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#don't be the reason I have to lock reblogs
unbidden-yidden · 4 months
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I know this is asking people to like, have basic empathy and therefore asking way too much, but I'd just really love if before you [general] comment anything on the current Israel/Palestine situation, you considered how you would react if the roles were reversed.
If, for example, Israeli extremists raped and butchered their way through Gaza (or the West Bank) killing 1200 Palestinian men, women, and children who had been peacefully hanging out observing a religious holiday or sleeping, and especially if they had caught the whole damn thing on film and broadcasted it and celebrated it as if this was some huge win for Jews instead of the biggest chillul Hashem possible - just think about how people would have reacted. And what if they hadn't? What if the entire Western left, up to and including the United fucking Nations had denied the sexual violence and torture? Y'all would be pretty rightfully livid, no?
And let's be honest about how the global Jewish community would react if 23,000 Jews were killed for literally any reason whatsoever. Even if they were all adult male soldiers in active combat, never mind if they were non-combatants or children? We'd shit bricks. It would not feel neutral or not targeted, no matter how objectively true that might be. As it is, every Jew I know is one degree or less of separation from someone directly affected by the October 7th attacks and that's a with a maximum of 1500 casualties and hostages involved. Can you imagine if it were 23,000? We would all be sitting shiva, with no one to answer amen during Kaddish. The reality is that killing a large amount of people from a small minority that has been persecuted throughout its history cannot be a neutral act.
Anyway please I'm begging people to reverse the roles for four seconds to re-humanize the people on the "other" side. Because the truth is that there is no "other side" - there's just the everyday people who want to live in safety, dignity, freedom and justice with their families and friends. And then there's the small minority of very powerful groups and individuals who actively benefit from the conflict continuing. And the faster that those of us who aren't Israeli or Palestinian realize this, the sooner we will be able to effectively support the people on the ground seeking lasting solutions that benefit the majority of the population.
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absolute-eyesore · 1 year
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Recent commission for @sickened-things for its personal use. Lots of fun to work on, especially the icon image. <3
-Hollow
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musashi · 8 months
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if i still hung around the whump community i'd make long, beautiful, prose-filled prompts every single day and use she/her pronouns all the way through just to piss the misogynists off
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elytrafemme · 2 years
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see the weird thing is that i’m literally the happiest i’ve been in my entire life, right? like ever since i’ve turned 16 i’ve lived a momentously better life; i have a lot of self confidence, i have a reliable friend group that cares about me, other close friends in general that i can communicate well with, a girlfriend that i’m really compatible with, a good family structure, a better grip on my toxic habits, etc. like i’m just genuinely such a happy person by default, and part of that is because i’m not actively undergoing any trauma anymore.
so now i’m confused. because despite literally all of that, for the first time in a year, i have been having the same breakdowns, feelings, and responses to everything that i had when i was actively in a traumatic situation. but nothing is happening. i don’t have any new memories that i didn’t already have for years. so what the hell is going on.
#nightmare.personal#don't reblog#posting here because i'm sure there's a positive spin to be taken from this#like just another reminder to throw out in the void that recovery isn't linear and to be gentle on yourself#a reminder that other people might need and i probably need to#but this is also. i mean this is incredibly vulnerable but i do say it because it's such a strange experience#the only reason i'm noticing this is because the biggest way i used to handle things when i was 13-15 was with anger#and for a while i still dealt with being hot-headed but that's just like part of my personality less than a disordered thing#but now it's returning back to like uncontrolled rage and distrust#which is... really weird.#and despite what you'd think the nightmares aren't clarifying much. half of them are stupid extrapolations of my media of choice#some of them are recollections but then again i literally already had access to that#the memories i don't have are being locked away that's very clear to me but considering i can like guess what they are#it's not really like those are somehow seeping in to bother me?#this is just odd because yes obviously i still am mentally ill but this past year what i've experienced felt mostly like-#-building off of the way i've behaved my entire life#these are very specific behaviors that i had mostly in very late 2020 to mid 2021#it's just. very very odd. and i don't know what's causing it.#i want to blame the entities in my head just for the sake of having something to pin it on but i don't think they have the ability to-#-control my emotions like that. huh.#okay sorry for this being like a lot tm but i wanted to get it out there
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navybrat817 · 1 month
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Eva, this is an attack!
Sweet as Candy
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you're the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. Word Count: Over 500 Warnings: Established relationship, fingering, implied explicit sexual content, being in love, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wanted to do something more, but the muse refused and we don't push. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky was quiet throughout dinner, which wasn’t unusual. Most nights he was content to listen to you and all of your friends talk about your day or trade stories about parts of missions that you could discuss. Even when Steve, Sam, or anyone else spoke, his piercing blue eyes stayed glued to you. As if your reactions were more important than the words everyone else spoke.
But tonight, the menace had his eyes on you for a completely different reason.
“Buck, you aren’t eating much,” Steve noted as he helped himself to another plate.
“I’m in the mood for something a little sweeter,” he replied.
Your boyfriend didn’t look toward his best friend when he brought his hand to his lips and softly smiled. Sitting across from him you tried to close your legs, but he had his foot between them the moment you sat down. The unsubtle bastard inhaled, smelling your arousal that lingered on his fingers and it took every ounce of strength to not whimper when his tongue darted out to lick along them.
All because he couldn’t keep his hands off you not even a half hour ago.
“Need to be inside you,” he rasped, nipping your earlobe as he reached between your legs. “You need it, too.”
“Bucky, we’re late,” you moaned, making no move to stop him as you pushed your hips back against him, rubbing the growing bulge as his hand moved along your folds. Wet, as always. Once upon, you were a woman who never needed or craved anyone. He changed that.
But since he ruined you, it was only fair that you ruined him in return.
“You love having my attention. If you didn’t like it, you wouldn’t have worn this skirt,” he said, ignoring your words as he unbuckled his pants. “And if you didn’t want me to fuck you, you would’ve worn panties.”
A shiver rolled up your spine when his other hand grasped your chin and forced your head toward his. Your head spun when he pushed his tongue past your lips, two fingers slipping inside you where they belong. If your kisses were like wine, his were like whiskey. You got drunk on each other.
“Look at me,” he ordered when he broke the kiss, a whine slipping out when he removed his fingers. He raised his hand up, your heart pounding as he licked the first finger clean. His eyes stayed locked with yours when he licked the next, groaning sinfully. “Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”
It was almost a warning before he stuffed you full of his cock.
“And the sweetest fucking sound you make is saying my name when I make you come.”
Bucky clearing his throat brought you back to yourself, the earlier memory fading to the back of your mind as his smile widened. One look from him and it disarmed you. Left you breathless. Ignited a fire within you. Filled your heart.
“Love you,” he mouthed, giving his fingers another lick.
You clenched around nothing and smiled. “Love you, too.”
And maybe, just maybe, you’d give him a bit of candy for dessert.
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Bucky is a menace and we love him for that. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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stargirllanaa · 3 months
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୨⎯ "Bad Liar" - R.C
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❥ Masterlist
Warnings: NONCON smut, Dark!Rafe, Toxic relationship, abusive relationship, Domestic violence, mentions of drinking, rafes pretty bad as usual
Summary: You snuck out to hang with the pogue’s… bad idea. Idea is from a comment on this post.
A/n ✎: OMG thank you for 200 followers!! I started writing Rafe like 3 weeks ago but the overwhelming support has been so motivating <333 love you all sm! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed!!! Btw my request are open again, don’t be shy ;)
Wc: 2.1k
18+ MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!
You quietly entered your house, locking the door behind you. It was 2 am, and you had just driven home from the other side of the island because you had to sneak around to hang out with your friends. Your boyfriend Rafe didn't like your choice of friends, often calling them ‘dirty pogues’ and claiming that they were all ‘trying to turn you against him,’ and that pissed you off.
Just because Rafe had a problem with Pogues didn't mean you had to, and frankly, his reasoning for hating them so much was stupid; because of his issue with them, you were frequently isolated. Still, you wouldn't let Rafe stop you from having a social life outside of him, so you would sometimes sneak out late at night, go to the cut, visit your friends, and return home like nothing had happened.
You did feel guilty about going behind Rafe's back, but what could you do? You weren't going to cut all your friends off because Rafe told you to. It wasn't like you were cheating.
You made sure to cover all of your tracks. Knowing Rafe had your location, you left your phone at home every time you snuck out. You always left at night so you could text Rafe ‘goodnight,’ and he wouldn't suspect anything from you not responding, and you would always make it back in three hours at the most just to be careful. You knew if Rafe found out about you sneaking around, he would be furious; you had been disobeying his wishes for months and lying to his face.
As you crept up your stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible, you couldn't help but smile; even though you hated to admit it, you and Rafe never had fun. I mean, you two had ‘fun’ in his way, like going golfing, parties, ‘Rafe stuff,’ but you two would never do anything you wanted to do, and with The Pogues, it was the opposite; you got to get messy, get drunk on the beach even do girly things like braid Sarah's hair or have Kie paint your nails, things that you could never do with rafe. It was a relief to do something you enjoyed.
You opened the door to your bedroom, which was pitch black; you had turned all your lights out before you left; you felt around on the wall for the light switch, flipping it upwards. The lights momentarily blinded you, but you jumped when you saw the manlike figure on your bed. When your eyes finally focused, it was worse than what you expected.
Rafe was sitting on your bed, staring directly at you; his face was unreadable and emotionless, which was terrifying. Your boyfriend was usually expressive, the type to lash out when angry; you had never seen him this calm, and you certainly didn't expect him to be calm after catching you going behind his back.
You stood frozen in the doorway, unable to tear your gaze away from him or move. This didn't feel real.
“Where were you?” Rafe asked, breaking the silence; his voice was monotone, empty of emotion as he sat on your bed, just looking at you.
Your throat felt dry, and your tongue heavy with unsaid words. You struggled to find your voice and form a coherent response, and the utter shock and fear rendered you speechless.
“I don't want to repeat myself,” Rafe mumbled under his breath; he was allowing you to come clean and save yourself from whatever he had planned if he caught you in a lie.
“I was…” you blinked a couple of tears back, thinking of what to say. “I went to the gas station… to get some.” you looked up and then back at him, fidgeting with your hands. “snacks.” you lied, voice cracking from nerves.
Rafe smirked, slighting, breaking his calm facade. Did this amuse him?
“Right.” Rafe nodded, looking at his lap as if he was thinking about what you just said. “So you went to the gas station, right?” he asked, awaiting a response.
You nodded, but you couldn't stop the tears from glazing your eyes and your whole body from trembling.
“And you left your phone at home?” Rafe questioned you, head tilting slightly and his eyes narrowing.
You completely forgot that since Rafe was waiting for you in your room and most likely saw your phone on your nightstand. Your lies were falling apart before your eyes.
“I forgot-” You mumbled quietly, still standing in your doorway. You hoped you weren't loud enough to wake anyone in your house, but you were too scared to get closer to Rafe.
“Y/n,” Rafe muttered, pushing himself off the bed, now standing in front of it. “I'm done with the lies. Alright?” the blonde sighs, now talking with his hands. “I've been here for,” he looks down at his expensive watch, taking in the time. “2 hours,” Rafe admits, fist clenching to his side.
Your face fell when he said that, he had caught you; he had to know; there was no excuse or lie you could think of to justify why you were at the gas station for 2 hours in the middle of the night. Your heart started to beat faster, and your tears finally spilled over; you weren't just scared, you were terrified; you didn't want to admit to hanging out with the Pogues, but what else could you do? You had tried lying and failed, making the situation worse, and Rafe probably already expected the worst. I mean, you were sneaking out in the middle of the night. That would look like cheating to anyone.
“And I don't see any snacks either.” Rafe sighs as he combs his finger through his hair.
He was right; you didn't even think of that; you were a horrible liar.
“So I'm going to ask you one more time.” Rafe’s posture was stiff, and his hands were shaky, “where. Were. you.” his tone was sharp, and his breathing was speeding up as he waited for your response.
“I was at the chateau…ok?!” You blurted out loudly, quickly covering your mouth after realizing your door was still open. “John B’s place, it was me, Sarah.” his eyes rolled when you mentioned his sister, “Kiara, Pope, JJ.” You were now half whispering and hyperventilating simultaneously; your tears were prevalent as you told your boyfriend everything. There was no point in lying anymore, he had caught you, and he was pissed.
“We were just hanging out, and I'm sorry; I know I should have-” You were just saying anything that came to mind, trying to improve this situation, word vomit.
“Come here.” Your boyfriend mumbled, cutting you off; his voice was low and shaky.
You shook your head. ‘No,’ you didn't want to be anywhere near him right now; you had just admitted to lying to him multiple times and didn't want to face the consequences.
“Ok,” he shakes his head before running his hand through his hair again and saying something under his breath that you didn't quite catch.
Before you knew it, he was charging at you. You tried to run out the doorway, but as soon as you turned, one of his arms was wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his stiff chest, and with the other, he used his hand to cover your mouth in one swift motion before using his foot to shut your door.
“You were lying to me.” he hissed into your ear, pushing you against your wall, back facing him. “Calculating plans behind my back.” he used the hand that was around your waist to grab a chuck of your hair, forcing your head to snap to the side. “To hang out with dirty Pogues.” he was now gripping your hair so tight you felt it might come out of your head. “And probably sleep with them behind my back.” His voice didn't raise once as he automatically assumed the worst.
You couldn't deny his claims; his hand was over your mouth tight, your parents were right upstairs, and he knew that.
“How many times? Huh?” Rafe questioned you, pulling your hair back just enough to make eye contact, and when you looked into his eyes, they didn't look normal; they were dark. “How many times did you fuck those disgusting Pogues while you pretend to be asleep?” he was dead serious.
He slowly moved his hand from over your mouth, waiting for you to respond, but when you let out a loud cry instead, he quickly covered it again before slamming your head against the wall, which was also noisier than he expected.
In Rafe's mind, he couldn't accept the fact that you and another guy could just be friends, especially not you and a Pogue; in Rafe's mind, you 100% cheated on him, and there was no convincing him otherwise. He was disgusted; who knows where those pogues had been or who they had been in? They were filthy and grimy; who knows what you could have given him.
“You're disgusting.” Rafe whispers in your ear before flipping your body around to face him, stuck between him and the walls.
“I can't believe I trusted you.” His hand was now grabbing at your hair again, gripping the top of your scalp and using it as leverage to push you down on your knees in front of him.
You fought back, trying to stand straight, but Rafe quickly overpowered you. And before you knew it, you were kneeling before him like he wanted.
“I'm going to let go of you, and if you make any noise…” he paused momentarily, looking deeply into your eyes. “I'll kick your fucking teeth in.” he threatened, voice still shaking. “Understand?”
You nodded to the best of your ability with his tight grip on your hair and face.
When he let go, you tried your best to stay quiet, letting out little cries and whimpers, but not enough for him to fulfill his threat. The tears hadn't stopped since he'd caught you, and you were so fucking exhausted from all the fun you had earlier and now the pain, accusations, and tears. But when you looked up to see Rafe unbuttoning his pants, you couldn't keep quiet.
“No-” You protested quietly, as you started to hyperventilate, tears now fully clouding your vision. “Rafe-” You couldn't even catch your breath. You were panicking.
“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe demanded quietly, but his tone was still harsh as he pulled down his pants.
“I can't breathe-” You were cut off by Rafe pushing your head, causing it to slam against the wall; you immediately rubbed the back of your head to soothe the pain as you cried harder.
Rafe was getting more annoyed with you by the second, jaw ticking every time he looked at you. He grabbed your chin roughly, pulling your face closer to his crotch.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” Rafe sneered as he used his other hand to pull his boxers down and begin stroking his cock right in front of your face.
You couldn't stop crying. You couldn't believe this was happening; just an hour ago, you were out with your friends, having fun, not even worried about your boyfriend. You had gotten away with sneaking out so many times already; how could you have known today would be any different?
“Open your mouth,” Rafe demanded as he held his cock right in front of your lips.
You tried to turn your head to the side, but Rafe wasn't having it. His grip on your chin got tighter and tighter until you tried to cry out in pain, but as soon as you opened your mouth, he got what he wanted.
His hand holding your chin was back on your hair as he guided your head up and down at a quick, harsh pace. Sounds of gags and rafes and low moans filled the room. It was music to his ears but traumatizing for you.
“Fuck y/n.” Rafe moaned out, “I'm gonna miss this.”
You were a little confused, but if you were being honest, you were barely listening to Rafe anyway, too emotionally broken to pay attention to whatever he was saying.
“Can't be with a bitch who would fuck a pogue,” Rafe grunted out.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Enjoyed my fic? Leave feedback! Comment/reblog!
Wanna see more? Check out my fic Sweet little lies.
Also tagging @necroflame (bc I lied about the post time to many times 😭) and @fabienne6656 for the idea!!! Thx bye..
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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I've noticed you've been reblogging delicious dungeon! Thoughts? Comments? I'd love to hear your rambles!
Personally, I enjoy Laioss and consider him a bit of a freak /p. If we're being down bad, I can imagine him just completely enjoying oral sex.
Love Delicious in Dungeon! I read the manga though so I can say things are about to go down with the Red Dragon. But don't worry the show always stays fun despite the crazy shit happening.
And yes Laios would 100% enjoy oral, but also cum eating I think. I gotta write that now.
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Laios is never too busy with his mouth to comment on the taste of your cum. You thought it odd when you first began dating but now it's kind of endearing.
At first you were scared that he's commenting because you tasted bad. Only to find out that the blonde himbo was addicted to your taste. You are the reason he looks forward to exiting the dungeon.
" Tasting sweet lately. You been eating fruit huh?" He grins from between your legs, his chin and mouth dripping with cum. "Pineapple?" He asked like he was tasting a dish, not eating your pussy. "Or maybe-"
"I didn't do it for you! I just felt like eating some. So don't let it go to your head. Laios!" He still had a big smirk on his face as he bent back down and pushed his tongue in your pussy, intent on drinking every last drop of your cum and leaving nothing behind.
"Thank you for the treat. But you know I always liked your pussy. My favorite thing to eat outside of a dungeon. Or in it really, but that's a bit more difficult." There have been attempts. Not Laios eating you out but taking night watch and letting his big hands wonder, getting to dip a little and then sucking them clean.
Your legs hooked and locked over his shoulders to silence any smart remark he still may have.
His hands cupped your ass like he was holding a bowl, and he used them to tilt your pussy closer to him, his tongue poking, licking, lips kissing and sucking around your clit to get more of your sweet pussy juice on his tongue and mouth.
Though your vision grew fuzzy you could see him grinding his hips, grunting against your clit and thighs, no doubt leaving cum against the pillow under him. Lucky pillow.
But Laios liked, no loved this, so you'll allow him to eat you out, to taste for as long as his heart desires."You better eat your cum out of me later."
Your threat made him moan, which in turn made your eyes roll back from the pressure around your clit. "Gladly." He promised before he got back to his favorite meal.
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Dividers made by: @cafekitsune
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hispg · 4 months
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Love
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Pairings: Fuckboy! Leon X Fem! Reader
Summary: Maybe he loves everything about you, or maybe he hates you. Yet he always looks for you when he needs you.
That must mean something, right?
Wc:2.6k
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, masturbation( m receiving), reverse cowgirl, smoking during sex, mentions of weed and alcohol, slightly praise/degradation, toxic relationship, light angst, finger riding.
An: I should have posted this a few days ago, but recently I've been feeling quite insecure about my writing.Even so, I decided to post it.
Also as a thank you to the 600 followers! Seriously! Last month I had 200, and now I've basically tripled that!I feel very grateful and happy that each and every one of you takes the time to read what I write! Leaving a comment or reblogging, the likes also motivate me a lot! That's very special to me.
If all goes well, tomorrow I'll post 2 pieces of smut, one related to Leon being your childhood friend (more cute and awkward? Idk), and the other will be with breeding kink (🤨). It'll be kind of a thank you to the 600 followers.
Thanks again! 💖💖💕
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He loves the way your body lies on the floor, he loves the way you breathe. The breathless smile you give him every time you've just had sex.
Or even the way you let yourself be so exposed to him, lying completely naked, without a shred of shame.
He may love all this about you, but he doesn't love you. If that makes any sense.
Maybe he's too fucked up to be thinking like that, or maybe he's blaming it on the weed. Even if he was quite lucid.
He already knew he'd be leaving soon, it was always like that. Sex without commitment, just for fun. He insisted on muttering these phrases to himself every time he was with you.
You made him feel so alive that he even forgot that it wasn't supposed to mean anything, it was just another fling.
If it was just one more, why did he keep coming back to you? Why was it that every time he wanted to talk late at night he called you, at the very least it had to mean something. Or maybe it was just a coincidence of fate?
He can't say, to be quite honest. He was probably just thinking too much, maybe he just liked you for the affection you gave him, which frankly he adored.
Maybe he'd fallen under that spell.
"Are you leaving?" You ask in a whisper, offering the same sweet smile as always.
"Soon, doll." He says in a whisper, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.
It seems you've managed to take his mind off his own thoughts, and now he's looking you up and down with a thoughtful expression.
After a few seconds he responds with a nod, taking a cigarette from his pack and lighting it.
Gestures like that weren't common from him, but it was different with you. And frankly, it made your heart flutter every time.
You knew you shouldn't feel anything for him, you always did. But who says the heart obeys reason?
"Can't you sleep here?" You asked in a purr, laying your head on his lap and lightly kissing his thighs.
He sighed, taking a long drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke away from your face.
"You know I won't." The answer was always the same, he didn't even try to disguise it every time you asked.
It wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he didn't want to. And he wouldn't give in so easily.
Nobody said you couldn't make him have a reason to stay, or that you couldn't induce him to say yes for once.
"Don't look at me like that." He mutters, giving you a weak sideways smile.
He knew that look, he knew all the tricks you played on him. And hell if he said he didn't like every one of the things that you do for him.
You still didn't stop, kissing and kneading his inner thighs, watching him as you did it. Letting him stare into your gentle eyes as you tried to persuade him with your antics.
"You're so fucking dirty…" He says under his breath, taking another drag on his cigarette.
He didn't stop looking at you for a second, his hand coming up to stroke your hair, making it clear that you wanted him to continue, and that you had his permission to do whatever you wanted.
He didn't care, in any case if you questioned him about his softer attitudes, he would just say it was the effect of the weed.
Even if it was just a lie to disguise his pride.
Even if you didn't notice, but his expression was always so gentle with you, even if it wasn't such a lived change, but it was there.
And he couldn't hide it any longer from the moment you nibbled and licked his thighs, making him shudder at the sensation that began to arise in his body. The goosebumps that appeared in his every pore.
"I wanted you to stay…" You say softly, as if it were something just for you.
He even pretended not to hear, but there was no way he couldn't have heard. Your sweet voice echoing so close to him. A plea that perhaps if you asked for more, so slyly, there was a good chance he would give in.
It wasn't long before you were kissing all over his chest, letting your hand rest on his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze and stroking it with your thumb. You already knew how sensitive he was to certain touches, and you always took advantage of that.
"Doll, you're going to kill me like this…" He murmured, looking at you with another one of his gallant smiles, the one that made you weak in the knees.
"I want to make you happy…" You whispered slyly, running your hands down to his bare midriff.
Your lips found his neck, licking and nibbling, making a point of letting him feel your teeth on his skin.
He couldn't help himself, letting out a soft moan as you had your way with him, it was strangely satisfying that you knew exactly what to do when it came to touching him.
"You do, babydoll, you do." He says softly, reaching down to give your ass a gentle squeeze, as well as a playful slap on your exposed flesh.
You then giggle at him, taking the opportunity to grip the erect base of his cock, giving him wet kisses on his shoulders. You even dared to kiss his nipple piercings, letting your tongue hover on the cold metal, feeling the icy surface on your hot muscle, making you smile against his skin.
Just watching the way he sighed and squirmed against your lips, you could feel your pussy starting to get wet, clit throbbing at the thought of having him with you once again.
His reddened tip was already leaking pre-cum, the liquid sticking to him and your fingers, helping with the impurity of those wet noises.
As soon as you started moving your hand up and down, his grip on your ass became stronger, making you gasp slightly at the act.
You continued with the movements, the wet sounds mixed with low moans and grunts filling your ears.
"You have good hands, don't you?" He said with a smile, sliding his hand down your ass again.
His other hand still held tightly to his cigarette, taking deep puffs, his eyes never leaving yours.
You could feel his body squirming with your touches, his hips moving against your hand for any other kind of friction you could give.
"I bet you're soaking wet, aren't you?" He asks in a cocky way, giving you his usual smug smile.
He knew how turned on you got just by pleasuring him, by having his throbbing cock in your fingers, or even the permission he gave you so that you could pleasure him in any way you wanted.
And then just to make sure he knew what he was talking about, his fingers slid down to the wet surface of your pussy, his fingers playing with your slick, making you moan against his skin.
"Tight little hole wanting attention, isn't it?" He taunts, putting his fingers so deep inside you.
The next thing he saw was you sticking out your tongue, licking the trail of precome dripping from his puffy red tip. The act made him curve his fingers inside you, moving in and out without much effort.
"You're so tasty…" You murmured softly, giving his tip a kiss.
This caused him to smile a little, rubbing his thumb against your clit in a circular motion.
"I want to see you ride, go on, sit down." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
You felt it when he withdrew his fingers from you, resting his hand on the cold floor, just waiting for you to do what he wanted.
And obviously you weren't going to say no.
And you obeyed like a good girl, sitting on his hand as you felt his fingers sinking into you.
"Ah- Shit…" You murmured, feeling your thighs twitch a little as you moved up and down.
He knew your weak points so well that it made you angry, he knew how to make you shudder with just his fingers.
"Such a beautiful little thing, fucking perfect." He grunted, playing with one of your nipples. Rolling and sliding between his fingers, squeezing and pinching.
All this so he could see you moaning and rolling your eyes as you rode his fingers.
You were so beautiful, the way you let yourself be so exposed to him, the way you trusted him with your eyes closed. That should be worrying, but he found it so exciting.
Your breasts jiggling as you moved up and down on his fingers, making a mess of his hand, which by the way was already honeyed with your juices.
"Hmh-, so good," You moaned, leaning on the floor for support as Leon watched your every move.
You moaned and whimpered his name, biting your lip as you stared at his erect member. God, he knew you were dying for him to make you deep-throat him, and don't get him wrong, he wanted it just as much as you did.
Just the thought of his cock buried in your tight throat was more than enough to make his cock throb and twitch, he could feel his blood pulsing to his lower body.
But now, now he wanted you. He wanted to watch as you rode him, as you moaned and begged him to curl his fingers and reach your sweet spots with every movement.
He didn't waste much time and pulled you close to him, sliding his free hand to the back of your neck, pulling you into a hot kiss.
His mouth meeting yours, the way you kissed him so eagerly and sloppily was enough to make him moan and grunt against your lips, his fingers moving in sync with your bouncing.
Your spongy, wet walls pulled him in, accommodating his fingers, you were so wet that he had no trouble sliding in and out of you.
He could do this all day, watch you moaning and whimpering his name, pulling your lips together to try and suppress the dirty noises coming out of you.
And it didn't work at all.
His smile only widened when he heard you whimpering loudly, biting your lip as you rolled your eyes, your orgasm washing over you as you drowned in that pleasure.
"Good girl. Good girl." He whispers, watching as you cream in his fists, your sweet furrow dripping through his fingers.
"Fuck…Oh…" You murmur, stopping your movements, but he hasn't stopped fisting you for a minute.
His skillful fingers caressing your spongy walls, making you look at him slyly.
"Leon… It's too much…" You cry out, pouting at him.
All he does is look at you with amusement in his eyes, leaning down to kiss your nipple, giving your sensitive part a gentle nibble.
"I hope you still have enough breath to give me a good ride." He says with a provocative and seductive tone, smiling cheekily at you.
And well, how can you deny him that? How can you say no when he looks at you like that?
You were incapable of denying such a good proposition.
"Yes… You know I will…" You say slyly, watching as he takes his fingers out of you.
He soon adjusted himself on the floor, spreading his legs and leaving room for you to sit on top of him.
Without any shame, he fisted his own cock, looking at you and biting his lip. His veins pulsed in his cock, which by then was begging for some attention.
The sight was enough to make your cunt throb, your body burning and aching, clamoring for him. And it wouldn't take you long to do what he wanted.
And once again he watched, saw you sit on his lap, your back turned to him as you gave him a view of your plump ass, making him salivate at the sight.
With one hand he held the cigarette, and with the other he instinctively placed it on your hips, kneading the soft skin. He watched as your tight pussy swallowed him, slowly, centimeter by centimeter. Sinking into his lap until he had it all at once.
He watched his cock disappear into your wet folds, and felt when your warmth enveloped him in such a sweet way.
"Fuck, you take me so well doll." Leon grunted, pressing his fingers into the softness of your hips.
"Hm - I'm so full…" You moaned, holding onto his knees as you began to grind slowly.
He smiled sideways, taking one last drag on his cigarette before throwing it on the floor, turning his full attention to you.
The next thing you felt was a warm slap on your ass cheeks, making you swallow and let out a whimper, understanding that he was asking you to increase the pace.
"Good girl." He purred, holding both your cheeks as he just sat there and felt you bounce on his cock.
The view was almost divine, your ass completely on display. He was lost in it, so lost that he could only focus on your moans, on the way you swallowed him completely, his cock appearing and disappearing with every bounce you made.
And there he went, losing all sense and just following the primal instinct to just fuck you, as if it were the last time. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust.
"Leon- mhmm-," You even try to babble, but nothing but incoherent phrases come out of your lips.
Your pussy was so full, so stuffed, that you couldn't even breathe. You'd forgotten how deep he could get into you, how well he could fuck you if he wanted to.
His grunts mixed with your moans filled the room, nothing more than your voices amid the dirty sound of bodies slamming against each other, clashing violently.
If Leon was being honest, he never controlled himself with you, was never able to hold back when it came to you.
His cock twitching as he felt you tighten around him, he grunted so loudly in frustration, he almost couldn't hold back his load.
"I'm going to come inside, you hear?" He says, he wasn't really asking, just warning you what he was going to do.
"Please," You manage to let out a sly little cry, feeling him slap your ass, another one of his requests.
He wanted you to go faster, and you could never deny him that.
Your hips rolling up and down, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you called his name, you even felt that sensation in the pit of your stomach.
Your bodies covered in sweat, heavy breaths coming out in gasps, neither of you could even speak a single word.
You couldn't hold it in any longer, your orgasm flooded you once again, your fluids gushing out, your walls squeezing his length.
And that was the last straw for him, with a loud grunt and a swear word you couldn't identify, he came, thick ropes of cum painting your walls.
Leon just gave you a playful smack on the ass, appreciating you for what you had given him.He knew it had been stupid to cum inside, but he couldn't help himself.
Now all that was left was to wait, he was just waiting until you fell asleep, while you swore that this time it would be different, or that this time he would have some kind of feeling.
But you were dead wrong.
And then he would leave again, break you into a thousand pieces without even looking back.
But then, he would come into your arms, to glue each broken piece together, only to break it again later.
After all, isn't that what love is all about?
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arminsumi · 7 months
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Breakfast fluff
G. Satoru — さとる
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NOTE : pls ignore errors i have neither slept nor proofread this 👍 i'm just craving breakfast so bad rn which is funny considering i hate cooking breakfast lol
SUMMARY — waking up to Gojo making breakfast and fussing over the kids on a typical Sunday
CONTENT — domestic fluff, just a wholesome morning with hubby Gojo
🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)
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It's a very early morning. The sunlight through the sheer curtains is soft. You take your time getting out of bed, soaking up the enjoyable softness of the blankets and pillows. Though you're quick to miss the warmth that you usually wake up to. Blinking awake and going into the bathroom, Satoru hears the soft thumping of your footsteps down the hallway and smiles to himself.
Satoru's not usually an early riser, in fact he usually stays in bed with you and locks an arm around your waist when you try to leave. But it's a Sunday morning, and Sunday mornings were special. Because it became a tradition to go down to the bustling market, clutching the week's savings in his hand, and buy thick bacon and eggs. The freshest kind.
You and Satoru were living in a bare bones apartment with sparse money, as two young "parents" with three tots under your wings. Somehow, you two made it work, even though there were struggles you smiled through them and never strayed from each other's sides. He'd often work the night shift, and come home at ungodly hours so tired that he melted into your body like a sick child, aching for your affectionate touch.
While you lazily carry out your morning routine in the other room, the kids crowd around Satoru as he stands in the kitchen — trying desperately to balance the chaos of entertaining Yuji, Nobara and Megumi while simultaneously cooking up breakfast.
And he cooks breakfast with such meticulousness. He considers it an art form. There's a remarkable swiftness in the way that he wields a kitchen knife to cut the bacon block into strips, and a talent in the way he cracks open eggs with one hand.
" Nobara, Yuji, what are you yelling about ? "
A little voice whined, " Nobara bit me ! "
" Nobara, don't bite Yuji. " Satoru lectured softly, eyes focused on the food cooking in the pan.
" I only did it because he tried to take your sweeties out of the pantry, dad ! " she reasoned.
" Don't eat my sweeties Yuji, you can have some later today — smell this ? Daddy's cooking up yummy breakfast so don't spoil your appetite, okay. You're gonna love it. "
The bacon and eggs crackle and pop in the oiled pan, sometimes so loudly that it makes Megumi jump in fright.
" Gumi, don't stand too close to the skillet. " Satoru warns, placing a hand on his head of messy bed hair and ruffling it, causing it to look even more unruly.
A steamy breakfast aroma wafts down the hallway and satisfyingly fills your lungs. You can hear the four of them chattering and Satoru's interspersed mini-lectures.
You look at them from the doorframe, Yuji and Nobara run out the other way into the interleading sitting room.
" Who's that peering 'round the corner ? " Satoru playfully teases, his voice bringing you warmth.
" Maaa. " Megumi groans and trots over to you, giving you as big of a hug as his little body could manage.
You comb your fingers through his hair, fixing up the mess that Satoru's previous ruffling caused — as usual.
And he flashes a look behind him at you, winking like a cheeky flirt. His smile is so big because of how purely happy the sight of you makes him; especially with that bleary-eyed morning face. You look so cozy, it makes his heart lurch to see you wearing his oversized t-shirt.
" Hey ! You didn't give me a morning hug ! " Satoru pouts and complains to his son.
Megumi groans. With a small encouragement from you, he quickly dives in for a rushed and almost shy hug. His arms wrap around Satoru's legs. And like the menace your husband is, he ruffles Megumi's hair to ruin again — making the boy groan annoyedly and break the hug.
" Ugh, daaad stop. Mom just fixed my hair. " Megumi grimaced, promptly running away when Satoru smiled down at him evilly — because that smile was the one he made before going in for tickles. And tickles from Satoru? They were devastating, truly.
So little footsteps thump out of the kitchen and the two loud voices that have been sounding from the sitting room become three loud voices. You notice how Megumi's accent takes after Satoru's rather than yours, and it warms your heart.
You approach the stressed, apron-clad chef and immediately he turns around to engulf you in an energetic kiss and embrace.
" You're burning the bacon, dad. " you giggle, face squishing into his torso.
" NOOO — shitshitshit. " he mutters under his breath, lips tingling from that tasty kiss he just snatched off your lips.
" Language, 'Toru. " you murmur at him, arms wrapping around his slim waist. You give him butterflies and then he loses all composure, causing a burnt disaster in the pan. The eggs are crusted brown, the bacon is glitterring as it sizzles a deep color.
Automatically, you go around the kitchen collecting and preparing plates and cutlery for the meal. The clang and clash of plastic reminds you that today is a big deal; you and Satoru were going to go out and use the rest of your weekly savings on new kitchenware.
Stopping for a moment to amire the attractive view of your husband's physique from behind, while he rather chaotically shovels the cooked contents of the pan out onto the serving plate that you slide next to him.
" Ah the bacon is saved. . . " he breathes in relief.
The sizzling food finds its home on plates. Satoru steals a quick kiss.
And then another. And another and another until the two of you zone out for a moment and feel like you're just two teenagers again, stealing lovey dovey kisses on your way to morning classes, of course his lips always caused you to be you late to everything back then.
But before you and Satoru can completely intertwine like lovers, there's the common interrruption of Yuji's wailing coming from the sitting room. You and your husband exchange those parental sighs and smiles, before you head into the other room to fix the little commotion. Poor Yuji complains to you through teary eyes that Nobara bit him "for being annoying" and Megumi is just wandering back into the kitchen to help his dad serve up breakfast without him even needing to be asked. He was just a sweet boy like that.
And it's a good meal. One that hits all the spots. You wish you could have more, even though Satoru did put from his plate onto yours throughout the meal. It's a caring habit of his that you never realize until after you've devoured everything. You pay him thanks with a tasty kiss, and he smiles into it like he always does.
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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chaotic--pan · 2 years
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When your start obsessing over a new fandom and it turns out that your mutual who kept reblogging all your post from your last obsession is also into his new thing and now they are still liking all your new shit 😊
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redbullgirly · 3 months
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Hi! Can you write something about Lando x reader where she wants to wait till marriage to have sex and how'd he react to this? I'll leave the rest to you, it doesn't have to be a whole fic, maybe just a small blurb. Thank you <3
SAND AND CONFESSION [LN4 oneshot]
Lando Norris x reader
Summary: You and Lando have been going out for few weeks, maybe months now. While you're enjoying each other's company on a beach with sunset behind your backs, you decide to tell him you want to wait with sex till marriage.
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: English isn't my first language and I honestly didn't write for a while, so if some sentences are kinda weird or sloppy, I'm very sorry! Don't be afraid to correct me if you find some errors.
Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I hope you and everybody else will like this shorter fic I wrote based on it. I'll appreciate likes, comments, follows, reblogs and any other form of support! :)
The sand beneath your feet was still warm, though the sun had almost set behind the fluffy clouds on the horizon. You ran up the beach, trying to get as far from the sea as you could, before the curly-haired man could throw you into the waves, messing up your hair. He followed you, laughing and almost tripping, which was probably the only reason you actually managed to escape to the laid out blanket with your things and bags.
You laid on it, your chest covered in droplets of salty water heaving with uneven breaths. Some sand probably stuck to your wet skin, but you didn't mind.
“Y/N, you left me there all alone!” Lando faked a pout, standing above you with crossed arms and a silly smile.
“Yeah, 'cause you tried to drown me!” you fired right back and stuck out your tongue.
He shook his head and stretched out his arm, helping you stand back up. Then, without any warning, he slapped your ass. You squealed his name and tried to punch him, but he dodged effortlessly. May his fast reflexes be damned.
It was getting darker by every minute, the sun now nearly gone from the evening sky. Shadows slowly crept to the beach, and you shivered in the cool air. Lando, the caring boy he was, instantly noticed the goosebumps popping up all over your body. You were both still just in your swimsuits, and it was getting cold. 
He bent down to the bag you took to the beach with you and took out a big towel. “C'mere baby,” he mumbled, and when you took a step towards him, he wrapped you and himself up in it. 
Suddenly, you didn't feel cold at all — quite the opposite, really. Lando's firm body was pressed against you, his hands around your waist and faces impossibly close to each other. You could feel his warm breath, smelling after the vanilla milkshake you drank at a cozy café before going to the private beach.
One of his big hands cupped your cheek, your eyes locked in with his intense blue stare. Lando and you were going out for a few weeks, even months now. You didn't put any label on it, maybe too afraid of the feelings that bubbled in your stomach every time that exact expression appeared in his eyes. The one of pure adoration and happiness, as if you'd give him the Moon. And honestly? If he ever asked, you probably would. Or at least try.
As if the boy could read your thoughts, his smile deepened, and he finally closed the remaining distance between you two. His lips felt soft and hard against yours at the same time, asking and demanding all at once. Lando was always careful at the start, but as soon as your body relaxed, and you gently bit his bottom lip, the kiss heated up pretty quickly.
He moaned into your mouth and his hold on your waist tightened. This wasn't your first time making out, but it never felt so intense, so breathtaking before. You struggled to keep pace with him, though you'd lie if you said you didn't like it. However, when his hands slipped under the towel that was still wrapped around your bodies, and tugged onto your bikini straps, you pulled away. Your cheeks were flushed, lips swollen and hair messy.
He stopped, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked at you questioningly, eyes wide. You realized Lando thought he did something wrong, again. And that made you feel even worse than before.
“What's wrong, babe?” he asked in a quiet voice, his hand still cupping the side of your cheek. You wanted to look down, ashamed and not knowing how to say what had to be said, but Lando didn't let you. “You can tell me Y/N. I won't be angry or anything.”
It was his assurance and sweet voice that caused you to sight and swallow thickly.
“I… there's something I need to tell you,” you whispered. He just nodded, listening curiously. “So, I feel weird saying it, but… I never actually… you know.” You point between you and him. “I never did this before,” you confess, not able to look him into the eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That's no problem at all-” You put your finger on his lips, silently asking him to be quiet.
“And,” you say, making him know that's not all you wanted to say, “I don't want to. Not until marriage.”
Now he seems surprised, taken aback even. It's clear he's processing your words for a moment, while you almost faint from the nerves. You're worried he won't understand. That now, when you told him he won't get what most men want, he'll break up whatever you two have going on.
But he does nothing like that. No, he nods slowly, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A smile that soon turns into the grin you know so well by this point. And then, Lando pulls you closer and whispers in your ear: “Well, good thing I plan on marrying you one day.”
And even though he says it in a joking voice, wanting to lighten up the atmosphere, you know right there and then that deep down, he means it.
THE END
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2kmps · 6 days
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DARK POOL
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aquatic monster x reader | 18+ | 2.8k
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story summary; your granduncle explains that the noises at the bottom of the lighthouse and the missing chunk out of his leg are from swimming rats. you let him think you're a fool.
story warnings; some graphic depictions that some may consider gory, mentions of biting, mentions of rats, creature in captivity, explicit sexual content, double penetration (not safe), prose + detail heavy, implied breeding, not proofread.
if you enjoyed it, please reblog + interact!!
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Granduncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.
He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.
It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.
“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”
You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.
“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”
Granduncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”
Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, granduncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.
Granduncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”
When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.
For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.
There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.
You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brought a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.
So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.
He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.
“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”
Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.
“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”
“No.”
He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.
You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.
He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.
“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”
With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.
There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.
He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.
The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.
It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.
So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.
His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.
“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.
Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.
“Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”
The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.
“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.
You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.
“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”
He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.
It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.
His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.
You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”
There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.
Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.
He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.
“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.
He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.
“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”
"Just—just don't hurt me.”
His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.
Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.
Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.
You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.
After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.
“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”
You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.
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a/n: not my best work, but hopefully passable. it's really helpful when y'all reblog, so please do so!!!
I don't really have any comments on this because I'm starting over from zero on the long-fic of the aquatic monster story bc I hated what I had lmao.
anyway, please keep in mind that is a concept piece. chances are that none of this will be present in the actual long-fic. this just helps me to explore ideas and familiarize myself with characters.
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6lostgirl6 · 1 year
Note
yandere john wick with “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” he just gives off such over protective/possessive energyyy 🤭
Your Protector
Pairing: Yandere!John Wick x Fem!Reader
TW: Yandere themes, toxic themes, mentioned stalking, kidnapping, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, pet names, dubious kissing (at first), slightly suggestive. Reblogs are highly appreciated!!
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It was infatuation and obsession that drove him to take such drastic measures. Ever since he saw you, he was absolutely convinced that you were meant for him. His second chance at happiness and love since the passing of his wife, Helen.
It was also fear, fear that if he didn't kidnap you, you would be somehow hurt or even killed. John has spent many nights without sleep, worried over your safety. He knew that if he didn't take action, something was bound to happen.
You never met him before, never spoke with him, and it was a shock when he finally kidnapped you. A complete stranger. The last thing you could remember was walking home from another late-night shift and being grabbed from behind. In a millisecond, your mouth was covered by a cloth and your vision went black.
When you finally came to, you realized you did not recognize your surroundings. You were resting in a lavish guest room and you were still trying to wrap your brain around what was happening. While you were gathering your bearings, a man appeared. He was standing over you by the side of the bed.
"Good morning, sweetheart." The man said with a smile, greeting you in an affectionate tone. "I hope you slept well."
At first glance, he was a very attractive man and of great wealth. His towering stature, long black hair and wearing a seemingly expensive black tailored suit.
“Who are you?” You asked in fright, staring at him with wide eyes.
“W-What’s going on?” You scooted back against the headboard, trying to maintain some distance between you and the man. “What do you want?” You continued to stare at him, fearful of what he might do. 
His gaze held a disturbing mixture of kindness and menace as he looked down at you. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you." He paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I just want to make sure that we're together. Forever."
“Who are you?” You were confused, having not ever met this strange man before in your entire life. You thought that this man was clearly delusional, could be mistaking you for someone else. He wanted the two of you to be together, but you could not understand the reasoning behind it. You needed to figure out who he is and hopefully find means of escaping. 
"I'm John Wick," he says simply, leaning over you. He has this strange, almost otherworldly quality about him that's difficult to explain. A sense of danger, but not necessarily violence. He's calm and collected, but you also feel the threat of his presence. It's like looking into the eyes of a predator, one who's just been waiting for the right moment to strike. It's terrifying, yet compelling at the same time.
Noticing your fear, he slowly moved to sit on the edge of the bed, bringing himself a little more to your level of height. However, he still continued to tower over you. With slight hesitation, he reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your cheekbone. It's a gesture of familiarity and affection, yet there's a sense of darkness and danger to it.
"Don't be afraid, sweetheart." He said with a small smile, his intense dark-brown eyes locking onto yours. It was almost hypnotic, the way he was looking at you. Almost as if he truly knew you and for quite some time too. It left you feeling conflicted, complicated emotions infiltrating your heart.
His touch that was so gentle against your cheek, prompted your cheeks to grow a little warm. His affection was breaking down your resolve and leaving you quite nervous. Not nervous as if you were fearing for your life for feeling anxious, but rather the form of butterflies forming in your stomach and your heart in your throat. 
The warmth creeping onto your face seems to embolden John, and he leans in closer to you, his hand still resting on your cheek as the other trails its way down your thigh. He stared at you, his dark eyes taking in every detail of your appearance.
"You're so beautiful.” He whispers, his warm breath fanning across your face. There's an intensity to him that's almost frightening. He appeared like a wild animal, one that could snap at any moment. It was undeniable that there was something primal about him, something you can't help but be attracted to.
You couldn’t reply, unable to form any coherent sentences from the intensity and electrifying touch of his hand on your thigh. Slowly, you were feeling less uncomfortable but rather shy from his affectionate touches. However, your walls were starting to return when you remembered that you didn't even know this man.
“John…why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
"Because you're mine." He replied, his gaze was intense and there was undeniable heat in his voice. It was more than enough to make you feel a little dizzy. Almost as if you were falling into some dark abyss. There's no question that this man is dangerous, but you can't help feeling drawn to him. He exudes a primal, dangerous energy that is almost addictive, and you find yourself craving more of his attention and touch.”And I do know you, I know everything about you, (Y/N).”
You glanced towards the door, noticing that it was left open. Your logical side was screaming for you to wake up and understand that you were involved with something, someone, extremely dangerous. In that second, you were broken out of your spell. 
You hesitate before launching yourself from the bed in an attempt to escape.
John's smile fades as you attempt to flee, his expression turning dark and deadly. Without even seeming to move, he blocks the door, his body looming over you like a shadow of death. 
"Don't." He says, his voice low and dangerous. “You'll only make this harder for yourself, sweetheart." His eyes are cold and calculating, but there's also a strange desire behind them. 
One that's both terrifying and alluring.
With wide eyes, you backed away, feeling small in comparison to his looming figure and his predatory stance. The size difference between you two was incredible. You continued to keep your distance, placing yourself between furniture. 
With slow and deliberate steps, he follows you around the room, seemingly getting closer with each passing moment. He had the patience of an animal on the verge of a hunt. You can feel his eyes on you, tracking your every move. When he speaks again, his voice is calm, but there's something dangerous hidden beneath the surface. He's like a calm sea hiding the storm underneath. 
"You can't get away from me, sweetheart." He begins to move closer again, this time grabbing your wrist and holding it tight, his grasp like iron. "You belong to me."
“Yeah, right!” You struggled, trying to rip your wrist away from his grasp, he could only stare at you in slight amusement and anger. “I don’t belong to you or anyone! Nothing you will ever do will make me think otherwise!”
He raises an eyebrow and smirks at you, before he replies. 
"Alright then." 
Without warning, he pulls you towards him, kissing you passionately. His body is firm and strong, holding you tightly in his arms. His kiss is passionate and intense, like he's pouring all of his feelings and desires into it. The kiss was passionate and borderline possessive, trying to make you submit and accept him as your lover and protector. His grip around your wrist and waist is tight, becoming a little painful. You’re completely at his mercy and helpless in his arms.
You gasp from the sudden kiss, feeling intense emotions swirling within you and making your heart skip a beat. After a small moment, you began to return the kiss, thoughts of escaping melting from your mind. He also seemed to relax more into the kiss, it turning softer and loving, feeling that you were slowly but surely returning his affections. He pulls away after a moment, staring at you with a hungry and passionate gaze. 
"Are you convinced?" He asks, his voice low and husky, his gaze very heated and full of immense desire. He's still holding you tightly in his arms, not letting you go anywhere. He simply couldn't get enough of you. It's adamant that this animal has a lot of pent-up desire and passion. Now, he was looking forward to releasing it all onto you.  
"Y-Yes..." You muttered, your brain currently in a state of mush. You simply looked up at him with wide eyes, your cheeks warm from the intensity of his affections.
Slowly, he released your wrist, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, his thumb brushing just underneath your eye. His touch was gentle and even a little soothing. He looked into your eyes, his heated stare now full of softness towards you. “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?” His voice, similar to his touch, was also full of softness. 
“Y-Yes…” Your resolve was completely demolished, he has successfully twisted your feelings around and made your heart scream out for more of his attention. Thoughts of finding a way to escape barely crossed your mind, your logical side slipping further away from your grasp. 
You simply didn’t care. 
"Good." He whispers, his voice was husky once more, full of want and desire for you.
With another powerful pull, he brings you into another kiss, one that is even more passionate than the first one. Knowing that you finally submitted left him with an animalistic excitement. He's hungry for you, almost starving for your touch and affection, and you can barely keep up with his ravenous desires. His excitement continued to grow, his grip on you tightening as he held you in his arms.  
"You're mine now, my love."  He continues, his eyes glistening with desire. 
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Spam Liking W/O Reblogging = Blocked
Taglist: Comment to be added!!
@prettywhenibleed
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spockandawe · 7 months
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Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.
Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.
God. Dammit.
I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.
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And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.
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First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.
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Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:
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Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.
In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:
I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂
So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.
Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!
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So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.
This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.
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141trash · 3 months
Text
Every Man has his Breaking Point
AN: *Exhales loudly and screams* I had a mini panic attack because the links weren't working and I realized I hadn't reblogged the post but its fine because I scrolled my thousands of likes for this :) This is inspired by @bleuu-moon's post! I loved it and as I was eating my ramen ended up imagining Ghost in a similar position. unedited full of grammatical errors bc reasons
At first he thought you were a hallucination given that he'd been knocked over the head pretty damn hard during his capture. He woke up on the cold floor of some cell with you leaning over him, pressing a bit of cloth to his forehead. Swatting your hand away from his face, he forced himself to sit up and take stock of the situation.
There was a brief underlying panic when he realized they'd stripped him of his mask and you now knew what he looked like. All his weapons were gone as were his shoes and anything that might have been useful for escaping. Whoever took him clearly knew what he was capable of.
Wincing as he braced himself against the wall he finally turned his attention back to you. Definitely a civilian. Small, innocent, young. There had to be something that he didn't know about you that made you a target because you and him being stuck together in this situation seemed like such an odd pairing.
"What they want with you?" he asked hoarsely, breaking the silence. Your head shot up to look at him, nervously playing with the fabric between your fingers.
"I don't know." you replied shaking your head.
Simon grunted, but otherwise didn't say anything else. His head was throbbing painfully, but he needed to understand what was going on if he was going to get out of there. It occurred to him after a while that you might be working with his captors, placed there to gain his trust and get information out of him that way. If that was the reasoning then it was a stupid idea. A young pretty face wasn't going to get your bosses any answers.
He decided then that until he could confirm that theory he wouldn't interact with you again.
It was two days later when someone finally came in. The pair of you were on opposite sides of the cell. You'd been dozing on and off to keep from letting the anxiety overwhelm you, but when you heard the key scraping the lock to the outer door your head shot up instantly alert.
Across the cell Simon didn't lift his head to glance at the door, briefly though his gaze flitted to you, to see your reaction.
"Lieutenant Riley." a man with a grandiose voice greeted as a guard opened the cell door to let him in.
"I know you?" Simon asked almost boredly, looking at the man and not recognizing anything.
The man's face twitched slightly, hands tightening to fists at his sides, "Perhaps not. But I know you."
He looked at you then, causing you to shrink back from the slimy feeling that went down your spine.
"You don't like your gift?"
You shuddered at the obvious implication in his voice, tears welling up in your eyes.
"You must not know me very well if you thought that would get me to talk." Simon disparaged making a face in disgust. For a brief second you didn't know whether to be relieved or offended.
The man clucked his tongue like a bad superhero movie villain, a greasy smile spreading across his face, "Every man has his breaking point Lieutenant Riley. I'm excited for us to find yours."
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navybrat817 · 1 year
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Take You Higher
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Summary: Most people don't have an assassin waiting for them in the backseat of their car, but it's your lucky day.
Pairing: Assassin!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Almost 3.2k Warnings: E/xplicit s/exual content, unprotected s/ex, car s/ex, p/ossessive behavior, w/eapons, pet names, canon divergent, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nix provided me with a beautiful edit of Bucky and I began a new AU, A Different Call. This is for you, Nix, and I can't wait to share more of this world.❤️ Beta read by the wonderful @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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It was later than usual as you made your way toward your car, your gaze darting from left to right before you checked your phone. There was just enough light illuminating the lot where you could see where you were going, but not much else beyond your path. Everyone said it wasn't safe to walk alone at night, but you took your chances. The keys between your fingers made a quick weapon for anyone who got too close. If anyone was dumb enough to put their hands on you, the sting from the brass would be the least of their worries.
It’s almost fun when people underestimate me.
Your gaze moved to the ground before you got to the driver’s side, satisfied that no one was underneath your car as you tucked your phone in your bag. There were no vehicles on either side of yours for anyone to grab you and pull you in. If people had the chance to look inside your head, they might think you’re paranoid. You’d argue you had your own reasons to be. Danger lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike the moment anyone let their guard down.
What people didn't know was that shadows often lingered by the light and the most trustworthy of people wore masks in the form of smiles. You learned to live in the shade and make your own fragments of light. While trusting people didn’t come to you as easily, there were a few you let in. Those who didn’t mind living in the gray.
But according to the one you let in the most, you were the one who brought color into the world.
Glancing at the passenger side seat, you smiled to yourself as you got into the car and locked the door. Normally you reached right for the seatbelt. Tonight, you sat still and took a deep breath. A combination of a sweet and musky fragrance greeted you. It smelled like home.
It was why you didn’t flinch when you felt the muzzle of a gun against the side of your neck.
"Didn't anyone teach you to check the backseat before you get in a vehicle?"
The deep timbre of the voice behind you sent a chill down your spine that settled at the base. Daring to glance at the rearview mirror, you were met with a pair of cold blue eyes and a face framed by long brown hair. His lips were set in a grim line that accentuated the scruff surrounding them. Even with how spacious the back of your car was, he took up a good amount of space with his massive frame.
Death in the form of the most handsome man alive.
James “Bucky” Barnes. A former Army Sergeant turned assassin for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s STRIKE team. Most of the intelligence community referred to him as the Winter Soldier.
You simply called him yours, like he called you his.
"Maybe I’ve been waiting for an assassin to try and take me out. Only for me to flip the script and have him spare my life," you answered, smiling when he pressed the gun a bit harder against your neck. You wondered if he felt your pulse race through the metal. "Maybe even make him fall madly in love with me."
He didn't smile back at your reflection, but warmth filled his eyes in a familiar and tender gaze. "What if this assassin is already madly in love with you?"
You swallowed as he traced the barrel down to your shoulder. "Then I guess I win."
“We both win,” he whispered, sitting back in his seat and taking his gun with him. “Get back here.”
“You don’t want us to drive home?” you asked, though you made no move to put the key in the ignition.
“I said get back here,” he growled, your heart beating faster. You knew what that tone meant. You’d be lucky if you were able to walk tomorrow. “Now.”
Huffing playfully when you caught his narrowed eyes in the mirror again, you still decided to push just a little. “Bossy. Give me a second so I can- Bucky!”
You weren’t sure how he managed, but he moved your seat back far enough to grab and pull you beside him. And he managed to put his gun away before you collided with him. It didn’t surprise you though. Your man had multiple skills and was likely pent up from waiting in your car. You were pent up, too.
“Missed you,” he whispered, forcing you to straddle him.
When he framed your face with calloused hands, you expected him to pull you in for a kiss. But his eyes searched yours for a moment and you knew he was committing you to his memory once more. The love of your life had his head messed with a long time ago to the point where he lost control of his own actions and memories. While he was in a better place now, you never questioned when he needed to look at you for a second longer than usual.
If gazing at me grounds you, I’ll let you stare forever.
“I missed you, too,” you breathed, moaning when he finally brought his lips to yours and parted them with his tongue.
You didn’t realize how fast your heart was racing until Bucky slid a hand to your chest, teasing your breast through the fabric. Knowing he was back home with you was both a comfort and a sigh of relief. In the line of work the two of you were in, the promise of tomorrow was never one you could make. It made each moment that much more precious.
“Not gonna make it another minute without being inside you,” he warned you, shoving your dress up to your hips and careful to avoid the knife strapped to your thigh. You wore the garment, and the weapon he gave you, with the expectation he’d be home today. “Tell me you need me.”
“I always need you, Bucky,” you said, grinding your hips in a slow rhythm. Your barely clad pussy rubbed against the bulge in his jeans and it was enough to make his head fall back. “You need to be inside me? Need to feel my pussy around your big cock?”
“Yes. When we get home, I’ll make love to you,” Bucky snarled, making you gasp when he grasped your underwear and tore it from your body. “But I need to fuck you first, so be good and take my cock out.”
You rubbed yourself against the front of his jeans again to leave a wet spot before you raised your hips. “You better not be hurt,” you teased, but your eyes flashed in a warning as you unbuckled his belt.
“You’re free to check me when we get home. After we're in bed,” he offered, bringing a hand to your face again so you’d look into his eyes. No one ever looked at you with such devotion until he came into your life. “But I’m okay."
In a world full of lies, you trusted him completely.
"If you're okay, I'm okay," you whispered, wasting no more time as you unzipped his pants and reached inside his underwear. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. It also left you in awe how hard he felt in your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him. You might not make it another minute either without him inside you.
If anyone walked by and happened to look in the window, they’d get quite a show. At least before Bucky got his gun out and pointed it in their direction. The man would be able to find a way to shoot someone and fuck you at the same time.
"Take me in," he ordered, gripping your hips as you guided him to your waiting hole. "Please."
Bucky wasn't desperate or a man who begged. But the strain in his voice and the raw need that shone in his eyes, it told you how much he needed you. It was a heady feeling to bring the often cold assassin to the brink. It was also an honor that he trusted you when he let those walls down.
"God," you moaned as you sank down agonizingly slowly, locking eyes with him as you did as he ordered and took him into you inch by inch. It didn't matter that he didn't stretch you first. The sting was one you welcomed since you both asked for it. Who cared if you were a little sore tomorrow when you knew he'd take good care of you?
He exhaled as he allowed you a moment to adjust. It wouldn't be long until he rolled his hips up. "Only name I want you to speak is mine. Because if there is a god here tonight, it's me."
Bucky may not be a god in the literal sense, but he had been the beginning of your salvation. You walked beside him when he offered his hand. It was the path you were meant to take.
And you had almost forgotten how good it felt to have him inside you.
"Then fuck me properly, Bucky," you said, kissing him again because you could.
A low and dark grunt rumbled against your lips as he moved beneath you. Your body enveloped him in a tender and heated embrace, welcoming him home. He'd encourage you to ride him and match his pace shortly. For now, you savored every thrust of his cock, thick and bare, nothing separating you. Both of you preferred it that way.
"Ride it. Show me how much you missed me," he groaned after a minute, bringing a strong hand to the back of your neck. Your heart raced as you watched his eyes darken more. "Look at me. Don't you fucking look away."
A whimper fell from your lips, eager to please him as you braced yourself on his shoulders and raised your hips. The slow slide of his cock along your slick walls felt heavenly before you moved back down. You'd bounce on his cock all night if he let you. "So full," you moaned, never wanting to be empty again.
“Still tight no matter how many times I fuck you,” he said, licking his lips as he leaned back against the seat. The slight shift in the angle had him pushing deeper inside you and you weren’t ashamed of the loud cry you let out. “Perfect pussy and it’s all mine.”
You clenched around him at his words, your body tingling as you fucked yourself on his cock. He met you halfway, a subtle indication that you were equals and partners. Two halves of a whole. Living, breathing proof that soulmates existed in some capacity.
A reward for the hell you both went through.
“I need you to come in me,” you begged, shuddering when the head of his cock brushed your g-spot. Unduliated pleasure rippled from head to toe as he swore in Russian. His release dripping out of you later would serve as a beautiful reminder of his claim. He had every part of you. “Please. I've been so empty without you."
"I need you to come on it first,” he groaned, fucking up into with enough force that you had to grip his shirt to hold on. You weren't just heading toward your climax. He was going to catapult you there. “Give it to me and I’ll give it to you. Come. Make a mess all over me.”
Bucky gripped your chin before your head could fall back, making sure you stared in his eyes as you came. Your pleasure belonged to him and you accepted that as you shivered through your orgasm, unashamedly gushing around him. Your pussy was exceptionally greedy when it came to him and you weren’t ready to come down from the high just yet.
“That’s it. Give me everything,” he demanded, holding you still so he could thrust deep and chase his own release. Your walls twitched, the wet, sucking sound adding to the addition of your soft moans and his grunts. You gave it all and were ready to take everything he gave you in return.
“Give it to me, too, Bucky," you pleaded through the haze. "I can take it.”
He pressed his forehead to yours as he moaned your name, holding you close as he spilled inside you. Bringing a hand up to grip his hair as his hips stilled, you smiled as he let out another moan. You breathed heavily before giving him a peck on the lips, smiling wider as he began to catch his breath. His eyes always took on a gorgeous shade of blue when pleasure clouded them.
“Welcome home,” you exhaled, trying to move beside him.
“Wait,” he whispered, firmly bringing your hips back down and keeping him around his thick thighs. You gasped at the friction against your clit, your body wanting more already. “Just. Stay like this.”
He buried his face against the side of your neck, nosing along your skin as he evened out his breathing. It was almost a ritual when he came back from an assignment to hold you this way. If you weren’t in your car, your clothes would have been torn to shreds or thrown on the floor. Which you fully expected once he drove you home.
And you would make him drive since he decided to ambush you in the best possible way.
“You sure you’re okay?” you whispered after a minute, his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "Nothing went wrong on your assignment?"
“It went off without a hitch,” he answered, mouthing at your pulse. “It's just getting harder to be away from home. Away from you.”
The slight vulnerability in his tone made you pause before your fingers gently combed through his hair, your heart still beating fast. You didn't have a home until the two of you made one together. “I get it,” you whispered.
Before you, Bucky didn’t mind most of his missions. That changed once he took you under his wing. It comforted him to have someone else watching his back. But the rare assignments he had to take alone, he liked them less and less as time went on. He hated being away from you.
It pained you, too.
You whined in surprise when he bit down hard on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “You didn’t look in the backseat. Why not?"
The post orgasm bliss faded at the slight growl in his tone, yet aroused you all over again.
"Because Steve gave me a heads up that he saw you before I went into the parking lot and I checked the motion detector on my car through my phone,” you told him as his tongue soothed the sting. He could avoid being seen, so he likely wanted his best friend or you to spot him. You were all careful otherwise. "You also left me the all clear signal on the passenger seat."
Spotting the bouquet tied with a single blue ribbon before you got in the car, you knew it was safe to get in and that he was waiting for you. He bought Peruvian flowers for you on your first date and chose them because of the beauty and color. He said that you brought those things back into his life. It became a signal for the two of you, as well as a token of affection.
Maybe one day, I'll have his last name as the ultimate sign of devotion.
Bucky always had those specific flowers for you when he returned from a mission and often bought them for you just because he wanted to. And if a day ever went by that he didn’t have the flowers upon coming home, or if the flowers were out of the ordinary, you’d know something was wrong. You had your own signals for him, too.
“That punk,” he said, kissing back to your lips. “He's lucky he's my friend. I wanted to surprise you."
He could count on less than one hand how many people he loved and trusted. You and Steve were two of the very few. It was only natural that the S.T.R.I.K.E. member and former Captain kept an eye out for you and vice versa. Someone important to Bucky was important to you.
Not to mention, Steve was a good man. It seemed like there weren't many left in the world. You saw why your lover respected him and called him a friend.
“And just when have you managed to surprise me?" you asked.
"The first time we saw each other face to face," he replied.
The day he was supposed to kill you.
“That's true," you agreed after a beat. "You don’t regret choosing to save me?”
Bucky pulled back with the softest smile on his face as your heart swelled in your chest. The look of love in his eyes nearly stole the oxygen from your lungs. His thumb brushed your cheek and it shocked you when he wiped away a tear. You didn’t know it had fallen.
“I regret a lot of things in my life, but you will never be one of them,” he assured you, kissing the spot where he brushed away your tear. “I’ll never regret loving you, Kitten.”
You raked your fingers softly along his scalp. He called you that before the two of you fought and the nickname stuck. You didn’t mind it. Your stealth, flexibility, and reflexes were catlike at times. He picked up on those things immediately.
“And I’ll never regret being yours, Killer," you swore. He'd never let anyone else call him that. "Or loving you.”
You understood the assassin better than most. To some degree, you knew what it was like not to be in control. Choices were taken away from you. People used the two of you for their gain, but he helped put you on a path of hope.
All because he made a different call that fateful day.
“Put your claws away,” he groaned when you moved your nails along his head again, making him rock inside you. His stamina drove you wild. “Or we’ll have round two here instead of in our bed.”
“But you promised you’d take me home and make love to me.”
"And I will, but I may need to ruin you here one more time,” he smirked, slipping his tongue into your mouth before you could argue.
If he wants to use sex as a weapon, I’ll happily accept every wound.
Before the night was over, he took you home and made love to you as he promised. He held you so close against him that it was as if you shared one breath. He even watched you as you fell asleep, an unexpected fear gripping him. In the back of his mind, he sensed that someone was still out there waiting to take you away from him.
But if anyone ever tried, he'd burn the word down to save you all over again.
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Let's hope no one is dumb enough to go after Kitten. Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi
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