall asleep, Buck.” You said with a yawn, lifting yourself off of Bucky’s warm, comfortable bed.

Bucky watched your form disappear out of his room to the bathroom next door, his chest deflating with a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

I’m so fucked.

Making your short walk to the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts, and you really didn’t know what to do in this current situation.

You and Becca had been best friends since you were both in preschool.

And now you were pretty certain that you had the biggest crush known to humankind on her older brother.

Staring at your reflection in the mirror as you pat your face dry, you wondered what would happen if this went further.

What would happen if you told Bucky that you liked him?

What would Becca do if she knew you liked her brother?

Shaking your head at yourself, you knew you couldn’t do that to Becca. She’s been there for you through everything that’s happened to you. To just turn around and tell her that you’ve fallen for her brother- you don’t know if that would be the right thing to do.

But how could you just outwardly deny your feelings for Bucky?

A knock on the bathroom door drew you out of your thoughts, letting whoever was knocking know that they could come in.

“Hey, Y/N, how ya been?” It was one of Bucky’s closest friends whom you also knew growing up, Steve Rogers.

“Hey Steve, I’m good. How ‘bout you?” You asked, getting ready to head back to Bucky’s room.

“Good, good, y’know, Peg’s keepin’ me on my toes.” He flashed you a smile, a blush creeping up on his face at the mention of his girlfriend.

“Aw, Stevie’s in loooove,” You sing-songed, pinching his cheek.

“Well, I think I could say the same for you, Y/N/N.” Steve scoffed back in retort, but your breath hitched at the words.

“Shut up, Steve...” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers.

“Y/N, I’m serious... You and Buck ‘ve been spending a lot of time together and I can tell. He’s my best friend, and I know when my best friend is taken for someone. Trust me, Y/N, your feelings aren’t one-sided.” And with that, he steps into the bathroom, leaving you reeling at his words.

Lost in your thought again, you walked back to Bucky’s room. You tucked yourself under his warm duvet, as you fell into a deep slumber with his arm wrapped around your waist, thinking about the weight of it around you as you fell asleep.

The next morning was... quiet... to say the least. After your encounter with Steve in the bathroom, you really didn’t know how to feel about your feelings towards Bucky. He felt the tenseness that was rolling off of you in waves, making him wonder if he did something to make you upset.

Bucky wondered if he was doing too much, wondering if he had caused you to be uncomfortable with him for some reason.

So naturally, he pulled back.

As the days went on and got colder, you found yourself spending more time in your dorm, or places that weren’t associated with Bucky in your mind.

And it was safe to say the both of you were losing it.

Bucky was slowly losing his composure, where he would participate the most in his seminar classes, he was quiet and folded in on himself, losing his confidence.

Where you were the most outspoken on certain topics in your classes, you became a bit of a hermit.

And almost everyone noticed.

Most notably, Becca and Steve.

When you returned from class at the end of a long week without Bucky, you invited Becca over to have take out in your room.

“So, how’s your week been?” She asks, reaching into your takeout box and grabbing a piece of garlic honey chicken.

Rolling your eyes, you say “Fine, same old. You? How’d that design project go?”

“It was awesome! My professor really loved my piece, she said it was one of the ‘most original takes’ on this project she’s seen!” Becca was ecstatic and you were so proud of her.

“That’s so awesome, Bec! One day you’re gonna have to make me something that I can wear, and when someone asks me where I got it, I’ll just say, ‘oh, sorry my best friend made it, you’ll have to wait ‘til it hits the runways to buy it.’” You laugh, pointing your chopsticks at her.

“Y/N, stop, you flatterer.” She smirked, looking back down at her food. “Hey, I’ve also been meaning to ask... have you noticed Bucky acting weird as of late, or anything? Is it just me or is he like... way more quiet than usual?” Becca asked inquisitively.

“Oh- uh, I actually have no idea. I haven’t really seen him that much this week. Just around campus here and there.” You shrug your shoulders, the pit in your stomach nagging at you.

“Really? You guys usually hang out more often...” She responds, and your face burns in embarrassment.

“Wh- How do you know how often your brother and I hang out?” Your voice didn’t even feel like your own as you spoke, quickly occupying it with food.

“Well, he does live with Steve... Apparently you’re around there pretty often.” Rebecca eyes you, seeing your body language and how uncomfortable you seem. “Y/N... If you like my brother, that’s okay. I think you guys would be cute together. And I can tell you like him, so don’t try to deny it.” Becca smiles, reaching to rest a hand on yours in comfort.

“Wh- You don’t care?” You ask in confusion, expecting a bit of a more dramatic reaction.

“Of course I care, I care about my two favorite people being happy. And if they’re happy together, then that’s even better!” She explains, and your head spins.

“I- I’m telling you this in confidence, Becca. You can’t tell anyone, not Steve, not Peggy, and absolutely not Bucky...” She nods, moving closer to you. “I...I do like Bucky. A lot. But I don’t think he likes me that way. I mean, just look at his exes. I’m not like Natasha, or those gorgeous girls. And what if he just sees me as his friend. Like a little sister?” You finish, your hands flailing around and out of breath.

“Y/N... I know my brother, but I can’t read his mind. If I had to take a wild guess... I’d say he likes you too. Based on what Steve tells me, based on how Bucky acts when you come up in conversation... his eyes light up, dude. I think you need to talk to him, face to face.” Rebecca explains, giving her best advice. “You both deserve to be happy, and I think you could both give that to each other.” She softly smiles.

“Thanks, Becca. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You laugh, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll talk to him.”

In the frat house across the campus, Steve and Bucky were sitting in the living room amongst some of their other brothers.

“Buck, what’s been up with you this week?” Tony, a senior and president of the frat asks from the kitchen.

“Hm?” Bucky looks up, confused at the question.

“You’ve been... off all week long.” Sam chimes in from next to him on the couch, eyes leaving the football match on the TV.

“I’m fine, why?” Bucky deflects, taking a sip of his drink in hand.

“Whatever you say, but I have a feeling this has to do with Y/N... haven’t seen her around here at all this week.” Tony points out, plopping down on a futon.

Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at his phone that he’s been on all night.

Little did Bucky know, Rebecca was feeding him information about you to him directly, trying to make sense of his friend’s odd behavior this week.

His eyes shot to Bucky’s, trying to gauge his reaction to Tony’s mention of you.

“Yeah, she’s been.... busy, I guess. Haven’t really talked to her.” Bucky says nonchalantly.

“Why not? You two are basically attached at the hip... like, Friday nights are usually your thing together. I thought you’d man up and ask her out already.” Sam’s response caused a stillness in the room, everyone looking at Bucky for his next move.

But it was quiet.

“She’s... she’s my sister’s best friend... I don’t think Becca would appreciate me taking her best friend out to dinner.” Bucky said in a low voice, clearing his throat.

“Have you asked her how she feels about it?” Thor asks from his spot on the other couch. “Maybe she’s fine with it, she doesn’t seem to be too stuck up...” He suggests.

“My sister isn’t stuck up, man. Watch it.” He responds defensively.

“I wasn’t saying that! But you should talk to her about it, that’s all I’m saying!” Thor fights back.

“I just- I don’t know, last week when Y/N was here, she went to the bathroom to wash up at night, and when she came back she was acting totally different. She’s usually comfortable around me, but she was acting like... like she was uncomfortable around me. I thought I did something to make her feel that way, so I kinda backed off this week.” Bucky explains, trying to understand what went wrong.

“Well, did she say anything? Did she try to reach out this week?” Tony asks.

“I mean, she texted me a few times, but it was casual conversation. I can’t tell how she’s feeling. I like her, but I don’t want to make things weird for her and Becca, or Becca and I.”

And this is where Steve chimes in.

“I mean, come on Buck, it’s obvious she likes you too. I think you need to talk to her, because Becca wants you two to be happy. I don’t think she’d care that much, y’know?”

“But what if I make things awkward? Like, what if I read the signals wrong this whole time, and she doesn’t even really like me?” Bucky was now going into a deep spiral, and Steve needed to pull him out, fast.

“Buck, I don’t think so. You should talk to her, face to face.” Steve encouraged.

“You think so?” Bucky wasn’t so convinced.

“Yes!” A chorus of voices echoed in the house, causing Bucky to jump to his feet, ready to confront this head-on.

“Okay, yeah, yes, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. I got this, I’ll be fine-” But his pumping-up session was cut short from the doorbell ringing through the house.

Steve got up, “I got it.” He simply said, smirking mischievously as he turned to face the door and twisted the knob.

And of course, it was none other than you.

“Hey Buck? I think it’s for you!” Steve yells from the doorway, stepping out of the way and directing everyone in the living room to hide out of sight. Of course, they were all still eavesdropping and lurking about.

“Doll, what’re ya doin’ here?” Bucky was beyond confused, you timing was impeccable.

“I-I have some things I wanna talk about. I just, I think we need to talk.” You say, looking up at him.

“Y-Yeah, come inside, it’s freezing out. What’s up, doll?” He asks, pulling you into the house and into the living room, sitting down next to you on a couch, making sure to face you.

“Everything’s alright... but I need to get this off my chest before I go crazy-” You stop yourself from rambling further. “I was having dinner with Becca earlier, and we... talked... about some things. And apparently, someone was telling her about all the time we spend together.” Bucky was listening, but cursing Steve in his head, knowing he was behind it.

“And I know last week I was acting weird, but I promise, it wasn’t because of something you did. Well, it kinda was, b-but not something bad, y’know?” You explain, trying to get Bucky to understand how you feel.

“Whaddaya mean, doll? If I did something, tell me, because I would never want to hurt you-” He started, trying to pinpoint his actions.

“You made me like you! There, you happy?” You exclaim, hands covering your cherry red face. “I said it! I like you. And I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m just your little sister’s annoying friend, I get it-”

But instead of the feeling of rejection, you were met with Bucky’s lips on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Bucky was kissing you.

Bucky was kissing you!

Holy fuck!

What. The. Fuck.

But before you could overthink anything, you heard loud whoops and cheers coming from all around you.

“What the hell? Steve?” You asked, looking around, trying to process the last minute.

“Finally! Took ya two idiots long enough! God, Becca and I didn’t know how much longer we’d have to be your freakin’ puppet masters.” He laughed from his spot in the kitchen.

“Come on doll, let’s go upstairs to talk, where we could have some privacy...” Bucky said pointedly, looking at his brothers as they kept cheering as you two made your way up the stairs.

Once the door closed behind you two, you were quite literally speechless.

“You kissed me.” You pointed out the obvious, since your mind was still reeling.

“I did.” Bucky simply answers.

“...Why?” You ask, like an idiot.

“Because, for the past three years I’ve had the biggest crush known to man on you... and I knew if I didn’t kiss you then, I never would. Kind of a life or death situation here, doll.” He jokes trying to gauge your mood.

“Bucky...” You sighed, walking closer to him, holding his face, “you can kiss me whenever you want.” And punctuated your sentence with a kiss.

“Well... then... can I call you my girlfriend?” He asks, looking into your twinkling eyes. Bucky’s large hands cover your waist, pulling you closer against him.

“Yeah... I think you can.” You answer, the sparkle never leaving your eyes.

“Hmmm... finally.” Bucky hums, closing the gap between your lips over and over again.

Your loud giggle fills the room as Bucky peppers kisses all over your face, trying to make up for lost time.

“Hey, make sure to use protection, kids!” someone’s voice comes from down the hall from’s Bucky’s room.

“Shut up, Sam!” You both yell in unison, resuming your previous activities.

And in this moment, there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be.

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