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#its really been leaving a bad taste in my mouth the last few weeks though
vigilantesyd · 5 months
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voiddoesntexist · 1 year
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hi again !! ★
this week was fun i think :)
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i feel like a lot has happened since the last blog, even though it was in the same week !! the week was technically shorter since i didn't have to go to school on tuesday, which was amazing, though i got bored a little quick (and then posted !). i really liked really everything i wore this week, obviously not including tuesday. i'm getting back into himekaji !! which is great !! i missed it SO much and honestly it's probably the substyle that fits me the most, it's just that i can't do it often since i dont have a lot of clothes for it :(
since tuesday, its been eventful though !! on wednesday, i got to see lion king on broadway, which was just beautiful. the only part i disliked about it was the audience. a few people were laughing at rafiki speaking xhosa which just put a bad taste in my mouth. thursday, my parents and a few more decided to watch the first black panther together, just to recap for the second one. saturday, i got to go to the mall and to the hello kitty cafe with my qpps (look that up) and it was so fun <33 i missed them so much and they make me super happy. i had to leave early though so i could see black panther 2 with my family !! i almost cried like 5 times but i couldn't since i had makeup on >_< and today i'll just chill and do my homework.
moving onto co*des !! >:) this week was a really good mix of substyles <3 on monday, i wore this super cute himekaji co*de. i wore a cute hoodie over a blouse and matched a plaid skirt with it ! i also used some bows i wore for homecoming. wednesday, i wore a skeleton themed rokku co*de with a purple plaid skirt and my favorite black furry legwarmers. thursday, another himekaji co*de (woo hoo !) with a long sleeved blouse, a pink cardigan, and this checked bunny skirt i got !! i feel like i don't wear it enough. gal friday, i don't think my co*de fit into a specific substyle but i still loved it ! it was a long sleeved pink hello kitty crop top, jean shorts, and my black legwarmers again. saturday i had two co*des ! the first one was kuromi themed for the hello kitty truck, and the second was this dressy look with a kente jacket for black panther !
i have no choice but to reveal all my co*des since i loved them all so much, so here's the six that i wore that week !! i hope you all enjoy them all and i'll see you next time andddd i love you !! <3
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Dawn Café (Gwynriel One Shot)
Hi, I’m essentially new on here and thought I would post some of my writing. This is also already posted in a Gwynriel collection on AO3. I just thought the acotar community here is a bit bigger :) 
This one shot was inspired by a promt - about Gwyn being a barista and wooing Azriel by drawing latte art that someone suggested I write a little story about on AO3. So, a modern AU with our favourites. 
Warnings: this is definitely mature/NSFW/18+ with explicit smut and swearing 
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“What?? What do you mean Aelin is too good for him? I think they are perfect for each other!”, Gwyn nearly chocked on her take-away, she was so enraged. Her favorite ship was being dragged through the mud, and she wasn’t having any of it.
“Love, it’s obvious. Did you hear him talk to this Bryce girl? He was way too patronizing. If I would have done that to you when we started dating, you’d have had my balls.”, Azriel explained matter of fact, gesturing to the TV with his fork in hand.
He was really hot when he got into his debate mode, his sharp mind was the first (okay, maybe second) thing that Gwyn found so irresistible about him. Even when that sharp mind was currently debating the newest episode of “Love Island” with her.
“Don’t pretend you haven’t been guilty of that before. Cut this guy some slack, he had such a hard breakup with the brunette. I’d argue he is just misunderstood and needs a strong hand to guide him.”, Gwyn would not leave her ship. She was the proud captain.
“What he needs is a strong kick in the ass. She should go with the blond guy, what’s his name?”, Azriel rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to remember, before blurting out, “Rowan!”.
Gwyn couldn’t help the giggle making its way up to her mouth. She would have never guessed that her broody, serious boyfriend, who profusely tried to resist watching Gwyn’s reality TV shows with her a few months ago, would end up the biggest fan. He seriously beat her to the TV every night the show was on, without fail.
“Fine, whatever.”, she decided to be nice tonight and give in to his ridiculous opinion. She would prove him right anyway next week. Finishing up her udon noodles, she threw the take away container back into its bag. That was her favorite thing about ordering in – the lack of dishes. Azriel hasn’t finished yet, but she wasn’t one bit surprised about that. He had ordered three different main courses and was currently munching himself through the second. That might have been the only downside to living with him: the increased food bills. But the past months proved he was very capable of making up for that in more than one way.
Gwyn leisurely stretched her arms and slouched back on the couch, ever so thankful for her baggy sweat pants. She continued to watch the show for a little while, eyes occasionally drifting to her boyfriend to find him working his way through the food. By the looks of it, he would actually finish, no left overs to be eaten the next day. That made Gwyn reach out her hand to rest on his knee and draw little circles there with her thumb.
Given his eating habit tonight, he must have had the worst day at work. Sometimes, his boss’s demands get so frequent and stressful that he literally finds no time to eat. His perfectionism and work ethic don’t really help with that either.
The jingle of a commercial break interrupted her thoughts. Azriel, sinking the very last spoonful of food into his mouth, let out a satisfying groan. He chewed, eyes closed as if to savor the taste one last time, with his hands meeting behind his head, his impressive biceps flexing in the process.
It was so unfair. How he looked like straight from a runway in his baggy grey sweats and black shirt, while Gwyn looked like a slob. Even though he would probably disagree with that, scold her for saying bad things about herself and then show her exactly how beautiful she looked to him. That kind of made her consider saying it out loud. But maybe not yet, as her food baby needed to settle before she considered anything close to being thrown around in a bed.
Azriel stood, the delivery bag in hand, to make his way to the spacious kitchen attached to the living room. The flat Gwyn and Az shared was previously Az’s alone. He works a demanding, but well-paying job which brought him a fantastic apartment with only little spare time to enjoy it. Which is why Gwyn cherished these little moments and every date night she got to spend with him.
Azriel returned to the couch, two glasses of wine in his hands, and carefully sat down next to her. A little closer than before, Gwyn noted with delight. He handed her the wine and they clicked glasses, smiling fondly at each other. Just as Gwyn leaned into give her attentive boyfriend a well-earned kiss, a sudden weight being dropped into her lap made her squeal. Azriel let out a huffed laugh, “Stop squealing, you’ll scare her. She just wants to say hi.”
Azriel’s black cat, fittingly (both in appearance and behavior) named Shadow, purred as she nudged her little furry head against Gwyn’s chest. The demand was clear. Gwyn chuckled, set down her glass and began fondling the cat’s head.
Azriel threw her a pointed look. “I would have jumped onto your lap an hour ago if that’s what’s getting your attention.”
She replied, “Oh, but that would only work if you were a little hairier and a little less heavy.”
Azriel gasped, offended. “Are you calling me fat?”, his hands found the hem of his shirt to lift it, revealing disgustingly perfect muscles underneath. He looked at them in fake sadness. As if he didn’t know what he was doing to her and her breathing.
“I didn’t eat three main courses of take away in the time it took me to eat only one.”, she countered. Shadow, seemingly annoyed with the loud noises her owners made, tippled back to the bedroom.
Azriel winced, “Yeah, true. I had to skip lunch today, so I had to get in some more calories with this.” Gwyn felt a little pull at her heart at his words. He was overworking himself, just like she thought he would.
“That much going on, huh?”, she moved closer to him, throwing her legs across his lap and massaging his scalp for a little relaxation. Azriel extended his arm to pull her closer to his side, then he closed his eyes and melted into Gwyn’s capable fingers.
Apparently, he didn’t want to talk about it. But that was fine, she understood that now. Azriel was the quiet sort, the one to think thoroughly about something before sharing it with his loved ones, usually to not burden or stress them. She also knew that in times when he wouldn’t allow for any mental support, she could settle for some physical affection.
They both sat engulfed in each other’s company for a while, Gwyn’s hands and fingernails drawing lazy circles in Azriel’s hair, while they refocused on their show and occasionally nipped at their wine. A newcomer to the Island was introduced now, another one of those picture-perfect males that, before she met Az, she was sure didn’t exist in the wild. He had a weird name, Hunt, but the girls were all over him immediately.
“All the girls and even half the guys look like they’re about to drool on the poor guy.”, Azriel chuckled, “Reminds me of you, when we started dating.”
Gwyn sat up with a start, pulling away her legs and hands in the process. Azriel let out a little whine at that and tried to catch her limbs in midair to pull her back.
“I. Never. Drooled. Especially not over you.”, she argued, bringing some space between them for emphasize.
“Oh, nevermind I guess I worded it wrong. What would you call nearly stumbling over your own feet, blushing like mad and drawing little cinnamon drawings in my coffee every time you saw me at the café? Simping, maybe?”
Gwyn let out a loud laugh, just because everything he just said was nothing but the truth. “Damn, it was that obvious, yeah?”
“Quite, but only after two weeks or so.”, he allowed her at least some of her dignity.
Gwyn remembered the time well. She had never felt so alive, buzzing with excitement every morning she got to work. It was at a time too, when she was new in town and slightly intimidated and homesick. Working as a waitress at the Dawn café was her way of earning some extra money while she started her internship in the archives of the city. It had been the best decision of her life, despite the early morning shifts and the constant temptation of the little cakes and sweets they served. She had not only met Azriel there, but also her coworker and now best friend Emerie. She smiled to herself thinking of the time. She could almost smell the bitter aroma of coffee.
 “Gwyn? Where is the new batch of the cinnamon rolls?”, Emerie called from behind the counter.
“Oh, I damn it. I left them in the back. Sorry Em!”, Gwyn replied, making an apologetic face towards her very friendly, but sometimes very strict coworker. She had been slow all morning and apparently that didn’t change when she got to work at 5:50 am.
She was currently wiping down the tables near the ginormous windows to prepare for the café to open. It was only her second week of employment, but she loved it here. The place had such an inviting atmosphere, the costumers were mostly friendly and the coworkers too, her favorite of them now coming out from behind the counter to turn their sign form ‘closed’ to ‘open’.
“Would you stay in front for the first hour or so while I manage our stock in the back?”, Em asked, already turning back to the door. The first hour is always manageable, as only very few people braved the streets at 6am. She nodded her understanding and took her place behind the counter, preparing the coffee.
The first few minutes, nothing noteworthy happened. A couple came in to buy two croissants, then a maintenance worker asked for his coffee to go. Gwyn just found her work flow, now slowly starting to look and think more alive. Then she saw him.
It was a bit like a shadow entered the bright and lively Dawn. An impertinent wall of black against the pastel colors of the café. And it, no he, moved towards the counter. To her.
“Good morning. Can I get a large cup of coffee to drink here?”, his voice was flat. Gwyn was awake suddenly. How- just how??
“Morning, of course”, thankfully she managed to make her voice sound semi-normal, “would you like anything else with your coffee? Maybe something to eat?”
“Nah, that’ll be it.”, he handed her five pounds with a slight smile and turned towards a seat at the window with a “Keep the change.”
Gwyn moved through the steps to brew the coffee on auto pilot, before making her way to the impossibly hot costumer. With a thanks, he took the coffee and proceeded to swipe on his phone.
Gwyn hid behind the counter. Now she finally had time to process this guy.
He sat half faced towards her, and she tried to check him out in the least intrusive and annoying way possible. Jet black hair, short in the neck, longer on top of the head, so that some bits slightly curled. He had broad shoulders and some kind of tattoo sticking out beneath the seam of a black uniform. She didn’t recognize it, maybe something to do with law enforcement? But the most striking of it all was his face. It was perfection, like some of the Greek god statues she had seen copies of in the archives had come to life to grace the people on earth. Sharp in every feature, just his eyes softened his look a bit. They had the color of honey.
She needed to get a grip. And fast, too.
More costumers streamed in a couple of minutes after the arrival of the god. That gave her something to do for a while. The café now filled with more voices and laughter. But she still couldn’t help to glance at him every now and then, just to verify that she didn’t dream him up.
When Emerie joined her to serve at 8am, and the god was already gone, she found a calm minute to describe him to her.
Emerie laughed at her face. “Not you too, please. Everyone is obsessed with that guy. You definitely didn’t make him up.”
“So he comes here more often?”, she inquired. Gwyn hadn’t seen him in her first week at all.
“Yeah, he is a regular. Sometimes he ditched for one-two weeks, but he always comes back. Maybe he is out of town sometimes.”, she glanced at Gwyn and leaned in to whisper, “Do you plan on making a move? No-one dared until now.”
Gwyn didn’t know. She really didn’t. She used to be good with people, with guys - something happened last year that made her keep her distance. But maybe it was time to close that distance again.
 Azriel’s phone rang, interrupting some well-needed one on one time. Gwyn let out a small whine as Azriel detangled himself from her to reach for the coffee table. Immediately, the sweet, attentive and fun boyfriend disappeared to make way for the stone-faced agent.
“Night speaking.”, he answered the phone, threw a little apologetic look at Gwyn and left for the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Gwyn sat up, missing the comfortable weight of her boyfriend’s body on her, and combed through her hair with her fingers. She pleaded to the gods or whomever will listen for Azriel to not have to go into work right now. His stupid boss with his stupid emergencies interrupted more than one date night during the time of their relationship. Azriel was, apparently, too vital for the operation to work too long without him. She smiled a little, the thought making her very proud of him.
But he also desperately needed some time to relax. Preferably with her. Even more preferably in her.
Azriel’s muffled voice receded behind the bedroom wall. He opened the door, and plopped down on the sofa with a sigh. Gwyn prepared herself for everything from ‘bad’ to ‘worst’, bad being he had to go into work tonight for a few hours, ‘worst’ being he had to pack. And packing usually brought a two week separation with it.
“So, I will need to do some work on the computer now. They want my approval for a mission plan.”, he threw her a pained glance, “I’m so sorry, love. I will make it up to you later, okay? Will you stay up?”
Gwyn kissed him softly. It really wasn’t his fault that he was so damn good at his job, and she didn’t want him to feel to down because of it. “Sure, that sounds fine. At least I get to keep you in close proximity.”
“Thanks for understanding.”, he took her hand to press a kiss on the back of her hand and then made his way to the small office.
Gwyn had some alone time at her hands now. And she knew exactly how she wanted to spend it. She sneaked to the kitchen, found what she was looking for with a triumphant grin, and plopped back on the couch. She turned on her favorite old-school movie and then worked her way through the sweet treat she brought herself from the kitchen. A chocolate croissant.
She always had a sweet tooth. And the time she spent working in the café taught her more than one thing about baking them. The croissant was the costumer’s favorite too, and she understood why with all her heart and soul. Well, one costumer hadn’t been too keen on it. But then again, he hadn’t been too keen on any of the baked goods there.
It had infuriated her at the time. Azriel’s stoic persistence on the one cup of coffee, with nothing sweet to counter the bitterness of it. She had tried multiple times to convince him on a cake, without any luck. If he could see her now, he would sure as hell make a comment.
 “Morning! The usual?”, Gwyn greeted the god from her place behind the counter as he stepped into the empty café.
“Good morning. The usual please.”, he confirmed with one of those stupidly pretty half smirks he liked to present her with. Today marked the 7th time that he drank his coffee with Gwyn being the barista. Not that she counted.
The god proceeded to place the usual five pound note on the table. The coffee actually just cost half of that, but he insisted on giving her the tip every time. Gwyn couldn’t help but smile at him when she took the money and thanked him. She noted, very pleased with herself, that he seemed to linger near Gwyn longer each day before taking his place by the window.
She busied herself making the coffee.
Gwyn had decided yesterday evening. That she wanted to make her move. She arranged her hair more carefully this morning, throwing the locks of auburn hair into a bun, with a few strands to frame her face. She put on her favorite good-luck necklace. Her makeup stayed minimal, but she put on some highlighter to let her face glow. All that was a good start, but she had no idea how to actually interact with him. Should she just ask him out on a date? Should she try to flirt with him before?
As she eyed the coffee and the little layer of foam that coated the surface, a brilliant idea struck her. She would go for the slow, steady approach. Her way of flirting.
She took the cinnamon they usually used to sprinkle the hot chocolate with and went to work.
After a minute she proudly admired her work. The cinnamon was arranged on the foam in the shape of a crescent with a little star in the corner. Carefully, she brought her creation to the god. She placed it. But was too chicken to stay there and wait for his reaction, so she fled back behind the counter. Baby steps, she reminded herself.
That day, and a little shiver went down Gwyn’s spine remembering it even after months had passed, he went out of his way to say his goodbyes to her (and Emerie). He had made his way back to the counter to do so, even though more costumers were flowing in the café.
Gwyn was ecstatic. Was it the equivalent of a bold pick-up line? No, but it was something delicate, something sweet to take the bitter edge from his coffee. And little did she know, it took the edge of the bitterness of his life too.
The days passed in a whirl of activity. Gwyn worked hard at the café, the archives and during her therapy lessons. She figured that, with a possibility of a date on the horizon, she should put in some extra effort in that area of her life. And then hopefully not get triggered if he decides to put a hand on her back or something, should they actually go on a date.
Everything went well. Everything was just cherries on top for her. Each day that the god took his coffee at the Dawn, she created a little picture for him with the cinnamon. She built her skill slowly, going from the basic ‘sun, moon and star’ to more elaborate motives. One morning, she even managed to draw a little cat. And in the evenings, that where before occupied by heavy silence and sleepless nights, she found herself dreaming of the next morning.
But he never said anything about the cinnamon art. He was polite, charming, but never took a metaphorical step towards her. Maybe he thought that’s how she treats every costumer? That the art was a new thing the café trained its baristas in?
On Wednesday morning, 6.25am, when the god entered the café to pay for and drink his coffee, she decided to be bold. To be unmistakably forward.
As the god took his seat, she took the cinnamon and wrote a little message for him, instead of her usually art. She thought the message through a long time, it would have to be brief, cut straight to the point she wanted to get across. But what did she want to get across? That she wanted a date? But that didn’t fit the cup.
‘ur cute’, was what ended up on the foam. It allowed him some room of interpretation and wasn’t pushy, but still conveyed her interest. With her heart almost beating out of her chest and into the coffee, she placed the cup in front of him. Damn, was it a good idea? He looked up from his phone to say his thanks, but Gwyn was already turned around and made her way to the back of the café.
“Emerie, Emerie, Emerie”, she squealed, trying desperately to stay quiet as she found her coworker backing a new tray of almond cookies.
“What is it?”, Emerie turned around in shock, eyes wide, “did something happen? Are you hurt?”
“No, not exactly. My pride might take a hit in a few minutes and I’m not sure if I am ready for that.”, she then told Emerie what she did, pacing up and down in front of the oven. “Can you please take over outside, I’ll finish the baking. But please only call for me when he left the café.”
Emerie agreed, but smiled at the antics of her friend. She was so bold, so unapologetically herself, but that guy made her freak.
Gwyn gave her a brief hug of thanks, both girls going back to work after the intrusion. After half an hour, Emerie called her back to the front.
“He’s gone. Are you okay with cleaning his table, or should I?”, Em gestured to the table by the window. Gwyn wasn’t afraid of it, as long as its occupant was not in the picture.
She made her way to the table; lifted the cup to inspect the napkin underneath and see if it was still usable, but found it used. But not in the usual way. Written on the napkin with a small, accurate handwriting was a phone number. Gwyn froze and stared, and stared, and stared, until she fully understood the message of the number. She brought a hand to her mouth to cover her grin, also mentally keeping herself from jumping up and down in excitement in a half-full café. He had left his number, for her.
Or was it for someone else? The grin left Gwyn as fast as it came a second ago. It should be addressed at her, she was usually serving him. But maybe he meant it for Emerie? Or Jada, the other barista that sometimes worked the morning shift with them?
There was only one way to find out. Gwyn pocketed the napkin, and during the day, she always found herself toying with it in her downtime. She would call him soon.
 ****
“When I’m finished in the bathroom, I want you on your knees in front of the bed, not a single piece of clothing in slight, understood?”, Azriel murmured close to Gwyn’s ear, before letting her free of his embrace and making his way to the bathroom door. Gwyn preened with excitement. Her boyfriend had finished work 10 minutes ago, went straight to her to pull her into a passionate kiss, and somehow, they ended up here. With his command being her pleasure.
Gwyn was buzzing with anticipation, she took her clothing off one by one on the way to the bedroom, before kneeling on the carpet floor. She immensely enjoyed the games they played, be it with Azriel in the dominant role or herself. Gwyn never thought that she would be able to have sex the way that Azriel proposed to her a few months after they started sleeping together, but with the right person and the level of trust that they had, it was exhilarating.
Azriel entered the room, now only his joggers, his artful tattoos on display. He stayed silent for a while, letting his love sit through her increasing nerves. Then he finally spoke.
“I really didn’t want to have to punish you tonight, you know?”
Shit, what did she do wrong? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, but nothing she did the past two days would be deserving of a punishment. She didn’t dare speak however, she didn’t have permission yet anyways. With her knees sinking in the carpet and her hands met together behind her back, she stayed perfectly still in the hopes that that appeased him somehow. It didn’t.
“But little brats who leave a trail of clothes on the floor don’t deserve anything else, I’m afraid.”, Azriel had paced behind her back now, out of sight.
Gwyn mentally both scolded and congratulated herself for leaving the clothes on the floor. Scolding, because Azriel was one to see through with his threats, and congratulating, because Azriel saw through with his threats.
He gathered Gwyn’s hair in his big hands from his position, tying it in a ponytail. His fingers brushed her neck, making her shiver. Azriel moved again, this time to kneel in front of her. His fingers now found her chin to lift it. So she could stare into his honey eyes which held a darker cast over them. She dared to hold his gaze.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself, love?”, his voice matched his eye color as he called her by her nickname.
“I’m sorry for leaving my clothing on the floor. It won’t happen again, Sir.”, her voice betrayed her. It quivered slightly under his intense gaze. His fingers moved from her chin to lightly caress her throat now, dipping to her collarbones every now and then. Gwyn already felt wetness coating her sex without him even touching her much.
“Mh, what a nice little apology. I’m not sure you meant it though. Stand.”, he ordered, raising up himself to tower over her.
Gwyn scrambled to her feet, muscles straining to keep her hands still firmly behind her back. She had learned that particular lesson two weeks ago.
He came closer to her, hands to her waist and mouth by her ear, “You remember the safe word?”, he broke character just enough to remind her of her way out, should she not want this.
Oh, but she did.
“Red, Sir.”, she murmured. Azriel nodded.
“Lay on the bed, stomach facing the sheets. You may use your hands.”, Gwyn obeyed. He still wanted to play a little nice today if he allowed her to use her hands for this. She was so relieved, she didn’t notice Azriel going over to the wardrobe to pull out a blindfold. Nice indeed.
Gwyn felt the bed dip slightly as he lowered himself on it. His hand wandered featherlight from her ankles, over her thighs, grazed her ass to find the middle of her back and continue to her neck. He found the ponytail and pulled to lift her face from the sheet with enough force to make it hurt slightly, but never too much. The command was clear though: hold your head up.
Azriel tied the blindfold over her eyes, making her effectively defenseless against him. The anticipation nearly killed her. In this compromising position, it will take Az only a couple of well-placed caresses for her to scream out his name in pleasure.
She felt his body hovering over her. The she felt his lips. First placing on kiss to her neck, then her shoulder blades, slowly working downwards. If that was supposed to be her punishment, she would gladly take it. But she never got away so easily.
Az had worked himself to her spine, licking over the spot before receding from her body completely. Gwyn’s breathing was heavy already, her breath further restricted through lying on her stomach.
“You’re going to count to five for me, love.”, he commanded, voice low and quiet.
Then she felt a zap of pain going through her as Azriel’s hand connected sharply with her rear. Gwyn whimpered, already mentally readying herself for the next blow, but instead his hands lightly brushed over the spot to soothe it. He knew exactly where to strike to make it good for her, knew his strength enough to not hurt. Never hurt seriously.
She found enough breath to mutter, ”One.”
The next slap echoed through her body, shock waves going up her spine and straight down to her throbbing clit. The burn was reduced again immediately with Azriel stroking over it. “Two.”, her voice was barely audible. But only he needed to hear her.
“You are doing so good for me love.”, he praised her, leaning down to place a little kiss on both of her cheeks before resuming to paint them red with his hands. Gwyn counted down the last three of the slaps, body deliciously aching, with Azriel praising her strength. All that was left of her brain was liquid. When the last of the slaps resided, Azriel’s lips came down to kiss her spine again.
“Good girl.”, he muttered. Gwyn practically glowed from making him proud, her praise kink nearly as strong as Azriel’s. She felt him crawling up her body again, both of his hands caging her in, hovering over her.
And then – nothing.
All she felt was his body over her, his heat radiating into her naked frame. But he didn’t touch her, he didn’t say anything, didn’t undress himself. It was infuriating. She knew he was doing it on purpose, to leave her all riled up and wondering. He wanted to have her begging. And Gwyn was already at the point where she would do exactly that.
“Azriel, please.”, she whispered into the thin air, hoping it would reach him.
“Azriel please -What?”, he shot back immediately, voice hard and unyielding.
Gwyn gulped. “Please touch me.”
Azriel touched her. On her fucking hands. Gwyn groaned in frustration and swore she could actually feel his shit-eating grin over her shoulder.
“One more try, love?”, he coaxed.
“Please touch me between my legs.”, she managed to get out before going still again in anticipation.
His lips came to her ear once more to whisper, “Spread them for me then.” Still on her stomach, she obeyed and spread her legs, whining at the loss of friction that had been her only form of release for the last minutes, but begging for his touch.
Then, Azriel’s broad fingers finally, finally, wandered between her legs, drawing little circles on the inside of her thighs. What he felt there made him chuckle softly, “Already so wet for me that you dripped down your legs? And here I was, thinking the punishment was a real punishment.”
“Always for you, Sir.”, Gwyn breathed, hoping the submissive admission would incline him to play nice. A rumble went through Azriel’s chest at her words, and his fingers grazed her sex. Gwyn couldn’t help moaning. And she didn’t stop for a long time after she started.
Azriel continued to move his fingers up and down her sex, spreading her lips to have a better access to her clit. He honed in on it, alternating between pressing down lightly and circling. He moved through her with ease, thanks to her wetness. Gwyn’s breathing turned ragged, one of her hands wandered across the sheets to find something to hold on to, something to ground her against these feelings that made her spiral sky-high. She found Azriel’s hand that lifted his body off hers, and interlaced her fingers with his. He allowed the contact. Technically, actively seeking out his touch was forbidden, but she couldn’t care less as his finger found her entrance and circled it, occasionally dipping in, but staying way too shallow.
“Sir, please. I want you inside me.”, it took everything in Gwyn to form that whole sentence and remembering her manners.
“As my good girl wishes.”, this time it was Azriel who obeyed her. He never could refuse her for too long. Two of his fingers stretched her, inner walls fluttering and contracting at the sudden contact. He pumped them in and out for a while, sometimes curling inside of her. His fingers sometimes drew out for a moment to pay some more attention to her clit again, before delving back in. Gwyn didn’t hear the wet sound she produced over her moaning and whimpering.
Suddenly, she felt a loss of contact, leaving her body yearning and shaking. Two strong hands gripped her hips and flipped her over, so she lay on her back, legs still spread. She was beginning to panic at her vulnerability. Her sight was taken from her for too long.
“Sir, can I see you please?”, it was worth a try. Azriel must have heard the slight edge in her voice as she felt gentle fingers prying the blindfold away from her eyes and over her head. Gwyn took a moment to adjust her eyes again, even though the room was only dimly lit. Azriel hovered over her, his knees bracketed on either side of her hips. “You okay love?”, he was still clad in his joggers that now bore an impressive bulge, chest heaving just as heavily as hers was. Gwyn nodded her okay, but he wasn’t having any of it. “You know to use your words when I ask that.”, he scolded, but his eyes were soft.
“I’m okay.”, Gwyn breathed and even managed to show him a little smile. Azriel nodded, sufficiently happy. He was quick to connect their lips together in a fiery kiss, tongues darting out to play with each other for a moment. Gwyn wanted nothing more to sink her hands in his hair, letting them roam his shoulders and back, on his chest trailing downwards.
“Go on, touch me.”, Azriel mumbled in between kisses to her mouth and her neck. He had this uncanny ability to know exactly what she wanted when she wanted it. But Gwyn used the freedom he granted her to explore his chest, grazing her fingers over the taunt muscles and extracting a shiver from him. By the looks of it, not only she was ready to explode any second.
“What do you want love?”
Gwyn didn’t even have to think. “I want you inside me now, fast and hard.”
When Azriel raised his eyebrows at her, she added her “Sir” hastily. Apparently, that was enough for him now as he pushed himself up from her to step out of his joggers, the considerable length of his cock springing free. He touched himself, pumping slowly up and down a few times while his eyes trailed over Gwyn’s spread-out body. “My gorgeous little girl.”, he mumbled, probably more to himself than to her, but Gwyn still smiled at the endearment.
He was over and in her within the span of two seconds. Gwyn vision blurred, pressure already building in her lower back and abdominal parts as he slid home, right to the hilt. Azriel brought his forehead down to rest against hers, eyes closed, and pounded into her. Gwyn loved every second of it, craned her head up to kiss him on the lips again, to have all her senses surrounded by him.
“Fuck, Gwyn.”, he mumbled, still sinking his cock deep into her with every thrust. Gwyn wrapped her legs around his waist and tilted her hips slightly, sending both of them groaning at the new deeper angle this allowed. His thrusts became even faster and harder, until Gwyn only managed to murmur his name over and over and over again.
Until the pressure that built couldn’t built any longer and came crashing down on her. With one last “Azriel!”, breathing labored, she came undone under him. Azriel followed a few thrusts after her, spilling his release into her with a loud roar.
After a few seconds he slid out of her carefully and plopped on the bed next to her, chest still heaving. That pretty half smirk grazed his lips as he looked over to her. “Everything okay?”, Gwyn nodded, herself also smiling.
Azriel got up, walked around the bed to Gwyn’s side, and before she could comprehend what his intention was, he had lifted her into his arms. He carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the toilet to pee (which Gwyn learned the hard way to always do after sexual activities) while cleaning himself up and throwing on a pair of boxer briefs.
“Do you want to finish watching your movie, or would you rather go to sleep now?”, he asked while Gwyn sneakily threw one of his larger shirts over her. That was her favorite part of aftercare, his scent and warmth engulfing her even after they had gone to bed.
“I’m not too tired yet, lets watch the movie.”, she answered, brushing past him to the living area. “’Not too tired’, that hurt Berdara. I should give you more work next time.”, he grumbled, following her and slapping her rear lightly.
Gwyn laughed. “You could do that, but next time it’s my turn, in case you don’t remember.”, she smiled wickedly, already forming plans on how to make him beg.
“How could I forget, Miss.”, he replied. Apparently, he was already warming up.
They snuggled together on the couch for the remainder of the movie. Gwyn almost drifting to sleep, but she wouldn’t allow Azriel the satisfaction of that. After the movie had ended, and both settled into bed, Azriel still had the nerve to take out his phone, probably checking his always full email account.
“Will you actually get the day off tomorrow, or will they find an excuse to steal you away from me again?”, she asked into the dark.
“I’m all yours tomorrow, come what may. But I still need to keep up to date.”, Azriel reached his hand out to stroke her arm soothingly. Gwyn propped herself up on her elbow to steal a little glance at Azriel’s phone, but instead of his work stuff, his gallery was opened. He was probably searching for some work-related screenshots, but Gwyn had a different idea. Quickly, she snatched the phone away from him to open one particular folder of pictures. She remembered him calling her a simp earlier this evening and found the perfect material for a counterattack.
Azriel had a folder on his phone dedicated only to the various different coffee arts she did for him. He never missed one, starting from the crescent moon, of course including the cat, and ending with the ‘ur cute’. Triumphant, she showed him the screen. “Remember calling me a simp?”
Azriel laughed and grabbed for the phone, scrolling his way through the pictures. “I remember that one, it took me all day to figure out what it was supposed to be.”
Gwyn gasped in mocking shock. “What do you mean, it’s most definitely a tree!”
“But it could also be a puddle, or a cloud, or…”, he started, interrupted from the pillow Gwyn threw in his face. His laugh was muffled.
“It hurts me, how non-appreciative you are of my art and love for you.”, she informed him, propping the pillow back under her head.
Azriel leaned towards her to peck her nose. “I am very appreciative of it, you know that. It used to be the highlight of my day. Of course now, every hour I am with you is the highlight.” All laughter was forgotten, replaced by a deep understanding of each other. “And I was obsessed with you even before you started with the art.”
“I KNEW it!”, she didn’t know it at the time, but she could pretend to have the upper hand now.
She did remember her nerves the day she decided to call his number. How she asked him out on a date and then had to go to a boxing class to work away the adrenalin that was left from it. But her story had a happy ending, and she could laugh about her freakout in hindsight.
 He didn’t pick up. After it took Gwyn a meditation practice and a little sip of wine to finally dial the number, he didn’t pick up. But it also felt wrong to leave a message, she would have to be more prepared for that. Like, actually writing out a little speech to recite after the beep. And she just knew that she would hopelessly ramble on, sabotaging her shot at the god.
Gwyn was currently sat by the little reading nook at the window, looking out to the busy street. Was 8pm a weird time to call someone? She just finished eating dinner, her work at the city archives had run late today. Maybe his work kept him occupied too?
Gwyn tried to pick up a book to let some time pass before she’d try again. Or would she come off as too pushy, calling twice in one evening? She put down the book and settled to pace up and down her window instead. She even crewed her nails a little.
When her phone rang, she nearly jumped. Taking a few steadying breaths before picking up, she finally accepted the call. “Hello, it’s Gwyn.”
“Gwyn! WHAT did he say?”, it was in fact not the god, but Emerie screaming through the phone right now. Gwyn’s stomach did a little drop.
“Emerie, you scared the crap out of me. I tried to reach him but he didn’t pick up. I want to wait a few minutes before trying again?”
“Oh dear, and I bet you got all hyped up now that I called you.”, she laughed, “well, maybe, if you call him now, you’ll be more calm.” Gwyn doubted that.
The girls chatted for a couple of minutes, Emerie telling her about the rest of her day and that she actually made plans for a blind date. Apparently, she had more luck in love than Gwyn tonight. They said their goodbyes.
Gwyn dialed again.
And, again, reached the voicemail.
Signing, she gave up on the thought of being able to ask him on a date today. Her phone on the coffee table, she readied herself for bed. Doubt started creeping in on her. What if he changed his mind and didn’t want anything to do with her?
Just when she settled in the sheets with a nice calming cup of tea, her phone went off again. Gwyn made sure to check the caller ID this time.
“Hello, its Gwyn.”
“Gwyn?”, she would have recognized that voice anywhere by now, “Hey, it’s the guy from Dawn.”
“I know, I know.”, every cell in her body was working on not making this awkward, “I tired to reach you earlier.”
“Yeah, sorry I missed that. I usually have to lock my private phone away when I’m at work.”, the god explained. “I’m glad you called though. I was wondering if just leaving my number would convince you to do so.”
“Well, it did. I am glad my coffee art convinced you.”, a smile crept into Gwyn’s face and she sat up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest. She was actually speaking with him. And it was surprisingly easy to do so. Very un-god like.
“It did. I would have asked you out in person, but I didn’t see you again in the café after you served me. And I also didn’t want to ask your colleague to fetch you like some kind of creep.”, Gwyn could practically feel his half smirk through her speaker.
“I appreciate that.”, a little pause, then she added, “So, you wanted to ask me out?”
“Straight to the point yeah?”, she could definitely feel his smirk, “Gwyn, I think you are the cutest person I have ever met in my life and I would love to take you out on a date. This Friday, if you’re free. And if you want to, of course.”
Gwyn reigned herself in to not interrupt him with a deafening “YES” while he was talking to her. Composed, at least she hoped that’s what she sounded like, she answered, “I would love to go out with you. Friday works just fine. I’m at work until 5pm.”
They quickly exchanged their addresses and worked out a time and a place to meet on Friday night. Just before they ended their call, a though struck Gwyn. She had been so used to calling him ‘god’ in her mind that she didn’t even notice.
“Well, I am looking forward to see you. By the way, what’s your name?”
The god laughed, “Fuck, I didn’t even tell you that, did I?” Gwyn liked to pretend that was because he was nervous for this call as well. “My name is Azriel.”
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thearvariblues · 3 years
Text
Sing Me a Song
“You Geralt of Rivia’s bard?”
Jaskier looks up from his notepad and grins at the man who’s just sat at the opposite side of the table.
“Technically, I used to be,” the bard says, taking a sip of his ale. “We had a tiny misunderstanding last year. I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, though, I’m just giving him some time to cool down and wallow in self-pity.”
Jaskier frowns, because his brain has finally caught up with his mouth and informs him that even though the man who asked the question is very pretty (and he is – a bit short, but lean and clearly very agile, brown-skinned, with dark, wavy hair and stunningly unnatural green eyes), he also has got two big, scary swords strapped to his back, way too many scars and has, in fact, only one green eye, the other being covered by an eye patch, presumably missing.
And then there’s the Cat school medallion on his chest.
As Geralt would say… fuck.
“Unless you’re here to kidnap me and torture me to lure him into a trap. If that’s the case, I’ve never met a Geralt of Rivia in my life. Also, if you harm a hair on my head, he will hunt you down and kill you, very slowly and painfully. Just a heads up,” Jaskier smiles, utterly failing to sound at least a little bit threatening.
“Thanks for the warning,” the Witcher laughs. “But I actually need you to write me a song.”
“Sorry, I’m afraid this bard already has a Witcher to praise,” Jaskier protests, shaking his head firmly.
“Ugh. Who says I want praise?” the man says, making a face. “I just can’t seem to find a friend of mine, so I need to make him find me.”
“With a song? Do I look like a fucking pied piper?” Jaskier smirks.
“A little, yeah.”
“Fair enough. What’s in it for me?”
“What do you think is going to happen once Geralt hears that his bard has found himself a new muse?” the Witcher grins.
“Oh,” Jaskier says, chuckling. “Oh, but that’s good.”
“Are you in, then?”
“Absolutely. And, uhm… What did you say your name was?”
“By the gods, where are my manners?” the Witcher laughs. “I’m Aiden.”
*
Geralt places two tankards of ale on the table and sits down with a grunt.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting old, Wolf,” his brother Lambert smirks and promptly pulls one of the tankards closer. “Because that almost sounded like Vesemir when he’s trying to get up from his chair.”
“You’re so fucking funny,” Geralt murmurs.
“I know, right?” Lambert grins, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind his ear. “So, how’s life on the Path without your beloved bard?”
“Not my bard.”
“So pretty fucking terrible, eh?” Lambert chuckles.
“Fuck off, Lambert.”
“You’re being very nice and friendly today, you know?”
“I bought you a drink. So shut up and… drink.”
Lambert shrugs and for once does what he’s told. Within a few seconds, half of the tankard’s content vanishes.
“If it’s any consolation, life without my Cat is also pretty fucking unbearable,” he says then.
“Hm.”
“Oh, really, Geralt? You’re using your famous hm against me? Me, your brother?!”
Geralt groans.
“By the gods… Why can’t I just run into Eskel for once? Why does it always have to be you?”
“You’re just lucky, I guess.”
“Lucky. Yeah.”
Lambert rolls his eyes and focuses on his ale again – until the local bard grabs his lute and starts playing a slow, romantic ballad. Lambert growls.
“Fuck, I hate that song!”
“Why?” Geralt blinks, because he’s never heard the song before, and to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t really sound that bad.
“A brown-skinned woman with dark hair who’s seemingly killed, then comes back to life already plotting her revenge, only to find out that her lover’s already avenged her? Always reminds me of Aiden.”
“Aiden wasn’t exactly… A woman, was he?”
“He also hasn’t come back to life, as far as I know,” Lambert mutters.
“Who wrote it?” Geralt frowns, listening carefully. “It sounds like Jaskier’s work.”
“Some Master Dandelion. Never heard of him, but it seems he’s very popular now.”
“Hmmm…”
“Oh, not again!” Lambert groans.
“It just… It really does sound like Jaskier’s song.”
“You just fucking miss the bard, Geralt, that’s all.”
“No. No, I actually think…”
“That might be exactly the problem,” Lambert says and places his empty tankard back on the table. “The second round’s on me.”
*
“Seems like your plan’s not working as intended,” Jaskier comments. He’s spent weeks traveling with Aiden, and they still haven’t even heard about another Witcher trying to find them.
“I’m aware,” Aiden mutters, chewing his dinner without even noticing its taste – which is, honestly, probably for the best. “Could you be, like… less subtle?”
Jaskier shrugs.
“I suppose.”
“Fine,” Aiden nods. “Do it.”
*
“It’s a man now,” Geralt frowns, listening to the song he’s heard countless times already. “That’s new.”
“Looks like Master Dandelion might like to, uhm, dual wield,” Lambert snorts.
“It still sounds like Jaskier’s work.”
“Does Jaskier like to dual wield?”
“Hmm,” Geralt says dreamily.
“All the more reason to apologize, then, eh?”
“Oh, shut up, Lambert…”
*
“Still not working!” Aiden groans. He’s been waiting for three months for his Wolf to find him, and to no avail.
“I could, you know… Try something more obvious,” Jaskier offers.
“Please.”
*
“It’s a cat now,” Geralt blinks. “Dark-skinned, dark-haired… cat.”
Lambert sighs.
“Yeah, I hate those fucking metaphors.”
*
“I’m starting to think I should have just… kept trying to find him,” Aiden sighs, staring out of the tavern’s window.
Jaskier, cheeks still flushed from his performance, downs his ale and shakes his head.
“Don’t give up hope just yet,” he says. “I’ve already made a few changes to the song.”
“Oh, have you?” Aiden smirks. “Does it now say Lambert, I’m alive you moron, stop hiding and fucking find me?”
“Well, not yet… But almost.”
“Great. I can’t wait to hear it.”
*
Lambert is staring at yet another local bard singing the fucking ballad. He doesn’t even blink. Geralt is getting a little worried that his brother’s brain might have actually exploded.
“It says a Cat Witcher now,” he says, hoping it would get a reaction out of Lambert.
The redhead finally blinks. That’s probably good.
“A Cat Witcher who comes back to life only to find out his Wolf lover has already avenged him,” Geralt adds.
Lambert blinks again.
“And you know, I’m almost sure that this Master Dandelion is just Jaskier’s new alias.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Lambert mutters when the song finally comes to its end.
“Which one of them?” Geralt smirks.
“Both of them!” Lambert growls. “I swear to gods, if I find out your stupid bard stole my Cat…”
“Excuse me, madam,” Geralt says to the innkeeper who’s just brought them their dinner. “Where did your bard learn this song?”
“That sappy ballad?” the innkeeper frowns. “From this Master Dandelion himself. He passed through the town last week with a Witcher.”
“And Master Dandelion…”
“You know the bard that calls himself Jaskier? It’s him with a fancy hat on,” she smirks.
“About this Witcher,” Lambert growls. “Does he look like in the song?”
“Pretty much, yeah. Kind of small for a Witcher, and almost too pretty, you know, but we had a little griffin problem and he slayed that beast like it was nothing, so…”
“I’m so gonna kill them both,” Lambert murmurs while Geralt has to try very hard not to chuckle.
“Would you happen to know where were they heading?” he asks.
“I would,” the woman says and looks at the Witcher expectantly.
“I see,” Geralt sighs. “You have another monster problem, don’t you?”
“Well. It turns out the griffin probably had a mate…”
“Of course it fucking did,” Geralt nods and picks up his fork. He simply refuses to deal with this with an empty stomach…
*
Jaskier critically eyes the clothes he’s picked for tonight’s performance.
“What do you think, Aiden?” he asks his companion. “Isn’t the purple a bit too much? It’s a small town, after all. Wouldn’t the steel blue look better?”
“I don’t know, I like the red one best,” Aiden shrugs from his spot on the bed.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Reminds you of Lambert’s hair,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “Melitele’s tits, I wish he’d find us already, because this is getting really–”
As if on cue, the door of the room slams open and a big, red-haired man walks in.
“You fucking bitch!” he yells when he sees Aiden.
The dark-haired Witcher beams and gets to his feet.
“Lambs!”
“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Jaskier nods.
Lambert growls and grabs Aiden by the collar.
“Asshole!” he hisses. “I fucking mourned you!”
“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet,” Aiden smiles.
Lambert pushes him against the wall, so hard that Aiden grunts.
“I cried for you!”
“In my defense, it wasn’t exactly my fault,” Aiden smiles.
Jaskier inches towards the door.
“I guess I’ll just… leave you two to it.”
Needless to say, Lambert ignores him completely.
“I fucking avenged you!”
“Yes, that was very kind of you,” Aiden grins, utterly unaffected by Lambert’s angry face so close to his own. “You saved me a lot of trouble.”
Lambert groans, buries his face in Aiden’s shoulder and sighs deeply.
“You fucker,” he mutters.
“Yeah, I missed you too, puppy,” Aiden smiles, wrapping his arms around Lambert.
Jaskier, who’s already standing in the doorway, places his hand on his heart and takes a deep breath.
“Oh,” he whispers. “I shall write the most beautiful ballad about this… Ow!”
He’s unceremoniously dragged out of the room and this time it’s his turned to be slammed against the wall by a big, angry Witcher – but this one is white-haired and dressed all in black.
“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaims, his face brightening up.
“You won’t write a fucking thing,” Geralt growls.
“Is that so? May I ask why, dear heart?”
“Because you’re mine. My bard. And if I ever find out you’re writing about another Witcher again–”
“Then what?” Jaskier asks, cocking his head. “But before you answer, I’d like to remind you that I am not yours anymore, as you have made it quite clear on the mountain that you are not interested in having me as a companion–”
Jaskier is effectively shut up by Geralt’s lips pressing against his with determination that makes it absolutely clear that Geralt hasn’t merely lost his balance and happened to be falling in Jaskier’s general direction.
“Mine,” he growls.
“Well,” Jaskier sighs, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s hair. “When you put it like that… Fuck the mountain, I suppose.”
“Fuck the mountain,” Geralt agrees. “But I’m sorry. For what I said.”
“Apology very much accepted,” Jaskier laughs. “I’d ask you to fuck me, but I’m afraid my room is currently… occupied.”
Lambert’s loud moan only confirms Jaskier’s statement.
“Hm,” Geralt hums. “Do you think this tavern has a bath? I think I still have some griffin blood in my hair from last week.”
“Oh,” Jaskier purrs. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure I could get some chamomile oil…”
They hear another moan, this time Aiden’s.
“What are we waiting for, then?” Geralt grins and grabs Jaskier’s hand. “Come on, bard. We have some catching up to do…”
2K notes · View notes
babyboibucky · 3 years
Text
Salt, Sugar and Viruses
Pairing: Office!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You’ve been secretly making coffee for Bucky at the office.
Word Count: 1,962
Warnings: Two idiots just doing idiot things
A/N: This was done in a haste so I kinda hate it lol but I can’t get this story out of my head and thanks to @bitchassbucky for pushing me to write a full fic of this 🥰 luv u 🥺
MAIN MASTERLIST
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"You have a crush on Barnes' grumpy ass?!" Sam choked out.
You angrily hushed him and frantically looked around the pantry to make sure that your secret was still safe. Fortunately, only you, Sam and Nat were inside having your respective afternoon breaks.
"What? He's nice. And cute." you told Sam as you stirred your coffee, smiling to yourself at the thought of your office crush, Bucky.
"How'd you even meet him, he works all the way at the IT department." Sam asked.
Nat snorted recalling the encounters she witnessed for the past few months. Some of which were unintentional but most of them? You had carefully planned out just so you could come up with an excuse to request for Bucky's assistance.
"She might have gotten viruses in her computer once...or twice. Or thrice." Nat teased.
The first time you met Bucky was when most of your files suddenly got corrupted. It was hella embarrassing because you didn't know shit about how computers worked and well, you've been illegally downloading torrents since the office's internet connection was a gift from the internet gods. Without a doubt, your computer was a nest for viruses.
Bucky showed up in your floor that morning and you almost sunk into your seat from shame. You'd heard the IT Department complain about everybody else in the office messing up their computer systems. When you turned around, Bucky greeted you with a charming smile and soft hello. You could still remember how he felt when he stayed behind you as you sat on your chair, bending over to take your mouse in his hand.
God, he smelled so good you almost turned your head to nuzzle your face into his neck.
He was very soft-spoken you realized; Bucky was kind enough to walk you through the process and to be honest, you couldn't recall a damn thing he said. Something about firewalls? And shields? Whatever, you didn't really listen. You just stared at Bucky as he explained everything, solving your problem in less than fifteen minutes.
Since then, your crush for Bucky grew bigger. You'd entered the elevator together a couple of times, shared small conversations that made your heart flutter. When those little moments didn't seem enough, you started your devious plan to fuck up your computer a bit. By the third time Bucky fixed your computer, he was already comfortable enough to tease you for being a "virus magnet".
"Hello? Young lady, come back to earth." Sam snapped his finger right in front of your face, interrupting your thoughts.
You clicked your tongue at him and swatted his hand away. "If you ever tell this to anyone, Wilson. You are dead." you warned, poinitng a finger at him.
Sam rolled his eyes, "It's so unfair how he's kind to you. Last time I requested for his assistance he got all smug and grumpy at me." he complained.
Nat shook her head in amusment, "That's because you've been downloading porn. You know the IT department can access our browser histories, right?"
You choked on your coffe, "WHAT?!"
Nat narrowed her eyes at you, "You been up to no good for you to react like that?"
You faceplamed, "I've been stalking his Facebook account."
Sam chortled, "What are you, in high school? Jesus, calm down. You're gonna be fine. Why don't you just tell him you like him?"
You made a face, "I'm not Nat to have the guts to do that."
Nat hummed, bringing her mug to the sink to wash it. "Why don't you start by making him coffee?"
"I don't know how he likes his coffee."
You received a pointed look from both your friends. You groaned in defeat, "Okay, fine. I know how Bucky likes his coffee."
Nat smirked, "Stalker."
-
Bucky always arrived in the office half an hour before nine in the morning. This gives him time to settle into his cubicle, buy a sandwich at the stall downstairs and to make himself a cup of coffee. It was his daily routine and upon going back to his desk after buying his breakfast sandwich, Bucky was surprised to see a cup of newly brewed coffee on his desk.
He looked around but there were no signs of anyone. There wasn't even a note of some sort. Carefully, he brought the cup to his face and inhaled its scent. Shrugging, he took a tiny sip.
-
"How's the little secret admirer doing?" Nat asked, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you.
You deadpanned, "I've been leaving him his coffee for an entire week now and nothing's happened yet."
Nat frowned, "Are you kidding me? Why would you expect for something to happen when you haven't been leaving any clues?" she said.
"I'm shy, okay?! Maybe I should hide somewhere, check for his reaction. See whether I have a chance." you shrugged.
It was stupid of you to leave the coffee on Bucky's desk. You never stayed to wait for him. You just left it there without a note or anything that would even give him a clue about you and your little crush on him. You knew the reason why, of course. You were afraid of rejection. Sometimes, you'd feel like you have a chance with him since he was always so kind and warm to you. Not to mention, everyone in the office knows him to be grumpy but around you, he was totally the opposite of that.
But then again, maybe he was just nice to you because you were nice to him too.
-
One morning after leaving Bucky his coffee, you finally decided to leave him a note. You ran back to your cubicle to get a post-it and a pen. Before you could even walk around your desk, you spotted Bucky headed over to the pantry, the cup of coffee in his hand.
"Fuck, okay. Maybe I should just directly ask him out?" you thought to yourself.
You quickly followed Bucky into the pantry and almost whined when you saw that Sam was inside as well. You widened your eyes at him, signalling for him to leave but Sam was preoccupied on observing Bucky who seemed to be in a bad mood.
"Rough morning?" Sam just had to ask as you awkwardly stood by the doorway, finding the right timing to butt in.
Bucky's forehead creased as he let out a huff, "Rough weeks, actually." he answered.
You opened your mouth to say something comforting, wanting to lift Bucky's spirits up but he turned around and glanced at you and then back to Sam.
"Does anyone hate me in this office?" Bucky asked.
You and Sam exchanged looks, both of utter confusion before shaking your heads in unison. "Why'd you ask?" Sam asked.
Bucky lifted the cup of coffee that you made, "Someone's been making me coffee." he stated.
You cleared your throat, "...is it bad?" you asked.
Bucky made a face, "Terrible actually."
Ouch.
"I mean, the first time I saw it I was actually flattered. And then I took a sip and it's just...salty." Bucky said, pouring the coffee into the sink before throwing it into the bin.
Sam's head snapped towards your direction, his face almost red from biting back a laugh. Your face heated up at the realization that you've been putting salt into Bucky's coffee instead of sugar. All this time. You wanted to disappear right then and there. And Sam had to be the one to witness your huge failure.
"I thought it was a mistake since the next day, there was another coffee on my desk. I tried it out and it's still salty. It lasted a week, you guys. And I was dumb enough to keep on tasting it in hopes that it might have been a genuine mistake. But now I'm starting to think that someone hates me that much to fuck my coffee up." Bucky explained, face scrunched up into a mixture of irritation and curiosity.
Sam failed to stifle his laughter and exploded, "Funniest shit I've ever heard." he told Bucky before standing up and making his way to the door where you stood.
Your face was red and if the salt and sugar mishap was already humiliating enough, Sam decided to make things even worse for you.
"You really need to check the labels before pouring shit into his coffee." and with that, Sam gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving the pantry.
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. When you opened them, Bucky was staring at you with an expression you couldn't paint.
"Did you...were you the one leaving me coffee?" he asked.
You secretly pinched yourself in the arm to check whether you were just dreaming. Fuck, you hoped you were having a nightmare but the pain that you felt made it clear that you totally fucked up.
You nodded in embarrassment.
"You hate me that much?" Bucky asked in disbelief, as if he was offended that out of all people, it had to be you.
You quickly shook your head, "No, God no! I just...it's because I..." you stammered, trying to find the courage to spit out the words you've been dying to tell Bucky.
Bucky tilted his head, "Because you...?" he urged.
Your hands balled into fists as you let out another deep breath. Bucky probably hates you right now, but whatever. This was your only chance and to hell, you were going to confess.
"Because I like you?"
You didn't think that Bucky's confused look could even turn more...well, confused. But he was looking at you incredulously as though you've grown a second head, or a third head.
"You like me so you decided to put salt in my coffee?" he asked again.
You honestly didn't know who sounded even more stupid now, you or Bucky. Because if he still didn't understand what was going on, he was dense as fuck.
"No!" you explained. "I wanted to make you a decent cup of coffee but I guess I was too careless and didn't realize that I've been putting in salt instead of sugar." you said.
Bucky didn't say anything after that. He just stared at you, but he didn't seem confused anymore. If any, he looked like he was processing the entire situation.
"You like me." he stated again.
Will your embarrassment ever end?!
"Yes, Bucky. And I messed up my chance and you know what? I'm just going to show myself out and leave you alone." you told him and forced a fake grin before attempting to walk out.
A hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the pantry. This time, Bucky was the one who looked embarrassed.
"I might have...done something pretty stupid too." he said, avoiding your gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.
You eyed him suspiciously, "What do you mean?"
"I uhh...I did something to your computer...the day before you requested for my assistance for the first time." Bucky admitted shyly.
It was your turn to get muddled at Bucky's confession. "But why?" you asked.
Bucky offered a shy smile, "Because I've been seeing you around the building and thought you were cute."
And then everything clicked. It was a light bulb moment for the both of you.
"Oh. Ohhh okay. I see." you said before suddenly breaking into laughter.
Bucky joined you and scratched his head, "I guess we're both idiots." he said, placing his hands inside his pockets as he stared at you.
"This went...way more interesting than I thought." you said with a nod.
There was a pause before you decided to speak up, "So, do you want coffee?"
Bucky beamed at you as he nodded, "As long as you'll use sugar this time."
-
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cherrykindness · 3 years
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let's make babies |
pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader
summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.
warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪
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"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."
Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.
"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."
The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.
As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.
"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.
"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.
"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."
It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.
"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."
"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."
"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."
"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."
Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.
The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.
The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.
"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."
"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."
"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."
"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"
Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."
"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."
"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."
"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."
"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."
It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.
"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."
Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.
"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"
"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"
"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.
Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.
She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.
He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.
"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."
The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.
"Are you jealous?"
"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."
"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.
"But I only think about you, I already told you that."
Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.
"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."
The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.
"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"
That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.
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alcinadimitrescuwu · 3 years
Text
This Woman's Work Part IX (Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII
“You’re almost there, Maman. You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps.”
You take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out through your mouth and push forward at your daughter’s coaxing, your arms gripping the railing that had been set up in your bedroom. The wound in your side is in agony but you take another step, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep from crying out in pain.
It has been three weeks since that horrible night. You had already lost a lot of blood by the time Karl and Alcina arrived at Donna’s place. In an incredible stroke of luck, Donna had surgical thread in her sewing kit and at Salvatore’s instructions (he was having one of his good days) sewed up the place where Alcina’s claws had torn through. You were in and out of consciousness, but every time you opened your eyes Alcina was there by your side holding your hand.
Alcina is sitting nearby in her chair now, gently burping Ecaterina after her feeding. She looks up at you and you see concern in her golden eyes and another emotion that has been a mainstay for the past couple weeks: guilt.
Things had been...awkward between the two of you since that night. No matter how many times you assured her that all was well and you had forgiven her, she refused to forgive herself. You had only been intimate one time since that night and it ended quickly after Alcina had forgotten about the wound in your side as she cupped your hip and you couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that came out of your mouth. Alcina had immediately gotten out of the bed and as far away from you as she could, as if afraid touching you would cause any more damage.
She had sunk into the chair and began sobbing brokenly. You had wished to go to her, but your Bath chair was already on the other side of the room. You braced yourself against one of the bedposts as you said gently, “Darling, it was an accident. The pain’s already subsiding. Please come back to bed.”
Alcina covered her face with her hands, but you could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t even make love to my wife without causing her pain. What kind of wife does that make me?” The raw self-hatred in her voice broke your heart.
From that point on whenever you had settled down for the night, Alcina kissed your forehead and turned out the light and that was the end of it. She kept to her own side of the bed and you greatly missed the feeling of her muscular arms about you with your shoulder tucked under her chin, her curls kissing your cheekbones.You had the sense that if you tried to move closer she would move away so you didn’t even try.
You try to take another step and suddenly the room spins around you and you fall forward. Daniela, however, quickly grabs your arm and puts her arm around your shoulder before you hit the ground.
“I think that should be enough for today, Maman,” Bela says soothingly.
You set your jaw. You only have three more steps to go before you clear the railing. “No, girls, I can keep going.” But your ragged breathing and forehead shining with sweat give you away. You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek and taste coppery blood from where you had bitten into it.
Cassandra rolls your Bath chair over to you. “Maman, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. You’re not gonna be of any use to Ecaterina if you run yourself ragged.”
You smile at Cassandra’s brutal honesty as she helps you into your Bath chair. “You’re right, dearest.”
Alcina stands up, having finished burping Ecaterina. She looks affectionately over at her daughters taking care of you and you see one of the first genuine smiles from her that you’ve seen in weeks. “You’ve been so good to Maman these past few weeks, dears. She and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given to us and Ecaterina.” She rests the hand not holding Ecaterina on the back of your chair and you take her hand in yours, kissing her knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s time for us to put Ecaterina down for her nap and for me to change Maman’s bandages. If you’ll excuse us, loves.”
The girls nod in agreement and vanish into their bug shrouds. Alcina turns around and settles Ecaterina into her cradle. Ecaterina gurgles, her eyes mirroring the gold in Alcina’s. Alcina gives her a tender kiss on the forehead before turning to you. She motions for you to stand up and you obey as she kneels down to your level and helps you take off your day dress. Standing there in your slip with her hands on you reminds you of how long it has been since you have last felt her touch.
Alcina lifts up your slip ever so lightly and peels off the gauze bandage wrapped around your waist. Alcina sets her jaw as she uncovers the gashes she herself had inflicted on you. She takes off her gloves, dips the pad of her thumb in a jar of salve and applies it to your wounds. There is an unreadable expression on her face.
You try to give her an encouraging smile. “I talked to Sal the other day,” you posit. “He says that even though the wound is deep,if I don’t expose it to too much sunlight it won’t leave a scar!”
“Not a physical one at least,” Alcina mutters.
Ok. You’ve had enough. You turn her head to face you. “Darling, we’ve been over this,” you say, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “Are you going to keep punishing yourself forever?”
Almost despite herself, Alcina leans into your touch and interlaces her large fingers with yours. “I can’t imagine how much physical pain you must be in, my love,” Alcina whispers. “And all by my hand.” Tears begin forming in Alcina’s aureate eyes. “I nearly killed you.”
“You didn’t though, Alcina!” You move over to her lap and she gently almost tentatively wraps her arms around you and holds you close. You lean your head against her chest and resist the urge to sigh. It’s been so long since you’ve been held by your wife. “I know you were under Miranda’s control but something held you back from killing me outright. I know it.”
“You don’t know what it’s like being under someone else’s control.” You can almost feel Alcina’s body shudder as she recalls that night. “It was like I was outside my body watching myself. I was screaming at myself to stop when I kissed that woman.” The memory of your wife kissing Mother Miranda so passionately pops into your mind briefly but you shut it out as she goes on. “And when I stabbed you, I-” Her voice cracks. “I was practically begging myself to stop but my body just moved on its own.”
“Don’t you see, then, darling?” you ask. “You weren’t yourself when you were under Mother Miranda’s control. The person that kissed Mother Miranda, the person that stabbed me, that wasn’t you, so please.” You cradle Alcina’s face in your hands and stare into those beautiful discs of gold. “Please stop blaming yourself for this. Mother Miranda is dead. I’m alive. Our daughter is safe and healthy. That’s what matters now.”
Alcina kisses your forehead lovingly. “When did you get so wise?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. You can see that you’ve finally gotten through to her. Her body posture is more relaxed, her jaw is loose, and her shoulders aren’t so tight. She carefully places the new bandage over your wound and you feel a pleasant tingle as you feel her bare fingers brush briefly over your tender skin.
She moves to pull your slip over your new bandage but you take her wrist before she can withdraw it. You hold her gaze as you take the strap of your slip off your shoulder and your slip coils in a pool of silk around your ankles. She takes you in her arms and brushes her lips against yours briefly. When she pulls aways, you see the same desire in her eyes. “Are you quite sure, ingeras?” Alcina asks, brushing the back of her knuckles against your cheekbones.
“Yes” you rasp. “Take me to the bed.”
Alcina picks you up as you wrap your legs around her waist, taking care not to touch your sensitive wound and carries you over to the bed. She gently, almost reverently lays you down on the bed. She lowers herself down to kiss you again and you bury your fingers in her curls. Alcina deepens the kiss, her tongue coaxing your mouth open as you unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. “I’ll go slow for you, draga,” Alcina murmurs against your lips.
“Alright, let’s see how our little patient is doing today- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK?”
It seems like Heisenberg has decided to check up on you today.
With a frustrated growl Alcina moves quickly in front of you while holding her own dress up. “Yes, Heisenberg, that is in fact what we were setting out to do before you arrived.” Alcina shakes her head at him derisively. “You seem to have impeccably bad timing, as always.”
Heisenberg’s face is beet red again, you note with amusement. “Well, excuse me for trying to check in on my sister-in-law and my goddaughter! Speaking of which, really Alcina? Getting down and dirty with the kid in the room?”
Alcina’s cheeks are also sporting a lovely red color. “Ecaterina was asleep.” Amidst all the commotion, Ecaterina has already woken up and is crying. “Well, she was until you came in.”
The girls suddenly materialize into the room. “Mother!” Cassandra chirps. “I thought I heard Uncle Karl in here and- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK!”
Alcina covers her face with her hands. Bela takes the book that Daniela is holding and holds it so it’s covering the image of you and your wife on the bed. “Really Mother,” Bela tuts to herself.
Daniela doesn’t seem to mind. She turns to the two of you, unperturbed by the state of your undress and asks, “Can Uncle Karl stay for dinner, Mother, Maman? Please? It’s been so long since we’ve all had dinner together!”
You smile indulgently at her over Alcina’s shoulder. “Of course he can, darling,” you say.
“Fine,” Alcina mutters. "Now if you please, will all of you kindly get out of our room?”
The daughters vanish into the bug shrouds, chattering excitedly about what Cook is making for dinner. Heisenberg leaves too, chuckling softly to himself.
You turn to your blushing bride and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before you both get dressed and join your daughters for dinner.
Together. As a family.
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gubler-me-up · 3 years
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Red Lingerie
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Request: Can I ask for a Sub!reader fix please? Some heavy nsfw?
A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Very simple request but did I ever struggle to think of something LOL I hope it checks all your heavy NSFW checkboxes and it satisfies your craving! Happy reading! 😏
Couple: Dom!Spencer/Sub Fem!reader
Category: Smut (NSFW 18+)
Content warning: Unprotected sex, choking, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, creampie, hair pulling, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, degradation, slight bondage, spanking, slapping, dom/sub dynamic, spitting, swearing
Word count: 5k
————-
Valentine’s Day was a day to celebrate the love between two lovers. Too bad your lover was away during the day. You two wanted to go out for a nice Valentine brunch, go for a romantic walk down by the lake before going home for the day to enjoy each other’s company. It was supposed to be extra special considering you two hadn’t spent a lot of time together for weeks.
Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend had an unpredictable job. He left a week before Valentine’s Day which earned him a huge, exaggerated sigh from you before you accepted he would be absent. You were excited to show him the special outfit you had planned for the night portion of your Valentine’s Day extravaganza. It was a little number you had picked up a few months prior because you felt as if you dripped sex in it.
When you tried it on in the store and looked at yourself, you felt as if you were the most beautiful version of a femme fatale. The mesh babydoll dress with mid-thigh high matching mesh stalkings that had a cute lace pattern at the top. The lace at the top of the stockings matched with the red lace thong that accompanied the outfit. Faux red feathers decorated the bottom of the mesh babydoll dress and a generous amount of the feathers covering your breasts. You knew it had to be yours immediately for not only your eyes to appreciate but for Spencer’s eyes as well.
You stood in front of the bathroom mirror with the lingerie hanging from your fingertips as you pressed it up against your nude body. You sighed as you thought of what could have been. You tossed the outfit aside as the chances of Spencer coming home for Valentine’s night was slimming by the hours. Even though you weren’t going to wear it you decided you could at least get ready as if you were about to wear it. You opened the cupboard and pulled out your favourite lotion that made your skin feel amazing. You then pulled out your hair products and tools.
You reached for your phone on the bathroom counter to change the playlist on your phone to something uplifting. Sometimes you needed the motivation to style your hair into something decent. You noticed a text from Spencer on your lock screen. You raised a curious eyebrow as you saw the message he had sent you. A smile instantly spread across your face and you could feel your heart race in excitement. You put down your phone before picking up your red lingerie piece.
You placed it against your body again. You admired yourself in the mirror once more but this time you looked more energized, over the moon even. You used your free hand to press the lingerie closer against your body as you rand your hand down it to mimic how Spencer’s hand would caress your body in a few minutes.
“I guess I am going to be his little whore tonight.”
You spent the next 20 minutes preparing yourself for his arrival. You knew how much he loved seeing you all dolled up for him. It made the unwrapping process so much more enticing for him. He loved stripping you from perfection down to the desperate whore you masked behind your perfect hair and put-together look. You loved the way he looked at you once he had you how he wanted you. It was as if you were his candy he wanted to indulge in over and over and over again.
You made sure your hair was perfectly done with not a single strand out of place. You made sure every part of your body had your favourite lotion portioned on it. You then pulled up your mid-thigh high stockings before slipping on your lace panties. You then completed your ensemble with the red baby doll dress. You made sure to fix your hair in the mirror one last time before leaving the bathroom to get yourself positioned.
Before you went on the bed, you went to the dresser and selected his favourite perfume of yours. You sprayed your neck once on the left and then once on the right. You lightly sprayed your breasts for him. You then sprayed your wrist and rubbed your wrists together to pass on the scent to the other. You placed the perfume bottle back in its spot and went to turn off the bedroom light.
When the lights went off the only light pouring in was from the February moonlight. You went to the side table to turn on the lamp to add a bit more light to the room. You didn’t waste any more time lingering on the small things as you knew he’d be home any minute now. You crawled in the bed to get yourself ready for his arrival. You laid on your side with one hand propping your head up with the other laying on your side.
It was as if he knew you were ready for him because not even a minute passed by when you heard the apartment door open. You felt your heart race again as you could hear him place his keys down on the side table next to the door and heard his footsteps walking towards the bedroom. He wasn’t even in your presence yet and you were already getting wet at the mere thought of all the things he would do to you.
He opened the bedroom door to see you waiting for him on the bed with your red lingerie. He had a large bouquet of red and white roses wrapped in a light pink wrapping paper. You believed he wanted to surprise you with them but you had beat him to the surprise of the night. He stood there, frozen, analyzing every inch of your body.
You smiled at him. “Are those roses for your favourite whore?”
He smirked before he started to move again. He walked over to the empty chair in the room and placed the flowers on it. He looked back over at you before taking off his suit jacket. You eagerly changed your position from laying down to being on your knees on the bed.
He walked over to you as he started to undo his tie. As soon as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t help but put your hands on his face. You looked at him with an overbearing lust in your eyes as you caressed your hands down to his neck to pull him closer to you. You took a hold of his undone tie with both hands as you stared into his desired driven eyes.
“Please make me your whore for tonight,” you begged.
He tried his best to refrain from breaking into a smile from how needy you sounded. He placed his hands on the back of your thighs and caressed them gently up and down. Your muscles loosened up under his touch and you just wanted him to wreck you already.
“I don’t think you’re ready to be my whore tonight,” he said.
You pouted. “I am. I want you to fuck me like a dirty whore. I want you to use me as a cum dump.”
He nested his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel his steady breathing on your neck before he planted two kisses on your neck. You let out an eager moan as you tugged on his tie to get some kind of response from him. He hit your earlobe softly before placing his mouth close to your ear.
“You want to be a cum slut not just a simple whore,” he whispered.
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be. If you want me to be your cum slut, I’ll be your cum slut. If you want me to be a filthy whore, I’ll be-”
You gasped as you felt him shove two of his fingers into you. You felt his fingers steadily flick against your g-spot. You moaned out a hungry as you desperately wanted him to continue. He had you right where he wanted you and you wanted to continue being in his lustful grasp.
“I’ll decide what you are and what you’re not tonight. Do I make myself clear?” He asked.
“Y-yes, sir,” you whimpered.
He took out his fingers from inside you. He leaned away from you and you immediately dropped your grip on his tie. From the way he looked at you it was clear he was ready to use you like the whore you wanted to be treated like. He placed his fingers on your mouth and then shoved them in so you could taste yourself. You moaned in delight to let him know you enjoyed the taste.
“I need a good vessel for my dick. Do you think your whore mouth can do that?” He asked.
You nodded in response. He took his fingers out of your mouth and immediately gripped your neck. He pulled you close to his face so you could see how disappointed he looked.
“I think a desperate whore like you can use her words,” he said.
“My whore mouth can do anything for you, sir,” you said.
“I don’t want to hear any gagging. You’re going to take my dick like a deprived whore. Am I making myself fucking clear?” He asked.
“Yes, sir,” you responded.
Without another word exchanged, he pushed you down to the side with you looking up to the ceiling. He gripped onto your hair and yanked your head so it would dangle off the bed. Even though you could see he still had his pants on you didn’t wait to open your mouth to prepare yourself for his dick.
You watched eagerly the upside-down image of him undressing. He threw his tie on the bed which could only mean he was planning on using it later. He threw off his dress shirt and flung it on the ground. He then unbuttoned his dress pants and pulled them off just leaving his underwear on.
He approached your mouth and rested his bulge on your mouth. You licked the fabric which concealed what you really wanted in your mouth. You could feel his hard dick through the fabric which made you overly excited and overly wet.
“Pull it off if you want it so bad, whore,” he demanded.
You didn’t hesitate to yank his underwear off. His dick slapped you on your face as it bounced out which made you smile. With no more delay, he shoved it in your mouth. You tried your hardest not to gag on it, especially when he went right into fucking your mouth.
He pulled down the top of your babydoll dress to reveal your breasts. He gripped your right breast into his right hand with a mighty grip on it. You let out a powerful moan in response. He slapped your breast and you felt the sting linger before he did it again.
“Did I tell you to make a fucking noise? Your mouth is for sucking my dick, not for commentary,” he said as he slapped your breast again.
Your facial muscles flinched but you didn’t make another sound. If you wanted to be his whore for the night, you had to do everything he said. You knew what he had in store for you was going to be a night of sexual thrills.
You then felt his hands messing around with your underwear. You heard a slight rip of lace but didn’t care since you expected it to happen. When he was in the zone, clothing couldn’t keep him from getting what he wanted from you. You soon felt his fingers back in you stroking your g-spot. You tried your best to refrain from moaning even though he was pushing you towards it.
“Your whore pussy’s as wet as your fucking mouth. I can’t choose which one to cum in first,” he said.
You felt your legs tremble as he started to stroke your g-spot even more intensely. You tried your best not to make a single sound and continued to let him fuck your mouth. Your spit started to leak out of your mouth and go down your face. You could feel it go down your cheeks, past your forehead, and into your hair in an overflowing, bubbly stream.
Your focus switched from your hair to your clit when you felt him fiercely circling your clit. You couldn’t even hide how badly your legs trembled and you could no longer hold back your moans. You let out a cry of a moan repeatedly. Your sounds only motivated him to go faster and faster around your clit. His thrusts inside your mouth started to become more rapid and deep to the point where his dick was touching your throat.
“I thought I told you not to say a fucking word while I’m fucking your disgusting whore mouth,” he said.
You couldn't even respond to plea your case as his thrusts weren’t lightening up and neither was his hand around your clit. He stopped circling your clit and landed a harsh slap on your overstimulated clit. You let out a muffled shriek as the slap tingled throughout your body. He then went back to circling it for a few seconds before slapping it again. You arched your back as you muffled out another shriek.
“You were fucking begging me to treat you like a whore and you can’t even put out like one. You better be the fucking best cum slut right now if you want a chance to get fucked,” he said.
He went back to circling your clit as you tried to maintain your cool. Then you felt it. You felt a tingling sensation overcome your body. You tried to hold it back. You tried extremely hard to. Then he put his fingers back in you to stroke your g-spot relentlessly. You had no choice at that point but to cum.
You arched your back further as you let your orgasm take over your body. You moaned loudly around his mouth but he didn’t let up from fucking your mouth. He also wasn’t done with you. You felt him roughly squeeze your left breast in response to you having an orgasm. You let out a muffled shriek in response.
He went back to rapidly circling your overstimulated clit. You were still on a high from your orgasm so you couldn’t control anything any longer. You could feel tears forming in your eyes from how overwhelmed your pussy felt from his touch. You muffled a scream around his dick as you felt yourself squirt. He slapped it one last time which nearly made you jolt off the bed.
“You weak fucking whore. You get a little overstimulated and you decide to cum,” he said.
You didn’t attempt to moan anything. He didn’t give you the chance to anyway. He grabbed the back of your head to push your mouth all the way on his dick. You couldn’t hold back your gag as he hit the back of your throat. You could feel the tears drip from your eyes to join your saliva in your hair.
You couldn’t even move back from it with the way he gripped your head. He had you exactly where he wanted you and where you wanted him to have you. In no more than a few seconds you felt his cum in your mouth. You coughed since it tickled the back of your throat. He soon pulled it out to look at you. You let out a few more coughs and some of his cum managed to leak out of the side of your mouth.
He didn’t ignore your little slip-up. He slapped you on your cheek as a response to wasting his cum. You took it with no complaint because you knew you were being bad for wasting his cum after you begged for it. You already disappointed him with disobeying his demand of you being quiet and now this. You were definitely in for some big trouble.
“What kind of fucking cum slut wastes cum?” He asked as he slapped you again.
“A bad one, sir,” you whimpered.
“Don’t beg for shit if you can’t fucking deliver,” he said with another slap to your cheek.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be a good cum whore from now on, sir,” you begged.
He grabbed you by your hair and sat you up on the bed. He then yanked you off the bed with your still slightly shaky legs. You got off and he pulled you down to your knees so you were face to face with his dick.
“Apologize to it,” he said as he shoved your face into his pelvis.
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“Sorry for what?” He asked.
“For wasting your cum,” you said.
He shoved your head down towards his balls. You assumed he wanted you to put them in your mouth to show how really sorry you were. You placed them in your mouth and sucked on them until a fresh pool of saliva escaped your mouth. He then pulled you away and forced you to look up at him. You could see this desire mixed with fury in his eyes. You could feel a tingle run down your spine again. If he could send chills down your spine with just a look he definitely owned you. You could have just melted into a pool with the way he looked as if he wanted to fuck his rage into you.
“Do you think you deserve punishment?” He asked.
“Yes, I do, sir. I’ve been such a bad cum slut,” you said.
He slapped you on the cheek with his free hand. “Don’t dare call yourself a cum slut until you can properly take cum. Fucking get up.”
He didn’t give you the chance to stand on your own two feet before he yanked you up by your hair. He pulled off your red babydoll lingerie dress and tossed it aside. He then threw your torso onto the bed, leaving your legs to be close to the floor. He pulled down your underwear and you stepped out of it. You felt him roughly squeeze your right ass cheek as if he was trying to find the right spot or the most tender part. You knew exactly what he was going to do and only a second later did he do it.
You let out a scream as he harshly spanked your right ass cheek. It stung so bad you knew it was going to leave some sort of bruise in the morning. He then did it again in the same spot. You screamed again as you tensed your right ass cheek from the pain. You knew his hand was in the air for a third one on the same spot so out of instinct you placed the back of your hand on the spot he hit. You could feel the heat radiating off from it.
“You fucking slut,” he said.
He grabbed your wrist and yanked it away from the spot he had hit. He then grabbed your other wrist and held them both together with his right hand. You turned your head to the left to see what he was going to do next. You saw him reach for his tie he had thrown on the bed and knew the chances of you using your hands for the rest of the night were slim.
He tied your wrists together as tightly as he possibly could. He made sure you weren’t able to interfere with his punishment any further. He yanked on his tie to see if it was tight enough. You knew they were tight enough just by the way they squeezed your wrists. They would definitely leave a mark once you were untied.
He noticed you looking at what he was doing. You immediately looked away so he wouldn’t think you were trying to overpower him in any way. You were genuinely curious as to what he was doing. You knew he wouldn’t accept that answer at all.
You felt his body closer to you as if he was leaning over you. You felt his teeth dig into your shoulder and you let out a short yelp. Then he did it again and again and again across your shoulder until he reached your ear. You bit your lip so you wouldn’t make another weak sound.
He grazed his lips on your ear. “This is exactly why a slut like you needs someone like me to keep you in line.”
You nodded your head still without looking at him. You felt his hand grab the back of your neck. He turned it so you had to face him. His eyes were low and his breathing was oddly calm and steady. You hadn’t even done much work but you knew you looked wild and untamed compared to him. Exactly how he loved you to look.
“Isn’t that right, slut?” He asked.
“Yes, sir,” you whimpered.
“You’re going to take your punishment and you’re going to fucking love it. Are we clear on that?” He asked.
“Yes, sir,” you said.
He leaned up and didn’t waste a second. You felt him spank the same spot for the fourth time. You buried your face into the sheets to prevent your scream from hitting his ears. He grabbed your hair and yanked it up.
“Say how much you fucking love it,” he demanded as he sparked the same spot.
“I fucking love it,” you screamed with tears stinging your eyes again.
“Keep saying it,” he said as he spanked the same spot again.
“I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeatedly shrieked as he continued to spank the same spot.
He then let your hair go. You let your head fall onto the bed in silent relief. You breathed heavily into the sheets as you took the time to catch your breath. It didn’t even sting anymore. After the fifth time it almost became numb. Obviously your punishment wasn’t over though. He yanked your head up by his right hand this time.
“Next cheek,” he said.
His announcement was followed by a deafening spank on a fresh canvas. You bit your lip hard as you tried not to scream. You let your tears freely escape your eyes as he did it again.
“I fucking love it. I fucking love it,” you repeated as he spanked you repeatedly.
“That’s what a fucking cum slut should act like. Pathetic and desperate,” he said as he spanked you again.
“I’m a pathetic fucking cum slut,” you screamed as he spanked you again.
He yanked your hair. “And what are you fucking desperate for?”
“Your cum in my pussy,” you screamed as he spanked you again.
He yanked you up so you were standing in front of him. He shifted your body so you were facing away from the bed. He yanked your hair back so you could see his face. By the way he looked at you, you knew it was time. You tried to refrain from smirking to avoid another round of spanks.
“You better make me fucking happy,” he said.
“I’m your fucking cum dump, sir. I won’t waste it again, I swear,” you said.
He then pushed you over so you were at a 90-degree angle. You had nothing supporting you by your legs and your back. Your hands were still tied and you had no bed to rest on. You knew this was his way of testing how committed you were to his need for you to be his willing cum slut.
He grabbed your ass and you let out a soft yelp from the sting that ran through your body. You waited in anticipation as you could feel his dick outside of your hole. You wanted to move back so bad to take him into you fully. You had to keep reminding yourself about the stinging of your ass to calm your desire for him to fuck you.
He cut you from your thoughts as he pushed you back onto his dick. You shrieked out of surprise as you felt his whole dick enter you. He kept pushing you back and forth instead of thrusting into you. It was a unique choice but a calculated move. He for sure wanted to test you and you weren’t one to make a mistake twice. It was hard keeping your balance as your stockings were sliding against the hardwood floor.
“Keep your fucking balance, slut,” he demanded.
“Yes, sir,” you moaned.
You straightened yourself up as you continued to let him use you in the way he pleased. You could hear him making slight groaning sounds which you hadn’t heard all night. You just knew he was in love with the way his dick felt in you. You started to think he realized how good of a cum slut you could be with a pussy like yours. Your mouth could use a bit more work but he could never complain about the way your pussy hugged his dick so well.
“Your pussy sounds as if it’s ready for cum,” he said.
You took the time to hear the way your pussy sounded when his dick went in and out of you. You smiled at the sound of it. He then sped up the pace. Nothing but his groans, your moans and the sound of your juices sounded the room.
“My slut pussy wants your cum in me,” you moaned.
He continued to move you back and forth on his dick at a rapid pace to what you guessed was to come to his finish. Your legs started to wobble and become unstable as his strokes made you unbalanced. You arched forward as the pleasure of him fucking you was taking over your whole body.
He smashed you against him all the way. You shrieked at the thrill of having his dick all the way in you. You didn’t even care about the sting you felt when your ass hit his body. He grabbed your hair to pull you all the way up so your body was against his. He pulled your hair back so you could look at him again.
He placed his mouth against your neck to bite it. You moaned loudly in satisfaction and widened your eyes as you felt him full you with his cum. You bit your lip as he slowed down his pace to gently fuck his cum into you.
“Let’s see how good your slut pussy took my cum,” he said into your neck.
He pulled out his dick from you and reached down to rub his finger up your pussy. You shivered at his touch and let out a soft moan as he inspected. He brought his finger up so you both could see how well you did. There was a little bit of cum on his fingers. You eagerly opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. He gave in to your eagerness by glazing his cum on your tongue.
You gladly took his cum into your mouth. You made sure to show him how happy you were to have his cum in your mouth again. You wanted him to know you wouldn’t dare waste another drop of his cum. You opened your mouth to show him every trace of his cum was gone.
“Now that’s how a cum slut takes cum,” he said.
“Does that mean I can always be your cum slut, sir?” You asked.
“You have major potential, slut,” he said.
He used his other hand to grip the side of your cheeks. He squeezed them hard enough for you to open your mouth. He spit into your mouth. He let go of your face and watched you swallow his spit. You opened your mouth to show him you could swallow more than cum to make him happy.
“I’m dedicated to being your personal cum slut,” you said.
“I love to hear that, slut. I can’t wait to use you again,” he said.
“Maybe another day though. I think I overworked you tonight,” he said.
He let your hair go as he backed up from you. He untied your wrists and you could feel the circulation back in your hands. You watched him go over to the chair and pick up the bouquet of roses. He looked back at you with a gentle smile but still had lust glazing over his eyes. He walked over to you with the bouquet.
“For my favourite cum slut,” he said.
You smiled as you took the bouquet from him. He grabbed your face to pull you closer to him. He hit you with a huge, pleasure-filled kiss. It felt as if he waited to give you this kiss from the time he walked through the door. He backed away from you and leaned into your neck to kiss it.
“I know you wore that perfume for me. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I love a cum slut who cares about the little details for me,” he whispered in your neck.
“I would do anything for you, sir. Thank you for the flowers,” you said.
He leaned up from your neck to look at you. He grabbed your neck gently which brought a proud smile to your face. He grabbed your ass which caused you to yelp pathetically. It brought a smile to his face.
“There are also chocolate covered-strawberries in the kitchen for you. Eat up so you have the energy to be my cum slut again. I want to give your mouth a second chance,” he said.
“Thank you, sir. I promise I won’t disappoint this time,” you said.
He kissed you gently on the lips. “I love to hear that. Happy Valentine’s Day, slut.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”
—–
MASTERLIST
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx​ @calm-and-doctor​
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diosmio76 · 3 years
Text
What I Deserve (2) | soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.
Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader
WARNINGS: +18, dub-con, needle use, stalking, fingering, kidnapping, kind of non-con (more dub-con but just incase)
Word Count: 3,076
A/N: my timeline on which version of Barnes is fucked up and a mix of everything honestly // my first ever time writing smut, and honestly I'm open to constructive criticism b/c I have no experience in this area LOLZ
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You squeezed your eyes as you stretched your body. Feeling your comforter rise and fall against your skin from your movements. You hung your feet off your bed and stretched them before standing up. You did your usual set of morning stretches, were they done correctly? Probably not, but it was the thought that counts and the only form of self-care you gave yourself. You let out a sigh as you got ready for another day similar to all the rest. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be excited about waking up, but who were you to complain. You used the toilet as you went back and forth in your mind about nothing in particular, your eyes staring at your bed that was quickly losing the warmth it collected from your body. Once done in the bathroom you dragged yourself to your vanity, hearing the faint noise of cars on the street, you began getting ready for work. After changing and grabbing your tattered work bag, you began your journey with all the other commuters.
The day dragged on like any other, talking to coworkers only when they needed something from you. Hearing the usual remarks of “Oh, I didn’t notice you” or “I didn’t even see you there”, you got used to it but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Before you had time to dwell on it, it was time to go home. You packed your bag then began your walk home, following the same route you always take during the week. Taking a little solstice in the fact that you were just another face in the crowd, that fact made you feel as if everyone else was alone too. Once home you locked the door and dropped your bag, heading to the bedroom you changed into an oversized shirt and put on your slippers before heading towards the living room. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume for some background noise, making the short trip towards the kitchen to make dinner. You rarely got messages on your phone unless it was from your mom or your phone provider wanting you to update your old phone, so you scrolled mindlessly through various social media newsfeeds. You munched on a vegetable as you waited for your pan to heat up. You tried to not feel bad for yourself, you were the one to blame for the lack of social life but you were in too deep. Too set in your ways. You stared at the steaming pan as you imagined moving across the country.
“Yeah right” you said aloud to yourself as you finished cooking your dinner, eating the food but not really tasting it.
~~~
You repeated the same routine the next day, unbeknownst to you today was the day that Bucky decided you were ready. It didn’t take him long to find a house isolated by miles of forest. Despite its unassuming traditional exterior, the inside was modern as he enjoyed the impersonal nature that the style provided. He spent the majority of his time there making sure the house was locked and secure in case you tried anything. The thought made him laugh a little, knowing you didn’t have it in you but he didn’t want to take any chances. Things had been going his way lately, and finding you was like the universe was rewarding him even more. At first, he considered getting to know you, and doing the whole flowers and dates thing but decided he didn’t have the patience for all that waiting, he’s been waiting long enough and he deserved something good. He settled on a much easier method. Breaking in was easy, old apartments like this barely gave him any trouble. He even had someone hold the building door open for him, just his luck.
The lock felt weird when you opened your door but you didn’t think anything of it, dismissing it as another sign of the building’s old age. He watched from afar as you went about your usual routine. He was beginning to become skeptical at how oblivious you were. He was practically behind you and you hadn’t even looked over your shoulder once. He even made some accidental noises by stepping on squeaky floorboards and didn’t get a reaction from you, he took this as another lucky break. You were tired today and fell asleep relatively easily, considering how long it typically took you to fall asleep. Bucky walked around your apartment as he waited for you to enter a deeper sleep, familiar with everything since he had been in here a few times since first spotting you all those weeks ago. He looked at your book collection, a mix of genres, and looked closer at the few photos you had on display. A majority of the old photos seemed to be of your family from decades ago. He picked up one that seemed more recent, the only one you had up that included you. He recognized the other two people in it, your mom and sister, both busy with their own lives. He already sized up your family and it would be easy to handle them if he needed to.
He walked into your bathroom and went through your medicine cabinet, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides a few nail polish bottles and various allergy medicines. Finally, he noticed the soft snores coming out of your room. He shut the cabinet, staring at his reflection for a second. He knew this was the right thing to do and had no bad intention. He softly grunted at his pathetic moment of self-reflection and took out a needle filled with a small dose of anesthesia. He observed you for a moment as you slept, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows relaxed, he considered for a moment how easy it would be to take you, but reminded himself of the bigger picture. He easily found a vein and waited a few minutes before taking you to your new home.
~~~
You squeezed your eyes shut and smiled to yourself as you thought about how well you slept last night. You hummed as you kept your eyes closed briefly noticing the absence of warmth that the morning sun provided you in the mornings. You thought nothing of it, too distracted by the fact that this was probably the best night’s sleep you’d gotten in months. Despite that you still felt a little groggy, you began to move but quickly felt something rough holding you down. Your eyes shot open as your breathing began to quicken. You became conscious of the rough restraints around your arms and legs. You awkwardly lifted your head up as you tried to look around, it looked like a basement based on the unfinished walls surrounding you, a single lightbulb hanging above you on the unfinished ceiling. You attempted to calm yourself down by deeply inhaling but knew it was a lost cause once you heard the shaky exhale leave your mouth. You knew you couldn’t break free from the knotted rope holding you down. You had weak arms and tried to use your leg strength in an attempt to kick yourself free but felt it begin to sting as it irritated your ankles from the pressure. You sat in a deafening silence and felt completely petrified.
You let out a whimper as you heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened as you saw a tall, broad man approach you. You were too scared to notice anything about him and began to feel yourself shake, causing you to miss the way he hungrily reacted to your frightened state. A shadow was cast on you as he stood over the bed. From the corner of your eye, you watched as his right hand lowered the comforter to your torso and expose your shirt as you twitched at the action. He smirked in response, your eyes following his hand as it hovered over the comforter as though he was going to do something. It exited your line of sight but your eyes were fixed in place. You heard movement as he straightened himself before speaking to you for the first time.
“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for most of the day” His deep voice filled the room as you kept shaking, too scared to answer. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and wondered if he could too, but he was too busy trailing his eyes over your torso. He noticed the way your nipples created peaks on your oversized shirt. He licked his lips before he moved his hand up to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You did your best at avoiding his gaze keeping your gaze low, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control your shaking but felt it intensify instead.
Still gripping your chin, a little tighter than necessary, and trying to control your shaking body got him hard. You looked so weak like this, it made him excited, a wicked smile painted his face as he looked down at your wide eyes and lips clamped together in terror.
“Look at me when I talk to you, doll”
You had a difficult time looking people in the eyes in general, so you lifted your eyes and stopped at his chin. You didn’t dare go any higher. He squeezed on your chin and heard him let out an amused chuckle. If you weren’t so terrified you would have noticed how out of place it sounded given the situation.
“That’ll have to do, for now, I can tell you’re terrified but you really have no reason to be. I only want to do what’s best for you- for us, I’m only doing what needs to be done.” He didn’t expect a response and stared at you as he let you sit with his words.
He took a moment and let his hand trail down from your chin. He felt the nervous swallow as his pointer finger trailed lower and lower. His finger deviated from its straight path as he placed his palm against your chest, pausing to feel your heartbeat racing. He almost felt sorry as he felt its frantic rhythm. He couldn’t help himself as he cupped your left breast. His thumb gently circling around the hard bud. You scrunched your eyebrows and scolded yourself for getting pleasure from his action. His gentle touch was a strong contrast to the situation he had put you in.
His finger continued its journey down and stopped just above your mound. You swallowed as you felt his eyes staring at you intently, not daring to see if you were right. He lifted his hand momentarily as he moves to sit next to you, hearing the springs groan under him, pushing the comforter towards the bottom of the bed. You get chills as warmth escapes, feeling the crisp air conditioning surround your body instead. Jerking at his touch, he returns his right hand to your body just below your navel this time. His fingers trace down until it feathered above your mound. You held your breath as if any noise from you would assure that he would continue his actions as if he would forget you were there. You felt his pause when his fingers hit the material of your cotton underwear. He slowly traces a short line along your clit, you ball your hands into fists wanting to make him stop. Why was your body enjoying this?
You hold your breath as he gently pulls them down till they were at your knees and returns his hand to its previous place. The empty room is quiet, amplifying the sound of both of your breaths. You feel his middle and ring finger move lower gently stroking your folds. You hear him let out a surprised huff as he continued stroking.
“I was gonna bring lube, but it looks like we won’t be needing it, huh sweetheart?”
You felt your cheeks heat up, he was right. You felt heat building ever since he grabbed your chin, but he didn’t need to know that. All you wanted to do was at the very least was cover your face, but felt the irritation of the rope on your wrists instead. He began back and forth on your heat for a few moments. The room now having the added noise of his fingers slowly speeding up as he stroked you. You shut your eyes as he circled around your entrance, you could already tell his fingers would be significantly bigger than yours. He slowly inserted a finger as you sucked in a quick breath. You could hear him let out a quiet groan as he watched his finger disappear into your hole.
After finding a rhythm he added another finger. You let out a whimper at the fullness of both of his thick fingers filling your hole. It stung at first, hurting slightly you wanted to try and stop his intrusion. Besides your finger, you had never had anything else inside of you. You felt slightly embarrassed by this when you were younger but as you got older you accepted the fact that your lack of social life was a major reason as to why you never had anything close to a romantic partner. Never being social enough to meet someone that you would want to be friends with, let alone sleep with. You felt as though you should tell this man, did you even know his name, that this was the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone before. Before you think any more about it you open your mouth, nothing coming out at first but it was enough for his eyes to go to your face. He slowed down his pace and had his eyes trained on your face waiting for you to speak as if his fingers weren’t leisurely stroking your soft walls in the meantime.
“I- I think I need to tell you something” The words left you slowly and your voice was shakey as you tried to speak and ignore your oncoming orgasm at his rough fingers stroking you gently. Why did you feel like you owed him this? You briefly thought to yourself. But it was too late to stop now.
He smirked at you as he waited for you to continue on. So far, you’ve shown him nothing but submissiveness. Cementing the fact that he made the right choice when he chose you. He didn’t plan on being this gentle with you originally but he couldn’t help it, feeling as though any other treatment would scare you away. His fingers never stopping their gentle strokes, he watched your lips as your quiet voice trembled on.
“I’ve never really, I haven’t done any of this before. I’m a virgin” the words leave you slowly, you gulp and still refuse to meet his gaze, scared for a moment that you would lose the gentleness he has given you thus far. You knew that wouldn’t stop him, but a small part of you hoped it would be enough for him to stop just for now. For the first time you decided to look at his face, still too scared to meet his eyes you opted to watch his mouth as you waited for a response.
To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. You had chosen to tell him this on your own, he didn’t even get a chance to ask you. He didn’t want to assume but based on his observations of you he had an inkling that this was the case. He felt proud of you, his perfect girl. He smiled gently at you in response. You shivered as his fingers paused their gentle strokes in you as he moved to kiss the top of your head.
“Thank you for telling me, my good girl” it sounded patronizing but your body thought otherwise. Feeling heat shoot straight to your core at his response. He felt you squeeze around his fingers at his response.
Once he felt that you adjusted to his fingers he began to alternate inserting them. Thrusting one and then the other inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut, you never felt this close to cumming so quickly. Your eyes swelled with tears as you quietly sobbed, reaching your climax. Both of you watched as he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive heat. Covered in slick from your climax. You watched as he moved his fingers close to his face, smirking at you.
“Just a little taste for now,” he said he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck on his two fingers that were just inside you seconds ago. The empty room amplified the sound, your face felt hot as you watched the lewd act feeling your core still throbbing.
He reveled in your obvious embarrassment, humming at your reaction. He wiped his damp fingers on his pants as he got up. You blinked slowly, taking in what had just happened. You had enjoyed what had just happened but felt angry at yourself for that. He shouldn’t have done that, and you had let yourself succumb to his fingers so easily. He watched you, deep in thought with your eyes spaced out. His cock throbbed as if reminding him he needed a release too but he didn’t want to scare you. He had a plan, but you had just showed him that he didn’t have to be as rough as he initially thought with you. And he wouldn’t ever admit it but he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, as soon as he interacted with you it was almost as if he needed to handle you with care. Something that he thought wasn’t in his nature, but for you, maybe he’d try.
He felt his confident demeanor waver for a second, an odd feeling. He needed to get away from her and have a moment alone, so with a quick glance, he turned towards the door and practically ran out of the room without speaking to her.
Too busy thinking, you didn’t notice the foreign feelings your captor had just experienced. Only noticing this broad figure leaving the room as if he was late for something. If you weren’t so busy scolding yourself you would have wondered if you had done something wrong to elicit that action from him.
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aithorin · 3 years
Text
You’re Mine - All Smite x Reader (18+)
Summary: After trying to leave town, Smite shows you exactly who you belong to
Warnings: Villain AU, Villain!All Might, Possessive Behavior, Dominance, Mildly dubious consent (i.e. you don’t explicitly say yes), Vaginal fingering, Unhealthy relationships, Unplanned pregnancy
Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469632
Very much NSFW!
Stepping through your front door, All Might expected to hear the usual snide remark about how rude it was to barge into someone’s house unannounced float down the hall, but all that greeted him was silence. Closing the door behind him, he walked further inside and called out your name, but got no reply. The apartment was well and truly empty. Arriving in the living room, All Might let himself sink onto your couch, a creak emitting from it at his weight, and soon let himself become preoccupied with his thoughts.
Something didn’t feel right. You should have been home right now. After all, he knew what your schedule was like. Not because he cared about you or anything though. He just kept himself up to date on your life, so that he wouldn’t waste his time coming over here if you were busy. He usually only came over to blow off some steam, so coming at a bad time would only make things worse. Frustrated and horny were two emotions that did not mix well with All Might. As such, he kept himself in the loop on your daily life. It was a purely selfish motivation. Except, it had apparently backfired since you weren’t here. He could feel the beginnings of frustration crawl up his spine at your absence mixing with something he refused to name (though if he really examined it, the feeling would probably be identified as worry), and with a growl escaping from his lips, he jumped up off the couch to see if he could find out where you had gone.  
Beginning in your bedroom, the first thing he noticed was that the place seemed emptier. To the left, the closet doors stood wide open with a few clothes barely holding onto their hangers while the majority of them held nothing. The knick knacks and stationary that dotted your desk were nowhere to be seen. Looking toward the back, he saw that your nightstand had been completely cleared as well. Your room looked like something out of a hotel rather than a space you lived in. Observing your bedroom, All Might knew you had haphazardly packed and left to go somewhere in a hurry, but looking even closer, he realized that it looked like you had no intention of coming back. Nostrils flaring in anger, he stewed about what could have possibly made you leave so quickly, leave him so quickly. Didn’t you know that you belonged to him? It was almost laughable that you thought you could leave. You were his. His toy to do with as he pleased, and you should have known better than anyone that he was very possessive of his toys.
Turning around, he stomped in the direction of the bathroom to continue his search. First, he was going to figure out why you had left. Then, he was going to find you and drag you back if he had to. And finally, he was going to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t ever think of leaving again.
Walking into the bathroom only confirmed what he already knew: you had fled, but from what he still had no fucking clue. The space was completely bare, all of your toiletries gone. He was about to leave when he caught sight of a little trash can placed next to the toilet. Taking his time to examine it, the pieces of the puzzle behind your disappearance began to click in his head, and the second it did, annoyed anger turned into full-blown rage. For there, nestled right at the top, was a plastic stick with a plus sign on it. He vowed right then and there that he was going to make you pay, and without another glance, stormed out of the apartment, intent on finding you immediately.
_________________________
Nervously glancing down at your watch, you ducked into a nearby alley, using it as a shortcut to get to the train station. With your suitcase bouncing on the gravel behind you, you chanted in your head, “5 more minutes. 5 more minutes, and I’ll be at the train station. 5 more minutes, and I’ll be on the train, heading away from him. 5 more minutes until I start my new life. 5 more minutes until I’m-we’re safe.”
Taking deep breaths to calm yourself, a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you spotted the other end of the alleyway. Right around the corner was the entrance to the train station. With each step, your surroundings grew brighter and a bounce in your walk seemed to grow with it. You could almost taste the freedom. One more step and you’d be out-
“And where do you think you’re going?” a familiar voice growled, yanking on your arm to tug you back into the shadows of the alley.
“Damn, so close. I really hope he doesn’t kill me.” you thought.
Turning around, you craned your neck up to meet All Might’s infamous blue eyes. Fuck, he looked really angry. It’s ok, you could talk yourself out of this.
Putting on a brave face, you steeled yourself to lie your way through this encounter. It didn’t matter how you felt about him. You had to get him to let you leave after this-and in one piece. “Hey All Might! Didn’t I tell you? I have an out of town business meeting this week and-”
Cutting you off, he leaned down to get eye level with you. “DON’T lie to me girl. I saw your apartment. You have enough shit in that suitcase to last you for a lifetime. Now I’ll only ask once, What. Are. You. Doing.” he spit out.
Taking a moment to study him, you tried to gauge his behavior. He was angry angry-like angrier than you had ever seen him before. Did-did he know? You thought to yourself momentarily before mentally shaking your head. No, there’s no way he could know. I’ll just play it off. Tell him a half-truth and push him away to distance him from me. Let’s hope he doesn’t snap my neck over it.
Raising your half-lidded eyes to meet his, you shrugged simply replying, “I’m leaving.”
“Why?” he bit out.
Stepping back to place some distance between you two, you crossed your arms as you began to get irritated with him. “Does there have to be a reason? Maybe I just got tired of your annoying ass and decided to leave town since I’ll have to go god knows how far to get you to leave me alone.” you scoffed.
Taking a step towards you to close the distance you had tried to create, he snarled “Watch your tone girl. I’m already upset with you. You do not want to make me angrier. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”
Beginning to circle around you, like a bird eyeing its prey, he let out a tut. “But back to the matter at hand...we both know that bullshit excuse of yours isn’t true, so why don’t you be a good little girl and tell me the real reason.”
Stiffening at his words, you tried to deflect. Still feigning nonchalance, you rolled your eyes, letting out a sigh, “Why does it even matter to you? I’m just your fuck buddy, sometimes an occasional person to talk to. So why the fuck do you even care what I do?  Either way, I’m replaceable. Just go find another hole to stick it in, and I’m sure you’ll be juuusssst fine.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, All Might whipped his head around to stare at you, giving you the most scathing look you had ever seen. Harshly grabbing a hold of your arms he brought you close in a grueling grip before hoisting you up. Before you could even think, he jumped into the air, the force behind it rattling the buildings in the alleyway. Moments later, you found yourself on the balcony of your apartment, still held tightly in his arms. Dropping you down, he nodded towards the back door.
“Open it.” He stated in a tone that left no room for argument.
Digging out your keys, you silently followed his commands. As soon as you slid the door open, he bent down to go inside. “Follow me. NOW.” He demanded.
Filled with anticipation, you trailed along behind him until he came to a stop at your kitchen table. Seeing what was on the table, your mouth immediately went dry. At your reaction, a sneer started to make its way across All Might’s face.
“It matters to me because of that,” he stated, nodding his head towards the test on the table, “Mind explaining what it is?”
You could still fix this. So he knew you were pregnant, big deal. You just had to convince him that it wasn’t his. Swallowing nervously, you let out a shaky laugh. “That’s what’s got you so worked up? That has nothing to do with this. It’s not even yours. I told you, I just didn’t want to see you anymore, so I left.”
Advancing towards you, he backed you up against a wall before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Do you take me for a fool girl? I’m the most powerful man in all of Japan. Are you really so naive to think I don’t keep tabs on you? You should know by now that I don’t share, so I know for a fact that my dick’s the only one that’s been in your dirty little cunt since we met. I warned you not to lie to me before, so if you know what’s good for you, I’d suggest you drop this little act and tell me the truth.”
Now you knew it was too late. He definitely knew it was his and he was angry. At the fact that it was his baby or that you had lied you didn’t know which. Either way though, your charade was over. You had no idea what was going to happen now. With tears shining in your eyes, you defiantly lifted your chin up to glare at him. “Fine, I’m pregnant and it’s yours, is that what you wanted to hear Toshinori?” Softening your voice to a whisper you repeated, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Letting out a watery laugh, you shook your head muttering, “I don’t even know why it matters. We both know that you have absolutely no desire to be a father. You’re a villain for god's sake! A child won’t fit neatly into your lifestyle. Hell, I don't even fit neatly into your lifestyle now. We barely know each other. I’m just a quick fuck to you. That’s all this has ever been and it’s all that it needs to be.”
Looking at him directly in the eye, you pleaded, “Just let me go, and you’ll never see either one of us ever again. If you let me leave here safely, I promise that you won’t ever hear from me. It’ll be like we never even existed to you.”
Letting out a laugh, All Might looked down at you with a smirk, “Let you go? There’s no way in hell I’m ever letting you go, especially now. Not that I was ever planning on it, but this little development,” he took a moment to lower his eyes to your stomach, “just became my insurance. You’re mine… forever now.”
He could see it now. Coming home to you every night. You, greeting him at the door with a child on your hip. Thinking about it caused something to twinge in his chest. Normally the thought of a family and children brought an overwhelming disgust to the forefront of his mind, but the thought of a family with you brought forth a wave of completely opposite emotions. He told himself that it was only pride at the thought of you fat with his kid, yet there was an underlying emotion of happiness as well.
Meanwhile, you were going through a series of emotions trying to decipher what he meant exactly with his words. It was always so hard to tell what All Might was thinking. Most of the time he was very flippant during your interactions, choosing to tease or flirt with you during your time together. He could never be serious with you about anything (unless it was about sex), so you had always assumed you were some sort of fling since he never bothered to get to know you. So what exactly did he mean by “forever?” Did he mean it, or was it just some sort of way of feeding into his ego? You could admit that you did have fun together. He loved to tease you, (he considered finding new ways to push your buttons a sport) and he did come see you at least once a week, often choosing to stay at your place for the night rather than leave. But you never thought he meant anything by it. His mood could switch so easily that you had learned to never read too much into his actions.
Despite his somewhat dismissive attitude towards you though, some part of you had fallen in love with him during the course of your relationship (against your better judgement) and you treasured every moment you spent with him. God knows you should’ve never gotten involved with him, but being with him just felt right. From the moment you met him, you knew that nobody else would ever make you feel the way he did. Although you had feigned indifference, claiming you were nothing more than fuck buddies, your relationship with the infamous villain had moved past that some time ago. You had just never known what it had moved into until now. His declaration seemed to indicate that he did care about you in a way that extended past a fuck but you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that he cared about anything other than himself. Almost certain you were dreaming, you voiced your thoughts aloud.
“Care about you? Of course I care about you, why else would I have wasted so much time on you. I swear you ask the stupidest questions.” He scoffed, “How many times do I have to tell you that you belong to me and only me? Maybe it’s about time I just showed you instead.”
Somehow he stepped impossibly closer to you, placing one arm above your head to keep you thoroughly trapped in place. Standing so close, you could feel the hardness of his dick pressing into your thigh. Breath held in anticipation, you silently watched as he traced the pad of his thumb across your lips with his free hand. Shoving the top of his finger into your mouth, he looked down at you commanding you to suck on it and you instinctively started to swirl your tongue around it. Watching you appreciatively, he let out a hum as he declared, “This filthy mouth of yours is mine.”
Pulling his finger out of your mouth, a string of saliva followed after it. Eyes glued to him, you watched closely to see what he would do next. Your deep breaths echoed throughout the room, but it was blocked by the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You could feel your pulse beginning to pick up as tingles of desire started to dance across your flushed skin. Body tense with excitement, a heat started to spread throughout your body heading straight for your core at his touch.
All Might continued carving a path down your body, ghosting a hand over the length of your neck and coming to a stop at your breasts. “These are also mine.” he growled out, giving them a squeeze as he gave a light tug on one of your nipples. At his touch, a breathy groan escaped your lips as a wave of desire caused a fresh layer of wetness to coat your pussy. Your hardened nipples ached for more attention, but before you could even blink, his touch was gone, causing you to whine in protest. All Might paid you no heed though, much more interested in making his toward the final stop in his exploration of your body.
Skimming over the flesh of your thigh, his hand slowly started to climb their way up your skirt. Unconsciously, you spread your legs to allow him better access, causing a smirk to make its way upon his face at your display of eagerness. Finding the outline of your panties, he trailed a lone finger up your slick before gently flicking at your nub. Withdrawing his hand, he took a long inhale of your scent before raising the digit up to his mouth to lick it clean. Smacking his lips, All Might fixed a roguish grin upon you before leaning down to lay his palm flat over your pussy, his thumb beginning to rub slow circles around your clit. “And this ….this tight little cunt of yours belongs solely to me. You belong to me”
With that, he leaned over to capture your lips in a kiss, forcefully pushing his way in to deepen it as much as he could. His tongue smothered yours in a play of dominance, but you met him head on, arching your back into his chest in an effort to raise your head for a better angle. Seconds later, All Might abandoned his task of keeping your arms trapped in favor of using his hands to rip your shirt off. Never once letting go of his lips, you shrugged out of the remains of your shirt as well as your bra. Chest now bare, All Might seized the chance to lavish attention upon your breasts. Lifting you into his arms, his lips began to move away from yours, causing you to whine in disapproval. The whine soon transformed into a gasp as he kissed his way down to your breasts before taking one in his mouth and cupping the other in his hand. Swirling his tongue around the tip, he began to gently nip and tug at your bud all while fondling the other held in his hand. Every movement elicited a moan from you, and you took the opportunity to thread your fingers through his blond locks, tugging on them to bring him closer.
Soon though, it wasn’t enough. Your core felt hot as your body began to hunger for him. The beginnings of a fire had been stoked and soon you were consumed by it. All you could sense was him. The sensation of his lips upon yours. The feel of his hands on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. There was a want, no-a need, for All Might to touch you more. To touch you there. Only he could satiate this impossible, overwhelming craving. Your fingers clenched around his hair as your pussy throbbed from desire.
”Ple-please I-I need more,” you breathed.
Lifting his head to meet your eyes, All Might asked, “Mhm what was that princess? You want me to touch you?”
Diverting his attention from your chest, his fingers once again made their way under your skirt, teasing the edge of your pussy in long, languid strokes.
“Look at that, so wet, and it’s all for me. Are you really that desperate?” He taunted.
Pushing your panties aside, All Might slipped a finger inside of your cunt eliciting a gasp from you at the sudden stretch. Teasing your clit in small circles with his thumb, he slowly began to thrust his index finger in your pussy, twirling his finger around inside of you to toy with you even more. Every movement drew out a moan from you as he worked you open with expert ease, knowing exactly what to do to make you crumble into the palm of his hand. Not long after, he added a second digit and increased the pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel yourself on the precipice of release when suddenly All Might’s fingers abruptly slowed down, reeling you back and refusing to let you fall. Tears of frustration sprung to your eyes as the coil within you ached for release. All Might continued to torment you, building up the speed of his thrusts, bringing you to the brink of an orgasm, like a wave crashing onto the shore, but every time he sensed you were about to come, his touch would disappear without ever allowing release. Every time he denied you, the coil inside you wrung impossibly tighter, so tight that it felt like it was burning you from the inside. Your head spun from the need for release as tears leaked from your eyes. Beads of sweat decorated your brow as your breathing morphed into a heavy pant from the physical exertion All Might was putting your body through. Letting out a cry of frustration, your body bucked against him, looking for some much needed friction, but All Might only let out a tut at your miserable state.
“What do you want, girl? I want to hear you beg.” He sneered at you, flicking at your clit.
“Please-please let me come A-All Might.” You pleaded, letting out a moan as his fingers sunk inside your pussy.
“You know that only good girls get to come. Good girls who know who they belong to. Now tell me (y/n), have you been a good girl?”
“Y-yes, I’ve been a good girl. I promise to always be a good girl. Just please let me come.” you begged, mind hazy from his ministrations. At this point, you would say just about anything to please him if it meant that you would get to come.
“Really?” he says, sounding surprised, “Because good girls know who they belong to, and it seems like you forgot that today. I will only ask once, who do you belong to y/n?”
His tone turned impossibly dark, and with it his fingers plunged even deeper into you, giving you hard thrusts in time to his words.
“Y-you. Only you,” You groaned out.
“I want to hear you say it.” Pressing his face against your ear, All Might’s warm breath hit your face as he harshly whispered, “Who do you belong to?”
“I belong to you All Might!” you cried out as he scissored his fingers inside you at the exact same time.
At your reply, a pleased smile spread across his face as he purred out, “Good.”
With that, his fingers gave a brutal thrust, sinking into your cunt so deep they seemed to physically push you over the edge, the coil inside of you finally springing free. At having been denied so many times, your orgasm flooded over you, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as your cunt clamped hard around his fingers, your orgasm so violent that you started to see stars. White hot waves of pleasure crashed over you, wracking their way up your spine, clouding your vision as your body trembled from trying to keep up. Your senses became numb as a sea of ecstasy engulfed your body. The only thing you were aware of was the pleasure coursing its way through your body, and you voluntarily let yourself get lost in the sensations, letting it completely consume you. You barely even noticed your body crumpling against the wall, completely giving out. Strong arms caught you as large hands wrapped around your back to brace you.
After what felt like hours, you finally began to descend from the high of your orgasm. Slowly recovering, your limbs shook as your senses came back to you. When you regained your vision, you raised your head to meet All Might’s eyes, your breathless, panting gasps being the only sound to fill the air. With his anger finally abated, a gentle, calming peacefulness filled the room, the likes of which you had never experienced with All Might. He kept his eyes trained on you, studying you in a way that you had never seen. It looked like he was looking at you for the first time, seeing you in a new light. Without even seeming to realize it, he raised his hand to rest his palm against your stomach in an almost (dare you even say it) tender way. Having never seen him behave in such a way (and doubting you would ever see it again), you held your breath, savoring the moment.
All too soon though, the moment broke. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, All Might’s face regained his usual wicked smile as he stood up.
“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, princess.” He stated, beginning to make his way toward the door. “Try anything like that again, and I won’t be so nice.”
Opening your front door, he turned back once more, pinning you down with his blazing blue eyes. “I have some business to attend to now, but I’ll be back in awhile. I’ll be visiting more often to check up on our little development. Expect me soon.”
Then, without another word, he was gone.
Staring at the place he had stood moments ago, your head spun as you tried to make sense of everything you had learned about the man from this encounter. You knew that you would never be a normal family (you were having a baby with the number one villain after all), but in his own sadistic, overly possessive way it seemed that he cared.
If you were smart, you would’ve left him a long time ago. But in reality, that option ceased to exist the moment you met him. There was no going back after meeting a man like All Might. Really though, you found that you had no desire to go back to your life before him. Something about him drew you in and refused to let go. You knew that what you felt for him was love, but you were much too scared to ever admit it outloud. Strangely though, you found comfort in the fact that something about you seemed to attract him towards you in much the same way, as he always came back. And if tonight was any indication, it seemed that he had no intention of letting go. You weren’t so naive to assume he loved you in the traditional way, but deep down, so deep he would never fully understand it himself, there had to be a small fraction of him that loved you as you loved him. You knew you would never have a perfect relationship with him, hell you doubted that you would even have a healthy one, but maybe, just maybe things would be alright in the end.
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stetervault · 3 years
Note
Hiii! Been delving into Steter now, in the year of our lord 2021, even though I never really did when I was active in the fandom years ago and I was wondering if you'd have some longfic recs for the ship? Like, fics that are Classics(TM)? But happy endings! And I'm not super into those in which Stiles is still underage 😬 do u have any recs? Thanks!
Welcome to the Steter fandom! I definitely have some long fics to rec, some of them are super old lol, and I'll stick to ones around 20k or over, and most of them are finished. And hmm, considering the ship, and a lot of fics like to start off in season 1 where Stiles is still technically a teenager, I'll try to limit these to ones with Stiles being at least 16/17 before anything starts happening, and only 18+ if there's explicit content. I hope that's okay.
drowning in the sea of you by Corpium
Beacon Hills was perfect for Stiles growing up, but now, with werewolves, hunters, and an anxious best friend running around, it's turning into a place too chaotic for an empath like Stiles to handle alone. And pain killers can only go so far.
Wake Me Up by ToAStranger
Stiles has been in a coma for six years. Now he's awake.
Tremors by Corpium
(Stiles has a taste for him now. All Peter needs to do is wait.)
Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft
Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?
Bite Down by EclipseWing
In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.
as you are by veterization
Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.
Call My Name by KouriArashi
After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.
Devil of Mercy by KouriArashi
Peter's heard people talk about what it felt like when they saw their mate for the first time, from those who actually believe in the mystical bullshit. Like a magnet, like gravity. Peter just feels... sharply curious.
Whiskey is My Kind of Lullaby by taylorpotato
Peter is a simple saloon owner on one of the outer planets between the Aaru Belt and the Olympus Galaxy. He’s done with trouble. Done with adventure. So fucking done with rustlers. That is, until a cute young outlaw named Stiles wanders into his bar. Peter has this problem where he can’t seem to resist charming narcissists (perhaps because they remind him of himself). And when said narcissists turn his life upside-down, the worst part is he’s not even that upset about it.
Proposing To Strangers by moonstalker24
At the end of a strained relationship, crime novelist Stiles chooses to hide from the world inside a bar with far too many motorcycles outside it for comfort. Here he'll meet the man of his dreams, eat food and propose marriage, all within the first five minutes.
Peter doesn't know who this kid is, but he's cute and looks like he could use a break. So he feeds him. He's not expecting a marriage proposal, but with what comes after, he doesn't really mind.
Stiles Stilinski, Disaster Chef by Guede
The zombie apocalypse forces Stiles to learn how to cook.
The Will by Guede
We are gathered here today for the reading of Gerard Argent’s will.
On the Importance of Lunar Influences in Gardening by Guede
“Oh, it’s you again,” Stiles sighs. He puts down his basket and drops the bunch of onions into it, and then dusts off his hands. “Can’t you get your own strawberries? I mean, I have it on good authority that wild strawberries? They’re a thing. They exist. They’re out there.”
“But Stiles,” says the werewolf dangling by one foot from the tree, sticky red smears around his mouth and all over his fingers. “Your berries are so juicy, so ripe. Those ones in the woods are mere passing indulgences compared to the royal feast you have in your garden.”
Genii loci Stiles and his father run a community garden, and it’s all good, except for the werewolf who keeps sneaking over the fence to raid Stiles’ strawberry patch (and the hunter who’s constantly hanging around his father).
Runes and all kinds of things by FeelingsDusk (WIP)
Enough is enough. Stiles is tired of being always a last choice when he always tries to do his best for his precious people, so they better get their act together or face being left behind.
OR
The things in the Argent's basement get nearly fatal, the Sheriff finds about the supernatural, Allison can have a wicked, wicked mind and Peter Hale appears to be everywhere.
Oh, and Stiles can't seem to stop breaking the laws of physics with his magic.
Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter
The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.
It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.
Out Of The East, Never See The Sun Rise by neglectedtuesday
In the beginning, there are three absolutes.
One. Stiles is a god, forged of starlight and collapsing galaxies and he is eternal.
Two. Peter is human, fragile bone and viscous blood and he is temporary.
Three. Stiles and Peter are in love; love that claws its way inside one’s heart like fish hooks; all encompassing love that is beautiful but dangerous.
Stiles is a god. Peter is human. They love each other.
Three absolutes.
You Had Me at Canapes by LadyArinn
Stiles doesn't mean to sneak into the Hale wedding, and he certainly doesn't mean to have cliche coat-room sex with the bride's uncle, but what had happened, happened, and it wasn't like he could just leave. At least, not until he got to have some of that cake.
Infinite Space by DiscontentedWinter
Stiles needs Peter's expertise to help stop the latest threat to Beacon Hills. And, as the pack falls apart around him, he might even need Peter for more than that.
Hook, Yarn, Sinker by pprfaith
Stiles is happy with his store, his hobbies, his friends. Peter's just trying to figure out how to raise his nieces and nephew without fucking them up too badly.
Paths cross.
Open Wounds by Guede
Talia got out of the fire with Peter, but everyone else died. Years later, they’re still struggling with injuries, but they’ve at least settled in with oddball werewolf Stiles. And then other werewolves start showing up. Familiar ones.
Bittersweet Creek by Guede
When Stiles finally steps off the westward trail to California, he’s the last of his pack. He starts building a den, but then he finds a dying man next to a burnt-down house and it turns out he’s not really much of a settler, after all.
For Great Justice! by Green
Stiles is a vengeance demon, drawn to Peter just as he's waking from his catatonia.
"Whoever did this? We will make those fuckers suffer. I promise you."
Bone Deep by ShippersList
A body in the woods, a mate, and a long-awaited revenge.
Peter had no idea how his life would change when he followed the strange pull in his chest.
Love What is Behind You by KouriArashi
Basically what it says on the label. Hunger Games type fusion. Stiles doing way better than anyone anticipates. Peter finds him intriguing. Ruthless, devious assholes working together to ruin bad guys, as the Steter ship is meant to be.
Soothing the Burn by Therapeutic_Steter (WIP)
Peter is burnt out and breaking down. Stiles notices and offers him solace, along with the one thing he wants most: Pack.
Til Death by Bunnywest
“How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks. “Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is. “He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her. The camps……aren’t camps. Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.
Ink Blossoms by Triangulum
"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.
"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.
"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."
"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."
Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.
"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.
"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.
After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)
It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.
After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.
love me lights out by veterization
Stiles and Peter get snowed in together. (Or: what happens when you accept phone calls from people you haven't spoken to in over five years.)
Uncle Peter Doesn't Date by Mellow (SweetCandy) (WIP)
“Oh don’t lie, you love it.” Peter purred and winked at his newest arm candy, who spluttered for a few seconds, before blushing like a 16 year old virgin. Considering how young he looked Laura wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually 16. “Shut up Peter!” Bambi squeaked, still flushing and averting Laura’s eyes. “Well, anyways, I’m,” ‘Bambi’. “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski, pleasure to meet you- again.” Stiles smiled sheepishly, obviously nervous. Stiles Stilinski. Definitely a stripper then.
-
Or: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.
Under the Songbird’s Wing by mia6363
Captivity easily destroys the will of escape. It can break the fiercest of animal. It can strip the most regal man and woman down to nothing but animal needs.
Captivity can, if met with unwavering determination, shape a person into something unimaginable.
Stiles is sixteen when he's captured. Stiles's first thought is, "I won't die here."
Baby Whisperer by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids)
“What. Is that.”
Scott looked up at him, apprehensive.
“Her name’s Lily.”
Stiles stared at the fuzzy head peeking out of the papoose.
“Her. Her name. That is a real live human baby. Oh my God-”
“Actually I don’t know if she’s human?” Scott said with a confused frown. “Becca didn’t say.”
“Who the fuck is Becca?!”
Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest
The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.
The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”
You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.
The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire (WIP)
"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.
Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.
Chris cocks his gun.
"You killed my father," he says.
"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.
"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.
"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"
[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]
A Curious Magic by Triangulum
Overall, Stiles is very well-known in the supernatural community. It’d be hard not to be, not with how his reputation has grown like wildfire. He knows and is on good terms with nearly all the fae that reside in the preserve, the asrai that live deep in the lake, the Ito pack, the vampire couple that lives over in Beacon Valley (they buy an ethically-sourced food supply from Stiles), as well as almost every other supernatural entity in the area. But Talia Hale doesn’t like him, and a werewolf pack tends to do what their alpha tells them to.
So it’s a definite surprise when the wards at the edge of his property trip, the tingling down his spine telling him it’s a werewolf, the lack of burning sensation letting him know there’s no hostile intent. Stiles, in his office in the second floor turret, sets down the amulet he’s packing up for Marin and moves to the large window overlooking the front of his property. He’s expecting to see an Ito packmember, even though they nearly always call in advance, and is surprised to see a man that he recognizes as Talia’s brother, Peter.
Light in the Dark by cywscross
It still surprises Stiles sometimes, how easily he’s adapted. Seven months in a world filled with train tracks and soul-sucking fae, and it feels like he��s never known anything else.
~~
Or, the one where diverting the Ghost Riders from Beacon Hills to prey on a different town only succeeded in setting them free.
Vengeance Looks Good On You, Sweetheart by cywscross
Just because Scott refuses to see the Argents for what they truly are - prejudiced serial killers sitting proudly on a mountain of innocent corpses - doesn't mean Stiles will. It's about time someone did something about the Argent Empire anyway, and what a coincidence - summer vacation is just around the corner.
--
Or, the one where Gerard Argent kidnapped the wrong fucking person to torture. Stiles has never subscribed to the policy of forgiving and forgetting anyway, not when razing the problem to the ground and salting the earth for good measure has always been a far better solution in the long run.
He doesn't expect to have company.
129 notes · View notes
cafedanslanuit · 3 years
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chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter
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✖   —   summary:  porco wasn't surprised when you called him at three in the morning because you were too drunk to drive back to your place. he would always be there when you needed, both as your best friend and the guy who was completely head over heels for you. and both of them were sure zeke jaeger was cheating on you.
✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader
✖   —   tags/warnings: so far it’s sfw but rating will change in future chapters, college au, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, unrequited love, cheating, toxic relationships, friends to lovers
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chapter one: save your love
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“Thanks for picking me up, Pock. You didn’t have to.”
“Tch. Of course I did,” Porco replied, putting his arm on the back of your seat on his car and reversing, getting out of the bar’s parking lot. You took your time observing him and noticed the bags under his eyes. You shouldn’t have been surprised. What were you expecting when you called him at 3 am asking him to pick you up from the bar because you were too drunk to drive home?
Porco rested his arm on the open window of his car, his other hand handling the wheel with ease. There were very few cars on the highway and the chilly air refreshed your body just right, making the ride home a lot more comfortable than you pictured. You closed your eyes, basking in the feeling of safeness you always felt whenever your best friend was around, plus the sweet dizziness on your head from the vodka and Porco’s cologne.
“What did the fucker do this time?”
It didn’t last long.
“He didn’t do a thing.”
Porco scoffed. “Yeah, right. Are you really going to pretend you didn’t end up in that bar because of what Zeke’s ‘friend’ just posted on her Instagram?”
“Porco, please.”
“What was the caption again? Oh, right. ‘Movie night’, devil face emoji, fire emoji,” he recalled with a snicker, his eyes fixated on the road. “She even tagged him on it, her legs resting on his lap and shit. Was it the same girl he took to the cat shelter for some ‘volunteer work’ last week or another?”
You didn’t answer. You knew Porco already knew who she was.
“She’s very pretty,” you mused. “It makes sense.”
“Please, have you looked at yourself?” Porco asked, taking a right turn.
Jokingly, you took the rearview mirror and angled it towards you. Your mascara was a little worn off and there were only traces of the red lipstick you had put on before heading to the bar. Your hair was messy as well and you look like you desperately needed a bottle of water.
“I look like shit,” you laughed, putting the mirror back to its original place.
“Shut the fuck up, you look good.”
“Pock, look at me. Whatever is going on here,” you said, gesturing at your face, “ain’t good. If you think so, your taste is really lacking.”
Porco chuckled, eliciting a soft smile from you.
“I like to think I have really good taste.”
“If we’re being serious, you have way too high standards,” you yawned, extending your arms and feeling some cracks on your back.
“How so?” he inquired, arching an eyebrow.
“You haven’t been in a relationship since I know you, which is what— a year?”
“And?”
“And I’m starting to think you’re afraid of commitment. Maybe you’re just afraid of a relationship,” you shrugged.
“Are you done, Freud?” he teased, sparing a quick glance at you before looking back at the road again.
“All I’m saying is you’ve had both beautiful girls and boys at your disposition and you have never even tried to date them. Well, no, my bad, you did take this one girl on a date. And what happened next?”
Porco chuckled. “Look, it’s not like that, we just didn’t click and—”
“You told her you were better off as friends and to this day I haven’t listened to a solid reason as to why you would drop such a pretty girl like her.”
“She just didn’t have what I was looking for,” he shrugged innocently.
“See what I mean? Unbelievable high standards. None of us is worthy of the mighty Porco Galliard, the lacrosse team captain who can fit seventeen marshmallows inside his mouth.”
Both of you broke in laughter, not caring about waking up someone from the houses alongside the road. You looked around and immediately recognized the neighbourhood, your laugh ceasing immediately. You patted Porco’s arm, trying to get his attention.
“Can you turn left at the next intersection?”
“We need to keep straight to get to your place.”
“I want to go to Zeke’s for a minute.”
Porco’s face twisted into a scowl. “Why would you want to go to him right now?”
“I— he told me he was watching movies by himself. I just want to check on him, we don’t even have to step off the car.”
“Hey,” he said sternly, catching your attention. “Don’t do this. You saw her Instagram post, you know what happened between those two. Are you really going to believe him after you just saw fucking evidence?”
“I know him,” you insisted. “He wouldn’t just flat out lie to me, not like that.”
“And the photo from tonight? How do you explain that?”
You took a deep breath, a sharp pain in your head making you close your eyes tightly.
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Please, just— drive past his house. If his lights are out, then he must be sleeping after watching those movies by himself, just like he told me so.”
Porco scoffed.
“Porco, please,” you pleaded, squeezing his arm as you got closer and closer to the intersection. “Please.”
Rolling his eyes, Porco turned left as you asked him to and started driving to Zeke’s house, following your instructions. He didn’t try to come up with conversation again, instead, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he pulled up crossing the street, a couple of houses away from your target.
Your heart immediately relaxed when you looked at Zeke’s window: the lights were off. You let out a long, tired sigh, letting your forehead rest on the glove compartment of Porco’s car.
“I don’t understand you,” Porco sneered, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow pressed on the open window of his car. “Him having the lights off means nothing, he could—”
Porco turned to you as you sat back up, your eyes meeting his. He bit his tongue, silently cursing and looked at his wheel, setting both his hands on it.
“He could what?” you insisted.
“Nothing,” he quickly replied, passing a hand through his hair. “His lights are off. Can we go now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you whispered, sitting back against his passenger seat and getting comfortable.
Right when Porco was reaching for his keys, a noise in the quiet neighbourhood startled you. Both of you raised their heads as a black car passed alongside them and parked in front of Zeke’s house. A tall, blonde girl exited the same house, accompanied by none other than your boyfriend. You recognized her as Yelena, who had begun appearing more and more frequently in his pictures at the same time he started posting less and less about you.
Zeke walked her to the car and you watched in horror as she pressed a kiss on the corner of his lips before getting in the car. He closed the door after her and patted the roof of the car twice before sending her off. Porco gripped the wheel tightly as Zeke stretched his arms and walked back home, dragging his feet without a care in the world.
Sighing, Porco turned to you, who were already dialling Zeke’s number.
“No, c’mon,” he said, trying to take your phone away but you swatted his hand away, putting a finger on top of your lips, asking for silence.
“Hey baby,” you greeted in your fake, cheery voice. Porco couldn’t believe after spending two years with you, Zeke couldn’t realize that when your voice got too high-pitched, it meant you were faking every word. “Yeah, I know it’s late. Sorry. Sorry. Yes, I just— I know. I know it’s too late to call.”
Porco could feel his blood boiling at every apology that came out of your mouth even after witnessing Yelena leaving his house not even five minutes ago.
“I just wanted to ask how you were doing? Were the movies fun?” you made a pause, your smile tight on your face. “Ah, I see. Wasn’t it boring to watch all by yourself?” you pressed and not even you could maintain your smile after hearing his response. “Mhm, I do know you prefer to watch movies alone. Anyway, it is quite late. Talk to you later, I love—”
You looked at the screen on your phone and noticed the call had already ended.
“Well, there’s that,” you mused to yourself before putting your phone back on your jeans.
Silently, Porco started his car again, driving away from the suburbs and heading to your place as he had intended in the first place. The comforting silence was now poisonous, his eyes flicking from the road every minute to check on you, who was looking outside the window with your eyes lost. your mind probably too full of thoughts that he couldn’t begin to understand.
It didn’t mean he didn’t want to, though.
He kept driving in silence until he reached your apartment, parking in his usual spot. He left the engine running, even if you knew he always waited until you entered the building to drive away. He unlocked the doors and let out a long sigh.
“Drink some water before getting to bed,” Porco reminded you, both his hands on the wheel.
You didn’t move a muscle, eyes lost on his glove compartment, the events of the night running around your head. Yelena’s Instagram photo. Zeke’s text telling you he was alone. Him kissing her goodnight at 2 am.
“Hey,” he called, startling you. “Are you okay?”
You opened your mouth but then closed it, not knowing where to start. You pursed your lips and tugged at your fingers in discomfort.
“Talk to me,” Porco insisted.
“Can you stay tonight?” you asked in a small voice. “Annie is out and I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”
Before you could finish your sentence, Porco was already killing the engine.
It was a silent walk to your apartment. You checked yourself in the elevator's mirror, realizing how awful you truly looked. Your eyeliner was smudged along with your mascara and the bags under your eyes were more noticeable than ever. As you inspected your face, Porco grabbed your cheek between his thumb and index, playfully pulling it from side to side until you were laughing, asking him to stop.
When you entered your apartment, you immediately walked to the bathroom, in deep necessity of a shower. Porco knew your apartment like the back of his hand, so after a quick detour to the kitchen, he made his way to your bedroom. He saw your laptop on your bed, messy sheets and clothes on the floor, probably how you had left it after seeing Yelena’s post on Instagram and decided to go to your favourite bar and forget about it for a while.
Porco took off his shoes and started picking up your clothes and put them on your spare chair, your laptop now on your desk. While he made your bed, he listened to you using your hairdryer in the bathroom and figured you would be out soon. He took out his phone from his pocket and looked at this schedule. It was already four in the morning and he had classes at nine. It was okay, he told himself. He had a hoodie in his car he could change into the next morning, and no one would say anything about him arriving in sweatpants. Well, no one that cared enough about their reputation to try and make fun of one of the golden boys of the university, at least.
You stepped off your bathroom already wearing your pyjamas, a tank top and small cotton shorts. Being friends with Porco for so long, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in your pyjamas but it was truly the first time he saw you so small while wearing them. Maybe it was because of everything that happened that night, your tired eyes or the way you were standing, but Porco had to fight off the urge to put his arms around your body and protect you. From what? He wasn’t quite sure.
He handed you a bottle of water he had grabbed from the kitchen and you drank it all in one try.
“The only true secret to avoid being hungover tomorrow,” he reminded you.
“I know,” you smiled, leaving the empty bottle on your desk. “C’mon, let's get to bed.”
Porco had slept with you before, sure. You had travelled to the beach together with some friends and your sleeping bags were always put next to each other, which only prompted you to talk all night, telling each other embarrassing stories from your younger years. You had also fallen asleep in Porco’s dorm before, after a party that left you too tired to go back to your place. He would always let you crash on his bed and you slept soundly, knowing you were safe if he was around.
Zeke had never liked that. But Porco couldn’t care less.
He got into bed first, scooting to the wall and making space for you. You laid next to Porco, facing him and sighed happily when your head finally hit your pillow
“Thanks for making the bed, Pock,” you smiled.
“Why are you still with him?”
You averted his gaze, your smile dropping in an instant. “I love him,” you muttered.
“Do you? Do you really love someone who is lying to you like this?” he insisted. You felt a knot forming on your throat. “You understand he was fucking Yelena, right?”
You nodded softly, hugging the pillow under your head.
“Then why waste your time with an asshole like him? What are you waiting for, what do you want him to do so you finally leave him? What’s your tipping point, huh?”
Porco’s voice was gentle yet firm as he tried to get to you. He watched you as you laid still, not willing to answer any of his questions. He wondered if maybe you didn’t want to know the answer either.
“You’re smart. You’re— fuck, you’re one of the smartest people I know. Why are you letting him treat you like garbage? Why are you allowing him to hurt you like this?”
Once again, he was met with silence.
“You’re are fun, beautiful and yet you’re drunk at 4 am on a fucking Wednesday because your boyfriend is cheating on you and not only that— he’s fucking her and letting everyone know. Why are you doing this to yourself?” he inquired, his voice getting a little desperate. “You should be with someone who treats you right, who— fuck, someone who knows how much you’re worth. Someone who would never hurt you like this.”
You couldn’t suppress a cold laugh.
“Yeah, like who?” you scoffed, nuzzling your face on your pillow.
“Like me.”
You snapped your head to Porco, eyes open wide and lips parted, trying to form words.
“W-what?”
You looked at Porco, his eyes looking intensely at you. He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, shaking his head.
“No,” he said, almost to himself, shifting on the bed and propping up on his elbow, his body still facing yours. “I said what I said. I… I love you. Have loved you for quite some time now,” he admitted. You watched heat rising to his cheeks, tinting them deep red.
“I— I love you too,” you said softly. “You know that. I always tell you how grateful I am to have you in my life and that I—”
“You know I don’t mean it like that. I don’t love you as a friend,” Porco muttered, rolling his eyes.
You stayed in silence, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as your eyes scanned the bed sheets between both your bodies. Even if Porco was being crystal clear with his words regarding his feelings towards you, somehow it didn’t make sense in your head.
“Why?” you whispered.
“What do you mean ‘why’?”
“Why do you… well—”
“Why do I love you?” Porco asked, raising an eyebrow. He watched you nod softly. “Well, ‘cause it’s you. Ever since we met, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your weird sense of humour and your irrational fear of panda bears,” he said, making both of you laugh, helping in releasing the tension both of you were carrying since his confession. “C’mon, you honestly thought I was so full of myself I didn’t think anyone was worthy of dating me? Fuck, I—,” he let out an honest chuckle, passing a hand through his hair. “I was just in love with you. And trust me, it’s not fun going out on a date with someone when all you can think is ‘Oh, she’d love this place’ or ‘I would be having much more fun if she was here instead’.”
“You really did that?” you asked in a small voice.
Porco smirked, cocking his head towards you. You knew his confession was playing a big part but you couldn’t stop noticing how handsome he truly was. Sure, you had always known he was good-looking, you knew this when you teased him for not going out with other people, but you never realized how truly beautiful he was.
Looking at him lying on your bed, the moonlight coming from your open window and hitting his face, it was as if you were looking at him for the first time, noticing the smallest details you had been ignoring for so long. Like how his eyes weren’t hazel but golden and that he had a few freckles on his cheekbones, decorating his slightly tanned skin. His lips also looked soft, even for someone who had woken up in the middle of the night to pick up their drunk friend. The white t-shirt he was wearing exposed his toned arms, making you feel the need to bury your face on his chest so he could put them around you.
You hadn’t realized you were moving forward until you felt Porco’s hand on your shoulder, preventing you from getting closer. You should have known you wouldn’t have been able to notice his freckles from afar. Porco’s eyes went from your lips back to your eyes and you sensed how bad he was rethinking his choices as he gently pushed you back on the bed.
“Listen, I—” he started, his blush only getting more noticeable, now making the tip of his nose turn red as well. “I’m not going to be your rebound, neither someone who you fuck out of spite or to get back at your boyfriend. Fuck, I don’t even know why I told you this,” he sighed, putting down his propped arm and laying his cheek on the pillow next to you. “Just… do better. For yourself. You deserve much more than that monkey man who hasn’t realized he’s a four dating a ten.”
You giggled at his remark and he smirked, proud of himself. Porco and you looked at each other’s eyes, a soft smile lingering on your lips. Tentatively, you reached for his hair, his golden locks feeling soft under your touch. Porco stayed still as you played with his hair, even closing his eyes as you did so.
After a few moments, your hand travelled to his cheek, making him open his eyes again. Your thumb gently stroked his skin, soft and tender under your touch. Porco’s eyes were fixed on your face as you caressed him silently. Your other fingers started running over his skin with a feather-like touch, entrapped in the sweet moment between the two of you.
Porco turned his head just enough for his mouth to meet your palm. He pressed a kiss on it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your heart skipping a beat and a smile creeping on your face.
“Can I hug you?” you asked in a whisper.
Porco nodded, opening his arms for you. You scooted closer to him, sliding your right arm around his waist, bending your other arm and flushing your head against his chest. Your legs tangled together, not taking too long before finding a comfortable position.
Once you were settled, Porco’s left arm draped around your body, pulling you closer to him gently. He pushed his right arm under your pillow, loving how easy it felt to be like this with you. It was as if you were always meant to sleep like this, with your face against his chest and your hand on his back. He looked down at you and pushed some of your hair away from your face
“Are you comfortable?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, taking a deep breath and sighing contently against his chest. Porco’s cologne filled your senses and you couldn’t help but smile at the homely feeling.
He pressed his lips against your forehead. “Goodnight,” he whispered, closing his eyes. You imitated him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
...
When Porco opened his eyes the next morning, he felt as if only a couple of seconds had passed since he had closed his eyes. He sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time that he had sleeping problems but a part of him innocently hoped it would change after he got to sleep by your side. He looked at your sleeping face. It was way too innocent from him to think just because he got to rest by your side he would have had a good sleep.
He looked down at your sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile a little. He recalled the moment you leaned into him, searching for a kiss before he had to push you away. Porco exhaled, his eyes travelling to your lips. There wasn’t anything he wanted more than to kiss the girl of his dreams— hell, he had dreamt about that for almost a year now.
But not like that. Never like that.
Porco took his phone on your bedside table and checked the time. Seven in the morning. He yawned, burying his face in the pillow. He hated his inability to go back to sleep after he had already woken up. His first class was in three hours and while you didn’t have any classes in the morning, he knew you would probably wake up regretting having drunk so much the night before.
Carefully, he pulled away from you and headed to the kitchen. You had mentioned Annie was going to be out and he figured either she hadn’t come home yet or she was asleep as well. Just in case, he tried to be extra silent while preparing coffee. He thanked Annie was the closest thing to a coffee connoisseur he knew, because he couldn’t help but let out a happy hum when the smell of coffee filled the kitchen.
As he watched the coffee drip on your mug, he leaned on the counter, his mind going back to the night he’d spent on your bed. How your fingers traced his hair, how your hand felt against his cheek and the way you looked at him when he kissed your palm. Even if he had stopped you from kissing him, somehow the tender moment you shared had felt even more intimate. Like it was always supposed to be like that: just you and him.
It wasn’t until several minutes later that Porco realized he had been smiling the whole time. He had told you he loved you. You hadn’t pushed him away after knowing how he really felt about you— not only that, you had shown him tenderness by cuddling with him the whole night. Even if Porco was aware things were far more complicated than that moment, he also knew it was a step in the right direction. He could almost see you sitting on the counter in front of him, morning light hitting your face and your legs swinging while you looked at him with a soft smile.
A shuffling noise made Porco snap out of his daydreaming. He peeked from the kitchen door, thinking Annie was back home but instead he found you stepping out of the room, wearing shorts and a big hoodie while you checked your phone.
“Thought you didn’t have class until later today,” Porco said, walking into the living room and startling you.
“Hey Pock— and no, I— Zeke called. He said he wants to talk, that he needs me, so I… I called an Uber, I’m going to his place now.”
“Are you serious right now?”
You looked into his eyes and immediately back to the floor, his glare too full of the truth for you to endure.
“The Uber is waiting,” you said in a small voice. “Thanks for… driving me home and staying. I have to go.”
In silence, Porco watched you walk past him to your apartment door and carefully close it behind you. A part of him wanted to think it was nothing but a joke from your part, that you would open the door any second now.
The song of the coffee machine turning off let him know he should have known better than to hope.
483 notes · View notes
misstressshelby · 3 years
Text
The Good The Bad and Everything In-between
Summary: Living with two Shebly men has its ups and downs. A second part of my Lost Boy writing. (I suck at summaries)
Warnings: Language
Word Count:1,856
Paring: Tommy/Reader (Reader is GN but there is a slight refecne to pregnancy)
(A/N: I just want to say thank you for 50 notes on Lost Boy! I didn’t think anyone would he interested in a little headcanon I created. I guess we can all agree Finn deserved better. )
You longed for Arrow House even as it’s large gates came into view. Tommy planned to go eighty percent legitimate by the end of next year so that meant playing nice with the tofts. Spending all afternoon with the wives of Tommy’s business associates had drained you. You couldn’t remember if the pit in your stomach or the thumping in your head started before or after lunch.
All you knew was as soon as you entered the house you instantly felt better. Mary was waiting for you as usual. You had lived in Arrow House for a year now but still weren’t used to having maids around.
“Good afternoon Mrs.Shelby. How was your lunch?” Mary smiled as soon you walked in.
“Long Mary, very long.” You gave a tight smile back. Offering a ‘Thank You” as she took your coat.
Before you could ask her where the rest of your family was, Finn walked out of the living room. He was still wearing his school uniform he claimed to hate because it made him look like a “posh twat”. His tutor Mr.Chapman followed behind him shuffling papers into a briefcase.
“Hello, Finn, how's tutoring going?’ You asked.
‘Yeah, it’s alright.’ The redhead grunted back before moving to go outside.
“Are you finished with your homework?” You questioned already suspecting the answer.
“Nah I got a couple more pages but I wanna go to the stables. I’ll only be an hour I swear it.” Finn gave you the pleading look he’d mastered.
After considering it for a moment you nodded,” An hour Finn. Then you finish up your homework before dinner.”
The boy gave you half a hug on his way out. He had to lean down to capture you in his arms. He was only fifteen but he was already taller than you and your husband though Tom would never admit it.
Watching Finn run out the door you turned your attention to the tutor. The man was standing in the hallway fiddling with his bag uneasily.
“How is he doing Mr.Chapman?'' You finally addressed him.
“Well he’s doing alright I suppose.” He continued seeing your questioning stare. “He’s still struggling with a few concepts but he’s quick to figure things out.”
“Yeah, that’s the Shelby in ‘im” You chuckle to yourself. “Do we owe you for the week?
Shaking his head Mr.Chapman told you “No.No. Mr.Shelby already took care of it.’
Adjusting his satchel he quickly left out the same door as Finn. He never stayed long after their sessions.
Not giving it much thought, you headed straight to your husband’s office. He was already gone when you woke this morning and as silly as it was you missed him. After knocking against the door you pull it open before Tommy’s muffled “come in” could even start.
“Hello, Tommy, how ‘is your day going?” You greet him while making the short walk to his desk.
He looked up from his papers with a cigarette hanging off his lips to give a short “Busy.”, before writing again.
You didn’t let this deter you as you sat on the edge of his desk that wasn’t covered in files. Taking the cigarette from his lips you kissed him as if you had been deprived of him for months.
“The tutor just left. He said Finn is making good progress.” You informed him.
He watched as you took a drag off his cigarette with a glint in his eyes. Knowing you wouldn’t leave until he gave you the attention you demanded he leaned back in his chair.
“How was lunch with Minnie and Ida then?” He asked.
‘It was like every other boring lunch, we sat around and ate tiny food while they complained about the other wives. I've invited Minnie and Richard to dinner next Wednesday.”, You could feel your headache return as you told him.
Tommy gave you a curious look waiting for you to take another drag.
‘She was telling me Richard is looking into investing in the car business while it’s on the rise and all. So I figured we’d have them for dinner and if business happens to be brought up you two can talk about it.” You explain.
“So happens to be brought up?” Tommy teased.
“Yes, it usually happens at these things.” You tell him with a slight smile.
“Now you finish up whatever you’re doing. Dinner will be ready at seven.” You command slipping off the desk while putting the cigarette out in the ashtray.
Your husband let out a loud sigh which was never a good sign.
“Love, I have a lot of work to do ton-’ He started.
“Yes, and you can finish it when you come back from dinner.” You cut him off.
This was the ever-going battle in your home making Tommy stop working and take care of himself. But you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without a fight.
You lean over the side of the desk pulling him lightly by his silk tie into another kiss.
“Thomas Shelby, I will drag you out of this office. Don’t you think for a second I won’t.” You threaten him with a grin.
” Wouldn’t dream of it Mrs.Shelby.”, He smirked back.
At seven on the dot, you all sat down for dinner together as a family.
Finn talked for most of the dinner about school and his favorite football club going to the championship.
You mused about your plans for Minnie’s dinner Wednesday.
Tommy spent most of dinner listening, offering nods or the occasional “yeah”.
Once he and Finn started talking about a horse he wanted to buy for the races he didn’t stop. Long forgotten was the pile of contracts in his office.
For the first time since you woke this morning you were content. The moments you spent with your little family were the ones you cherished the most.
~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of a door slamming startled you awake. While the two voices yelling kept you from falling back to sleep. Before you could wonder what the fuss was about, an acidic taste overtook your mouth. You barely made it to the toilet, your knees hitting the hard floor as the bile rose. By the time you had emptied your stomach laying on the bathroom floor the screaming had stopped.
You couldn’t think about anything over the pounding in your head made worse from the buzzing of the lights. Making your way downstairs you noticed everything irritated you.
The fact that you tripped over Thomas’s shoes you had told him to put away last night. The coldness of the house even though there was a fireplace in almost every room. Even the way Mary greeted you with “Good Morning Mrs.Shelby.” seemed to drip with condescension.
As you reached the dining room you had a feeling the day was going to drag on forever.
Finn was glaring at his eggs while pushing them around his plate. Beside him, Tommy hid behind a newspaper with only a line of smoke to be seen.
The room was tense and you knew neither of the men would say anything first. Stubbornness also ran in the Shelbys.
“Do either of you want to tell what the fuck all the commotion this morning was about?” You snapped sitting in front of your own breakfast.
Finn gave you a glare before starting in,” Yeah Tommy won’t let me go to a football match with me friends. It’s fooking bullshit!”
In return, Tommy put down the paper with a sigh,” You’re not going to Manchester. I’m not discussing this again Finn.”
Both of them looked at you as if you had a say in the matter.
“If Thomas says no the answer is no Finn.” You settled.
“This is complete bollocks. You took me away from me friends in Birmingham and now I’m not allowed to have any friends here either?” Finn screamed standing up from the table.
“We never said you couldn’t have friends Finn. It’s just not the right time to go to Manc-” You tried to calm him down.
“ You’re not me fucking mother you can’t tell me what to do!” He slammed his chair against the table.
“You will not fooking talk too ‘er like that! This is me fooking house and what I say fooking goes.” Tommy said in a cold voice.
The table shook as he slammed his palm down on it, breaking his calm facade.
With that Finn stomped up to his room and Tommy to his office both slamming the door when they arrived.
Waking from a nap you had hoped would help with the sickness you felt you heard silence. You laid in bed for a bit longer feeling tears build up in your eyes. Instead of wallowing, you decided to make peace. You chose to try talking to the youngest first making your way to his room. You knocked on the door.
After waiting to hear a reply or shuffle come from the room you knocked again.
“Fuck off.,” Finn answered.
Ignoring him you opened the door anyway to find him lying on his bed still dressed from this morning. He simply turned away from you to face the wall instead.
You sat on the edge of the bed before trying to talk.
“Finn I know you don’t understand this but Tommy is just trying to keep you safe.” You started.
Finn scoffed and moved closer to the wall.
“I know you don’t know this because you’ve been so busy with school, but we’ve had some trouble in Manchester. There’s a gang up there the Scuttlers, who've been trying to move on us. We can’t protect you there Finn. That’s all it is.” Moving closer you put a hand on his shoulder.
``We're happy you’ve made friends at school really. It’s just one match yeah? You can hang out with them another time.” You tried reasoning.
“Yeah.” He grunted, not moving from his spot.
You decided you would take it before going to deal with the other man child.
You found Tommy sitting in his office chair finishing a drink before pouring another.
“ Who does he think he ‘is eh? Talking to me like that in me own fucking house. I should go up there and-’ Tommy began rambling pointing towards the door you just walked through.
“Tom, it's fine. I talked to him and explained everything. Just give ‘im a week and he’ll forget all about it.”You sat in the chair opposite of him.
Once you said that he seemed to relax a little bit.
“I’m still talking to ‘im later. He will not disrespect me or you like that again.” He told you.
To that, you chuckled, “ He’s a teenage boy Thomas he’s gonna argue. But I agree you should talk to him after you’ve both calmed down.”
Tommy nodded and took another swing of his whiskey. He walked over to where you sat leaning against the desk. To your surprise, he smiled.
“You’d make a good mum you know?” He leaned down to stroke your cheek.
“Yeah about that.” You let out.
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mypoisonedvine · 3 years
Text
Sugar | Bruce Banner x reader
summary: he’s smart, he’s sensitive, he’s sexy, and he pays your tuition.  sounds like the perfect guy, right?  he would be, if it weren’t for that pesky thing of him being married.  for most girls, it’s a dealbreaker, but you have a little secret: it kinda turns you on.
word count: 2.8k
warnings: smut, semi-public sex (in a car lol), infidelity (it’s in the summary y’all), choking, wedding ring kink, daddy kink, implied age gap, sugar daddy relationship
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The last few minutes of class passed excruciatingly slowly, to the point that when you took breaks from tapping your pencil on your paper to glance up at the clock only to see it hadn’t changed at all, you wondered if time had somehow managed to stand still while your professor continued to ramble about, ironically, the way time dilates inside black holes.
“Before I let you go, I want to review the grades on last week’s quiz…”
You suppressed a groan as you waited for her to get on with it; you already aced it, what other discussion needed to be had? 
Finally, finally, she let you all leave and you were already halfway out the door, beaming as you clutched your books to your chest and jogged out of the building to the parking lot.  His car was waiting for you there, parked at the furthest and darkest end of the lot for some reason, and you knew what waited for you inside even if the windows were tinted too dark to see through.  You were too happy to even notice the cold night air blowing right through your cardigan, jogging to the car and swinging open the passenger door.
“Hi!” you smiled as you hopped in.
“Hey baby,” Bruce purred, leaning in for a kiss.  You expected a quick peck but instantly it was obvious that he was up to something, with the way he pulled you closer and slipped his tongue into your mouth.
“Bruce,” you giggled as you pulled away slightly, although it was kind of a moan, too.  “What’s the occasion?”
“I missed you,” he shrugged.  “Is it so strange that I missed my girl?”
Your thighs clenched together at the pet name, but your hands pushed him back gently when he leaned towards you again.  “At least let me set my books down first!” you protested.
He chuckled but let you go, and you maneuvered to set your books down in his backseat, feeling his gaze on your ass as you bent over and not exactly minding it.  There was a dark shimmer in his eyes when you came back, scanning over you slowly.  
“Where are we going?” you asked, already expecting a certain answer since he had made no move yet to put the key in the ignition.
“We’re not going anywhere, angel,” he explained.  “I didn’t get to see you all week and it’s been killing me.”
Of course, it was technically possible that he meant he just wanted to sit in the car and catch up with you, but the way his voice got deep and husky made it clear that wasn’t his intention.  You bit down on your lip as you glanced down to the misshapen crotch of his trousers, letting your hand slip forward to rub his thigh and just barely ghost against his cock.  “I missed you too, daddy,” you whispered.
You felt his length throb against the back of your hand, at the same time you heard him groan softly.  “How much did you miss me?” he asked darkly.  
“So much,” you nodded quickly.
“Show me how much,” he instructed, sitting up a bit to unbuckle his belt for you.  You did the rest, unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out of his boxers.  It felt so hot and hard in your palm, so thick you struggled to keep a hold on it sometimes, but you licked your lips as you leaned down and took the head into your mouth.  He instantly pushed your head down further with a hand on the back of your neck, moaning as you swallowed more of him.  “Fuck, baby…”
You smiled a little, though you suppressed it since it would interfere with the task at hand, continuing to stroke the part of him you couldn’t fit in your mouth yet.  With practice you’d learned to take all of him, but it required warming up a bit first.  That said, this didn’t feel like a ‘take it slow and fool around’ sort of night.  He was already bucking up into your mouth and you could feel that he was on edge from the way his fingers tightened in your hair.
“Fuck, so good for me,” he praised with a sigh.  “You like sucking me off in the parking lot like this, honey?  Right after school?  You think someone could walk by and see you with your mouth full of my cock?”
The windows were tinted, sure, but it was possible… and the idea made heat spread between your thighs.
“Just like that, baby, choke on it,” he groaned, all but fucking your mouth at this point— and you loved it.  You knew you were getting embarrassingly wet and you didn’t even care that you were in his car in your school’s parking lot anymore: you wanted him to fuck you, so much so that you were starting to gyrate your hips to get some friction against the seat.  He must have noticed when he reached over your back to spank you, making you jump.  “Look at you, needy little girl— rubbing yourself on my car like a desperate slut.  You’d better not make a mess, that’s Italian leather.”
He didn’t usually talk so degradingly to you, but it was definitely working for you, which became sort of a vicious cycle because as he mocked you for your desperation, your arousal grew which fed the very desperation he was mocking in the first place.  You moaned around the cock in your mouth, the vibrations clearly getting to him as you tasted more of his salty pre-cum hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck, I don’t wanna come in your mouth— get in the back,” he demanded quickly as his voice became more strained.  Not needing to be told twice, you popped off of him and climbed into the back; he wasn’t as agile as you, but he followed semi-awkwardly and slotted himself between your legs.  With his cock already out and you wearing a skirt, he could rub himself on you through your panties— which was unexpectedly intense, due to how sensitive you’d become.
Your head fell back against the seat as you moaned lowly.  “God, Bruce, please…”
“You must not want it that bad if you’re calling me Bruce,” he chuckled, leaning in to suck a mark on your neck.  There was something so hot to you about how unfair it was that he could mark and claim you any way he wanted, but you got in trouble if you got lipstick on his collar or left something of yours in his car.  The reminders of this affair and its forbidden nature just turned you on more.
“Daddy,” you corrected with a whimper, “I need you to put it in me— fuck me, please.”
“You’re sure you’ve earned it?” he asked, his smile brushing against your ear.  You nodded feverishly, clutching at his shoulders tightly.  He reached down and delicately pulled your panties to the side, groaning a bit when he saw how wet you were and beginning to rub the swollen head of his cock through your folds.
“Please,” you sobbed gently, repeating the words over and over until he finally pushed into you in one long, slow stroke.  You choked on your moan— when you went so long without seeing him, he was always just a bit too big, stretched you just a bit too wide, went just a bit too deep inside you.  You hissed through your teeth as you processed the pain, but it burned in exactly the way you needed.
“Fuck,” he breathed, “so fucking tight, goddamn…”
His hands gripped your thighs to hold your legs open, and you realized you could feel the hard metal of his wedding band digging into your skin.  Why did that, of all things, make your walls flutter and clench around him?
“Baby,” he grinned, “you really did miss me… your sweet little pussy is fuckin’ gripping me, doesn’t wanna let me go, huh?”
Your face burned but you loved the way his voice sounded when he got like this.
“You’re not gonna let me pull out, are you?” he realized with a little smirk.  “You need me to fill you up, is that it?”
You nodded, gasping a bit as he started to move faster.  “Yes, Daddy.”
"You're already getting too loud, pretty girl," he hoarsely mocked you.  "Somebody could hear you, remember?"
You whimpered and bit down on your lip.  The head of his cock was dragging right over your g-spot, making your toes curl as pleasure twisted in your gut.  "Can't help it," you explained between moans, "you feel so good… I love your cock so much, Daddy, please just don't stop."
"I might have to, if you can't keep quiet," he groaned.
"Make me quiet," you begged gently— and before you could even worry if he wouldn't know what you meant, he wrapped a hand around your throat.  
The loss of air just made everything more intense; you felt fuzzy at the edges, like your sensation was blurred, and it made shivering tingles erupt wherever he touched you.  You could feel his ring against your neck; fuck, it was everything.
He laughed a little as he started to fuck you faster and harder, hips slamming into yours until the sound echoed around the car.
“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?  I can feel it,�� he informed you through his teeth.  “I can feel it around my fucking cock.”
You nodded against the hand around your neck, gasping when he gave you a reprieve from the pressure.  “Yes, Daddy,” you cried as you clutched at his shoulders tightly, “I’m so close, please don’t stop.”
“I’m never gonna get over how sensitive you are,” he purred, leaning in until you felt so small underneath the weight of his body.  “You love your Daddy’s cock so much, hm?”
“I’m gonna come,” you whimpered as you hugged onto him tighter, shocks of pleasure shooting up your back as he tightened his hand around your neck again.  You weren’t sure if it was the orgasm or the inability to breathe that made your vision go spotty and dark, but either way it was overwhelmingly intense as it washed over you.  Shivers erupted over your skin and made your thighs twitch where they were pressed against his hips, his belt digging into the sensitive skin there (although you didn’t really notice, too busy falling back into a silent scream).
The noise you made when he let go of your throat was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh, despite those being opposite actions.  The most intense waves of it had subsided, and yet you felt like you were being pushed to your limits as he plunged into your sensitive channel with renewed vigor.  Thankfully for your poor vagina, it seemed like he was close to the edge, spurred on by the pulsing of your walls.  
“Please come, Daddy,” you begged weakly, “want your come in me, please—”
“Fuck,” he grunted, “I will, baby, you feel so good, fuck!”
You couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of his cock swelling and flexing inside you, his movements starting to falter as his head fell back— and, with a deep, throaty moan, he pumped his come into you.  You hummed contentedly as he collapsed against you, catching his breath.
There was something sort of romantic about a quickie in the back of his car, despite all odds.  Maybe romantic wasn’t the word, but definitely sweet for the way you twirled a wavy strand of his hair around your finger as he laughed breathlessly.
“I… didn’t mean to come so fast,” he admitted as he pulled his softening cock from you and slipped it back into his pants, sitting next to you and resting his head back on the seat with a sigh.
“I couldn’t have handled much more,” you giggled, “so it’s all for the best.”
“You can handle a lot more than you think,” he remembered, conjuring in your mind images of those times he’d brought you to the edge over and over until you were sure you would pass out and/or lose your mind.  The memory made your cheeks warm as you cuddled into him, laying your head on his shoulder.
It was a comfortable silence as you relaxed against him, watching his chest rise and fall with his breaths as they started to stabilize and slow down a bit.
“Oh, how’d you do on your quiz?” he asked you, and the sudden change of topic made you laugh quickly before you answered.
“I got a perfect score,” you beamed.  
"Hey, that's great," he smiled back, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead.  "I think you deserve a treat for that."
"Does getting my brains fucked out in the backseat of your car right after class not count as a treat?" you laughed.
"I guess it does, but I mean something a little more… expensive."
"Bruce, baby, you're gonna spoil me," you giggled, nuzzling your head into his neck as he wrapped an arm around you.
"That's the idea," he explained.  "Once I get enough energy back to move again, I'll drive you to a jeweler and get you something sparkly."
"When do you need to be back for her not to get suspicious?" you asked, chewing your lip nervously as you remembered that you had to be careful of those sorts of things.
"Ugh, I don't fucking care," he groaned.  
You looked up at him, resting your hand on his chest in a show of sympathy.  "Did something happen?  Is she picking fights with you again?"
"Let's not talk about her," he suggested, pulling you closer.  "Let's talk about you."
"What about me?" you asked with a scoff.
"Let's talk about you, coming with me to Tokyo in February."
"...what?"
"I have to do this medical conference thing there, and I thought it'd be the perfect trip to bring you along.  I only have to be there for a few days but we could stay longer if you want to do more touristy stuff, spend more time together…"
"Bruce, I have school," you reminded him.
"And you're at the top of all your classes," he dismissed.  "You can afford to miss a few days.  I want you all to myself, even if it's just for a little while."
"I could say the same thing."
"And you should," he countered, "because this is your chance.  Think about it: just you and me, in a huge suite in a fancy hotel in Tokyo, laying in bed all day, making love for hours—"
"'Making love'?  Is that what you think we do?"
He chuckled a little.  "It could be.  Or I could tie you to the bed and make you come until you scream so loud the other rooms complain to the front desk."
You shuddered, knowing full well that he was capable of that.  A few months ago, you'd walked into class with a lost voice and a new Coach handbag.  You thought about that night every time you saw the purse and you wondered if that was the real reason he bought you new stuff on nights like that.
"Will you come with me?" he asked again.
"Sure," you decided with a little smile.  "But you're too good to me, I swear."
"Not true at all, you deserve so much more than this," he refuted as he kissed your neck.  "Next time I take you somewhere, it won't be because I had a work thing there— and it'll be wherever you want."
You were too distracted by his lips on your skin to really notice what he was saying.  At the moment, despite knowing how incredible a trip with him would be, you couldn’t imagine anything better than this; the back of his car, in your school’s parking lot, with his arms around you and his come leaking out of you onto the leather.  Still, you weren’t going to stop him from buying you something sparkly if he wanted to.
1K notes · View notes
sweetcathedral · 3 years
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Note: Finally back from my break! Lots of things keep happening in my life that I’ve never expected, so I’m busier than usual, but I have queued up some quick stories for the next few weeks. Although this was inspired by the Are You Am I dresses, it’s more centred around Catholicism that I have a love-hate relationship with. Enjoy!
⚠️: 18+, fem! reader, altar sex, raw, church sex, overstimulation, creampie/breeding
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“I don’t think we should be doing this.”
“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.
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“The hell are you wearing?” Sukuna arched his brow in a grimace expression.
You looked down at your outfit, not seeing what could be wrong with it. It’s your first time wearing something like this; a silk dress with dainty straps and a raw hemming that looks like it’s about to come undone & sheer opaque black stockings. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, does it look bad?” Sukuna strides towards you, analyzing your outfit, even lifting the hem of your dress as if he doesn’t know what’s already there.
“I will never understand the evolution of clothing in this era,” he cocks his head to the side with a placid look in his eyes. Ah, right. He died a long time ago.
“What did people used to wear in your time?”
“Fabrics that actually clothed them,” he tugs at your stockings and wiggles his finger in them, still trying to wrap his head around its function.
“Hey, stop that, it tickles and it feels weird,” you giggled, pushing his hand away.
“I don’t see any point in wearing it. I could rip this off right now.”
“Sukuna, no! This is expensive!” you bicker at him, clinging on to your dress as he tugs at it like a child does when they want their mom’s attention.
“Just ask Gojo to buy you a new one when we’re finished.”
“Finished?” the sound of threads shredding apart startles you.
You scan yourself like a puppy chasing its tail to see if he’d actually ripped your dress apart. Nothing, but something felt off—looking down at your stockings, you see that there was a large slit running down your leg, exposing your thigh.
"Heh, whoops," he flicks the small shred of fabric off his nails, walking you into a corner. The shadow of the room contrasts his face making his eyes glow a deeper crimson. "Don’t look away from me," grabbing your face, his nails dig into your skin as you try to fight off his grip. Lifting you against the wall, he softly drags his nails along your exposed thighs, teasingly drawing circular patterns the higher up he goes.
"Sukuna," you pleaded softly, his hand now on your neck, lifting you ´til you were on your tippy toes & trying to balance yourself so that you wouldn’t fall into complete suffocation.
"Shh, someone might hear you," he whispers in a low octave. You forgot you weren’t in a closed off area. The two of you were originally sent to an abandoned church to investigate a curse user of the Roman Catholic religion, that is until Sukuna took over Yuji’s body.
Your body jolts at Sukuna brushing his knuckles over your clit. The heat of you traces over the length of his finger through the thin fabric of your panties, stifling a moan. "Don’t be shy. It won’t be your first time sinning in front of a God," he cooed in your ears. He told you to be quiet, but he really just wanted to see you hold yourself back as he evokes your temptations & diminishes your composure. He loves seeing you corrupted, especially when it’s in a respectable church built to honour a God who guides herds of blinded sheep.
Only shame & humiliation wash over you as you avert your gaze from looking at the smaller crucifix hanging over the doorway the two of you came from. He turns to look in the same direction you did, a sly grin stretches from ear to ear. “I have a better idea,” his eyes narrow in defiance as he turns to look at the God overseeing the center aisle.
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“I don’t think we should be doing this.”
“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.
You released a deep exhale at the feeling of something soft and wet trailing over your inner thighs—Sukuna. The warm feeling eases the tension all over your body and you can feel the heat of your blood pumping in your ears, his face getting closer and closer to where you want him the most. “Maybe we should find a more private setting,” you try convincing him.
“Now why would I want that? Just look at how wet you are down here,” he bites on your panties and pulls them off, revealing a dripping mess. It was embarrassing, immoral, but there was something about how good it feels to be doing something so wrong. The thrill of it sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, your heart beating against your ribcage. More. “Tell me what you want.”
Everything, but even that thought wasn’t enough. “I want you . . . to take me to hell,” you whisper to him.
Taken aback by the words that just came out of your mouth, he brings himself back with that same sly grin and a soft look in his eyes. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
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From one moment to the next, Sukuna drove your sanity out from you until you could think of nothing, but only him. The bold movement of his tongue reaching in to taste you, his fingers teasing around your clit and fondling your breasts, his lips pressing on every part of your skin, leaving wet splotches that are deep enough in colour to bloom into an aching bruise afterwards.
“Sukuna,” you lift the hem of your dress over as you fold your legs to your chest—revealing your painfully aching cunt, glistening with desire. The syllables of his name roll off the tip of your tongue like nectar. “More.”
“You don’t need to tell me,” he pulls your hips towards him, enough for your cunt to be pressing against the thick bulge fighting the strain of his black jeans. The altar creaked, as if in disappointment, at the sudden weight change.
Mesmerized by the sight of you laid on the altar like an offering, he takes his time to soak in the image, burning it into his mind; the burnished oak altar with the scene of the last supper carved beneath it, a warm glow cascading from the skylight of the church and the large crucified God, looking down at the lustful act unfolding in his house of worship. But then the feeling of your hips impatiently bucking at him interrupts his thoughts. “You know, they say patience is a virtue,” pleased at your eagerness.
“Fuck the virtues.”
“What a bold thing to say in a church,” he softly chuckles, the sound of his zipper perking your ears.
You reach for his belt, but he laces his fingers into yours, pressing your hand down. The tip of him brushes against your soft folds, lubricating itself with your juices. Without a struggle, his cock unfolds you, pushing a welcoming entrance open between your legs. Your walls flutter in excitement, pulling him in, as the creaking floors of the church groaned in disapproval.
“Oh, God,” you gripped at the altar cloth.
“You should moan louder for the angels to hear,” he thrusted into you harder than when he entered, the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls. “Fuck.”
All righteous thoughts were purged out of you, like a soul being cleansed anew at adoration. Demon. It wasn’t your first time with him and it definitely won’t be your last. You can feel your body getting desperate to finish as you began to buck your hips faster.
“Closer,” you held your breath, arching your back.
The sound of his name falling off your lips sends a painful feeling of the need of wanting more. He wanted to strip away your senses to see a side of you that no one else has ever seen, the first to discover you and explore whatever you hid away from plain sight. That is what drove the King of Curses, Father of All Sins, to greed.
Echoes of your panting and moaning became a choir of sultry tones, replacing the familiar sounds of organs and bells in the church. Even though your legs were trembling from reaching your limits, he kept on going, ignoring your pleas and begging.
“Not yet,” he grunts in your ear.
“Please . . . I can’t take it anymore.”
Tears stream down your face as you grip onto Sukuna’s arms. The feeling in your legs were no longer there and you were having a hard time controlling your tremors. Just when you thought you couldn’t reach another climax, your cunt began pulsating rapidly as your body uncontrollably tensed up again.
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When Sukuna pulled out, a waterfall of cum spilled out of you and pooled onto the altar cloth, dripping down the carving of the Last Supper. The two of you pant in exhaustion, he’s laying on top of you with his arms wrapped around your head, his hand firmly holding you close to him.
You brush your fingers through his hair, reciprocating the same affection back. “Tell me you’re finished for today,” you giggled.
“I wanna say ‘no’, but that’d mean you’d be knocking on Shoko’s door again.”
Both of you laughed as you teasingly tugged at his ear.
“Should we clean—!”
As he helped carry you off the altar, you looked back at the aging oak and crumpled cloth that had been perfectly fine and untainted—now dented with deep inhuman scratch marks surrounding the faint imprint of where you laid.
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honestlyfrance · 3 years
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SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS
it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 
enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!
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I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull
Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.
Philopatry by Areiton
"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.
farmhouse by Tazmaster
"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."
"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.
They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.
"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."
---
Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.
Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo
Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.
In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama
“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.
I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee
Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.
Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg
“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.
two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead
Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.
at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard
They don't talk about it: that's how it works.
I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess
Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.
Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.
Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg
Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."
We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender
Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)
__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'
Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."
love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg
Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.
Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare
With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."
flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis
Sam enjoyed his job, really.
But, not when a certain person came in.
A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys
He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.
You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.
A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.
Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM
Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.
and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg
"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"
"No."
"Captain Canary?"
"Hell no."
"The Winged Avenger?"
"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.
***
Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.
Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance
W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.
He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis
Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake
See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—
Oh. Oh.
Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.
stay where we belong by glittercake
He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."
Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"
He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"
Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies
It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.
Years in the making by glittercake
Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.
or
Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.
If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD
Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.
if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime
Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”
How right he was.
***
Sam dies. Bucky mourns.
Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam
There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.
Baked With Love by Siancore
Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.
It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.
Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam
Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.
“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”
Or
Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.
make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard
The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.
safe like spring time by quidhitch
“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”
“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”
Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.
“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.
Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody
Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.
lucky by CapnWinghead
In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.
not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard
They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.
So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote
Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.
Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.
we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard
It starts in Paris.
“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.
“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”
we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard
Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.
“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.
“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”
Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore
Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.
They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow
When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.
Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter
Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.
Or
Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.
i'm gone by bi_marvel
After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!
Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake
The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"
And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."
Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"
"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."
"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"
"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."
Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.
The Starting Line by birdlight
A Series
Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness
The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.
in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick
“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”
“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.
Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance
Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.
Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb
"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”
Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”
“How?”
“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”
Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”
“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”
Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi
Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.
Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam
Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.
Or
Sam decides it's about time to come out.
Kings of Everything by glittercake
Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.
arson we commit by winterscaptsam
Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.
So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.
“What’s your damage, doll?”
Or
Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.
The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24
Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?
Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123
“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.
Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”
Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance
There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.
OR
Gay cowboy proposal.
Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123
Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.
neverending; by glittercake
Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.
Lighthouse by glittercake
This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.
He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.
But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.
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