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#and some of you need to take a look inside yourself and chill
zafetycar · 1 day
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taking responsibilty - DR3
⭐︎ daniel ricciardo & reader ('you')
⭐︎ one in which a dispute made him look at you in a way you can’t handle
⭐︎ warnings: angst, fluff
⭐︎ word count: 1.5k
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at this point in the evening, you could barely remember who or what had started it. you couldn’t even tell how long it had been. but there you were, sitting in front of daniel across the room, and the laughter of your friends were no use in drowning out the questions hustling in your mind. 
you searched for his eyes. you needed to see them. to see him. you needed to see if he was feeling the way you do, you needed to find a haven of rest, an ounce of peace in those honey brown eyes. you had to know if he was mad, disappointed, sad, frustrated, morose, if he was still thinking about it, if he had already forgave it all, if his mind was flood with all sorts of thoughts about you, about him, about ‘us’. 
but daniel’s gaze was running away from you, stuck on his friend hosting the dinner. every couple of seconds, you could see his eyes swiftly glancing to his left, discreetly checking to see if yours were still locked on him. though he would never turn and face you, you felt the way his body was slightly tensed, as if he wanted to reach for you and bury himself in the sofa at the same time. you couldn’t figure out if this was a good thing or not. wether this meant he wanted to reach for you, to hold you and forget it all, or if he wanted to leave, to escape the tension that everyone could feel between the two of you and just run away. 
those thoughts muffled the chatter of your friends sitting next to you and blurred your vision with tears.  
after a few minutes, you accepted the fact that you would have to bottle it up and wait until you get back home. 
so you readjusted yourself on the couch, shifted your body towards the rest of the group. you listened to the ongoing conversation, something about two of your friends doing some idiocy at some party. you chuckled a couple of times, let soft smiles hide your sadness and tried to mute the thoughts in your head. 
but you always needed him to do that. 
‘one last look’, and then you would leave this for the rest of the night. 
you composed yourself, turned to your right and met his tired honey brown eyes. 
he was already looking at you. 
you hated these eyes.
you hated these eyes. this one gaze specifically. it’s not the eyes you hated, the warm brown colour had always hypnotised you, and you fell more and more in love with them each day. but this one specific gaze. you had seen it before, the look had appeared on his radiant face when he got into unforgivable arguments with friends. but he never laid these eyes on you, ever, even through the hard times you experienced together. 
sweet brown eyes lit by a feeling of betrayal, disappointment and gloom. 
it made your heart heavy when you stared back at him to realise that this look was obscuring his features because of you. 
tears dwelled up once again and troubled your vision. you looked away, you couldn’t bear the weight of this sight, and the shame engulfing your figure. air, you needed air. 
you stepped outside of the living room, the fresh air of the evening chilling compared to the warm atmosphere of the party inside. you leaned against the railing surrounding the balcony, head hung low, hands fidgeting with your bracelets. outside, in the cold silence of the evening, you rummaged through the thoughts in your head, looking for a way to fix this. 
you looked up to admire the view unveiling ahead of you. a provincial landscape plunged in the dark, the white beam of the moon and stars shining down on the fields and trees. the sight, the cold air and the silence surrounding you helped you ease your mind and body. 
calm enough to recall the argument, it appeared all clearer to you. the nerves. daniel had been away a lot, working hard and spending intense, long and exhausting days putting his energy into one goal only. and you had been by his side. always. long enough to know how cruel and harsh his world is. so you stood by him. you supported him as best as you could, physically and emotionally. it took an vast toll on him, and over time it affected you as well. perhaps not as much, but it still did.
he often tried to do the same for you. but in such times, when his mind was only focused on his one objective, the best he could do was to thank you, in any way he could. try, at least.
a couple minutes before leaving for the diner, when you both were getting ready, a thread of misunderstood comments and awry details led to a confusion between the two of you. as you reminisce about the tone rising, you realise you both could only blame it all on the nerves built up over the past few weeks. 
approaching footsteps brought you out of your mind. a glance over your shoulder, and you recognised the brown curls falling over his forehead. you looked back at the fields unfolding before you. you felt his stiffed body leaning on the balustrade, next to you. daniel’s familiar scent filled the air and the comforting odour made you want to lay on his shoulder. but, before you fixed this situation, you preferred to keep a small distance as to not give any mixed signals. you turn your head to the left, away from his eyes. you feared what you might see in them.
his left hand resting on top of his right one, you could see his pinky searching for yours, for the softness of your skin, for any form of contact with you. he needed you, he needed to touch you, to feel you, to let you know that it was okay, that he wasn’t mad. not anymore
he had cooled down during the past minutes, the ones you spent collecting yourself in the chill air of the night.
you were both ready to discuss it out. 
a soothing breeze blew his scent right to your face again. you couldn’t resist the mix of wine and cologne. as your eyelids fell gently closed, you inched closer towards him, until ultimately your arms met and your head tilted, closer to his shoulder. eventually, you gave in and rested your head completely on him. 
he put a soft, long and gentle kiss on your temple
you had missed that feeling.
“i’m sorry i snapped at you.”
his voice pierced the comfortable silence that had settled between you. he sounded tired, but the sincerity of his words came on top of it. his cheek rested on top of your head. neither of you moving, neither of you wanting to leave the other’s pacifying body. eyes wandering the landscape in front of you. lost in the stars.
“it’s okay.”, you spoke softly. because it was. deep down you knew it was. 
he had been on the edge for weeks.
but it doesn’t mean it didn’t vex you.
finally daniel took your hand in his and played with your fingers. caressing your soft skin. appeasing this urge he had been resisting from for hours. 
“i shouldn’t have. it was stupid, i don’t even remember what it was for honestly.”
you chuckled. “i don’t remember either.”
he laughed. hearing that sound brightened up your mood. it was going to be okay. 
turning your hand, you let your fingers slip between his and closed them, lightly squeezing his hand. 
“i know you’ve been busy, and preoccupied and frustrated with lots of things lately. i’m just trying to help you the best i can.”
“i know, i’m sorry.”, he whispered, head hung low. 
you squeezed his hand a second to seek his attention. his eyes met yours, and shined again. 
your turn to lift his spirits. 
“thank you for what you do. i really appreciate it, it really helps me.”
you smiled to him. “it’s okay.”. he returned a wide grin at you. 
he put his arm around your shoulders, his hand laying on your head to bring it to his lips, and placed another tender kiss on top of it. the warmth of the gesture thawed your heart, body and soul. it was full of love, respect and passion.  
it was so peaceful.
the chilling breeze made its way to you, a signal for you to go back inside. it made you shiver, and it made daniel laugh at you. 
“let’s get you back inside, angel.”
“i love you.”
“i love you.”
back inside the house where the heat turned your cheeks red, you made your way towards the living room. the discussion had raised up a tone, bursts of laughter and proclamations cutting through the air. holding on tightly to your hand behind his back, daniel led you towards the couch he was resting on minutes earlier, sat down and pulled you down with him. settling next to him, you rested your cheeks against his shoulder, and a second later felt the weight of his head upon yours. 
arms intertwined, your hands rested on each others thighs, and he was caressing your delicate skin with his free hand. 
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ps: i loved doing this piece honestly, hope you like it as much as i do!
note: hi! thank you for reading this piece, i hope you enjoyed it ! feedback is very much welcomed :) see you around ★
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mediocre-stories · 18 hours
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I’m Proud of You
TW: mentions of alcoholism, mentions of depression, mentions of death
Authors Note: finally time for some fluff! This story is based off of Shane’s 8 heart event from Stardew Valley! I hope you all enjoy and, as always, feel free to leave any constructive criticism! Thank you!
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It had become a routine for Shane to stop by the farmhouse every Friday after his counselling appointments in Zuzu City.
In the summer you would make a pitcher of iced tea, and the two of you would sit out on the steps of your porch, basking under the sun and sipping on the sugary liquid. As the chill of fall began to fill the air, you switched to meeting inside the farm house. Instead of iced tea, you made hot coca, and instead of the porch, you sat on your couch in front of the fireplace, listening to the crackles and pops of the wood burning as Shane spoke.
He told you about his childhood, how he grew up with parents who expected the best from their only child. He told you how he left home at eighteen. He enrolled under the buisness administration in college, under his father"s wishes, but he quickly learned he hated it. He dropped out after two semesters and never looked back. Once his friends, Jas' parents, passed in a car crash, his alcoholism started. He moved to Stardew Valley after he gained custody of Jas, knowing that he couldn't take care of her on his own. You listened, only inserting your input when you felt it was needed.
You also talked about yourl life on the farm, your childhood, and your past in the city. You laughed at how you piqued Shane's interest when you mentioned your chicken coop.
You liked the friendship you were building with Shane. He was a good person to talk to. He seemed to be the first person in the town to actually listen to you, and you appreciated it.
The last time he visited you, he mentioned he had a surprise. He told you to swing by his house the next day. He seemed nervous as he told you this, fidgeting with his fingers and looking at his worn out shoes. You found yourself thinking he looked cute.
The next day came. After you had finished your morning chores, you headed towards Marnie’s ranch. You entered and were greeted by Jas, who sitting on the couch in the living room. She turned to face you and gave you a small, shy, smile.
“Hi Y/N”
“Hi Jas! Is your Uncle Shane around?” You watched Jas’ eyes sparkle with excitement.
“Oh! Are you here for the surprise?”
“I am!” You smiled.
“Come with me!” Jas leaped up from her spot on the couch and grabbed your hand. She led you out the back door of the ranch. You entered a pasture, there was a small chicken coop to your right. Jas led you towards the coop. You entered the small building and there was Shane, standing on a ladder with his back to you. He was covered in splotches of red paint and his skin had a thin sheen of sweat covering it.
“Uncle Shane, Y/N is here to see you!” Jas chirped.
Shane turned around and gave you a crooked smile. He climbed down from the ladder and approached Jas, ruffling her purple pigtails.
“Thanks kiddo, run along and play now okay?”
Jas nodded at her uncle and left. Shane turned to you.
“Hey Y/N…” he looked nervous again, just like he did when he was standing on your porch the day before, “are you ready for the surprise?”
You gave him a smile and nodded. He bent down and picked up a small object. He held it gently in his hands, as though it would break at the slightest touch. He approached you softly.
“Okay, hold your hands out.”
You did as you were told, cupping your hands out in front of you. He placed the small object in your hands. It was soft and warm. When you looked closer, you realized it was a baby chick, only, instead of being white or brown, this chick was a vibrant shade of blue. You stared at the little life you held in your hands in awe. Shane scratched the back of his neck.
“So… what do you think?”
“She’s beautiful, where did you find her?”
“She’s one of my special blue hens. I’ve been raising them in secret for the last few months. I - well- I won’t be living here forever and I wanted to pass something onto Jas. I’ve been teaching her how to care for them. I want to contribute to the world somehow, even in a small way like this.”
You nestled the small blue chick in your hands as he spoke.
“Shane?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m proud of you”
“I- thank you Y/N. That means more than you know.”
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h0rnyauth0r · 1 year
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ghost wants to help teach you how to snipe! (but it turns into… something else)
i know i haven't posted in forever but i'm doing so much better so we'll see what happens <3
ALSO 1K??????? THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH AHHH
word count: 2.2k
tws: choking, unprotected sex, reader with vagina, pussy eating, cum eating, fingering, rough sex, cumming inside
you hate how cold it is on the rooftops, slow gusts of winds chilling your bones completely. you would normally complain, but with ghost being right next to you, you truly can’t. his large body blocks the majority of what should be hitting you, and you can’t help but feel giddy getting to spend time with him alone.
he gives off heat, thick layers of clothing doing nothing to stop the way his gloved fingers and muscular arms touch into you as you try adjusting the rifle appropriately. his eyes are looking you over to make sure your positioning is right; it’s not.
“you need to move some.” his voice is barely above a whisper, sending shivers down your spine as you turn your head slightly and only then realize just how close you are to him.
you gulp and nod your head, heat bubbling up in your tummy as you try to adjust yourself and the rifle once more. you can feel his eyes on your every part, silently judging how you just seemingly can’t do this right.
the darkness of the night is all that surrounds you, rifle aiming at some lit up targets prepared on base for you to use. you opt to fire with the newly adjusted position, but it’s no use.
the bullet whizzes into the very edge of the target, just scraping it. ghost sighs frustratedly, deciding to move closer to you so he can help (force) you into the right aiming position. you don’t expect his arms to wrap around you the way they do, causing you to jump a little as you’re moved around with ease.
once he stops, he’s speaking up. “try now.”
you nod, aiming down the sight and pulling the trigger. excitement courses through your veins when you notice the bullet hit the center of the target, a smile forming on your face.
“nice! did you see that?” you say, turning your head to him and immediately becoming hyper-aware of his face only inches away from your own. he nods, eyes staring down at you in a way that makes you feel a lot less cold than before.
it’s the sultry look that he always has that makes you break eye contact quickly, clearing your throat as you turn away from him and decide to take another shot.
following his prior movements of your body, you try once more to shoot and that’s when your confidence skyrockets. once again, a direct hit.
“yes!” you say happily, grinning and glancing over to the man. he nods at your work, opting to put a hand up for a high-five as opposed to using his words for the moment.
your eyebrows raise at such a random gesture, slapping his gloved hand gently and then move the gun over to the side of you. “did you want to practice at all?” you ask, swallowing harshly once you’re looking into his eyes again.
his eye contact remains so sharp in a way that sends spikes of heat in between your thighs, head shaking as he looks between your faltering smile and your bright eyes.
“i think we both know i don’t need it.”
you nod knowingly, almost feeling embarrassed. obviously he wouldn’t want to practice, he’s the best sniper on the base. you feel stupid for even asking, eyes wandering to the edge of the rooftop and looking around at the night sky.
the lights directly above the two of you make the view less visible, but it’s still beautiful nonetheless. you can’t help but wish you were able to stay out with ghost, that maybe this would be a date instead of him doing his job. 
you decide to move around some to prepare to get up. “well, i suppose i should get going. i don’t want to take up anymore of your time.” you mumble.
as you move to get up, his hand stops you with a strength that has you wondering just what other parts of you he could move around so easily. you gasp out, looking to your side at him.
“stay.”
his eyes look pleading, emotions held in them that have you nearly melting into his touch. you immediately falter, getting back into the same prone position you were in before.
you don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. it’s like that for a while, silence between the two of you and the weight of unspoken words creating tension. you choose to take a glance at him, almost forgetting to breathe when you see the way he’s staring at you.
“it’s nice out tonight.” you’re embarrassed saying this, knowing it’s completely random to even mention how the weather is given the current circumstances.
he nods along though, which comforts you in some way. “better than normal.”
you sigh, shutting your eyes tightly. “why did you want me to stay out here?” you don’t want to pry, but it’s needed now. with the tension in the air and the crickets chirping away, your mind is left wandering.
one of his hands gently touch you, eyes pulling open from the pressure of his hand guiding you toward him. your body leans against him, his other hand snaking around your waist. you wait patiently for his words, but nothing is said.
instead, he’s adjusting your bodies so that you’re on top of his body, thighs on either side of his hips as you look down at him. the movement happened so quickly that you can’t think properly for a moment, just staring at him blankly.
your insides feel like they’re on fire from pure lust, face growing hotter from the feeling of a bulge pressing against your clothed pussy. you want to kiss him so badly right now, eyes desperately looking between his eyes and where his lips would be underneath his mask.
“please…” you whisper breathlessly, eyes fixated on that one spot. you unconsciously grind your hips against him, feeling his hands shoot to your hips where they dig in and he pushes up into you.
“fuck it.” he mumbles, hand flying up and pushing the mask up just enough so his lips are showing. you immediately lean down and press into his lips roughly, kissing him with every bit of passion you can muster.
your lips move against each other heatedly, one of his hands grabbing onto your neck to push you in more. you let out a whine when he starts grinding up into you more, the pressure absolutely soaking your panties and probably your pants, too. 
the stimulation is just enough to have you gasping his name into his lips desperately, teeth clashing and wet sounds echoing in empty outside air. the hand on your hip is rubbing circles into it, making your body twitch as you push your hips down harder and harder.
he abruptly ends the kiss between the two of you, hands hurriedly pulling your jacket off before he hesitates to take off any more of your clothing. “will you get too cold?” he asks.
you nod, “it’d be best to leave my shirt on.” you mumble, trying your hardest to catch your breath. but he kisses you again, this time fumbling with your belt and then the button of your pants.
you stand up and quickly pull them off with your underwear in a rush, settling back down on him with your bare pussy resting against him. he reaches down and lightly presses his thumb against your clit, making you whimper out.
you kiss him again while he plays with your clit, eventually sliding down your slit and playing with your hole. his finger stretches you out and your teeth accidentally bite down on his lip as you gasp.
a second one pushes in as your lips leave his again, eyes looking down to where his fingers are thrusting into you and biting your bottom lip. your hips grind down and push him in deeper, eyes rolling back as you come closer and closer to your orgasm.
he slides his fingers back out though, looking you in the eyes as he slips them into his mouth and sucks gently. the sight has you moaning pathetically, a hand reaching down to palm his dick in his pants.
he grunts and pushes your hand away, quickly undoing his pants and pulling them down enough to free his cock. “are you sure you want this?” he asks.
you nod, hand reaching out and jerking his cock several times before lining it up and pushing just the tip in. you slowly sink down onto it, eyes clamping shut from the size and just how good he feels inside of you.
“fuck…” he groans softly when you clench around him, and you almost cum just from how sexy he looks. eyes glazed over, lips still revealed and puffy, and fists clenched roughly at his sides. 
you start to move against him, grinding up and down on his cock as you reach out and grab onto his hands. he uses this to his advantage, pulling your body forward just a little as his hips start thrusting up into you quickly.
your mouth falls open, a mix between a gasp and a whine coming out of your mouth. “more…” you cry out, eyes widening when he pulls out of you. his body is moving yours around, your ass in the air as he adjusts himself to be behind you.
he slowly pushes himself into you from behind, fingernails digging into your ass as he bottoms out. the angle is much better than before, his hips slapping into your ass as he begins thrusting feverishly. 
“so tight and pretty. and all mine.” he growls out, hand reaching around and gripping onto your throat as he fucks into you harder.
you can barely keep your eyes open, but you do when he leans your head back to look at your face while he thrusts. you can feel the pressure building up in you, a steady orgasm bubbling up from the pressure of his dick hitting every little spot that you know gets you going.
he squeezes your throat and you wheeze out, eyes rolling back and clit throbbing hard from the sensation. you can’t help but cry out loudly, even more so when his other hand moves from your ass to your clit to rub circles into it.
your whole body shakes as his movements quicken, his fingers pushing down on your little button as your orgasm hits you hard. you feel your thighs shake and you’re sputtering out incoherent words, a mix between his name and different curse words.
“that’s a good girl. so good for me.” he whispers in your ear, tears streaming down your face from the overstimulation and a content noise coming out from his praise.
he doesn’t stop after you come down from your high, hips never faltering but fingers leaving your clit after you try to squirm away from them. his hand remains tight around your throat, occasionally squeezing.
it’s not long after when you notice his hips sputtering and becoming more and more sloppy in movements, and eventually you can feel his cum fill you deeply. it’s leaking down your thighs, mixed with your own release and sweat as he finally pulls out.
you sigh out, exhausted but entirely satisfied. “that was amazing.”
he pushes your back into the ground, “i’m not finished with you yet.” his words are stern, and you let out a squeak when you feel his breath against your thighs.
he licks up your pussy, lips finding your clit and beginning to suck hard. you cry out, a hand slapping over your mouth to calm yourself as his tongue begins completely violating you.
his tongue runs along your clit in circles before moving back to your stretched entrance, sliding in and out of your hole before moving to your clit once more.
your orgasm approaches quicker since you’ve already cum once, a loud moan escaping your lips as you release against his tongue. he coaxes you through your orgasm, humming softly once he pulls back.
“you taste as good as you look.” he says shamelessly, and you don’t respond. your whole body is shaking beyond belief and you don’t think you can move anymore without falling over.
“i can’t move.” you say quietly, and he’s looking at you smugly as he pulls his mask back over the bottom half of his face. 
he decides to help you put your clothes back on, hands gently taking care of everything and wiping your wet thighs down with a towel. “i can carry you.” he says, shrugging.
you shake your head quickly, “no! we’re not going to do that. it’d be so obvious we just fucked out here.” you disagree, arms crossing as you sit down criss cross on the floor.
he leans down to your ear, “you think they don’t already know, love? you were screaming my name. everyone here knows.” his voice is low and makes you shiver, your face going hot as you realize just how right he is.
needless to say, ghost carries to your room with knowing eyes glaring at the two of you the whole way there. but you really can’t care, knowing that this won’t be the last time it happens anyways.
-
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sweetbbarnes · 1 year
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Can't hurt me
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part II [coming soon]
Pairing: Neighbor!BuckyBarnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're the one that takes care of Bucky after missions, only this time he asks for a different kind of relief.
Warnings: descriptions of blood and injuries; Bucky being needy and begging; a tiiiiny bit of angst because Bucky doesn't really care about his wellbeing; SMUT, +18 ONLY, MINORS DNI; smut while injured; shower makeout; oral (m and f receiving); cum eating; handjob; fingering; a lot of feelings here; pls let me know if I forgot something
A/N: I'm really sorry about the shitty ending, it took me three days to think about it and I couldn't come up with anything so it is what it is, but I promise I'll make up for it in part two.
If you like this fic, please let me know :)
When the Winter Soldier himself, or the man formerly known as him, moved to the apartment across from yours, you were the only person in the whole building who didn’t ignore his presence. Of course, you and Bucky Barnes weren't best friends. During the first month of his moving in you would merely exchange polite greetings when you crossed paths in the hallway, but at least you didn’t immediately flinch and/or look away as soon as you saw him. Sometimes he even attempted some compliments, as he was still trying to rediscover the charming soldier he once was, but that was it.
At least until the day you came home to discover your supersoldier neighbor sitting in front of his door, drenched in blood and barely clinging to life.
As you approached your apartment door, your heart skipped a beat at the sight that unfolded before you. There, in front of his own door, sat Bucky, his figure hunched over, covered in a chilling crimson. Panic surged through your veins as you rushed to his side, dropping to your knees beside him.
"Hello? Hey, Bucky!" You snapped your fingers in front of his face, desperate to rouse him from his dazed state. But all you received was a feeble murmur in response. Panic washed over you. "Oh shit, you're... Oh, gosh. Fuck."
Frantically, you rummaged through your bag, searching for your phone to call an ambulance. Your trembling fingers made the task of finding it more difficult, but after a moment of frantic searching, you finally located the device. Your hands shook as you dialed the emergency number, your voice trembling with urgency.
"I'm calling an ambulance right now," you reassured Bucky, your voice laced with concern. "We'll get you to the hospital, and everything will be alright. Just hold on."
But you were about to hit the call button, you felt a firm grip on your wrist, cold vibranium fingers encircling you. Startled, you looked at Bucky, confusion etched on your face.
"No hospital," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.
"Barnes, sir? Sergeant-" Unsure of what to call him in this moment, you cleared your throat, trying to find the right words. "You're... you're seriously injured. You need medical help. It's okay, they can-"
"I'm not dying," he interrupted, mustering a firmer tone. "No hospital."
You hesitated, torn between your instinct to seek professional medical assistance and Bucky's adamant refusal. With concern etched on your face, you watched as he took the phone from your hand and gently placed it back into your bag.
"So what do we do then?" you asked, a mix of worry and confusion in your voice. "Have you seen yourself? You're covered in blood-"
"The serum will help," he managed to say, his voice strained. "Just... just let me rest."
You vaguely remembered reading about the super soldier serum and how it enhances healing abilities. While unsure of the extent to which it applied in this situation, you decided to trust him, realizing that he probably knows more of his own condition than you do.
"Alright then," you relented, your voice still filled with concern. "But let's at least get you inside. We'll find a way to make you comfortable. Can you try to get up? I'll help you."
With a mix of determination and concern, you carefully offered Bucky your hand, guiding the barely alive man to your couch.
The next day, Bucky woke up feeling a lot better, and you were glad. After you made him coffee, Bucky addressed the blood-stained couch situation and as much as you assured him you could clean it, he didn’t leave your apartment until you agreed to let him take you to a store so he could buy you a new one. “It’s the least I can do, doll,” he said, and you chuckled at the unusual pet name. With the new couch in the living room, you pestered Bucky until he agreed to inaugurate the furniture with you. So on a Wednesday night, he brought some snacks and you two watched The Hobbit, then proceeded to stay up until early-hours talking because Bucky, as the huge nerd he is, had to point out every single difference he recalled from the book - which he proudly announced he’d read in 1937, when it first came out. You didn’t complain, though, it was kinda nice to see this side of the man you only knew through the news and people’s opinions.
Next you knew, you two were inseparable. You quickly learned that Bucky needs a routine, so Wednesday’s nights became movie nights, and Sunday afternoons became dedicated to reading sessions together, then Tuesday mornings were designated as "breakfast with Bucky" time. Soon, there wasn't a single day when Bucky didn't show up in your living room. Your apartment became his second home. You became his second home - though you didn’t know that.
But of course, Bucky’s life wasn’t simple like that, and as much as he cherished your friendship, there are some things that he can’t control. Oftentimes, Bucky would come home in the same state he was on that first day, and although the sight started to become strangely familiar, it never ceased to break your heart. That’s why every time he showed up battered and bruised, you’d take him in and patch him up. You both know you don’t have to, and Bucky tried to convince you countless times that he just needed to rest, that the serum would do all the work, but you didn’t listen. You clean his wounds and stitch him up because that’s the only way you found to tell him that you care, and Bucky willingly lets you do it because he knows it eases the concern you feel about his dangerous lifestyle. So you’re the one Bucky seeks right after week-long missions or brutal battles, if not to help patch him up then just to let you know that he’s okay.
Tonight is one of those nights. When he knocked on your door at 3 am, the disheartening sight of Bucky, once again drenched in blood, almost made you collapse to your knees and plead for him to stay out of fights, to do something else, to stay in your living room and never leave again. But war is all Bucky knows, and as much as you recognize the unfortunate reality of the situation, you don't want to take away one of the few things that gives him a sense of familiarity in this modern world, so you swallowed the overwhelming urge, like you do every time, and helped him get to your bathroom.
The chamomilla scented steam invades your nostrils as you use the soap to gently wash all the blood away. You feel Bucky’s muscles slowly relaxing under the warm cascade of water, and he lets some relieved sounds escape through his lips. If someone had told you months ago that you would eventually find yourself in this very situation, you would have scoffed in disbelief, yet here you are now. You’re not really sure what you did to earn Bucky's trust to such an extent that he feels comfortable being so vulnerable with you, and the thought brings a dangerous warmth to your chest.
These showers are always innocent. You help Bucky clean the blood, leaving the intimate parts for him to clean, and then you take care of his wounds. It’s tender and respectful. But Bucky is not exactly the ugliest man you’ve seen and, well, you’re only human. Sometimes, it gets hard to ignore those not-so-innocent thoughts your brain insists on having. It makes you feel disgusted with yourself - the man is dripping blood on your bathroom floor and there you are, thinking all those nasty things, wanting to touch him in a way you’re not even sure he wants to be touched by you.
Little do you know, Bucky struggles just as much as you do in managing his own thoughts and feelings. Sometimes, he has to stop you from rubbing your hands too much around his torso, because he’s scared he’s not gonna be able to control himself if you keep going. It’s torture, but at the same time he can’t bring himself to stop coming here every time he gets injured. He could stop. He could stay away for a few more days after missions, just enough time for the serum to do its magic and he doesn’t have to go through this, but he can’t. Because everytime he gets injured, he finds himself looking forward to your touch. He barely cares about the pain anymore, because he knows he’ll get to feel your silky skin against his, even if it’s just for brief moments. So usually, he comes back and lets you do your thing while he makes a hell of an effort not to stare at your peaked nipples through your wet shirt - Bucky doesn’t know if he should be upset or glad that you don’t take your clothes off, because seeing you naked would probable make the task impossible, but it’s not like he doesn’t want to - and holds himself back from returning each and every touch you give him, in a very specific, very not-innocent way. 
Usually. But today is different.
Today, Bucky was reminded that his wounds go way beyond the ones on his skin. Today the soldier needs another kind of care, one that’s a little bit more effective for his pain than bandages and stitches. And, honestly, he’s a bit tired of holding himself back. That’s why, without warning, he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you a little bit closer so he can rest his head on the top of your shoulder. You don’t move for some time, which makes him doubt his action, but soon he hears your gentle voice.
“We’re almost finished, and then you can rest.” You say, placing your hands and his back to hug him, but not applying pressure on the bruises.
“I need you.” He says, his mouth on your neck sending vibrations through the area and making a shudder travel down your body. “Need you to take care of me.”
“I am taking care of you, Buck.” You manage to say, fighting the urge to glue your body on his. He’s in pain, you have to remind yourself.
But he tilts his head back, cupping your face with his flesh hand so you don’t take your eyes off of him. “Not like this,” he whispers.
For a moment, you simply stay there, suspended in time, lost in the intensity of the moment. His proximity sends a shiver down your spine as you hear Bucky's heartbeat racing, and you're acutely aware of the weight of his gaze on your face. You can see the pain etched in his features, but there's something else there too, something that makes your heart skip a beat. It's a raw, unfiltered emotion that you can't quite put into words, but it's there, simmering just beneath the surface.
The more you look into his eyes, the more you understand. The person in front of you is a broken man, momentarily defeated by the demons that come to haunt him ever so often, and his eyes are begging you to make those demons go away. He’s asking you to give him the only thing that could possibly make him forget this pain that is so much worse than the bloody cuts, to fill his senses with the only sensation stronger than the fear that's been luring behind his eyes ever since he stepped foot in your apartment tonight.
You gently place a hand on his cheek. His body tenses at your touch, and for a moment, you think he might pull away. But then he relaxes, leaning into your hand as if you’re the only thing that can offer him solace right now.
"I don't want to make it worse," you whisper softly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
"You can't," he whispers back. "Many things... and many people may hurt me, but not you. Never you."
Bucky's words hit you like a ton of bricks, the weight of his complete - almost blind - trust is overwhelming. He had been through so much, faced so many torture and pain, yet here he is, willing to give you all that’s left of his trust.
“Please,” is the only thing he whispers, but it’s enough. Slowly, you raise another hand to his face and bring your lips to his. The kiss is tender, carrying an air of uncertainty, as if exploring uncharted territory. It holds the unmistakable essence of something new and unfamiliar, yet it overflows with raw and intense emotion.
“We still have to finish cleaning you up.” You say, breaking the kiss, and Bucky attaches his mouth to your neck, giving you permission to continue doing your thing.
Bucky gives you small kisses as you continue to cleanse his torso with soap, trying to avoid applying pressure on his still open bruises. You focus on each area with care, gently wiping away any dirt or blood while checking to ensure that he is comfortable throughout the process. As you rub the soap all over his body, Bucky starts caressing your hips, slowly going up and exploring your body like he always wanted to do. He can feel your stomach trembling with his touches and kisses, and it almost makes him go feral.
“Do you like this shirt?” He whispers in your ear.
“Why-” but before you can even think about your question, impatient as always, Bucky tears your old shirt in half, ending the outrageous fabric that was separating him from his greatest desire. You don’t care, though, because Bucky’s clear desperation only turns you on more.
“I’ll buy you another one.” He mumbles, but you’re not sure he’s paying attention to his words.
Continuing your work, you pay special attention to the intricate details of his vibranium arm, taking your time to meticulously clean between the plates from his fingers all the way up to his shoulder - careful not to miss a single spot like you’ve seen him doing multiple times - while Bucky distributes lingered kisses along your jaw down to your neck, until your right nipple is inside his mouth, and you have to hold back a gasp of surprise - but, of course, Bucky’s not having that.
“Wanna hear your noises.” He whispers and lightly passes his teeth through your nipple, getting you to moan out loud this time.
Satisfied, Bucky licks his way back up until your mouth, biting your bottom lip almost too hard and then kissing you passionately soon after. His tongue invades your mouth as he swallows every single one of your breaths. Reluctantly, you break the kiss. You finish the vibranium and go back to the flesh, working on the scarred skin on his shoulder, gently rubbing the soap, then brushing your fingers, and then your lips. The blood is almost entirely gone, leaving behind only the ugly outline of his wounds, which you start kissing lightly, earning a guttural moan out of Bucky’s throat.
Slowly, you slide your soaped hand through his body until you reach his rock hard length, carefully circling your fingers around him. One pump is enough to make Bucky moan loudly.
“Fuck, doll-” but you shush him with a kiss, invading his mouth with your tongue as you pump his dick. Bucky grips your hips like his life depends on it to hold himself back from bending you over and fucking you senseless. No, he wants to enjoy the moment. He wants to learn what you like and let you take care of him how you want.
You continue kissing his cheeks, then his neck until you reach skin around his bruises and then lick the water drops down his torso until you’re on your knees in front of him, staring at his huge length in all its glory while he leans his back against the wall to remain standing.
“Well, I’m glad at least one part of your body was left untouched.” You joke, looking up at him with a playful smile.
Bucky can’t help but chuckle at that, and you notice it’s his first genuine laugh since he arrived home. Good. “Gotta protect what’s yours.”
“Mine?” You ask, just wanting to hear him say that again.
“All yours.” He smirks, completely aware of your intentions.
Before the conversation can go any further, you slide the tip of your tongue through a prominent vein along his cock, and Bucky’s words are lost in his breath. You circle your lips around his pink tip, sucking a little, and the noises he makes are like music to your years.  You proceed to slowly slide your entire tongue through his length one, two, three times, taking your sweet time while Bucky drops his head back and rolls his eyes. He raises his flesh hand to the back of your head and despite the context, his movements on your hair are gentle, like he’s somehow trying to thank you for everything, though he’s too busy moaning to say the words. You see that as an encouragement and take him deep inside your mouth, making up and down movements with your head and sucking as hard as you can while you massage his balls with your fingers. Involuntarily, he starts jerking his hips up into your throat.
“Babe, fuck-” he tries, but gets lost in the feeling when you fasten your movements.
It’s too much. The warmth, the feeling, the softness. Everything is too much, and Bucky is coming inside your mouth before he even realizes it.
“Oh, fuck- Shit, I’m sorry-” Bucky starts apologizing, but he immediately stops, watching in awe as you take a drop of cum that slipped off your mouth with your thumb and sucks it back into your mouth, swallowing everything he gave you.
Bucky helps you get up and kisses you, tasting himself on your tongue. You’re a little surprised when he presses two vibranium fingers in your clit, starting tiny circles. Despite the electric jolt that it sends through your spine, you hold his wrist.
“Bucky, you don’t have to,” you whisper.
“You don’t like it?” He asks against your lips.
“No, I do. It’s just-”
“Then let me make you feel good.”
You moan loudly when he inserts his two fingers inside your aching cunt, the sensation better than anything you could have ever imagined.
“So wet, baby. Is it all for me? Did you like sucking my dick that much?”
You try to say “yes”, but it sounds more like a whimper since Bucky had just found your special spot. Realizing it, he rubs his fingertips over and over again against the spongy area, and your legs start to shake. But as you’re about to warn him that you’re close, he stops.
“Not yet,” he whispers before you can complain, “wanna taste you.”
And that’s how you end up in your bed, lying naked in soaked sheets with Bucky’s face between your thighs, almost screaming as he moves his vibranium fingers in and out while sucking and licking your bundle of nerves. Soon, you feel that familiar heat in your lower belly.
“Bucky, I’m gonna-” you’re interrupted by a moan escaping through your throat.
He only hums in response, sending vibrations through your whole body and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your eyes roll back as the pleasure gets to its peak, and you feel like you’re floating while Bucky happily cleans you up, the sensation of his warm tongue touching every single part of your pussy, inside and out, riding you through your orgasm.
When you come back down from your high, Bucky’s hovering over you, a mixture of lust and gratitude taking his features. He gives you a long chaste kiss.
“Told you, you couldn’t hurt me.”
You smile at his words. “Will you let me stitch you up now?”
“What if we just…” he covers you both with your blanket and hugs you tight, “forget about the stitches?”
“Buck…”
“You know I don’t need ‘em, doll.”
“But-”
He interrupts you with a kiss. Then another. Then one more. “Just today.”
You sigh, defeated, but snuggle up inside his arms.
Bucky gives you a long kiss on the forehead, whispering a very low “thank you” before you both fall asleep.
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lialacleaf · 6 months
Text
Simon Riley x Reader
Bella Notte - Pt. 1
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Synopsis: Simon’s dog REALLY likes you. And maybe Simon does too. It’s hard to make a move on you though when Riley is determined to embarrass him.
Art by @shkretart because their Simon is my favorite~
Warnings: second hand embarrassment, no editing
It was that time of year between the light chill of fall and the frost of winter, when you needed a coat in the morning and gloves to keep your fingers from going stiff, only to shed your layers for a light jacket until the sun started to set in the early evening.
It was raining again, and as you glanced up at the grey sky from under your umbrella you wondered if the whether persisted into the night you might wake up to a frozen driveway.
Your eyes darted over the address on your phone screen for the hundredth time as you approached the gated neighborhood, taking note of the quaint townhouses smooshed together. You approached the gate with some apprehension, taking note of the security guard who looked ready to defend his post with his very life despite being armed with only a taser.
“Afternoon, Miss,” he greeted, tipping his head at you. Police officers in London were polite more often than not, but you still got a little nervous about speaking to them. The second you opened your mouth they either thought you were a tourist, or coming around to cause trouble.
“Hi, I’m here for-“ you paused to check the address once more. “33 B,” you said, showing him your phone screen that displayed the quaint little pet-service app. “I’m a pet sitter.”
He looked at you contemplatively for a moment, and you swallowed thickly. “You from around these parts?” He asked, and you shook your head.
“I moved to York a few months ago,” you explained, preparing to pull out your IDs when he held up a hand.
“You met the fellow that lives there before?” He asked warily, and you frowned.
“Not in person, but he passed the background check so I’m sure it’s alright,” you argued.
He gave you a good look, as if he were trying to memorize you appearance before nodding to himself and swiping his badge. The gate opened with a mechanical whirring and he beckoned you inside.
You shook your head at the exchange, shoving your phone back into the pocket of your raincoat.
33B appeared to be a relatively new unit, the paint on the door appearing fresh as if it had just been done in the past few days.
There was no welcome mat, and the front porch seemed rather bare. You half expected one of those ‘Home of a German Shepherd’ signs to be hanging on the front door, but there was very little to indicate you were in the right place.
Regardless, you knocked on the door, noticing the lack of a bell.
There was no answer.
You knocked again, this time a little harder.
“Hello? Is anyone there? It’s y/n from TailWag!” You called. You were just about to turn around when the door swung open, revealing a tall man with soft eyes and a thick mustache. He seemed surprised to see you before offering you a polite smile.
“Are you…Simon?” You asked, but the man shook his head. “Oh! I’m so sorry, I-“
“No, no. You’re in the right place. Was just on my way out.” He nodded to you with a smile, stepping around you as he let himself out.
Your watched him leave, brown raised curiously before the clearing of a throat had your head swiveling around.
The sight that greeted you had you feeling like a gnome in the presence of a giant. The man was tall, with a head of messy blonde hair and piercing brown as that had you shaking a little in your bright yellow rain boots.
“Oh.”
He regarded you warily with a raised brow. “Y/n?”
You nodded quickly, almost giving yourself whiplash. There was something so commanding about the way he spoke.
“Right. Come in.”
His home was just as sparse on the inside as it was on the outside. “Sorry if this was a bad time.”
“It’s the time we agreed on,” he stated flatly.
“Right, I just- you had company, and I didn’t mean to interrupt…” you trailed off as he continued to stare at you with that piercing gaze. “So Riley? Where is she?” You asked, getting to the reason for your visit.
Simon let out a sharp whistle that made you jump, and the sound of feet running down the stairs alerted you to the incoming of the four legged creature.
You watched the dog bound around the corner and into the living room, tongue killing and amber eyes alight.
A smile broke out on your face as you kneeled down to give the dog some attention. “Hello there,” you cooed, scratching her behind the ears. “Aren’t you a pretty girl.”
“What brings an American out to York Minster?” He asked, regaining your attention. His eyes were cold and calculating.
“Right. My father moved out here after he and my mother split. He left her out of the will so I came to sell his home when he passed but..the gothic cathedrals kinda grew on me, and I got rather inspired so I decided to stay. Wasn’t much left on the mortgage anyhow,” you explained.
He raised both brows at you curiously. “And you pay for that with dog-sitting?”
You shook your head. “Absolutely not, I’m a Ghost Writer. It makes good money. The dog-sitting is so I feel less lonely,” you said, returning your attention to bestowing Riley with your affection and massaging the scruff around her neck.
“Why not just get a dog?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
You glanced up at him, awkwardly meeting his gaze. “I uhh, I had one, passed away shortly after my Dad. I think she missed him. I haven’t been ready to move on,” you admitted, feeling rather put on the spot with the way Simon was watching you as if he were looking for a flaw, or a reason to kick you out of his home.
“Fair enough,” he agreed, and you loosed a breath. You couldn’t help but feel like you were going to end up with a knife in your throat if you made one wrong move. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks at a time. You live around here?” He asked curtly.
You didn’t like the way he looked at you. It felt…judgmental, as if he were trying to decide if you were trustworthy, or if you were plotting some evil deed. “I live in the other side of town.”
He nodded. “Feel free to use the spare room, the place is more hers than it is mine at this point. She deserves a good retirement,” he said gesturing to the dog.
You blinked as realization finally set in. “Oh! Your military! I see now,” you said, glancing down at Riley who was still patiently seated beside her master.
“So you’re not retired?” You asked, and he nodded. “There are plenty of adoption agencies, and families that take on service animals-“
“I’m her family,” he interrupted, sounding very close to having snapped at you, and you winced.
“Right! Of course, I just meant that pet-sitters are expensive and-“
“You’re concerned I can’t afford to pay you?” He asked gruffly.
“No! No I- That’s not what I meant,” you palmed your face as you stood to your full height, which wasn’t much compared to his. “I’ve been doing this since I was in college and I’ve had more than a few cases of abandonment. It’s usually the ones that are gone a lot. I just wanna know what I’m getting into, alright?” You explained, holding your hands out peacefully as if you were trying to convince a wolf animal not to attack you.
You briefly noted that Riley seems much more manageable than her handler. You, however, we’re too soft hearted, and he simply had to understand that if you were going to care for Riley.
He eyed you for a moment, before nodding in understanding. “If I ever don’t make it back arrangements will be made. You won’t need to worry about that,” he assured you.
You let out a relieved sigh. “Good. We’re on the same page then.”
He nodded in agreement, and you had half a mind to ask him to stop staring at you like he was deciding how to go about skinning you alive.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you said, patting Riley on the head much to her delight.
“My flight leaves early in the morning. I’ll text you a code for the front door.”
Your forced a smile as offered him you hand in a friendly gesture. “Perfect.” He didn’t accept your offered hand, but you weren’t too disappointed. You were just grateful you wouldn’t have to see him for the next few weeks.
AN: ahhh this one is gonna be fun! The inspiration for this story came from my own fur babies, one of which I’m using as my visual for Riley. Can’t wait to share part 2!
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squirmhoney · 6 months
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A sweet distraction - Netflix and Chill
Warnings: Dark. Dub Con. slight non con. Smut. Step-brother! Rafe. 18+ MDNI
Step-Brother!Rafe who Sarah believes will easily be fooled by you asking to watch Netflix with him. Desperately needing to get past Rafe one night and asks for you to do this as a favour to her. Just so she can sneak past him and get out of the house for a few hours.
Step-Brother!Rafe who seems confused at first when you ask to hang out with him, saying that you have a horror show you desperately didn’t want to watch by yourself. He lets you crawl under his bedding while he finishes up his game, throwing the controllers to you once he is done so he can snort a quick line.
Step-Brother!Rafe who groans when you put something on, rolling his eyes at each and every idea you come up with. Only to let you pick something as he gets comfortable next to you, turning his lips up at it.
Step-Brother!Rafe who is impatient and only lasts 10 minutes into the movie or tv show before his hand is running along the bare skin of your leg underneath the sheets. He chuckles humourlessly when he shifts closer to you, hand traveling up your thigh as he asks so casually, Aren’t you supposed to be distracting me. His fingers brush over your clothed clit, eyes squinting as he says, you don’t want to disappoint Sarah now, do you?
Step-Brother!Rafe who climbs on top of you in an instant, tearing the sheets away and caging you in before you can protest. Those lips sink into yours to silence any rejections from you, not that you had many when his hand is in your panties, playing with the pool of wetness that has managed to form there.
Step-Brother!Rafe who wraps his lips around one nipple, fingers twisting the other as he whispers what a pretty little sister he has into your skin. Calling you his good girl when your hand manages to find his cock, stroking it gently as he tells you to squeeze it tighter.
Step-Brother!Rafe who teases you as he slides his tip against your soaked folds, flicking it over your clit to hear your precious whines. Only to lose any self control he has seconds later when you plead with him with those wet eyes of yours, unable to stop himself from thrusting himself into the hilt, both of you moaning together at this.
Step-Brother!Rafe who mocks your fucked out expression, with a, who knew you’d be such a slut for your old brothers cock? I mean look at pathetic you look right now. And when you didn’t say anything, trying to babble some sort of response he just continues to laugh, what’s that baby? Want me to go harder.
Step-Brother!Rafe who’s made you cum twice now but isn’t nearly finished with you. Holding your hands above your head when you’re trying to push him off, smothering your lips with his own to stop your pleads for a break. He hasn’t finished yet so why should you?
Step-Brother!Rafe who slaps a hand around your mouth when he hears Sarah come through the door. Telling you to quieten down as his hips move slowly inside of you, it’s torturous the way he rocks his hips, groaning in your ear as he tells you to just take it.
Step-Brother!Rafe who has to hold in his own noises when your walls tighten around him, sucking and biting at the skin around your neck as a distraction. He lets go entirely when you look back up at him with tears streaming down your face, nails digging into his back as you mark your own territory.
Step-Brother!Rafe who yanks you to his chest once he is done, pressing his soft lips to your wet cheeks. He is reassuring you with his words, you’re fine. You did such a good job for me. His dick is still buried inside of you, only pulling it out with a deep sigh as he tries to hide how much it affects him.
Step-Brother!Rafe who thinks you probably want nothing to do with him the next day. Only to be surprised when you sneak into his room in the afternoon and straddle him in his computer chair. Telling him how you managed to convince Sarah to stay out for the rest of the day, leaving you both with the whole house to yourselves.
Step-Brother!Rafe who eats you out like he’s been deprived of it for a lifetime. He sucks on your clit as his fingers slide inside of you, saying you deserve a reward after getting Sarah to leave for the day. I need to treat my sister, he says as he licks at your clit, I need to show you what a good girl you’ve been.
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lovetei · 6 months
Note
Can you write Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them but with side characters please ?
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I knew people would request for the side characters sooner or later, glad I can write them again :b
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Their reaction to Sheep!MC turning into their human form, naked, in front of them
Warnings:
Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters
Links: Masterlist
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DIAVOLO:
You were just giving your normal report to Diavolo after you got in the student council
You showed up in an empty hall where his throne is placed in the middle of the other end of it
And he's there
Sitting while looking oh so high and mighty
And you're there
Insisting to fulfill your duties even though you're feeling weird ever since this morning
"Greetings, Lord Diavolo-" You're not even done saying your greetings but you already dropped on your knees
The pain caused by the unnatural feeling of burning inside your body taking over your senses
"MC!" He called out before he stood up from his throne and come down to help you up
"I'm sorry, Dia... I'm just not feeling well-" And then again, you got cut off
But this time, you're not feeling weak
You're feeling all better
You're glowing like some light bulb though
"What happened..." You asked not noticing the once familiar feeling of being on your human knees
"How..." Diavolo just uttered a word and yet you felt a chill down your spine
Your spine?
"How disgraceful..." His voice seemed to grew more deep and husky and when you looked up
You saw yourself naked in the reflection of his eyes
His eyes that are looking at you like you're some prey
Your mind is hazy and your eyes are blurry from all the tears that are streaming out of it "Hmm?~ Are you alright, Honey?" His sickeningly sweet voice asked as he thrusted his hips even harder.
You let out a gasp before your hands gripped the hands of the throne even tighter, trying to spot yourself from falling forward because of his harsh movement "S-Slow downn!~" You whined.
But instead of him following your desires like how it usually works you felt his hand wrap around your neck "But I'm already as slow as I can get..." He dissapointedly whined before he thrusted one more time, releasing his seed inside of you.
BARBATOS:
You have informed everyone that you're not feeling your best today
And Barbatos insisted that he take care of you
Even going as far as to ask for a leave, which he never did back then.
And now he's here spoon feeding you the soup he cooked himself
"I can eat by myself..." You insisted but he just slapped your hand away when you tried to grab the spoon off of his hand
"You're an important guest MC... You need to have energy." He replied to you before he proceed to feed you.
Wait a minute, he never told you what this 'soup' is.
"What do you mean I need energy..? For what?" You asked, confused, by his choice of words.
But he didn't answer you.
Instead he put the bowl of 'soup' aside and loosened his tie.
"It's finally starting huh?" His voice lacked the formality, the modesty.
What's starting?
The unusual heat rising in your stomach?
Or this transformation?
You've lost everything, he blindfolded you, he stuffed your mouth with his tie and your hands cuffed to his own hands while your feet is tied to the headboard putting you in a sinful position.
Saliva dripped out of your mouth as you orgasmed again "How many was that already?" He asked before his hands gripped your waist, making you completely defenseless.
"MHM!" You screamed through the gag as you felt his dick grow larger "You should- stop squeezing me so much." He demanded before his tail ripped the tie off your mouth.
String of saliva flow down the side of your lips as your body submitted to his "T-Thank ywu..!-" Is what you managed mutter before his tail forced its way down your throat.
SIMEON:
You're simply keeping him company as he wrote another chapter for his new book
Sitting on the sofa next to his desk as you scroll through the internet
"MC..." He suddenly called out catching your attention
"What's up?" You tried, putting your phone down.
"Have you ever thought about... You know... Getting your human form back." He suddenly commented
His stands still tapping the key board
"Well... Having this sheep body sure is hard but it's bearable." You answered
"If it's what keeps me alive in this place then do I really have the luxury to choose what my body will be?"
He was shocked by your answer
Shocked enough that he stood up from his seat and grabbed your jaw "Your body is the temple of God... Yous should know how to love it." He suddenly lectured
"How about I show you how?" And with that your whole body glowed bright
You grabbed the edge of the sink as he harshly pounded you from behind "F-FUck, wait..!" You moaned, asking him to slow down for just a bit.
But instead he covered your mouth with his hand and fucked you even harder, his cock achingly hard because of the sight of your saliva seeping through the gaps between his fingers.
“I love you-! S-So much!” Is all he can come up with as his hand moved to your hips and gripped them before his thrusts turned harder, much more erratic. If only his white wings weren't out you would've suspected him as a succubus in disguise.
SOLOMON:
Solomon has been giddy all day.
Always smiling at you whenever or wherever he saw you.
And based on experience, this man is up to something.
And your suspicion is confirmed when he dragged you into an empty hallway and asked you to meet him tonight in the purgatory hall.
But when you arrived in it
You thought no one was home since every light is off
And the lights in Solomon’s lab are the only light brightening the hall through the gaps of the door.
You knocked and he immediately opened the door as if expecting it.
He should be anyways
He let you in and introduced you to a potion, a dark pink one.
“And what does this do?” You ask as you swirl it.
He smirked, his hands behind “It would give you your human body back.”
Your now spread wide on his desk his cock fucking into you, his balls hitting your ass as your soft please and request to slow down fall on deaf ears “Hmm?~ Slow down? But I gave you such a good potion, bringin back this slutty body back to me.” His eyes darkened as you felt him throb inside of you causing you to moan again knowing his cum will be in you again.
“Don’t I deserve a reward for being so useful to y-you?!” He asked, his hips thrusting one last time before he shoot another load of cum in you causing you to orgasm for the third time this night, your eyes rolling back “Fucking hell, ever since I had you in the human world…” Not even long after and he’s already pounding you.
“You’ve been teasing me everyday.” His voice is deep, something you wouldn’t hear from Solomon on a normal day “I-I, NOT!” You tried to object as tears fall from your eyes while you shake your head “Oh, really?~” He teased definitely not falling for it “Lying is bad, little sheep.” With one swift movement he flipped you up, now your back facing his chest “I heard spanking works the best for liars.”
MEPHISTOPHELES:
Mephistopheles have not seen your human form
And he does “not want to.”
That’s what he tells himself everyday.
But his curiosity is way too great to ignore.
Especially how the brothers are constantly searching for answers and ways to bring your human form back
Just what's about you that can make them so desperate?
But luckily
As he is the son of the greatest clan in the Devildom
Their family has a hidden heirloom that can just be of help in this situation
But he won’t tell the brothers about this
And at least, he won’t tell Diavolo yet.
And now he invited you in his mansion
You’re sitting on his bed as he conduct the ritual
And you must expect… This is not how you expect the ritual to end
“Slutty fucking human.” His words are laced with venom as his cock pushed your limits, threatening to tear you apart and yet you’re here, ass up in the air as he tried to push his cock all the way in “I T-T-OLD YOU!” You screamed as tears continuously roll down the side of your face “IT REALLY WON’T FIT IN ME!~” You moaned, still feeling him pushing it deeper.
“Are humans really this sensitive or you’re just an exemption?” He smirked as he pushed another inch in almost knocking the consciousness out of you “Stop fucking squeezing my cock so hard..!” He commanded as a harsh spank landed on your ass making you sob even more “S-Shit… So sorry!” He smirked as he noticed how he’s starting to take a toll on you.
“I’m barely balls deep in you and yet you’re already this reactive?” He mocked you as a distraction before he slammed himself all the way in and holy shit, he tried to not cum on the spot because he knows he’ll really break you if he does but fuck, the way you moan his name is not helping at all “Does it feel good, baby?” His voice is deep and husky as he leaned closer to your ear before biting it.
RAPHAEL:
Oh poor MC
This place does not even let you live comfortably with your own human body
He started assisting you more after he found out that the sheep form is not your original form
And that you actually have a real human body
And then one day
You’re in the back of the library trying to get this book
Diavolo insisted that its safe
For him
But definitely not for you
Considering how the book is starting to attack you
He, of course, defended you with his spear
Not until the book exploded
And you started glowing
“Oh wow… You have your human body back.” His expression does not express it well but he’s glad for you.
He’s glad really.
What do you mean your body feels cold?
Ah… It’s alright.
He knows the best way to make it warm.
Your legs are around his waist, trying to pull him, push him deeper “Patience MC… You’ll start bleeding if I push it all the way in.” He reasoned, making you whine even more. He’s still expressionless but you’ve caught a glimpse of a smirk “Y-You’re just teasing me…” You argued as his hips pushed his cock further in you.
“D-Do you want me to stop?” He looked so shy… You thought you made him feel bad but you can’t help it, you buried your head on his neck and nodded and just when you’re about to reassure him a chuckle left his mouth before his hips harshly slammed in you, not even giving you time to adjust to his length.
A gasp left your mouth as you covered it up, remembering you’re still in the library “W-What’s wrong?!” His words sounded like a taunt as his hips assaulted yours like you two are some animals in heat “You want it like this right..?” His voice darkened even more.
THIRTEEN:
You and Thirteen have developed this habit of hanging out in her cave
It was actually clean
It’s nice, quiet and the temperature is nice.
Though, as the two of you hang out
“MC is your skin really that… Glowy?” She asked
You looked down at yourself and you saw that
Shit
You really is glowing
You looked back at her in horror and you saw how her eyes darkened
“This can’t be happening… I’m death!” She voiced out as she turned to look at your candle
It was bruning flamboyantly, nothing was wrong…
SO WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!
She looked at the other candles threatening to blow them all off
If you don’t get to live
They can’t also-
“Thirteen…” You muttered, catching her attention.
She turned around with tears brimming on the bottom of her eyes
It immediately disappeared as soon as your naked form laid before her eyes though.
You whimpered softly as her tongue slithered inside your entrance “T-Thirteen… Give me a break..!” You mumbled as your fingers gripped the covers for its dear life and yet she just lifted her head up a little, a mixture of her saliva and your cum dripping from her mouth before she chuckled “You need to make it up to me… You made me worry and all ya know.”
Her lips started abusing your hole once again as her hands forced your legs open “So be a good little human and compensate me okay?” She managed to say between moans and slurps as she devoured you for the whole night.
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2K notes · View notes
deadghosy · 2 months
Note
Hazbin Hotel x Jeff the killer or BEN drowned reader.
Please?
SURE! I’ll do Jeff the killer as someone had requested I do BEN drowned! 🦆💗💗
HAZBIN HOTEL X JEFF THE KILLER! READER
prompt: after fighting with BEN drowned, Ben decided to send you into a show….
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You were asleep snoring as Ben snickered holding up a tv that was playing a title card saying “HAZBIN HOTEL” and with that. He smacked you having you go inside the tv with a devilish smirk. You hit the ground as your body did a whole fucking Peter griffen pose 😭
*metal sound* DAYUM!
You were screaming curses under your breath at Ben who just smirks at the tv and leaves whistling like a damn cartoon character. You dusted yourself off looking around this place.
“The fuck is this?….” You said with a scowl looking around…there’s a bunch of ruined buildings and fire everywhere. You walked around confused as some demons whistle at you. Literally catcalling you as one tried to grab you, when they tried to grab you. You stabbed their fucking hand smiling with that extended smile to your cheek.
“Fuck you think you trying to do huh?” You said with a crazed smile as they fall holding their hand to see you aren’t really a “girl” “YOU’RE A GUY??!” You rolled your eyes wanting to be sarcastic “No. Ima killer..Now. Go. To. Sleep.” You said lastly stabbing the demon in its head. You kept walking as the bystanders move out of your way.
AND YEES WE ARE GOING WITH FANON LOOK INSTEAD OF THE CANNON LOOK😨 CANNON JEFF IS SO…..
Let’s just skip ahead, so you went to the hotel as you seen an advertisement about redeeming….tbh you didn’t give a fuck about redemption, you only needed a room.
Vaggie was definitely judging you by your looks as you had shaggy [idk if I wanna give you black hair or just your own color hair but you can imagine yourself as Jeff or nahh] hair and blood stained clothes. But soon later you turned out to be a chill person who helps their peers but also jokes around.
Alastor and you just stare at each other “smiling” at each other just waiting for the other to talk.
“…..so like..are you always this ugly or were you born that way…” “my smiley fellow, I was born for radio…” “no you were born to be ugly-”
Alastor immediately hates you after that but your boldness is entertaining. He might just take you as a guest for his broadcast.
Angel would love to play with your hair and braid it…as you relax at the touch of Angel’s hands in your hair. It reminded you of how Sally braided your hair when she was bored.
Angel had put pink bows in your hair saying “this is so coquette💗” and you just stood there looking at the hand mirror he gave you. “Angel wtf. >:/”
You woke up to get your laundry to see your white jacket IN FUCKIN PINK?!
“ANGELLLL! IMA CHOP OFF YOUR DI-” yeah angel hid in the bathroom as your anger was no match for any demon….
Lucifer will feel concern about your face as you don’t look…normal I suppose. He’ll be probably have a clear weirded out face
I feel like you and Lucifer would have a weird friend dynamic as you just roll with his hyperactive activities.
“How in the hell do you eat?” He says poking your open slit by your mouth. “I just eat. Simple as that.” You said at the king of hell.
Yeah I imagine Lucifer had put duck stickers on your jacket one time.
I imagine husk and JTK! Reader doing a drinking competition….you owed husk 20 hellbucks. 🥲
Husk will actually tolerate JTK! Reader as they don’t whine and don’t complain much until something actually bothers him.
Sir Pentious would be scared of you…I mean if a normal person saw you. They would be horrified.
You give off a depressed Starbucks worker vibes who don’t get paid for shit…..literally a sinner would test you as Charlie or someone will have to hold you back as you swing your knife. “LET ME AT THEM YOU LIL SHI-”
The crew had always noticed you seemed to look more like a human other than a sinner or hell born. But they never really asked. I mean shit Alastor wanted to ask but Charlie had to tell him to stop it.
The egg boiz were scared of you until you saved Frank from cracking as he tried to reach the damn cookie jar.
You used your body to soften his fall as you hit your head on the ground. “GAH DAMN-” *crash* and then minutes later it was found out sir Pentious was watching over your knocked out body as Frank was telling how cool you saved him.
You sometimes try to call Ben to pick you up and this is how it goes: “Ben…YOU SHORT STACK MOTHERFUCKA! YOU BETTA GET ME OUT OF HERE OR I WILL CUT YOUR LINK LOOKIN ASS-” he had you on voice mail as Ben was just chilling playing video games.
I headcannon you having to wear a fucking smiley mask to not scare off residents😭
“Hi welcome to the hazbin hotel….” You said in a dead tone flat. The sinner looked at you confused asking questions. “ Why are you wearing a mask? Is your nose too big? Do you have bad breath? Are you sick? Are you ugly under the mask?”
You had enough as your eye twitched grabbing the sinner by their collar. “How about I shove my foot up your-” “OKAYYY!” Charlie says seeing you about to give the sinner a piece of your mind as she grabs the sinner from your grasp. “How about we show you around the hotel…”
Yeah you don’t do the greeter job no more….
At least you get to give out food as husk serves drinks. That was at least a cool job as husk helped you serve out small little portions of the trays you used.
I headcannon niffty to make you a bug “flower” crown to show how she admires you.
I imagine Charlie would get you a metal shirt and you would be like. “oh thanks.” You smiled and took it.
You had a knife stash just incase you had to defend yourself. You love collecting knives when bored….
Keyword was HAD. Charlie found your knives and hid them from yourself as you had a sad puppy face at seeing your stash gone.
Imagine you just standin there and a Charlie had put stickers on your jacket saying, “good job for not killing!”
You’re such a good kid😄
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funnyexel · 13 days
Text
what if your stalker loses the remaining piece of human decency he has left
okay.
he was scaring you, acting extremely scary and out of character in your eyes. even if that's who he's always been under the mask...
"no. stay longer." he demanded said.
"it's getting late, and I've been with you for a few days." you replied back, still trying to be polite and understanding in some way. you kept a comfortable smile on your face as you continued, "remember what I said about having time to miss me?"
he didn't want to hear that shit. you said this so often that it actually made him not want to hear your voice. even with the rampant thoughts of wanting to grab the nearest fabric and shove it in your mouth to shut you up, he brushed his hair back to express mild frustration with your words.
and with all this conversation, you still didn't make a definite move. you didn't get up, you didn't sternly say you were leaving and you definitely didn't get up to automatically pack up your things.
"stay." the shorter his phrases got, the shorter his temper got as well and your patience was getting worn too. you try to be a patient person but when he acts so entitled and childish, you can't help the awkward yet strained laugh that comes from your chest.
"I can't do it. I need to go back to my house." you were stern and here comes the attempt the remove yourself from the premises.
you got up from your laying position on the bed and closed up your already packed bag, you planned this, you planned to leave today and you were executing it.
you could feel the adamant stare on your back coming from him. you rolled your eyes and shook your head. you have a minuscule understanding of what's going on in his head, quite minuscule compared to what is actually going on.
"I won't say it again." you look over to him and tilt your head, you were perplexed by his word choice.
"oh, don't be so dramatic." you utter as you put on sweatpants and you thought he was simply trying to intimidate you with his harsh tone and odd wording. but you were naïve to the obvious signs.
he considered letting you go but the way you looked in those sweats, his sweats. he couldn't. not this time.
he grabbed you by the neck, his thumb on one side of your jaw while his four fingers are on the other side. with his chest pressed up against your back, he pushed the bedroom door closed. he was breathing heavily.
like breathing uncomfortably down your ear.
you mistakenly utter his name and his thumb that was fitted on your jaw, pressed your lips together firmly.
he was clicking his tongue as you felt his head shake next to yours. as your chest was raising and falling noticeably, his icy hand slithered up your shirt and you felt a chilling sensation from your sternum to the top of your esophagus.
you felt your resolve shattering under him as he ripped the bag from your hands and spun you around. he couldn't even began to forge together any words as he brought your face close to his. your scent intoxicating him once more and he feels that certain emotion snap inside of him.
something that held him back from taking in all of you.
pushing you down onto the bed, it didn't feel like how it usually did, soft and welcoming, it felt hard and stringent. he grabs your wrist harshly and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. but his actions were still full of intent as you felt your wrist binded to the bed.
you don't know how to feel. one moment you are protesting loudly and kicking at him and the next you are moaning when he so much as squeezes and twists your nipple through your shirt.
he refused to prep you and give you that sense of pleasure, like this was supposed to be pleasureful, it wasn't. as he had you on your back—right wrist tightly tied onto the bedframe—he made you put your feet on his chest. sadistically, wanting to feel you push away from him as he pushed into you raw. it hurt. like hell.
your free hand pushed your hair harshly out your face as you threw your head back on the bed and in this specific moment he felt your resistance the most. but at the same time he felt the way you were desperately pulling him in and in. like you were just begging him to touch your cervix.
he was pushing in slowly, slow and shallow thrusts into you and rubbing your clit ever-so-often even if you obviously didn't deserve it. he wants to hear those sweet moans, even if those whiny pleads are ruining the experience.
he can't focus on your walls suffocating his dick when all you're doing is crying your heart out. with a clear irritation he pushes down on your stomach as he leans over to get a piece of tightly woven rope. you didn't get a moment to slap him away as he was already looming over you, forcefully putting the rope over your mouth and around your head. tying it tight enough so it won't come off and it will effectively muffle those loud and annoying cries.
"I don't want to hear you speak."
you were expecting a quaint 'understand?' from him but the question would've been a waste of breath because of the way your body forced itself to relax under him.
at this moment he straightened your bent legs and put them on his shoulders, folding your body in half as he stayed at an acute angle. the tears and snot running down your face shouldn't have egged him on into ramming into you harder, faster, and dry especially.
but by the time he was leg up and full on pounding into you, you were wet enough for it. you were turned on by this, by him and his authority.
at least.
that's what he was getting from this.
you bite down on the rope as you whine through yet another orgasm and you sniffle up the snot as your free hand claws into the bed. its like you were scared to touch him. and that did hurt him a bit when he realized but the warmth. the look of vulnerability in your eyes as he does nothing but bully your gummy walls, is as addicting as drugs to him.
panting like a dog above you, he completely stops for a moment. clearly getting lightheaded as he puts one hand next to your head for stability. your eyes shoot open at the suddenness of his movements and as your eyes lock, he gives you such a conceited smirk.
pleased with his actions.
even when he's clearly overexerting himself from how pussy drunk he is.
he takes a huge breath, sitting upright and running his fingers through his hair. yanking your lifeless legs to his chest, he shifts his technique to quick and shallow thrusts. your body jolting violently against your will. but this is what he wants.
against your will.
this is his will.
this is what he wants from you.
he wants you to cum, over and over and over again until you get it into your thick head.
you have no will.
and because you have no will to control your bodily functions, your bound hand clenched in a tight fist as you cum again.
you had a wicked imprint across your face and your wrist was blood red. you couldn't didn't leave. not until he said so. and he didn't say so.
not yet.
leaning down to your ear, his hand squeezes your arm tightly as you sat in his suffocating embrace. stiff in his arms as you didn't want to engage in any touch with him. it angered him.
"do I need to use the rope again."
the dead tone he used in combination to his slow pace of words sent a sharp shiver down your spine.
with a soft exhale of a shaky breath, you hesitantly shake your head and his draped arm tugs you impossibly closer to his side.
"good." he gave you a small belittling pat on your forearm as he kissed your forehead and he's quite proud to call himself
your boyfriend.
a/n: someone pls take this trope away from me. anyway thats all for now, literally can't stop thinking about the possibilities for this. thanks to the anons that were asking for more! honestly made me more incline to post.
more writing
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gigabyte-flare · 11 months
Text
Insatiable (Part 2)
Part 1
Summary: Your collages should have listened to you.
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: Huge shout out to @chanif-art who's artwork continues to inspire me and this story. I am completely blown away with how well part 1 was received. Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented and even simply read it. I didn't do a tag list for this one because I think well over 50 people asked and I completely lost track. Anyway, I hope this meets your expectations! I was listening to Little Girl Gone while writing this... for some reason it just fits plagas!Leon.
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“Honey, I’ve changed so much since I last saw ya.”
You open your eyes, finding yourself inside Leon’s cell. You dart your head around, looking frantically when you realize you’re chained to the chair, the same chair Leon had previously been chained to. You hear Leon chuckle, a low chilling sound as he walks up from behind you, taking long, slow strides. He turns to face you, you notice the black veins sprawling his body have gotten darker, his eyes more red. He grins as he kneels down to be at eye level with you, his four canine teeth noticeably sharp. He runs his tongue along his teeth.
“There you are, sweetheart. I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Leon says with a purr. 
Your eyes are wide, taking labored deep breaths before you attempt to struggle. Leon laughs, shaking his head.
“That won’t do you any good I’m afraid, but don’t worry, I’ll get you out of those chains so we can have some play time.”
Leon stands back up, walking back behind you. You hear him break the chains apart with his bare hands. You waste no time bolting out of the chair and to the door. No matter how much you pull, the door won’t budge. You turn around to find Leon standing directly behind you. He grabs you by the waist pulling you to him. You flail your arms at him, trying to fight him off. Out of the corner of your eye you see Bryan on the other side of the clear panel holding a clipboard, taking notes.
“Bryan?! Get me out of here! I’m trapped in here with him, please! He’s going to hurt me!”
Bryan lifts his head, shaking it, “the data you’ll provide from this is too valuable to pass up I’m afraid. We need to know if he’s capable of procreating with a un-infected human and what the offspring will look like.”
“WHAT?!” you scream, “Bryan have you lost your mind?!”
Completely ignoring your pleas, Bryan continues, “remember what we agreed on, Leon. You are not to infect her with the plaga until she gives birth. After that, you can do with her as you please.”
“I remember the agreement, you fucking prick,” Leon growls next to your ear before he licks your earlobe. 
“NO I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS BRYAN, YOU LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” you continue to scream as you try to fight Leon off.
Leon, however, is much more powerful than you; he bites into your shoulder and makes short work of pinning you to the floor, his hands gripping your jeans and ripping them off you, leaving you with your pair of lace panties. You attempt to crawl across the floor towards Bryan, but Leon drags you back by your hips. Leon flips you over to face him, caging you with his body. He simply stares down at you, his smile wide. You watch as drool drips from his face onto your shirt, which he promptly rips apart to reveal your matching bra to him.
“Aren’t you just delicious to look at?” Leon says, licking his lips before locking his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss. 
To your horror, you’re returning his kiss, his hands grasping to both of your breasts. He pulls away after a couple minutes, sitting on his haunches as he pushes your legs apart, noting the dark spot that is now on your panties.
“Oh? You don’t want this? Then tell me why you’re so fucking wet, sweetheart?”
Leaning forward, he grabs your panties with his teeth, dragging them off you before tossing them aside. He then begins undoing the belt on his pants; before long he is pulling his hardening cock from his pants. He wastes no time climbing back on top of you, pushing himself inside you balls deep with ease. 
When the head of his cock kisses your cervix, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out a soft moan. Leon growls, thrusting into you with an insatiable ferocity, causing you to grip his arms, scratching into them with your nails. You felt like he was fucking you for an eternity when he let’s out another growl, pressing into you as deep as he could possibly go. You feel your cunt clamp around his cock, milking his cum into your body.
Leon stares back down at you, his eyes and grin wide as he laughs maniacally.
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You wake up screaming, covered in sweat and tears streaming down your face. You take deep breaths, laying your hand on your chest to ground yourself.
It was just a nightmare.
Once you get yourself calm, you climb out of bed and go into the kitchen of your apartment, making yourself coffee and some toast for breakfast. Afterwards, you get ready for work and head out the door. On your way, you decide to stop at the pharmacy. Walking the aisles, you find the feminine hygiene products, grabbing an ovulation test off the shelf and paying for it. Once you get to HQ, you trap yourself into one of the bathroom stalls, taking the test and waiting for the results. You watch in horror as a little smiley face shows up on the little screen, confirming your hypothesis.
You collect yourself before briskly walking into Bryan’s office. You don’t knock, you simply push the door open aggressively, startling both Bryan and the researcher he’s meeting with, you think his name is Pierce.
“I am not going back down there, Bryan,” you say sternly. 
Pierce shifts uncomfortably in his seat before standing up to leave, “I’ll go check on the camera feed downstairs.”
You and Bryan stare at each other as the door swings shut. Bryan rubs his eyes.
“Not this again, I’m sorry but I need you to go down there, you’re still the only one Leon talks to. Is this about what happened yesterday? I assure you, we have taken extra precautions to ensure that doesn’t happen again.”
You stomp up to Bryan’s desk, slamming the positive ovulation test onto the desk. Bryan looks down at the test before looking at you and raising an eyebrow.
“The fuck is this?” he asks.
“I’m ovulating, this is why Leon keeps saying I smell good and wants to practically throw himself on me whenever I’m down there.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Can you think of a logical explanation, then? I’m all ears.”
“This is not up for debate, you are going to continue working with Leon; that’s an order!”
Suddenly, the lights go dim before red emergency lights come on followed by a loud, screeching alarm.
“What the hell?!” Bryan exclaims, looking around confused.
You’ve never heard this alarm during your entire time at D.S.O., you rack your brain around what it could mean when suddenly, Pierce bursts into the office.
“Pierce! What the hell is going on out there?!” Bryan asks.
“Kennedy’s escaped, sir!”
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Leon opens his eyes and lifts his head, looking around his cell. Deep down he was seething in rage; he had gotten so close to getting out of this chair and having his way with you. Now, his chair had reinforced steel plating welded to it and they strapped a god damn muzzle onto his face. He could see he now had two men with guns guarding the door at all times. 
Fucking beautiful.
He tested the chains again, but found they had been tightened recently, angering him even more. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and hoped he would see you today. He hated the thought of you seeing him like this, but he desperately wanted to see you and inhale your sweet, sweet scent.
Out of nowhere, an excruciating pain jolts down Leon’s spine, causing him to cry out and writhe in his chair. His four canine teeth grow sharper, his fingers turning black and now taking on a claw-like appearance and a new, sharp appendage was peaking out of his lower back. The guards turned around to look at Leon. They immediately unlock the door and come into this cell to check on him. Leon stops writhing, slumping over in his chair, pretending to be passed out. One guard stays by the door, facing away from them while the other comes over to check on Leon, checking the chains to make sure they’re in place.
Unbeknownst to the guard closest to Leon, Leon’s new tail was extending from his back, coming around from behind the guard. It was very similar to a scorpion’s tail, but instead of a barb on the end, it looked like a blade. Within an instant, Leon’s tail wraps around the guard’s neck, snapping it instantly as four claw-like appendages burst from Leon’s back, breaking the chains holding his arms in place. Hearing the other guard fall to the floor the other guard turns around only to be faced with Leon, who is now up out of his chair and walking towards him, ripping the muzzle off his face, flashing a maniacal grin at the guard. The guard goes to shoot Leon but Leon is much faster, his tail whipping forward and impaling the man in the chest before flinging him aside. 
Leon strides out of his cell, looking down the hallway to see a pair of researchers coming down the hallway. Upon seeing Leon out of his cell, they start shouting at each other and turn to run in the opposite direction. Leon smiles, breaking into a sprint. He leaps, pinning one researcher to the ground with his body while his tail grabs the other by the waist, lifting him into the air.
“Where is she?!” Leon asks with a growl to the researcher he has pinned to the floor.
“Where’s who?!” the researcher stutters.
“Don’t play dumb with me! Where is she?!”
“Up-Upstairs! In Br-Bryan’s office!”
Leon’s mouth clamps down onto the researcher's neck, ripping out his throat as his tail squeezes the other until his spine snaps, falling to the floor as Leon lets him go. At that moment, all the lights dim before red emergency lights come on. Leon breaks back into a sprint to the elevator however, it was not working no matter how many buttons he pushed. He uses his tale to rip a hole into the ceiling, leaping up into it and climbing the elevator shaft. 
Once he reaches the top, he pries the elevator door open, swinging down, landing gracefully in the hallway. People are scrambling to get away from him, bumping and tripping over each other to run down the hallway. Leon’s red eyes scan the area, however, he sees no sign of you. More guards with guns show up, firing at him. His tale whips forward, deflecting their bullets with ease as he lunges forward. He impales one operative with his tail while his hand thrusts through the chest of another, gripping the man’s still beating heart in his claws before crushing it.
“Take her and get out of here!” he hears a man yell from down the hallway.
Leon’s attention is immediately drawn to the man that yelled, immediately recognizing him as Bryan. At one time, he liked the man, a brilliant scientist. Too bad he has to die. Leon watches as Bryan pulls out a pistol, firing shots at him. Again. Leon’s tail and back claws deflect the shots as he stands face to face with Bryan, his tail whipping around and decapitating the man with ease. He brings his tail’s blade to his lips, licking off the blood as he proceeds to walk down the hallway towards the entrance of HQ. 
A researcher is leading you out the front door, shoving you through the door with his back turned to Leon. He’s about to head out himself before Leon’s tail goes straight through his chest. Leon hears the man’s death gurgles as he flings him behind him, his body falling about 20 feet away with a loud thud. 
And there you are, cowering in the entry vestibule, your eyes locked on him, looking up and down his body. Leon straightens out his posture in hopes of making himself alluring to you, his tail whipping back and forth while his back claws flex. 
“Do you actually think you can escape me?” Leon coos, watching as you press your back as hard as you can into the glass doors as he comes closer.
“You never will, my love.” he continues with a grin, licking his sharp canines.
You stumble out of the door, bolting into the street and running as fast as you can to your car.
“I will find you.”
Part 3
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roosterforme · 3 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 49 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley confides in you, loves you, and takes care of as much as he can. When he needs you to help him more than usual, you never complain. As the two of you get ready for a hectic weekend, Bradley makes sure he has his plans in order. And he reminds you that you're always one of his top priorities, even when things get busy.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, oral, smut, cock warming, and age gap (18+)
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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It was dark outside, and you were sitting on the couch with Skittles while you waited for Bradley to get home. Noah was already sound asleep, worn out from an evening of helping you make ants on logs and going for a hike around the block, but you were alert and antsy. All you got was a text from Bradley an hour ago letting you know he was on his way home.
Skittles aimed her puppy eyes right up at you. "I know. I miss him, too." It was kind of funny the way all three Bradshaws had the same brown eyes that made you want to give them anything they asked for. "Okay, fine. But don't tell anyone about it."
You stood and the pup followed you into the kitchen where you cut up a meatball and dumped it into her food bowl. Then you heard the front door open and nearly wiped out on your way back to the living room where Bradley was closing the front door behind him. He had his uniform belt and a ziploc bag filled with his pins in one hand, but he held the other out for you. 
"What happened?" you asked as you tucked yourself against him and examined his face. His expression was unreadable. "Did she sign the paper?"
He nodded as Skittles ran in and sniffed his boot. "Yeah. She signed it," he replied, leaning to kiss your lips as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 
"Wow," you whispered, standing in the living room right next to the area rug where you were laying the first time he ever told you about Meredith. "I'm... kind of surprised."
"Me, too." He tossed his belt and pins onto the couch and held you close. 
You didn't want to pry too much, but you were so curious, it was killing you inside. "What was it like when you talked to her?"
Bradley rubbed his face against your hair as he undid the top few buttons of his uniform shirt before wrapping his arm around you again. "It went better than I expected. I was only in the room with her for maybe ten minutes. She..."
You rubbed soft circles against his back as he collected his thoughts. You didn't care how long it took him to get the words out, you just wanted him to know you'd always be here to listen. His heartbeat was strong and steady as you let your head rest on his chest, and he gave you a little squeeze.
When he spoke again, his voice was rough and sent a chill along your back. "She thinks she would have been better off if she had an abortion. And I tend to agree with her in some respects. But my god, I'm so happy she didn't. I can't even think about living without Noah. So I'm happy she didn't do it." His voice broke, and your eyes welled up with tears. 
"Me too, Daddy," you whispered as you started to tug him toward the kitchen. He'd already had a very long week, but now you could take care of him so he didn't have to do it by himself.
"Baby, I'm fucking exhausted. I'm not hungry. Can we just go to bed?"
You nodded and changed direction. "Of course." You worked on the rest of his buttons and helped him out of his shirt. When he sat on the edge of the bed, you knelt to untie his boots and yank them off, and Bradley looked at you with such adoration, it made your cheeks feel warm. You peeled off his socks, too, and when you got up, you sat on his lap. 
"I'm really proud of you for going to talk to Meredith," you whispered. "I hope Noah grows up to be just like you."
Bradley scooped you up and lounged back against the pillows with you on top of him. "Funny thing about that, Princess... I hope he grows up to be just like you."
Less than fifteen minutes later, you lulled Bradley to sleep while you played with his hair and softly kissed his face. "I love you, Princess," he muttered as you rubbed your nose against his. Then you crept back out of bed to make sure everything was in order for the three of you for the following morning, and you stopped in Noah's room to kiss him before getting ready for bed yourself.
---------------------------
Wednesday and Thursday were both long days, and once again Bradley had to rely on you to pick up all of his slack when it came to Noah. Cyclone was running him ragged in preparation for the air show. Wednesday, he went to the bank to transfer the money into a new account with just his name and Noah's on it. Thursday, he went back to talk to Tracy as soon as he could leave base. 
When he called and asked her if she could help him put up some extra safeguards for his own peace of mind, she told him she could. When he strolled into her office for the second time in one week, she was talking on the phone and drinking a Red Bull, but she pointed to the conference table and a large folder with his name on the front. He skimmed through a stack of paperwork; she'd really thought of everything. Tracy even had your name listed on several documents along with a few notes for you to read. 
When she ended her call, he said, "Thanks for helping me with this. I want to get it all in order."
"You mean like I told you to do years ago?" she asked with one eyebrow raised.
"Listen. At least I'm doing it now."
"I hope you brought your checkbook this time."
When he eventually got home, you already had dinner on the table, and Noah was eating a piece of broccoli. And sure, he'd just dropped another couple hundred bucks when he wrote out a check, but he'd be damned if anything was going to mess with his family again. He set the folder and checkbook down on the counter and bent to kiss you between bites of your dinner while he tousled Noah's hair. 
"You're home earlier than I thought, Daddy," you remarked when he leaned in for another kiss. "And that's a mighty fine looking checkbook you've got there."
"I've been late too much this week," he whispered, stealing a piece of broccoli from your plate. "It shouldn't be like this."
"Next week will be better," you promised. "After the air show and everything this weekend, next week will be quieter. And then maybe I can plan our trip to Disneyland."
"Shhh!" Bradley scolded playfully, reaching to cover Noah's ears as he started to feed his broccoli to Skittles who was begging next to his chair. "Not so loud." You laughed and pointed to the stove where a plate of dinner was waiting for him. "Thanks, Princess."
Once he settled in, you looked at him with a little smirk. "You know, all of these late nights meant I didn't get to my nail appointment. I wanted to have them done for the hospital tour and the air show."
Bradley grimaced. The tour was tomorrow, and you were already leaving work an hour early to get there on time with him. "I'm sorry. The week really got away from me. I should have reminded you to buy a new outfit or two if you wanted."
"Oh, I did," you told him. "I used my Princess card."
He swallowed hard. He could tell you were subtly asking him for a spanking, and he was more than happy to give it to you, but he had something else in mind for the remainder of the night after Noah was in bed. He glanced at his son who was now picking apart his chicken. "Can you take a raincheck, Baby? I have some other plans for the next few days, but I'd love to get my hands on you next week?"
You raised one eyebrow. "What are your other plans?"
He took a bite of food before he said, "I'll tell you after bedtime. After you show me the clothes you bought."
Eventually he sent you off to change into one of these new outfits while he got Noah ready for bed. "I'll be home more next week, Bub. I promise. We'll have time to read more books. And maybe one night you and I can go to the park and give Mommy a little break?"
His son nodded as he rolled over and closed his eyes. But Bradley didn't really want to give you a break. He wanted you with him and Noah all the time. And after this weekend, he anticipated that feeling would grow even stronger.
When he walked into his bedroom and found you examining yourself in front of  the mirror with a form fitting black dress hugging your body, he groaned. "Are you wearing that for the hospital tour?" he asked, and you looked at him in the mirror. 
"Yes?" you replied. "Unless you think it's too much."
He grunted softly. Of course it was too much. You looked sinful in it. All he had to do is put his hand on your ass, bunch the fabric up an inch, and everyone would be privy to the charms he got to enjoy on a regular basis. His cock grew a little hard just thinking about it, which is why he shook his head and told you, "It's not too much, Baby. Not if you're with me all night."
You smiled and peeled it off, baring yourself to him before reaching for the floral sundress on the bed. "What are you wearing tomorrow night?" you asked.
"My flight suit."
"You can't wear that! It's for work and for looking sexy at home!" you protested as you put the second dress on. 
"Cyclone wants me in my flight suit both days. Please don't make me piss him off."
You laughed and spun in your second dress and he closed the distance to you. "I'll behave. Like a good girl."
Bradley kissed your forehead. "You're wearing this to the air show?"
"Yes," you whispered. "I got Noah a yellow shirt to match me."
Bradley wasn't sure exactly why, but that information sent his brain into a whirlwind. Matching outfits. Mommy and son stuff. "Princess," he moaned. 
"We'll look cute next to you in your sexy flight suit."
"You will look hot as hell both days," he confirmed, helping you pull the sundress off again. "Now, I think I owe you a manicure and a pedicure?" he asked, making you gasp and smile.
-------------------------
You quickly changed into one of Bradley's oversized shirts and met him in the kitchen with all your nail supplies. "Are you really going to do this?" you asked him, and he just nodded and smirked like he had a little secret. "Wait... are you secretly really good at painting nails?"
He shrugged and patted his knee, naked except for his black briefs. "I have no idea. Never tried it before."
It somehow made you feel giggly that he was going to sweetly attempt to do your nails for you even though he didn't know how. You settled down on his lap and set out some bottles of polish. "Which color?" you asked him. 
He had his lips on your neck as he murmured, "Do you really need to ask? Purple, Baby."
You moaned his name as you pushed the other colors aside, and then Bradley's hand was up underneath the shirt, teasing your skin and checking to see if you were wearing underwear. You leaned back against his chest and looked up at him over your shoulder. "You feel like fooling around first?"
His thumb stroked softly along the length of your slit. "Kind of," he said, his voice deep and raspy. "You ever warmed a cock before?"
The pad of his thumb felt a little rough, sending goosebumps all along your skin and making your lips part in need. "No," you whispered, always a little sheepish to admit your lack of experience when it came to things that he liked. "But I've heard of it."
He hummed softly and kissed your ear as he continued to stroke you. "You want me to tell you a little more about it? And maybe then you can tell me if you think it's something you'd enjoy?" When you nodded, he kissed your neck and said, "You would take my cock inside you. We would make each other feel warm and safe, and I could paint your nails while we sit here. No thrusting or anything." He dragged his lips and mustache back up to your ear. "You could warm me with your mouth, pussy or ass." You moaned softly, already clenching as he stroked his thumb up and back down your slit. "But since you didn't give yourself some time with your plug first, we could try it with your pussy. If you want to."
Even the idea of it sounded hot and intimate, and you were surprised and delighted that he wanted to try this with you. All of it. The cock warming and the nail painting and just everything. You turned slightly in his lap and took his face in your hands. His skin was warm and rough beneath your hands where his stubble was growing back from when he shaved earlier this morning. His brown eyes were fixed on yours. "I want to," you whispered as you kissed him. 
He smiled softly as you let your hands trail down his body to the waistband of his briefs. When he lifted his hips, you yanked them down and marveled at the sight of his half hard cock resting on his thigh. "You do that to me," he rasped, visibly growing harder. "Just having you on my lap, and the way you let me touch you. Baby, that's all you."
You whimpered into his mouth as he kissed you, and when you turned so your back was to his chest, you said, "This is what you do to me, Daddy." Then you spread your thighs and draped your legs over his, and you took his hand in yours. You eased his thumb along your slit again, this time letting him feel how wet you were when you were spread open for him. 
He murmured, "I love you," into the crook or your neck while he cock bobbed up and tapped against your inner thigh. "You ready?"
"Yes," you sighed, and Bradley reached in front of you with his right hand and guided his cock through your wet folds and inside you. When you adjusted yourself and leaned forward a bit, the sensation of being so full made you gasp as you took him to the hilt.
"Feel okay?" he asked softly, pulsing gently inside you even though he wasn't thrusting. "If you don't like it, we'll stop."
You turned your head to look at him. "I like it. A lot. I feel so full. Do you like it?"
"Feels incredible," he whispered. "Like you're just holding me and gripping me with your sweet pussy." Heat rose in your face as the raspiness of his voice washed over you. Then he asked, "Want me to try to paint your nails?"
You sat there with Bradley's arms wrapped around you and your palms flat on the kitchen table while his cock was nestled inside you. Neither of you moved very much, and your voices were soft as he worked slowly. After he finished a nail, he treated your neck and cheek to a smattering of kisses, and his breathing was even next to your ear while he worked. 
"I can't even look at the color purple without thinking about you," he murmured, and you clenched around him. "God, Baby," he gasped. "Fuck."
You couldn't help that you loved being loved by him. "You feel really good inside me," you told him as he swiped polish onto your left ring finger. He seemed to be taking extra time with that one, kissing and nipping at your ear between each dip of the brush into the bottle.
"Baby, you hardly wear any jewelry," he mused.
You laughed softly as he finally moved to your pinky. When you adjusted yourself on his lap, he grunted. "I don't really have any jewelry."
"And if I got you some, would you wear it?"
"That's a ridiculous question. Of course I would. But you already get me what I need, and you paid off my school loans. You don't need to buy me anything else."
He finished with your pinky and screwed the lid on the nail polish bottle. "But I want to." When his hands came to rest on your thighs, he remarked, "Your nails turned out better than I expected."
"They look so good, Daddy," you said, holding your hands up. 
"How long does this shit take to dry?"
"Maybe ten minutes?"
He gently took both of your wrists in his hands and set your palms back on the table. "You want me to paint your toenails, too?"
"Please," you whispered as his hands returned to the tops of your thighs. He was humming as he cupped your pussy with his fingers while he dragged his other hand up to your breasts beneath the shirt you were wearing. 
Hands rough against your nipples, he asked, "Will you let me fuck you first? Paint your pussy really pretty too?"
"Oh my god, yes."
As soon as the words left your tongue, Bradley groaned loudly and thrusted upwards while he stroked your clit, and you practically screamed. "You have to be quiet, Princess," he warned, and you pressed your lips together. "God, you got me so fucking worked up, just sitting here with your little pussy wrapped around me."
He fucked up into of you again and again until you were actually holding onto the table to keep yourself upright on his lap. "Daddy," you whimpered as he went a little faster. Each movement had your clit bouncing against his sure fingers, and when he started spanking you softly with them, you nearly screamed again. 
"Oh. Oh, fuck," he grunted, panting next to your ear. His breath was warm, and his words were sinfully deep as he told you, "I'm gonna come." He moaned your name as he held you to his chest, fucking you with your legs spread wide on his lap. "It's so fucking good."
Bradley's hips rolled as he filled you with his cum, his broad chest rising and falling against your back. You were about to turn and kiss him when he hauled you to your feet as his softening cock slipped out of you. You squealed as he eased you down onto the floor on your back and pushed your legs open wide. 
"What are you doing?" you asked as he knelt and eased himself into position with his hands on the backs of your thighs. 
"You didn't come." He licked your pussy, making you gasp. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter if you came tonight or not, because you loved the cock warming, but his face was already buried in your messy pussy. You felt so wet as you propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. His mustache was covered in his own cum and your wetness as he looked up at you and said, "You didn't get enough of my attention this week. You deserve more. I always want you to have more. I'll make you come."
He sounded so sure of himself, and as soon as you nodded he went back to work. "Daddy!" you whined when his tongue swept up around both of your holes before swirling around your clit like he was unwilling to leave any of his cum behind. Just the thought of it had you clenching, and then he started to fuck you with his fingers while he sucked on your clit. The noises were beautifully obscene.
As he started to add a little pressure, you realized something big was building inside you. "Oh god!" you groaned, once again loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. Your hips rocked up to meet his mouth and fingers, and your legs started shaking. 
Bradley grunted as he licked a long stripe and then started to suck. When he released you, your hips bobbed to chase him for more. "So damn sensitive," he crooned, his face a glistening mess as he licked his mouth and looked up at you. "Squirt for me."
You don't know how he knew better than you did what you were about to do, but he licked you from your asshole all the way to your clit while you rocked against him. He pumped two fingers deep inside you, stroking you just right while he plucked at your clit, and you shook your head from side to side on the kitchen floor.
"Daddy." It came out as a gasp as you felt yourself gush. 
You squirted on his face. You could feel it dripping down your butt to the floor. You felt wet everywhere as Bradley continued to pump his fingers gently in and out. "Baby," he whined, licking all around your overworked pussy until you shook. Then he kissed along your inner thigh and said, "I always want to make you come. You're mine. Now don't move an inch. You've done enough."
He leaned over your body, and kissed your lips, letting you taste the mess both of you made all over his face. It was intoxicating, licking his own cum from his mustache where he also tasted like you. But perhaps the best part was the way he slipped his tongue into your mouth before he said, "I love you."
-----------------------
Bradley took his time, making sure they looked as good as he could get them. Every swipe of polish on one of your toenails was accompanied by a press of his lips to your foot or ankle. You were laying on the floor looking like a perfect fucked out mess. He could still see a drop of his cum ready to drip out of your pussy if you moved just right, and you'd squirted all over him and the floor. The whole room smelled like sex and nail polish with your underlying wildflower scent, and he wished he could bottle it up. 
You giggled when he pressed his lips and mustache to your ankle. "Tickles," you whispered, looking up at him in adoration. So he kissed your ankle again before finishing up with his painting project and blowing softly on your nails. Your eyes drifted closed as you told him, "You're such a dream, Bradley. You just painted my nails and made me squirt on the kitchen floor."
This was the life he wanted with you. He'd worship you and love you. Take care of anything you or Noah needed. Dote on his family. And if another baby came along, well, he was ready for that, too. After this weekend, he prayed you'd be sporting your engagement ring, because more than anything else, he was ready for that next step. 
He kissed the side of your big toe before setting your foot down on the messy floor. "Your nails look damn good."
"Thank you, Daddy," you whispered as you pushed yourself up and crawled toward him. He picked you up and carried you directly to the bathroom where he got the shower ready for you and pulled his shirt over your head.
"I'll be right back. As soon as I clean up the floor." He kissed your smiling lips before dashing back into the kitchen. He took a deep breath and groaned. "Incredible," he whispered, wiping up the floor and cleaning up your nail supplies. Then he joined you in the shower.
"Will you sing to me?" you asked a little groggily when he wrapped you up in his arms. He sang his favorite song while he looked at your purple nails and thought about getting that ring on your finger. As soon as you were in bed for the night, he made sure Noah was asleep, and then he took Skittles outside. Before he climbed in bed, he checked the top of the closet for the ring box. Everything was ready to go. When he pulled the covers up, you scooted closer to him in your sleep. 
"I love you, Baby."
Friday morning, he needed to be on base early, so he woke you up just before he left in his flight suit. When he pressed his lips to your forehead, you tried to pull him back into bed. "I can't," he whispered with a laugh. "But I'll be home and ready to leave for the hospital tour at five. And Amelia should be here by then, too."
"Okay," you croaked softly as you cracked one eye open. "I'll take care of Noah."
"I know you will," Bradley rasped, now desperately wishing he could climb back in bed with you and let you know how much he fucking appreciated you. "I'll leave the coffee maker on. I love you."
You waved from bed as he grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way to the front door. There was nobody out yet, and he got to base quickly only to find Nat and Javy practically groping each other by their cars. When she saw his Bronco pulling in, Nat jumped away from Javy like he was actually made out of fire and started to head for the building. 
"Could have told you to stay away from that one, man," Bradley said as he closed his door behind him.
"I asked her out," Javy replied sadly. "Four times."
Bradley clapped him on the shoulder. "Either throw in the towel now, or get ready for the longest marathon of your life." 
He started walking away when Javy called out, "So you think if I stick with it, she'll admit she's in love with me?"
Bradley shrugged. "The only thing I know for sure is that she's a pain in the ass."
Bradley dropped his stuff off in the locker room and headed out onto the tarmac where Cyclone and Mav were waiting for him. He saluted both of his superiors and then collected the paperwork Admiral Simpson handed to him. "This is your itinerary for tomorrow morning. Be here by 0500 to fly your aircraft up to Miramar to meet with everyone else you'll be flying with. Some are from Lemoore. Some are from out of state. Make Top Gun look good."
Then he left Bradley alone with Mav to go over the schedule and practice the maneuvers. "Listen," Bradley said as they walked toward his jet. "The earlier I can get out of here today, the better."
"Amelia's babysitting tonight, right?" Maverick asked. "You're doing the charity hospital tour?"
"Yeah, and I'll need to get some actual sleep tonight if I'm waking up at four in the morning tomorrow," Bradley replied. "It's not just about the air show at this point." When Mav gave him a confused look, Bradley sighed and added, "I'm hoping to go from boyfriend to fiancé this weekend." Maverick broke out into a toothy grin. "And don't you dare tell Penny!"
He held his hands up innocently before pulling Bradley in for a tight hug. "It'll be our little secret. But your mom and dad would have loved to see how good you are with Noah, and that you chose a partner with him in mind. And I'm proud of you, too."
--------------------------
"But I'm hungry," Noah whined as soon as you got him home. Casey pissed you off by taking so long to retrieve Noah, and now you were running late. The plan was for Amelia to order a pizza since you and Bradley would be enjoying food at the cocktail reception, but you still needed to get ready to go. Thankfully you usually always had a snack prepared.
"How about some ants on logs?" you asked him as you kicked off your shoes and opened the back door for Skittles. Before Noah could answer, you opened the refrigerator and pulled out the container of carrots and peanut butter. He settled in a chair at the table and started crunching through a carrot stick. You started to feel flushed and warm when you thought about last night's activities that took place exactly where you were standing now. 
Skittles broke you free from your thoughts as she pawed at the door to come inside. You scooped some dinner into her bowl and then ran to the bedroom as you said, "I'll be right back, Noah." 
Black dress, black heels, black thong. You smiled for the millionth time when you looked at your purple nails. You just needed to get your beaded clutch down from the top of the closet. As you stood on tiptoes, you brushed your hand along the shelf. Your fingers connected with Bradley's gym bag, and you pushed it out of the way. Then you felt the corners of a small, square box instead of your bag, and you wrapped your fingers around it just when you heard knocking at the front door.
You gave up on your quest and ran to let Amelia inside. "Hey," she said casually as you opened the door.
"Can you order a pizza and feed Noah?" you asked her as you handed her your purple credit card. "I really need to get ready."
"Sure," she replied heading for the kitchen where she greeted Noah with a pat on his head. You could hear her asking what kind of pizza he wanted while she got his coloring books out. 
When you made it back to the closet, this time you got your hand on your beaded bag right away. "Perfect," you muttered. You took the world's fastest shower and got your hair and makeup perfected. When you heard Bradley walk inside, you were slipping your thong up your legs and then shimmying into your dress. When you looked in the mirror, you turned to inspect yourself. Everything looked pretty damn good. 
"Hey, Princess," Bradley said when he let himself in the bedroom. "Wow."
The look he was giving you was so funny when he himself was standing there in a clean flight suit looking like a million bucks. "You look hot, Daddy," you said as you picked up your high heels and rushed toward him. "We need to go, or we'll be late."
He kissed you and wrapped his hands around your hips. "We could just stay home? I think we should stay home."
You pouted up at him playfully. "But I wanted to tour the hospital. Jake promised me he'd take me if he was flying in the air show. Remember?"
Bradley stroked your jaw with his thumb, a playful smile on his lips. "Don't be a brat."
You moaned as he took your shoes from your hand and knelt in front of you. "I'll behave," you promised, your breath catching a bit at the sight of him on one knee as he helped you step into your shoes. You let your fingers play with his wavy hair as he kissed your thighs just below the bottom of your dress, and when he stood, he scooped you up in his arms. 
"As excited as you are about tonight, that's how excited I am for tomorrow," he whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 
"I'm excited for everything," you promised as he carried you out to say goodnight to Noah.
---------------------------
Daddy has some big plans for the weekend. And if she touches that box one more time, he might have a heart attack. But what I wouldn't give to have him paint my nails. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 50
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pinkroseblooms · 2 months
Text
Boy Toy
Sugar baby!Toji Fushiguro x Sugar mama!f!Reader
Summary: You try to break things off with Toji; needless to say, he does not take it well. wc: 5.1 Warnings and tags: this story contains smut, dirty talk, cursing, rough sex, begging, emotional manipulation, toxic behavior/relationships, some soft!dom/bratty!sub elements, a clingyyandere!toji, possessive behavior, obsessive love, some angst, some fluff, all twisted af.
a/n: I see a lot of Sugar daddy!Toji content and wanted to switch things up a bit with some emotional feels. I also ended up listening to Rick Montgomery's "Boy Toy" on repeat and got ideas. Personally I headcanon that if Toji ever did somehow develop genuine love for another person it wouldn't necessarily help him chill out this time around, he'd just become more unhinged.
His things are in a pile, close to the solid red oak door; they’ve been packed away in brand new luggage carriers and on top is the duffle bag Toji had initially used to carry his stuff in for overnight stays.
If it were anyone else, Toji would have expected the various articles of clothing and personal items that had steadily accumulated inside your spacious home to be thrown out carelessly like trash on your equally spacious lawn. That or burning in the firepit. 
If it was anyone else but you, it’s what Toji would have expected, but you weren’t petty that way; even now as you stand before him, arms crossed, gaze almost blank, you radiate a certain measure of dignity. It’s one of those things Toji’s come to admire about you over the past year. It’s effortless, that magnetizing charm you exude; he liked it right away.
“You can keep the bags, sell them if you want.” Your lips form a small but rueful smile. “I sent you a check; call it a severance fee.”
“I thought I didn’t work for you anymore.”
Toji hasn’t considered you a client in months, though really, a mark was more accurate. You were disgustingly wealthy with a cute face and that was all he needed to pounce on the offer to be your bodyguard and occasional companion to the odd social events. Even cleaned up and polished, Toji was able to keep others away in droves, exactly what you were aiming for; you found social obligations tedious and his handsome yet intimidating presence kept everyone around you from lingering too long and insisting on taking up too much of your time and attention. Toji spent the first three or so months in your company essentially as an employee and he was satisfied with the arrangement. It would have been so easy and simple, it should have been, had you not burrowed your way into his head, like a bullet piercing bone. 
Dammit he never should have fucked you. Toji had every intention of keeping things professional. He should have kept his distance, he certainly shouldn’t have let his fingers trace your skin after zipping up your dress, and damn you by the way for looking over your shoulder at him with those pretty doe eyes and not telling him off when the second you caught Toji leaning in, almost like he wasn’t realizing he was doing it, to get a whiff of your scent mixed with the perfume he had said was his favorite. 
“You don’t have to keep the charade up anymore; it’s insulting at this point. I won’t force you to stay here.”
“You’re dumping me.”
“No. That would mean we were actually dating. Toji…Fushiguro-san, I made a mistake.” You’re almost talking to yourself as you look over Toji’s tensed shoulders to the entrance of your home. “I was fooling myself, thinking you could open your heart to me. But, I knew what I signed up for. So, no, I won’t leave you without any job security until you find your next meal ticket.”
“You’re not-”
“I heard you. Please, it’s not like you to back track on your words, so don’t start on my account.”
Toji was bragging over the phone, giving a verbal middle finger to an asshole of a former employer who demanded Toji’s services for a hit. You overheard him refer to you as a “piggy bank” with a pretty face, among other things. Shortly after ending the call, Toji left to work out (he couldn’t get too lazy, got to keep in shape to protect his favorite girl) and grab some food (on your card) only to return to this. You didn't even give Toji a chance to greet you with the usual flurry of kisses and a bear hug before telling him point blank he was leaving and now.
Even as Toji struggles to wrap his mind around your abrupt change in demeanor, with that practiced look of almost serene impassivity, you look so good to him, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and tiny bike shorts. You always dress down at home, in comfy, baggy things. Toji supposes you packed away all the sweatshirts you’ve collected from him with everything else of his. 
“You won’t even let me apologize?” Toji stands stiffly in the foyer, next to the bags; behind him is the front door, still open, as if waiting for him to step outside. “It was all shit talking. I didn’t mean how it sounded.”
“That doesn’t make it better and it’s not just that. You’ve been hot and cold lately. Admit it: you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge me as anything but an obligation.” You exhale slowly, rubbing your temple. “I’ve tried to be understanding; you lost your wife and I realized it would be hard. I knew that, I knew there was a chance that no matter how close we became, I was never going to be enough for you.”
You put up a good front, but Toji can recognize the faint tremble in your voice, see how your jaw locks slightly, as though you’re holding back curses. He’s hurt you. 
“Baby, c’mere?” Toji opens his arms with a pleading half smile. “You’ve been stressed lately, that’s all. You’ve been working hard and I haven’t been showing my appreciation properly, is that it?”
“Oh spare me. Listen, I won’t swear revenge or sick henchmen on your trail.” You go on, calm as can be, not budging an inch. “The check won’t bounce and all your things are there; if I missed anything, I’ll send it to you. You’re free to go.”
Toji stares at you in disbelief, arms dropping to his sides. You could have just as easily said "you're dismissed" with that cutting tone of yours.
“Are you fucking serious?” 
When you fail to respond, he suddenly turns from you, but not to storm off. Instead, Toji slams the front door closed so hard, it’s a wonder the whole structure didn’t come crashing down. You don’t so much as flinch when Toji strides up to get in your face.
“I want my stuff out of these bags.” he snarls. "Now."
“There’s no need to make a scene. It’s not like you’ll be without a benefactor for long; I bet you could find another meal ticket just walking down my driveway. The whole neighborhood is full of lonely rich women, you can have your pick.”
“You’re not a meal ticket. You know that, you know I didn’t mean it dammit!”
“Enough.” You raise a hand up, your voice clipped. “Fushiguro-san, you have your things, plenty of money, and my own promise to leave you in peace. What more could you possibly want? What exactly is it that you’re holding out for? You don’t expect me to fund you indefinitely, I’m sure.”
"Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even give a shit?"
Toji’s hands clenched into fists; he’s radiating power and murderous intent, but you don’t look swayed or even scared. You know he wouldn’t strike you. Just the idea sickens him; no, it’s not you he’s actually angry with. 
“I’m a fucking idiot who wanted to show off, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? Fine. Now we’re gonna talk this out like adults, I’ll put this shit back-"
“No, you will not. I want it gone. I want you gone. Don’t you understand?” You tell him firmly, eyes finally averting to the pile of bags. Toji’s puffed chest deflates at the sadness that finally touches your inflection. “I’m disappointed enough as it is; can’t you do this one thing for my sake? Why are you insisting on dragging this out?”
“I want to put it all back.” Toji blurts out stubbornly, so loud his voice echoes in the high ceilings. “You can’t do this to me, I want to stay.”
“Excuse me?” You snap. “What exactly am I ‘doing to you’?”
“Come on, this is so silly, kicking me out over a misunderstanding.” Toji lowers his voice, a smile coming to his lips as he attempts to charm you once again, hands coming up to gently grasp your shoulders. “You’re breakin’ my heart here. You said it yourself, it’s a been over a year, you know me-”
“Do I?”
“Yes!” Toji steps forward, a strained grin on his lips. “You do. You know me and you know you’re my best girl.”
“Out of all the others?”
“Best and only; I haven’t been with anyone else in months.” Toji rubs his hands over your arms but you only give him a look of derision. “I’m not lying; tell you the truth, ever since we went out to the beach, it’s only been you. Remember that trip?” he grins softly, nuzzles your temple; he knows you want to lean into him, you’re just being stubborn. How adorable. He loves when you get grumpy and need his help relaxing. “I showed you how to make a fire and we fell asleep outside on the hammock. That night was something else...you’ve been the only one ever since. Baby, I swear, there haven't been any other women.” 
Toji inches closer, hands shaking slightly where they grip your shoulders; his love bites are still visible, some more faint than others; his arms ache to hold you. You’re so close, so what’s with this wall you’re putting up? 
"I want to believe that."
"It's the truth."
Toji isn’t sure how or when it began, but before he knew it, you were calling just to talk and ask how he was doing, if he needed anything. You requested he join you not just for meetings as extra muscle or posing as a date, but on walks and meals, having conversations about the weather to debates about the nature of man to whether toast was better with jelly or jam. You’d take Toji out randomly on shopping trips and end up buying him pretty much anything that caught his eye. Anything Toji wanted, he got, and along with it you increasingly showered him with praise and affection. 
When the sex began Toji thought he got you out of his system the first time, only to end up not just repeating these trysts, but staying longer and longer after he fucked your brains out. It was borderline embarrassing, how quickly Toji found himself lulled in by your pillowtalk as you encouraged him to sleep in, promising you’d have breakfast ready for him in the morning. Sometimes, Toji would come over when you weren’t even home with the spare keys you gifted him and promptly burrow himself in your bed until you were due home. The whole room smelled sweet and it was so cozy being wrapped in the down blankets. Toji's eyelids would get heavier as he wallowed in your scented sheets ike a pig rolling in mud until the combined aromas of your perfumes, lotions, and natural scent clung to his nostrils, soothing and oddly familiar; within minutes Toji would be out like a light. After some of the best rest he had ever gotten, Toji would wake up to you stroking his head, petting him like a dog, and asking him what he would like for dinner. 
Eventually, inevitably, came the point of no return. During that beach trip Toji told you about his past; he didn’t go into too much detail, mainly that he had loved someone and he was pretty sure lightning only struck once. You didn’t get jealous or angry; you simply kissed his knuckles and put your hand over his, not saying much of anything while Toji spoke. That night on the beach you held his hand and allowed him to reminisce at his own pace into the early hours of the morning, until he was too exhausted to do anything else but hold you and the two of you stayed that way until noon.
That peaceful, almost unreal night, Toji realized you actually gave a shit about him and he didn’t know what to do with that. Regardless, you made it clear you didn’t expect to own his heart and soul. You only promised to take care of him. 
“I was being stubborn, you know how I get sometimes. You’re my one and only, baby, can’t we just forget about it?”
“I want you to leave.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
“No!”
Toji’s hands cup your cheeks and he winces at the disgust in your eyes; why are you looking at him like that? 
“Okay, okay, let me make it up.” Toji’s voice is sweet as pie; he leans in, practically purring in your ear. “Let’s go upstairs. I’ll show you how sorry I am.”
“Get. Off. I knew you were shameless, but this is...”
You might as well have slapped him across the face; Toji’s smile falls as you glare like he’s some repulsive insect, a leech, like the thought of him touching you is making your skin crawl.
Toji’s hands retract from your face, expression blank. “You’re really serious.”
“Don’t give me that kicked puppy look. As if you don’t have women on speed dial to call up. Why don’t you make up with one of your other meal tickets? I’m sure they’ll have forgiven you by now for however you wronged them-”
“I told you there isn’t anyone else. Don’t do this.” Toji mutters, head hanging; his chest throbs, he can feel sweat trickle down his temple. “Don’t make me go.”
It’s doubtful you could forcibly remove Toji from your presence, but that’s beside the point. It doesn’t mean anything if you don’t want him. 
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“No, I’m really sorry.” Toji falls to his knees. “Don’t make me go.”
“Hey, wait, what are you…?”
Toji wraps his arms around your thighs, face pressed into your waist; you stiffen but he hangs on tighter, fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.
“Please, don’t make me. I wanna go upstairs, back to our bed. Listen, I,” Toji pries himself away from you just enough so he can look at you with glassy eyes. He’s panicking now, babbling and frantic as you try to pry off his arms. “Stop that! Baby, I got all messed up about getting too attached and I-I didn’t mean anything I said, you gotta believe me.”
“Toji, let go!” 
A cold sweat makes Toji’s already tight shirt stick to his tensed back muscles; he feels like he’s being choked. How could you do this to him? All he wants is to stay with you, whether it’s as a bodyguard, a hired companion, a fuck toy, hell, he’ll settle for being your pet if that’s what it takes to get you to take him back. 
"You promised you'd take care of me." he mutters, ignoring your vain attempts at freeing yourself from his unyielding hold. "I don't...want it to be anyone else."
Toji won’t let you go. You’ve made him lazy and spoiled with your pampering; he doesn’t have to work if he doesn’t want to, never has to worry about money or food or rent, and he never has to wake up alone anymore. Whether Toji’s angry, tired, bored, or as of late, happy, you’re the first person he thinks of. You give him everything and now you’re trying to cut him off.
"You let me go right now!" You slap at his shoulders, try to pull back his head from where it's pressed into your midsection. "Are you even listening?!"
With a distressed moan, Toji nuzzles your tummy, kisses the skin peeking out from your sweatshirt riding up under his forearms; his rough hands relax their grasp a fraction to caress your hips. 
“Let me stay. I won’t answer calls from my old bosses, I’ll quit betting. If I look at another woman, gouge my eyes out. All you have to do is tell me how to fix things.” Toji smiles at you, one he knows makes women weak in the knees. “Don’t be mad at me anymore. I’ll make it up, I swear. I’ll do anything you want.” he promises between kisses and nips to your skin. “Why are we wasting time arguing? You know, I can make you feel so good. My poor baby, spending all day working so damn hard; you deserve better. I'll help take the edge off...you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can help, just-”
“Toji, stop-”
“Just let me dammit!” 
Toji feels you freeze up; you’re looking back at him with wide eyes. His stomach drops like a rock.
“Sorry…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
No. Now you look scared, maybe a bit concerned; is that for him? Toji can feel some warmth creeping into his chest in spite of everything; you’re so good to him. You went to so much trouble for him and he has no idea why. 
You can’t do this. You can’t treat him like a thing to be cherished and then take it all away. Toji just wants things to go back to how they were that morning, with you feeding him berries and syrup drenched pieces of fluffy pancakes, giving him teasing kisses in between each bite, asking what his plans were for the day as he lounges in your lap, wondering what he did to deserve to be so content and full and happy. You made him so happy.
“Shit.” Toji sniffs; he can feel them coming but can’t stop the tears leaking from his eyes. “Shit.” he curses again, bowing his head until it’s resting against your tummy again. “You can’t…you can’t leave me. I won’t let you. I won’t let you abandon me. I can’t-”
“Toji, calm down.” Your voice softens considerably. “Look, do you understand why I’m upset with you?”
“I know, I know I fucked up okay?” Toji croaks, still clinging to your legs. “So what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? I already said I would do anything you want, so just tell me!”
“Sh, come on, breathe. I need you to calm down, alright?” You bend at the waist slightly, to card your fingers through his damp hair. “Okay, I believe you. I do. I believe you, Toji.”
“Are you gonna kick me out still?”
“No, I won’t for the time being. We can sit down and talk about-whoa!”
Toji wastes no time; he has you lifted off the ground in his arms. You quickly wrap your arms around his shoulders as he makes a beeline for the stairs.
“Slow down!” You glance backward in disbelief at how easily he bounds up the carpet steps. “How are you so strong? Don’t drop me, okay?”
But Toji doesn’t answer; he practically bolts, finally reaching the next level, races down the hallway until he’s at the door to your-the bedroom he and you share. Toji’s heavy boot easily kicks the door open, somehow without breaking it off the hinges; in record time you’re on the bed, but shockingly, Toji doesn’t start stripping you down.
“Toji?” You ask tentatively; he seems fairly out of it and you can’t help feel worried. “Toji, what are you doing?”
“Baby, I’m tired. Let’s just go to bed, huh?” 
Toji kicks off his boots, gently sits you down in the middle of the mattress among the fluffy pillows and the cheap plush bunny he won for you at a crane machine. Nearly hyperventilating, Toji climbs into bed after you, snatches the sheets and comforter to wrap around the two of you in a soft cocoon. Toji grabs you, cradling you in close as he tries to even out his breathing; for a fleeting second you wonder if this is what stuffed animals felt, if they could become sentient, when children held them tight for comfort. Your attention is brought back by the man rubbing his face into your hair insistently, as if he could tell your mind had briefly wandered.
“Hey, are you-?”
“Don’t make me go.” Toji cuts you off hoarsely. “You love me, right?”
“I do.”
“Say it.”
“I do love you.” You confess sincerely, words muffled slightly due to your face being squished into his chest; his heart is beating a mile and minute. “I was hurt, alright? I want to be good to you, Toji. You have to let me though; you’re not the type to dance around an issue. I just want you to be honest with me and yourself.”
“Yes, yes, I want that. You’re so good to me, baby, thank you.” Toji wraps his legs around yours; if there was a way for you to mold into him he’d make it happen. “Can I move my stuff back in?”
“I…” You hesitate. “Maybe we’re moving too fast.”
“What? No we aren’t. If anything, we're not moving fast enough. Are you still thinking of leaving?” Toji grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him; his eyes look crazed. “You’re not right? You just fucking said you loved me-!”
“Hey, hey.” You put your hands over his gently. “If you really meant what you said before, you have to listen and be good. Can you do that for me?”
Toji nods quickly. You smile for him, finally, and it's a sight for sore eyes. How do you always look so pretty? Toji’s chest throbs and he hugs you, making your ear press against his heart; you can hear it, right? It almost stopped dead when you were glowering at him, Toji still can't believe he was so close to losing this. It's not going to happen again.
“I wanna touch you.”
Toji separates from you as abruptly as he had squeezed you to him; he hovers above you, tugging on the band of your shorts, your panties. He groans pitifully when you still look unsure. Toji hikes your legs up until your ass is pressed to his chest and he’s face to face with your pussy, still covered up. That won’t do: wordlessly, he rips the seams of your shorts apart and pulls your panties to the side. Gently spreading your pussy lips with his fingers, Toji makes sure to look you in the eyes while he lets a long trail of spit trickle from his tongue to your exposed clit. 
“See?” he licks a long strip over your slit, salivating at the taste. “I’m drooling for it, just like a dog….heh, I can be your dog. Is that what you want? I’ll fetch and roll over and beg.” he traces his tongue around your swollen clit. “All you gotta do is ask.”
You can barely form words, forget making requests, as Toji slobbers, licking and sucking until you’re dripping wet. Your hands grip the pillows and your head rolls back and forth; you can hardly speak and you’re more squealing than moaning when Toji starts using his fingers to fuck your soaked pussy.
“I’m loyal too. You’re not ever getting rid of me.” 
Toji pulls back, kisses and nips the inside of your thigh as he watches his fingers disappear inside you over and over again. He’s smiling down at you, dumbly, in a daze as you let out soft cries with every pump of his wrist, every time his thumb rubs a touch too hard on your clit. He’s the only one who gets to see you like this, composure gone, face flushed, eyes wide, hardly able to do more than moan and whine at his touches. Toji’s smile turns devilish; he purposefully pulls his fingers out and shoves them back in to draw out the squelch sounds from how wet he’s made you. He slowly drags his fingers out all the way and you inhale sharply from the sensation.
“It’s my turn to spoil you.”
Toji lowers your hips down on the sheets and quickly shrugs off his sweatpants and underwear; his cock bobs when it’s released and you’re a bit shocked at how hard he is despite not touching himself.
“Let me fuck you.” Toji rocks his hips, cock over the inside of your thigh. “You still want me, right?”
And if you think he’s going to stop at one round, if you think for a second one time is going to be enough and you somehow still plan to have him out on his ass, maybe you don’t know him. Toji’s fingers dig into your ass; he’s rutting now, throbbing and dripping precum all over you and the bedspread. It brings a twisted grin to his face, like he’s marking his territory. After all, this is where he belongs. If you won’t be persuaded by his touch and words alone, Toji has other ways, he just doesn't want to resort to making you afraid of him. 
Because he meant exactly what he said: you're not getting rid of him. If you try to, Toji will just come back. If you run, he'll chase, if you hide, he'll come looking. You've made him into this.
“’M being good, yeah?” Toji lowers his head to your chest to slobber over your nipples next, barely able to speak with his lips sucking and his tongue flicking over them. “I can keep making you feel good, just let me fuck you, let me put in in, let me wreck you-”
“Toji, I want to ride your cock tonight.” You play with his hair and kiss his jaw. “Can I?”
Toji doesn’t hesitate; he throws himself back to lie on your pillows, getting even harder as your scent hits him. He licks his lips in anticipation as you straddle him, stroking him once before lining the tip up with your pussy. Toji’s eyes roll in the back of his head as you slowly sink down, clenching tight; he has to grab at the sheets and force himself to be still, has to keep telling himself this is for you, he’s going to go at your pace and show you how good he can be, obedient and careful. You’ve got him wrapped around your finger and he loves it-
“It almost hurts. You're so hard.” You gasp when you’re fully seated on his cock. “Oh, Toji…are you going to cum soon?”
“Nah, don’t worry about that baby.” Toji grins up at you, face flushed and hands shaking as they cling to the pillowcase. “So good…it feels so fucking good when I’m all the way inside. Go on, use my cock to cum, ride me until your pussy can’t take it.”
You tilt your hips so the tip of Toji’s cock rubs against that spot that makes you see stars and your clit gets rubbed against him with every thrust. At first you have your hands over his chest, but when Toji tries to slide his hands up to grab at your tits, you stop him.
“Huh?”
“No, you don’t get to touch me.” You pant out, gently but firmly holding Toji’’s hands above his head. “Tha-that’s your punishment.”
Toji’s brow furrows; he’s practically pouting. He knows he said "anything", but he wants to touch you so badly. Your tits look good enough to eat, nipples slick and begging to be played with, and your skin feels like silk on his fingers. Toji watches, biting the inside of his cheek, tasting blood when you start bouncing, thighs taut and face contorted in pleasure as you get closer and closer to making a mess on his lap.
“Baby,” Toji groans. “Come on, let me, you’re close right? It’ll feel better.”
“I can cum like this.” You say playfully as you tap his pursed lips with one finger. “You said you'd be good.”
“Just wanna touch you....” Toji’s hands twitch but he doesn’t shake off your grip; he raises his hips and you let out a whine. “Please?"
You stop moving and Toji grits his teeth, staring at you with wide eyes. 
“Hey…why did you stop?” 
“Sorry,” You smile in genuine delight. “You’re really adorable, you know that?”
“Fuck, keep goin’,” Toji nibbles the tip of your finger before you pull it away. “Come on, keep making my dick wet,”
“So cute.” You cup his face and press a long, loving kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Toji, I really do.”
Toji can’t stop himself; he yanks you down, traps you in his arms and thrusts up. 
“Ah!” 
“Sorry, ‘m sorry baby. I gotta,” Toji slurs. “Ah fuck it.”
You shriek as Toji flips you over; he has your legs spread and lowers his face down to suck and kiss and bite at your breasts, slamming his cock as deep inside your pussy as he can go. He briefly touches your hair, patting your head as you scream and writhe, smiling down at you so warmly even as his cock splits you open.
“Can’t help it. Need it, need this so fucking bad.” 
Toji latches onto your neck, sucking so hard you think he might tear the skin; you cry out and your nails accidentally scratch long, red lines down his back and shoulders. You’re clawing and sobbing, completely overwhelmed underneath him. He’s fucking you like an animal with no regard for pacing or rhythm, holding you down and open for him to slam his cock inside your swollen little pussy. Toji straightens up to grind himself into you just the way he knows you like best, gently rubbing away at your clit, smirking at the way you gush around his cock. You’re so pretty like this, flushed and messy for him.
“Tell me again. Tell me you love me and I’ll make you cum so hard your legs shake.”
“Love you,” You gasp, arms wrapping around Toji’s bulging neck, drawing him in closer; you press kisses over his cheeks, nose, chin. “I love you, I-ah!”
Toji is done being patient; he keeps his thumb pressed down on your clit, rubbing it harshly as he grinds his cock right into that spot, deep and hard; you’re never going to forget how his cock feels. Toji kisses you none too gently, lips prying your mouth open as he shoves his tongue down your throat; he really doesn’t even mean to be rough this time. The desire to devour you is overtaking him. 
He’s so close. Your pussy’s soaking, his head’s spinning; just before Toji’s about to cum, you muster up enough energy to hold him back tightly and pet his hair, moaning softly into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. Toji wanted to last longer, but it’s too much. Abruptly, he breaks the kiss and his mouth goes to your jugular; Toji swears he can feel your pulse under his teeth.
“Cum inside me.” You plead, whimpering into his ear. “I want it…want you, Toji, no one else.”
“Shit.” Toji presses his forehead to yours, hiking up your thighs; the bed is creaking and shaking with the force of his thrusts. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”
Toji goes rigid and still as he cums, cock suddenly painfully sensitive; when you smile tiredly and kiss the palm of his hand, actual tears well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s all too much. He didn’t know he could even still feel like this, feel much of anything anymore. You shudder from his hot cum gushing inside you, but Toji doesn’t pull out just yet and you don’t seem in a hurry to move him anyway.
“I think you broke my dick.”
“...pardon me?”
“Pretty sure your pussy drained me dry…fuck.” Toji chuckles tiredly, very slowly pulling himself out, smiling in satisfaction as his cum seeps out of you and onto the sheets. “Did you like that?”
“I loved it.” You tell him softly, just beginning to catch your own breath as Toji uses his shirt to gently wipe you clean between your legs. “Toji?”
“Yeah?” Toji tosses his shirt somewhere and lays over you. “You want me to get you something? I bet you’re real tired after that.”
You pause; you look very serious all of a sudden, all business once more. “Toji, we really should talk about ‘us’. I don’t think we can just return to what we were.”
“What? But you said you loved me.” Toji raises his head to glare at you. “You’re not seeing other men, so put that idea out of your fucking head.”
“That is not what I meant!” 
“Okay…what is it then?”
“I was going to say, are you sure this is what you want?” You ask carefully, looking into his eyes. “Is this really what you want?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” Toji can’t believe you even have to ask; he frowns and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Fair warning, I’ll find you if you try to leave before I wake up.”
“I don’t doubt it, you’re an excellent tracker.”
“I mean it.” Toji mumbles into the crook of your neck, his heavy arm over your stomach. “You run, I’m hunting you down.”
“I wasn’t planning on making a grand escape; I was thinking something more along the lines of breakfast in bed.” You suggest and smile at the way Toji’s visibly perks up. “Oh, have you had dinner yet?”
“No, I came straight here from the gym.” he lies, eager to have you fuss over him. "I'm really hungry..."
“I’ll order in something; what do you want?” 
“Anything, just get lots of it.” Toji squeezes you. “But don’t go yet though. Wanna stay like this a little longer.”
“Whatever you want.”
In minutes, Toji is snoring and curled up in your sheets like a tuckered out puppy; his leg even kicks randomly. When he wakes up to the smell of warm food and your nails gently scratching his scalp, Toji yawns with a groggy smile and opens his mouth for you to feed him, licking crumbs off your fingers greedily. You really do spoil him. 
609 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
you’re probably sick of animagus reader fics but if you’re up for it i was wondering whether you were in the mood for some remus x fem reader?
maybe r is a dormouse or smth and just practically stays tucked inside rem’s sweaters or the inside pockets of his robes/blazer. r possibly falls out his sweater is a really crowded corridor (can’t change back) and rem panics cause he doesn’t fancy his girl being flattened <3
You make a mental note, while fleeing the shadows of impending doom that cascade onto the chilled stone floor around you, that you need to make sure Remus never buys another pair of pants with such shallow pockets. You typically cling to the inside of his sweater, but he's bundled up a little too warm for your taste today, and you'd tucked yourself into the linty confines of his corduroys instead.
It had all been going well, until someone had bumped rather aggressively into his thigh, the one that you were pressed worriedly against, and you'd darted to your left to escape the pain. Unfortunately, left was the direction of the pocket's opening, and the fall to the stone tile beneath you had been a monumental one for your small size.
Thankfully, you hadn't splattered against the tile, but you're running for your life now, and you seem to be swimming upstream no matter which direction you turn. There's always feet working against you, feet close to trampling your tail, feet threatening to squash your lungs, and you yearn for the solace of Remus's plush pocket once more.
Remus only gets a few steps away from the spot where you'd tumbled unceremoniously to the ground before he reaches his hand into his pocket, intent on scooping you out and discreetly moving you to his sweater. But there's nothing in his pockets save for a button that had fallen off of the inside of his book bag, and panic seizes his chest in its heavy, unforgiving claws.
"Uh-" He flounders, steps hesitantly stuttering over the floor as the ebb and flow of students around him becomes suffocating. Now, all of a sudden, he's not a part of the crowd, he's what they're fighting against, and he pats down his other pockets in case you'd just moved addresses.
You haven't.
Dropping to his knees is rather difficult amidst a stampede, and it's not only his weary joints that ache, but his hands as disgruntled students hoof over them. He ignores the way his pinky smarts, twinging pink with a pained flush beneath the toe of a third-year, and ducks his head to the ground to see if he can spot you scampering amongst the students.
There's movement all around him, but none if it is your size. Black and red and green and blue and yellow blur through his vision as students of all houses flood the halls, and each second that he doesn't find you alive and well worries at his heart with panic's mangled claws. He thinks he sees you to his left, but- oh, that's a cat, and that's worse, so he ducks even further to the ground, and redoubles his effots.
Thankfully, you've noticed the deviated path the students are now taking, annoyed grumbles about the idiot stooped in the hallway. That's your idiot, you think, and you scamper as fast as your tiny legs allow to meet Remus where he knees.
He sees you coming, his pretty eyes flood with a relief so palpable you can feel it in your own chest, and just before you can scurry into his outstretched hand, you feel something heavy land on your tail and trap you in your place. You feel a puff of breath against your back, and the snare of cat's claws against the meat of your tail, but before the beast can lean down and devour you, Remus lunges for your body, cupping his hand over your trembling form and swatting the animal away.
"Absolutely not, thank you." Remus snaps at the cat, and a second-year gives him a rather apprehensive stare as she hurries around him, "Darling, are you okay?"
You're not very articulate in mouse form, but you manage a thankful squeak, one that Remus smiles fondly at while straightening up.
The cat doesn't look very happy with him, but Remus isn't afraid of a few more scratches on his arm, and you nestle securely into his palm when he straightens, limbs limp with confident exhaustion, that he'd let the cat claw open each one of his scars ten times before he ever let it get a shot at you.
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ficnation · 7 months
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Chapter 1: Dig In
Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings
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Will Graham hasn’t seen you in years—years that felt like centuries to him. When you greet him, your voice is like a songbird’s serenade—sweet, peaceful, and meant only for his ears. It was a melody he missed dearly yet never dared to summon in his mind, even as the memories of you bled into his dreams.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice breaking at the last word. The question is not hostile, but it’s not friendly either. He knows you didn’t expect him to greet you like an old friend would. You know him too well for that—or at least you knew him before Hannibal Lecter barged into his life.
A smile crawls up your face, but it never reaches your eyes. You came here because you know, you know someone’s version of the story. But you crave to see the truth—to find out exactly what happened—and you know that Will is the only person who can provide you with the answers you’re looking for.
Jack Crawford raises his hand, his palm facing Will in a silent greeting—almost a peace offer. He keeps his distance as he lifts your suitcases out of the trunk of his car. He’s the one that called you, told you everything you needed to know, how Will lost his mind, how he keeps insisting that an innocent man—someone he considered a friend—is the Chesapeake Ripper.
Will can’t help but snicker at the thought of how this conversation went. You don’t seem bothered by the change in his expression—you hardly ever were, and he was always surprised by your unflappable composure.
“I’m going to stay with you, Will.” It’s not a question nor a suggestion fueled by concern over his well-being. It’s a declaration, and he has absolutely no say in this matter. Jack Crawford has already made that decision for him, and Will is in no position to object—he’s well aware of it.
Will nods and gesticulates to the door of his house. It’s a reluctant invitation forced out of him by his boss’ incessant gaze.
You don’t let him think about it for much longer, fearing he’ll withdraw the offer. You walk up the stairs of the porch and cross the doorstep. The inside is no warmer than the bitter winter on the other side of the door. You shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself for heat.
A flock of dogs runs up to you, wagging their tails in excitement. Some of them you’ve already met before, and some of them seem like recent additions to Will’s collection of strays. You pat each dog on the head as you take off your boots by the entrance. You note that you no longer feel like you are just another stray Will has taken into his home.
The warmth of the friendly dogs quickly makes you forget how much you don’t belong here; you enjoy their company for a moment before reluctantly moving on to explore the room.
Not much has changed since the last time you were here. Will’s bed is still in the room, and you remember the time he confessed to you that it makes him feel more aware of his surroundings—gives him a sparse flicker of safety. He has easy access to the windows overlooking the outside, and he hears whenever someone walks up the stairs to his porch. It’s a small shred of comfort to cling to in the midst of his torment—you understand his reasoning.
The fireplace is the same one you used to warm up in front of every morning when you slept over—just surrounded by more dog beds than before. The old, simple in their design but surprisingly comfortable armchairs stand in their designated spots. Dog toys litter the carpeted floor, while books and familiar trinkets overwhelm the shelves, though if you look more closely, you find new additions mixed in with the old.
“Nothing has changed,” you say to yourself and the chill air of the room. You don’t hear Will’s footsteps as he joins you in the heart of his house.
“I did.” His words make your head whip around to face him, your eyes finding his. There’s a certain darkness in his statement—one you recognize.
The brown curls on his head frame his face in an untamed mess. He’s beautiful, and you find yourself still affected by his proximity.
“I don’t think you did.”
“You’ve been here for seven minutes, I can’t imagine you know much,” Will retorted.
“I know you, Will.” You meet his eyes for a few seconds—it doesn’t take much longer for him to look away. He hasn’t changed.
“Not anymore. Believe me,” his voice is certain and steady, but his hands shake as he reaches for your cozy black coat.
You let him slide it off your shoulders—the chill of the room refreshing. Will Graham isn’t a gentleman—he’s never conformed to society’s expectations. The gesture isn’t meant to impress you, make you swoon, or simply check a box. He does it because he still feels something toward you—he still cares.
You don’t talk much after that. Will makes some space for your stuff in his closet and leaves your suitcases in one of the many empty rooms. You thank him with another smile that doesn’t reach your eyes—there’s too much worry in them to convey your gratitude.
He goes on a walk with the dogs while you decide to take stock of his fridge and cupboards in search of any ingredients that you could possibly turn into a late dinner—french crepes filled with whatever jam or other sweet spreading he has in his kitchen.
You make yourself cozy in one of the armchairs in front of the crackling fireplace, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you when the door opens, and a blast of cold winter air rushes in along with seven dogs, melting snow clinging onto their fur stubbornly. They sniff around the room in search of the source of the sweet, delicious smell.
Will follows in their steps, taking off his boots by the door. It won’t take long for his socks to soak up the drops of water scattered over the floor—remnants of the snow shaken off by the happy furry beasts. He says nothing for a few long minutes, merely taking in your form, the sweet smell, and the cozy atmosphere. It feels like you belong here, even if just for a moment until you deem him deranged and leave again for long years.
“Crepes?” he asks finally, sliding off his heavy jacket. Will imprints on his memory the image of you so peaceful and comfortable in his home, in his presence.
You hum in response, sticking the fork back into your mouth. “I only found jam and peanut butter.”
“It’s an accomplishment you found anything at all.” He chuckles but isn’t truly amused by it—it is a pitiful sound.
The brunet disappears into the kitchen, and when he returns, his plate is filled with food. He sits down in the other armchair with a heavy sigh—a sound so murky only an old man could make or someone so exhausted with life they didn’t see a point in it anymore.
“I believe you, you know?”
Will’s head shoots up in your direction; he almost chokes on his crepes. He didn’t foresee that at all—the thought of you believing him without even hearing his side of the story, believing in his conviction that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper without even asking for evidence. When everyone around him considered him delusional and regarded his accusation with ignorance or anger—you believed him. He straightens up in his seat, looking at you expectantly, begging silently for you to continue.
“I suppose Jack didn’t tell you why exactly am I here, huh?” Will shakes his head, making you sigh deeply as you mindlessly stab the remaining crepe on your plate with the fork—he notices the anger simmering behind your irises. “Figured. They found my father’s killer in our old house.”
“Dead?”
You nod in confirmation.
“Suicide.” Your voice isn’t relieved; it doesn’t incandesce with light like it should.
Will knows that sometimes, even when the murderer is caught or killed, it takes a while to really settle into witnesses’ minds, and sometimes, they never taste that sweetness of relief for the rest of their lives. Yet, it doesn’t seem to be the problem in your case.
“He was missing a lot of blood and it didn’t appear to be anything abnormal back then so they considered the case solved. Let us come out of hiding.”
“Except it wasn’t a suicide,” the man finishes your thought. He’s right—like always. “Someone wanted you to come back… The real killer?”
He looks at you for confirmation, but his idea seems to be too facile—child’s play. If that were the case, the FBI wouldn’t let you stay with him without protection—unless they considered him your protector. Something feels off about it.
“Will, my sister was killed by the Chesapeake Ripper.”
Will stares at you with his eyes wide open. He’s looking at your face in a way that he’s never looked before. He can finally see you, your emotions, and despair—the mask you hid them under shatters into crumbs and floats away with his shaky breath. He hears the misery in your voice now—almost sees your winsome heart smashed into a million pieces inside your chest.
“I’m so sorry… I—” Will’s words are automatic as he processes your statement. He stays perfectly still in his armchair. “I didn’t—”
“What’s done is done, Will,” you interrupt him, shaking your head—a silent plea that he doesn’t blame himself for it. It doesn’t help—he still does.
The moment you stop talking, he can hear the faint ticking of the watch on your wrist. He looks at you, waiting for more to come, but you stay silent. Your eyes linger on your plate with a half-eaten crepe—the jam spilling out onto the white ceramic canvas; you seem to be contemplating something.
He remembers back on that stormy night when you came home at the end of a particularly complicated and brutal investigation—soaked and chilled to the bone. You had a small cut on your arm, not big enough to require stitches, but he wanted—no, he needed—to clean it up and kiss it all better, anyway.
Will could tend to a cut on your skin, but he couldn’t scour the one on your soul—he couldn’t kiss it all better. He always felt the need to fix things—fix you. Now? He has no idea how to take that pain away from you.
He knows he should be glad to see you—glad to see you again. But right now, there’s only sadness, confusion, and guilt because, somehow, this isn’t quite you. There has been this beautiful, bright light shining from you, but it’s missing, and the man feels the loss of it inside. He wants to reach out and take this sadness away from you, comfort you, and bring back that light you always had. He almost wants to cry—he doesn’t even know why himself.
Will swallows hard and finally speaks, voice shaking, “Can I ask you something?”
He hesitates as if afraid of the potential answer. The only thing keeping him from sinking into emptiness is your presence, and asking the wrong question might have a devastating effect. Will looks at you—eyes pleading for understanding.
“Yes. Of course…”
“What did he take?” He almost doesn’t recognize his voice. It seems to be a mere whimper—a noise buried deep within a wounded animal’s throat.
“Her heart.”
Your words strike him like a bullet. Will closes his eyes, trying hard to keep the salty water from filling them. The loss of one heart was unbearable, losing another one physically… He tries to find a reason not to be angry at fate—but there is none. The world gave you back to him, but at what cost?
He reaches out, taking your hand in his. His touch seems reassuring and gentle, but his eyes betray his anger. “I never should have let you leave...”
You ignore his words, looking into the void, and continue, “Her lungs.”
Another cruel twist of the dagger in his gut. He feels your hand squeeze his, almost as if it were asking for comfort. Yet, Will cannot be a comfort at this moment—he is too enraged at the thought of such brutality.
His gaze turns cold as stone, his hand tightening around yours as he holds back the emotions boiling up inside him, threatening to explode and tear everything apart. His eyes remain closed—unwilling to see any more of your pain. You can feel the anger radiating from him like heat.
If she stops breathing, my heart will stop with it—those were his words to Hannibal. Another therapy session he now deeply regrets. It is his fault—his fault that your sister died. And amongst all the hatred, anger, and remorse, he feels a bone-chilling relief that it wasn’t you in her place.
He knows it’s twisted to think like that; he shouldn’t even feel like that, but he can’t imagine his life knowing you were buried deep—six feet beneath the earth he was walking on and still breathing. He doesn’t know whether it was Hannibal’s well-thought-through plan or his fucked up mistake, but Will is grateful.
You are breathing, alive, and your pulse is beating fast beneath his tight grasp. He does not want to let go of it—not yet.
Will opens his eyes, still unable to see your face, yet so very relieved. He doesn’t let go of your hand, his fingers running over your knuckles as if, by touch, he can somehow reassure himself that you weren’t his imagination.
The anger inside him still roils, but he no longer shows it. The only hint of his discomfort is the tightness with which he holds your hand.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he mumbles out, almost inaudible.
“No, Will, I won’t let anything happen to you.” You meet his gaze, your eyes almost begging. “I can’t lose you too. You’re the only one I have left.”
Will smiles at you sadly. His eyes filled with a strange light, his fingers running through your hair. Your plates have been long forgotten on the nearby windowsill as he leans forward and carefully touches your cheek, running his forefinger across your lips and down to your chin.
At first, you think the gesture is affectionate—intimate. But then you notice that he’s trying to remember your every feature. It’s painful to think that someone who loved you so dearly might have forgotten your face, the feel of your skin under his touch. Maybe it’s this thought that makes your eyes well up with tears; maybe it is the gesture itself. Or possibly even both.
This moment feels so real, so raw—you are tempted to believe in it, to be hopeful for your future, at least for a moment. But after all you went through, you know that hope is a dangerous thing, and it can turn against you. It’s been so long since all your hopes have been crushed you almost forgot how to have them... And just like that, the moment vanishes, and reality crashes back.
Later that night, when you come out of the shower and crawl into his bed—your clothes sticking to the slightly damp skin, your hair in an unruly mess—he simply opens his arms.
“You claim to be my friend, yet you sleep in my bed like a lover would,” he says—he still remembers the words you whispered to him when the roles were reversed.
Will smiles at the irony, his arms wrapping around you. Your hair is still dripping, the water sliding down your neck and onto his chest. It trickles down in rivulets to his stomach, creating wet spots on his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care.
You notice his grip is tighter than usual, yet you feel no pain, no discomfort. If he wanted to hurt you, he would. But you’re safe here—in his arms. Safer than you’ve ever been.
“Don’t pretend you don’t love having me in your bed,” you mumble against his neck, your minty breath tickling his skin.
His body shivers, and a soft sound escapes his lips. Your words remind him of the years of loneliness, of his body yearning for your touch. The sound is almost a whimper, and you feel his fingers twining in your wet hair.
The feeling is intoxicating. For years, he couldn’t touch a woman, didn’t even dream about having one so close to his skin, couldn’t feel someone’s body pressed tightly against him in a bed because they weren’t you—they dimmed in comparison. He missed it; he missed this connection, this skin-to-skin contact.
His hand lingers in your hair, the other one tracing your skin, exploring every inch of it, memorizing every imperfection, every bump beneath his palm.
“You haven’t been with anyone else, have you?” It’s not really a question—more of a sure statement—because, after all, you know Will like the back of your hand.
His head shakes, and both of his hands now run down your body. Will takes his sweet time exploring every inch of you—your hips, thighs, your stomach, and neck.
“I haven’t,” he whispers, almost embarrassed. As if his body belongs to someone else, and giving it to you now is a betrayal of that person.
Betrayal of you—the one he once knew—because he’s not entirely sure you’re still the same person. You were always so cheerful and full of life before—anything you touched, growing wings, flying out of the confines of its cage.
He yearns for this contact, craves a woman’s body—craves your body. He touches your skin, lightly running his fingertips over it, trying to bring back the memories from before. Will’s mind spins, trying to place the puzzle of you in the present.
He holds your face, trying to remember the way your eyes shined, the smile on your lips, the way your hair used to look. The feeling of your body, skin to skin, is almost painful. Your lips are so close, your heart beating so fast…
Winston jumps onto the bed, the weight and heat of his furry body on your calves makes you both pull away hesitantly.
“Sorry,” you mumble out the apology into the stillness of the air.
Will looks at you with a soft smile and a faint blush on his cheeks. “It’s fine.” He glances over at the dog. “What’s the matter, little fella? Can’t sleep?” He reaches over to pet the dog, then he turns his attention back to you.
The atmosphere changes completely, filled with the sounds of the night and Winston’s heavy breathing. Yet, although your physical proximity to Will has changed, you still feel connected to him in a way that only two people who are truly close can. The warmth of Winston’s body seems to melt the tension.
The dog snuggles up against you both, the three of you creating your own little world of peace. Will is the first to speak, “I’d rather be in bed with you only,” he sends you a smirk, “but I would still get the same amount of hair on my clothes.”
You feel your lips part in a grin; your breath catches in your throat, and it takes a moment before you’re able to answer his playful jab.
Will catches you in this moment of surprise as if he can smell your anticipation in the air. His hands wrap around your waist, dragging you closer until your bodies are pressed snugly once more.
When he smiles at you, it’s as if the world stops briefly. Your eyes lock, and for a second, there is nothing else but the two of you.
“It’s a sad thing your smile is so rare,” you whisper, your fingers tracing his stubbled jaw.
Will's heart pounds in his chest. He takes your hand in his, running his fingers along your skin. There's always been an undeniable spark between you, but this time, it feels different, more intense. Like if you let yourself go and let the spark ignite, the fire will burst out of your chest.
Will leans closer to you; your noses are almost touching. His brown eyes are so close you can see every detail in them despite the darkness of the room. You can feel the tension in the air, and you know what would break it...
“Will, I... I can’t—” You stumble over your words, gaze parting from his.
Your stutter is cut short by Will’s lips touching yours. A soft sound escapes him as if he’s been waiting for you to stop speaking so he can taste you. His tongue slips over your lips, exploring your mouth.
This is not the clumsy, almost animalistic lust he had for you in the past—it’s something different. Something tender, almost sweet.
Your hands fall limply onto the duvet, your heart beating faster, your breath catching in your throat as you sink deeper into the kiss. You don’t want this to end… So you pull him closer.
Seemingly annoyed by the nonstop movement, Winston jumps off the bed and retreats to his place by the lit-up fireplace. You almost giggle at that, but you’re far too busy with kissing Will’s lips raw.
Your hands find their way onto his neck next, your fingers running through his curls. With lips almost glued to his, you pull him back every time he tries to move.
The sound of your heavy breathing is enough to make his heart pound in his chest as if his very blood is racing. He’s holding you so tightly you fear you might break. Will breathes in the smell of you, almost intoxicated by it. Your scent enriches him—sends his emotions into a whirlwind.
After a moment, he manages to pull away, gasping for breath. He is still holding you, hands pressed against your back, as if not wanting to let go. Will tries to catch his breath—it feels like his entire life is contained in those few moments.
His eyes find yours, looking for some reassurance, as if he expects to wake up from a dream any moment now. He opens his mouth to say words but can’t find any. All he can do is look at you, so beautiful in the darkness. Will closes his eyes as if trying to cling to this moment.
“I’m glad I’m back. Despite the circumstances...” Your fingers play with his curls, your breath just as shaky as his.
“You’re back...” Will murmurs, looking at you relieved, touching your face as if to make sure you’re still here. He wants to speak, to tell you everything that is going through his mind, but when he opens his mouth again, no words come out. He tries to collect himself—tries to bring his heart to your level.
“It’s been a long time... We should probably talk. You know, just to catch up.”
“You like talking now?” Your grin is electrifying, it sends heat down the man’s body. But when he notices it doesn’t reach your eyes, his neediness crumbles.
A veil of insecurity falls over his face. “No… I don’t like talking. But I still do it if I have to, so can we just…” Will gestures to the two of you, the room—just a sign of exasperation and need to do this now. He swallows hard, trying to find his voice. “It’s just... it’s been a long time. And I... you know... there is just a lot that happened.”
“Will,” the way you say his name halts him, “it’s okay if you want to talk.”
He blinks slowly, suddenly confused—why did he even try to lie about it? Hannibal gave him his voice and showed him the power of his words—the good one and the evil one.
Will lets out a deep breath and then closes his eyes. It’s always been hard for him to tell people how he feels. Especially when he wants to say more than any amount of words can describe—and there is a lot to describe. There is so much he has to tell you, and yet when he tries to form the words—to get them out—his mind goes blank.
He opens his eyes and looks at you for help, but you look just as confused as before. “I don’t even know where to begin,” he says softly. “So much has changed.”
“You haven’t. Not as much as you think you did.”
He sees the impossibly black creature in his peripheral vision. It stands behind you, completely still, and its antlers seem much more massive than ever before when he catches their shadow falling onto you. He wants it to be gone so badly, but deep inside, he knows it’ll never vanish if Hannibal is still alive, and maybe even after his death, he’ll never get his peace back.
“Your opinion will change quicker than you realize.”
The creature’s still there, Will looks it straight into its void of color eyes. It’s just in his mind, yet the shiver that runs down your spine tells him you might feel its presence, too. He hates that he can’t tell if it’s his imagination or not or if you can indeed see it, too. A feeling of dread seizes him, a cold sensation that runs up his arms and into his bones.
“Hannibal...” he whispers, but when he looks around the room, he sees no sign of the creature. The sense of dread lingers, nevertheless.
“The Chesapeake Ripper?” you question, and he tells you all about it. All about Hannibal’s mind games—what he did to him and then what he undid.
Will tells you about the therapy sessions, his transformation, and the darkness that took hold of him. He talks about his memories of your sister, about his guilt, and then he moves on to you—your absence and the reason why you left. The void he felt for all those dark years without you—until he was given the chance to have you back, a light guiding him back into reality. And you listen carefully to all of it; you let him speak his heart out until he no longer feels the need to speak.
When he is done telling you everything, Will falls silent. It feels like he laid bare his soul, exposing his most intimate thoughts, yet you still lie in front of him, unchanged. He looks at you, almost expecting you to leave. After all, how much can a person handle? But your gaze is still strong; you still care about him at least a little…
It’s almost as if you’re reading his mind. “I still care about you, Will. My feelings never changed and they never will. I’ll do anything I can to help you get him.”
His eyes soften at your words, and he closes the distance between you two. Slowly he kisses your lips, tasting your breath, feeling his mouth move against yours. The sensation is so intense that it almost sends sparks through Will’s body.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispers into your ear before he turns your head and kisses you again. His hands rest on your back, pulling you in even closer as his tongue dances against yours. “And I’ve missed you. So goddamn much...”
Will pulls away, breathless, as if his entire body is aflame. He looks at you, studying your face so intently it’s almost as if he wants to burn your image into his brain. “So much,” he repeats softly.
He rests his head against yours, breathing in the sound of your heartbeat, listening to the rise and fall of your chest. “You’re here. You’re really here.” He exhales a sigh of relief as if your presence is the sweetest gift he could have ever wished for.
1K notes · View notes
thesuperiorrobin · 8 months
Text
𝐈𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥~
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Pairing: Husband!Damian Wayne x Wife!Reader
Word count: 759
Warning: suggestive at the very end
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People know you and Damian belong together, no doubt about it. With making your relationship public and years later your marriage, which was also the talking gossip around Gotham for a month or two, everyone knows. But some people are too stubborn to the fact, you learn that very early in your relationship when women would just throw themselves at your lover's arm clinging to him as he tries to pray them off with an annoying expression, thinking that the son of Bruce Wayne would have the same Playboy persona just like his father, but they’re wrong forgetting the Damian Wayne is in fact, the most loyal man when it had came down to your dating and now marriage.
He would rather be with you than any other woman on earth, and for some, it was hard to face reality. You’re grown used to it over the years. But sometimes it just grows a spark inside of you. Much like tonight, in the Wayne manor that now belongs to the two of you. After Bruce’s retirement, it’s now Damian’s job to throw those galas and charity events, much to his dismay.
Secretly you do the work because he wasn’t given the gift of organization at all. So now you stand back, watching everyone. Happy with the way the nights going as you sip on your glass of champagne, it’s different front the rest. Damian thinks you deserve better than the champagne and wine that’s given out to the others. You spot his brothers in the crowd and other familiar faces that belong to a few close friends. The last face you spot was your husband, chatting away with men from his workplace. A forced smile on his face. It makes you chuckle, as a kid he hated them, and even as an adult he still does. But it’s more tolerable, well kinda.
You spot a random woman stumbling towards the ground of men, obviously sober as she tries to act intoxicated for the hell of it. She leaps for Damian’s arm that’s on his side, ignoring the one that holds his drink. He doesn’t shake her off, instead, he lets out a fake laugh along with the others around him.
That’s new you thought.
This went on for more than ten minutes which was a surprise. Normally it would’ve taken him less than five to shake them off, but instead, he’s standing there letting it happen. Which was a surprise. They’re having conversations, sometimes other people would chime in here and there.
Damian says something you can’t hear, and the woman laughs, giggling loudly to the point where you can hear her from the other side of the room. She laughs like it was the funniest thing she’s heard all night.
The horrendous laughter dies down, and she stares. Directly at you. She stares at you with a sly grin that paints her red lips. You frown and glare, gripping your glass. Almost breaking it until one of the servants comes up to you and offers you another drink, which you gladly take without a second thought.
The glare you send is hard, most people can sense it, the chilling aura that spills from you. Damian’s quick to sense it, he’s good at it, with a quick look towards you as you stare down at his arm— he gives you a genuine grin. He shakes off the women.
“Apologies. My presence is needed elsewhere” he gives a side eye down “with my wife” The woman was not happy, pouting as he watched her target leave her sight. But she puts on a facade and leaves, probably off to find another arm to cling on.
There’s a shit-eating grin plaster on his face when he walks up to you, and all you could do is roll your eyes—taking a big sip out of your drink in your hand.
“Zawjati?” he called out “Why are you here all by yourself?”
“You just seemed a little busy with your groups of friends” you hum “I didn’t want to ruin it”
The grin on his face softens, arm stretched out towards you, and you take his warm hand without a second thought. “Don’t be jealous” he chuckles “Everyone knows I’m all yours”
“Why would I be jealous?” You scuff, he was right but you would never admit that to his face. You lean into him closer, bringing him down to your level—lips brushing up against his ear “When I’m the one that ends up taking you straight to the bedroom right after every time”
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dollfacefantasy · 2 months
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daddy kink with chris and you’re overstimulated and crying and he kisses your hair and tells you it’s okay… like, he acts like he’s helping but also doesn’t slow down at all… he started going harder once he saw you crying…
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pairing: chris redfield x fem!reader
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, overstimulation, dacryphilia
word count: 2.9k
a/n: ermmmm this is pure smut but school has me too tired to do a full fic and i wanted to make a picture so yeah hehe. thank you for this ask, it's right up my alley. i hope you like :) as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3
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Today was a bad day for Chris. Or at least it had been until he got home and found you, laying in bed without a care in the world. He tried to be normal about it at first, he really did. He nodded a hello as he walked through the bedroom and settled the dust from his day. He went through the motions, breathing deeper to try and chill out. But as he looked at you, the more the urge built within him to get rid of some of that tension, pump it all deep inside of you. He couldn’t help it. He was just so overwhelmed, and he needed his little stress reliever to help him out.
He climbs on the bed and slots himself next to you. His lips find your neck immediately. You can feel the raw need in his movements. A giggle bubbles from your lips as part of his facial hair scratches against your neck. Poor baby, clueless as to what was in store for you. Your ear meets your shoulder to give him some more room on your throat, and he doesn’t let it go to waste. Nipping at your skin, tongue laving over the small love bites he litters you with. You moan and shift slightly as the tingling from your neck drips down your spine to the pit of your belly.
“Chris…” you whimper. 
He doesn’t remove his mouth from you though. Amateur mistake. He was obviously in a mood. Your eyes flutter as his large hand squeezes your waist.
“Daddy…” you correct yourself.
A sharp breath fans across your neck as he briefly disconnects. “What is it, baby? Feeling needy too?” he asks before kissing your throat a bit more.
“Mhm,” you hum softly, sinking down on the bed more.
He chuckles against your throat, one of his hands pulling on your thigh to spread your legs. His fingers only tease your inner thigh for now. They don’t coast across the part of you that aches for him.
“So easy, precious,” he breathes before scooting down.
He positions himself between your legs and tugs your shorts down quickly. After they’re discarded, he presses his lips to the skin the pads of his fingers had just been smoothing over. His breath hitches at the soft, plush warmth of your flesh. You bite your lip and merely watch him close in. He can feel your gaze, and it only serves to make his semi-hard cock even stiffer.
Looping his arms over your thighs, he pulls you even closer. Your head squishes on a couple pillows as he buries his face between your legs against your clothed cunt. He inhales so deep that it’s audible. So is the groan he lets out after. You feel his lips against the fabric of your panties before he licks the cloth too. The pleasure was dulled by the barrier, but it still got you going seeing how needy he was.
He drags his nose against the garment to take in more of your scent before using his mouth again on your covered pussy. More arousal collected beneath as you watched him go at it. With a small impatient wriggle of your hips, you whine in anticipation.
“Just a second, honey. Wanna enjoy this,” he grumbles. 
It honestly felt like he was trying to suffocate himself between your thighs. That’s even more true once he finally yanks your panties off. He’s right back to what he was doing, smothering himself with you. Your head falls back as he laps at your folds, grunting at the taste of your slick on your tongue. He sucks on your clit while flicking his tongue against it, making your arms flail while you cry out for him.
Your heels dig into his back while you whimper and writhe. He holds you in place and devours you. You can still hear those sharp breaths coming from him, each one is calculated since he seems insistent on not coming up for air.
This wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Chris was always a pretty dedicated lover for you. He never teased too much, but usually he would mumble a few things here and there. Not now though. It seemed he was lost in a haze of lust, eating you out for his own reasons rather than your pleasure.
You’re sure of this when you reach your first high. You shriek and jerk, legs trembling and only secured by his strong arms. Gasping, your fingers claw at the blankets on the bed. Despite all this though, he doesn’t stop when you should be coming down.
“Daddy,” you whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t even verbalize that it’s too much. A string of whines leaves you instead, and your words come out jumbled. Your legs pointlessly kick as he continues licking up your cunt.
“It’s ok, dolly. Daddy just needs some more time with this pretty pussy,” he grunts, “It’s gonna feel good, ok?”
You whimper again as you nod, barely stuttering out an “ok” before he dives back in. He makes out with it, taking in all of you that he can. Flattening his tongue and dragging it over your sore clit, he sends shocks through your body. You feel like static on a broken tv, vibrating as he works you closer to the edge again.
The sheets twist and crumple underneath you from the way he has you squirming and shifting around. Your legs go taut as you crash through release for a second time. It doesn’t take as long since you were so sensitive from having just cum. You squeak this time, quieter than the last. Your limbs shudder with more intensity though, and your eyes roll back.
And he still keeps going. You move your legs more this time, to which he responds by tightening his grip. Breathy whines continuously tumble from your lips. Your mind is melting down into a puddle. You can’t find the words to protest this time, so you don’t. That’s fine with him. He continues on, chin completely coated with your slick at this point.
Your teeth dig into your bottom lip in an attempt to restrain the pathetic noises coming from you. The way he went all in, you’d think you were the best thing he ever tasted. He’s not even rocking his hips into the mattress. All his focus is on you, the way he maneuvers his mouth on you. It’s not long until you’re cumming for the third time.
He’s still not showing any signs of letting up, so you will yourself to intervene.
“Chris!” you yelp without thinking, your hips bucking in time with your plea.
“Who?” he growls without looking up.
“Daddy… I can’t,” you whine, correcting yourself for the second time tonight.
“Oh, I know you can, sweetheart,” he says before a lewd noise sounds through the room as he latches back onto your clit.
You nearly shout at the sensation, shaking your head wildly. Your voice is growing more whiny, and your head is sinking into that state where everything is soft and syrupy, like a waking world of dreams.
“Mm-mm, I- I need a break. It- mmph- it’s too much,” you whimper and squirm around harder.
He digs his fingers in, set on keeping you where you are. He actually does take a break to look up at you. His eyes connect with your own.
“Does it feel bad, princess?” he asks.
You stumble through your thoughts to try to think of how to articulate yourself. “No…” you say slowly, “It…”
During your pause, he interjects. “So it feels good, yeah?” he asks. He’s condescending for sure, just the way you like him to be.
“Well yeah. But it’s too much,” you say, lip puffing out into an automatic pout.
He chuckles and shakes his head, lowering himself to press a few tender kisses to your pulsing bundle of nerves. “Just one for me, baby. Daddy just wants to play with his favorite girl after a long day,” he says before his tongue returns to your folds.
Your head falls back again as your mind spins with the heat swirling inside you. One more. You could take one more. But if it was anymore than that, you were pretty sure you’d go numb.
You were already going a little dumb. Whiny, squirmy, no thoughts inside your head except for what was happening in the moment. Your body was moving on instinct, you didn’t have much control at this point.
He does give you the tiniest break as he fucks his tongue into you rather than attacking your clit. It’s still stoking the flames of sensitivity, but the pleasure is much more muted. But as soon as you think to be relieved about this, his mouth is all over you, and that burning sense of overstimulation is back.
Your thighs lock around his head. You would be concerned about cutting off his air flow, but it seemed like that was his goal anyways. Your shirt was clinging to your form, highlighting how your breasts heaved and puffed up and down with each gasp.
It feels like a never ending fuse, but finally, you hit that “one more” he wanted. You gush all over his face yet again. Ecstasy stabs through you. A long moan erupts from you before devolving into a collection of unintelligible mumbles.
He chuckles into you and gives a couple more licks before he actually pulls off. You had started to wonder if he ever actually would.
“Good girl,” he purrs, “Such a sweet baby, always doing what daddy asks.”
You lazily nod, dumb little smile gracing your features. He pets your head, a few soft strokes before getting up to undress himself. You’re too out of it to really pay much attention to that though.
Your little break is over just as quick as it began. He climbs on top of you again, peppering your face and neck with kisses.
“Wanna see these pretty tits bounce while I’m inside,” he murmurs as he peels your shirt off of you. He moves your limbs like a doll’s to rid you of your top. You’re limp, pliable, simply moving where he guides you.
Once you’re fully nude beneath him, he lines himself up. Swiping his tip through your soaked center, he doesn’t waste much time teasing. He slides in groaning as he sinks into your heat, savoring each inch of your wet embrace.
“She’s been missing her daddy,” he mutters, “So fuckin’ tight for me.”
You give another weak nod as a response. He starts rocking, slow at first, easing into a rhythm. You’re so tender though, it doesn’t feel as slow. You whimper with each of his movements. Every poke within you feels like another jab to your already overwhelmed center.
You call out for him, using it as a reprieve from the overwhelming sensations. His cock is heavy and thick just like every other part of him. You can feel that simply from the way it stretches you out and pulsates between your walls.
Soon enough he finds a pace he likes. It’s quick, but he’s not jack-hammering. He’s stroking you deep for sure, head of his cock kissing your cervix and prodding against all your other spots that send jolts of pleasure through your body. 
You were so shaky, trying your best to cling onto Chris for some sense of stability. Your arms loop around his neck, legs weakly attached to his hips. The air around you feels heavy as if it’s pressing you further into the mattress, aiding him in keeping you trapped beneath his large form.You can’t contain the array of sounds flowing from you. Your mind is too fucked out and hazy to worry about self-restraint.
“Good girl, baby. Keep making all those cute little noises. Let me hear how much you need it,” he mumbles into your ear between pants. Some sloppy kisses land on your temple before he seems to start working his hips even harder than before.
You’re taut like a rubber band about to snap, thrumming with the slightest touch. Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to cope with the all consuming pleasure inside you. It’s like you can barely breathe. All you have right now is Chris. Nothing else is registering.
You’re babbling, trying to show some of how you’re feeling, but it’s all unintelligible. He can really only make out “daddy” and a few “I love yous.” Everything else is as muddled as the thoughts in your head.
He does understand when you choke out “daddy need to cum.” And like the good guy he is, he indulges you. He speed up more, slamming his hips against you with brutal force. The headboard is beating against the wall, and your body rocks in time from the momentum.
Continuing to kiss and suck on your throat, he chuckles. “Already came… what? Four times? And you still want more. You’re getting so spoiled, princess,” he teases.
You can’t really think of a defense in this state. Instead, you weakly shake your head and whimper “‘m not spoiled.”
He laughs louder and thrusts harder. “I’ll have to be careful with you. Can’t have you turning into a total brat on me,” he says.
Before you can protest this slander, he thrusts extra hard and knocks you over the edge. You practically scream. Your body locks up, and you convulse involuntarily. Tears build up in your eyes. When you open them, they’re glossy. Droplets already threaten to spill over the waterline.
He’s still slamming his cock in and out. You’re stretched thin. You feel like you’re gonna pass out at this point. The euphoria must be constricting your lungs or something. You start crying. Not just little teardrops rolling down your cheeks. No. Actual cries begin bursting from you, and it isn’t long before they morph into sobs. Tears do flow, your eyes and cheeks feel perpetually wet. A single blink unleashes more every time.
And once he hears that first cry, all teasing is gone from Chris’s demeanor. Though, it’s not replaced by concern. Sure, he feels a twinge of sympathy scratching at his heart, but it’s not the dominant emotion running through him.
Your crying just… does something to him. Something primal he can’t control. Something primitive he forgets exists until he has you beneath him like this. Those round cheeks streaked with tears, face twisted up in desperation, glossy eyes looking at him with complete reverence. It takes everything not to blow his load right when he sees it. It’s above him the way his hips instinctively go harder. He was basically jack-hammering now like his intention was to ruin you.
But you’re still his baby. He kisses your cheek, tasting the faintest hint of salt as your tears meet his lips. His hand that’s not supporting him, strokes your neck.
“It’s ok, baby bear. Daddy’s right here,” he coos as if he isn’t the one bringing you to tears.
You gasp and whimper. The words “I know” barely make it from your lips, but they reach his ears. His own body is getting stiff as his release bubbles up within him. He grits his teeth and keeps thrusting, grunting at how tight you’re clamped around him, walls massaging his shaft with each stroke.
“So pretty when you cry, sweet girl. Such a sensitive baby,” he whispers into your hair, “My baby bear. Just a little more.”
You’re just hanging on, nodding along to what he says as your tears flow. You’re not chasing release. Even though you feel like you’re locked into a high right now, you don’t feel like you could cum again. You think you’d rupture something if you did.
Chris, on the other hand, knows it’s right around the corner. His jaw clenches as his eyes droop. His hand tightens into a fist in your hair, tugging a little on the locks. His breathing becomes harsher, his body is coated with sweat as he keeps working to that peak.
“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. You’ve been so good. I’m so proud of you,” he coos between kisses to your head.
Again, your head bobs in a weak nod. You’re limp on the bed when his body locks up and he buries himself as deep inside your cunt as he can go. He moans with his release. You can feel the muscles in his arms and chest flexing as the pleasure washes over him. He exhales deeply before collapsing on top of you. He’s smothering you, and normally, you’d complain, but you’re not really in the mood right now.
Your bodies are molded together. You can’t even really tell where he ends and you begin. You’re both catching your breaths. For you, you’re regaining awareness of everything that isn’t the man on top of you.
You just lay like that for a while until finally, he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re not left alone though because he pulls you into his lap, cradling you against his chest like a plush toy. He’s looking down at you with all the love in the world. His thumb swipes across your cheeks to wipe away all the remaining tears.
“You ok?” he whispers and kisses your face a few times.
“Mhm,” you hum, sinking further into his embrace.
“Good,” he says while beginning to rub your back, “I couldn’t ask for anything more.”
He knows this is what you need right now. In a few minutes, he’ll get you up, put you in the bath, make you a drink. But right now, he knows you just want him to hold you like the precious thing you are.
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